Claimed By Chaos

by Abigail Graves

  “Hold the little hun for me.” Alastair said as he reached for a handkerchief and wiped off his face. He ran his hands through his hair and then reclined as he watched Giselle cope with the bundle in her hands. She looked down cautiously and stared at Ethan. Everything within her felt pulled toward him.

  I would set the whole world on fire to protect you. She thought as she pulled him closer. He blinked at her and she was certain he was the most intoxicating thing she had ever seen. Giselle inhaled and she felt her insides quake. If I had one like you… A desperate need clawed at her and she looked up at Alastair. She knew he saw it in her eyes and she was helpless to hide it from him. His eyes became darker as they poured into hers. He raised his hand to reach for her face but he dropped it when he remembered they weren't alone.

  “I will give you everything you want.” His words echoed between them. Giselle breathed deeply and tried to force her heart to find a normal rhythm.

  She looked up when she heard Elise enter and made her features appear calm. Elise’s head tilted as she paused in the doorway. A moment later, she smiled and floated in Giselle’s direction. Her fingers snapped quickly as she drew close and carefully sat on the sofa next to Giselle.

  “He’s not giving you any trouble is he?” Elise asked softly. Giselle gasped as she shook her head.

  “As if he could. He’s an angel!” She insisted. “Here, I’m sure you miss him terribly.” Giselle said as she started to raise Ethan. Elise touched her arm.

  “You can hold him a little longer. I always miss him but I feel like you need more time.” Elise’s lips curved gently as she stood and moved toward Gilles. He reached for her and brought her hands to his lips.

  “You look lovely.” He murmured as he ignored everyone and lowered his lips to Elise’s. Giselle looked back at Alastair and found him watching her intently. His eyes flicked to the door as Maman swept in. Her eyes settled on the sofa and brightened as she crossed the room. Maman settled next to her and started cooing to Ethan. Giselle took advantage of her attention.

  “Here! It wouldn’t do for me to keep him from his grand-mère!” She said brightly as she passed him to Maman, she smiled in delight as she took Ethan and started singing to him softly.

  Giselle avoided Alastair’s eyes through dinner. Somehow, he guessed that she was too fragile to discuss what passed between them and left it alone as he escorted her to the Danbridge ball. Giselle felt taut the entire evening and it followed her when she was finally alone in her room. Despite her inner turmoil, she was able to force herself to sleep. She dreamt of Alastair. In her dream he was on the floor, wrestling with a laughing infant. The infant in her vision had inky black hair and silver eyes. When she woke, her hands were pressed to her stomach.

  Chapter 48

  Alastair stretched his neck and groaned as he poured himself another brandy. His body felt like a solid knot of tension. After three weeks of escorting Giselle around London and attending ton events, the entire bottle was looking like a good idea. His only consolation was that he seemed to be coping better than Giselle.

  Wherever they went, they could barely move. Every time they went to the park or tried to drive down Rotten Row they created a traffic nightmare. They only attempted Bond Street once and he had a moment of panic in Hatchards when it appeared they were trapped and were at risk of being crushed. By the time they returned to Spencer Place after their outings, Giselle would be seething and would spend the first half hour or so pacing and cursing. Usually in French, which he loved.

  He wished he had the sort of mind that could lose track of the number of balls they had attended. Eighteen. They also attended three operas and six musicales. It had been a baptism by fire for Alastair. By the time he returned to Burton Street his body throbbed and his brain felt as if it was being crushed within his skull. Not that he was complaining, he had expected it to be more painful. Once he’d had a drink or two in the silence of his library, his body recovered from the effects of a few hundred bodies pressed against his and he was able to relax before he faced the new day.

  His only real complaint was that by the time he parted from Giselle at Spencer Place, it was too close to dawn for her to sneak into Burton Place. Alastair was starting to worry about his sanity. When he was around Giselle he felt almost hysterical, the need to touch her with his hands and mouth was so severe he wanted to scream. Every time they touched, even if it was just their hands, he had to fight the urge to pull her against him. When they were apart he ached to see and smell her. He saw her body every time he shut his eyes.

