A Scoundrel by Moonlight

by Anna Campbell

  It felt like hours before she and Leath galloped across the moors again. Mrs. Murray’s feather-light scones congealed into hard stones in Nell’s stomach now that finally she was alone with the marquess. When she’d given him her consent, she’d brimmed with courage. Now she was as nervous as a cat on a stove.

  They careered into the grove where he’d asked her to be his mistress. He hauled his horse to a rearing stop and vaulted to the leaf-covered ground. In two long strides, he crossed the space between them. Before Nell could snatch a breath, he caught her around the waist and swung her down.

  She glimpsed glittering need in his eyes before his mouth took hers in a kiss of such urgency that her knees folded beneath her and she collapsed against Adela. The mare snorted and backed away.

  Heat flooded Nell, tightened her nipples, puddled between her legs, trapped the breath in her lungs. On a muffled gasp, she grabbed Leath’s powerful shoulders to stay upright. And to touch him. How she’d longed to touch him.

  Ruthlessly, his tongue parted her lips and slid inside to stroke hers. If he’d kissed her like this in his bedroom, she’d have fled in terror. Now she arched closer. He was hard against her belly. Once that too would have terrified her, but not now that she’d surrendered to desire.

  Ravenously he claimed her mouth, setting her aflame. She moved her tongue against his, relishing the hot rasp.

  Too soon he raised his head and stared down at her as if he saw nothing else in the world. “You meant it?”

  She licked swollen lips. He was more delicious than wine. She nodded and struggled for words. That kiss had smashed every thought but the need to be close to him. “Of course.”

  His laugh was close to a groan and he leaned in until his forehead bumped hers and they shared each breath. The intimacy was as powerful as his rapacious kiss. “I couldn’t trust myself to look at you and still keep my hands off. Do you have any idea what torture you’ve put me through?”

  A wry smile tilted her lips. “I might have an inkling.”

  Her hands curled into his shoulders, then drifted down his powerful chest, feeling the heat beneath the wrinkled shirt. It gradually dawned on her that she could touch him when she liked. The thought was arousing.

  He kissed her again. This time, she did more than cling in bewildered delight. Feverishly she explored him, feeling the hard muscles, the thunderous beat of his heart. Such a valiant heart. She wrenched her lips from his and pressed a kiss to his chest.

  He angled her face up until their eyes met. “I want you so much, Eleanor.”

  How she loved the way he said Eleanor.

  His gaze sharpened. “What is it?”

  “You’re the only one who calls me Eleanor.” She couldn’t help smiling. She should lament her ruin, but she’d never felt so free.

  “You’ll always be Eleanor to me.” He looked younger, happier, than she’d ever seen him. “Although calling you Miss Trim always gives me a delicious frisson. I’ve dreamed of debauching the prim Miss Trim.”

  “Oh,” she said, and he laughed.

  “Well may you look smug.”

  “Of course I’m smug. I’ve caught myself a wonderful man.” She cradled his face between her hands, reveling in the fact that she could, and pressed her lips to his beak of a nose. “Rather terrifying, I’ll admit, but definitely a handsome fellow. And the only man I’ve ever kissed.”

  He drew her closer for a thorough kiss that had her knees imitating string again. “When you say things like that, I feel like a beast for everything I want to do to you.”

  “Now?”

  She saw him consider having her, here in this lovely, lonely clearing. She also saw the moment good sense won. “You deserve better.”

  “I want you so much, I hardly care,” she confessed, knowing she made herself dangerously defenseless, but unable to stop. Every time he kissed her, love melted her very bones.

  “Eleanor, you humble me.”

  She blushed. “Would you rather I played games? I’m not experienced enough to know what I should do. Should I pretend reluctance?”

  Another cracked laugh. “Dear God, you’ll drive me mad. No, don’t play games. You’re all that’s fine and true. I feel like I see into your soul.”

  When she recalled her lies, she suffered a momentary twinge. But none of that mattered now. What mattered was that the man she loved wanted her and she wanted him.

