by Jane Goodger
“I can’t believe so much evil lives within him. I know Gerald. I always thought he was a bit strange, but I never would have thought him capable of murder. All those men. It’s overwhelming to think of.” Alice let out a small sob, and Henderson gathered her against him, making low soothing sounds.
“I don’t want you to cry, because there is something else I need to tell you.”
Alice let out a watery laugh. “I’m not certain I can take much more of your news.”
He chuckled and gave her a quick kiss. “This is good news—well, mostly. The night before he died, Joseph made me promise never to touch you.”
Drawing back with surprise, Alice said, “He did? Why ever would he do that? And how could you possibly think that is a good thing?”
“At the time, it wasn’t, of course. You were walking by and I looked at you and I suppose Joseph saw something in my expression that angered him. It might have been that I wanted to make love to you; it was all I could think of at the time.”
“Truly?”
“Truly. Then he died, and I thought it was suicide and I left. And you kept getting engaged but never married. Think of it. What are the chances that one girl could have so many weddings called off? Why, one fiancé even died in the church. I think it was Joseph trying to bring us together. If he was looking down from heaven, he surely knew I loved you and that I falsely believed I was responsible for his death. I think he’s been trying to right a wrong all this time.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “You think Joseph killed poor Lord Livingston?”
“Not in so many words, but I think it was fate and Joseph was behind it all. Everything has aligned to finally bring us together, and I’m convinced that Joseph has been watching and likely getting a bit frustrated in the process.”
She smiled softly. “It is nice to think.”
“There, see? I told you there was some good in all this. Now all we have to do is convince your parents to allow you to marry me.”
“My mother is very nearly convinced already, but I fear my father will be a bit more of a challenge. I’d never realized how strongly he felt about society’s rules. Then again, his father is a duke.”
Henderson leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “I’m very rich, you know. I realize that does not matter in terms of bloodline, but I could give you the life you are accustomed to. You wouldn’t suffer in that way.”
Letting out a small laugh, Alice said, “I know. Apparently St. Claire was intrigued by you and did a bit of detective work. How wealthy are you?”
“Wealthy enough to make your father reconsider how worthy I am of you. I was a man driven after I left England. I worked endless hours and built a bit of an empire, only to see that very empire cause the deaths of millions. I couldn’t have foreseen what would happen when England built all those railroads. If I had, I would never have made such investments. I sold my shares when I realized, of course, but the damage is done. That is why I feel so strongly about famine relief. Guilt is a powerful incentive, and it seems it has driven nearly all my decisions for years.”
Alice gave him a small punch to the arm. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for the famine. My goodness, Henny, you’re just one man.”
Rubbing where she’d hit him, even though it had merely been a tap, Henderson nodded. “I do realize that. I invested blindly in a railway company as hundreds of men have before me and I made scads of money, which was my only intent. It wasn’t until four years later, after a terrible drought, that the full effects of what we had done became evident. I was like all Englishmen, thinking improvements to a country’s infrastructure would lead to modernization, would help the natives become more civilized, more like us. It wasn’t until I lived amongst the people for years that I realized the English do not know the true meaning of civilization. I’m afraid I’ve become a bit of a progressivist in the last four years.”
Alice was quiet for a time, digesting all he had said, her admiration for him growing even stronger. “You are such a good, good man, Henderson. I think that perhaps I am not worthy of you. And I am going to do everything in my power to prove to my parents that to have you as a son-in-law will only reflect well on them.”
“Thank you,” he said softly.
* * *
Henderson was moved beyond speech by what Alice said, and he counted himself among the luckiest of men to have such a woman love him. He’d been sickened by the thought of telling her about her brother, about his small role in the famine in India, not knowing what her reaction would be. But there she sat, leaning her head against his shoulder, making him feel like a man worthy of such a prize.
“My mother was pregnant with Joseph when they were married.” She said it quickly, as if it had been bubbling up inside her, straining to be released.
“Is that so.”
He felt her nod. “I’m not certain what I shall do with that information, but I may use it during my argument to gain acceptance of our marriage.”
“That would not be nice,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement that she would consider such a thing. “And it would do nothing to remove their real objection, that I am not worthy of you.”
She let out a small snort. “Then I suppose I shall have to tell them we must marry post haste because of certain possible consequences.”
Henderson leaned back and looked at Alice in disbelief. “We cannot tell such a lie, Alice. I will not agree to such a tactic.”
“It won’t be a lie,” she said, looking up at him with complete innocence, an innocence that belied the implication of her words. He knew what she meant, and his body reacted immediately, his cock springing to life. Suddenly, he was aware that they were alone, that she was wearing almost nothing, that it would be a simple thing to lay her down on the cool, sweet grass and make love to her.
Which was why he could not quite believe the words that came out of his mouth next. “We cannot.”
Even with only the moonlight, he could see her smile. Was it his imagination or was that a provocative smile?
