Midnight My Love

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Midnight My Love Page 15

by Anne Marie Novark

Taking her small hand in his, Robert kissed the hollow of her palm. He felt her pulse race beneath his fingers. "There's a fire in you, Jenny, lying dormant in your soul." His voice roughened and he tightened his hold on her hand. "I want to awaken that fire and stoke it until the flames engulf us both."

  Never taking his eyes from hers, Robert pressed her against the back of the bench and kissed her deeply. Jenny responded with an abandon which amazed him, clinging to him, drawing him ever closer--wanting him as much as he wanted her. Arising from the whirlwind of emotion threatening to swallow them both up, Robert resolutely broke the embrace. He wiped the tendrils of brown hair away from her flushed cheeks as he tried to bring his passion under control.

  "I must find a way to cry off from Felicia," he said. "You will marry me, won't you? I mean, once I'm free?"

  Jenny's heart thudded so loudly in her chest, she thought it might burst with joy. She'd waited for this moment her whole life. Or at least, from the first moment she'd set eyes on Robert all those years ago. "Yes, I'll marry you! It's the dearest wish of my heart."

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again, thrilled with the exquisite new feelings coursing through her body. The prospect of loving Robert and finally being loved by him in return filled her with a happiness unequalled to anything she'd ever experienced.

  Holding him close, she marveled at the tenderness and passion of his kiss. She loved how he tasted, how he smelled, how strong and hard he felt against her body. And he was hers now. Truly and forever.

  He cupped her chin, angling his head and taking the kiss deeper. Desire pooled low in Jenny's stomach. Her breasts tingled with awareness. She felt naughty and bold and wonderfully in love.

  "Jenny, we have to stop," Robert said, his voice ragged with emotion. "If we keep this up, I'll be tempted to ravish you right here in the maze and that won't do at all, I'm afraid." He pulled back and stared down at her. Jenny knew she would never get tired of seeing the warmth and affection shining in his eyes.

  She touched his cheek, relishing the feel of his skin beneath her fingers. "No, that wouldn't do at all." One more quick kiss and she stood, straightening her skirts and tidying her hair. "Besides, it's time we got back. The others must be wondering where we are. Shall we go?" She extended her hand to help him to his feet.

  Robert pulled her to him again. "Not quite yet, my love. Even though we must refrain from kissing, I want you to myself a little while longer. I know the back way out of this maze. Let's walk awhile before we join the others. There's a beautiful prospect over by the stream."

  "I'd like that," she said, her cheeks glowing.

  Robert held her hand as he led her out of the labyrinth. They went slowly down the gravel footpath to a quaint stone bridge. Stopping at the top, Robert held Jenny as they looked out toward the winding stream and pastures.

  Kissing her brow, Robert hugged her to him. "I don't know what madness seized me last December, when I became engaged to Felicia. Knowing I was returning to battle, I suppose I was taken with her fragile beauty and her liveliness. I guess I felt the need for some stability in my life."

  Jenny shushed him. "It doesn't matter now. As long as I thought you loved Felicia and she returned your love--all I wanted was for you to be happy. But when I realized she didn't care for you, couldn't even bear to look at you, I made up my mind to try to win your love."

  "And how were you going to do that, my dear?" he asked, with a smile.

  Her gray eyes twinkled. "I knew I'd think of something when presented with an opportunity. The opportunity arose, and here we are, my dearest Robert."

  "You did kiss me first, now didn't you? Somehow, I feel I've been taken advantage of."

  "Not at all, my lord," she answered saucily. "I saw a chance and took advantage of it, not you. Although, I never would have guessed I could act so bold."

  Robert laughed. "Neither could I, but I'm glad you did. I'll speak to Lord Thane as soon as we return home. Felicia must release me from the betrothal."

  Drawing her nearer, he kissed her tenderly, then hungrily.

  Jenny broke away. "We really should join the others."

  "You go on ahead," he said. "I need to plan what I'm going to say to the earl."

  She kissed him once more, then walked back to the gardens.

  Robert leaned against the stone balustrade and stared at the rushing water below. Something caught his eye near the bank. A lure was being cast from beneath the bridge. Lord Thane waded out to the middle of the stream and glanced up at him.

