Faith (21 page)

Faith pressed her lips together and squared her shoulders. “You…are vile,” she said through clenched teeth, her tone laced with contempt. “But I’ll go willingly. For now.”

“Then smile, Lady Roth. We’ll go say our good-byes.” Gareth stepped aside to allow her to pass before following her back inside.

Unseen by either the marquess or the marchioness, Horatio Grimsby stepped out of the shadows and watched them go, his eyes narrowed on Gareth’s back.

Thirty-three

T
hough it was not a great distance from the ball to Gareth’s town house, the usual snarl of evening traffic made the ride uncomfortably long. Faith and Gareth rode in silence, their eyes averted, looking anywhere but at one another. A couple of times Gareth cleared his throat as though he intended to say something. Faith jumped in reaction the first time. The second, she merely blinked and looked out the window.

At home, Gareth exited the coach and reached in to politely help Faith disembark. She took his hand and gracefully descended, then allowed him to escort her up the stairs and through the door the butler had opened when he heard the vehicle arrive. Faith surrendered her wrap without a word and stood waiting for him to indicate what would happen next.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Gareth guided her through the foyer to the curving staircase.

“Where are we going?” Faith asked.

“My chamber.”

Faith stopped halfway up the stairs. “I do not wish to be alone with you.”

Gareth raised a brow. “And I do not wish to have the servants overhear our discussion.”

She frowned. His words made perfect sense. Still…“Surely there is somewhere else we can go and not be overheard.” She took another step, compelled by the pressure of his hand on her back. “The gardens, perhaps,” she offered.

Gareth made a face at this reminder that although she was his wife, she had never been to his home here in Town. “There is no garden here, Faith. I rather thought that might be something you’d take an interest in developing.”

Faith’s heart wrenched. The thought of being given a free hand to create something beautiful here, to make this her home as well as his in every way, was something she would have dearly loved. Distracted by such thoughts, she resumed climbing the stairs and allowed Gareth to guide her down the carpeted hall to his chamber.

Once inside, he closed the doors and turned to face her. “I’m willing to listen to your explanation now, Faith.”

Instantly, all her little domestic imaginings fled, replaced by the same weary anger she’d harbored since she’d left Rothmere. She lifted her chin and looked back at him in resignation. “I have no idea what you wish me to say, my lord.”

“You could begin by telling me why.”

She shook her head. “I cannot give you an explanation for something that does not exist. Nor do I wish to defend myself against unfounded accusations.”

“You’ve never denied the accusation.”

“There is nothing to deny.”

Gareth stared at her a long moment, then shook his head. “What do you propose we do, then, princess?”

Faith took a deep breath. “I’d like to go home to Pelthamshire. To stay.”

He narrowed his eyes. “It is your intention to let our marriage simply stagnate? You live your life while I live mine?”

His voice was dangerously soft, and Faith felt the underlying anger in each of his few words. Still, she plunged recklessly ahead, her voice only trembling a little. “I’d be perfectly willing to look the other way, my lord, should you decide to take a mistress.”

His anger, simmering just below the surface, abruptly reached the boiling point. Gareth took a step toward her. “Wouldn’t that be nice for you, princess?” His voice was nearly a snarl. “You could keep your lover and soothe your guilt at denying me an heir with the fact that I’ve also taken a lover.”

Faith said nothing, but two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks, and her hands balled into little fists at her sides. She resisted the urge to retreat when he took another step forward.

“You still do not deny it?” He reached out, grasping her chin in his hand.

She gasped in fearful reaction, but met his eyes bravely. “You have no proof.”

At her words, Gareth smiled. Slowly, angrily. “Proof,” he repeated. “You’ve denied me that, too, haven’t you?” But proof he could get…and easily. He remembered the way she’d responded to him in the caretaker’s cottage and knew he could evoke that response again, especially if she didn’t see it coming.

Deliberately, he released her chin but did not remove his hand, sliding it instead to softly cup her cheek.

Faith flinched at the sudden gentling of her husband’s touch. She caught her breath, tried to keep her eyes on his, then closed them, afraid he’d see the sudden uncertainty she felt. Her heart fluttered a bit before it began pounding so hard she was sure he would hear. “What are you doing?”

