Beauty and the Earl

by Patricia Grasso

  Their kiss was long and languorous.

  “I want no barriers between us,” Amber whispered, her eyes glazed with desire. “Remove your mask and make love to me.”

  Miles froze. “I cannot—”

  “We will snuff the candle.”

  “You fear the dark.”

  “I fear nothing with you.”

  Miles kissed her again and then removed his jacket, waistcoat, and shirt. His breath caught in his throat when she glided her silken fingers across his chest.

  Setting her on the edge of the bed, Miles rolled her garter and stocking down her leg. His lips followed his hands, his tongue tracing a path up the sensitive inside of her thigh. “So soft.” He pressed his face against the valley between her thighs. “So sweet.”

  Miles lavished his attention on her other leg, rolling the silk stocking down and tickling the inside of her thigh with his tongue. He dipped his head and kissed the spot between her thighs, savoring the sound of her throaty moan.

  Miles stood and paused for long moments just to look at her. The princess was everything a man could want in a woman, but she wanted too much in return—she wanted him to bare his scars, his heart, his soul to her.

  If he removed the mask, would he lose her and forever regret the action? How could any woman care for a man as scarred as he? Miles sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes, hose, and breeches. Unable to resist, he ran his fingers lightly across her belly.

  Amber read the emotions warring across his face. Indecision. Anxiety. Yearning. She opened her arms in invitation, welcoming him without conditions.

  His expression cleared. He snuffed the candle, casting the chamber into darkness. Then he removed his mask and set it on the bedside table, taking them one step closer to complete intimacy.

  Miles stretched out on the bed, his muscular body lying across hers. Taking her face in both hands, he kissed her thoroughly, pouring all of his need into that stirring kiss.

  Amber returned his kiss in kind. She flicked her tongue across the crease of his lips, making him groan. He parted his lips for her, and she slipped her tongue inside, exploring his mouth, teasing him.

  Miles glided his lips across her face, planting kisses on her cheeks, temples, eyelids. He kissed a path down the column of her throat, and she arched her body toward him, offering herself.

  His lips drifted lower, burning a path to her breasts. He sucked upon one and then the other, his tongue flicking across the sensitive tips.

  “Yes,” she whispered, pleasure shooting through her, making her yearn for his possession.

  Miles knelt between her legs. He flicked his tongue down the sensitive inside of her thigh and then teased her other leg the same way. With both hands, he grasped her hips and lifted her, pressing his face between her thighs, savoring the essence of her womanhood.

  Amber surrendered completely. With a soft cry, she melted against his mouth as heat surged through her.

  Lowering her hips, Miles pulled a pillow beneath her bottom. He slid inside her and buried himself deep until their groins touched. Miles moved slowly, enticing her to move with him, and when she did, he quickened their tempo.

  Amber wrapped her legs around his waist and met him thrust for thrust. When he ground himself against her, she entwined her arms around his neck and pulled his face closer. “Miles.” She sighed and pressed her lips on the scarred cheek.

  That one kiss sent him reeling over the edge. Miles shuddered and spilled his seed inside her. He captured her lips in one last lingering kiss and rolled to the side, keeping her imprisoned within his embrace.

  They spoke no words.

  None were needed.

  He would never let her go.

  Never.

  Miles kissed the crown of her head. She had made him feel like a whole man again. Yes, his injured cheek was actually smooth to the touch and looked worse than it felt, but she had kissed his scars without hesitation.

  “Sleep in peace,” he whispered, “for you need never worry about your uncle again.”

  “They will search for me.”

  “I will kill them,” Miles promised, his tone deadly.

  “Thank you for protecting me.” Amber fell asleep in his arms, her head against his chest.

  I love her . . .

  The princess had brought him back from the depths of despair, a walking dead man. What if she left him once the danger had passed? She would never have chosen him if she had not needed protection.

