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Christmas with the Charming Earl

Page 4

by Roxie Brandon


  Rebecca’s mind reeled. She wanted to say it back, but her tongue felt heavy. Her lips did not want to move. She took a deep breath, but that did nothing; her heart continued to race ahead. She looked up into his face, and saw that he looked down at her expectantly. She opened her mouth, but the words would not come out.

  “If I say it,” she said, “I am bound to you, and that is impossible. How can this be possible? Oh, Anthony, I fear that we have been living in a dream.”

  “We have,” Anthony agreed, kissing her forehead softly. “But living in a dream is often preferable to living in the real world.”

  He kissed her forehead again. “You do not have to tell me you love me, Rebecca. It is enough for you to know I love you.” Rebecca reclined back into his arms.

  He reached out and took her hand. “So, what do you say? Can we do this? Can I save you from a life that you know you don’t want?”

  “Yes,” she nodded pulling him to his feet, so that the longing to kiss his lips could be replaced with the pleasure of actually doing it.

  Chapter Seven

  ❆❆❆

  When Rebecca walked into the church, her heart gave a tug for all that this wedding was. Her father wasn’t walking her down the aisle. Instead, she took herself down to her betrothed and headlong into her life from here on out.

  Anthony was incredibly nervous as he waited at the altar. When he saw Rebecca coming down the aisle, he couldn’t breathe for a moment. She was incredibly beautiful and he couldn’t believe she was marrying him. He was a lucky man and he vowed to do his best to make her happy.

  Rebecca's deep green eyes were alight with happiness. She was dressed in a silk dress of bright white that embelished the color in her cheeks. The flowers entwined between her fingers holding fast in her hand.

  The service was short, and quite sweet. Rebecca smiled as Anthony said his vows to honor and love her for life. The sun was bright and very warm. Another of God’s miracles, letting her know she’d made the right choice.

  As the priest finally said the words, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Anthony impatiently leaned forward to kiss his bride.

  “Are you happy, my love?” he asked.

  When she nodded, he smiled.

  “I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I promise,” he said.

  Rebecca leaned up to see his face, and smiled back at him. She looked forward to their life together with impatience.

  ***

  Brighton House arose from the landscape like a relic from the past. It was a magnificent turreted castle, an imposing edifice that evoked bygone eras when knights in armour served as the nation’s warriors. The barren hillside behind the castle, its trees stripped of their leafy finery, was a bulwark attesting to the castle’s heritage.

  It was their wedding night. Emma was sleeping in the nursery. Rebecca was finally feeling safe and very happy.

  Anthony undid the three buttons that kept his own torso from Rebecca and pulled off his shirt so that their naked skin touched for the first time. Anthony felt a jolt of electricity run through him.

  "Rebecca," he muttered brokenly. "Oh, God..."

  He sat up, cradling her in his arms, and buried his face in the fragrant masses of hair. Then he leaned away from her, looking into her eyes.

  Rebecca shivered as his fingertips trailed across her bare skin. Quietly she looked into his eyes and kissed him, a slow, deep, yearning kiss.

  Anthony leaned beside her on his elbow, glorying in the sight of her shapely, naked breasts burnished by the firelight. "You are so beautiful," he murmured. "So beautiful..."

  He moved beside her, leaning down to kiss each breast, running his tongue lightly across the small nipples, and she gasped with pleasure.

  All the while he murmured to her, telling her how lovely she was, how he adored her, how much he desired her, while his hands stroked and caressed her slowly, worshipping the lines and curves of her beautiful slender body

  Finally Rebecca lay naked, gazing up at him. She forgot everything, cared about nothing. She existed only for this moment, with this man whom she desired above all men.

  She murmured to him, soft words of pleasure, lost in passion and desire, her body flaming at his sure, gentle touch and his soft loving words. She watched while he stood up to undress, and gazed at him as he towered above her.

  Their mouths were locked together, as their hands travelled to probe and touch and learn. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, Anthony rose above her and looked down into her eyes.

  "Rebecca, please, tell me if you don’t want –"

  She raised one finger to his lips to silence him. "Anthony, I do want, I love you. And I trust you."

  At last, he entered her, filling her with a richness so exquisitely satisfying that she shuddered with joy. Their bodies began to move together. There was a wildness to their rhythm, something exquisite and unbearable.

  She forgot herself. Lost herself inside him, clinging to his deliciously muscled shoulders. And the craziest notion stuck her that she was right where she belonged. The weight of him, the friction of his skin against hers as he held her, felt so right. Like she’d come home.

  Finally they mounted together to overwhelming heights of pleasure and, afterward, lay gasping, locked in each other's arms kissing softly.

  Chapter Eight

  ❆❆❆

  Anthony held Rebecca, rubbing her head, kissing her forehead intermittently, and then he realized he could do something. He felt doubly a fool for never having thought of it before.

  “You did not look into your ruin, did you, Rebecca?” he said, his words running upon each other in his eagerness to speak, in his excitement.

  “No,” she said, as though surprised. “No, I did not. Father had just died . . . I was stunned and . . . no. How strange! Why would I neglect something like that?”