  He kissed her again. “I thought I had no chance. You sounded so certain when you refused.”

  “If you’d kissed me like that, I wouldn’t have had a hope.”

  A shadow crossed his features. “You should marry a good, respectable man and look forward to a gaggle of children and a home of your own.”

  As she stared into eyes the color of pewter, the high tide of her euphoria ebbed. “If this is the only way I can have you, I can bear it.”

  Regret darkened his expression before he pressed his lips to hers. The wildness retreated, but his tenderness turned her heart to syrup. With no reluctance, she abandoned that mythical good man and accepted that her fate was forever entwined with the Marquess of Leath’s.

  When he withdrew, they were both shaking. She found it immensely moving that she, unimportant Nell Trim, made this superb man tremble. A muffled sound of disappointment escaped her as he stepped back. “Why did you stop?”

  This time his groan held no amusement at all. “You take me to the edge, my darling. And this isn’t the place. Or the time.” He glanced up at the turbulent sky.

  She hadn’t noticed that the weather closed in. “When?”

  He caught her hand and raised it to his lips. “Would you come to me tonight?”

  Consent rose to her lips, but wouldn’t emerge. She’d been a housemaid mere weeks, but it had shocked her how intimately the staff observed the family’s habits. “If I come to your bed at Alloway Chase, everyone will know.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want the other servants to call me a slut.”

  The word hung between them, harsh, ugly, and sadly true. “I’ll never think of you like that.”

  She searched his face, wanting reassurance. “Your mother deserves my respect. I can’t do it.”

  “I want you so much.”

  Something in his tone made her frown. “You’re testing me.”

  Self-derision edged his smile. “I suppose I am. This morning, I struggled to resign myself to never having you. Now all my dreams come true. You can’t blame a man for questioning such a miracle.”

  She smiled back. Something about his vulnerability made her heart squeeze in a painful ecstasy of love. She swallowed and struggled to make sensible decisions. “You don’t want a scandal.”

  How odd to think that before she came to Alloway Chase, deceit had been completely foreign to her. Since then, every day she’d told lie after lie, and now she signed up for a lifetime of subterfuge.

  “Right now, I don’t care.”

  “But you will,” she said flatly. She stiffened her spine and told herself to be brave. If she wanted the marquess, she must pay the price.

  “So I must resign myself to more lonely nights?” The question was wry, but she heard his frustration.

  “Oh, Leath…”

  He hauled her up for another ardent kiss. But she’d reached a point where kisses no longer satisfied. Even in her inexperience, she knew that for both of them, only consummation could allay their raging desire. Still, she gave herself up to him with a fierceness that left them both panting.

  One powerful hand curled around her buttock. The other cupped her face. The mixture of overt demand and sweet care threatened her resolve and she muffled a sob. “I thought once I said yes, this would be easy.”

  The strengthening wind whipped her damp skirts around her legs. The storm around her paled in comparison to the storm in her soul.

  “Nothing worthwhile is easy,” he said with a hint of grimness.

  “I won’t change my mind,” she said firmly.

 
Such relief flooded his face that for the first time, she realized quite how much he wanted her. Her gloominess about the future retreated.

  “Thank God,” he breathed and kissed her quickly, withdrawing before passion ignited. His features were tight with control, hinting at the restraint he exercised here where he could lift her skirts in seconds.

  She moved closer and rested against him. His arms encircled her, surrounding her with his familiar scent, tinged with lingering traces of river water. “I have to trust you not to expose us to the world’s censure.”

  His embrace tightened. “I’ll do my best, Eleanor. With sleepless nights ahead, I’ll have plenty of thinking time.”

  “I’d rather be lying beside you.”

  “Believe me, I’ll do my best to find a quick solution.”

  A fat drop of rain hit her head. She looked up and another landed on her cheek. The wind tore the last leaves from the trees around them.

  “It’s been a watery day.” She struggled to make their separation bearable. After this, seeing him without touching him would be torture.

