‘I hope you are right. Kapoor is a dangerous individual. There’s no telling what he will do.’ He sighed, taking her in his arms. ‘When we have seen Ahmet and Dhanu on the ship back to India, we’ll go directly to Berkshire. Does that appeal to you?’
‘Absolutely. I cannot understand why anyone would want to be in London all the time, surrounded as we are in Berkshire by the delights and pleasure of the countryside.’
‘I agree, but as young as you are, there will be times when you will hanker for the gay life of the London social scene—for the theatre and the balls where you can enjoy yourself. It will be an exciting diversion from the quietude of Ashurst Park where there are few distractions.’
Rosa looked at him with amused amazement, her lips quirking at the corners as she tried to suppress a smile. ‘I am able to enjoy myself perfectly well in the country.’
William gazed down into her eyes, unable to imagine a future without her by his side. She was smiling up at him, a smile that brightened the room and warmed his heart, and the closeness and sweet scent of her heated his blood. He was impatient for the wedding to take place, when he would make her his wife.
* * *
Rosa became the Countess of Ashurst. The wedding was a quiet affair, hardly the kind befitting an earl, but this was how they wanted it to be. Nevertheless, it was a day of great celebration.
Aunt Clara and Uncle Michael were delighted at the way things had turned out, but Aunt Clara wanted to make quite sure that marriage to the Earl of Ashurst was what Rosa wanted.
‘Will marriage to Lord Ashurst please you, Rosa? Are you quite certain that this is what you want?’
Ever since William had declared his love and asked her to be his wife, Rosa had gone through a great deal of deliberation and heart searching, before deciding that, for better or worse, she would become William’s wife. She could hardly believe how deep her feelings were running, and the joy coursing through her melted the very core of her heart. She loved William and that perfect certainty filled her heart and stilled any anxiety she might otherwise have had. The feeling was so strong there was no room for anything else.
Smiling, she hugged her aunt. ‘Yes, Aunt Clara, it pleases me very well. I love him—I think I have always loved him.’ Her whisper was soft and happy.
‘Then that is all I ask. I shall be glad to see you properly wed,’ she murmured, dabbing at her eyes. ‘My dear sister, your mother, would have been so happy for you—and your grandmother, also. I know you are still in mourning, but she would not have wanted you to wait. She would have told you to grasp the moment.’
* * *
And so it was that Rosa, holding a small posy of roses at her waist, her hand resting on her uncle’s arm, walked down the aisle of the candlelit church to marry William Barrington, the Earl of Ashurst. When she saw him, the few invited guests faded into the shadows beside him. Attired in an olive-green coat, dove-grey trousers hugging his long legs, overwhelming in stature, his dark hair smoothly brushed and gleaming, his presence was like a positive force.
William sensed her entrance and his glance swept the church until, drawn by her beauty, his eyes met hers, wide and direct. The vision of almost ethereal loveliness he beheld, her face serene, snatched his breath away. Something like terror moved through his heart. Dear Lord, he prayed, help me protect and cherish her all the days of my life.
He stepped out and took his place in front of the priest, waiting for her in watchful silence. There was a cool impertinence on his face when he looked at her, his eyes bold and with a twinkle of appraisal in their depths. His lips curved in a crooked smile.
Rosa caught her breath and for a brief moment experienced the same pleasurable feminine sensation she felt when he looked at her with his enigmatic gaze. Scarcely aware of her actions, she moved to stand beside him as he inclined his head to her.
Taking her hand, his long fingers closing firmly over hers, when she raised her eyes to his, he saw in their depths a gentle yielding that almost sent him to his knees. He smiled and she responded to that smile and, in that moment of complete accord, their marriage felt right.
