A Lady's Prerogative

by Annabelle Anders

  It was odd, experiencing both sadness and joy at the same time. Knowing Marcus was leaving hurt nearly as much as Joseph marrying. Except with Joseph, she had gained a sister, and hopefully would one day have nieces and nephews to look forward to.

  But with Marcus—well, he was simply leaving. Leaving her behind.

  Oh, but she was so pleased for him. He’d always wanted this! And she could take a certain comfort in knowing he would be watching out for Lord Hawthorne.

  Garrett needed taking care of, loath as the man would ever be to admit it.

  Natalie clasped both of Marcus’s hands in hers. “Oh, Marcus, that is wonderful! I will miss you, but I am so pleased. Lord Hawthorne is lucky to have you.”

  “My pa is proud near to bursting,” he said sheepishly. “And His Lordship is not overly demanding or fussy. I think we will get on together very well.” He turned her hands so that they were cradled in his. “Aside from my pa, I will miss you the most. You have always treated me as a friend. I will remember you fondly. I hope you will think fondly of me, as well.”

  Feeling a little awkward, because their relationship had always consisted more of teasing and pestering, Natalie smiled back at Marcus. “You know that I will, and of course you will return to visit your pa every so often. This is not goodbye; it is farewell.” She pulled her hands back to her side. “And please try not to cut the earl’s face too much or tie his cravats into anything a dandy would ever wear.” The teasing felt more normal.

  “I shall make certain he never appears looking anything but a perfect gentleman,” he promised and then, walking backward, added, “I already have the earl’s belongings prepared for travel, but I’ve my own belongings to pack this afternoon.”

  “Well, off with you then, Marcus. And…congratulations. I think you are going to do wonderfully. You are the perfect valet for Lord Hawthorne.”

  And so, Marcus, too, would be leaving her.

  Natalie entered her room and then called for a maid to assist her in donning her riding habit. She could not stay in the house this afternoon. She needed to take flight. A good ride was what she needed.

  ****

  Garrett did not allow himself to grieve for long. Shaken by his emotional outburst, he put himself to the task at hand and resealed the paintings as they’d been before. Refusing assistance from the servant who’d been sent by the countess, he did his best to secure each crate so that the contents would be protected, even if exposed to rain on the journey to Maple Hall.

  Lastly, he returned the dresses and drawings to the large trunk. Not even a quarter full, it posed no difficulty as Garrett carried it outside to the back of the carriage house where his traveling coach was parked. By late afternoon, he’d packed everything securely. The physical labor had been just what he needed.

  Satisfied that preparations were complete, Garrett went around to the other side of the carriage house to check in on Rumble.

  The horse was just finishing off the apple Garrett had brought for him when Natalie appeared atop a gorgeous chestnut mare. Sitting sidesaddle in a regal posture, she looked magnificent. Of course, as Ravensdale’s daughter, she would be an excellent equestrian. Garrett waved the groom away as she rode over to the mounting block so he could assist her down himself. Flushed from her exertions, she brushed away some wisps of hair that had escaped from beneath her riding hat. Her eyes burned bright, even as they looked at him warily.

  He gave her his hand so she could dismount from the impractical sidesaddle—another stupid and cruel societal standard. Not only was it hazardous for the women riding but it also endangered the horse.

  Natalie addressed the groom who had stepped back. “She behaved beautifully today, Tobias.” The horse was covered in sweat. She’d not ridden for leisure.

  “I’ll rub her down, my lady.” The groom took the horse’s reins to walk her back to the paddocks. He patted the mare fondly.

  Accusing eyes met Garrett’s. “You are returning to Maple Hall tomorrow?”

  Garrett nodded. Best to leave Natalie to her parents, and to their…dukes. She deserved a proper husband and a proper family—two things he was unable and unwilling to give.

  He ignored the urge to remove her hat and pull out the pins restraining the rest of her hair. Nor would he carry her up to the loft and lay her down in the hay.

