At Long Last

by Shirlee Busbee

  Both Arabella and Jeremy woke the next morning refreshed. They shared a large breakfast together, and Jeremy began to make plans to leave for Highview.

  "I would stay," he said to Arabella as she walked him to his horse, "but I know that Tony will be riding over tonight." A lush stained his cheeks, and he became interested in the shine of his boots. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "Tonight will be your true wedding night, and I don't expect the pair of you would want me hanging about."

  Arabella laughed and kissed him on his cheek. "So discreet, my dear. I must admit that you have surprised me lately; you have developed into quite a diplomat."

  "Well, dash it all, Bella! I ain't a child, you know."

  "Of course not," she said soothingly, watching fondly as he mounted his horse and prepared to leave. He was so young and believed himself to be so very adult, she thought, affection mingling with amusement.

  They spoke for a few minutes longer, and then Jeremy rode off in the direction of Highview.

  Arabella spent the remainder of the day trying to act normal, but it was difficult, her thoughts wandering to Tony and what the future might hold for them. By late afternoon, she gave up any pretense of normality and, telling Mrs. Tidmore that she was going to lie down for a while, escaped to her bedroom.

  Time crept by for Arabella. She lingered over her bath, dutifully ate the savory meal prepared by the cook and took a short stroll around the house in the deepening dusk. Though they tried to be unobtrusive, she had no trouble spying the four men she had set to watch the house. Their presence depressed her, pointing out as it did the fact that something strange and dangerous was going on.

  Not having any idea what time Tony would arrive, she eventually retired to her bedchamber. With care she donned a lovely pale yellow nightgown, the rounded neckline and little bell-shaped sleeves edged with fine lace. Lying alone in her bed, waiting impatiently for Tony's arrival, she did not think that she would be able to sleep a wink, but eventually her eyes closed, and she slept deeply.

  The downstairs clock was chiming out the hour of midnight when Tony, having avoided the men guarding the house, stepped into her room. Approaching her, he lit the candle that had been left on the small satinwood table near her bed, and, in the light from the dancing yellow flame, stared down at her.

  She looked lovely, her red hair tumbling like silken fire around her shoulders, her long lashes dark fans on her faintly flushed cheeks, and the soft swell of her generous breasts evident beneath the yellow gown. Tony sighed with pleasure, his heart so full of love for her that he thought it would surely explode.

  After tossing aside his jacket and tugging off his boots, with nary a care for the smudges he left on their glossy surface, he slipped onto the bed beside her. Whisking a lock of hair from her forehead, he brushed a gentle kiss across her eyes.

  "Wake up, sweetheart," he murmured. "Your husband has come to call." He kissed her again, this time softly on her rosy lips, and her eyelids fluttered.

  She opened her eyes and stared sleepily at him. "Tony," she said happily, still half-asleep. "I was dreaming of you."

  He smiled and nibbled on her earlobe. "Ah, but I am sure that you will enjoy reality far more than mere dreams."

  Her arms slid around his neck, a teasing gleam in the golden brown depths of her eyes. "You are no doubt correct... but perhaps you would like to prove it?"

  His eyes darkened and, bending his head, heedless of the silky material of her gown, caught one nipple between his teeth and oh-so-gently bit it. Arabella gasped and arched up as desire, powerful and elemental, sprang to life within her.

  His tongue and teeth busy with her nipple, with one tanned hand he pushed down the few covers that hid her body from him. Pleasing her as much as it did him, he ran a caressing hand from her thigh to her waist, his own passion rising with every passing second.

  Lifting his head, he glanced down at her. "Well?" he asked mockingly. "Is reality better than dreams?"

  Her fingers clenched in his dark hair. "I don't know," she teased. "Take off your clothes and let me see if memory has played me false."

  "Witch!" he said with a laugh as he rolled off the bed and dispensed with his clothing.

  Reality, Arabella thought breathlessly, as she stared at the broad chest and the rampant proof of his arousal between his muscular thighs, is much, much better than dreams!

