She arched in response, filling his hands with her breasts. “I want you so much ….”
His response was a sensual growl in her ear. He gently pushed her down on the desk, one hand reaching under her skirts to caress her. He removed her drawers and placed his mouth on her. She writhed beneath his tender assault, sending papers to the floor. She was close to her release, teetering on the edge as he kept up the sweet torture.
“Oh, please!” she said breathlessly.
He undid his breeches and came into her then. She cried out, but it wasn’t over. He thrust deeper still, bringing her to orgasm again even as he sought his own. Afterward, he held himself above her on the desk, his breath slowing.
She smiled lazily up at him. “I didn’t expect this when I came looking for you.”
“Disappointed?” he grinned.
“Never.”
She licked her lips and brought his head down to hers. She kissed him deeply, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth. He groaned and kissed her back. He moved within her then, pleased to feel himself wanting her once more. She gasped and looked at him.
“Again, husband?” she asked, truly amazed.
“Apparently so,” he answered with a wicked grin.
* * * *
A few days later, they left London for Kanewood. Lord Roberts had since taken himself back to his own home, well on the mend. At Geoffrey and Becca’s insistence, he agreed to come for a long visit in the country sometime soon.
Geoffrey saw to John’s funeral, speaking not a word to Patricia as he made the arrangements. He’d had his solicitors draw up two sets of papers. One left her nothing of the estate. The other offered her a small stipend, should she bow to Geoffrey’s demands regarding little Ann.
Blessedly, Ann was kept away from the event. It broke Becca’s heart each time she thought of the little girl’s leaving, and she prayed that Geoffrey would find a way to keep her with them.
Lady Margaret cried softly at John’s service, holding tightly to Geoffrey’s arm. He and Becca agreed to tell his mother the truth, but not just then. The hurt was too fresh for all of them.
The day after the funeral, Geoffrey called Patricia into his office.
“What is this about?” she snapped. “I am in the middle of preparations, Kane. It will be no easy journey, traveling with a child and her nurse for God’s sake. Ann will surely be a handful.”
“Ann is the reason I called you here.”
Patricia blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “She wants her, doesn’t she? It’s not enough that she carries the Kane heir, she wants my child, too?”
“Patricia—”
“No! I have nothing left of John. And no money.”
Geoffrey leaned back in his chair. “Have you looked at the papers I sent to your room?”
She shrugged. “I glanced at them. They confirm what you told me. I get nothing!”
“Here.” He took the folder holding the second set of papers and slid them across the desk to her. “Take a look at these.”
Clicking her tongue, she grabbed the folder. Geoffrey watched as she perused the first page, then hurriedly flipped through the few remaining ones.
She lifted her head to stare at him, her mouth agape. “You’ll give me ten thousand pounds? And a stipend?”
“If you relinquish any claim on Ann.” He held up his hand. “Now legally, you remain her mother. But you must agree to have no contact with the child.”
She frowned, then a slow smile slid across her lips. “I shall miss her terribly.”
“Do not try to get more money out of me, Patricia. Ann will want for nothing, but my generosity does not extend to you.”
He watched as her slick mind worked, and suppressed his disgust when he caught the moment she made up her mind to accept.
“It will pain me, but I do want what’s best for Ann.”
“Of course you do,” Geoffrey said evenly.
“These papers seem to be in order, Kane. I trust your man of business.”
“Sign them.” He handed her a pen. “Sign them and you can be on your way.”
She did so, then stood. “I suppose we shall see each other in London now and again?”
“Not if I see you first,” he said.
She pursed her lips, then turned on her heel. “I am off to town, then. Tell the child …. Oh, tell her what you wish.”
With that, she took her leave. Geoffrey gathered the papers and set them to the side.
“Geoffrey?” Becca called softly from the doorway.
He gave her a smile. “She is ours, Becca.”
She let out a shout and clasped her hands. “Oh, may I …?”
“Go upstairs, love. Patricia won’t be saying her goodbyes and I’m afraid Ann may be confused.”
Becca nodded and hurried up to the nursery.
* * * *
Becca found Ann sitting on her bed, her little hands folded in her lap. She was such a sweet little thing, and now that she was to be hers and Geoffrey’s, Becca could shower her with all the love she needed.
“Ann?”
Her face brightened when she saw Becca. “Auntie, I’m off to London.”
Becca turned to the faithful Mrs. Riley, standing near an open trunk. Tiny clothes and such were tucked within. “Mrs. Riley, may I have a moment alone with Ann?”
The nurse opened her mouth, no doubt to make the obvious question, then nodded and left the room.
When she was alone with Ann, Becca crossed over to the bed and settled beside her.
“Ann, I’m afraid you’re not going to London.”
“But Mama told me we have to leave Kanewood.” Her face screwed up as she fought back tears. “I don’t want to leave, but Mama says I have no place here.”
Becca stroked her cheek. “You will always have a place here, Ann.”
Ann’s frown cleared. “Is Mama off to London?”
“Yes.” She worriedly watched the child for any unease. “Does that trouble you?”
Ann shrugged. “She is always in town.”
Becca took a breath and forged ahead with her news. “Your mama won’t be coming back.”
Ann blinked her big gray eyes. “Ever?”
