My Fair Lover

by Nicole Jordan

  Kate cast a glance at the road behind him as he urged the horse into a walk. “I confess I am glad to have their escort back to Royan. I was also impressed that they heeded your call and traveled all the way to France without hesitation.”

  “Fighting tyrants and extricating innocent citizens from perilous situations is their forte.”

  “You said they were an elite branch of the Foreign Office, but they seem very accustomed to charging into danger.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he said enigmatically.

  “Oh? More secrets?” she responded, disapproval in her tone.

  “I swore a sacred oath to protect their confidences. But I can tell you considerably more once we are wed. Meanwhile, let us hasten back to Royan. I intend to sail with the ebb tide.”

  Although her curiosity had been piqued, she let Deverill change the subject. “Will we manage it?”

  “I will make certain of it. I want to return to England so we can begin our life together. We need to make up for lost time.”

  Kate flashed him an arch smile. “How well I know it. Six years is an excruciatingly long time.”

  Deverill’s laughter sounded low and rueful. “The blame is wholly mine. I should have come to my senses much sooner. But now that I have…Kate, I promise to love and cherish you always.”

  The words were softly spoken, but she felt their power. Looking into his eyes, she could fully believe that he meant his vow. This was what she had yearned for—for Deverill to love her truly, deeply, forever.

  “I shall hold you to your promise,” she replied just as softly.

  Turning to face forward again, Kate leaned back against his solid chest. As he spurred the horse into a canter, his arms wrapped around her tightly in support and affection, causing hope and joy to fill her.

  Perhaps her most treasured dream would come true at last.

  —

  When they returned to the inn in Royan, her aunt and uncle were delighted to learn they had made their provisional engagement permanent. With the focus on departing quickly, however, there was no time to celebrate.

  Rachel was not eager to brave the high seas again, even with Deverill’s assurance that the voyage would be far smoother without a violent storm lashing at the ship. When the Galene finally set sail some three hours later, they all stood at the starboard quarter railing, watching the coast fade from sight. Even with Deverill’s arms around her, Kate felt the solemnity of the occasion. She was exceedingly glad to see the last of France for the moment; in truth, they couldn’t leave quickly enough for her. And her uncle and aunt felt similarly.

  Cornelius’s disappointment was palpable when he conveyed the priest’s final report: They had never discovered what became of the crested gold locket Lady Beaufort was wearing when she washed ashore. Lord Beaufort’s signet ring had never been found, either, nor the last of the missing jewels that had gone down with the Zephyr. And yet Kate knew a sense of peace, having properly laid her lost loved ones to rest after so many years.

  Another hour had passed when the Galene reached the more turbulent waters of the Atlantic, where the gusting breezes blew cooler, despite the summer evening sunlight.

  When Rachel claimed to be feeling queasy, Kate gave her a wry glance. “There is no need for you to pretend illness any longer, Aunt.”

  Rachel had the grace to blush. “During our last voyage, I might have exaggerated my seasickness a little, but only a little. I truly was ailing.”

  “But once we arrived in Royan, you made certain Deverill and I had every opportunity to be alone.”

  “That was the chief purpose for our chaperonage, I believe. To provide Lord Valmere the opportunity for a courtship.”

  “Indeed?” Kate cast an amused glance at Cornelius. “And you, Uncle? You sanctioned her deception?”

  His flush showed his discomfiture. “I fear I am not adept at subterfuge.”

  “I convinced Cornelius to play along,” Rachel declared loyally.

  Which explained why he had frequently disappeared whenever Kate had come near.

  “I take full responsibility,” Deverill interjected.

  Rachel gave him a faint smile. “We will leave you to explain, then.”

  Kate watched her aunt and uncle cross the deck to the companionway hatch, then focused her attention on Deverill. His windblown, ruffled locks and stubble shadowing his jaw made him appear the ruffian, but he had never looked more dear to her.

  “I am waiting for your explanation,” she prodded.

