A Promise of Pure Gardenias

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A Promise of Pure Gardenias Page 26

by Williams, Jackie


  “And I want to see you too, feel you. Brendon, I want every part of you.” She turned her head and pressed her lips to his bicep, nipping the succulent skin that covered his corded muscles.

  Breathing heavily, he moved away from her, soothing her fears with a smile as he toed off his boots and released the buttons at his fall.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she sat forwards, reaching down to lift her chemise, but he took hold of her hands and pressed them to her sides.

  “Let me.” The fabric was gone in an instant, drifting to join his clothes on the floor. He moved slightly and pulled the midnight blue tie of her pale pantaloons, groaning as the material slipped lower, revealing the enticing dip of her navel. He slid the decadent undergarments from her slender legs and swallowed as he revealed her dark, silky curls. Her woman’s scent stirred in the air, intermingling with the fragrance of his favourite flowers.

  She cried out as he brushed his knuckles against the softness of her calves and slowly caressed higher, skimming the backs of her knees, her inner thighs, awakening lightning shocks with every stroke.

  “Brendon! I am burning!” Her back arched as his fingertips reached their prize.

  A gentle push spread her thighs and he groaned at the sight of the moisture gathered there. He glanced up. She stared back at him, her dark eyes wild with need. A need he was desperate to satisfy.

  “Don’t be afraid, but I simply have to...” his voice faded as he dipped his head to her secret place.

  The taste combined with the feel of her fingernails on his scalp almost sent him tumbling over a precipice the like of which he hadn’t known could exist. She bucked beneath him and cried out again, her whole body convulsing beneath him as her fingertips left his hair and fluttered across his shoulders.

  He couldn’t continue the torture, for her or for him. He rose up and rested his weight on his elbows, his lips capturing hers, his tongue delving deep as her thighs cradled his hips.

  And then he entered her.

  He sucked in a breath between clenched teeth. He hadn’t expected the heat, the fire which burned so hot and threatened to consume him.

  “Sophia!” He cried out her name as he thrust forwards, entering a world of sensation, of velvet and silk, of passion and desire.

  Until she stiffened beneath him, a tear leaking from her eye, and his heart cracked in two. The vision of Bessie’s bruised, tear stained cheeks rose up in his mind, a haunting, horrifying vision. He almost withdrew.

  And then Sophia dug her fingernails into his shoulders while raising her legs about his waist. She pressed her heels into his tight buttocks, pulling him deeper and refusing to let him go.

  “Brendon! I love you!” She cried into the morning sunlight as she took everything he had. The awful memory disappeared, floating away into the past and replaced by something beautiful. Sophia became his world, and he was lost, undone, enraptured.

  He moved slowly, as gently as he could, his breaths coming in great gulps of air, filling his lungs as his need rose higher until she lifted her hips in rhythm with his, and he plunged forwards, taking her, claiming her, possessing her.

  “I love you, Sophia! I’ll love you forever!” The words left his lips as the tingling sensation at the base of his spine suddenly gathered momentum and thundered through every nerve in his body, blinding him, branding him...And then there was nothing but bright light, and dust motes floating in the air.

  Sophia rubbed her nose, but something tickled it again. She pouted her lips and blew the sensation away. It came right back. She pressed her hand to the surface below her cheek and brushed the matting flat. It sprang up again. She opened her eyes, determined to be rid of the aggravating itch, and smiled as she saw Brendon’s muscled chest, rising and falling gently.

  She treaded her fingers through his masculine hair and felt him tense beneath her hand. She lifted her head and rested her chin on a pectoral as he blinked down at her.

  “So was it worth saving yourself for?” She smiled as she asked.

  He tilted his head and pretended to consider his answer before grinning as he spoke.

  “Well, I am not sure.” He captured her wrist and drew it to his mouth before she could slap him. He lay a slow kiss against her flesh and swirled the tip of his tongue over her pulse. “I will need a repeat performance before I can make a final judgement.” He kissed the inside of her elbow. “And then possibly another to make sure.” His lips reached her shoulder. “And then a lifetime of the same, just so that we keep up our standards.” He tugged her earlobe between his teeth. “We have started at a high point. It wouldn’t do to have them slip, you know.” He finished as he pulled her across his body.

