Molly stood with the whiskey bottle in hand, and bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from blurting out the questions she had.
“Get her out of that piece of filth and burn it,” the master said gruffly, indicating the soiled dress. “There is a nightgown in my wardrobe. Put her in that until new clothes can be ordered from London. Fetch me when she wakes.”
He plucked the whiskey bottle out of Molly’s hand and slammed out of the room.
Oh dear, thought Molly. He’s taking to the drink again....
§
CRISPIN STOOD in the doorway of Hawkcliffe Hall staring out to sea. His broad frame blocked the newly emerging sun and threw a shadow on the floor behind him. High, brisk winds had blown the gray clouds out to sea, leaving sunshine and the scent of summer in its wake. The earth had turned to dark loam and rain-washed pastures glittered with green brilliance. Morning was breaking over the land, bringing with it a frightening stillness.
The fog of last night’s drinking had cleared his brain and fear came crashing in.
Fawn had not regained consciousness. The doctor was with her. He had been with her half the night. Did Crispin make a mistake in taking her from London? Instinct had driven him to book a compartment on the train bound for Stokesbay, confident that Fawn would improve if she saw Hawkcliffe Hall again.
He refused to believe it had all been for nothing—that he had found her against all odds and Fawn had survived that hellish place. That must mean something! They did not come all this way to have happiness plucked out of their hands in the last hour.
He might be free from prison bars, Crispin thought savagely as he paced the length of the room, but he was not a free man and he never would be again if Fawn died.
And he only had himself to blame. The things he had said to her—the cruelty he’d inflicted on her. In his heart he wanted to kill Jameson and Laleham, but this was his doing. He had trusted vipers to keep her safe. Fawn would have come to him for help if she thought she could. Everyone had turned against her—including him. That was the worst of his pain.
Thinking about her had been his only source of comfort these past months, compelling him to endure beatings, hunger and the contempt of his former friends for her sake. To be a better man than the one he was.
Crispin ducked his dark unruly head in shame remembering his past behavior. Maybe this was his true punishment. Not prison bars or a hangman’s noose. Fawn would die and he would be condemned to wander this earth alone.
The sea glinted on the horizon, getting brighter and brighter as the sun rose. Mysteriously, his courage rose with it. Though he knew he might fail, he would persevere for her sake. Regardless of the outcome, if she lived or died, Crispin vowed to be a better man henceforth.
A deadly weight lifted off his shoulders and he almost laughed out loud. They would love each other one way or another. Death was just another door between them. He found the key once before to reach her. He’d find it again.
§
SOMEONE was tugging at her bodice.
Panicked, Fawn struggled to sit up but her limbs were as heavy as lead. A voice, deep and masculine ordered her to lay still.
She thrashed frantically at the groping hands, believing herself to be back in the workhouse, pushing them away with all her strength.
“It’s all right, Fawn,” the voice said urgently. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you.”
Fawn’s eyes fluttered open and she focused on Crispin Wolfe’s face. He pressed a cold compress to her head and loosened the collar of her bodice. He was examining her with a concerned intensity that warmed her blood and brought a smile to her lips.
“It is you,” she whispered gratefully.
“It is I,” he murmured with a wry grin, but his face was bathed in relief. “You are at Hawkcliffe Hall.”
Wincing, Fawn pushed up on one elbow and pressed a hand to her throbbing head. She was stretched out on Crispin’s large four poster bed and she frowned, groping her memory.
“We were in London. You found me at the Whitechapel Workhouse. I don’t remember what happened after that.”
“You fell ill with fever and fainted. Matron called in two orderlies to carry you to the sick ward and I had a hell of a fight to get you out of there.” Crispin’s eyes darkened at the memory. “I bundled you in a carriage and brought you to my private physician. He said I got to you just in time. We came close to losing you, Fawn. Too close.”
She couldn’t think—didn’t know what to think. Fawn could only listen to his deep, resonant voice and marvel that it was really Crispin Wolfe who was at her bedside.
“When you were stable enough to travel, I brought you to Hawkcliffe Hall. The sea air will help your recovery.”
“You said I would never return to Hawkcliffe.” She attempted a smile.
“I said many things that I wish I could take back. I’ve done many hurtful things trying to bend fate to my will and escape the consequences. For awhile it seemed that I had danced free of paying a penalty for my heartlessness. You loved me once and I was happier than I’ve ever been.”
“As was I.”
He stroked her cheek, feather-light, with the back of his hand. Feeling his touch again filled her with awe. She was not dead; she was at Hawkcliffe Hall, safe under his roof. It was too much to take in all at once. Heaviness and a gentle red fog clouded her mind.
“I love you, Fawn. I want to marry you, but I will not ask until you are fully recovered. I want you to say yes, but more importantly, I want you to have the freedom to say no.”
“You love me,” she repeated softly.
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks that Crispin could not interpret. Alarmed, he squeezed her hand. “You know I do! Stop this—you must live now! I love you to the core of my being. You are a part of me, wedged deep, that I cannot dislodge and I don’t want to. I love you, Fawn!”
