by Hazel Hunter
Meredith felt his hips move over hers, and the plum dome pushed between her nether lips, stretching them as he penetrated her. She felt no pain, and once the head lay fully inside her body the wetness encompassed it.
“Look at me,” Alistair murmured, and when she did he pushed again, this time sending the hard column of his manhood much deeper. “What do you feel?”
“It doesn't hurt.” She wriggled under him. “It feels as if it should be there. Oh.” A frisson of sensation swept over her as he forged ahead, sinking his penis so deeply in her that their netherhair meshed. “You are so big, Alistair, yet we fit so well together. I must have space in there of which I am not aware.”
“There is no space between us.” He drew back and then penetrated her a second time, the motion definite, and the friction delightful. “You are squeezing me with your tightness.”
Just as he was stretching her with his girth now. “Does it hurt?”
He put his mouth to hers and gave her several urgent thrusts of his tongue before he replied. “It is the sweetest pain a man can ever know.” He pushed her legs up, bending her knees and spreading her thighs wider. “I want to fuck you now, Meredith. Will you have me?”
The forbidden word made her gasp, but the movement of his shaft inside her was too wonderful to deny. “Yes, please, Alistair.”
He cradled her hips with his hands and set at her, pushing deep inside her quim with his swollen cock, dragging it back out until only the pulsing head lay within. He repeated these actions over and over, his body coiling and recoiling over her.
Meredith soon felt her breasts bounce with the strength of his thrusts, and now and then he would put his mouth to them to suckle her again. The sensation added to the act and began something inside her, causing her to arch under him and writhe as she tried to resist it.
“No, love, don't fight it,” he panted as he thrust and withdrew. “What you feel is pleasure. Give yourself to it. Give yourself to me, Meredith.”
She wanted to tell him she did not know how to do so, and then she was exploding from within; her body convulsing beneath his as a hot, sweet delight billowed through her.
“Yes, yes,” Alistair said, his voice hoarse and shaking now, and as a second conflagration gripped her he pressed deep, his shaft swelling and then pulsing as a warm wetness flooded her clenching tissues.
Meredith pulled his head down and cradled it against her breast, holding him as he shuddered through his own pleasure. She had never felt such emotion, her desire for him easing into a tenderness so acute it brought tears to her eyes.
He lifted his head, easing himself from her body and rolling to one side. She turned to face him, and his big hand caressed her cheek.
“And that is the way of men and women,” she whispered, entirely enchanted.
“Naked together, in bed, and wanting each other,” he replied, bringing her hand to his lips. “That is how I will always want you now.”
“Then we should talk about marrying later.” Meredith nestled against him and closed her eyes, drifting into peaceful bliss.
Chapter 10
In the dark, Thorne could not find his friend.
“Nigel?”
All around him echoed the savage sounds of butchery, the cries of fallen men and the gruesome shouts of the advancing rebels. Blood soaked his uniform, and dripped from the gash on his brow into his eye. His hand shook as he swiped at the burning crimson tears. He fell and then pushed himself up from the dirt, unwilling to surrender himself to the pain and the blackness waiting beyond it.
A terrified lieutenant staggered up to him. “Colonel, they are too many. We must– Ah.” He toppled over, a huge curved sword buried in his back.
In the madness of battle Thorne fought his way toward the small knot of officers desperately trying to hold their position. He could see rebels coming from all directions around them, and only a narrow avenue of escape.
Men fell all around him as a heavy weight bore down on his shoulders. It felt crushing, and yet he knew he had to bear it. It was Nigel, and he needed help. Thorne put one foot in front of the other. He had only a few moments before they would cut him down. Something jabbed him in the back, and he staggered, sure he would fall.
He could not fall. If he fell, they both would be killed
“I am here, Alistair,” a low voice said from the darkness. “Come back to me now.”
