Sandra Owens

by The Letter

  “He crept away like a chicken that learned it was on the menu for Sunday’s dinner. I wager he will retire to the country for the remainder of the year,” Aubrey said.

  Michael was sorry to hear that. “If he wants to live, he would be wise to remain in hiding for a very long time.”

  They found Lord and Lady Marcus-Holmes and approached. Michael bowed deeply. “My lord, my lady, I beg your forgiveness for that unfortunate scene.”

  “My heart goes out to our poor girl,” the countess said, “but as for worrying about me, you must not. My ball will be the talk of the Season and all will be vying for invitations next year.”

  She gave the duke a sly look. “You and your lovely duchess have never attended one of my events and are only here tonight because Lord Daventry asked it of you. I hope I can count on your presence next year. It would go far in smoothing my feathers.”

  Aubrey quirked a brow. “Correct me if I am wrong, my dear lady, but you just said all would be vying for an invitation, thus your feathers are far from ruffled and you have no need of me and mine.”

  “I may have misspoken, Your Grace.”

  “Amanda, leave His Grace alone,” Lord Marcus-Holmes said.

  Her ladyship swatted her husband’s arm with her fan. “Hush, Malcolm. His Grace and I are doing a bit of horse trading here.”

  Michael started to intervene, but the amusement in Aubrey’s eyes stopped him. He just wanted them to get their horses traded so he could return to Diana.

  “Under one condition—no, make that two,” Aubrey said.

  Lady Marcus-Holmes leaned forward. “What would those be, Your Grace?”

  “First, Lady Hartwell is not on your guest list and second, you save a dance for me.”

  “Done and done!” She held out her hand.

  Aubrey looked at it in puzzlement, then laughed and shook her hand.

  Lord Rotharton stayed with the earl and countess when Michael and Aubrey left them. “My apologies, Aubrey,” Michael said.

  “For what?”

  “That you were put in the position of having to commit to her next ball.”

  “You have known me long enough to know I don’t agree to anything I don’t wish to. Besides, you will earn my appreciation when you get in the ring with me.” His laugh was fiendish. “Yes, indeed you will.”

  “Sometimes, Your Grace, you are truly terrifying.”

  A large, heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder and squeezed so hard Michael’s knees almost buckled. Sweet Jesus, he did not stand a chance in a match with Aubrey.

  When they arrived to where he had left Diana, the only ones there were Lady Kensington, and Derebourne and his wife. Had she left?

  “Before you fall into a panic, Lord Daventry, she has gone to the lady’s retiring room for a few minutes,” Lady Kensington said. “She is with her mother and Her Grace, so she is safe.”

  Michael breathed easy again. This had been a long and trying night. He was ready to end it and take Diana home, but first they had to perform one last time. It was how he had planned to end the evening, with a waltz being their third dance and his statement to all that he was courting her. Damn Serena for ruining his plan.

  Michael inhaled the scent of vanilla as Diana approached. Although his heart merrily bounced in his chest, she looked everywhere but at him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Shamed, Diana could not look at Michael. Leo had wagered her at cards, a game he lost more often than not. Regardless of how Michael and Mr. Marlowe had tried to deflect the truth, she knew it was so. Why hadn’t the American tried to collect on his win, and why hadn’t Michael warned her? He obviously knew as he hadn’t been surprised when Lord Dangler made the claim.

  She shuddered. Merciful heavens, what if Dangler had won? She wasn’t sure she could have gone on living if he had gotten his hands on her. How did they expect her to go onto the dance floor and pretend her husband hadn’t thought her so useless he would hand her over to someone as debauched as the viscount?

  She wanted to go home. She pressed her feet into the floor to keep from running out the door. It was time to waltz with Michael while everyone stared at her.

  He put his hand on the small of her back. Diana closed her eyes and drew his strength into her body, not doubting he would help her get through this. She leaned close to him. “Let’s get this done.”

  His warm breath drifted over her neck as he leaned close. “Look at me and only me.”

  She nodded, put her hand on his shoulder and lost herself in his eyes. If people were staring at her, she refused to take notice. He was all she wanted to see. As for his announcement they were to marry, she understood why he said it, but she wouldn’t hold him to it.

  “Smile, love. You look as if you might bolt at any minute. Think of Jamie and his pony with a Latin motto and smile. There you go. Did you know there is not a more beautiful woman in this world than you? No? Well, it is true. Did you know there is no woman in this world I want but you? No? That is also true.”

  He waltzed them down the floor while keeping up a constant prattle. She listened to his every word and kept her lips curved in a smile. All the while, Lord Dangler’s words haunted her.

  “How long have you known about the wager?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Hush. Not here. We’ll discuss it when we return home. The dance is ending and we are going to collect my mother and leave.”

  “I would like to tell my parents we are going.”

  “That will be an easy thing to do as they are standing with Mother. I know this was difficult for you, but you did well, love.” He tucked her hand under his arm and smiled. “You truly are beautiful tonight.”

  She lifted her fan to her face, covering all but her eyes and batted her lashes. “Are you implying I am not beautiful on other nights, my lord?”

