She patted her stomach. She had news to share and she could not wait to see the look on Stephen’s face.
She handed Thomas to his nurse to be put down for his nap and walked downstairs to join her devastatingly handsome husband in the garden. She stood at the edge of the grass watching him throw a stick for Brandy. She thought he had not noticed her.
“Pen,” Stephen said in a voice that was equal parts warning and humor. “If you keep looking at me like that I shall shock the gardeners by taking you against that tree you are standing under.”
Was that meant to make her behave? “I am just admiring my taste in men. It’s not my fault you make any woman think of being ravished.”
His cheekbones tinged with red.
She laughed. “You’re blushing. A man with your reputation shouldn’t know how to blush. What happened to the man who loved to watch others make love? Has he turned prudish?”
He strolled toward her with that wicked grin on his handsome-as-sin face, and scooped her up in his arms. She squealed in delight. “The only woman I ever want to see in the throes of passion is you, and by Christ, only with me.”
“Put me down, you fool. I bet your mother is in the house watching from somewhere.”
“I don’t care. I’m taking my woman to a place where I can ravish her with no prying eyes.” Yet he was carrying her away from the house.
Her body began to hum in anticipation. He was carrying her to their private lake on Stephen’s estate. They would make love in the bright afternoon sun and then swim in the cool waters. She loved the lake almost as much as she loved the view from the terrace of Hadleigh Park.
She missed Hadleigh Park, but they spent most Christmases there. She’d learned that a house was just a house unless those you loved were in it. Her home was where Stephen and their children were.
They reached the lake and the small little summerhouse Stephen had built for her. Without putting her down, he entered and gathered the fur throws and passed them to her to hold, and then walked to their favorite spot near the water’s edge. The willows surrounding them blocked any view from a passerby on the path above.
He laid her on her stomach and began to undo the tiny fastenings that ran down the back of her gown. After a lot of fumbling and cursing she heard a tear. Finally, her gown was off and she could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin.
She laughed and rolled over onto her back. His burning gaze sent heat pooling between her thighs, but she stilled his hurrying hands. “You taught me many things, you wonderful man, especially how enjoyable it is to watch. I want to watch you undress for a change. Slowly.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “And you know how much you love to arouse me.”
His gaze heated further, the smoldering desire igniting, and he began to remove his clothes. He’d never been bashful about how magnificent his body was, and he took his time letting her look her fill.
She lay back in her shift and stockings and devoured him with hungry eyes. When he stood naked above her, his wide shoulders blocking the sun, she rose onto her hands and knees and pressed kisses all over his stomach. Then she pulled herself up, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him full on the mouth.
When she’d finished devouring his mouth, she pulled back and said, “I am the luckiest woman in the world to have found you.” She felt his manhood pulse against her stomach, and he gave a growl. “I would gladly go through all I have been through again if it meant I got to marry you.” Her hand slid down to stroke him and his breath hissed from between his clenched teeth. “You own my heart, body, and soul.” She ran her nose over his skin, reveling in his masculine scent.
He picked her up and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, his erection stroking the wet core of her. “You are my life’s blood, Pen. Don’t ever leave me.” And he entered her in one hard thrust, his hands cupping her bottom.
She loved making love with him. “Faster,” she panted.
“No. I want this to last forever.” She groaned as he controlled the pace while she clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his back. His hands on her bottom lifting her up and down upon him however he pleased. He was going to drive her insane.
His features hardened into a mask of passion. The cords of his neck tightened as soon the fire began to burn in his blood too.
“Christ. Stephen. Oh, God, please…more, faster.”
“Not yet. You must wait. Wait for me. Open your eyes. Look at me. I want to come with you, to look into your eyes and see the love…”
She could not deny him his wish. His fear of one day never being able to see her passion was always with him. She opened her eyes and as always the devotion she saw mirrored there filled her heart to overflowing. “I love you,” she cried as holding his gaze, he took them both to heaven. He stumbled to his knees as his climax hit and they tumbled to the soft grass, their cries of release in perfect harmony.
* * *
—
Stephen was a man blessed to have such a woman as his wife. He would never have believed he could be this lucky—or this happy. “I love you, sweeting.”
She sighed in his arms, content to cuddle into his side.
“Now,” he said, “it’s my turn to see”—he flipped her over and stripped her of her shift—“feel”—he commenced a leisurely exploration of her body with his hands—“and taste.” His tongue probed the soft contours of her mouth. He was willing to spend all day savoring her like fine cuisine.
She broke off their kiss. “Let me catch my breath. Besides…” She giggled as she pulled him by his hair before he could let his wicked tongue loose between her thighs. “I have something I wish to share with you.”
He spread her thighs with his knees, and her hips tilted in unmistakable invitation. “Loving first, talking later.”
