by Claudy Conn
She loved him beyond thought.
* * *
The earl stood a moment, suspended in time as he looked at her quietly seated by the fire. She was ravishing, with her golden curls cascading all around her perfectly shaped head.
He wanted her beyond understanding. He needed her more than he had ever needed anyone ever in his life. When he was not with her, all he could do was think about her, imagine her smile or a shared moment.
“Ah, my lord,” Kitty said as she got to her feet, moved to the grate, picked up a poker, and began sticking it in and about the fire.
“You will dirty your lovely gown,” he said softly, taking the poker away from her and setting it in its holder.
She smiled. “It is pretty, isn’t it? Simple, but quite—”
“Sometimes, simple is all you need.” His voice was husky and low. He was finding it hard to breathe. “Kitty … we need to talk.”
“Oh for goodness sake, what in blazes have I done now?”
“That, for instance, is not how a lady expresses herself. What in blazes … indeed.” He chuckled, stepped closer, and watched her finely winged brow rise.
“I thought you knew by now, my lord, I have no desire to be a lady,” Kitty threw back at him, her green eyes lit with flames.
He loved her beyond reason. Did she love him as well? She must, for he was sure he would end a broken man if she didn’t.
He took her into his embrace and murmured, “I believe you, and yet I mean to make you one all the same. Kitty, I want you to be my wife. I want you to be my one—my only, my Lady Halloway.” Thus declaring himself, he kissed her mouth and parted her lips for his tongue.
Her tongue tasted of sweet wine, and he drank deep. He pressed her into his body and backed her up against the wall. She was so pliable, so willing. She was going to be his bride. Suddenly his head exploded with passion and light, and all he wanted to do was start right that moment showing her how very much he loved her.
He got on his knees, took off his signet ring, and in a voice he did not recognize asked, “My own true love … will you be mine? Will you make my life complete and be my bride, forever, my bride?”
* * *
Was this a dream?
Was he here … saying words she had only hoped she might hear one day? His kiss took her away and into a world of starlight. Her body tingled with need. Her thighs clenched with desire. And then, before she knew what was happening, he was on one knee. This big, beautiful man, bowing to her, asking her to be his wife … and all at once she thought she might faint.
She nodded vigorously that, yes, she would be his bride, but she couldn’t speak. He slipped the ring on her finger, and the room actually tilted to one side before it started to spin right before her eyes.
Her knees crumbled, and she knew she was about to pass out.
He had her in his embrace. He shifted her, lifted her cradle-like into his arms, and hurried out of the library. She was vaguely aware and tried to tell him she was fine, but the words wouldn’t leave her throat. She rested her head against his chest, and he murmured words of love,
“My sweet girl … has it all been too much … do you not wish to marry me? You can say no, of course you can say no … if you don’t love me …” His voice broke on these last words.
“Love,” she said, but it came out as a hoarse whisper.
“What?” he asked, and hope filled his voice.
“Love … love you,” she managed.
He kicked her door, which was partially opened, and carried her inside, laid her gently on the bed, and went back to close the door. After locking it, he returned to the bed and shrugged out of his superfine, undid his waistcoat, and sat on the bed to take her hand.
“Kitty … I adore you … do you understand what that means?”
It was true. It was all true. He loved her.
She nodded her head as the world began to stabilize.
“Do you, my heart? It means, only you … no other, ever … just you,” he said desperately.
“Just me,” she repeated. Then suddenly she took a long gulp of air and sat up straight to eye him warningly. “Of course just me. If we are married, you may not have any other flirt.”
He laughed, but all at once she flung herself at him and, with her arms around his neck, demanded, “Kiss me again and again and again.”
She was on fire as his lips burned against hers. She wriggled into his embrace and whispered, “My dratted gown needs off …”
“Happy to assist,” he growled and began undoing the buttons at its back. She was impatient and pulled at it as she yanked it over her head and flung it to a nearby chair. She wore very little beneath her gown, and even that was soon off.