* * *
Later, the celebrations over and the guests having left for their respective homes, William and Rosa were alone at last. The room was hushed and dimly lit around them. William met Rosa’s gaze beneath the long curving sweep of her lashes and admired the flush on the creamy skin of her cheeks, the slim, straight nose and the delicately formed lips, which seemed to beckon the touch of his own. He lifted his hand, his fingers gentle on her jaw, sliding his parted mouth along the smooth satin flesh on her slender neck. He pulled back and saw the yielding softness in her eyes and somewhere deep inside him he felt the stirrings of an emotion that made him reach out and draw her into his arms. She melted against him. The hot, sweet scent of her was intoxicating.
‘Happy?’
‘Ecstatic.’ She ached with the happiness she felt.
‘Your cheeks are pink. You look radiant.’
‘Because of you.’
‘I love you, Lady Ashurst, and now we are alone I will prove to you the ardour you have stirred in me.’
With his eyes holding hers like a magnet, with infinite care he unpinned her hair. When the last pin was out she gave her head a gentle shake and her hair tumbled down her back in a living, shining mass. William marvelled at its luxuriant, thick texture and colour, running it through his fingers, pausing now and then to kiss her lips, her cheek, her neck.
Rosa’s eyes drifted closed and her breath came out in a sigh as she kissed him softly and felt his lips answer, moving on hers. Drawing back, she looked at him, seeing how his eyes were beginning to smoulder.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ William murmured, his long fingers beginning to unfasten the buttons down the front of her dress.
‘Shall I ring for Dilys to come and undress me?’
‘Since I gave your maid permission to retire and there is no other lady’s maid on hand, allow me to oblige. Besides, I prefer to do the undressing myself. I would like to see what I missed on the night when my brain was fogged with the drug Kapoor fed me.’
The sight of Rosa’s naked body—a miracle of ripe curves and glowing flesh, every shade of pale gold in the wavering blur of the flickering light—made William’s heart slam against his ribs. Her legs were long and perfect, her breasts high and proud. Every nerve William possessed stilled as slowly his gaze traced the gentle swell of her thighs, over her taut stomach and minuscule waist.
Rosa’s throat dried. His gaze focused upon her body and the ardour in his eyes was like a flame to her senses. She was unable to free her rational mind from the overwhelming tide of desire that claimed her, fuelled by a whirlpool of emotions.
‘When you’ve looked your fill, William, kindly remember you are supposed to be a gentleman and take off your clothes, too—unless you intend to make love to me with them on.’
Nimble-fingered and driven by a sense of racing urgency, Rosa began fumbling with the fastenings at his throat. Desire a physical torment, he disposed of his clothes and, drawing her close, held her tight against him.
‘You take my breath away,’ he whispered.
Winding her arms about his neck, she placed feather-light kisses on the solid wall of his chest and his sinewed shoulders. William’s heart constricted with an emotion so intense, so profound, that it made him ache. His hands glided restlessly, possessively, over her—her breasts, the small nipples quivering against his palms—sliding his hands down her back and over the gentle swell of her buttocks. Her breath was sweet against his throat. She was warm, womanly, long and slender, curving against his body, doing what she could to get even closer. William’s male body rejoiced in it.
To Rosa, the moment was one of poignant discovery as her fingers slid through the short, dark matting of hair on his chest. His jaw was set, his mouth firm yet sensual, his eyes hard and dark with
passion—and she could not believe he was hers—her husband.
When he pulled her down onto the bed their restraint broke. As he held her tight against him, his kisses consumed her in the violent storm of his passion. His mouth moved to circle her breasts, kissing each in turn—his lips then travelled down to her stomach, caressing, teasing, until Rosa moaned with pleasure and soared with every long sweep of his hands on her flesh.
