The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 4 (The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Sets)

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  She got out of the bed, put on her dressing gown, and crept up behind him. She hugged herself to him, her breasts pressing against his shoulder where she had tugged his lapel back and down, baring his warm flesh. Her hair shimmered over his bare skin sensually, and he groaned.

  "Darling, five more minutes, please. I’m not as young as I used to be," he said with a light laugh.

  "Silly man. You know what I’m going to say."

  She kissed him, and they could hear each other clearly.

  I love you.

  "It was the other thing you wished for, when we were first married."

  "Hm, even before we went to the ruined monastery and saw the labyrinth?"

  "Looks like it."

  "So we carry the magic within us then?"

  "I think so."

  He opened the drawer and gave her the watercolour he had at last completed for her as a gift. She stared at the stone, its labyrinthine swirls mysterious, ever-changing. Like life.... Every path unpredictable, but with Randall by her side, she would never lose her way.

  "It is lovely. Look how well you’ve captured the glade."

  "Call me sentimental, but that place will always be magical for me, for it was there I knew what true love really means. And speaking of carrying within..." He put his hand on her stomach, and kissed it gently.

  "I think you’re right. It was then, or the night of the charity drive."

  "The ruins, for sure. You're so rounded already, I can’t imagine you having so many more months to go. You’re so voluptuous, like a fertility goddess."

  "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all. I knew you were lovely, but now you’re radiant."

  "You make me radiant."

  "I had noticed," he said dryly.

  She giggled, caressing his cheek with her own. "I don’t just mean that way. As you say, it’s important, but not as important as the way you make me feel. As if I'm the centre of your whole world, a treasure to be cherished."

  "And so you are." His hands started to do the most alluring things to her.

  "You don’t have to all the time, you know. A cuddle is good too."

  "Totally voluntary, and pure pleasure, believe me. Hearing your little sobs of breath and moans when I do this is more thrilling than you can imagine."

  She sobbed, and he grinned in triumph and parted his robe. "You see?"

  She stared at his all too roused flesh. "I thought your stallion had galloped his last."

  "Nothing like more oats to revive him," Randall laughed.

  "But that was how he got tired in the first place," she said with a long lusty look.

  "Never tired, just getting a second wind for another charge." He lifted her eagerly onto the desk and spread her legs wide. He revelled in her moistness as she enveloped him. "Nothing like settling into the saddle for a brisk canter."

  "I always knew you had the best stables in the country, but this is better than anything I could have hoped for."

  "You know I play to win. So let’s go for the gold cup, darling."

  "Ride on, Randall, ride on."

  Chapter Twenty-four

  All Hallow’s Eve dawned bright and sunny, a perfect crisp autumn day with just enough chill in the air to herald the coming of winter. Isolde nuzzled Randall awake early, leaving plenty of time for his usual extravagant displays of love.

  He was particularly tender this morning, driving her to peak after exquisite peak of delight, both in the bed, in the tub, and even in the chair as she sat in front of the mirror and tried to perform her toilette. He hooked her legs wide over both arms of the chair and suckled and fondled her until she was a quivering mass of desire.

  Each time she soared, he took her ever higher, his clever fingers massaging her inwardly and outwardly in the most compelling way.

  "Mm, it just keeps getting better."

  "It certainly does," he agreed as he pressed into her at last, kneeling in front of the chair, his throbbing manhood huge and urgent with need. Their climax, when it came, was perfectly timed and almost paralysing in its intensity.

  At last they cleaned themselves off and began to get dressed without one sparking the other one off again. But Isolde soon began to grow suspicious.

  "I know your game. Brush my hair like that and I shall give you anything you heart desires. Well, so I will." She turned to kiss him. "Do you really not want to go on the excursion today? I mean, it looks lovely out there, and the children have been so looking forward to it."

  "I know. I just, well, can’t get enough of you."

  "I had noticed. I’m glad. I got my wish too. No more boundaries." She put her hand on his chest. "I can feel your love, always. There’s nothing hidden any longer."

  "I have to say that sometimes I wonder if you’re telling me everything," he admitted with a long look at her.

  "All I'm able to," she said with a sigh.

  He shrugged. "I never did believe in the second sight, so I suppose it doesn’t make a difference."

  She heaved a sigh of relief. "It does if you’re unhappy." If he asked her directly about her visions of Michael, she was not going to lie.

  "All right, there’s no hiding it," he said with a rueful grin, pointing to the huge bulge in his trousers. "I would much rather have the whole day in bed with you."

