Twice a Rake Read Online Free Page A

but to The Wedding Night.
    Frequently over the years since her debut, Aurora had wondered just what, precisely, took place between a husband and wife on their wedding night. Her mother had died when she was only eleven years old, and she had no older, married woman willing to share intimate details such as these.
    Well, there was Aunt Sedgewick, but the old biddy would never dream of discussing anything of the sort with her. Her responsibility to Aurora lay solely in introducing her to society and playing the part of chaperone at balls. She felt no need to discuss anything save Aurora’s good reputation. And what unmarried lady who knew the details of the marriage bed could possibly expect to hold a good reputation? None, in the eyes of Aunt Sedgewick. Her aunt frequently remarked with disdain that she should like Aurora to cease her close friendship with Lady Rebecca, whom she felt to be fast, yet neglected to demand as much due to her husband’s relationship with the Duke of Aylesbury. The crotchety old bag.
    Not that Rebecca knew anything of the goings-on between a husband and wife, anyway. But that was beside the point.
    The point was that Aurora’s imagination was running away with her, and she doubted she would sleep a wink the entire night, even though she no longer had light by which to write.
    She thought of him, lean and muscular and strong, in his sleeping gown and waiting for her.
    Rush to him. That’s what she’d do.
    She would rush to his side and dive beneath the bedclothes and give him a kiss on the cheek. A very chaste kiss, one that spoke of her love and undying devotion. And then he would tell her he loved her and she would say the same, and they would sleep side by side, feeling the warmth of the other across the bed.
    It sounded magical. Delightful. Scandalous, even—the idea of sharing the same bed for the entire night. Particularly since most husbands and wives slept in separate rooms, not just in separate beds. Or so Aunt Sedgewick would have her believe. It was quite possibly the truth, since Aurora’s parents had kept entirely separate suites in opposite wings at Fairfax Priory, where they had lived when Aurora was just a girl.
    She felt warmer, just imagining his body mere feet from hers.
    Yes, this was a splendid manner of falling asleep. She would have to convince Lord Quinton they should share a bed once they were married. In the morning, she would be certain to write that particular detail in her journal.
    Almost before she fell asleep, though, her maid barged into her room to wake her. “Good morning, Miss Hyatt,” Rose said. “Up with you and off to your breakfast, now. The Marquess of Norcutt will be here before you know it to collect you for your outing to Hyde Park.”
    Blasted chipper chit. Had she no respect for the fact that her mistress had scarcely slept a minute the entire evening? The reason for her lack of sleep was unimportant, but the lack of sleep itself was of dire consequence.
    But then Rose handed her a cup of chocolate, surely the most divine creation known to man. All must be forgiven.
    “All right, then. Up we go.”
    Aurora attempted to slough off the Sullen Sally mantle she had woken up wearing long enough to allow Rose’s assistance in preparing for the day ahead.
    By the time she had dressed, had her hair properly coiffed, and breakfasted, she sat at the writing table in the main parlor, hoping to get a bit more written before the dreaded man arrived. Scarcely half a moment later, a knock was already sounding at the door. One o’clock, on the nose. Good Lord, the man was punctual. Not to mention rather dicked in the nob for planning something at this indecent hour of the day.
    She ought to return her journal to her chamber. It certainly couldn’t remain where it was, because one of the maids might stumble upon it and have to open it to determine what to do with it. No, that simply would not do.
    Aurora dashed out into the hall, hoping to accomplish her task