  “You have hired Marcus. I think it’s wonderful for both of you.” She didn’t fool him with the false cheer in her voice. And the sadness behind her gaze belied the poor attempt at a smile.

  Ah, yes, he would put an end to this attachment they had formed. He would return to his room, go over some reports, dress for dinner, and then retire for the night before making the journey to Maple Hall tomorrow. He did not plan on stopping. It would make for a long day, but barring any complications, they ought to arrive before darkness set in.

  He would tell her goodbye and then set himself to the challenges that lay ahead. He would not allow himself to be alone with her. He would not allow himself to touch her.

  “Walk with me?” he said, reaching out a hand. Reports be damned.

  She did not move. Raising her lashes, she searched his eyes.

  And then she reached out and took his hand. “Yes,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty

  They slipped out the back of the stables and headed toward one of the less-utilized paths. The trees were dense and the trail overgrown making it difficult to walk side by side. Nonetheless, leading the way, Garrett reached behind and grasped her hand firmly. When they came to a small clearing, she walked abreast of him.

  The meadow, covered in wild flowers, promised peaceful privacy. Hand in hand, they stepped off the path and picked their way into the blossoms until they found an inviting patch of grass. Garrett wore only his shirtsleeves, having removed his jacket and cravat much earlier while working, so he had nothing to lay on the ground for her to sit upon. Natalie stood before him in her full riding habit.

  “You must be uncomfortably hot.”

  It was ill mannered of him to make such a comment. It was also ill mannered of him to appear in his own state of undress—shirt unbuttoned, lacking both his jacket and cravat. But she would not be offended.

  Without answering, Natalie pulled off her hat and tossed it to the ground.

  And then, from beneath her lashes, she sent him a knowing look. Such an enticing combination of sweetness and fire! Taking hold of her shoulders, Garrett turned her so her back was to him. He inhaled deeply, experiencing an unusual need to steady himself. He could not imagine another woman in the world making him feel the way he did now.

  She stood unmoving as he pulled out each jeweled pin securing her coiffure. As though opening a gift, he watched in awe as blond tresses tumbled down her shoulders and back. Still, neither spoke. In this moment, they would communicate with touch, only with touch.

  When he’d removed all the pins, he tucked them into his pocket but did not release her. Instead he reached his arms around to unbutton the jacket she wore over her habit, pulling her against his chest. Her feminine curves melted into him. “Ah, Natalie.”

  She tipped her head back, her breaths more labored than they had been before. Her eyes closed, and a tear escaped. Garrett caught it with the side of his thumb. “What is this?” Whispering, he did not wish to break the spell which had taken hold of them both.

  Natalie shook her head.

  The skin along her face shimmered, fragile as a butterfly’s wings. He caressed her cheeks, her chin, and then his thumb trailed along the seam of her lips. When they parted, the velvety warmth of her tongue sent a surge of heat through him.

  Garrett allowed her to taste and caress the tip of his thumb until she tugged on him with a sweet sucking motion. If this continued, he would embarrass himself, and quite likely her as well, within minutes.

  And yet, he was not dissuaded. He peeled her jacket off and tossed it to the ground where her hat already lay.

  Familiar with the workings of such feminine contr
aptions, he deftly undid the fasteners of her dress. She stood, unmoving with her head bent forward. When he pushed the sleeves down her arms, the dress caught at her elbows. He paused only long enough to place kisses on her bared shoulders.

  All his intentions to avoid succumbing to this need, this hunger for her, had fled. He could not stop himself.

  Freed from the heavy garments she’d worn, the plump mounds of her breasts drew his gaze, just visible beneath her chemise and pushed up by her stays. Hungry to see every inch of her, he pulled her hands downward causing the habit, as well, to join the other clothing on the ground.

  “Does that feel better?”

  Natalie nodded silently. Where was the bold girl of a few evenings ago? She truly was an innocent.

  And then she said, “Will you untie my stays, please?”

