Chapter 6 chapter Five

St. Vincent got out of bed on unsteady legs and walked over to the washstand.He felt dazed and unsure, as if he had been the one who had lost his virginity, not Evangeline.He had thought for a long time that there would be no novelty in this matter, but he was wrong.It was a shocking experience for a skilled bedding veteran to find himself involuntarily ruled by passion.He originally planned to withdraw at the last moment, but in the end he was overwhelmed by desire and couldn't control his body.Damn it, this has never happened before. He grabbed a clean linen towel and soaked it in fresh water.Now his breathing is back to normal, but his mind is not at peace.After the cloud and rain just now, he should be satisfied for several hours - but it turned out not enough.Before the longest, most intense, wildest orgasm of his life had passed, he wanted to hug her again, open her, bury himself inside her again... this was crazy.but why?Why her?

She is the type he has always liked, delicate and gorgeous, slim fit, with a pair of round thighs that can wrap around him; her skin is as smooth as ironed velvet, and a few golden freckles are like Rocket and Catherine The joyous sparks from the wheel fireworks; her hair... the red curls cascading down her head... yes, equally irresistible.But all of Evangeline Jenner's physical allure doesn't account for her special influence over him. Unbelievably feeling the sting of lust again, Sebastian scrubbed himself roughly with cold water, then fetched another clean towel and walked over to Evangeline.She lay half curled on her side on the bed, without any tears or grievances from a lost virgin girl, which made him heave a sigh of relief.Rather than being disturbed, she looked thoughtful... She was staring at him intently, as if she wanted to solve a puzzle.Muttering and grunting, he coaxed her to lie flat and washed the blood and fluid from between her legs.

It wasn't easy for Evangeline to lie naked in front of him... Sebastian saw her quickly turn rosy.He hardly knew women who blushed without clothes on, and the ones he picked were always experienced and seldom knew what it was like to be innocent.Not for moral reasons, of course, but because virgins are usually boring in bed. Putting the towel aside, Sebastian leaned over Evangeline's shoulders, palms deep into the mattress.They studied each other curiously.Evangeline was content with being silent, he found—she didn't try to find something to say like most women do.Nice trait.He moved closer to her, still looking into her eyes... but when he looked down, a low rumbling sound broke the silence.Her empty stomach protested.The blush deepened - if it was still possible - and Evangeline pressed her hand to her stomach as if to silence the wayward voice.

A slight smile jumped onto his face, and he quickly bent down and kissed her belly. "I'll have breakfast delivered, Honey." "Evie," she whispered, pulling the sheet up over her chest. "My father and my friends called me that." "Are we finally ready to be called by Christian names?" He said softly with a teasing smile hidden in the corner of his mouth. "Sebastian." Evie slowly stretched out her hand, as if he was a beast that would run away when it was frightened, and carefully passed through the hair on his forehead, brushing the hanging locks aside, she whispered: "We have really married."

"Yes. God bless you." He tilted his head, enjoying the caress of her fingers in his hair. "Shall we set off for London today?" Evie nodded. "I want to see my father." "When you're going to explain to him that I'm his son-in-law, you'd better choose your words carefully," he said. "Otherwise the news would kill him." She withdrew her hand. "I want to hurry up. If the weather is better, maybe we can go faster. I want to go straight to his club--" "We'll be there soon," Sebastian said calmly. "But we don't have to be as exhausted as we were when we came to Scotland. We have to stay at the stagecoach inn at least one night." She opened her mouth to argue, but he then said mercilessly: "I was so tired that I rushed to the club and told my father and You are no good."

Immediately upon it—an exercise in husbandly power, a wife's duty of obedience.Of course Evie wanted to refute, but she just stared at him, a dimple of displeasure between her brows.He softened his voice and said softly: "You are in a difficult time, Evie. Choosing me as your husband is enough of a test, but taking care of a terminal lung disease...you need all your energy. You haven't There's no point in using it up as soon as it arrives." Evie stared at him, the intense new gaze making him uncomfortable.In her eyes, it was as if someone gathered the most dazzling sunlight with countless pieces of blue lenses. "Are you concerned about my well-being?" she asked.

He armed himself, his voice mocking, his eyes grim. "Of course, Kitty. Keeping you alive until I get your dowry is my top priority." Evie soon discovered that St. Vincent—Sebastian—was just as comfortable naked as he was dressed up.She tried to be indifferent to the sight of a man walking around the room naked; but she stole glances whenever she could, until he pulled a suit out of a suitcase and put it on.He was tall, with slender limbs, and his smooth puffy figure must have been trained in gentlemen's subjects, such as riding, boxing, and fencing.His shoulders were broad, his muscles stretched under the taut skin, and his front was even more impressive, the chest that was often seen as a statue of marble or bronze was not clean and blank, but covered with downy hair.His chest hair—and hair elsewhere—had surprised her quite a bit.Many unsolved mysteries of the opposite sex are now -- it is no exaggeration to say -- -- unfolded in front of her.

