Home.
‘You were going to Bath to marry Reverson,’ he said. ‘To…er…“make him the best, most loving wife there ever was”. Those were your exact words.’
‘That was your intention, was it not, when you rejected me so thoroughly, to drive me into William’s arms?’
‘At that time I did not know I was a free man. I thought I was still an outcast, forced to wander abroad, never settling in one place. I could not inflict that life upon you.’
‘And you gave no thought to what I might want. But that is irrelevant now. When you did learn that you were pardoned, why did you keep silent?’
‘I had given you enough cause to hate me. Even with the pardon, what could I offer you, compared to the life you would have with Reverson?’
‘How idiotically noble of you.’ Her scornful voice cut through the darkness.
‘And what would you have had me do?’ he demanded, rattled.
‘Allowed me to make the decision for myself.’
He exhaled.
‘You are right,’ he said at last. ‘I realised it soon after you had gone, and I intended to do so this evening, only I made a mull of it.’
‘Very true,’ she said bitterly.
* * *
Elyse leaned back against the squabs and waited. The anger and excitement that had carried her out of Lord Whittlewood’s house and into Drew’s carriage had abated. She was beset by doubts when he did not reply. Perhaps he had thought better of his rash declaration. Perhaps he had no wish to marry someone who scolded him so roundly. The enveloping darkness did not help. She could not see Drew’s face. She had no idea what he was thinking.
‘I am not going to marry William,’ she told him, when she could no longer bear the silence. ‘I have broken it off irrevocably and there can be no question that I jilted him. The viscount’s debt to my father is cancelled.’
The unnerving quiet continued.
‘Pray do not think that I expect you to marry me,’ she said, trying to keep the note of uncertainty out of her voice. ‘Sir Edward offered me sanctuary at Hartcombe and I will accept that until I can return to Scarborough. Th-that is why I wanted to share your carriage, sir, not for any other reason.’ Her voice faltered. ‘And I d-did not have time to collect my wrap…’
‘Damn this darkness.’ Drew muttered as he moved across to sit beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Is that better, or would you like my cloak? It is here somewhere.’
‘No, I am warm enough now.’ Reassured by the feel of his arm about her, she leaned against him and slipped one arm around his waist. ‘I discovered that it was William and his friends who held up our coach.’
‘I guessed it was some such thing.’
‘They did not mean to shoot you. They intended merely to prevent my reaching Bath before Michaelmas.’
‘The devil they did. Would you like me to call them to book?’
‘No, no.’ She held him close. ‘I want merely to forget it all. Although you might wish to be revenged upon Mr Pendle for putting a bullet in you.’
‘No, no, ’tis almost healed now. Besides,’ he added, a laugh in his voice, ‘Why should I wish to do that, when he has done me such a service?’
‘That is true, I suppose. If you had not been wounded we would never have gone to Hartcombe, and you would not have made it up with your father and learned that you had been pardoned.’
His arm around her shoulders tightened.
‘And I should not have had time to discover just how much I love you.’
‘Oh.’ Hot tears prickled behind her eyes. ‘Oh, if only that were true.’
‘It is.’ He put his fingers beneath her chin and she responded to their gentle pressure to look up. His face was a pale blur in the darkness yet she could feel the heat of his gaze. ‘I have not led a blameless life, my love. I have made mistakes but I have paid for them.’
‘I do not care about your past,’ was her swift reply.
‘But you must care about the future,’ he told her. ‘You must understand what it is that I can offer you. It will take years to make Hartcombe truly profitable again. And of course in time I will inherit the baronetcy, although I hope that event is many years distant.’
‘So, too, do I. But is that all you can offer me?’
His arm tightened around her.
‘That and my heart, now and always.’
She gave a little sob and threw her arms around his neck.
‘Oh, Drew, that is all I ever wanted from you. I love you so much!’
* * *
When Elyse gave herself up to Drew’s kiss, she was not prepared for the assault upon her senses. They had been battered and bruised by the events of the evening and when their lips met there was no soft easing of the rigid control she had placed upon herself. There was no melting tenderness, only raging fire. She was consumed by desire, a shockingly powerful need to have him love her. She returned his kisses forcefully, eagerly tangling her tongue with his, revelling in the hot, erotic sensations it was creating throughout her body. When Drew would have pulled back she clung to him, urging him to go on.
‘Oh, my love,’ his words were a thread, whispered against her skin as he dipped his head to run a line of kisses over her neck. ‘Bid me stop now, or there is only one way this will end.’
‘Never.’ Her head was thrown back, her skin burning where his mouth had touched it. ‘I want this as much as you.’
She had no doubts. She needed him to finish what they had begun in the pavilion. The carriage rattled on, its gentle swaying joined with the pale moonlight to create a darkly magical world for their lovemaking. Drew’s hand was on her waist, sliding up over the stiffened bodice towards the rise of her breasts. Her skin tightened in anticipation, nipples hardened, aching for his touch. She clutched him, one hand pushing past the lace at his neck, tearing open his shirt, desperate to feel the skin beneath.
