“No, my lady. I am fine. Mr. Laurent has already seen to my stitches and all is well.”
“Thank goodness. I’m going to make sure your room is clean. I don’t want you to see a trace of that horrible man when you return.” Honoria scurried out of Jacques’s room.
The door was left open, but quiet descended and they were blissfully alone. Jacques sat at the edge of the bed and took her left hand in his. “I wish you could stay here with me.”
“I was thinking the same thing, but I’m of little use with this arm and shoulder immobilized.”
“Having you near would be more than enough.” He leaned over and kissed her palm.
Diana wanted to tell him so much of what was in her heart, but with people rushing up and down the hall, it was not the right time. Despite her desire to be alone with Jacques, her body rejected wakefulness. Her eyes grew heavy. “I’m sorry.”
He pushed her hair back from her cheek. “Sleep, my love. We will talk when you wake up.”
Regardless of her efforts to remain with him, sleep claimed her, and with it came images of a madman strangling the breath from her.
Jacques’s whispered pledges that she was safe and should rest easy chased the demon away.
* * * *
Jacques couldn’t sleep. Most nights he sat up watching the sky. Cloudy, starry or bright with the moon, he watched. Each day Diana grew stronger and endured less pain. She walked the hallways daily, regaining her strength. Dr. Page came twice a week to check on her progress. Jacques longed for the day he could take her away from Buckrose.
It had been three weeks since the last attack by Victor Caron. His body was long gone, hauled off to London. All that remained were Diana’s nightmares about that fiend.
Giving up on sleep, Jacques pulled on his breeches and blouse and padded down the hall to see if Diana was resting easily.
The room was empty save for her sleeping form tucked into the bed. He sat beside her. All evidence of the mayhem that had transpired in the room had long been cleaned away. It had taken several times scrubbing to get the bloodstain out of the floor. Jacques would carry the blood on his hands much longer. Yet he couldn’t regret killing Victor. He’d had no choice in the moment, and he would have always been a danger to Diana.
“Is that you, Jacques?” Her groggy voice made him long to hold her close and hear her speak for days on end before ravaging her from head to toe.
“Yes, my goddess. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I can’t sleep. When I close my eyes, I see terrible images.” Her complaint was sad, and she sounded lonely in the darkness of her room.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Shall I hold you?”
“Someone might come in and find you.”
“Then I will marry you immediately.” He hoped someone would move up the date of his careful plans. He climbed under the covers and, lying on his side, wrapped his arm around her middle.
Her good arm wrapped around his, and she sighed a long, contented breath. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?”
He’d wanted more from her but hadn’t pushed. All these weeks she’d been warm and flirtatious, but nothing more. “I am never sure what you feel, my love. You keep your emotions under such tight control, I struggle to read them.”
Rolling to her left, she faced him. With the fire nearly out and the curtains blocking any moonlight, he could only see the light of her eyes. “Forgive me. I have spent so long hiding my feelings, it is difficult for me to express them as others do. You have been a kind and wonderful friend and deserve more.”
“Is that what I am, a friend?” Disappointment sounded in his tone despite his attempt to remain unscathed.
“Friend, lover, are we engaged? I think we are engaged. Perhaps the laudanum fogged my mind. Did you propose?” She pressed her palm to his chest and petted him from neck to nipple.
The effect of her touch was immediate and damned uncomfortable. “I told you twice, I want to marry you. I also confessed to loving you.”
“It always seemed there was someone interrupting or rushing in at the worst moment.” She cupped his cheek.
“I wish I could see your face.” He ran his fingers along her braided hair, toying with the bit at the end.
Taking his hand, she pressed his palm between her breasts. “You might not be able to see my face, Jacques, but you can feel my heart. I love you. I need you. I never expected to marry, and your love is a miracle to me. When you said I could go and work for Francis if I wanted, I thought you meant to go back to before and live my life as an Everton lady. When I realized you were a man who didn’t mind if his wife pursued her own goals, I knew you were the only man whom I could ever marry.”
It wouldn’t surprise him if his heart exploded with too much happiness. “I am the happiest man alive.”
“My joy is equal to yours, sweet, sweet Jacques. You saved my life, too many times to count.”
“You saved mine as well, my love. More than that, you saved my heart when I thought it was dead to such emotions.” Careful not to put pressure on her right side, Jacques leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.
She sighed and threaded her fingers through his hair. She tangled her tongue with his in a dance as close to making love as they could come in their current circumstance.
She tasted like heaven, and he could snack on her all day. Never had anyone else’s kisses been so sweet. If he wasn’t careful, he would become a poet and bore all his friends.
Jacques longed for all of her, but feared hurting her.
Tugging her right arm from its sling, Diana cupped his cheek and deepened the kiss.
About to lose his mind in the passion of her kiss, Jacques pulled back. “You will hurt yourself, or worse, I might hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me. That is the one thing I can always be certain of. I think you should go and bolt the door and then come back to bed.”
