Candice Hern (76 page)

There was no other woman to take her place.

After a moment, he sat bolt upright, slapped his thigh, and let out a crack of laughter. Of course!
There was no other woman to take her place.
Because no other woman could. Because Meg was the one. He had known that for some time now. It was her own feelings that were still a mystery to him. He had wanted to make sure she returned his regard before proceeding to a more formal courtship. But there was no time for courtship now. He was leaving tomorrow.

A knock on the door was followed by the appearance of Pargeter. "You sent for me, my lord?"

"Yes, Pargeter. We will be leaving in the morning. I need you to start organizing the packing."

"Yes, my lord."

And I will start preparing what to say to Sir Terrence when I ask for permission to marry his sister.

* * *

Meg sat at her brother's desk in the library, her head bent over pages and pages of Thornhill's breeding charts. Several mares had begun their breeding cycle, and Terrence had asked her to review the bloodlines in anticipation of the best pairings.

A knock at the door intruded on her concentration. "Yes? Come in."

She looked up in surprise to see Sedge trudge into the room. He stopped short when he saw her.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I—I was looking for Sir Terrence." He sounded uncharacteristically sheepish and Meg was surprised to hear him stammer. It was not like the gregarious viscount.

"I am sorry, Sedge, but he went out early to exercise Blue Blazes. He should be back within the hour. Can I help you with anything?"

If she did not know better, she would have said Sedge actually blushed. But it must be just a trick of the morning light. The central pane in each window included a colored depiction of the Ashburton coat of arms. A bit of red glass no doubt reflected off his face.

"Uh, no, no. I will w-wait for him to return." He looked down at the Turkey carpet and did not meet her eyes.

Why was he suddenly so shy and awkward with her? Was he perhaps remembering that incident on the landing, when he had almost kissed her?

She felt the heat of a blush color her own cheeks.

"I must speak with him," Sedge continued. "I wanted to do so last night, but with his friend Mr. Hawksworthy present... well, it just did not seem the right time."

"Mr. Hawksworthy is a neighbor, as you know," Meg said. "He often takes dinner with us. I am sure he would have understood if you wanted to be private with Terrence."

"Yes. Well, now it seems I must wait." Sedge took another step further into the room. "You see, my cousin and I are leaving this morning."

Oh, God. It was true, then. He was leaving. She had heard several of the servants whispering of furious packing and organizing, and so knew he must be planning to depart Thornhill. But she had not expected it to be so soon. Not today. Not this very morning.

"I wanted to thank your brother for his hospitality," Sedge continued. "And all of you for your kindness and generosity." He took another step closer. "Especially you, Meg."

She found herself captivated once more by those blue eyes, and almost without realizing what she did, she rose from her chair to stand in front of him.

He was leaving. He was really leaving.

"You saved my life, Meg," he said. "More than once. I wanted to thank you, and your grandmother, for nursing me back to health, and for being such good companions during my convalescence." He chuckled softly. "I am sure I would have been bored to pieces without your company, Meg."

She took a step toward Sedge. Good Lord, how was she to endure this? "No need for thanks," she said, for she had to say something, even if she could not say what was in her heart. "Anyone would have done as much."

"No," Sedge said as he took a step closer. "You, and your family, have done more than anyone has a right to expect from virtual strangers."

He was saying good-bye. She might never see him again. She did not know if she could bear it

"You never seemed a stranger," she said.

"Nor did you," he said.

"Are you returning to London?"

"Yes." He smiled softly—not the usual broad grin, but something more intimate. "Do you think you might like to come to Town for the Season this year?"

Meg laughed at such an absurd notion. "I have not been to Town for six years. I do not believe I care to subject myself to that kind of scorn and ridicule again."

"Oh, I think I can assure you that things would be different for you this time, Meg." He smiled into her eyes, and Meg's knees felt as if they had turned to jelly. "After all, you are no longer the skinny, shy schoolgirl of six years ago." He took another step closer. "You are a stunningly beautiful woman, Meg. You will set the
ton
on its ear."

