Captured Love (Marlow Intrigues)

Home > Other > Captured Love (Marlow Intrigues) > Page 5
Captured Love (Marlow Intrigues) Page 5

by Jane Lark


  Her fingers clawed into his back, cutting through his skin and her panting rang on the still air in the bedchamber.

  “No, stop,” she cried toward the end as her head pressed back into the mattress and her eyes closed. She bit her lip, but then her mouth fell open and a rush of warmth flooded about his intrusion, while he felt a spasm claw at him to stay in her heat.

  Conceding, he reached his end and pressed deep, relinquishing himself inside her.

  Her fingers clung to his back, holding him close.

  Meredith felt as though they had just run across a bridge into each other’s arms, as though they were not distant anymore. He had smiled at her, and looked at her, and she was now truly his wife. It had been painful at first, but after that it had been beautiful.

  “Lord Morton,” she whispered.

  His body immediately stiffened and he lifted off of her.

  She didn’t like losing him. She wanted to hold on to him, and never let him go.

  “Here.” He lifted a corner of the crumpled covers, obviously implying she should slip beneath.

  When she had, he bent, picked up her nightgown and then handed it to her.

  Her fingers shook again when she took it.

  “Thank you,” he said, before bending to retrieve his dressing gown. Then he turned away, putting it on as he did so, and afterward, he walked about the room and blew the candles out, all except for the last, which he picked up, and took with him as he left the room. She did not know what to think.

  Had she done something to displease him?

  ~

  Rupert sat at the breakfast table, scanning the papers. Rowena was with him; she was reading a letter which had just been delivered. There were another three dozen white roses in the hall.

  He turned the page of the paper. His announcement was there, small and almost hidden. The Earl of Morton, wed Miss Meredith Divine... He had no wish to herald his marriage. He turned the page.

  He’d wanted a comfortable marriage — that, he knew, he would have to fight to obtain. He’d also wanted a comfortable marriage bed — that, he now knew, he would never have. He would have far more in his bed.

  Clearly there had been no woman in Meredith’s life to tell her she ought to lie still, and not move, while a man took his pleasure. Well, Amen, and thank God, to that. He had married a delicious, sultry hoyden. He smiled, still looking at the paper, although no longer reading it, as memories slipped through his head.

  He had not been able to sleep after his exertions last night. He’d lain awake longing to go back for a second course, and wishing he had not left her bed.

  He would go back tonight.

  Meredith came into the room, and he instantly stood, looking at her and nodding slightly. “Good morning, Meredith.”

  Her eyes focused on his and she gave him that smile, the one which sought to please. The one which had annoyed him for so many months. A warm sensation gripped in his chest.

  Last night he’d had to direct her to sit at the far end of the table when she would have taken a seat near him. This morning he beckoned her forward. It would do no harm in the mornings. Her lips parted, her smile broadening.

  The warmth, which had blossomed in his chest when she came in, tightened its grip, and left him feeling short of breath.

  “Sit here, Meredith; we may be informal in the mornings.”

  A footman drew out a chair, and once she was seated, the man poured her chocolate.

  Rupert’s heart thumped oddly as he remembered the body beneath her clothes, and how last night it had responded so beautifully to him.

  Another footman offered to fill her plate.

  “How are you?” Rupert asked. Her head, which had been bent, now lifted and her gaze met his, that lovely vivid blue. “Did you sleep well?”

  She seemed paler than normal and she looked tired. Perhaps her conscience — if she had one — had been bothering her. It should be bothering her... The girl had tricked him into marrying her. Yet today, he was far less angry about the whole debacle.

  “Yes, thank you, Lord Morton.”

  “There is little point in you calling me that, now. You must call me, Rupert, Meredith.”

  She blushed and then glanced at Rowena, who only now lifted her gaze from her letter, and then put the letter aside. Rowena did not speak, though. She merely glanced at her former friend, before picking up her cutlery and starting her breakfast.

