Grandfather had been wily enough to retain his title and keep his land while many aristocrats all over Italy had been stripped of both by the French and their local Jacobin allies. She had every confidence he would outwit the Austrian pretenders as well.
But she also sensed the count was not a man accustomed to being denied what he wanted. And he wanted her—whether or not she came willingly.
Was Will aware of the urgency of her situation?
If she wished to be sure of spending her life with the man she preferred, she couldn’t wait until Will proceeded to a declaration at his own pace. She must discover without further delay whether he truly loved her and could be faithful to her.
And if he pledged that he did and he could…A thrill of excitement and desire shivered through her. There was only one sure way to bind herself to Will so inseparably that neither the count nor her grandfather would ever be able to part them. Despite the hovering presence of maids, footmen and duennas, she’d have to seduce him.
A little smile of anticipation playing about her lips, Allegra set her mind to figuring out how.
DETERMINED TO SECURE Allegra’s safety before von Strossen could move against her, Will arose the next morning ready to put in motion the plan he’d formulated while lying sleepless through the night. Figuring it would be easier to spirit her away in daylight than after dark, when he risked alerting someone by stumbling around in unfamiliar surroundings, he decided to have her steal away this afternoon, while the heat drove everyone indoors.
He set Barrows to work investigating possible locations for the assignation, only to receive the inadvertent assistance of the duke himself. While the gentlemen partook of breakfast, the duke approached Will to thank him for his dinner conversation and invite him, as a fellow landholder, to tour his estate, that Will might compare the agricultural techniques employed at San Gregillio to those used in England.
And since his English guest seemed so appreciative of garden design, the duke added, Will mustn’t miss viewing the garden house at the far end of the formal parterre. Within that small structure, a fountain surrounded by potted herbs and ferns refreshed air perfumed by the scent of jasmine, just now coming into full bloom.
Immediately after breakfast, Will sent Barrows to reconnoiter the spot. When his valet reported back that it seemed the perfect place for a secluded rendezvous, he told the man to make preparations and be ready to stand guard.
Next, Will penned Allegra a brief note begging her to meet him at three in the garden house. He sent Barrows to deliver it, trusting that the valet would be able to move about without suspicion in the afternoon while the guests were immured in their chambers. Whether Allegra would be able to steal away, he’d not discover until the rendezvous.
Confident she would come if she could, an hour after the guests retired, Will stealthily made his way to the garden house. He’d wait until dusk. If Allegra failed to arrive, he’d simply think of another plan for tomorrow.
Though the idea of finally being able to worship the body he’d yearned to caress for so long made him almost dizzy with need, Will also knew that making love to Allegra on the grounds of her grandfather’s estate was dangerous. Should their tryst be discovered, they would be catapulted into a situation with immediate and unpredictable consequences.
Of one thing, however, he was sure. He must return to Brookwillow soon, and when he did, whatever he must do to accomplish it, Allegra was coming with him.
Hardly noting the charm of the little room or the enticing scent of jasmine, Will paced the travertine floor, anticipation, excitement and worry churning in his belly. He’d almost given up when a quick darting motion caught his eye—Allegra, moving along the screen of tall cypress trees that bordered both sides of the parterre.
As he waited for her to cross the last fifty yards, Will suddenly felt uncertain. Barrows, with his usual efficiency, had placed behind the garden bench several cushions and a thick, beautifully embroidered coverlet. The longer Will stared at them and the towels and water pitcher discreetly behind them, the more this looked like a crass, cold deflowering rather than a romantic rescue.
His attention distracted by that troubling image, Will jumped when a creak at the door announced Allegra’s arrival. His heart lit with joy as she walked in.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, taking her hand. “Did you have any difficulty—”
“No, everyone was sound asleep,” she replied quickly. “Anyway, I should have done whatever it took to get here. Will, I’ve missed you so much! I thought I must go mad if I couldn’t see you.” With that, she came into his arms.
Grateful, greedy, he held her while she clung to him. She fit so perfectly there, he thought, listening to the thud of her heart beating against his. And suddenly, his doubts and worries vanished like spray from the fountains under the hot afternoon sun.
