“We discovered those in his bedroom,” Rogers explained. “We were particularly interested in who they were addressed to.”
Edwin read the name. “John Stanton. Who is John Stanton?”
“John Stanton, My Lord, is the true identity of Victor Burrows.”
Chapter 37
He knew how to navigate the garden. He had been here before, though he wondered if she remembered that.
Creeping up to the manor, Victor slipped in through the back-servant’s entrance. It was quiet inside. He knew the staff was away at a festival in the neighborhood, but that their lady remained home, weighed down by her condition. The lord of the home was not in either, but busy with parliament business.
I will not get such a perfect opportunity again.
Making his way up to the main floor, he began sneaking from door to door, searching for her.
Morrington will pay. The Countess’s blood will be on his hands.
At last, he peeked through the doors of what he discovered was the library, and found her sitting by the window, engrossed in a novel. Her rounded stomach was large and heavy looking. He thought maybe he should feel a twinge of guilt, or regret, or…something.
But he did not.
He felt nothing at all.
As quietly as he could, he pulled the knife he had hidden in his jacket out and gripped it tightly in his hand. Carefully, he moved to open the door and rush into the room…
“Who are you?” an angry voice barked, startling him. “What are you doing in my home?”
Victor whirled and discovered the Earl of Pimperton running down the hall toward him. Stumbling back, Victor tumbled backward through the door and fell onto the library floor.
The Countess let out a cry of shock, pushing from her chair, her book falling from her lap. Victor turned on his stomach, thinking he could still reach her. Could still get his revenge.
It is not over. It is not over!
Yet, at that moment, the Earl entered the room and fell upon him. He gripped the wrist of the hand in which Victor held the knife and slammed it against the floor. Pain shot up his arm and his grip loosened. The Earl knocked the knife from his hand. It skidded to the Countess’s feet, and she quickly backed away from it.
“Who are you?” the Earl bellowed turning Victor over onto his back. “Are you here to kill me? My wife?”
Victor fought the Earl’s hold, but the older gentleman was stunningly strong. He wrapped his hands around Victor’s throat and shook his head back and forth.
“Tell me!”
“Wait!” the Countess suddenly shouted, hurrying forward. She gazed down into Victor’s face, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. They went wide with shock and distress. “You…it is you!”
“You know this man?” the Earl growled.
The Countess’s face drained of color, but her eyes flashed with rage.
“It is him,” she hissed, her hand settling on her swollen stomach. “He is the one who…who…”
The Earl froze as he stared up at his wife, but his hold on Victor’s throat did not loosen. He was losing air…stars were bursting in his vision…
The Earl turned cold, furious eyes back to him.
“Go find a servant to send for the constable,” he snarled. “I will hold him here.”
Victor intensified his struggles, the fear of being locked away again driving him to fight. He managed to throw the Earl off balance and knock him away, then he turned and lunged for his knife.
“Run, Emma!” the Earl cried, diving for Victor. He landed on top of him and they both reached for the weapon. The Earl was just a little taller than Victor, and his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife.
Victor thrashed backwards and the two rolled across the floor. Suddenly, he was on top of the Earl and he felt a pain rip through his torso. The Earl stared up at him, his eyes wide with horror. The Countess released a scream.
Victor glanced down and found the knife buried deep in his gut.
No. No. Not like this.
He pressed his hands to his belly as he jerked away from the Earl, hoping to stop the bleeding. It would not stop, however. He began to feel weak and woozy. The room began to blur around him. The Earl slowly pushed to his feet and his wife moved to his side, clutching his arm as they both watched Victor’s life bleed from his body onto their library floor.
Epilogue
“My darling, you are a vision.”
Tabitha smiled at her papa, who stood in the doorway of her room, ready to escort her down to the carriage that was waiting for them in front of their house.
Over a month had passed since Sophia’s kidnapping, and the terrible end of Victor Burrows.
Or, rather, John Stanton.
The revelation that Lord Burrows was in fact Mr. Stanton had stunned them all, but not nearly as much as the rest of the information the detective and constables had uncovered about him.
It had turned out that Mr. Stanton had actually escaped from an asylum years before. He had been locked away there because he was prone to violence, obsessive behavior toward women, as well as a tendency to try and shift his identity in order to avoid the consequences of his actions.
Victor Burrows had been a real person who Mr. Stanton had murdered for his identity. Lord Burrows had spent his youth abroad in Italy. Upon the death of his parents, he had been on his way back home to claim his inheritance when he had the unfortunate luck of encountering Mr. Stanton in his travels. No one had seen Lord Burrows in years, so it had been easy for Mr. Stanton to step into his life and assume his identity.
