The Marriage Bargain

by Blaise Kilgallen

  Next Emily glanced at a piece of furniture holding a porcelain bowl and a metal pitcher. Rising shakily from the bed, she toddled over to the washstand. Thank goodness, the ewer contained plain water, so she poured some into the bowl and dunked a rag in it to wet it. Gently, she wiped her face, grateful for the wet rag swishing across her hot cheeks. Drying her hands, she tilted the pitcher and let water dribble into her mouth. She swirled the tepid liquid around in her mouth and spit it out in the basin. Her mouth and throat still parched, she gulped down more water from the pitcher. Her stomach roiled unexpectedly, and the water almost shot back up into her throat. She swallowed fast, pulling in a few deep breaths to keep it down. Then she stumbled across the floor and plopped her backside again atop the bed. She felt woozy, light-headed. For a few minutes more she didn’t move, hoping her head would clear even more so she could remember what she was thinking when she awoke. But nothing much came to her. She knew she ate supper and conversed with the earl, but beyond that, her mind was a blank.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, Gavin had strolled leisurely along the village’s only thoroughfare. He stopped briefly in a tavern for a mug of ale, all the while wondering how Emily had fared with her hangover. Holding her close when he carried her up to her chamber, he became conscious of her warm, womanly voluptuousness, arousing his male sensibilities. He hoped for a night of carnal pleasure when she surprised the wits out of him and suddenly threw herself against him, kissing him fiercely. He knew she was foxed, because she babbled at the table, spouting witty nonsense about Wilma Porter, her family, and herself. Unfortunately, she then either passed out or fell asleep. He knew then he may as well set aside any notions he had about making love to her. Not that night, at least. But perhaps soon. After all, sex before marriage was not unheard of in his illustrious circle even if the couples were not yet betrothed.

  Daylight fading, so Gavin wandered back to the Blue Boar Inn. Mounting the stairs by twos, he tapped on Emily’s door.

  “Who’s there?” a raspy voice called from behind the oak wood.

  “Leathem,” he responded loudly. “May I come in, Emily?”

  She opened the door.

  “Do you mind if I come in?” he asked, repeating himself.

  Emily hesitated but gestured to him to enter and latched the door behind him.

  She leaned against it as the earl’s midnight eyes roamed over her from head to toes.

  “Dare I hope you are feeling much better?” With that statement, he walked past her and unceremoniously tossing his top hat on a nearby chair. “By the look on your face, you have all but recovered. Has your headache also been cured?”

  Emily nodded. After dressing herself, she had ordered a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread and a crock of churned butter, and a bracing pot of hot tea. She felt much better as she spoke. “Forgive my disgraceful behavior of last evening, Leathem. I can’t imagine what came over me.” She twined her fingers together in front of her. “Tell me, how long have I been asleep?” she asked. “I am never this much of a slugabed.”

  Gavin’s expression remained mildly amused. “You slept all of last night and most of today. But don’t apologize, Emily, since most of it was my fault.”

  Perplexed, she asked, “Your fault? I don’t understand.”

  Gavin ducked his head and coughed, a masculine smirk hiding behind his palm. “Do you remember anything at all about what went on last evening?”

  Emily grimaced, letting her frown deepen. “I’m not sure. I don’t recall much after I joined you for supper.” She shot him a hasty sidewise glance. “Do you s’pose what I ate made me woozy?”

  He chuckled, but felt it only fair to explain. “Nonsense! No one tampered with your food. I am the culprit. I plied you with too much red wine. I thought you drank wine with your meals every day.”

  “I don’t,” she replied. “I take only a small glass or two in the evening.” Then, seeing his smile growing wider, she winced. “Oh, good heavens! How much wine did I drink last evening?”

  “We shared a full decanter. To tell the truth, it had little effect on me, but…”

  “Argh! You got me foxed!” She glared at him. “No wonder I can’t remember things! I think you did that on purpose!”

  “Slow down, Emily. Give me a moment, and I’ll explain.” The stern command in his tone altered. “Listen, to me, will you?”

  Emily felt irked by embarrassment, but she frowned at him and waited to hear him out.

