Blackhaven Brides (Books 5–8)

by Lancaster, Mary

  Without warning, the concern of the brother who had always looked after her, who had killed for her, brought a lump to her throat that she could not swallow.

  “A little,” she whispered. “But I shall come about.”

  He didn’t take her hand. She couldn’t have borne that much sympathy. Her time with Louis was almost ended and she felt she would die.

  “Shall we go back to the castle?” he said. “Lady Bella can come with us.”

  Anna pulled herself together. “No. Lady Bella and I shall wait here. You should go, though. Set Christianne’s mind at rest.” She smiled with difficulty. “And Serena’s. You are lucky to have her, Rupert.”

  “I know.” He stood, presenting his drawing to Arabella with no more than a grin. “Then I’ll leave Henry to bring you back.”

  As he was about to go, something propelled Anna to her feet. For the first time since she was a child, she threw her arms around her brother’s neck, and kissed his cheek through the veil.

  “Thank you, Rupert,” she whispered. She meant for everything. She had never said it before, and suddenly it was vitally important that he knew.

  Although he must have been stunned, he hugged her back briefly. Since he didn’t know what troubled her, he didn’t speak, for which she was grateful. He merely grinned to lift her spirits and sauntered out of the hotel.

  Darkness had closed in since Anna had arrived here. It seemed a lifetime ago.

  She became aware of Lady Arabella’s regard. “I saw your husband upstairs,” she offered. “He is well. So is your…guest.”

  “You know who he is,” Arabella guessed.

  “And I know your husband brought him.”

  “And will take him away again. It is in our country’s interests. And Europe’s.”

  Anna raised one eyebrow. “Does Captain Alban think so?”

  “I think so,” Arabella said vaguely. “Women do…don’t they?”

  “Think?” Anna said in some surprise. “Of course.”

  “And act, if necessary,” Bella added.

  “Are you accusing me of something?” Anna asked, faintly amused.

  Bella looked surprised. “Only of acting as necessary, for good. Alban would not otherwise have sent you to me.”

  Anna regarded her with interest. It seemed the time would pass bearably after all, until she could see Louis again. Then, she would need all her strength.

  *

  It was not Captain Alban but a gentleman Bella addressed as “Doctor”, who escorted them from the hotel to the harbor, where a boat, manned by several rowers, awaited them.

  When Anna hesitated, the doctor said, “The others will come in another boat. On The Albatross, one may speak with greater privacy. You will be brought safely back to shore and escorted home with every propriety.”

  “Propriety,” Anna repeated and laughed. With a sailor’s aid, she stepped into the bobbing boat, and sat on the bench beside Lady Bella.

  There was something soothing about the rhythmic splash of the oars. Even in the bitter cold, the glow of the lanterns seemed to hold them in a bubble of safety, in a place between joy and grief. She could pretend happiness was still possible. And who knew? Perhaps it was. Whatever happened, she was happy for Louis.

  The journey to the ship was quicker than she expected. Before long, she was climbing aboard the famous Albatross.

  “Is the captain aboard?” Bella asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” came the immediate response. “And he’s asked that I take Lady Anna to the second cabin.”

  Bella accompanied her, leading the way below decks, out of the biting wind. Anna swayed, holding on to the walls as the ship rolled. Bella knocked and opened a door on a decent-sized cabin that boasted a decent sized bunk with velvet curtains, and a desk which was spotlessly clear apart from several pens and a neat pile of blank paper. In front of it, stood Captain Alban, whose harsh face softened almost imperceptibly when his wife walked in.

  Anna followed her in time to see Louis striding from the sloping window. His eyes looked restless, almost turbulent, although the gleam of longing in them thrilled her. Without hesitation, she went to him, giving him both her hands, which he kissed, one after the other.

  Alban said, “I promised them a few minutes.” Taking Bella’s hand, he strode toward the door. “Be warned,” he added over his shoulder. “Himself will be back at any moment.”

  “Himself?” Anna asked bewildered, as the door closed behind the couple.

