Anne Barbour (33 page)

His hands cupped her face and very gently, he kissed her, first on one cheek and then the other, and then, at last on her lips.

As before, his touch sent swirls of shocked pleasure shooting through her, and she leaned into him. His only response was yet another tender, gentle kiss on her mouth. Dear Lord, he was actually restraining himself! He was trying to prove his honorable intentions.

Suddenly, her doubts fled, and her veins fairly sizzled with the happiness that surged through her. He loved her! He loved plain Hester Blayne and no other.

She chuckled breathlessly. “My lord earl, has no one ever taught you how to make love to a woman?”

Reaching up, she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him to her. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him long and passionately. After several moments, Thorne drew back. He gazed at her in momentary surprise before his eyes lit with an incredulous joy. Pulling her toward him, he brought his mouth down ruthlessly on hers. A shudder of response swept through her and she opened herself to him. An overwhelming gladness swept over her in great, pulsing waves.

“Oh, my darling,” she gasped, some moments later. “I am not sure I know what love is either, but surely this must be a good start.”

* * * *

It was some minutes later before the curricle was put into motion again. When Hester and Thorne reached Bythorne House, they found the others waiting to greet them. Among them, in the entry hall, stood the gentleman who had made himself so conspicuous by his absence earlier at the Blue Boar.

“Why, Trevor!” said Hester in some surprise. “Whatever happened to you?”

“As I have been explaining,” began Mr. Bentham, “I thought it expedient to leave the tavern when those thugs began their agitating. It was necessary for someone to go for help, after all. No, no—it is not necessary to thank me,” he concluded, holding up a hand. “I was happy to do my duty. I have since discovered that the police arrived in good time.”

John Wery snorted. “Yes, we’re all safe and sound—no thanks to you.”

“I, of course,” continued Trevor as though he had not heard, “made all speed here to Bythorne House to assure myself that you had escaped any harm.”

“How very thoughtful of you, Trevor,” said Hester dryly.

“Yes, indeed, Bentham.” Thorne stepped forward, placing his arm about Hester’s shoulders. “And now that you have done so, you will no doubt wish to be on your way. Your mother will be worried.”

Trevor stiffened. His face darkened as Hester turned to smile up into the earl’s face, and when Thorne dropped a kiss on Hester’s cheek, his eyes glittered with rage.

“Now, see here—

He was interrupted by a delighted trill from Gussie.

“Hester! Thorne! Oh, my dears, it is true? Have you—?”

“Yes, Gussie,” replied Thorne. “You may wish us happy— at last.”

At this, everyone clustered about the pair, vociferous in their congratulations. Trevor stood apart in an appalled silence, his face pale, his demeanor shaken.

Hester, noticing him at last, experienced a pang of compunction and put out a hand to him.

“I trust you will wish me happy, as well, Trevor?” she asked, smiling.

Trevor, however, did not return the smile.

“I see how it is,” he said portentously. “You have chosen to abandon the path you and I chose for you so many years ago. You have decided to place worldly considerations above—

“The path you and I chose?” gasped Hester incredulously. “Trevor, you do not seriously believe you influenced me in my—”

“What I believe,” interposed Thorne smoothly, “is that it is time for Mr. Bentham to make his departure.”

Trevor’s fists clenched, but, though Thorne gazed mildly at him, there was that in his expression that evidently gave Trevor pause. Reaching for his hat and walking stick, he inclined his head.

“I agree, my lord.” He bowed over Hester’s hand. “I do wish you happy, my dear, although—” He sucked in a breath and clamped his lips shut, prudence overcoming his desire to have the last word. Whirling, he stalked from the house, his heels clicking on the polished parquetry floor of the entry hall.

“Well!” breathed Chloe before breaking into a giggle.

“Well, indeed,” murmured Thorne.

The hour being late, it was not long before the party broke up. Lord and Lady Bracken being the first to depart. Gussie bustled from the house, arm in arm with her husband, her tongue busy with plans for yet another wedding. John, with some difficulty was pried from Chloe’s side, and the young miss drifted up the stairs in dreamy contemplation of her future, Aunt Lavinia by her side.

“I think we should seek our beds, as well,” said Hester as she and Thorne stood alone at the foot of the stairway.”

“What a splendid idea,” replied Thorne, grinning. “Ah, but you did say ‘beds,’ as in the plural, didn’t you?” He sighed. “Very well, I am willing to abide by the proprieties, for the time being.”

He caught her in his arms. “My dear Miss Blayne,” he whispered, “you are my abiding treasure, and you have made me very happy.” He held her away from him in his arms for a moment, scrutinizing her face. “You are sure now, are you not, my love—my dearest love?”

Hester smiled mistily, happiness once more welling within her. “Oh yes, Thorne. Neither of us is without flaws, but oh, what a good time we are going to have reforming each other!”

“You.” murmured her beloved, “have a one-track mind. Perhaps, just for the moment, we could shelve the topic of Reform.”

“Yes, my love,” said Miss Blayne meekly, lifting her face to his.

Copyright © 1996 by Barbara Yirka

Originally published by Signet  (ISBN 0451190483)

Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.