He buried his smile in her hair. “I suspected. You enchanted me."
"I did?"
Her words were so sweet, so childlike, moving him to a softness he'd never felt before. “You still enchant me."
She drew back a bit and frowned. “Tell me about this bet between you and Lord Darlington."
Christian felt his face heat and prayed she did not see. “Foolish. It was the most stupid thing I've ever done."
"Why did you do it?"
"Stephen is my half brother."
She gasped.
"It is true. My father dallied with his mother, Beatrice. You remember her?"
"Oh, my. I had no idea."
"Stephen is unacknowledged, of course. Though I would claim him in a second. We were childhood friends."
"Would this not hurt his reputation? Already, he is a lord."
"But, he could be more."
"Yes. Does he want more?"
"I do not think so. He only wants to maintain his estate and live in comfort."
She gave him a questioning look. Such a determined creature!
Christian sighed. “Would that I could call back everything, he would be my brother. It is my belief that Beatrice was bitter that I ranked higher. I believe she poisoned his mind against me."
"You were friends before."
"Yes, we were, yet as we grew older people began to remark upon our similarities. The truth became impossible to ignore. We knew that we were brothers, but then, animosity came. Everything was a competition."
He pulled her closer and sighed deeply. He wanted her to understand, to forgive. “The night I met you, he was searching for a bride, as well."
"He was?"
"Yes. He'd set his sights upon you, and I was furious. I wanted you for myself. He challenged me at every turn and like the panther he is, dared me. I was childish, Elizabeth. Very childish. I let myself be goaded into a ridiculous bet, but you were not some weak-willed woman to be manipulated. I soon learned that."
She straightened. “The two of you talked about me?"
He shrugged. “What can I say? We did. We talked about you like men talk about women. We sang odes to your breasts, your thighs—"
"Enough! You are becoming ridiculous."
A mischievous light danced in her eyes. His humor was working. He smiled and ran his finger over her sweet lips. “We are competitive, love. He offered a challenge and in a fit of temper, I accepted. I was a beast. I felt a sense of competition with my brother and fell deep into a pile of—"
"I understand,” she said quickly.
"Do you?” He leaned closer and touched his lips to her forehead. “I was a fool to take you as a woman who'd allow men to bet over her. It was demeaning to you and I apologize. Stephen's taunts did me in, and I succumbed like a juvenile. Please forgive me, love. I had to marry; I had to choose you."
She lay quietly in his arms and a stillness settled over them as the fire continued its crackling, giving meager light in the darkness. Then, she popped up again to gaze at him in sudden surprise. “An Li!"
"What? What about An Li?"
"Do you not see? She is in love with him. He is in love with her."
Shaking his head, Christian stared at her. “What on earth are you talking about? An Li has gone to live at Charlotte House and is extremely happy."
"No. She is not."
He frowned, completely at sea. “How do you know?"
She relayed what she knew, including snippets of conversation between An Li and Stephen.
"So my brother has found love,” he said, smiling.
Elizabeth frowned. “I would not be so sure. Things seemed rather strained between them."
He looked at her. “We have trouble enough of our own, do we not?"
"Do we? Have trouble?” Her innocent question, the sweet questing tone of it, unmanned him.
"I love you, sweeting. I have adored you almost from the beginning. Why have I waited so long to tell you?” He took her shoulders in his hands, felt the tremble overtake her.
"Do you mean it? Or is this another jest at my expense?"
He stared into her eyes. His hands trailed the column of her throat to capture her jaw. “I love you. I have had women, but it is with you that I want to grow old. Today when I saw you with the baby, I had the most miraculous hopes. Wishes. Dreams. In the beginning, it was all a game, but I fell in love. Love, my sweet, changes everything. I offer you my heart, my soul. Will you take it?"
She stilled. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him without speaking. Moments ticked by until defeat wound itself around his heart. He'd pushed too hard. Revealed too much. He'd lost her. Stricken, he released a breath and struggled to hide his despair.
