First Season / Bride to Be (42 page)

The carriage bounced in a rut. Emily grabbed one of the leather straps to stay upright, fighting a growing sense of panic. She longed to ask Richard if he had married her against his will, but she was afraid of the answer.

* * *

Richard stood on the bit of lawn in front of his house and watched the last streaks of sunset fade in the west. This land that his stepfather had left him, which he had once thought worthless, was going to redeem all the rest. With the funds the coal brought, he would be able to pay off mortgages, improve his estates. He appreciated the irony as much as he regretted the way he had made the discovery.

The sky dimmed. Stars were winking into view, and there was a hum of insects. One of the upstairs windows turned golden with lamplight. Richard stared up at it. His wife was there, in their bedchamber. It was his wedding night.

One corner of his mouth jerked. He had never imagined that Emily would feel forced into the marriage. He had been too occupied with his own struggle over the matter, and with all the business that had to be dealt with. But he shook his head, refusing the easy excuse. He could have found time to talk with her.

When she had said they had to marry, he had resented it. Why should he be so astonished, or angry, if she felt the same? He had known she wasn't like other women. His mouth jerked again. There was no one like her. If he hadn't been such a fool…

Above his head, the casement opened. Looking up, he saw Emily sitting in the window, the lamp throwing a golden aureole around her. Her hair was down, falling over her shoulders like liquid fire. She wore a pale nightdress that left her neck and arms bare. A mixture of desire and tenderness burned in his chest.

She was looking upward. Suddenly, she raised a hand as if startled. Following her gaze, Richard saw a shooting star hurtle across the sky. Turning back, he thought he saw her lips move. What was she wishing for? Was it anything he could give her?

He must have moved, because Emily looked down, putting a hand to the front of her gown. “Who's there?”

“It's all right,” he said. “I was getting a breath of air.”

“Did you see the shooting star?”

“Yes.”

“They're a sign of good luck.”

They could use a bit of luck, he thought.

Emily leaned out, a figure of copper and ivory and gold. She seemed to be gazing at him, but he couldn't make out her expression in the shadows.

Silence lengthened between them.

“Are you…coming up?” she said finally.

Richard had to close his eyes at the fierce longing that shot through him with the question. No qualms or doubts were going to keep him from her bed tonight. The feel of her was branded into his nerves; the mere memory could make him shudder with desire. “In a moment,” he replied, his voice thick.

Emily hesitated, then withdrew from the window. Richard stared at the empty square of golden light, then turned and strode inside.

She was sitting on the bed, waiting for him, her legs curled under the silky folds of her nightdress. The lamplight was molten after the darkness outdoors, and Richard blinked at it, and at her delicate beauty.

“It's…getting cool,” she said.

“I'll close the window.” He started toward it.

“No!”

He stopped.

“I like hearing the crickets, and the wind.”

He turned away from the casement.

“Unless you want it closed,” Emily added hurriedly. “If you would rather…”

“I prefer it open.”

“Oh.” A smile trembled on her lips. “We…we will have to learn each other's habits.”

Richard was finding it difficult to breathe. They had trekked for days in the wilderness without this awkwardness. Did marriage destroy all that? The idea weighed on his spirits intolerably. He stripped off his coat and put it over the back of a chair. Sitting down, he pulled off his boots.

When he looked up, Emily was gazing at him. Her eyes dropped at once, then rose again. A flush spread from her face down her neck and under the scooped neckline of her gown.

Richard felt a thrill of recklessness. Pulling his shirt free of his breeches, he jerked it over his head and let it fall to the floor. Holding Emily's eyes, he stepped closer to the bed. Her gaze strayed downward, then quickly back to his. Richard felt a wild desire to laugh.

He took another step. Putting a hand to the fastening of his breeches, he raised a questioning eyebrow. At first, Emily didn't react. He waited, watching her eyes flicker from his face to his hand and back again. Her cheeks were flaming now, but she was leaning forward with what certainly appeared to be eagerness.

He moved his hand a bit, but continued to wait. Emily's lips parted. Richard cocked his head. She nodded, then looked daunted by her own temerity.

He undid the fastenings and stripped off his final garment, standing before her in the light of the lamp. He had never done such a thing with any other woman. Wild laughter rose in him again, an exultation that he didn't begin to understand. It burned him. He felt as if his eyes were glowing with it.

He reached the bed in two steps, and swept Emily into his arms, molding her against him. Her lips were sweet and pliant, urging him on. Her arms slid around his neck. Richard smoothed the curves of her back. Her body was intoxicating, maddening.

Her knees slipped around him. He ran his hands up her thighs and cupped her hips to press her closer. Their kisses were incendiary now, rising to a pitch beyond anything he had experienced.

The nightdress was becoming a nuisance. He grasped the silky material and tugged it up. Emily released her arms, but not her legs. She leaned back a little and helped him pull the garment free. When he threw it across the room, she laughed.

Richard pushed her back onto the bed. He couldn't take much more. And he wanted to hear her gasp. He dropped kisses across her shoulders and down to tease first one rosy nipple, then the other. His fingertips found the warm liquid spot that brought him the gasps he wanted.

She moaned his name. He ached with wanting her. Her fingers brushing over him were sweet torment.

Feeling her muscles go rigid, he shifted and buried himself in her warmth, moving with her as she pulled him closer. When she cried out, he loosed the iron control that had bound him and let himself rise to ecstasy in her wake. The world fell away. Every secret part of him thundered with release. It left his heart pounding, his breath rasping, and an odd, unexpected ripple of happiness spreading through his chest.