  “There is not much to explain. I intended to use this voyage to woo you.”

  “But you enlisted my family’s aid and united them against me.”

  “Not against you. For your benefit. I needed every advantage I could muster. As it was, I nearly had to die for you to admit your feelings. I plan for us to share a cabin tonight, by the way.”

  When Deverill held eye contact with her, heat sizzled between them, but Kate recognized his tactic.

  “You are attempting to change the subject,” she accused.

  He ignored her complaint. “If you are worried about a scandal, there is an obvious solution. We can be married tonight. Captain Halsey can perform the ceremony.”

  “We had best wait until we return to England to hold the wedding. My family will want to witness my downfall.” Kate flashed a wry smile. “I have badgered them for so many years about their romantic affairs, I owe them the satisfaction of seeing my nuptials. And Aunt Isabella would never forgive me if she weren’t present. She takes matchmaking almost as seriously as I do.”

  “I will forever be grateful. Bella was my biggest champion these past few months. I asked for her aid before ever leaving America.”

  “I suspected that was why she remained in Cornwall. So I would fill her role as matchmaker and conduct your search for a bride.”

  “She had a hand in convincing the other members of your family also. They all made various excuses to avoid the voyage to France.”

  Kate shook her head in mock indignation. “My own family in league against me.”

  “Perhaps because they could see what even I could not: I long ago joined the ranks of the countless men who are smitten with you.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Now that I cannot credit.”

  “Ask your brother. I told him as much before we left England, when I sought his permission to marry you. He gave his blessing, if you care to know.”

  She arched an eyebrow at Deverill. “More secrets you have been keeping from me?”

  His mouth twisted with regret. “Guilty as charged—but in future, I promise to eschew all secrecy.”

  “I trust you will.”

  “What of the secret you have been harboring? Cornelius mentioned your matchmaking theory based on legendary lovers. You sought to retell the Greek myth of Pygmalion and transform me from American scoundrel to English lord.”

  Kate felt her face warm a little at his ragging. “My theory has been highly effective at predicting ideal matches for my family and friends, I’ll have you know.”

  Deverill planted a kiss on her temple. “Whatever basis you chose for our union would not have mattered. I’ve wanted you for years, and I was determined to claim you. In fact, you were the prime reason I came to England.”

  “You came to England to claim the title,” Kate retorted.

  “That was only my rationalization. You are the bride I wanted all along. I would never have wed anyone else.”

  “What of Daphne Farnwell? You showed great interest in her at that last ball.”

  “I only pretended an interest to make you jealous.”

  Kate felt a tightness ease inside her. “You succeeded quite well. My jealousy is what led me to propose our engagement.”

  “Thank God. You made it very difficult for me to win you, particularly forcing me to confront my own demons. But you could never have gotten rid of me, princess. I was not about to give you up.”

  He punctuated his declaration by be
nding his head and kissing her, which sent her pulse soaring. Breaking away, she cast a glance around the ship. None of the crew was paying them any attention.

  “Let us go below and cement our pledge,” Deverill said in a husky tone. “I am not waiting any longer to claim you as mine. We have wasted too much time as it is.”

  When he took her hand, Kate went willingly, her heart pounding in anticipation.

  Upon reaching his cabin, he shut the door behind them and took her in his arms again. But there he paused. His warm palm cupped her nape and he stood staring down at her.

  There were countless emotions in his eyes: affection, need, want, hunger. His dark eyes burned into her, rousing heat and fire and desperate longing inside her. When he began to undress her, Kate aided him urgently. She craved to feel the heat of his hands on her bare skin.

  In short order she was naked with her hair down, so they turned to undressing him. Every perfect inch of him was devastating, she thought as he shed the last of his clothing and they came together again. Flaring excitement ignited inside her at the familiar, erotic feel of him.

  Just as she expected, his hands were strong and possessive and hot against her skin, his touch sending desire vibrating through her body—the driving desire to be part of him.

