Pride Of Honor: Men of the Squadron Series, Book 1

by Stein, Andrea K.

  He closed his mouth over hers again and they kissed deeply, clinging to each other. Sophie explored his mouth with her tongue, and suckled his lower lip, acting much braver than she felt. She’d truly become a wanton.

  He explored her wetness with one tentative finger at her entrance, and then two, probing deeper. He suddenly set her away from him, and his eyes sparked like deep indigo pools of desire in the candlelight. She nearly cried out at the cool air on her skin with his body rolled away from hers.

  “Sophie, listen to me. You have to decide. If we take what we want this night, there is no turning back. You will have to accept me as your husband. If you want to remain alone and navigate your own destiny, then I will leave now. There is nothing that would pain me more, but I would do this for you.”

  “But, if you leave now, everyone will assume we’ve, we’ve, you know—”

  “If you decide you do not want a life with me, I promise no one will speak of this night. I will return to a guard position with my men and no one will ever know what has passed here. They will accept what I tell them.”

  “What will you tell them?”

  “That I have delivered your naughty little dog and made sure you are well before re-joining them.”

  “And they will accept your word, just like that?” Sophie gave an impatient brush to the tears pooling in her eyes.

  “Howick’s guards are discreet to a man. My men would die before spreading tales, but there would be a price.”

  “What price?”

  “They would beat me senseless for not making you my wife.”

  “Then it is settled.” Sophie took his mouth again in a long kiss and wrapped one long, delicious leg across his hip.

  Arnaud satisfied himself that her legs were indeed delicious in a few minutes when he crawled beneath the quilt and kissed his way along both insides of her tender thighs. He ignored her frantic squirms and the fluttering of her hands trying to raise his head to the level of her own lips. He took his time and stole one last kiss at the warm melting wetness at the apex of those thighs before joining her again above the quilt.

  He rolled Sophie close and positioned her just where he wanted her at his cock. “If you are determined to be Mrs. Bellingham before tomorrow ends, then you will join me here.” In one swift move he rolled himself onto his back, placed her above him, and carefully positioned the tip of his cock at her heated entrance with her legs to either side of his hips.

  Her startled eyes stared a question. “Since it appears you’ve never entertained an eager fellow like him, you are now his master, milady.” He eased her forward a bit so that she could slide against him.

  Sophie was terrified to make any move at all, but a tentative rock against the head of his member caused him to slide into her wetness. She tried another, deeper slide, but met with resistance and a little pain. What she wanted, and had no idea how to sate, appeared just out of her grasp.

  Arnaud gritted his teeth and clenched his hands at his sides. He’d wanted Sophie for so long while denying any claim on her happiness. He would, by damn, wait until she found her release.

  She leaned down to Arnaud’s lips and whispered into his mouth, “Please, help me. I don’t know…”

  He wrapped his arms around her then and pulled her to him while thrusting upward. He stopped suddenly at a little squeak from her, and then thrust again. She rocked against him and let a little whimper escape. She was his.

  Now she raised up onto her knees, let her head fall back and rocked in unison with him. A few minutes later at her moan of release, he tried to temper his own wave of pent-up need but instead thrust hard several times and filled her with his seed.

  Arnaud regretted losing control and possibly leaving her alone with a child when he returned to sea, but he imagined he could hear his grandfather, the pirate, utter a single word. “Yes.”

  Morning light billowed through the lace curtains covering the full window in Sophie’s bedroom. Shadow and sun crashed through the lace, painting the quilt covering Arnaud and Sophie with wildly distorted patterns.

  A short thought hovering at the back of Arnaud’s mind circled around and slapped him hard. He could not dally with this woman. He had to make Sophie his wife, and he had to do this right before he lost control.

  He rolled out of her narrow bed and yanked on the pieces of his uniform, now discarded in heaps across her chamber.

  Sophie raised off the bed at the noise he made and a tiny frown formed on her beautiful face framed by disheveled long dark curls.

