Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Madeline Martin

  Raising his head and staring into the mirror, he clasped her wrist and caught it up so that her hand touched his face. His eyes closed and he inhaled.

  She turned, stepping into his arms. If strength had a scent, it surrounded her, wrapping her in a blanket bigger than any she’d ever find on a bed, clasping her with gentleness and swaddling her in wonder.

  ‘I want you to make love to me,’ she spoke softly, but sincerely. ‘I know it’s a risk, but my life seems full of hazards. And I would like to choose one of them.’

  ‘Then let me show you my home.’ The words whispered against her skin reached into her depths and transported her with the touch of his lips on hers.

  * * *

  ‘My rooms,’ Devlin said to the driver and, within seconds, the horses dashed over the uneven road as if they had wings hovering them above it.

  The carriage rolled to a stop not in front of the estate, but nearer the side, and Devlin released her hand to jump from the coach, rotating to hold out his arms for her.

  He lifted her from the carriage and swept her around in a half-circle before she could put her feet on the ground and she tumbled into him. She extricated herself, looking up into the moonlight reflecting from his eyes.

  He held out his arm and led her to a nondescript door far from the main entrance. The entryway had crossed swords on one wall and a case with a map and spyglass on the remaining side.

  ‘It’s the oldest part of the house. It’s private.’

  Inside, the air smelled differently from that the other side of the house. This was tantalisingly male. Leather. Ambergris. Wool. Burning oil from the lamp he’d lifted to shine the light to illuminate her steps.

  He led her into a room filled with overstuffed chairs and a large painting of a horse standing at sunrise. A newspaper lay folded on one of the seats and a fireplace took up most of one wall.

  He put the lamp on the table and his shadow reached well past the ceiling.

  ‘This is my home, my true home. I wasn’t given this suite until after I finished university. In fact, I never plan to relocate to the Earl’s rooms should my father die. I suppose I could feel differently later. But I don’t expect to. I could be a world apart from everyone else who resides here. I’m out of the family pathways, except for Payton’s because he could find me on another continent. Everyone knows they’d best not plan on sharing this area without my permission, and I don’t give it.’

  His desire for solitude surprised her and he seemed to want to set her at ease, and the effort welcomed her.

  Clasping an arm around her waist, he said, ‘You don’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us. I’ve never brought anyone here before, but since we met in this house, I wanted you to visit my suite.’

  He ran a hand up her back, drawing her close, and together they stood connected. She couldn’t think of anything except his presence and her awareness of the private man.

  Something told her that she was seeing inside him to a part he kept for himself and now wanted to share with her.

  The kiss he gave her as she folded her arms around him swept her from the reality of the night into a dream fuelled by his lips.

  He didn’t move away as he released the pins from her hair and let the locks fall aside. A heated, moist breath. A whisper of phrases that sounded endearing, murmured in a language she didn’t understand, and yet she grasped the lyrical words.

  A moment when his darkened eyes took her in before he pulled her closer, their bodies pressing. Her breasts tingled from the length of him and his hardness urged her nearer.

  He led her to a room that only had one shape she could make out in the darkness, a bed that overpowered the small room. He stepped to a dressing room at their side and shadows flickered as he set the lamp aside and grasped the top rung of a chair and slid it closer. She heard the easy slide of his boots and stockings being removed, but she watched the outline of the man, his movements illuminated by a single light that fixed her attention on his frame.

  After he put his boots aside, in a fluid stretch, he rose. He should have been diminished in his bare feet, but instead he appeared assured, commanding and taller. He took up the doorway space and crossed over the threshold, returning to her.

  A body designed by nature at her best. Perfection in every sinew and plane. Something he took for granted, yet her eyes could not.

  He stood before her, and nothing seemed rushed, but as if the universe slept just for them and the night would last for ever.

  In that second, she imagined the night unfolding and paused.

  He immediately stopped, his hand on the tie of his shirt. ‘We don’t have to continue. We can cease at any moment you wish. I’ll take you home now if that’s what you’d like.’

  ‘No. Not that.’ She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘It’s the lamplight.’

  ‘The light?’

  ‘Yes. Please put it out.’

  Immediately he doused the lamp, then he returned.

  ‘I don’t want you to see—’ she whispered.

  He waited.

  ‘My scars. I don’t want you to see. You must promise not to look.’

  ‘I assure you. I assure you that they don’t matter to me.’

  ‘I—I don’t want you to see them.’

  He ran a finger along the side of her face, not stopping until he’d traced the seam of her lips. ‘You’re priceless. A treasure. And you should never doubt that. Are you certain that is the only reason you’re hesitating?’

  ‘It is. It is. The only reason.’ She grasped his waist. ‘It seems so very important to make love to you. To know that I’m desirable and the scars don’t matter.’

  He lowered his head so it rested against hers, his fingers tangled in her hair and holding them close. ‘You can’t feel that—that we must make love to prove something so nonsensical. You must not even consider that you are any less perfect now than on the day you were born. You aren’t.’

  She didn’t speak.