Yet another blush warmed her face. But she could not turn away. She could not tear her eyes from his, now only inches away. "I wish I had your confidence, my lord."

"Will you come to Town, Meg?"

"I don't know."

"Please."

"But I know so few people in Town."

"I will be there," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. You."

Meg was only vaguely aware of the sound of his crutches crashing to the floor as he gathered her in his arms.

Without waiting like before, without teasing her with desire, without giving her a chance to refuse, he captured her lips with his own.

Oh, Good Lord!

His lips were gentle and light as they moved over hers in that first touch of discovery. This was not her first kiss, but it might as well have been for all the new feelings it aroused in her. His lips were so incredibly soft. She had not expected a man's lips to be so soft. How could such a light touch ignite such a fire in her? Meg leaned into him, wanting more somehow. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he responded by lowering one hand to the small of her back and pressing her closer.

Ah, but he felt good. She inched one hand up the back of his neck, and threaded her fingers through the long, blond locks. Oh, God.

Sedge lifted his mouth slightly and Meg opened her eyes to find him gazing at her with a look of such longing, she thought she might die. Terrence was wrong. She was not different. She was not without feeling. She did, after all, have desires like other women. More so. For no other woman could have ever wanted anyone as much as she wanted Sedge.

"Meg," he whispered against her lips. "Ah, Meg."

He pulled her against him more tightly as his lips descended again, this time with a crushing force that astonished Meg momentarily, before she responded with a surprising passion of her own. Opening his mouth, his tongue teased the seam of her lips. Meg shuddered slightly as she realized his mouth was compelling hers to open for him. Unfamiliar with this sort of kiss, she hesitated only briefly before shyly parting her lips. His tongue plunged in to meet hers, boldly probing her mouth with a fire and urgency totally unexpected. She followed his lead, exploring and tasting him in a way she had never imagined.

Meg knew she should stop him before he got the wrong impression, before he thought her a perfect wanton. But she completely lacked the will to do so. Perhaps she meant to prove to herself that she was not so different from other women after all. Even if she was only now discovering it for the first time.

She did not know how long they clung to one another, exploring each other's mouths, when his lips finally left hers and began to trace a fiery path down her throat and neck. She tilted her head back, encouraging his exploration, and gave an involuntary moan of pleasure. Oh, God, she had no idea it could be like this.

Something this good had to be real. It had to be. Surely he would not kiss her like this, set her body on fire like this, if he did not care for her. When his lips traveled back up to her jaw, her temple, her eyes, she ceased to doubt his feelings. He cared. He loved her. He must.

When he reclaimed her mouth, it was with a sweet gentleness flavored with such promise that Meg thought she might collapse with joy. At last, he lifted his head and looked again into her eyes. And his eyes crinkled up into a smile.

Chapter 13

"Meg, Meg. Do you know how long I have wanted to do that?"

He smiled into her eyes and rested his forehead against hers. "You have no idea, my dear, how pleasant it is to kiss a woman without having to twist my spine down to her level. It's as though you were made just for me." He kissed her softly at each corner of her mouth. "Tall and beautiful, with the most delicious lips. And eyes I can look right into as I kiss you like this. We are perfect together, Meg. Absolutely perfect."

She gave him the most dazzling smile, and his heart soared. God, how he wanted this woman. He pulled her closer, cradling her head against his neck. The clean smell of soap and wild violets tantalized him as he buried his nose in her luxurious red hair. Soon enough, he was kissing her neck, savoring the taste of her. He found a pulse point at the base of her throat and teased it with his tongue. Her racing pulse told him how much she wanted him, and even though she had not spoken a word, it was enough. He knew.

Sedge kissed her again and marveled once more at her uninhibited response as her body melted against his. Her lips were moist and parted, inviting.