  “Don’t. Where are you going?” She leaned out of bed and reached for him.

  “No. This has to be done, and properly, otherwise, I’ll never hear the last of it.”

  “No matter what you said last night, this is just between the two of us. It is not the affair of anyone else.”

  “Miss Sophie, I beg to differ.”

  “Who then?”

  Arnaud sank to one knee on the hard wood floor next to her bed and held up the fingers of one hand. “Let’s see. There are the Howicks. He could have me banished to a hulk prison. And then, Sir Thomas. Don’t forget, he is a very powerful barrister. He would never forgive me for ruining you. He could have me thrown in Old Bailey. And then there are my men. I’m fairly certain they would take me out and beat me to death if I walked away from you now. And the most dangerous to my own person? My mother. You do not want to find yourself in her ill regard.”

  “Yes, but all of those people do not signify. All that matters is what we are to each other.”

  “Ah, yes, but I’ve forgotten the most important people we cannot let down.”

  “Who would that be?” She stuck out her lower lip, defiance in every line of her face.

  “Our children.”

  Sophie remained silent for a long few minutes before responding. “If you insist on marriage, will I be full and truly your wife? Not in name only?”

  “Well and truly, as soon as I can get a special license today.”

  “And you promise you’ll never leave me for good? You’ll always come back?”

  “God’s toe, woman! My knee aches from awaiting your demands. Is that all?”

  “No, Arnaud, it’s not. I want everything. I want all of you.”

  He stood and swept her close, covering her mouth with his. When he’d finished, she smiled like a satisfied cat, lapping her morning cream. He kissed her again.

  “You already have all of me. You’ve had me since that morning outside the milliner’s shop. For the love of all that’s holy, will you have me for your husband?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, Captain Bellingham, I will be your wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Wild pounding at her front door made Sophie think both sides of her heart were going to cease beating and expire. Then her cheeks burned.

  She pushed at the mass of warm man blocking her view of the bedroom window. “Quickly—out into the back garden.”

  He turned and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Before the sun sets on this day, you, Sophia Brancelli, will be Mrs. Arnaud Bellingham. There’s nothing left to fear. Let’s go down and greet our guests.

  Within minutes, a great crowd filled the first floor of Sophie’s townhouse. Arnaud’s mother, her coachman, and one of her footmen waited outside with her cavernous, ostentatious carriage. All his men, except for Captain Neville, flooded in around him and half-carried him out to the conveyance.

  “Where are they taking him?” Sophie picked her way through her friends and anxiously peered out the front parlor window.

  “They’re taking him back to Albany to change into his dress uniform and then to Lambeth Palace to get a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury,” Sir Thomas said, his tone brooking no disagreement. He clapped Viscount Rumsford on the back and they both drank a toast from glasses filled from one of the champagne bottles in the cases he’d had footmen deliver to the lower level kitchen. A bevy of servants had flowed past Sophie down the stairs with en
dless trays and boxes full of provisions.

  “What are they doing?” Sophie whispered to Sir Thomas.

  “They’re preparing a wedding breakfast, my girl.” Sir Thomas’s mother, Lady Fitzroy, moved next to her and took a filled glass from a tray being passed by one of Sir Howick’s footmen.

  “Must you always listen to my conversations?” Sir Thomas made a tsking noise at his mother but smiled fondly.

  Lydia paused in commanding an army of servants arranging the blooms from her gardens: Sky blue cornflowers; stocks in all shades from red to pink to cream; another bright explosion of intensely red dahlias; and lavender wisteria blooms overflowing from huge glass bowls on every free surface as well as in pots on the floor banked against the corners of all the rooms. The riot of scents was like a walk along a country path in spring.

  Lydia raced to the front hallway entrance just as Captain Neville’s broad shoulders filled the front hallway entrance. He leaned his blonde head close to Lydia’s, after which she joined Sophie and lifted her hand. “Come with me. I have something to show you.” She turned and dragged her friend up the stairs behind her. Ladies Howick, Fitzroy, and Rumsford followed.

