by Heather Boyd
“Splendid. I will see you soon then.” Satisfied, the old man shuffled away to the window, leaving Felix seething. The Duke of Rutherford truly was a menace, and there was not a damn thing to do about it. He had to stay and clear his name of whatever slur had been cast upon his reputation. He had to keep his ship and his command.
If he did not, he had nothing else to live for.
Not even the hope of Sally.
Chapter Ten
Sally paced past Ellicott and surveyed the bare chamber full of hope for the future. It was still early in the day, and on impulse she had stolen Ellicott away to Torre Cottage to put forward her proposal that they spend half a year at his estate and half a year in Essex visiting her family. She wanted him to think about her ideas while he was away on his business trip. When he returned, they could negotiate terms in earnest and he would discover for himself that she was not quite as meek and mild as she had let him believe. “This was my grandmother’s favorite room in the whole house.”
“Yes, charming,” Ellicott drawled, clearly unimpressed by a room that had no furnishings of any kind.
Time and a loving hand would bring this house back to life. If only Ellicott could see the possibilities and imagine it as a summer home by the sea for them.
She glanced out the window, and her breath caught at the spectacular view of the estate and choppy waters beyond. “We could live here a few months to half a year and be very comfortable.”
“Why on earth would I want to live in a little cottage on your grandfather’s estate when he has ample guest rooms?”
Sally bit her lip, trying not to show her frustration at Ellicott’s lack of understanding of her dream. Of what great boon her grandfather offered them by giving her this place if she wanted it. To have a place that was just for them, few servants but close enough to her family that seeing them was no great obstacle. “From here you can see the mansion and the arrival of any visitors who come. My grandmother used to say she could never be surprised when she lived here.”
Ellicott’s arm slipped around her waist, and he pulled her against him. “It is a very pretty view. But I thought we were to spend the morning getting better acquainted rather than discussing dilapidated houses and long-dead relatives of yours.”
They were without a chaperone for the moment, and it felt strange to be in his arms. Louisa had come with them but had claimed to be entranced by the garden’s wild beauty. Her sly smile hinted she would stay there for a while too, so they had some privacy to discuss her plans for them.
Ellicott dropped a kiss to her brow and slowly kissed down the side of her face. For a moment the sensation stirred her emotions, but it was a remembrance of someone else who had done exactly the same thing once upon a time.
“I wanted to talk about our living arrangements before we marry, but since time is short I must be blunt,” she whispered as Captain Hastings’s handsome face at breakfast this morning taunted her. She could not imagine why he dared to show his face. Her father rarely invited officers under his command to stay, and then only in London. He had promised Felix would never darken her door again.
By the light of day, Felix had been exactly as she remembered him. A little sterner perhaps in his expression, a little more aged and his skin tanned. His nose had been broken she suspected, and there was a small cut on his jaw which was new.
Simpleton! She should not be thinking of Felix. Not now. Not anymore. Not when her future husband’s arms were tightening about her body.
Ellicott laughed against her throat. “What is there to discuss? Summers are the busiest time at home, and now we are to marry we have no need to bend to society’s expectations. We can do whatever the hell we want and please ourselves first.”
“I want to see my family.” Her breath caught as Ellicott moved his hands up her torso so they rested just beneath her bust. “Louisa is to return to London for a second season soon, and my cousins too are of an age when they will need me. I cannot let the sole responsibility of bringing them out and chaperoning them in their first season fall on my aunt’s shoulders. My mother was very little help to me.”
“My dear, your devotion to your family is unnecessary now. They ask too much of you. You must learn to live your own life.” He frowned and his hands slid down to encircle her waist. He tightened his grip slowly until his fingers met around her middle. “If the situation is warranted, of course you can go to London any time you like. I do not intend to be a tyrant but I will need you more than they do.”
He moved his hands lower. Sally told herself that Ellicott’s possessive tone was no more serious than a fear of being separated. He cupped her bottom and squeezed each globe.
Sally tried to relax. “And I should not like to be parted from you so soon after we marry. But I am sure there will be times when you will have no time for me.”
“True, and you will be busy with your own concerns.” He groped her flesh with growing enthusiasm. “There will be our children to bring into the world and raise.”
“Yes, I hope so,” she choked out around her shock.
He spun her around and met her gaze seriously. “If that is not enough excitement, you can always take a discreet lover once I have an heir and a spare to succeed me.”
She blinked as he brought his mouth crashing down on hers.
It was a hard kiss and without gentleness. Ellicott backed her into the nearest wall and pressed his body against hers. His tongue prodded her lips and she parted them, too surprised to refuse.
He thrust his tongue into her mouth a few times, mimicking the act of lovemaking. This kiss had purpose, a definite intent to claim her body despite his suggestion she would take another man to her bed. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss, revealing a hunger she had not known he possessed. He stroked his tongue into the depths of her mouth again until she squirmed. He drew back but grasped one of her wrists to hold it against the wall. “Sweet Sally, you can stop pretending to be modest now.”
He slid one hand down her side and grasped her gown, his intent clear to lift it. Did he mean to have her here and now? Against a wall? Sally stopped him. “I am not pretending. I am modest.”