  Gavin began by reminding her about the witty tales she told him about her and Wilma as young girls. “I must say, I rather enjoyed them.” His stern tone had softened. “I got to know you and Wilma better; somethings I never knew about you during the time we spent at Carlisle’s or yesterday in the carriage. For that bit of knowledge I shall be eternally grateful. And, seeing you being a little tipsy, I never knew you being so forthcoming about yourself when I hired you.” He winked at her.

  Her reply was candid. “There were things I rather you didn’t know about me when we first met,” she retorted, boldly. Her eyes collided with Gavin’s and locked for a long moment on his until she blinked and looked away. “So that’s all? Nothing else happened out of the ordinary. I did nothing wrong or improper to embarrass myself? I simply fell asleep?” She paused. “At least I remembered now and again waking up because I knew I was still wearing my day clothes.”

  “I asked a maid to help you out of them earlier this morning.”

  “Oh, good. I thought perhaps you may have…”

  Noting a wicked shine coming from deep in his dark eyes, she wondered if he was fibbing. Were there more things he hadn’t told her? “Are you sure nothing improper took place? Did I, perchance cast up my accounts?”

  He grinned and chuckled softly. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped. “Well, not that, at least.” He had dodged her questions, and her irritation showed. “If I can’t remember missed parts of my day, I expect you to fill in the details.”

  “Well,” he began with another mischievous male grin. “For one thing, you threw yourself rather forcibly into my arms and began kissing me. Rather unexpectedly, I must say.”

  “What? Oh no! I couldn’t have! You’re making it up!”

  Gavin laughed out loud. “Ahh, but you did just that, my dear. Why would I deny it? You all but seduced me. Rather awkwardly, I must admit, but nevertheless, it happened right here in this very room.”

  Emily squeezed her eyes shut and groaned Mortification heightened the pink flush on her cheeks. She reached up and covered her face with shaky palms. “I can’t believe I did that!”

  “Well, there’s no way around it,” Gavin said, his deep baritone pleasantly firm. “Now you have to agree to my offer.”

  Chapter 24

  THE earl had mentioned during their discussion that marriages of convenience were often quite tolerable. His bargain was not a deliriously happy one in Emily’s estimation. She had always fantasized about a marriage based on love—like one her parents had. When she realized she had fallen in love with Leathem, she wondered if she could live under the constraints within those convenient marriage vows.

  The earl stood before her now, his unyielding gaze focused on her. He proposed a contract between them that promised a polite, aristocratic life enhanced by luxury and well-being. But unexpectedly she had recently discovered she was no longer penniless. Instead, she was rather wealthy. Perhaps, she should ask him for a different proposal. Gavin leaned toward Emily and reached out a large hand, smoothing his palm across the warm skin of her cheek. “Other kinds of marriages are possible,” he whispered very low, “so if you wish ours to be otherwise, it can be more than just convenient.” He tilted her face up towards his and slowly dipped his mouth downward, brushing his lips lightly over hers.

  Leathem’s knowing mouth stirred currents of desire bubbling through Emily’s bloodstream.

  Our marriage need not be pl
atonic? Oh, did he really mean what he said!?

  Emotion plunged Emily over a powerful waterfall of hope and feelings, some of which she recalled quite vividly during that treasure hunt. And some of which she felt even more strongly while on the duke’s balcony with Leathem.

  Gavin’s warm palms now cradled her face, tenderly, keeping her under his control. His next kiss began almost avuncular until a blunt fingertip pressed her bottom lip open and teased her mouth apart. “Yes—just like that,” he whispered, his coaxing tones quite irresistible. “Let me inside, sweeting. I wish to taste you again.” Too hungry to wait for her answer, he plunged his probing tongue into her mouth.

  Emily let him do what he wanted. All sorts of sensations rolled swiftly through her. She clung to him, craving his touch. A wicked sinfulness, a devilish need, became part of her, shocking her. Leathem’s passionate kiss was mind-bending and deliciously intimate. Excitement intensified. Emily was lost in a plethora of new feelings as they coursed through her, anticipating pleasures she had never yet experienced.

