“What is it?” Millie asked eagerly.
“Close your eyes and picture an empty room,” Anne instructed.
Millie promptly closed her eyes. “Alright.”
“Now I want you to picture the people who love you. Your father, Lady Gen, your aunts, uncles, cousins, and me. How full is that room?”
Millie laughed. “It’s getting rather crowded.”
“You can open your eyes now,” Anne replied. When her gaze met Millie’s she said, “Whenever someone tries to tear you down, remember all of the people who love you. Don’t let someone’s opinion, who doesn’t matter, have more credence than those who truly know you and adore you.”
Millie impulsively wrapped her arms around Anne. “Thank you. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way. Is that what you do when things are difficult?”
Anne looked surprised for a moment, and then she laughed. “You know, perhaps I should start taking my own advice.”
Chapter 12
Ian had opened the infernal letter once again trying to find any clues as to who might have sent it. The handwriting wasn’t familiar, and it seemed to be thick parchment, obviously someone who had the funds to pay for such frivolities. That wasn’t in keeping with the theory of Mrs. Fitzgerald unless she happened to steal some from Lady Gen before being dismissed.
“What does it say?” Lady Gen’s asked quietly.
Ian glanced at her. Lady Gen noted that there were lines of worry between his brows and his mouth was pulled taunt. His fist tightened, but he kept his tone light, “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Lady Genevieve shook her head. “That bad? I am worried, Ian, and I don’t mind telling you. We have never had anything like this happen before. I shall feel much better when you’ve gotten to the bottom of this.”
Ian tapped his gloved finger against his chin. “There has to be some logical explanation. I just don’t know what it could be. How does one threaten a child? It’s repulsive.”
Lady Genevieve gave him a look of horror. “Ian Stanford, I must insist you tell me what was in that letter.”
Ian sighed and handed the letter over to Lady Gen. Opening it she read the entirety of its contents before returning it back to him.
You can dress up a bastard in fancy clothes, but you will always be a bastard. Go back to the gutter where you belong.
“What vile nonsense!” Lady Gen said angrily. “If this is the Fitzgerald woman, she will regret the day she ever penned that letter.”
“I am ready when you are,” Anne said from the doorway.
In her bright blue cloak and matching muff, Anne was as pretty as a painting. Ian couldn’t help but feel that there was just something about her that made him want to take care of her. She was someone that he could really fall for.
“I will be with you in just a moment,” he blurted out. “You look lovely.”
Both ladies dropped their jaws.
“You are likely to catch flies that way, Lady Gen,” Ian said with a grin as he walked out of the room.
“Did Ian Stanford just compliment me?” Anne asked in a choked voice.
Lady Gen burst out laughing. “If I hadn't been here to hear it, I don’t know if I would have believed it.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything,” Anne added quickly.
Lady Gen’s eyes danced merrily. “No, I am sure it doesn’t. Unless perhaps we’re wrong.”
Anne sucked in a breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
But try as she might, Anne couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. Once her gaze met Lady Gen’s they both started laughing again.
“Is everything alright?” Ian asked when he came back with his cloak on.
“Indeed,” Lady Gen replied, wiping at her eyes. “Things are just as they should be.”
Anne took the letter from Ian’s outstretched hand. Straightening the page, she read the short message. Revulsion rolled through her. Not even wanting to hold it any longer than was necessary, Anne passed the letting back to Ian.
“Only a coward handles their problems in such a fashion,” she said in a muffled voice.
Ian tucked the note back into his coat. “I am afraid we don’t have much to go on. The magistrate promised to send two men to watch the townhouse morning and night.”
“I am still confused on how the agency lost all contact with Mrs. Fitzgerald. It seems a little fishy to me,” Anne added.
Ian nodded. “I agree. Something isn’t adding up there. The man who ran the agency was quick to rush us off.”
“Mr. Brown? Yes, he was rather unsavory. Wasn’t he?” Anne agreed.
Ian couldn’t help but marvel at the way Anne had handled the events of the day. She had been a true helpmate to him.
“Ian?” Anne’s eyes searched him inquiringly.
Rather than respond, Ian took Anne into his arms and kissed her.
Anne had never been held by a man before, let alone been kissed by one. She almost pulled away out of fear that she would embarrass herself.
But the feel of Ian’s lips on hers was amazing that Anne could no sooner move away than she could fly to the moon.
Sensations raced through her body as if she were on fire. His warm hands had pulled her against his firm chest. His lips were surprisingly soft and yet insistent.
Ian pulled back for an instant to whisper, “Sweet Anne.”
However, before she could even force her brain to come up with a response, he was kissing her again. Anne was lost in the tenderness of his touch. The gentle kiss was the perfect foil for his strong arms.
He held her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. Anne had known a life of loneliness. But in this moment, she felt like she was the center of his world.
It was every bit as tender and innocent as a first kiss should be. And it lasted all of a few moments. She pulled back, flushing—proud of how brave she had been.