  “You just said,” Anthony said. “Your father had just died. What were you to do? A lady with no previous experience of lawful matters, stunned by her father’s death—”

  “It would be a simple move for a seasoned man, a conniving, evil man to take advantage!” she interrupted, jumping out of his arms and bringing her hand to her face in a show of shock.

  “Anthony, I have been a fool! Of course,” and her words came out in an almost incoherent blur, “he might have been telling the truth. Father might have truly given him everything. But what if there was some trickery? What if father never betrayed me? What if all of this was some awful trick? Ah, Anthony! I have been a fool!”

  “No more than I,” he said, with a sigh. He locked his eyes on hers. “I make you this promise, Rebecca. I will get to the bottom of this. I will learn what really happened with your uncle and your father. And, if it is within my power, I will restore your ladyship. That is my mission, and I take it gladly.”

  ***

  Anthony felt foolish as he waited in the doorway in the center of town, looking for the lawyer.

  Mr. Blunt, as far as Anthony could work out, had to walk by this doorway. It was between his house and his office. Anthony could be quite sure that he’d be able to surprise the man.

  The question was what he would say to the lawyer when he did see him. He hadn’t planned this. He was hoping that something would strike him, that some inspiration would tell him what to do. His mission was clear. But the means of accomplishing that mission were not so clear.

  He waited, and waited. The sun moved higher in the sky. A fierce love for Rebecca beat in his chest. Finally, he saw a short man, walk down the lane toward him.

  He waited until the man was just about to walk by, and then sprung from the shadows. The man started. He let out a yelp. Then, regaining himself, he tilted his head. He looked Anthony up and down, gauging his rank.

  “Excuse me,” the lawyer said, removing his cap and bowing profusely. “You startled me.”

  “Oh, do not apologize!” Anthony said melodramatically, laying his hand on his heart. “You have nothing to
apologize for! You are a saint, though, for thinking you do!”

  This caught the man off guard. His forehead creased. He made to step forward, and then backward. Torn between what to do, he ended up jigging on the spot.

  “Well, yes, Sir,” he said. “Um, thank you, of course.”

  “You are on your way to your office, I assume?” Anthony said.

  Before the man could answer, he grabbed his arm and led him down the street. “I’ll walk with you. Oh, we travellers can do with company, can we not?”

  “I suppose so, Sir,” the lawyer replied, in a quiet, fearful voice.

  Anthony led him through the streets to the offices and then stopped.

  “Oh, I find I am suddenly weary,” Anthony said. “Do you mind if I take a short rest in your office?”

  Anthony let go of his arm and turned on him with the most pathetic smile he could muster. “It would be a great help.” Anthony waited for the lawyer to respond. For a moment it looked as if he might refuse. He took a deep breath and looked Anthony straight in the eye. But then his chest deflated. “Of course, Sir,” he muttered.

  Anthony followed the lawyer through the door and past the reception area into the main office.

  Anthony laid his chin on his hands and smiled broadly. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I am so weary.”

  “Of course not, Sir,” he said.

  “Excellent!” Anthony said. “You are most kind indeed.” Anthony waited for a minute. He didn’t say anything and neither did the lawyer. They just sat and waited, watching each other.

  Finally, now that the lawyer was discomfited and off balance, Anthony thought it was time to start his investigation. “Tell me about Ingram trouble,” he said casually.

  “Sir?” Mr. Blunt's eyes brows shot up. His cheeks quivered. He’d worried the man. “Why would a man of your rank worry about such paltry business as that?”

  “Call me an amateur gossip-monger.” Anthony leaned back in the chair and stared into the man’s face.

  The momentary flash of fear on his face had given the man away. He knew something. Anthony felt it in his bones.

  “I understand that you dealt with that business yourself. It’s strange, is it not, that a father who loved his daughter dearly would betray her like that?”

  “Stranger things have happened, Sir,” Mr. Blunt mumbled.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Anthony waved a hand. “But it is strange, is it not? Can we agree on that?”

  “It is strange,” Mr. Blunt conceded.

  “Ah, so you agree!” Anthony clapped his hands together. The lawyer flinched at the sound. It was clear he wanted to be anywhere but here.

  Anthony dropped the fake smile from his face and gripped the edge of the desk. “I know something cunning was done with that will, sir. And I mean to find out. If you are honest with me now, I will not punish you. Of course, you are not the mastermind. Men like you never are.Perhaps if you share it with me, you will feel better.”

  “Perhaps.” The lawyer was unable or unwilling to meet Anthony’s eyes.

  “You want to tell me,” Anthony said. “I can see it in your face. Do not forget that I spent five years at war. I am an expert when it comes to reading pain and misery in men’s faces. Most of my friends died with the same look you are wearing now.I do not think you are a bad man. I think you have been waylaid. That is all."