Unable to cross the room as exposed as he was, Evie wrapped a sheet around her and walked to her small suitcase.She found a clean long dress of thick brown velvet, a brand new set of underwear, and her best pair of clean shoes.Her other pair of shoes was now dirty and wet, and the thought of wearing them made her shudder.As she was getting dressed, she felt Sebastian watching her, and she hurriedly pulled off her underwear to cover her pinkish body. "You're beautiful, Evie," he said softly. But the relative who had raised her always bemoaned her rich hair color and growing freckles, and Evie smiled at him suspiciously. "Aunt Florence keeps giving me bleach to get my freckles off. It doesn't help."

Sebastian approached her with a lazy smile, held her shoulders, and looked over her disheveled delicate body. "Don't take out a single freckle, sweetheart. I've found some in a few of the most charming places, and I'm particularly fond of them... Shall I tell you where they are?" Somewhat resisted and somewhat embarrassed, Evie shook her head, twisted her head and tried to break free from him, but he held her tightly.Pulling her closer, his golden head bent down to kiss the side of her neck. "Little spoiler." He whispered with a smile. "I'm going to tell you anyway." He reached around the hem of his underwear and slowly rolled it up.Her breath caught as his fingers caressed tenderly between her bare legs. "I found out earlier," he said against her sensitive throat. "There are a few on the inside of your right thigh, near—"

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Sebastian looked up and muttered complainingly. "Breakfast," he said. "I don't mind letting you choose. My flirting is still a hot breakfast, but your answer may not please me. Put on the long skirt and I will open the door." After Evie hurriedly got dressed, Sebastian opened the door to let in a pair of dormitory maids carrying covered dinner trays. The two girls couldn't help themselves when they saw this handsome guest with an angelic face and mature wheat-colored hair. gasped and smirked.And his untidy attire did not help their composure, with bare feet under trousers, white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and a silk scarf hanging loosely around his neck; Twice the dishes were nearly overturned before the utensils were set on the table.When they noticed the messy beds and guessed what happened that night, they couldn't hide their screams of excitement.Evie angrily shooed the maids out of the room, and slammed the door behind them.

