It was a feeble explanation which did not appear to deceive Alex. He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back with his soothing, capable hands. “Shush now, you are perfectly safe. I will not allow anything to happen to you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and held her a little tighter. “Why are you so afraid of the storm?”
“It is hard to put into actual words.” She tried to formulate a rational explanation, grateful that he could not see the shame in her expression as she grappled with long-suppressed memories. “When we were children Marianne and I enjoyed thunder. The excitement broke the monotony of our routine.”
“But not any more, it seems. Why is that?”
She sighed. “One night there was torrential rain, just like now. I recall opening our chamber window and leaning out, inviting Marianne to join me. I enjoyed the feel of the rain lashing against my face and the wind blowing away the cobwebs in my head. The forces of nature were in full rage, lighting up the sky in a pyrotechnic display of bad temper which was quite spectacular.” She paused, unable to suppress a shudder. “But then the lightning struck in the nearest field, bringing down a tree and trapping new-born lambs beneath its branches. I have never been able to get their terrified cries out of my head. I will never forget the mournful bleating of the ewes calling to the doomed babies either.” She lifted her shoulders and made a huge effort to compose herself. “I dare say you think me foolish and are vexed with me for waking you. I apologize. I am quite myself again now. You can go back to sleep.”
She tried to move out of his arms but her efforts made no impression upon the bands of steel that circled her body. Lightning danced across the curtained window, briefly lighting up the room so that she could see his face. She was astonished to observe that he was looking at her not with annoyance but with deep compassion in his eyes.
“Mother Nature is having a bit of a tantrum,” he whispered, “and so we will simply wait for her to recall her manners. But have no fear, she will not harm us.” Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky. “Count with me, Estelle. Let us see how long it takes for the thunder to come.”
“One, two, three,” they counted together, conscious of the sound of the rain pouring down in torrents before the next loud crack rattled the windows.
“The storm is already three miles away,” he told her.
“How do you know?”
“For every second that elapses between lightning and thunder you can assume one mile. Did you not play that game as children?”
“No, I have never heard of it before.” Estelle shook her head against his chest to emphasize her response. She was still trembling, although not nearly so violently as before. There was something indescribably comforting about being held in a pair of strong arms and she simply surrendered herself to his protective care. Their peculiar situation made it ridiculous to worry about the propriety of her actions.
“Hush, don’t worry, it will soon be past.” He brushed the hair from her forehead with such gentleness, such infinite care, that she felt herself responding to his gossamer touch somewhere deep within her core.
It did not take long after that for her to forget all about the storm. Gently his lips claimed hers. His kiss effectively banished everything else from her mind until all she could think about was the exquisite pleasure that rippled through her. His tongue invaded her mouth, and his hands stroked the length of her body with profound sensuality. She trembled more violently than when the thunder had been directly overhead. Each dizzying sensation was more intense than its predecessor.
When he eventually broke the kiss they were both breathing heavily. Her head came to rest on his chest again and she could hear his heart beating fast. Empowered by the knowledge that she was responsible for his excitement, she tentatively reached out a hand and touched his hair. She realized now that she had wanted to touch him, to explore his remarkable physique, since the first time she had set eyes on him. She had never harboured such salacious thoughts about any gentleman before. Far from being shocked by her wantonness, she felt liberated, especially when he let out a groan that implied anything other than pain.
“That’s right, sweetheart, touch me. Let your fingers explore. Do whatever comes naturally.” She sensed the smile in his voice. “Touch me in the way that I touched you just now.” He guided her hand and let out another soft groan as her fingers tangled with the hairs on his chest.
Estelle had never touched a gentleman in an intimate manner before. Mr. Travis had not expected anything from her other than that she lay beneath his fleshy weight, night after night, in silent capitulation as he did whatever he wished with her. Oh, how she had hated it! He was harsh and appeared to enjoy hurting her, emphasizing his total domination over her. He seemed to relish punishing her for his myriad disappointments, simply because he could.
She had not realized until last night that it was all right to take pleasure from such activities. The discovery ought to have shocked but by then her passions had been stirred to the point that she no longer cared about anything, just so long as Alex’s hands did not stop their sublime journey across her body. He tantalized and teased her with his long fingers, heightening her perceptions until she was pulsating with such an inexorable need that it transcended every other thought in her head.
Alex, his eyes aflame with desire, met her gaze and held it. “You are incredible,” he said, his voice gravelly with passion.
“There is nothing remarkable about me.”
He chuckled, a deep throaty sound, intimate and self-assured. “Allow me to be the judge of that.” He untied the lace at the throat of her nightgown and exposed breasts now covered only by the thin fabric of her shift. This too he removed. It was shocking, she ought to protest, but no sound escaped her lips. Slowly, so slowly she thought the sight of her naked torso displeased him, he bent his head and applied his lips to her breasts. The pleasure he sent cascading through her was primal, and when he lifted his head again, a small cry of protest escaped her lips. “Perhaps we should not do this.”
“It is a little late for an attack of conscience now,” she said, daringly reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. She spoke with assurance but her heart plummeted. Her earlier thought had been correct. He did not desire her. How could she ever seriously have supposed that he might?
