Free The Madness of Viscount Atherbourne (Rescued from Ruin, Book One) by Elisa Braden Page A

should learn his least
favorite dish so the cook may avoid serving it?”
    “Oh, no dear. You should learn it so you may
serve it whenever he displeases you.” She squeezed Victoria’s hand
as they climbed the front steps. “For his sake, I do hope that
occasion is a rarity.”
     
    *~*~*

 
     
    Chapter Seven
    “ While I agree men fancy a good meal, Meredith, I
daresay the stomach is not the most direct route to a man’s heart.
That organ lies a good bit lower.” —The Dowager Marchioness of
Wallingham to the Countess of Berne upon learning of said lady’s
supper menu.
     
    Lucien’s wedding day began with a crack of
thunder and a torrent of rain, the deluge washing the London
streets and battering the windows of Blackmore’s drawing room
throughout the small, quiet ceremony.
    Even now, amidst the clink and chatter of the
wedding breakfast, it had not let up, a backdrop of constant
whooshing punctuated by the occasional ominous rumble. With fewer
than a dozen guests in attendance, the voices of Victoria’s family
and friends failed to drown out the sounds of the storm.
    A hard hand thumped Lucien between the
shoulders just as he was about to take a bite of spinach and ham
torte. “Well, old friend, it appears no one else is prepared to
congratulate you, so allow me to be the first,” Lord Tannenbrook
said evenly.
    Lucien coughed on a wave of wry laughter and
shook his head at his sole ally, who was seated on his right at the
long dining table. “I expect you may be the only,” he murmured,
glancing around at those who conveyed their disapproval of him
quite effectively through barren politeness. “But it matters
little. What’s done cannot be undone, regardless of how the duke or
anyone else may feel about it.”
    James took a bite of toast and nodded his
agreement.
    Since his arrival at Clyde-Lacey House, the
atmosphere had been chilly. Far from unexpected, but uncomfortable
nonetheless. The duke had barely spoken to him. Colin Lacey had
arrived drunk and worked at getting drunker as the morning wore on.
Lord and Lady Berne had greeted him with tight reserve, even while
embracing and coddling Victoria as though they were hens and she
their lone chick. Clearly sensing the tension in the room, the
priest had scowled and asked Victoria repeatedly if she was certain
she did not wish to reconsider. All in all, he felt fortunate she
had not planned a larger affair.
    Lucien’s eyes slid past James to the head of
the table where his pale, subdued bride sat in quiet conversation
with the Earl of Berne. He hadn’t previously thought her beautiful,
but in spite of her withdrawn demeanor today, she was strikingly
lovely. Her gown, a diaphanous confection of white, silver, blue,
and green, made her eyes and skin fairly glow. Her golden tresses
had been swept artfully upon her head, dappled with tiny white
flowers and green leaves. A few stray curls played about her face
and touched the strand of pearls around her delicate white neck. He
imagined unfastening the necklace and tracing his tongue along its
path. Then lower, he thought as his eyes settled on her sweet,
lushly rounded breasts, and lower still.
    A hard, sudden thrust of desire surged
through his body, tightening his groin and quickening his breath.
Like a bolt of lightning, it was swift and frighteningly powerful. Bloody hell. The last thing he needed was a distraction of
this magnitude. Forcing his attention away from Victoria, he
collided with James’s knowing gaze.
    Damn. Apparently, his lust was obvious, at
least from Tannenbrook’s perspective. His fixation on bedding his
new wife, while understandable in different circumstances, was
unseemly and unwise here in enemy territory. He could only hope
others at the table hadn’t noticed him staring at her like a
desperate youth mooning over a buxom milkmaid.
    “I say, Atherbourne, p’rhaps we should bring
these festivities to a close. You’re looking rather eager to move
on to a more private