“We can. And it’s not only because I want to force my parents’ hands if need be. It’s because ever since that night we were together, it is all I can think of. Something happened that night. Something woke up inside my body and now it’s driving me a bit mad.”
Henderson shifted uncomfortably, his arousal becoming nearly painful. What man could say no to such words? Ever since she was fifteen years old, he could never say no to her, even when he knew what she asked was wrong. Perhaps she hadn’t realized all those quiet nights alone in the library were wrong, but he knew. And yet, one impish smile, one pleading sentence, and he would return, night after night, to read aloud and talk and pray that no one ever found out. If he were completely honest, the idea of making love to her, of creating a life inside her, was heady stuff.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said softly.
The sound he let out was much like that of a man being tortured. “Never think I don’t want to make love to you, but I can hardly toss you down on the grass and have my way with you as if you’re some milk maid. Not for your first time.”
She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss. “I have a blanket,” she whispered.
“A blanket.”
Nodding, she kissed him again. “I think lying underneath the stars atop my big soft blanket will be heaven.”
When Alice rested her hand against his chest and kissed his neck, he was lost. In one move, he hauled her onto his lap and kissed her deeply, his hand finding the lovely curve of one breast, his palm pressing against the hardened peak. He heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled, then groaned when she wriggled her soft bum against his aching cock. “You little tease,” he said, chuckling. “Where did you leave that blanket?”
Alice let out a delighted squeal, much as she used to when he would agree to whatever book she’d been begging him to read, and crushed herself against him, making him laugh aloud. “I fear I wi
ll be one of those husbands who is completely ruled by their wives.”
“Of course,” she said without hesitation, then stood, dragging him up with her. Tugging on his hand, she led him to the terrace stairs, where a small bundle lay, already damp from the night air. He grabbed the blanket and allowed Alice to bring him wherever she wanted. He was her slave, following her wherever she wished, doing her bidding for whatever she wanted.
Alice led him behind a hedgerow, which shielded them from the house should anyone look out, even though it was unlikely anyone would be able to see them from that distance. Other than the crickets, the night was silent. It was an unusually warm evening, the kind of rare night in St. Ives when winter and its colder temperatures seemed a lifetime away. Together they laid out the blanket, an astonishingly intimate exercise, then lay back, side-by-side, and gazed up at the infinite stars above them.
“We’re going to make love,” Alice said, sounding all breathy and a bit nervous.
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow, I shall speak to my father, to see how violently opposed he is to our marriage, and then we can decide how to proceed.”
He took her hand and pressed it against his mouth. “I’d rather not force your parents if we can at all avoid it. I fear their opinion of me will only lower further. Agreed?”
“Agreed. Shall I remove my clothes now?”
Henderson smiled, for she sounded so brave and he knew she must be a little nervous, despite the intimacies they had already shared.
“Not entirely, just in case someone should come upon us, I think it might be better to push your gown up a bit.”
Alice tugged her skirt to just above her knees. “Like this?” she asked, laughter in her voice, and Henderson growled, reached down, and pulled her gown up, past her hips, her flat belly, the turgid peaks of her breasts, until a soft mass of cloth lay bundled just beneath her chin.
“My God, I’d forgotten how beautiful you are. How could I have forgotten?” he said, drawing his hand up her impossibly soft skin, from her hip to her breasts. Dipping his head, he took one hard nipple in his mouth and sucked softly, loving the sounds she made, and the way her hips began to move, a silent request for him to touch her. He skimmed one hand down her taut body, past her soft curls, until he rested his palm against her core and pressed.
“Please.”
Henderson closed his eyes, that one word making him even harder. He found her slick opening, then pressed one finger inside, slowly, cautiously, ready to withdraw should she pull away. But Alice moaned and spread her legs, and he nearly let out a shout of joy that she was so responsive to his every caress.
“I shall put myself here,” he said, creating slow a rhythm with his finger.
“Oh.” Her breathy response sent another wave of lust through him.
“Do you remember the last time, how it felt?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make you feel that again, before…before.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice small, making him think for just a second that he should stop. She sounded frightened.
“We don’t have to—” He started to withdraw his finger and she clamped a hand over his to stop him.
“What? Why would you say such a thing?”
“You seemed frightened so I…”
She was giggling. “I was not frightened, Henny, I was so distracted I could hardly speak. Please, do not stop or I shall have to murder you.”
With a low moan, he kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue inside her sweet mouth, and commenced torturing her with his finger between her legs. Kissing his way down her body, pausing for long moments at her breasts, he found with this tongue the small erect bud between her legs, teasing and sucking until she was bucking beneath him.
“God, Henderson.” She clenched her legs around him and laid one hand atop his head, and he reveled in the sounds she made, her soft words urging him on, until she let out a small scream, finding her release.
