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Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance - Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Romance: Historical, #Historical, #American Historical Fiction, #General, #Fiction - Romance, #Historical - General

An Earl to Enchant (26 page)

BOOK: An Earl to Enchant
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She loved the feel of his weight resting on her body. Her hands moved languorously over his strong back. “What do you mean? You were not violent, nor were you a beast.”

“Do not try to assuage my shame or my guilt. I have no excuse for my clumsy haste, for taking my own pleasure and not thinking about you. I wanted you. I wanted you with such fury that I didn’t care that I was ruining you. I didn’t care that your servants might come in and catch us. I cared for nothing except possessing you.”

Arianna didn’t understand his remorse. “I am not unhappy about what happened, Morgan. How could I be? I was able to do for you what you did for me on the coast. I’ve wanted this, and for the first time you wanted me. How can that upset me?”

Morgan chuckled into her neck and then raised his head and looked deeply into her eyes. “No, not for the first time, Arianna. I have wanted you a million times since the first night I saw you. It has never been my right to take you. But tonight I felt your fear and saw your tears, and the only way I can explain it is to say I could no longer control my emotions. I never intended for this to happen, and I certainly didn’t intend for it to happen like this.”

His words pierced her heart with such sadness that all she could say was, “I know.”

There was so much uncertainty in her about where she should go from here that she suddenly wanted to weep again, but she dare not show him her weakness a second time. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and summoned an inner strength.

When she lifted her lashes, she pushed at Morgan’s chest. “We shouldn’t be doing this, not now, not knowing what happened to—”

“Shh.” He silenced her by placing a finger tenderly upon her lips. “Listen to me. Nothing can be done for the man who is dead except for me to take care of his family, and I will. I have already dispatched a doctor from here in London to go to Post. The man is already on his way. All that can be done for him will be done. There’s nothing more I can do right now for him. I have already talked to a man on Bow Street, and by now, there should be runners arriving to guard your house and to make sure no one gets in here. What I can do now is right the wrong I did to you.”

She was puzzled by his words. “What wrong?”

He touched her cheek with his fingertips and smiled. “I’m going to show you how a man makes love to a woman, starting right now. Where are your servants?”

Suddenly Arianna felt as if a million butterflies were fighting to get out of her stomach. “All retired but Mrs. Hartford, who is in the music room playing the pianoforte.”

He smiled. “So that is real music I hear?”

“I asked Mrs. Hartford to play the pianoforte while she waits to show you out.”

He chuckled low in his throat before saying, “I always hear music when I’m with you, so I had no idea there was someone actually playing this time.”

His words thrilled her. Arianna felt as if her heart opened up and was filled with Morgan.

“Is there any chance she’ll bother us?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t think she will come until I call her.”

Her lips parted for a final, feeble protest, but all they found was the warmth of Morgan’s mouth covering hers, softly, sweetly, briefly. He cupped her waist with one hand and with the other gently massaged her breast. He rocked his lower body against hers, and Arianna felt him filling her again. All the pent-up tension left her body, and she melted beneath his gentle touch.

“All right, you had your turn, I’ve had mine, and now it’s time for our turn. You and me together this time.”

Arianna smiled. “I would like that.”

As he kissed her lips, her cheeks, and her eyes, his movements were confident, commanding. His mouth and tongue ravaged hers in a hungry kiss, and his body leaned heavily, deeply into hers, pressing his hardness into her softness. She met his ardor with a surprising fervency of her own.

He propped himself above her with one hand, and with the other, he grabbed hold of the neckline of her dress and pushed it off her shoulder and down her arm. With little work, he freed her breast and cupped it before closing his mouth over her nipple.

Arianna gasped with pleasure that was too wonderful to put into words. Her nipple stiffened beneath his gentle touch. Waves of pleasure radiated through her. He bent his head and closed his mouth over the rosy tip of her breast and suckled. Arianna moaned with exquisite delight. She slid her hands up to let her fingers tangle in his thick, luxurious hair. Her hand traced the line of his shoulder and down his muscled arm. His hand molded over the fullness of her breast, and he gently sucked, giving her immense pleasure and satisfaction.

