He would never have bought this place for her if he had intended to propose marriage. Surely his proposal was only an afterthought, a means to protect her in the face of Marie’s threats. She sighed.
“I cannot tell if those are tears of joy or of sadness. Please tell me you will accept it, Kat. May I call you Kat now?”
She nodded, unable to speak for fear of dissolving into a sobbing mess. She no longer had any compunction about accepting his gift, for she knew how unjustly she had mistrusted his motives before. It was a sick twist of fate that this miraculous rescue from ruin should now appear to her as an awful curse, a sure sign that she could never accept his kind offer of marriage.
He smiled encouragingly. “I wish you would not cry, my dearest Kat. I feel so happy at this moment, except that I suspect there is something troubling you. Will you not tell me what the matter is? Surely I can help?”
“I—” she croaked. “I do not know how to thank you for this, Foxleigh.”
He shook his head. “Your gratitude embarrasses me. This seems like such a small thing. I wish to do so much more for you. Will you not let me take you away with me to some much nicer place?”
Was he offering her carte blanche? Her nipples hardened at the thought. And why should she not accept? She shook her head and hid her streaming eyes in her palms. Of course he was not.
He seemed to sense what she was thinking, for he sputtered, “Um, I meant after we are married, of course. I have a special license. I know it was presumptuous of me but—”
“A special license?” Kat looked up from her hands, sniffling. She could barely breathe to ask the question. “Did you get it while you were away in the village?”
“When else? Took some doing, but it never ceases to amaze me what a duke can get prepared for him rapidly.”
She was panting. He had meant to ask her before Marie even showed up. She swallowed and fixed his dark eyes with her own. “And you did not offer to marry me, merely because you feel sorry for me? To rescue me from poverty?”
“Offer to marry you?” He shook his head in confusion. “I am begging you to marry me. I bought this property to rescue you from poverty. I proposed because I love you. I have never stopped loving you, you marvelous little lunatic! How could you construe it any other way? Even as I signed the papers, I wished with all my heart to take you away from this place, but until you agreed to be my wife, I had to be certain you would not suffer. And…”
“And?” she whispered, her heart threatening to burst.
“I wanted to be sure that if you no longer loved me, if you could not love me again, that desperation would not force you to accept me. I could not do that to you.” He laughed sardonically. “Though I suppose I need not have had any concerns on that head. The woman who would rather run away on foot with nothing but her chickens and dog than accept my offer is not likely to be swayed into marriage by dire necessity. But I hope, Katherine—is it not possible that in time you might grow to—”
She interrupted him, shaking her head at her own stupidity. “That woman was an utter fool.” Katherine smiled at him and she thought he must be able to feel the love radiating from her heart, warmer than even the roaring fire behind her. “She no longer exists.”
“Does that mean?” His face split into a hopeful smile. “Wait!” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a glittering object. He came around to her side of the table and knelt before her, holding out a golden ring. “I came prepared, but I neglected to do things properly, earlier. My apologies.”
She held her breath. God how she wanted to kiss him, but she dared not interrupt him now.
“Kat, you own my heart, utterly and completely—more now even than when you first captured it, years ago. And I am sorry for how disastrously things have gone since then, but if you consent to be my wife, I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you. Will you rescue me now from my misery as you once rescued me from the snowbank, and consent to marry me?”
“With all my heart!” She leaned into him and whispered in his ear as he slipped the ring onto her finger, “But only if you let me sample my future husband’s wares ahead of time.”
“Oh God, how you tempt me!” He stood and pulled her into a long, deep kiss. He tasted like wine and chocolate and she wanted never to emerge from that maddening crush of skin and breath. She could feel his hardness where he pressed against her.
She came up for air finally. “Does that mean you agree to my terms? I have had an inkling that we might try out that straw bed…”
“I could deny you nothing, my dearest darling Kat.” His eyes were fierce. “But at this point, I do not think I could restrain myself, even if I wanted to. Only I have taken the liberty of bringing a proper mattress. The servants have set it up in your room.” He gave her a roguish smile. “But I could have them replace the straw if your bent turns that way.”
“Mmmmm.” She kissed him again. “You think of everything. Never mind the straw—a bed will be glorious. But I think I shall need to bathe first.”
He growled in her ear. “It is good that I had the servants fill a tub for you in your bedchamber, then. But I shall attend to washing that luscious body myself.”
When they were alone in the bedroom, he carefully removed her clothing. His touch was hot, and she could see the massive erection of his member beneath his clothes, but his hands were gentle as he cupped her breast and bent down to kiss her nipple. The pleasure was sweet but maddening. She did not want him to stop, yet sadly he did, lifting her into his arms and setting her into the warm water of the copper tub.
It was luxurious and deep. She lay back into it, fully immersing her head and succumbing to the sweet ministrations of hot water on her sore, tired body. She had not had such a bath since she left London. She moaned unconsciously and came to the surface as he began to apply the bar soap to all her parts.
“God, you are so beautiful.” His voice was hoarse, and her body responded to the heat in it. Even if she were not sitting in water, she was quite certain she would still be soaking wet.
