The Earl of Heartbreak

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "I thought you just informed my brother that Mrs. Dowdy planned things with my assistance?" Sarah craved the feel of the hot press of Rayne's cock at her slick entrance. When he lifted her up a bit more, she was able to slide herself down onto him with a hiss of pleasure. "Oh, that is delightful."

  "Well I couldn't very well tell your brother that I planned his wedding ball now could I?" Rayne ground out as he began to thrust hard up into Sarah's tight heat as she ground her hips downward at the same time. "Ah, my Sarah. What you do to me." He seized her mouth in another hot, open-mouthed kiss. "You are far too perfect for a man like me."

  In response, Sarah arched her back a bit so that Rayne might hit that secret spot deep inside of her, the one guaranteed to bring her almost unlimited pleasure when they coupled like this. Having done so the last two afternoons, she was rather good at this by now and knew precisely what she liked. She would be heartbroken when these secret trysts had to end and they could no longer sneak about like naughty schoolchildren.

  "Very well," she agreed as he thrust again, this time doing something peculiar with his hips that made her burn from the inside out. "But you must tell me what you have planned so that I can...oh!"

  "No more talking," Rayne demanded as he thrust into her again. "Not now. I don't give a bloody damn about that party when I am inside of you like this. All I can think of is you. How much I want you. How much I desire you. All of you so perfect. And all of you mine and mine alone." Then he crushed Sarah's mouth to his in a passionate kiss and she was lost.

  She thought about nothing else but Rayne, about the way she felt when he was inside of her and the pleasure he brought her. She simply allowed herself to bask in the way he made her feel and the way he made her entire body quake with a mix of longing and need. He was perfect as well. So very, very perfect. And it would nearly kill her to let him go. For he was all she had ever wanted in this life.

  "Rayne!" Sarah gasped as he increased his pace, making the books fall from the shelves behind her. This was hot and wild and so unlike anything that Sarah had experienced before. She delighted in every moment of his lovemaking, and she craved more. Even twenty lifetimes would never be enough to satisfy her or her cravings for this man.

  "Sarah!" Rayne's voice was just as strangled as her own, and she could feel him begin to tremble as he did when he was ready to spill himself.

  They had long since passed the point where he cared if he was inside of her when he released his seed. Though neither of them acknowledged the risk they took, they both knew that to find their release otherwise would be...unwelcome. It was not what either of them wanted. Once more, they would deal with the consequences if and when they arose. For they would not trade one exquisite moment of their time together, no matter how much of a risk it might be.

  Then, Sarah was lost, her body clenching tightly around Rayne's and she felt him lose control as well. Her mind spun and colors pinwheeled in front of her eyes. And she knew that it would never be like this with another man. Never.

  Finally, when their breathing slowed, Rayne lowered Sarah back to her feet and did his best to help her adjust her dress. His efforts weren't perfect, but since she was about to go and dress for dinner, she supposed it didn't matter. Colleen had now grown used to rumpled and half-laced gowns. If that made Sarah a wanton or a whore, she did not care. She was finally having a taste of what she had longed for all of her life. She was...happy. She would make no excuses for her pleasure, not even to a trusted servant. Especially not to them.

  Sarah raised her lips to Rayne's for one final kiss. In the hallway beyond, she could hear the shuffle of feet and knew that the servants were about. In the drive, she could hear the distant clatter of carriage wheels. People were arriving, be they guests or family. Her time with Rayne was growing short.

  Together, they walked hand in hand to the door. Neither one of them needed to say a word. They both knew this had likely been their last time together.

  "I love you, Brook Bexley. I always have and I always will. Just you. No one else. Forever." Sarah whispered those words as she unlatched the door and slipped into the hallway leaving a very stunned and very silent Earl of Heartbreak in her wake. She also did her best not to look back for she feared that if she did, he would see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Sarah did not want Rayne to see her pain, especially not when she knew he shared it with her. Even if he could not admit as much.