He took her breasts into his hands and moaned. “Beautiful … so full and luscious. I want to suckle at your nipples all night, my love …” and he proceeded to do just that.
The sensation that skimmed through her made her throw her head back. He loved her. She was going to be his bride and this … this felt so good. She wanted more.
She opened her eyes and started pulling at his waistcoat. He grinned and flung it off. She giggled, and he put a finger to her mouth and whispered, “I adore and love you and damn well mean to keep you happy and safe all the rest of our days.”
“But for now, don’t tell me—now we need action …”
His hands were like magic as they traveled over her body, and she squirmed with need, wriggled with hunger, pushed against him for more.
She knew he was holding back and didn’t want that. She wanted to pleasure him, and she wanted to be pleasured, so when he got out of his pantaloons and kneeled over her naked, she took a moment to stare and then reach for his erection.
He smiled to see her eyes open wide and said, “I have never seen you so tentative, my love.”
“Not tentative—in awe …” she said and wrapped her fingers around its width and slid her hand towards his tuft of dark hair. His blue eyes blazed as she did this, so she repeated the motion, and he moaned and covered her with his body as his mouth took hers once again.
His kisses were ravenous, as though he were a man who had not eaten in days and she was a feast he wanted to savor. His tongue licked at her nipples, first one and then the other. He licked his fingers and then played with her nipples, one and then the other. All the while, she felt his cock pulse and dance against her flesh. It was thrilling and took her to a world of sensation.
He whispered her name and told her in the morning she would have to shop for her wedding gown, as he wasn’t about to wait long for their day.
He said all the right things, and then as his fingers found her cleft she nearly screamed out his name. It felt so good. She had never imagined anything could feel so good.
He found a spot inside her and worked it with his two fingers, and she pumped against it, needing something, needing so much as her body filled with desire and her nerve endings began singing a crescendo.
He nipped at her neck with gentle teeth as she pushed against his fingers. Kitty had never felt so wondrous, and then she peaked, and her insides vibrated with the explosion of sweet release. She shuddered in his arms, jerked, and trembled while he murmured, “That’s my girl … aye then … shall we do that again?”
“Yes, yes, again and again!” she cried hungrily.
He chuckled as his tongue traced a path down her middle to her belly and then parted her thighs wide to allow him to rest his face and lick at her swollen lips.
This was not like anything she had ever imagined.
She arched her back, lost all conscious thought, and gave herself over to the sensations he elicited from her body.
He worked her, and touched her, and then all at once he said, “Kitty, my own Kitty …” She climaxed with an implosion that rocked her against him and made her cry out his name.
He growled and mounted her then even as she shuddered beneath him. “This will hurt a bit, but I will try to gentle it as much as I can …�
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She felt the head of his erection at her cleft and wiggled against it. It didn’t hurt—it felt wonderful, and she wanted more.
“You want this, my love, my passionate love,” he murmured as he began to enter her. “You are so tight …” He lifted her butt with one hand and then quickly rammed himself deep inside.
She felt a sudden tearing of her virginity and stiffened against it, but then he began a movement that rocked her into a dance that made her hold on tight and meet him move for move.
“Damn, you feel so damn good,” he whispered into her ear as he moved inside her. He brought her to a point where she was digging her hands into his back and clinging to him with everything she had because her body was rocking her, shaking her, taking her to a land where pleasure ruled.
He met her release with his own, and they clung to one another tightly, sweetly before he moved onto his back and pulled her into his side. “I hope I wasn’t too rough with you, love?” he said, looking deep into her eyes.
“Oh no, you were perfect,” she whispered. She felt no shame, no embarrassment, as she snuggled into him. She felt only love.
He kissed her forehead. “Soon, very soon, I am going to make love to you all night … in our bed, as husband and wife, but now I think I had better hurry to my own room before Nanny or my grandmother discover us in the morning.”
