by Lucy Monroe
He sucked rhythmically, thinking of all that he wanted to do to her sweet body. She was coming apart in his arms and he loved it. He moved his hand under her skirt. Feeling her silk pantalets, he groaned. When his fingers encountered the slit in the fabric between her legs, he growled in satisfaction. She tried to press her legs together and squirm off his lap.
Her movements nearly pushed him past control. He spoke soft words of reassurance in her ear and moved his hand over her breasts. He prayed she would not make him stop.
He wanted to give her pleasure. He needed to give her pleasure.
She began to writhe. “Ian, do something.” He smiled at her demand. “I am, Belle, trust me.” He slipped one finger into her tight heat and kissed her, using his tongue to imitate the movement of his finger. She writhed more frantically against him. He placed his thumb on the sweet button above where his finger did its gentle dance.
She tore her mouth from his. “No. Stop. I can’t…” He fondled her breast with his other hand. “Trust me.” He kissed her again. Soft tender kisses that turned passionate as she moved against his hand.
“Ian.”
“Aye, Belle. That’s it, lass.”
She went completely rigid and then convulsed around his hand. She cried out and collapsed against him. He kissed her once more. Taking several deep breaths, he tried to get his raging passion under control. He had never wanted another woman like he wanted Belle. He wasn’t going to take her for the first time in a carriage in the London fog though.
She hid her face against his chest. “That was amazing.” He smiled at the awe in her voice. “Aye, it was.”
Chapter Eight
Annabelle’s heart had begun to slow, but she doubted she would ever be the same again. No wonder Diana liked being married so much. She nestled closer to Ian, his distinctly masculine scent surrounding her. The rapid tattoo of his heart against her ear gave her pleasure. He had been as affected as she even though he hadn’t…her thoughts trailed off.
“You didn’t…” She couldn’t go on.
Lifting her chin, he met her eyes. “Not this time.” The tenderness she saw in his gaze washed over her wounded heart. “You wanted to.”
“Yes.”
She sighed and snuggled against his chest. “Thank you.” He righted her clothes and continued to hold her. “You’re welcome.” She played with the button on his waistcoat and enjoyed the feel of his arms around her. “Ian, it seems to be taking an inordinate amount of time to get home. Had you noticed?”
“I told my coachman to drive around until I signaled otherwise.” Her head flew up. “Did you know we were going to…to do this?” The thought that he could be that certain of her when she had been so angry left her insides churning.
He shook his head, “Nay, Belle. I wanted to talk without interruption.” She giggled. “I’d say we were interrupted.”
“Aye.” She heard the satisfaction in his voice.
“Ian?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why did you go to the theater with Miss Caruthers?”
“Hamilton told me that you were upset when our names were linked in the gossip column.” He wrapped her hair around his hand and rubbed the strands with his thumb.
She leaned back to look in his eyes. “You were trying to protect me from gossip?” He nodded.
“I don’t understand.”
“I didna mark you for attention and spent time with Miss Caruthers so that it would not be so clear I was courting you.”
She stared at him without speaking and then she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that tears trailed down her cheeks. He commanded her to stop. When she didn’t, he shook her lightly. “Stop that, Belle. What is so funny?” She gasped for air. “Ian, you do not understand the ways of the ton very well.” He wasn’t happy to hear that if his suddenly rigid body and angry eyes were any indication. She wanted to laugh some more, but controlled herself. “There will still be gossip.”
“Why?”
She shook her head at his ignorance. “Our names have already been linked. Those who have noted your lack of interest and your escort of Miss Caruthers will assume you have given up courting me in favor of her.”
Like Annabelle had.
“What would I want with her?” Ian asked.
“Do not be dense, my lord. Miss Caruthers is beautiful and most gentlemen would be pleased to gain her interest.”
“I am no most gentlemen.”
She smiled against his chest. He seemed to be waiting for her agreement. “No, you are not.”
Ian’s tense muscles relaxed. “You must call me Ian now. A wife should not call her husband my lord.”
She sat up straight to look in his eyes. “We have had this discussion many times.”
“Aye.”
“I do call you Ian sometimes.”
“As my wife, you will always use my name.”
“But I’m not your wife.”
Comprehension emerged at the look of complacency on his face. “Ian, you cannot believe that I am now going to marry you because of what just happened.”
“I bloody well do.”
“Do not swear at me.”
“You are going to marry me, Belle.”
She scooted off of his lap to the opposite seat in the carriage. “I am not going to marry you, Ian.”
She was thankful for the dim light in the carriage. Ian’s glare was intimidating enough and she could barely see him.
“After what happened, do you deny that you love me?”
“Should I now believe that you love me?”
“Men are different.”
She did not know if she wanted to cry or box his ears. She ended up shouting instead.
“So, you are saying that any woman could have been in your arms just now?”
“Dinna be foolish.”
“Do not call me a fool.”
“I didna call you a fool.”
The urge to cry grew stronger.
He grabbed her hand and yanked her back into his lap. He pressed her backside against him. She felt his hardness. “Do you feel that, Belle?” She squirmed in anger and embarrassment. “Don’t.” Her voice cracked.
