THE TREVORS: BOOKS I - IV

by Quinn, Ella

  Charles bent his head so that only she could hear him speak. “I have not heard further from your father. Therefore, I assume he still wishes to meet with me.”

  It had been several weeks now, and, after what her brother had said, she’d lost what little hope she had that her father would agree to her marriage. Not that it mattered. If he refused, she and Charles would be on their way to Scotland. “Let us take a stroll. Meg told me about a folly she discovered.”

  He gave a terse nod. What a toll this must be taking on him. “I am happy to be able to spend some time with you.”

  “Even two days has been too long. I do not know why we had to come to Roselands so soon.”

  The moment they were behind a large hedge, concealed from the house, Charles drew her into his arms. “God, how I’ve missed you.”

  His warmth surrounded her, and his scent made her giddy. “Kiss me.”

  “Gladly.” He lightly brushed his lips across hers before claiming her.

  Euphrosyne reveled in the feel of him as his tongue swept into her mouth and danced with hers. The sound of a gardener on the other side of the hedge made her break the kiss. Putting her finger to her lips, she took his hand and led the way toward privacy via the gate to the river path. She had been given so much freedom since they’d been in Bath she did not dare risk behavior that would result in her liberty curtailed.

  She held Charles’s hand as they ambled along the path and over the bridge. “How have Hawksworth and Bolton been?”

  “Your brother’s been a bear since Meg came to stay here, and Bolton’s not any better.” Charles let Euphrosyne’s hand go and wrapped her arm around her waist. “Then again, neither have I have been very good company.”

  His words filled her heart with a sense of love and joy she’d never experienced before. “I do not like that you haven’t been happy, but I do like that you’ve missed me.”

  “You are everything to me.” Pulling her into his arms again, he claimed her lips, and it was several long moments before he broke the kiss. “Look over there. I think we’ve found the folly.”

  She turned around and saw what he was looking at. Surrounded by a stone wall and a garden displaying a riot of color, the cottage could not have held more than two rooms. It was built from the same white stone as the wall. Bright-blue shutters framed the windows on either side of the door, and lace curtains peeped out from the inside. “Oh, it’s beautiful!” Taking his hand she walked toward the gate. “I wonder if the inside is as pretty as it looks to be.”

  Charles opened the door, standing back for Euphrosyne to step in.

  “Oh, my.” The walls had been plastered and painted white. But what caught her attention was a large bed hung with pale-yellow silk curtains at one end of the large room. At the other end was a fireplace with a kettle, a square table, and four chairs. A picnic basket rested on the table. In the center of the room stood a small sofa and two stuffed chairs covered in flowered chintz, and three small cherry tables. “It is very elegant.”

  “It is extremely well kept.”

  He was right. Everything was spotlessly clean. She glanced at the bed and swallowed. She would not be surprised if the sheets were fresh. Meg had sent them here deliberately. The only question was, did Euphrosyne have the courage of her convictions? She did not doubt Charles, and she could not doubt herself. In any event, they would be married soon.

  Turning, she gazed up at his deep gray eyes and knew his thoughts were the same as hers. “Yes.”

  His gaze heated, turning his eyes to silver. His hands were anchored on her waist. “You have to be absolutely certain.”

  The decision was not difficult. “I love you with all my heart, and I will never leave you.”

  “You have become my world.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I’ll never let anything or anyone tear us apart.”

  Pulling the ribbon on her bonnet loose, she removed her hat and tossed it onto a chair. “I would have you make me your wife.”

  “As I’ll be your husband.” He took her hand. “Our marriage bed awaits.”

  Thank the Lord she had listened from an adjoining room when Meg told Laia what to expect. Needing to do something, Euphrosyne pulled off her gloves, and began to untie Charles’s cravat as he unfastened the ties at the back of her gown. When he cupped her breasts, her fingers faltered. “That is like nothing I’ve ever felt.”

  “Good.” His voice was a low growl. He yanked his jacket and waistcoat off, leaving them in a heap on the floor before pushing her gown down over her shoulders and hips. His lips captured hers, and her petticoat was the next to slide down. Then her stays joined the growing pile on at their feet. “Drat.” Charles quickly gathered their clothing, laying it carefully over the sofa. “Now where were we?”

  “I must remove my half-boots.”

  He glanced down at his own boots, and grimaced. “I wanted this to be romantic for you.”

  Euphrosyne couldn’t help but to laugh. “It will be much more romantic without our shoes.”

  “I cannot argue with you.”

  When he rose from taking off his boots, he drew his shirt over his head, and her mouth dried. She had never seen a male chest before. Dark-sable hair lightly covered his upper torso and dipped down toward his pantaloons. Unlike her nipples, his were almost brown. Spreading her fingers, she touched him, marveling at the difference between the soft curls and the hard muscle of his chest.

  “You’re beautiful.” Wanting to see all of him, she undid his falls, and the hard ridge that her sister-in-law had called a manhood sprang into her hand.

  Yet before she could do anything more than touch it, Charles swooped her into his arms. “If you keep that up, I won’t last, and I intend this to be good for you.”

