She wrapped her arms around his waist. This was not the reaction she’d expected.
“I’ll get a special license—Shall I leave tomorrow or wait until after the house party?—and we’ll be married as soon as may be.”
She felt as if she were being swept along by a flood, unable even to grab for a low hanging branch to stop her progress. Still, she had to make the attempt.
“You don’t have to marry me, Alex.”
He held her away from him and frowned fiercely down at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I have to marry you. I will not have my son or daughter born a bastard.”
“But—”
“No.” He put his finger on her lips. “If you do not care for me, you should never have invited me into your bed”—his voice dropped—“and into your body.”
“But I feel like I’ve trapped you.”
“Kate, I’ve never wanted to be trapped more in my life. I’ve dreamt of marrying you for twenty-three years and now that you are carrying my child I will not be denied.” His eyes turned guarded. “Is it you who feel trapped?”
She sighed. “I did when I thought I would bear this baby and face all the scorn and condemnation alone. When I imagined what my brother and the Weasel would say.”
Alex pulled her against him again. She rested her cheek on his chest. She felt so relieved.
“They will say ‘congratulations’ and ‘best wishes.’ And if they are silly enough to count the months on their fingers, we will ignore them.”
“Mmm.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I love you, Alex. I tried to be a good wife to Oxbury, but I never stopped loving you.”
“And I love you, Kate.” His hand stroked her hair. “I have missed you, you know. For twenty-three years.” He laughed. “And I’ve missed you even more these last few weeks, when I knew exactly what I was missing.”
She felt safe and protected—no longer alone. It was wonderful. But something else would be even more wonderful. “Do you suppose we might go to bed now?”
She felt his chuckle rumble in his chest under her cheek. “To sleep?”
She started to pull his shirt out of his breeches. “Eventually.” She ran her hands over his belly. In place of fear and worry, she now felt an overwhelming…lust. And love, of course. But right now she wanted him inside her as quickly as possible. She slid free one of the buttons on his fall.
“Eager, are you?”
“Yes. Very.” She got the fall open and almost sobbed with pleasure. He was not wearing drawers. She wrapped one hand around his thick warm shaft. “Take your shirt off.”
“So demanding. Is this what motherhood does to you?” Alex’s voice sounded breathy and a bit strained. “Careful, Kate, or you’ll unman me.”
“I don’t want to wait, Alex.”
“An understandable sentiment.”
“I’ve waited too long.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but you will have to wait a moment more or you will have me spilling my seed in your hand.”
“Oh.” She sighed and regretfully let go of her prize. She stepped back. “Very well.”
Alex wasted no time. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and hauled it over his head in one deft motion. Then he shoved his breeches down over his hips and kicked them out of the way.
“Ah.” She’d thought she’d remembered every detail of his body, but she had not. Or perhaps it was just that memory could never do reality justice. Naked, his shoulders and chest seemed impossibly broad—much broader than when they were confined by shirt and coat. His arms bulged with muscle and sinew. Dark hair dusted his chest, trailing down to…Mmm.
She reached for him. He grabbed her hands.
“No, you don’t. No touching until we remove this voluminous nightgown.”
She flushed. “I wanted something more seductive, but this was all I had.”
He grinned. “The only problem with this nightgown is that it is still on your body. It will be lovely in a heap on the floor, I promise you.” He grabbed the skirt. “Raise your arms.”
She raised her arms, and he pulled the nightgown up and off her as quickly as he’d disposed of his shirt. Another night he would move slowly, teasing her, but not tonight. Tonight he felt like a starving man who suddenly finds himself at a banquet. He was too hungry to savor the feast.
Zeus, she was beautiful. Lovely, small breasts—though perhaps not as small as they had been—Was that another indication of her condition?—flaring hips, gently curving belly…He put his hand over the place where his child grew. His child. To have Kate and a babe…It was almost more joy than he could bear.
He grinned again. Ah, to have such problems. He bent to flick one of Kate’s nipples with his tongue. She squeaked and grabbed his shoulders. He was delighted to be burdened with such happiness.