Then she smiled a siren's smile and moved from his lap to stand before him. His heart nearly stopped beating as breathless anticipation soared through him.
"Come,” she whispered, reaching for his hand. He let her draw him from the chair until he stood before her.
Softly, she touched her fingers to his face, his throat. He groaned as she burrowed her face against his chest, her hot breath teasing him mercilessly. The tie at his waist was loosened by busy fingers. Heaven! Her touch was heaven! His body readied itself for her as she brushed the dressing gown from his body. It fell to the floor.
"Mine. All mine,” she whispered in a rush of words. “No other shall touch you."
"Never.” His relief was so great that he shuddered with it. “Touch me. Please touch me."
"Heavens yes.” She laughed with an elation that was contagious. Happiness, a sense of completion, filled him at the sound of her gaiety. Her touch on his torso seared him.
"Tell me that you belong only to me,” she murmured against his flesh.
"I do, oh, God, I do. No other woman can fulfill me."
"Promise?” She laughed wickedly. “I am extremely jealous of all your experience."
He groaned and pulled her closer. Her mouth settled over his ribs, and he gasped. “You shall receive all the benefit of that experience, love."
"Yes, that is good! Teach me more, Christian. Show me in word and in deed how much you love me, and I might tell you the same."
"Might?” He wanted to tease, to enjoy her intelligence, but his need was great. Slowly, he sucked in a breath as she lowered her lips. No part of him was left untouched. Her tongue flicked out to tease his nipples, and her fingers lingeringly plundered the hair on his chest.
"Yes,” he murmured as his body clenched.
For a virtually untutored woman, her touch was as brazen as any courtesan's. Her hands swept his ribs then returned to linger. When her hot mouth followed, his blood roared in his head. Before he could think to stop her, she dropped to her knees before him.
"Magnificent, my lord.” Her hands began an intimate study of his thighs, the calves of his legs. Her breath fell on his erection and he looked down at her.
From her subservient position, she returned his stare, but there was nothing submissive in her expression. Her unbound hair brushed his throbbing hardness and when he sucked in a breath, she smiled and rubbed against him like a kitten. Only a blind fool could fail to note the aura of empowerment glowing on her face. It must be a heady thing for her to realize the hold she wielded over his body.
When she took the heavy head of his erection into her mouth to suckle, he was helpless. Groaning, he plowed his fingers into her silky hair and lost himself in the hot depths of her mouth. Her fingers discovered the hard, swollen sacs and plied them as she continued to pleasure him.
Nothing had ever felt so good.
His head fell back as pleasure seared him. He cried out and gripped her hair. All would be lost if she continued, so with great difficultly he looked down and murmured, “Enough, darling. Enough."
"But why?” she whispered. Her lips were berry red, moist and tempting as the devil. “Did I not do it correctly?"
He laughed. “You do it too well, darling, but I would last for you. That lovely mouth of yours wi
ll be my undoing."
Christian drew her to her feet and lifted her in his arms. When they were beside the bed, he released her and stripped the flimsy garment from her body. He tossed it aside. Everything within him clenched with desire as she stood tall and proud before him. His hands itched to touch; his mouth watered at the sight of all that glorious warm skin. She made him hungry for a taste.
When she reached for him, his mind reeled. Never in a million years had he thought to reach her so quickly. Swimming in love, he evaded her questing hands, drew her to the edge of the bed, and laid her upon it. Desperate to convey his feelings, he made love to her with his mouth. She smelled of lavender and the faint perfume that he only associated with her. Sweet. Spicy. All consuming. When the climax tore through her, she sobbed wildly, and he wanted to weep with her.
In the aftermath, he drew her deeper onto the bed and settled her among the pillows. He cuddled her close. Kisses rained over her perfect nose, her cheeks, and her eyelids, damp with tears. Gently, he nipped her jaw and throat. He took a nipple into his mouth and trailed his hand down the smooth planes of her body. His fingers found her wet and swollen with need. She writhed beneath him. Her legs parted in welcome. His lower body brushed her hip. He pulsed, ached, and needed her so much that he knew he'd die if he did not have her now.
