The Second Seduction

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The Second Seduction Page 36

by Shelley Munro

His father made no pretence of eating, his plate lying

  untouched in front of him. He looked old and frail. “Th

  is is

  my fault. I was young and stupid, but I swear I never knew

  Justin was my child until Margery told me. By then, it was

  too late. I was married. Margery married soon after. I don’t

  think Gerald knew until afterwards. We never spoke of it.”

  Th

  e earl’s faded blue eyes drifted back to the past. “I never

  saw Margery or the boy until after Gerald died in the hunting

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  SHELLEY MUNRO

  accident. I tried to do my best for the boy, but he wanted

  more than I could give.”

  Lucien felt a twinge of sympathy. His father hadn’t

  acted honorably and suff ered for it. “Father, Justin can’t hurt

  anyone now. Put it in the past where it belongs.”

  Th

  e earl turned to him, his eyes moist with tears. “I’ve

  waited a long time to hear you call me Father. Glad you

  remembered.” He stood and Tickell handed him a cane. “I

  believe I will retire to my chamber.” He hobbled from the

  breakfast room. Th

  e cane tapped on the fl oor, highlighting

  his slow, pained progress.

  Rosalind placed her eating utensils down. “I intend to

  retire to my chamber as well. Last night was a long one.”

  “Would you like a maidservant to attend you, Lady Ro-

  salind?” Tickell asked.

  Lucien stood and moved behind Rosalind. “Send hot

  water for a bath, please, Tickell. I will attend my wife.”

  Tickell barely blinked at the order. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Scandalous,” Lady Augusta snapped.

  Charles laughed, and she nailed him with a dark glare.

  She gave a haughty sniff . “Th

  is treasure business is stuff

  and nonsense. A tale. Th

  ere are no jewels. Tell me more of

  this map.”

  Lucien took Rosalind’s arm. A sense of rightness accom-

  426

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  panied the gesture. “I believe I’ll retire too,” he murmured

  next to her ear. “We’ll leave them to argue about the possibili-

  ties of treasure.”

  Her blue eyes danced with silent humor. “Yesterday was

  very tiring. I might sleep for two days.”

  “Good morning,” Lucien said, nodding at his aunt and

  Charles. Th

  ey strolled down the Long Gallery. Lucien saw

  the portraits with new eyes.

  His ancestors.

  “It’s good to have family,” Rosalind remarked.

  Lucien stared at her, amazed at her uncanny timing. “I

  was just thinking that. I know their names.”

  “I know you do.” She smiled gently. “You know that the

  villagers believe I am a witch.”

  “Rumors,” he dismissed.

  “You know they’re not.”

  His dark eyes danced suddenly and a slow smile bloomed

  on his mouth. “I’ll have to remember not to touch you if I

  want to keep a secret.”

  Th

  e tight grip around her heart loosened, but still she

  wanted reassurance, to hear the words. “Does my gift frighten

  you? Appall you? It’s likely I’ll pass it on to our children.”

  Lucien heard frustration and bitterness in her voice.

  “You’ll help our children, should they inherit your gift,” he

  427

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  said, knowing it was nothing less than the truth. “Do you

  read my thoughts all the time?”

  “I can, if I concentrate. When we were fi rst married, it

  was more diffi

  cult, but now . . .” Th

  e color in her cheeks deep-

  ened to a fl attering pink and her eyes lowered.

  Since they’ d made love. Lucien grinned as smug male

  pride fi lled him.

  “I can block your thoughts, if I concentrate,” she blurted.

  “It’s like eavesdropping. It’s not a polite thing to do so I try to

  block most of the time.”

  “Except when you’re investigating strange goings on at

  the castle,” Lucien commented. “Th

  en you endanger yourself

  by using the gift.” Th

  ey paused outside Rosalind’s chamber

  for Lucien to push open the door.

  “You’re making fun of me,” she murmured.

  Lucien stared down at her bowed head. While her gift

  wouldn’t make their marriage an easy one, their relationship

  would be passionate and loving. Of that, he was in no doubt.

  Rosalind might be tiny, but she was feisty. He’d discovered he

  loved spirited women, and one in particular.

  A maid looked up as they strolled into Rosalind’s cham-

  ber arm in arm.

  “Leave us,” Lucien said, not taking his gaze from his

  wife. He heard the maid’s giggle and Rosalind’s soft gasp.

  428

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  “Tell Tickell we’d like the bath sent to my chamber.”

  “Yes, milord.”

  Th

  e door clicked shut behind the maid. Th

  e air throbbed

  between them. Lucien swept a hand down Rosalind’s soft

  cheek, his hand grazing the pulse point at her throat. Her

  breath hitched, the pulse beating faster.

  “I love you, Rosalind,” he whispered. He slid pins from

  her hair until long strands fell loose around her shoulders.