  Unwilling to wait any longer, she led him to the bunk. Then, staring into dark eyes that were heavy with his own desire, Kate lay back and drew him down to her.

  —

  Brandon felt the same urgency as Kate but forced himself to go slowly. Instead of kissing her fiercely as he knew she wished, he savored the moment, savored her…the silk of her skin, the taste of her, her luscious breasts…He cherished her with his hands and mouth, and by the time he began caressing the curls concealing her sex, she was whimpering in need.

  When he made to part her thighs, though, Kate opened her eyes. “The sponges…” she reminded him.

  “We no longer have need for sponges. If a child comes from this night, then we will welcome it.”

  She smiled, really smiled, and his breath stopped.

  “Be with me,” she whispered.

  “Gladly.”

  He complied readily with her plea, sliding into her with ease. He was rock hard and aching for her, his cock so swollen he thought he might burst, and she was all luscious wet heat.

  A wave of intense pleasure shimmered through him as he settled more deeply in the cradle of her thighs. His fingers tangled in her glorious mass of hair, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in. Her scent settled inside him, filling the last empty spaces….

  His stillness made Kate shift restlessly beneath him. When finally he began to move his hips, hers rose eagerly to meet him, but Brandon remained set on drawing out the moment.

  Apparently his pace was not intense or swift enough for her, for suddenly she pressed her hands against his chest, staying him. Taking command then, she urged him to roll over so that she lay on top, still joined to him.

  “You are taking much too long….” she complained against his ear.

  “And you think you can do better?” Brandon taunted.

  With a sultry smile curving her lips, she raised her head. “I know so.”

  Gazing up into bright eyes that challenged him, that desired him, he felt charmed and utterly seduced. The fire that infused his veins surged in his loins, and his rigid erection thickened still more.

  Perhaps Kate felt his response, for she gave a breathy little moan. Then she retaliated by tantalizing him with a fleeting kiss before offering him the taut peak of her breast. He accommodated her, suckling her nipple, making her whimper. At the erotic sound, he felt a fiery ache shoot throughout his groin.

  The same fire was tormenting her, he knew. Stirring restlessly, Kate pushed herself up to straddle his hips.

  Once again Brandon felt his breath catch. The sight of her like this, so wanton and eager, ravished his senses: Her bare breasts proud and perfectly shaped, her narrow waist tapering to sweetly curving hips. The rose-gold sunlight streaming into the cabin brought out the sunset in her unbound hair, which flowed like ribbons around her body and wound around the globes of her breasts.

  She was a natural temptress, and the magic of her green gaze was working its spell on him. She was a man’s private fantasy, beautiful and passionate, his own personal siren, calling him to the rocks.

  Passion throbbed between them as, holding his gaze, she lifted her weight slightly, only to lower herself slowly onto his swollen shaft. Brandon sucked in a ragged breath as her sleek, hot passage enveloped his cock. Impaled on his erection, she fit around him to perfection.

  Craving to touch her, he reached up and filled his hands with her breasts. Kate gave a throaty moan and closed her eyes. Then covering his hands with her own, she let her head fall back and rode him.

  Soon her breath became more rapid, as did his, while a look of ecstasy claimed her expression. As if she could no longer control her longing, she began to move, setting an urgent rhythm. Brandon grasped her hips, urging her on, intensifying his own pleasure as well as hers. She was more passionate than ever before, panting for him, clutching fiercely at his shoulders, throwing her head back in wild abandon.

  Moments later she cried out, a high, keening pleasure sound. Desire surged through him, as intense as any he’d ever felt.

  Desperate to satisfy this feverish need she’d set burning deep inside him, Brandon finally sought his own explosive release.

  Afterward, she collapsed upon him, her skin smooth and warm and damp with sweat against his own. His arms closing around her, he remained unmoving, sheathed in her slick heat, exactly where he wanted to be.