Ian’s firm lips twisted into a smile. “Have I shocked you?”
Anne frowned. “Not in the slightest.”
She could have no idea how sweet she looked with her cheeks tinged pink and her lips swollen from his kiss.
He laughed. “I certainly surprised myself.”
Anne’s lips twitched and she wriggled to get out of his embrace.
Ian tightened his hold. “I don’t think so. I’m not finished with you yet.”
His lips once again descended, but this time there was no hesitation. He captured her mouth with his, pulling her tight against his muscled frame.
There was intent and purpose in his movements. He lightly licked her bottom lip, startling Anne into opening her mouth. It was then that everything she had thought she had known about kissing went out the carriage window.
His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue gently entered her mouth. And Anne met him shyly with her own.
Ian had kissed his fair share of women—well, perhaps more than his fair share.
But nothing in his sordid history could compare to this small girl who was well on her way to stealing his heart.
Anne moaned, tightening her grasp on his arms. Ian couldn’t have held himself back even if he had wanted to.
The innocent kiss quickly took on a more sophisticated air as he plundered her lips. Anne was more than up for the task and bravely met him, sally for sally.
Her nipples tightened as her lower belly burned with something she wasn’t familiar with.
Her hands slid up into his dark hair, loosening the queue that held his strands back.
At that very moment, the carriage halted, and Ian reluctantly raised his head. “Looks like we are home.”
It was said in innocence. But the moment Ian said the words he knew that he wanted to take Anne home with him. He didn’t want to leave her behind when the Christmas holidays were over. As much as he didn’t deserve her, he was falling in love with her.
Now he only had to convince her to fall in love with him.
Chapter 13
The nightmares t
hat had plagued Millie since early childhood soon returned. The first night after the note had been delivered, she awakened with her body coated with sweat, and her throat sore from her cries.
She had hoped that no one had been disturbed, and indeed nothing was said to her the following day. But the next night, she was awakened by her father gently shaking her.
“Millie, dearest, it is only a dream,” his calm voice penetrating the terror that she felt was consuming her.
“It seemed so real,” her teeth were chattering despite the dampness from perspiration along her hairline or perhaps because of it.
He pushed her dark hair back and couldn’t help but feel that she looked so terribly young. It angered him even more that someone would try and hurt his daughter.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked gently.
Millie shook her head, clutching his loose nightshirt in her hands. At that moment, the door opened, and Anne rushed in. She hadn’t even grabbed her dressing gown. Clad only in her nightdress, Anne raced to Millie’s side.
“Dearest child, I heard your cries.”
To Ian's surprise, Millie threw herself into Anne’s arms and began to cry.
“There, there, darling. Don’t cry, I’m here now.”
Anne was a natural mother. Perhaps it was female intuition or perhaps it was the genuine love that Anne had for his daughter. But if Ian had harbored any reservations before, they were completely smashed at this moment. Anne was meant to be a part of their family.
Ian wasn’t sure how or why, but he knew that Vivian would approve of Anne being in Millie’s life. One couldn’t see the two of them together and not feel the love they had for one another.
After some time rocking her back and forth, Millie eventually fell back asleep. Ian and Anne tucked her back into bed and then moved into the hallway to speak.
It was only then that Anne realized that Ian was indeed standing next to her in his bed clothing.
A delicate flush spreading across her high cheekbones. Looking anywhere but at him, she stammered, “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just heard her cries and had to come.”
Ian’s brow furrowed. “Did you have nightmares as a child?”
Anne ducked her head. “Yes.”
“Who came to make sure you were alright?” Ian asked, tipping her head up with his thumb underneath her chin.
“Eliza,” Anne replied with a smile. “She was my nurse, but she was truly more than that.”
“Does she still reside at Starcrest?” Ian asked.
Anne shook her head. “No, she almost died alone after spending her entire life caring for me. I learned that she was ill during my last season in London.”
“I am so terribly sorry,” Ian’s voice was soothing as he replied. “I’m sure she knew how much you cared for her.”
Anne’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss her more than I can say. She was the only mother I ever knew. When she passed, I felt like I was abandoned in this world. It was a very dark time.”
Ian took her hand and pulled Anne into her bedroom. There he wrapped her in his arms. “You have many secrets, Lady Anne. But the biggest one is that you have such a pure heart. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you.”
Anne pressed her face into his dressing gown, but she didn’t speak. It wasn’t lost on her how comforting it felt to be in his arms. Ian lifted Anne and settled her on the bed. She stared back at him with wide eyes.
Anne couldn’t help but feel that Ian was eminently more approachable with his thick dark hair loose about his shoulders. There was a fine layer of dark whiskers decorating his jaw, and she longed to reach up and see if they were soft or prickly.
He smiled suddenly, and it warmed her to the tips of her toes.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked, his gray eyes observing her.
Anne dipped her head into her arms, “My thoughts are not of import.”
She squealed when he sat beside her on the bed.