“Nigel.” The weight vanished as he spun around, peering through the shadows at the blurry pale face of his captain. “There are too many. We are overrun. The general has sounded retreat. I cannot see– No.” He tried to push his friend away. “We must go. Run. That way. They will kill you. Hurry, Nigel.”
Soft, cool hands touched his wet, burning face. “Alistair, look at me. Look. It is Meredith.”
Thorne jerked upright to find himself standing naked in his darkened chamber. He stared at Meredith, who stood in front of him, her lovely eyes filled with worry. The memories of the terrible battle, and the relief to find himself alive, flooded him with the despair he had never been able to escape. He pulled her into his arms and held her as he tried desperately to compose himself.
“You were shouting in your sleep,” Meredith murmured to him. “I could not rouse you from the nightmare.”
“How long has it been?” he asked her, glancing at the darkened window. He could see the moon rising. “It must be the middle of the night.”
“It does not matter.” She smiled. “We were both exhausted. Come back to bed now.”
“I cannot.” Thorne jerked on his breeches and looked for his dressing robe. “Go to sleep, my dear. I will take you home in the morning.”
She sank down on the bed. “You are leaving me alone?”
Meredith sounded so forlorn he dragged a hand through his hair. “I have an affliction that prevents me from sleeping properly. I am plagued by nightmares. They cause me to sleep walk as I just did. I do not wish you to see me like this.”
She held out her hand to him, and when he took it drew him down beside her. “That is why you always look so weary. You cannot sleep. What causes these terrible dreams?”
He should not tell her anything, but she had already seen the worst of it.
“My regiment was ambushed, and massacred by rebels. I was the only survivor.” Thorne brought her hand to the scar hidden by his hair. “When retreat was sounded, I carried my best friend, Major Nigel Robbins, from the battlefield. He was badly wounded, and could not walk. I was attacked from behind again and again, but somehow I did not fall. I refused to stop. Nigel was already dead by the time I reached help. Then I nearly died myself. Those terrible hours, all the effort I spent trying to save him, unaware that he was already gone… That is what I dream of, every time I close my eyes.”
“Oh, my love.” She leaned against him, and stroked her fingers gently against the old wound. “I am so sorry.”
“That is why I avoid this bed.” Thorne laced his fingers through hers. “This has been the most peaceful night I’ve had since my return to England, and you saw how that ended.” He kissed her brow. “I will leave you to your rest.” He rose, but stopped short as she held onto his hand. “Meredith, you can do nothing about this.”
“I can hold you in my arms,” she told him as she drew back the coverlet. “I can wake you from the nightmare, and hold you again until you calm. Please let me try.”
“I have become violent in the past, believing myself to be in battle,” he told her flatly. “I might harm you. That is why I have never wanted women in this house. A man can stand up to another man, especially one gone crazed. A woman…” He shook his head.
“I am not afraid,” Meredith insisted. “You do not have to bear this alone, Alistair.”
Joining her on the bed felt more like a victory than a surrender. Thorne wrapped his arms around her, and held the slender softness of her body close.
“You are mad, you know,” he told her. “I am not exaggerating about my affliction. When I sleep-walk
I am unaware of what I do. I could attack you and never know it.”
“I will wake you, and you do not have any weapons.” She lifted the coverlet to look under it. “Well, there is that. But I like that very much.”
The laugh that came from him sounded rough, almost torn, but it felt good. He pulled her close, and let himself relax.
“Would you tell me about your friend Nigel?” Meredith asked after a time. “Before the battle, did you spend much time together?”
“We were inseparable.” Thorne smiled a little. “He was a fine soldier, but the best of men. He always knew how to keep the troops in good spirits, charm the natives, and even befriend some of the monkeys that would plague the camp. I never knew him to be cross or disagreeable. He looked upon every day as a new adventure, every campaign as an exciting journey.”
