You Never Forget Your First Earl

by Ella Quinn

  “Very good, my lord.” His valet took his coat, hat, and gloves. “Shall I resume making preparations for our departure?”

  “Yes.” He wondered how quickly he and Elizabeth could hold the ceremony. “Arrange our journey for ten days hence. Make arrangements for us at the Three Cups.” A friend from Eton who was an officer with the 95th Rifles had recently written to say that transport from Harwich to either Ostend or the Hook of Holland was becoming increasingly difficult to find. He and his soldiers had waited over a week for a ship and a second week for the wind to be in the right quarter.

  Not only did Geoff not have the time to waste, but he didn’t like the idea of Elizabeth being on a ship filled with soldiers, horses, and who knew what else. It was a shame his father didn’t have a yacht. “Find a captain with a ship who is willing to sail up to the River Stour and anchor up the river from Harwich until he hears from me.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Nettle had taken out a pocket book and pencil and was making notes.

  “I want the ship far enough away so that she cannot be commandeered.” Geoff prayed they would not have to wait long for the right winds to make the passage to Holland. “I’ll write my father as well. He might know someone with a sailing vessel.”

  “Very good, my lord. I shall start on this first thing tomorrow.”

  And he would send more flowers—pink roses—to Elizabeth with a note telling her how much he was looking forward to their ride that afternoon and dancing with her that evening.

  Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite Geoff having arrived at the ball with Elizabeth and her family again, it seemed as if the Fates were once again against him. Every time he had tried to get Elizabeth alone, someone claimed her attention. To make it worse, the miscreant was usually a gentleman wishing to dance with her. He found himself almost growling at the last one. Unfortunately, until he had a commitment from her, he could not insist she stand up only with him.

  Finally, at the end of the first waltz, which had been much too late in the evening as far as he was concerned, Geoff took Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her behind the potted plants—fortunately, there were a row of them lining the wall of the ballroom near the French windows leading out to the terrace. “I need to speak with you.”

  Not the most romantic words, but he must remove her from the room without anyone seeing them. Once they’d made it out the doors, he hurried her to the end of the terrace where the only light came from wall sconces several feet away.

  Ivy climbed the brick wall, and an ornamental tree provided a distraction for anyone glancing in their direction. He drew her deeper into the shadows. Thank God no one else had decided to make an assignation here.

  Before she could catch her breath, he kissed her. Not the slow, seductive kisses he’d given her before, but one of possession. She gasped in surprise, and he swept his tongue into her mouth. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his, and he groaned, holding her tightly against him. Slanting his head, he deepened the kiss, and a little sigh of what he prayed was delight escaped from her.

  Elizabeth’s hands played with the hair at the back of his neck, and he moved his hands from her waist to her breasts, easing the tempting mounds out of her stays, feathering each of her nipples with his thumbs until they were furled buds.

  Geoff wanted her out of her clothing, naked and writhing beneath him. But he could only have that if she agreed to marry him.

  Moving one hand down to the top of her buttocks, he caressed her, thanking God for short stays. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  “The same thing you do to me? Touch me again.” She moaned as he rubbed her breast.

  He’d removed his other hand from her breast to bring her closer, wanting her to feel how much he desired her. Yet, she probably didn’t know what the hard rod she had to be feeling meant.

  Geoff moaned as his cock pressed against his breeches, wanting to be released. If only to save his sanity, he had to get this proposal over with. But as he eased back, she held him tighter.

  “Do not let me go.” As he’d done to her, Elizabeth pressed light kisses along his jaw.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “Then you should not have started kissing me.” She swept her hand over his buttocks—mimicking what he had done to her—and he wanted nothing more than to hold her against the wall and make her his in the most fundamental way he could.

  He’d planned to go down on one knee and ask her to marry him, but if he was on his knees now, he’d be under her skirts savoring her taste. Soon, he promised himself. “Elizabeth”—he kissed her neck and down over her chest to the tempting hollow between her breasts, and licked—“will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  She stilled as if she had not expected the question. He held his breath as he waited for her to respond. Finally, she reached up, placing her hands on his cheeks, and whispered, “Yes.”

  Thank God, thank the Fates, and any other being that held his destiny in its hands. “You have made me the happiest of men.”

  Geoff breathed a sigh of relief that Elizabeth had accepted his proposal. He’d never before worked so hard for a lady’s attention, and it would have devastated him if she had said no. Not only because he wanted her, but now his position with Sir Charles was secure. He was grateful he could make definite plans to leave for the Continent. They would need to marry and begin their journey to Belgium as soon as possible. Yet, to his surprise, overriding even his position was his increasing desire to make her his. He had never wanted another woman as much as he did her. His compulsion to touch Elizabeth was almost overwhelming.

  Geoff had to fight his desire to throw her over his shoulder and carry her out of the ball. It was all he could do not to take her up against the wall. He needed to bed her and soon. “The music has ceased. We should go back and tell your aunt and brother.”

  “I suppose we should.” She kissed him softly. “Before someone finds us.”