“I do not wish to take advantage of your vulnerable state.”
“Have you considered the possibility that I might wish to be taken advantage of?” In the intense, rarefied atmosphere of his embrace she found the courage to admit to her feelings. She was beyond worrying about the consequences of her actions, no longer even hearing the sound of the rain pounding against the windows and the distant rumble of thunder as the storm slowly moved away.
“Very well.” His hands sought her breasts once again and she half rose to meet them, too impatient to be submissive. “Tell me how this makes you feel.”
“Is it all right to talk about it?”
Her voice must have reflected her doubts because he laughed aloud at her prim response. “Oh yes! And not only that, but it’s all right to enjoy it, too. You have no reason to feel guilty.”
“Hum, well perhaps guilt will come later but for now I feel pleasure spangling through my entire body. I have never known anything like it. It pools somewhere deep inside of me. Somewhere that I didn’t know existed.”
“Here perhaps.” His hand came to rest at the top of her thigh.
“Yes, that is exactly the place.” Her breath was coming in shorter and shorter gasps. She heard herself moaning aloud as he did something pleasurable with the hand that was still caressing her thigh.
The caresses stopped abruptly and she moaned again, this time in protest. She was aware of the mattress shifting beneath his weight as he stood up. Reluctant to leave the place to which he had transported her, she was slow to open her eyes. Disjointed thoughts tumbled through her head. Why had he left her? Was he shocked by her wanton response to his attentions? Estelle had been married but this si
tuation was entirely alien to her. She gathered her courage and glanced in his direction. He was shedding his clothes, with no apparent concern for their welfare. His pristine white shirt was pulled over his head and tossed onto the floor in a crumpled ball.
Next came his breeches. Estelle did not think she ought to look but could not tear her eyes away. Completely naked, he met her gaze and held it. The extent of his tumescence both shocked and thrilled her. He was magnificent! Pure predatory, devastatingly robust male. Anticipation tingled down her spine. Tentatively she reached out to touch him. He groaned and fell back beside her on the bed, pulling her beneath him and kissing her as though his life depended upon it.
“Are you sure?” he asked her when he finally broke the kiss.
“Yes, Alex, please!”
He chuckled and kissed the end of her nose. “As you wish.”
She could just make out the contours of his face as he entered her, could detect his tortured expression as he ignored his own needs in order to fuel hers. She shivered, lifting herself to meet him. Something inside her broke and an intense, rushing sensation that she would never have imagined possible exploded through her entire body.
Alex kissed Estelle’s brow, cradled her in his arms and told her to go to sleep. She curled up beside him, made herself comfortable, and did just that. Her feline smile nudged his recently sated body back to life with almost indecent haste. For him sleep would be a long time coming. He had not planned to seduce her, even when circumstances had compelled him to share her bed. It would have been too ungentlemanly for words when he knew her to be both vulnerable and reliant upon his continued assistance. And even when she had been so distressed by the ferocity of the storm, his initial intention had been merely to calm her. The feel of her feminine curves pressed against him ought to have alerted him to the danger he was in. But her expression of transparent faith in his ability to keep her safe, the warmth of her body beneath the thin silk of her nightgown, only added to his eventual undoing.
Alex roundly cursed the storm for placing such temptation in his path. He was becoming obsessed with Estelle Travis. And experiencing the full extent of her remarkable passion and the enthusiastic manner in which she surrendered herself to pleasures previously alien to her only served to fuel that obsession. He reached down and placed a protective hand on her hip, smiling at her somnolent form, and waited for sleep to claim him.
–—
“Good morning.”
Alex was woken by the soft timbre of Estelle’s voice and judged it to be well past the hour when he was accustomed to rise.
“Good morning.” He leaned up on one elbow to better examine her face for signs of regret, encouraged to discover that none were immediately apparent. “I hardly need to enquire if you slept well. Your features are all aglow.”
“I feel very well rested.” She gazed up at him with a smouldering expression that was wholly uncontrived.
“I am glad to hear you say so.” He tore his glance away from her to peer through a gap in the curtains. “There is no need for you to stir just yet. It is still raining and the roads will be difficult.”
“I see.” She raised her arms above her head and stretched. A tangle of copper curls cascaded over her shoulders and onto her naked breasts. She followed the direction of his gaze and made no attempt to cover herself.
“I shall see about breakfast.” He pushed back the covers, intent upon escaping whilst he still had the strength of will to do so.
“I am not in the least hungry.”
“But I am famished.”
Her hand came to rest on the small of his back and he flinched as though he had been scalded.
“Then perhaps it is my turn to ease your discomfort?”
Her sweetly innocent smile banished his half-hearted determination to behave himself and all thoughts of food left his head. And since it was not in his nature to let her get away with such impudence, he was obliged to punish her with a searing kiss. She responded with the enthusiasm he was starting to expect from her and he was lost. His body was already on fire, pulsating with need. He ignored it, drawing upon every last vestige of his self-control as he tried to decide how best to satisfy her.
