by Brooklyn Ann
“I cannot sleep with you this day,” he said as he handed her the crock of water.
Her head tilted to the side, disappointment glittering in her eyes. “You can’t?”
He spread his arms helplessly. “There is no shelter from the sun in here.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Can’t you find another cave?”
Justus tried to hide his equal disappointment. What he would give to “There are none nearby and it’s nearly dawn. I found a dried up well. I can burrow in there.” He thought of the doe he’d fed on and the possibility of wolves, those on four legs as well as two. “Don’t stray far from the cabin and keep the blunderbuss close.” He found a rotting chair in the corner and ripped it to pieces, providing both firewood and an outlet to his frustration. “Keep the fire well fed.”
She nodded and took the blanket from the pack. His heart ached to know that she’d spend a miserable day sleeping on a hard floor in damp clothes. Worry gnawed at him at the feverish glaze in her eyes. Though the rain had chilled her, surely she couldn’t have fallen ill so quickly. Then the obvious became apparent. She was likely suffering a bit of a shock from being returned to the world. After years of isolation, all this fresh air, the bustle of encountering other people and villages and enduring such a hazardous journey had to have jarred her senses.
Before he did something foolish, like carry her to the well, he bent down and kissed her. “I will see you at dusk.”
He would do better tomorrow, he vowed. His Bethany would not spend another night or day in a mouldering crypt or wretched hovel. She wouldn’t be raiding a garden for radishes and wanting to boil turnips either. Somehow, some way, he would secure a full hot meal and a warm bed for her.
Chapter Twenty-one
Bethany tried to hide her proud smile as she stirred the crock with a stick she’d whittled with a knife she’d found in the pack. The turnip, spinach, and wild onions made a semblance of a stew. What made it truly good were the morel mushrooms she’d found growing behind the ruined cottage. Those had been her favorite, when Cook had served them sautéed with venison. After hours of shivering on the hard floor in the gray morning in a disquieted sleep, she’d awakened fairly early in the afternoon, expecting a dull and lonely day waiting for Justus, but instead the hours had flown as she’d ventured outside to gather firewood and whatever else she could find.
The rain had quit sometime in the early morning, so she’d savored the feel of the sun on her face as she tried to forget her disturbing dreams of being back at Morningside Asylum. The dream had seemed so real, with her sitting up in her cot in the cell, awaiting Doctor Keene’s approach. Only in the dream, she hadn’t been frightened. Instead, she was almost… eager.
That had frightened her enough to wake up.
The shivers she’d experienced upon wakening abated. Who knew when would be the last time she’d feel the sun’s warmth? Finding dry wood had been difficult, but the discovery of the morels lightened her frustration.
With muttered curses and luck, she built the fire up enough and made a sort of cooking rack for her crock. By the time her pilfered vegetables and found mushrooms were sliced and simmering in the crock and everything else was gathered in the pack for their journey, Bethany was sore from her efforts, but satisfied to have finally done something for herself. Just wait until Justus saw the proof that she was capable of more than being a helpless creature.
She frowned at the darkening doorway. Why did he insist on not allowing her to do anything to help their predicament? Irritation gnawed at her for him denying her offer to get wood last night along with hurt as his refusal to feed from her. She could help him. She wasn’t starving and weak. She had made her own food.
The stew wasn’t nearly as appetizing as she’d liked. And nearly impossible to eat without a spoon. Bethany ended up spearing the chunks of turnip and mushrooms with the stick she’d used to stir them and chewed resolutely, though the turnips could have been boiled longer. Her stomach ached, but she forced the repast down anyway.
“Well,” Justus said as he strode into the hovel. “I didn’t know you’d learned to cook.”
She chuckled, nearly choking on a bite. “Learning would be the proper word. This needed spices and Cook’s other concoctions, but at least it was filling and I managed to make it myself.” She gave him a pointed look and finished chewing.
His admiring gaze warmed her all over. “I promise you’ll have better fare tonight. I have an idea.”
Curiosity welled within as she took one last sip of the soup and dumped the rest on the fire to douse it. “What is it?”
“I do not wish to risk disappointment.” He took her now dry cloak and settled it over her shoulders before putting out the rest of the fire. “But we do need to hurry.”
“Are you strong enough?” she asked, rubbing her aching back.
He nodded. “There was food in the forest for me as well. Deer, not rats.”
When he lifted her in his arms, Bethany curled against his body, feeling as if that was what she’d been missing all day. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on his heartbeat as he ran through the forest with his impossible speed.
Gradually, the woods cleared out and more farmlands came into view. Justus passed those swiftly and stopped near a manor house just as the rain began falling once more.
“Halfax,” he said, studying the crest.
Bethany blinked, recognizing the name. “One of my father’s biggest rivals in parliament.”
Justus smirked. “Do you suppose he is at home?”
She shook her head. “They always go to Bath this time of year. I remember because Mother wants to go in the Spring, but Father refuses her because he doesn’t want to encounter Lord Halfax.”
“Splendid.” He extended his arm and led her down the drive.
“What are you doing?” she whispered as Justus knocked on the front door.