He had never felt this nakedly vulnerable before, not even in battle with a knife-wielding enemy. Crispin wanted to bolt from the room, to slip on the old mask of callous authority and never know this moment of heart-stopping terror again.
Fawn turned her liquid green eyes to the window. The casement stood wide open, permitting the fresh sea air to blow freely within.
“I love you too, Crispin,” she murmured. “One day I may say yes to your proposal. Please forgive me if today is not that day. I need time.”
“Then you shall have it. Hawkcliffe Hall is your home for as long as you wish.”
Crispin knew what she was thinking. They were both wondering the same thing. Would he be strong enough to keep away from her door or would he pressure her to submit to him? Had he conquered his demons or were they laying in wait? Would his need to possess her smother what little love she had left for him?
“Will you stay with me?”
Her faith in him was humbling. Crispin cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes of burning tears. “Yes, of course.”
THE DOCTOR left clear instructions and even if Molly wasn’t a fountain of medical knowledge herself, Crispin had seen enough wounded on the battlefield to have a rudimentary grasp of nursing. At first he undertook Fawn’s care to satisfy the restless animal need he had to touch her, but as the weeks passed, something changed.
Nursing Fawn, feeding her, bathing her, reading to her and occasionally bossing her into behaving, ended with her full recovery and a miracle that Crispin did not expect. He found a love that was not possessive, a love that did not begin and end with sex.
He could trust himself with her now. Pure love had been forged out of illicit lust.
Fawn would be safe with him. Genuinely safe.
§
One Month Later
FAWN WANDERED down to the beach and walked in the direction of the cave. She had risen that morning to find Molly in her room and Crispin nowhere in sight.
“Where has he gone?” She tried to hide her alarm.
“The master has gone riding, miss. He’s not expected back until luncheon. Do
you feel up to leaving your room, miss? It is time I gave this chamber a good scrub down now that you’re well.”
Fawn dressed and after eating a hearty breakfast, she wandered the path to the beach and found herself pulled in the direction of the cave.
The weeks of illness had nearly broken her, and throughout it all, the one constant had been Crispin, pressing cool cloths to her brow, cajoling her into eating another spoonful of broth, reading for hours into the night when the pain would not let her sleep, and bullying her when she wanted to give up.
He had become dearer to her than ever, a thing Fawn had not thought possible. Just when she thought she’d reached the bottom of her love for him, another depth would open. Where would it end? What she felt for him was boundless.
Fawn remembered his proposal when she was dangerously ill and was beginning to get impatient for the second proposal, the one he had promised to make when she was sound in body and mind. Thus far, it had not come and she fretted that he might’ve changed his mind. He had changed in so many other ways since her return to Hawkcliffe. The torment she used to see in him had left his eyes—and she was glad about that—but she was also worried that the torment was his passion for her. That would be a cruel irony, she mused. Just as her passion for him was growing, his was diminishing.
The mouth of the cave yawned ahead. She saw Crispin’s horse tethered to a spar of rock and her heart pounded to her throat in a thrill of excitement. She hurried her steps.
He was standing just inside the entrance to the cave. The day was hot; Crispin had removed his jacket. It lay in a heap on the sandy floor. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he’d opened his collar and two buttons, revealing the bronze skin of his neck and chest.
He turned when he saw her, his dark blue eyes glittering in the dim cave.
Wordlessly, she went to him.
Crispin took her in his arms, his hands cradling her face and he kissed her. The moment their lips touched after so many months apart, they were fused together. Instantly, without a word, without a sound, passion sparked and roared to life.
Fawn’s trembling fingers worked the hooks on the bodice of her light summer gown. She wrenched her arms free of the sleeves while Crispin cupped her face, kissing her senseless.
There was no sound save the rushing of the tide. Everything they felt was in the kiss, in their frantic disrobing and at last, in the heated thrilling contact of their naked bodies.
Wolfe made a bed of sorts out of their clothing and drew her down under him. His mouth was feverish now, insatiable, covering every inch of her skin.
He lowered his face to the aching region between her thighs and parted the folds of sensitive flesh. Crispin’s tongue drew slowly between the slit.
Fawn’s back arched and she swooned in ecstasy. What happened after that, she didn’t know and didn’t care. His hands gripped her hips and his mouth was relentless.
Wolfe had not planned for this, had not intended to take her this way, but as soon as he saw her at the mouth of the cave, he lost every argument he had against kissing her.
She tasted so sweet! He tongued her sex rhythmically until he felt a change in her body. He didn’t look at her, but was wildly aroused by the arch of her back, her sobs of pleasure and at last her cry that rose above the pounding of the waves. Her sweet juices filled his mouth and he drank them down like a man dying of thirst.
She twisted her body to climb on top of him. Sliding down between his legs, Fawn took his erection in her mouth.
Wolfe nearly jumped out of his skin. He growled and clutched her hair as her lips and mouth carried him to incredible heights of pleasure. Oh sweet hell! The sight of Fawn’s pouting red lips around his thick rod was almost the undoing of him.
He quickly shifted positions, lying on his back on the cloak and pulled her on top him, guiding her to lie on her back stretched out over his body. Fawn made a noise expressing her confusion but Wolfe didn’t bother to explain. She would understand soon enough.