  He placed her gently on the bed and feathered kisses over her neck as, inch by inch, he peeled down her chemise. When he licked her already hard nipples, she thought she’d come off the bed. Nothing had ever felt as good. Rolling one tight bud between his fingers, he drew the other into his mouth and frissons of pleasure speared through her. Heat coalesced at the apex of her legs, and her hips lifted.

  “Soon, my love.” Charles moved one hand, leaving her breast bereft, but he placed it on her mons and rubbed. The tension rose and Euphrosyne writhed, trying to get relief. Then his finger was inside her as he rubbed faster. “Come for me. Let go.” Just when she thought she could not stand any more, she flew apart, and he entered her with one smooth stroke. “Put your legs around me. I’m sorry for the pain.”

  She couldn’t deny it hurt, but soon the pain began to fade, and he started to move inside her. Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her deeply, his chest hairs abrading her breasts, making her whole body more sensitive to him, as if fires had been lit. Soon the tension she’d felt before began to rise, and this time she welcomed the tremors. Crying her name, he thrust into her twice more before collapsing off to her side, bringing her with him.

  * * *

  Markville held Euphrosyne as close to him as he could. He’d never considered how different the act of sexual congress would be with a woman he loved. The experience was much more than physical. It was as if his soul had melded with hers. Nothing, no one would take her away from him. He would not allow it.

  “I love you.” He stroked her fine curls, wondering how long they could remain here.

  “I love you, too.” Her face was alight with joy, and his heart tightened. He must be the luckiest man in the whole of England if not the world.

  “Are you ready to depart after the wedding if need be?” After this, he could not take any chances.

  She searched his eyes. “You know I will. With your sister and husband and my sister and husband accompanying us, surely we will not have to worry as much about propriety.”

  “I’m not certain how much that will help.”

  He’d been told yesterday that a ship had been arranged.

  “To be honest. I do not care what people think.”

  Only because she had
never been in Polite Society and had no idea how cruel it could be. “We shall make it work.”

  “Yes, we will.” She shifted. “I wonder what is in the basket.”

  “I almost forgot how much you enjoy food.” He ran his hand over her flat stomach. She was one of those people who could eat what they wanted, but one day her stomach would grow big with his child. He could already have planted the seed. His cock started to harden again, but it was too soon. She needed time to recover. “I’ll go look.”

  Opening the basket, he found flasks and napkins. He uncorked one of the bottles. “Lemonade, and it feels like the napkins are wrapped around sandwiches.”

  Slipping out of the bed, Euphrosyne walked naked to him, pulled out a chair and sat. “Let’s eat.”

  They arrived back at the house none too soon. The curricles were being brought around. The two skirted the drive and went through the gardens to the morning room.

  “That was close,” he said.

  “I wish you did not have to leave so soon.”

  Drawing her to him he held her, never wanting to let her go. He wanted to take her with him now, but that would be selfish. She’d worry her family. “I wish I did not have to leave at all.” He kissed her softly.

  Over the next two days, it proved impossible to be alone with Euphrosyne. Somerset arrived and Markville sent a note asking for a meeting before the wedding. He did not receive a reply.

  The evening before the wedding, he dined with Jeremy, Bolton, and Hawksworth. Markville asked Hawksworth, “What is your father waiting for?”

  “He is playing with you.” Hawksworth took a sip of wine. “I strongly advise you not to meet with him. Leave as soon as possible after the wedding.”

  Something inside Markville urged him to do exactly that. But blast it all, he wasn’t a barbarian. Both the duke and he were peers. They were civilized men.

  “I’d do as the man said,” Jeremy commented. “He knows his father best.”

  “That’s a fact,” Bolton agreed. “If the duchess hadn’t been able to convince the old man that Laia would be ruined if she didn’t marry me, this wedding wouldn’t be taking place.”

  “Lord Markville.” Jeremy’s butler entered the drawing room carrying a letter on a silver salver. “This just came for you.”

  Markville took the note. “It’s from Somerset.” He popped open the seal and shook out the letter. “He confirms that he will meet with me after the wedding breakfast.”

  Hawksworth set down his glass. “I suppose you will do what you think is right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll walk out with you.” Bolton rose and turned to Jeremy. “Thank you for a good evening.”

  Markville noticed that none of gentleman had wished him luck. Was he being foolish believing that the duke would treat him fairly? He gave himself a shake. All would be well. It had to be. Surely the duke had some shred of human decency Markville could find in their meeting to appeal to.

  The next day, he couldn’t take his eyes off Euphrosyne as she attended her sister. It wasn’t until the wedding breakfast that he was able to speak with her. “I am meeting with your father after we are done here.”

  “Finally.” She smiled. “Do not let him rob you. He does have a reputation of hard dealing.”

  “I would give him everything I had to be able to marry you with his permission.” He’d attempted to find a property with a common border along the dukedom’s lands, but had no luck.

  “In that case,” she said tartly, “I sincerely hope that the majority of your property is entailed.”

  “Lady Euphrosyne,” said one the many footmen her father had brought.

  “Yes?”

  “Your sister, the Duchess of Bolton, would like to speak with you. I would be happy to take you to her.”

