The Wayward Bride

by Anna Bradley

  “He’s refused to allow Grace to stay with Lady Juliana as long as she remains unmarried.”

  “But that’s awful, Hugh! How could he do such a thing to his daughter and his granddaughter?” The very idea made Isla furious. “If Lady Juliana doesn’t marry, what happens to Grace?”

  Hugh stiffened beside her. “Do you know Lord Cowden?”

  Cowden. Cowden. Isla rolled the name over in her mind. It wasn’t familiar, but she thought by Hugh’s disgusted tone he didn’t approve of the man. “No. Would he be a suitable guardian for Grace?”

  Hugh’s laugh was bitter. “In a word, no. That is, he’s respectable, and all the ton receives him, and Cowden also happens to be the eldest son of one of Lord Graystone’s oldest friends. Lord Graystone has known Cowden all his life, and he trusts him.”

  “But you don’t care for him?”

  “I do not, and neither does Lady Juliana. He’s a cold, ruthless man. As I said, he’s received in society, but there’s more than one whispered rumor about him. None of the gossip does him any credit, but a few of the rumors are truly alarming. Lord Graystone thinks the rumors are nonsense, but even if they’re only partially true, Grace can’t possibly go to Lord Cowden. To make matters worse, Cowden recently married Lady Jane Abbott—an heiress of impeccable bloodlines, of whom Lord Graystone heartily approves.”

  “So you’re to marry Lady Juliana, you’ll be appointed her guardian, and the two of you together can keep Grace,” Isla said dully. It made perfect sense, and naturally Hugh would do whatever he must to protect his sister’s child. There was no reason at all for her foolish heart to be sinking. This only made an already hopeless situation a bit more so.

  Beyond hopeless.

  “Lord Graystone has already promised to turn testamentary and common law guardianship over to Lady Juliana and me as soon as we marry. Grace will inherit a significant fortune, and he wants to see her affairs safely settled, but he also wants to see his youngest daughter married before he dies. I’d heard he had hopes of her becoming a duchess at one point. I’m not sure why she didn’t, but I believe he’s now holding Grace’s situation over Lady Juliana to compel her to marry.”

  Lord Graystone was purported to be a decent man? He didn’t sound so to Isla, but it made no difference what she thought, and even less difference what she wanted. Grace was the one who mattered, and Hugh was doing what he must to ensure her future.

  “I’m fond of Lady Juliana,” Hugh murmured. “She’s kind, intelligent, patient, and—”

  “Beautiful,” Isla put in, but it cost her a little stab to the heart to say it. She didn’t want to think of Hugh looking into Lady Juliana’s green eyes or running his long fingers through her fair hair.

  As if he’d read her mind, Hugh lifted a lock of Isla’s dark hair and brought it to his lips. “She’s all those things, and she adores Grace, but…but she’s not you, Isla. I’m in love with you.”

  Tears gathered in Isla’s eyes at the break in his voice, but they didn’t have time to fall before he turned her face up to his and brushed the sweetest kiss Isla had ever known across her lips. She cradled his face in her hands and deepened the kiss, and the room felt silent but for the crackle of the fire and the soft sounds of their mingled breaths.

  “I don’t know how I can let you go,” Hugh whispered, when at last they broke apart. He pressed his lips to her forehead, to her eyelids, to the tip of her nose and her chin, then brought his mouth back to hers for another lingering kiss. “I can’t, Isla. There must be a way—”

  “No.” Isla pressed her fingers to his parted lips before he could say anything more.

  There was no way. Sydney, Lady Juliana, and now Grace…

  Isla wanted Hugh with every breath in her body, but as much as she loved him, she would never ask that of him. He’d grow to resent her if he failed in his duty to his niece, and even if that didn’t happen, Isla could never live with knowing her happiness came at Grace’s expense.

  What had happened with James Baird—it hadn’t been her fault. She hadn’t had a choice in it, but this time, she did.

  She stroked her fingertips over Hugh’s lower lip. “No, Hugh. There is no way.”

