The Viscount Made Me Do It by Diana Quincy

“Where is Griff?” Hanna scanned the crowded public rooms at Ashby Manor. “I’ve been married less than an hour, and I’ve already lost my husband.”

Mama stood by her side. “I still think you should have wed Nabeel. He’s a good boy.”

“Hanna.” Her cousin Adel appeared beside her. “Or should I call you Lady Griffin now?” he asked with exaggerated loftiness.

“Feel at liberty to call me Princess,” she teased back. It wasn’t easy to hear above the spirited Arabic music flowing from the ballroom. “Who started playing Arabic music?”

“Khalo Adnan and Umo Sameer brought their oud and drums.” Adel lifted his hands to face level and did an Arabic dance move, his pointer fingers swiping from side to side. “When the orchestra took a break, our uncles decided to fill in and provide music that really makes you move.”

“I can just imagine what Griff’s sisters will think.” She moved through the crowd, accepting enthusiastic congratulations and kisses on both cheeks from her relatives.

“Lady Griffin.” Someone came up from behind her.

It took Hanna a moment to realize that was her title now. After a pause, she pivoted. “Yes?”

Griff’s sister Lady Dorcas embraced Hanna warmly. “I haven’t had the chance to welcome you to the family.”

“Thank you.” She paused. “I realize I am not exactly the viscountess you envisioned for your brother.”

“I never imagined anyone could make Griff as happy as you clearly do. And after everything he’s been through, his contentment is all that matters.” Her eyes twinkled. “Besides, I have four very active boys. Having a bonesetter in the family could prove useful.”

“I hope your sisters will feel the same.” Although Griff’s older sisters had been scrupulously polite to Hanna, they were also cool and removed.

Lady Dorcas patted her shoulder. “Maria and Wini will come around once they see how happy you make Griff.”

They parted, and Hanna made her way to the ballroom, where she discovered her cousins had started an energetic dabke dance line, the men leading at the head, women in the middle and the children still learning the steps bringing up the rear. Standing shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped with the people on either side of them, the dancers crossed the left foot over the right twice as the line moved, followed by a small hop.

Hanna’s brother Elias, a skilled dabke dancer, headed up the line, controlling the tempo and sometimes breaking from the line to showcase more advanced moves. To her surprise, William, Griff’s nephew, was at the end of the line with Hanna’s youngest cousins attempting to learn the dance.

Hanna’s eyes widened when she noticed another unlikely dancer in the line. Griff stood between two of her cousins near the front of the line. His eyes were fixed on other people’s feet, as he awkwardly tried to copy the moves. “Griff is dancing?”

Mama, who had caught up with Hanna, tried not to look impressed. “If you had married Nabeel, you would have a husband who already knows how to dabke.”

Hanna kissed Mama’s cheek and went to join the line, cutting in so that she had Griff on one side and her cousin Amal on the other.

Griff squeezed her hand. “There you are.”

“I couldn’t exactly leave you on your own with my cousins. We can be a bit overwhelming to people who are unaccustomed to us.”

She helped him perfect his footwork, calling out “Cross. Cross. Hop. Cross. Cross. Hop,” until he got the rhythm. Soon they were both moving and laughing, perspiring and tired.

When the dance ended, he stole her away. “Let’s get some air.” He led her to the terrace. Hanna watched Rafi enter through another set of terrace doors farther down the ballroom. As they approached the terrace, Lady Winters slipped in from the outside.

“The bride and groom.” Her eyes sparkled. “May I offer my congratulations once again?”

“You may,” Griff said as they sidled past her. “We need some air. What were you doing outside, Selina?”

“Getting some air,” Lady Winters said as she wandered off, “just like you.”

“Come on”—Griff tugged Hanna along—“before someone stops us. We haven’t been alone for a month.”

Hanna craved his touch. “My family is very strict when it comes to allowing a betrothed couple to be alone together. Who knows what could happen?”

“We both know exactly what would have happened if you and I had managed to steal a moment alone together.” He led her onto the terrace. It was a beautiful, clear night. The air was brisk.

“It’s chilly out here.”

He led her to a quiet, out-of-the-way corner and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll warm you up.”

She went willingly. “What if someone sees us?”

“They’ll see a man desperate to kiss his wife.” His mouth met hers, hungry and demanding. She molded her body to his and kissed him back with the same fervor.

“This party cannot be over soon enough,” she said, pressing her lips against his jaw and nipping his ear.

“I agree.” He caressed her breast, his lips at her décolletage. “How soon can we throw the guests out?”

She giggled. “We cannot.”

The sound of a man clearing his throat was followed by the appearance of the butler, who kept his gaze focused on some distant point well away from Griff and Hanna.

“What is it, Wright?” Griff asked tersely.

“It is time to serve supper, my lord and my lady.”

Griff groaned as his hand caressed the side of Hanna’s neck, sending pleasure streaming through her. “Will this day never end?”

“The sooner we have supper, the sooner it will all be over,” Hanna reminded him.

“Excellent point. We’ll be in momentarily.”

Wright bowed. “Very good, my lord.”

“And Wright?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“How many courses does Cook have planned?”

“Six, my lord.”

“Serve the courses quickly. There’s an extra few shillings for each member of the staff if supper is completed in under two hours.”

One corner of the butler’s mouth crooked upward. “I will advise them of your orders, my lord.”

After the butler vanished into the shadows, Griff took Hanna back into his arms. She resisted. “We’ve got to get back to the guests. Or my mother will say I’m an eager bride.”

“And that is a problem?”

“A bride is never supposed to appear eager for the marriage bed. People will think she’s a harlot.”

He released her. “I would not want to be on your mother’s bad side. She might be even more formidable than your grandmother. But I have something for you before we go in.” He drew something out of his pocket. A gold ring and sapphire necklace.

Hanna’s breath caught. “Your mother’s jewelry.”

“Not anymore.” He took her hand and slipped the gold ring onto her finger. “This is inscribed to Lady Griffin, and you are the current holder of the title.”

The ring was heavy on her finger. “It is beautiful.”

“And this belongs to you as well.” He slipped the sapphire around her neck. “It’s been yours since the first time I saw you wearing it at the coffeehouse. It just took me a while to realize it.”

“I shall have to think of an appropriate way to thank you.”

“How about you wear nothing but the jewelry when I finally get you into bed this evening?”

She regarded him through her lashes. “I have other surprises planned for you tonight.”

He stilled. “You do? Such as?”

She blushed despite herself, as she recalled sugaring her entire body. “There are certain ways an Arab bride prepares her body for her wedding night.”

His eyes heated. “What ways?”

She demurred. “You will have to wait and see.”

“You are going to kill me.”

“We could always make supper a buffet.”

“Excellent idea.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go, my love.”

“What will you tell Cook when she finds out her glorious wedding supper is now a buffet?”

He grinned, slipping his arm around her waist. “I’ll tell her the viscountess made me do it.”