The Duke's Christmas Promise (Regency Christmas Romance)

Home > Other > The Duke's Christmas Promise (Regency Christmas Romance) > Page 9
The Duke's Christmas Promise (Regency Christmas Romance) Page 9

by Sandra Masters


  His lips upon her neck burned with escalated desire. The ultimate gentleman, he wanted everything to be her choice, no matter what.

  “No. I want to have this one moment with you. It doesn’t matter if you never see or want me again. I’ve learned to live with that pain,” she whispered.

  “Then, be mine,” he growled, his teeth worrying her lips.

  He led her to his bed.

  <<<>>>

  “I’m yours,” Noelle moaned for him to hear, but she hoped her prayer would soar higher to a merciful God in heaven.

  “Show me. I thought I’d never be naked with you again.”

  The growl in his voice titillated her. Her hands massaged their way down the line of his muscled sinewy back, and then glided over his hips to his firm buttocks. She pulled his hard member to her, writhing against the glory of every inch of ecstasy of it.

  “We can be like this forever.” His wicked smile seduced her as if there were no intervening years. “Is this real? Are we in a dream? If so, don’t awaken me. Let me bask in the glory of love. Touch me, Noelle. For this is blessed and righteous. This is no dream. Feel how real I am.”

  “I feel. I don’t want this to end. I feel.”

  She stroked his manhood. All the while her every thought was that he was close to her. So close. How many times had she relived the passion in imagination? How many prayers had gone unanswered for so long?

  “Can we be one?” she struggled to say in between the deluge of his mouth upon hers. Her hand slid over the firmness of his manhood. He closed his eyes amidst the ripples of demanding desire. Her arms moved up to his neck. Noelle opened her legs wide to accept the length of him, then wrapped them around his narrow waist, their bodies slick, damp, hot and needy.

  “I love it when you tighten around me. It is never enough. More, Noelle. More.”

  “Oh, my love, I never dreamed that this might happen again.”

  Abingdon’s mouth laved at her lips, journeyed downward to her stomach, her navel, and then a final kiss of her female core. Two fingers inched into the wet channel and rubbed her bud until her moans convulsed.

  “Yes, my sweetling, my wanton lady, I’ll bring you to the pinnacle.”

  He nuzzled, this time with his mouth, and sucked the juice of her. Ready to burst, he withdrew a moment to delay his ecstasy. He wanted her to achieve pleasure first. Lavishing her neck with wet kisses, his desire was heightened by their fervent lovemaking.

  “Don’t leave me like this.”

  Noelle pulled at his head to move upward again.

  “This is the wanton lady I remembered time and time again. Wicked lady. Wonderful lady.”

  A grin played at his mouth. He gave a throaty growl, and then a half-smile as he rammed his hard shaft into her until she climaxed. Face in her hair, he inhaled the sweet scent. He paused to enjoy the delight of her fulfilment.

  Her satisfaction pleased him. Just like old times, he thanked his maker.

  She held his head in her hands. Her fingers raked through his wavy locks, encouraged him to do more. He went to his knees, poised his mouth at her thatched core and licked the bud in slow circles until he tasted her again. With masterful strokes, his tongue worked its magic until she screamed his name over and over.

  Overwhelmed by her pleasure, he raised his body and blew his hot breath at the spot below her ear, centred his firm member into her wet heat, felt her muscle tighten around him, and growled his ultimate satisfaction as he pumped furiously. He needed her to know she was his, and that this act of intercourse was sacred to them both. This ultimate consummation would be the first of many, since they had rediscovered each other. Love could heal all wounds.

  <<<>>>

  Noel lay languid in his arms, his chest hot and hard against hers as contentment flowed through her every pore. He made her feel like a goddess when he worshipped her body. She devoured his lips as his vice like grip threatened to squeeze her to death. The fire in her belly started again, begging to be quenched. This time, she straddled him, moved forward slightly, her hands on his chest, and centred herself on his now erect, slickened cock, and ground herself into him. The heat and strength of his hands on her buttocks, pressing her to him, consumed her, sending shivers of delight like miniature lightning bolts through her body. She rubbed into him faster, blood racing in her ears, sensitive to every motion, and bucked into his rhythm until the torment ended and the wave of ecstasy satisfied and transported her to a dream world. She heard herself crying out his name over and over and then was left breathless in a delicious daze.