  "Playing fast and loose with my daughter, eh Turlington?" he asked, then focused his attention on his fishing line. "Yes, we shall have to talk when we return to Willowmede. Go on, now. Can't have you hovering about--you'll scare my catch away."

  "I'm sorry, sir," Robert said. "I don't know what to say--"

  "Not now, Turlington," murmured the earl. "I think I've got a nibble."

  "But, sir--"

  "Shh!" whispered the dedicated angler. "I have a bite!"

  Robert shook his head and smiled as he left the earl reeling in his catch.

  ****

  Alexandra saw Jenny returning from the direction of the stream. A joyful glow illuminated her friend's face. Robert and Jenny must have worked things out. Alex was glad; they were perfect for one another.

  "Alex, dear," Aunt Haygood called. "I'm ready to leave." She started gathering up her things.

  Alex nodded and waved. She'd never found a chance to talk to Carlisle. She was satisfied he wouldn't be devastated by her rejection of his suit. Felicia had kept him well entertained throughout the day, with her flirtatious ways and gay laughter. The girl had also made fast friends with Jonathan. She'd spoken the truth when she said she adored children.

  Surely now Felicia would release Robert from the betrothal. Everything seemed to be working toward her brother's happiness. If only she could get her own life straightened out.

  Rochdale had ignored her all afternoon. Lady Marcella had attached herself to him, dominating his time. Alex thought Damien was not entirely pleased with the woman's attentions. Or was that wishful thinking? Marcella had cajoled him into the orangery and they'd been gone now for almost an hour.

  Alex observed Carlisle alone for the moment and made her way purposefully toward him. Even if she never won Rochdale's love, she couldn't marry Carlisle. It would be unfair to enter into marriage when she had such strong feelings for another man.

  If she failed to make Rochdale love her, Alex decided she would never marry. She possessed a comfortable fortune and the house in Bath was hers, inherited from a great aunt on her mother's side of the family. She could continue her astronomical studies and be a doting aunt to Robert and Jenny's children.

  Alex sighed, then resolutely straightened her shoulders. She summoned a bright smile when she reached Carlisle. "I've come to say goodbye. It was a lovely picnic." Taking a deep breath, she plunged on. "I also want to tell you I've decided not to accept your very generous proposal. You're a good man, Carlisle, but I don't think we would suit. I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long for my answer. You've been most patient with me."

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I hope we shall remain good friends. I also hope you will allow me to continue my friendship with Jonathan."

  Carlisle bent and kissed her cheek. "Of course, my dear. Are you sure this is what you want? I've seen the looks exchanged between you and Rochdale. I've noticed the way he watches you. The viscount is a dangerous man. Be careful in your endeavors, and always know I wish you happiness."

  "I wish you happiness, too. Felicia has been most attentive and she's taken a great liking to Jonathan."

  Carlisle looked sheepish. "She's very young. And she is still engaged to your brother, though I know she can't love him."

  "Betrothals can be broken," Alex said. "The sooner that one ends, the better for all parties concerned."

  Carlisle took her hands and kissed her cheek again. "You're a beautiful woman, my dear. Good luck with
your Demon."

  ****

  Damien swore. His day had not gone at all as he'd planned. He had looked forward to a pleasant morning's fishing with Garr, only to find it spoiled by Carlisle, whom he could barely tolerate. Carlisle's idea of fishing was to sit at the edge of the pond while a servant cast out the line. Then the squire would hold the rod himself until a fish took the bait. Handing the rod back to the servant, Sir Howard was content to watch his catch reeled in.

  Damien and Garrett had ignored Carlisle and managed to enjoy the morning, catching a respectable amount of nice-sized bass. Lord Thane took himself off to wade-fish in the stream, muttering that it was too much for him to watch Carlisle making a cake of himself and the manly sport.

  When it was time for the picnic, Damien was greeted with the sight of one of his former mistresses lying in wait. He and the Nugent had enjoyed a year-long liaison when Lord Nugent was on a diplomatic assignment in India.