Whispering words of encouragement, he gently turned her onto her belly and moved behind her, between her spread legs. She made a soft sound of confusion. “Shh, sweeting. Trust me,” he breathed against her shoulder. “I love you, Elizabeth. More than life. I want to feel you deeply, completely."
Taking a moment, he caressed her naked back, her shoulders. He tasted the sweet indentation of her spine and the darling dimples at it's base. The firm globes of her buttocks were delight that he sampled with his mouth and hands.
Elizabeth wriggled beneath him, making him smile.
Taking a pillow, he drew it beneath her belly. With a hand beneath her knee, he lifted it to the side and penetrated her slowly from behind. Her gasp of excitement motivated him to follow the will of her body.
"You are so tight. So perfect,” he said. Burying his face against her neck, he rocked slowly. Moving a slight increment, he pushed deeper against a spot that caused her to cry out.
It was wonderful, he thought, as he drove himself within her. Elizabeth arched beautifully to meet him, moving back frantically to take him as deeply as possible. He brushed her womb then and knew he'd died, gone to heaven, or maybe it was hell. Reaching down, he took the tender nub of her sex between a thumb and forefinger. Gently plying it, he felt her quiver. He heard her moan.
"Yes, that's it,” he murmured. She arched against him as he lightly took her nape with his teeth.
Releasing the spot, he laved it to soothe. “Come for me. Now.” His breath came harsh, and he made a rough sound as she clenched around him. “Tell me, Elizabeth. Tell me. I shall die if you do not give me the words."
"I love you!” she cried at the pinnacle of her orgasm. The words reverberated over and over again, her frantic cry streaming through him until he gritted his teeth and fell over the edge with her.
Sated, breathing roughly, he relaxed atop her and stroked her body as it trembled beneath him. A deep satisfaction filled him as he moved to the side and drew her close.
She sighed then daringly looped her leg over his thigh to cuddle close. He smiled with uninhibited emotion. She was his, really and truly his. Closing his eyes, reeling with the long-awaited pleasure she'd afforded him, his thoughts turned to the future they would share. Children, love, laughter. Selfishly, he wanted perfection.
Unbidden, a nibble of fear tore through the edge of his happiness. A crack of lightning rent the sky outside as if a portent of danger. Helpless to explain his sudden worry, he shivered and drew her closer. Slowly, beautifully, she opened her eyes as the lightning sounded again, illuminating her pale body lying in his arms. Still yearning, needing to be inside her for all eternity, he drew her closer and pushed inside her again.
The ominous feeling of danger didn't dissipate and a deep desperation filled him. “Say it again,” he softly demanded, as he began to move to her gentle words.
And through the night and the storm's fury, he said the words as well, and together they branded the phrase upon their hearts. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Outside, the thunder continued to roll its warning.
Twenty-two
As they rode through the outskirts of London in Christian's traveling coach, Elizabeth was tense and pale as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. He was seated beside her on the leather squabs. He reached out and clasped her hands. They were fisted in her lap, white against the skirt of her crimson traveling gown.
"We shall be there soon, love,” he murmured. “The letter from your mother assures us that your father is resting comfortably and should have a complete recovery."
Elizabeth looked at him. “I know what she said, dearest, but I have to know for sure. We should never have lingered so long in the country. It is silly I know, but I feel so awfully guilty."
Reaching out, Christian tenderly cupped her jaw and leaned close for a kiss. “This would have happened regardless of where you were. You must see that. There is no reason to feel guilty for the extra month we spent at Windmere, and you know very well that your father would not want you to feel this way."
"I know. Really, Christian, I loved every moment we shared together in the country.” Elizabeth saw the worry in his eyes and, for a time, concentrated on only him. Yesterday morning, they'd learned that her father had suffered some malady of the heart and was confined to his bed. In her haste to ready them for a quick return to London, she feared she'd neglected her husband.