  She reached eagerly for him as he came back to the bed, but Tony caught her hands, and said, "Oh, no, you don't. First we get rid of your clothes."

  Her gown was whisked over her head and flung on the floor. Sinking down beside her, Tony's hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving over her swelling nipples. Thickly, he said, "Every minute away from you has seemed an hour. All I have been able to think of the entire day is lying here like this with you."

  Arabella moaned with pleasure, his clever hands on her breasts stoking the fire that burned low in her belly. "I, too," she muttered. "I could hardly wait for tonight to arrive." Flinging her arms around his neck, she pressed an urgent kiss to his cheek. "Oh, Tony, I do love you!"

  "And I you, sweetheart. More than life itself."

  Enraptured, they stared at each other, hardly daring to believe that at last they were man and wife. It was a precious moment, one to be savored.

  "We are lucky, aren't we?" Arabella asked softly, her eyes shining like molten gold.

  Tony nodded. "Indeed we are, my love. We have each other and soon we shall have a child." He glanced down at her flat stomach, one hand reverently touching the area where their child grew. Dazedly, he said, "I can hardly believe that it is true. I fear that I shall wake and find that it is all a dream."

  Arabella smiled at him, her arms tightening around him. Lifting her mouth to his, she said huskily, "I am no dream, dear heart. I am your wife... and, oh-so-eager for your touch."

  They kissed, their mouths melding together, tasting each other as their tongues tangled in a duet as old as the moon. Passion already simmering between them became a firestorm, consuming everything but the need to possess: he her and she him. And yet, despite the fierce emotions that drove them, there was an innate tenderness in the way they touched, love tempering the blind urge simply to mate.

  Tony's hands were warm and gentle as they roved her voluptuous form, and the slow, languid exploration of her body made Arabella's breath catch in her throat. He touched her everywhere, her breasts, her slender waist, her taut belly, and the wet, aching place between her thighs. He stroked her there a long time, making her twist and pant beneath his caress. When his head dropped and he took one nipple into his hot mouth, tugging strongly on the hardened nub, Arabella could not suppress the primitive sound that erupted from deep within her.

  Blindly, she reached for him, her hand closing around the bulging shaft she found between his legs. Tony groaned as her fingers grasped him and began slowly, torturously, to work him. Gasping with delight and pleasure, Tony endured the sweet anguish she evoked, straining to prolong this wondrous, intimate moment.

  He found her mouth, kissing her with urgency as his delving fingers sank even deeper within her. She writhed beneath him, her movements becoming wilder and more wanton as his tongue plunged into her mouth and mimicked the frantic movements of his hand buried between her thighs. He gave her no succor, not even when her hips reared up violently beneath his hand, telling him more clearly than words that she was as ready for their joining.

  Fire humming in her veins, her body one long burning ache, Arabella tore her mouth from Tony's. "Please, Tony," she cried. "Please!"

  With a groan, Tony shifted and, cupping her buttocks, lifted her to meet his downward thrust. He sank heavily into her, the silken heat of her body closing tightly around him. Shaking with pleasure, Tony savored the moment. She was all sweet fire and soft silk beneath him, her nipples searing into his chest, her arms holding him tightly to her. It was carnal ecstasy.

  Unbearably aroused, Arabella was nearly mindless with pleasure when Tony's lips captured
hers and he began to thrust powerfully within her. Each deep thrust of his broad shaft, each blunt stab of his tongue, sent a bolt of erotic sensation through her. Eagerly she kissed him back, her hand at the back of his head, holding him to her; her hips, guided by his hard hands, as well as her own spiraling pleasure, rose frantically to meet his every thrust. It was a desperate ride, the urgent demand for relief from the primeval urges that clawed through them both blotting out everything but the passion of the moment. And when that sweet release came, when ecstasy caught Arabella and she cried out, Tony's lips captured her cry.

  Buried tightly within her, Tony felt her throb and clench around him. It was too much. Helpless in the wake of his own pleasure, with a shuddering moan, he spilled himself into her and sank slowly, deliciously down onto her silky body.