“You’ll see.” Justus’s grin broadened as a tired-looking butler answered. “I apologize for my late arrival, but Lord Halfax said I would be welcome any time.”
“His Lordship is away,” the Butler droned.
“Yes, I know.” Justus infused an aristocratic clip in his voice. “I spoke with him while my Lady wife was taking the waters. We’re on our way to visit her family in Wales, you see, and my good man Halfax said if we passed this way, we could stay the night.”
The butler’s eyes narrowed. “And who might you be?”
“Viscount de Wynter.” He gave the slightest of bows, which Bethany echoed with a curtsy. Her knees seemed to creak as if unaccustomed to bending like that. She watched as Justus leaned forward and captured the butler’s gaze. “But you will not remember that. Now awaken your head housemaid and cook. My wife requires supper, and we both need hot baths and a room.”
Bethany watched, jaw agape as the butler bowed and did exactly as told. Moments later, they were led to a sumptuous guest chamber and given hot baths before a sumptuous meal was served in the dining room. Justus also wore a fresh set of clothes, a snowy linen shirt and a bottle green tailcoat with matching trousers. He’d disdained a neckcloth and she couldn’t stop peeking at the glimpse of his bare chest.
“I cannot believe you’ve done this.” Bethany whispered as she wiped the crumbs of cobbler from her lips. “Tricked our way into a nobleman’s home. Was it wise to give him your true name?”
“The Lord of Rochester apparently did not announce my exile to the Elders or the other Lords, so my identity is safe for the most part. Besides, my Lady deserves better than another night out in the rain,” Justus said, sipping his wine.
“I wish you wouldn’t refer to me as such,” Bethany replied a little more curtly than she meant. She softened as Justus looked at her sharply. “I did not mean to take such a churlish tone. It’s just that in my perspective, Ladies are delicate creatures, shielded from the realities of our world. After all I’ve endured, I’m certainly no longer sheltered and naive. And I’d like to think I’m not comple
tely helpless, that I can contribute to our endeavors.”
Justus stared at her with something akin to shock. “I never meant the word to imply that you’re to be hidden from the world. I am so sorry if I’d given you such an impression.” The sincerity in his voice warmed her all over. “When I refer to you as my Lady, I mean that I see you as the woman I value most in the world, my counterpart, my companion in literary exploration. I may never be able to truly live as Lord de Wynter again, but you will always be my first choice as Lady de Wynter, for I’ve never met a woman with more strength and wit than you.”
“Oh,” Bethany said quietly, overwhelmed by his passion. “That is a much better interpretation, and I apologize for assuming you meant something different. However, I do wish you would stop perceiving me as helpless. I am indeed grateful for all you’ve done for me, but I would much rather that allow me to help you. Teach me how to build a fire, to catch a fish so I may feed myself. Allow me to mend your clothes. Let me feed you when you are hungry.” Maybe if she had something useful to do, her increasing sense of unrest and nightmares about Morningside would abate.
His eyes glowed with said hunger. “Bethany,” he said hoarsely, “We’ve discussed this.”
“I am no longer weakened from my captivity, Justus.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “You’ve kept me well fed. But you are weakened if you go too long without blood. You should allow me to donate mine, so we may be stronger together.”
His blazing eyes searched hers so thoroughly that she shivered. “I will think about it, though there is food aplenty for me here. Tonight, I hunger for something else.”
“What?” She licked her lips, hoping it was the same thing she craved.
“To see the library.” A gleeful smile curved his lips.
Only a flicker of disappointment glinted in her mind before elation chased it away. “Heavens! I didn’t think of that. Of course a house such as this would have a library!” And reading would settle her jangled nerves. Pushing her chair back, she rose in tandem with him, her desire for kisses momentarily quenched by longing for books.
Like children on Christmas, they approached the library with giddy eagerness. The Halfaxes’ collection surpassed their most fervent imaginings, with floor to ceiling shelves lining a cavernous room. Three fireplaces were arranged in the chamber to provide optimal warmth in the winter. Justus lit the gas lamps to further illuminate the gleaming shelves, embossed book spines, and sumptuous furnishings.
“Oh, Justus,” Bethany breathed. “Look at all of those books.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes at the beautiful sight.
“We have all evening to read,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Furthermore, I wager that if we borrow a few, they won’t be missed. The Lord and Lady of the house will be too busy searching for missing gold and jewels when they hear of their unexpected visitors.”
Bethany tried to feel guilty about what amounted to theft, but the lure of stories and verses she’d long been denied made her welcome the idea. “Besides,” she added. “We can always send them back once we are settled.”
That assuaged the last vestiges of remorse as they explored the library, reveling in the smell of the books nearly as much as their contents. A joyous cry escaped her lips when she found a work of Chaucer’s that she’d never read before.
Together, they curled up on the largest chaise she’d ever seen and read aloud to each other, pausing once in awhile to discuss the meaning of a particular passage.
Bethany rested her head on Justus’s chest, more content than she may have ever been in her life. A slight, balmy breeze blew in from the window he’d opened, bringing forth the scent of the warm spring night. His heartbeat pulsed against her ear and delicious heat spiraled in her belly at the feel of their bodies pressed together.
