His hand tightened on the rough bark as he thought of the last few days and the new love that had grown between them. He had learned of a different side of himself. A gentle and tender side that was irrevocably in love with the beautiful young woman below him. And what of her? He had gotten to know the real Sabrina. The one who laughed and teased him, who flirted with him and begged for more kisses. She’d fallen in love with him. But if she ever remembered? If she ever became aware of his deceit, would she forget their newfound love and turn on him? How could he deny that he’d married her for personal gain? But then, how could he convince her that something he had not anticipated had happened… he had fallen in love with her?
He picked up the nest and climbed higher, safely resettling the fallen home amongst the boughs.
“Be careful, Lucien,” Sabrina called, shading her eyes from the sun as she watched nervously as Lucien made his way carefully along the swaying branch. He’d nearly reached the trunk when the branch he stood on cracked sharply and with a lurch Lucien’s feet slipped and he made a grab for the branch nearest to him.
Sabrina screamed helplessly as he hung suspended for an instant of time and then dropped to the ground through the branches below. Sabrina ran to him where he lay still on the ground, the tall meadow grasses concealing him.
She knelt down beside him and with shaking hands rolled him over, only to find his arms wrapped around her, pulling her down on top of him. He grinned up at her worried frown, his teeth gleaming white in the sunlight.
Sabrina gave a sigh of exasperation, pushing at his chest ineffectively. Still peeved by his trick she lowered her smooth cheek to his, smiling with satisfaction as he yelped when her teeth bit playfully on the lobe of his ear.
“Vixen,” he murmured softly before his lips found hers and he rolled her gently beneath him in the sweet-smelling grasses. His mouth touched the rosebud and followed the stem along the warm flesh, feeling the round smoothness of her breasts with his lips.
Sabrina gave a sigh of contentment as she felt his weight against her and caressing his neck and face she met his amorous gaze warmly.
“I am so much better, Lucien, that I think I need not dwell in that big bed by myself any longer,” she said shyly.
Lucien hugged her tightly and kissed her long and hard until she drew back breathless. “Do you, perchance, find sleeping alone as unrewarding as I do?”
Sabrina blushed, to his delight, and with a devilish look in her violet eyes said casually, “I am not sure my memory serves me, for it has been so long since I’ve enjoyed your company in bed, that I fear I have forgotten.”
Lucien chuckled, anticipation darkening his eyes as he interrupted her. “You will soon remember it to your heart’s content. I shall see to it that you have more than memories to remind you of me.”
“I have indeed more than memories,” she reminded him impertinently, “to remind me of you.”
Lucien placed a firm hand on her stomach, a smile in his eyes. “Shall we have a daughter or a son, I wonder.”
Sabrina gave him a provocative look. “You wouldn’t allow me to have anything but a son, so he can swagger along in your disreputable footsteps.”
Lucien’s chest rumbled with laughter as he returned her look archly. “Me, swagger? I have seldom seen a pair of female hips swagger so! Be careful or the child will become seasick.”
Sabrina giggled happily and winding her arms tightly around Lucien’s neck kissed him hungrily, surprising him by her ardor as she clung to him.
They wandered slowly back to the house, their hands clasped, fingers entwined as they walked through the garden and entered the hall. Sims beamed with approval when he saw them, forgiving the duke past offences now that the young mistress was so obviously happy.
“Tea is being served in the salon,” he told them, and then added, “guests are also present.”
Lucien nodded and led Sabrina into the room where Mary was pouring tea for Lord and Lady Malton and Lord Newley.
“Tea?” Mary asked with a sigh of relief when she saw Lucien.
“Yes, please,” Sabrina answered promptly. “We’re famished.”
She sat down next to Mary on the settee, pulling off her hat and shaking free her curls, unaware of being the center of attention is she selected a cream-filled cake.
“Lady Malton was just telling me the most unbelievable story, Lucien,” Mary said as she handed him a cup.
“Oh, really,” Lucien remarked in boredom, his eyes on Sabrina as she licked a dab of cream from the corner of her mouth.
