Two Wicked Nights

by Quince, Dayna

  His stomach tightened. “You do? But how?”

  “I’m not sure. I need to speak to Violet. She always has good ideas, better than mine usually.”

  He exhaled. Their minds were synced as usual. “I think it’s time. I can’t stand hiding and lying like this.”

  “I know you can’t.” She gestured to the room. “This was always a temporary solution.”

  He cupped her cheek. “But soon it will be permanent.”

  She smiled and he kissed her lips, sealing that smile on his heart. “So what do we do?”

  “I don’t want to make things worse by revealing my presence here. Your mother won’t appreciate the scandal any more than I will.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  She pressed her forehead to his. “This will be our last night together, and tomorrow before everyone wakes, I’ll go back to Selbourne. Violet and I will think of something to convince your parents that this is real. I have to show them I love you as much as they do.”

  He pulled away and frowned. “You don’t have to prove yourself to them. I love you. That is all they need to know.”

  “No it isn’t. They are afraid for you. They don’t know me from Eve and have convinced themselves I’m something I’m not. I have to change their minds. I have to show them who I am.”

  He nodded, not wanting to show how he felt, how his heart pounded at the thought that she would face them, and they could hurt her more than they already had. All his life he’d tried to protect her, from hunger, from pain, from lecherous boys and leering men. But she knew what she was doing. Bernie was a rebel. She was strong, stronger than him in ways that he hadn’t understood before now.

  He lay back, pulling her to his side. “So this is our last night together?”

  She rested her cheek over his heart. “Until we’re married.”

  “We can be in Scotland in four hours,” he said. He felt her grin into his skin.

  “Your mother will want to see you marry, even if it is to me.”

  He snorted. “I’ve already waited too long for this. How soon can we marry?” As he spoke, he cupped her bottom, urging her to lie on top of him.

  She straddled his hips, her heat pressing on his rigid manhood. She smiled coyly. “What is it exactly you don’t want to wait for?”

  He grabbed her hips, his skin tingling, his blood rushing to his groin. He bunched her chemise at her waist and yanked it over her head, her bubbly laughter filling the room. He envisioned all the ways he could make love to her, but he didn’t want to hurt her. It was too soon after losing her virginity, and she was probably sore.

  He bit back a groan as she undulated her hips, grinding against his length.

  “You need time to heal after last night,” he said, his teeth clenched.

  She leaned forward, balancing her hands on his chest. “I’m not fragile. Don’t pretend you don’t want to be inside me. I want you inside me.”

  “It could hurt still.”

  She pressed her breasts to his chest, folding her arms and resting her chin on her hands. “Or it could feel wonderful, like it did last night.”

  He pressed his eyes closed. Why was he arguing? She was wet, sliding her softness against him. He could climax if she kept moving as she was.

  He gripped her hips to keep her still. “You’ll tell me if it hurts?”

  “I promise.” She moved to get off him.

  He held her in place, adjusting his hardness to her entrance. “I’ve never done this before, but I’ve heard it gives you more control.”

  She swiveled her hips, teasing the head of his manhood with her slick flesh.

  He thrusted up, teasing her in return, and she gasped.

  “Oh, Chester. That’s feels so…wicked.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

  He held her above him. He didn’t want to thrust into her if she wasn’t ready.

  “You’re in control, Bernie. Slide down.”

  Her brow creased as she circled her hips, torturing them both, taunting their aching bodies. At last she sank down, slowly and only a little at a time. He tensed, her tight sheath claiming him in small degrees. Sweat prickled on his forehead and chest. He wanted to drive into her but he held himself still, his pulse galloping. He willed himself to remain still and not come.

  He didn’t want to hurt her. His experience was barely more than hers, but he could only guess that her flesh would still be tender after their lovemaking last night.

  She gasped and sank lower and his bollocks tightened, threatening to spill his seed before he was completely inside her.

  Her exhale shimmered out of her as she seated herself completely and opened her eyes.

