She glanced at the door again, wishing Sunny were still in the coach with her. This interrogation had begun as soon as she’d left. It seemed as if Gwen was the one who needed a protection spell now.
“I asked Ethan about the common locations for a duel and he told me. Sunny and I went to each one before we were able to locate you,” she said.
“Who in the hell is Ethan?”
He did not shout at her, but with her being in close proximity to him, it sounded as if he had. His aura was a bright red, flaring wildly and it reminded her of fire. He was seething.
“He is Sunny’s business partner. I’ve conversed with him on occasion,” she said.
“You are on a first name basis with him?”
“Er, yes. I was most grateful to him for assisting me.”
“And then, you and Sunny, gallivanted all over the city of London, in the middle of the night, alone, to find me?” he asked, his gaze darkening.
“I don’t believe it wa-”
“Without an armed guard or anyone to keep you safe?”
After seeing what she had done to Wells’s hand, she knew that she and Sunny were more than capable of protecting themselves, but she could not tell him that.
“Sunny had a pistol in her reticule,” she lied.
His eyebrows rose and then he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, closing his eyes.
“I cannot believe what I’m hearing. And pray tell, what were you planning to do when you found me?”
“I’m sure we can both agree that you were very fortunate because of my being there. I saved your life,” she snapped.
Couldn’t he see she had been motivated by concern for him? For someone very much alive, he sounded very upset.
“Yes, you did, but it could have come at a great cost, Gwen.” He raised his head to look at her and there was fear in his gaze. For her. “And it is not one I am willing to pay.”
The fight in her died like an extinguished candle. He was angry because he believed she had put herself in danger. Even though he had pursued her hand in marriage, she had never once felt as if he saw her as more than a potential wife that suited his needs. She never dreamed he would come to care for her beyond that. It may not be love, but it was something.
“Hayden,” she whispered.
Hesitantly she stood and leaned over him, planting a hand on the cushion beside each of his shoulders. She brought her lips close to his and brushed them with her own.
“I wasn’t willing to pay the price of losing you either,” she said against his mouth.
“For your mother’s sake?”
If she hadn’t detected the note of uncertainty in his tone, she would have pulled away. She guessed he did not believe she genuinely cared about him, past what he could do for her. How wrong he was.
“For my own,” she said.
She pressed her lips to his. He cupped her face between his hands and took over the kiss, deepening it and touching his tongue to hers. She sighed into this mouth, loving the hunger emanating from him. He drank of her as if she were a life-giving elixir he needed. His hands slid up the sides of her hips, and encircled her waist. With the tightening of his grip, he lifted her to sit astride him without breaking the kiss. Her skirts rustled and then settled as he splayed one hand across her back, while the other wove itself into her hair. The pins that held her tresses in a loose chignon began to fall to the floor as the kiss progressed.
After her first bout of passion with Hayden, she was more than ready to experience the magic of his hands again. They began to rove over her body, creating a tingling warmth wherever they touched. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into his firm hold, biting back the moan which threatened to emerge.
His thumb swept over her nipple, as he said, “There is too much clothing between us. I want to feel the softness of your skin with my hands and in my mouth.”
He made short work of the laces at the back of her gown, and then slowly pushed the material over her shoulders and down her arms. It lay pooled around her belly, leaving her completely bare from the waist up. She kept her eyes averted, unable to meet his gaze as nervousness took over. He clasped her chin with his thumb and index, raising her head. Their eyes locked. There was a tenderness about his gaze, a softening of his face that she had never seen before.
“Gwen, you are so lovely,” he said, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip.
She smiled and then nipped at his finger. Taking it into her mouth fully, she sucked on it, drawing a hiss from Hayden. His gaze darkened as he watched her, making her all the more eager.
“My turn,” he said.
He removed his finger, now wet from her mouth, and ran it across her nipple. She shivered. He cupped her breasts with both hands, and she waited with bated breath. With agonizing slowness, he lowered his head to one, taking the peak of it into his mouth. Supported by his hand, she leaned back and placed her palms flat on his knees behind her, before arching her back once more. Her hair swayed, brushing her back and the tops of his thighs, as the coach swayed, but she dismissed everything, except the man in front of her. He lavished attention on her breasts until she thought she would go mad. A delicious ache had already begun to spread throughout her body, and she shifted on his lap to ease it, but to no avail.
“Hayden, please,” she whimpered, not recognizing her own voice. It was more full, more velvety and filled with desire and longing.
He raised his head to look at her, a slow smile spreading across his beautiful face. “Please, what?”
“Touch me.”
“Where, Gwen? I want you to tell me.”
“Where I ache,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please.”
His hand snaked under her dress to stroke the core of her and she almost fell off of his lap when her hips jolted. He was bringing her body to a frenzy and she had not been prepared for the strength of the sensations.
“Yes,” she said, her voice a strained plea.