She lifted her chin to gaze at him, enraptured by the strong line of his jaw, his brilliant eyes, and sculpted lips. “Justus?” she whispered. “I know it is not ladylike for me to ask, but I very much would like for you to kiss me again.”
Those sensuous lips of his curved in a smile that made her belly flutter. “See, you are my counterpart, for I was just going to do just that.”
He lowered his head, those silken red locks of his hair caressed her face before his lips came down on hers, fervent and sweet. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth to slide over hers, Bethany gasped at the new sensation. Her hands tangled in his hair as her body curled to meet more of his.
Justus broke the kiss, but her whimper of disappointment changed to a moan of desire as he trailed kisses down her jaw before nibbling on the sensitive place between her shoulder and neck. The heat in her belly spread to the juncture between her thighs, making her hips arch against his. The hardness she felt pressing into her leg turned the heat into a throbbing ache and she longed to feel it at the source of her need.
“Justus,” she gasped. “Please.”
“We shouldn’t,” he whispered against her ear, but didn’t pull away.
“Yes, we should.” She tugged his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers and ran her nails up his bare back. “I’m in a place I love with the man I love. I don’t want to experience this with any man but you.”
His head snapped up to look at her, eyes suddenly vulnerable yet full of hope. “You do love me?”
She laughed and cupped her cheek. “Of course I do, you silly vampire.” Her heart thudded against her ribs as the solemnity of the moment overwhelmed her. “Now please, Justus. Make me yours.” When he hesitated, she frowned. “Or am I too old now?”
His shoulders shook with laughter and he seized her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Not at all. I’m still nearly two hundred years your senior. When we first met, I felt guilty for my attraction to you after learning you were only seventeen. Now you are what, five and twenty?”
She nodded, relief washing over her that he did not think her to be on the shelf.
He continued, interspersing his words with kisses. “Now you are fully a woman… completely… perfect…” His hand slid down to cup her breasts. “…in all the right places.”
She arched her back at his touch, never imagining that someone grasping her bosom could feel so delicious. He then reached behind her back and unfastened her gown. As he undressed her, he kissed every inch of flesh he exposed. Bethany writhed beneath him, fumbling for the buttons on his shirt.
Once they were both naked, they paused for a prolonged moment, devouring the sight of each other. Kneeling above her, Justus looked like a mythological deity descended from Olympus, with his alabaster skin, lean, chiseled muscles, and nimbus of rich red hair framing his angelic face and emerald eyes. The sprinkle of freckles across his shoulders and the fine red-gold hairs on his body rendered her rapt with fascination.
“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed. Even the alarming length of his shaft— much larger than the diminutive members in Greek paintings— held its own allure.
He chuckled. “I’m a scrawny ginger. It is you who are exquisite. You’d make Botticelli weep. His fingers danced over her supine body, eliciting new delightful sensations she’d never imagined.
When he cupped her mons, his thumb sliding across the most tender part of her, Bethany cried out at the electric sensation and reached up to explore him. The combination of the silken softness of his skin and the steely hardness beneath its surface captivated her almost as much as his groans of pleasure when she stroked him.
“Enough,” he whispered and lay down, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’ll go mad if I don’t have you now.”
His weight atop her was more delicious than she’d imagined, a wonder of closeness. Bethany brushed his hair from his face, meeting his gaze in silent entreaty.
His eyes searched hers with silent entreaty. “Are you ready?”
She took a deep breath and shifted her hips beneath him, gasping at the feel of the tip of him brushing against her moist, sensitive flesh. “Yes.”
His hard length pressed against her e
ntrance. Bethany held her breath, ready, but wary of the culmination of their joining.
“I love you,” he whispered before sliding inside her just an inch.
Bethany twined her arms over his shoulders, feeling his heartbeat against hers. The feel of him was daunting, but not the bloody agony she’d heard of. “More,” she dared to whisper, wanting all of him.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “It would cause you pain.” But he did slide in a bit further before withdrawing and repeating the process. Gradually he increased the depth of his thrusts until Bethany felt swollen and aching with need. When at last he was fully inside her, she breathed a sigh of contentment, feeling somehow complete.
“I love you,” he repeated, remaining still yet holding her close.
“I love you too.” Her hips shifted to adjust to the feeling of fullness, which only brought forth a tempest of new sensations.
Justus’s breath hitched near her ear as he moved slowly within her, an intoxicating rhythm that rose to a drugging tempo. Bethany clung to him and wrapped her legs around his waist, crying out for more.
His hands slid to cup her buttocks, guiding her into an angle that made all of her sensitive points sing with pleasure. They rocked together in a rising dance that made all the new exciting sensations climb higher and higher.
The rising tide of intense sensations crested and spilled over in a flood of ecstasy. She cried out Justus’s name and he held her tighter, guiding her through the storm of his lovemaking. For what felt like the juxtaposition of eternity and mere seconds, she rode the wave of pleasure, before he growled and shuddered within her.
“My God,” he whispered, “I never expected it to be so intense.”
She nodded and they held each other in blissful silence until the sky began to lighten. Then Justus carried her upstairs to the room they’d been given and set to covering the windows before slipping in beside her in the curtained bed.