  “Oh, this feels extraordinary.”

  He smiled tightly.

  “Are you all right?”

  He nodded, focusing on not bruising her hips with his hands. “You can rock back and forth or slide up and down like this.” He showed her how to move, clenching his teeth as she adeptly took over, her breasts taunting him. He reached up and cupped her breasts, brushing her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned, rocking her hips, closing her eyes again. Chester focused inward, reining in his body. His blood sang with the need to release, the pressure inside him building. He bit his tongue, the pain easing the urge.

  Her sighs grew louder, and her strokes quicker. He prayed she was close, thrusting faster to meet her hips, teasing her pebbled nipples with his hands. She arched her back, crying, shaking as she fell forward. Chester caught her, wrapping her in his arms, pumping into her and letting the beast inside him loose. It was only seconds before his own climax crashed through him, roaring like a fierce wind.

  They lay there, breathing hard against each other, sweat cooling their bodies. Chester pulled the coverlet over them and held her, closing his eyes.

  He didn’t want this to end, not even for a day, let alone the weeks he may have to wait before they were married. How had he lived without this—without her this close to him? How had he not noticed the hole she now filled in his heart? It must have always been there because now his heart ached with fullness.

  She moved to his side and he kissed her one more time before she fell asleep.

  He doubted he would sleep, but he was content to lay awake and listen to her breath until the sun rose tomorrow.

  “I’ll leave before first light,” she said sleepily.

  “I should escort you to the castle.”

  “Nonsense. You have to stay here. To walk me to the castle and back will take too much time. We can’t be seen together until later. I will speak to Violet and send word to you when we have a sound plan.”

  He hated to let her go alone. He hated to let her go at all. “Very well. But I don’t like it.”

  She yawned. “You never do. I suspect you’ll try to manage me well into our dotage.”

  He grinned. He liked that image. Both gray and wrinkled, and Bernie still coming up with wild ideas, and him trying to dissuade her no matter how futile. He pictured their offspring all around them, laughing at their antics. He closed his eyes and wished the picture in his mind would become a dream, or better yet, a vision of the future to come.

  Chapter 21

  Bernie hugged her cloak tightly as she scuttled toward the back of the house, praying she wouldn’t be seen. She passed a hall, glimpsing a figure in white robes, the soft whimpering of crying reaching her.

  She froze, her heart pounding, her blood turning to ice.

  Was that a ghost?

  She pressed against the wall, afraid to take another step, and tried to rationalize what she’d seen.

  There is no such thing as ghosts. Are there? Though there were so many stories, countless accounts.

  She heard the whimpering again and then a sniff.

  Someone is crying.

  That thought calmed her enough to take a second look. Perhaps that person was hurt or needed help of some kind. Bernie couldn’t just walk away without taking another peek.

  She popped her head aro
und the edge of the hall quickly and there stood a figure in white staring out a window, weak dawn light illuminating her weathered face. She clutched a handkerchief in her bony white fingers and stared out, a choked sob shaking her frame.

  Bernie’s fear turned to anger. It gave her no pleasure to see Lady Kirkland upset. Bernie should turn away. They had a plan, a good plan, but faced with this moment, where they were completely alone, Bernie couldn’t just leave. She didn’t want to offer the woman comfort. Lady Kirkland didn’t deserve comfort. Bernie wanted to shout at her with rage for every moment of pain Chester felt. And this was as good a chance as any. But she couldn’t shout and wake the whole house. It would ruin their plan. But if Bernie could speak to her woman to woman, perhaps it would help.

  They’d never spoken alone or had any semblance of a real conversation. Lady Kirkland had always avoided Bernie’s presence. But now she couldn’t. They were utterly alone.

  Bernie approached slowly.

  Lady Kirkland didn’t move from her stance before the window. As Bernie closed in, she softly cleared her throat.

  Lady Kirkland jumped and faced her, her eyes widening.

  “Don’t be alarmed, my lady.”

