by Ruth Owen
She rubbed her arms, wishing she couldn’t so clearly remember the feel of his coaxing hands on her body. “I wanted to…that is…well…”
He glanced back at her and arched a sarcastic brow. “Fascinating. Is this sparkling narrative to end soon, or should I put another log on the fire?”
Honestly, he was the rudest of men. “Another log shall not be necessary, my lord. I simply wanted to tell you that Clara Hobbs had her baby, and—”
“And you wanted to inform me of the birth of my child,” he finished coldly. He turned back to the fire and stabbed the logs with a vengeance. “You are too kind, Miss Winthrope. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like some peace. I’ve had a hell of a day.”
“So have I,” she replied, her temper quickening. “It was a difficult birth, though both mother and baby are fine. You do not have to be so surly.”
“Surly?” With the poker still clutched in his hand he crossed the room like an angry god, with his eyes blazing lightning and his voice booming thunder. “You’d be surly too, if you narrowly averted an explosion in Wheal Grace’s outdated steam boiler, nearly broke your back helping to carry ore to the stripping washes when the tram rail buckled, and listened while some superstitious idiot spread rumors of a Tommy knocker on the mine’s lowest level. I reached the end of my rope hours ago, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t leap for joy when a self-righteous female accuses me of fathering a son on a girl I barely know.”
“I’m not self-righteous,” Rina fired back. “Besides, Clara had a daughter. And I know she isn’t yours!”
Edward’s poker thumped to the carpet. “You…know?”
Rina drew a shaky breath, and nodded. “I…I should have believed you form the first. ‘Tis unconscionable that I believed the worst of you without proof. Absolutely—”
“Prudence,” he said quietly.
“Absolutely unconscionable,” she continued, her words flooding out in a deluge of remorse. “You were right to compare me to Isabel. Except that my crime is far worse than hers, because she wasn’t with you all the time and I was, and I should have known that you could never do such an ungallant thing to a poor—”
“Prudence.”
“—girl like Clara. You would never misuse your authority in such a reprehensible way, never. In my heart I knew that you could not—‘twas only my foolish head that told me otherwise. And because of that I hurt you and I’m sorry because I’d rather died than—”
“Prudence!”
His roar silenced her. She looked into his eyes—eyes as unreadable as the sea. He smelled of the storm. Raindrops glittered in his dark hair like an ancient crown. She licked her lips that had suddenly gone dry. “I’m sorry, Edward,” she whispered. “I should not have doubted you.”
“You had ample cause,” he said, as he reached up and brushed away tears she didn’t even realize she was crying. “You are the most confounding of women.”
She blinked, and gave a slightly inelegant sniff. “I do not mean to be.”
His stormy gaze softened. “I know. And that is the most confounding thing of all.”
Absently, he traced his rough thumb across her cheekbone. Too late, she realized that she’d wanted more from their last meeting together than to see his face and hear his voice. She wanted him to kiss her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t love her. It didn’t matter that he thought of her as a grievous error. She was nothing to him, but that did not matter either. She needed to feel his mouth on hers one last time. Swallowing, she tilted her lips toward his, and—
He stepped away.
Clamping his hands behind him, the earl went to the fire. With his back still to her, he continued. “Tomorrow I will be leaving for Truro on business. When I am finished I…will not be returning to Ravenshold.”
Sabrina blinked in surprise. “You cannot leave Ravenshold. It is your home.”
“It was once. But now…” He rubbed his eyes. “Everyone at Ravenshold will be better off without me.”
“That is not true,” she stated, moving to stand beside him at the hearth. He looked so lost—just as he had on the afternoon she’d spoken with him in the nursery. Her heart somersaulted in her chest. “Edward, you cannot leave Ravenshold. Your grandmother and your sister love you. Your children—”
“—will be better off without me,” he finished grimly. “it seems to be my lot in life to damage that which I hold most dear. My wife. My children. You.”
Rina gripped the mantel. Had he called her dear? But she must have misheard him over the crackle of the flames. She was merely a responsibility to him—an error. “I know that you feel an obligation toward me, but—”
His bitter laugh cut her off. “I feel a profound obligation toward you, Miss Winthrope. But that obligation does not extend to seeing you day in and day out, treating you with polite courtesy as if we were little more than strangers, watching you live your life—a life that I will never be a part of. And in the end, watching you share that life with another, better man.”
He stroked back his damp hair with both hands, and breathed a soul-deep sigh. “I understand why you turned down my proposal. I wronged you beyond all forgiveness. But I cannot endure the farce that my life would become if I stayed here with you. The world is a wide place—wide enough for a man to get lost in. if I look hard enough, I might find a place where I can find some measure of peace, and forget that I love you.”
Rina struggled for breath, finally managing a strangled, “You…love me?”