He washed and rinsed her hair, then began to feel around her womanhood with his fingers until he found her pearl. Gently at first, and then gradually increasing the pressure he stroked her and stroked her, until she thought she would go mad with wanting him inside of her.
She was panting when he finally lifted her from the tub and dried her skin and hair with fresh, lavender scented towels. Then he stripped off his own clothes and stood before her naked, his rippling muscles gleaming in the candlelight. She could not resist reaching her hand out to feel his engorged manhood, and it throbbed toward her.
“I want you so badly.” He moaned as she stroked it lightly.
He heaved her into his arms and carried her to the bed. When he lay her down, he began to tease her with his tongue, pushing his fingers into her as he did so. He took her right to edge, and then stopped, raising himself up to her lips and kissing her deeply until she thought she would faint.
“I have waited so long for this.” He sighed as he entered her slowly with long circular motions of his hips. It only hurt a little, and then the pleasure began as he pushed deeper and deeper into her. She clawed his muscular buttocks and greedily pulled him further inside of her, wanting more, wanting all. He thrust harder and faster until she cried out in ecstasy as wave after wave of hot pleasure washed over her.
He groaned, “Oh you hot, wet goddess. How I love you!” as he pounded into her hard and shuddered, filling her with his seed.
When they awoke from dozing, he kissed her breasts and worked his way up to her neck. “Do you know how much I love you?”
She smiled. “It cannot possibly be as much as I love you, Fox.”
“I love to hear you call me that, and it is ungrateful of me to argue with you when you have made me so happy, but you are wrong. I love you more. And do you know, I believe you have found a cure for my dizzy spells, clever girl.” His eyes sparkled in the candlelight.
He was
so handsome. She inhaled the masculine musk of his chest where it mingled with the bergamot orange scent that he wore. Then she cocked her left brow at him and tilted her head. “So how soon can we do that again?”
He chuckled. “Greedy little Kat. I only promised you one taste, you know. Otherwise you might take what you like from me and try to run away again.”
“You may play at being indifferent all you like, but your friend down there tells a different story.”
He growled and rolled on top of her.
Chapter 16
More Afoot
Foxleigh sipped at his morning tea and settled back into his chair with a contented sigh. It had not taken much to persuade Katherine to relocate to the village inn. They took separate chambers, and Foxleigh found a respectable widow to be Katherine’s companion, for appearances sake. But Mrs. Broden was the sort of chaperone who dozed a lot and was mostly deaf. Foxleigh had made sure of that.
He grinned with the memory of his clandestine liaisons with Kat. They always started with chess and ended with much, much better amusements. The secrecy made their meetings more piquant, but even without that added seasoning, he was sure he could never get enough of her.
Things began stirring below deck. “Easy, Foxleigh.” It would not do to show up at the church with his sabre raised.
He withdrew his gold watch from his waistcoat pocket. It would be a long enough interval until their ten o’clock meeting with the priest. He sighed. This was one of those things one simply could not hurry along, but the waiting stirred up his nervous fancy that something would go wrong. They were to take separate carriages, for appearances, but he did not like it.
He wished he could see her once before the ceremony, but he knew he would only be in the way of the entourage of servants he had hired to prepare her. “I guess we two exiled bachelors will have to keep each other company.” He patted Dog and fed him a piece of bacon from a plate he kept for the purpose. It was good to see that he was already recovering some weight.
He detected in Katherine a belief that she was worn out and no longer beautiful. It was preposterous, of course. He would not have thought it possible, but she was more beautiful now than she had been even as a brilliant debutante in the full bloom of youth. Her features had sharpened a tad with hunger, but it threw her lovely bone structure into full relief and gave her a regal look. The self-reliance and resourcefulness she now possessed gave her a mien to match.
But he wanted to remove any notion she was no longer beautiful from her brain, so he had prepared a rather elaborate group of expert servants to pamper, primp and dress her within an inch of her life.
Nothing was too good for her, and he wanted her to feel it. Unfortunately, that meant leaving her alone for several hours, which was maddening.
He drained the last of his tea and checked his watch again. Only five minutes had elapsed. He stood and went in search of a book or a newspaper, but a tap came on the chamber door.
The servant ushered in Foxleigh’s man of business.
“Mr. Sumner. A pleasure.”
“Your grace, I crave your pardon for the intrusion on this special morning. May I beg a five minute audience?”
“Certainly. You do not intrude. I have been rattling about my chambers here with nothing to do but fret away the remaining hours until my wedding. Your call has no doubt saved me from madness.”
Sumner smiled obligingly at this dry quip, but seemed troubled. “Let me come right to the point, your grace. The special assignment you gave me to discover which of your London servants betrayed your location to Mrs. Dubois has uncovered some startling information.”
“Indeed?” Foxleigh ushered Sumner back to the small oak table and gestured to the servant for more tea.
“A footman was behind the domestic espionage.”
Foxleigh rolled his eyes heavenward and harrumphed. “It is always a ruddy footman, is it not? I should probably put up an embargo against any member of staff caught being more handsome than he has a right to be.”