  He had loved Brenna, but his wife would never have been attracted to him if he had been scarred before they met. As much as he had loved her, Miles knew she would never have been as nurturing as the princess.

  How strange were fate’s twists and turns? He had thought his life was over. Now he would marry a princess, enjoy a family again, sire more children. He would give his princess gowns and jewels and—someday perhaps—seasons in London as befitting her beauty.

  Her inner beauty far surpassed her uncommon physical beauty. She was a treasure to cherish. He would begin courting her in earnest, and they would wed before the end of the month.

  * * *

  I love him, Amber thought, awakening alone the following morning. Too bad, the earl mourned his wife. She would not think about that now but concentrate on the positive.

  Amber closed her eyes and conjured his image in her mind’s eye. Despite his injury, Miles was a handsome man and masterful lover. She saw his face inching closer, felt his body covering hers, inhaled his fresh scent.

  Strange, how love sneaked up on people and caught them unaware. She would keep the words of love inside lest her boldness frighten him, but she would demonstrate her love in whatever way she could. Perhaps the earl would love her once she delivered their firstborn.

  A horrifying thought occurred to her. What if the earl postponed marriage until she bore him a son? Would she bear a bastard like herself? There would be no way of knowing if she carried a boy or a girl. The earl would never chance his son being born out of wedlock.

  Carrying a tray, Miles walked into her bedchamber without knocking. “You have awakened.”

  Amber smiled, a blush heating her cheeks. “You tired me last night.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Reminiscing.”

  Miles sat on the edge of the bed. He gestured for her to sit up and, when she did, placed the tray on her lap. “Breakfast is served, Princess.”

  Amber tucked the blanket beneath her arms, covering her breasts. “Did you cook this for me?”

  “I would never do that unless I wished to make you ill. Tell me about your reminiscing.”

  “I was daydreaming about . . . you know.”

  “Sweetheart, I told you never to feel embarrassed by what we do in bed.” Miles leaned back against the headboard and put his arm around her shoulder.

  Amber cast him a sidelong glance. He had sat beside her with the masked side of his face turned to her. She smiled inwardly to think how much trust they had managed to build between them. When she first arrived, he would not let her walk on that side of his body.

  “The doing does not embarrass me,” she told him. “Discussing the doing embarrasses me.”

  Miles laughed at that. “Very well, Princess, I will guess your secret thoughts. Were you, perchance, daydreaming about this?” He kissed her. “Your lips are deliciously greasy from the butter.”

  “Yes, my lord, I was reminiscing about our kisses.”

  “Were you thinking about this?” Miles slipped his hand beneath the blanket to cup a breast as if judging its weight and gently squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Amber sighed. She turned her head toward him and welcomed his kiss.

  “We will finish this later,” Miles said, lifting his lips from hers. “If you weren’t a lazy lugabed, you would know how glorious the day is. I must finish paperwork this morning, but would you care to share a picnic lunch with me?”

  Happiness shone from her eyes. “I would love to s
hare anything with you.”

  “Darling, a lady should never wear her heart on her sleeve.”

  “My heart lies inside my chest.”

  “And what a lovely chest it is,” Miles said, and then stood. “Meet me in the foyer at noon. Cook is preparing a basket for us.” He winked at her and quit the chamber.

  Five minutes before noon, Amber hurried downstairs. She wore a white morning gown and had woven her silver-blond hair into one thick braid.

  With a wicker food basket in hand and a folded blanket draped over his arm, Miles waited in the foyer and spoke to Pebbles. When he looked in her direction, Amber gave him her sunshine smile.

  His majordomo opened the door for them. “Enjoy the afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Just-Pebbles.” Amber cast the earl a puzzled look when he laughed out loud.

  Miles and Amber walked across the manicured lawn toward the giant oaks that separated park from woodland. Amber felt lighthearted and gave a little skip of joy.

  “Carry this.” Miles passed her the blanket.

