At the Highwayman's Pleasure (24 page)

‘I love you, Ross. That is all that matters for now. Let us leave everything else until the morning.’

‘Gladly, but...’ He touched her lips with his own, a soft, gentle caress. ‘I will not presume... That is, if you would rather sleep in here?’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes.’

She slipped her arms about his neck. ‘I never want to sleep alone again.’

With something between a groan and a growl he swept her up and carried her the short distance to his bedroom. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder while the thought of what was to come filled her body with a thrilling anticipation. When he laid her gently on the bed she clung to him, pulling him down to cover his face with hot, fervent kisses, which he returned with a passion.

His hands stroked over her body, but when they became entangled in her heavy cloak she was as eager as he to shed the encumbrance. He bade her lie still while he untied her cloak and then wrestled with the ribbons around the neck of her gown.

‘But this is foolish,’ she told him, her voice trembling between laughter and delight as his fingers danced across her breast. ‘I shall still have to get up to remove my clothes.’

‘Quiet,’ he growled.

She lay very still as he gently peeled away her bodice to reveal the twin mounds of her breasts rising above her corset. Under his hot gaze the nipples seemed to strain against the chemise, and when his fingers pushed aside the thin covering they became achingly hard. She gave a low moan as his mouth closed over one hot tip and her body arched when his tongue circled the nub and drew a response from deep within her body. She was burning with need; the layers of clothing irritated her tingling skin. She tore open Ross’s shirt and slid her hands inside, running them over the solid contours of his chest, exulting when she felt his nipples harden beneath her fingers. She played with them as he had done with her, circling, gently pinching until he broke off from the delicious torment he was inflicting upon her breast.

‘What are you doing to me?’

His groan elicited nothing more than a gurgle of laughter from Charity.

‘Giving you your own medicine,’ she murmured, pushing herself up. ‘Let us get out of these clothes, Ross. I want to hold you properly.’

‘I hope you will hold me most improperly,’ he murmured, sending the heat rushing through her once again, but most especially it pooled between her thighs, reminding her of the sweet, sensual caresses he had bestowed upon her once before.

They slipped off the bed and scrabbled out of their clothes, Charity only pausing when Ross stripped away his breeches and stood before her, lean and muscled, his arousal all too obvious in the pale light of the early dawn. She stepped back and felt the edge of the bed behind her. She slid up onto the covers and began to move back until Ross stopped her, his hands on her ankles. Obedient to the gentle pressure, her legs parted. Ross dropped to his knees and pulled her towards him, settling a knee over each shoulder and leaning forward to kiss the tangle of curls at her groin.

‘Ross! Don’t...’

Her words trailed away as his tongue flickered over her, licking and kissing until she was writhing, wanting him to go farther, deeper. His fingers joined the incessant pleasuring until she could bear it no longer. Waves of pleasure were building inside her, rippling through her until she shuddered, arched and cried out, her arms thrown wide, hands gripping the covers.

Ross eased her onto the bed and stretched out beside her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her until the pulsing, throbbing convulsions had eased.

‘Oh, I did not know,’ she sobbed into his shoulder. ‘I thought the first time was ecstasy, but this—’

‘I am glad,’ he murmured.

When he tried to pull her closer, she resisted.

‘But you, Ross, you haven’t—’

‘Hush.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘There is time yet.’

She gave a shaky little laugh.

‘I don’t think I could...’

‘Patience.’ He silenced her with a kiss and settled her more comfortably in his arms, but one hand was stroking her thigh. It was a slow, gentle movement, but instead of lulling her into sleep she felt her body waking, the need growing in her again. She stirred restlessly and as the slow, sensual stroking continued, her body pressed against Ross. He began to kiss her face, leaving a trail of burning kisses over her cheeks and throat before turning his attention to her ear, where his tongue ran around the shell-like contours, teasing her into full arousal.