  ‘Listen to my voice. Hear the truth in it. The only person who has any right to have any discomfort about the marks is you, because you felt them and you experienced the pain that grew with them. But no one has any justification to think them any less than another wondrous part of you, like your starlight eyes, your lips that taste of preciousness, your hair sweeping silken against my face and arousing me with each strand brushing me. How can any true man not adore your skin? It is a miracle of womanliness.’

  He used both hands to hold her head, his thumbs at her cheeks, and he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

  ‘We cannot make love in an effort to make you feel more beautiful, Rachael. I would stop now if that were the reason. You must understand first that the scars are less to me than the smallest freckle you have. Only because they are a part of you are they of any consequence at all. You make them special—they do not diminish you.’

  Warmth followed by the hint of night blended with the taste of him. ‘Do you believe me?’ he asked.

  ‘I do.’

  A swathe of his essence enveloped her and her knees almost gave way as his touch fell to her shoulders and then down her arms to encircle her, holding her. It was as if he’d swept the floor from beneath her feet, his arms holding her tightly enough to keep her standing.

  Lips grazed her jawline, sending shivers throughout her body. She caught her breath, awash in the different textures of Devlin against her. The brush of his cheek, the texture of his hair, muscles flexing beneath the skin ignited her body.

  He found her mouth again. He tasted of lemon and brandy, his lips open so that their tongues could touch and their breaths blend.

  He backed away. She feared he’d changed his mind and she yearned for him in a way that was new to her.

  Instead, he led her to the bed, sat and ran his hand down her length, the curve of her increasing the in
tensity of feelings. She’d never expected so much of his masculinity could be absorbed by her body, just from the brush of fingertips.

  He pulled her on to his lap and held her with one arm while he removed her shoes and dropped them to the floor.

  She felt like a porcelain doll, perfect, held secure and cherished. Moments she would appreciate for ever.

  Burrowing her face against his skin, she breathed in, savouring the experience, prolonging the feel of their embrace.

  He stood, taking her with him and helping her to her feet.

  His lips cut off her ability to speak and she pressed her body nearer him, flattening into his shape, held as one against him. Instead of feeling a lesser person, she absorbed his strength, buoyed along with him surrounded by waves of yearning.

  He slipped his tongue against her lips and passion grew, heating her with a longing that would have protected her from the coldest storm.

  He touched her dress, releasing the hooks and slipping it from her shoulders, in one long, draping slide that teased her skin as the garment flowed from her body. In seconds, the corset fell to the floor.

  She spread her fingers, letting them trail over his chest, relishing the textures.

  Lifting her, he placed her on top of the bedcovers. He finished undressing, his trousers falling to the floor, and slid beside her, lips again touching. His movements created friction, teasing her nipples, sending molten lava sparks inside.

  She wrapped her leg around him, pulling him close. His fingers tangled in the chemise and the fabric glided over her head, giving her a chance to gasp a breath before their lips touched again.

  Caressing her breast, he moved gently back, yet she felt his member touching her, causing an insistent yearning she’d never felt before. Then he rocked against her, holding her hips closer, and then again and again he moved, until the intensity grew so that she couldn’t contain it.

  She released and as she did, he joined to her, moving inside, rocking together, slowing the intensity in his body, and he held her close, but instead of releasing, he pulled away. Then he lay beside her, her name a gasp on his lips, until he completed the moment.

  While he held her close, she shut her eyes and rested against him, sated in a way she’d not known existed, and she felt her lips curl into a satisfied smile.

  * * *

  She awoke. She’d had the most delicious dream. She stretched her arms wide and her fist bumped a body. A body nothing like her own except it had the necessary amount of appendages with one more.

  ‘Devlin,’ she gasped and saw a fortress of naked male, all bristly and furry and firm, propped against the pillows where he half sat.

  Her memories of the night inundated her. ‘I fell asleep. I’ve just been so busy. The parties at night. Learning during the day.’

  She had thought about making love to him. She had thought about him leaving her. But she had never considered that she might wake up beside him.

  He took the fingers of her left hand and brought them to his lips for a tender kiss, then pulled her into the curve of his arm. ‘I could have easily woken you.’

  ‘I was sleepy because I was up so late last night. There’s so much to get right.’

  ‘You have people to help you. Grimsley. Your father and mother. Me.’

  ‘I know. But everything is so different. So many changes. Even tonight. It’s as if I stepped into someone else’s life, but not my own. As if I’m still acting a part. I didn’t expect to feel that way. I expected to feel as if I was claiming my own future.’

  ‘Acting?’ The word snapped from his lips.

  ‘Yes. I don’t know how I should react. What I should say to you. I should tell you I love you, but I’m afraid to. I’m afraid that it might send you away from me. And what if I don’t, then it might drive you away, or make you unhappy.’

  Instantly, he pulled her close. ‘This is not about us making each other happy. It’s not. It’s about caring. It’s about sharing a part of ourselves. It’s about not acting, but being ourselves. The true us. Without that, we have nothing. Do you regret tonight?’

  ‘Not at all.’ She didn’t. How could she regret something that she couldn’t even comprehend fully?