“Yes, it is quite ridiculous, really,” Mary rushed on, “for she claims that she saw you carrying the notorious Bonnie Charlie in your arms.”
If Lucien was surprised he kept it well hidden as he laughed. “I was carrying Bonnie Charlie in my arms?” he repeated incredulously. “I have always preferred my lovers to be in skirts.”
Lady Malton choked and turned red in the face while Lord Newley hid an appreciative grin behind his hand.
“Well, really, your grace, Lady Malton didn’t mean that at all,” Lord Malton said huffily.
“Although I Told her she’d been out in the sun too long,” Lord Malton added with a mouth full of rich cream. “Make a fool of herself, I said.”
“I know what I saw, and I was wearing a bonnet,” Lady Malton persisted stubbornly.
“I really do not have the slightest idea what you are talking about, or indeed why you should concern yourself with my affairs. However, you might have mistaken my brother-in-law, Lord Faver, for this notorious bandit, for I did carry him one day when he had twisted his ankle, but as for him being Bonnie Charlie, I seriously doubt that, Lady Malton,” Lucien replied suavely.
“But I saw the eagle’s feather and a glimpse of plaid as you turned to climb into the coach,” she argued, refusing to believe she’d been mistaken.
“Plaid?” Sabrina asked curiously as she sat innocently sipping tea. “Our grandfather’s—” she began conversationally, only to be interrupted by Lucien.
“My dear, don’t you think you should rest a bit, it has been a rather fatiguing day for you,” he suggested, cutting off her words effectively. “My wife’s health is still fragile,” he explained to their guests as they all stared at Sabrina.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do have the devil of a headache, it must be from too much sun, so if you’ll excuse me,” she apologized, feeling suddenly very tired as she rose to her feet.
“Of course, your grace, of course. Mustn’t tire ourselves, eh?” Lord Malton exclaimed, full of understanding for the lovely young bride, while Newley just stared, his desire openly revealed in his eyes.
Lucien watched worriedly as Sabrina left the room, impatient for the Maltons and Newley to leave so he could go to her. He accepted another cup of tea and sat through the desultory talk, contributing little to their chatter until finally, during an uncomfortable silence, they took their leave.
Mary closed her eyes in relief. “That was awful.”
Lucien turned, stopping his pacing. “I had no idea that woman had seen me leave the church with Sabrina. But the ridiculousness of the situation saved us. However, I thought Sabrina would surely give the game away with whatever she was going to say about your grandfather. I wasn’t sure how she would react when the name Bonnie Charlie was mentioned, but she didn’t move a muscle. I’ve been worried about mentioning anything concerning the past to Sabrina, so I haven’t. I just hope this hasn’t upset her. No telling what talk of Bonnie Charlie could trigger in her memory.”
“You’re playing with fire, Lucien, and I’m afraid someone is going to get burnt.”
Lucien looked at her, startled. “You haven’t seen something have you?”
“No, but it’s obvious that things have not gone as you planned, have they, Lucien? You’ve fallen in love with each other, and yet you’ve built that love on a
very shaky foundation. If she should remember, Lucien?” Mary looked at him pityingly.
“It will not matter. She will be my wife, and there is nothing she can do then. If she does remember, well, she’ll remember the love too,” he said obstinately. “She is tied to me as my wife, and as the mother of our child. The bonds are too strong for her to break.”
“She will feel anger, and betrayal first,” Mary warned him, “and later she may admit her love for you, but it may be too late by then.”
Lucien stared at her wise face silently, and then arrogantly raised his chin. “I’ll not lose her, Mary. She is mine—and no one else’s.”
“I pray that it will all work out. She needs you, Lucien, but the circumstances under which she has found out she does are odd to say the least. She is very stubborn and hot-tempered. When she finds out that she has been lied to, that you have deceived her, well, I just hope that she never remembers. It would be far better.”
Lucien found Sabrina lying on her bed, a hand pressed to her temple as she rested. Hearing him enter she opened her eyes and smiled, holding out her arms to him as he came towards her. With an answering smile he sat down next to her and took her into his arms. She snuggled against him and pressed her cheek against his throat.