  Rupert picked up the paper and passed it to Meredith. “My announcement is in here.” Then he rose, having finished eating. He would go to Jackson’s, and then dine at White’s, before it was the hour to go to the House of Lords.

  He glanced at Rowena. “I have asked Ellen to take you and Meredith shopping today.”

  Rowena looked up, and gave him the sympathetic smile she’d been bestowing on him ever since Meredith had played her ace. Rowena felt guilty, whether her friend did or not. She had been apologizing constantly during the last couple of days; her look suggested another.

  He smiled back. Welcome or not, intended or not, Meredith was to live with them now and they must make the best of it. Rowena would have to learn to forgive as he had to learn to accept. Since last night though, he thought it might be easier than he’d expected to accept his new fate.

  He glanced at Meredith again. She stood, as though to speak or to do something, but then appeared to not know what...

  He left.

  “Rowena —” Meredith began as she took her seat again, but her former friend just lifted her hand.

  “I am not listening to you apologize, Meredith. He is my brother, and I love him dearly. I am too angry to speak to you. He deserves far more than to be trapped by —”

  “I did not plan what I did, Rowena,” Meredith whispered. “It was not like that.”

  Rowena leaned across the table, and with a vicious pitch, ignoring the footmen, accused, “Then how was it? He had no interest in you. You know he did not. I suppose you only became my friend so you might get close enough to him for this...”

  “No! It is not like that! I fell in love him after we became friends, but I have loved him for weeks... I know he does not like me, but my father had agreed a marriage with his business partner. Perrigrew is old, and bitter, and I did not —”

  “Wish to marry him? And so you thought you’d force my brother’s hand. I will shop with you today, Meredith.” Rowena stood up, dropping her napkin on the tablecloth. “But do not expect me to speak to you. I have no wish to be your friend anymore. Rupert warned me about you months ago. He said you only used my friendship. I wish I had listened.”

  She walked away.

  Meredith stood, and a blush burned her cheeks as tears stung her eyes. “That is not true, Rowena! It is not true!”

  The footmen, who still stood at the edge of the room, looked away.

  Meredith left her breakfast untouched, and returned to her chamber, to hide. The bridge Lord Morton had crossed last night stood between her and them again today, with a raging river of uncertainty, and violent emotion flowing beneath it.

  ~

  While Meredith was shopping with Rowena, and her cousin Ellen, they met Lord Kendrick on Bond Street, and he insisted on treating them to tea and cake at Gunter’s. Meredith was surprised to see Rowena smile warmly at him. But then he seemed to be doing his utmost to please her, and he was very solicitous and charming as he fussed over them all, his eyes frequently on Rowena. It was Rowena he offered his arm to, too, as they walked in and out of the shop.

  Meredith was relieved by his presence. The tension which had begun at breakfast had persisted all day, and despite Lady Eleanor chatting merrily and questioning them both, apparently trying to break the silence between them, Rowena had not conceded. Yet the trip to Gunter’s was only a brief reprieve. Once they returned home, Rowena immediately retired to her room and so, therefore, did Meredith. She was too unsure of everything to wander about the house alone.

  It was there, Lord Morton — Rupert, she had to r
emember to call him that — found her later, as a maid was helping her prepare for the evening.

  They were going out to the Foley’s ball. He’d sent word through her maid earlier, but Meredith was not dressed yet. She was standing in her underwear, when he knocked on the door between their rooms, and he did not then wait for her response.

  She jumped as he opened it immediately, and then he was in her room, as he had been last night, although this time he wore evening dress. Her heart thumped. She remembered very clearly how he had looked without it. His body had beautiful, muscular contours. They had caught the candlelight as he’d made love to her, making his skin shimmer.

  His eyes lowered, looking at her stocking-clad toes, and then his gaze skimmed up her body, until he looked into her eyes. Then he seemed to hesitate before speaking.

