by Claudy Conn
Epilogue
A WEEK HAD gone by, and several things had occurred.
Farley’s body had been handed over to the local magistrate’s office, and Ally was given over to stand trial for his part in the abduction affair.
Mrs. Madison received Jules’s Stamford’s request to court her daughter with great pleasure and he had been busy all week doing just that.
Star was happy for Georgie and wondered just where she stood with Sir Edward.
He had not applied to her brother for her hand and although he had been a constant visitor, he had not tried even to kiss her. She realized of course that she was not looking her best. Her black eye had been healing and changing colors and that did nothing to help her appearance. Her ankle which had been badly bruised when she had taken the fall from Farley’s open fist still caused her to limp.
She looked up as the library door opened and saw Sir Edward standing there staring at her for a long moment.
Oh no, was he here to say good-bye?
He came forward, putting a hand out to stay her from moving off the sofa and came to sit beside her. His voice was a caress as he said, “Star.”
“Yes?” she peeped at him her heart full with hope for more.
“I have just come from a discussion with your brother,” he said with half a smile.
“Oh?”
“Indeed. I had hoped he would not find out until I told him, but apparently matters such as these move differently in a small town.”
“Matters? Told him?” This wasn’t what she thought he was going to say.
“I bought the mortgage to Berkley,” he said and eyed her pointedly.
She actually felt the color drain from her face. What did this mean? Was he indeed taking Berkley from them? “Oh?” she managed.
“Yes, it will be my wedding gift to you,” he said.
Her heart flipped and before it righted itself she reached out her hand and he took it to fervently kiss her fingers while she stupidly said, “Don’t think you must…because you and I…because…”
He laughed, “Minx of a woman. I must because I don’t want to live without you in my life. I must because I can and because you love your brother and want him solvent again. My gift to you will be your gift to him.” He took her into his arms then and his kiss though gentle at first grew into something as passionate as she felt, as she knew he felt.
He stopped and leaned back to take her chin in his fingers, “Have I not shown you? Do you not know how deeply and completely I love you?”
“Ah, but you had not said it yet and besides, I had my doubts,” she dimpled at him. “After all, you did not even contemplate paying the five hundred pounds to gain my freedom!”
He laughed, “You are a she-devil. You are. No. I came faster than I thought possible to get you out of his hands…and I still wasn’t fast enough.”
His face, his eyes were grim and she touched his cheek, “No, how can you say that? Your timing was perfect.”
“I couldn’t bear it, thinking of you at his mercy and then when I saw you…bruised and…”
“Hush. It is over. We have much better things to think about, but tell me, would you have paid if you found no other way?”
He eyed her mischievously, “If I had to.”
“Oh, you are the devil, not I,” she said and laughed as she snuggled against his chest.
The library door burst open and Vern said with a chuckle, “This is most improper, you two. You are only engaged and must obey the proprieties.”
“How do you know we are engaged? I might have said no,” Star said and giggled as she snuggled in Edward’s arms.
“Aha, there are some matters a man knows,” Vern answered grinning wide.
Miles Denning appeared at his back, took a sweeping look and said, “Aha, so that is how it stands. Right then, so be it. You know Star, if this chap doesn’t behave just as he ought, I am forever yours.”
“Indeed, mine and so many others,” Star laughed.
“Now, get out, all of you, for I mean to be alone with my future bride. We have a wedding to plan!”
An excerpt from Claudy Conn’s newest steamy regency release: MANDY
SHE SCRAMBLED TO her feet and there in the sunlight, her lively eyes bright with concern and her body in boys clothing so much more alluring than he had ever thought possible, this imp of a woman stood grabbing all his attention to the exclusion of all else.
He felt the frown bend his brows as he looked her over. Even in dirty breeches, even with dusty boots and a smudge across her cheek, the Sherborne creature was utterly devastatingly beautiful.
The duke was a man who adored women, their foibles, their mysterious ways, and their many faces. He loved the way they laughed and giggled. He loved their softness, their hearts, and their ability to deal with a world that set them as the ‘lesser gender’ when he had always known otherwise. Indeed, though he knew it was the male’s job, his duty, his pleasure to protect a woman from harm; in no way were they the lesser gender. His mother had taught him that because he had adored and observed her and his feelings for her had left him with a deep affection for womankind.
Thus, the duke became a man with a fondness for all women, all sizes, and all ages. They were an intriguing lot, full of charms and had a way of seeing the world that opened that same world for a man.
He had always thought perhaps that he loved women too much and that was why he had never wanted to get attached to just one. There were so many choices.
This woman standing before him had been loyal to her brother to the point of absurdity and he admired that in her. However, she had to be taught that this could not continue, if only to keep her safe.