Charity wrapped herself around him and he gently rolled her onto her back, kissing her with a slow thoroughness that seemed to draw out the very heart of her. Her body was softening and she opened to him, inviting him in. He eased himself between her thighs and slid into her, moving with long, slow caresses that drew a rippling response she could not control. He took her mouth again, the rasp of his tongue mirroring those other slow, unhurried movements and driving her beyond reason. She was on fire, her body no longer her own as it matched his rhythm. He was thrusting deeper into her, deeper, harder, and she felt as if she was flying, arching and bucking beneath him as her body responded to his urgent demands.

It was too much; she bit her lip to stop herself screaming with the sheer joy of it as Ross gave an exultant shout and with a final, earth-shattering thrust took them over the edge and they clung together, suspended in time and space until at last the spasm passed and they collapsed together onto the bed, gasping, laughing and crying all at once.

They lay together, side by side, hand in hand.

Charity gave a long sigh.

‘That was...wonderful!’

He chuckled. ‘And it will be better still, with practice.’

‘Will it?’ she asked him, wonder in her voice. ‘Will it really?’

‘Yes, really!’ He laughed and rolled over to pull her into his arms. ‘Oh, my love, there is so much I want to share with you, and not just the delights of the bedroom. I would like to take you to sea with me as my wife, to show you the wonder of a full moon sailing high over the water, to let you hear the wind keening through the rigging, taste the salt spray on your face—but of course if you do not care for the sea then we can make our home here, or anywhere you wish—’

She struggled and immediately he released her and fell back on the covers. She raised herself up on one elbow and stared down at him.

‘You are smiling.’

The curve of his lips stretched into a full-blown grin.

‘I have so much to smile about.’

She bent and kissed him. ‘Being happy suits you,’ she said softly. ‘I like to hear you laugh.’

‘Then you shall hear it a great deal. But not just now.’ He pulled her down beside him and settled her in his arms. ‘Sleep now.’

* * *

Ross woke with the sun streaming through the window, hot on his naked body as he lay sprawled on the covers. He was immediately aware that he was alone and he sat up, stretching. Charity was kneeling on the window seat, wrapped in his banyan. She had her back to him and her thick hair cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall. He wanted to go over to her and let those heavy silk tresses run through his fingers, but something wasn’t right. Something in her stillness, the slight droop of her shoulders, alarmed him. Tentatively he called her name.

When she did not move he slipped off the bed and went over to sit beside her.

‘What is it, love?’

She turned to him and he saw the traces of tears on her face.

‘Oh, Ross, I c-can’t marry you.’

An ice-cold hand clutched his heart and squeezed it, hard.

‘May I enquire why not?’ He kept his voice calm, while fear made the blood pound in his ears. ‘Do you find you don’t love me after all?’

She averted her face.

‘I do love you,’ she muttered in a strangled voice. ‘I love you too much to marry you.’ She turned to him again, fresh tears turning her eyes the colour of polished sapphires. ‘Do you not see how wrong it would be for me to marry you? My father—’

He bit back an oath. He should have known Phineas would be behind this!

‘Yesterday you said you no longer feared him.’

‘And it’s true, but he is still my father.’ The tears sparkled on her lashes. ‘I am a traitor’s daughter, Ross—if you marry me then you will be tainted, too. People would talk behind their hands about you. They might even question your loyalty.’

‘Not when it is known that you helped to bring Weston to justice.’

‘And th-that is another reason I c-cannot marry you.’ Her voice trembled pitifully. ‘What would everyone think of a daughter who would send her own father to the gallows?’ She used the edge of the sleeve to wipe her cheeks. ‘I thought I did not care what became of him, but it’s not true, Ross. I was happy to think I need never see him again, that he would disappear from my life and not do any more harm to anyone, but when you were sleeping it came to me that the only way that is going to happen is for him to d-die, and whatever he has done to me I do not want that, Ross. I don’t want to see him hang.’

But I do!
thought Ross furiously.
Not for the injustice he has done to me, nor his treachery to England, but for the misery he has inflicted upon you, my love
.

