Relief washed through her. She’d drop to her knees in thanks, if prayer sped their way. Tonight she’d sleep in a bed and tomorrow she’d eat. Then, she would return to her life and everything would go back to normal.
Within the week, she’d be betrothed to Lord Higgins and not long after, she’d be married. The thought, however, constricted her throat. She couldn’t understand her reaction. She wanted to go back home, and she did want to marry.
Her eyes strayed to Ian. She wasn’t quite ready to give him up. What would become of him, afterward? Would he ever think on their adventure? Would he ever think of her?
Ian rummaged around the small hunting cabin he’d played in many times as a kid. Considering how little light remained, they had decided to rest here for the night and make their way to Lord Starsen’s estate in the morning.
He’d known crossing his godmother’s land had been a possibility, but he still couldn’t believe their luck. They would make it to London, and he was sure Lady Starsen would be willing to help keep Claire’s reputation from being damaged.
Hearing a splash in the river, Ian steeled himself against the mental picture of Claire bathing. She’d insisted on doing so and washing out her ruined clothing before making their way to the manor at first light. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her she’d be in no better state by the time they reached Avange Manor, considering the journey that still remained ahead of them.
He sucked in a deep breath. Tomorrow this adventure would be over. The thought came bittersweet. On one hand, he welcomed the idea of being back home, but on the other, he wasn’t ready to let go of Claire.
The look on her face and terror in her eyes when he’d offered himself as a choice to marry wasn’t something he could easily forget. She’d enjoyed his kiss, but wanted nothing to do with him beyond that. At this point, he wasn’t sure what to do to make her see him differently. He certainly couldn’t kiss her into submission. Especially not, considering she’d rejected him when he’d tried a second time.
“Ian,” she called.
He turned toward her, and instantly regretted it. Claire stood there, her wet, wavy hair covering her shoulders as she clutched a rough towel over herself. Unable to stop the compulsion, his eyes drifted down her form to her bare legs. His body tightened as his mouth dried. She was gorgeous.
She cleared her throat. “Did you find something for me to wear?”
He nodded, although he really wished he could tell her what she had on now was fine. However, he hadn’t found his tongue, and she looked at him expectantly, a shy smile tugging at her lips.
“Can you give it to me?” Amusement colored her tone and allowed him to take better control of himself.
Keeping his eyes off of Claire, he collected the shirts and trousers he had found, handed a pair to her, then left with another set for himself. The image of the towel slipping down her body taunted him all the way to the river.
When he jumped into the cold water, he couldn’t help but appreciate the calming effect on his overheated body. Perhaps not continuing on toward the manor today had been an unwise decision. Sleeping next to Claire in the forest had been a completely different experience than it would be in a bed. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he was equipped to handle keeping his hands to himself.
After a long bath, Ian dressed, then slowly made his way toward the cabin. Darkness began to settle in, and he hoped to set out early in the morning.
Being mindful of Claire’s state of dress, or undress, he knocked and waited for her to grant him entry before opening the door. As he cautiously peeked inside, he was relieved to see the towel hanging out to dry.
Moving his eyes to the center of the room, he gulped. Claire stood there looking just as tempting as she did in the towel. The white muslin shirt did little to hide the creamy skin beneath. It hugged her breasts in an intimate way that made him jealous of the thin fabric, and allowed the darkness of her nipples to show through. Dragging his gaze further, he nearly died. The shirt hung to her knees and her bare legs stuck out from beneath. What happened to the trousers?
“Do I look so terrible?” She ran a hand through her loose, wavy locks.
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “You look amazing.”
She smiled as her gaze dropped to the floor. “The trousers didn’t fit. They kept falling off.”
Silently he praised the trousers. After all, legs that perfect shouldn’t be hidden away. “That’s fine.”
“Ian, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“For what?” His gaze shot to hers, and he was surprised to see her biting her lip as she’d done since she was a child. However, he couldn’t understand what reason she’d have to be nervous.
“For saving us. Honestly, I didn’t really believe we would make it. If it weren’t for your uncanny ability to make your way through the forest, we’d still be out there.”
He hadn’t done anything any other man wouldn’t have. He smiled. It still felt good to see the hero worship in her eyes. Also, concentrating on her face helped him take his mind off her glorious body.
“We got lucky.” He shrugged. “I can’t take credit for that.”
The worship hadn’t left her face. “Waltz with me.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes. I’m accepting your earlier offer. Come dance with me.”
He wanted to agree. To hold her in his arms as they gently swayed to music only they could hear, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be enough. He burned too much for her already to add to his torment.
She glanced down at the floor, as if unable to look him in the face. “Please, Ian. It’s the least I can do after what you have done for me. I shouldn’t have denied you a dance earlier, so I am correcting my blunder.”
“I can’t.” The strain in his voice was noticeable even to him.