  Stepping back, he took a critical look at her and adjusted her bodice, fondling her breasts as he returned them to her stays and enjoying her sharp intake of breath and the look of desire in her eyes his attentions provoked. If only he could stroke her mons, he was sure she would be wet for him.

  “Do I look mussed?” Geoffrey asked as if he hadn’t done anything at all.

  Elizabeth’s breasts were heavy and swollen. Her nipples still tingled where Geoffrey had rolled them between his fingers when he covered them again. The throbbing between her legs was almost unbearable and her knees had turned to blancmange. She struggled to bring herself back under control while he caressed down her back and over her derrière. When had he become such a devil? She wished she was brave enough to caress him.

  “Elizabeth, sweetheart?” Geoffrey prodded, a wicked smile on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  Taking a breath, she straightened his cravat and ran her hand through his hair. “Not anymore.”

  Elizabeth placed her hand on Geoffrey’s arm. Her legs were still a bit unsteady. She did not know if it was from his caresses or the fact that she was finally sure that he loved her.

  He could not have said the things he did and kissed her that way unless he loved her. He had still not told her he loved her. That was what had made her hesitate before she had agreed to be his wife. Some men, her aunt had said, had trouble saying the words, but showed their love with deeds. Geoffrey could not be more considerate of her, and the way he kissed and touched her . . . There could not be anything better.

  She was glad her friends had told her what to expect, especially the kissing with tongues part, otherwise Elizabeth would have been shocked. As it was, she reveled in Geoffrey’s taste and the flames that coursed through her veins from her lips to the place between her legs. She had felt his hard length against her and was excited that he wanted her. And he had asked her to dream about him as he would dream about her. He must love her.

 
“Are you ready to go in?” he asked, continuing to touch her in small ways, as if now that he had started he could not stop.

  Elizabeth did not wish to rejoin the ball. She would much rather have remained out here all night. “I suppose we should tell my family that we will marry.”

  “And my grandmother and cousin.” In a matter of minutes, everyone at the ball would know.

  “Will they be happy about our betrothal?” She began to worry her bottom lip. Elizabeth supposed they might be expecting Geoffrey to offer for her. Yet, that did not mean they wouldn’t have liked another lady more.

  “I can promise you they will be delighted.” He caressed her cheek, running his thumb across her lips. “My grandmother was very taken with you.”

  That made her feel better. Elizabeth had never before considered how nerve-racking it was to be joining a new family.

  He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they strolled into the ballroom. After being in the dark, the candles glowing from the chandeliers and wall sconces made the room seem brighter than before. A few people turned their heads when she and Geoff entered the room. Two middle-aged ladies both wearing turbans adorned with feathers whispered to one another. And she fought the blush rising in her cheeks.

  They found Aunt and Gavin not far from the French windows. Had one or the other or both of them known what was going on?

  “Have you been strolling?” Aunt asked, looking closely at Elizabeth. Nothing though, not gossiping ladies or her aunt’s scrutiny, could dim her mood.

  “I have been proposing,” Geoffrey responded, a grin on his face.

  Just like that, their betrothal was suddenly real. Elizabeth smiled at him. She had never been so happy! “And I have been accepting.”

  Gavin raised his glass of champagne, and said in a loud voice, “Congratulations. May I be the first to wish you happy?”

  Any remaining doubts she felt left her as her brother called for more champagne and others gathered around to hear the news. Geoffrey was slapped on the back by some of the gentlemen, and a few of the ladies embraced Elizabeth.

  “When is the wedding?” Lord Endicott asked.

  She glanced at Geoffrey. It had to be soon. He looked at her, but did not answer. Right then, it was up to her. “As soon as a special license can be procured and an appointment with the vicar made.”

  There would be no time to have new gowns made. Fortunately, the pale colors of a lady just making her come out suited her. Other garments could be procured once she was on the Continent.

  Elizabeth had every faith Wellington would be successful and before long Napoleon would be in a prison of some sort. And she and Geoffrey would be living the life they wanted.

  “Harrington,” she heard her brother say in a low voice, “we must discuss the settlement agreement soon. If you will have your information sent to my solicitor, I am certain he can have the initial contract completed by tomorrow or the next day.”

  “My father must approve any contract,” Geoffrey said. “It would be better if you could send me your lawyer’s information. He knew I wished to marry, and I believe that he has sent his requirements to his solicitor. As soon as I have your lawyer’s information, I’ll attend to the matter.”

  “Certainly,” her brother agreed.

  Geoffrey turned his focus back to her. “We must find my grandmother and tell her before someone else does.”

  “I did not expect my brother to be so loud.” She winced. “That was not well done of him.”

  “I can’t blame him.” He squeezed her hand in a reassuring manner.

  As they were about to excuse themselves to tell his family of their impending marriage, she heard Miss Covenington’s dry voice. “I can only think of one reason there is such a crowd gathered around you.”

  “Are we to congratulate you?” his grandmother asked.

  “If you please, ma’am,” Elizabeth said, hoping Geoffrey was right.

  “In that case, I wish you the best,” Lady Markham said. “We will be able to discuss this at length when you visit me.”

  Elizabeth curtseyed and lied. “I shall look forward to it.”

