The campfire crackled, reminding him they were out in the open and her men lay just a few yards away. His body would not relent. He released his hands from behind his head and rolled onto his side. Gently he repositioned Lucy so her back was to his chest, and he snaked an arm under her head and neck to provide a pillow. She sighed and snuggled into his embrace. Blake wrapped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer, bringing her bottom up snug against his groin.
Lucy stiffened. Was she shocked by his body’s response pressing into her? Praying she was awake, he expelled a sigh of relief as she wiggled farther back and languidly exhaled. The back of her thighs lined up with the front of his, and he whispered into her ear, “I want to touch you and feel your response to me. Would you like that?”
Without hesitation, she nodded her head ever so slightly. Ah, thank goodness the woman was awake. Clever girl. Was she conscious of the proximity of the other men? Did the thought of them being so close by send a thrill of excitement through her? She wiggled her bottom once more, and he had to swallow the groan he wanted to emit.
Every night he had spent apart from her he had thought of the evening they were alone in her room at Redburn house, and he ached to touch her intimately again. Even though they lay on the ground among the woods, to hold her again was like heaven.
Blake ran his tongue along her ear and whispered, “Evan is on watch and sound travels easily out in the open. If you need to, you can bite on my hand or arm. I won’t mind. Promise you will be quiet.”
As soon as Lucy nodded, Blake leaned back a little and unbuttoned her greatcoat. She slid her arms out, and he billowed it wide over the both of them, using it as a makeshift blanket, mostly covering her. Once he had the coat arranged to his liking, he pulled her lawn shirt up out of the band of her breeches and carefully placed his hand on her gently rounded stomach. Rubbing her cold skin, he tried to warm her with slow, lingering strokes from her navel up to just below her breasts. Her response was to stretch and align herself fully against his body.
Lucy begged in a whisper, “Blake, please!”
“You promised to be quiet,” Blake growled, and flicked her pebbled nipple.
Her whole body tensed, but as he began to caress her breasts, she softened against him. Careful not to touch her nipples, he ran his hand over her lush breasts in a circular fashion and then in a figure-eight pattern. Lucy began to wiggle against him, and he put his hand on her hip to hold her still. He had fantasized this moment every night. He wanted to take his time exploring her body, to learn every inch of her and to discover what excited her.
His hands remained unmoving until she took a deep breath through her nose and ceased shifting. As she released the breath, he began to caress the undersides of her breasts again, but her response was to press her bottom into him once more. Unexpectedly, he pinched her nipple, and she let out a squeak.
“Remain quiet. Next time I will stop entirely.” He wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry out the threat if she did make a sound, but when she meekly turned her face into his arm, blood pooled in his groin.
He continued to squeeze, rub, and pinch her breasts. When she began to move, he placed his wide hand in the middle of her chest. With his thumb, he rubbed one nipple, and he used his little finger to attend to the other. His other hand dug into her hip to prevent her movement against his hard member. She was his. He didn’t play a musical instrument, but her movements proved he knew explicitly what to do to produce a melody of sounds from her, all muffled by his arm.
She shifted, and he released his grip from her hips. Immediately she began to rock her bottom against him. She moved her head forward, and he started planting kisses down her neck and shoulders.
He was caught off guard when she grabbed his wrist and flattened his hand against her body. Placing hers on top of his, she guided their hands to her core. Blake was thrilled by her boldness and rewarded her by gently running a finger along her slit and then finding the sensitive bud that would drive her to the edge.
She was so wet, and the knowledge it was the result of his touch made his heart ache. A sudden feeling of possessiveness overcame him. He vowed no one other than him would ever have the pleasure of feeling her heat or have her this way. He would do anything for this woman in his arms, but first he needed to finish what he started and give her the most pleasure she had ever experienced.
Lucy woke to the sound of men laughing. From under the blanket, she peeked her head out just enough to see Blake talking with John, Evan, and Mr. Smyth. Blake gave the impression he was totally at ease. Was he regaling a tale about his adventures? The men appeared just as enthralled as Edward had been only a few weeks ago. She snuggled back into the blankets and feigned sleep as she listened to Blake’s tale.
“I had slipped onto a cart into Paris and was enjoying the juiciest of peaches.” Blake wiggled his brows at the same time, the men laughed. “No, seriously, they were the best peaches I’ve ever had. When we reached Les Halles, the farmer was not at all happy with me.”
Mr. Smyth chimed in, “I’ve always considered Paris to have the best variety of peaches.” He winked at Blake and then added, “It’s said that even the queen and the Russian tsars have traveled to Paris to partake in these wonderful peaches.”
Blake must have seen her move, for he began to stand. She shook her head at him. She didn’t want to disturb the camaraderie, and she needed to tend to some rather pressing personal needs. She rolled from the pallet and slipped into the woods.
She was just emerging from the woods as Blake approached her. A deep blush rose to her cheeks as she met his gaze. The man did not listen to direction very well. “Good morning, my sweet.”
“Do you recall the first time you referred to me as your sweet?”