  Marcella had latched onto him and stayed by his side throughout the rest of the day. She had coerced him into the maze, then badgered him until he'd agreed to walk with her in the orangery.

  For the past hour, she had been begging him to take her home. She made it perfectly clear she wanted to renew their friendship. Damien had no desire for her company. Their affaire had ended with tears and recriminations. The lady had wished to continue the liaison; he had grown weary of her affected manners and jealousies.

  Emerging from the orangery with Marcella still hanging on his sleeve, the first thing Damien saw was Alexandra and Carlisle in deep conversation. He could see her face, but Carlisle's back was to him. Damien watched as Alex laid a gentle hand on the squire's shoulder and smiled up into his face. His blood rose when Carlisle leaned over and kissed Alexandra.

  Damn her soul to hell, Damien thought. She's a faithless and conniving wench, just like all the rest. His blood raged in his veins when Sir Howard kissed Alex a second time. He didn't know which would give him more pleasure--killing Carlisle or strangling Alexandra.

  Marcella tapped his arm with one well-manicured nail. "Why so tense, darling?" She followed his gaze, then narrowed her eyes. "Are you not pleased with dear Alex's choice of company? I believe they make a charming couple," she said, her voice honey-sweet. "Is it true they're going to make a match of it at last? It's high time Miss Turlington looked about for a husband. She's been on the shelf for years. They tell me she's something of an eccentric staying up in that tower of hers until all hours of the night gazing at the stars for long periods of time. Miss Turlington is lucky to find such a good catch as Carlisle."

  "I'm taking you home," Damien said curtly.

  "I'll make it worth your while, my love," she purred in his ear.

  Damien dragged Marcella with him to take leave of his host. Alexandra paled as they drew nearer. She looked like a wounded fawn, though why she should be hurting he hadn't a clue. She was the one kissing the squire. For the first time that afternoon, Damien was glad of Marcella's presence.

  Her ladyship's husky laughter filled the air. "Wonderful luncheon, Carlisle darling. We must get together again soon. Thank you for inviting me."

  "I'm delighted you enjoyed yourself," Sir Howard said, his manner stiff.

  Damien's lips tightened. "Congratulations must be in order, Carlisle. I saw you exchanging kisses with Miss Turlington. When will the ceremony take place?"

  "You mistake the matter, my lord," stated the squire.

  "Do I?" Damien asked, searing Alex with scathing eyes.

  Marcella smiled. "You have a thing or two to learn about carrying on your tête-à-têtes in public, my dears. You should seek out secluded spots for amour. The orangery, for example, is the perfect place. Am I not right, Demon?"

  He stood silent, searching Alex's face for something, anything. After one fleeting glance, she lowered her gaze to the ground. Damien had wished it had been Alex walking in the orangery with him, instead of Marcella. As he had deftly avoided the lady's ploys and maneuvers, he had tried to imagine what it would be like if Alex desired him as much as he desired her. Then he'd found her being kissed by the squire.

  He stared at the bent head. The chestnut hair glowed in the afternoon sunlight. Even now, after witnessing her perfidy, he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in the silky tresses. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I've decided to escort Lady Nugent home."

  Alex jerked her head up and looked at him, recoiling as if she'd been slapped. Damien almost faltered from his resolve, then reminded himself she was the guilty party.

  Carlisle looked uneasily from him to Alex. "What about your horse, Rochdale?"

  "One of the outriders will lead her. I prefer to ride inside with Marcella."

  Hugging Damien's arm tighter, Marcella smiled. "So much more comfortable and better situated for . . . conversation, don't you agree?" She gazed up at the viscount with hungry eyes. "We have so much to catch up on. Ta ta, darlings!"

  Damien turned and walked briskly to the stables, painfully aware that Marcella glanced triumphantly back at Alexandra.

  They met Garrett coming up the path. "Been checking on the horses," he said, a curious expression on his face. "Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

  "Rochdale has agreed to take me home," Marcella said, sounding unbearably smug.

  Garr looked surprised. "That so, Demon?"

  "Yes," he said bluntly.