His fingers contained magic, of this she was utterly convinced. They stroked, pressed, and flicked until she was shaking. Her climax was on the brink when he pulled his hand away to undo his pants. When his erection was freed, he took it and dipped it into the evidence of her desire, before running it along her core.
She knew she should be scared or tentative, but she was mindless with need, her passion all but overwhelming. Her hips began to seek him out, grinding down and against him to apply a sinful pressure. He didn’t stop her. His hands settled on her hips, guiding them and steadying her as she brought herself release. A small cry tore from her lips as her climax finally came, but it was swallowed by his mouth on hers.
As she spiraled downward from her euphoria, she felt him at her entrance, slowing filling her. Sweat began to dot his brow as he eased himself inside her and she watched in awe as his face contorted with sweet agony. Then his eyes opened and rested on her as he filled her completely. She stared at him wide-eyed, loving the feel of him. Then she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer to her, and buried her face in his neck.
And then he began to move.
It was heaven. Gwen held on tight as his movements became more powerful. She felt the flexing of his thighs underneath hers, and the strength of his hands as he held her. She matched his rhythm, aided by him, and together they communicated in a way that words could never compete. He worshipped her with his body and she offered it freely.
Her second climax came more readily and soon she was weeping quietly into his skin as it overwhelmed her. His muffled shout came shortly after and she instinctively knew he’d been brought to the brink and shattered as well.
His hand made lazy circles on her back which soothed her, along with the gentle swaying of the coach. Reality was slow to penetrate and she kept it at bay as long as possible, not willing to give up the intimate moment. For the first time in her life, Gwen felt complete and not inadequate or defective in any way.
She snuggled closer to Hayden, wis
hing that she was truly his bride-to-be.
Chapter 10
“Please tell me you have come home to inform me that you have found a candidate for a wife?” Alfred Caldwell, Earl of Greystone asked Hayden.
He studied his father. They shared the same dark brown hair and green eyes, and even exhibited similar facial expressions, but all that only proved they were related. Not family. As far as Hayden was concerned, his brother, Gabriel had been his only family member until he had disappeared.
“Yes, I have.”
“And what is her name?”
“Lady Gwendolyn Trescott, daughter of the late Duke Fairview and his wife, Meredith,” Hayden said and waited. Nothing was ever simple with his father and he doubted this would go over smoothly with him. He was not disappointed.
“Lady Fairview, you say.” The earl stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Black hair with strange colored eyes?”
Hayden clenched his jaw and nodded.
“Ah yes, I remember the chit. I heard she stopped appearing in society after her father died. Such a shame he did not produce a male heir. The title has probably been passed on to some cousin. I wonder if her dowry is as sizeable now, as it was when Gabriel asked for her hand during her year as a debutante.”
Hayden exhaled as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Gwen had met Gabriel, even entertained an offer of marriage from him, and had disclosed nothing to him. If he allowed his anger to surface, his father would only take delight in it, so he repressed it after vowing to call on Gwen directly after this meeting.
“Gabriel never mentioned her,” Hayden said in a bored tone.
“I can’t remember the details of it all, but for one reason or another they didn’t suit and he withdrew his offer shortly after.”
“I see.”
“Have you spoken with her mother?”
“Not quite,” Hayden said. “There is a situation that I’ve come to inform you about.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got the girl pregnant?” The earl slammed his fist on his desk and the items on top rattled. “I only wanted you to find a wife and you can’t even do that without making a mess of it.”
“She is not pregnant,” Hayden said. “Her mother has been accused falsely and is now being held in the local jail while she waits to be brought before the court.”
“What is she being charged with?”
“Witchcraft.”
“No one but weak minded individuals believes in that nonsense,” the earl declared. “Who is her accuser?”
“Several members of her staff. I was told they witnessed several objects flying through the room and the mother confessed to being the conjurer. I am in agreement with you and believe it is nothing more than an attempt to receive higher wages from their mistress.”
The earl grunted. “Stupid wenches. How do they expect to receive these increased wages if their employer is in jail? Do you see, son? Weak minds are susceptible to theories of magic and whatnot.”
“Agreed.”
“Well, this will not do. You must choose another bride. She will have this scandal linked to her, plus there is the loss of the title and I doubt she has much dowry left. I saw her father gamble before his death and he had the tendency to lose large sums of money. She is not good enough for you.”
“She is too good for the remaining members of this estate and the only one that matches her in honor is Gabriel and he’s dead,” Hayden said.
His hands shook with the urge to strike his father for the words he spoke about Gwen. He had not known her long, but it was enough to know she was a kind, caring, and courageous woman. Someone he admired very much.
“The only reason I have come today was to seek your aid in releasing her mother.”
The earl leaned back in his chair and eyed his son. “You’ve gone and fallen for her. Maybe her mother is truly a witch and so is she. Has she cast a spell on you lad? Perhaps with what lies beneath her skirts, if not with magic. You weak minded fool.”