“Sure you can.” She sauntered toward him. “I can lead you.”
When she lifted her arms the shirt exposed more of her thighs. He couldn’t handle it. Nor could he deny himself the pleasure of having his arms around her.
Determined to keep this as formal as possible, he kept a significant distance between them and put his hand around her, high on her back. While gritting his teeth against the sensation of her warm body separated only by the thin material of the shirt, he began the waltz.
After a few swift revolutions around the room, he dropped his hands and took a step back. He couldn’t take the torture a moment longer as Claire seemed unaware of her effect on him.
She frowned. “You were wrong. Lord Higgins’s skill far exceeds yours.”
Unable to accept her challenge, he nodded. “It is settled then. As I have never danced with the man, I’ll have to defer to your judgment.”
When she put her hands on her hips, the fabric stretched tighter against her breasts, and he had to clench his fists to stop from attacking her.
“Or, maybe you’re afraid of me? I’ve watched you dance with far too many women to accept that our dance was the best you can do.”
“Claire, I—”
“Don’t. This is our last night together, and I want to have something, no matter how small, to remember it.”
Her pleading worked, for he couldn’t deny her anything. Surely he could afford one dance. A small sacrifice on his part for her pleasure. One genuine Waltz. Pulling her back against him, he began the sensual movements of the dance. Their bodies touched, rubbed, and teased until Ian was ready to rip the shirt off her lithe body.
By the time he ended the dance, Claire’s color was bright, her lips parted, and lust shown from her eyes. The sight stole his voice. He pulled her to him and claimed her mouth. She didn’t resist, simply threw her arms around his neck and met him with a shared fervor.
His long denied feelings for her resurfaced as he ran his hands down her
back. Her near-naked state only served to enflame him more. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. Her body taunted him as her hands fisted his shirt.
When his fingers found the underside of her breasts, she shuddered. Encouraged that she didn’t withdraw from him, he caressed upward until he reached the peak. She moaned and dropped her head back, allowing him access to her neck.
Desire swam through his body as he moved his mouth across her throat and continued down to his goal. Anticipation built to an uncomfortable level as he pulled on the neckline of the too long shirt to expose her shoulder.
Never in his life had he wanted anyone so desperately. With one more tug her glorious breasts popped free, and he nearly rejoiced. Her body froze, but he couldn’t allow her to stop him. Not now. Not when he was this close.
Closing his hand over her bare breast, he sagged in relief when he felt her hands gripping him tighter. She wanted more, and he would give it to her. Moving his mouth back on course, he reached his destination and sucked her pert nipple into his mouth.
Claire moaned as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Instead of pulling away, she held him there. The soft noises coming from her mouth drove him crazy. Soon, he would reach the extent of his control.
When she pulled his head back, guilt swamped him. He was taking advantage of her. His rapid breathing only increased while looking into her passion-filled face. The sight was one of the most beautiful he’d witnessed.
“I’m sorry. I—”
His words cut off when she bent forward and grabbed the hem of her shirt. He stood, mesmerized as she slowly drew it up, revealing herself inch by torturous inch.
“What are you doing?” he choked out.
She stopped her movements, on the verge of exposing her womanhood. Ian thought he would burst. The desire to continue overwhelmed him. But, she couldn’t know what she was doing. Couldn’t understand the consequences.
“I hadn’t planned this, but now I know what to do.”
At her words, he closed his eyes. What had he done so wrong in his life to be forced to undergo such torture? He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think.
“I am giving you my innocence.”
His resolve snapped. He grabbed her to him and crushed his lips against hers. Desperate for her, to take what he’d wanted for years, he backed her up until they fell against the straw mattress.
The feel of her beneath him took his breath away. For too long he’d wanted this. Wanted her. He couldn’t wait any longer.
Sliding his hand down her body, he pulled the end of her shirt up until he found the place he sought. As he pushed his finger inside her warmth, she thrashed her head on the pillow. His eyes devoured her every movement, committing it to memory.
He mimicked the motion he would soon begin with his body until she began to writhe beneath him. Watching the pleasure on her face was too much. He needed to be inside her.
Drawing back, he freed himself and took his position at her entrance. As he looked into her beloved face, he pushed the tip inside her. However, the trust he saw shining from her eyes stopped him.
This was Claire. Sweet, trusting Claire who didn’t want to be forced into marriage. And, he was ruining her. How could he live with himself if she chose not to marry him after this?
Gritting his teeth, he withdrew and refastened his trousers. He couldn’t do this.
“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, trying to sit up.
“Nothing,” he lied, then lay back on top of her, taking her mouth as his fingers found her once again. He continued his onslaught until her body stiffened beneath him. Drawing back, he witnessed ecstasy and wonderment play across her face.
