Her Wicked Proposal: The League of Rogues, Book 3

by Lauren Smith

  “Is everything all right, Lady Sheridan?”

  “I saw you…covered in blood. Why did I see you bleeding?” She clutched at his waistcoat for support while she fought off a wave of nausea.

  Ashton looked at her curiously. “You saw me covered in blood?”

  “Yes… Your chest was bare, and your shoulder was…wounded,” she added with a flush of heat in embarrassment. She ought never to have admitted to having seen him half-naked.

  “It’s a memory and nothing more, Lady Sheridan,” Ashton soothed. “Last December you came to visit your friend, Emily Parr, now the Duchess of Essex. I believe Cedric told you I’d been shot last year. Godric was tending to my shoulder and you came in upon us. I am sorry the memory has upset you.”

  Anne blinked in surprise as the memory sharpened and everything came back about that particular day. She remembered Emily, her good friend. Godric, the brooding and handsome Duke of Essex. They weren’t blank titles any more. They were friends she remembered. If only the rest would come back. Anne’s racing heart settled and her shoulders slumped in relief.

  “Thank God. I was worried I might be suffering from visions.” She rubbed a hand along her forehead.

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  Anne gave a shake of her head. “It’s all a blur. I wish I could.”

  “Do you remember the night you first met Cedric at Almack’s?”

  Anne started to say no, but Ashton cupped her chin and had her look at him. “Think hard. I was there. There was a waltz starting. Cedric turned to face you…” The smooth narration of Ashton’s voice poured through her, seeking out dark spots in her mind, bathing them in pools of shimmering memory.

  “He smiled at me and I felt…”

  Ashton focused on her even harder. “Imagine him there, turning to see you for the first time. The look he gave you. The smile. What did you feel?”

  She surrendered to his eyes and spoke what her heart remembered, even though her mind insisted the memory was gone. “I felt that everything I’d ever known to be true wasn’t anymore. That my existence began in the curve of his smile, and the first breath in my lungs was rooted in the gleam of his eyes. My heart was his.”

  Ashton released her chin and placed his palm on her cheek. He brushed his knuckles along her cheekbone, soothing and tender. It was only then Anne realized tears were streaming down her cheeks and he was wiping them away.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry, Lady Sheridan.”

  Anne sniffled and wiped her face with the heel of her hand.

  “I remember it now.” Something in Ashton’s insistence of her thinking about that night had brought a fleet of memories back into her mind—her father, Cedric, Emily. So much of who she was had returned, and her head was pounding with the ache of it all.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” Ashton inquired with some concern.

  “I just need some fresh air.” Anne struggled past him to get free of the library and the onslaught of memories. But escape from her emotions was impossible. She stopped herself short from crashing into her husband, who had just come around the corner a few feet away from the library.

  “There you are, my heart. I’d recognize that scent anywhere.”

  Anne threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She buried her face in his chest, taking in the scent of him, the aroma of leather, stables and sandalwood.

  “Is something wrong? Have you been crying?”

  “I remember the night we met,” she answered.

  “God in heaven… No wonder you’re in tears. I’m so sorry. I wish I could take those memories back. Of Andrews hurting you, or myself and that other woman.” He held her close, banding his arms about her.

  “Cedric, please, listen to me. It’s not those things I was remembering. I was remembering what it felt like to see you that first time. How much I cared for you…”

  “Cared? As in past tense?” His hands stiffened just the slightest bit.

  “I still care.”

  “And that made you cry?”

  Anne burrowed herself deeper into him. “Yes and no.”

  His chuckle shook his chest, the sensation against her face delightful, comforting. “It has to be one or the other. Which is it?”

  “Cedric, nothing is ever that simple when discussing love.”

  His grip loosened, but he pulled her closer, the embrace far softer.

  “Loving me makes you weep?”

  “In a wonderful way.” She tried to tease him, but it still came out watery. “But you mustn’t let it encourage your sense of self-importance.”