“Lucien,” she said hesitantly, “I feel as though I am in a daydream half of the time.”
“Lovers always walk around in the clouds,” he answered carefully.
“But it is different from that,” she persisted as she looked up at him. “I feel I should remember something. There is something nagging at the back of my mind that is important. I know it is. Oh, why can’t I remember, Lucien?”
“You don’t need to remember. I can tell you everything you need to know. The past isn’t important, only our future,” he told her roughly.
“But I feel so blank at times. You don’t think that I am becoming like Aunt Margaret, do you?” she demanded worriedly, gripping Lucien’s forearms.
He gave her a gentle admonishing shake. “Of course not. You’ve been ill, and have just forgotten a few inconsequential details,” Lucien reassured her.
“Forgetting you? I would hardly call that inconsequential,” Sabrina retorted tartly.
“It doesn’t matter, since I am here now to give you new memories. You’ll remember someday, but by then we’ll be in our home with our children and our new life to keep your mind occupied, and the past will seem unimportant. Believe me, Sabrina.”
“But it plagues me, Lucien. I want to remember and when I try I get such headaches.”
“I said not to try,” Lucien spoke angrily, his voice hard for the first time. “I forbid you to continue. You have our marriage to think about. Let that be your only concern.”
“Lucien,” Sabrina said reproachfully, “you’ve never spoken this way to me before.”
“That is because you have never defied me before as you now persist in doing,” Lucien answered autocratically. “Will you listen to me, and do as I suggest?” he asked persuasively as his hand slid under the lace of her dress and caressed her smooth shoulder while his mouth pressed kisses against her temple and he rubbed his cheek against her soft curls.
Sabrina wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “I trust you, Lucien, please don’t be angry with me. I can’t bear it, I love you so. Don’t ever leave me,” she cried, clinging to his warm body desperately. “Promise, Lucien?”
Lucien held her tight. “You’ll never get rid of me, Sabrina, my love. In fact, you shall probably tire of seeing this scarred face of mine, but leave you, by God, no I never shall,” he swore softly against her scented hair.
Sabrina struggled from his arms and balancing on her knees faced him, a glowing light in her eyes as she leaned forward and rubbed her creamy cheek against his scarred one, letting her lips trace its ragged length until they reached his mouth and lightly touched his lips.
Lucien slid his arms around her small waist and pulled her off balance and against his chest, feeling the flame of desire flicker through his veins as she lay against him, her fragrant softness sending his senses reeling as he felt like staring forever into the dark purple depths of her eyes that returned his gaze with matching desire.
Her lips parted slightly and accepting the invitation Lucien lowered his mouth to hers and passionately parted the tempting lips that moved enticingly against his. He kissed her long and deep, pulling her close to his heart, wanting her so desperately and possessively that he agonized of losing her, and was jealous of anything that threatened their happiness.
Sabrina dragged her throbbing lips free of his, the rise and fall of her breasts rapid as she took deep breaths of air. “Thank you for giving me your child, Lucien,” she whispered softly, her face full of love for him.
Lucien sighed deeply. “If you were not already carrying him, you soon would be, Sabrina, my love,” he spoke huskily, very moved by her sweet confession. “But now I must leave you to rest,” he said reluctantly, unable to resist one last kiss from her lips before he got off the bed.
Sabrina settled down in the pillows and gazed up at him with possessive admiration. “Are you sure that I can’t persuade you to stay, my love?” she asked as she stretched provocatively, her dress riding up over a silk-stockinged calf.
“Soon enough you will no longer have a wistful expression, my alluring little Sabrina.” He walked to the door and turning to gaze on her beauty added, “You play the coquette well, but remember, my pet, you are the seductress only for me, or you’ll fan into flame my already too jealous nature where you are concerned.”
Sabrina smiled enchantingly, hugging her arms together, her breasts swelling beneath the lace of her bodice. “Only for you, Lucien,” she promised, closing her eyes sleepily.
Lucien smiled with satisfaction and left her. He could handle her, he thought with assurance. She wouldn’t remember because she didn’t want to. She was in love with him, and remembering would destroy that. And should she ultimately remember, it would do her no good, for she was wed to him and she could not escape him—nor would she want to, he thought arrogantly, banishing even the thought of losing her from his mind.