“I will always find your thoughts riveting,” he tucked a honey-colored curl behind her ear.
“You should not be so kind to me, Ian,” she replied.
“Why?” He replied.
“You’re dangerous. Do you know that?” she said shakily.
Chapter 14
“I have a notion that you haven’t had enough kindness in your life, Anne.” He was so close that his breath hit her cheek.
Anne couldn’t think with him so close, and yet she felt safest in his arms. He was so much larger than she was, his body was hard where hers was soft. Unthinkingly she reached up to caress his cheek and smiled when the whiskers prickled.
“Dear heaven above,” Ian whispered against her ear. “You quite make me want to forget all of the proprieties.”
Her hand still cradled his cheek, and he turned to kiss her palm.
“You never told me what you were thinking about?” his eyes searching hers.
Ian knew that he was in deep water. This innocent enchantress had no idea of the sexual frenzy she was raising in his body. He plucked her up and placed her in his lap.
The curve of her bottom rested against his enlarging member. Her soft breasts could be easily felt through her thin garment, but most disturbing was the absolute trust he saw in her eyes.
He wanted to tell her that it was misguided. He was not a hero. In truth he was having thoughts of ravishing her right here and now. But every good intention flew out the window when she gave her one-word response.
“You,” her eyes never leaving him. “I am thinking about you.”
His lips came down upon hers, tasting their sweetness and innocence with a hint of the siren that she had become to him.
He groaned at the sheer beauty it was to hold this precious woman in his arms. He wanted to go slowly, teach her the ways of lovemaking, and to mark her as his own.
She would be his, he vowed, there was no other option, for his heart was irrevocably lost. Anne held his happiness in her hands and had no idea that she possessed the power to destroy his world.
Slanting his lips over hers, Ian gently pushed her back on the bed so that they were lying beside one another. He didn’t break the kiss but licked her lips urging her to part for him.
Anne had so many emotions flying around her. His lips were firm and insistent upon her own. His muscular body, radiating heat with something dark and dangerous that she desperately wanted to explore.
She couldn’t help but recall the day she opened her eyes to see him in the throes of passion. His hand stroking his massive cock. His face as his pleasure was upon him. Anne felt the telltale signs of desire as her breasts tightened.
It was true that she hadn’t much knowledge of what happened between a man and a woman. But she did know her body. Never before had she felt as if her skin were on fire. Never before had she wanted to rip the clothes from another person. She desperately wanted to touch Ian, to see what his chest looked like.
His hands began inching her nightdress upward, and she whimpered in agreement. It was too hot in his chambers. Her skin was on fire.
She wanted to touch him. She tugged at his dressing gown.
His muffled laughter brought her eyes to his gray ones. They had darkened imperceptibly.
Stanford stood for a small moment and reaching behind him, he grabbed the collar of his garment and ripped it over his head.
Anne lay there with her own nightdress around her thighs, panting as she tried to commit every inch of him to her memory.
He was perfect. His chest was broad and scattered with dark hair that led down his muscular stomach. At the base of his hips, Anne followed the deep vee to see more black hair; in the center was his massive cock. He was thick and impossibly wide. The tip had a mushroom-like head. Only this time he wasn’t touching it.
Unconsciously, she licked her lower lip. Anne didn’t know what to say to bring him back to the bed. In a moment of madness, she grabbed her own nightdress and pulled it over her head.
Ian felt the air leave his chest.
For someone as jaded as he was, the vision in front of him knocked him to his knees.
“You are stunning,” he breathed and then reached for her, knowing that this was a choice. There was no coming back from what they were about to do.
She may not realize the implications of their actions, but he did.
In a flash, he was beside her and then she was under him.
The nipples on her breasts abrading his chest, and his cock resting just above the heated juncture of her thighs.
Anne wound her arms around his neck. Loving when he moaned and dipped his head low for another kiss.
“Ian,” she breathed against his lips, and he was lost.
Chapter 15
Anne could feel the power radiating from his muscular frame as he kissed her ruthlessly. Gone were the sweet touches that had started this little game, and in its stead was a raging inferno that she prayed would never burn out.
Her hands were everywhere. She wanted to touch every hard inch of him. She felt the muscles clenching beneath her fingers and loved that he was as much affected by her as she was by him.
He was holding himself above her, careful not to smash her with his weight. But she longed for it, wanted to feel every inch of his skin against her own.
He was kissing her jaw, running his nose along the shell of her ear and then nipping at her neck. Anne thought she would go crazy with want.
“Touch me, please!” She hadn’t even realized that she had vocalized the cry until he looked up at her and smiled darkly.
“Where?” He asked. His eyes told her that he knew precisely where she wanted his touch.
Anne flushed, but the passion in her wanted relief, and without skipping a beat she took his hand and covered her breast.
They moaned simultaneously.
“Your shyness is such a bloody turn-on,” he growled. “But then there is nothing about you that isn’t appealing to me.”
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 92