Pulling his neckcloth and collar down with her teeth, she nuzzled the warmth of his neck with her nose and lips, letting her tongue explore his scratchy skin, tasting him. Her hands combed over the solid wall of back, hips, and buttocks.

“Lift your hips and move with me, Arianna.”

And she did, matching his rhythm as he pressed against her. He kissed her lips, her eyes, the tip of her nose, and down to her breast again.

“I have dreamed of this, Arianna, so many times.”

Suddenly, when that sensation she couldn’t explain, couldn’t control, settled in her womanly core, her heart beat so loudly in her ears it was frightening, exhilarating.

His lips left her breast and brushed up her chest and across her shoulder. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck. Arianna rose up to cup his body to her, and an explosion of sensation spiraled through her that was so heavenly she thought she might lose her breath and faint. She wanted to cry out that she loved him with all her heart, but she swallowed the words and kept them hidden in her heart, and the sensation slowly ebbed.

Moments later, Morgan’s body jerked, his rough breathing slowed, and he settled himself deep within her. He moaned softly, breathlessly, and kissed that soft area between her neck and shoulders.

Morgan slipped his arms beneath her back and hugged her tightly to his chest before raising his head and looking down into her eyes. “I didn’t want this to happen between us like this, Arianna, but now that it has, I can’t say I’m sorry it did.”

She smiled. “I’m not sorry either. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He nodded. “Forgive me for being in a hurry. I will make it up to you.”

To Arianna there was nothing to forgive, but if he thought there was, she wanted him at peace. “You’re forgiven,” she whispered.

He kissed her so tenderly Arianna wanted the kiss to last forever, but she knew that couldn’t be. They lay that way only for a few moments before Morgan rose, turned his back, and quietly started adjusting his clothing. Arianna rose and quickly did the same to her clothing and hair.

When he turned to face her, he said, “I have many things to do, Arianna. You’ll be safe here. I don’t want you leaving this house until I get back to talk to you.”

He reached down and picked up the shawl that was spotted with the evidence of her virginity and handed it to her. “You don’t want your maid to see this. Now go call Mrs. Hartford and tell her I’m ready to leave.”

Twenty

My Dearest Grandson Lucas,

I’m sure Lord Chesterfield had a particular person in mind when he wrote this, but he never made mention of the name. “A strange concurrence of circumstances has sometimes raised very bad men to high stations, but they have been raised like criminals to a pillory, where their persons and their crimes, by being more conspicuous, are only more known, the more detested, and the more pelted and insulted.”

Your loving Grandmother,

Lady Elder

Arianna loved Morgan with all her heart, but she simply couldn’t obey his every command. She had to warn Mr. Warburton about Mr. Rajaratnum. She would have loved to have gone straight to bed and dreamed about every touch, every taste, and every whisper from her time with Morgan, but that would have to wait until sometime in the future. Right now, duty demanded that she think about her wants later. The first thing she had to do was go to see Mr. Warburton.

Morgan thought Mr. Warburton could take care of himself, but she wasn’t so sure of that. He was a man her father’s age, and her father certainly hadn’t been a match for Mr. Rajaratnum’s youth and strength. The old man needed to be warned. Arianna was sure of it. And just a note via a footman might not convince Mr. Warburton that he was in danger.

It was bad enough that she had the death of Morgan’s groom, Jessup, on her head, and possibly Post’s, too. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if any harm came to Mr. Warburton and she hadn’t alerted him. Morgan said he had someone watching her house so that Mr. Rajaratnum couldn’t get in, so she felt comfortable that her servants should be safe.

As soon as Mrs. Hartford showed Morgan out of the house, Arianna dismissed her for the evening. But instead of going straight to bed, Arianna went to her room and found a black, hooded cloak and her reticule. She opened her jewelry chest, took some coins from the bottom of it, and dropped them into the drawstring purse. She had a moment’s hesitation, thinking maybe she was once again being too impulsive. What would she do if it was too late in the evening to find a coach to hire? Arianna pushed those thoughts away as just being jittery. What little she’d seen of London’s streets the evening she went to the ball with Constance, they were very busy with traffic. She would be fine. And just in case she had to wait for Mr. Warburton, as she had the first time she visited him, she picked up her copy of Lord Chesterfield’s letters from her night stand and stuffed the small book into her reticule with the coins. She picked up her cape and turned to leave. Beabe was standing in the doorway.