  “Yes, of course.” Euphrosyne threw Markville a grin. “I shall see you soon.”

  A few moments later, he was asked to join the duke in the study. The butler announced Markville, and he entered the room. Somerset, seated behind a large walnut desk, stared at Markville with a cold eye. A sliver of apprehension crawled up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Nevertheless, he bowed. “Your grace.”

  “Lord Markville, I am refusing your request to marry Lady Euphrosyne.” He opened his mouth, but the duke stayed him. “I don’t need to hear about how eligible you are or how much you regard my daughter. I am sure you will be acceptable for some other lady, however, it is my duty to increase the wealth of the dukedom, and you have nothing to offer me.”

  This was not what Markville had hoped for, and he was glad he had made other arrangements. Still, the refusal pricked his pride. Fighting to maintain a well-bred drawl, he said, “Your daughter’s happiness and the life I can give her is not enough? She will want for nothing. I would even be willing to settle an amount on her.”

  “Money, bah! What do I care about that or how she feels about a marriage? Land is real wealth. It’s enough that Lady Aglaia’s marriage brought me nothing. That will not happen with Euphrosyne. She will be wed to someone appropriate within the next few months.”

  Rage like Markville never felt before surged through him. It took all his will power not to reach across the desk and throttle the old cur. This was it. He’d leave with Euphrosyne tonight if not sooner. “I would like to see her before I depart.”

  Having already lost interest in Markville, the duke looked down at his document. “She has already left. You will not see her again.”

  “You will understand if I do not wish you a good day.” Markville turned on his heel. Behind him, the vile cur was cackling. Markville would find Euphrosyne and marry her, and this time, he didn’t care what he had to do to have her in his life. He’d been a fool not to listen to her brother, but he’d not be a fool again.

  Hawksworth and his wife were in the hall when Markville got there. “He said she’s gone.”

  “I know. She’ll be back at Somerset before this evening.” Meg placed her hand on his arm. “We are preparing to depart.” She headed out the door, leaving him no choice but to accompany her. When they reached the drive, he saw his curricle. “Listen to me. You cannot go after her now. He has a small army surrounding the coach. Do not doubt he’s ordered them to shoot you if you interfere. We shall find a way for the two of you to wed. For right now, try to have a little patience.”

  “I am afraid I am out of that particular virtue, my lady.” She patted his arm. “Trust us. We have some experience dealing with Somerset.”

  “Do as my wife says and keep us informed as to your whereabouts.” Hawksworth slapped Markville’s back. “I should have been more forceful in making my suggestion.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered.” The anger he’d felt at the duke was now turned to himself. “I was bound and determined to be honorable.”

  “Being honorable is not in Somerset’s bones.” Hawksworth helped his wife into the coach. “You’ll hear from us soon.”

  Meg was right about Euphrosyne being guarded, Markville discovered. More than half the footmen had departed. They would be keeping Euphrosyne captive. Well, he might not be able to stage a rescue on the road, but he could try to rescue her from her home.

  Chapter 9

  Euphrosyne headed toward the hall, surprised the footman was following her. “I do know the way. You may go back to your duties.”

  “I am tending to my duties.” He took hold of her arm.

  The nerve of the man! “Unhand me.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but you are to depart immediately. The duke’s orders.”

  This could not be happening! “I wish to say farewell to my brother and sister-in-law. Where is my mother?”

  “She will follow later. I’m afraid you must leave now.”

  She struggled but was unable to break his hold on her. No one but the coachmen and outriders were around. Where is everyone? Drat, in the back of the house. The only way they’d hear me is if I screamed.

  She opened h
er mouth to do just that, but she was lifted up and shoved into the coach. Her scream was lost in the rumble of the wheels on gravel and the sound of horses.

  “Oh, my lady.” Turner fluttered her hands. “I never would have imagined they’d treat you this way.”

  “You are here. Did you know we were to leave immediately?”

  “Not like this.” Turner shook her head. “After you went to the wedding this morning, I was told to pack your clothes, but I assumed that we’d be going with the duchess in the morning.” Turner wrung her hands. “If I’d known this would happen, I would have told your mother.”

  Now that Euphrosyne thought about it, Mama would not have been able to help. “They wouldn’t have allowed it.” The duke—she would no longer think of him as her father—had planned it to a nicety. Euphrosyne glanced at her maid. She wanted to trust the woman, but couldn’t bring herself to put her maid’s livelihood at risk. Not only that, any new maid her father would hire would be more gaoler than servant. For now, she would keep her own counsel and look for ways to escape. “It is not your fault. Do you know the name of the footman?”

  “Sittle, my lady. He’s one of his grace’s men.” Meaning that even if she had something with which to bribe him, it would be useless.

  As her maid stared out the window, Euphrosyne thought she saw tears in the woman’s eyes.

  No matter what, the duke would not get away with this.

  She had been home only for a few days when she heard her name being called as she crossed the courtyard.

  Charles! He’d come for her. She rushed toward the portcullis, shouting, “Markville! I’m here.”

  Oh, my God no! They’re lowering the portcullis. Hiking her skirts, she ran as fast as she could. She could make it, even if she had to duck and roll under the thing.