by Amelia Grey
“To what?”
“I’ll explain later. I’ve already sent my carriage to be put away for the night. I’ll have to send someone for it later and take you home. But there’s something we must do first.” He took hold of her hand and said, “Can you run?”
“Yes, of course,” she answered, confused by his question.
“Good. Hold the hood over your head.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Just keep up with me. We need to hurry so no one will see us.”
Hawk started pulling her along with him down the steps, into the misting rain. He rushed her along the walkway, and through the gates. At the pavement, he turned right and suddenly they were running in the rain, down the street past the dark houses, the tall hedges, and the flickering streetlamps.
Chapter 25
A gentleman should always understand what a lady needs, even when she doesn’t know what it is she wants.
A PROPER GENTLEMAN’S GUIDE TO WOOING THE PERFECT LADY
SIR VINCENT TYBALT VALENTINE
Loretta’s feet were freezing as they splashed in puddles. A steady light rain beat down on them. Hawk held one of her hands securely in his, and with her other hand she held the hood of his heavy cloak on her head. She had no problem keeping up with Hawk’s longer stride in her low-heeled satin slippers. She had no idea where they were going or why they were going so fast to get there. She only knew it was exciting and invigorating to run in the rain with Hawk.
At the end of the street, they turned another corner, ran a few seconds more, and then climbed four steps and stopped in front of tall double doors with large iron handles. Hawk pulled on one of them. It didn’t open. He yanked on the other door. It didn’t budge, either.
“Damnation,” he muttered softly, and hit the door with the heel of his palm.
“What is it?” she asked, her chest heaving hard from the running, and her whole body shivering from the wet and cold.
“It’s locked,” he answered on a heavy breath.
Loretta pushed the hood farther up her head so she could see. She still hadn’t caught her breath, but managed to ask “Where are we?”
“At a church.”
“Church?” She choked out the word. She hadn’t been to a church since she left Viscount Denningcourt standing at the altar waiting for her to join him to say their nuptials. A nervous jerk shook her. “Why are we here?”
“You’ll see,” he said, looking from one side of the building to the other. “Keep your hood on and stay here.” He turned away.
She caught his arm. “No, wait. You can’t leave me here.”
Hawk put his hand over hers that held on to his arm. “I’ll be right back.”
Fighting to control her wildly beating heart, calm her breath, and make sense of this, she tightened her hold on Hawk’s arm and stayed him. “Where are you going?”
“To find a window at the back to break and crawl inside. I’ll come around to the door, unlock it, and let you inside.”
“Hawk!” she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, shivering all the more. “You can’t do that.”
“I can. When the hell did they start locking the doors of a church?” He glanced at her. “Sorry about the disrespectful language, but just how are people to get in when they need to?”
Startled by his intense exasperation, she offered, “They wait until morning when the doors are open to all.”
“I’m not waiting.”
“You can’t break into a church,” she said in horror at what he’d planned. “Have you gone mad?”
“No,” he said as calmly as if he’d been talking about the weather as he again looked down one side of the building and then the other. “I’ve finally figured out what you need to do and I intend to see that it’s done now.”
“I do not need to break into a church!” she said as loudly and earnestly as she dared.
“You’re not. I am. Now stay right here in front of the door.”
Loretta watched, stunned, as Hawk ran down the side of the building and disappeared around the corner. Was he actually going to shatter a window in a church? Moments later, she heard glass crack and fall to the ground.
She gasped.
He really meant it.
She heard a carriage in the distance and quickly turned and put her face to the door, hoping that with the misting rain, the driver wouldn’t notice anyone was standing in front of the church—that had just been broken into! The wind howled and rattled signs, streetlamps, and rooftops. Loretta’s toes started going numb again. She felt as cold as ice that collected on the outside of windowpanes during the deepest onset of winter.
It seemed like hours that Hawk had been gone and longer still before the carriage passed without anyone calling out to her. She kept her body still and faced toward the massive door until finally she heard the latch thrown from inside. Her body trembled with relief. The door creaked open, and Hawk gently pulled her inside.
It was dark. Cold. All she heard were their loud breaths. At first she saw nothing, but then down toward the front, a single small, lamp burned low on a table.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ve checked. There’s no one here.” He took her hand and they walked down the aisle toward the light.
She couldn’t say she wasn’t wary. She was. A church wasn’t a place she’d planned to ever go again. Her last experience in one had not turned out well. She didn’t know what Hawk was planning to do; but in her heart of hearts, she knew she wasn’t afraid. Whatever he had in mind, if he was by her side, she had no fear.
They stopped in front of the lamp and Hawk lowered the hood from her hair. He smiled and said, “You’re wet.”
She smiled, too. “So are you. You didn’t even have a cloak. And what happened to your hat?”
“You needed the cloak more than I did. My hat blew off while we were running.” He raked his dripping hair away from his forehead with his hands and laughed softly. “Have you figured out why we’re here?”
“No,” she answered truthfully. “I can’t say I expected ever to step a foot in a church again.”
