A Seductive Lady Rescued From Flames (Historical Regency Romance)

by Emily Honeyfield

  Ernest dug his head deeper into his pillow. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “I suppose we have the rest of our lives to hide away,” Diana added.

  They dressed in separate rooms. Ernest dug his arms into yet another suit, beaming at himself in the mirror. For whatever reason, being able to see himself as Diana’s husband had elevated his personal opinion of himself. He no longer saw a man caught between two decisions, heartbroken from the death of his father. He saw a man alive with hope and promise.

  The garden party had been arranged with spectacular design: long tables stretched down the rose garden, covered with white tablecloths. A small orchestra sat in the corner, their bows winding over the strings.

  Already, Diana had been seated at the head table. Ernest strode toward her, mesmerized by yet another dress: a golden one that dipped low over her breasts, cut tight at her waist, and then filled out wildly to create a bell shape. Diana rose as her husband approached. They’d been apart for only a few hours, and yet it seemed now that it had been too long. Ernest wanted to ask her all the thoughts she’d had since they’d parted. What had she gone through? What had she said?

  Once at the table, Lord Harrington stood slowly from his chair, further down. He brought his fork to the side of his champagne glass, clacking it tenderly. The rush of conversation calmed around them. Ernest gripped Diana’s hand as Lord Harrington began his speech.

  “As many of you know, this was never a guarantee,” he began. “But from the moment I met Lord Ernest Bannerman, I told myself that if he couldn’t marry my daughter, I wanted someone incredibly similar to him.

  “Perhaps it’s widely known, now, how it was we came to know Ernest Bannerman. Months ago, our estate caught fire. As you can imagine, it was quite devastating for us, watching it burn. My daughter is quite a wild woman. And when she learned that the maid—the very one who’d raised her—was still caught within the house, she didn’t wait a single moment. She rushed back through those doors. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Of course, due to my current state, I couldn’t go in after her. When the maid appeared without Diana, I thought we’d lost her…”

  Here, Lord Harrington paused. He seemed unable to fully articulate the chaos in his heart. His eyes burned toward Ernest’s. “I cannot thank you enough for bringing my daughter back to me, Ernest. And I can think of no one else in the world more worthy of her. She’s my life. And I’m willing to share her with you.”

  Ernest tried to give Lord Harrington his most serene, most honest smile. The crowd burst into applause. Then, they lifted their champagne glasses toward Ernest and Diana. Everyone drank heartily.

  After dinner, the orchestra continued to play. Several of the tables were moved to the side to allow for dancing. Ernest flickered his eyes toward Diana, who wore an expression he felt was difficult to read.

  “What is it, darling?” he murmured.

  Diana gave him a small shrug. “It’s just that… I’m entirely…”

  “Tell me. You can tell me anything.”

  “I’m just tired of these parties, is all,” Diana whispered, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. “I don’t want to be the guest of honour for anything or anyone. I want only to… to be with you. Beneath the moon and the stars.”

  This allowed an idea to form in the belly of Ernest’s mind. He glanced around at the party—the one held for them, to honour their love. And he couldn’t help but completely agree with his new wife.

  Suddenly, he ripped up from his chair, tugging her along with him. She giggled, her face both confused and thrilled. Without another word, he drew her toward the exit of the garden, where their feet found the stone path. It drew them out, out, out, past the furthest garden and toward the moor and then the line of trees.

  Soon, their walk turned to a run. They hustled into the trees, casting their eyes skyward to watch the stars glitter down from the dark black. Their laughter rang out, sounding childlike and free. And when they reached a clearing, Ernest pressed Diana against the nearest tree, breathless and grinning wildly.

  “You’re all the more beautiful out here in the woods,” he told her, drawing his lips over hers. They were soft, tender, sweet, and hers responded as his kisses grew more severe, earnest. Soon, they fell onto the soft grass of the clearing, his body overtaking hers. With a sweep of his hand, he freed her breasts from their bondage, causing them to spill and bounce into his hands. His fingers traced the hard nubs of her nipples. She cooed, moaning, as his lips found her nipples, his tongue made tiny circles.

  The moon rushed out from behind the clouds, capturing them in its glow. Diana’s fingers unlatched his belt, pushing his pants toward his ankles. His cock burst from his underclothes, gliding along the softness of her thigh. In moments, he entered her, filling her and drawing his chest over hers. His eyes held onto hers. She didn’t look away.

  They made love tenderly, eagerly, and then wildly, their bodies understanding what the other needed without question or pause. They felt freer with one another than they ever had. As husband and wife in the great woods beyond the Bannerman estate, they were nothing more than creatures who needed nothing more than this.