“Yes, it was at the Duke of Fairmont’s ball. And in fact, I recall you not objecting to me calling you my sweet.”
“What? Of course I objected!”
“No, you only objected the third time I referred to you as my sweet. Do you have objections now?”
Lucy frowned inwardly. Surely she had objected the first time; she had just met him at the Duke of Fairmont’s ball. “No, I have no objections now. However, it would be best if you addressed me in such a manner only in private until we are wed.”
The wide grin Blake gave her told her how he honestly felt about their upcoming nuptials. He did not have the look of a man marrying her out of honor or duty. What they had shared last night under the stars had her eager to bed the man, wed or not. Playfully, she patted his chest right over his nipple and was pleasantly surprised as it budded just as hers had the night before.
“Be careful, my sweet. You wouldn’t want to start something in broad daylight.”
Feeling cheeky she asked, “Would you?”
Blake chuckled, and then he bent down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. There was still so much to learn about this enigmatic man who stood before her, but she would have a lifetime to do so. Right now, they needed to get back to England.
Lucy turned to find the men had already packed up and removed evidence of their campsite. Mounted, with their backs to Lucy and Blake, they waited patiently. “How long do you think they have been waiting?”
Blake lifted her by the waist and placed her on her mount. “Long enough.”
Throughout the day Lucy stole glances at Blake. At times she would close her eyes and recall how his hands had caressed her in the most intimate ways. If he were to remove his shirt, there would be evidence of her efforts to remain quiet on his arm. Blake caught her looking at him a few times, and every time he leaned in to give her a quick, chaste kiss.
After a long day of riding, she was tired and covered in dust. She ran a hand over her hair and felt bits of leaves and twigs poke her palm. What a disheveled mess she must look. But when she caught a glimpse of the devilish glitter in Blake’s eye, it made her feel wanted. Blake, however, did not have the appearance of having been on horseback for days, and while there was evide
nce of him running his hand through his hair, it just resulted in a rakish effect.
Having been caught staring once more, Lucy asked, “Will we reach port by nightfall?”
Would he answer or respond with a kiss? Blake leaned in closer, and when his lips were a mere inch away from hers, he replied, “Not much farther. Mayhap an hour, two at most.”
Releasing the breath she held, her gaze bore into his as he regained his seat. The man had the audacity to wink at her. Turning her nose in the air, she purposefully exposed the section of her neck that excited them both. At the flare of Blake’s nostrils and the glimmer of recognition in his eyes, Lucy gave him a devilish smile and urged her mount forward so her footmen once again flanked her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Entering Saint-Malo, every muscle in Blake’s body was tense and tingling. He glanced over at Mr. Smyth, whose eyes were a little too bright, as if sensing danger. If Matthew knew of his escape, then so must others.
Both men were vigilant as they maneuvered through the port. Lucy inquired if they could stop at an inn, take refreshments, and clean up, but Mr. Smyth was the first to object, and Blake just shook his head when she made the request. Despite her obvious desire to rest, she didn’t make mention of it again and never uttered a complaint at being denied.
As Blake dismounted, he asked, “What is the name of the ship we are to board?”
She answered, “Quarter Moon.”
Blake wrapped his hands about her waist and assisted her to the ground. “English then?”
As if she wasn’t standing on a foreign dock overcrowded with brawny sailors, Lucy raised her chin and said, “Why, of course.” Turning away from Blake, she addressed John, “Is he here?”
“Yes, my lady. I see him posted right where he said he would be.”
Blake followed her through the crowd. He admired the way she eased her way flanked by two footmen. They moved as one, and it was an impressive sight.
She walked across the gangway. “Captain Bane, let me introduce to you Blake Gower.”
“Word on both shores was you were missing.”
Blake raised one eyebrow and replied, “How interesting, Captain. How soon can we be off?”
Captain Bane’s gaze moved pointedly to Lucy. She gave an infinitesimal nod. “You are in luck. We will be able to set off with the tide this evening. If the winds prevail as I predict, we should be in Dover by early morning.”
Lucy beamed at the captain. “That is wonderful news. If your estimates are correct, which they normally are, we will be able to slip back into Town without notice.”
It was apparent the two had worked together previously, and the captain took direction from Lucy and Lucy alone. Pride filled Blake’s heart. It was a rare woman who could command such respect. He was looking forward to sharing a future with this complex and brave lady. Would she continue her association with the Home Office after they were wed? He could foresee times where their loyalties could be tested if he was to continue to work for the Foreign Office and she with the Home Office.
Fingering the parchment, Lucy sighed at the dirt under her fingernails. She was in desperate need of a bath.
“Why the deep sigh, my sweet?” Blake asked as he entered the captain’s quarters.
Seated upon the bed, Lucy straightened and gathered the missives she had been pouring over for the past hour. “Blake! What are you doing in here?”
“What have you in your hands, Lucy?”
“Correspondence.”
Blake’s features transformed from amicable to harsh as he barked, “From whom?”
“Various individuals.”