He lifted her onto the bed and scrambled in after her.
Kate reached for him, but he evaded her grasp. “Not so fast, my love.”
She grabbed for him again. Didn’t he realize she was desperate? “Yes, Alex. Now. I need you now.”
He held her arms above her head with one hand. “Soon, I promise, but not quite yet.”
He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw, the base of her neck. She twisted her hips, spread her legs, arched her back. His light kisses were teasing her to the point of madness.
Ah. He finally reached her nipples. They were so tight and hard. His tongue flicked over each in turn, and then he latched on and sucked.
It was good—it was wonderful—but it was not enough.
“Please, Alex.” She would beg, cry, scream, whatever it took to get him to go where she most needed him.
He freed her hands so he could stroke her breasts, while his mouth at last moved lower. He paused to leave a lingering kiss on her belly.
“Do you suppose it’s a girl or a boy?”
“Huh?” For the first time since she’d realized she was increasing, she was not thinking about the baby. “I don’t know.”
She tried to feel warm and maternal, but all she could manage was hot and carnal. “Could we talk about this later? I need you to attend to something else first.” She flexed her hips.
Alex laughed. “You know, I think that is probably a good idea. I find I’m slightly distracted myself.” He grinned rather wolfishly up at her and then dipped his head again. He had moved from her belly to her—
“Eep!” She sat up, the sensation was so exquisite.
“What? Do you like this?” His tongue flicked over the very sensitive little spot between her legs.
“Yes. Oh, yes.” She lay back and opened her legs wider. His hands cupped her bottom and lifted it slightly. His tongue probed delicately, teasing…
She was going to explode. She was going to die. She was going to—
“Alex! Oh, please…”
“Kate.” His voice was tight. He sounded almost as desperate as she felt. “Yes. Now.”
He put her down and came over her. She felt his heavy erection touch the point that so ached for him. She almost sobbed with desire. She wanted him; she needed him inside her like she needed air to breathe.
She tilted her hips, and he slid in deep.
“Ah.” She shivered as he stretched her—and then he started to move. “Alex. Ah. Oh, Alex. Oh.”
She gripped his hips and shuddered, sensation washing through her. And then a heartbeat later, he stilled and she felt the warm flood of his seed.
They stayed that way for minutes—he, heavy on her; she, hugging him tightly. They were joined by his body, but also by the peace of completion. The loneliness of all the years of her marriage—and the year of her widowhood—was gone.
“Mmm,” he said, rolling to his side and taking her with him. “That was nice.”
“It was beyond nice. It was marvelous. You were marvelous.”
He smiled. “Pretty good for an old man, eh?”
“Not so old.” She ran her hand over his hip. They were still joined. “And soon to be a
father.”
“Yes. A husband and a father.”
“Did I actually say I would marry you, sir?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not certain these lips”—he kissed her briefly—“said yes, but these”—he flexed his hips. He was growing inside her already—“definitely did.” He drew a lazy circle around the tip of her breast with his finger, skirting her nipple. “Are you inclined to dispute it, madam?”
“N-no.” Her nipple was again a small, hard bud. If only he would touch her there…
“Now that I think about it, I believe I’d best keep you in this bed until I have your complete and utter agreement.” His hand moved to slide down her back and massage her bottom. “I imagine this old brain can come up with a number of persuasive arguments. What do you think?”
“I think I am very eager”—she rolled her hips and was delighted to see Alex’s gaze sharpen—“to be persuaded.”
“Fetch Lady Grace immediately, man. Tell her her father is waiting.”
Oh, no. Grace stopped in the hall, a hollow feeling suddenly opening in her stomach. Not Papa! What was he doing here? He was bellowing loud enough to wake the entire house party. She hurried down the stairs to intercept Lord Motton’s butler. “It’s all right, Mr. Wilks. I’ll deal with Lord Standen.”
“Grace,” Papa said, “pack your things. You are leaving.”
“Hallo, Papa. Why are you here?” How did Papa even know she was at Lord Motton’s estate? She had purposely not written to tell him.