Unable to resist and truly not wanting to, he sucked her bottom lip between his and then the top. Her response was a low moan as she clutched at his blouse. “Do not move and do not change your mind.”
Her giggle was like bells. “I won’t change my mind.”
After an uncomfortable walk across the room, Jacques slid the bolt home. He took the candlestick from the table and lit it with a stick from the fire. It wouldn’t do to be deprived of seeing his goddess.
Placing the candles on the nightstand, he removed his clothes and climbed under the covers.
She rolled to him and her lips pressed warm and seductive against his neck. She ran her good hand up and down his chest while keeping the other still at his shoulder.
Easing along her waist, he found one perfect breast and caressed just under before molding her in his palm and toying with her hard nipple.
With a gasp, she turned her head and kissed him, her lips and tongue boldly asking for exactly what she needed.
Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. “You have to tell me if you are hurting or even uncomfortable, Diana.”
She gripped him just as tight and pressed her center close, trapping his shaft between them. “I will tell you, but right now, my only discomfort is in wanting you.”
That needful desire was the most potent aphrodisiac. Running his hand down her thigh, he reveled in her softness. At her knee, he lifted so that her leg bent, then slid his hand along her inner thigh. Tiny gasps escaped her lips as he caressed between her legs. “You are all I want for the rest of my life, Diana.”
Arching toward him, she gasped. “I am yours.”
He rolled so that she lay atop him.
Her eyes widened before a smile pulled at her lips.
Helping her raise her hips, he positioned her at th
e tip of his shaft and let her choose the pace of their joining.
Slow and torturous, she slid over him. Her sheath tugged him in as she dug her nails into his shoulders.
Jacques pulled her down flat against his chest and kissed her mouth as she trembled with need.
Lifting her hips, she moved to the rhythm of her heart.
Pure delight spread through him from his center and a low groan emerged from deep in his chest.
Quickening her pace, she rose higher and came down harder as he met every move with the rise of his hips. The pleasure intensified and cascaded. She stared into his gaze, love so plain in her eyes.
He covered her mouth with his to mute her scream as an orgasm shattered her. His own pleasure only an instant behind, he held in his cries of delight.
She collapsed on top of him and rested her cheek on his chest.
Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her hair and breathed in her warm floral scent. “You make me very happy, my love.”
“Will it always be like this?” Her breath became one with his as if they were inseparable.
The first light of day banished the night and peeked through the window. “In the future, we will be married, and I will not have to sneak down the hall before the servants rise.”
She kissed his chest. “That will be so much better.”
Heart in his throat, he kissed her again and regretted leaving. “It will, but know this, Diana, Goddess of the Moon. You make me the man I have always wanted to be. You are the part of my soul that has been missing.”
Her sweet mouth opened and closed several times and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I wish I knew what to say.”
“Saying you will be my wife is enough.” He took her left hand, wanting one last touch before he had to leave her.
Sitting up, she pulled his hand forward and kissed his fingers. “I can’t wait to be Mrs. Laurent.”
Heart swelling, he knew he was grinning like an idiot. “You can have anything you want, my love, and making you Mrs. Laurent will give me the most exquisite pleasure.”
Epilogue
Diana walked through the gardens at the Middleton country estate and pulled her cloak tighter around her throat. The temperature had dropped, and clouds foretold the coming snow.
“There you are,” Jacques called from the veranda.
Her husband always appeared whenever she needed him. “I just needed some time to think.”
Trotting down the steps, he jogged over to her. “Is all the Christmas celebrating too much?”
They had married as soon as custom would allow, collected Jacques’s parents, and come directly to meet Preston, Millie and Preston’s mother, the dowager duchess of Middleton, for a late Christmas celebration. It was a lovely sentiment, but Diana had dreaded the holiday without her parents. Spending Christmas at Buckrose Castle with so much distraction had been a relief.
Jacques wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Immediately warmth filled her as it only did from his touch. “What is wrong, my love?”
“Nothing.” The lie was for the best.
Jacques walked her to a stone bench and knelt down in front of her. “What, Diana? What is it you want that brings such sadness?”
Tears filled her eyes, but she met his gaze. Even the smallest untruths hurt when they were told to him. “There is something I want, but you will think it stupid.”
“I would give you anything. Tell me.”
Drawing a deep breath, she brushed the first flake of the coming storm from her lashes. “I want to bury my parents. I know it’s silly, we have no bodies, but I hate that there is no marker, no ceremony, no one to mourn.”
He sat on the bench next to her and took both her hands in his. “It is not silly. I should have realized.” He shook his head, sorrow filling his dark eyes. “Shall we go to Scotland, or is there someplace else you wish to hold the ceremony?”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “I should be looking forward, but I can’t let them go with nothing.”