Lucy wasn’t accustomed to being questioned or sharing information. But if she was to marry this man, she should trust him. When she lifted her gaze, hard cold emerald eyes bore into her.
“I had Captain Bane reach out to some informants. There is a note here from a Miss Willow that is of interest.”
Eyes wide, Blake said, “The healer.”
“Yes, but I can’t quite understand her message. It’s in a dialect I’m unfamiliar with.”
With an outreached hand, Blake asked, “May I?”
Apart from Carrington, she had never had a partner to assist her before. The parchment shook as she held it out for Blake. Stepping closer, he wrapped his warm fingers around her wrist and with the other hand on her lower back pulled her to him.
“Lucy, I too am unfamiliar to working with another, but I promise to be your champion, to stand by you and protect you always.”
The sincerity in his eyes shone through, and she turned her wrist, placing the paper directly in his hand. He didn’t read the note immediately; instead, his gaze remained upon her. What was he waiting for? She wanted to share her fears and doubts. Would he allow her to continue to work for the Home Office? If he confirmed his association with the Foreign Office, what would it all mean?
But in truth, her thoughts were consumed by his lips, and she was desperate to have them upon her once more, and then they were. Blake was kissing her with an intensity that matched her desires. How had he read her thoughts? At that moment she didn’t care, sliding her tongue in his mouth and touching his. The sweet taste of port consumed her. Rising to her tiptoes, she deepened the kiss.
With a groan, Blake pulled back and said, “I want you. You are to be my wife. I trust you know your own mind, but…”
Like a lightning bolt, the word came to Lucy, “Maps! Miss Willow was describing the search for a map.” Blake released her, and she went to search for the travel sack she had left in Captain Bane’s possession.
Blake translated the note out loud. “Deep slumber master repeated search plan.”
“Le plan can be translated as scheme, plan, or map! I’m correct, am I not?” Lucy asked as she stood with another stack of missives. Shuffling them into order, she placed them across the bed. Together they read over each one.
Blake pointed to the page that Lucy had deciphered and labeled French missives, and announced, “These were not written by the French.”
Lucy questioned, “How can you be so certain?”
“It was written using English grammar.”
With her head tilted and brow creased, she scanned the letter once more. How had she not realized that before? Blake’s kidnappers were not French. Lucy asked, “If not the French, who? For what purpose? If they were still searching for a map, why kidnap you now?”
“I haven’t any idea, and those are all excellent questions that need to be puzzled out. Lucy, will you share with me all the missives and information you have received to date?”
With a smile, she nodded. Together they mulled over the stack of missives Lucy had in her possession. Rather than coming up with answers, more questions arose. She would have to seek out Archbroke upon their return with the hope that he would be able to piece it all together.
Chapter Thirty
Ensconced in a hired hack, Lucy snuggled next to Blake as the cool early morning air seeped through the cracks of the aging vehicle. Mr. Smyth and the footmen were mounted and followed close behind.
As they approached Harrington’s town house, Blake turned to Lucy. “My sweet, I have many errands to see to. I shall call on you soon.”
“I understand.” Lucy leaned in and pulled his head down so she could deliver a scorching kiss.
The hack came to an abrupt stop, forcing Blake to wrap his arms around Lucy to prevent them from falling. He murmured against her ear, “Lucy, you tempt me like no other.”
Lucy giggled as his beard tickled her skin. It was in this compromising position that Mr. Smyth found them in as the door swung open. Lucy righted herself and took his outstretched hand. Blake didn’t care to see Lucy’s hand upon another man.
“Lucy, I shall return as soon as I can.”
The smile he received from Lucy put his fears to rest. Eager to be done with his errands, he mentally prioritized what he needed to accomplish: a bath, provide his report to his superiors, and propose properly
to Lucy.
Refreshed, Blake entered Brooks’s and was immediately shown to one of the more private rooms in the back. Lord Hereford was standing by the fireplace. Blake and Hereford had on occasion worked assignments together on the Continent. Why was Hereford here and not his superior?
“Hereford, a pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise, Devonton. Glad to see you made it back to England. You were gone a day too long for the comfort of our superiors.” Hereford’s features hardened as he said, “I’ve been instructed to take your report.”
“Where is…”
Hereford cut him off. “Currently unavailable.”
Blake walked over to stand next to the window. Careful not to be in full sight, he peered out the window.
Hereford came to stand behind him. “Per our informants, you and Lady Lucy arrived aboard the Quarter Moon early this morn. Harrington is on the Continent, hunting Addington. You are to wed Lady Lucy. Do you have more to add?”
Hereford understood how unusual the situation was and provided Blake with the most convenient method of providing as little detail as possible. “No, I believe you have surmised all the pertinent points.”
Hereford placed a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “You are a lucky man. Lady Lucy is an exquisite woman. Congratulations.”
“My thanks. I’m off to make it official. Before I do, tell me this, Hereford. The three of us were recruited out of Oxford. You and I accepted, and I was under the belief Harrington had declined. How is it he is on the Continent hunting Addington and not you?”
Secrets of Lady Lucy Page 19