Kitty giggled. “Yes, but I do hate to see you leave …”
He kissed her long and hard, and it was a goodly while before, in fact, he did actually leave. As Kitty watched him go she thought how boyish and happy he looked, and with a heart full of joy, she fell off to sleep.
~ Thirty ~
MORNING ARRIVED FOR Harry Brentley, and as he artfully attempted to catch Miss Henrietta’s attention, he felt a scathing load of frustration.
She was seated at a round table for five in the Clary Hotel’s lavish breakfast room, with her mother, two of her mother’s chatty friends, and Clayton Bickwerth.
A flower arrangement on Henrietta’s table obscured him from her as she took part in a lively conversation at her table.
Harry knew he might look foolish as his antics, he realized, were fast becoming comical. He was, in fact, attempting to draw her attention to himself by a series of hand waves. He was about to give it all up and quit his table when fate crashed onto the scene.
Clay touched Henrietta’s shoulder during the course of an anecdote he was relating to her. She moved away from his touch and in so doing spilled her cup of coffee.
She rubbed at the cuff of her sleeve and exclaimed, “Oh, how clumsy of me.” She sighed and stood up. “If you will all excuse me, I will only be a few minutes. I just want to get the worst of this before it sets.”
Observing and hearing all this, Harry nearly knocked over his small corner table as he jumped up, followed her out into the vestibule, and called after her, “Henrietta.”
She turned, her eyes opening wide, and said, “Why, Harry, what are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.” His face and his eyes begged.
She softened. “You did?”
“Harry, old boy! I rather thought I’d find you in London before long,” Clay said, coming upon them and then in a sly voice added, “I heard Sarah Anne Wrigley was in town, and where she goes, you were sure to follow.”
“Is she in London? I had no idea, and why you should think such a thing is beyond me,” Harry snapped and turned back to Henrietta. “Please … could I have a private word with you?”
“Ah, Miss Wrigley is in town. How nice for you, Harry. A … private word? I don’t think so. I must see to my gown.”
Harry’s heart sank as he watched her rush off, and then he rounded on Clay. “Damn your soul. I know what your game is, Clay. I have no interest in the Wrigley chit, and you know it.”
“Ah, but you did, as we all know, not so very long ago have an interest in her,” Clay said with a sneer.
“You are both wrong and mad if you think that.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Mark me, Clay. When I am done, Henrietta will know the truth.”
“Will she, my boy? Perhaps, but by then my game will be won, and you will be reading about my marriage to Miss Harkins in the Chronicle.”
“You need an engagement before a marriage, and I don’t mean to allow it, you worthless piece of sot!” Harry made a fist and was ready to pull his erstwhile friend’s cork.
Clay put up his hands. “Do you mean to make a scene right here?”
Harry turned on his heels and headed out. There was only one person who could repair this out of hand situation, and that was Kitty!
* * *
The earl and Kitty were smiling secretively at one another and unaware of anything going on around them at the breakfast table.
“Well, are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?” the dowager said before biting into her toast.
“Guess?” the earl teased.
“I see your ring there on Kitty’s finger!” She put a hand on her hip even as she leaned across the table to wag the other.
The earl laughed and Kitty giggled. Kitty watched and listened as he rose from the table and went around to hug his grandmother. “Wish us well, dearest, and turn the ball into an engagement party. I mean to be married to Miss Kitty Kingsley by the end of the month!”
The dowager clapped her hands even as he kissed her cheek, and then she grabbed his coat sleeve. “Wait—the end of the month?”
“Indeed, I will not wait longer and am only waiting that long because I understand that some preparation needs to be—”
“Stop, you odious man! You can’t … posting of the banns takes time … and—”
“I am going to obtain a special license today, and there will be an announcement in the Chronicle, and all that is left for you to do is to plan the wedding. It will be simple, and we will be there for the ceremony and a bit of fun, and then I am going to whisk my bride away and show her Paris.”