  She laughed as her lips brushed his, her breasts pressed into his chest.

  “No, that certainly wouldn’t do. And talking of slipping, I thought you were going to massage my back with those oils.”

  He caught her about the waist and drew her to one side, letting her lay on her stomach. She crossed her arms beneath her head and sighed as he knelt over her, kissing the tiny mole on her shoulder.

  “I believe it was your lower back we were working on.” He leaned across and picked up a bottle of oil, dripping a tiny amount along the dip in her spine. His hands swept gently over her skin. “You should have told me that you had some feeling back.” He leaned in and pressed the pad of his thumbs into her tight muscles.

  She let out a whimper of pleasure as his touch enflamed her again.

  “I know and I am sorry I deceived you, but at first I was afraid the paralysis might return, and then I was afraid that you had only married me through sympathy for my condition. I thought you might resent being tied to me.”

  He bent and trailed his lips across her shoulders.

  “Silly girl. I can’t remember when I actually fell in love with you. I think it might have been for the whole of my life. Couldn’t you tell that my feelings were more than genuine?” He pushed back and down, his hands finding her hips and lifting them. She gasped as his thighs shifted between hers, his need more than evident as he pressed forwards. “Can you tell now?” He entered her in one, long slow thrust.

  “Yes!” She moaned with pleasure as he took her. And when he took her again. And again. And again.

  Epilogue

  Duel Confessions

  “I don’t know why you are still complaining. I thought we were having them over this evening to celebrate, not to give me another ear bashing. And it worked, didn’t it? You have exactly what you wanted, so please stop going on about it. I have suffered quite enough.” Lord Gregory Spencer had finally lost patience with his wife.

  “You have suffered! What about me? The shock and worry nearly sent me into a decline, but you, you foolish man, you could have died! Twice!” Lady Marianne Spencer threw up her hands in exasperation. “And you didn’t confess what you had done to Brendon. Lucas says he is still making enquiries, asking questions that no one has answers to. You have to tell him, Gregory.” She pleaded with her husband.

  “Tell me what.” Brendon asked from the doorway.

  Lady Spencer rushed to greet her son and daughter in law.

  “At last! How lovely to see you both, and how well you look. The country air must suit you. Come, we are just taking a glass of champagne to toast your marriage. We didn’t get the chance when we called at Fallows before.” She took Sophia’s hand.

  Brendon took a glass from his father.

  “So what do you need to tell me? Confession is good for the soul, I can attest to that, so out with it.” He smiled at his beautiful wife as he spoke.

  His father harrumphed, rose to the balls of his feet twice, and twitched his moustache before eventually answering.

  “It is nothing. Your mother is making a fuss, as usual. Forget it and let’s have a toast. To you and Sophia. May you have a long and happy life together.” He raised his glass.

  Lady Spencer sipped her wine and then smiled at her son.

  “Your father exag
gerates when he says I am making a fuss. I don’t think I am making enough of one. Idiot could have killed himself, or even you! I am not letting him get away with it.”

  Brendon tilted his head towards his father.

  “Doesn’t look as though you are going to avoid telling me, whatever it is. But if it is not important, I do have some further news for you about Fallows. That Johnson fellow you hired? Do you have his whereabouts or know anything more about him? One of our workers was lucky to get away with his life. If I had cut down the rhododendron bush, I might be facing charges that I cannot answer.”

  Lady Spencer pointed a finger towards her husband.

  “See the trouble you have caused!”

  Lord Spencer raised a greying eyebrow.

  “Me? Don’t you mean you? You were the one who insisted on me taking action. I thought it best to let things run their course, but you couldn’t wait. I did as you asked and now you blame me for making your wishes come true. Lord! What we men suffer for the sake of a wife’s happiness! Taking a shot to my shoulder bloody hurt, I’ll have you know. Regretted it after the deed was done, of course. Who wouldn’t, but honestly, now you are making a mountain from a molehill.”