“To bring you home, of course. Go pack your things.”
Anger warred with embarrassment in her breast. The other house party guests were beginning to gather in the entryway. “But Papa, the party isn’t over yet.”
“It is for you.” Papa’s jaw was set; his eyes had their stony expression. “We are leaving as soon as you are ready. I hope you don’t have too much frippery with you.”
Didn’t these onlookers have something better to do with their time? The Addison girls, with their mouths agape, closely resembled beached fish.
“What about Aunt Kate? I think she’s still asleep.”
Was Papa grinding his teeth?
“Let her sleep. She is not coming with us.” He snorted. “Her chaperoning duties are ended. Let us hope she is not forced to earn her keep as a duenna, since she certainly did a terrible job bear-leading you.”
How dare Papa speak of Aunt Kate so dismissively? And in any event, Grace did not want to leave now, even though things were vastly uncomfortable with Lord Dawson. She would go home and do what Papa wished, but when the party was over. Not now. She needed her last few days of freedom.
If only all the people staring at her would go off to the breakfast parlor or the garden. She’d been able to stand up to Papa back home, when she’d decided to go to London, but here…
And perhaps the trip to London had not been a good notion. Her life had been much simpler before she’d come to Town.
“How did you know we were here, Papa?”
Papa scowled. “Oxbury wrote me. The man’s an ass, but at least he had the sense to warn me my daughter was going off with a Wilton. Unlike my blasted sister.”
He said “Wilton” in the same tone he’d use for “vermin.” Anger twisted in her stomach. She wanted to shout, but shouting at her father never did any good, and it would just add to the spectacle they were presenting. The Addison twins were whispering to each other now.
Perhaps she could reason with him.
“You are not still bearing a grudge, are you, Papa? The scandal with Lady Harriet happened over thirty years ago.”
Papa’s lips drew into a tight, thin line—the corners of his mouth grew white and his nostrils flared. “And how do you know that story, miss? I’ve never told you it, I’m certain of that.”
“I—”
“What’s going on here?” Lord Dawson pushed his way past the Addisons and strode over to stand next to her. “Is this man bothering you, Grace?”
Grace closed her eyes briefly. Could the situation get any worse? David looked ready to flatten Papa—and Papa looked equally inclined to fisticuffs. That would certainly add to this raree-show—the two of them pummeling each other in Lord Motton’s entryway, though Papa would be the one getting pummeled.
She struggled to breathe. She’d almost forgotten this feeling of walls closing in, of being trapped and helpless. She hadn’t felt it since Lord Alvord’s ball—since her…friendship with Lord Dawson. Her friendship that was shortly to end.
She sighed. “No, everything is fine, Lord Dawson.” Fine? Ha! As fine as a sunny day in Hell. “This man is my father, Lord Standen. Papa, Lord Dawson.”
David’s eyebrows shot up; then he smiled slightly and extended his hand. “Ah, my apologies, Standen. I misunderstood the matter.”
Papa’s expression became even stonier. He looked down at David’s hand as if it were a rotting fish and then turned away, giving him the cut direct.
“I told you to get ready, Grace.”
David’s brows snapped down. “Now see here—”
Grace put out a hand to stop him. Even Lord Kilgorn, Lady Kilgorn, and Lady Wordham had joined the crowd. Those obnoxious Addison girls were hanging on each syllable, memorizing every mortifying aspect of the scene so they could recount it later to all and sundry.
If only she knew a magic word to make herself disappear. She should have gone up to gather her things the moment she’d seen Papa. If she had, she’d be out in his carriage by now, rolling down the drive. She’d already decided she had to go home after the house party, hadn’t she? It was not such a great tragedy to leave early.
“It’s all right.” She took a deep breath. She hated it when she sounded so breathless. She wasn’t frightened. She was embarrassed. She just did not like being the center of attention. “I’ll go—”
“Lord Standen!” Miss Smyth hurried in from the breakfast parlor, Theo perched on her shoulder. “How nice of you to stop by. Come into the red drawing room and I’ll get you a pot of tea. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you.” She frowned slightly. “Did I know you were coming?”