  A steely arm crushed her hard against Leathem’s broad chest. She felt the earl’s heart pounding next to hers, his breathing accelerating. She didn’t stop him when he slid a hand up her ribs and captured a breast. His fingers squeezed her flesh…unexpectedly…but strangely exciting and pleasurable—especially when he ran a caressing thumb over a sensitive nipple.

  Quivering arrows of delight darted to her deepest core. She heard a low, keening sound, and realized it came from her. Her breath fluttered, drawing in new air to fill her parched lungs. Pulsing, throbbing sensations persisted in very odd places, especially between her thighs.

  “Are my caresses at all tolerable, Emily? Tell me what you’re feeling, sweetheart,” Gavin asked, his deep, baritone sounding raw, his warm breath blowing hot across her skin. He shifted his mouth, and licked the skin on her smooth throat.

  “Oh my,” Emily sighed, wordlessly, as she clung to him.

  Gavin spun her around and lowered her backside onto the room’s only padded chair. He bent one knee and knelt in front of her.

  Was he going to repeat his marriage offer? She wondered.

  Instead, Leathem picked up one of her half boots, slid it off, and placed her stocking-clad foot atop his raised knee. Before she knew what he was about, he pushed the hem of her skirt up to her thighs.

  Shocked, she shoved at his big hands. “My lord! What you’re doing is wicked!”

  “I s’pose it is, Emily. But it isn’t like I haven’t seen your legs before.”

  Her curvaceous limbs lay long and smooth below the hem of her chemise, bare above her stockings. Gavin’s eyes roamed over them. Her tender, pearly-white feminine skin had probably never seen the sun. Nor had it been touched by any man, he was certain. A faint, musky but enticing odor drifted up to his nostrils from the damp muff of hair sprouting between her thighs. He inhaled deeply, adding another powerful pulse of male desire to his arousal.

  “You saw my legs? When was that?” she asked sternly.

  “On the wilderness path.” He smiled. “And last night, when you seduced me.”

  “I did not seduce you! I would never—”

  Ignoring her gasp of modesty, he bent and kissed a bare thigh, his bold lips and tongue sliding wetly over an unsullied patch of flesh above a dainty, blue garter she had knotted to hold up her stocking.

  “No, please stop, my lord! You mustn’t!” Emily pleaded, unable to leap out of the chair because Leathem was kneeling directly in front of her, so she couldn’t step over him.

  “Let me show you what our marriage could be like.”

  Emily watched helplessly as the earl shoved her skirt a little higher. His hands were warm and insistent, first caressing a stocking-clad ankle, a rounded calf, and next, the naked skin above her knee. He shocked her again when his wet tongue licked a spot just above the garter. Clutching the chair’s arms, Emily hissed out a soft moan from between her teeth, unable to stop what his persistent tongue was doing to her body and mind.

  Wetness she couldn’t control leaked between her thighs. Her lungs throbbed, matching the rhythm of the rapid thud of her heart. She felt giddy with pleasure, overwhelmed by the extraordinary sensations rampaging through her.

  “I think I wanted to do this ever since we met,” Gavin shot back, his dark, velvety eyes piercing hers. “So, no, Emily, I won’t stop kissing you. Relax, sweeting. I promise I won’t hurt you, but I will show you what you may have been missing.”

  Emily was lost to normal thought. The earl had taken over her body and her senses. Every part of her now tingled anew with delicious vibrations. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Even though she ached for more. She muttered a weak protest, but she didn’t really want him to stop. She wanted what Wilma described she had felt with Lord Harry. She wanted to experience all those wicked things, or she may never know what it was like to make love with a man with whom she cared. He was worldly and experienced. He ought to be the one to show her what she wished to know!

  So she relaxed—and acquiesced.

  She was taken aback, however, when the earl rose from a bended knee and picked her up. He swiveled, not too gently, and laid her on top of the bed. Swiftly grabbing her ankles, he stretched her out lengthwise. Quickly, he removed his jacket and waistcoat.

  Emily stayed where he put her, unmoving, one stockinged foot still inside her other half boot. Emily watched as Leathem lowered himself down beside her, reached out, and pulled her against his full length.