“Come now. We have avoided the topic for months, but I have known for some time that you are not as you would have others believe.” He raised a brow, challenging her to deny his accusation. Arousal heated his eyes. “I happen to like adventurous women. That is why I think you and I suit for marriage very well. What do you say we visit a bedchamber and practice at being man and wife in earnest?”
Sally was astonished he would suggest it. He had never given any hint he was less than a proper gentleman. “We should not.”
“Why not? You are not as other women are, and believe me, I do not hold that against you. In fact, I wholeheartedly approve of a lady developing a broad palate.” His brow lifted. “A woman of your beauty and intelligence attracts attention, and you have all of mine for the present.” He licked his top lip, staring at hers so hard she could not possibly misunderstand that his thoughts had turned lascivious. He leaned into her a little, and she felt the hardness of his erection pressing against her stomach. “You would make me the happiest of men if you agree.”
“Not now. Not here,” she whispered softly, overwhelmed by his proposition and his recognition of her scandalous past. “Why would you ask me to marry you if I am unlike other women?”
“The better question to ask is why would I not.” He drew back and cupped her cheek. “You know things about men and have realistic expectations. You have experienced a man’s desire before, and I like that about you. You are open-minded and not as prudish as many spinsters who failed to make a match in their first four seasons. Many things you have said and done over the past year convinced me we are of the same mind on many subjects. Pleasure does not need to be contained neatly into a marriage.” He smiled suddenly. “I am glad we had this little talk. Now we can be honest with each other and our expectations of married life.”
Her heart ba
ttered her ribs wildly. She did not agree with his assessment of her character, but she could not deny it. “What are your expectations?”
“Our marriage accomplishes two important goals—a secure future for you and an heir and spare for me at the very least. I desire you but do not expect fidelity, nor do I think you expect it from me. Marriage is a delicate trade of allowances.” Ellicott blew out a breath. “I had hoped you would seek me out so many times in the past week. I would have you now if I could sway your mind to mutual exploration.”
The blunt discussion about intimacy was something very new from Ellicott and startling. Up till now he had only ever been witty and charming. She had thought she knew everything about him, but he had hidden his rakish streak well. In addition, he had seen through her charade to the wickedness of her soul. She thought about intimacy a lot more than she could ever admit to anyone. Sally drew back from him. She needed time to process what he had said to her and decide how much to confirm. “My sister is outside at this very moment,” she reminded him, with an anxious glance at the door. What if Louisa had overheard this conversation? What if she had come into the cottage?
“I can be quiet, but are you the type to scream the house down?” He grinned when she did not immediately deny it. “How decadent of you. I once bedded a woman who screamed out in Russian. To this day I have no clue whether she was calling out for her husband or me.”
Sally blinked. “That must have been troubling.”
He laughed suddenly. “Then there was this charming little maid we had once. She made me chase her round and round the bed and then giggled through the entire event, the saucy minx.”
Sally gulped, thinking hard of ways to delay any more discussion of his former conquests. She had no desire to be compared to other women or know he had bedded a servant in the past. “What sort of example do I set if I am suspected of allowing you liberties merely a day after you ask for my hand?”
Clearly she needed time to prepare for her marriage to Ellicott. It would be a little more complicated than she had imagined.
He shrugged. “A wicked one. But I suppose you are wise to be cautious. A girl of Louisa’s nature would be shocked and never recover. But my door will be unlocked upon my return if you are able to get away from your family for a romp.”
She smiled carefully and blushed, trying not to seem as relieved as she felt that she had time apart from him. In London there had not been a chance of dalliance or such frank talk, but here at Newberry Park there would be many more opportunities to be alone with him before they wed. “We should go back. My grandfather expects me at eleven.”
Ellicott glanced at his pocket watch. “Eleven o’clock has come and gone while we were kissing. I must be going too. The horses will be restless by now. Have you ever made love in a carriage?”
“We should go.” She seized on the opportunity to end the discussion and fled the house, assuming he would follow along behind her. She gathered Louisa from the neglected gardens where she had been collecting wildflowers and hurried toward the distant mansion.
“Why are you rushing?” Louisa whispered as she struggled to securely hold her basket of scented flowers that she had picked at Torre Cottage.
“Later,” Sally promised, casting a glance over her shoulder at her grinning betrothed.
Later? What was she thinking? Try never! Louisa was an innocent, incredibly ignorant about men and desire, and she could not be confided in without humiliating them both. The only woman she could talk to about Ellicott was Lady Duckworth, and she was a very long walk away.
Sally normally enjoyed the stroll from Torre to Newberry, but at a fast walk it left her out of breath.
When they reached the curved garden walks of home and spotted her mother waiting at the drawing room door, she kissed her sister’s cheek. “I have to go. Would you please make sure Ellicott’s departure goes smoothly?”
Louisa smiled somewhat ruefully at the request and then nodded. She offered a smile toward Lord Ellicott as he drew near. “Say good morning to Grandfather for me.”
“I will.” To Ellicott she said, “Journey safely, my lord, and I will count the days till your return.”