  She giggled. "Everyone will be here soon. I would love it too, but tomorrow, all right? So the children don’t feel let down."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  He pulled her into his arms, sliding his hot open mouth over her cheek until his found her lips, causing her to shiver and press her bare body to his as their fingers worked loose each other’s clothes once more.

  "Oh, Randall, I love you so."

  "I know. I feel its glow every day, and thank all the gods of the universe for having give me you."

  "And I you. Heaven only knows what would have happened if I hadn’t met you that night."

  "Never mind that now. Too gloomy a thought," he said, hoisting her skirts right up to her waist and pressing her onto the bed.

  Randall made love to her so tenderly that she wept with the joy of it all. Somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that however long they spent together, however happy they were, he could never show her enough how much he loved her. But he surely would keep on trying.

  After the wondrous night and morning she had shared with Randall, Isolde felt joyous, as if she could take on the whole world and win.

  They staggered out of the bed, adjusted their clothes hastily, and thanked their lucky stars that Hopkins and the servants were so efficient and had got everything prepared, including all eight children clad in warm woollens and their little cloaks and mufflers.

  With hugs and kisses all around, they got the excited children into the carriage. Signalling to the Duke’s coach to head forward, they got underway. They played games and sang in the coach, read aloud and dandled and cuddled each child in turn.

  Isolde was once again impressed with how naturally Randall had taken to fatherhood despite the fact that it had been so suddenly thrust upon him. She could only imagine what he would be like with their infant.

  "Hopelessly terrified," he replied, though she hadn’t opened her mouth. "I’ve changed Adeline’s napkins, and was sure I had stabbed her to death with a pin."

  "At least you’ve tried."

  "And will continue to try. Practice makes perfect, and all that."

  Three hours brought them to the top of Cheddar Gorge, an impressive natural formation carved out centuries before by some sort of cataclysmic geological upheaval.

  They set up their base of operations at the northern end of the gorge, spreading out mountains of food and games to keep both the adults and children amused. Croquet, archery, egg and spoon races, Randall and Isolde participated in them all.

  She had a wonderful time, and her only regret was that Michael and his wife had not elected to join them for the day after all. She sighed. She would tell him soon, but for the moment
she didn’t want to see the happy smile vanish from his face in an instant, as she was sure it would when she broke the news to him that his own brother had not wanted to come home for fear of hurting him.

  At one point she snuggled up to his side and said, "Thank you for joining in so enthusiastically. It means a lot to the children."

  "You don’t have to thank me."

  "I do. You’ve been the best husband and father I could ever have imagined. And I know you wanted to stay in bed all day."

  "Well, you needed a change of scenery. I wouldn’t want you to get tired of me."

  "That will never happen, I swear."

  He kissed her hard. I know. Nor for me.

  "Come on, the pair of you, stop canoodling and eat something," Thomas shouted.

  They laughed happily and broke apart to go join their friends by the picnic baskets.

  The afternoon passed pleasantly enough, until the sun began to descend into the west. As the sun’s rays died, black clouds rolled in, and the Rakehells began to gather up all the rugs and supplies and load the coach.

  Lightning streaked the glowering sky, and for a moment Isolde could have sworn she saw the reflection of black on black she had seen once before. Howell. She shivered with dread, but told herself not to be absurd. He was at Newgate awaiting trial.

  Of course, that was not to say that one of his other associates might not be lurking. He had had help trying to kill Randall in the stables, after all.

  She looked around her for all the children while her husband vanished up the hill with another pile of supplies. Her heart sank as she tried to catch sight of Adeline.

  "Where is she?" she demanded of James.

  "She was still trying to play hide and seek with us. I think she must have headed back down the path."

  She bit her lip, wondering if she should wait until her husband or one of the other Rakehells returned. Another huge rumble of approaching thunder decided her.

  "Edward, take Sarah up that way and look for her. Don’t you dare stray from the path, though. Go down the other end, shout for her, and come back. James, come with me. The rest of you, hold hands and go find your Pa or one of the other men."

  A flash of lightning streaked the sky, causing Isolde start. "Come, James, Hurry. Adeline! Adeline!"

  "I’m sorry. I should never have let go of her hand," he said tearfully.

  "It’s not your fault. She’s a lively little girl. It is I that should have paid more attention," she said as they hurried to the edge of the gorge.

  "But you told me to keep an eye on her. She’s my sister. I should have looked out for her better."

  She looked down at his earnest little face with relief. "Sister?" she echoed softly.

  "Yes. All my sisters and brothers. Every one of them. I’m sorry I was such a stuck up little prig before, Mother."

  She hugged him to her hard. "You were a bit, but I don’t blame you for being confused. A new family, new parents, it must all have been very strange. It’s all right to remember your real Ma and Pa, you know. Just so long as you are also always sure that Randall and I love you as much as they did."