  Exhausted, she moved her body alongside his, snuggled her backside into his groin, and blessedly fell asleep, content in his strong arms.

  Not sure how long she had slept, she awakened to sunlight. She raised her arms, turned her head to him, “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “Good morning,” he answered.

  “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

  Her smile lazily scanned the contours of his body.

  “No, it wasn’t. How do you feel?” His grin spoke volumes.

  “Hungry.”

  “For more of the same?” His hands now slid over her body.

  “Later. Right now, I’m famished,” she got to her knees and was amazed at how comfortable she felt with him, stark naked. She placed one hand gently on his stomach and circled it. “This all feels utterly natural, Abingdon.”

  “If you don’t stop circling me, I’ll have to service you again before you eat — food.”

  “Oh,” her eyes widened. “Goodness, it’s bright morning. They’ll be looking for me.”

  “Who?”

  “The staff.”

  She arose quickly from the bed.

  He stopped her.

  “We have to talk,” she whispered.

  “I’m listening.”

  He pulled her close.

  “I didn’t know how or where to find you. I had every intention of telling you about…”

  The words couldn’t leave her mouth.”

  There remained the secret she’d held for years.

  She’d had every intention of telling him about her pregnancy, until she’d read the letters from their fathers. She now placed the blame where it belonged, on two old men who’d decided their future.

  Their son was a grown, successful man, capable of making his own decisions. If, as his mother, she didn’t tell young Trevor of his true parentage, would he condemn her for the rest of his life, when and if he discovered it himself? Would the son resent and blame her for the twenty-one years he could have used his father’s guidance? If he did find out from someone else, would he hate her for the beautiful lie? It occurred to her that the barrister had advised that he had sent her late husband’s letter on to America for Trevor. Noelle’s and Abingdon’s fate had been cast.

  No matter what the future bode, she felt that their son, Trevor, had the right to know his true parentage. She’d trust in his love for her and his sisters.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noelle read all of the forged letters again and cursed their fathers for their malice. She embraced the freedom that spilled over her having decided that the time was ripe for the absolute truth.

  “Trevor Sutton, let me try to simplify all of this.” Her courage returned in a large dose of reality because his strong arms encircled her. “Please let me finish, and then you may ask your questions.” She searched his face. “The truth can be hard to bear.” She settled her head on the pillow next to his, her eyes locked on his, and recounted the entire story. “We’ve both read the forged letters. There is not too much to add. In desperation, at Robert’s death, I needed to find a respectable way of livelihood. The driving force in my life was to accumulate enough money to leave England and forget — you.” He nodded. “You were no longer in my life. I wanted to leave this cursed country for it only held shame for me. The simple truth is that my son is your son.”

  Abingdon’s face showed no emotion.

  “While I suspect
ed that your son was mine, you’ve now confirmed that fact. I have a son.” She gazed at his face. First, his forehead creased in a frown, then he locked eyes with her, then he smiled grandly, “I have a son.” His eyes brimmed with tears as he raised his body, crossed his legs on the bed, and shook his head. “It’s hard for me to believe, but I confess, I wondered. Our parents were heinous. They played us in a horrific game. I understand from Allyn that her father was a good man. I’m grateful. He raised our son as his own. It was courageous and honourable.”

  She raised herself up and sat across from him on the bed.

  “Yes, he was a man of valour and conscience, and never wavered in his love for us. Perhaps you now understand that I didn’t have a choice. Your father hated me because I was not an aristocrat. My father would have married me to some despot if he’d known of my condition. Heaven above sent me Robert in my gravest time of need. This is the end of that story.” She faced him. “I know that we were both used. I want to trust in you again, but our future is still blurred. What will we do?”