  They walked into the woodland and followed the cool, shaded path to the river. Oaks, beechwoods, ash, and silver-white birch crowded together here like old friends. New mown hay and wild rose scented the air.

  “Look what the rain brought.” Amber pointed at a cluster of mushrooms. “Do you think any fairies are watching us pass by?”

  “The only sprite I see is carrying a blanket.”

  Amber smiled at him. The earl was in an exceptional mood. She didn’t know what had brought the change in him but was thankful to Whomever.

  At the river, Miles unfolded the blanket beneath the sweeping branches of a willow and placed the wicker food basket on top of it. “Your seat, my lady,” he said, gesturing to the blanket.

  Amber plopped down and patted the spot beside her. Miles sat down and, unable to resist, tugged on her braid.

  “You look like a young girl.”

  “I am a young girl when compared to your advanced age.”

  “Thirty-two years scarcely qualifies as ancient.”

  “You may believe that if it makes you feel better.”

  Miles laughed, a sound that was music to her ears. Amber recalled how angry he had been the first few days she had been in residence. “You frightened me at first.”

  “Frightening you was my plan,” he told her. “I mistakenly believed you would go away.”

  “I am more tenacious than I appear.”

  “For that, I am grateful.”

  “Wait a minute.” Amber stood and walked over to a patch of grass where dandelions grew. After plucking one, she returned to sit beside him again and held the dandelion beneath his chin. “You adore butter.”

  “I adore butter and your company.” Miles leaned close to plant a kiss on her lips.

  “I adore your company, too.”

  “Let’s wade in the shallows,” he said, removing his shoes and hose.

  Amber followed his lead. Barefoot, she walked to the edge of the river and, hiking up the skirt of her gown, dipped her toes in the river. “The cool water feels good.”

  “Shall we swim?”

  “Swim? What if someone—?”

  “The land belongs to me. No one will see us if we disrobe.”

  “I do not know how to swim.”

  “Then I will teach you.” Miles took her hand in his and led her back to the blanket. He doffed his shirt and tossed it down and then paused to unfasten her gown.

  “Are you certain no one will see us?”

  “I promise.” He tossed his breeches aside.

  Amber dropped her chemise on top of her gown. She looked at him but kept her gaze on his face, which made him smile.

  “I feel very wicked,” Amber said, holding his hand.

  “I feel like Adam and Eve.” Miles led her into the river. “They shared an idyllic existence before the serpent slithered into their paradise.”

  “I hope no serpent slithers into our paradise,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper, as if she was speaking to herself.

  “I will teach you the doggie paddle.” Miles took both of her hands in his. “Let your legs float behind you off the riverbed and kick your feet.” She complied. “That is correct.” For the next ten minutes, he pulled her around in the water while she practiced kicking her feet.

  “Now I will hold you beneath your belly while you kick your legs and paddle your arms like a dog.” Miles demonstrated for her.

  “You will not let go?”

  “I will never let you go.”

  With the palms of his hands beneath her belly, Amber kicked her feet and paddled like a dog. She glided back and forth across the water and, after fifteen minutes, realized the earl had dropped his hands.

  “I was swimming,” she said, a smile of accomplishment lighting her face.

  Miles grinned and held his hand out. “Come, Princess. We’ll dry off while we eat lunch.”

  “Can we swim again tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Amber dashed from the river to the relative protection of the willow tree’s sweeping branches. With decidedly less modesty, Miles followed at a slower gait.

  “Put this on.” He passed her his shirt and then donned his breeches.

  “Swimming made me hungry.” Amber opened the wicker food basket. “What do you want to eat?”

  “You.”

  “Would you like cold roasted princess or a spicy egg, anchovy, and Amber sandwich?”

  Miles grinned. “I prefer my Amber hot.”

  “Then you will need to make do with chicken. Do you want leg, thigh, or—?” Amber giggled, unable to finish.

  He gave her a knowing smile. “I’ll take your breast.”