“Tea! Man wants ale, matey.”
Papa glared at Theo and then at Miss Smyth. “This is not a social call, madam. Thank you for your kind offer, but I will be staying only as long as it takes my daughter to pack her belongings.” He turned his glare back to Grace. His very limited patience was obviously reaching its end.
“Oh.” Miss Smyth blinked. “But the party isn’t over yet.” She looked at Grace. “Do you wish to leave now, dear?”
“No. I mean, yes.” Grace took another breath. “I mean my father’s here now. It’s convenient for me to leave.”
No! David wanted to shake Grace. What was happening to her? Where was the fiery woman who’d fought and argued with him, who’d insisted they find a way to bring Alex and Lady Oxbury together? Where was the girl who had bullied him into meeting with his grandmother? She had gone and left behind this beautiful shell, this pale, cringing shadow of his Grace.
This was clearly Standen’s doing. He’d like to throttle the bloody bastard.
“Party’s not over.” Theo cocked his head, and turned one eye to examine the earl. “Spoil-sport.”
Standen’s face turned red and his fists clenched as if he was only a hair’s breadth from grabbing Miss Smyth’s parrot and wringing its neck.
“What seems to be the difficulty, Aunt Winifred?” Lord Motton came out of his study and surveyed the assortment of people gathered in the entryway. “Hallo, Standen. You just arrive?”
“Yes. And I am just departing, as soon as my daughter gets her things.” Standen turned to Grace, his nostrils flaring. “You are keeping the horses standing, Grace.”
“But the house party isn’t over yet.” Motton smiled. “Why don’t you join us? I’m sure we can find you a room.”
Miss Smyth coughed significantly.
“Ah, so there are extra rooms, are there?” Lord Kilgorn said,
his voice rather quiet and dangerous-sounding.
Motton looked at his aunt. “Would you care to answer that question, Aunt Winifred?”
Miss Smyth smiled brightly at Lord Kilgorn. “Extra rooms, my lord?”
“Aye.”
She glanced at Lord Standen. “Well, there might be one, but only in a manner of speaking, you know.”
Lord Kilgorn raised an eyebrow. “In a manner of speaking?”
“Yes. You know how it is.”
He shook his head. “Nay, I canna say I do.”
Miss Smyth kept smiling. “Ah. Well, I suppose it is a bit complicated, what with this and that. And the other.”
“Madam.” Lord Standen bit off each word. “Do not concern yourself. I am not staying.” He almost shouted at Grace. “Get your things now.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“But—” David choked down panic. He was not going to let Grace go without a fight—he could not let her go. Yes, she’d rejected his suit yesterday, but he’d sensed regret and sorrow in her answer. She cared for him, he knew it. He just needed to overcome her scruples, whatever they might be. He’d counted on having a few more days to persuade her. She couldn’t leave now.
Standen was white with rage. David didn’t care; he wasn’t afraid of the earl. It was Grace’s look that stopped him. Her eyes held pain and entreaty. She did not want him to say more, so, much as it went against the grain, he held his peace. Grace gave him a fleeting smile and hurried upstairs.
With her departure, the gawkers dispersed. David kept a close eye on the Addison twins. It looked as if they might approach him, but thankfully, they changed their minds and headed off toward the music room. With Grace gone, he would have to be extra cautious around those two.
Hell, if Grace left, he wouldn’t stay either. He’d head back to London as quick as may be.
“Why don’t you come into my study, Standen?” Motton said. “You may as well be comfortable while you wait.”
“I’ll be comfortable standing right here.”
“Nevertheless…” Motton stepped aside to usher Standen into the study. The earl went reluctantly. As soon as the door closed behind the man, David took the stairs two at a time. He hurried down the hall and rapped on Grace’s door. He wouldn’t be so bold normally, but desperate straits called for desperate measures—and fortunately everyone was either still asleep or already downstairs. There were no gossips in evidence.
Sally MacKenzie Bundle Page 116