by Heather Boyd
Determined to speak to her, he made his way across the room. She met him halfway.
“I trust my daughter gave you no trouble?” he asked immediately.
“Not at all, Lord Rafferty, although she was very wound up over her letter still.”
“I think I will issue an invitation to the Hawthorne girl, but as you suggested earlier, I should not let Ava immediately believe she’ll have everything she asks for.”
Rebecca beamed. “Very wise, my lord.”
“Yes, you are wise, my dear,” he murmured.
She nodded but looked around. “I trust you have enjoyed your evening.”
“Indeed. It has been an exciting house party so far. I hope to enjoy the delights of Stapleton Manor for days to come.”
Her face became closed off, and then she smiled benignly in a way he instantly knew meant he’s said something wrong. “We should expect very fine weather for the wedding tomorrow.”
“And for the wedding night, too, I trust?”
“Yes.” Her lashes fluttered and she looked away. “You will have to excuse me, my lord. I see my maid trying to catch my attention.”
Adam donned a concerned expression as he reached for her hand. “May I escort you to her?”
Rebecca allowed him a brief hold of her hand before pulling it back and looking beyond him. “I don’t think so.”
Adam was certain no one at the party had the slightest inkling that he and Rebecca had shared a bed, but he could tell that Rebecca lived in fear that someone would uncover their dalliance. If he was going to marry her, Adam had better start behaving like a suitor soon, or Rebecca might think him only interested in bedding her.
Winning her complete trust might just be the greatest challenge of his life.
She would make a perfect countess, but he knew precisely why he’d not thought of her before. She was not sweet. She was not even particularly friendly. She was argumentative, disapproving of Adam’s drinking. Slow to change—her father had warned him of that one.
Yet, Adam found Rebecca wildly appealing despite all that.
Rebecca knew everybody he knew. She knew precisely the right fork to go with the right plates, the right dishes to serve at a lavish wedding. She was beyond painfully organized. Those were not skills they shared. Adam was spontaneous, optimistic and frank.
She was none of those—except when they had been alone together.
Rebecca had once complained that he was a degenerate drunk with no sense of decency. He’d deserved that set down because he’d stumbled into a bedchamber meant for her use. For years, he’d used the drink to keep him company.
Never again would he need to if he married her.
He leaned close to her and whispered, “Dance with me?”
She looked so startled he had to smile.
“Dance with me tomorrow at the wedding.”
“You don’t dance.”
“I used to,” he admitted. “I haven’t felt the need to in years.”
Her brow creased with a frown. “Have you been drinking again?”
He didn’t blame her for the question. He’d been playing the drunk for so long, she couldn’t yet see the change she’d wrought. “No, and I’m still waiting for an answer, madam.”
“I don’t mean to dance at all tomorrow night,” she told him. “I’m sorry.”
“Damn but you don’t make it easy for a man,” he told her, but he could see her face had set into frost once more because his voice had become louder. How was he supposed to woo her if she refused to accommodate such a harmless request? Men and women danced together all the time and it meant nothing. No one cared about one single dance. Two, though, and people might whisper. “Make no mistake, I’ll be back tomorrow night when the dancing begins to ask you again to stand up with me.”
He bowed to her and stalked off to cool his temper. In the past, he would have headed straight for a bottle. But he would not fall back on old habits yet. Her lack of ease around him in public was a small setback. One he would overcome with her. One day.
He groaned out loud, and then turned on his heel and took himself to bed. Alone again and doubly frustrated. There was nothing to be gained in remaining in the drawing room if he couldn’t talk to her.
He was inside his room only ten minutes before the door opened and closed behind him.
Rebecca had followed him. “What is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me? Everything—and it is your fault.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. I thought you said you were enjoying your evening.”
“I wanted to enjoy it more, with you by my side.” He raked a hand through his hair as his frustration exceeded his patience. “You are so afraid someone might see us together and leap to conclusions you constantly deny me your time.”
“Have you no care for my reputation?”
“Of course I care about that, but I wasn’t about to seduce you in the drawing room. Promising to dance one dance with me does not necessarily amount to shouting that you’ve had me.”
“Shh,” she warned because his voice had risen.
“Yes, I’m well aware that you live your life expecting the worst. I, however, do not.”
“I have a lot to lose,” she warned.
“And so much to gain if you could just trust me a little.”
“I trusted a man once,” she complained bitterly.
He advanced on her. “I am not Warner. I never once strayed in my marriage. I would not treat you so poorly.”
She looked up then, eyes huge with emotion. “How can you be so certain? Men have urges.”
Adam shook his head, quite willing to kill her late husband all over again for what the bastard had done to Rebecca. She appeared confident, assured, but she was plagued by insecurities. “My urges, as you put it, lie solely in one direction. What of yours, Becca?”
She lifted her chin proudly. “Do I really have to say it?”
“Yes, sometimes a gentleman likes to know how a lady feels about him—from her own lips,” Adam warned.
She made a grumbling sound. “Well, I’m not going to flatter you and say that last night was the best of my entire life. I’m sure you could tell it was.”