  “His name for Talleyrand,” Louis said, taking her face between his hands. His eyes seemed to devour her. “God, Anna, I don’t know if I am more proud or terrified by what you did.”

  “Or I by what you did,” she retorted.

  A hiss of laughter escaped him as he pressed his cheek to hers.

  “Were we right to save them?” she blurted. “What did they talk about?”

  “The future. What to do after the war is ended. How to keep a balance in Europe to prevent future wars. Which means not annihilating France in her defeat. There were no specifics, only principles and an agreement to negotiate in the future—whatever that future holds. I believe we were right.”

  She tangled her fingers in his hair. “Then you can go home? Is Talleyrand enough protection for you?”

  “Perhaps. The Emperor wants him back in his government, but I’m not sure he will go. I think he sees the writing on the wall.”

  “As you do.”

  “In the short term, he wants me to go to Basel where Prince Metternich and other allied rulers and ministers are meeting, to see what I can learn.”

  She clung to him. “I am glad,” she whispered.

  “As soon as there is peace, as soon as I can come to you, I will.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes, lifting her face for his kiss. She wasn’t sure how she could bear the parting, but she would. Because one day, in six months or a year, or maybe two, they would be together.

  “Will you wait for me?” he asked fiercely against her lips.

  “You know I will.”

  He kissed her again.

  The door opened quietly, causing them to move reluctantly apart.

  Talleyrand spoke in cynical English. “Bless you, my children.”

  As though struck, Louis stared at him.

  But Talleyrand addressed Anna. “Colonel Delon has told me of your part in all of this. You are an exceptional young lady and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “There is no need. I would have taken the colonel’s secrets if I could.”

  Talleyrand did not look remotely offended. He smiled faintly and limped across the room to sit by the desk. “You will excuse an old man his lack of courtesy.”

  “You are not old by any definition,” she said frankly.

  “I still have a few things to do. While you…are most unusual for an English noblewoman. I mean that as a compliment, without intending any insult to other English ladies. You are well suited to Delon. I only wish you were French.”

  Anna blinked.

  Louis let out a breath of laughter. “When there is peace, that will not matter,” he pointed out. “Sir…you were ordained a priest. Will you marry us now?”

  Deprived of breath, Anna stared at him.

  So did Talleyrand. The prince’s lips curled. “My dear Delon, supposing I even remembered how, I doubt my officiation would be considered legal in this country.”

  Louis met Anna’s gaze. Her breath rushed back with a surge of yearning so powerful she swayed. Or perhaps it was the rolling of the ship. She grabbed Louis’s arm for support.

  “It would be legal to us,” she said clearly. “Binding to us. If we are to part for months or years, give us this.”

  The tender, joyous smile that broke across Louis’s face was all the reward she wanted. Almost.

  Talleyrand laughed and shrugged. “I’ll do it. Fetch in Captain Alban and his lady, and I’ll perform the ceremony before God if not the law.”

  Chapter Eighteen<
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  And so, Anna and Louis were married by the Prince of Benevento, the Bishop of Autun, duly witnessed by Captain Alban and Lady Arabella, who signed the document Talleyrand made in their real names of Alban and Arabella Lamont. For Anna, although she was desperate to remember the whole ceremony as a comfort in the coming months, it passed in something of a blur. She saw only Louis’s face, heard only his voice.

  And nothing in her life had ever seemed so right.

  When it was done, Talleyrand blessed them with a mere hint of sardonic humor and Bella led them to a nearby empty cabin.

  “You can be private in here to say your farewells,” she said practically, lighting the lamp by the bunk. The cabin was barer than Talleyrand’s, but there were sheets and blankets on the bunk, and water and towels by the night stand to refresh themselves. There was even a light supper spread on the table. Anna realized she hadn’t eaten all day.

  “I won’t sail until high tide,” Alban said. “I’ll have someone take you ashore in a couple of hours. Feel free to use the ship as your own until then.”

  As the door closed on them, Anna turned slowly to face her husband. “Am I really Madame Delon?”

