by Gill, Tamara
“Miss. Knight. I do apologize for this intrusion. I have news from Berkshire that I thought you might be interested in hearing. Being a fellow land owner as you are,” he lied. Willing to say anything to have her come downstairs to talk to him.
“Thank you, John. I shall see the duke in the library. We’re not to be disturbed.”
The servant bowed and left them. Tate waited at the base of the stairs for Ava before he escorted her into the library. He went ahead as Ava closed the door behind them, and grinned at the snip of the lock that sounded loud in the room. “What are you doing here, Tate? If you’re caught by the viscountess we’ll both be ruined.”
“I noticed your absence at the ball this evening and when your friends mentioned a megrim, I was concerned. I could not rest before I saw for myself that you were well.”
Ava joined him before the fire. “You were worried about me?”
He smiled, pulling her against him and holding her close. “You know I would be.”
She clutched him back and looking up, Tate’s heart did a little thump in his chest. She was so beautiful in her day gown, no ornaments or rouge upon her cheeks that a lot of the women of the ton were so fond of. Ava looked like a woman who’d been enjoying a night at home, reading or simply relaxing in her room. Her long dark locks sat about her shoulders and he itched to run his hand through them, feel their softness and sweet scent.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.
She nodded. “I never had a headache, I wanted a night to myself, but I’m happy to see you.”
Tate liked hearing such words. He liked seeing her as well. Could imagine many nights such as these, together, alone where they could talk, simply enjoy each other’s company, just as they had as children.
“You said you had something to tell me about Berkshire and Lord Oakes?”
He grinned. “I don’t have anything to import. I simply wanted to see you again.”
“You did?”
“I did,” he said.
Her sweet voice did odd things in his chest. He leaned down and kissed her, took her lips and tried to import with all his heart how much she meant to him. Ava went willingly into his arms, her fingers slid over his shoulders to wrap about his neck. Her breasts pushed against his chest, her pliant, womanly curves drawing him in as they always did.
Tate leaned down and swooped her into his arms, picking her up and carrying her to a nearby chair. He sat, placing her onto his lap so she straddled him. He kissed her hard, licking her bottom lip, tracing the sweep of her mouth, unable to get enough of her. So soft and willing and the word mine reverberated about in his head. She opened for him and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, and he moaned, fire igniting his blood.
Ava broke from the kiss, her breathing as ragged as his and for a moment they stared at one another. Emotions crashed through him watching her wide brown eyes stare at him in wonder, realizing that they affected each other the same. It should not surprise either of them it had always been like this. The first time they’d kissed under a large oak tree, they had both come away from that embrace forever changed, linked by some invisible tie that, even as young as Tate had been at that time, he’d known. She was meant to be his, forever.
He ran his thumbs across her cheeks, holding her face before him. Ava shuffled on his lap, placing her heat hard upon his. She sighed, rocking against him, her hot core tempting him to rip open the front of his breeches, and seal them together.
Tate shook with his denial to do exactly what they so obviously wanted. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he reminded himself where he was. That he’d entered the room and had not locked the door. An oversight on his behalf.
“I should go. If the viscountess comes home there will be hell to pay,” he said between kisses. “I do not want trouble for you.” Not that he would not marry Ava tomorrow, but she did not need the ton to shun and talk about her if they did find out about their tryst. His marriage to Ava would be because they wished it to be so, not because the ton thought he’d ruined her in some way and was forced into the union.
“I don’t want you to go,” she protested, in a tremulous voice. Taking his hand, she pushed it down to lie against her sex. Her wet cunny greeted him and he hardened to steel. He would not deny her, them both, not when she wanted this as much as he. Tate ran his fingers along her core, eliciting a sweet gasp from her lips. She pressed down on his hand, her eyes turning deep amber with flecks of fire in them.
“I want you, Tate!” She kissed him hard. “You make me crave you so much.”
Tate moaned as her hand slid down his abdomen, taking pains to caress the contours of his stomach before delving further and wrapping itself around his engorged cock. “You make me want you too,” he rasped, breathless.
Her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his breeches and then she was touching him, sliding her clever hand about his cock, a steady stroke that sent stars to flicker behind his eyes.
Ava shuffled closer and kissed him. “I saw in a book a position like we are now. Do you…do you think,” she continued, “that such a position may be possible for us?”
What types of books was she reading? He wanted to know more. He left that question for another time, too distracted with her movements upon his lap. If he were at all a gentleman he would give her some days’ grace before they made love again, but such an option was impossible when her penetrating stare all but begged him to fulfill her.
And he’d do exactly as she asked.
“You only need to ask.” He grinned and reached between them, gathering her gown and hoisting it about her waist. She lifted herself a little, helping him with his endeavor. Their movements were quick and desperate. The need to have her, fuck her and lay claim to the woman in his arms was too much. He positioned himself at her entrance, catching her sultry gaze.
Tate thrust hard into her as she slid down over his length. Her tight core wrapped about him and he sucked in a breath at the sheer exquisiteness of having her again. They rocked together, her arms circling his neck, her fingers clawing into the skin on his back. He pumped hard and deep, wanting her to shatter in his arms, to come apart with him.