“Hey, Lucien!” Richard called out as Lucien passed the opened door of Richard’s room. He stopped and retracing his steps entered the room. Books abounded, but now there was also the addition of riding boots, a shiny new gun hanging over the mantelpiece, and a fishing rod propped in a corner.
“Are we still going to try out my new pistols?” he asked eagerly as Lucien saw the flat box on the bed, the lid opened to reveal two beautifully wrought pistols.
“Of course, Richard, and if you are to learn how to shoot, then you’d better learn properly. I can’t abide carelessness or trifling with firearms or weapons of any kind.”
“I’ll be real careful, Lucien. You will show me how, won’t you?” He looked to the tall man hopefully, admiration written on his face as he watched the duke handle the weapons.
“Tomorrow,” Lucien said and smiled as Richard gave a crow of delight.
He started to turn and leave the room when he felt a tug at his sleeve and glancing down saw a small, slightly grubby hand holding on to the fine fabric of his coat. He looked into the young, earnest face, the eyes blue-gray behind the glass of his spectacles.
“Lucien,” Richard began shyly, his cheeks flushed as he searched for words. “Are you going to take Rina away soon?”
Lucien nodded. “Soon, after she has gotten some of her strength back. You did know that we would not live here?”
“Yes,” Richard murmured quietly.
Lucien put a finger beneath his rounded chin and raised his face. “What is troubling you, son?”
“Well, I know the colonel is going to take Mary away soon, too. I’ve seen them holding hands and looking at each other in funny ways.”
Lucien hid his smile at Richard’s description.
“And?” he encouraged.
“And, well, I like the colonel, but I like you better, Lucien,” Richard admitted, looking up into Lucien’s face with his heart in his eyes as he added hesitantly, “I don’t want to be left here. May I go with you to your home, Lucien? I’d work real hard, and never get in your way, and I don’t eat much. Please, Lucien, I don’t want to leave Rina. I’d miss her something awful,” he choked, turning his head away with embarrassment.
“I just thought I’d ask, and if you don’t want me, it’s all right, I won’t bother you again.”
Lucien looked down at the bent red head compassionately. “Now, you don’t really think Rina would go off and leave you? Why, I’ve already picked out a horse for you at Camareigh, so you’ll have to come. You’ve no other choice for I insist.”
Richard raised his face, his eyes shining. “My very own horse?”
“Your very own. Of course you’ll have to name him,” Lucien warned, “and take good care of him.”
“Oh, I would, truly I would,” Richard breathed in awe. “You won’t change your mind, will you? Even if I’m bad and don’t study my lessons? Mr. Teesdale said I’d been lacka—, well, lazy, and he was going to tell you.”
Lucien laughed. “I’ll tell you a secret, between only you and me now,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“I promise not to tell,” Richard answered solemnly, crossing his heart to seal it.
“Well, I played hooky more than I care to remember when I should’ve been cracking the books, but who can resist a warm afternoon when the trout are big and jumping in the lake? But don’t do it too often,” he cautioned him.
“I won’t, in fact I’ll study extra hard,” Richard promised, a wide smile on his face.
Lucien patted his small shoulder fondly. “Good lad, and remember, tomorrow I’ll teach you a few pointers about those pistols of yours.”
Richard impulsively hugged Lucien around the waist, pressing his hot face against the man’s waistcoat. “Thank you, Lucien,” he mumbled before turning away, flustered, to examine his pistols. Lucien stared at the boy for a moment before leaving the room, wondering why pleasing that little fellow should leave him feeling so pleased himself? The poor little man. That was exactly what he needed—a man to take him under his wing and teach him what all young boys should be enjoying. His own son would not be left to grow up without a father’s guidance. His son—yes, he liked the sound of that. He wanted this child that Sabrina carried. She was hardly more than a child herself, and yet she would bear him a child—his heir. And what a child it would be, he thought proudly, as he saw her beauty and spirit.
Moonstruck Madness Page 31