“I thought you were already in bed,” Arianna said.

“Not yet. I was doing some mending, getting ready for my journey next week. Right now, I’m thinking it looks like it was a good thing I was busy. What are you doing with your cloak and reticule in your hands at this time of night?”

Arianna took in a deep breath. “It’s not that late, yet. I must go out, Beabe, but I don’t want the rest of the staff to know, so I would appreciate it if you would speak quietly.”

“If you are going out, Miss Ari, I’m going with you.”

“I must do this alone.”

“No, Miss Ari, I can’t let you do that. I told your father I’d take care of you, and I will. I don’t know where you are going, but you are not going without me.”

Beabe was so fearful of Mr. Rajaratnum, Arianna didn’t want Beabe to know that she had been right and the man was in London. “All right, just to keep you quiet, you can ride in the coach with me, but I must go into Mr. Warburton’s house by myself. Now get your cape and meet me at the front door.”

When Beabe came down with her cloak, she also had Benson with her. She had taken it upon herself to wake the driver to take them to Mr. Warburton’s rather than risk the chance of not finding a coach to hire. Arianna easily agreed, seeing the logic and safety in having her own driver.

It took longer for Benson to go to the mews and ready the carriage than it did to drive to Mr. Warburton’s house. But finally, Arianna was standing on the man’s front steps, waiting for someone to answer the door. A steady rain fell, and there was a chill to the foggy air, but somehow she knew she was doing the right thing in coming to see the man.

At last, an older woman opened the door just enough to peek around it and asked, “Who is it?”

“Miss Arianna Sweet. I met you about a week ago when I brought some papers to Mr. Warburton. I realize it’s late, but it’s important that I speak to him.”

“Hold on, I’ll see if he’s available,” the woman said and shut the door again.

Arianna looked back to the coach and waved to Benson to let him know all was fine. A couple of minutes later the door jerked open and Mr. Warburton stood in front of her.

“Miss Sweet. I—ah—come in. This is unexpected, but do come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Warburton,” she said, stepping into the warmth of his home. “I needed to talk to you. It’s quite urgent, and I felt it couldn’t wait until morning.”

“I don’t know what has brought you out so late on a night like this, but I was just thinking that I must call on you tomorrow.”

“About my father’s work?”

“Of course. Let me have your cloak and gloves, dear girl. You didn’t come alone, did you?”

“No. My maid is in the coach, waiting for me, but I wanted to talk to you about something in private, so I asked her to remain with my driver.”

He took her cape off her shoulders while she untied her bonnet and removed it. She then took off her gloves but left her drawstring reticule hanging on her wrist.

Mr. Warburton laid her gloves, cape, and bonnet on a chair and said, “We shouldn’t be too long. Why don’t you come with me into my laboratory? It’s quiet in there. We’ll have complete privacy. That’s where I have your father’s papers. I was going over some of them again when my housekeeper told me you were at the door.”

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that the reason you wanted to talk to me is because you have found the formula,” she said as they walked down the corridor toward the back of the house.

“Found it, no, no,” he said, glancing back at her. “But that is what I wanted to talk with you about.”

He opened the door, stepped aside, and allowed her to enter ahead of him. She walked into a rather large, well-lit room, but the first thing she noticed was that there were no windows. For a moment, she was reminded of the ship, and a sudden fear gripped her. She had never wanted to be in a room without windows again.

Arianna took a deep breath and tamped down those irrational feelings. Except for the lack of windows, Mr. Warburton’s laboratory looked much like her father’s had and nothing like the small room she and Beabe shared on the ship.

On one wall was a series of counters and shelving lined with varying sizes of jars, bottles, and vials, all holding different amounts of substances. Some looked to be filled with plants or herbs, while others contained clear and lightly colored liquids. On the back wall stood a desk littered with papers, her father’s journals, and more containers of liquids and what looked like jars of dried leaves. It surprised her to see some loose papers scattered on the floor around the desk.

“Now tell me what brought you here,” Mr. Warburton said.

The papers looked like her father’s work. Arianna walked over to the desk and started picking up those that were on the floor.