  “I don’t know,” Louis said, incurably honest with her. He shrugged off his coat and threw it on the chair, standing before her in his shirt sleeves. As though he were too hot on this wintry night. “In any way that matters to me, you are my wife.”

  “I feel the same,” she whispered. “I will miss you, Louis.”

  “Hush.” He took her in his arms, smiling into her hair. “We have ages before we need to miss each other.”

  “Two hours,” she said in despair.

  “Then let us make the most of them,” he said hoarsely, and dragged his open mouth across her jaw to her lips.

  This time, there was a strange urgency to the melting of her bones. She didn’t just want the thrill, the pleasure to go on forever. She wanted more, she wanted to be as close to him as she could get, and she wanted it at once.

  Gasping into his mouth, she kissed him back with fervor, instinctively pressing her breasts and hips against him. And that felt so good, she pushed harder, dragging him closer yet, writhing against his exciting hardness.

  He swept her off her feet, striding the two paces to the bunk before falling with her. His weight landed on her, the most thrilling sensation she had ever known, and yet she was helpless under him. He caressed her with his whole body, making her moan with delight and need, before he lifted her from the waist, unfastening her gown and stays and drawing all that black crepe from her body. And then her chemise vanished, too, and she was naked in his arms, bathed in the warm glow of the lamp.

  “Oh, let me look at you,” he breathed, his eyes wondrously hot as they devoured her from head to toe, and then he lowered his lips to her breasts, and his hand stroked everywhere, learning her every curve. Only when she plucked with increasing annoyance at his shirt, did he remove his own clothes, revealing all his own distinctive beauty. She smoothed her palms against his chest and back as she had so wanted to do since she had first seen his wounds. He wore only a light bandage around his shoulder now, so there was a lot of hot, velvet skin to caress and kiss.

  “I want this, I want all of you,” she whispered desperately. “Take me as your wife.”

  “Oh, I will,” he got out before claiming her mouth once more. He wrapped her hand around his hard shaft, and she felt only awe as she stroked it.

  She loved his hands, the way they played her body like some delicate musical instrument. And it seemed he would give her no time to be afraid, for his fingers slid up the inside of her thigh and played there, too, so softly and sweetly that she moaned and arched and gasped and let the sudden ecstasy engulf her.

  “That is what I’ll give you,” he whispered through the pleasure. “Only more. More intense, more urgent, more…everything.”

  And then it was no longer his fingers which pushed and caressed, and he was inside her, not hurting beyond the one jolt of discomfort. In new wonder, she held on to him, her eyes locked to his as their bodies moved in the age-old push and pull of love. His eyes were clouded, lost in lust, and yet they worshipped her with the rest of his body.

  “Anna, my sweet Anna,” he whispered shakily as he kissed her mouth and the pleasure built and built and the ecstasy swept over her once more, just as before only different, deeper, harder. He fell on her, groaning and she clutched him to her, knowing she was his at last, as he was hers.

  *

  She did not weep as she stood with him on the deck of The Albatross while the sailors lowered the boat into the water. Hand in hand with him in the cold night, she gazed at the moon and the stars, knowing they would always be above both of them, however far apart they were. It was a comfort.

  “My men will land you at Braithwaite Cove,” Captain Alban said, “and see you safely back to the castle.”

  “Thank you,” she answered. She cast a smile over her shoulder at Lady Bella. “I hope we can be friends one day.”

  “We already are,” Bella said. “Good luck to you, Lady Anna.”

  “And to you, Lady Bella.” She turned to Louis and lifted her face for his last, brief kiss. Their true farewells had been made in private, with her tears well hidden behind genuine joy and laughter. “Au revoir,” she breathed. “Be safe, my love.”

  “Au revoir,” he said hoarsely. “Stay out of trouble if you can.”

  She managed a smile. “Of course I can’t.”

  And then she climbed down into the boat and the sailors’ respectful hands helped her to her seat. She didn’t even know she was crying until she could no longer see the ship in front of her. She wiped at her eyes.