He related to her the time when Nigel had gotten lost in a market while purchasing tea and other supplies for their men. None of the vendors spoke English, and had little love for British soldiers. Yet without speaking a word of Hindi, Nigel managed to convince some raggedly-dressed children to lead him out of the confusing maze of stalls and tents, and then rewarded each of them with a guinea, emptying his own purse.
“He beggared himself for beggar children,” Thorne said. “It seemed foolish, but I secretly envied him his gallantry. I think all the officers did.”
“Just as you were gallant when he fell injured,” Meredith said softly. “You tried to save him, Alistair. He died knowing that.”
Thorne had only ever dwelled on his failure to save his friend. He had never once considered what Nigel might have thought of his efforts. “I often wished that I had died, and he had lived, because he was the better man.”
“If he had, I think Captain Robbins would wish the same.” She lifted her head to gaze into his eyes. “You tell me I must not blame myself, and yet you do the same thing.”
Thorne pulled her close.
“You are right,” he murmured against her hair. “And you are marrying me, my dear, just as soon as we may arrange it. Now, about my one weapon…”
Meredith rose at dawn and borrowed Thorne’s dressing gown before she glanced at her sleeping lover. He had barely moved for hours, so deep was his slumber, and she suspected he wouldn’t wake for some time yet. She slipped out of the chamber and walked down the hall to Lucetta’s room, taking a deep breath before she gently tapped on the door.
Her cousin opened it and said, “I will be down for…Meredith.” She looked over her and took a step back. “You did not leave yesterday.”
“No, I stayed the night.” She smiled. “With Alistair. In his bed.”
Lucetta hauled her into the chamber and shut the door. She started to say something, closed her mouth, walked across the room, came back and pressed a hand to her forehead.
“I am not ruined, exactly,” Meredith assured her.
Her cousin peered at her as if she had gone mad.
This was not proceeding as well as she’d hoped. “The colonel has asked me to marry him. Well, he told me that I am marrying him, but I am in agreement. There was also a small fire that burned my gown. Might I borrow one of yours before I go home to tell Mama and Papa? They will take the news better if I am dressed.”
Her cousin blinked. “A fire?” When she nodded she went to the closet and began looking through the gowns hanging inside. “Meredith, start from when I left you yesterday, and tell me everything.”
As Lucetta helped her dress Meredith related the bewildering events, from discovering Emerson’s troubling journal entry to the sudden explosion that had caused her to black out. She did not go into detail as to exactly what had happened between her and Alistair in his bed, or the nightmare and what he had told her about his affliction, but otherwise she freely admitted to confessing her feelings and encouraging his love making.
Lucetta remained silent as she adjusted the too-large sprigged muslin dress, pinning it at the waist and hem to keep her from tripping over the long skirts. By the time Meredith had finished recounting the events she stepped back and surveyed her with a narrow gaze.
“You are being very quiet,” she told the older woman.
“I am trying to choose if I should accompany you to Starling House, go down the hall and shout very loudly at my employer, or find a large bottle of brandy and drink it. The brandy may win.” Lucetta tapped her chin with a finger. “What troubles me most is the cause of all this: the fire. A hearth does not simply explode.”
“Alistair found a glass shard on my face,” Meredith said. “He believes someone dropped a lamp down the chimney in order to cause the fire. I am not so sure. Perhaps one of the workmen upstairs knocked it over, and did not realize where it fell.”
“Only if he were working atop of the roof. There is no other access to the chimneys but there.” Her cousin frowned. “I must relate this to Harshad, and we will investigate the cause. I will have him wake the colonel so he may accompany you.”
“Please, don’t,” she begged. “Alistair has not been sleeping well since his return to England, and he needs to rest. I wish to speak to Mama and Papa before he does.”
“You intend to be truthful with your parents about what has occurred between you and the colonel.” When she nodded Lucetta sighed. “Given their expectations I imagine they will be very angry at first, but the news of your impending marriage may soften the blow.”
Meredith grinned. “I am going to live here now, and be Alistair’s wife. Would you ever have imagined that?”