“I never stopped. But I know that you do not feel the same, and I would not try to change—”
His words ended abruptly as she threw her arms around his neck and stopped his mouth with a kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘Tis a dream, Edward thought. Dreams of her had tortured him since their night in the stable. In a moment he’d wake up, stiff as a pike and aching for the burning heaven he’d found in her arms. But the hot, honeyed mouth fused with his felt real. And the carnal lust that speared through him made him feel alive for the first time since their night together. Groaning, he plundered her mouth, losing himself in the sweet madness of her caress.
Dear Lord, if this is a dream, do not ever let me wake up.
But then the dream struggled to unfasten his greatcoat and breathed an unladylike oath when she couldn’t, he realized this was no dream. This was the woman he’d dishonored, the woman he loved. He would not shame her again. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to hold her at arm’s length. “You can’t…want this. I deflowered you. You do not love me. I know and accept that.”
Her mouth curved into her bewitching smile. “But I do love you. I have always loved you. Even when I thought you’d fathered Clara’s child. Even when you said my love meant nothing—”
“It meant everything,” he confessed roughly. “But I was afraid to believe it. And because I was afraid, I hurt you.” He reached up and tenderly brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I can still see that hurt in your eyes.”
“Then take it away,” she breathed, her eyes shining with new tears. “Only you can, Edward. Only you—”
Her words stopped as he captured her mouth in a devouring kiss.
They burned together like holy fire, knowing the glory that lay ahead and fighting toward it with every ounce of their strength. They struggled out of their clothing, laughing when he ripped the sleeve of her dress, and again when she fell on her backside removing one of his boots. He realized they’d never laughed with each other, and the pleasure of it was every bit as erotic as her adventurous hands and her lush, sweet mouth. They laughed and struggled and caressed until they were both naked and he had her beneath him on the carpet in front of the hearth, with her glorious hair pooled around her.
Her beauty stole his breath. The firelight licked her curves and hollows like a lover’s caress. His hungry gaze roamed over her body as he gorged himself on her sweet breasts, her wanton hips, and the soft dusting of auburn hair that nestled as the apex of her thighs. Her
throaty moan drew his gaze to her face, and he saw that she was studying him, too. Her widened eyes had boldly fastened on the part of him that most plainly showed his desire.
She whispered brokenly, “In the stable…the darkness…I didn’t know you were so…substantial.”
Edward grinned like a schoolboy, knowing she didn’t realize what a remark like that did to his ego.
“Glad you approve,” he chuckled. “And fortunate, since this is the only substantial man you’re going to see.”
He expected her to share the joke. Instead, she turned her head to the side. She was quick, but not quick enough for him to miss the flash of shame in her eyes, and the gleam of remembered terror that said far more than words ever could. A wave of nausea washed over him. Christ, no to her. He gripped her chin and brought her back to face him. “Who was he?”
“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t…”
“He tried,” Edward growled. “And it matters like hell. Some bastard tried to force himself on you. I want his name.”
“Albert,” she whispered. “He’s…he’s dead.”
He’s lucky, Edward thought. Any death would have been more pleasant than the one the earl would have given the foul cur. Questions crowded his mind. How did it happen? When did it happen? And where had the bastard touched her? He wanted to know everything, but this wasn’t the time. She needed to forget what happened, to remember the cherishing love and honor that a man’s touch could yield. His touch.
He lowered his mouth to her breast, and suckled her with slow, searing kisses. She gasped and buried her fingers in his hair, her eyes glittering with the passion of her present, not the shadows of her past. She arched against him and breathed a guttural moan. Smiling, he continued his tender assault, devouring her sensitive waist and belly with wet, wicked caresses until he claimed her swollen center with a delving intimacy that left them both gasping. She gripped the carpet, writhing with aching need. “Now, Edward. I need you.”
Blood thundered through his veins. He was as hot and wanting as she was, but he held back. He positioned himself over her, staring into her eyes. “I need you,“ he breathed, his words coming out in tight rasps. “Touch me. God, I need you to touch me.”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes. He bent down and took her mouth in a deep, carnal caress. A deep moan echoed from one throat, but he couldn’t tell if it was his or hers. They were still kissing when she took him in her hand. The glory of it shuddered through him. Raising her hips, she spread her legs and guided him to her yearning core, welcoming him with every part of her body and soul. They moved as one, joining together in the same blinding magic that had consumed them in the stable. He drove into her, wedding his strength to her softness until he could no longer tell where his soul ended and hers began. And when the madness shattered them, he fell to the carpet beside her and pulled her close and, with the last of his strength, pressed a final, cherishing kiss against her brow.
* * *
Sabrina woke in Edward’s bed, lying against his warm chest, with his arm curled possessively around her shoulders. Sometime during the night he’d carried her to his bedchamber, saying it was high time she became acquainted with it. Her lips curved into a secret smile as she recalled exactly what that acquaintance had entailed.
