by H. C. Brown
Her face grew hot and she forced down the urge to cover her breasts from his admiring gaze. She trusted him and ached to have him buried deep inside her, but she understood the need to wait. For now, she would enjoy anything he had to offer. He had promised to return for her and she would cherish their time together and look forward to a future by his side. She held up her arms to him and forced her trembling lips into a smile. “I would like that very much.”
“Ye will not be sorry.” He trailed his cool fingertips over her breasts and bent to capture her mouth.
She arched into his caress and opened for his exploration. The taste of whisky exploded across her tongue and she moaned kissing him back with passion. His touch set her aflame, her nipples hardened to painful peaks, and she gripped his shoulders in an effort to drag his mouth down to sooth them.
“Ye will make a demanding lover. Ma dream is to have ye in my bed and make ye scream out ma name in desire, but I will not have ye without the sacrament of marriage.” He lowered his head and used the tip of his inquisitive wet tongue to circle each tingling nipple. “Mmm, you taste better each time.” His attention moved downward in slow deliberation. “You have such an exquisite navel.” He circled then plunged inside making her tremble with anticipation.
Heat filled her cheeks. “Am I not a deal larger than most women? Indeed, my height and fullness are my downfall as is my hair. Most gentlemen prefer petite blonde ladies.”
“I dinna like skinny women and your hair is magnificent. A man would be blind to now see ye are perfect in every way.” He raised one dark eyebrow and smiled. “Grasp the arm of the chair and dinna let go until I tell ye. I want to see your perfection stretched out and open for my touch.”
Restless, she tossed her head from side to side but complied and gripped the arm of the chair behind her. A wave of panic hit her. Heavens above, would the wetness coating her inner thighs disgust him? She pushed all thoughts aside, the moment his mouth closed around one nipple and then the other. “Oh!”
“Do ye like ma touch?” Drew lifted his head, his lips wet, and glossy. “I would hope so because ye taste verra fine.”
She blinked and tried to make sense of his words. The art of conversation had fled and she nodded.
“Ye are so beautiful, so verra beautiful.” He palmed her breast in one hot hand and scraped his nails across her sensitive buds.
Each of his movements, each gentle caress, or teasing pinch drove her mad with desire. When he cupped her mound, she rolled her hips to meet the tantalizing strokes of his long, skillful fingers, and as the tips slid between her folds and circled her swollen nub, she gasped in delight. Shimmers of sublime sensation unfurled within her building and surging in wonderful erotic waves. She clung to the chair panting. Dear God! My head will surely explode if this continues.
His low chuckle broke through the haze of delirium and his warm breath on her most private parts startled her. She dropped her arms and clamped shut her thighs. “You surely do not intend to taste me there?”
“Aye, I do and as with your breasts, ma touch will only bring ye pleasure. Open your legs for me, Adrianna, and allow me to savor every part of ye.” He pushed her knees apart and she dropped one of her feet to the floor opening her to his gaze. “Ye are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. So wet and needing ma attention. Now, lass, hold onto the chair for I will not stop until ye have reached your conclusion.”
She blinked at him unable to understand but did as he commanded. “My what?”
“Hush now and enjoy what I offer ye.” He gripped one breast in his large hand then bent his head.
His soft kisses to her mound brought forth instant rolls of tormenting delight tunneling deep inside her. She dug her fingernails into the silk fabric of the chair heedless of the damage and lifted her hips caught in wave after wave of incredible sensations. When he pinched her nipple and tormented the throbbing nub between her folds, she bucked. “Oh, please, I cannot stand such pleasure. It is too much to bear.”
Drew held her hips in his large hands then slid them under her to squeeze her bottom in a most delicious fashion. She could do nothing but squirm under the forbidden delight of his expert ministrations. Caught in the flames of rapture, she gasped for air. Heat raced up her thighs and the erotic sensations expanded then flowered into a confection of exquisite delight. Tremors wracked her and her legs jerked uncontrollably, but she wanted more. Placing one foot firmly on the floor, she pushed her aching folds toward his deliciously tormenting mouth.