  Nestled together, they lay silent for a time, relishing the moment. Eventually Tony raised himself up on one elbow and, grinning down at Arabella, asked, "Well? Which do you prefer? Reality or dreams?"

  Her eyes gleaming in the faint light of the candle near the bed, Arabella murmured, "Perhaps I should have another, ah, sample, before answering that question."

  Tony laughed and dropped a hard kiss on her teasing mouth. "You shall have all the samples you desire, madam wife, but not, unfortunately, immediately."

  Arabella smiled at him and stretched luxuriously, her hands over her head. "Hmm. Now that would be one area in which dreams are far better. No waiting."

  "Why, you little witch!" Tony said, laughter dancing in his blue eyes. "I see that I shall have to show you that waiting has its own enjoyments."

  "Oh? And what are they?"

  "Allow me to show you," he said huskily, as he caught her hands in one of his and dropped his warm, seeking lips to her neck. And during the moments that followed, he showed her precisely just how enjoyable waiting could be.

  They made love all through the night, their couplings growing more desperate and frantic as the hour approached for Tony to slip out of the house. Lying locked in each other's arms after their latest joining, they both heard the big clock in the downstairs entry hall strike the hour of four.

  Tony sighed and gently disentangled himself from Arabella. "I have to go, sweetheart. I should have gone long before this."

  Watching him pull on his clothing, Arabella found her nightgown and slipped the garment over her head. "I know. It is just very hard to have to meet so clandestinely. We are married, and yet we have to sneak around like we have something to hide."

  Tony sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in his. Pressing a kiss to the back of it, he said, "I know, sweetheart. It is difficult for me to leave you. But for now we do have something to hide. I'll not have you placed in danger just so that I may sleep all night in your bed."

  Arabella pushed back an errant lock of hair. Gravely her gaze met his. "I do not mind so very much that our marriage cannot be announced immediately, but how long are we to be in this invidious position?"

  Tony shook his head. "I don't know." He smiled faintly and lightly patted her stomach. "We cannot delay too long, else our child will make the announcement for us."

  She smiled, too, but her smile faded almost instantly. "Have you any ideas on how we are to resolve the situation?"

  Tony shook his head. "No, but I have given it some thought." He hesitated and then, uneasily aware of the passing minutes, swiftly relayed his conclusions and the conversation with Patrick.

  Arabella was frowning by the time he finished speaking. "You think everything is connected?"

  "I do. It seems a much more logical conclusion than simply to rail at fate." His mouth tightened. "And until I am proven wrong, I am going on the assumption that one of my dear Daggett relatives has his eye on my fortune and is willing to stop at nothing to gain it."

  "But why kill Leyton and Molly?" Arabella asked reasonably. "They do not stand in his way."

  "No, but I think they knew something. Molly's connection is easy; she might even have threatened to expose him, to tell one of us who paid her to be at the lodge that night—and to make her damning announcement at the Crocker ball—which is why, I'm certain, that he killed her. Don't forget, Molly had been in Leyton's keeping." Tony frowned. "I'm speculating that Leyton learned something from Molly that made him dangerous to whoever is behind this."

  "Boots?"

  "For the present, he's my guess. It is possible that someone unrelated to my situation was there that day you came to call on Leyton, but I doubt it. I think, too, that he is the same fellow who paid you that unpleasant visit several weeks ago."

  He shot her a keen look. "He wanted something—something he thought that you had. Are you certain you did not take anything else with you that day?"

  Arabella shook her head. "Nothing except the portfolio containing the Greenleigh deeds, and we have already checked in it." She gasped. "Oh, and my reticule. But it was always in my hand." She frowned, trying to remember that afternoon at Leyton's. "Wait. When I placed the portfolio on his desk, I distinctly remember setting my reticule down beside it." Her eyes widened. "Oh, Tony, that has to be it! He was angry, or pretended to be, and he shoved the portfolio and my reticule on the floor. The portfolio and my reticule went flying, as well as several papers that had been on his desk. There were papers everywhere, and I was scrambling about trying to pick everything up. As soon as I could, I left."

