Vicar's Virgin Read online

  Solemnly Mr. Ridley pulled out her chair, helped her rise, and escorted her back into the ballroom. The Dowager was absorbed in conversation with his mama, so Georgina was relieved not to have caused her to worry.

  Soon Amos came to escort them home, and he and Sapphira discussed all the latest on-dits while the Dowager dozed and Georgina sat in her corner of the coach remembering Mr. Ridley’s hazel eyes that sparkled as he smiled, the way he’d given her his entire attention, and how very fine he’d looked in evening dress. Not to mention his deep baritone voice that caressed the very air as he spoke and sent little shivers trailing up and down her spine.

  ****

  Several weeks later, Georgina and Sapphira were in the sitting room sewing when her eldest brother and the head of the family, Simeon appeared. “Step into the hallway with me a moment please, Georgina.”

  Simeon took her hands and looked down at her seriously. “Barnabas Ridley is a good man, Georgina. He’ll be a good husband. He’s comfortably situated—more than comfortably—and he genuinely cares for you. I doubt you’ll find a better man. But if you say no, I’ll send him away.”

  “I like him and am well aware that at my age I’m unlikely to get a better offer. I’m used to being busy and I think I’d enjoy helping him in the parish,” Georgina replied, her heart beating hard.

  In one way this was very sudden. In another he’d been at every event she’d attended lately and always danced with her. But still, in her mind there was the worry that her impish younger siblings would give him a distaste for her, or make him decide the connection was not suitable for a man of God. She was so confused. He did make her heart beat faster, there was no denying it. Besides, marriage was a business arrangement after all, the only future a woman of her class could consider.

  “I’m glad you agree. I wish you very happy. You may have five minutes alone with him, then I will have Soames send in some champagne so we may all toast you both.”

  The bookroom door was ajar, and hesitantly Georgina scratched on it. Mr. Ridley stepped over to open it wide, and Georgina understood he’d been just as nervous that she would say no, as she’d been that he might have been unnerved by the children’s behavior.

  He took her hand and guided her into the room then gracefully dropped to one knee and smiled up at her.

  “Miss Georgina, I offer you my hand and my heart. Will you make me the happiest of men by agreeing to marry me?” he asked, his hazel eyes liquid pools of love gazing up into her face.

  Georgina felt the blush rising up her cheeks as she nodded, swallowed, then answered, “Thank you for honoring me with your proposal. Marriage to you would make me very happy too.”

  He stood, still holding her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist. Her skin and her nerves tingled with delight at the feeling of his lips on her delicate flesh. Then, he kissed the inside of her palm, turned her hand over and kissed her knuckles.

  Slowly and gently he drew her into his arms and placed the lightest of kisses on her forehead. Georgina raised her hands to his shoulders and looked up, offering her lips to him. He pressed his mouth to hers. His lips were soft yet hard, gentle yet firm. His kiss was everything she’d imagined a man’s kiss might be and more. Her insides felt warm and melty, a pulse throbbing deep inside her making her want—something. More.

  Slowly they drew apart, and just in time as Simeon spoke loudly from outside the room, “I’ll take that tray in for you thank you, Soames.”

  Chapter Two

  After endless discussion, Georgina had decided to wear a red gown for her wedding. Blue and silver were more fashionable, although red had been the most popular color a few years past, but the Dowager agreed that nothing was more appropriate for a pre-Christmas wedding than the color red. Besides, bright colors suited Georgina and that was a major consideration for her wedding day.

  At her request, the wedding was held at the village church near her family home, Kingsdene. The day dawned fine though cold without snow, and the Vicar of Kingsdene performed the ceremony at eleven in the morning. Deborah looked angelic in her white fur cape, and Sapphira, as lovely as always, also wore white, both being the bride’s maids. Mr. John Smith stood up for Barnabas. His waistcoat was pure white and Barnabas’ embroidered in red to match his bride.