  Diana gasped as she crested, arching her back beneath him. Ernest felt he might come too soon, such was the passion in her face and voice as she cried his name. But he held back, slowing, drawing his cock back and then thrusting forward to the hilt. The juncture between her legs was soft, pink, aching with want for him. He didn’t want to separate from her.

  When Ernest finally felt himself crest, his thoughts dove into the back arena of his mind. His lips parted as he thrust a final time. He dropped his head into the soft skin between her shoulder and neck. Slowly, he breathed in, wondering if he could ever fully return to the world after feeling such a mighty emotion.

  But their laughter returned only moments later. Ernest tossed himself to the side, laying on his back beside his young wife. Their hands gripped one another as they gazed once more at the moon and sky and stars. Their breathing was ragged, but it gradually slowed. They filled their lungs and returned to nearly-normal thought.

  “You know. I wonder if we’ll ever make love indoors?” Ernest remarked, chuckling. “It seems that that’s something normal people do. Perhaps we should try it before we make it a habit of living like wild animals.”

  Diana giggled. “Are you suggesting that we should become more like normal people?”

  Ernest pondered this. “I’m not sure it’s in our nature to ever do such a thing.”

  Diana flipped onto her side, leaning her head against her hand. With her other finger, she traced the coarse black hairs on his chest. “To be honest with you, Ernest, I want nothing more than to be out of doors with you. Making love on the grass like this? It reminds me of what it used to feel, being out in the wild as a child. It allows me to return to that past self. That self before… before Margery passed away.”

  Ernest’s heart felt squeezed. He dropped his head and kissed her softly. He felt overwhelmed, wanting to tell her just how much her love had added to his life.

  “I thought a great deal about my father the past few days,” he whispered.

  “I assumed you would,” Diana replied.

  “Yes. I feel he was with me throughout every step of the ceremony. In some respects, I feel him here, now. I feel that every decision I made, regarding you, this marriage, honours his spirit in a far more remarkable and pure way than I could have, in marrying Grace.”

  Diana shivered.

  “I’m sorry for bringing her up again,” Ernest said, his smile widening.

  “No, no. It’s really not such an issue,” Diana assured him. She seemed embarrassed to have reacted in such a way. “It’s only that seeing her that day at the market made me realize what a horrendous life you might have had. I’m terribly grateful that you avoided it.”

  “My father would want me to be happy,” Ernest continued. “He would want me to wake up every morning to the love of my life. And Diana, th
at’s you. I knew no love bigger than this. Every single moment since I found you in that fire, I’ve known you were the answer. I’m just so happy that we’ve been allowed this life. I’m so happy that we’re here together now—naked beneath the stars.”

  The newly-married couple kissed once more. They cuddled close together for another few minutes, until Diana suggested that they return to the party—since they’d been gone a good 45 minutes, and surely someone would have noticed. Ernest teased her about “caring” what other people thought. But Diana just rolled her eyes, saying that she didn’t care for anyone except her father, her aunt, and Rose, of course.

  “You know that Rose has probably transitioned the party into one celebrating her,” Diana offered, laughing. “She has these tricks up her sleeve. I never truly know what she’ll do next.”

  “I suppose we have the rest of our lives to find out,” Ernest said.

  They walked hand-in-hand, easing back toward the party. The swell of string instruments glided over the moors, bouncing against the tree trunks. And when they returned, Diana slipped her hand onto Ernest’s shoulder as they eased alongside their family members and friends, dancing until midnight. The moon didn’t abandon them. Instead, it continued to glow—an old friend, one that would overlook everything, as they embarked on their marriage, on building their lives and their children and their newfound happiness.

  “I told you it would all work out,” Rose whispered to Ernest as she glided past them, her eyes burning with delight.

  “You always have to be right,” Ernest returned.

  But she just winked at them both, dancing back toward the drink table. Diana and Ernest remained locked in one another’s arms. Home was, and would always be, right here.

  THE END

  Can't get enough of Diana and Ernest? Then make sure to check out the Extended Epilogue to find out…

  Why will Rose have doubts about marrying Isaac Wilmington even though she is desperately in love with him?

  Will the flame in Diana and Ernest’s relationship be alive after five years of marriage?

  How will Ernest feel when he finds out that his sister is in love with a clergyman?