She was operating wholly on instinct since her wits had flown. Her neck craned back and her fingers laced through his thick hair as she abandoned herself to his lips, his hands, intimate and provocative, exploring the secrets of her body like a knowledgeable lover, savouring the exquisite tension, initiating new delights. Pleasure burned through her, expanding, mounting, until her body shuddered with the force of her passion. So lost was she in the desire he was so skilfully building inside her that she scarcely noticed when he shifted position and eased her body beneath his own. The warmth of him pressed fully against her as she wrapped her arms about him, opening up to him, her kisses driving him on, inciting his passion until he could no longer control the force that had claimed him and she gasped as the bold, fiery brand intruded into her delicate softness, penetrating deep within her. No holding back, she strained towards him with trembling need, each instinctive, demanding thrust pushing her closer to the edge and bringing exquisite pleasure.
William revelled in her eagerness, in her unfettered sensuality, a sensuality that spoke to his own as she responded to his passion, his desire. No moment had ever felt like this. He was filled with a sense of rightness, as if to possess her had been his goal ever since she had sought him out at Ashurst Park. They strained together, no longer two separate entities, but one being, swept away, hurtling and twisting, onwards and upwards in a frenzied wildness, striving to reach the same goal.
Afterwards, when their passion had finally exploded in a burst of extravagant pleasure, in languid exhaustion and bone-deep satisfaction, they lay close together, limbs entangled, facing each other, breathless from exertion, bodies aglow, limbs weighted with contentment, clinging to the fading euphoria. William listened to her contented sigh and watched her open her eyes. Smiling, she nestled closer. William placed a kiss on her forehead.
‘You are exquisite, my love. How do you feel?’
‘Wonderful,’ she whispered, firm in the belief that her husband was a man of extraordinary skill and prowess. He had taken her not just sexually, but with a deeper, infinitely more alluring need—something profound. ‘I have no doubt in my mind that you are the same man who made love to me before.’
Shuffling onto her stomach and raising herself up on her elbows, her hair falling over his chest, she gave him a slumberous smile. ‘What we did was very special to me.’ She placed a soft kiss on his lips. ‘Thank you.’
Rolling her onto her back, he swept the hair from her smooth cheek, his eyes warm and serious and very tender. ‘It was my pleasure, Countess.’
The words were so painfully exquisite that Rosa thought she would die of it. ‘I have to ask myself is this the man who once thought love had no place in his life, letting me believe that you had no love to give. What happened to change your mind, William?’
‘You, Rosa—and Dhanu. I have come to love that boy as if he were my own. Can you ever forgive me for what I did to you—when I broke off our wedding?’
‘There is nothing to forgive, William. I know why you did that. Until we met again in London I had not realised the full extent of how your leaving India, your cousin’s death followed so soon by your friend Tipu had damaged you emotionally. Now I fully understand. But things change, people change—you have changed. In fact I think you are rather wonderful and one day I will give you a son.’
‘Suddenly that no longer seems important. I have come to realise that as much as I want a son, I want you more, so feel free to fill the nursery at Ashurst Park with as many daughters as you wish.’
Nothing touched Rosa more than this, which was all the proof of his love that she needed. Nestling closer to him, Rosa closed her eyes, letting the warmth deepen inside her, driving out everything else. ‘Then what are we waiting for?’ she breathed. ‘I don’t want this to stop—ever.’
Touching her cheek with his fingertips, and then wrapping his long fingers around her chin, he tilted her head back, his eyes smiling into hers. ‘Anything to oblige.’
Again his mouth covered hers, and so the night went on.
* * *
The East India Dock was a scene of great variety and activity. The Company was rich and powerful and well organised, owning the largest ships that used the port of London. The smell of coffee beans, tar, timber and hemp, permeated the air. The vessel in the fleet that was to return Dhanu to India was boarding.
Dhanu was eager to return to India and yet he was upset because he was leaving William and Rosa. All the way to the docks he tried to be brave and not cry, but when he saw the huge Company vessel that was to take him home, his face was alight with excitement. For William and Rosa it was a time of sadness. Dhanu had come to mean a great deal to them both, yet as much as they hated the prospect of parting from him, they were hopeful for his future with his father.
They were wrapped warmly in winter clothes, for the weather was extremely cold with a thin layer of ice on outer reaches of the still water in the dock. William was uneasy as he made arrangements for the baggage to be taken on board.