  He laughed softly. “It’s been a marvelous day. I look forward to an even more marvelous day.”

  “Don’t make me wait long,” she said softly, as freezing rain swirled around them.

  “I curse that we must wait at all,” he said with a hint of savagery that carried into his kiss.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lowering clouds brought early dusk to the isolated cottage tucked into Derbyshire’s Peaks. For two days, Nell had waited here. Leath had promised to arrive today, but the evening drew in without him. A dizzying mixture of longing and nerves kept her at the parlor window overlooking the graveled drive. A drive that remained empty, despite all her dedicated watching.

  The day after Nell had agreed to become his mistress, Leath left Alloway Chase for a week, ostensibly to visit another estate. While away, he’d sent her a letter bristling with daunting practicalities, softened only by a “yours, James” at the end. Sentimental fool she was, she’d slept ever since with that letter under her pillow. She’d hoped that tonight she’d have more than his words to keep her warm.

  Disconsolately she turned away from the rain outside.

  He’d come. She knew he would. But the delay was excruciating. Nearly two weeks ago, she’d vowed herself to a man in a rush of passion, and all she had to show for it was a few kisses.

  She dropped onto the brocade couch before the roaring fire. Derbyshire seemed even colder than Yorkshire. There was snow on the surrounding hills and when she’d ventured out to explore the garden, she lasted minutes before hurrying inside to the warmth.

  She’d left the marchioness’s employment with a story about caring for an ill aunt. Since then, she’d crossed another wilderness and settled into this exquisite bower.

  Nell appreciated Leath’s discretion in his choice of love nest. This thatched house with its snug parlor and cozy bedroom upstairs under the eaves held a touch of the fairy tale. The larder was stocked with all manner of delicacies, enough to last the week. Leath had arranged every luxury except servants. She was desperately glad that she wouldn’t have to face knowing eyes.

  She hadn’t yet heard his lordship’s long-term plans. Somewhere she’d need to accustom herself to life as a fallen woman. She and her lover couldn’t hide in this sanctuary forever, making do for themselves.

  How she wished Leath would come. Avoiding grim reality became more onerous every moment. A woman who gave everything up for love shouldn’t sit alone on a cold night, contemplating the lonely years ahead.

  Sighing, Nell rose and lit the candles. She wandered into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. The wind whipped the trees outside so violently that she found it in herself to be glad that Leath wasn’t on the road.

  Sipping the rich claret, she stared out the kitchen window. Then she trudged back to the parlor. She wasn’t hungry, but it was too early for bed.

  “Eleanor?”

  She raised her head and stared at the towering figure dripping onto the flagstones in the hallway. “My lord?”

  The shock of seeing him when she’d reconciled herself to another night alone was too much. To her utter mortification, tears flooded her eyes.

  “Oh, my darling.” Flinging away his greatcoat and dropping his bags, he rushed forward and caught her wine before she spilled it. Curling one arm around her waist, he slid the glass onto a table before enveloping her in his heat, his power, his sheer presence.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered, struggling not to weep into his chest. The scents of leather, sandalwood, and Leath flooded her senses. “You gave me such a surprise.”

  His embrace tightened. “I didn’t mean to be so late. The damned horse went lame outside Matlock and the weather’s been horrid.”

  “You should have waited until tomorrow.” The battle against tears wasn’t going well.

  “And spend another day without you? I’d rather cut off my arm.” He swung her around until he collapsed onto the chaise with her lying against him. “Eleanor, Eleanor, don’t cry. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

  “I am,” she wailed into his shirtfront. “You’ll think you’ve taken on a complete lunatic.”

  His laugh held a fondness that went a long way to soothing her distress. “It’s the wait. It’s enough to drive the sanest person—among whom, dear Miss Trim, I count you—mad.”

  “You won’t believe this, but I rarely cry.”

  “Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

  She burrowed more deeply against him. “I trust you.”

  “I’m glad.” A note in his beautiful voice had her lifting her head.

