A Marriage Most Scandalous – Victoria Vale (1)

“He’s everything I ever imagined,” she whispered, “and more.” “I knew he was a good sort,” Mary Ann replied. “I can always tell.” “Yes, because you’ve so much experience when it comes to men,” Penelope grumbled. “I’ve got more than you,” Mary Anne retorted, her voice dripping with syrupy sweet venom. Like Cecily, she was newly married and seemed to be enjoying her status as a countess and a wife. Frowning, Cecily observed Penelope from the corner of her eye. Her friend was even surlier than usual.

She’d always been opinionated on the subject of men—even seemed to hold them in very low regard—but today, it appeared to have reached a new level of hatred. “I am happy for you, darling,” Mary Anne whispered so only the two of them could hear. “A happy marriage is the one thing a young lady has to hope for, is it not?” A happy marriage, yes. A passionate one. She could hardly wait to learn what Petra would teach them.

As well, she could not wait to learn more about her husband and the reasons behind his stiffness and reticence. As much as she loved him, she was all too aware of the fact that their speedy courtship hadn’t given them time to get to know one another. They had their entire lives for that. Yet, something told her that learning more about her husband on an intellectual level would only deepen their intimacy—which had been her ultimate goal in hiring Madame Petra.

Cecily threw herself into her busy day, losing track of time as she and her ladies went from home to home, delivering baskets and luxuriating in the joy they’d brought to the unfortunate. By the end of the afternoon, her feet had grown sore and she felt exhausted, but nothing could wipe the smile from her face.

She arrived home just in time to begin dressing for the Morley’s ball. She could hear Sheridan chatting with his valet through the door separating his dressing room from hers. Deciding to give him a bit of privacy, she kept to her room to prepare for the night. Taking her time, she enjoyed a long, languid soak in the tub while her lady’s maid prepared her gown and accessories. The ensemble she’d chosen was unlike anything she’d ever worn. Yet, Petra had insisted on it.

“You must show your husband that he is married to a woman,” she’d said when they’d covered the subject of Cecily’s clothing. “Not a porcelain doll. A woman who knows how to accentuate her best assets commands notice. Sheridan will be unable to keep his hands off you.” Grinning at her reflection, she decided the Madame had been right. She hadn’t even donned her gown yet, and already, she felt like the most decadent, sensual creature in the world.

Copyright 2015 by Victoria Vale Edited by Zee Monodee (Divas at Work Editing) Cover Art by PJ Friel All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, laces, or people, living or dead, is coincidental. 1kitap1.com/en Chapter One Brighton, 1816 Sheridan Cranfield stood in the doorway of his wife’s dressing room, peering through the half-open door into her chamber.

She sat at her vanity alone, facing the mirror, her honey-blonde tresses hanging down to her waist like a curtain of spun gold. A yellow dressing gown had been cinched at her waist, undoubtedly covering one of her prim, white nightgowns. She held a lock of hair over her shoulder and brushed it with rhythmic strokes, her eyes unfocused as she stared off into the distance. He wondered what her thoughts consisted of, if she anticipated him coming to her with the same eagerness he felt.

Steady, Sheridan, he chastised himself. You don’t want to frighten her. The madness of his lust for her had become a tangible thing—one that had been driving him insane. Yet, his wife remained an innocent, newly initiated to the marriage bed. This reminder did not douse the fire in his loins as he stood there, watching her perform the simple task like a voyeur taking in a tawdry exhibition. Sometimes, he liked to run his fingers through her silky locks, marveling in the erotic caress of them against his skin.

But then, that just led to imagining giving it a rough yank, pulling her head back to expose the column of her throat before plundering that exposed, vulnerable skin with his mouth. He shuddered at the thought and his erection throbbed, becoming downright painful. Not a night passed when he did not toss and turn in his bed, suffering from dreams of the forbidden fantasies he wished to experience with his lawful wife.

However, he could never touch her that way, sully her like he would a brothel whore. She was his wife, and thus, deserved his utmost respect and gentle care. A young woman, she’d just ended her first season when they’d met in Bath. In those days, he still suffered from a broken heart over having been rejected by Margaret Seymour.

Though, he must remember to think of her as the Duchess of Avonleah now. She’d spurned him for another man, claiming to love him.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: e5fb9fe5a12e8d74
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 787,961 bytes (0.751 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 118
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 201.29 minutes
• Total Words: 40,259
• Total Characters: 225,849
• Average Words per Page: 341.18
• Average Characters per Page: 1913.97

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