She was his, now and forever, just as he was hers. How could it not be so when each time they came together it was simply right? After all the years apart, still, they had found each other again.
Ava pushed him against the back of the seat, her hands clasping the chair. Tate reveled in watching her take control, finding her own pace to take pleasure from him. She was utterly marvelous, and he clamped down his need to spill inside of her. He reached between them, sliding his fingers against the little nubbin at her core. A half gasp, half moan escaped her lips and he gasped.
“Come for me,” he begged, so close that temptation licked his every thrust.
Her movements became desperate, and he clasped her hips, guiding her deeper, harder each time she came down upon him. Her fingers clasped his nape, sliding up into his hair and he knew she was close. Her eyes fluttered shut, the slightest perspiration on her upper lip that he ached to lick.
“Oh, Tate.” She threw her head back as spasm after spasm clenched about his cock, pulling him along into climax. Tate came hard, following her into bliss where he wanted nothing more than to do it again. He fought to catch his breath, to come back to reality after taking his fill. She slumped against his chest, her breathing warm upon his shoulder. She turned her head, kissing his neck and he shivered with renewed need.
He would never tire of the woman in his arms.
“However are we going to stop?” she giggled and he wrapped his arms about her, holding her close.
He kissed her forehead, catching her gaze. “I have no idea,” he said, truthfully. And he did not, but nor did he wish to.
“I should feign a megrim more often, if you’re my remedy.”
Minx! He chuckled, holding her still and with little desire to move her from his lap. “It i
s only fair that I’m your cure, for you’ve always been mine.”
Chapter 14
Some days’ later Tate rode hard on the road out of London heading toward Berkshire. He’d finished up his work with his steward earlier than he had anticipated and with any luck he would catch up with Ava’s coach.
He smiled at the thought of her. How much he missed her when they were apart.
The Ugly Swan Inn came into view a little way ahead, and he slowed his horse’s pace as he started through the outskirts of the small village. People milled about the town going about their business. The Inn was busy with an array of carriages and people unloading and loading the equipages.
Halting in the Inn yard, a young stable lad ran out, and getting down, Tate handed the boy a shilling. “Tell me lad, is a Miss. Ava Knight and her party still here or have they moved on?”
The young boy’s eyes widened and nodding excitingly, he said, “Aye, they’re still here, my lord. They’re inside this past hour and have taken rooms so me pa says.”
“Thank you,” Tate said, dismissing the boy and his use of my lord instead of your grace.
He opened the Inn’s front door and entered what looked to be the front tavern area of the establishment. It was filled to the brim with travelers and local folk from the looks of their dusty, crinkled and workworn clothing. Tate walked up to the counter and slid a sovereign across the bar. “I need a room for the night. I also need to know where Miss. Knight is located within your premises so I may make my presence known.”
The barman, a rotund, graying sort of man raised his brow, crossing his arms across his belly. “And who may you be?” he asked. Tate had to give him credit for asking instead of telling anyone of Ava’s whereabouts when money was offered.
“I am the Duke of Whitstone.”
The barman’s eyes widened and he straightened, attempting to bow to him. “The party that ye enquire about is currently having a repast in the front private parlor, Your Grace. I will have my best chamber prepared for ye at once. ‘Tis the first door on the left as ye go upstairs.”
“Thank you,” Tate said, starting for the room.
He knocked twice and opened the door to find Ava alone at the table. She sat in the sunlight with the Times paper open before her. She looked up and surprise registered on her face, before she placed the paper down and started toward him.
“Tate, whatever are you doing here?”
He shut the door and caught her up in his arms. “Two days was too long.”
She smiled and kissed him and he took her lips, drank from them as if she were his last hope of quenching his thirst.
Ava melted against his chest and the feel of her breasts, her nipples hardened peaks through her soft cotton traveling gown made his blood race in his veins. He kissed her deep and long, hoisted her up against his person and left them both breathless.
“Damn, I want you,” he gasped through the kiss.
“Are you staying the night?” she asked him in turn.
He’d stay forever if only she’d allow. “I have a room.” He held her close, not wanting to let her go. “Would you care to join me?”
She threw him a wicked look that sent his blood to boil. “I will have to tell Hallie what I’m doing or she’ll worry. But I’m sure she won’t mind.”
The door opened and in walked her friend as if by saying her name aloud Ava had summoned her. She started seeing the duke holding her friend in a most inappropriate way. She entered quickly, before closing the door just as fast before anyone saw them.
Tate gently set Ava away from him and smiled at the light blush that stole over her cheeks. Ava went to sit back at the table and Hallie joined her not saying a word. Tate sat also, and picking up the pot of tea he poured himself a cup.
Hallie glanced back and forth between them, before sighing. “What are you two doing? You’re not married or engaged and yet I walk in here, in the middle of a busy country inn and find you both in each other’s arms.” Miss. Evans reached for the bread and cheese, placing a good portion on her plate when neither of them ventured to answer. “Oh, and by the way, the dowager duchess has just arrived.”