  Ah, there she is.

  Unwilling to release her, he turned her to face him, still within his embrace. Reaching around, he undid the tight laces with surprisingly shaking hands. She took a deep breath as the garment loosened.

  It, too, was destined for the ground.

  She stood before him, now, in her very thin chemise, stockings, and a pair of half boots.

  With both her hair and her body unbound, she was all grace and womanly curves. Gloriously female. Garrett would love her, but he would not take. He could not take what he wanted so badly.

  But he would give her the passion she desired.

  He would show her some physical love.

  The grass was dry. There hadn’t been rain for over a week. Kneeling before her, he unlaced her boots and pulled them off. He wanted her to be comfortable. He removed his waistcoat and then reached over his head and pulled off his shirt. Spreading it on the ground, he laid it out to protect her from the dirt and grass. He then lay down and beckoned her to join him.

  They now lay, side by side, facing each other.

  Pressed against one another from head to toe, he finally lay siege to her lips.

  He teased, he explored, he tasted. And then she was with him. With her hands clutching at his hair, she pressed herself into him, arching to be closer. He fought the urgent need to rip open his breeches and take her innocence for himself. Everything else be damned.

  Natalie fought the tears threatening to spoil this moment.

  He was leaving.

  This ought not to make her feel as bereft as she did. Although she had known of him, she’d only really known the man, Garrett Castleton, for less than a week.

  So why should his leaving upset her so?

  When she’d returned from her ride and found him in just his shirtsleeves, offering his hand to assist her off her mount, she’d kept her dignity and forced herself to endure a polite goodbye. For she’d seen it in his eyes—the resignation. His decision to walk away.

  But he had not.

  And now she lay on the ground in only her chemise! Practically naked! Pressed against his bare chest. He still wore his breeches and boots, but his arousal pressed into her.

  She would not contemplate what this meant. Or what they were doing.

  She only wanted to feel.

  Let tomorrow take care of itself. She’d not known it, but she’d waited for this her entire life. Blood roared through her head as she caressed the smoothness of his back. Sliding her hand downward, she explored the sinewy paths of his muscles.

  “Natalie.” He shuddered, removing his lips and lowering his head.

  Oh God, his mouth on her skin felt like heaven. She wanted to be closer. He gave her a gentle nudge, and she found herself on her back, looking up at the sky.

  Pulling away, he gazed down at her. Desire flared hot in his eyes. But there was also tenderness there. “Do you trust me?” His voice came out raspy and hoarse.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not going to make love to you, but I will show you something beautiful if you will allow it.”

  He’d already saved her from herself more than once. “I trust you, Garrett Castleton.”

  With that, one of his hand drifted downward to the edge of her chemise. Without looking away from her face, he grasped the hem and slid it upward. The summer breeze touched her knees, her thighs, and her most intimate of places.

  Still, Garrett lay beside her, staring straight into her soul.

  His hand grazed over the bone at her hip and then around her navel. The swirling caresses gathered a warmth to pool at her core. She squirmed and gasped, but he did not stop his exploration. Sliding past her rib cage, he then cradled the underside of her breast. She squirmed some more and then moaned as his fingertips pulled and teased its rosy tip.

  Unable to help herself, she arched into his touch. She could no longer return his gaze. Torn between a tortured longing and acute embarrassment, she closed her eyes and focused on the sensations of his touch.

  And then his mouth took the place of his hand, hot, demanding, wet. Embarrassment forgotten, she let her knees fall apart. She needed him to touch her there.

  He would not disappoint.

  A longing swept through her, so intense as to be almost painful. But it was an excruciatingly good sort of pain. She pushed into his hand, reaching for him. Suddenly, she understood so very much. This was why a woman would want intimacy with a man. She wanted him to put himself inside of her.

  Such a revelation!