Sumner’s smile was still restrained. “My investigator soon discovered that there was much more afoot.”
“More afoot than the footman? Heavens!” Still unable to elicit a chuckle from the serious Sumner, Foxleigh finally sighed in concession. “What more?”
Sumner swallowed. “It appears Marie Dubois’ espionage was only part of a greater plot. Forgive me for the shock, your grace, but she was behind the robbery itself. The plan was that no one should be harmed, if her henchmen are to be believed. Only the carriage was to be disabled so that she could accidentally happen upon you and come to your aid.”
Foxleigh’s eyes narrowed. “I did not believe I could think less of Mrs. Dubois, but you have proven me wrong.” He stood up and paced the room, looking for something to break. “That woman conspired to commit a heinous felony and is responsible for the deaths of three good men. Has she been arrested?”
Sumner shifted uncomfortably. “Her co-conspirators have been found out and are in gaol. But I am afraid the lady herself has not yet been located.”
Foxleigh paused at a large ornate vase and considered kicking it over. But no. Breaking things would not relieve his anger. And if Marie was still slithering about plotting, his energy was better spent arranging more security for Katherine. He had clearly underestimated the evil that Marie was capable of. He could take no further risks.
Foxleigh strode to the door. “Thank you, Sumner. I authorize you to post a one thousand pound reward for her apprehension. Excuse me, I must go see to arranging an armed guard for my bride.”
The words sounded so utterly strange. He wondered, as he made to leave the startled Sumner, if any man had ever before said such a thing on his wedding day.
“But wait, your grace! I have other news. It seems your grace was right about that land agent. Atherton has been swindling the elderly Mr. Burns for some time.”
“I am not at all surprised, Sumner. Now be a good fellow and give Dog some more bacon,” Foxleigh called back through the door, before slipping away. “And make sure Burns has a good barrister when you hand the information over to him. I will pay for that too.”
He no longer cared about vengeance against Atherton. A sense of foreboding gripped him. He must get to Katherine immediately.
Chapter 17
The Penitent and the Imp
The warmth from the curling tongs and brazier carried the scent of pomades and perfumes about the toilette, enfolding Katherine in a heady cloud of luxury. She wanted to pinch herself as she peered into the looking glass.
It did not seem to be real. The lady’s maids had utterly transformed her, and so quickly. Her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled with a luster to match the profusion of pearls in her creamy silk dress. The small embellishments of holly on each side of her coiffure were a lovely homage to the festivity surrounding her wedding.
She was about to receive the best early Christmas present imaginable. I wonder if God will cast white rose petals for the occasion. She mentally stuck out her tongue at Marie.
Katherine could not stop marveling at the reflection in the long mirror. Was it really her? She could almost see, within her brightened eyes and the glossy mass of black curls that cascaded from the coronet of her hair, a glimmer of the stellar debutante she had once been.
And yet, there was something much more there. The capability and self-command that her gown and hair could only frame were so much better than the guileless prettiness of the ingénue. And the long gloves hid all the evidence of hard work. She chuckled and her reflected image laughed with her. Seeing herself now, like this, she could almost be thankful for the detour her life had taken. Almost.
However, the past was the past. She did not deserve this happiness, but she was certainly going to seize it with both hands, like the lady-robber that she was.
She blushed at the memory. Now would be a good time to clear her conscience. She was not much of a church-going woman, but she was feeling guilty about her intention
to become a highwaywoman, even if she had never succeeded at it. There was time before the ceremony. She should go early to the church and pray beforehand.
“Thank you, ladies. You are true artists. Can you tell the man to have the carriage brought round? I wish to go to the church now.”
They curtseyed and departed. It had been such a long time since she had assistance from anyone, let alone a servant. And now she was to be a duchess! She shook her head. How would she ever get used to it?
As she arrived at the church with the yawning Mrs. Broden, she could see that the servants were already there, decorating an arched trellis with ivy and lace for the bride and groom to walk under. It was a nice touch.
Katherine pulled her fur cape around her as she ascended the step to the church door. Inside the air was cool, but it felt warm on Katherine’s frost-nipped face. More servants were lighting candles and putting bunches of holly leaves and berries along the aisle.
Mrs. Broden seemed to sense the bride wanted solitude and hung back a few pews, as Katherine seated herself near the front.
She hoped God would forgive her for not kneeling, but she did not wish to crush her lovely dress. An ominous feeling gripped her, and her stomach was gnawed by the conviction that, were she not absolved of her intention to steal, she could not happily marry the man she loved. She pressed her hands together in silent prayer.
It got boring after a few minutes. How long did one have to pray before being properly forgiven? But this was not an ordinary case and required extra precautions. She chastised herself for being a lazy penitent and resolved to continue.
“Well. I am glad I found you here, and before the ceremony, too. Such luck. Perhaps I can talk some sense into you.” The voice was cold and aristocratic.
Katherine opened her eyes to behold a stranger, expensively dressed but in such an eye-stabbingly violent array of colours that Katherine blinked twice to see if the tall apparition would disappear. But the man remained.
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