  “Meredith, my mother wishes to meet you.”

  Meredith’s mouth opened, but she did not know what to say. Lady Stanforth had not wished to see her yesterday. Rupert had told his cousin, his mother was too angry to face ‘the upstart’ he’d wed. Meredith had overheard them speaking. She also knew Lady Stanforth was very ill, and rarely left her rooms. So, it meant they would not speak, unless his mother asked to speak to her.

  If she tried to be nice, his mother would only respond as Rowena had done, though.

  Feeling a blush creep up her neck, Meredith let the air slip out of her lungs. She could hardly refuse the meeting, and she had brought this on herself.

  She wondered if the hostility between herself, him and his family would ever ease?

  She nodded.

  “Very well, be ready in a half-hour and I shall introduce you before dinner.” The words were blunt and sharp, though not disparaging, and not judgmental — just not warm.

  Meredith thought of how Lord Kendrick had spoken to Rowena this afternoon, and longed for the same for herself. If only Rupert would treat her with the same concern and politeness.

  ~

  When Rupert came into Meredith’s room later, she felt just as nervous as she had the night before. His mother had made it clear she was unhappy with her son’s marriage and would never respect Meredith, but seeing as Meredith had forced them all into this predicament, she was to ensure she made Lord Morton a good wife.

  With those words ringing in Meredith’s ears, she had dined with him as they sat at opposite ends of the long table, with what seemed a mile between them. Then in the carriage, on the journey to the Foley’s, he and Rowena had sat next to each other, facing her, silent.

  Meredith had longed to speak. She wished to swear to them she had not intended this, but could not hold herself back from grasping the one thing she’d wished for when the opportunity was there, within her reach. She had wanted to be with Rupert.

  At the ball he’d danced with her once, at the start, a country dance, which meant he had no need to speak to her. Then he’d stood speaking with his cousin while she’d danced with others. It had not even felt as though they were married. Everything felt as it had before, except she’d lost Rowena’s friendship.

  Meredith had been crying in her room until the maid came, to help her undress. Now she was in her nightgown and sitting in bed. She hadn’t known whether to stand, or sit, or how to wait for him...

  She smiled at him, desperately wishing to be the wife he wanted.

  He said nothing, but walked toward her, undoing his dressing gown as he said, “Take off your nightgown.”

  She began unbuttoning it, without rising, her fingers shaking as pain burned the back of her throat and tears stung her eyes.

  But then he was naked, and leaning over her, and his presence and the beauty of his body overwhelmed her as he moved her fingers away and took over the task.

  Her heart beating, her eyes watched his face.

  Once the buttons were loose, one of his hands slipped inside and clasped her breast as his mouth came down on hers.

  They had crossed the bridge which stood between them in the day, again. He did not feel cold and distant anymore. He felt warm, and he was close, and she felt loved as he touched her.

  After a while, he took off her nightgown, and as he did so, a spasm clasped in her stomach anticipating him there.

  He had been there last night. She still ached a little from his invasion.

  Once they were both naked, he lay beside her and touched her, his hands stroking everywhere, and hers caressed him, touching his skin and feeling the muscle and sinew beneath.

  When he touched her between her legs, she parted them and touched him too.

  He broke their kiss and looked down at her.

  He’d left the candles burning, as he’d done the night before, and she could see his face clearly. His eyes were bright.

  “Meredith,” he said, before kissing her again. She did not understand his pitch; it was half question, half statement. She continued to touch him and he continued to touch her.

  The sensation which had overtaken her last night stole her senses away again before he was even within her, and when it did, he moved over her, and she looked up into his eyes, holding on to his shoulders.

  She held her breath as he entered, but it did not hurt tonight. It felt blissfully completing.

  He moved with determined strokes, watching her too.

  She wanted to speak, but she was afraid to, in case it broke the bridge, and he was distant again.

  Her fingers cupped his face, and for the first time she thought of him as truly hers. He was her husband. He was hers.