“No, I didn’t realize that. Tell me what you liked about last night? Specifically.”
Rebecca fidgeted under Adam’s gaze. “I don’t know,” she wailed suddenly. “I don’t know how to say the things you want to hear. Other women—”
“I don’t give a damn about what other women might say or do with me. I want you,” he whispered. He caught her head and pushed her body against the nearest wall, leaned down until their lips were inches apart. “If you won’t tell me what you feel, how can I know what you want from me? I have yearned to get my hands on you since the moment we met by the lake today. Our kiss was too brief to satisfy me, and every moment since we parted then has been agony. That is what I think and feel, madam.”
Her eyes grew wider than ever. “Agony?”
“Agony,” he insisted. “So close but so far out of my reach. I ache for you,” he admitted.
Rebecca licked her lips. She stared at him for a long time before answering. “And I for you.”
She suddenly stretched up and pressed her lips to his. Adam bent his bigger frame to fit hers, and then put his hands beneath her sweet derrière. He lifted her up against him and, using the wall to support more of her weight, he ravished her mouth.
Rebecca wound her arms around his neck and held on to him as if she wouldn’t let go.
Adam quickly hiked up her skirts until they were bunched about her hips and he squeezed her bare backside, reveling in the small moans she let herself utter.
Rebecca’s hands were suddenly all over him, tugging at his clothing. Adam held them a little apart so she could unfasten his breeches, and when he felt the last button pop, he shoved the garment down his legs.
He pressed against her again and kissed her soundly.
The sensation of his hard c
ock against her bare skin was heaven. Rebecca trembled in his arms, rubbing her body against his urgently and kissing him more hungrily than he thought possible.
She broke away suddenly. “I need you.”
Adam knew where.
He wrapped her legs securely about his hips and brought one hand between them.
He teased Rebecca, and she gasped and shuddered in apparent ecstasy at his touch.
Adam wrapped his hand about his cock and rubbed the tip back and forth across her clitoris. “I love the way you move against me,” he whispered into the shell of her ear.
His confession earned Adam another small shudder and another throaty moan from the quiet woman. Adam set his lips to her neck and nibbled, devoting himself to making her moan over and over.
Rebecca loosened her grip on his neck suddenly and slid her hand between their bodies. The tips of her fingers brushed against the head of his cock a few times, but then she dislodged him completely.
Adam drew back to see what she was doing, and his cock thickened even more. Only Rebecca’s hand remained to tease herself with now, but her thighs were still wrapped tightly around him.
He moved to enter her, brushing the head against her opening. Then he pushed in to the hilt, straight and true, and claimed her body for his own. Rebecca’s eyes fluttered shut, and a small smile turned up her lips. When he withdrew, Rebecca was quick to sink herself against him again.
Adam had not intended the night to begin this way, but he couldn’t stop now.
“Please,” she begged. “Faster.”
Adam complied. He made love to Rebecca until the portraits hanging nearby rattled with every thrust. He loved her until he was panting and desperate for release. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she pulled hard, whimpering her pleasure.
Adam kept his attention on her face now, and he slowed his pace. The lamplight showed every emotion there was to see. “I want to see you come for me.”
She parted her lips, and then her fingers fluttered over her sex once more.
She writhed against him desperately. Adam kept his thrusts even and waited for her to climax. Her body suddenly clenched around his cock and a small sob left her lips as she shuddered. Her body shook around him again and again, and she buried her face in his shoulder as the spasms continued to wrack her body.
Adam was overwhelmed by her pleasure. He slammed into her once, twice, and then he loosened his seed inside her.
Panting hard, they stayed together, gasping as one for several minutes. Rebecca’s sex still twitched around him as Adam hugged her tightly. He swept her hair from her damp face and nuzzled her lips gently.
He eased from her body and then swept her into his arms. Adam had to shuffle to the bed because his breeches were around his ankles, but he managed to set her down on his sheets without incident. He undressed her carefully in silence, and then pinched out the candle. He stripped and slid into bed beside her in the dark.
Adam drew Rebecca into his arms. “You are an incredible lover,” he told her.
She put her hand on his chest and looked up into his face. “I think you are, too.”
Adam grinned. “Finally a little flattery.”
Her face clouded with remorse. “I don’t mean to be cold,” she whispered. “It’s just I’ve never once had to talk this way. It isn’t proper.”
He kissed the top of her head quickly. “I guess I’ll always know when I’ve pleased you and when I don’t. I hope you’ll always tell me that you are satisfied.”
“I am,” she whispered.
Tomorrow, Adam would begin his campaign to turn that I am into an I do as soon as possible. He had not been in control of his passions enough and if he got her with child, her reputation would be in tatters. It had not been intentional but she would hate him for that.
He snuggled closer to her and covered them with a sheet. It was a warm night, and Rebecca fell asleep in his arms very quickly. Soon after he was very glad she had. A group of people passed his door. Any earlier, and they would have heard he and Rebecca making love. They had not been quiet that time.