  "More. We belonged to them. She was our Ma, but she didn’t really want us. You didn’t have to take us, but you did. So you’re more of our Ma than she ever was," James said with a sniff.

  "Don’t say that. When your Pa died, I can only guess how your Ma felt. Lost without him. As I would be without your Daddy."

  "Like he would be without you, you mean," the young man said with a knowing look. "He loves us, but he adores you. One look at his face when you come into the room to see us and he glows like the sun."

  She laughed and hurried them along the path. "He won’t be so glowing if we don’t find your sister." The rain began to tumble out of the sky now as they hurried along. "And not so happy if you and I are both soaked to the skin."

  She looked around and caught sight of a little pink dress hopping from stone to stone. The high-spirited little girl had evidently got tired of holding still waiting for someone to find her.

  "Adeline! We’re here. Come to Mummy at once, pet!"

  Adeline looked up, her blond hair darkening as the rain came down. She laughed and waved, and ran towards them. James scampered forward to greet her, but Isolde’s way was blocked by a huge dark figure that darted out of the straggling hedgerow.

  At first she was sure it was one of the Rakehells come to search for Adeline, but the hard grey eyes and perpetual sneer were not so welcome. And certainly not friendly and helpful.

  "Got you alone at last, you bitch."

  Howell grabbed Isolde by the neck and began to drag her away from the children and up the path that led to the southern end of the gorge.

  The pressure on Isolde’s throat was enough to cut off any chance of crying out for help, and though she struggled, Chauncey’s fury had given him superhuman strength.

  She tried to tell herself Howell was not going to kill her; he had far too much to lose. Keeping her alive, he could get money from Randall, get his revenge by doing whatever he wished to her, including rape her.

  He would try to kidnap her, to make sure she never saw Randall again. Even if she did, Howell would always be a threat if he were at large. They would never be safe as long as he was alive. He had to be stopped, here and now, no matter what he did to her…

  She struggled furiously, trying to dig her heels in grasp at the shrubbery, anything to halt his flight.

  He must have realized he was not going to get anywhere fast in the roaring wind tugging at them both if he had to keep hauling her along. He decided to release her neck and take her along by the wrist, ramming a pistol against her temple. "Stop struggling, now."

  "You can’t think for a minute I’m going to go willingly. I hate you."

  "My carriage is waiting just at the top of the lane. A few more steps and then it’s off to the new life I promised you so many months ago before you tumbled into that bastard’s bed like the whore you are."

  "You’re never going to get away with this, so just let me go. We’ll give you money. You can go away to America, Australia, anywhere you like. We'll give you a good allowance, if only you'll stay away from me and our family," she offered, though the words nearly choked her.

  "There is nothing you could offer me that would stop me from having you over and over again until you beg for mercy. From knowing that Randall knows I have you, am having you, and is powerless to stop me. And to have him wonder if you ever really cared for him, or if you loved me all along."

  "He’ll never wonder that. I hate you. I’ve only ever loved him. Will love him forever."

  As they moved south rapidly, the path skirted closer and closer to the edge of the gorge. She wondered if he were suicidal, but she doubted it. More likely if she struggled he would just shove her over, strip away the only things Randall cared about. Her and the baby.

  Despite the gun to her head, she struggled even harder to free herself from his grip. "They will hunt you down for this. Everyone knows I married Randall because I loved him in preference to you. All of them will know you’ve taken me by force. I’ll fight, you, be covered in bruises. No one will ever think I threw Randall over for the likes of you."

  "Lots of whores like it rough. Besides, a man like Randall never changes his spots. He would have tired of you soon anyway. I’ve known him for years. Know everything there is to know about him. Do you?" he sneered.

  Isolde knew he was trying to divide and conquer, plant the seeds of doubt in her mind so that she would be willing to go with him quietly. She also knew that she if she delayed Howell long enough, someone would come for her. Randall, the Rakehells, her brother. But she quailed in fear. Howell had a weapon. Even if he didn’t throw her down the gorge, he could shoot her in a second.

  "There are no secrets between us."

  "Even about Clarissa?" he laughed mockingly.

  "Everything."

  His voice took on a terrible dreamy quality, as if recalling something ch
erished. "I saw them, you know. Up in the loft. I watched Francis tupping her like a ram, her loving every minute of it. She’d sworn there was nothing between them. Or her and Randall. That she was mine, all mine.

  "Then I saw Randall come in. He spotted them together. I waited for him to do something, kill Francis, beat him or something. The little bugger never even had the guts.