On the word “first,” he sank into her welcoming heat, determined to show her everything he held in his heart for her and his son. She had been right. He deserved a family too. He owed her so much. Her love literally saved him.
To this day he could not understand why his father had killed himself, but then Stephen had still not gone blind. However, he knew even blind, he would crave this woman whose body he was making love to. He had made her a promise and he would never dishonor her or any children they might have by leaving them.
Like a true partner, her body automatically moved with him, her need building with his. She wrapped her legs around his hips and let him drive deeper into her. God, he could stay buried this deep forever. Their bodies strove in unison. Locked, heated, and slick.
As the flames of desire grew, so did her cries.
“You are my everything,” he whispered, and with one final stroke they both tumbled into mind-numbing delight, and incandescent sensations of pleasure.
When at last they lay spent in each other’s arms, and Stephen felt the last of Penelope’s spasms fade and noted her breathing had slowed, happiness flooded him.
He took her tiny hand in his. “Now, tell me this news. It must be important if you would prefer talking to loving me.”
She rolled onto her side, facing him. She ran her little finger over his chest. “Would you like another son or a daughter?”
He almost choked, his body was full of such joy. “You are with child?”
A slow smile curved her lips as she nodded. “If I’m not careful you’ll have me big and fat with your child every year of my life.”
“I don’t care as long as you and the child are healthy and safe.” With a hoot of joy he pulled her to him and kissed her possessively. “I love you big and fat with my child.”
“You are not displeased? I know that you worry about whether they will be afflicted.” She rubbed a hand protectively over her belly. “I don’t wish to make you worry. If you decide, after this child is born, that is enough children, th
en we can look at ways to stop me conceiving. That horrible French letter thing that you once showed me.”
He saw the look of hope in her eyes. She loved children and she wanted a large happy family to make up for her strict and loveless childhood, and years spent in her abusive first marriage. She never wanted to be alone and unloved again. And he would ensure she wasn’t.
“I want as many children as God decides we may have.” He was silent for a moment, watching her. “I was wrong to think I did not want a family with a woman I love. I’m pretty sure if I had not let you into my heart I would have found it easy to kill myself if I went blind and that would have been a mistake.” He pulled her into his arms and placed his hands on her stomach. “I would of course be upset if I lost my sight but it would not be the end of the world. I would still have you and my children. I would still have what’s most important in this world—love. That is what I want for my children. If they have love, it doesn’t matter if they can see or not.”
It was true. He could live with losing his sight because he had her love. He could live with her, and their children, and be exceedingly happy.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Thank you for agreeing to help me two years ago.”
He kissed her passionately. “We helped each other. Both of us were blind to the power of love. But we were brave enough to let love light the way and now we can both clearly see. Forever.”
In loving memory of Megan Nation, taken from us on June 10, 2018. A life cut too short at only forty-three, but one filled to the hilt with love and laughter. Small in stature but big in heart, you’ll never be forgotten. Miss you…
Acknowledgments
I’m doing my edits for Drawn to the Marquess in the middle of deep grief for my cousin’s wife, Megan, who died in a freak car accident last Monday. I write stories of love and it guts me to know that for my cousin David, his ten-year love story is over, except for his memories and two young children who no longer have a mum. They are his comfort and joy.
I guess this is why I enjoy reading and writing happily ever after stories, because we all know that real life is not always so kind, or happy, or filled with love.
Many people helped me during the process of writing this book. My writing friends, of course, my beta readers, family, and editor Sue Grimshaw. I really needed them all this past week.
But I also have to thank Neil Handley from the College of Optometrists, London, England, who provided me with invaluable information on eye surgery in the early 1800s. They were far more advanced than I had imagined. I thought infection would lead to most eye surgery being disastrous, but even though there was no antisepsis at this time, the risk of infection was mitigated to some extent by the speed of the procedure and by the eye’s ability to cleanse itself with the tear fluid.
Thanks also go to Professor Steven Vernon of the Royal College of Ophthalmologists, England, who led me to base Stephen Hornsby’s affliction on Retinitis pigmentosa, which is a name for a number of inherited conditions that cause a progressive loss of visual function starting with night blindness and continuing through tunnel vision to blindness.
They both were very helpful in leading me through what would, or could, happen to Stephen’s eyesight.