  “Long parting, Miss?” the coxswain asked with simple sympathy.

  “I fear so,” she answered as lightly as she could.

  “Rough.” He was silent for a long moment while the oars pulled and splashed, and Anna shivered, drawing her cloak closer around her. Then the coxswain said, “I thought the foreign gent married you.”

  Anna nodded, and he nodded sagely back.

  “Not always easy to stay together at sea,” he acknowledged. “Even married.”

  She gazed at him, frowning slightly. She was going home to inflict herself on Rupert and Serena, who would be just as happy without her. Or to go to London with Christianne and Henry. Christianne missed her, but increasingly less as Henry took over her life. And there would be children. She was sure that was Christianne’s news, saved up for when they were alone.

  But I have a life of my own now. I have a husband, a lover. I don’t need Henry’s tasks to give my life meaning. Louis is my meaning…

  She stared at the coxswain as they drew closer to the beach beneath the castle. Two of the men jumped out into the shallows to haul it ashore.

  “What am I doing?” she said aloud. And then she laughed, breathless at her own stupidity and how close she had come to wasting even more of her life. She threw herself forward. “Wait! Come back. I’ve changed my mind. Would you please be so good as to row me back to The Albatross?”

  *

  Louis watched the boat grow smaller and smaller as it neared Braithwaite Cove. Letting her go had been the hardest thing he had ever done. But it was a selfless, honorable decision to keep her safe at home with her family until he could come to her.

  And what if I have just given her a child?

  They had already discussed that possibility. She was to announce her secret marriage to Sir Lytton Lewis, immediately, just in case.

  “It might get confusing later,” she had joked, “when we have to merge Madame Delon with Lady Lewis.”

  He was leaving her alone to try and rebuild his life, betting on Talleyrand’s success, which was not entirely assured, whatever happened to France.

  Walking blindly toward his cabin, he encountered Captain Alban striding toward his. Frowning, Louis said abruptly, “Alban, you married above you, did you not?”

  “Undoubtedly. I suspect you h
ave done the same.”

  “Even more undoubtedly. But Lady Bella sails with you.”

  He shrugged. “Most of the time. We spend time at home, too, of course. But for reasons the rest of us cannot fathom, she prefers my company to the lack of it.”

  Louis frowned. He said slowly, “Leaving Anna to make my fortune, as it were, seemed perfectly sensible until she stepped into that boat.”

  Alban regarded him. “It seems to me, in your line of work, your lady would be quite an asset.”

  Louis smiled crookedly. “Even on different sides.”

  “It did you no harm in saving the late conference.”

  “True,” Louis allowed. “But she has family in England who care for her…” And didn’t he have an identity in England already, one that could be built on? Sir Lytton Lewis, husband to Lady Anna, the Marquis of Tamar’s sister. No one would doubt him. There were things he could do for Talleyrand here, surely, that would compromise no one’s honor, and even if not, he could find other employment.

  He became aware he was staring at Alban. “Launch another boat. I’m going back with her.”

  Alban stared back. “And Himself?”

  “Tell him I’ll write.” And he pushed open the hatch and bolted back on deck.

  Behind him, he was grateful to hear Alban shouting orders. It took only a few minutes to get the smaller boat in the water and organize a crew.

  “I must be going soft,” Alban commented. “Either that or I’ve lost my mind. I’m putting everyone out just to help a French enemy abduct an English noblewoman.”

  “No, you’re not,” Lady Bella said behind him. “You’re helping a man be with his wife.”

  Louis gave her a quick, grateful grin over his shoulder, and began to lower himself down into the waiting boat.

  “I can’t wait long,” Alban called after him. “My men will return in an hour, with or without you.”

  “Understood,” Louis said, getting comfortable. It was cold and spray from the sea pattered against his face. He barely noticed. Nor did he feel his wound. His whole being strained toward the shore with boundless energy. He wanted to snatch up the oars and row himself, just to get there faster.