“Do you feel it?” His words were no longer angry, but had grown gentle.
She nodded, refusing to answer.
“Belle, no other woman has ever affected me like you do.” Her eyes flew to his. “No one?”
“No one.”
“Not even your ex-fiancée?”
“No.”
“But it doesn’t mean you love me.”
“It means I want you to marry me.”
“Ian, passion is not love and I cannot marry you if you do not love me.” She wanted to bury her head against his waistcoat and bawl like a baby.
He pressed her face against his chest and soothed her. “We will not discuss this anymore right now.”
They would discuss it again soon, though. She was sure of it. The thought left her both dreading the next time and relieved that Ian had not given her up for Miss Caruthers.
* * *
Annabelle walked into her aunt’s garden unnoticed by Diana and Robert. The smell of freshly tilled earth attested to Aunt Griselda’s recent efforts in the flowerbeds.
Daffodils fluttered in the soft spring breeze and their bright yellow reflected the warm rays of the midmorning sun.
Her brother was gone on his favorite subject, farming. “Diana, this is really something to take note of. Aunt Griselda has certainly made extensive research into the proper planting patterns for her herbs.”
He pointed at a clump of purple and green leaves surrounded by tall stalks of green shoots. “Look at this basil near the garlic. I’m told planted that close together the one picks up the flavor of the other.”
“Robert, I’m sure that is all that is interesting, but can we not just enjoy the flowers without discussing the merits of planting one closer to the other?”
“I’m discussing herbs, dear, not flowers.
Look at this-” Annabelle interrupted her brother’s discourse. “Robert, I think Diana is trying to tell you that she does not share your interest in horticulture.” Robert and Diana both swung around to face her. “Alas, no, but then I cannot expect my wife to enjoy everything I do.” His indulgent tone of voice made Annabelle smile.
Diana rolled her eyes and Annabelle found it difficult not to laugh. She greeted her friend with a hug.
“Hello, Diana. Cresswell informed me you were out here.” She turned to her brother.
“Hello, Robert.”
Diana squeezed her arm. “Annabelle, you look delightful.” Honest admiration mixed with ill-concealed surprise in her tone.
Annabelle couldn’t hide an amused smile. “Thank you.”
She looked down at her dress. The skirt tiered to her ankles in several layers of bottle-green gauze cut like Gypsy scarves. The high-waisted bodice ended in small cap sleeves that ended in points like the skirt. She liked the gown. It made her think of woodland fairies.
Recalling her previous discussion with Diana about fashion, she said, “I believe I am finally finding my style.”
Diana looked at her with a critical eye. “Yes, I do believe you are.”
“Annabelle has always had her own style,” Robert asserted.
Annabelle smiled at her brother’s staunch support. “Thank you, Robert. You’re the best of brothers. Aunt Griselda did not tell me you were planning to call today.” They must have made their plans after Ian and she left the theater the night before. “It’s a glorious day for meandering in the garden.”
Diana laughed. “Robert is regaling me with his knowledge of herbs.” Robert drew himself up. “Now that my sister is here, there is no reason for you to bore yourself with my company. I’m sure MacKay will appreciate Aunt’s herb beds even if you do not.”
Diana patted his arm soothingly. “Calm down, Robert. I have no intention of abandoning you just because Annabelle has joined us. I’m sure she would be delighted to hear your thoughts on gardening.”
Annabelle nodded. “Delighted.”
Robert laughed. “I’m not in the least bit fooled. You two baggages can go gossip.
MacKay will be here soon enough.”
Diana reached up and planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “Very well, dear, but we won’t desert you completely. We will go have our coze on that stone bench over there.”
Robert smiled at his wife, obviously forgetting that he considered public affection unseemly. Diana indicated that Annabelle should follow her.
“Wait a moment.” Annabelle did not move. “Robert, did you say that Ian was coming to call this morning?”
She did not want to face Ian today. Her body still reacted every time she thought of their time in the carriage. She had woken twice in the night, hot and aching after dreaming about him. She was not ready to confront him in the flesh.
“We are going to the museum. MacKay told me that you wanted to go.”
She did want to go, just not today. Besides, she had plans today. Not that she had any intention of telling Robert. She’d listened to more than she wanted to from him on the subject of her involvement in women’s rights already.
“He did not ask me about today.” She frowned.
Robert said, “I’m sure it was an oversight.”
“Indeed.” She moved away from Robert to look at her aunt’s prize rosebush. It was not yet in bloom, but buds had formed on several of the branches. “Then he will not be disappointed when you and Diana are his only companions on the excursion.”
“Do you have other plans today?” Diana’s obvious regret pricked at Annabelle’s determination not to go. Now that her friend was married, excursions together were not nearly as common as they once were.
“It’s simply that I’m not sure I want to spend the day with Ian.” She knew her friend would understand and from the look of compassion on Diana’s face, she was right.
Robert was not so easily swayed, however.