  After a moment he nodded, because he knew as well as she did they couldn’t be together without breaking promises and possibly ruining lives. Other people’s pain was no foundation upon which to build a love.

  She took his face in her hands. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll take me back to Huntington Lodge.”

  Again, Hugh nodded, but even in the dim light, Isla could see the bleakness in his face, the anguish in his dark eyes.

  “But that’s tomorrow, and it’s still hours away. Stay with me tonight,” she whispered, and brought his face down to hers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A single night with Isla, in a lifetime of nights without her.

  She was still caressing his lips, so he clasped her wrist, brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed her fingertips, one by one. Perhaps it wasn’t honorable to steal one night with her when they were each betrothed to another, but Hugh didn’t let himself think about that now.

  They had one night together to create a memory that would have to last a lifetime.

  “The first time I spoke to you, I thought you were terribly proper.” Isla let her fingers drift over his face, as if she wanted to memorize every one of his features. “You scolded me for suggesting ladies should be permitted to walk down St. James’s Street. Do you remember?”

  “I remember. How could I not?” Hugh leaned over her to nibble at one corner of her lips, then the other. “I thought you a bold little thing, and I wanted to kiss your impertinent mouth.”

  “Did you, really? Why didn’t you do it?”

  Hugh tugged playfully at a lock of her hair. “You know why. Because your two enormous brothers would have pummeled me into the ballroom floor if I’d laid a finger on you.”

  She laughed. “Well, I would never have guessed you wanted to kiss me from the way you scowled at me. I recall you didn’t invite me to dance that night, and I very much wanted you to.”

  “Did you, indeed? Well, I never would have guessed it from the way you scowled at me.”

  She laughed again, clearly delighted. “I asked Hyacinth about you that night. She said you were the very definition of a respectable, proper marquess, and far too stern for me.”

  Hugh raised an eyebrow. “Well, that wasn’t very generous of her.”

  “No, not at all. She also said you should smile more, which I thought very funny, since she was clearly enamored of my brother Lachlan by then, and he never smiles.”

  Hugh tipped her face up to his and brushed a tender kiss across her lips. “I daresay he smiles more now.” He was married to the lady he loved. He had a great deal to smile about. “I wonder you ever agreed to dance with me at all, after Miss Somerset gave you such an uncharitable description of me.”

  “Oh, no. I told her I liked your stern countenance, and I said your frowns did wonderful things for your deliciously firm lips. She was quite scandalized.”

  “Deliciously firm lips? You told Hyacinth Somerset you thought I had deliciously firm lips?” Did ladies discuss such things? He never would have thought so, but Hugh was absurdly pleased to find Isla had admired his lips.

  “I did.” Isla traced a fingertip over his lips, then slid her hands into his hair, her own lips parting in invitation as she brought his mouth down to hers. “And you do.”

  With her fingers buried in his hair and her lips so temptingly close to his, there was nothing Hugh could do but kiss her again. He teased at the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She opened eagerly, and he nipped at her, his mouth growing more insistent as his desire surged.

  By the time they broke apart they were both panting, and Hugh’s lips weren’t the only firm thing about him. He kicked off his boots, tore off hi
s coat—he was still wearing his damn coat—and nearly ripped the buttons off his waistcoat in his haste to get it off. Once he’d stripped down to his shirtsleeves he reached for her, intending to take her into his arms.

  But she quickly raised a hand to his chest, gently holding him back. “I also told Hyacinth I thought you hid an unruly side under all that propriety, and you see, I was right about that, too.”

  Hugh glanced down at her hand, and he pulled back, confused. He knew she wanted him—he’d felt her trembling for him and heard her soft whimper of need when he’d been kissing her, but she seemed to be hesitating now. Had he been too passionate and frightened her, or—

  “It was only a few weeks afterward that I told Hyacinth I was in love with you. It was the same night you kissed me, in Lord Pomeroy’s library.” She laid a hand on his cheek, and there was no mistaking the tenderness in her eyes. “Hyacinth told me you weren’t the sort of gentleman who made a habit of kissing young ladies in dark libraries. She insisted if you had kissed me, you must be in love with me, too.”