  Brendon stared curiously at his father.

  “The duel was something to do with mother?” He glanced between his parents.

  Lady Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep pink.

  “Not directly,” she said quietly.

  “So indirectly then?” Brendon questioned and then took a deep breath when neither of his parents answered. “Someone tell me what is going on, for heaven’s sake!”

  Lord Spencer rolled his eyes.

  “She wants grandchildren. Heirs. Wouldn’t stop going on about it. I thought there was plenty of time and that Felicity’s efforts would be enough, but it all boils down to the family name and responsibility, so your sister’s children were never going to be good enough. My ears hurt with the endless nagging. In the end I decided that she had a bit of a point. You,” he waggled his finger at his son, “were messing about doing almost nothing. Wasting your life at that blasted gun club and with that daft woman. I know that Angelique Lancer is lovely, but she is so frivolous! Drove me mad to know you were seeing her. Made your mother even madder. She had set her heart on Sophia as a daughter in law.”

  “Only because I know that you are meant for one another. I couldn’t bear to see you throw your life away on that ridiculous woman.” Lady Spencer interrupted in her own self-defence.

  Lord Spencer gave his wife a smile.

  “I don’t think it would have come to that, my dear. He’s hopefully not that stupid, but anyway...” He turned back to his son. “I decided that you needed some focus, but I wanted my actions to be kept from you or you would have immediately objected, so I disguised myself as Mr. Johnson and visited Fallows to make an inventory of what needed doing.”

  Brendon gasped.

  “You disguised yourself? Good Lord!”

  Lord Spencer shrugged.

  “It wasn’t that hard. I hadn’t been there for years and have aged considerably. A few cushions down the front of my shirt and some powder in my hair and no one was any the wiser. I loosened the balustrade so that when you eventually arrived, you would think I was in danger. I thought it might make you begin to take my words more seriously. But my plan went awry because you didn’t take all the hints about going there. In fact, you totally ignored me. I had to make a back-up plan. One that would grab your attention immediately. Knowing how you act when your dander is up made the decision easy. I wrote a confusing letter with a load of rubbish in it, and went out the morning after the Caruthers soirée. I simply strolled into the clearing and shot myself in the shoulder, knowing that if you thought I was about to die you would do anything for me.”

  Brendon’s eyes widened.

  “You shot yourself? YOU SHOT YOURSELF!” Brendon shouted as Sophia grabbed his Champagne glass before he snapped the stem.

  “Only so that you would take some DAMNED RESPONSIBILITY!” Lord Spencer shouted back. “And so that you would take your head out of your arse and marry Sophia. She had danced with that Lucas Caruthers one waltz too many, and as she was going to Sommersford with Algernon anyway, I thought it would give you the chance to reacquaint yourselves. Fallows is no distance. I knew that you would be bound to meet up after the babies were born, if not before, and if Sophia was there...” He shrugged. “Two birds with one stone, so to speak. Your mother would have her dearest wish granted, and I would get you to begin taking your future seriously, as well as have Fallows returned to its former glory.”

  “That’s three birds.” Brendon pointed out. “But you shot yourself! Really father! It’s a bit extreme.” He added quietly as he shook his head in amazement.

  Lord Spencer winced as he rolled his shoulder.

  “Trouble was that I didn’t expect the wound to be quite so painful or the blood loss so great. I ended up flat on my back for over a week. And by the time I was recovered enough to get out of bed, I had completely forgotten about the unsafe balustrade. Nearly died of fright when I heard about Mr. Dodds accident.”

  Brendon let out a breath.

  “Yes, so did I. I’d put Sophia up in mother’s bedroom. It could have been she who fell from the balcony.” He swallowed and shook away the thought. “I can’t believe you thought of such a foolhardy scheme.”

  Lord Spencer sighed deeply.