* * *
Wave after wave of delicious sensation coursed through her body, leaving her limbs boneless, her heart pounding madly in her chest. She was dimly aware of Henderson kissing her stomach, one breast, her chin before she heard the sound of him removing his shoes and trousers. Then she felt his manhood between her legs where his finger had just been. The effort to lift her hands to touch his shoulders, his back, was nearly impossible.
“I love you, Alice,” he said, then thrust inside with one quick movement.
“Oh.” It hurt a bit, a sharp burning, but it was such a glorious feeling to realize the man she loved was joined together with her, that this act was somehow sealing them together. He was still, his muscles taut, and his arms, braced on each side of her, shaking slightly.
“I hurt you,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
“Only a little.” She couldn’t stop the grin. “Look at us. We’ve done it now, Henny. There is no turning back.”
Henderson laughed and dipped his head to kiss her as he moved slightly back before pushing inside her again. “You feel so good,” he said, his voice strained. “Impossibly good. Better than my imagination.”
“You imagined this?”
“Every night.” He laughed. “Every minute.” He began moving, in and out, letting out manly sounds that told Alice he was feeling much the same type of pleasure that she had just felt. And then, a wonderful thing started to happen. That feeling, the warmth and tingling that told her a release was building, began again. Every time he thrust, the feeling grew, until her body began to react, until she was once again seeking that glorious feeling she knew was within her reach.
Her breathing changed, and when it did, Henderson’s rhythm changed, became faster, harder, driving even more of those sensations through her body, as if he were completely attuned to her. When he reached down between them and touched her aching nub, Alice let out a sound she hadn’t realized she was capable of making, a high keening that Henderson stifled with a kiss as her body convulsed around him. His thrusts quickened and then he drove deep, his entire body taut and hard, and he let out a deep groan of pure pleasure. It was the most beautiful thing Alice had ever experienced in her life. They were lovers and she was fiercely glad of it.
Chapter 18
Late the next morning, for she had overslept, Alice stood outside her father’s door, gathering the courage for what she needed to say. No doubt her mother had already discussed Henderson with him, and she wondered what her father had said. Probably not very nice things, given how angry he’d been the night of the ball.
It had been five days since the ball, and from the laughter she occasionally heard from her father’s room, he was doing much better. He might not be hale and hearty yet, but certainly he could have a candid conversation with his daughter without falling ill again. She hoped.
In the wake of her glorious night with Henderson, Alice felt nothing could ruin her buoyant spirit. Even her maid had mentioned that she seemed to have a glow about her this morning, and Alice could not stop the blush from forming on her cheeks. She could still feel him there, between her legs, a soreness that she’d never felt before, that reminded her again and again of what she’d shared with Henderson.
Alice could hear the murmuring of voices and thought she recognized her brother’s chuckle, so she entered the room without knocking, still fearing that she would be sent away. Instead, her brother welcomed her with a smile and her father held out his hand for her to take. The relief nearly brought her to tears.
“Good morning, Oliver. Papa, you look nearly well enough to run to the village and back.”
“I am much better, thank you, and looking forward to seeing the doctor later this afternoon so I can convince him I’m more than ready to get out of bed. All this lying about cannot be good for me.”
“A couple days’ more rest will not hurt, Papa,” Oliver said, and Alice laughed at his stern voice. She realized with a twinge that Oliver had been small
moments from being the man of the house, a position he fervently did not want. At least not yet.
“Oliver, would you mind giving Papa and me some privacy?”
“Of course.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, completely surprising Alice and making her eyes shine with unshed tears. Though she knew her brother loved her, he had never shown her affection, unless tugging ribbons from her hair could be construed as affection, and Alice was touched far more than he could know. Perhaps he understood how dreadful she’d been feeling about the entire episode.
After he’d left, Alice sat down in the chair her brother had occupied and took a bracing breath. “I don’t want you to think ill of Henderson, Papa. I love him dearly and it hurts to think of you at odds with him.”
To her disappointment, her father’s smile faded and he turned his head away.
“I wanted him to kiss me. I knew when I went out on that terrace that he would. If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with me.”
Her father gave her a quick look before turning his attention back to the ceiling.
“A gentleman would never have taken such liberties—”
“—without the benefit of marriage?” she finished for him, her tone rife with meaning.
It took perhaps two seconds for Richard to understand what she was saying. He stared at her for two beats, then, “Agatha.” It was not a question, but a pronouncement, and Alice understood that he knew what she knew.
“I am sorry, Papa. I wasn’t supposed to know but I do and I fear I must save you from hypocrisy.”
He let out a sharp laugh, then quickly sobered and shook his head. “It is not only that,” he said. “It is that Henderson’s background is not what I would have chosen for you. You must realize how inappropriate a match with him would be.”
“I don’t care. I love him, Papa, and he loves me. And perhaps best of all, he already loves all of us, despite your awful snobbishness.”
“So.” He moved his hands atop the covers, smoothing them. “I thought you swore never to marry.”