  He laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Minx. I imply nothing of the kind and well you know it. Now, let’s go home where I will soothe your poor feet.”

  ****

  Her eyes closed, Diana groaned. Michael’s hands, drenched with warm oil, were doing amazing things to her feet. His low chuckle rumbled over her skin, slipping into her pores where it traveled to all parts of her.

  “Like that do you?”

  “I should not be allowing this, but I cannot bring myself to make you to stop.” She lifted her lashes and peered at him. Wearing a deep blue dressing gown, he sat on the stool, her feet resting on his lap. A strand of black hair had fallen over his forehead. If she were close enough, she would brush it back.

  His hands slid over her ankles to the backs of her legs, kneading her calves.

  She moaned in ecstasy. “Oh, dear God, that feels wonderful.”

  Ink-blue eyes turned glittering black. “I want to hear you say those words when I am buried deep inside you. I want you so desperately, Myana, I hurt.” He took the heel of her foot and pressed it over his erection.

  “Michael—”

  “Hush. Don’t tell me to stop. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want, but I am going to do as much as you will allow. Consider yourself warned.”

  He turned his attention to her toes and the bottoms of her feet, sending sensual tingles shooting up her legs. She should respond to his warning, should tell him nothing was going to happen between them. She should not even be in his room, but she felt too blissful to care about anything but the magic of his hands.

  He brought a foot to his mouth and sucked on her middle toe. Heavens! She squirmed and squeezed her thighs together. Other parts of her body responded even though he had not touched her in those places. How did he do that?

  “Stop fighting it, love. Let the desire come, reach for your pleasure. Touch yourself, Myana.”

  His voice, low and husky, compelled her. She wanted to obey, but she had never pleasured herself. Ladies didn’t do such things, did they? Men did it to themselves as she had recently learned. Watching Michael with his hand wrapped around his erection had nearly stolen
her breath.

  “Diana, stop thinking.”

  “I’ve never touched myself before. I don’t know what to do, much less if it is proper.”

  He danced his fingers up her legs to behind her knees and lightly pinched her. The feeling was so intense she jolted while her private place dampened.

  His smile of satisfaction was pure male. “Do it for me, Myana. I want to watch you touch yourself.”

  Picking up her wine, she drained it. Though embarrassed to do what he asked, the hunger in his eyes called to her. She would give herself this night with him.

  He had announced to all they were to marry, but he still didn’t know. Would he change his mind if he saw her body? She was beginning to hope he might not care.

  The last thing she wanted was to fall back in love with him, but it was too late. She had probably never stopped loving him, only convinced herself she had. And when had she decided she did want to marry him?

  “You are thinking again.”

  “We should talk,” she said.

  His eyes had that determined look she had come to recognize. “I will talk until I am blue in the face…after. I promised to teach you how to pleasure yourself, and I am of a mind to do it now.”

  He slid his hand under her nightdress and caressed her inner thigh, his palm touching the scars from Leo’s knife. He must feel them, but he gave no sign. She resisted the urge to clamp her legs together.

  “Do it, Myana.”

  “Where?”

  “Wherever you wish.”

  She put her hand under her throat and spread her fingers over her skin. Sliding them down, she stopped at the V of her nightdress and stared into his eyes. The heat swimming in them gave her courage. She moved her hand lower and cupped a breast. It felt good, but she wasn’t sure what to do next.

  “Put your hand inside,” he said.

  “Like this?” She slipped her hand inside her nightdress and touched her left breast, the one not marked by Leo.

  Michael reached up and unbuttoned her, pushing the material aside. She slapped her other hand over her right breast to keep him from uncovering it. He made no comment, only focused his gaze on the exposed breast.

  “Pinch your nipple. I think you will like how it feels.”

  Her eyes slid closed as she did as he asked. It did feel good. Very good. “Do other women do this?”

  “Yes.”

  She shouldn’t have asked. How many women had there been in his life since Leo stole her away? Had he done this with Lady Hartwell? Jealously was not a good feeling. It made her want to smash things.

  “You are thinking again. Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “From the first time I saw your face, there has only been you where it counts.” He tapped his fingers over his heart. “Here. You have always been here. No one else but you.”

  She tapped her heart and then her woman’s place. “There has only been you here and here.”

  His chin dropped to his chest for a moment, and when he lifted it, there was regret on his face. “I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. I thought you were lost to me forever and I tried very hard to rid my heart of you.”

  He took her hand in his. “Listen. Not once have I come close to loving another. Not once have I needed anyone the way I need you. I promise you this. There will never be another woman in my life or in my bed but you.”

  Was he saying he loved her? Before he made any more promises she had to show him what she looked like. She needed to do it now before she lost her nerve. All she had to do was to pull the right side of her nightdress aside and show him her mangled breast. He startled her, however, when he picked her up, turned and sat so that she straddled his lap.

  He cradled her face with his palms and kissed her hard. After his kiss, he stared into her eyes. “I am taking over seeing to your pleasure from here.”