  Sophie inhaled sharply. Hanging from a peg on her chamber wall was a lavender-sprigged silk gown with gold threads embroidered into the banded pattern along the hem. Sheer sleeves of gold-tinged silk fell to the side of the low bodice. “Where did this come from?”

  “Mrs. Withers,” Lydia said. “She had Madame Bonheur make it especially for your wedding.”

  “Wait a minute.” Sophie put her hands on her hips. “How was everyone so sure there would be a wedding?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. All the other women smiled as if they shared a great secret. “You were the only one who wasn’t sure. You’re expected as soon as possible at the chapel at Lambeth Palace. Papa met Arnaud there to make sure there’s no problem with the license. Now it’s your turn to do your part. Turn around so we can get you out of this old dress and into that tub of hot, steaming water behind the screen. Jane is itching to do your hair.” Lydia pointed to the corner where her lady’s maid stood. “And then I can’t wait to see you in your wedding dress.”

  Less than an hour later, accompanied by Captain Neville, Lydia, Arnaud’s mother, Honore, Lady Howick, and Mrs. Withers, she climbed up into the Howick family carriage. Staring down at her gold silk slippers, she felt like a character out of a fairytale. The coachmen flicked his whip, and they were off to Lambeth Palace across the river

  Lydia and Captain Neville stood behind Sophie and Arnaud in the bone-chilling cold of the stone chapel. The rare London sun shone bright outside Lambeth Palace, but inside it was as if the old bones of the building refused to give up the biting cold of centuries.

  Sophie trembled inside her silk confection of a dress and hoped no one else noticed. Arnaud must have known, because he moved closer and lent his body warmth.

  They were a small party within the chapel listening to the cautionary words of the vicar while he intoned the stern Anglican marriage service. A sudden footfall and odd sound behind them had everyone rustling. The members of their small wedding party turned in their seats.

  A loud voice rolled from the rear of the chapel. “I order you to stop this wedding.” Her uncle, Wolford. Sophie could not believe his audacity. She jerked as if to turn and confront him, but Arnaud gripped her arm, forcing her to face forward.

  Howick motioned to the vicar to continue and rose from his seat in the front pew next to Mrs. Withers. He strode back to the cause of the commotion, there was a shout, a shuffling of feet, and then a door slammed.

  Arnaud smiled next to her, gripped her arm more tightly, and, miraculously, it was time for their last “I will’s” before escaping back outside into the warmth of the sun.

  Lady Howick and Mrs. Withers dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs while Lydia could not seem to rip her regard away from Captain Neville.

  Sophie’s happiness darkened for a moment. She feared her friend Lydia was in love with a man she could never have. Sophie had been in that state of heart and knew it to be a grim, hopeless place. Beside her, her new husband leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Do not worry about Lydia and Neville. Things will work out.”

  They all climbed back into the Howick carriage and returned to Edwardes Square in Kensington.

  Sophie tried to blot the memory of her uncle’s last attempt to interfere with her wedding, but couldn’t. She leaned forward finally toward Lord Howick and gave him a questioning look.

  “What did Wolford want?”

  “He wanted to make sure you never fulfilled the requirements of your grandmother’s will.”

  “Why did he think he would succeed? And in Jupiter’s name, why does he need my paltry inheritance?”

  Arnaud absently patted her knee and gazed out the carriage window as if lost in thought. The business with her uncle was hers alone. As long as she was safe, she knew Arnaud would not interfere. He would let her take care of her own affairs. Her husband trusted her to make the right decisions. She squeezed his arm through his stiff uniform sleeve. He smiled. He understood. Words were not necessary.

  Howick cleared his throat. “I told Wolford I know why he needs your inheritance, and that I would tell everyone of consequence in London if he does not leave the two of you in peace.”

  “I even sent him word that I didn’t need Grandmama’s money. He could have everything, and good riddance.” She thought for a long moment, and what Howick had said earlier finally registered in her mind. “You know why? How long have you known?” Arnaud leaned forward, the expression on his face intent.

