Lady Bess

by Claudy Conn

  Could he love her? Had he begun to love her?

  He saw her as an innocent. He saw himself as jaded. She had to do something to change that vision he had.

  She had to place herself in a position that would make him confront what he felt—and her instincts told her he did feel for her.

  She sensed that he believed he had been too much a libertine to offer for an innocent. So, she had made up her mind and conceived a plan. What if she were not an innocent? What if she were as naughty as he? As saucy as he? What then?

  Dinner had been served late, as she had told Anna they wanted to wait for the earl, but when eight o’clock came and went she finally gave in to Robby’s whining, and they sat to a quiet meal.

  Maddy had taken Thomas up soon after he finished his dessert, while she had still been playing with her food, unable to swallow very much.

  Robby eyed her and asked, “Not going to eat that?”

  “No, not really hungry,” she said on a half smile.

  He reached for it, and his wife slapped his hand. He turned to her and exclaimed, “No sense it going to waste.”

  “Robby!” Bess laughed and shook her head. “Where do you put it all?”

  He sat up straight and grinned. “Muscle.”

  His wife roared with laughter and then sat back to look at Bess, who sat across from her. She said soothingly, “When the earl left, Bess, I did have the impression he thought it might take all day.”

  “Yes, but it is quite late,” Bess said on a frown.

  Donna said nothing to this, and Bess sighed and got to her feet to do a tour around the room while Robby gobbled up the contents of her dinner dish.

  “You will choke if you eat so fast,” his wife said to him.

  He simply grinned and continued to stuff himself. The women exchanged glances as Donna rolled her eyes and laughed.

  Robby was done soon after this, and Bess followed them to the library, where a fire was waiting for them. Robby poured the ladies some sherry and a glass of brandy for himself.

  Anxious, Bess downed her glass and handed it to Robby to refill. He raised a brow but did just that, and once again Bess downed it.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a time, and then Bess got to her feet and refilled her glass. Robby barked a laugh. “You’ll end foxed, m’dear.”

  “Oh, let her—it is just what she needs,” said Donna, who stretched out her hand with her own glass and said, “Another, Bess, for me as well.”

  “Well, if you are serving, then I shall have another brandy.” Robby grinned widely.

  Bess laughed, and then once again they fell silent.

  With no sign of the earl, the next hour ticked by slowly. Bess sighed heavily, got to her feet once more, and said, “Well, then, I’m for bed.” She poured herself a larger glass of sherry and inclined her head before she started off.

  “Wait—we’re going up as well,” Donna said.

  At the top of the stairs, they bid her a ‘sleep tight’ and went off to their own guestroom suite. Bess turned down the hall and went into her room. A chill caught her as she undressed, and she shivered as she climbed naked into the bed and pulled the covers over her head.

  She’d lain there for an hour, unable to sleep, when she heard a man’s footsteps outside her door. The earl. Breathless, she waited, but though she heard the sound of the latch, as though someone had lightly touched it, no one knocked, and no one entered.

  She heard retreating footsteps and for a moment was caught up in a grand state of disappointment. It was then that she made up her mind.

  She took up her warm velvet wrapper and donned it as she padded to her bedroom door. She opened it slowly and stuck her head into the hallway. Of course, it was late, and no one was about.

  Hurriedly and yet quietly she made her way down the long, wide hallway to the earl’s suite of rooms, where she stood in the dark, undecided. Should I knock? Idiot, she told herself. Knock, indeed. You want to go in and climb into his bed and seduce him with passionate love. Does a woman like that knock? Nooo. Be that woman, she told herself. And there she stood, unable to go back to her room, unable to go into his.

  Ridiculous, she told herself. That is what you are. You think you are a modern woman who, like the Godwin woman, can throw caution to the wind and go after what you must, but you are just a silly girl who will lose all because you have propriety weighing you down. Shed it. Shed it now—go in there, be what you have to be, what you want to be. He is what you want. His kisses are what you want …

  Bravado took over, and she opened the door. He had not drawn his drapes, and the light of the new moon was on him as he stood half naked by his bed. She heard his intake of breath, and then he said, “Bess …” It was all he said. She ran to him, he took her into his arms, and all doubts were vanquished.