  The twins were washed, brushed, and turned out in the latest fashion. Since both were determined to honor Georgina on her special day, no shadow of mischief was in their demeanor. Although Amos had been instructed to watch their every move, so that might have acted as a deterrent too.

  The wedding breakfast was served at noon, and the courses were a credit to the army of servants who’d been slaving for days over the pies, jellies, and side dishes.

  Then, hand in hand, the newly married couple ran to their carriage, and the guests threw shoes at them for good luck.

  It wasn’t until she was sitting in the carriage quite alone with Mr. Ridley that the reality of her new situation hit home to Georgina. Never before had she been alone with any male other than her father or brothers, and even then almost never in a closed carriage. Her maid, sisters, or the Dowager would have been with them too. But her servants had gone ahead in the wagon with her trunks to make everything ready for her at the vicarage.

  Grandmama had insisted they visit Madame Giselle and order her new silk undergarments and bed gowns trimmed with lace. She’d also briefly explained a wife’s duties. Georgina had been blushing so hard she’d had to struggle to listen, but what Grandmama told her had been much the same as what Mama had hinted at before her first season when explaining why she should never ever be alone with a man for so much as a minute.

  Mr. Ridley—Barnabas—was tall, strong, and well formed. His black curly hair and sparkling hazel eyes made her insides feel warm and gooey. He seemed quiet, kind, and caring. The husband she had been given suited her well enough, and she hoped for some pleasure in the marriage bed. Not the first time. Grandmama had said the first few times would hurt but she must not cry because in time she would find considerable joy in it and should not discourage her husband’s attentions. Grandmama had also hinted that the wife who pleased her husband well in the bedroom could exert considerable power over him in everyday life. A statement that had intrigued Georgina very much and made her wish her Grandpapa had not died before she was born. She’d have liked to have met him.

  But what was she supposed to do now? Should she entertain him with small talk? Or would he want to be quiet. Did he perhaps even feel carriage sick? Oh she hoped not! But there were so many important things she needed to know about him, if she was to be a good wife.

  Georgina was trying to decide whether to make an innocuous comment or to ask some of the questions running through her mind, when Mr. Ridley spoke.

  “Georgina, my mama was hoping you’d take my sister, Theodora, with you to the parties you’ll be invited to when we return to Town and to the various activities you will be involved in. During the day I frequently have parish business so can’t always be there to escort you, but if there’s something you particularly wish my attendance at, you must tell me.”

  “I’ll like having Theodora’s company. I’m used to being part of a large, active family and will enjoy having a new sister. But I’m looking forward to being your helper in the parish too, visiting the ill with your mama and Theodora and supporting you in any way I can.”

  “It’s not a poor parish, but there are always people who are ill or in need. Mama has already said she’s anticipating you taking much of the burden from her both in the parish and in chaperoning Theodora.”

  Georgina nodded and began asking questions about the people and the area, comforted in knowing her input would be valued. She was used to being busy, and here were tasks well suited to her abilities and energy.

  Just as night was falling, they reached the outskirts of the city. The vicarage was a big, old, stone building in the shape of an H with the long western wall of the house actually forming part of the eastern wall of the nart
hex of the church.

  The servants had prepared a simple but delicious meal for them, and her rooms were decorated with bowls of potpourri and vases of fresh-cut flowers. The connecting door between her bedroom and Mr. Ridley’s dressing room was open.

  Well, it is my wedding night, she thought with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.

  Her maid had already laid out one of her new bed gowns from Madame Giselle, a pretty confection in blue silk with rows of lace around the neck and sleeves. The maid, Emmy, helped her out of her wedding dress and into the bed gown then unpinned her hair and brushed it out.

  “Should I braid it for you, miss?”

  That’s another thing I don’t know. Would he prefer my hair out or neatly braided? Or doesn’t such a thing matter to a man?

  “Leave it down tonight, thank you, Emmy. You may go now.