  Slowly her head rose and her gaze connected with his. A

  jolt of recognition seared through his body.

  She smiled softly. “I know. I love you too.” She stood on

  tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  Lucien stepped away from temptation to strip off his

  crumpled black jacket. His blood-speckled shirt followed,

  then his hands went to his breeches. “I’m not sure you do,”

  he said, his voice quiet. Solemn. “But, you will after the next

  two days.”

  Th

  e color in her cheeks heightened, but her gaze never

  wavered. “I like the idea,” she mused. Her blue eyes danced

  like a rippling Italian pool. “Show me,” she demanded.

  One hand trailed lazily down his bare chest, while pure

  love blazed across her face. Lucien’s heart slammed against

  his ribs. His pulse sped. “With pleasure, my lady. We have an

  heir to produce.” As he spoke, his hands busily undid laces

  429

  SHELLEY MUNRO

  and pushed fabric aside to reveal skin. He bent and pressed

  his lips to the tender place where her neck joined her shoulder.

  His teeth nipped lightly before soothing the bite with a tender

  press of his lips. Rosalind made a soft sound of approval and

  arched her neck to give him better access.

  “Do you like that?” Lucien didn’t wait for an answer

  but whisked her dress down, baring her breasts. His breath

  caught as he smoothed the back of his hand across her plump

  curves. So beautiful. Lucien had diffi

  culty believing Rosalind

  was his wife.

  “I’m not only your wife, but I love you,” she murmured,

  her blue eyes twinkling up at him.

  “It’s going to take me time to get used to you doing that


  — reading my mind.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rosalind murmured. “I . . .”

  Lucien stopped her apology with a kiss. His lips slid across

  hers biting and tasting. Tormenting. Desire stirred, riding him

  hard. She was so sweet. His. A second chance at love.

  He slid his hands down her shoulders and cupped her

  breasts before scooping Rosalind off her feet with a sud-

  denness that made her squeak. Lucien carried her over to

  the bed. After stripping off her dress, shoes and stockings,

  Lucien yanked off his breeches and joined her. He drew her

  close, angled his mouth over hers and laced his hands into

  430

  THE SECOND SEDUCTION

  her long hair.

  “Ah, Lucien,” Rosalind murmured. Th

  eir naked limbs

  brushed together. Slowly, he explored her body with careful

  attention to detail. He touched her breasts, her shoulders,

  her belly, and her legs until she ached for his possession.

  Lucien wedged her thighs apart and surged into her body,

  kissing her fi ercely at the same time. Rosalind arched into

  him . Frissons of pleasure spilled through her as they rocked

  together. Th

  e sensation built, growing bigger and bigger it

  exploded inside her.

  For a long time after, Rosalind clung to Lucien’s power-

  ful shoulders, savoring the closeness, the feeling of together-

  ness, of being one with him.

  Th

  is was security, and she was fi nally home.

  431

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  A Lost Touch of Bliss

  Chapter 1

  Wareham Castle, Cumberland, 1196

  “Please come to Falcon’s Craig,” the note read. “I

  am in need of your unique services. I own Villa

  Delphino on the Italian coast. It is yours if you will aid

  me.” Amice de Monceaux read the Earl of Hawksdown’s

  boldly scrawled letter for the second time and crushed the

  vellum in her fist.

  Then she started shaking. How could Cain ask this of

  her? Tempt her with the one thing he knew she had always

  dreamt of ever since her brother told her stories of the sun-

  drenched land. And why did he own the villa? That was

  her dream.

  3

  Amy Tolnitch

  Her stomach churned with memories, too many, too

  clear even now. After five years, she could still feel Cain’s

  arms around her. And could still hear his calm voice

  saying, “I am betrothed,” before he walked away.

  The door to her chamber opened slowly. “Amice, dear?

  Are you in here?”

  “Aye, Mother.” Amice stuffed the vellum under her

  mattress and crossed the rush-covered floor to take her

  mother’s arm.

  Lady Eleanora pulled free and paced across the

  chamber, her pale fingers fluttering like butterflies in a

  meadow. “I cannot find Beornwynne’s Kiss. Your father,

  the whoreson, must have hidden it again.”

  Amice took a deep breath, no longer startled by her

  mother’s language. And, truth be told, she accurately

  described her late father. “Mother, the necklace is right

  here.” She opened a trunk and lifted out a carved box,

  placing it in her mother’s hands. “ ’Tis safe, as always.”

  Her mother sat on the stone ledge in front of the window

  slit and opened the box. She gathered up the heavy gold

  and amethyst necklace in her gnarled fingers.

  Amice laid a hand on her mother’s shoulder and felt

  bones, as if she held a tiny bird beneath her palm. “Would

  you like to go sit in the garden, Mother?”