Becca shook her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Ann chewed her lower lip, tears threatening again. “Mama doesn’t want me.”
“We want you, Ann.” She gathered the child in her arms. “Your Uncle Geoffrey and I will keep you with us. Here at Kanewood.”
Ann sniffed, pulling back to gaze up at Becca. “Truly?”
“Yes. Your mama will always be your mama, but you will be our little girl, too.”
Ann grinned. “Oh, that is lovely!”
Becca hugged her again, giving a silent prayer for the wonderful man who made this remarkable gift possible. So much had changed since she’d met Geoffrey, and she had somehow managed to grow into this new life with great hope for the future. She’d gone from her simple life at Raven’s to become a countess. She’d gained a wonderful mother in Lady Margaret, and received the chance to know the mother she’d thought she’d lost. And now? Now she was to be a mother herself, to the babe in her belly and to this sweet child in her arms. She felt more than up for the challenge. She was not the young, naïve girl she was a few months ago. No, loving Geoffrey had helped her find her strength. Perhaps she’d had it all along. But being with Geoffrey had helped her to see it. If she needed another reason to love her husband beyond reason, this was it. She smiled against Ann’s silky hair.
And she surely didn’t need another reason to love Geoffrey.
Epilogue
April, 1823
Lady Margaret watched her son, her lips curved in a small smile. Geoffrey paced the floor of the parlor, nervously tugging on his cravat.
“What is taking so long, Mother?” he asked her, not for the first time.
“Geoffrey,” she soothed, “these matters take time.”
He frowned at her, unhappy with the answer. They had
returned to London the previous month, leaving Ann in the care of Mrs. Riley. Though Becca hadn’t wanted to leave her, Geoffrey had insisted on Becca’s being attended by Dr. Morgan when her time came. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck up in the country if something were to go wrong, he’d told her.
He’d ventured into their chamber two hours earlier, only to be sent away by Mary.
“Her ladyship needs privacy, my lord,” she’d insisted. “The doctor and I will look after her.”
He’d grudgingly agreed and turned to go, only to hear Becca’s scream from within the room. He pushed the door open, frantic. “Becca!” he shouted, striding into the room.
Dr. Morgan waylaid him in the sitting area. “Kane, you must have patience. I assure you Rebecca is doing fine.”
Geoffrey had finally gone back downstairs, his fists clenched.
“Look at you,” his mother said with a smile. “Your hair is tousled, your clothes rumpled. The perfect expectant father, I daresay.”
Geoffrey stopped his pacing for a moment and let out a breath. “Thank you,” he grumbled.
“Have you thought of a name, Geoffrey?”
“We haven’t quite decided.”
He resumed his pacing.
“Rebecca is in perfect health. I’m sure if there was any problem—”
“Kane,” Dr. Morgan called from the doorway.
Geoffrey stiffened. His mother urged him to go see what the man wanted and he left the room to follow the doctor up the stairs.
“Is she all right, Morgan?” he asked.
“Just fine, my boy.” He smiled, letting Geoffrey into the chamber.
Mary was in the sitting area, her smile bright. Geoffrey was suddenly nervous. Morgan nudged him toward the sleeping chamber.
Geoffrey opened the door slowly, peeking his head into the room. Becca sat in the middle of the big bed, her hair fanned out on the fluffy white pillows behind her head.
She looked fatigued but wore a beautiful smile. “Geoffrey.”
He crossed the room to stand by the bed. He noticed the small bundle in her arms then. All that was visible was a tuft of honey-colored hair.
Becca loosened the blanket swaddling the infant to show him the perfect little face. “Your son,” she said simply.
Geoffrey looked from the baby to his wife and back again. He reached out his finger to gently stroke the soft little cheek. “So tiny,” he said in awe.
“He didn’t feel so when he was trying to come out,” she said with a small laugh.
Geoffrey smiled at that. The baby stirred, drawing his attention back. The second-most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen stared back at him.
“Becca,” he breathed, “he’s ….”
“Incredible?”
“Yes. And so tiny. Wait until your father sees him.”
Becca smiled. “Hopefully, that will be soon, my father and my mother both.”
She’d been able to convince Thomas to refute his testimony regarding Becca’s father’s supposed crimes and now her parents could come freely into England. Geoffrey guessed her own relationship with Thomas would take more than words to mend, however. He’d kept her mother from her, had lied to her the whole of her life. Hell, he’d nearly sold her in marriage. But that was a matter for another day.
“The big and burly Laird McClair will surely crumble when he sees his tiny grandson,” Geoffrey said.
He sat down on the bed, hugging her gently. He kissed her tenderly, so full of love he thought he’d burst. He’d nearly lost her more than once, this girl with emerald-green eyes and hair as black as a raven’s wing. He’d never let anything happen to her or to their children.
And Geoffrey Michael Kane, the seventh Earl of Kanewood, kept his word.
Author’s Biography
JoMarie DeGioia has been making up stories for as long as she can remember and has spent years giving voice to the characters in her head. She’s known Mickey Mouse from the “inside,” has been a copyeditor for her town’s newspaper, and currently works as a bookseller. She writes Historical Romances with a touch of mystery and Contemporary Romances with a touch of home. She divides her time between Central Florida and New England, and you may contact her at [email protected]
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