  That kiss, his kiss, his tongue at first fiercely taking ownership, became gentle, became loving, taught her tongue how to respond as he pressed her into his arms—and then suddenly he was setting her away.

  “Go. Back. To. Your room.”

  His voice sounded agonized. He didn’t mean it, she told herself. He was trying to look out for her. She knew it and disregarded his words. “No,” she answered and boldly ran her hand over his naked, muscular chest. She couldn’t say more, didn’t know how to put into words what she was feeling, what she wanted.

  “Bess, I am only human … you can’t tempt me like this …”

  “Yes, I can,” was what she answered, and she got onto her toes and nibbled at the nape of his neck because it was all she could reach as he held himself away from her.

  He turned, took her shoulders, and set her apart. “Go back to your room. You are an innocent, and I don’t want to—”

  “I want you to,” she said softly and dropped her velvet wrapper.

  He groaned and bent to pick it up to cover her naked body, but she threw it aside and pulled his hand to her breast. “You want me, I want you, nothing more—we can make this nothing more.”

  He moaned and with a growl took her back into his arms, kissed her lips, her ears, her neck, and then once again her mouth. This time his tongue did not gentle hers but ravished hers, and even though he was so much wilder than he had been a moment ago, even so, she felt something larger than passion move him. Something inside her was satisfied, and she knew, even if he didn’t want to admit it yet, she knew what he felt. He loved her. He really did love her, and that knowledge exploded the last of her inhibitions. She knew she was doing the right thing, at the right time.

  He spun her around and bent her onto his bed. Then he climbed up beside her and pulled her to him as he worked his breeches and released himself. He asked softly, “Bess, sweet lass … do ye know what ye are doing to me? Ye are blasting all m’principles, all—”

  She reached up and put a finger to his lush mouth to interrupt him. “I do,” she murmured.

  He seemed to want to make her run, for his voice sounded harsh. “Are ye ready, do ye think, lass, ye be ready for this …” He took her hand and put it to his shaft.

  She told herself he was trying to shock her. She was, in fact, shocked and murmured, “Oh, faith.”

  And then shock blossomed into curiosity, and curiosity exploded into passion. She stroked his hard manhood and then looked up at his face.

  He was lost to her and the moment. She saw it, and then the next thing she knew he was bent low over her and his lips burned a trail from her neck to her breasts, which he fondled as he suckled at her nipples.

  She found her body responding in ways she had not thought possible. She arched to his handling and felt her thighs clench and unclench and then repeat the motion as though that part of her body had a will of its own—had knowledge she had never been aware of before.

  His kisses took her away to another place where sensation ruled and conquered, took control and wielded her heart and mind into one.

  She didn’t know when or how he got his breeches off, but he suddenly was on his knees and st
aring with hard, bright eyes at her. “Ravishing, m’bonny sweet lass. Ye make me feel like a king.”

  “You are a king,” she whispered.

  He was down on her then, parting her thighs with his deft hand, his finger teasing the opening there as he whispered, “Hot honey … such hot honey.” And then his tongue followed his fingers and lapped her there in a way that built up her need to a point where she found herself moving and pumping against him, wanting something, wanting, and then it happened, her first climax, and he moaned with satisfaction. “There, love, I mean to make that happen for ye over and over …”

  She felt the head of his rod play with the opening of her cleft, and she was arching once more, groaning his name, telling him with a voice she couldn’t believe came out of her lips, “Yes, please, yes.”