  “Well, we both know how well-endowed that is.” He pressed his hips against hers, just enough for her to feel the bulge in his trousers.

  “Husband.” A laugh escaped her lips. She adored his natural inclination to be playful. It always eased her moods.

  “Well, dry your eyes, love. I’ve decided to spend the day with you. What would you like to do?”

  “Could we spend it in the stables?”

  “What on earth for?”

  Anne repressed a giggle at the perturbed expression on his face. “I want you to finally show me your Arabian mares.”

  “Of course. Your memory must be returning if you remember that obsession. And here I was thinking I’d get you alone in a pile of hay and have my way with you.” Cedric nuzzled her neck.

  “Perhaps you shall,” she replied.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The skies were once again heavy with black clouds, the bellies of which hung low enough to touch the distant horizon. Anne gazed at the ominous sight as the gloom of the coming storm settled around her and Cedric. The air was filled with the rich scent of late-blooming flowers and of rain yet to come. Her skin tingled as a warm breeze swirled and eddied about her. The stables were just ahead, the musty aroma of hay and polished leather teased her, reminding her of a past that was still somewhat hazy.

  Cedric swung his lion-headed cane back and forth over the gravel path as they walked toward the wide double door entrance of the stables.

  “How many horses do you have?”

  He flashed an indulgent smile. “You mean how many do we have? They are yours now as well. And we have fourteen, including my four dappled grays for my private coaches.”

  “And the Arabians? What are their names?” Anne’s hand tightened on his arm as they reached the stable doors.

  Cedric paused, sweeping his cane over the threshold to determine if he had clear access before he ushered her inside.

  “Their sire was the famous Firestorm. The two mares I have are called Winter’s Heart and Autumn’s Flame. I’ve been calling them Heart and Flame.”

  Anne held her breath in excitement as Cedric counted the stalls, his cane tapping lightly on each stall door they passed. Inquisitive equine faces poked out of the wooden enclosures.

  Cedric set his cane against one particular stall door. “Ahh, this should be Winter’s Heart.”

  A snowy white mare stuck her head out, her nose brushing Cedric’s palm. He flinched at the sudden contact, then relaxed as the mare nibbled his fingers.

  Anne peered into the stall to get a better look at the mare. “I can’t believe it. She’s pure white. Not even a hint of gray.” She’d never seen such a magnificent creature before. The breeding which must have gone into Winter’s Heart was unimaginable. No wonder the Arabian merchant had threatened Cedric’s life. Losing these two horses must have cost him his very soul.

  “Oh, Cedric, she’s beautiful.” Anne trailed a hand up Heart’s neck. The horse’s large eyes were onyx pools reflecting her face. With an impatient huff and a heavy stamp, Heart shifted and nudged Cedric’s shoulder. With a grin he dug into his pocket and retrieved a lump of sugar. Heart took it daintily from his palm and munched it in the most ladylike manner Anne had ever seen. Anne
smothered a giggle.

  Cedric heard her and snorted. “Heart is my well-behaved lady. Flame, on the other hand…” He pointed to a stall two doors down where a stunning red chestnut mare was watching them, ears flicked forward in their direction.

  “Flame is my little hellion. All fire and spirit.”

  Anne blinked as a whisper of a memory flitted past. Cedric’s voice calling her “little hellion” and speaking of her as an “inferno.” A blush crept across her cheeks. Anne focused on the second mare, laughing as Flame nipped Cedric’s arm to get at the hidden lumps of sugar.

  Anne listened with delighted fascination as Cedric told her tales of his youth. His love for his parents, his sisters, and his horses was evident from his tone and the expressions of joy on his face. He looked livelier than she’d seen him in months. How she remembered his darkness of the heart before now, she couldn’t say. But she knew this man; this happy man was the one she’d loved, still loved. It was this Cedric she had married. Anne’s heart clenched as he looked toward her. It was almost as if he could see her.