‘I’ll go on board and make sure everything is in order.’ William’s unease had transmitted itself to Rosa and she wanted to make sure the quarters he had reserved were adequate for their journey to Bombay.
All of them went on board. Mishka and Dhanu settled happily into the cabins allotted to them and, after saying farewell, William and Rosa left the ship, pausing when they stood on the dock to take a last look at the mighty vessel.
William observed the sadness of Rosa’s expression. ‘What are you thinking?’ he asked, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.
She shrugged. ‘I was just thinking of Dhanu going back to India. It’s right that he should go back to his father but I can’t help wondering what the future holds for him—heir to a rajah. It seems such a heavy burden for such young shoulders.’
William nodded. ‘My regret is that Tipu will not be there to watch over him, to guide him through the years. But the Rajah loves his son and I know Dhanu will make him proud.’
* * *
The man standing on the dock as silent as a shadow watched William Barrington leave the ship. His features became ugly, contorted with anger and a wild hatred. If what Barrington had told him was true and his sister had been banished, then nothing remained of the prestige that had marked his existence at the court of the Rajah of Rajinda.
Raw emotion and immense disappointment that he had failed in his mission to rid his sister of Dhanu had robbed him of any kind of reason, any kind of judgement. He blamed William Barrington for having made it impossible for him to get at the boy and he wanted to make him suffer with his bare hands, until he was too helpless to ask for mercy. His eyes narrowed and gleamed with a murderous light. This time he would not drug him, which had been his only means of punishing him when they had met at the children’s institute, he was going to kill him.
His eyes were intent on William.
* * *
Sensing he was being watched, William turned his head and scanned the crowd of people milling around him. Kapoor was standing openly on the edge of the dock, making no attempt to hide himself. He bore no resemblance to the man who had once enjoyed his elevated status as the Rani’s much-favoured brother, lavishly dressed in colourful silken robes and glittering with exquisite jewels. Now he was dirty and unkempt—his time spent in London had not been kind to him. William felt tension coiling in the air around him. The shock of seeing Kapoor had worn off and he appraised the situation. Kapoor’s eyes were wild and darker than blood, but the ferocious r
age and hatred contorting his face told William that he was very much alive.
‘Damn you, Kapoor. I might have known you’d be waiting.’
William moved slowly, his eyes fixed firmly on him. Kapoor confronted him, then, with a roar of rage, flung himself at William. The two men scuffled, becoming a twisting, writhing mass. Condemned by his struggle for power in a faraway court, Kapoor must have known in his heart that it was too late for him. Finding himself released from his adversary’s grip, he stepped back. For a moment he looked at William, his eyes red from exhaustion and tortured by a sense of failure.
With her heart in her mouth, Rosa watched in horror as the scene began to unfold before her eyes. She watched William reach for him, but Kapoor slipped out of his grasp and fell backwards. Teetering, he took a step back, but finding only air, losing his balance, he fell over the edge of the dock. The ice cracked beneath his weight and he disappeared into the dark watery depths beneath.
With her heart beating heavily, running to the edge of the dock she stopped and looked down. Kapoor had disappeared. There was nothing but a black hole in the thin layer of ice.
‘The ice! He’s gone through the ice! What can we do?’
They waited a moment, hoping Kapoor would surface, but there was no sign of him. What had happened had drawn a large crowd. Acting swiftly, William thrust Rosa away from him. After removing his jacket, grim-faced, he moved to the edge of the dock. Aware of what he intended, Rosa stepped forward, horror written all over her face.
‘William—no. You cannot go into the water. It’s freezing. Kapoor may be dead by now.’
‘She is right.’ Having accompanied them off the ship, Ahmet stepped forward, concerned by William’s decision to go into the icy water. ‘It will be impossible to withstand the cold beneath the ice for long.’
A Vow for an Heiress Page 23