“Drew, dear God … I—”
He circled her throbbing nub with the tip of his wicked tongue, then with a feral groan closed his lips over her and suckled hard. Spots danced behind her eyes and with muscles twitching, she rode the crest of erotic euphoria and hovered there on the brink of delight before crashing into lustful oblivion. Floating on a cloud of pleasure, she lay back reveling in his soft kisses. He gathered her in his arms and his damp lips closed over her mouth. She opened to him, accepting the possessive and demanding kiss he offered.
“Ye are mine. Nay other may touch ye.” Drew growled against her mouth. “Do ye hear me, Adrianna? Ye are mine.”
She gazed into eyes filled with passion. He had given her a gift to treasure and yet taken nothing for himself. “Yes, I am yours and I will wait for you, I promise.”
When he stood, a cold chill brushed over her. Bereft of his heat, she hugged her chest. Pain of loss as deep as mourning gripped her and she took in the sight of him memorizing every inch of his handsome features. How would she survive without him now? She loved him with every part of her being. Heavens, he would see her unhappiness and believe she had not enjoyed their encounter. She would bury the turmoil raging inside her and force her expression into one of blissful happiness. His memory of her must be of love and devotion. When his gaze moved over her face and his lips curled into a satisfied smile, she sighed in relief.
Drew took a jug of warm water from beside the hearth and filled the wash basin. He washed and dried using a thick cloth. Adrianna’s face shone with love and contentment. The times they had been together, he had prepared her for his touch, and she had responded well. Her declaration to wait for him had tied an unbreakable knot around his heart and he would do everything in his power to become a suitable match for her. He wanted her father’s blessing for her sake and not for her fortune, but whatever the outcome, Lady Adrianna Beachwood belonged to him.
He swallowed hard, hoping the ache deep in his balls would subside. Christ, his beautiful Adrianna’s ardent response to his touch had pushed him to the brink of insanity, and how he had abstained from sinking into her liquid heat, he had no idea. Indeed, the madness to have her and damn the consequences had waged war in his head from the moment he touched her. He had overstepped by easing her, but had wanted to demonstrate what she could expect from him in a loving relationship. In truth, he desperately wanted to prove his desire to make her happy in and out of the bedchamber. She perhaps thought of him as a rake, who only sought his own gratification, and he hoped he had rid her of that notion.
He wrung out the cloth and strolled toward her. “Will ye allow me to wash ye?” He unfurled her legs and pressed kisses to her hard pink nipples then lifted his head and smiled at her wide blue gaze. “Will ye remember me now?”
“I will never forget you and not for the exquisite way you made me tremble, but for you, the most honorable of gentlemen.” She cupped his face and her eyes filled with tears. “I will miss you more than I can say.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away to wipe away the remnants of his lustful advances. She trembled under his touch and the need to comfort her welled up again. He must keep his head, Rupert would return soon and his advances had gone far beyond genteel kisses. His cousin would be well within his rights to be angry. He turned back to her. “Rupert is waiting. I will help ye dress.” He stood and gathered her corset and gown. “How will ye busy yourself during ma absence?” He offered his hand and pulled her
to her feet.
“I am sure Rupert will keep me company and away from any of my father’s acquaintances.” Adrianna turned to allow him to tie her laces. “As your clan is sickly, perhaps I should spend some time with my father and at least obtain some knowledge of healing.” She stepped into her dress and pulled it over her arms. “To be sure, there are many children, orphans, and street ruffians I can help too if I have a little knowledge of such things.”
He buttoned her gown then went about pushing a few dangling curls back into her coiffeur. He turned her to face him and smiled. “I ken about heeling too. Aye, ye should learn as much as ye can from your father. To be sure, we would make a fine pair working side by side.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and sighed. “Rupert will continue to call on ye for as long as he is able. Now, I want ye to promise me, if your father makes plans for one of his friends to wed ye, I beg ye to inform me by way of Rupert. He will get word to me and whatever the cost, I will return.” He frowned. “Ye ken I canna write to ye, it would not be seemly to do so.”