  Lady Kirkland clutched the handkerchief to her bosom.

  Bernie wanted to snort. Does she think I’m going to rob her?

  “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Scotland.”

  “That was a ruse. I’ve been in Chester’s room the entire time.”

  Her mouth dropped open, gulping like a fish out of water. “You seek to shame us! To ruin us!” She gasped, her thin voice frail.

  Bernie regarded her. She seemed haggard, with deep purple bags under her eyes. Had she been up all night?

  “I want nothing of the sort. You wanted to shame and ruin my sisters and me, if you recall. Which is why I pretended to go to Scotland.”

  “What is it you want then? We won’t support a marriage. We will cut him off, and you won’t receive any money from us.”

  “We know.”

  “We?”

  “Chester and I plan to be married. We will be happy together, raise a family, and we will do it all without you in our lives.”

  Lady Kirkland sucked in a breath. Bernie panicked, thinking she might scream, so she spoke quickly.

  “As the woman who loves him I cannot stand by and say nothing while you hurt him. I will protect him from you any way I can. And the children I bear will never know you. Is that what you want? To lose your only child and grandchildren? What kind of mother would do that? I’m a mother of sorts. I’ve helped raise all my sisters who were born after me, and the only thing I want for them is happiness. I would never step in the way of their happiness. So I ask you, how could you do that to your son? What will you have to take his place?”

  Lady Kirkland pressed the handkerchief to her eyes.

  “If you don’t want a scandal, you will forget you saw me here this morning and any knowledge that I’ve been with your son for two nights now. But don’t forget my words. When I return to Selbourne, Chester and I will make our intentions clear and nothing will stand in the way of our happiness. You thought to scare me with fear, to guilt me with a threat to my sisters’ futures. We won’t let you. Our love is stronger than your threats and whatever you choose to do it will change nothing. I love him. I will never stop loving him. I don’t care if he’s a pauper. We will still be happy and in love and that is greater than any title or wealth. I will have everything and you will have lost everything.”

  She whimpered.

  “Good day, Lady Kirkland. I hope your heart can change. Chester and I want you to be part of our future, but we are willing to accept it if you cannot.”

  Bernie turned away, lightheaded, a little nauseous but feeling victorious. She’d said her piece and now it was up to Lady Kirkland to choose her son over her deeply ingrained ignorance. If she chose the former, Bernie would forgive the woman her past insults as long as Chester was happy.

  She left through a back door with Jensen’s enlisted help to keep watch. Bernie set out across the garden, to the gate that separated the formal gardens of Kirkland Hall to the open fields beyond. She wasn’t worried about being seen at this hour, and with her hood up, no one would recognize her. Her boots sunk into the soft soil, the sucking of the mud slowing her and threatening to turn her ankle. It must have rained sometime during the night. Every blade of grass sparkled with drops like diamonds, and in the early morning light, it was quite a beautiful sight. But she didn’t have time to linger. Not if she was to warn her sisters about her impending plan and the potential risks to them. She was certain of their support, no matter how the Kirklands chose to respond. And with Anne’s marriage to Roderick and hers to Chester, even without the Kirkland fortune, their family would survive the worst of outcomes. Perhaps they’d turn to Scotland for husbandly prospects next, but it was really up to her sisters what they would want to do.

  Bernie turned toward the road for an easier trek, though her distance to the castle would be longer on the winding road.

  She kept her head down, arms folded tightly to ward off the cold trying to creep into her cloak, when the crunch of wheels alerted her to an oncoming carriage. She moved to the side of the road and peeked at the traveler before turning her face away. A hired carriage with no coat of arms came from the direction of the village. Bernie continued on, keeping her face averted as it passed her, but then it stopped and a man shouted at her.

  She kept walking, ignoring the summons.

  But then the door clattered as it was shoved open and a disheveled gentleman stumbled out. Bernie froze and faced the miscreant, not wanting to be caught off guard.

