Timeless Deception

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Timeless Deception Page 17

by Susanne Marie Knight


  However, as she walked by a small group of men clustered near airy, green palm trees by the staircase, she overheard, “Saybrooke has finally brought his wife to heel!”

  The men laughed ribaldly, save one. “Kincaid, why are you standing with a frown on your face? Is it because your former ladylove does not acknowledge your presence?”

  Cripes! Alaina hurried away from the group. The name of Kincaid meant nothing to her, but if Alicia was his former ladylove, she certainly didn't want to meet him.

  Instead, she took Lady Ravenwood's advice and mingled. In the midst of a conversation with one of Lucy's friends, a tap on her bare shoulder caused her to turn around.

  “Enjoying yourself....Alicia?” Richard questioned in his deep, rich timbre.

  “Oh! Um, Richard! Ah, hi.” She almost bit her tongue. Good grief, she sounded so stupid, but all the same, what a shock.

  The musicians’ next selection was a waltz, and Richard exercised his rights by preempting any prior claims for her hand. She docilely followed him to the dance floor, hoping this would preclude a conversation. She dared not look at his face, instead staring at his black double-breasted dress coat and striped satin waistcoat.

  “Has my tie-pin become loose in my cravat? Is that what is so affixing your interest?"

  “Um, no,” she replied quickly. “It's just that ... I didn't expect you here. Northumberland's quite a distance away."

  Being in his arms was the best kind of torture she could ever imagine.

  “Not that I'm not glad to see you,” she managed to blurt out guiltily. In God's name, she had to get a grip on herself. Had to get her emotions under control.

  Wrenching her gaze away from his pearl and diamond tie-pin, she looked into his piercing blue eyes. A head to toe tingling caused her whole body to vibrate.

  “I am pleased to hear it, my dear. I decided to forgo the trip to the wilds and traveled instead to Saybrooke Hall. Some matters there to clear up. I did not want to miss your first society event. How many months has it been?”

  As Richard pivoted her suddenly, she made her answer against the column of his neck. A masculine scent of fresh sandalwood wafted through her senses.

  Oh gosh. She swallowed down hard. “Who keeps track?” With a little finagling, she managed to move back from him.

  But then he tightened his grip on her waist. “I must compliment you on your appearance tonight,” he said, fingering her gold leaf earrings.

  She almost died from the pleasure of his touch.

  “That is a captivating gown you are wearing.” He ran his left index finger down the length of her neck to the bottom of her bare shoulder.

  Oh dear God! She couldn't suppress a tremble. What in the world was he doing? When her nipples had the audacity to peak, she took matters into her own hands.

  Holding her body more stiffly, she commented, “Isn't this a beautiful ballroom?” She looked everywhere but at him. How on earth was she ever going to make it through the rest of the evening?

  Richard was not fooled by Alaina's show of nonchalance. He now prided himself on being attuned to her every mood change. The soft, supple mounds of her breasts showing provocatively from the frill of white crêpe, moved more rapidly than the exercise of the dance merited. He looked forward to an ... interesting night.

  Before the last chords of the waltz were played, she pulled away from him, opened her silk fan, and professed an overwhelming thirst.

  So she hoped he would take the hint and bring her some lemonade, eh? But, no. He would not leave her side. Gesturing to Nigel, he assigned the task to his brother.

  Looking down at Alaina's agitated ... and desirable figure, Richard called after his brother, “Better make it champagne.”

  “Let's tell your mother that you're here,” Alaina insisted. “I know she'll be happy to see you."

  “As you wish, my dear.” Alaina's nervousness at his presence was very gratifying. Very gratifying indeed.

  As they headed for the Dowager Countess’ table, Richard bumped into a distinguished gentleman in his early fifties. The man then turned around.

  “Ah, Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise. Didn't recognize you. Beg your pardon for my clumsiness.” Richard inclined his head in greeting.

  He could hardly suppress a smirk of laughter at Alaina's polite smile and nod to the noble peer. It was obvious that she did not know the man in front of her.