  Chapter Eighteen

  From her position at the edge of the ballroom, Sarah could already tell that the ball was a rousing success. The music was delightful, the guests were having a lovely time and even the typically grouchy old Duke of Annandell, Lavinia's grandfather, was smiling and seemed to be enjoying himself. That was something of a small victory in and of itself, considering the man's normally foul temper.

  She was also quite happy that the assembled guests were not all but melting where they stood, for it was beastly hot both inside of the ballroom as well as out. Every single candle in the glittering crystal chandelier that sparkled high above the ballroom floor had been lit, creating the effect that Sarah knew her mother had longed for - one of magic and mystery and romance. However, coupled with the intense heat that was still gripping the area, it also made for some very uncomfortable guests. Though no one appeared to be openly complaining.

  Thankfully, all of the terrace doors had been flung open to the night beyond. Not that the air was much cooler outside, but there was something of a breeze, which helped a bit. At least no one had yet fallen into a swoon, though the elderly Lady Kittridge, as well as Lady Huffton, both seemed as if they might topple over at any second, and Sarah suspected that it was only the firm hand of Lady Katherine Oakley, the widowed Countess of Crossbury, at both women's elbows that prevented the lot of them from toppling directly into the punch bowl. Which would have been an awful mess to clean up, not to mention utterly embarrassing for all involved.

  Nobody was complaining about a single thing this evening, however. Instead, everyone was remarking upon how elegant the entire setting was and how the ballroom was so beautifully decorated, right down to the last little spangle and puff of netting.

  Sarah had even managed to have enough time - and borrow liberally from Rayne's plans - to ensure that the outside of Hallowby Grange was decorated as well. Sealed clear-glass jars full of some sort of ground German glass - and Heaven only knew where Rayne had procured them - sparkled sliver from the torchlight on the grounds beyond, casting shadows and reflecting light everywhere, making the entire room seem as if it was dusted with shimmering starlight.

  Gauzy panels dusted with some sort of silver dust and shot through with pastel blues, purples and pinks hung from the walls and ceiling, drifting about on the breeze and making it seem as if one was walking in a nether world of some sort where time did not hold sway and anything was possible.

  It was fanciful. It was shimmering. It was magical. And it was absolutely the most beautiful ballroom Sarah had ever seen.

  Thankfully, everyone else seemed to agree, including her mother who, even the morning of the ball, was convinced that the entire event would fall apart if every detail was not double and triple checked.

  Clara Tillsbury, along with Sarah's sisters Dory and Aurelia had arrived at Hallowby not more than three hours after Frost and Lavinia had. They were accompanied by a thoroughly confused Aunt Beatrice who could not understand why they were not in Bath, a cranky Aunt Elizabeth who had not wanted to come to the celebration but did not wish to miss it either, and a rather bemused Harry Greer. Harry had located Aunt Beatrice somewhere the tiny village of Upper Kestlewick in Wiltshire - and how he had managed to find one old woman in such a remote place still defied Sarah's comprehension. Thankfully, Aunt Bea had been unharmed when Harry discovered her ensconced in a teashop, uncertain as to how she had come to be there and refusing to leave despite the best efforts of her coachman and the shop's proprietor to dislodge her.

  Even now, Sarah was uncertain as t
o how Harry had managed to coax Aunt Bea back into her carriage and agree to allow him to accompany her back to Hallowby Grange. Yet somehow he had managed the entire situation rather well and without upsetting Aunt Bea in the slightest. In fact, the old woman now thought Harry to be the most charming and delightful of men and was utterly besotted with him - even though she was at least twice his age, if not more. So when the little group from Upper Kestlewick had fortuitously met up with the carriage transporting the rest of the Tillsbury women along the way, they had all made something of a caravan of it. Sarah knew her mother had rested a bit easier knowing there was another man in their party as well, and the whole trip had gone rather smoothly from that point forward.

  Like Frost, Lady Clara Tillsbury had given both her daughter and Rayne strange looks when they had arrived, but thankfully, she had not subjected either of them to interrogation over what Frost still termed their "deucedly odd" behavior. Instead, Sarah's mother had thrown herself wholeheartedly into finalizing the plans for Frost and Lavinia's wedding ball, and had welcomed all of the guests as they arrived as if she had been in residence for the entire two weeks with Sarah and Rayne.