Chapter 12
“Weddings are such bittersweet occasions, aren’t they, sister?” Fanny murmured as she and Rebecca stood back while the younger sister finished being dressed for her wedding. It was almost time to go down, too. Gideon Whitfield must be growing impatient.
The most anticipated occasion of the summer had everyone at Stapleton Manor smiling. From the servants to the many guests, the manor house was buzzing with enthusiasm. The flower-strewn drawing room was already filled with visitors who had made the journey to be with the family.
Every corner was festooned with ribbons and bows, and the great mantle, above which now hung the portrait of their late mother, stood in readiness for the ceremony.
Rebecca was content. She had done her part, made sure her sister’s special day would be as memorable as possible.
But tomorrow morning at first light, Rebecca would leave for London.
“She looks lovely,” Rebecca murmured, full of love for her younger sister. Jessica was marrying a man who truly loved her. And although at times Jessica was a little overwhelmingly attached to Gideon Whitfield, Rebecca believed that their match was perhaps the best she’d ever beheld. It was undeniable that Gideon adored Jessica, and that was all Rebecca could ask for.
Fanny hugged Rebecca suddenly. “Are you thinking about your wedding day like I am?”
Rebecca hadn’t thought of her own special day very fondly in years. She didn’t want to spoil today with introspection that could only leave her feeling bitter. She pushed the memories away. “Yours was such a grand occasion.”
Her sister made a little sound. “I remember hearing about yours after the fact.”
“You and Lord Rivers were in the north at the time,” Rebecca reminded Fanny. “You had been away for so long.”
“I would have come back to see you like this,” Fanny murmured. “I should have been with you.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I really don’t want to dredge up the past today of all days.”
Fanny sighed. “We should thrash this out soon. You are my sister, too, and I don’t like that we don’t talk about anything important anymore. I’m sorry about what I said yesterday. I thought, I assumed, incorrectly that you were jealous.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I only ever wanted you to be happy in your life with Rivers.”
Fanny sighed. “I wish Rivers had lived a little longer. There was so much we wanted to experience together. He was so fond of Jessica, and of you.”
“He was a good man.” Rebecca sighed.
“The same could not be said about Warner. He wasn’t evil, but he was weak and too used to having his own way in everything.”
Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest. So much for leaving the past in the past. She’d much rather think about the present. The future was too uncertain to be relied upon.
“What do you think, Mrs. Warner? Is she ready to be given away?” the duchess asked Rebecca as she stepped back from the bride.
Fanny rushed to Jessica and caught up her hands. “I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful bride.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Something is missing.”
She went to a nearby table and opened a drawer. She had thought of a surprise for Jessica days ago, and the duchess knew all about it. She removed a stunning hair comb from the drawer, one crusted with sapphires and diamonds. It had belonged to their mother but was now part of the new duchess’ collection of jewels. Each of them had worn it during their own wedding ceremonies.
Rebecca approached her sister with it, holding it flat on her palm. “Mother would have wanted you to wear this today.”
Jessica’s eyes filled with tears and she placed trembling fingers upon the heirloom. “I thought you had forgotten the tradition.”
“Never, my darling.”
Rebecca moved behind Jessica. She gently inserted the precious jewel into Jessica’s hair and then ti
lted her head a little so she could see it in the twin mirrors she stood before.
The duchess beamed. “Now you are the perfect bride! Your mother would be so proud of you today.” The duchess dabbed at the corner of her eye suddenly. “I’m certain she’d be crying like I am about to.”
“Our mother did love weddings,” Rebecca agreed.
Jessica worried her lip. “I’m afraid to move my head. The piece is not too formal, is it?”
“Absolutely not,” Fanny gushed. “You honor our mother by proudly wearing her jewels.”
Jessica’s lips trembled, and Rebecca rushed forward now before she burst into tears. Practicality had its uses. “Let me see you. All you need now is to pick up your flowers and to walk downstairs with Mother and Father by your side. After all, we can’t trust you not to sprint into Gideon’s arms.”
The duchess choked on a laugh. “That’s what I was afraid of, too.”
Jessica laughed along with them. “I wouldn’t embarrass him or any of you like that.” She smiled impishly. “But you can’t stop me running to him after I’m married.”
Rebecca laughed along with the duchess and Fanny. “Come along, Lady Rivers. We must leave so Papa can steal a few minutes alone with the bride.”
Rebecca opened the door and discovered Father pacing outside. “She’s ready.”
“At last,” he exclaimed with a grin. He went in, and Rebecca closed the door to give them privacy. Although Fanny tried to linger to listen in, Rebecca was having none of that and pulled her sister away firmly. “Neither of us need to hear or see our father burst into tears again.”
Fanny gaped. “Did he cry on your wedding day?”
Rebecca stopped in her tracks and nodded slowly. “Didn’t he with you, too?”
Fanny frowned now. “No! He told me he loved me and would miss me, and that was all he said.”
Fanny had always been close to Father. Closer than Rebecca had ever been. She glanced at the closed door they’d just left and her eyes stung. She had assumed she wasn’t his favorite child for so many years, it was disconcerting to realize she hadn’t missed anything of her father’s love. “He told me it wasn’t too late to reconsider.”