  She did not know what it was about the Dowager Marchioness of Markham, but she scared Elizabeth to death.

  * * *

  The next day, Elizabeth changed her gown three times before deciding to wear the first one she had tried on. “I do not know why I am so nervous.” She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “It is not as if I haven’t met Lady Markham before.”

  “There’s no accounting for nerves,” her maid said prosaically. “Like as not, it’s that you’ll be part of her family soon.”

  “Yes, that must be it.” Or perhaps it was that she had made her decision, and her life was about to change dramatically and in very short order. “The pearls, I think.”

  Earlier her brother had written to their father informing him that Elizabeth and Geoffrey were to marry. Papa would be so happy that she had made a good match. She expected to find him back in Town no later than tomorrow afternoon.

  Today, Geoffrey was to apply to the Archbishop’s office at Doctors’ Commons for the special license and speak to the vicar at Saint George’s Church about the timing of the wedding. He had also planned to write to his father to instruct their family solicitor to contact Papa’s solicitor regarding the settlement agreements.

  She was busy as well. After writing to Lady Worthington—Elizabeth did not know exactly where her friends were at the moment—and asking her to inform Charlotte, Louisa, and Dotty of the wedding, Elizabeth had spent several hours with her aunt at the modiste. Unbeknownst to her, Aunt Bristow had arranged for the woman to begin making up a new wardrobe for her.

  “Once you are married,” she had said, “there is no reason for you to dress like a girl just out. A little faith and forethought was all that was needed.”

  “But I don’t understand how she could have sewn this many gowns in such a short time,” Elizabeth had replied after having her fifth dress fitted.

  “As your father will not be put to the expense of another Season for you, I decided he could well afford new clothing for your married life.” Aunt indicated that Elizabeth should turn around. “Aside from that, it is nearly the end of the Season, so not as many orders are coming in.”

  She briefly wondered if her father would agree that all these new garments were necessary, but he wasn’t there to object, and by the time he received the bill, she and her aunt would be gone.

  If last night had felt like she was living a dream, this morning Elizabeth felt as if she had been thrown onto the back of a runaway horse.

  “If you don’t stop fidgeting,” her maid said, “I’ll never get your hair properly done.”

  She wanted to say she wasn’t fidgeting, but it wouldn’t be true. “I’m trying.” Albeit not very successfully. “Just put it in a knot and be done with it. I cannot sit any longer.”

  Vickers stuck a comb in Elizabeth’s hair and clasped the pearls around her neck. “There.”

  She added a pair of earrings before her maid fitted a new bonnet on her head. A glance at the clock informed her that she still had several minutes before Geoffrey would arrive. “Have you ordered the trunks to be taken down from the attic?”

  “First thing this morning. They are in the next room over. You will need more than the two you have. Do you want me to have Mr. Broadwell make arrangements for their purchase?”

  “Yes, please.” She quickly reconsidered. “If you wish, you may visit the shop and select the trunks and other luggage you think we shall require.”

  A smile appeared on her maid’s face. “Yes, miss. I’d be happy to.”

  She hoped that the look meant Vickers planned to remain with Elizabeth. It would be nice to have one’s own servants with her. “You will come with me, won’t you?”

  “If you want me to. There’s nothing keeping me in England, and I think I’d like seeing something of Europe. Even if it’s only a little bit of it.”

/>   “I do want you with me.” It occurred to her that she was leaving everything she knew. She should discuss the possibility of being able to take her footman, Kenton, and her groom, Farley, with her as well. That way she would have three people she knew and trusted with her.

  Somewhere a clock struck the hour. Geoffrey would be here any moment. “I do not know when I shall return. It will be sometime before dinner.”

  “I’ll look into the additional trunks while you’re gone.” Vickers handed Elizabeth her gloves.

  There was so much to accomplish in such a short time. Elizabeth took a breath. She could do this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elizabeth was standing at the top of the stairs when her father’s butler opened the door to Geoffrey. As if he knew exactly where she would be, he gazed up at her and butterflies took up residence in her breast as his eyes met hers and he smiled.

  He had to love her the way she loved him. If only he would say the words. On the other hand, she had not told him how she felt.

  Geoffrey took her hand as she reached the bottom tread. “You are enchanting.”

  “Thank you.” His look and his touch warmed her in a way no one or nothing had before. “You look very handsome.”

  “I’m glad I please you.” He led her to the door. “I have a surprise for you after tea.”

  “Will you give me a hint?” He lifted her to the step of his phaeton, his large hands lingering on her waist.

  “I shall tell you that it is a tradition in my family.” He leaned forward, his lips close to her cheek. “I wish I could kiss you.”

  Tingles started from where he held her and spread through her body. “I would like to kiss you as well.”

  “Perhaps later.” He helped her the rest of the way onto the seat before going around to the other side and climbing in.

  Where did he think they would find a place to be alone to indulge in her new favorite pastime? They would be in his grandmother’s house and after that the Park. Granted, some people made use of the paths into the woods, but she was not sure she would wish to do something that daring. “I must confess that I am a little anxious.”