  “Sergeant Randall’s spies discovered he is deeply in debt everywhere.”

  Sophie’s mouth flew open. “How can that be?”

  “Apparently, he sank all of his money into the Poysia scam that Scotsman pulled off. There were supposed to be thousands of acres of land in South America with hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of resources. When the miners and settlers Wolford backed arrived with equipment and supplies, there was no land, nothing but impenetrable jungle.”

  Arnaud whistled. “Wolford was taken in by a lack-wit scheme like that?”

  “Yes. He went all in and lost everything. He was desperate for his mother’s funds she’d set aside for Sophie.”

  “But Grandmama couldn’t have left me that much.” Sophie looked from Lord Howick to his mother.

  Lady Howick spoke first. “Your grandmother wrote many novels under an assumed name that sold very well, both here and on the continent in translations. She left you a considerable fortune.”

  Lord Howick shook his head, disgust on his face. “Even if Wolford sent you away, he still would not have been able to take the funds. Your grandmother and her solicitor made sure of that. He would have had to show proof of your natural death in order to collect the inheritance.”

  Sophie shuddered. Arnaud drew her close and squeezed her hand. She could still feel the warmth on her finger where during the service in the chapel he’d placed a gold band inset with rubies. The ring seemed very old, burnished with years of being well worn. He’d retrieved the simple band from a pocket in his uniform jacket during the brief ceremony at the chapel and placed it on her finger. She couldn’t help wondering about the identity of the woman who’d last worn the ancient band.

  Arnaud unlocked the gate to the park in the square facing Sophie’s townhouse and helped her through the narrow opening, holding up one side of her fragile silk dress.

  He glanced down and marveled that the buttons on his jacket hadn’t snapped off across his chest. What his heart was full of could barely be contained. There was so much he wanted to tell Sophie, but did not know where to begin. He guided her to a stone bench surrounded by greenery, took off his jacket and spread it on the seat.

  She sat carefully, gathering the precious hemmed fabric into her lap, away from the rough bench. Arnaud settled in next to her. After a few moments of silence, he leaned in and kissed
the soft skin beneath Sophie’s ear. When she turned to claim his mouth in a deep kiss, the gold-embroidered fabric fell in whispers to the ground.

  She giggled and gave him a half-hearted slap on the fingers. “We are going to be in so much trouble when Mrs. Withers sees what we’ve done to this dress.”

  “Which means I should get on with this speech so that we can return to the house and get you out of the dress.” He stood and bent down on one knee.

  Sophie giggled again. “If you keep getting down on your knees, it’s going to be really hard to conduct a marriage for all the years to come.”

  He leaned forward and put a finger to her lips. “We need to talk about what will happen when I go back to sea.”

  “No-.”

  He took off his gloves and rubbed away a tear sliding down her cheek.

  “As soon as my ship is provisioned with a full crew at the end of the month, we’ll return to our patrol off Africa. My solicitor has adjusted my will so that all of my estate will go to you if something happens to me.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you.” Sophie stood abruptly and held out her hand to him to stand with her. “I’m never going to let you go. You will always be here with me, no matter where you sail.” She pounded a fist against her chest. “And you’ll always come back to me.”

  Arnaud lost the facility of language, so he did what men of the sea have always done with the women they love. A long time later he asked, “Shouldn’t we return to our guests?”

  “Of course, but they’re all perfectly happy imbibing the contents of Sir Thomas’s wine cellar. I’m sure they won’t notice how long it takes us to get me out of this dress.” Sophie clasped his hand in hers and led him out of the park.

  Once they were back in her small chamber and he had peeled away the fragile dress, down to her chemise, silk stockings, and gold slippers, she backed away from his arms. Mischief sparked in her eyes, dark and full of promise in the shadows of dusk. “Before you kiss me witless again, I have one question.” She rubbed at the gold band on her finger and twisted the circle so that the rubies gleamed in the candlelight. “Where did you find this beautiful ring?”