He didn’t need to take her innocence by stealth, like a thief who filched what wasn’t rightfully his. As if he were ashamed or afraid to confess his love to the world. No, he would announce his intentions boldly to her grandfather—and Count von Strossen.
If the Austrian tried to prevent Will from marrying Allegra, Will would be delighted to deal with him. As for her grandfather’s objections, though Will would be sorry if he could not convince the duke to give them his blessing, the only consent he really needed was Allegra’s.
He’d ask for her hand and if she accepted him, the pledging of her faith would be enough. He’d wait to enjoy her passion and innocence until their wedding night, when he would take her reverently, as a bridegroom should.
That resolution removing the weight that had burdened him, the loveliness of the garden house began to steal over his senses. Holding Allegra close, he let its magic wash over him: the dappled shadows cast by the trellises, the trickling play of the fountain, the heady scent of the delicate blooms peeping out from a swirl of glossy leaves.
Allegra pulled back within the circle of his arms. “It’s lovely here, isn’t it, Will? ’Tis one of my favorite places on the estate, especially with the jasmine in bloom. How I’ve longed to share it with you!”
“The loveliest thing on this estate is now in my arms,” Will replied. Taking a deep breath, he went down on one knee before her. “Allegra, I’ve loved you since that first night at Lady Ormsby’s rout. I loved you when I proposed the first time, though with you set on wedding Lynton, I dared not admit it. Let me joyfully affirm it now! Much as I love Brookwillow, I can offer you nothing to compare with what you have here, but if you marry me, you shall have my devotion in full measure. I shall work my whole life to make sure you never regret leaving this.”
“Oh, Will,” she whispered, her face luminescent. “I love you, too, so very much. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than at your side. But…are you sure you could be faithful only to me? For I must warn you, I could not tolerate—”
“Idiot!” He chuckled as he stopped her lips with his finger. “How can you doubt that I want you and only you, for the rest of my life? But are you sure, my heart? Until recently, ’twas your cousin you’d always wanted.”
“Please,” she groaned, “don’t remind me what a fool I was. But my blindness did serve some purpose. If I had realized sooner that I loved you instead of Rob, if I had accepted your first offer, we might have been wed and at Brookwillow when Signore DiCastello arrived in England. I might never have found Grandfather and Alessandro. Being away from you gave me time to purge my mind of my youthful delusions and learn who truly holds my heart. Indeed, should I meet Rob again, I could in all sincerity wish him happy with his chosen bride.” She grinned. “With you beside me, I might even manage to be civil to Sapphira.”
So thrilled was he by her affirmation that it took him a moment to recall the one bit of London gossip he knew she’d appreciate. Chuckling, he said, “You shall not have to put civility to the test—yet. In anticipation of bringing home that bride, Lynton dispatched his late father’s widow to the family estate in Cumbria.”
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“Truly?” Allegra gasped. “Poor Sapphira! I can almost feel sorry for her. Well, I shall pray that her exile leads her to revelations as wonderful as mine. Now, you were about to ask me something?” she prompted.
“Indeed I was. Will you marry me, Allegra Antinori, Duchessa di San Gregillio?”
“I will marry you gladly, Lord Tavener of Brookwillow. Now,” she added, a naughty gleam in her eye, “doesn’t that call for a kiss?”
In no hurry, for she would be his now and they would have all the time in the world—the rest of their lives—he drew her chin down and touched her mouth with his.
More, more, his rampaging senses urged, but he tried to ignore them. He could be patient. He could.
Well, perhaps a bit more, he conceded as Allegra’s tongue nudged his lips apart and slipped into his mouth.
Ah, he groaned at the pleasure of her tongue against his. Soft, sibilant, stroking. The ravening beast of need roared louder. Perspiration broke out on his brow, his palms as he tried to resist it.
Knowing he could not stand much more temptation, he drew back. But before he could imagine her intent, Allegra started unknotting his cravat.