Hawk took off his gloves, stuffed them in the pocket of his coat, and then took both her hands in his. “We’re here because you’ve been adamant that your vow was made in the church. That meant something to you when you said it. I admire you for honoring that. But now it’s time to let it go, and this is the place for you to do it. You took your oath in a church and this is where you need to recant it.”
Loretta’s breaths halted in her throat, but somehow she managed to whisper, “What?”
“Recant it. Here and now.”
Her shivering returned. “I—I can’t.”
“You can.” He squeezed her hands tighter. “If it’s wrong, this is also the place for forgiveness, too. Just ask for it.”
Loretta couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. She’d never thought about coming to a church, the place where she’d made the vow, and recanting it.
“Did you forgive your uncle for banishing you to Mammoth House?” Hawk asked.
“Yes. You know I did. I told you.”
“And you will forgive Farley for stealing from you. Maybe not yet, but in time, even though what he took was precious to you.”
“Yes. I will. In time.” She shook her head. “No, I probably already have. He’s only a wayward boy. It’s not his fault he’s had no one to help him know right from wrong and how to behave.”
“And you, Loretta, can be forgiven for recanting a vow you were forced to make when you were an eighteen-year-old girl. Forgiveness should be given to everyone who asks for it.” He pulled her closer to him. “You can’t change the number of seconds in a minute, the length of an hour, or the days in a week. But you can change your future. Recant and save yourself from a life you were never destined to live.”
Hope grew inside her. Could she do it? Was Hawk right? Was it up to her to save herself? All he said sounded rational. She looked around the small church. Stone wal
ls held few adornments. There were several sconces, three tapestries, and a small stained-glass window. It was cold and deeply shadowed, but suddenly a warm, peaceful feeling settled over her. Her body relaxed with an almost liquid quality to it.
“You deserve to do it for yourself, but if you won’t, Loretta, then do it for me.”
She looked into Hawk’s eyes and without further thought whispered, “I recant the vow I made to never marry.” She smiled and then added, “To the duke, with love.”
An almost painful sigh of relief passed Hawk’s lips as he whispered, “Yes.” He laid his forehead against the top of her head. “I didn’t know if I could convince you to do it.”
“You were right,” she answered, swallowing a small lump of emotion that had formed in her throat. “I needed to do it here. It feels right. Gone. Over. I know I’m free from it.”
Hawk lifted his head and touched his lips to hers in a brief, gentle kiss. He then straightened. “Your lips are cold.”
“My feet are freezing, too,” she said, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“I should have realized that after all the pools of water we ran through. Let’s get back to my house.”
Hawk once again lifted the hood over Loretta’s head and they turned and ran up the aisle, out the church doors, down the steps, and away into the rainy darkness. Fate was with them once again. No carriages passed them along the street. They rushed through the iron gates and up the steps.
At his door, Hawk stopped and guided her to the far side of the portico, away from the light. “I know you’re cold, but you must stand here in the shadows for a little longer. I don’t want a blemish on your reputation. I’m going inside to send someone to ready my carriage and bring it around front so I can take you home. If Price or anyone else is up, I’ll send them to bed so they won’t see you when we go inside.”
“There’s no need for that,” she offered. “I can wait out here until the carriage comes.”
“No. You’ve been in the cold long enough. It will take time to get someone dressed and off to the stable, and then to get the horses harnessed and hitched to the carriage. I won’t leave you out here that long.” He cupped her cheek lovingly. “Remain here. I’ll be right back for you.”
Loretta nodded and Hawk disappeared into the house.
The wait wasn’t long. Within minutes, Hawk opened the door again and ushered her into his house, down the corridor, and into his book room, where he shut the door and locked it. He led her over to the fireplace. Looking around, he grabbed a woolen blanket off a chair and placed it on the floor. Taking the damp cloaks from around her shoulders, he threw them aside and helped her sit down. He then bent to his knees and went to work building a small fire.
When the flame caught the wood, Loretta extended her legs toward the heat. Hawk sat down, and then with some effort stretched and wiggled his foot until he tugged off first one damp boot and then the other, placing them before the fire.
He turned to her. “Your hair and clothing are damp. Just like the first night we met.”
“I was remembering that night, too,” she answered, softly. “But tonight my toes are so cold they’re feeling quite numb.”
“I know just how to take care of that.”
He then moved closer to Loretta and slowly reached for her. He lifted one foot by her ankle onto his lap and slipped off the soggy, satin slipper. Laying it close to the fire to dry, he rubbed her cold foot in his warm hands before he put it down and treated the other the same way. He then grasped her ankles again and positioned her feet up tight at the junction of his legs and gently closed his thighs around them. From the bottom of her feet, Loretta felt the hardness beneath his trousers grow firmer. Her breasts tightened and a quiver started low in her stomach.
The warmth from his body permeated all through her, instantly bringing her comfort. She was certain that his heat was hotter than the now leaping flames of the fire he’d built.
His gaze caressed her face. “How does that feel?”
“Heavenly.”