“Yes, I understand and it would be doubtful my father would allow me to read such correspondence. Will you write to Rupert?” Adrianna chewed delightfully on her bottom lip, her blue eyes filled with despair. “Perhaps you could send news of your father and details of your expected return to London?”
He pulled her into his arms. “I will write to Rupert as soon as I am able and send notes to ye. He will show them to you, but they must be destroyed directly.” He sighed. “Until I am able to speak to your father, we must keep our secret or all will be lost.”
A sharp knock sounded at the door and they sprang apart. Drew grabbed for his wig and pushed it onto his head then turned to face the door. “Yes, who is it?”
“It is Lord Rupert.” The door opened and he sauntered inside raising both eyebrows at Adrianna. “It is the last set before supper and you have been absent for over an hour.” He smiled and winked at Drew. “I returned to the house and made comment that Lady Adrianna was indisposed. Although, I gather a few matrons have been scouring the palace looking for her." He sniffed the air and his nostrils flared. “I do hope I will not be accompanying the pair of you to Gretna Green?”
Drew glared at his cousin. “What are ye suggesting? Ye have ma word we dinna need to elope. Although the idea has merits, I dinna care for King Geordie sending redcoats after us and to be sure, her father would go straight to him should she go missing.”
“No, he would not because Lord Beachwood believes she is with me.” Rupert rubbed his chin and stared blankly at the wall. “No, eloping is out of the question. I would return alone and believing the worse, my father would most likely shoot me for dishonoring the family.”
“Christ, Rupert, have ye got sawdust between your ears? I dinna say we planned to elope.” Drew straightened his waistcoat. “Now take Adrianna back to the house afore her father insists ye marry her. If that should happen, cousin or not, I will be the one doing the killing.” He shrugged into his jacket.
“Very well.” Rupert moved around Adrianna inspecting her with a critical eye. “You will do.” He offered his arm. “Come along.”
Tears welled in her beautiful eyes and Drew pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to her. “Ye have ma word, Adrianna. I will come back for ye or die trying.”
Adrianna’s gaze searched his face for long moments and although her lips trembled, she smiled.
“I know you will. Goodbye, Drew. Godspeed and may you find your father recovered.” She gave a curtsy.
He bowed and fought the lump closing his throat. “I will not say ‘goodbye,’ Adrianna. Au revoir, ma cherie.”
Chapter Six
Three months later
“I most certainly made an error of judgment by allowing you to attend my patients with me.” Lord Beachwood’s mouth formed a thin line. “A very grave error indeed and one I regret.”
Adrianna stared at her father in disbelief. “I enjoyed visiting the sick with you, Papa.” His angry gaze unnerved her. “I am most grateful for the opportunity to learn from you and I must offer an apology if I have overstepped my mark. You see, I have found great satisfaction in helping the sick and needy. I do believe it may be my calling.”
“Indeed! If I had known the truth of your intention, I would never have allowed you to accompany me.” His lips curled in disgust. “I cannot dare to imagine what will happen if the king gets wind of his goddaughter sneaking out unescorted, let alone discovering you have engaged in treating the pox infected rabble.”
He took out a blue enameled gold snuffbox and tapped it as if deciding to indulge. His penetrating gaze sent shivers down her spine.
“Really, Adrianna, I am at my wits end with you. This very morning, Lord Rupert confided, he does not intend to make an offer for you after all and in truth, I do not blame him. Who would take you after reading this?” He slammed a crumpled broadsheet on the table before her depicting an exact representation of her standing in a crowd of scantily clad prostitutes outside a brothel.
She glanced at the headline: Lady Light Skirt and her face grew hot. So they think I am a whore. “I can ex—”
“How many gentlemen of consequence do you believe will offer for you now?” He grabbed the paper and waved it under her nose. “Not one would dare tarnish his good name with the likes of you, madam.”