Uttering a strangled laugh, he caught her hands. “Allegra, what are you do—?”
She put her finger against his lips to still them. The knot disposed of, she began unwinding the neckcloth. He raised his hands again to stop her, then dropped them. The neckcloth was now ruined beyond repair anyway.
He took in a shuddering breath as, tossing the neckcloth aside, she pulled open the top button of his shirt and placed her lips against the hollow of his throat.
“I’ve waited so long to do this,” she murmured.
Heart hammering, his erection so hard its confinement within his breeches approached pain, he tried to protest. But his words died in a gasp as her tongue darted out to lick the moisture accumulating in the hollow of his throat.
He gasped again as, still kissing him, her busy fingers moved to unbutton his waistcoat. “’Tis too warm for this,” she said.
Too warm indeed. He was afire with need, a controlled burning still, but all too close to exploding into raging conflagration.
Freeing him from his waistcoat, she started on the buttons of his shirt. Despite the fountain-moist air on his bare chest as she exposed more skin, the mere thought of her helping him disrobe nearly severed the few remaining fragments of his badly frayed control. This time, with trembling hands he made himself stop her.
“Don’t, Allegra,” he said urgently. “I’ve wanted you too badly for too long to resist much more. And I love you too dearly to take you for the first time here, on a garden-house floor. I want us to have a bed with fresh, flower-strewn sheets. I want to remove your wedding gown slowly, paying homage to each beautiful inch of you.”
“I’ve wanted you just as long, Will,” she countered. “And I don’t want to wait. What could be lovelier than this place, spangled with sunlight and scented by jasmine? More important, I want to make sure that beginning today and forever after, I will belong to you and you alone.”
“Because if I make you mine, you cannot be claimed by anyone else,” he said, realizing then that she must be as aware of the danger posed by the count as he was. “So you intended me to…so that we—”
“Yes, and yes,” she interrupted, smiling. “Love me now, Will. Please.”
’Twas all he needed to evaporate his few remaining good intentions. Eagerly he raised his face to her kiss. Once again, he reveled in the dance of tongues, teasing, pursuing, evading, capturing. As he languidly explored her mouth, he began undoing the fastenings of her gown.
Fingers trembling, his breathing shallow, he freed her bodice as he tossed away his shirt. He made short work of her light stays, discarding them beside his shirt. And then drew back to admire the perfection of her full, plump breasts, clearly visible beneath the fine linen chemise.
Eyes glazed, her lips kiss-swollen, she gazed back at him. “Beautiful,” he murmured and leaned forward to capture one dusky nipple.
She gasped as he used teeth and tongue, nibbling and suckling from areola to tip, dragging the wetted linen across her sensitized skin. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, holding his head to her breast.
She murmured in distress when he pulled away, then quieted as he spread the coverlet over the cool floor. The padded surface prepared, he guided her away from the bench and eased her down upon the soft embroidered cloth.
He paused long enough to reach toward the arbor and pluck one perfumed bloom. “The sweetness of the jasmine pales beside yours,” he murmured, trailing the blossom across the rigid tips of her nipples before bending to follow with his lips the path of the flower. While he lavished his attention on her breast, he slid a hand under her skirts to caress her leg.
Suckling still, he stroked her thigh and hip, pushed the skirts up to expose the pale limbs beneath. Once again he drew the flower over her skin, from the round of her hip across the smooth inner thigh to nudge her legs apart.
He was trembling as much as she by the time he trailed the jasmine over her mound, down between her parted legs, over the fragrant moistness of her outer lips. Discarding the flower, with his fingers he cupped her, then rubbed gently as he moved his kiss back to her mouth.
He took her gasp on his tongue as he slowly parted the outer petals with his thumb and drew a finger over the rigid bud hidden within.
Ah yes, she was as passionate as he’d imagined, her breath turning to sobbing gasps as rhythmically he stroked within the tender folds. And while she hovered on the brink, he simply had to sample her, greedy to take the taste of her pleasure on his tongue and inhale her scent, more potent and heady than any flower.