  Eventually their harsh breathing slowed while his thoughts drifted to the amazing change Kate had wrought in him. It was incredibly tender, this sweet ache he felt for her. It was unquestionably love. She had taught him that.

  He needed her, he wanted her, he loved her.

  It was remarkable how far she had reached inside his heart. And yet some part of him had always recognized her as his mate. He’d wanted someone who mattered. Someone special and irreplaceable. A woman strong enough to challenge him, who made him a better man.

  He wanted Kate, now and forever.

  Shifting his position, he rolled to face her, so that they lay on their sides, gazing at each other.

  Love ran through him as he contemplated the pleasure of being ensnared for life, and he knew Kate felt similarly. She remained there watching him, her eyes indescribably tender and pleasure-hazed.

  “I do love you dearly, you know,” he murmured.

  “I am beginning to believe you” was her satisfying reply.

  For the second time today, he was struck by the dreamy, dizzy joy in her smile. That smile had been his undoing from the very first, Brandon realized.

  There were countless other reasons he’d fallen for her, though. She fired his blood; she made him burn from the inside out. Yet it was her spirit, her zest, her fearlessness, her persistence, that had ultimately captured him.

  She’d refused to let him languish in his own cold, emotionless world. She’d made him confront his own demons, spurring the rebirth of feeling inside him, dredging it up from where he had long ago buried it.

  He felt as though he was coming back to life. For Kate, he had let down his guard. For her, he’d opened his heart and let the wave of unwanted emotions flood him.

  Slowly Brandon raised his fingers to her lips to trace her soft smile.

  Loving her felt right, like filling a hollow space inside him that had been empty for too long. And he would vanquish any lingering doubts she might have by proving his love to her for the rest of their days.

  Kent, England, July 1817

  Remarkably, his feelings for Kate grew stronger by the day, so that when they married five weeks later, Brandon wondered how he had ever managed to live so long without her.

  Yesterday, with all the Wildes present, poignant memorial services had been held at both the Beaufort and Traherne estate
s in Kent in remembrance of their late family members. But Kate’s grand wedding had been deliberately set for the morning afterward, the timing designed to counterbalance sadness with happiness.

  Which was why just now as they spoke their vows in the chapel at Beauvoir, it concerned Brandon when he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

  “Good God, are you crying, princess?” he murmured under the droning tone of the vicar.

  Kate wiped at her eyes and whispered back, “You know I tend to cry at weddings. But they are tears of happiness.”

  “Ah yes, you are a hopeless romantic.”

  “On the contrary. I am not hopeless any longer, thanks to you.”

  She gazed up at him lovingly, making his heart swell. When it came time to kiss the bride, Brandon couldn’t help but marvel at the depth of his own happiness.

  After the ceremony Kate stood by his side, accepting the good wishes of the wedding guests, her smile warm and joyful. He wanted to give her reason to smile like that always.

  She made a stunning bride, he thought watching her. Kate was only one of the fiery, sensual Wilde clan, but the glow of life that surrounded her evinced a special quality all her own. She was vibrant, almost incandescent. Clearly a woman in love.

  Lady Isabella Wilde was the first to crow about their obvious love match. Bella, the vivacious, half-Spanish, half-English widow whose third husband was Cornelius Wilde’s late brother, Henry, sounded smug in her exultation. “I knew all along you were right for each other. You were destined to marry.”

  “Perhaps so,” Brandon agreed before remarking to his new wife, “I’m fated to love you for the rest of my life, and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

  Amusement danced in Kate’s green eyes before she turned to greet her former companion, Nell, with an affectionate embrace.

  Amusement also laced his cousin’s voice moments later when Trey slapped him heartily on the back. “We are elated to have you join our ranks of happily married men, old fellow.”

  “I am exceedingly fortunate.”

  In more ways than one, Brandon added to himself. Several of his former colleagues in the Guardians had attended his wedding, and he was gratified to be welcomed back into their ranks, knowing this was his second chance for the life he wanted.