The Seduction of Scandal (Scandals and Seductions 5)

by Cathy Maxwell

  “We did nothing. You made the escapade twice as hard by involving yourself in it.”

  “Well, I beg your pardon,” she said, her own temper rising. “If you had been home to receive Mandy’s message, you could have gone yourself. I would have sat by the fire waiting for your return as patient as Penelope.”

  He snorted his opinion of that image.

  “As it is,” she continued, “you were busy toadying up to Lord Bossley and you weren’t anyplace close enough for us to reach you. Oh, wait! I know. I could have sent one of the village boys over to Lord Bossley’s table with a note addressed to the Thorn. ‘Excuse me, Lord Bossley, but the man who has been robbing you blind is sitting at your dinner table. Would you like me to fetch the noose now? Or should we do it later?’ ”

  “Stop your sarcasm,” he said, his face contorting in anger. “This is not a jest. The danger of the soldiers aside, you could have broken your neck riding Roman.”

  “We did right well this evening,” she returned stoutly. “And I’m sorry if you want me to wait upon your bidding, but a decision had to be made and I made it. Perhaps you think I thought wrong, but an innocent man’s life was at stake.”

  “And you were the only one who could rescue him? Lady Corinne, darling of the ton. From the moment I set eyes on you, you’ve been nothing but a problem. Always prying into what doesn’t concern you—”

  “I care about people,” she shot back, but his words hurt.

  “If you cared about them, you’d stay out of the way.”

  Corinne doubled her hands into fists. She’d have loved to box him around the ears. What hurt was the fact that there was some truth to what he was saying. If he hadn’t arrived, she would have been in trouble. She’d imagined a daring rescue, not a trap.

  “You make me so angry,” she said. “I don’t even know how you knew where we were.”

  “John McBride ran into Mandy, who told him the story,” Will said. “He came riding for me. No note at the table, so very sorry. And I’m not angry at you, Cory—no, yes, maybe I am. You foolishly risked your life.”

  “And what would it matter to you?” she charged. There were tears in her eyes now. She blinked them back. “I’ve been a nuisance, a pest—”

  He shut her up with a kiss.

  And not just a normal kiss, either.

  She’d been kissed before. Pecks, slobbers, fish swallows—but she’d not been kissed like this.

  The moment his lips met hers, it was as if she’d been born to kiss him. Their mouths melded together as if this was the most natural state for the two of them.

  Corinne couldn’t think, couldn’t reason, all she could do was close her eyes and savor.

  He smelled of the night.

  He smelled of man.

  He smelled good. He felt good.

  Will broke the kiss. He released his hold on her and, fortunately, kept a hand on her arm or she would have just fallen face forward.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It wasn’t right.”

  “Wasn’t right?” she repeated, still befuddled by the kiss. His words confused her. “Will, you’ve never done anything more right.”

  And to show him what she meant, she came up on her toes, threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss of her own right back.

  There was a momentary hesitation from him. A last pang of his good conscience, she supposed—but she would not be denied. Not any longer.

  Kiss me, she silently ordered and pressed her lips to his harder. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me . . .

  And, at sweet, wonderful last, he did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Will had never been as frightened in his life as when he’d been confronted with the scene of Cory dressed as the Thorn and surrounded by soldiers. Fear had made him powerful.

  And fear had made him angry with her.

  Fear had also been what had kept him away from her. He’d feared what would happen when she left, whether or not he could recover, whether he could ever love anyone the way he’d come to love her.

  Yes, love.

  His being pulsed with it—and in her kiss, he realized she loved him in return. No hesitation, no doubt, just love.

  Of all God’s glorious gifts, love humbled, amazed, and stirred him in a way he’d never anticipated.

  Suddenly, the journey of his life made sense. Every experience, every challenge, every passage had been moving him to her. She now kissed him as if she could connect their souls—and she did.

  He was hers. Forever.

  Will touched her tongue with his, experimenting, wanting more.

  Her lips curved into a ticklish smile, then, tentatively, she returned that intimate touch.

  Will thought he’d lose it right there. Lust was a heady thing and he’d held his in check for far too long. It was a wonder he had an ounce of brains left.

  He didn’t know who started undressing whom. Their hands seemed to be everywhere. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his, to be inside her. And she was equally anxious.

  Theologians who argued for a chaste life obviously didn’t know what it was like to have Cory in one’s arms. She was his siren. He’d wanted her from the very second he’d laid eyes on her all those years ago, but over the past weeks he’d come to know and respect her. She was everything he admired. Resilient, honest, independent . . . and the greatest blessing of all, she was his.

  His senses were full of her. He untied the rope at her waist, swept aside her jacket, pulled the shirt over her head, discovered her breasts.

  She was perfectly formed. Her skin was warm, hot even. Strong muscles flexed and played beneath his hands. Her nipples were shell pink and hard.

  Her hand slipped inside his breeches. She found him, stroked him as boldly as she did everything in her life, and it was his undoing.

  How could he hold back when she wouldn’t?