  "In your haste could you have put something in your reticule?"

  "I suppose so." She grimaced. "If that is what happened, it's still in my reticule. Unfortunately that particular reticule is at Highview—I did not bring that one with me to Greenleigh."

  Tony muffled a curse under his breath, an anxious eye on the dim light creeping into her room from the French doors. "There is nothing that we can do about it at the moment," he said unhappily. "I have lingered too long already. Daylight is nearly upon us, and I must be gone."

  Pulling Arabella into his arms, he kissed her almost desperately. His expression fierce, he commanded, "Do not go to Highview. If there is something in that blasted reticule, I want to be with you when you find it." At the mulish look that crossed her face, he gave her a gentle shake. "Promise me, Bella. Promise me that you will not go to Highview and look for it yourself."

  He wasn't leaving until he had her word, and as worried about the passing moments as he, she finally nodded "Very well," she said reluctantly. "I shall not go to Highview."

  Tony didn't quite trust her, but he could not remain a second longer. Crushing her mouth beneath his one last time, he strode from the room and vanished into the misty mauve of first dawn.

  After he had left, Arabella wandered morosely about her room, wishing she had not given Tony her word. It was frustrating to be able to do nothing, simply to wait, while she was almost certain that the answer to at least some of the recent, unpleasant events might be resting inside the reticule she had carried the afternoon she had gone to call on Leyton. And the blasted thing was at Highview! Momentarily out of her reach.

  Then she brightened. Tony had made her promise not to go to Highview herself. There was nothing, she thought happily, to stop her from sending one of the servants to Highview to fetch her the reticule... and some other items of clothing in which to disguise the real purpose for wanting them.

  Pleased with herself, she sat down to make a list of various pieces of clothing she had decided that she simply could not do without. The reticule was neither the first nor last item on her list, and being doubly careful, she had even listed a second reticule.

  It was late in the morning before an opportunity to introduce the subject came about. She and Mrs. Tidmore had just finished cleaning out a cavernous wardrobe in one of the rarely used back bedrooms. Arabella was folding an old-fashioned gown to be given away to one of the other servants, when she said carelessly, "Oh, this reminds me, I shall have to send someone to Highview to bring back some more garments for me."

  "Very well, miss," replied Mrs. Tidmore. "If you give me a list of wha
t you want, I shall see that someone leaves immediately for Highview."

  A half hour later the list was safely on its way. Nervous about having circumvented the promise she had made to Tony, Arabella paced in the privacy of her room. Tony was going to be angry, she thought uneasily, biting her lip. She knew it was only fear for her that prompted his cautiousness, and that knowledge warmed her even as it made her frown.

  She straightened her shoulders and her chin lifted. Tony was her husband now, but that did not mean that she had become helpless or unable to make a decision without his approval—even one that might involve danger. He was, she thought warily, just going to have to learn that she could take care of herself and make some decisions on her own. There was no denying that she had a compelling argument on her side—what she had done was probably the quickest and easiest way for them to get their hands on her reticule... and what it might or might not contain.

  Chapter 19

  As Arabella had suspected, Tony was angry that night when he learned what she had done. But as she had already guessed, once he realized that she had placed herself in no danger and that the reticule would be in their hands on the morrow, he admired her quick action.

  They were lying in bed together, the hour sometime after two o'clock in the morning, and they had just finished making love. Tony had been too impatient and hungry for her for there to have been much conversation between them—other than fervent avowals of undying love. But having sated the most urgent of his needs, he was, for the moment, willing to relax and exchange news of each other's day.

  It wasn't as easy to blurt out what she had done as she had thought it would be. Glad to postpone the moment, she listened as he spoke of his day, including the depressing information that he had seen to the making of his will and that it currently resided in the office of a very disapproving Mr. Haight.