He'd never once complained, indeed, he helped hurry along their travel preparations. She was completely absorbed in flying to Lord Henry's side. Melting at the soft look in her husband's eyes, she leaned against him, allowed his arms to hold her near. “I cannot regret our time spent together. There were so many obstacles standing between us, but we have been honest and learned from each other the danger in keeping secrets. Oh, I love you so, darling. Have I been terribly difficult?"
"No. You adore Lord Henry, so your fear is natural. I understand perfectly since I still remember my own terror when Mother fell ill. Of course, we had to return."
She smiled. “Thank you for understanding, but promise me that we shall go back to Windmere soon. The place holds many special memories for me."
"For me as well.” He kissed her. “You may count on a return trip very soon, my sweet, though I would show you my other properties as well. I am eager to parade about the local villages with you on my arm. I fear that all despaired I would ever marry."
She flashed him a grin. “Ah, but you are well shackled now, Your Grace, are you not?"
"I would not have it any other way."
Christian had sent word ahead of their imminent arrival, so when they pulled into the Grayson drive, a servant dressed in blue livery moved to help them descend from the carriage. As a stable lad took the carriage away, they hurried up the front steps.
"Mother!” Elizabeth called out as Christian removed her traveling cloak. “Mother, we're home."
Her mother rushed from the parlor and enfolded her in a warm embrace. Tears filled Millicent's eyes, as she drew back to look at her. “Oh, my dear, how lovely you look. I have missed you so.” Then she turned to Christian. “How good of you to bring her, Your Grace."
Christian took Millicent's hands in his and smiled gently. “Please, call me Christian. We are, after all, family now. There is no need to stand on formalities. Tell me how I can help?"
Elizabeth noted how tired her mother appeared.
"How very kind, Christian,” Millicent said with a faint smile. “But there is nothing to be done at present. Please, both of you come in and have tea and we shall talk. Your father is resting now, but I shall take you both up soon."
Complying with her wishes, t
hey stepped into the parlor where Mother poured steaming tea into Sevres china cups. Placing delicate pastries upon small plates, she presented them with a flourish. “There now, a little something after your journey. You must tell me everything."
Elizabeth drew deep within her the scents of home and relaxed for the first time since she'd heard the news of her father's collapse. “Windmere was lovely, as I mentioned in my last letter, and the village is charming. We had a wonderful interlude there, but your message took us aback. Tell me, how is he, Mother?"
"Much better, though he gave me quite a scare. He was attending business at the London Museum offices and was found slumped at his desk. The doctor says that he needs rest, and I intend to see that he complies fully."
When Christian set down his plate and cup to take her hand, Elizabeth saw her mother smile. Was her affection for her husband so obvious then? No doubt, her mother was already thinking of grandchildren and nurseries. Elizabeth hid her own smile at her mother's transparency.
After fortifying themselves with tea, the three of them talked, but Elizabeth continued to worry. She couldn't concentrate on mundane things while her father lay sick upstairs. Finally, her mother stood and held out her hands.
"Come, dears. Perhaps your father is awake. I know how very much he has missed you, and there is no better medicine than his seeing you both well and happy."
Upon entering Henry's room, Elizabeth rushed to his side. He was awake and wearing spectacles as he read from a leather-bound book. Looking drawn and tired, he nevertheless smiled and put the book aside.
"Papa,” she cried softly, as she reached for his hand. Bending close, she kissed his cheek. “How are you feeling?"
"Much better, Moppett, though I was a bit worried for a while. Hello, Christian,” he said. “Sit, all of you."
Christian bowed slightly and settled himself in a chair. “Wonderful to see you, Lord Henry. We were very worried when we received Millicent's letter. What has the doctor said?"
They spent some time talking, Millicent perched upon the bed at Lord Henry's side. When it became obvious that he didn't want to dwell on his illness, talk turned to Christian and Elizabeth's time in the south.
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