  Suddenly Georgina was nervous. What if she didn’t please him? What if she was so inept at marital concourse that he was disgusted by her? What if it hurt so much she cried and embarrassed both of them? What if—No! I will learn. I’ll watch what he likes and study to please him. Every other married woman has managed and I will too.

  A light tap came at the connecting door and Georgina looked up to see Mr. Ridley—Barnabas—standing in the doorway, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

  “I propose a toast to our new life together,” he said, placing the bottle and glasses on a small table.

  She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. He looked so handsome standing there in the candlelight. He was wearing a wine-red robe over his shirt. He’d taken his cravat off as well as his jacket and boots, and the neck of his shirt was wide open, showing a tantalizing hint of skin. His eyes were sparkling and heavy lidded and he looked at her body in a manner guaranteed to make her blush—and very aware of the fact that she had no undergarments below the silk and lace lingerie.

  Barnabas poured them each a glass of the wine and brought it over to Georgina, standing extremely close as he handed it to her. He looked down at her, his eyes burning through her skin, and said softly, “To us.”

  “To us,” she replied, touching her glass to his then sipping the wine. It was the same deep red as his robe and tasted smooth and rich. “Hmm, from France.”

  “Undoubtedly.” His gaze locked onto hers, he finished his wine. He set their glasses back on the table, then quoted, “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is more delightful than wine.”

  Very gently he pulled her into his arms and did as he’d quoted, pressing his lips to hers, softly at first, then more demanding, subtly encouraging her to kiss him back. She relaxed, enjoying the warm, soft yet firm pressure of his lips on hers, and the rich taste of the wine they’d drunk.

  With one hand he tilted her head a little and licked along the seam of her mouth. Surprised, she parted her lips and his tongue entered to tease along the insides of her cheeks then rub along the roof of her mouth.

  Georgina was a little shocked but in an exciting, delicious way. Cautiously she flicked her tongue against his. He murmured approving noises, and his tongue began playing with hers. Their tongues danced and tangled together until they had to break apart to take a breath.

  “You liked that, didn’t you,” he whispered before pressing kisses down her neck.

  She liked that too and flipped her hair aside to give him more skin to touch. Tentatively she pressed her hands against his chest, enjoying the warm, hard feel of his muscles.

  Barnabas pushed the top of her bed gown down as his lips dropped hot, wet kisses over her shoulders and on the top of her breasts. His kisses were intoxicating, far more so than the wine they’d drunk, and recklessly she leaned her body against his, loving his heat and solidity.

  His hands pushed and pulled at her gown tugging it down farther until her breasts were bared to his gaze. One part of her was embarrassed that he was staring at her bare skin, but another part of her noted how heavy lidded his eyes were now, almost hooded, yet gleaming as they stared at her breasts. Her nipples stood up, responding to his desire. Deep inside her a pulse began to beat, and she knew instinctively this was the response of a woman to a man.

  When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, Georgina couldn’t help her surprised squeak, but it felt so good she pressed her body tighter to his, only to be even more surprised by the long hard ridge of his male thing against her belly. As he sucked her breast, his thing grew bigger and bigger until she wondered how it was ever supposed to fit inside her. Well a baby comes out of there so a man’s thing must be able to get in, she decided, mentally shrugging off the “how” and just enjoying the suction of his mouth on her other breast now.

  Finally he lifted his head, saying, “I want to see all of you,” and he tugged until the bed gown slid down over her hips onto the floor.

  Barnabas dropped to his knees, pressing kisses across her belly and farther down to her most secret place. He held her thighs apart and kissed her there, his tongue sliding along her entry and flicking over the special piece of flesh that felt very good.

  Georgina rested her hands on his broad shoulders, her knees suddenly weak and wobbly. Barnabas—she couldn’t possibly think of him as Mr. Ridley while he was doing that!—held her thighs open with both hands, his mouth on her secret place, his lips and tongue licking and sucking the sensitive flesh.

