A Lord's Flaming Return: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  Benedict tensed. They were finally talking about it. It had sat like a rock between them ever since they had escaped.

  That night flashed before his eyes, as real as if it was happening again. The sticky heat of the jungle as they crept away from the hut. The strange cries of animals hiding around them. He had taken the gun off the guard who had collapsed just in case they encountered trouble. And he had been very glad he had.

  They had been walking for hours, exhausted and dying from thirst, when a tiger had suddenly leapt out of the foliage, wrestling Ralph to the ground. Benedict had acted instinctively. He had shot the animal, which bled to death atop his cousin. When he finally managed to drag the heavy animal off, Ralph was battered and crying, but at least alive.

  They had reached safety in the village eventually. But ever since, if Ralph heard a gunshot, he winced. It was the reason his cousin had broken down and been unable to shoot a bird that day they had gone duck hunting at Derby Hall.

  “You saved my life,” said Ralph slowly. “That tiger would have mauled me. You have saved my life many times over.” He took a deep breath. “And you deserve to have your life back now, Benedict. You need to put it all behind you.”

  “I know,” said Benedict, his heart lurching. “I know that it is finally time. I am ready to live again.”

  “Emmeline?” Ralph’s voice was a whisper.

  Benedict nodded. “Yes. It always comes back to Emmeline. And it always will.” He stood up. “I am glad that we talked, cousin. And now I must finally tell her everything. It is time.”

  ***

  His chance came late morning. He watched her take a book, vanishing into the gardens. Emmeline always sought solitude. She had never been able to handle too much socialising, and he knew that this particular house party, with all of its tensions and complications, was simply overwhelming her.

  He followed her at a safe distance for a while, not wanting to startle her, not wanting her to panic and retreat into the house. It was imperative now that he tell her everything. The need was burning in his chest.

  Eventually, she strolled down a remote path towards the pond. She settled down beneath a willow tree, opening the book. He took a deep breath, approaching her.

  “Emmeline.” His voice was low and urgent.

  She jumped, turning around. He saw that her eyes were red-rimmed, having obviously not slept any better than he had. She looked so weary that his heart lurched.

  “No,” she whispered. “No. You cannot do this again.”

  “Please, let me explain,” he said. “I want to tell you everything. I need to tell you everything. I do not want anything between us anymore.”

  She stared at him, confused, for a moment. Then she simply nodded her head. “Sit down then. I shall listen.”

  He did as she bid, trying to keep a distance between them. The dream he had about her suddenly whirled around him, but he controlled it. Now was not the time to let his insatiable lust for her rule proceedings. His hands itched to touch her, but he kept them firmly by his side.

  “I did write you a letter before I left,” he said slowly. “In it, I explained that we just had news that my cousin Ralph was being held prisoner in India. My uncle was too infirm to go and help him … and so that duty fell to me.”

  She gasped, her eyes widening in horror.

  “I did not want to leave you,” he said in a strangled voice. “And I certainly did not want to do it without saying farewell in person. But you were away for a few days, and we only just managed to book passage on a ship sailing to India the next day. I simply had no time, Emmeline. I wrote the letter and left it with the butler to deliver.”

  “The letter that never arrived,” she whispered, her eyes gleaming with tears.

  He nodded. “Yes. But I had no way of knowing that then.” He hesitated, gazing out over the pond. “Things did not go well in India. I tried to pay the ransom for Ralph’s release but was instead taken prisoner as well. I was held captive there all that time, Emmeline. That was why I never wrote to you.”

  She paled. “Why did you not tell me this before?”

  “It is difficult for me to talk about it,” he said haltingly. “It was a nightmare, Emmeline. I have tried so hard to forget it. But it has haunted me … it is the reason I have felt unworthy of you … the reason I have resisted you.” He swallowed a painful lump. “I felt as if I had nothing to give you, as if I am a mere shell of the man that I once was.”

  She moaned as if she were in pain, placing her hands over her face. He watched, aghast, as her shoulders began to shake.

  He leant towards her, his heart so sore he felt as if it might suddenly shatter. “Please, my love. Do not cry … not on my account.”

  She sobbed quietly into her hands. He rested a hand on her waist, saying nothing, as she wept. When she was done, she dropped her hands, gazing at him with a tear-stained face.

  “You should have told me,” she said in an agonised whisper. “I could have helped you heal … I could have loved you …”

  “You are loving me now,” he said, his heart soaring as he gently brushed her face with his hand. “You are giving me exactly what I need and want, Emmeline. I am just so very sorry it has taken me so long to realise.”