  Alastair turned and was sure his brain had finally broken. He squeezed his eyes shut and was surprised to see that Giselle was still standing in front of him when he opened them.

  “You shouldn’t be here. There isn’t enough time.” Alastair’s voice broke as need exploded within him, his body tightened and his cock throbbed painfully. She kept her eyes on his as she flicked the buttons of her breeches free and then reached for the buttons of her blouse.

  “I need you.” Giselle whispered and pulled her blouse and chemise over her head.

  For a moment, Alastair was frozen as his eyes swept over her body. Her hair was loose and flowed around her shoulders and curled around her breasts. She was naked from the waist up and her breeches gaped and he could see a hint of dark curls.

  The snifter slipped from his hands and he didn't hear it shatter as he closed the distance between them and attacked her. His hands pulled at her skin as he backed her against the bookshelf. Giselle fisted her hands in his hair as their mouths collided. Alastair groaned as his tongue tangled with hers. He pushed her breeches down and his hands wrapped around her bottom and he squeezed as he ground against her. She moaned and bucked against him.

  He pulled away from her lips and dove for her breasts. His teeth grazed the lush swells and his tongue lapped at her. Giselle gasped as her hands clutched his head to her. She cried his name when his lips closed around her nipple and she sobbed when he started to suck hungrily. Alastair feasted on her breasts until he felt the front of his trousers become warm and wet with her juices. He dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth into the hollow between her thighs. His tongue sought the core of her womanhood but he couldn’t get close enough. He cursed as he tugged her trousers lower but her boots wouldn’t let them down far enough.

  “Please, I need you inside of me, now!” Giselle whimpered. Alastair shook his head as he jumped to his feet.

  “I have to have you with my mouth first.” He lifted her and strode across the room to his desk. He set her upon it and then grabbed her boots and swung them into the air, tipping Giselle onto her back. She shrieked and he stood back. With her boots in the air, the view of her bottom and glistening womanhood was painfully arousing. He hissed as he set his fingers to her entrance and her silken heat scalded him. Alastair dropped to his knees and pulled her legs around his neck. Because of her trousers and boots, it was snug but he could run his tongue up the length of her folds and into her molten core. He lost touch with the world as he devoured her. He was mindless as he greedily searched for every trace of her essence with his tongue, lapping and probing as she thrashed and begged. It wasn’t until a rush of nectar bathed his tongue and chin that he realized she had come, he’d been so oblivious to the rest of her body and her cries.

  His entire body throbbed with lust as he rose to his feet. Giselle was delirious, undulating and arching on top of the desk. The sight of her panting as her hands clawed at her breasts cindered his control. Alastair tore at the falls of his trousers ripping fabric and pulling buttons loose in his desperation to free his raging erection. As soon as it was free, he grabbed her ankles as he thrust into her. He drove in until he was fully seated and Giselle moaned in ecstasy.

  “Touch your nipples.” Alastair growled as he withdrew and then slammed forward. She licked her lips as her hands closed around her breasts and then slid until her fingertips brushed over the pebbled tips. She gasped and he felt her muscles tighten arou
nd him as she became wetter. “God! More!” Alastair’s voice was hoarse and strained as his thrusts became harder and more urgent. Giselle’s fingers closed around the peaks and she rolled them. She threw her head back and screamed.

  Alastair shut his eyes as his ears rang but his hips kept moving, rocking and grinding against her. He rested her ankles against his shoulder and grabbed her waist so he could drive deeper into her. He was mesmerized as she slid back and forth on the desk and her breasts bounced until he felt his balls tighten.

  “You have to come for me, darling. Now.” He ordered as he pounded into her relentlessly. Giselle sobbed his name and her shoulders came off the desk. She froze and he felt her grip him tight and his cock pulsed as she started to convulse. He felt heat rush through him and explode deep within her. He slammed forward a few more times as he felt what had to be the entire contents of his soul pouring from him. He became lightheaded as he shuddered. Alastair held onto the edge of the desk until the last of the tremors rolled though him and his breathing slowed.