  “Oh!” she squeaked again as the most wonderful feeling of heat and urgency built inside her.

  “Yes, ‘oh’ indeed. You’re ready for me, my beautiful bride.”

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, placing her in the center and shrugging his robe and shirt off, letting them drop to the floor. Then he moved across the room, blowing out the candles on the mantelpiece before removing his breeches. His back was turned to her, but she couldn’t help notice what a very attractive rear he had. The muscles there were firm and fascinating to watch as he stepped out of his breeches.

  Then he turned to face her and she saw his thing. It was very big and quite red in color. It seemed to be almost a separate entity from him, standing up and bobbing as he walked across to the bed. For a moment she almost reached out to touch it, before reminding herself that to do so might shock and horrify him. Especially on their wedding night.

  A cock. It’s called a cock. That’s what the grooms said about Papa’s stallion’s thing. It does look rather like a rooster with its red helmet and the way it’s standing up almost crowing like that. She stifled the urge to giggle, reminding herself once again that Barnabas might be horrified to hear such thoughts from his wife.

  Barnabas left the candle on the nightstand alight, sliding into the bed beside her and gently pulling her into his arms. He kissed her lips again and she happily joined him in tasting his tongue as he tasted hers.

  He really was an excellent kisser, not that she’d had much experience at such things. But she’d received a few stolen kisses as a young woman and they were nowhere near as exciting as these kisses from Barnabas. It seemed so strange to use his given name. Many married women only ever referred to their husbands by their title. But Mama and Papa had called each other James and Elizabeth. Still, she’d better wait to see what name he used for her before being presumptuous and saying it aloud. There were so many things she needed to know. But now was not the time for questions. Or thinking. He was kissing her breasts again and that warm and wonderful feeling was rising inside her harder and higher.

  Greatly daring, she ran her palm down his smooth back, reveling in the feeling of those firm muscles. She wanted to touch his taut rear end but didn’t have the courage. Next time, she promised herself. And one day I will touch his thing—his cock.

  Barnabas rose above her, one hand supporting his weight, the other holding his cock at her entry. “I’m sorry, this may hurt a little, but I can’t wait any longer. In the future it will be better for you, I promise.”

  There was a feeling of pressure, a sharp pain, then his cock was pushing in
side her, stretching her wider and wider until she felt so very full.

  His mouth descended on hers for a fierce kiss, his tongue thrusting inside and possessing her mouth as his cock was doing down below. He matched his strokes, pulling his cock out as his tongue left her mouth, then driving both in together.

  The pain had passed, her channel accepted him now, and the way he was moving his body over hers, the slow, powerful thrusts, were building that exciting feeling inside her again. Her inner being was coiling tight with need for more. Unconsciously her hips began moving up to meet his, her legs opening wider, her feet pressing on the bed so she could rise higher into his every stroke.

  His hand slid down between their bodies and his finger pressed on the sensitive piece of flesh he’d sucked earlier. With no warning the most amazing feeling burst through her body, making her insides clench around his cock and her limbs shake. She gritted her teeth together to prevent herself groaning aloud in pleasure as his pelvis powered into her a few more times, then there was a burst of warmth as he released his seed deep inside her.

  The explosive heat from him made her insides clench some more as her body relaxed onto the bed. She felt wonderful, fulfilled, thrilled, and having him lying on her full length as he did now was equally wonderful. His muscled length covered her over like a protective blanket, his arms wrapped tightly around her, almost as if he were cherishing her, like in the vows they’d made just a few short hours ago.

  If this is marital concourse, Grandmama, I believe I’m going to like it very much!

  All too soon he pulled away from her and she felt such a sense of loss as he climbed off the bed. She’d really liked being held by him. He gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Georgina, that was beautiful. You are beautiful. I must go, now. You’ll be wishing to clean up so you can sleep.”

  She lay there, missing his warmth and strength as he gathered his clothing and left her room, shutting the door to his dressing room behind him, leaving her alone.