He kept his weight on his good leg as best he could, but also needed the right leg for balance. The doctor would scold at his disregard for the splinted limb. But Sedge did not care. Not now. He was damned if he was going to move now.

He clasped her to his chest again and simply held her, his hand against the back of her head. He thought of all the things he wanted to say, and how to say them. He had not meant to rush his fences. He had wanted to speak to her brother first, to state his intentions formally, before saying anything to Meg.

He had planned to declare his serious and honorable interest in Meg, ask Sir Terrence's permission to pay his formal addresses, and suggest that Meg come to Town for the Season to celebrate their betrothal. He wanted to show her off, to show all of society what a treasure they had so casually overlooked.

He had been foiled in his plans last night, with Sir Terrence so obviously enjoying the company of his friend Mr. Hawksworthy. When he unexpectedly found Meg in the library this morning instead of her brother, he had been momentarily rattled.

She had looked so beautiful sitting there, with the morning sun streaming in and burnishing her coppery curls. He wished he had already spoken to Sir Terrence, for he had desired nothing more at that moment than to tell her how much he wanted her. But it wasn't right And more than anything, he wanted to do this right.

He had tried to keep to his noble plan, to speak briefly of inconsequential matters and then back out of the room and await her brother. But she was completely and utterly irresistible. Instead of backing away, he had been drawn to her as inexorably as she had been drawn to him. And he did not regret it. Oh no, he thought as he held her close, he did not regret it.

But now that he had overstepped the bounds of propriety, it no longer seemed important to speak to her brother first. That would come later. Just now, he wanted to tell her how he felt, how he loved her, how he wanted a life together with her. She must surely realize some of this already, after those kisses that had sparked a blaze of passion between them such as he had never known before. But it was important to put it all into words for her.

Only, he did not know how. He did not know how to tell her what was in his heart. He did not know how to put it into words. Women, he knew, set great store on words. Look at how they idolized that Byron fellow. But Sedge was no poet. He was a simple man, with simple feelings. And he did not know how to put them into words.

He nudged his shoulder and she lifted her head to look at him. He wished she would say something. It might make it easier. But he knew in his heart that she waited for him to speak, that it was up to him to speak first. And he wanted to do it right.

Sedge took her face in both hands and looked deep into her eyes, willing her to believe him, to trust him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound to come out was her name, over and over, like a prayer. "Meg. Meg." The words he wanted were all racing around in his head, as fast as the beating of his heart. Words of desire and love and passion and need. Disjointed and chaotic, his mind could not seem to organize them into any sort of order. When he spoke again, they came spilling out, uncontrollably.

"I want you, Meg," he said as he searched her eyes for understanding. "I want you. You obsess me. You are so beautiful. Everything about you is so beautiful." His thumbs caressed the sides of her face. "I want to let your glorious hair down and bury my face in it. I want to hold your magnificent body naked in my arms. I want to make love to you, morning and night."

Sedge watched in dismay as Meg's eyes widened in shock and confusion. Damnation. He was doing this all wrong. "Ah, Meg." He pulled her head back down on his shoulder and held her tight. "I am not very good at this, am I?" he said softly, close to her ear. "It is just that... that I want you so much! I want us to be together. I want to be with you, Meg. More than I've ever wanted to be with any other woman. I know I could make you happy. I know I could. I can give you everything you ever dreamed of. And more. I am a rich man, you know."

He thought she flinched slightly, but perhaps it was just surprise. From low in her throat came a single strained word. "Rich?"

"Oh, yes," he said, nuzzling her neck. "You need not worry about that. I can give you anything you have ever wanted. I can make you happy. I can. I know I can. I said you were perfect for me, and I meant it. More than any other woman, Meg." He rained soft kisses along her neck and ear. "We could be so good together, make such beautiful love together. I know we could. You have such a passionate nature, so much fire. Ah, Meg, my angel. I want so much for us to be together. Put me out of my misery. Say you will have me. Please, Meg."