  His hazel eyes shone as he moved steadily and watched her, watching him.

  She ached with love. She ached with need. Then he stole her wits again, and her mind reeled, while he worked harder for a moment, then pressed deep and cried out.

  Her arms slipped about his neck, and she clung to him, and felt his weight lay more heavily on her.

  She did not want him to leave her body, when he withdrew and pulled away — she did not want him to leave her bed. But she had to let him go; she could hardly force him to stay with her. Yet she wanted to keep standing on this bridge with him, and not let him put distance between them again.

  He rolled onto his back, and lay beside her, and his forearm fell onto his forehead.

  She wished to lie on her side and hug him but she did not dare. Looking up at the canopy of the bed, she said to the air. “I did not intend anything to happen that night...”

  His arm lifted and he turned onto his side.

  “Rupert... I have —”

  His fingers covered her lips. “Let’s not speak about it. What is done is done.”

  He lay back, then set his arm about her and drew her head to his shoulder. “Sleep now, Meredith. I’ll be waking you in a little while.”

  She did sleep, cuddling up against him, held as she had never been held.

  Part Three

  Lord Morton, Rupert — she could not get used to calling him by his given name — was in the breakfast room, when Meredith entered, as was Rowena.

  He stood.

  She moved to take her seat at the end of the table, opposite where Rupert sat, but he beckoned her forwards, as he’d done yesterday morning.

  “Sit here, Meredith.”

  He’d only left her an hour ago, after making love to her a third time.

  Oh, it might not have been love, but it felt like love. He looked at her and touched her with such adoration when they were in bed.

  He’d woken her in the middle of the night, and moved over her. That time had been a precious, very slow, languorous coupling. Then this morning he’d drawn her on top of him.

  She felt soft and warm inside, and her senses still tingled with the intimate pleasure he’d given her, just recently.

  She was unsure if the bridge stood between them, now, here. It had not an hour ago.

  His hand beckoned her again and he smiled.

  Her heart flooding with emotion, she walked forward. She loved him so much, all she wished for was that he would love her in return; or at
least, like, her.

  When she reached him, he caught hold of her hand and then kissed her fingers before encouraging her to sit.

  Her heart thumped and her breath caught in her chest as she did. His kiss, on her fingers, had been gentle, and felt like adoration, as his love making had. She knew she was blushing. She would make him happy. She would do her best to be all he wished.

  When she looked up, Rowena was staring.

  Meredith smiled.

  Rowena did not.

  “I thought I would take you out today, Meredith. What would you say to a drive out of London to an inn I know near Windsor? We might walk a little way along the river afterward.”

  Rowena’s head spun to face her brother.

  Meredith blushed harder as she looked at him, too, and met his hazel gaze, which shone gold in the morning light.

  “We must get to know one another better.”

  Her heart swelling with joy, she nodded.

  “Good.” He looked at Rowena then. “Will you join us?”

  “No. I’ll stay here and go out with Ellen instead.”

  “Very well. I will leave you to eat then, Meredith, and order my phaeton made ready.”

  Once he’d gone, Meredith faced Rowena. “Please come?”

  “So you have me to shelter behind? No. You must face the situation you created.” Rowena’s voice was bitter.

  “I want you to come, because you are my friend, and I do not like —”

  “Friends do not trap one another’s brothers.” Rowena stood.

  A knock struck the open door. Owens, the butler, stood there. “Lady Rowena?”

  “Yes, Owens.”

  “I have a message for you. Lord Kendrick sent a boy to say he will call for you in an hour, my Lady.”

  Meredith’s gaze span from the butler, to her friend. Rowena was blushing now. “Rowena?”

  “Thank you, Owens.” After dismissing the butler, Rowena then glanced about the footmen in the room. “You may all go.”

  Meredith stood as the footmen filed out. “Rowena?” she said again, once the men had gone.

 

‹ Prev