His chest swelled knowing he’d brought her pleasure. He never wanted this time with her to end. Raining kisses along her neck, he savored the moment. As she squirmed against him, he realized he was crushing her, so he rolled away. However, not wanting to lose the contact, he tucked her to him, trying not to think about the uncomfortable state of his body. This night was about Claire. Not him.
He lay there awake long after her breathing softened to an even rhythm. Unable to resist, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. She was so beautiful, his heart ached simply looking at her. Somehow, he had to right this wrong done to her.
An idea hit him, and he smiled.
Chapter 4
Claire groaned as the sun streamed in and touched her face. She didn’t want to wake just yet. Last night, she’d slept better than she had in a long time. Her dreams had been pleasant, and she didn’t want to lose them so soon.
Rolling over in the bed, memories from the previous night assaulted her, and her cheeks heated. Her unplanned seduction had been wanton, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. After all, she’d been ruined from the second the carriage didn’t return with the entourage. Now, at least, the accusations would be true.
Anxious to see Ian’s reaction to her today, but feeling shy, she opened one eye. The bed was empty. Pulling herself up, she surveyed the small cabin. She didn’t see him anywhere.
“Ian,” she called.
He didn’t answer.
She climbed out of bed and peeked outside. He wasn’t anywhere within sight, either. A sick feeling began in the pit of her stomach. Just like the rake she knew him to be, he’d bedded her, then left.
Unable to accept that, she pulled on her borrowed trousers, grabbed them tight around her waist, and ran outside. Collecting her now dry dress and undergarments, she reentered the cabin. As she dressed, there was a knock at the door.
Although not sure why Ian felt the need to knock after what they’d shared last night, a sigh of relief shook her body. Quickly crossing the space, she threw open the door.
Shock held her silent as she took in the elegant lady before her.
“Do you intend to invite me in?” The lady raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Claire shuffled to the side on legs that seemed to be made of wood. “Please, come in.”
The woman glanced around the room, her eyes stopping on the still unmade bed. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled. Claire had no idea what to make of her.
“I suppose you are wondering what is going on.” At Claire’s nod, she continued. “Lord Knightly paid me a very early visit this morning. He explained your situation and requested my assistance.”
As the truth sunk in, Claire would have kissed Ian had he been present. If they could manage to arrive in London separately, her reputation would be saved.
“Thank you, Lady . . .”
“Yes, how remiss of me, Miss Ashford, I’m Lady Starsen. Lord Knightly is my godson. I’ve known him since he was just a baby, so I’m quite happy to assist you both out of this compromising situation.”
Claire dropped into a curtsey. “I’m honored to meet you. And, I thank you for your assistance.”
“Don’t thank me, yet. Although my godson has a good plan, we have quite a bit of work to do in order for everything to come together.”
“Please, tell me what you’d like me to do.”
Lady Starsen opened the door and waved. A servant placed a large tub in the middle of the room and a fire was quickly set to boil water. Claire could smell the soap, and the idea of a real bath had her letting out a contented sigh.
“After we get you fixed up, you and I will travel to Avange Manor. I’ve told everyone I was to collect you from the inn for a visit. Stewart, here, will keep our secret.”
“That sounds wonderful. Can you tell me when Ian . . . when Lord Knightly will be returning?”
“He rode into London this morning. I believe he intends to inform your family of the new situation so that your story can be spread. He should be joining us at the manor sometime today.”
Claire smiled. “You truly have thought of ev
erything.”
“Much as I’d like to take the credit, it was my godson who formed this plan, not I.”
As Claire bathed, dressed, then suffered through Lady Starsen’s not so gentle hairstyling, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ian. He’d taken special care to ensure her reputation remained intact. Although she didn’t want it, the love she’d had for him all those years ago resurfaced.
Once in the carriage, Claire felt a wave of anxiety. What if they were set upon by highwaymen, again? Glancing out the window, she wondered if she would be able to see them coming.
“Relax, my dear. This is Starsen land and Stewart is quite capable of taking care of us.”
“Thank you, my lady. This ordeal has been overwhelming.”
“I can only imagine.” They sat in silence for a while. “So, your brother is Gordon Ashford, is he not?”
Claire nodded. “Yes.”
“My son, Marcus, has spoken of him often, although I have never met him. The two of them, along with Ian, were close at one time.”
“As far as I know, nothing has changed in that respect. Of course, the length of time between visits has increased as have their duties.” Claire adjusted the hem of her petticoat, astonished at how quickly she’d become used to not wearing one.
Lady Starsen bowed her head in acknowledgement. “Of course. I owe your brother a debt of gratitude. Did you know he saved my son in that fire? Ian, too?”
“Yes.” Claire looked out the window. Gordon wore gloves, constantly, to hide the damage from lifting the burning timber off his friends. Although he’d worn riding gloves at the time, it hadn’t offered enough protection. However, he’d never regretted his actions. She looked up to her brother in many ways.
Embracing the Knight Page 5