He found himself fighting a mental war. He wanted in all sincerity, to protect her, even from herself and yet…he could not stop the sure desire rushing through his blood when he looked at her. What the bloody hell was that? He never bothered with innocent maids. His flirtations were always with women married for convenience and looking for diversion and the occasional widow.
His mind was lost in cogitation as they saw to their horses, but in spite of his mental resolve to keep her at arm’s length, he found himself breathing in the fresh soapy scent of her. She must have washed with freezing cold water, poor girl, he thought.
He stepped closer without knowing that he did so. She went very still, but she resisted when he tried to take the saddle and the end result sent her flying backward.
He hurried and with great concern, reached for and found her waist as he helped her up and she put out a hand to his chest.
It was with every ounce of strength that he set her aside and did not kiss her, for at that moment, it was the only thing he wanted to do, but he wouldn’t. How could he take advantage of her like that? He couldn’t…could he?
* * *
She moved toward him, and didn’t have far to go with only an inch between them. She put her hand to his chest and while on her toes, she closed her eyes.
She knew, absolutely knew he was going to kiss her.
His voice was near her ear as he said, “Is there something I can do for you, Mandy? Something no one else can do?”
She heard the tease in his voice and realized what she was doing and feeling like a childish fool, she landed back on her heels, as her eyes snapped open. What must he think? How could she have been so wrong?
“No,” she answered, turning away from him. “Why would you think so?”
“Why? You looked as though you were in need of er…attention,” he said softly. “Indeed, you seemed to be reaching for it.”
She felt the vibes in the air. It was as though something inside of him broke free as he spoke.
She turned back to him. She should run. Instead, she found herself in his arms, his touch impassioned, his head bent to hers as his mouth devoured hers and his tongue searched hers for a response.
She gave herself to that kiss. Her body melted into his, her tongue moved hesitantly at first and then as he took
over, she instinctively gave herself to his lead and the moment of erotic and primal sensation swept through her.
He was a rogue and a libertine and would forget her as soon as he walked away, but she didn’t care. She wanted his kisses. She wanted this feeling. She wanted the hunger he aroused in her. She wanted.
Why him? He was dominant and controlling and she was an independent young woman who liked to make her own way. She didn’t want or need a man forever taking control, yet she wanted this man and she wanted him to be the one to make love to her.
She would be one and twenty soon and had never been in love to the point of wanting a man to bed her, but she wanted this one to do just that. What was wrong with her? But it wasn’t wrong. It couldn’t be, because it felt right—so right.
Rules—men’s rules, never made sense to her. She had always felt men made rules to benefit men. Why shouldn’t she enjoy passion with a man?
She was entitled to this.
So many of her friends were already married and most of them had done a great deal more than kissing before they entered the blissful state of matrimony. It was time she lived a bit, wasn’t it? There was no saying that she would ever marry—not with the course she had taken. Her reputation now would be ruined because she broke her brother out of prison. No one would want her as a wife.
And then all these cogitations were for naught as once again, he set her aside and said, “I am a cad to take advantage of your unstable emotions.”
Her lashes fluttered before she repeated the words in her mind and finally said, “My unstable emotions?”
“Yes…here…lonely, worried…upset…I…”
“And what of your emotions? Are you lonely, worried or upset? Is that why you kissed me, for I tell you frankly, those emotions are not what prompted me to kiss you.”
He eyed her strangely for a moment and asked, “No? What then did?”
She was flushed and embarrassed, so instead of answering him, she wagged a finger at him and said, “Right, as though I am stable enough to know?”
Suddenly he was reaching for her, and he murmured, “May I rot in hell for this.”
Once again she was in his arms, but this time, it was a crushing embrace. It was as though he had been at war with himself and lost.
He lifted her off the ground as his mouth devoured hers and then as he set her feet back down, his hand traveled to cup her breast over her shirt.
He nibbled at her ear and then did the same down the length of her neck and she heard him whisper hoarsely and as though he said it against his will, “Delicious woman, I am lost in you.”
He was a duke. He was a London rogue who had been with countless women, she was sure and he thought her delicious? She was spelled by his touch, by his voice, by his words and she bent to his love-making, matching his desire with her own.
In his arms, she felt as though she was floating into a world of sensation. She wanted this to go on. She liked the feel of his body against hers, felt his manhood through his breeches as it pressed against his clothing and hers and knew a sure excitement, curiosity and a need for more.
And then all at once as though he could wait no longer, his mouth went once again to hers and parted her lips with his own.
Sir Owen’s kisses were nothing like these.
She felt the heat from her toes shoot straight to her brain and fry all logic with one fell swoop.
His tongue gently danced with hers, teased her response and seemed to move with intensity as though emboldened by her return of his passion.
She was hungry for more of this, more of him. More.
She thought of her friend Lucy telling her, that she would know when she was really kissed. Lucy had been right.