Richard held his wife close as the sensation ebbed. He could feel her heart beating under his hands. He kissed her neck, her shoulder. When he rolled onto his back, he pulled her with him, drawing her close to his side.

The sounds of the night spread around them. A current of cool air from the window caressed their heated skin.

“I should have…” began Richard, then stopped. Emily had said the same words at the same moment.

“Go ahead,” they both said.

Emily gave a nervous laugh.

“You…” each of them began.

Richard closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I never meant to force you into this marriage,” he blurted out. Then he rose on one elbow. Emily had said almost the same thing once again. “You didn't…” he started to answer. So did she.

“Stop this at once,” Richard said.

Emily pressed her lips together. She looked apprehensive and hopeful at the same time. Silently, she waited.

Now that he had the opportunity, Richard couldn't think what to say. She looked so very beautiful, lying there with her hair spread over the pillow.

“
You
didn't force
me
to marry,” she said at last. “It was my aunt, and then Papa, who made you…”

“No.”

Emily's celestial blue eyes were intent.

“I told your father to send for the special license.”

“You did?”

“I've known for some time that you were the only woman for me.”

She stared at him. “But you never said…”

“Until our adventure together, I had no right.”

The delicate flush that showed her skin's translucence appeared again. “If you mean what happened by the pool…”

“You did say that I was obliged to marry you after that,” he pointed out, gaining confidence now.

“It was a joke!”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

“Many women wouldn't think so.”

“I am
not
‘many women.'”

Richard let himself smile. “I know. But I wasn't referring to that, er, interlude.”

“What then?”

“Perhaps you don't realize that until we discovered that coal deposit, I was nearly penniless?”

She frowned as if he had said something confusing.

“I had no right to marry.”

“Because of money?” She looked incredulous.

“Absolutely.”

“You mean, if we had not found the coal…”

“I never would have touched you. I would have asked that you honor our bargain and break off our pretended engagement.”

Emily shivered. Richard pulled the covers up.

“Even though you cared for me?” she whispered.

“Even though I have known for a long while that I would never love anyone else.”

She gave a little gasp at the word
love
. “You would have left me alone—for money?”

“Honor,” he corrected this time.

She sat up and glared down at him. “I would never have forgiven you as long as I lived! I don't care anything about money.”

He laughed a little. “I know you don't.”

“But you still…”

“
I
cared. I wanted to give you the ease and comfort you've never had. I wanted you to have all the luxuries of the duchess's household
and
the passion of your parents'.”

Emily gazed at him. Her blue eyes pooled with tears. “How did you…?”

“I know you. How else could I love you?”

She threw herself into his arms. He thought she might weep, but she didn't. She held him fiercely, possessively, for a while. He enjoyed it.

“There's something you haven't said,” he pointed out when she relaxed a little. “It's rather important.”

She raised her coppery brows. There was a challenging glint in her eyes.

“I have told you that I love you,” he pointed out.

She nodded regally, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“You haven't…reciprocated.”

Emily tossed her head. “I don't believe I shall. I think I'll keep you wondering for, oh, a year or two. You'll have to cater to all my little whims and fancies and…”

Richard pulled her down against him and kissed her lingeringly. “I could keep you here until you admit it.”

“Mmm,” breathed Emily. “Oh,” she said as his hand moved. “Yes, why don't you?”

Dizzy, intoxicating minutes passed. Richard was breathing hard, desire driving him further than he had believed possible before this night. It was like a molten wave carrying them both beyond ordinary realms of sensation, into the transcendent. It rose and rose until the demands of passion nearly overwhelmed him.

“Richard,” murmured Emily. “Please,” she pleaded. “Oh, please.”

“Tell me,” he demanded through gritted teeth. He resisted the wave with all his strength.

“I love you,” Emily breathed. “I'll never love anyone else so much.”

Gloriously, the wave broke.

* * *

Emily nestled closer into the curve of Richard's shoulder, her arm thrown across his muscular chest. They would sleep side by side in the night for the rest of their lives, she thought drowsily. She could hardly believe it even now. “So everything came right in the end,” she murmured, mainly to herself.

“Very right,” Richard agreed.

“When are they coming about the coal?”

“Tomorrow, I'm afraid.”

Emily remembered something else. She rose on one elbow. “What did you mean that night, at the evening party, when you said I had cut through weeks of pondering and confusion?”

Richard looked up at her, his expression tender. “You said someone should make certain that the new inventions were used wisely.”

She nodded.

“It was the hint I needed. The purpose I had been looking for in my life,” he added simply.

The appreciation and respect in his gaze rendered her speechless for a moment.

“And with this coal deposit, I will have the funds to act as well.”

“And you owe it all to me,” she teased. “If I had not come down to Wales, you would not have been chased through the countryside and found the coal.”

Richard frowned. “A method of discovery not to be repeated.”

“I certainly hope not.”

A thought struck Emily. “You know, I have a friend who might be very helpful about new inventions…”

Richard's expression stopped her. “Another friend?”

She nodded.

His hazel eyes danced. “A pickpocket? A singing teacher who used to smuggle brandy out of Napoleon's France?”

“No. He is quite respectable. Except…”

“Yes?” He was smiling. “Except?”

Emily gave him a look. “He has a sad habit of designing his own banknotes.”

Emily's brand-new husband dissolved in laughter as he pulled her close.

Order Jane Ashford's first book
in The Duke's Sons series

Heir to the Duke

On sale January 2016

Order Jane Ashford's first book
in The Duke's Sons series

Heir to the Duke

On sale January 2016