“As will I, my dear. As will I.” His voice dropped to a seductive pitch as he leaned close to kiss her cheek. Louisa thankfully missed his intent completely and led him toward her mother.
Chapter Eleven
Sally took the most direct path that would bring her to her grandfather’s study, trampling across a bare garden bed in her haste. She paused outside the garden door a moment, stomped her feet, smoothed her gown, and checked her hair before entering without knocking as if nothing unsettling had occurred that morning.
“I am sorry I am late.” She hurried forward. “Ellicott wanted to see Torre Cottage with Louisa and me, and we lost track of time.”
What she had not expected when she took in the room was to come face-to-face with Felix Hastings. She had been trying to forget him all over again, and his presence rooted her to the spot. He unwound from his chair and stood at his full height of six feet three inches, and her heart slammed into her ribs rather painfully as he bowed.
His dark hair was just as unruly as it had been the night before, and she longed to run her fingers through the curls to tame them. His pale blue eyes widened as she stared, and his lips pressed together, reminding her of where they had last kissed her skin. Oh, how those wicked lips had corrupted her.
She tore her eyes away from him, blushing fiercely, and gave her attention to the duke. “Forgive me. I thought you wanted to see me, but if you are otherwise engaged, I can come back another time.”
“We were waiting for you. Please.” Her grandfather gestured to the writing desk placed beside his own. “You must take notes.”
She blushed and quickly took her usual place. Grandfather disliked sharing family matters with servants, and for the past five years when her aunt was engaged elsewhere, Sally acted as secretary to him. She wrote most of his correspondence and recorded his thoughts in a journal he kept. His hands, weary from walking with canes, often refused to cooperate for even the simplest of writing tasks on most days.
She noticed a fresh journal had been placed on her table, and she turned to the first page. “A record of Captain Felix Hastings’s actions at sea” had been penned on the front along with his date of birth and dates of his promotions in the service. He had advanced very quickly, she noticed. She recognized her aunt’s penmanship, so she did not doubt the accuracy of the record.
She took up a quill, checked the inkpot was plentiful before meeting her grandfather’s gaze. “I am ready.”
“Very well.” Her grandfather sat back, drink in hand despite the early hour, and pierced Felix with a direct stare that would make many men squirm. “I am told your quick thinking saved my grandson’s life and that of every man on board the Adelaide.”
Felix shrugged, crossing his long legs at the ankles, and her eyes were unwillingly drawn to the movement of his limbs. Time had only improved his physique, and warmth crept up her cheeks and heated parts of her body that should now be silent. “I did my duty, Your Grace.”
“Come now, sir. Modesty will do you no favors in this enquiry.”
“Enquiry?” Sally asked, forgetting her role as silent observer in the surprise of hearing why Felix was at Newberry. He must have done something terrible to have been dragged from his command.
She dropped her eyes to the notebook when the duke cast a stern look in her direction, cautioning silence. Her grandfather might indulge her in many matters, but he did not ever like to be interrupted.
Felix let out a long sigh. “The Adelaide was well engaged when we were close enough for guns. However, since Captain Ford would undoubtedly wish to claim the prize, I ordered my men to board after the first round rather than repeatedly fire on them and risk sinking either ship.”
“You led the boarding party, I am told.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Lieutenant Laurence Ford took command of th
e Selfridge during the encounter and did an exemplary job of it.”
“You saw my grandson fall?”
“Captain Ford did not fall,” Felix corrected. “He stood his ground despite his injury and fought until the battle was won.”
Sally sat forward, eager for news of her cousin. She had not known the Selfridge had been part of that action. “You saw what happened to William?”
Felix faced only her grandfather, but his jaw clenched at her question. “I made a full report to the admiralty and left nothing out of the telling.”
“That is not good enough,” she bit out when he did not elaborate or look at her. She would not be ignored.
He turned toward her slowly, frowning. “Injuries obtained in war are not fit to be spoken of around a lady.”
“You will tell me,” she demanded with uncharacteristic heat. He must understand their need. “You will tell me so his sisters and cousins can know what has happened to him.”
His brow creased and he glanced toward the duke as if puzzled. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but surely Admiral Templeton has relayed the relevant particulars to the family.”
“Somewhat,” Rutherford murmured. “However, a firsthand account is better than a fifth person’s retelling. Do explain in detail for my granddaughter’s edification before she uses that quill to cause you bodily harm.”
Sally blushed and quickly set aside the implement she had been writing with. She should not have lost her temper, but Felix provoked her.
Felix sat up a little straighter. “You will need to read Captain Ford’s report for the battle’s beginnings. We were some distance away when the guns rang out and made haste to join the fray. As I said, it was my decision to not risk sinking either ship but to engage hand to hand and support the Adelaide’s crew. We split our boarding party between fore and aft, crossed the French vessel without encountering much resistance. I engaged those at the stern of the Adelaide and fought forward. By that time Captain Ford was heavily pressed and against the main mast.” He paused a moment too long and Sally feared he would stop. “He was struck by a saber across the face. I immediately feared it a mortal injury and doubled my efforts to reach him. It caught his mouth and split his skin from the corner almost to his ear. I had never seen anyone survive such a wound, but he fought on regardless. In pain and bleeding.”