  All at once, Hugh understood what she was doing. She was telling him the story of how she’d fallen in love with him, and asking for his story in return.

  He raised her hand from his chest and brushed his lips over her palm. “Hyacinth Somerset is very wise. I kissed you that night because I couldn’t bear not to, Isla. I’d wanted to kiss you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, and then every moment afterward. The night of Lord Pomeroy’s ball—the night we first kissed—I went home in a daze. Even then I knew a blue-eyed, dark-haired termagant with decidedly questionable opinions regarding proper behavior on St. James’s Street had crawled into my heart, and I’d never get her out of it again.” He eased her back onto the pillows and buried his face in her neck. “And you see, I was right, too.”

  A tiny, heartbreaking sob broke from her chest, and then she opened her arms to him. He gathered her tightly against him—so tight and close he could hear her choppy breaths and feel her chest heaving with emotion at his words.

  He stroked her hair and whispered to her. He told her he loved her. He told her he wished he could be everything to her. He told her no matter what happened after tonight, she’d always have his heart, and that he wouldn’t have traded these moments with her for anything in the world. Then he kissed her with all the tenderness and love he felt for her and prayed she’d feel it and understand everything he didn’t know how to say in words.

  She did. He felt it in her kiss and in the way she teased her fingertips over his skin. In the sweet arch of her body against his, coaxing him closer. Hugh accepted her invitation at once, teasing his way between her lips and devouring her hungry mouth until the passion that had always burned between them flared into blazing life.

  “Hugh.” Isla slid her hands restlessly over his back, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging as if she wanted to rip the linen from his body. She pressed her lips close to his ear, and he could hear the smile in her voice as she whispered, “Show me your unruly side.”

  Hugh laughed quietly, his lips curving against the fragrant skin of her neck. Had he any other choice? Everything about her—her skin, her hair, her scent—made him wild. They’d hardly even begun, and already his control was slipping from his grasp. “I want to show you everything, sweetheart.”

  He wanted to see everything, too—every inch of that creamy skin. Hugh stroked his fingertips down her neck, then slid his thumb under the short sleeve of her nightdress and bared her shoulder. His lips followed the path his fingers had taken, drifting over the soft skin of her neck. He nipped and played, his mouth lingering over the tops of her breasts. He could see the dusky pink of her nipples through the filmy white gown, and his mouth watered to taste them.

  He dropped a hot, open-mouthed kiss between her breasts before sliding lower to drag the tip of his tongue across her nipple. She gasped, so he did it again, just a quick swipe of his tongue—enough to wet the thin muslin and make her nipple strain for his mouth. “God, look at you.” He pulled back to admire her, heat pooling low in his belly at the sight of that taut pink peak, so eager for his touch. “So beautiful.”

  “Hugh, I…I want…”

  She trailed off with a soft moan as he stroked his thumb over her, letting the damp muslin drag across her nipple. “What do you want, sweet?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer, but bent over her other breast. He intended to tease her some more, but as soon as he felt that hard peak against his tongue, his control snapped. A low, tortured groan tore from his throat as his lips closed around her, and he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

  Isla jerked against him, her hips moving instinctively against his as her desire mounted. Hugh’s cock responded to the friction, hardening and lengthening against her thigh.

  “Take this off,” she demanded in a whisper, twisting his shirt in her fingers. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

  Hugh tore his mouth away from her breasts, dazed. Was he still wearing his shirt? He sat up and quickly dragged it over his head, then he searched under the coverlet until he found the hem of her nightdress. “Raise your arms.”

  Isla did as he bid her, and he drew the gown up and over her head.

  “Oh, Isla.” He groaned aloud when she was bared to his gaze. He’d imagined her this way so many times, her body under his, her nipples swollen from his lips, her dark hair loose and wild across his pillow, but nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful she was and how much he wanted her. “My God, I want to devour every inch of you.”