  “Such wonderful news and you claim it uncertain - why?” His forehead held a long frown. The tone of his voice was arctic. “Why? Answer me.”

  “You have an heir in Sutton who deserves his entitlement. My son — our son — is in America where such circumstances are of little importance. He is successful in his own right and loved Robert with all his heart. How will he accept his true parentage?” Clasped hands covered her bare chest.

  Abingdon jumped out of bed, then turned to her.

  “If I’d known about him twenty years ago, I would have acknowledged him. You had no right to withhold such information. This predicament is unfair to all of us.”

  She arose from the bed, found a wrapper, and placed it around her.

  “I did try to find you. You were off to the wars. In any event, we may not have a choice. The solicitor sent Trevor the letter which Robert had left for him, a few months ago, when he came of age.”

  He drew up his breeches and buttoned them.

  “What a fine kettle of fish this is.” He paced in front of the bed. “How he must hate me.”

  “Correction, Abingdon. How he might hate us, for I knew the truth. You weren’t back in England. How would I know how to find you?’ she defended.

  “You are an extremely resourceful woman. You could have found a way. With all of your contacts, you could have consulted the Foreign Office.”

  “Again, it’s easier to place blame on me and not where it belongs? On two old men who lived only to separate us? May they rot in hell.”

  He rang for Pembrooke.

  “I believe we both need coffee.”

  “Oh, no.” In anger, she scanned the room for her clothes and ran to gather them. A tap on the door halted her as she looked for somewhere to hide. “I can’t be found here.”

  “Why not, Noelle? We fathered a child. We made love all night. What’s wrong?”

  “We are not married, you dolt. If society views me as an improper woman, it will be difficult to sell my property. I must get to America now.”

  He spoke with a laugh.

  “Enter.”

  Pembrooke entered the suite of rooms. To his credit, his face showed no emotion.

  “You rang, Your Grace?” Silence. “Good morning, Lady Fenwick.”

  “You think so?” she answered the Butler, then turned her back and sat in a high leather chair.

  “Pembrooke, I have instructions for you. First, send us a light breakfast. Coffee and toast for me.” He peered at her. “Cocoa and fruit for you, Noelle?”

  She nodded.

  “Contact my solicitor and my banker. Have them arrive today. Inform them that an urgent matter has arisen. When my nephew awakens, have him meet me in my private study for I have great news for him.”

  “Sir, what about all of the guests who remain?”

  “Yes, that is a good question.”

  Abingdon went to stand in front of Noelle.

  “Lady Fenwick, beloved Noelle, will you marry me? I’m a little bit late on my promise, but I mean it now the way I meant it then. It’s Christmas Day.” He dropped to one knee and reached for her hand and kissed it. “Don’t refuse me. If I get down on two knees, I might not be able to get up.”

  He grinned at her.

  She remained silent, scrunched her nose up, then exhaled, her voice somewhat amazed but gay when she spoke.

  “If you also summon the archbishop to marry us tonight, I will consent. You will have to obtain the proper license. We can have the ceremony with the guests as witnesses.”

  Abingdon arose.

  “You have your instructions, Pembrooke. See to it. Also, get me information on the latest sailings to New York City in America.” He went to his cigar box, handed him a cigar. “Pembrooke, this lovely woman has informed me that I have a grown son. Celebrate with me. In fact, take the cigars with you for the staff to distribute when appropriate.” He turned to her. “What about your other daughter? Where is she?”

  His mind was in high gear for his happiness knew no bounds. Thanks to all that was holy, he had a son by the only woman he ever loved. By Jove, he had a true son!

  “She’s on her way home to London and should be there now. If you send a messenger to Conrad, my Butler, I’ll pen a note for her to come at once. Are you sure about this, Abingdon?”

  “I’ve never been more sure, my dear. You’ll not get away from me again.”

  He turned to his servant. “It is still early. Arrange to bring all of Lady Fenwick’s belongings up and place them in the next room. She’s soon to become a Duchess. Be quiet about it. No need to wake everyone. They’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Anything else, Your Grace?” Pembrooke’s face now held a broad smile.