  Garrett whistled low under his breath shuddered slightly at the sight of Marcella clinging to him. "Don't do anything rash, dear boy," he entreated. "Sometimes things aren't what they seem."

  "Don't I know it?" Damien sneered. "When did you become such a knowing one, Garr?"

  "Got eyes, don't I? Perhaps I know a thing or two you don't--ever think of that, Demon?"

  "The thought unmans me," Damien answered curtly. Then, relenting to the concern on his friend's face, he slapped his shoulder. "Don't worry. I know what I'm about."

  Garrett stared from him to Marcella, then back to him again. "I hope so, Demon. I certainly hope so."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The ride to Willowmede passed in a blur for Alexandra. She tried to feel happy for Jenny, who sat in a beatific dream all her own. Aunt Haygood dozed against the squabs as the carriage conveyed them home.

  Alex hoped she never had to spend another day like this again. Thank God, it was over. She was tired of trying to keep her countenance in front of so many people. Once she was safely home, she would retire to her bedchamber and indulge in a cleansing bout of tears.

  The first shock had been the presence of Lady Nugent at Bramble Court. Knowing her past relationship with Damien had made it difficult for Alex, and watching the woman blatantly throw herself at him had been all together too much. He had not seemed pleased with his former mistress, but Alex thought Damien should have offered less encouragement to her obvious lures.

  Marcella had clung to Rochdale like a vine. Alex had wanted to tear the woman away from him. She wanted to scratch her eyes out. The woman had no right to touch him, caress him.

  Damien was hers--and she loved him. She longed to feel his arms around her again, see his golden eyes suffused with passion.

  Instead, Alexandra remembered the final insult of the day. Damien had deliberately offered to escort Marcella home, coldly watching for Alex's reaction. He'd wanted to hurt her. Why?

  She had been standing with Carlisle, giving him his conge. Alex was glad the parting with her neighbor had been friendly. She could never love Carlisle enough to marry him.

  No, she had the misfortune of loving a rake. A man who intentionally did things to hurt her, who went off with his mistress right under her nose, who would not admit to himself he loved anyone or anything.

  How could she make Damien recognize what was staring him in the face? And if she should succeed in making him admit he loved her, would he give up his rakish way of life? Would he be true to her?

  It all seemed overwhelming, the obstacles insurmountable. Alex was thankful whe
n they reached Willowmede. The carriage halted and the steps were let down. Pleading the return of her headache, she ran upstairs to her bedchamber.

  ****

  All the way to Nugent Manor, Damien rode his bay mare beside Marcella's carriage. The Nugent had pouted and made a fuss when he handed her into the coach, but he'd changed his mind about sitting with her inside and stood firm in his decision to ride his horse.

  He regretted his impulsive offer to escort her home. Damien was in no mood to make love to a woman he no longer desired. Remembering Marcella's sensual promiscuity, he knew she would have thrown herself at him once the carriage door closed.

  The ride had given him time for reflection. He had done many things in his life--some outrageous, some truly wicked and immoral. Never had he felt the slightest remorse for his conduct. Lately though, he had begun to regret his past behavior . . . because of Alexandra. She never missed an opportunity to throw his reputation in his face. He hated seeing those green eyes regarding him with contempt.

  What he wanted was her respect. What he wanted was her.

  His thoughts were interrupted when they reached Nugent Manor. Dismounting, Damien waited for a groom to assist Marcella from the carriage. He ignored the passionate looks she cast his way.

  When he'd offered to take her home, Damien had every intention of bedding her. It would relieve the tremendous tension in his body, and he thought he would enjoy exacting revenge on Alex. He resented the feelings she engendered in him--the strange bouts of savage desire alternating with fits of tenderness. All he could think of was holding Alex, stroking her hair, kissing her, making love.

  He reluctantly followed Marcella into the house and to the library. He couldn't do it, couldn't sleep with her. He would leave as soon as possible.

  Closing the door, Marcella walked up to him, boldly put her arms around his neck and kissed him fully on the mouth. Damien stood perfectly still, not responding.

  She pulled back a little and smoothed his hair from his brow. "Something wrong, darling? Have I been a bit premature? You used to like it when I cut to the chase. Remember?"

 

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