  His lips found her ears, her neck, her eyes, her nose. His hands grew bolder, slid beneath her clothing to cup her buttocks, pulling her closer to him.

  She bit his ear, whispered an urgent, “Please, please . . .”

  He was mindless with arousal. With need. He lifted her up. Her breeches fell to the ground. He wrapped her stockinged legs around his waist. If he didn’t have a release fairly soon, he would combust into thin air like a flame that escaped its fire—

  He entered her in one fluid, deep, smooth movement.

  Startled, Cory broke the kiss. Her eyes widened, her body tensed.

  Will felt the tear.

  Reason asserted itself. He feared he’d hurt her. He held very still. His breathing was tight, labored. “Cory?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “I’ve hurt you,” he said and started to back away.

  Her hands grabbed his shoulders. “Don’t you dare move,” she ordered. “It was just unexpected. But it’s . . . nice?” She released the breath she was holding. He felt her expand, accept him. Her clear eyes met his. She frowned.

  “Is this all there is? After all that, this is it?”

  Will gave a shaky laugh and her brows raised in surprise. “I felt that,” she whispered. “I felt your laugh all the way through me.”

  “And how does it feel?” he wondered, uncertain how much longer he could keep himself at bay. Love had turned him greedy. He had to have all of her.

  “Laugh again,” she ordered softly. “I think I like this.”

  Music to his ears. “Cory, I’m going to do more than laugh,” he promised and began moving.

  She gasped, sighed, and then moved with him. Her arms tightened their hold around his neck. Her lips kissed a line along his jaw. Her tongue found his ear, and when she whispered, “This makes running around the countryside so worthwhile,” Will thought he came undone.

  He thrust now, deep and hard, his arm around her waist,
holding her for him. That they were both partially dressed added to the moment. The scent of her, the scent of them drove him to madness. He moved faster, his straining muscles begging for release while his soul begged for them to go on forever.

  If Ashcroft, Freddie, Bossley, her parents, and the whole of London had stormed the reiver’s hut, they could not have taken him off of her. He adored her vitality, her perfect feminine beauty, her ability to fit exactly right with him.

  “My beautiful man,” she murmured. “My beautiful, perfect man.”

  He didn’t talk. He couldn’t. He was using all his energy to pleasure her.

  This was the meaning of life. This moment, this woman, this—dare he say it? Holy, yes, holy connection. She’d been meant to be in his arms. And he never wanted to let her go.

  Her breathing came out in small, shaky gasps. There was a tightening in her, a quickening. He held her tighter, finding his voice to whisper her name.

  Deep muscles claimed him. He experienced her satisfaction just as he found his own release. He was deep, deep within her, and for a second, they were suspended in time.

  Dear God, how he loved her.

  The life force of this man flowed through her. The world as Corinne had known it ceased to exist. It was replaced by stars, thousands and thousands of blinding stars. No one could have brought her here. Only him. Wonderful him.

  He came down to his knees, bringing her with him. He held her with gentle concern.

  She knew he’d experienced exactly what she had. She could see it in his face.

  Oh, yes, life made perfect sense.

  Of course she’d had to run away from Freddie, from expectations, from duty—otherwise, she wouldn’t have been here.

  For a long moment, she rested in his arms. Her bones had turned to jelly. She had no wish to move. But eventually, the cool night air tickled her backside.

  He pressed a fervent kiss against the top of her head. When she looked up, he kissed her mouth.

  She practically purred with enjoyment. He was kneeling and balancing her on one knee. She combed his hair with her fingers, liking the silky feel of it.

  “I hurt you?” he asked, concerned eyes pleading with hers.

  “I’ll be sore on the morrow,” she predicted. “But,” she added as his concern started to turn to alarm, “that was the most incredible experience in my life. Is it always like that?”

  “Only when one is in love,” he said, leaning down for another kiss.

  She stayed him by placing her fingers against his mouth. “Are you in love?”

  His eyes were still dark with spent desire. They must have mirrored hers.

  Her mother had warned that men needn’t feel passion or even attraction to claim a woman. She’d heard her brothers sniggering over conquests. She’d been so caught up in Will’s kisses that she’d not questioned her actions . . . but wait. This was Will. He wasn’t like any other person in the whole world, let alone the rest of his sex. This man had honor, integrity.

  “I’m in love,” he said.

  If she hadn’t been in his arms, she would have jumped and danced. As it was, she threw her arms around his neck and happily declared, “I’m in love, too.”

  The force of her movement cost him his balance. They fell to the floor in each others’ arms, kissing, smiling, kissing again.

  Love. He loved her.

  She would glue herself to his body and make him take her everywhere with him.

  He sat up first, came to his feet, and helped her up.

  Their kisses grew tender, loving.

  They were both still half dressed. It was comical, and they had to laugh, until he started helping her undress completely. She helped him and in short order they both stood naked in the moonlight.

  Will took her hand and led her to the cot in the other room. This time, their lovemaking wasn’t desperate. They’d crossed a barrier. They discovered trust.