  Her gaze was moving over his chest, a small, pleased smile curving her lips, but at his words her heavy-lidded eyes met his. “Not until I’ve seen every inch of you.” She reached for him then and began to touch him. She explored his shoulders and arms, and stroked a fingertip over one of his nipples, her gaze darting to his face when he moaned at her touch. She slid her hands lower, down his body, lingering over his bare chest and stomach. “So hard and tight, and your skin is so smooth,” she murmured, seemingly fascinated as she took him in. “I never realized…”

  Her voice trailed off as her gaze came to rest on the hard length of him pressing against his breeches. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened as his cock jerked with anticipation against his falls. She caught a corner of her swollen bottom lip in her teeth as she watched it twitch and strain for her.

  Hugh groaned. Jesus, she hadn’t even touched him, and he was already so aroused he was in danger of disgracing himself before he ever got his cock out of his breeches. “Isla, let me…”

  His words dissolved into a choked gasp as she slid a finger under his waistband . Hugh threw his head back and prayed for control as she stroked him there, the tips of her fingers mere inches away from his aching erection.

  “Take off your breeches.” She tugged at his falls. “I want to see you.”

  Hugh shook his head. If he took his breeches off now, he’d lose control. “Not yet, sweetheart. First let me—”

  Isla didn’t want to wait. Before he could say another word, she’d unfastened the buttons of his falls. His swollen cock sprang out, and she cradled him in her palm. Hugh instantly squeezed his eyes closed to shut out the sight of her holding him in her dainty little hand.

  If I see that, I’ll come…

  But that seemed to be just what Isla wanted, because she began to move her hand over him with slow, tentative strokes. “Is this how I touch you? Tell me what you like.”

  His hips were already moving, but he forced himself to still and opened his eyes to gaze down at her. “Do you… Is this what you want, sweetheart?”

  She was staring down at her hand as she caressed his hard length. “Oh, yes.”

  Her husky, breathless voice was Hugh’s undoing, and he gave himself up to the inevitable. “Hold me tighter and stroke a little harder. Yes,” he hissed, when she wrapped her fingers more firmly around him and began to move her hand
in long, steady strokes. “Yes, sweet, just like that. Oh, God, you’re perfect, Isla.”

  He couldn’t hold still. His hips were moving again, thrusting his cock against her soft palm. He was close, so close, his spine tingling with his impending release…

  Then he came into her hand, shaking and moaning, the pleasure so intense he was dizzy with it. He dimly registered Isla’s soft gasp of surprise, his own panting breaths, and her hand still moving on him. Then the pleasure receded, and he collapsed against her, shuddering from his powerful release.

  When his body calmed at last, he opened his eyes and raised his head, half afraid of what he might find.

  She was gazing at him, her face glowing. “I’d like to do that again.”

  Hugh let out a shaky laugh. “I have something else in mind.” He used his discarded shirt to clean them up, took her in his arms and kissed her soundly, then eased her back against the pillows. He settled in beside her, kissing her and stroking her hip for long moments before he slid his hand under the coverlet to caress her thigh.

  Isla squirmed a little under his teasing touch and pressed a hand to his chest. “This other thing you have in mind…”

  He took her hand in his, kissed it, then pressed both of her hands against the pillow, on either side of her head. “Patience, Miss Ramsey. You’ll find out soon enough.” He dropped a teasing kiss on the tip of her nose, then reached back under the covers and resumed stroking her. His fingers dragged lightly over her skin, making her shiver.

  She tensed just a bit when his hand moved between her legs, but he didn’t try to touch her there. He only caressed the satiny skin of her inner thighs, and at the same time he brought his mouth back to her breasts. He teased her nipples with light strokes of his lips and tongue until she was sighing beneath him, then he suckled her, his mouth pulling at the reddened tips until her sighs turned to moans and she was writhing beneath him.

  Then…then he touched her. His fingers were gentle as they burrowed through her soft curls and found her center.