She glanced at Sebastian to see his reaction to the maid's gesture of infatuation, but he didn't seem to care.Of course, their behavior was too ordinary to be ignored, and a man of his appearance and status was always sought after by women.Evie had no doubts that it would be a disaster for a wife who loved him.And she would never allow herself to be bitten by jealousy and fear of betrayal. Pushing Evie into the seat, Sebastian served her first.There was porridge with salt and butter, for the Scots considered adding sugar sacrilege; pancake rolls, thinly sliced ​​boiled bacon, smoked cod, and a big bowl of smoked oysters and a heap of spit with jam. manage.Evie wolfed down the strong tea.Such simple meals could hardly compare to the Earl of Westcliff's fine English breakfasts at The Stones, but they were hot and plentiful, and Evie was too hungry to be picky about anything. Sebastian was shaved and dressed while she was still hanging around the food.Throwing the leather roll containing the shaving tools into the box, he closed the lid and said to Evie nonchalantly, "Pack up your luggage, kitten. I'll go downstairs to see how the carriage is getting ready." "Mr. McPhee's marriage certificate—" "I'll get it. Lock the door when I'm gone." He came back to pick up Evie about an hour later, and at the same time called a strong young man to carry the boxes and suitcases to the waiting carriage.Sebastian saw Evie tie her hair into a ponytail with one of his scarves, and smiled slightly.Evie had lost most of her hair pins on the way to Scotland, and it didn't occur to her to grab an extra set. "You look too young to be married with your hair like that," he said softly. "It's a bit more slutty, I like it." Now that she was getting used to his obscene tone, Evie looked resigned, gave him a tolerant look, and followed him out of the room.They came downstairs to bid farewell to the shop owner, Mr. Findley. When Evie accompanied Sebastian to the door, Findlay said happily, "Good luck, Mrs. St. Vincent!" Surprised to realize that she was already a Viscountess, Evie stammered her thanks. Sebastian led her to the waiting carriage. The horses stamped and exchanged steps, their dilated nostrils puffing out white air. "Yeah," he commented wryly. "It's a bad reputation, but now you have your share of the title." He helped her up the steps and into the carriage. "Besides," he continued, spinning to sit next to her. "One day, we will rise to a higher title. I am the first heir to the duke title...but I advise you not to hold your breath. The men in our family have regrettably long lives, that is to say, And probably not until we're all too old to enjoy it." "If you—" Evie began, and was surprised to see a big guy on the floor.It was some kind of large earthen vessel, with a stopper at the top opening, round in shape, but flattened at the bottom to hold it securely.She glanced at Sebastian in confusion, stepped on the object tentatively with one foot, and felt a strong heat reaching the bottom of her skirt. "Foot warmers," she yelled, the hot water in the earthenware crocks would last longer than the hot bricks she had used. "Where did you find it?" "I saw this at McPhee's house and bought it," Sebastian replied, seemingly amused by her heightened excitement. "He can knock me out again, and he is naturally ecstatic." Impulsively, Evie half-raised her body, pecked and kissed his cheek, the skin under her lips was slippery and cool. "Thank you, you are very kind." He put his arms around her waist to prevent her from retreating, and then he hugged her into his lap with a little force, their faces were so close that their noses almost touched.He whispered, his breath caressing her lips. "I'm sure I deserve more than that." "Just a foot warmer." She protested slightly. he laughed. "I should say, darling, that this thing will get cold in the end...so, again, I'll be your only source of warmth. I'm not going to share my body heat." "The rumors are true." During the conversation, Evie found herself very happy, which was a little strange. She had never joked with a man like this before, and she had never experienced the joy of teasing his appetite.She could see from his shining eyes that he was also amused.It looked like he wanted to pounce on her. "I can afford to wait," he said. "This damn jar can't stay hot forever." He let her climb down his lap and watched her pull the hem of her skirt over the foot warmer.The carriage started to move forward, and Evie sat back happily, the beautiful rising heat was circling between her legs in the knickerbockers, sinking into the stockings, and a layer of goose bumps appeared on her legs. "My lord...I mean...Sebastian..." He looked out the car window, his eyes bright and thoughtful. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" "If your father is a duke, why are you only a viscount? Shouldn't you be a marquess, or at least an earl?" "Not necessarily. When an heir is born, it's relatively modern to add a bunch of lesser titles to him; but usually the older the duke's title, the less likely the eldest son will be a marquess. My father Just pretend you have to, of course. Don't expect to talk to him about it, especially if he's drunk, or you'll get head-scratching rants about how weird the word 'Marquis' is , how sissy, and the title itself is nothing, just stuck under the title of duke and so on." (Marquess, also Marquis. In terms of etymology, it is derived from the German Markgraf [Fort Hou; frontier Colonial Governor; Earl] evolved. The original meaning of Marquis is similar to that of "Fang Bo", which refers to a feudal official who governs a place. In England, the Latin word "Marquis" originally referred to the lord of the Welsh frontier. At that time, it only explained The location of their territory close to the border does not mean that their status is higher than that of the earl. In 1385, the meaning changed, and Robert de Vere, the 9th earl of Oxford, was made Marquess of Dublin. In 1397, John, Earl of Somerset, was made Dublin The Marquis of Sit and the Marquess of Somerset. The status and honor of the Marquis are not very clear, roughly between the Duke and the Earl, and were not valued for a period of time. During the reign of Henry VI, John de Biofort He was removed from the title of marquis by the king, and the House of Commons petitioned the king to restore Biofort's title. But he himself opposed begging the king, and said: "Marquis is a new honorary title, which is completely unknown to the ancestors. Therefore, you should ignore it indifferently, and don’t think it is wise to accept it.” In the 15th century, after this title steadily maintained its second-level status in the noble title, it was valued by the nobles .Compared with the other 4 ranks of nobility, the number of marquises has always been the least.) "Is your father an arrogant man?" His mouth curved into a wry smile. "I used to think it was arrogance. But then I realized it was more a disregard for the world outside of himself. As far as I know, he never put his own socks on, never put tooth powder on his toothbrush. I doubt it. No privilege he could have survived, in fact I believe he would have starved to death in a room full of food without a servant to bring it to his mouth. He wouldn't hesitate to use the expensive vase for shooting practice target, throwing fox fur coats into the fireplace to extinguish the fire; he even had the forest around the estate perpetually lit with torches and lamps, just in case he should want to walk in it at night." "No wonder you're so poor," said Evie, appalled at the waste. "I hope you're not the same spendthrift." He shook his head. "I haven't been accused of unwarranted overspending. I rarely gamble and I don't have a mistress. But even so, I have a bunch of creditors on my heels." "Have you ever considered pursuing a career?" He glanced at her lightly. "for what?" "Make money." "Jesus, no, boy. Work will distract me from my private life, and I rarely get up before noon." "My father wouldn't like you." "If my ambition in life was to please someone, I'd be in so much pain. Good thing I'm not." The rest of the journey is spent in a friendly frame of mind, with Evie's conflicting and mixed perceptions of her husband.Despite his charm, she couldn't find much respect in him; he obviously had a sharp mind, but he didn't use it in a good direction; besides, he once kidnapped Lillian, betrayed his best friend, It made him obviously untrustworthy, but...she was grateful for his occasional thoughtfulness. Every time he stopped at the station, Sebastian took care of Evie's needs. Although he threatened to let the foot warmers cool down, he always replaced them with boiling hot water.When she was tired, he let her take a nap against his chest; when the carriage bounced over the potholes, he hugged her tightly.Nested in his arms, she felt that he gave her a fantasy that she had never had before.shelter.His hand caressed gently back and forth between her hair, and she heard his voice like a fallen angel whispering. "Sleep, my love. I will protect you."