  When he entered her this time, there was bit of pinch of soreness, but passion eased it. She cradled him between her legs, reveling in his weight on her body.

  This time was even better than the last. The cot was as rickety as she remembered, and the threat of it collapsing caused much laughter. Laughter and love. Corinne felt she had the best of all worlds.

  They didn’t leave the hut until the wee hours of the morning. Riding Roman home, they were decidedly an odd couple, what with both of them wearing breeches. Corinne sat sideways, safe in Will’s arms. She’d stretched muscles she hadn’t known she had, but he held her as if she was the most precious thing to him.

  Will had proven to be a good lover. A strong one. She ran a hand over the shadow of his beard. It scratched the back of her fingers.

  His lips curved into a smile and he caught one of her fingers with a kiss.

  “I don’t want to return,” she said.

  “I know,” he answered, but he kept riding.

  “How did you ride to find me with the soldiers?” she wondered.

  “I took McBride’s horse.”

  “How did you explain leaving to Lord Bossley?”

  “Any of the many excuses I’ve used for parish duties. He never questions them.”

  “Excuses?” A thought came to Corinne. She frowned. “You were late to the dinner party for Freddie and me. Was that an excuse?”

  His smile widened into a grin. “I hadn’t planned on attending that night. After all, Freddie was marrying the woman I’d loved from afar.”

  “Did you really love me back then?” she wondered softly, touched by the thought.

  Will turned serious. “Yes. Not only do I think I did, I now know I did.”

  “And you couldn’t stay away from me, and so that is why you arrived late to the dinner party?” she guessed, delighted with his admission.

  “Yes,” he admitted with a laughing sigh. “It is true. I couldn’t stand being away wondering if you were still as beautiful as you were years ago.”

  “What did you think?” she had to ask.

  “I thought you were beautiful, but I was certain I could walk away from you. In fact, as I remember, you were the one following me—”

  “I was not—”

  “In the library?” he reminded her. “In the coach?”

  Corinne laughed. “It all did work to my advantage, didn’t it?”

  “And to mine,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  She sobered. “I’m not leaving, Will. I’m staying with you, wherever you go, whatever you do.”

  “I don’t know, Cory—”

  “You said you love me.”

  “I do.”

  “Then wherever you are, I will be,” she promised. “Don’t you understand, Will, by running away I’ve defied my parents, my family, society, and I couldn’t be happier. At last, I’m living my life. And I’ve found you. The life the two of us will have together is worth giving up all that I’ve known. I don’t care if we leave England. I won’t lose you.”

  “And I won’t let anything happen to you. Cory, for my own well-being, I must know that you will protect yourself.”

  “You will protect me,” she insisted.

  “With my life,” he vowed. He was silent a moment, then said, “I have something Bossley wants.”

  “What is it?”

  “No, I won’t tell you. But that is why he’s hunting for the Thorn. If he catches me, take care of yourself, Cory. I’d be driven to madness if I thought any action of mine would hurt you. Promise me you will do this.”

  “Nothing will harm us,” she answered. “We were meant to be with each other. I know this.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not superstitious. I pray, but in the end, I know we make our own choices. Be wise, Cory. Please don’t hesitate to deny me if it means your safety.”

  She could never do that, but
she understood he would not accept her claim. She also knew that if he kept playing the Thorn, they would capture him.

  “How much simpler life would be if you were just a parson and I some village maid. Or perhaps you’d be what you are in your heart, a healer? Mr. Norwich, physician.” She liked the sound of it.

  “That’s not our world,” he told her.

  “I can wish.”

  “If wishes were horses—”

  “—then beggars would ride,” she finished.

  They’d reached the rectory. All was quiet. Will let her off at the back door before he took Roman to his stall and settled him in.

  Corinne waited for him in the kitchen. He took her hand, led her upstairs to his bed, and made love to her again.

  Later, as he slept in her arms, she reflected on how she really wasn’t going to walk well in the morning, but being in his arms, coupling with him, was worth the price of a few sore muscles.

  Her one regret was a sense of foreboding that had settled upon her and wouldn’t leave.

  Will called her superstitious. He was wrong. Something was coming their way. She could feel it, and the only thing she could do was hold him tight and pray they could see it through.

  The next morning, Will did not want to leave the bed. However, he also knew that the wisest course, after having seen the soldiers last night, was to be seen out and about. His goal now was to protect Corinne. At all costs.

  He tried to be very quiet as he dressed. He knew she was tired and needed rest. Yesterday had been a long one for the two of them, but he’d woken this morning feeling more content and at peace than he ever had before in his life. His Cory not only fascinated him but she also said things he needed to hear.

  The time had arrived to make the Thorn disappear. Perhaps there was another way to help Bossley’s crofters and tenants. Will had gone to an extreme.

  He also knew that no matter how desperate circumstances became around Ferris, he couldn’t touch the French gold. Bossley was looking for it.

  Will wasn’t about to turn Bossley in. He owed his foster father some loyalty. As long as the gold stayed hidden, then Bossley couldn’t betray England and Will couldn’t betray Bossley.