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her cheek. “Oh, my sweet Diana, I have never been under some delusion that you were without a past. Not even when I was fortunate enough to find you on the road to London were you uncomplicated. The fact that you want to give peace to your parents just makes me love you more.”
The snow came down harder and a chill ran up Diana’s spine. She leaned closer to Jacques’s warmth. “You are the most indulgent husband.”
“I have a brilliant wife. She is far wiser and much smarter than I. It would be foolish to hold her back. Besides, I have promised to make you happy, and I always keep my promises.” He rubbed the cold out of her back.
Preston stepped out on the veranda. “You two are going to freeze to death. Come inside. Cook has made a sumptuous meal.”
Ignoring his friend, Jacques cupped her cheeks. “Do you want me to tell them you have gone to bed? I can bring you a plate if you wish.”
He was everything good, and part of her still didn’t believe she deserved him. “I have a family again. You gave that to me. Let’s go have Christmas dinner, then later you can take me to bed and make me forget my worries.”
He frowned. “I am happy to distract you, my love, but there is nothing wrong with talking through your troubles. I will not love you any less. You are my world.”
The way he always knew her heart was wonderful. “Thank goodness.”
Snow continued to come down. Preston had given up and gone back in the house. “Shall we go in?”
Arm in arm, they trudged through the snow and up the steps. Diana breathed in the cold air. “Perhaps we should wait for spring to head north.”
He patted her hand. “It would certainly be an easier trip.”
Heart lighter at knowing her parents would not be forgotten, she walked through the door held open by a footman. She handed over her outerwear and headed down the hall to the dining room.
Jacques pulled her into the room Millie used for writing letters and greeting callers. It was a small parlor with a desk and sitting area. It faced the garden and the light filtered through high windows. “Tell me you are all right?” He kissed her.
Breathless from his lips, she held him close. “I am. It was just the worry of bringing up the past.”
“You should always tell me what you need without fear, Diana. I will never deny you.” He tucked the hairs that had come loose from her bun back behind her ear.
“Like a knight in shining armor, you continue to rescue me.” She wrapped her arms around him and drank in his warmth until she was drunk on all things Jacques. This was all she would ever need.
Meet the Author
A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. Multi-published in erotic paranormal, erotic contemporary, Regency historical romance and historical paranormal romance, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of romance for many years to come. A.S. loves to hear from her readers. Be sure to write visit her website at asfenichel.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.
A Lady’s Escape
The perfect match may be closer than they imagine . . .
Despite her disastrous London debut, Millicent Edgebrook has proven skilled at securing matches—for every young lady but herself. Resigned to spinsterhood, and eager to gain independence from her lovable but eccentric uncle, Millie joins the Everton Domestic Society. Her first assignment: find a bride for Preston Knowles, Duke of Middleton. How difficult can it be to secure a match for a handsome, eligible aristocrat? As difficult, it seems, as resisting her own attraction to the duke . . .
Preston has promised himself not to be ruined by love. After being rebuffed by two perfectly respectable candidates, he’d rather remain happily single for the rest of his life...if only his mothe
r would let him. Yet suddenly, he’s fantasizing about the lovely matchmaker she’s hired—the least suitable bride imaginable. Millie’s past is shrouded in scandal, and the Everton Society forbids relations between employees and clients. But even with so many obstacles against them, Preston longs to convince the woman he adores that love trumps rules every time . . .
Chapter 1
Everton House was not grand by any standards, but it was formidable. Standing at the bottom of the stoop, Millicent Edgebrook was nervous for the first time in a long time. If Lady Jane rejected her, she’d be right back where she started with no options but to spend the rest of her life being blown up, smoked out and poisoned by every manner of stench. No. This had to work. It was the first step in her plan for independence, so Millie strode up the steps and knocked.
Mrs. Doris Whimple, Millie’s hired companion and lady’s maid, fidgeted next to her.
“What are you nervous about?” Millie asked.
“I have heard that Lady Jane Everton is terrifying. Mary McGinty told me that just a look from Jane Everton has sent more than one woman crying from the room.” Mrs. Whimple shivered.
“I’m certain that is an exaggeration. Be calm. Besides, she is interviewing me, not you.” Despite her brave words, a knot formed in the pit of Millie’s stomach.
The door opened, revealing an ancient butler with tufts of white hair poking out from his head. “How may I help you?”
Millie handed over her card.
“Miss Edgebrook, please come in. My lady is expecting you.” He opened the door wide and stepped aside, allowing them into the foyer.
Aside from a large vase of flowers adorning a round entry table, the hall was mostly wood and gave a masculine feel.
“I am Gray,” the butler intoned. “Your companion may wait here. Lady Jane will see you alone.”
Mrs. Whimple stiffened.
“It’s all right, Doris. I’ll be fine.” Millie sounded braver than she felt. Her stomach was in knots, and her palms began to sweat as she followed Gray down a narrow corridor next to the stairs.
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