She gaped at him unable to breathe and waved a hand dismissively as if the article held no consequence. “Really, Papa, how could you think such a thing? My giving succor to the sick was not the reason Lord Rupert failed to make an offer. Indeed, Lord Rupert believed my involvement with the sick was a noble gesture.”
“A noble gesture, you say?” Her father rounded on her eyes blazing. “Yet, he thought it necessary to deliver the damning evidence into my hands?”
She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to prevent the tears threatening to spill. “Lord Rupert would never do such a thing, not ever.”
“Look at me.” Her father rapped his knuckles on the arm of the chair. “Lord Rupert is so concerned the gossip will ruin his reputation, he is planning to leave London for the country.” He snorted with disdain. “My God, and to think you have been friends since childhood.”
How difficult it must have been for dear Rupert to speak with her father on such a delicate matter. He had stood beside her in Drew’s stead for three months and had discussed how he would respond should her father demand to know his intentions toward her. Not with a disgusting broadsheet but with the excuse, he did not look upon her as a wife but as a sister. She lifted her chin and glared at him. “He told me he would be leaving London on his father’s bequest. My working with the sick had nothing to do with his leaving or this filthy rag.” She grabbed the broadsheet from her father’s hand and tore it into shreds dropping it heedlessly on the Chinese rug. “I have lost nothing, Papa, because I would have refused Lord Rupert as well.”
“What is wrong with you, Adrianna?” His lip curled into a snarl. “Have you spent so much time wool-gathering you have not noticed the bloom of youth has left your face? Have you not seen the wealth of beauties in their first come out? By the end of the season, you will be too old for consideration by any gentlemen of consequence.” He sighed. “Not that it matters now after this public humiliation.”
She flinched under his cruel words and dropped her gaze to her lap. How she wished she could mention her love for Drew Mackenzie but she dare not. Since meeting him, she had wanted to yell his name from the rooftops but had given her word to Rupert to remain silent. After all, Drew had promised to return and his many notes had confirmed his devotion. She understood the problems he faced with his clan took time to resolve and she had a lifetime to wait if necessary. For now, gazing at the moon at nine o’ clock each night would have to do. She met her father’s furious gaze. “I do not care to marry at this point in time, Father.”
“Indeed? Is it not bad enough you have become an embarrassment to me?” His expression hardened. “How do you thi
nk society will react seeing your face plastered across a broadsheet? You have made me a laughing stock at Whites and I will not tolerate this situation a moment longer. It is time for me to take a firmer hand in the best interests of all concerned.” He took a miniature from his pocket and placed it on the table before her. “Fortunately Baron Jean-Pierre du Court has made an offer, so it would seem your reputation has not yet reached France.”
Baron du Court? The name sent a shiver down her spine and the memory of Drew’s conversation detailing his barbarianism flooded her mind. She swallowed hard searching for a way to make light of the situation. “An offer? He has never laid eyes on me.” She peered at the miniature portrait of the ugly French baron and suppressed a grimace.
“Nevertheless, he sent his man of affairs with his offer and is very keen to wed you as soon as possible.” His eyes sparkled with triumph and her stomach roiled in fear.
She had made her choice and would take no other but in an effort to appease him examined the portrait closely. The splendid luncheon of eel pie turned to a brick in her stomach and threatened to rush up the back of her throat. Nauseated, she flicked open her fan to cool the growing warmth flooding her cheeks. Her father’s consideration of an offer from such a distasteful old man concerned her.
The image of her handsome Highlander crossed her mind. She remembered his kisses, the soft caress of his lips, his promise to return to her. He will come and end this farce. Fear curled in her chest making it hard to breathe. Dear God, if Rupert departed for Scotland, she would have no way of contacting Drew to explain her situation. She pressed her lips together in an attempt to focus on how to deal with the intolerable situation. She required more time and would not allow her father to force her into marriage. Changing her expression to one of disdain, she met her father’s unyielding expression. “I am sorry, Papa. I cannot accept this gentleman’s offer.”