Drew pulled away, but only to remove his jacket and while he did so she dragged the fichu from her neck and it fluttered pale and ghostly to the carriage floor. When he reached for her again she went into his arms, the cool softness of his lawn sleeves wrapping around her while she was devoured by his kiss. She felt light-headed, almost swooning with the pleasure he was inflicting on her. She did not resist when he eased her down on the seat, his hands pushing aside her heavy skirts. She returned his kisses, driving her hands through his hair, revelling in its silkiness between her fingers. A little shudder of delight ran through her when she felt his hand smoothing over the skin of her thigh. Her very core was melting, opening, and she shifted a little, lifting her hips to offer herself up to the delights of those questing fingers. Suddenly his hand was cupping the hot, aching mound between her thighs. She moaned, her body shifting restlessly as he teased and explored. Little tremors were pulsing through her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She slid her hands to his waist, to the fall of his breeches, fumbling with the buttons. She could feel his iron-hard erection through the thin material and it took her breath away. She had no knowledge of this, yet heat flared through her, combined with an overwhelming need for satisfaction.
‘I want you, Drew,’ she whispered. ‘I want you now.’
He brushed aside her fingers and she sank back on to the padded seat, reaching for him, pulling his head down until she could kiss him, which she did with a kind of desperation. Her petticoats were bunched between them but she barely noticed, nor the cool air on her naked limbs. Her body was arching and trembling with need. His hands slid around her buttocks, lifting her towards him and she gave a soft gasp as she felt him at the hinge of her thighs. He was teasingly close to entering her and she tilted her hips a little more, inviting him into her very core. She pushed herself towards him, catching her breath as he slid inside her. It was a small pain, soon forgotten. Her hips came up to meet him as he drove deeper, harder, again and again. When she would have cried out he covered her mouth for another searing kiss that made her whole body shudder with desire.
Her senses took flight, her body trembled out of control. She was ready to tip over into ecstasy. She clutched at him, dug her fingers into his back as tremors of pure pleasure began to ripple through her, building in intensity. They were moving as one. Elyse tore her mouth free and gasped out his name even as he plunged even deeper into her core, taking her over the edge and into the abyss. It was as if she had stepped off a high cliff and was held, suspended for one brief, exhilarating moment. She felt his release, heard his shout of triumph before her mind shattered and she lost all comprehension of time and space.
* * *
Drew’s body was heavy above her, gently rocking with the continued swaying of the carriage as it rattled on. At last she felt at peace. Complete. She did not move, savouring the moment, the joy of it. It was as much as she could do not to sigh out loud when Drew eased away from her, a deep black shape against the faint moonlight shining through the windows.
‘The die is cast, my dear. We must be married now, and with all speed.’
The night air chilled her bare skin and she sat up, carefully pulling her skirts back into place.
‘Is that what you truly want, sir?’
She could not quite accept it, even now. That he loved her in his own fashion she did not doubt, but he loved honour more. He had done his best to prevent her falling in love with him, determined not to raise hopes he could not fulfil. She would take full responsibility for what had just occurred. After all, she had thrown herself into his arms, begged him to love her and he had done so. She would demand nothing more of him. She had money. She could return to her aunt in the north and live out a single life, but she would carry the memory of this moment with her to the grave.
‘You are no longer a maid,’ said Drew. ‘I have taken that which I told you was a husband’s right. Therefore I must now become that husband.’
‘I shall not demand that you make an honest woman of me.’
Elyse bent to scoop up her fichu and as she did so the ring around her neck fell forward. Drew reached out and caught it. In one swift, decisive move he tore the ring from the thin length of ribbon.
‘But I shall demand it, if you will have me.’ He slid to his knees on the carriage floor. ‘Will you marry me, dearest Elyse? Will you take this flawed, foolish man and trust him to make you happy?’ He took her left hand and held the ring over the tip of her third finger. ‘My father knew your worth. This is my mother’s ring, the one he gave her when she agreed to marry him. Will you wear it now as a token of our betrothal until I can buy you one of your own?’
Hot tears burned her eyes and she said unsteadily, ‘Oh, Drew, I do not need any other token, if you really, truly wish to marry me.’
‘Can you doubt it?’
He pushed the ring on to her finger and leaned forwards to kiss her. When at last he let her go he sat down on the bench beside her, pulling her against him and settling her comfortably in his arms. He sighed.
‘I warned your father how it would be if he made me your guardian.’
‘He entrusted me to your care,’ she murmured. ‘Upon your honour, which was certainly very tiresome, since it prevented you from declaring yourself.’
‘A rebel’s honour,’ he retorted bitterly.
Elyse pushed herself away and put one hand up to his cheek, saying softly,
‘It is what makes you the man you are, Drew Castlemain. It is the honour of my one and only true love.’
* * * * *
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Historical.
You dream of wicked rakes, gorgeous Highlanders, muscled Viking warriors and rugged Wild West cowboys from another era. Harlequin Historical has them all! Emotionally intense stories set across many time periods.
Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Historical every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
ISBN-13: 9781460338940
Never Trust a Rebel
Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Mallory
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Never Trust a Rebel Page 22