BY BRONWEN EVANS
The Disgraced Lords Series
A Kiss of Lies
A Promise of More
A Touch of Passion
A Whisper of Desire
A Taste of Seduction
A Night of Forever
A Love to Remember
A Dream of Redemption
The Imperfect Lords Series
Addicted to the Duke
Drawn to the Marquess
Attracted to the Earl (coming soon)
PHOTO: MALCOLM BROW BLUE FISH STUDIO
USA Today bestselling author BRONWEN EVANS grew up loving books. She has always indulged her love of storytelling and is constantly gobbling up movies, books, and theater. Is it any wonder she’s a proud romance writer? Evans is a three-time winner of the RomCon Readers’ Crown and has been nominated for an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award. She lives in Wellington, New Zealand.
bronwenevans.com
Facebook.com/bronwenevansauthor
Twitter: @bronwenevans_NZ
Read on for an excerpt from
Attracted to the Earl
By Bronwen Evans
Coming soon from Loveswept
Chapter 1
LONDON, 1817
There was nothing Guy liked more than having a long hot bath after a vigorous afternoon of sexual congress. Especially when his bed partner was none other than the beautiful widowed Lady Beth Paxton. Her elderly and infirm husband had the decency to die on the young lady within eighteen months of their wedding, and she had been indulging herself ever since.
Married four years ago at the age of twenty to a man old enough to be her father was never a girl’s dream. But with her father dead and her mother having no money, she did what all well-bred daughters should—she married for money.
She was brought up to follow society’s dictates, so she had not indulged in affairs until after her husband had died. Or so she would have society believe. But the rumor was that, since her husband could not perform, she’d been sleeping with any man she could in order to get with child before Lord Paxton passed.
Childless she received a small widow’s pension, but with a son she would reign in luxury as Lady Paxton with Lord Paxton’s heir.
Taking Guy to her bed was proof she’d born no son. No child at all. On Lord Paxton’s death, with Beth’s mother now in her grave too, and finding herself without the means to live the life she wanted, she’d turned to the oldest profession, one she seemed to relish and enjoy. Which was a small blessing.
Six months ago, Guy became her latest “protector.” He’d taken pride in the fact that he’d won her favor given he was not the richest man pursuing the beautiful young widow. As the second son of the Earl of Argyle he had a generous allowance from his brother, but he could not compete in the financial stakes with the likes of Lord Ashton or Lord Clifton. But he had youth and looks on his side against those wealthier men.
Beth had become his mistress upon his discharge from the army, however he could feel that their time was coming to an end. She’d been complaining about the lack of jewelry he’d presented to her. And he did not blame her for wanting more financial security than he could provide.
Guy spent most of his allowance on this house that he leased for her at the edge of Russell Square. When he was not here with Beth, he was at the townhouse of his brother, the Earl of Argyle, in London. He knew he had to look at getting his own residence but he had only been out of the army for six months and, ironic as it was since he was sitting in a tub of water, he felt like a fish out of it. He had no idea what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Given his—affliction—he didn’t know what he could do.
Guy would be sad to end this liaison. He believed Beth would be too, and that was why she had put off the conversation that he knew was coming. She genuinely liked him, as he liked her. But in their world money ruled. He understood that.
He picked up a jug on the stool next to the tub and poured water over his head to rinse clean the soap before sluicing water off his face with his hand.
“Darling, will you be long? I’d like a word before I have to dress for Lady Skye’s soiree.”
Yes. She was definitely going to end their liaison. Usually she joined him in the tub and most of the water ended up on the floor. He particularly liked it when he took her from behind as she knelt holding on to the side of the tub for dear life. He could make her come and come and come in that position as his hands were free to caress her little hardened nub.
God damn it, now he was hard for her again.
He closed his eyes and thought of hi
s dead father, who Guy hoped was burning in hell. That was enough to see him flaccid within moments. With a resigned sigh he stood and stepped from the tub, reaching for a towel. He dried himself off before grabbing a second towel and wrapping it around his hips and joining Beth in the boudoir.
She was pacing with her hands clasped together, her sheer negligee hiding nothing of her voluptuous curves as the late afternoon sun shone through the window. He took pity on her once again and preempted her.
“It’s all right, sweeting. I understand why you need to end our liaison.” He shook his head as tears welled in her eyes.
“It’s just Lord Clifton has promised me a small fortune. Enough that I will need no other protector once my liaison with him ends.”
He briefly closed his eyes on the idea of Beth having to have sex with the likes of Clifton. He walked to where she stood so desolate and he pulled her into his arms. “Just ensure he gives you whatever he has promised you before you bed him. Don’t let him fob you off. He could die and I’m pretty sure his widow and his brother would never give you a penny.”
She sobbed against his chest. “Thank you. I have really enjoyed our time together. I will never forget you.”
He thought she was sincere but what else could one say when an arrangement was ending. “I doubt I’ll forget you either, Beth. You helped me heal from the horrors of war.”
She pulled out of his embrace and ran her fingers over the long, puckered scar that ran from his back to his stomach. The wound that almost killed him.
“I’m glad. As a prost—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t say that word. We all do what we must in this world. Never be ashamed for being a survivor.” Images of what he had endured and faced in his past flashed through his vivid memory. His father’s brutality, the wars he’d fought in, the men he’d killed…He cleared his throat. Now was not the time for self-pity.
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