He clenched his jaw, determined not to utter the words, knowing they would cause her more distress. He reached for her, but she gave a little shake of her head and waved him away. A cloud covered the sun and the sudden chill reminded him that he was naked.

He rose, saying carefully, ‘We will talk about this more after we have dressed and broken our fast.’

When she did not respond he put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before collecting up his clothes and dressing silently.

* * *

Charity sank deeper into her despair. He had not argued with her, had made no attempt to dissuade her, so he must agree, now that he had had time to reflect upon it, that she would not make him a suitable wife. Peeping through her lashes, she saw that Ross had retreated to the far side of the bed. She must be sensible and get away from here with as little hurt as possible, to either of them.

* * *

When Ross asked her if she needed help with her clothes, she said no and he went off to the kitchen to wait for her. She was relieved when she joined him a short while later to find that he was alone.

He was studying a sheet of paper, but when she came in he put it down.

‘Mrs Cummings has shopping to do, so I sent her off with Jed. We will serve ourselves with breakfast.’

He waved an arm towards the table, which was covered with dishes, a raised pie, plates of ham and beef, fresh bread rolls and a dish of butter. Charity sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot near her elbow. Sensible, controlled. She could do this.

‘I have been thinking what I might do for my father. I wonder if I should use some of my fortune to help him.’

‘Do you want to do that?’

‘No, of course not, but— Oh, Ross, when all is said and done, he is my father.’

‘And a most unnatural one, to cause you so much misery.’ He frowned across the table at her. ‘He would have ruined your life without a second thought.’

‘But I am not like him. I am not vengeful.’

‘So you would be happy to see Hannah and Phineas walk free after all they have done.’

‘Yes—no.’ She shrugged unhappily. ‘I do not want them executed.’ She dropped her head in her hands. ‘I feel like a murderess.’

‘Well, you need not.’

Something in his tone made her look up. There was a smile glinting in his dark eyes. He picked up the paper.

‘This has just arrived from Captain Armstrong. Phineas and Hannah, er, escaped last night.’

Charity jerked upright, one hand knocking her knife and sending it clattering to the floor.

‘What?’

The smile grew, but he kept his eyes on the paper.

‘Yes, it seems they managed to get to the coast and escaped to France.’

His tone was perfectly serious, but she was not fooled and said sharply, ‘Ross—just what is this? Captain Armstrong was taking them to York.’

He looked at her then and she could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

‘I know, but I had a word with him before we left Beringham last night and we, er, changed the plans.’

‘But—but how could you? Ross, that is dreadful. Won’t you— Won’t he be in the most terrible trouble?’

‘Well, that’s just it. You see, he had already told me that the man they arrested in Yarmouth has friends in very high places who would be, shall we say,
embarrassed
if his part in this spy ring came out. The Admiralty were keen to hush up his part in it, so they can hardly complain if Phineas escapes justice, too.’

He saw that she was staring at him and laughed.

‘John took Hannah and Phineas to the coast, where they were put aboard a small sloop along with an armed guard, who would make sure they were put ashore on the French coast. Phineas is so keen on Bonaparte’s rule that he might as well live under it—although as an Englishman he might not find them as tolerant and friendly as he imagines.’ Ross sat back in his chair, grinning at her. ‘No, I think he and Hannah will have a very uncomfortable time of it, but Armstrong has made it very clear to them that if they show their faces in this country again they will regret it.’

‘But what about your prize money? If Hannah is not here to stand trial...’

He shrugged. ‘I will have to live without it.’

She looked at him, her heart swelling with so much love and gratitude that she thought it would burst.

‘You would let it go, let her go free, for my sake?’

‘It is not such a big thing. Better to let her go with her husband and make his life a misery.’ The smile that she had seen on his face almost constantly since yesterday appeared again. ‘After all, I can’t have my father-in-law dragged through a hideous court case.’

‘Oh, Ross....’ Her lip quivered. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say you will marry me. Armstrong tells me there is a substantial reward on its way, which should help in restoring Wheelston to its former glory, but in truth, my love, the only reward I want is you for my wife.’