Her hard ass cheeks cradled his cock perfectly. Her firm full breasts filled his hands. Fawn rested her head back against his shoulder. Her arms lifted over her head and he felt her fingers tangling in his hair. She was like butterfly pinned to a board. In this position he could pleasure her as he penetrated her. It had been a long time. Crispin wanted to make she was ready to receive him.
Wolfe slid his fingers between the puffy folds of her vulva.
He thought of the years ahead, of making love to Fawn in every way imaginable. The pleasure he would introduce her to ... she was wet and ready, her vagina was soft and yielding. He eased her legs a little further apart and entered her, sliding easily into her warm welcoming core.
A strangled roar of pleasure escaped his lips. This was his home. This was where he belonged.
She made a sound Wolfe recognized. Between his fingering and his cock, he’d hit the target. He pressed his broad hand flat against her abdomen and felt the thick length of his cock moving inside of her. His fingers continued to rotate gently over the hard slick bud, as Crispin pumped in and out, relentlessly, like the tide crashing against the shore.
“Oh Crispin ... Crispin!” She moaned in a wild sob of release.
“I’m here, Fawn,” he said in a choked whisper as he exploded deep inside her body. “I’m here.”
He would never leave her again.
Epilogue
MOLLY ENTERED the room just before daybreak. Fawn had not improved. She was unwell to the point of bringing up her morning tea.
“Has Captain Wolfe not returned yet?” she asked the girl.
“Not yet, miss. I believe he is waiting for the doctor. He left word you are not to get out of bed today.”
Tears filled Fawn’s eyes. She couldn’t stop them from falling even though she had no reason to cry. Crispin had business in the village; that was hardly something to cry about.
“Now Miss Fawn, there, there. He’ll be back soon enough. You do take on so. If you want my frank opinion, I believe I know the reason for your low spirits.”
Molly crossed her arms over her bosom. “Could you be expecting your monthly? Forgive my blunt speech, but the monthly visit has been known to lay me flat for a day or two.”
Fawn would have laughed if she didn’t feel so unwell. “Oh Molly, I’m not blue for that reason. I just miss Captain Wolfe. That is all.”
“You talk as if you are in love him, miss.”
Crispin had taken care to hide their relationship from Molly to keep them from becoming the subject of village gossip. Fawn agreed with him at the time but it made certain conversations awkward.
She decided to confess the truth. After everything the girl had done for her, she could be trusted with Fawn’s confidences, and frankly, Fawn wanted to talk over the whole business with another woman.
“I don’t know what I feel,” Fawn sighed gloomily, thinking of the marriage proposal that still had not materialized. “I don’t understand what happens to me when he is near. I did not welcome his advances in the beginning.”
“But you do now?”
Fawn hung her head. Tears fell from her eyes. “I have done for a month now.”
Molly’s temper flared as red hot as her hair. “The wickedness of Captain Wolfe takes my very breath away! I thought he was finished with all that business! We shall get the law on him—a man taking advantage of his niece!”
“Molly—Molly—hush. I owe you an apology. Crispin Wolfe is not my uncle and he did not take advantage of me. I am in love with him and he is in love with me. He is a good man.”
Her blue eyes widened. “He was brother to your aunt! How is it he is not your uncle?”
“He was my aunt’s half-brother but my aunt was not a blood relation. She was the widow of my father’s brother. It’s complicated.”
The girl went white as a sheet. “Oh, Miss Fawn, I am sorry! I saw you together at the stables that day and I thought your uncle was taking advantage. It was me who told my young man, Constabl
e Martin, about the two of you that led to the captain’s arrest. It was my doing!”
Fawn sighed, grateful to have one mystery solved at least. She had wondered how the police found out so quickly about her and Crispin. Molly was the culprit.
“You only told them what you thought was the truth. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Then if he is not your uncle—” Molly broke off, a look of stunned enlightenment on her face.
“What?” Fawn asked, alarmed. “Molly, what is it?”
“There’s no blood between you and you are not Captain Wolfe’s niece by law.”
“No. I am sorry for the deception. It seemed easier than trying to explain our current living arrangement and putting you in an awkward position.”
Molly peered into her face, without seeming to be looking at her. The girl was examining Fawn with a clinical eye. “When was your last bleed?”
“I-I can’t remember. A month or more ago, I think. With the illness, I lost track.”
The girl straightened with a look of sisterly satisfaction on her face.
“You’re with child, miss. I know the look. I’ve seen it before on my mother’s face. I have five brothers and sisters. You can argue all you like, but I know the look. You’re going to have a baby, Miss Fawn.”
“What?”
Both women turned to see Wolfe standing in the doorway with the village doctor hovering behind him.
Fawn chewed her lower lip. Oh dear.
WOLFE WAS ushered out while the doctor performed his examination. Molly’s amateur prognosis proved to be correct.
Fawn was pregnant.
She could pinpoint the day it happened out of the many days and nights she had spent in his arms since he rescued her from Whitechapel.
The day they met in the cave ... their wordless lovemaking. That was the moment Crispin impregnated her. He had broken down his barriers to fully loving her, surrendering all he was and she had felt his love flow into her.
The Dark Regent Page 16