  He started to enter, and suddenly she felt her body stiffen and resist. He would never fit, and she objected, “Oh … I don’t know …”

  He smiled, reached down for her rump, and lifted her to him. “I do.” And the next thing she knew she felt a sudden, searing pain, and he almost withdrew, but she held his arm and surprised herself with her wantonness. “Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t. He shoved himself inside her and began a series of movements, grinding her, manipulating her, kissing her nipples, her neck, her ears, her lips, and then she reached that next ultimate moment. She grabbed his strong arms as she pumped hard into him and said his name. “John, oh … John, yes.”

  “M’darlin’ lass …” he said with satisfaction. “Do ye want more … are ye able?”

  “Yes,” she cried, not wanting it to ever stop. He seemed to care more about her and what she needed than himself.

  He rolled her over with him, so that he was on his back. “Climb on, lass,” he said with a grin.

  Climb on? she wondered and hesitated.

  He laughed, took her waist, and positioned her. “Aye, let me help ye, love.” His voice was husky, and the tone of it swept through her. She wanted him in every way possible. Being with him was all that mattered at that moment, the way they felt together was so right, so meant.

  He stared up at her breasts hanging over him and groaned. “Beautiful, I canna even tell ye how beautiful ye are, how perfect for me.” As he spoke he guided himself inside her, took her hips, and showed her how to move to maximize their pleasure, and she was lost. She knew herself forever lost. Was this a mistake? No, she would never think this a mistake. This was love, she absolutely knew this was love, and before she was done he would know it as well, because he was so much better than he thought himself.

  * * *

  Later, much later, after they had dozed, she woke with a start, hoping she hadn’t slept too long, for she would have to get back to her own room. The dark made her sigh with relief, and he said, “Are ye all right, love?”

  His hand tipped her chin so that she had to look at his oh, so very handsome face, and she nodded. She cleared her throat and said, “Before I go, tell me, please, what did you find out? What are we going to do about Thomas, because Mary Russell was here yesterday and insisted on seeing him and won’t be put off much longer.”

  “I am taking him back to his father today, but we won’t be telling Mary Russell that. We will let it slip, instead, that if he is well enough, he will be on the Post Road tomorrow to his father, who has requested he be returned home. And then lass, ah, and then.” He sighed. “It is the devil’s own business, for it isn’t just Holland we have to be wary of. ’Tis Mary Russell.”

  She propped herself up on her elbow, and her eyes were wide. “Faith, what are you saying?”

  “Mary was next in line to inherit. She knew it, her uncle had told her so, but what she didn’t know, what he had just arranged before all this business, was that he left her a very fine stipend as he was aware her husband’s death left her with heavy debt.” He shook his head. “The squire was in shock and hurt, for he had a fondness for Mary Russell. It is my belief that she was paying Holland to take care of the dirty deed for her and be rid of the boy. He stood between her and a considerable fortune.”

  She pushed herself up to her elbows. “What are you saying? What are we going to do?”

  “Aye, first thing before she makes her way over here for a morning visit, let her know that Thomas will be, as I said, on the Post Road to home tomorrow after breakfast, and that all her dealings will then have to be with her uncle, Thomas’s father.”

  “You think when Holland finds this out, they will make another attempt at abduction.”

  “I do. It will be their last chance, but instead of Thomas, Holland will find me, and matters will change after that.”

  “But then you will be in danger.” Bess dove at his chest.

  He held her tightly. “Och now, what are ye saying? Doona ye think I can handle a fop of a fellow like Holland?”

  She gave him a half smile. “What if he hires horrible people to go after your coach?”

  “Again I ask ye, lass of mine, doona ye think I can handle them when I am fully expecting trouble?” He shook his head. “I have it all worked out. Tomorrow I take the boy to his father. The day after, I will be armed, and I have a plan that I know will work.”

  “Why put yourself in such danger?” she complained.

  “Och, look who is talking?” He chuckled and stroked her cheek. “It must be done, for the squire is too weak to handle such a pair, and the boy needs a permanent solution to maintain his safety. I have that solution. Doona ye trust me?”

  “With all my heart,” she said vehemently.

  She would have encouraged him to kiss her then, but he held her by the hand as he jumped out of the bed and pulled her up. She was reluctant and pressed herself to him.