  “You haven’t heard your mother when she wants something. It’s hard to ignore.”

  Lady Spencer looked at her son.

  “I only ever wanted what was best for you, nothing more. So are you angry with us? And if you are, can you forgive us?” She pleaded.

  Sophia came up to Brendon’s side. She clasped his hand in hers as she gazed up at him.

  “I think we will have to, don’t you, my love.”

  Brendon closed his eyes for a moment as his wife’s perfume enraptured him. He tugged her in close and bent to brush his lips across hers.

  “Yes, of course. How can I do anything less when they have given me everything I have ever wanted.”

  ***

  Lucas Caruthers took an extra rasher of bacon from the dish and added two boiled eggs. He tore the crusts from a still warm loaf and buttered it while he glanced over the news-sheet beside his plate.

  There had been a murder somewhere in the city, but he couldn’t stomach reading the details this early in the morning. He turned over the pages as he ate, glancing at some articles, but not really taking any interest. Lady H’s cat had been rescued from the river. Lord B had been thrown from his horse. Sir John M had been caught cheating at cards.... It hardly made riveting reading.

  He took a bite of his bread, testing his teeth before taking another. They still ached, even though they appeared likely to remain in his gums.

  His eyes wandered over another page of drivel.

  He was almost sad that Sophia was happy with Brendon. She was not only beautiful to look at while sitting at his table, but she could hold a lively conversation and he missed their early morning repartee. He put his bread down as he realized that he missed her company dreadfully.

  He picked up his cup as he turned to the next page of his newspaper, took a large gulp and immediately choked, spraying the whole table with tea as his eyes boggled at the headline.

  Lord and Lady Trenchard are delighted to announce

  The forthcoming marriage of their only son,

  Lord Pierce Trenchard

  to

  Miss Angelique Lancer.

  St. Georges, James Street.

  September 1st.

  “Bloody hell!” Lucas shouted at the same moment as someone began pounding on his front door. He glanced up as he heard his butler open the portal and immediately begin to yell.

  “But his Lordship is taking his breakfast! You cannot go in unannounced!” There followed some hasty footsteps before his dining room door flew open and a dishevelled Pierce Trenchard charged in, one eye sw
ollen to near shut, his usually perfect cravat stained and ragged, and his tawny hair in wild disarray. He threw himself towards Lucas, hands outstretched in some kind of plea.

  “You have to save me!” The man shouted.

  Lucas stood up slowly and held out the paper.

  “Ah! I assume this is why you have come to call.” The sight of the announcement seemed to have a profound effect on the pleading man.

  Pierce snatched it up and shook it wildly.

  “I didn’t propose to her and I certainly don’t want to marry her! I haven’t seen her for days! Her brother is demanding satisfaction, but for what I have no idea. It isn’t as if I have compromised her or anything. Bloody woman only likes to sit and read!”

  Lucas sat down again. He picked up the teapot and poured two fresh cups.

  “Sit down and take a brew before you tell me exactly what happened. Then perhaps we can discuss a way out of this calamity.”

  Pierce fell into a chair, his head held in his hands.

  “Calamity! You call getting legshackled a CALAMITY! It’s the parson’s noose for me unless I can think of some way out of it, but Lord only knows how I am going to do that. Look at what he has done already, and this is only because I didn’t join him for supper last night.” He pointed at his eye. “I’m likely to lose my head if I cry off! Wish I had never set eyes on the damned woman. This is Brendon’s fault! He just upped and left her for Sophia. Angelique’s brother wants her off his hands and had lined Brendon up as the fall guy, but as he is now spoken for, responsibility for the lovely but frivolous woman has been shoved upon the next sap in line. Namely me.”

  Lucas picked up his bread again.

  “I am sure if you explain to her brother that there has been some mistake...”

  Pierce gulped.

  “I don’t think he listens to explanations.” He paused and stared at the soft bread in Lucas’ hand. He gulped again. “You do know who her brother is, don’t you?”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “Not a clue. Anyone important? Anyone I know?”

 

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