  “Saybrooke, been meaning to pay you a visit. Have heard nothing but excellent reviews on your Fishbourne excavation. You must give me the highlights one of these days.” The Duke of Blakesdale clasped him on the shoulder and remarked that Richard was looking exceedingly well. The Duke then quizzically lifted an eyebrow at Alaina.

  Alaina, reddening at the man's gaze, made a move to turn, but Richard placed a restraining arm around her waist.

  The Duke's other eyebrow raised to its twin's height but all he said was a gruff, “Well, I won't keep you ... and your wife. Do stop by Berkeley Square, Saybrooke. I see we have some matters to discuss.”

  “I look forward to it, Your Grace.” After taking their leave, Richard guided Alaina through the crowd. She must have found his arm around her middle comforting, for she allowed him the liberty of leaving it there.

  With some hesitation and studied casualness, she said, “I'm glad your presentation was so well received. His Grace was definitely impressed.”

  No doubt she wanted him to reply, but he kept his own counsel.

  Another pause. “Um, I seem to have forgotten his name.”

  Richard helped her up the two steps to his mother's table, but could not keep the grin from his face. This was further proof of her charade. The nail in the coffin—so to speak.

  He leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Indeed? I would not admit that to anyone else...Alicia. His Grace is a very powerful man. He is the Duke of Blakesdale.” And silently he added, And, he is also Alicia's father.

  ~*~

  Alaina sat in front of the mirrored vanity in the bedroom assigned her by the Marchioness of Ravenwood, methodically brushing her dark hair. Since she was only to be gone for one night, she hadn't brought Dana with her. She now waited for one of her hostess’ maids to help her with the metal hooks at the back of her gown.

  Smiling, she set her brush down. All in all, the evening went very well. No, actually, it went great. There'd been a few minor mistakes, but none of the guests seemed to expect more than the polite generic greetings she gave them. There'd been no reason to fear appearing in society. She was glad Lady Wilhelmina had forced her into finally getting out.

  Even Richard behaved cordially. More than cordially. Her smile deepened. He didn't question any of her statements and somehow understood that she was nervous. Why, he went out of his way to make things easier for her. Look at his advice about forgetting the Duke of Blakesdale!

  How charming he was when he wanted to be. And he was oh, so charming tonight.

  Indulging her fantasies, she closed her eyes to block out reality and relived the scene from a short while ago. She had been about to retire for the night. As Richard looked into her eyes, he had given her gloved hand a lingering kiss, and said, “Sweet dreams.”

  Sweet dreams. She gave into temptation and imagined more than a lingering kiss on her hand. In the middle of this daydream, she made a murmuring sound. If only—

  A touch on the nape of her neck brought her crashing back to earth. Must be the maid removing her necklace. Feeling foolish to have been caught in a reverie, Alaina opened her eyes and saw Richard's reflection in the mirror!

  “Richard!” she exclaimed, jumping off the chair. “I didn't hear you come in.”

  “Carpeted floor,” he gestured downward in explanation. “When I entered, you seemed to be ... preoccupied.”

  It was useless to hide her fierce flush. She was about to ask why he was in her room, but a gentle knock on the door interrupted her.

  A young servant girl entered and inquired, “You have need of my serv
ices, My Lady?”

  Richard spoke faster. “No, Her Ladyship no longer requires your services.”

  While Alaina stood with her hands on her hips, a surprised maid was shown the door.

  “Now what did you do that for? And, by the way, why are you in my room?” she questioned accusingly.

  As he removed his tie-pin and untied the knot in his cravat, he took his time in answering. Removing the neckcloth, he stated matter-of-factly, “Lady Ravenwood was in a dither about a shortage of rooms, so I volunteered to share one with my wife. You do not mind, I hope?”

  Oh my gosh! Alaina backed away from him and watched a muscularly virile Richard Cransworth remove his waistcoat and place it on the seat next to the bed. He looked more appealing, more seductive, and more dangerous in his open shirt and tight white breeches.

  She quickly scanned the room and spotted a chaise-lounge by the window. “Um, not if you don't mind,” she lied, biting her lip. Her mind working furiously, she added, “I'll sleep there.”