She cried out when his mouth touched her. Fisting both hands in his hair, she began to undulate her hips rhythmically in time to his stroking tongue. Gauging his caresses to the rapidity of her movement and the raggedness of her breath, he kept her on the precipice, her cries of pleasure joyful in his ears before at last she crested, writhing with the intensity of climax.
Smiling, he kissed her eyelashes, her nose, her cheeks, then lay beside her and gathered her close, swallowing hard, his eyes wet with tears at the fierceness of the love swelling his chest.
For a few sweet minutes he watched her doze, so incredibly lovely with the dark moist tendrils curling upon her brow, her near-transparent chemise, damp from passion and his tender ministrations, molded around her ample breasts and luscious curves. He couldn’t wait for her to awake so he might begin again.
As if upon the thought, her eyes fluttered open. Smiling, she touched his lips with her finger. “I love you, Will,” she whispered. “Now let me love you.” She reached for the straining buttons of his trouser flap.
Knowing his control would disintegrate the moment she touched him and wanting to make the wonder of this interlude last as long as possible, he seized her hand and kissed the fingers, then tucked it in his and bent to nibble her breasts. By the time he allowed her to free him from his breeches, he had once again used his lips and fingers on her breasts, her thighs, her slick inner passage to bring her a gasping, sobbing pleasure.
“Please, now, Will,” she cried. “Make me yours.”
Bracing himself with rigid arms, he positioned himself over her and slowly eased inside. Sweat popped out on his brow as he resisted the imperative to thrust hard and bury himself within her. “I…don’t want…to hurt you,” he gasped.
Apparently beyond speech, she shook her head and tilted her hips up to take him deeper. As gently as he could, he pressed down, until suddenly he passed the point of resistance and his cock descended in a slow satisfying slide to her very center.
She gasped, her nails biting into his back, then moved urgently beneath him. He moved with her, guiding her into the timeless rhythm of lovers’ pleasure, gritting his teeth to stave off his own climax until he felt her cry out beneath him. And then gave himself up to the cataclysm.
Dizzy then, his heart hamm
ering, he rolled over to his back, taking her with him to cradle against his chest. It seemed the most impossible of dreams come true that this beautiful, unabashedly passionate creature had pledged her heart and her future to him. Or that he would travel so far from Brookwillow to find the peace and joy of coming home to the place where he belonged, with her in his arms, pleasing her, delighting in her pleasure.
He must have dozed for a time as well, to awake weighted down by a sense of the most intense happiness. Then he realized Allegra, his beloved, soon to be his bride, lay against him, her head tucked on his shoulder.
“Incredible,” he murmured, stroking the satin of her bare shoulder.
As she raised sleep-befuddled eyes to his, he whispered, “Time to wake, beloved. We must get you dressed as best we can and send you back before anyone misses you.” After a lingering kiss that tempted him to begin all over again, he helped her to sit up.
“Not yet,” she protested, tossing down the stays he handed her. “Oh, Will, you can’t take me on the most exquisite, unbelievable journey I’ve ever experienced and expect me to simply go back to Signora Bertrude.”
“But you must, my darling.” Patiently he fitted the stays around her and fastened them.
“Well then, only if you promise to come to my room tonight,” she said, reluctantly submitting to his ministrations.
“I cannot, my heart, and you mustn’t tempt me,” he said, slipping her bodice back up over her arms and haphazardly fastening the back. “When next we take that journey, I want you in my bed and I want you as my wife.”
“That’s all well and good, but when do you think you’ll be able to afford for us to leave? We can’t count on Grandfather’s blessing and I fear Count von Strossen might interfere if we linger.”
Will began to chuckle softly. “My impetuous darling, ready to run off in the face of your family’s objections with a penniless rogue! At the risk of forfeiting your affection, I must confess that I didn’t leave England under threat from the duns. Domcaster lent me the money to begin restoring Brookwillow. I had just completed the structural repair of the manor and put in my first crop when I received your letter. And then…well, even knowing how far above me you’d risen, having both the funds and your permission to visit, I couldn’t resist trying to win you.”
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