“Faith…”

Her eyes flew open at the soft sound of her name on his lips. “M-my lord?” She hated the breathy quality of her voice, hated the way the floor was tilting away beneath her, hated the fact that she needed to reach out just now and place her hand on his chest to keep her balance.

He covered that hand with his, began stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’m going to kiss you,” he warned, and stepped closer.

“No!” she protested, but the sound was cut off as he took her face between both of his hands and bent forward to capture her lips with his. A small, soft noise, almost a whimper, escaped her throat as she struggled one last time to gain control.

The struggle was short. His scent assailed her, made it impossible for her to think. All she could do was react and follow her instincts. With a sigh, she melted against him, slid her hands around his chest, and tilted her head back. She kissed him in return, her lips melting into his, everything else falling away. She kissed him further, pouring into that kiss all her hopes and dreams that their marriage could be one of love and gentle beauty. She kissed him back, not knowing what she evoked.

Gareth gathered her close, slid one hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, and slipped his tongue along the crease between her lips. Immediately, she parted them for him.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Kiss me, princess. Just like that.”

Softly, shyly, her tongue met his. Gareth moaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging inside her mouth, tasting her, coaxing a response. Without breaking the kiss, he swept her up in his arms and walked with her to the bed.

“Gareth?” She whispered his name uncertainly when he trailed his lips across her cheek while settling her against the pillows. His hands fell away a moment, and she whimpered a little. The loss of contact was fleeting, though, and her fears vanished when he joined her on the bed and stretched out beside her.

Softly he smoothed back the hair that had fallen across her cheek. “So beautiful,” he murmured. His passion-dark eyes caught and held hers, and she saw that he meant it. She turned toward him, nuzzling her cheek against his shirt. He moved his hand from her face and settled it, heavy and warm, on her rib cage. Tenderly, he kissed the top of her golden head, knowing that although he’d set out with the intention to seduce her, he had now become, through her innocent, unknowing responses, the one seduced.

“Faith, listen to me.”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing softly against his chest.

“I’ll not do this without your agreement.” She became still, held her breath. “I need you to release me from the promise I made to your sister.”

Faith bit into her lower lip and tried to think, but it was hard, so hard, when she was pressed up against him like this, when she could breathe him in, when she could draw from his warmth and from his strength. The loneliness she’d felt since they first quarreled was receding, and she didn’t want it back, didn’t ever want to feel that yawning emptiness again. And yet…

“I’m scared,” she whispered in a small voice.

Gareth’s heart slammed into his ribs. He forgot, utterly forgot, that she’d betrayed him, lied to him, and forsaken her vows. In that instant, all he wanted in all the world was to protect her, to make this one beautiful girl feel safe from everything, even from him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice husky. He pulled back a little. “Look at me.”

Faith lifted her face, her gray eyes luminous with vulnerability.

“We have now,” he said. “And we have forever.” He paused, searching for words that weren’t jarring or hurtful. “We can’t change what we’ve done and said to one another. We can only try to let it go…if you would like.”

Slowly, she nodded. She opened her mouth to say the words that would release him from his promise, then stopped. “Will we—?” She halted in midquestion, lifted her hand, and placed her trembling fingers softly on his lips. “Yes,” she murmured, answering her own unfinished question, then added, “Yes,
please.
”

Gareth groaned and kissed her fingertips, then took her lips again in a long, drugging kiss that chased away her fears and banished any remaining doubt. His mouth left hers to travel over her chin, blazing a path of sensation down the slim column of her neck to her collarbone. He ran his lips along it, reveling in the feel of her soft skin over the deceptive strength of that delicate bone.

Faith gasped in pure pleasure, felt liquid heat uncurl from the center of her being and blossom outward in waves of engulfing sensation. Every inch of her felt alive. Her skin tingled with awareness, thirsty to be touched. Her hands almost ached with the need to touch him, a need she knew he shared.

She felt Gareth slide a hand up her torso, pause a bare second, and continue, the movement of his fingers finally ceasing as they curved lightly around and caressed her breast. She arched her back, lifting that sensitive mound more firmly into his cupped palm.