“What?” Both he and Ava said in unison. Tate stood and walked to the window, looking out onto the Inn yard. He inwardly swore at the sight of his mother and Lady Clapham organizing help with their luggage, a bevy of servants doing the duchess’ bidding.
He looked down at Ava just as she caught his eye and he read the wariness that entered them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that my mother was traveling home today.”
She clasped his arm, squeezing it a little. “You have nothing to apologize for, Tate.”
His mother entered the inn, and within a moment there was a quick knock on the parlor door before she walked in with her companion. His mother took in the room and the occupants and gave a dismissive sniff.
“Tate, my dear, why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving for Berkshire today, I would’ve ensured there was room for you in the equipage.” His mother sat at the table after the servant who opened the door for them pulled out a chair for her grace.
“I did not know you were traveling for one. Second, I have my horse.”
Lady Clapham caught Tate’s eye and smiled up at him all but ignoring Ava and Miss. Evans who sat at the table across from them.
“Will you escort us to Berkshire in the morning, Your Grace? With the man terrorizing the county lighting fires, or so I heard, it would settle both mine and your Mother’s nerves if we had a protector at our side.”
Miss. Evans smiled and Tate understood very well as to why. Lady Clapham’s tone oozed sin, even with his mother’s presence, and Tate didn’t miss that Ava’s hands had fisted about the paper she was holding.
“Of course, I shall escort you to the dower house, Mother. I had word only yesterday that it is ready for your arrival, fully staffed just as you like things. And if I may be so bold, Miss. Knight, Miss. Evans, I can escort you also if you’d like to travel with us.”
Ava looked between him and the dowager. His mother’s mouth had tightened up to a small pucker of distaste and it was not hard to know what she thought of the idea.
“We would like that, Your Grace,” Miss. Evans answered when Ava remained quiet.
“If you’ll excuse us, Your Graces, Lady Clapham, we’ve traveled a long way today and I think I’ll rest before dinner.”
Tate moved out of the way to allow Ava to move past him. He reached down and slid his hand against her fingers as she walked past. She didn’t respond, merely left him alone with his vexing parent.
He ground his teeth for the forthcoming discussion to be had. Damn he was sick of his mother’s interfering, rude ways. He’d warned her to keep her tongue in check, and yet still, she persisted to be insolent.
“I see Miss. Knight is still chasing your coat tails, Tate dear. She’ll get a reputation if she’s not careful.”
“Miss. Knight was already lodging here when I arrived. So maybe it’ll be I who gains a reputation.” His mother threw him a quelling glance and he raised his brow. “You don’t agree, Mother?”
“I care not what Miss. Knight does in her own time, so long as it does not impinge or bring scandal to the Duke of Whitstone’s doors.”
“Like it almost did five years ago? You do realize, do you not, Mother, that I was the one who proposed to Ava and begged her to run away with me to Gretna? It was not the other way around, no matter what you may think.”
Lady Clapham’s mouth gaped open, and Tate took a calming breath, knowing that what he’d just declared would be all over London before the month was out, thanks to Lady Clapham. Not that he cared. All of the gossiping vipers could go hang.
“If you aspire for me to marry a woman of rank, such as her ladyship present, you are sadly deluded. The woman I marry will be of my choosing. Apologies, Lady Clapham for the bluntness of my tongue, but my mother has an uncanny ability to ignore people’s wishes and decrees.”
The dowager
placed the teacup down with a clatter, spilling a little of the contents over the side on to the saucer. “Ava Knight will never be the Duchess of Whitstone. I forbid it.”
“Why are you so against her?” he asked, truly baffled. “Mr. Knight was a gentleman and therefore his daughter is a lady. There is little to dislike from your perspective, I would think.”
His Mother rolled her eyes, not something he’d ever thought to see a duchess do before. She stood, rounding on him. “They’re common. Her great-grandfather lived in one of the ducal tenant farms before he started horse breeding as a hobby. Please think about that. If you were to have children with this woman, your future son and heir would have a great-grandfather who was a servant in your own home.”
Tate had heard enough. He ran a hand through his hair before walking to the door. “How fortunate for father that he did not care for such rules, considering your own heritage, Mother. Common Americans who had money. That was your only claim to some sort of greatness, was it not? In my eyes you’re no different to Miss. Knight in that sense, except with Ava, she has a heart beating within her chest. I highly doubt you have one at all.”
His mother gasped, and Lady Clapham paled. In time Tate might regret the harshness of his words, but today was not that day. “I shall come and see you the day after we arrive back at Berkshire to ensure you’ve settled in at the dower house. Good afternoon, Mother. Lady Clapham.”
Chapter 15
Father is unwell, but has insisted I stay in France. He says it’s just a trifling cold, but there was something in his written words that sent a shiver down my spine. I feel like he’s hiding something from me. Dread has curled in my stomach today and I cannot shake it.
– An Excerpt from a letter from Miss. Ava Knight to the Duke of Whitstone
Two days after arriving home from London, Ava stood at the stable doors with her stable manager, Greg, as Titan’s groom walked the stallion around the mare they wanted him to cover. Today was the day they would see if Titan liked what he smelled when it came to Black Lace.