Sighing contentedly, she snuggled closer to his chest, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, feeling completely safe and protected for the first time in her life. And loved. She opened her eyes, and gazed up into the sleeping face of the man who’d given her more love in one night than she’d had in a lifetime. His face was turned to the side and his other arm was bent behind his head on the pillow. His dark hair was ragged and wild from their passion, and a shock of it had fallen across his forehead. He looked achingly young. Unable to resist, she reached up to smooth his hair, but her hand stilled when she realized that the soft light coming through the window was the first questing fingers of dawn.
Dawn. The servants. She imagined the maid coming into her room to deliver the morning chocolate. Speculation would ensue. Tongues would wag. Before long Mary Rose would add the tidbit that she’d seen Miss Winthorpe and the earl together last night…
She had to return to her room at once. Casting a final look at her lover she started to gently pull herself out of his embrace.
The arm around her shoulder didn’t budge.
She glanced back at his face, and saw his eyes watching her with intense pleasure. His mouth pulled up in a wicked grin. “And where do you think you’re going?”
His rough growl melted her bones like beeswax. She swallowed, barely hanging on to her good sense. “I must return to my room. ‘Tis nearly dawn, and you know what will happen if the servants find out that we…well, if the servants find out.”
Edward settled deeper into the pillow. “Hmmm. Yes, I see. The news will spread through the country like wildfire. You’ll be scandalized. I’ll be beyond redemption. We’ll have to marry immediately.” He closed his eyes and gave a sleepy yawn. “I do not see the problem.”
She breathed a frustrated sigh. “My lord, you are—”
He opened one eye. “Substantial?”
“Incorrigible,” she finished, blushing furiously. “You cannot be drawn into a scandal. Think of your grandmother. Think of your children.”
His hand skimmed down her arm and circled her waist, pulling her against the powerful length of his naked body. “I am thinking of my children. Yours and mine.”
Every ounce of air left Rina’s lungs. The thought of marrying him and bearing his children filled her with a happiness she could barely contain—and an agony so profound she could barely conceal it. Edward’s loving her didn’t change the fact that she’d lied to him and his family—or that she was a murderer.
She turned away, keeping her eyes from his as she answered. “Sir, if you think to rob me of a proper proposal—with flowers and music and you down on one knee—you are sadly mistaken. Now, I really must return to my rooms.”
She twisted agilely and pulled out of his arms. He made no move to hold her. Believing he was finally agreeing with her, she pushed back the covers and started to slip out of the bed.
The next heartbeat she was spread-eagle on the sheets, pinned under Edward’s body. Grinning, he leaned down and whispered against her ear. “And if you think I’m going to let you out of here without an answer, you are the one who is sadly mistaken.”
He nuzzled her neck, scorching her flesh with moist, unhurried caresses. Rina bit back a gasp. The man was a complete scoundrel when it came to getting his own way. Her eyes drifted shut and the sweet ache built inside her. “My lord…you are not…playing fair.”
“I play to win, my darling. And I mean to win you. But for now I will settle for a ‘Yes’. We can discuss the particulars when I return.”
Her eyes flew open. “You are leaving?”
“I still have business in Truro to attend to.” He took her face between his hands, and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “Don’t look so bereft. I will only be gone a few days. Now nothing could keep me from returning to Ravenshold…and you.”
By the time Edward returned she and Quinn would be long gone, and Edward would be cursing her name. She closed her eyes, concealing a despair that she could never let him see. “I love you.”
Sighing, he leaned his forehead against her. “I know you do, sweetheart. But I also know that your clever little mind has more twists and turns than a rabbit warren. I want a straight answer before I leave.” He lifted his head, and stared down at her with an intense gaze. “Will you marry me?”
She saw the uncertainty in his eyes, the edge of the despair that had almost destroyed him after his wife left. He needed her as much as she needed him. Rina swallowed. He loved her. He might even love her enough to forgive her deception and marry her. But she was still a murderer. She could not have him tying his heart to a criminal. Even if they tried to keep it a secret, the truth would eventually come out. And the scanda
l would destroy him and everyone else at Ravenshold.
She looked up into his rugged face, studying every cherished line and beloved hollow, branding the memory on her heart. Then she gave him the only promise she could. “I shall never marry anyone but you.”
His smile lit the room like the sun.
She wove her fingers through his hair, pulling him down against her open mouth in a fierce, desperate caress. Her sudden passion surprised him, but his startled exclamation changed instantly into a growl of pure lust. They rolled on the sheets, their limbs and hearts tangled together in a love so hot that it nearly melted their souls. She gave herself to him completely, loving him with her body the way she could not with her words. In strokes and groans and fiery kisses she recited her silent marriage vows. And afterward, when he’d drifted into an exhausted and blissful sleep, she brushed a cherishing kiss across his lips, and slipped out of his arms forever.