He tasted so good and her entire body was on fire. She knew that this was probably what it meant to be a wanton woman and did not care. His kiss was the kind that dreams were made of.
Everything all around them vanished.
All she knew was that they were alone, in each other’s arms. It was as though they were wrapped in a velvet sky and shooting stars exploded all around. Even with her eyes closed, she could see it all. There was only the two of them.
Her blood was bubbling in a way that made her want more kissing, more, more, more.
Then all at once, as though she had done something wrong, he set her away again and stepped back as though she were a red hot poker.
He stared at her as though she was something dangerous, something that had ensnared him, something he had to escape and he nearly stumbled as he stepped backward and hit the wall.
He put out a hand as though to ward her off and said, “Bloody hell, I don’t know what just happened, but I do beg your forgiveness. I have most certainly overstepped and…I apologize.”
She was unable to respond. She was embarrassed and hurt at his rejection. She turned away from him and said quietly, “Indeed, I would appreciate it, if you would just forget that this ever happened. I know I shall.”
His voice when it came sounded dry, stilted, “I have matters in town that require my attention.” He moved to his horse and set about tightening the girth.
She didn’t want him to go and felt a fool as she asked, “Oh, but don’t you want to wait for Ned and Chauncey?”
“I came only to bring you your horse,” he said and inclined his head as he led his outside and kept his eyes averted.
She stood at the makeshift barn door and sighed sadly as she watched him mount, and shift in his saddle.
“When will I…we see you again?” she asked trying to sound idle about it.
“Soon little one, soon,” he said and moved off a few paces. He didn’t look back as he suddenly rode off, and he rode off like the devil was after him.
She clasped her hands and told herself out loud, “You are a fool, Amanda Sherborne. A fool! He is sophisticated, he is experienced and has probably had the most beautiful women in all of London…and look at you. Just look at you, all dirty with hair and clothes a complete mess. Why would he ever want you? Kissing you must have been just awful for him to jump away like he did!” She gazed down at her brother’s clothes covering her body and wanted to cry.
And if you are looking for a paranormal regency, take a look at this from
Netherby Halls
She saw herself naked and lying across dark, smooth sheets …
TWO MEN STOOD at the curbing at the edge of the avenue, but only one of them stood out. It was as though the atmosphere around him glowed, and her heart actually skipped a beat and then made up for the offense by beating faster.
His beaver-skin top hat was set saucily on his head of black silky hair. His black cloak had been rakishly thrown back over one shoulder, revealing not only the cream silk lining but the breadth of his obviously muscular chest.
As Sassy’s gaze traveled up to his face, unconsciously a small breath of air left her lungs, swished up her throat, and escaped in an audible gasp.
He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, but more than that, he was the man who had been making passionate love to her in her dreams!
This was madness. This was … Before she could complete the thought, it happened. Only this time it was different. This time he was right there. He was nearby—the man of her dreams was standing only thirty feet away.
His blue eyes had suddenly locked with hers, and all at once she felt herself transported to another place.
It was a bedroom—and she recognized the bedroom, for she had been there many times in her dreams. It was as though she were in a theater shamelessly watching herself, watching him—watching, experiencing things she had no physical knowledge of.
She was a virgin, and yet in her dream she had been his intimately many times. Now, with him so near, she saw herself naked and lying across dark, smooth sheets.
He was bending towards her, his blue eyes glittering, his black, silky hair falling across and touching her breasts as he licked her nipple and then suckled there with expertise that sent her body
into a convulsion of pleasure. His fingers moved over her flesh, and she could feel herself clench with desire as he touched—
What … ? No! No—this was just schoolgirls’ talk coming back to haunt her. This had to stop. She had to stop. She tried to break with the vision. How could she know what it would feel like to have a man … how could she know?
And then she saw something in his eyes across the avenue that told her a fact she could not deny: she wasn’t having this illusion alone. He was as well. It was so real and not only for her—but for him also!
When he took a step into the street towards her, Sassy Winthrop ran as fast as her little walking boots could take her and escaped around the corner.
About Claudy Conn
Claudy Conn, a native New Yorker, now lives with her husband, Bob; their wolf, Cherokee; and Cherokee’s son, Rocky Man, who weighs in presently at 190 pounds.
She loves horses and riding and raised her ten-year-old gelding Southern Pride from the moment he was born. She also loves gardening, swimming, skiing, hiking, and travel—and of course, reading, writing, but no, she says, no arithmetic!
To get her monthly news, her reviews for all her new paranormal romances, and excerpts, come on and visit her at her website: http://www.claudyconn.com
To see pictures of Cherokee—and her shepherd-wolf son!—have a look at her Facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Claudy-Conn-Paranormal-Romance-Author/135826686471445