Hayden rose from his chair. “I intend to marry her, so if you are concerned with a potential scandal, I suggest you retrieve her mother immediately before it gets out into society. And as far as Lady Fairview is concerned, you will never speak about her in such a manner again or I will make sure to do all I can to inherit your title, but a lot earlier than you have planned.”
“You bastard. Did you just threaten me?” the earl roared to Hayden’s back as he crossed the room.
“If you will not use your status in the House of Lords to release the duchess, then I will when you meet an untimely death and I inherit your seat. If that does not work, then your wealth will certainly get the job done. The choice is yours.”
“You have no honor! You are nothing like your brother!”
Hayden turned back to look at his father, unable to stand the sight of him. “You’re right, I am nothing like him. He was all that was good and it amazes me how he turned out that way despite having someone like you for a father. And you are wrong about me. I do have honor. It may be my own code, but it is there. After all of these years, I have finally learned it doesn’t need to match your definition.”
“I will disown you, Hayden! Strip you of everything and remove you from my will,” the earl said.
Without turning back, Hayden smiled and said, “No, I don’t believe you will because you love that title more than you ever cared about me. And father? You have three days to have the duchess released.”
Hayden’s need to see Gwen was overwhelming. He wanted to hear, from her own mouth, the history between herself and his brother. And just as bad as he wanted to speak with her, he wanted to be inside her. The time in the coach with her had been better than he could have ever imagined. He enjoyed everything about her, from her enthusiasm to her surrender. He really hoped this conversation would resolve some things so they could continue learning about each other in and out of bed.
The door swung open and Gwen appeared, smiling at him. He couldn’t allow her beauty to distract him and so he closed his eyes briefly. After taking a fortifying breath, he opened them.
“What is it, Hayden?” she asked, her smile fading.
“We need to talk.”
Her gaze filled with concern and a touch of apprehension. “Of course.”
Once they were seated in the parlor, and he’d declined refreshments, she asked, “Are you alright?”
That was the hardest question for him to answer at that moment.
“Did you know my brother?”
Her head whipped back as if he’d struck her. Then she scowled at him. “No. I only met him once.”
Her reply was not what he expected and he began to doubt it was the truth.
“I went to see my father today, to speak to him about our engagement and the situation with your mother. Then, he informed me that Gabriel asked for your hand.”
She stayed quiet, her face unreadable except for the anger that was shown. That was quite evident. However, he was not in the mood for her silence. He wanted information.
“Is it true?” he asked.
“Is what true?” she snapped.
“That he asked for your hand?”
“He did.”
Those two words were like a blow to his midsection, causing such pain that he braced his elbows on his thighs and rested his face in his hands.
“And you didn’t think to mention this to me?” he asked, unable to keep the hurt from his tone.
“Our engagement in not real, Hayden, so why would I mention it? Besides, it was so long ago...”
She stood to approach him, but at her movement he raised his head, and she stopped. The corners of her mouth were pinched and she clasped her hands in front, her knuckles turning white.
“Why does this matter to you?” she asked.
“Why?” he sighed. “For once in my life I would like to be someone’s first choice. My father chose Gabriel over me my entire life, as did most of our mutual friends. Then I met you, no longer having to worry
about my brother overshadowing me, because he is dead.” Gwen flinched at the word, but did not interrupt. “Then I find out that he has bested me again, by asking for your hand first. Had I not been the one to discover you were a virgin, I would have assumed my brother had gotten to that before me as well.”
Gwen’s gasp filled the air just as the teapot on the table exploded, knocking the cups to the floor. Like a fountain, tea splattered in all directions, along with tiny bits of porcelain. Some pieces fell noiselessly to the rug, while others pinged against the neighboring furniture. Hayden stared at her as tea dripped down the walls, on the legs of the coffee table, and at the edge of his nose. She, he noticed, was completely dry.
“Hayden,” she began, her arms extended in front, palms down, as if trying to calm him.
“Witchcraft,” he whispered.
His mind chose that moment to replay every moment between the two of them, pointing out possible scenarios that could be explained by magic.
“It’s not what you think. I can explain,” she said, her voice shaking.
She took another step towards him, but he shook his head. He stood as his hand searched for the handkerchief in his pocket. After wiping his face, he thrust the tea-stained linen towards her.
“By all means, please do. I would love to hear how a tea pot could shatter without either one of us touching it.”
“It was quite hot-”
“Don’t play me for the fool. And the next thing you’re going to tell me is that Wells’s hand incurred mysterious burns because the knife was too hot.” He scoffed. “I saw his hand and it looked as though it had been scorched. By fire! In the middle of an open field.” He shook his head. “You are going to have to come up with something more plausible than that, or you may be seeing your mother sooner than you think.”
Her eyes narrowed and he steeled himself for another magical outburst.
“Do not threaten me,” she said, her tone flat.
“Or what? You will injure me too? Or kill me?”
“Only after you ensure the release of my mother, then I will consider it.”
The Masquerade (Den of the Fallen Book 0) Page 7