  He reached past her, took up her wrapper from the edge of the bed, and said huskily, “M’darlin’ lass, please put this on, for the truth is, I doona have any control of m’self when I am with ye.”

  She smiled wickedly at him as she slipped her arms into it and felt him wrap the silk belt tightly about her waist. “I doona want ye to,” she said on a low, teasing, and hungry note.

  * * *

  “Off with ye now.” He chuckled and gave her rump a pat as he put her out of the room. He watched her vanish into the dark corridor and closed the door to lean back against it. Whew, he breathed with a heavy sigh full with emotion. He asked himself, “What have ye done, John of Dunkirk? Fallen in love, have ye? Aye, fallen in love.” He had known it the moment he had lowered her onto the bed. This was his savior, this lass, his life, his love. He had done something he had never done before: he had not withdrawn at the moment of climax. He had given her his seed because she was meant to be his—she was meant to be his mate, to bear his children—and he damn well was going to make her his for all time.

  What was his next step? Well, he had to get the boy safely to his father. He had to initiate his plan in secret, and that would take up some of his time before he left with the boy, so he had to bathe and move into action.

  When Thomas was safe, when this business was done, then he would return and speak to Bess’s father, who would hopefully agree to give his daughter’s precious hand to him. However, whether her father gave his blessings or not, she would be his.

  The Lady Bess would be his wife, and he would allow no one to stand between him and the love of his life.

  ~ Eighteen ~

  BESS SLEPT THE last few hours alone in her bed completely blissful, which caused her to sleep past her normal time. She woke with a start when Maddy knocked and called to her. She hurriedly bathed and dressed with Maddy clucking away at her but saying she looked even more beautiful than usual.

  “You do, my sweet, look absolutely ravishing.” Maddy sighed. “It is a shame the earl is not here to see you.”

  “Oh, did he leave already with Thomas?” Bess asked.

  Maddy looked at her in surprise. “Indeed, he did, but how would you know that? I thought it was a last-minute decision.”

  “Oh, as to that, I t
hink he mentioned that he was thinking of taking Thomas home to his father but that no one was to know about it.”

  “That’s right. He said the word is mum, that he wanted it kept a secret, as servants talk, and that none are to know, not even Anna. But he needn’t worry about that, or Anna, for they know the boy was abducted and that we were keeping him safely hidden here. Aye, he has a faithful staff, he does. They love the earl.”

  “Yes, well, the earl has a plan, though I am not quite certain what it is.” She felt a tingling sensation when she spoke of the earl. She felt warm and content inside her heart. She felt complete. And then she heard the sound of her father’s voice, and the first thing she felt was shyness spread through her system and play with her mind. She was a wanton woman. “Is that Papa’s voice downstairs?”

  “Yes, he came in about twenty minutes ago and is awaiting you in the breakfast room,” Maddy said.

  This woke her from her dreaming and sent reality spinning through her mind. Yes, a wanton woman was going to face her dear father. Would he know? How could he know? He didn’t know. She had to calm herself. “Oh, Maddy, why didn’t you tell me?” How would she face him, and why did she feel so not guilty? No, she didn’t feel guilty, a bit odd about what she had done, but not really guilty. Though she knew society would condemn her if they knew of her behavior with the earl, she did not condemn herself or agree with the rules, but she did feel absurdly shy about facing her father.

  “What was the point? You would have rushed through your toiletries and gone to greet him like a hoyden. Can’t have that in the earl’s home.” Maddy clucked again, as Bess was already out the door.

  She found the door to the breakfast room open wide and her father conversing happily with Donna and Robby, although she heard Donna say, “Oh, sir, I am not certain Bess is ready to leave yet … after this business with young Thomas.”

  “Nevertheless, we shall leave,” her father answered firmly.

  Shyness went out the door.

  Distress at the prospect of leaving took over. “Oh, we cannot just run out on his lordship after all his hospitality …” She couldn’t leave. How could she leave now?