  “We are prepared for another dinner this evening?” he asked and gazed at the coy woman who hid her presence in the chair.

  Noelle answered, “Yes. It’s on the schedule. It will suit unless you intend to invite the entire countryside.” Her voice rang with laughter. “What a week this has been, Your Grace. If this is a dream, please don’t awaken me.”

  “Have my valet prepare my uniform for the service. That is all, Pembrooke. Close the door behind you.” He lavished his gaze upon her with love in his heart and desire still on his mind. “Noelle, do you have a proper gown?”

  “I brought enough gowns. I’m sure any one of them will do. One is in gold metallic to match your braid and epaulets.”

  Abingdon then went to her, pulled the clothes from her hands, and flung them to the floor. “It’s not a dream, but if it were, I wouldn’t let it end until you grace my bed again. I find my passion has returned and it is rapacious, my dear.”

  She arose and went to his arms. “My one concern is telling my daughters the truth. I’ve been strict with them about their morals. Now I have to explain Trevor’s parentage.”

  “I’ll be by your side. We’ll explain together. We have the damned letters. Most of all, we have each other. Then we all will face young Trevor.” He whispered in a husky voice to her ear. “Hmm, my Lady, I neglected one thing.” He paused, turned toward her, his broad grin a testament on his face. “I love you.”

  Her arms flew around his neck. “I love you more.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears of absolute joy. He led her back to his four-poster bed, his desire too obvious, her nearness too intimate. He now held the world in his arms.

  “Wicked man,” she teased.

  “Wanton woman.” He patted her backside and kissed her again and again, inhaled the fragrant essence of her hair and the scent of sensuality that emanated from every pore.

  Life held new meaning for them both as renewed lovers, and as a family.

  Chapter Sixteen

  On the HMS Alceste to America

  Abingdon spoke to the Captain of the vessel, who advised that he expected to make port late the next day. They’d been on board ship for over thirty days, and Captain Bloward assured him they would arrive ahea
d of time.

  With Noelle by his side, he was excited about starting this new adventure. Her daughters, Allyn and Roberta, were in the salon at breakfast. His nephew had stayed with Noelle and his uncle at the rail.

  “Sutton, by now you know the entire story. The excitement of having a son of my own overwhelmed me. It’s hard for me, even now, to believe it - the words keep repeating in my head. We’re glad… no, I’m thrilled that you and Allyn are with us on your honeymoon. Do I sound like a grand idiot? I’ve lost so many years and I can’t wait to make up for everything.”

  Sutton grinned.

  “Uncle, you never cease to amaze me. Imagine the stories you can tell your son.”

  “I’ve thought long and hard on this new event. The estate is entailed and it is yours, for you will succeed me to the title. No court in the land would deny you the use of the lands and the house, especially when I have given my written approval of your continued use of it. Nor would I challenge your right in any way. My son, Trevor, is a successful man in the Americas. I’m leaving England behind to reside in this new country, and I feel no great loss, since I’ve already spent so many years abroad. There’s a sense of fate about all of this.”

  Sutton clapped Abingdon on the shoulder.

  “You are right. In any event, I have my new wife, Allyn. You have the wife that should have been yours, decades ago. I’m content, and it appears that so are you. We have extended families. It suits me fine.”

  “Why are you grinning so broadly, Sutton?”

  “I’m happy for both of us.”

  In the distance, seagulls appeared to float on the airwaves - a sure sign land would soon be in sight.

  “Sutton, aren’t you glad that you and Allyn decided to make the trip? I know you have your estate to think of, but your wife will be pleased to see her brother again,” Noelle asked as she peered at the gulls wheeling overhead.

  His nephew laughed at the turn of events.

  “Who would have thought we’d have a double wedding ceremony on Christmas night, uncle? You orchestrated the events with precision, and outlined all of the practical reasons it would be a boon for us. I’m glad you interfered, because if you hadn’t, I’d have been forced to sleep in a separate cabin, without my wife’s pleasures.”

 

‹ Prev