  * * * *

  Arousal was instantaneous for Gavin. He felt as green as a youth making love for the first time. His erection thickened, stiffened, and pulsed against his doeskin breeches. Emily was a virgin. If he took her too eagerly, if he rushed her, he would frighten her. But he remembered the taste of her on his tongue which almost overcame his desire to do lots more than he should.

  He made love many times with women during those two decades, but now he focused on only one. Emily Dancy. That unexpected attraction hit him hard the first time she walked into Fielding House.

  Three words now hammered in his brain.

  Make her yours.

  They were—alone—the perfect time to accomplish his wish.

  “I want to make love to you, Emily,” Gavin whispered in her ear.

  Exciting, coaxing words she had never expected to hear, hovered against her cheek.

  His hot breath teased her. Strong teeth tugged on a tender earlobe; shivers crept across her bare nape.

  Gavin felt Emily tense, rigid as a fence post. He murmured, “Have you made a decision?”

  Instead, Emily deepened her breathing, but said nothing.

  “Your acceptance will humble me, sweetheart.”

  “Please…don’t…speak, m’lord,” she mumbled, her throat as dry as desert sand, her words all but inaudible. “Just…umm…ahh…”

  Gavin rolled to his side; nothing washed away the powerful torrent of need rushing through him. He seized Emily’s mouth again, a grunting, needful sound escaping from deep in his chest.

  A long gasp bubbled up from her throat.

  What would my parents say if they knew I am in bed with an earl but not one I am wedded to? And what will Wilma think? Would she say her bosom bow had become a brazen harlot?

  “Remove your hairpins,” Leathem demanded.

  Emily did what he asked, pulling out a few tortoiseshell hairpins and tossing them onto the pillow. With no lady’s maid to tame her unruly tresses, she had simply tied her hair back with a ribbon. “God, your hair is like a lovely, dark halo around your head. Are you some kind of angel, Emily?” Gavin couldn’t help himself. He raked fingers through the silky strands, spreading the ebony tresses into a large fan on the pillow. Long forgotten sensations erupted beneath fingers he hadn’t felt since he was much younger. His grip tightened on her hair. He ached to wrap the raven strands around his hand, inhale its intoxicating perfume, and bury his lips in the satiny te
xture. He had always loved touching a woman’s hair—smelling it, caressing it, draping it over naked parts of him when he made love. Now he swallowed. “You’re so damn beautiful,” Leathem rasped out. “I dreamt of seeing you like this. You haunted my days and my nights for weeks. Did you know that, sweetheart?”

  When Emily didn’t answer, he stroked caressing fingers through her hair again, and angling her head so he could kiss her more ardently. She lay unmoving beneath him, his lips again seeking her ear and nibbling on the tender lobe. “So soft, so tender and sweet,” he muttered, the hot tip of his tongue twirling inside the delicate opening.

  Gavin next undid the front of her gown. One by one, tiny pearl buttons popped out of their holes. He tugged gently until the gown opened and gave way. He lifted Emily up slightly, slipping the gown off her shoulders, letting her arms glide out of the sleeves. The open bodice slithered down to her waist. Gavin yanked the hem of her skirt higher, the fabric bunching at the bottom of her torso. He leaned down, and removed her other half boot. Untying a garter, he stroked Emily’s slender ankle and calf as he rolled the silk stocking off before doing the same thing to a second one, and leaving her legs totally bare.

  Tossing the filmy stockings and ribbon garters to the floor, he picked up one of her bare feet, raised it to his lips, and kissed each small toe before moving further over her curvaceous instep. Silent, determined, slowly he kissed Emily’s ankle and calf and moved upward to her knee, pressing another wet, torrid kiss on the pliant, silken skin of her naked thigh.

  Emily had donned no corset, simply a semi-sheer chemise. A satin ribbon tied in a bow, held the chemise’s wide neckline on her shoulders. Gavin yanked at one end of the blue ribbon and the bow easily came undone. His eyes alight with desire, Gavin met Emily’s wide-eyed gaze. “I mean to make love to every single part of you.”