  When he stepped behind her and slowly, sensuously eased his hands down her arms, her hand dropped from its direction of the lounger.

  “That won't be necessary,” he said with a husky voice, kissing her shoulders and unfastening her gown.

  Alaina's heart pounded violently. Oh, dear God, this ... this was too good to be true. Her knees buckling, she started to sway.

  He continued his assault on her senses. Moving in front of her, he then pulled the unresisting gown down her arms.

  “But, I don't understand,” she weakly whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why?” He nibbled the sensitive skin under her earlobe.

  She could no longer hide her trembling. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. Discarding the now-useless evening gown, he gently laid her down and covered her with his body.

  “Why?” he repeated, his eyes darkening with rising passion. “Because I want you."

  His kiss, tentative at first, tore away all her self-restraints. He didn't hate her! Her kisses didn't fill him with disgust.

  Opening her mouth to him, she was desperate for wanting him, needing him, loving him.

  He also was hungry for her. As their tongues tangled together, he took possession of her mouth, of her body, of her soul.

  “Oh, Rick,” she panted through heated breaths. “Oh, I want you, too."

  “Rick?” he murmured in the shell of her ear. “Is that regal, respectable and rude Rick?"

  She trailed kisses down the cord of his neck. “Um, no. You're romantic, red-hot, and rakish Rick.” A raging fire burned through her. Her body screamed for them to become as one. How in blue blazes had she ever lived without this man before?

  He claimed her mouth once again, and her thoughts as well. Somehow their clothes melted away in the rush of their passion. His hair-roughened chest pressed against her, she slid her hand's down his sleek muscular back to stop on his rock-hard buttocks.

  “Ally,” he groaned from the softness of her breasts. “I shall call you adorable, appealing, and appetizing Ally."

  Taut with desire, he nudged her leg aside. “I cannot wait, my love,” he confessed.

  “I can't ... either. Oh, hurry, Rick."

  When he eased his bulk inside her, she closed her eyes from the beauty of it. It had been long, so long, and she'd never made love to anyone like him before. Anyone she loved.

  My love, he called her. A deep, sensual warmth seeped into her. Love spread its golden wings throughout her entire being.

  Arching her back, she felt every thrust, and cherished every groan. Stronger and stronger, deeper and deeper, she soared with him until they both climaxed.

  As one. She smiled. Home. She finally had come home.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Mid-morning sunbeams filtered into the bedroom, causing Alaina to blink awake. Nestled against Rick's solid body with his arm curved around her, she enjoyed his scent, his feel, his warmth. She sighed with contentment and snuggled closer.

  Bliss. This really was bliss. How many times had they made love last night? Who remembered? Each time deserved mention in the Guinness Book of World Records. Pure, sweet, and intense love.

  Turning toward him, she studied his sleeping face. Any harsh lines had now vanished. He looked younger and much more content.

  As she was. Did anyone have the right to be this happy?

  Carefully pushing his dark hair away from his forehead, she reached over to give him a kiss.

  Happy didn't even describe half of what she felt. Imagine having to travel almost two hundred years into the past to find complete and total ecstasy.

  But what if something went wrong? What if someone or some event took this happiness away?

  Her eyes blurred with tears. If only this moment in time would last forever. Then she'd never have to worry about losing Rick.

  “What is this?” Rick murmured, as he woke up. He pulled her closer to him, his blue eyes sparkling with suppressed emotion. “After a night of pleasure, I find you crying with abandon?"

  She melted against him. Dear God, he was so wonderful.

  Rick kissed away her tears, and one thing naturally led to another. They made intense, savage, and urgent love.

  ~*~

  Lying back against the headboard, Richard surveyed the goddess by his side. As he caressed the soft curve of her perfect belly, he stated reverently, “You are so beautiful.”

  He also felt a twinge of conscience. Before Terrence, Alicia's stomach had been just as flat. A difficult pregnancy, responsible for silvery stretch marks marring her abdomen, coupled with a painful delivery, had changed headstrong Alicia into a veritable termagant.