  “I’m late for my duties at Selbourne Castle, sir.”

  “You’ve a smart tongue, wench. I don’t recall asking where you were going.”

  Bernie bit her tongue as she recognized the slovenly bounder.

  His uncombed hair fell into his face, and he hadn’t a coat on as he ambled toward her, his lip bloody.

  She pulled her hood tighter around her face and bent her knees to shorten her stature.

  “Get in the carriage and I’ll compensate you for your time.”

  She backed up a step. “No, thank you. I must be going.”

  “Get in the bloody carriage.” He staggered after her.

  “No.” Bernie glanced toward the driver but he studiously ignored her.

  “Please, sir. I want no trouble. The duchess is expecting me.”

  “You—wait, I know your voice.”

  “My voice is very common.”

  He lunged toward her, snatching her hood and some of her hair.

  “Ow!” Bernie cried. She slapped him across the face and he stumbled back, holding his cheek.

  “Miss Bernadette Marsden.”

  Bernie huffed. “Mr. Rupert.”

  “Fortune favors me.”

  Bernie glared at the coachman. “Are you going to do nothing?”

  “I’m paid to drive, miss, not intervene in a lover’s quarrel.”

  “We are not—” From the corner of her eye she saw Rupert lunge for her again. His arms wrapped around her in surprising strength, and he yanked her toward the carriage.

  Bernie screamed, a blood-curdling scream to her own ears that ought to have reached London. Her feet slipped on the wet sandy road, finding no purchase to provide the leverage she needed to fight him.

  They wrestled, Rupert having the upper hand until he fell with her onto the floor of the coach. “No!” Bernie screamed, kicking, but her skirts crippled her range of motion and power.

  “You’re a madman,” she cried.

  “I’m desperate, Miss Bernadette, and Lord Kirkland promised me a hefty sum if I married you.”

  “That was before. And he certainly didn’t intend you to kidnap me!”

  “I need that money. I’ve lost everything at the tables.”

  “Not. My. Concern!”

  He held both her arms now. “
You’re my solution. That money will pay off most of my debts.”

  “You cannot force me to marry you. There is no way you can willingly get me to an altar.”

  “If I impregnate you, you will. No woman wants a bastard.”

  Bernie clenched her teeth. “I can promise hell will be more enjoyable that one day spent married to me. I will make you suffer in ungodly ways.”

  “I don’t intend to stay with you. All I need is a marriage license and consummation and Kirkland will pay me.”

  “Not if I kill you first.”

  He switched her hands to one of his and Bernie struggled again, but somehow, despite his slight frame, he was still stronger than her. She rained curses down on him until he tried to shove a handkerchief in her mouth. She bit him. He yelped and pulled away, affording her the space to arch forcefully up against him and throw him off balance. He fell out of the coach and Bernie wasted no time heaving herself out. But as she stood, his fist clipped her on the chin and all went dark.

  Chapter 22

  Chester watched Bernie disappear on foot around the curve in the road. She would come in sight again as she neared the castle, but every second he couldn’t see her made him anxious. He shifted, leaning against the window then cursing and throwing it open. He should have followed her, or taken a horse and watched from the oak where he could see her the whole way. He shook his head, cursing himself for not insisting.

  Crisp air filtered through his anger, calming him, but he kept his gaze glued to where she would soon appear.

  The seconds dragged by.

  He glared at the road leading directly to Selbourne, willing her to appear. If she’d kept to the field, she would have stayed in his line of sight. Why had she turned toward the road?

  He slammed his fist against the window frame and paced before the window, keeping watch on the road.

  A sound reached him, sending ice through his veins. He lurched toward the window leaning out, listening, but all was quiet, nothing looked out of place. He couldn’t hear anything more than the usual morning sounds of the world waking. But he’d heard something and… Was it a scream? A woman’s scream or a bird? Foxes made strange sounds. Any number of things could have made that sound. His heart pounded and his palms grew sweaty.