The violation of his intrusion on their lives still made her gut twist with nausea to think about. That someone so twisted had been so close to her…to her family…
She had lost sleep for weeks after his death, the guilt and fear of what could have happened to them all making her frantic.
Edwin and her sisters had kept her sane. When Mr. Stanton’s death had been reported, the Countess and her husband had come forward to her papa with the truth of what Mr. Stanton had done to her, and what Edwin had not. The Baron had heard the rumors of Edwin and the Countess’s affair, but once they were proven false, had been more than eager to accept Edwin and Tabitha’s engagement.
Tabitha had not wished to wait. She had wanted to marry Edwin as soon as was possible, and even the weeks her Papa had begged her for had seemed far too long a time.
But the day had come at last.
My wedding day.
John Stanton was the last thing on her mind today.
“Are you ready to go to the church?” her Papa asked, extending his arm to her.
Picking up the skirt of her wedding gown, Tabitha moved across the room and slipped her hand around her Papa’s elbow.
With a wide smile, she answered his question. “I am absolutely ready.”
* * *
The church was filled with their friends and family. All eyes were on him as they awaited the arrival of his bride. Edwin felt anxious and wanted to pull at his collar. It felt like it was choking him, but he kept his hands clasped in front of him. His godmother sat in the front pew, a wide smile on her face. She winked at him when they met eyes, and he had to look away quickly or else risk bursting out in laughter.
He felt the urge to laugh a lot more as of late.
Habtage stood next to him and clapped him on the shoulder.
“How are you, my friend?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I will be much better once my bride is here,” Edwin admitted.
Habtage nodded. “I imagine you must be eager to see her at last?”
Edwin glanced toward his friend. “As eager as you are to see Miss Unity?”
Habtage’s face turned a deep red. “Today is about you and your bride. Stop trying to turn things onto me.”
Edwin shook his head with a soft laugh. Suddenly, the doors at the end of the sanctuary were thrown open and everyone in the church turned from him to gaze at Unity and Sophia as they came down the ais
le ahead of the bride. They were both beaming and looking lovely in flowing blue dresses.
Tabitha and her father came next and stood together on the threshold. Edwin’s heart stopped at the sight of Tabitha. She was beautiful, like an angel come down from heaven. In that moment, it struck him how truly lucky he was to have won this lady’s heart.
I do not deserve her.
His chest swelled as her father began escorting her down the aisle toward him. Her smile was radiant when their gazes met. He had to hold himself back from running to her and taking her into his arms.
Soon she will be mine in all ways. I just need to continue to be patient.
When Tabitha and her father reached the altar, Edwin stepped forward and accepted her hand when the Baron passed it to him. His large fingers swallowed her smaller ones, and her skin was so soft, he marveled at the feel of her.
The Baron looked so proud as he moved to take his seat in the front row, and Edwin turned with Tabitha to step closer to the altar where the priest waited for them.
He stared down at Tabitha, his heart swelling with so much love for her, he thought it might burst. She gazed up at him with such adoration in her eyes, it humbled him.
“You are stunning,” he murmured, squeezing her hand.
“Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks pinkening slightly. “You look rather handsome yourself.”
“Are you certain you wish to spend the rest of your life with me?” He made the question sound teasing, but there was a small part of him that was truly concerned she would realize she could do so much better than him.
Her smile softened. “Edwin, I have never been so certain of anything in my life.”
He nearly sighed with relief. “I am so happy to hear that.”
With total confidence in their devotion to each other, Edwin never took his eyes off the lady of his dreams as they stood before their family, friends, and God and pledged their lives to each other.
* * *
She was nervous. Not afraid, exactly, but anxious nonetheless. The day had been perfect thus far. The ceremony had been lovely and romantic, and the following celebration entertaining and joyous.
Now, though, she was alone.
There were no wedding guests to laugh with her or congratulate her happy fortune.
Her sisters were no with her to offer words of comfort or advice.
She could not rely on anyone else from this point on. It was just going to be her and Edwin, alone together.
Truly alone.
Sitting on the edge of the bed in her dressing gown, she wrung her hands in agitation. It was perfectly acceptable for a husband and wife to engage in the act of lovemaking. She and Edwin had already had several experiences together. He had shown her how amazing being intimate with each other could be. What pleasure there was to be found in each other’s arms.
This felt different, however. This would not be a rushed coupling hidden from view of their chaperones. They were married, now. No one would care anymore that they were together. This was the beginning of their lives together. She wanted the experience to be memorable. A soft knock on the door pulled her from her anxious musings.