  These imperfections mattered not in the slightest to Richard. But she had never forgiven him nor Terrence for her disfigurement.

  Alaina's voice broke through his fog. “What are you thinking, Rick? You look so sad.”

  “What a pair we are,” Richard laughed, to chase away the dismals, “with you crying and me thinking maudlin thoughts! What did bring on those tears, my dear?”

  “I guess I was wishing that this time together would never end. I want it to go on forever.”

  Kissing her nose, he said, “I do not see why it cannot."

  “Men!” Now Alaina laughed. She slipped out from under him, put on a robe and stood to face the new day. “Of course it has to end. We can't stay in bed forever.”

  He tried to grab the corner of the dressing gown to pull her back onto the bed, but failed. Sighing, he countered, “And why not?”

  “Well, in the first place, this is not your house,” she said, brushing her sleep-tangled locks.

  With his elbow resting on the mattress and his head in his palm, he watched Alaina's movements. How beautiful she was. He could not believe even the simplest of actions could be so gracefully performed. And she was his—all his.

  “The Marquess owes me a few favors, Ally. He would not cavil at our staying here.”

  “In the second place, I'm hungry.” She stopped him as he was about to speak. “Yes, I know we could have room service ... I mean, have our meals brought up here. But I'd rather not give everyone more to talk about.”

  That remark engendered a smile on his face. He jumped out of bed and put on his own robe. “What? My little wife becoming a prude?”

  She retaliated by throwing her hairbrush at him.

  He ducked. “I call a truce,” he said, giving Alaina a fond kiss. If only they could stay within these four walls! “My garments are in Nigel's room. Let us change and meet in the Dining Salon for breakfast.”

  Alaina agreed. “Okay. How about fifteen minutes?"

  “You can ready yourself that quickly?"

  “I'm hungry! Remember, I worked up an appetite.” By the Lord above, her wanton smile caused his heart to constrict.

  “You vixen!” Slipping into the corridor, he turned back for one last look at her. In his heart, he felt certain she was reluctant to see him go, even as he was. This truly was the
dawn of a new day.

  ~*~

  As with everything else, Groughton Castle's Dining Salon was on a grand scale. The white and blue interior boasted of valuable paintings ranging from old masters such as Titian, to “contemporaries” like Sir Joshua Reynolds. Over the course of her stay with the Cransworths, a streak of loyalty must have developed. The State Dining Room at Saybrooke Hall, while not as large, was more magnificent in her eyes.

  Instead of having the food displayed on the sideboards, as she was used to, breakfast was a more formal affair. Several liveried footmen, dressed in white and blue, constantly hovered over the guests, each holding different dishes with which to tempt morning palates. The only casual aspect of the meal was open dining. The guests wandered in and out as they wanted.

  When Alaina entered the Dining Salon, well after eleven o'clock, Rick was already seated, with his mother and Clarice Penterbury on either side of him. Alaina gave him a special smile and sat opposite the man who had so recently shared her bed, and she hoped, her life. His gaze lingered over her and sent a private message for her alone.

  At his look, she melted again. Goodness! A warm flush tingled on her cheeks. Reverting to your love-sick adolescent days, aren't you, Alaina?

  Selecting a portion of eggs, she concerned herself with eating and making small talk with Nigel, who had also just joined the group.

  The Dowager animatedly chatted with Lady Ravenwood. Then she turned to address the new arrivals. “My dears, such wonderful news! Just this morning it happened, shortly after four—four fifteen to be exact. Denise and I won the wager. We said it would be a girl!”

  The two ladies virtually bubbled over with their good fortune, whatever it was that they were talking about.

  “Slow down, Mother. What wager are you referring to?” Nigel inquired.

  “Why, of course. I forgot to mention all the details. We got the news a scant while ago. This morning, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Alexandrina Victoria was born. The Duke of Kent is so thrilled, he sent the word to be proclaimed throughout the realm. Edward's infant daughter holds the fifth place in the succession to the throne, after the Regent, Frederick, William, and himself.”

 

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