  “I need to show you what you are getting.” She put her hand on the open edge of her nightdress and started to pull it open. He stopped her.

  “All you need to show me is how much you like this.” He turned and blew out the candle on the table next to them and then pushed his dressing gown aside. Lifting her nightdress to her waist, he took his erection in hand and gently guided it into her.

  Did he know she was badly scarred? Was that why he had blown out the candle and left her clothed? If they married, would he prefer she always keep her nightdress on while they made love in the dark? Wouldn’t he tire of it?

  “Diana?”

  “Yes?”

  He put his mouth to her ear. “Stop thinking.”

  “All right.”

  ****

  Michael gripped her bottom and pressed his face against the soft skin of her neck, his breath harsh and hot as he spilled his seed into the deepest part of her.

  “Myana.” It was the only word he could manage.

  Sweet Jesus. Loving her was good, so damned good, but he wanted to surround them in candlelight, strip her virginal nightdress away and look at every inch of her. He would lick her from her toes to her mouth, tasting her from here to there. There had to be a way to prove to her she was desirable, that her body was beautiful.

  He needed a plan.

  She sighed and nestled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. It had been a long night, the chair was soft and the fire warm. He listened to her breathing and thought she had fallen asleep. Shortly, he would carry her to her bed, but he wanted to hold her in his arms for a few minutes longer. He needed to convince her to marry him soon so he could keep her in his bed, so he could love her and then hold her close as they slept.

  “Why didn’t Mr. Marlowe try to collect on his wager?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “You promised we would talk. Please tell me.”

  Someday, he would find a way to punish Dangler. “He did collect. He spoke true when he said I covered the debt.”

  “But the money wasn’t the original wager, was it? So why did he play to win me and then not follow through? I am grateful he didn’t, but I don’t understand.”

  “Are you sure you want to talk about this, love? It is over and done with. Wouldn’t it be better to forget?”

  She pushed away from his chest. “If you don’t tell me, I will only think it worse than it probably is.”

  “All right then.” He pulled her to him for a kiss and then gently tapped her bottom. “Up with you.”

  After she returned to her chair, he refilled their wine glasses and told her all Marlowe had said.

  “Then I am indebted to him for not only hauling Lady Hartwell away, but for saving me from either Lord Dangler or Sir Geoffrey. The mere thought of those two gives me shudders. I’m sorry, Michael.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “For causing such trouble and costing you so much money.”

  “I am going to be your husband. Protecting you is my responsibility, so hush.”

  She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “About that.”

  Oh no, they were not going to have this conversation when his mind was not at its best. It was late and he was past tired. He glanced at the clock. “It is almost dawn.” He stood and scooped her up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you to bed.”

  She wiggled in his arms, trying to get down. “But I want to talk about your telling everyone we are to marry.”

  He pulled her tight to his chest. “Tomorrow.”

  “Now.”

  Michael dropped her on the bed, and then removed his dressing gown and lifted the cover.

  “You cannot sleep in my bed.” She scooted over and yanked the counterpane from his hand.

  “If you insist on talking now, we will do it in your bed. I do not promise, however, not to fall asleep.”

  “No, Fanny will come in soon and find you here.”

  “Like the view?” Her gaze was on his cock, which was becomi
ng aroused under her scrutiny. He grinned when she jerked her eyes up.

  She threw a pillow at him. “Fine. We will talk tomorrow. Now go away.”

  He picked up his dressing gown, but knowing she would look at his arse as he left, did not put it on.

  “Stupid brick wall,” she muttered.

  “I heard that.” He shut the connecting door before she could answer.

  ****

  Sunday afternoon, Michael walked into White’s and took a seat next to Aubrey. He had slept late, had breakfast sent to his chamber, and had managed to avoid seeing Diana. They would discuss their marriage at a timing of his choosing, preferably when he could kiss her senseless, erasing any objections from her mind.

  “I did not see your man outside.”

  Aubrey turned a look on him that said he was stupid. “Unless Reeves wants you to see him, you will not. Derebourne will be here in a few minutes. We will have luncheon and discuss all the ways you can torture that fool, Dangler. Then you will get in your carriage and leave.”

  “If there is someone following me and your man captures him, I want to talk to the blackguard.”

  Aubrey looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine guidance, and then lowered a hard stare at Michael. “You will get in your carriage and go home. Reeves may have to resort to a bit of, shall we say, persuasion. Neither you nor I want Serena to be able to say we were anywhere near her man. I will stop by later and tell you what he learned.”

  “Oh ho, what are the two of you planning now?”

  Michael lifted a finger to his forehead and saluted Derebourne. “The demise of civilization as you know it. Aubrey plans to take over the world, and you and I are to be his minions.”

  Derebourne took a seat next to Michael. “All right then. When do we begin?”

  The hour passed swiftly, and when Michael walked out to his carriage, he looked for Aubrey’s man but saw nothing. He returned home and spent the time waiting for His Grace by playing a few games of marbles with Jamie.

  “I won! I won!” Jamie jumped up and ran to his mother. “Mama, I won. I beat Michael.”