Which was why they did not set out for Ramsgate until after luncheon. As he drove, Alex cast frequent sideways glances at his companion and would have given much to know what occupied her thoughts. Did she regret what had passed between them? Did she now hold him to blame for seducing her? It was important that he should know. But how to phrase the question?
She turned her face towards the wind, allowing the fresh, invigorating air to cool her flaming cheeks. Not once since leaving the inn had she looked directly at him.
“Are you feeling yourself, Estelle?” He took one hand off the ribbons and covered both of hers with it, seeking to reassure.
“Yes, thank you. I am perfectly all right. Why ever would I not be?”
“No reason. It is just that you seem preoccupied.”
“What shall we do when we reach Ramsgate?” she asked, clearly anxious to change the subject.
“I shall leave the phaeton at one of the inns. After we have refreshed ourselves we shall then go in search of Porter’s place of employment.”
“And talk to him there, in front of his employers?”
“No, I think not.” Alex paused as he guided his team round a large pothole filled with muddy rainwater. “If he was reluctant to reveal any information to you in a letter, he is hardly likely to do so in person. And if anything he said showed him in a bad light, it would leave his employers with no alternative but to dismiss him.”
“Yes, possibly.” Estelle fell into deep contemplation. “Perhaps he was being cautious because he felt that anything he said in a letter could fall into my father’s hands. If he sees that you and I are alone, then surely he will confide in me?”
“It is possible, but I suggest we wait for Porter to leave his place of business and then follow him to his home. If we tackle him there, we will have a better chance of convincing him that we are not acting as your father’s agents. And by not embarrassing him in front of his employers, he will be more likely to trust us.”
“Yes, I can see the sense in what you say, but I am frustrated by the need to delay by as much as one hour.”
“Have patience, sweetheart. It will not be long now.” He turned his team into the mews adjoining one of the better hotels. Trusting to luck that no one of his acquaintance would be within at such an hour, he surrendered the conveyance to the care of the ostler. “Come, we shall take some refreshment before we seek directions to Nesbit and Jones’s establishment.”
Alex watched the arresting young lady seated across from him in the best parlour of the inn, her back ramrod straight as she sipped her tea, and tried to fathom her thoughts. His attraction towards her prevented him from making much of a fist of it and in the end he gave up trying. They were alone in the parlour and, without dwelling upon the wisdom of his actions, he asked her the question to which an honest answer was becoming essential for his peace of mind.
“Estelle, about last night…”
“Yes.” She looked up but avoided meeting his eye. “What about it?”
“Do you consider that I took advantage of your fear of the storm to…well, to…?” Alex’s words trailed off and he raked his hand through his hair as he tried to think how better to phrase his question. His first attempt sounded completely wrong. Never in his life before had he felt so tongue-tied. “What I mean is—”
“What you mean to say,” she responded with a smile that melted his heart, “is that I ought not to make anything of it.”
“No, no, I—”
“Think no more about it.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I was equally to blame. You gave me ample opportunity to demur. I realize now it was a mistake but that is of no consequence since it will not happen again. We were merely forced together by circumstances and did what came naturally at the time, finding comfort in one another.” She sat
straighter still, something he would have considered impossible, and bestowed an arch smile upon him, even though she still did not meet his gaze.
“No, no, you completely misunderstand me. Damn!” he said under his breath when a brisk knock heralded the return of the landlord with the information he had requested.
“Excellent!” said Estelle when the man gave them directions to Nesbit and Jones’s premises. She stood and looked expectantly at Alex. “Come, we have dallied for quite long enough. Besides, I believe we understand one another quite well and there is nothing more to be said in respect of our previous conversation.”
Alex, who ought to have been relieved that Estelle was adopting such a reasonable approach, was perversely annoyed by her attitude. He considered there was a great deal more to be said, but the presence of the landlord prevented him from voicing that opinion. He settled their account, donned his hat and gloves and escorted Estelle from the establishment.
Following the landlord’s directions, they easily located the premises which housed the solicitors’ office. From a convenient position across the road they were able to watch the door without being observed. Within fifteen-minutes a respectable couple emerged, being bowed away by an older man with extreme obsequiousness.
“That is most likely Porter’s employer and those must be his last clients of the day,” said Alex. “And pretty important ones too, judging by his demeanour.”
The man they took to be the solicitor soon re-emerged from the premises, fitted his hat onto his head and directed his steps towards the tavern on the corner. Two more people came out a little later, neither of whom was Porter. It was another five minutes before that person eventually showed himself.
“There he is!” Estelle cried.
“All right. We shall fall in behind him and see where he leads us.” Alex took Estelle’s arm in case impatience got the better of her and she spontaneously approached Porter. “Let us hope that he is not bound for the tavern too.”
Fortunately he was not, and ten minutes later he approached a neat house in a respectable road and produced a key from his pocket. But before he could insert it in the lock, the door was flung open. A young lady threw herself at Porter in a flurry of petticoats, squealing with joy as she welcomed him home. He caught her in his arms and kissed her mouth. Then, looking quickly up and down the road, he persuaded her to return indoors.
A Reason to Rebel Page 13