  I wish I could give you my sight. I wish I was the one who suffered in your place.

  “Well, shall we head in?” Cedric felt about for his cane just as thunder shattered the silence. A deluge of rain crashed down over the stables a moment later.

  “Perhaps we ought to wait,” Cedric suggested.

  “’Tis only rain.”

  Cedric tightened his grip on her. “Where there is thunder there is lightning and I do not wish to brave that risk, not with your injuries.”

  “Very well. What are we to do?”

  “There is an empty stall at the back. We can rest there until the storm passes.”

  Cedric led her back down the row of stalls. It was to be her and Cedric alone in a warm, hay-filled stall. So much could happen before the storm passed.

  Cedric hailed one of the grooms, and the man produced several clean blankets for them before he disappeared into the tack room and firmly shut the door. Anne watched Cedric set his cane down and spread the blankets out on the clean bed of hay.

  “Come and sit.” His tone was soothing, a temptation she couldn’t refuse.

  Once Anne was seated comfortably in the center of the large woolen blankets, he eased down beside her.

  Cedric brushed his hand over the blanket, looking away from her. “I used to hate coming here. After the accident, that is. It reminded me of how much I’d lost. It is a funny thing, to at last have your heart’s desire yet never be able to enjoy it.”

  Anne’s throat tightened as she saw the look of bewilderment on his face.

  “But coming here with you…” He paused, searching for her hand, then lacing their fingers together. “It made the loss of riding less painful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Cedric raked a hand through his hair. “Being with you…it’s like seeing the world again when I thought I’d be trapped in darkness forever. I didn’t have to ride the horses today to feel happy. Simply being here, touching them and talking to them, it made me feel a joy I’d thought lost forever. I owe that to you, Anne. I owe you everything. Name your heart’s desire and I will see that you get it. It’s the least I can do for giving me a piece of my life back.”

  Cedric raised her hand to his lips, feathering kisses over her knuckles and on the inside of her palm as he waited for her answer.

  “I want only you. All of you.” Where such boldness came from she had no idea, but the time was here and waiting would only threaten her chances of being happy. She kissed his hand, wanting him to feel the depth of her love.

  Cedric’s empty eyes seemed to darken. His lips parted, and he released her hands carefully, a guarded gesture.

  “Anne, I have little self-control left in me. Do not test it. I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

  “I’m not testing you. I meant what I said. Don’t you know that? I want you.” She held his hand to her chest, hoping he’d understand what she meant.

  He surprised her by withdrawing and standing. He moved to the stall door, feeling for the handle and pulling it shut. Then he drew a shaky breath and turned to face her. The privacy of that moment, the two of them closed away from the rest of the world, captured Anne in its solemnity. They were on the edge of a cliff together and the slightest breeze could send them careening down.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked. A glimmer flashed in his gaze, a light she’d not seen since before he’d gone blind.

  “With every breath. With my entire soul.”

  Cedric leaned back against the stall door. She’d forgotten the confidence and power he used to have before he’d lost his sight. He’d been a force of nature, a whirlwind of passion. Now he was a muted storm, a quiet rain, and she was still hopelessly in love with him.

  “Have you ever seen someone train a young gelding?”

  “Yes…” Anne recalled her father’s master groom spending several hours in a solitary stall stroking every inch of the gelding’s body so that the horse became familiar with the groom’s touch and being handled.

  Cedric stepped forward, a hint of his grace and confidence echoing in the strong steps. There was nothing in this stall he could hurt himself if he fell upon it. Here, he was a master of his surroundings and he knew it.

  “By experiencing the comfort and pleasure of the groom’s touch, the gelding learns to trust him, and the groom is able to saddle him and ride him.”

  Cedric’s mouth transfixed Anne so much at first that she didn’t even notice he’d moved until he was kneeling at her feet. His fingers sought the laces of her slippers, undoing them. She didn’t stop him. To her surprise, she lifted her foot to allow him to ease it off.