  Her mother’s brow furrowed, and she tilted her head to

  stare at Amice. “Where is Isolda? I told her to get my blue

  gown ready for the feast tonight.”

  “Mother, Isolda died last year.” Amice kept her voice

  4

  A Lost Touch of Bliss

  even, though she wanted to scream at the loss of the vibrant

  person who had been her mother and friend.

  Blinking quickly, her mother looked around the

  chamber, as if she expected Isolda to pop out from behind

  the bed at any moment. “Aye, of course.” She gave a small

  laugh. “I was confused for a moment. Poor Isolda. How

  I miss her.”

  Amice squeezed her mother’s shoulder and took a deep

  breath. “Come with me outside. ’Tis a beautiful day.”

  “What were we talking about?”

  “Beornwynne’s Kiss.”

  “Of course. I . . . forgot.” Her mother dropped the

  necklace, grabbed Amice’s hands and squeezed tight. Too

  tight. Amice felt her mother’s frail body tremble.

  “Mother,” she began.

  Her mother’s gaze clouded. “Beornwynne’s Kiss will

  protect me, see me safe across the river when I die.”

  “And you have it.”

  When her mother looked up at her, her gaze was far

  away. “Is this it?” she asked, her lips trembling.

  Amice stared down at the top of her mother’s head,

  the strands of silver hair mixed with white, and her heart

  splintered. “Mother, all is well.”

  Her mother patted Amice on the hand and rose. She

  wobbled and caught herself for a moment with her hand on

  the seat, waving Amice away with the other. “I believe I

  shall go down to the kitchen and see if Cook has prepared

  any meat pies.”

  5

  Amy Tolnitch

  “ ’Tis a good idea.” Amice watched her mother’s

  departure with a heavy heart, the knowledge that she was

  dying an aching lump in her belly.

  The’ only reason Amice remained at Wareham was to

  care for her mother. And by Michaelmas, her brother, the

  Earl of Wareham, would be wed to a woman who made it

  clear Wareham would have only one mistress.

  Soon, she would have no place.

  She closed her eyes and envisioned soft sand, a sparkling

  blue sea, and golden sunlight. Yes, there she could find

  peace. Take what Cain offers, her inner voice urged. Take

  it and flee to warmth and beauty.

  How simple it sounded, but in her heart she knew it

  would take every scrap of strength and pride she possessed.

  Five years ago Cain Veuxfort had nearly destroyed her.

  Had taken her heart into the palm of his hand and then

  crushed it in his uncaring fist.

  Her mouth curved in a wry smile. Now, it appeared he

  had a troublesome ghost who would not leave him alone.

  He needed her, the Spirit Goddess. She would be a fool

  not to take everything she could gain from Cain Veuxfort.

  Aye, he would give her what he offered and more.

  And she would be free.

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  6

  Lady Dragon

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  What will a lady do to keep all she holds dear?

  Lady Celeste Brystowe has very little left in the world; her

  ancestral home, Ambellshire; a haunting remembrance

  that threatens to destroy her life; and a dark secret she

  will do anything to protect. The last thing she needs,

  or wants, is a man in her life. Particularly the one man

  who can unravel the fabric of deceit she has woven, and

  leave her with nothing but a memory of betrayal.

  What must a man do to take what is his?

  Devon de Grenfeld has it all, and as liege lord of Ambellshire,

  goes to accept the oath of fealty that is due him. He expected

  it to be a matter easily taken care of. He did not expect to

  become entangled in a web of intrigue, or to be attracted to a

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  Together . . .

  Devon and Celeste might put the past to rest and salvage

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  LUCY HART IS SETTING OUT ON THE

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  On the verge of turning thirty, the overly responsible

  Postmistress of Colonias, New York is planning to

  meet a man in Atlantic City. Only known to her

  from their three year correspondence, she is hoping

  to find her life begin with this virtual stranger.

  BLACKIE LADUKE IS TAKING A VACATION FROM

  A LIFE OVERFLOWING WITH ADVENTURE . . .

  Escaping the heat of New York City, along with matrimonial

  heat coming his way, roguish Blackie is intrigued when

  Lucy mistakes him for her intended companion. At first,

  he enjoys shocking the prim Lucy, but he soon finds

  himself wanting to be a man worthy of her interest.

  When these two very different worlds collide, can

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  CATHERINE KEAN

  ANCE ESIRE

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  Desperate to save her brother R

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  udd from being condemned

  as a traitor, Lady Rexana Villeaux must dance in disguise

  at a feast for the High Sheriff of Warringham. Her goal

  is to distract him so her servant can steal a damning

  missive from the sheriff ’s solar. Dressed in the gauzy

  costume of a desert courtesan, dancing with all the

 

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