  Chapter 20

  Emmeline watched him as he led her deeper into the woods beyond the Vickers’ estate. He had said nothing when he stood up after his explanation, simply holding out his hand to her. She had only hesitated for a moment before she had taken it.

  The book was left abandoned on the ground as he walked off, leading her by the hand. It hadn’t taken them long to reach the outskirts of the estate. He had looked back at her once before they continued into the woods.

  Her hand felt heavy in his own. So very heavy as if a weight of expectation lay between them. But it also felt so very right. She was meant to have her hand in his.

  Her eyes filled with tears again as she thought of his story. About how much suffering and pain he had endured. He had never meant to abandon her and had almost lost his life. She had been wrong ever to doubt his love and would never do so again.

  The landscape changed as they meandered deeper into the woods. A canopy of interlacing tree branches let in precious little sunlight; all was shadow. A few birds chirped in the trees, but otherwise, it was as silent as a churchyard.

  After they had walked for over half a mile, he stopped near a small stream. He turned to her, pulling her into his arms. She could feel his urgency. The time for talking was over and no words needed to be exchanged now.

  Slowly, he undressed her, taking off each item of clothing with exquisite care. His face was solemn as he gazed upon her body as if he wished to commit her to memory. She suppressed the sudden desire to tell him that he didn’t need to. She was his, and they would never be apart again.

  When she was finally naked before him, he picked her up, sweeping her into his arms, before laying her carefully down beneath a tree. He leant over her, kissing her like a man drowning, as he shed his own clothes.

  She shuddered with ecstasy at the feel of his hands on her skin again after so long. The sheer bliss of it. She had forgotten how it had truly been between them; she had forgotten why she had felt compelled to give her maidenhead to him. For so long, all she could think about was what he had taken from her, not what he had given her.

  But she remembered now. She arched her back as those wild sensations started to bud within her. His mouth was drifting down her body now, stopping to suckle on a nipple. She gripped the back of his head as the sensations intensified, pulling him ever closer so that he could feast upon her. The world was starting to recede and grow hazy.

  His mouth drifted lower, trailing frenzied kisses over her belly before he reached her centre. Gently he pried her legs open before his tongue connected with her hot flesh, licking and sucking with abandon. She twisted in ecstasy beneath the onslaught, feeling as if she were climbing to heaven itself.

  Suddenly, he drew away, settling
himself between her legs. She raised her hips to welcome him before he plunged into her, thrusting with abandon. The feel of him within her again after all this time was simply too much. A single tear trickled down her face. Slowly he leaned down to lick it off, staring at her intensely.

  “Emmeline,” he whispered. “I thought I would never feel you like this again …”

  She reached up, caressing his face. “I am yours, Benedict. Forever.”

  He smiled slowly, his eyes triumphant. And then, slowly at first, he started to rock against her. She responded by raising her hips higher, drawing him ever deeper. It was so desperately beautiful that she started to cry softly again, twisting her head from side to side.

  His movements quickened. Suddenly, he was thrusting hard, pushing her back against the tree. Those wild sensations grew stronger. She was climbing again, the sweetness intensifying. Quite abruptly, they peaked, washing over in turbulent waves. She arched her back, crying out in sheer bewildered joy.

  Just as suddenly, he reached his own climax. He cried out, twisting above her. She felt another flood of warm wetness engulf her before he finally fell upon her, spent.

  They lay in each other’s arms, panting. She gazed over his shoulder at the stream in the distance. The sound of it trickling was so very beautiful that she closed her eyes in a blissful haze. He tightened his arms around her. She nestled into him as a wave of pure happiness swept over her.

  She was in his arms again. They had just made love. It was such sweet baffling joy that she could barely comprehend it.

  Only this morning, she had believed she could never trust him again, that he was playing with her feelings. And now, all was resolved between them. She knew why he had left her and did not blame him for it. Her only remaining sorrow was the thought of all he had endured in those lost years. All that he had suffered while she suffered his absence. Life had cruelly ripped them apart for so long.

  But they were together again now.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” he whispered ardently into her ear. “How much I have always loved you?”

  She slowly turned in his arms, gazing at him. “Yes. I know.”

  She gazed into his eyes, feeling as if they were the last people left on earth. As if the world were made just for the two of them.

  He shuddered, gripping her tighter. She nestled closer against him, hearing his heart thudding rhythmically in his chest. She wanted to stay here forever. She never wanted to leave his arms again.