  “You see, horses are like people. Their trust must be earned.” Her other slipper joined the first on the floor a few feet away.

  “Have you ever tamed a gelding?” Anne asked him. Her body quivered as Cedric moved around to sit behind her. His fingers slowly puzzled through the complicated hooks on the back of the gown. Her breath hitched with each gentle tug as he pulled the gown close to loosen the tension and unfasten each hook.

  “I have tamed one. When he was older he turned out to be my best racer. Most men think taming a horse means breaking its spirit.”

  “But not you?” Anne shut her eyes, savoring the slide of Cedric’s hands along her shoulders as he peeled the gown down off her body. She lifted herself up to rid her body of the now cumbersome muslin fabric.

  “Taming a creature is not about ending a creature’s wildness. Taming is about harnessing the spirit, so that the creature can reach its full potential.”

  Anne held her breath, expecting him to start removing her chemise, but instead he moved back to her front and slid a palm up her calf until he found the ties of her garter on her outer thigh. Fascinated by the dexterity and gentleness of his hands, Anne eased back into the bed of hay, content to let him undress her. Outside the whisper of rain against wood beat a steady rhythm. Her heart settled into a matching tempo as she surrendered into Cedric’s slow seduction.

  Cedric rolled her second stocking off, and his hands returned to her bare legs. He set them apart, merely stroking her inner thighs. His palms rasped softly over her sensitive skin, making her impossibly aware of his strength and roughness.

  “You have no idea how you feel to me. Your skin is soft, like satin. I’ve never known that beauty could exist in the mere act of touching you.” His husky purr had her legs trembling. Her reaction seemed to please him. Never had anyone touched her like this, like she was precious, delicate and desirable.

  Cedric pressed on with his exploration, his hands working to clear a path through her petticoats. She shifted restlessly, uneasy with her building desire.

  “Easy, darling.”

  Anne fought to remain calm as he pooled her skirts around her waist. A surge of panic struggled up
inside her when his fingers stroked her bare hips. She was open and exposed. Even if he couldn’t see her, he could still touch her.

  “Someone might see us.” Her words weren’t meant to deter, merely caution.

  “No one will. My grooms know when to stay away.”

  “Then they know that we are—?”

  Cedric leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her mouth, silencing her. As his lips moved over hers, Anne forgot her worries and melted to that velvet heat. She moaned in protest as he broke away from her, but it was only so he could remove her chemise.

  Before she could stop him he had settled atop her, one leg sliding between hers to press down on the sensitive, aching apex of her thighs. He swallowed her moan of shock with another kiss. She was completely nude and vulnerable beneath him, and yet he was still fully clothed. There was something sinfully wanton about this, but Anne couldn’t summon the will to care.

  The smooth fabric of his waistcoat and the rough cloth of his trousers teased her senses and spread heat throughout her body. Cedric’s hands were everywhere, guiding over her hips, sweeping possessively over her bottom, exploring the dark triangle of curls between her legs, and kneading the heavy mounds of her breasts. The constant petting and stroking was taming her, the way he’d no doubt meant to do.

  “I wish I could see you, Anne. It breaks me inside not to be able to.” Cedric’s voice was rough and uneven as he placed kisses on her forehead.

  Anne nuzzled his throat as she began to slide his coat off his shoulders. “You see me. You always have. It’s I who has been blind.”

  Cedric trembled. “All this time you have been right in front of me, and I couldn’t see you. But you are mine now.”

  She smiled and nibbled his ear. “That I am.”

  Cedric groaned and found her breast with his mouth. He laved her nipple with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. Anne arched up, desperate for the pleasure he was giving her.

  Everything with Cedric felt pure, vibrant. Each lick of his tongue, each nibble on her skin by his questing teeth made her gasp with pleasure. Places all over her body were aching and feverish. She wanted things she didn’t understand.