He smiled. “For me, too,” he said, slowly rubbing his hands up and down her ankles and lower legs.
“Do you have any regrets about what you did in the church?”
“No.” She shook her head emphatically, inhaled deeply, and let her breath out slowly. “It’s not that I hadn’t thought about being free of the oath. I wanted to be free of it. I just didn’t know how to do it and be able to live with myself after. I have no regrets about what I did, and though I still have some unsettling feelings swirling inside me to sort out, I know I’m free of the vow.”
“What troubles you now?” His hands slid farther up her legs. “Is it me, Loretta?” he asked huskily. “Are you conflicted in your emotions for me?”
Without the slightest hesitation, she answered, “No. I know exactly how I feel about you. I meant it when I said to you, with love.”
“Good. Because I know exactly how I feel about you, too.”
Though it was so enticingly warm where her feet rested, she pulled them out of Hawk’s grasp and scooted between his knees. Looking into his glorious blue eyes, she said, “I have no doubts about what I want right now.”
“Neither do I.” He pulled a pin from her hair. “It will dry faster if it’s down.”
She smiled. “Then let me help you.”
“You do understand this means you belong to me, don’t you?”
Loretta nodded, enjoying the soft stroke of his hands in her hair and the warmth of the fire to her back.
“Not as a lover or a mistress, but as my wife, my duchess. Forever.”
“Yes,” she whispered as the last pin and lock of hair fell around her shoulders. She just didn’t know if her uncle would. But that thought was for another time. Tomorrow. Not tonight.
Hawk’s strong, masculine arms slid around her back. He caught her up tightly to his chest, and tenderly covered her mouth with his.
Loretta leaned into him and wound her arms around his neck. His lips moved smoothly, tenderly, and effortlessly over hers, slanting first one way and then the other as their bodies strained to get closer. Their tongues swirled and plundered deftly in each other’s mouths. He tasted of brandy, smelled of shaving soap. They kissed over and over again before his lips made a trail of light, delicious nibbles down her neck to the base of her throat and back up to her lips once more.
When she felt him trying to shrug out of his coat, she grabbed the lapels, shoved it off his shoulders, down his arms, and helped him fling it away. He then pulled on the bow of his neckcloth and started unwinding it from around his neck. Though she wasn’t sure why, it seemed natural for her to unbutton his quilted waistcoat, tug the tail of his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, and slip her hands underneath the front his shirt. His skin was warm, taut; rippled muscles covered his ribs and upper chest.
His loud intake of breath pleased her and he murmured a husky, “Yes, that feels good.”
His tongue continued to explore inside her mouth while his hands pulled and loosened the laces at the back of her bodice. Desire settled low in Loretta’s abdomen, between her legs, and she moaned softly against his lips as their kisses and caresses became more frantic.
The bodice of her dress slipped off her shoulders. Hawk kissed his way down her neck, across each bare shoulder, and along the swells of her breasts. He pulled the top lower. Eagerly, she helped him slide the long sleeves down her arms and off her hands, leaving the fabric to fall around her waist. Working together they did the same with her shift, all the while kissing passionately, desperately, as if they might never have opportunity to be so intimate again.
Hawk’s hands moved up her rib cage to fondle her breasts, lift them free of her stays, and cover them with his mouth. Loretta moaned softly and gave herself up to all the glorious sensations his gentle touch spread throughout her. She savored every tingle that rushed through her body and every sigh and endearment she heard whispered past his lip. The impatient but tender gliding movemen
ts of his hands and mouth thrilled her. Over and over again he favored her breasts. She delighted in every touch, every taste, and every moan that came from him while she enjoyed exploring the expanse of his muscular back. She felt power in his firm, broad shoulders.
Even though she was still delirious with pleasure, Hawk stopped kissing her. With one easy movement, he rose to his knees and gazed down into her eyes. “Are you warm now?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered.
“So am I.”
He shrugged out of his waistcoat and threw it aside. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, too.
The fire was the only light in the room, but it was enough. Loretta’s breaths quickened at the sight of his bare, masculine chest so close to her. It amazed her at how firmly his muscles filled out his skin from the top of his shoulders to his flat stomach.
She smiled at him.
He chuckled softly. “Are you enjoying looking at me?”
“And touching you, too,” she said and ran the palm of her hand over his chest. “You’re beautiful.”
“I am not beautiful, Loretta.”
“You are. To me.”
“You know that night, so long ago now, that we had dinner at Mammoth House? You were dressed in pale yellow. Almost the color of candlelight.”
“I will never forget that night.”
“When I walked in and saw you standing before the fireplace you looked like an angel to me. You still do.”
“I am not an angel,” she whispered.
“You are to me,” he said huskily, echoing her words, letting his fingertips glide easily from one side of her chest to the other, from the swell of one breast to the other, and down to her very sensitive nipples where he caressed her gently.
A tremor shook her body. Shivers ran along her spine, down her abdomen, to gather and settle between her legs again. She watched while he unbuttoned first one side and then the other of his trousers, letting the flap fall, revealing the bulge beneath his underclothes.