  Everything he did created a frenzy of wanting, of needing, of craving. When she felt something slip inside, she pushed forward and demanded more. He touched places that had never been touched, moving in a rhythm as natural as the tide. She was so close. Her head tipped back, and she gasped for air. Slowing for a moment, he stretched her wider. Natalie thrust her hips off the ground as she reached for completion. His thumb moved as well, rubbing and massaging, building within her an even more exquisite hunger.

  And then the wave crashed, and all of her senses came to life at once. Roaring sounds, flashes of light, the fragrance of grass, and the taste of passion. As though falling, she shuddered and let go of everything. And when she landed softly back into reality, her satisfaction still pulsed as it slowed and then drifted away.

  Awareness returned when warm lips tasted hers. Garrett had long since stilled his hand. He’d been kissing her face and murmuring endearments.

  She lay back and relaxed, utterly boneless. She ought to have been embarrassed when she opened her eyes to see him staring down at her. But she was not. She simply gazed back at him, feeling closer than she’d ever felt to any person in the whole world. He now rested his head on his hand, propped on one elbow, still lying on his side.

  His other hand remained partially inside her. Tenderly, he removed his fingers but left his hand on her hip, in a slow, loving caress.

  He looked rather satisfied with himself.

  Which perplexed her as she knew he’d not found his own release.

  “What was that?” she asked sleepily, in awe.

  “The French call it la petite mort.” He smiled and leaned down to place his lips upon hers. Speaking into her mouth, he said, “The little death.”

  Natalie kissed him back, openmouthed. “And now, I am still here. I must be reborn.” She felt reborn, no longer a girl but a woman. Twisting and writhing, she stretched like a cat. He removed his hand and pulled her chemise down to cover her. As he moved to sit up, she could not help but ask, “What about you?”

  Garrett shook his head. “I will be fine.” It was then Natalie sensed a change in him. Sitting back from her now, he rested one arm upon his knees and looked away from her, off across the meadow.

  His easy smile had disappeared. As though fighting a battle within himself, he grudgingly spoke his next words. “I will marry you if you feel ill-used. But I know it is not something you or your family want.” He forced his gaze to return to hers. “I haven’t much to offer, but what I have is yours, if you wish.”

  She had not felt ill-used.

  Not until he chose to speak to her with all the romance of a mallet!

  His words hit
her like a bucket of ice water. The closeness vanished. She suddenly, ridiculously, felt alone and exposed. He’d gone from lover to stranger in the blink of an eye.

  She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d hurt her.

  “Have I fallen so low, then?” she asked, with as much disdain as she could summon while sitting on the crushed grass in her chemise. “That I am to consider a proposal, a boorish and grudging proposal, from one such as you? From the Earl of Hawthorne, no less?”

  Scrambling to her feet, she gathered her stays about herself. If only she could simply walk away from him. But she was unclothed, and she could not make herself presentable without assistance. “Help me with this,” she commanded. “And don’t look at me like that, as I’m not about to say ‘please’ or any other such nonsense.”

  She clenched her fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms, as Garrett tugged at the laces of her stays. How had he expected her to respond? Nearly shaking in her anger, she barely noticed when he gathered her dress from the ground and brushed the grass from it. Without a word spoken, he dropped it over her head. She pushed her arms into the sleeves, and he fastened it as well.

  “I do apologize,” he said. “I had not thought my proposal would be such an offense to your dignity.”

  Natalie wanted to put her face in her hands and weep. What a stupid, stupid man! Oh, how she hated him!

  “Perhaps, my lord”—she would not look at him—“it was not the proposal itself, but the manner in which the gentleman presented it.” She snatched up her jacket and hat and would have stormed off if only she could locate her boots.

  Oh, where were they? She glanced around to no avail.

  “Looking for these?” Garrett had a sad little smile on his face as he dangled her half boots by their laces in front of him.

  When she went to grab them from him, he seized her wrist and stepped toward her instead. “You know it is not what you want.” He pulled her close and held tight to her as though she were a child in need of comfort. “You are just recently free of an unwanted betrothal.”