  It was amazing really.

  Actually, it was amazing that there was a ball taking place at all, especially as Sarah had done nothing to prepare for the occasion. Not a single thing. Every detail, right down to the last candied violet on the delicious wedding cake Mrs. Dowdy had prepared, was all Rayne's doing. That even included the guest list which, from what Sarah gathered, absolutely delighted her mother for it included everyone she had thought of inviting and even a few that she hadn't and would have unfortunately snubbed otherwise.

  All the while, Sarah accepted the praise for Rayne's plan, though she felt like a fraud. She was also a bit cranky and had to make certain to mind her tongue so that she did not snap at undeserving servants - or unsuspecting guests. Then again, Sarah knew she was likely out of sorts because she hadn't been able to spend a single moment alone with Rayne since her family's return to Hallowby. Not even for a quick kiss in the butler's pantry.

  Instead, Sarah had been pushed into dress fittings with Madame LaVallier who Rayne - though Sarah once more received the credit for that brilliant stroke of planning, of course - had somehow managed to pry out of her shop in London long enough to make certain that all of the Tillsbury women, Aunt Bea and Aunt Elizabeth included, had perfectly fitted gowns for the occasion. All of which included that special touch of golden lace that marked them as LaVallier creations and indicated that the entire Tillsbury family had accepted Lavinia as one of their own.

  Sarah had also enjoyed numerous cozes with her sisters and with Lavinia, who was just as lovely as Sarah remembered and was practically glowing with marital bliss. In between her numerous family obligations, Sarah also severed as occasional hostess as guests arrived from far and wide and oversaw at least some of the decorating of the ballroom, which had been transformed into a magical fairy forest.

  Sarah knew that Rayne had not been a fan of the tropical theme chosen for the betrothal ball back in London, and neither had she. He also knew that Sarah adored fairies, especially those from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and, in her heart, she believed he had likely created this lovely setting just for her. It was certainly not for Lavinia, though the other woman was enjoying the decorations as well. The entire scheme simply wasn't quite Lavinia's style, though, given that she had only been with the Tillsbury family for a very short time, few of them even knew how the new viscountess' tastes ran.

  Several times over the last few days, Sarah had wished to thank Rayne for everything he had done - from the ball planning to lying to her family about their relationship to well...just everything. However she hadn't seen him much. Then again, even if she had, she certainly would not have been permitted to be alone with him. Yes, Frost had trusted Rayne to escort Sarah about Town and protect her when they had been in London, but ever since his arrival at Hallowby, her brother had made it clear that he thought something odd was going on, something involving both Rayne and Sarah. He had been watching them closely ever since. So even if Rayne had put himself in her path, she likely wouldn't have been able to speak with him anyway.

  Not that he had put himself in her path. In fact, if she didn't know for certain from the staff that Rayne was still in residence at Hallowby, she would have though he had retreated to Fieldown and risked the matchmaking mamas and title-grasping daughters. However, to her immense relief, he hadn't departed, at least not as of yet. She had made it a point to ask Wilson.

  Now Sarah scanned the crowd, her eyes searching for Rayne once again, thinking that she might be able to manage a dance with him without arousing suspicion, but did not see him anywhere. She saw many familiar faces including those of Harry, who had been convinced by Dory - and their mother, much to Sarah's surprise - to remain at Hallowby for the ball. Not that Dory had to do much in the way of persuasion, Sarah was certain; the man was smitten with Dory and she with him. Sarah also noticed Lord Hunt and several others that she knew had come directly from the house party at Fairhaven, as well as the Duke and Duchess of Enwright themselves.

  Thankfully, Baron Hodge was not present this evening, but Lord Lansdale and his sister Pearl were. Pearl was busy chatting with both Dory and Aurelia in the far corner near a piece of wood decorated to look like a glittering tree. For a moment, Sarah lost sight of Lansdale but then he was there beside her, looking just as perfect as ever. And, like that day in the meadow, Sarah's heart skipped a tiny beat. There was still attraction between them, but nothing even close to what she felt when she looked at Rayne.