  When he finally stepped back, Giselle sat up and stared at him in disbelief. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her. Her hair was wild, it looked as if it had been caught in a cart’s wheel. Her eyes were dazed and her lips were swollen and she was still panting. She was naked from the knees up and her breeches were bunched around her boots.

  “I should probably go…” Giselle’s speech was slurred as her eyes drunkenly rolled around the room looking for the rest of her clothes.

  Reality crashed into Alastair and he remembered that it was close to dawn. He looked around the room and cursed. He saw the broken snifter, books that had been knocked over and fallen to the floor at the bookshelf, an overturned rug and then the catastrophe that was his desk. Papers were scattered on the desk top and littered the floor around his feet. Alastair realized that none of the destruction in the library mattered. The door was wide open.

  “Jesus. And we were loud.” He whispered. Yes. Be quiet now, dunderhead. He scolded himself as he looked at Giselle. She nodded jerkily.

  “We were really, really loud.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at the door.

  “There’s nothing we can do about it now.” Alastair decided as he stuffed himself back into his trousers and closed them as well as he could. He lifted Giselle and set her on her feet before he tugged her breeches back up. He crossed the room and snatched up her shirt and chemise and turned back to her. Her eyes swam and she frowned.

  “Are you mad at me?” Giselle whispered as she raised her arms so he could pull her chemise over her. Alastair shook his head softly as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers briefly.

  “Of course not. I’m just frustrated with myself for not being more careful.” He assured her as he pulled her shirt down. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her gently. “I was on the verge of breaking into Spencer Place, I was nearly out of my mind, I needed you so badly.” He stepped back and fixed the buttons on her shirt and Giselle smiled.

  “Nearly?” She said softly. Alastair felt his lips curve as he looked around the room again. He spotted her greatcoat on the back of a chair and he crossed the room.

  “Right… Things did escalate.” He mused as he returned to Giselle and swung the coat over her shoulders. He looked at her hair and grimaced. There wasn't a lot her could do about that. “Will you be able to get back without being seen?” He asked. She nodded and sighed.

  “I miss the way it was at Winthorpe.” Giselle pouted. “I miss having you so close and sleeping with you every night.” She rose on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Alastair pulled her against him.

  “There’s a very simple remedy, my love. If we were married, we could stay in bed for days and no one would complain. In fact, it would be expected.” His tongue attempted to slide into her mouth but she tensed and pulled away.

  “I need to go.” Giselle’s voice was unsteady as she turned. Alastair hung on to her arm.

  “Wait.” He begged. She looked up at him and shook her head.

  “I have just enough time as it is. You have to let me go.” She tugged and he let go. Alastair frowned as he watched her slip silently through the door.

  He cursed as he turned and swept from the room. The now too familiar surge of fear and frustration filled him as he climbed the stairs. Whenever he thought he was making progress, Giselle would resist and push him away. One moment, he was blissfully content and the next, he was panicked and felt like he was suffocating from the emotions that overwhelmed him.

  Alastair reminded himself that he’d expected Giselle to turn his life inside out and put him through hell. He told himself he had to be patient and that he would prevail in the end. He had to. The fact that she had slipped away from Spencer Place so close to dawn was a reassuring sign. If her need for him was that strong, she wouldn’t be able to turn away once they had dealt with Weering.

  Chapter 49

  “I’ve spotted Weering, he’s in the card room.” Lucien said under his breath as he bowed his head to their host. Alastair nodded as he watched Giselle and Mirabelle make their way through the ballroom. They would become swallowed by the sea of bodies and he would hold his breath until they emerged. He didn’t want to leave the room but he wanted to observe Weering.

  “Let’s go.” Alastair said as he turned. Lucien’s eyes rested on Mirabelle for a moment before he led the way.