“I’m sorry about that,” Mr. Warburton said, helping her gather the last few sheets of foolscap. “I’m afraid I’m a careless old fool at times.”

“I understand.” She stacked the papers neatly on the desk.

Shaking off the unsettling feelings that didn’t seem to want to go away, she said, “I came here at this late hour because I heard on very good authority that Mr. Rajaratnum is in London, and I wanted to warn you that he might try to contact you. He is a dangerous man, and I feared for your safety. If he had any idea you were trying to find or even reconstruct the formula for me, I’m sure he would do anything to stop you.”

Mr. Warburton waved his hand dismissively. “The problem I have is that I’ve been unable to find your father’s formula. Not even a part of it. I can only believe that you failed to give me all of your father’s writings.”

“No, I kept nothing.”

He shook his head. “Perhaps he wrote in a book that you didn’t know about, and it’s now just sitting on your bookshelf.”

Arianna’s hands gripped into fists at her sides. It was frustrating when he talked to her as if she were a child. “Mr. Warburton, nothing is more important to me than finding that formula and turning it in to the Royal Apothecary Scientific Academy. I can assure you I gave you everything my father had ever written on.”

“But you must have it somewhere, because it’s not here,” he stated flatly.

His sudden, quarrelsome manner stunned her, and for some reason she couldn’t shake that feeling of uneasiness.

“Tell me again exactly what he told you about how you could find the formula, because I find it difficult to believe that out of all this—” His hand swept over the desk. “—I can’t find anything that even remotely resembles a formula that will cure consumption.”

She gasped.

“You must have forgotten something,” he said feverishly.

“But I haven’t,” she said, jerking her hands to her waist, her drawstring reticule dangling loosely from her wrist. “I know it has to be there. You’ve just missed it.”

“No, Miss Sweet, I have not. You have it somewhere.”

“You can’t really think that,” she said, suddenly confused by his insistence. “I want my father to get recognition for what he discovered. I want the medicine to be available to help people who are sick. Why would I keep it from you?”

“Then you are going to have to come up with something better than the drivel your father has written thus far, because there is no formula that could possibly cure consumption in this jumble of papers you gave to me.”

Arianna’s shoulders lifted at his shocking words. “Drivel? Did you call my father’s writings drivel? Is that what his life’s work means to you?”

“Yes. That is exactly what this is.”

Waves of indignation shook her. “In that case, sir, I will not bother you further. I will collect all of his papers and journals right now and take them home with me.”

“Good evening, Miss Sweet.”

Arianna’s blood ran cold, and chills prickled over her skin at the accented voice that came from behind her. She twirled to see Mr. Rajaratnum stepping inside the laboratory, a diabolical smile on his thin lips. He gently closed the door and turned a key in the lock.

She gasped.

He dropped the key into the pocket of his coat.

As she looked at the dark-haired man with the smirk on his face, fear rose up in her chest and throat. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

She was looking straight into the eyes of the man who had killed her father. She had an overpowering impulse to rush him, hit him, choke him with her bare hands, hurt him in some way, but just before she leapt toward him, she remembered that it was a misguided impulse that brought her to this point. There was nothing but folly in trying to attack a man twice her size. She needed to stay still and think.

Her gaze flew to Mr. Warburton. He gave her a cold, calculating smile.

Something was very wrong. Another chill peppered her body.

“You see, Miss Sweet, I have been working with Rajaratnum since the first time I visited with your father in India.”

“No,” she whispered, knowing she hadn’t misunderstood him but not wanting to believe him. “You were my father’s friend!”

He shook his head.

An anguished gasp passed her lips. Her ears started ringing, and her chest tightened in disbelief. She suddenly felt as if she might faint, but that she could not allow herself to do.

She would not let these evil men win!

Taking in a large, gulping breath, she tried to think. She was locked in a room with the
bure log
who had planned and carried out her father’s murder.

What could she do?

“Oh, yes, I knew your father was on to something,” Mr. Warburton said. “I was certain it would take a lot of research on his part, and I was content to bide my time and allow him. I knew Rajaratnum would bring the formula to me when it was ready. But this is the problem. The journal your father always said the formula was in, the one Rajaratnum took from him the day of his demise, doesn’t have the formula.” Mr. Warburton walked closer to her. “You still have it, and I want it.”

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