Gareth felt his wife’s nipple rise proudly and press into the center of his hand through the fabric of her gown, and he knew he could wait no longer. He needed to feel her skin against his, needed to find all her secret, sensitive places with his hands—and with his lips and with his tongue.

Impatient, he tugged at her bodice, pulling the delicate fabric down until one creamy breast slipped free. He dipped his head and caught the dusky pink tip in his mouth. Faith cried out softly, a sweet sound in reaction that crept into his awareness and strengthened his arousal. He released her nipple, gave it one last lick, and raised his head.

“I want to see you. All of you.” His voice was hoarse with desire, rough with aching need.

Faith opened her eyes slightly, smiled a little. “Now?” It wasn’t really a question. She’d never felt so warm, so languid, and she didn’t want this to ever end. Her husband’s hands moved deftly, skillfully divesting her of her gown, her chemise, and her stockings. He rained kisses on every bit of her flesh as he exposed it, coaxing her more deeply into the magic they’d begun to create.

When he’d freed her of her garments, he stood smiling down at her as he began to remove his own clothing. Faith curled on her side and watched him, her eyes filled with wonder. She’d seen him nude, briefly, the night they were married, and had looked away, embarrassed. She wanted none of that this time, nothing hidden or wrong between them.

When he returned to the bed, he smoothed a hand down her side and eased her onto her back. His hands roved softly over her flesh. “I love touching you, princess,” he whispered, a note of awe in his voice. “You’re so fair where I’m dark.” He splayed his fingers wide on her tummy. “The contrast between my skin and yours is beautiful.”

In answer, Faith placed her hand in the center of his chest and nodded. The crisp hair tickled the vees formed at the junctures of her fingers and made her smile. That smile faded into a look of surprise as Gareth slowly slid his hand lower. Instinctively, she moved to close her legs, then stopped and forced herself to relax.

And then she couldn’t think at all. He touched her, his hands sliding down and inside and over her slick folds until she was writhing in pleasure, awash in feelings she hadn’t known existed. His fingers danced and brought her to the edge of…
The edge of what?
she wondered.

He stopped and stroked her softly, watching her face, waiting for the beginning of that sweet explosion. When she was almost there, he stopped and watched some more. She calmed, slipped back away from the edge. She opened her lips to ask him questions, but he began again, this time taking her up and over until she cried out, her world spinning and fluttering and turning inside out.

Finally, Faith settled and opened her eyes to find him watching her, a small smile playing about his mouth. He laced his fingers through hers and said, “I want to make love to you.”

Faith nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Gareth placed her hand on him, wrapped her fingers around the hard evidence of his arousal. Her eyes filled with wonder, and she reveled in the freedom he allowed as her fingers roved over his flesh.

“It’s like rose petals over marble,” she whispered, then blushed and bit her lip. She looked up at him, trying to assess his reaction, and caught her breath. His brown eyes smoldered from beneath half-closed lids, passion and need sparking in their chocolate depths. She stroked him once and then again, until he growled her name and arched into her next stroke.

Gareth endured it all a few moments longer, fighting to control the urge to take her, to sheathe himself inside her and fill her with his seed. He forced himself to savor the maddening sensation of her fingers on him, innocently stoking fires she did not understand, until he could take it no longer. He sat up and took her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, bearing her back down on the bed beneath him. “Now, princess,” he whispered, his voice tight with insistent, aching need.

Gently, he pushed her back into the pillows and settled himself between her legs, his hardness poised at the entrance to her body. He captured her eyes with his, allowed himself to fall into their trusting, silvery depths and then thrust once, plunging deep inside her body.

Faith’s face contorted and she cried out, a sharp, pained sound.

Gareth held himself rigid and still, then closed his eyes and threw his head back. The muscles in his neck stood out taut, his face a mask of tortured recrimination.
“Oh, my God!”
he breathed, then forced himself to look at the girl who lay shocked and unmoving beneath him. Carefully, he eased himself to the bed next to her, still joined to her body, and gathered her into his arms.