  “I truly am happy to see you,” she said, not sure whether he’d believe her. With a shaking hand, she brushed her tears away.

  “I know you are,” he said with a twitch of his lips. He caught her face between his hands and studied her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “And I’m overjoyed to see you. It’s been a long ten days.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said fervently. She sniffed and a choked giggle escaped. “I must look a fright.”

  “You do rather,” he said with a smile. “A delightful fright.”

  “What a welcome I’ve given you.”

  Briefly he pressed his lips to hers. “Thank you for waiting.”

  Nell had a bleak premonition that his mistress would devote many hours to waiting. She shoved the thought to the back of her mind where all her other misgivings lurked.

  James Fairbrother was a good man. Nell knew that to her bones. The rules of their world made it impossible for them to be together without shame and secrecy. So she must accept shame and secrecy. Other women lived with that. She could learn to. Dear Lord, let her learn to.

  Right now, the man she loved was inches away, whereas the future seemed so distant. “After ten days, is that the best you can do, my lord?”

  His lips curved. He wasn’t a man who smiled easily, except with her. The thought melted her last doubts. “I feel rather awkward kissing a woman who addresses me so formally.”

  “Perhaps you need more practice.”

  “Do you mock me, Miss Trim?”

  “It would do you no harm.” She’d seen how people respected and admired him. He seemed poignantly short of people who treated him as an equal. Even Sir Garth Burton’s attitude had verged on hero worship.

  His expression turned serious. “Please, Eleanor, call me James.”

  She rose on her knees and pressed provocative little kisses across the cool, damp skin of his face. His striking features had lured her since that first alarming encounter outside his library. She could stare at him for days and only become more fascinated.

  A glance of her lips across the wide forehead concealing his miracle of a mind. Another to where his pulse beat at his temples. A row of kisses along his hairline, tasting rain. Three deliberate kisses down that intimidating nose.

  “I’m sure… James… wouldn’t leave me… stuck on a�
�� precipice of… uncertainty for nearly… a fortnight,” she said between kisses.

  More kisses along hard, slanted cheekbones and along his jaw. His skin was rough with stubble. This tangible proof of his masculinity thrilled her.

  “Eleanor—” He caught her waist between his big, powerful hands.

  “Only wicked Lord Leath would… leave me so long,” she said, her voice muffled against his neck. He smelled so wonderful. Fresh air. Horses. Male musk as his desire stirred.

  “If wicked Lord Leath tells you that he left Alloway Chase before dawn to reach you, would you relent, sweet Miss Trim?”

  She nipped him sharply, then drew back. “Truly?”

  “Truly.” He tipped her back onto the chaise and loomed over her. “I won’t have scandal darkening your name. If I left too soon after you, questions would be asked. My mother is no fool.”

  Troubled, Nell met his silvery eyes, seeing evidence of his arduous day in the weariness under his excitement. Because he was excited. Even before she’d kissed him, she’d known he was in a lather to have her. “Did she say anything?”

  “No. When I told her I had business in the south, she merely… looked.”

  Nell raised her chin with false bravado, as the thought of the marchioness knowing what they did made her cringe. “I’ll get used to this.”

  Tenderness lengthened his mouth, softer and fuller than the mouth of the man who ran Alloway Chase. Just as his gaze was softer as it rested upon her. Whatever this recklessness cost her, she knew that the James Fairbrother she held now was hers and hers alone.

  This time when he kissed her, he lingered, sucking on her lower lip until she parted for a luxuriant exploration. Every bone in Nell’s body melted. “That was lovely,” she sighed.

  “You’re lovely.”

  “If you’ve been traveling all day, you’ll be hungry. Shall I find you something to eat?”

  His eyes focused on her and she squirmed at the heat in those silvery depths. “I don’t want food. I want you.” He laughed at her nervous squeak. “Have I shocked you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  His smile broadened. He stood, extending his hand. “I will before I’m done. Will you come with me, Eleanor?”