  Alastair followed Lucien as he made his way around the card room, talking to acquaintances and peers. Neither looked at Weering but they tracked his movements as he chatted with various gentlemen. Lucien’s eyes flicked to Alastair’s when Weering crossed the room in their direction. Alastair remained aloof as Weering drew close. He bowed to Lucien and looked expectantly at Alastair. Alastair waited until Weering accepted that he wasn’t going to bow. He inclined his head and Alastair returned the gesture.

  “It’s said that there is an understanding between you and Lady St. Claire, Spencer.” Weering said as he signaled a footman for another drink. Alastair kept his expression blank as he looked at Weering.

  “I can’t imagine why that would be any concern of yours.” His voice was flat. Weering smiled as he raised his glass.

  “I’m in the market for a wife and Lady St. Claire would be the obvious candidate, would she not?” He chuckled as he drank. Lucien’s eyes flashed with rage.

  “How did your second wife die?” He asked as his eyes swept Weering. He should have been in mourning but he wore a bottle green coat and no armband. Weering shrugged.

  “A terrible fall. It was a tragedy.” He looked bored as his eyes traveled around the room. He returned to Alastair. “Life goes on. If the rumors aren’t true and lady St. Claire is not engaged…” He raised his brow as he waited for Alastair to respond. Alastair stepped closer. His shoulder almost touched Weering’s.

  “Lady St.Claire is none of your business.” He stared into Weering’s eyes, all the fury and hatred he felt poured from his and Weering flinched. He coughed and raised his glass and drained it. Alastair stepped back and nodded to Lucien before he turned to leave the card room. Lucien moved at his side. Neither looked around as they left. They paused when they stepped into the ballroom. Lucien leaned close as he scanned the crowd.

  “You realize you’ve all but challenged Weering, don’t you?” Lucien’s voice was low. Alastair felt the muscles in his jaw twitch and realized he was grinding his teeth.

  “Yes.” Alastair nodded to Lucien as he stepped into the current of bodies to find Giselle.

  It was a miserable crush. Mirabelle cursed silently as she eyed the group around them. Giselle had become the center of the madness. Where the hell is Alastair? She wondered as she looked around. If he was hiding someplace quiet, she would skin him. They were surrounded by the most irritating women in the ton. Mirabelle shut her eyes and sighed when she spotted Lady Wembley pushing through the crowd. How could she have forgotten? The collection wouldn’t be complete without her. She thought ruefully.
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br />   “I heard there’s an understanding between you and Sir Alastair Spencer.” Miss Brightly said a bit too caustically for Mirabelle’s liking and she narrowed her eyes. Lady Wembley laughed. The other women around them became very interested. “It is a surprising choice.” Lady Brightly murmured. Mirabelle was about to level the woman when Giselle’s eyes pinned her.

  “Why is it surprising?” She sounded lethal as she advanced. Miss Brightly swallowed nervously as she looked around for support. The other women became absorbed in their fans and drinks.

  “Well… He’s just so…” Miss Brightly gestured nervously and Giselle raised an eyebrow, daring her. Miss Brightly looked terrified. “He’s rarely about and… somewhat aloof.” She added cautiously. Giselle’s stare became icy.

  “Perhaps he finds little to interest him here.” She said as her eyes swept the women around her. “I’ve never known him to be aloof.” Eyes became wide at her implication. Then, they all focused above Giselle’s head and Mirabelle turned around.

  Alastair materialized behind Giselle. His hand closed around her waist as he raised her hand to his lips. She looked up, over her shoulder and her eyes became dazed. Mirabelle swallowed a gasp. He was standing too close and they appeared far too familiar. She looked around and the women were mesmerized as he turned her hand and pressed his lips to her wrist. They all swayed closer.

  “Dance with me, Lady St. Claire.” His voice was low and warm, his tone implied something very different. Giselle nodded, in a trance as he turned her toward the dance floor.

  Mirabelle blinked in shock. When she looked around the group, chests rose and fell rapidly, hands toyed with bodice trims and fans fluttered. Dear lord, her brother had just seduced a dozen women without noticing them. All eyes followed him as he led Giselle to the floor and bowed. He pulled her close and swung her into a waltz.