“Annabelle, it is time you stopped being so intractable about this. MacKay is courting you. How will you know if you wish to marry him if you do not spend time with the man?”
She sighed. “Robert, he wants to marry me because he thinks I’m an aging spinster desperate for marriage.”
“He is being practical. I wish you would be a little more so. I want to see you married.”
She would be deeply offended if she did not know that her brother was motivated by genuine love and concern for her. He truly believed that she would be happy as a wife and mother.
“Ian’s reasons for marrying me don’t make any sense.” Robert jumped to defense of his friend. “MacKay’s views are logical based on what he wishes to do for his tenants.”
“What of his wife?” Diana asked.
Robert turned to her. “Diana, you and I both know that Annabelle is all that is wonderful in a woman and will make an excellent wife. Ian will be the ideal husband for her.”
Annabelle had heard enough. Ideal? When the man refused to even discuss love.
Even after what they had shared in the carriage. “Will he love me as you love Diana?
Will he be unfashionably willing to live in my pocket as you often seek to be with Diana?”
Her heart constricted at the thought of Ian expressing even a fraction of the devotion to her that Robert showed his wife. “Will he cherish me and care only for me and never look at another woman with that look men get when a beautiful woman enters the room?
Will he be an ideal lover as well as husband?” She knew her words were improper, but they were torn from the very depths of her soul.
The skin on Robert’s neck turned a rosy shade. He tugged at his cravat. “Annabelle, those are not questions that I could possibly answer and I hope you would not pose them to MacKay.”
How unfair of Robert to think that she did not need the very things he gave his wife.
“Are these not promises you made to Diana in your courtship?” The blush spread from his neck to his face and her brother refused to meet Annabelle’s eyes. “That is not the point. You should not be discussing these things with me.”
“But, Robert, you have just told me I cannot discuss them with the man you think I should consider marrying. Is it because Diana is lovely and I am plain? Do I not deserve the same care and consideration?”
“You are all that is lovely, Annabelle. I won’t hear you criticizing yourself this way.” He frowned fiercely at her. “It is simply something not done. A lady does not discuss these things,” replied Robert, this time sounding quite desperate.
She had shocked her brother enough. It was not his fault that Ian wanted to marry her for all of the wrong reasons.
Diana brushed her husband’s coat sleeve to gain his attention. When he turned to face her, she spoke. “Robert, there are many women of the ton who would be pleased to accept a gentleman without their affections being engaged.” Robert nodded, obviously pleased at the agreement of his wife. Annabelle, who knew her friend better, waited for Diana to take up her defense. She was not disappointed.
“In fact, that is the norm for a society marriage, but your parents had something different. We have something different and that is all that Annabelle wants.”
Robert frowned, looking harassed. “Yes but, Diana, you and Annabelle must see that if the other is the norm it is because love between suitable parties is not.”
“Perhaps, but if I could not be married to you, I would rather not be married at all,” replied his wife.
Diana’s voice had risen in agitation and Annabelle sensed that something lay behind her friends words, something she did not understand.
Robert remained oblivious. “Sweet sentiments, to be sure. However, if all the ton felt as you do, many successions would die out.”
“Are you saying that you do not share my sweet sentiments?” Her friend sounded truly distressed. Annabelle felt guilty for starting a quarrel between Robert and Diana.
“That is a foolish
question, dearest. I did marry you.” Diana’s face blanched. “Yes, but I cannot help thinking you would not have done so if I had not been eminently suitable.” She spoke in almost a whisper.
Robert drew her near and kissed her. Annabelle smiled through her surprise. Her brother was human after all.
“You are intent on quarreling over nothing of import.” He brushed his wife’s cheek.
“You were suitable and we are married. Can we not cease this discussion?” He waited for Diana to answer.
Finally, she nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I still think Annabelle is entitled to marry for love if she wishes to.”
“No one is going to force her to marry MacKay.” Annabelle almost laughed at Robert’s words. Her brother suffered under a delusion if he thought anyone was capable of forcing her to marry. Love was the only thing that could drive her to enter the wedded state.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled. She turned slowly toward the house, knowing what she would find. Ian stood framed in the doorway. He looked much too virile in his coat of blue superfine and buff pantaloons that accentuated his muscled thighs. Memories of how those hard thighs felt under her own made her cheeks grow warm.
Ian walked toward her, ignoring both her brother and sister-in-law, until he stood mere inches away. He caressed her face with his gaze. He took several moments to look
at her before speaking. She waited, not even breathing, for him to say something. How would he respond to her after last evening?
He reached out and touched her cheek. “Hello, Belle. I’ve missed you.” The words, spoken after a separation of less than twenty-four hours, should have seemed absurd. They didn’t.
“I missed you too, Ian.”
All thought of refusing to accompany him and the others on their outing fled from her mind.
* * *
Blackmail could be a tidy source of income. Who would have believed that his luck could have changed so completely? First, to have stumbled on the truth about Lady Annabelle’s fortune. Now this, a tidy packet of letters that would raise an ugly scandal if they were made public, had fallen into his lap.