  "Lady Sarah." The marquess bowed low and Sarah dipped a curtsey in return. "You look exquisite this evening. A true rose among thorns. Present company included, of course."

  She blushed a bit at his words. "Thank you, my lord. I appreciate the compliment, but I really don't need flattery." She knew that her silver and cream Madame LaVallier gown was made of the finest lace and exquisitely crafted, but she did not feel quite as beautiful as she had days ago while wearing the pale pink gown at the summerhouse. The night Rayne had first bedded her. For in that gown, as simple as it had been, she had felt like a true princess.

  "It's not flattery if it is true." Lansdale inclined his head in the direction of Lavinia and Frost. "Do not misunderstand me. The bride is lovely, but she is not you."

  "Thank you." Sarah looked into the marquess' eyes and for a moment, she tried to imagine being wed to this man. Sadly, she could not, even though she knew in her heart that Frost would accept Lansdale as her suitor long before he would even begin to consider Rayne. There was an attraction between her and the marquess, certainly, but nothing more. There was no love, and she doubted that there would ever be. Affection? Possibly. But not love.

  Lansdale offered Sarah his hand. "Would you care to dance? I promise you that I am very good and will not even step on your toes." He smiled and in that moment Sarah wondered if perhaps this man could be her future after all, especially since Rayne no longer seemed to wish to fight for her. "Or at least I will not step on them much. Pearl would beg to differ about my dancing skills, I am afraid."

  Sarah could hear the first strains of a waltz beginning and her first inclination was to decline his offer. However, from across the room, she could see both her mother and Frost watching her carefully with Rayne nowhere to be found - as if he had given up on her and what they had shared over the last two weeks. If she did not want to reveal too much of her time with Rayne, she would take the marquess' hand and allow him to lead her onto the floor.

  "I would be honored, my lord." Sarah allowed Lansdale to lead her out for the set but the moment his hand touched her waist, she knew she had made a mistake. She felt nothing at his touch, not even the same slight tingle she had felt the first day she had encountered him in the meadow that ran between their estates. Again, there was attraction, but nothing deeper between them, at least on her part.

  For the first few moments, the m
arquess said nothing. He simply held Sarah close and led her through the steps of the dance, glancing in the direction of her family every so often. Finally, he broke the silence. "I believe your family approves of me." He smiled slightly. "Even though I am considered by many to be a crass and uncivilized American."

  "You will find that my family is a rather forgiving group on the whole," she replied softly. Not forgiving enough to accept her with Rayne most likely, but more than forgiving enough to tolerate the so-called American Marquess. "We have seen our fair share of trials over the years and come out the stronger for it. Therefore, unlike most of the ton, we do not judge a person on rumors alone. We tend to judge on traits such as character."

  For some reason, that made him laugh. "You do not pull punches, do you?"

  "I prefer to be direct." As far as Sarah was concerned, very little good ever came from dishonesty. Even though at that very moment she was lying to those she loved the most. She supposed that made her something of a hypocrite, but she didn't care. She had so little time - if any - left with Rayne. She did not want to lose those precious moments for the sake of being honest. She had never lied to her family before, but then, that was before Rayne.

  "That is good to hear, for I am of the same mind." Lansdale turned serious now. "Which is why, my dear, I would like to make you a proposition." He obviously saw that Sarah was about to protest so he rushed on quickly. "And please, hear me out before you refuse."

  After a long moment she nodded. "As you like."

  "We are good together, Sarah. If I may be so familiar as to call you that." The marquess looked at her earnestly.

  "You may." Despite everything, she would like to be friends with this man and still hoped to assist Pearl in making her debut in the fall.

  Pleased at her response, he smiled again, this time a bit wider. "As I said, we are good together. I would like to think that in the brief time we have known each other, I could go so far as to call us friends. Would you agree?"