  ***

  Emmeline gazed out of the carriage. The house party was finally over, and they were heading home.

  Benedict was standing at the top of the steps, watching. He had promised he would be there for her departure. Their renewed love was still a secret between them; she had told him that she wanted to tell Olivia and her parents when she was home.

  And then, he could visit Lambeth House and declare for her. Finally. After all these years.

  She felt as if she were glowing with pure unadulterated joy. The only fly in the ointment was Mr Hardy, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge that she wasn’t interested in him. She was trying to be polite but knew she would have no choice but to tell him outright if he persisted.

  He would know soon enough anyway, she thought, as the carriage’s wheels started to turn. Their engagement would be announced within a few weeks if all went well. Only a short while before their love could finally be declared to the world. And what was a few weeks after all the years they had spent apart?

  She glanced back at the house. Benedict was still standing on the steps, watching the carriage draw away. But then another figure emerged, standing behind him. It was Lady Henrietta. And she didn’t look pleased at all.

  ***

  “Oh, Emme,” said Olivia, her eyes gleaming with joy. “I am so very happy for you.” She laughed with delight. “I knew something had happened between the two of you at the house party. I just knew it.”

  Emmeline laughed too. As soon as they had got home, she had been unable to keep it to herself any longer. She had dragged her sister into her bedroom and locked the door, whispering the news. Olivia had enveloped her in a fierce hug before begging for all the details.

  They were seated now on the bed. Olivia listened intently as Emmeline told her the sad story of Benedict and Ralph’s imprisonment in India.

  “That is terrible,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “To think that we had no idea what had happened to them both. Why did old Lord Montagu never say anything?”

  Emmeline sighed heavily. “Apparently, he is a very private person,” she replied. “Benedict said that he loathes gossip and thought it no one else’s business.” She paused. “But it suited Benedict well. He had such a very hard time talking about it and did not wish it to become parlour chatter.”

  “That is perfectly understandable,” said Olivia, frowning. “But it also meant that no one could make allowances for them, after all they have endured. It meant that you believed he had deserted you when he had done no such thing.”

  “It does not matter now,” said Emmeline slowly. “Yes, it would have explained everything, but all that is important is that we have resolved it between us.” She took a deep breath. “It has taken a long time, but the truth has finally come out.”

  Olivia’s eyes were moist with tears. “What a beautiful love story,” she whispered. “He truly thought that he was undeserving of you? That he had nothing to give you?”

  Emmeline sighed. “He had an awful lot of pain and guilt about what happened,” she said slowly. “He carried it within him. He felt like he could never love again … not in the same way. He thought it best if I moved on and did not think of him any longer.”

  Olivia blinked back tears. “But he could not do it anymore? He realised that he still loved you exactly the same?”

  Emmeline blushed. “That is what he tells me.”

  Olivia was silent for a moment. “What of Mr Hardy, Emme? And Lady Henrietta?” She paused. “They are both going to be severely disappointed by this news. I saw how they were at the Vickers’ house.”

  Emmeline sighed again. “What can I do, Liv? I do not want to hurt anyone, and neither does Benedict. But we cannot decide not to be together because of the feelings of other people.” She paused. “They will both get over it quickly. Mr Hardy barely knows me, and Benedict claims Lady Henrietta only likes him because he is wealthy and titled.”

  Olivia nodded. “Of course. It is just a pity that Benedict could not have resolved these feelings before other people were dragged into it. If he had declared he still loved you and told you the truth as soon as he got here, it would never have happened.”

  “I know,” said Emmeline slowly. “But it is done now and cannot be undone. They will get over it, Liv. I am certain of it.”

  Olivia gripped her arm excitedly. “Oh, Emme, it will be so much fun to plan your wedding day! And Mama is going to be over the moon when we tell her. Papa as well.” She paused, her eyes sparkling again. “Shall we go and tell them now?”

  Emmeline jumped to her feet. “Why ever not? Now that all is revealed …”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” called Emmeline.

  Maisie, her maid, entered. “There is a letter just arrived for you, miss. It came by urgent rider.” She handed it to Emmeline before leaving the room.

  Emmeline looked down at it curiously, turning it over in her hand. There was a red wax seal with a crest she didn’t recognise.

  “Who can this be from?” she wondered aloud before breaking the seal and quickly reading it.

  She gasped, falling against a bedpost. The letter fluttered from her hand to the floor.