  Amber placed the roasted chicken breast and an egg and anchovy sandwich on a plate. Then she passed him the plate and a napkin. For herself, she chose a cucumber sandwich and a macaroon.

  “The macaroons are for dessert.”

  Amber gave him an innocent look. “I thought I was dessert.”

  “You will be dessert if I see more of your leg.”

  They laughed and then ate in companionable silence for a while.

  “I did meet him once,” Amber said.

  “Whom did you meet?”

  “My father. On my sixteenth birthday,” Amber told him, “I attended the opera for the first time with Uncle Fedor, Sergei, and Sergei’s mother. With their entourage, the czar and czarina entered the lobby. He paused beside me.” She closed her eyes, picturing the scene in her mind. “Czar Alexander said I had inherited my mother’s beauty. Then he wished me a happy birthday.”

  Miles lifted her hand to his lips. “You see, Princess, the czar does love you. He even knows your birthday.”

  After they had eaten and packed the remains away, Miles lay down on his back and closed his eyes. Amber plucked a blade of grass, leaned over him, and glided it across his unmasked cheek.

  When his lips twitched into a smile, an imp entered her soul. She tickled his nipple with the blade of grass.

  “You are going to keep me awake, aren’t you?”

  “Probably.”

  Miles put his arms around her and pulled her down across his chest. “Tell me the reason you fear the dark.”

  Amber planted a kiss on his lips. “Uncle Fedor knew that I feared monsters living in closets,” she said, her eyes filling with remembered pain. “He always disciplined me by locking me in a closet.”

  “Your uncle is a tyrant,” Miles said, his anger rising at the idea of her being locked in a closet. “Why didn’t your cousins protect you?”

  “Rudolf attended the university. My other cousins were too young to offer much protection.” Amber smiled when a long-lost memory surfaced. “Rudolf arrived home once when I was crying in the closet. He chopped the door down with an axe and then went after Fedor. Only his brothers prevented him from murdering my uncle. Fedor feared Rudolf, who always championed me.”

  Miles moved his hand behind her hea
d and gently drew her face toward his. He kissed her lingeringly. He wanted to erase all of her pain and loneliness from her childhood. “Princess Amber, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “I do not know if I am with child.”

  “I want to marry you. God willing, we will have a dozen children.”

  Amber gave him a smile filled with sunshine. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Let’s get dressed and go home,” Miles said. “We’ll send notes to my sister and your cousin explaining that we have decided to marry as soon as possible.”

  “I would like to invite the Squelch sisters. They will represent your villagers.”

  Miles burst out laughing. “Darling, the citizens of Stratford are not my villagers.”

  “Whose villagers are they? Your brother-in-law’s?”

  “The citizens of Stratford belong to themselves,” Miles explained. “They are free men and women.”

  “I see.” Amber did not understand at all. “Still, I would like to invite those Squelch sisters.”

  “If you want the Squelch sisters, darling, then you will have them.”

  “Will your daughter live with us?”

  “Do you want Caroline?’

  “She belongs with us.”

  “I knew you would say that. We’ll write those notes after dinner and post them in the morning.”

  Later, wearing only her chemise, Amber rested in her chamber before dressing for dinner. She lay on the bed but found napping impossible, too excited by the prospect of marrying the earl.

  Today had proven a milestone in her life. The earl had proposed marriage and taught her to swim. The reason he had softened his attitude eluded her, but she felt grateful to Whomever for instigating the change.

  I love him. At least, she thought she loved him. How could one be certain of true love? She had been fond of Sergei but had never harbored these intense feelings for him. Perhaps she had known a love between Sergei and herself would be doomed. Still, she had always believed each woman had one great love in her life. For her mother, she supposed, the czar had been that man. For her, the earl would be her one great love.

  What about his love for her? Shouldn’t the woman be the man’s greatest love? She thought of Brenna Montgomery. Would she always place second behind the earl’s first wife? If only she knew a woman who could advise her.