“Paris?” Kitty said. “Oh, I think I might enjoy that. I have often wondered what Paris would be like … and in fact, Uncle Edwin insisted I learn French, though I am not very good at it.”
The butler appeared and said in harried terms, “Harold Brentley insists … and I could not keep—”
“That’s a good man,” Harry said, charging into the room. “Kitty … oh hallo, Lady Halloway.” He bowed his head and then looked at the earl squarely. “My lord. I do apologize barging in on you, but I have come to see Kitty, and I have not a moment to lose.” He turned to Kitty. “He means to have her—and has told her a pack of lies!”
Kitty was on her feet and taking Harry’s hands to steady them and him. “Easy, my friend. Slow down …” As Harry was jerking his head in a manner that led her to believe he wished to speak to her in private, she turned and twinkled at the earl. “I do beg your pardon … my lord, Minnie … but I think Harry needs a word.”
“Of course, my love.” The earl was beside her, taking her fingers to his lips. “But I think the time has come for you to call me Brandon.”
“Indeed, it has, Brandon,” Kitty said, trying it on for size and smiling prettily.
The dowager waved them off as well, and Kitty took Harry’s hand and pulled him along. Even through his distraction Harry had noticed this exchange and said, “Ah, it is like that, is it? Thought it might end that way. Now you must fix things up for me as well, Kitty, for I shall lose my mind if she rejects me because of a lie.”
She took him to the library, poked the small fire in the grate, and turned to find Harry pacing. “Od’s life, Harry do stop. Tell me what has happened.”
“Clay has Henrietta thinking I am chasing after the Wrigley chit, and I swear I am not,” Harry whined.
“Why would he be able to make Henrietta believe such a thing? But you know, Harry, there was a time when even I thought you had a tendre in that direction.” Kitty’s brow went up.
“At one time, ages and ages ago, perhaps I did, but not for at least a year. At any rate, it was
nothing. However, recently we—Henrietta, Clay, and I—were at a little soiree, and the Wrigley chit appeared out of nowhere, took my arm, and I was only being polite but the next thing I knew we were in the garden and she threw her arms around me and kissed me. I didn’t kiss her back, I swear, but who came looking for me at that moment but Henrietta, who I had been courting vigorously … vigorously, Kitty … she … I … she thought I …”
“Ah, that explains a great deal,” Kitty said thoughtfully. “You know, Harry, I am shocked. If you were courting Henrietta, you should not have gone into the garden with that little tart!”
“That is something like what Henrietta said, but the thing is she said she needed to fix her shoe and could I just stand for her to hold onto while she took care of it—”
“Nonsense. You are old enough to have seen through that, and if you didn’t, you should have called a footman to stand for her. It is not your place to serve another woman while you are courting Henrietta.”
He looked down on the ground. “I didn’t see through it, so does that make me some kind of flat? How can anyone always know what a woman means when she says this or that?” he said, flinging his hands in the air.
“Did you try and explain to Ree?”
“It is all I have been trying to do, but each time I get close, Clay throws a spoke into the wheel. He is forever lurking about. Like this morning. I tried to tell her I was here in London just for her, and what must he do but tell her that the Wrigley chit was here and that was why I was in London.” Harry was back to pacing.
“Well, we shall set things right—”
“That isn’t all!” Harry wailed. “On my way here, I stopped by my lodgings, and as I left and rounded the corner, who should I bump into but Sarah Anne Wrigley and her duenna. I had barely said hallo, when who should drive by in an open curricle?”
“Ree and Clay,” Kitty said. “This is absurd. What a devil a bit.”
“Upon my soul, I am beginning to believe he has orchestrated the entire thing,” Harry shouted.
“I agree. Timing you know is everything, and it seems to me that all of this is too much of a coincidence not to have been orchestrated,” Kitty mused out loud. She eyed him and said, “Listen to me, Harry, for this is what we are going to do …”