  ‘Then don’t worry about anything else. Not anything.’ He ran a hand down the side of her body, soothing her. ‘You don’t have to concern yourself about what it felt like, or how you’re supposed to react, but about being together.’

  His words were meant to reassure her, she thought. But they didn’t. They rumbled the earth underneath her even more. She’d somehow always considered that two people would immediately separate to their own rooms after making love. That it would be something she could reflect on when she was alone in her room.

  Not. In. Devlin’s bed.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t have regrets?’ he asked again. The low rumble of his voice floated into the room.

  She did as he’d told her to do and repeated the question. ‘Regrets?’ This time, she contemplated the question and herself. ‘I don’t.’

  She just didn’t want to make the mistake of becoming lost in a new world that she was unfamiliar with. Of making a new life that was someone else’s.

  No, she didn’t regret being with him.

  But she imagined herself forced into a marriage because she had to save her reputation and steeled herself to stay on her own path. She did not want either of them forced into a marriage. Whether he resented her or not, she would believe he did.

  In one fluid movement, he pulled her to him again so that his lips could brush hers.

  ‘I can’t promise all that I will say will make you happy and I can’t assure you I will always think before I speak. But you will be able to look at my face. You will have more to judge than ink on paper. You will have me in front of you. I will not hide behind paper. Will you promise me the same?’ he asked. ‘If you wish to end our friendship, say so now. To my face.’

  ‘I don’t. I know I don’t.’

  Her voice was the merest sound that could have reached his ears. Her words lingered in the air like a fireplace ember sparked from the rest and which lay there glowing on and on.

  The last speck of the luxurious haze of romance evaporated and she saw herself plunging into another unsatisfying commitment.

  Another chance at a humiliating dissolution of a future.

  Then a clock chimed once, twice, three times. Then a fourth.

  ‘Four?’ She realised how long she’d been gone from her home and on the heels of that revelation others thundered into her brain, clearing the haze that had focused everything so that her mind had created a whirlwind with Devlin in the centre of it.

  ‘Blast,’ she said, rolling with the covers. ‘I’m... It’s...’ She gaped at the window. ‘I am not thinking clearly. This was a wonderful, beautiful between us and I wouldn’t have missed it—but where are my clothes?’

  She heard the covers rustle and he sat alert.

  ‘As long as you’re not having second thoughts.’ His voice came through the darkness, reassuring in tone.

  ‘I’m not. I have to get home. Now.’ She jumped up from the bed, pulling the sheet with her, and wrestled her shift on. ‘Double blast it backwards.’ She switched it around without taking it over her head. She grabbed her corset and stepped into it. ‘Help me.’

  She moved to the side of the bed where he sat and turned away from him. She felt the tugs of her ties. In seconds he had her in the corset and she stepped into her dress, leaving the hooks undone as she reached for her stockings. ‘I must get home now.’ She couldn’t fall into his arms.

  As she slipped her stocking over her foot, she imagined the murmurs. If anyone heard of this, so soon after the broken betrothal, everyone would assume she was latching on to the Viscount to salve her pride. The very thing she feared when ending it with Tenney.

  She gave
up on getting the cotton perfect, letting a snarl of it remain at her heel.

  ‘Rachael,’ he soothed. ‘It’s not morning yet. You’ve time. The driver will wait. He’ll drop us not far from the house and I’ll escort you inside. We’ll be dark shadows walking in the night, like a stableman and his beloved. No one will know tonight. We need to discuss this.’

  A discussion. She didn’t have time for a discussion.

  ‘The maid is to wake me at six.’ She slipped on one shoe.

  ‘Six?’

  ‘Of course. But I fell asleep. Where is my other shoe?’

  ‘Rachael.’ He rose from the bed. ‘Nothing is going to change in the next few hours. You’ve time to leave. But why would you have a maid wake you so early?’

  ‘My shoe? Did you see it? Never mind.’ She didn’t want to answer.

  He bent over and picked up the shoe and handed it to her.

  ‘How do I get out?’ she asked, slipping it on.

  ‘Once I’m dressed I will get you safely home.’ He pulled up his trousers. ‘It will look better if I’m not walking along the street naked.’

  She handed him his shirt. His being naked would not be a bad sight, but it would certainly not keep the encounter secret.

  ‘Thank you.’ He took it, slipped it under his arm and twirled her around to do her hooks.

  When he finished, he hugged her tight. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Instantly, she stopped moving. The tone of his voice tore at her heart. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t, because she didn’t.

  She turned, cupping the bristly jaw in her hands. ‘I’m overwhelmed. So much has changed in the past few days. The past few moments. I have to have some time to catch up with what is going on in my life.’

  Clasping her fingers, he said. ‘As long as you don’t regret it.’

  ‘No. Not at all. Yesterday, I asked my maid to wake me early. I didn’t think about...this.’ Six o’clock would give her time to prepare before the tutor arrived. Those multiplications were challenging. Then the tutor would be gone by the time her father woke. Her father slept later and she didn’t want to risk him seeing her struggle and forbidding her to take the lessons. He’d told her before that education was difficult and his family would not have to struggle. ‘I’m having...lessons.’