“Come in,” she called, knowing already who it was.
Edwin stepped into the room, his expression gentle.
“Good evening, my darling,” he said. “How are you?”
“I am well.” She flinched when her voice squeaked.
Chuckling, he crossed the room to stand before her. She quickly pushed to her feet and fisted her hands at her sides to keep from fidgeting.
“Are you tired at all?” he asked, reaching up to run his knuckles along her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered at the contact.
“No, I am not.” That was not true. She was exhausted from their lengthy day, but she did not want him to know that. She did not want anything to keep this night from happening.
Though she was nervous, she longed for his touch. She wanted him, above all else, she wanted him.
“I am happy to hear that.” His voice lowered and grew husky. A shiver ran through Tabitha at the sound. He stopped stroking her cheek in order to cup it in his big palm. “Are you afraid?”
Staring up at him, seeing the love and desire that was burning in his eyes for her, she realized that she was not afraid. Not truly. This was her Edwin, after all. He would never hurt her.
She shook her head, her stomach settling. “No, Edwin. I am not afraid. In truth, I am…I am eager. Does that make me shameless?”
He laughed and pressed his forehead to hers. “No, sweetheart, that does not make you shameless. That makes you remarkable.”
Taking his time, he lowered his lips to her and kissed her so softly, she thought she might weep. After a heartbeat of time, however, he increased the pressure of their contact and soon, the kiss deepened until she was moaning into his mouth.
His hands dropped to her waist to part her robe and push it from her shoulders. Then, he was tugging at her nightgown, pulling it up and over her head. It happened so quickly, she had little time to feel ashamed at her nakedness. Edwin would not let her feel ashamed. He picked her up into his arms and moved around the bed so he could lay her down on the covers. Stepping back, he stared down at her, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.
“My God, Tabitha,” he breathed. “You are…you are a goddess.”
His words made her feel bold. She threw her hands over her head and arched her back, reveling as his gaze devoured her. She bit her lip as her belly fluttered a that space between her legs began to throb.
“Edwin…” His name came out as a plea, but for what, she could not say for sure. She only knew that she wanted to see him, all of him, and then feel his body pressed against hers.
As if he could read her mind, he pulled his linen shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She stared in awe at his powerful form. The ridges of his muscles and the smattering of hair across his chest that lowered into a trail that led past the waist of his pants toward his…
Her cheeks heated and she bit her lip as she realized she would see him what rested between his legs at last. His fingers began pulling at the laces of his breeches, and when the material parted, he pushed them down his legs.
Tabitha gasped. His manhood hung long and thick, and as she stared, it began to stiffen and grow even larger. She worried if it would fit her.
Surely not!
Edwin placed one knee on the bed and leaned over her, his strong arms caging her in on either side of her.
“I see the concern in your gaze, sweetheart. Do not worry. I will prepare you.”
He slid one hand up the inside of her thighs, parting them so that he could reach her treasure trove beyond. His fingers stroked her feminine flesh and she let out a whimper as pleasure bloomed at her core and began to spread throughout her. Her body grew warm and soft as her need intensified.
“Edwin!” she cried when his finger slipped inside her and his thumb found that little nub at the top of her sex. He worked her expertly until she was writhing beneath him, close to her release.
“Do not lose yourself without me, wife,” he said sharply, removing his hand from her. She murmured in protest, but he was moving and settling between her legs, pushing them further apart. Taking his length in hand, he lined himself up with her and then slowly began to sink inside.
Though she was wet and ready, the fit was still tight. There was an uncomfortable burn as he inched deeper and deeper, but she did not let her discomfort show. All would be well in a moment. She just needed to get used to him.
When he had pushed into the hilt, he held very still as her body adjusted to his invasion.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice strained.
She shifted her hips slightly, and the motion made him groan. Some of the sting was dissipating, however. The more he stayed inside her, the more comfortable she became.
“Yes,” she said at length. “Yes, I am all right.”
“May I move?”
She slid her hands
up his arms and clasped his shoulders.
“Yes, husband, you may.”
With a chest-deep moan, he pulled his hips back until he was almost completely out of her, then pressed forward again to slide back inside. Over and over he did this, his pace increasing with each thrust, her channel allowing him smoother entry as her body began climbing back up to the peak of her release.
Soon, he was pumping in and out of her at a rapid pace, and she was lost to the ecstasy he was giving her. She spoke his name again and again, almost like a prayer. Her hips began to undulate to meet his thrusts, and soon enough, she was hurtling over the edge into the abyss, her release ripping through her like a storm.
Improperly Enticed By The Rascal Earl (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 28