  “I thought it was over,” Mr. Blunt said. “It was so easy . . . the girl was so lost. She loved her father dearly. You are correct. He loved her, too. Her father’s death blinded her to things she otherwise would have seen. We were able to lead her where we wanted to quite easily. The forgery was not even that well done, but she did not know or care. She was too tired, too scared."The forgery! Oh, Rebecca! Oh, my love!

  “And I assume,” Anthony said, his voice quivering with rage despite himself, “that her uncle, Mr. Richard Hopkins, paid you.”

  “Yes,” Mr. Blunt said. He lifted his hands in defeat. “This is what we have to do,” Anthony said. “You will accompany me to London, where I have friends who will be able to speed this process along. You will swear before these men that you assisted Mr. Hopkins in this deceit, and that he has no claim on the Ingram property. If you do this, I will use my influence to keep you from punishment. My only objective is to see the true perpetrator punished, and to restore Lady Ingram’s position.”

  Anthony found a paper and pen and slid them across the table. “Write a full account of everything that passed between yourself and Mr. Hopkins, from start to finish.”

  “Now, Sir? It could take some time.”

  “Now,” Anthony confirmed. “The sooner you write it, the sooner I will leave you. For the time being, at least. And this way I can be assured that you will not flee. If you do, I will not vouch for you.”

  Mr. Blunt nodded solemnly, took the paper and pen, and began to write.

  Chapter Nine

  ❆❆❆

  It was Christmas Eve. The wind was chill, and the stars burned with the brilliant sapphire pallor of electric light. Rebecca looked up and saw the stars. They illuminated the darkness and her fears crumbled to dust beneath her feet. The words, the lies, the hatred, the failures--they now lingered at a distance.

  Brighton House looked magnificent, with the scent of pine boughs and the bright colors of holly berries and scarlet ribbons everywhere. Christmas was magical.

  She knew that wounds would eventually heal into scars, some of the permanent, some of them not. No longer did she stand in the shadow of the past. Instead, she marched forward in hope of reaching the stars one day.

  Anthony put his arms around her and kissed her gently.

  “It is done, Rebecca,” he whispered.

  “It is done?” she replied. “What does that mean, precisely?”

  “It means that your uncle was apprehended last night and is right now being transported to London to stand trial. It means that the forgery has been proved and accepted. It means that you will be restored to your position.”

  Rebecca did forget herself then.

  “Hold me!” she demanded.

  “Yes, my love.”

  Anthony leapt forward and wrapped his arms around the love of his life. He kissed her again, with a desperation that jangled with his light-hearted tone as he’d lured her in here. Eager hands tugged at her bodice and they both sighed with satisfaction as he fondled her breasts. He slid her skirt higher, then with a couple of deft movements, her drawers fell to the floor. His exploring hand quickly discovered that she too was needy.

  “Don’t make me wait,” she begged, clinging to his shoulder with one hand while she fumbled at the fall of his trousers. Soon her fingers curled around the heavy, virile weight. He groaned and tilted his hips forward. Anticipation fizzed like champagne in her blood.

  Rebecca moaned encouragement as he hitched her up against the door. The oak was hard against her back, then she was only aware of miraculous, hot fullness as Anthony pushed inside her. Her body quickly adjusted to the unfamiliar angle and pleasure forked through her like lightning.

  Pressing his face into her hair, he began to move with relentless purpose, building the conflagration until she cried out and shook in his arms. For a long, shining time, she rode the waves of her delight. A liquid rush filled her womb before she tumbled back to her feet, legs near to collapse.

  As she and Anthony slid in a heap to the floor, he kissed her with more of that thrilling desperation. With a satisfied sigh, he leaned against the door and she sprawled across him, too exhausted after her shuddering release to move.

  During the wild encounter, her hair had collapsed around her face and she brushed it back as she fought to regain her breath. Every time they made love, he turned her world to fire. His mere presence lit every day to flame.

  He shifted to fasten his trousers, although she could have told him not to bother on her account. She loved every inch of his superb body. She loved every inch of his soul, too.

  Eventually the
heart beneath her cheek calmed from its frantic race and his breathing steadied.

  “That was…better than I imagined. And I’d imagined something unforgettable.” She stirred, but his grip tightened, keeping her close.

  “Anthony, I’m going to have a baby.” She wasn’t sure how he’d react, although she assumed he’d be pleased.

  “A baby.” His smile widened.

  “Yes.”

  “A little girl for me to spoil.”

  “Or a little brother for Emma.”

  He gave a sudden shout of laughter. “Well that’s wonderful news! This is the best Christmas present in the world!"

  He reached out and seized her, hauling her into his arms for a kiss that combined passion with celebration. It was unlike any kiss he’d ever given her.

  “Do you really mean that, Anthony?” Rebecca asked.

  “Rebecca, my dearest wife, I love you with every beat of my heart and every breath I take. And to hear that you’re having my baby makes me the happiest man since time began. I bless the day you came into my life and I thank whatever grace allowed me to make you mine. You’re the center of my life. Let’s celebrate in bed.”

  Her laugh was unsteady. She was still in the grip of poignant emotion.

  “You’re such a man.”

  He laughed back at her. “I am indeed.”

  The End

 

 

 


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