“I am very happy for you, my dear.” Her cousin hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Now come. You will want some breakfast before you brace the family.”
Meredith did not linger over the tea and scones Lucetta provided, for she knew her mother would be worried again over her absence. At least this would be the last time she would have to explain herself to her parents, for she knew Alistair would keep his promise. She expected he would obtain a special license so they could be married within a few days.
When Kshantu drove up to Starling House, Meredith didn’t wait but climbed out herself and hurried inside. She expected at this early hour to find only the servants about their work, but Annie intercepted her on the way to the stairs and told her she should go to the sitting room. The maid wouldn’t look at her at all, Meredith noticed.
Both of her parents stood as soon as she entered, and Lady Starling gave her a silent measuring look, her brows rising as she took in the borrowed gown.
“You never came home last night, Daughter,” Lord Starling said, sounding very stern.
“I did not.” Looking at her father’s dour expression made Meredith straighten. She would not cower anymore; she deserved a chance for a happy life. “I stayed over at Dredthorne Hall. I am in love with Colonel Thorne, Papa, and we are to marry.”
The shrieked tirade she expected from her mother never came. Lady Starling simply nodded to her husband, who left the room without another word.
“Sit down, Meredith.” Her mother waited until she did before she said, “You have disgraced yourself, and shamed this family to a degree that I never dreamed possible.”
“I am in love, Mama,” she repeated softly.
“You have returned home without your clothes, brazenly unrepentant, and baldly confessed to your licentious behavior. All of the servants have seen you. By this time tomorrow all of our friends and everyone in the village will know what you have done.” Lady Starling came closer. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
She sighed. “Mama, I am marrying Alistair. I will be the mistress of Dredthorne Hall.”
A beringed hand slapped Meredith’s face so hard her teeth cut into the inside of her cheek.
“You are finished with Dredthorne Hall,” Lady Starling snapped. “Your father and I forbid you to ever return to that place, or have anything to do with that disgusting man. We will send for Percival directly, and you will accept his offer of marriage. That may preserve what few shreds remain of your reputa
tion.”
Meredith touched her throbbing face, the taste of blood strong in her mouth. She had never seen her mother like this, but then she had never defied her so openly.
She has never seen me like this. We have become strangers to each other.
“No, I will not. If you send for my cousin, I will refuse him again. Spare him that humiliation, please.” Slowly she rose to her feet. “We will talk about this when you have had time to calm yourself.”
Leaving the sitting room, Meredith walked past a gaping Annie in the hall and went upstairs to her bed chamber. She needed to pack for when Alistair would come to the manor, for she expected she would be leaving with him. She saw the jade silk dress, newly cleaned, hanging in her armoire, and took it out. Annie had somehow removed the boot blacking and repaired the tear with tiny, invisible stitches. Since it was the finest gown she possessed, it would serve as a wedding dress.
Meredith smiled as she imagined Alistair seeing her in it, and then helping her out of it.
She went to her dressing table and looked at her reflection in the mirror, which showed the livid marks of her mother’s hand blazing against her pale skin. She touched the dark red patches, still unnerved by what had happened. Before today Lady Starling had never once lifted a hand to her. And why did she regard Alistair with such vehemence? She had been quite the reverse when Lucetta had first proposed they catalog the colonel’s library.
In any event, Lucetta had been wrong. Nothing, it seemed, would soften this blow.
Thorne slowly opened his eyes to see the afternoon sun streaming through the windows of his bed chamber. He sat up, still drowsy, and reached for his pocket watch. It assured him that he had slept most of the day away.
How long had it been since he had felt so replete? All thanks to the woman he loved.
He looked at the other half of his bed, and the small indentation on the pillow beside his own. A smile curved his mouth as he bent over to bury his face where Meredith had lain her head. The covering still smelled of her, and he breathed her in deeply. She had been everything to him in the night, friend and lover and consoler. Very soon she would be his wife, and he would share his bed with her every night.