  Click the link or enter it into your browser

  http://emilyhoneyfield.com/diana

  (After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters from “The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)

  The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask

  Introduction

  Tempest Haddington is a woman who thrives to be independent. Not caring much about marriage, she focuses her efforts on secretly running a gaming parlour. When she helps her friend break off her engagement to the libertine Hudson, she thinks she’s doing the right thing. Unfortunately, her scheme does not go unnoticed and he wants payback...in the form of a marriage between them! When her mask is off, will Tempest succumb to the handsome man, or will her stubbornness cost her a true romance?

  Hudson is desperate to get married ever since his aunt expressed her desire to see him wed before dying. Valerie might not be his first choice, but it seems like it’s the only solution. Unfortunately, he is set up at a secret gaming parlour and the engagement is broken. When he discovers that the mastermind behind all this is his stunning childhood friend, he will choose a wicked way to take his revenge. When sparks start flying between them, how will he convince her that he has a burning desire for her, one that he’s never felt before?

  A passionate tale of intrigue, suspense, and twists that will leave you gasping for more. When their initial flame turns to full-fletched fire, will they be able to handle it despite the forces that try to keep them apart?

  Chapter 1

  London, 1816

  The sun was filtering through the silk curtains when Tempest finally stirred from her bed. A delicate hand went to her throbbing forehead. She let out a sigh. She shouldn’t drink spirits so. Alas, she had allowed her customer to cajole her into drinking a lot of wine last night.

  But what could she have done to avert it? It would have looked suspicious had she not indulged in the wine like every customer there. But maybe she shouldn’t have drunk so much. Well, it was too late now. In the future, she would look for a way to get out of such a foolish pastime.

  Groping for the little bell on the bedside table to summon her abigail, she groaned as she had to move. The dreadful headache would cause her head to fall off if nothing was done about it posthaste.

  A little sigh of joy escaped her lips when her hand located the bell. She rang it and grimaced as the sound increased the ache in her head. A moment later, she heard distinctive footfalls coming up the stairs and crossing the landing to her room.

  “You summoned me, Miss Tempest,” Mary, her maid, said.

  From the distance of her voice, Tempest surmised that she was standing by the door. She dared not open her eyes for she feared the headache might grow worse.

  “I did, Mary,” she softly returned. “Whatever you do, don’t draw the curtains.”

  A soft giggle sounded in the room. “Forgive my boldness, Miss Tempest, but you can’t possibly think of staying abed all day.”

  Tempest groaned in an unladylike manner. Her father would want to see her. He would try to get her to go against her wishes. Giving her dowry to a lucky man out there so that it wouldn’t go to waste was her father’s primal concern.

  The baron’s daughter listened as Mary moved about the room. Her purple silk dress would still be on the floor. That was the only piece of clothing she had removed before falling into bed last night. She sighed loudly.

  “Please leave whatever you’re doing, Mary and fetch me a cold compress for my head before it splits into two,” she instructed sharply.

  “Yes, my Miss. Mayhap I could bring you a tray.”

  Tempest shook her head and moaned. The thought of food was nauseating. Perhaps later, when she was feeling better.

  “Cold compress, Mary,” she simply said.

  “Yes, Miss Tempest.”

  She heard Mary leave to do her bidding and hoped with all her heart that the cold compress would bring her head back to normalcy.

  Tempest moaned some minutes when the front doorknocker banged repeatedly. The silence in the house was loud enough for her to hear the motions of the discourteous caller. The sound seemed to increase and fill the house, making her feel like she was standing right beside the door.

  “Dear God, who could be calling at this ungodly hour?” she grumbled, assuming it was still quite early in the day, not realising that the sun was already high up in the sky.

  When the noise carried on, she lifted one of the pillows and placed it across her head. Were all the servants excluding Mary still in bed like her? Why couldn’t someone answer the desperate caller?

  The torture of the sound finally came to an end when someone decided to get her out of her misery. The front door slammed loudly.

  “Who could be so rude as to shut the door so loudly to someone else’s house?” she muttered with indignation.

  It wasn’t enough that they knocked so deafeningly to wake the dead, now they wanted to rip the door off its hinges!

  She tried making out the voices she heard but decided not to bother. It could be one of her father’s friends. She wouldn’t be surprised if the person was foxed.

  Some men didn’t mind visiting a tavern before going about their duties for the day. She surmised that she would be one of the topics of discussion between the man and her father.

  The baron was annoyed with her because she maintained her stand that she wasn’t the marrying kind.

  “You’ll remain on the shelf and be regarded as an old maid,” her father once argued with her.

  She had giggled, for her cousin, Valerie, already called her that. “Better to remain an old maid, Papa, than to lose my independence to some dandy.”