If He's Wild (10 page)

“Ethelred, have my trunks brought to my room, please,” Alethea said and then turned to Hartley the moment the butler walked away. “I will leave for Coulthurst in the morning.” She kissed him on the cheek and started up the stairs, fighting the urge to turn and run into his arms with every step she took.

“Oh, no, you will not,” said Hartley and started up the stairs right behind her.

“’Tis what I must do. Kate,” she called, “I need you to help me pack for the journey back to Coulthurst.”

“Kate, she is
not
packing,” Hartley yelled. Catching her by the arm, he dragged her off to her room. “And tell Ethelred she needs no trunks,” he added as he saw Kate standing only a few feet away as he pushed Alethea into her bedchamber.

“Hartley! Do not order my servants around. I
have
to leave. Kate!” Alethea caught a brief glimpse of Kate hurrying down the stairs to the foyer just before Hartley closed the door and latched it. Kate had obviously decided to try her hand at a little matchmaking, and Alethea promised to make her pay for that. “Damn it, Hartley, I cannot risk my family. I told you, there are a lot of Vaughns and Wherlockes in the city right now.”

“Then warn them. I suspect they are well aware of what to do about such a threat.”

“They are, but they should not have to worry about it just because I have tangled myself up with a madwoman.”

She moved toward her wardrobe only to find his big body blocking the door. He did the same when she darted toward her dressing table. How did a man of his size move so quickly? she thought angrily. Alethea stopped, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him.

“You cannot expect me to take the chance that she can do as she threatened to. I have to leave.”

“No.”

“Why? Why are you being so difficult about this? I am no soldier or spy. Already you waste valuable men in the protecting of me, men who would be better used to help bring that woman down. If I have a vision, I can always send word to you. Why must I stay here?”

A squeak escaped her when he grabbed her, picked her up, and carried her to her bed. Surprise stole her breath when he tossed her down on it. When he sprawled on top of her, she feared she would never regain that much-needed breath. A heady warmth flowed through her as his hard, strong body pressed against hers. Alethea fought against the cloud of desire that began to encircle her mind. She wanted what he was offering, wanted it badly, but she had no time for it now.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked, unable to keep all of her sudden breathlessness out of her voice.

“I am about to show you why you cannot leave.” Hartley moved so that he could easily remove her shoes and then ran a hand up one slim leg.

“You think you can seduce me out of doing what is necessary?”

Alethea knew she ought to stop the man. He was taking her clothes off, pausing only to shed a piece of his own clothing now and again. It would not be long before they were both naked. That should shock her and bring a stern protest to her lips. Instead, it made her heart skip with glee in her chest and her blood run hot. By the time she was stripped to her shift and he wore only his breeches, Alethea knew that protesting was the very last thing she wanted to do.

The Marquis of Redgrave was a very handsome man in all ways, she decided as she tried not to pant. She had seen men with their shirts off before but not one of them had made her so short of breath just from looking at them. Hartley was all lean, elegant muscle and taut, smooth skin. She wanted to put her mouth on that skin, to taste him everywhere. That thought should also have shocked her right down to her toes, but it just made her more eager for what he planned.

“This could prove to be a complication,” she forced herself to say, knowing full well that it would be one for her and hoping it might be for him as well.

“No, I think not.”

Hartley removed her shift and caught his breath so quickly he nearly choked. He had suspected that Alethea dressed in a way that disguised most of her curves, but his imagination had not come close to the reality. Her breasts were full and round, almost too much for her otherwise slim shape to hold, and they were tipped with large, dark rose aureoles, her nipples already hard and inviting. Her hips flared out invitingly from her small waist; he already knew she had a firm, well-rounded backside, but her legs were long and slender. That shapely body was covered by soft ivory skin that only enhanced the tidy vee of black curls at the juncture of her strong, slim thighs. Despite the fact that she had a wealth of thick black hair on her head, the rest of her body was surprisingly lacking in hair. Hartley found that intoxicating.

His blood pounding with need, he yanked off the last of his clothing and tossed it aside. The way her eyes widened as her gaze settled on his erection, the way they darkened with desire, made him want to strut around the room. Need overpowered that strange urge, and he quickly settled his body over hers. He groaned with pleasure when his flesh touched hers, her soft gasp of delight music to his ears.

“Hartley.” Alethea found it a struggle to talk but forced a sliver of clarity into her desire-fogged mind. “There is something you need to know about me.”

“Your husband never touched you.”

“How could you know that?”

He kissed her, growling his approval when her tongue tangled with his. “There were rumors that Channing was not, well, he had little appreciation of women. Am I right? Are you untouched?”

“Yes. Channing never did more than give me the occasional kiss, brief and closed. I do not know much about all this, and you are used to women with experience—”

He stopped her words with another kiss. “It is going to be a pleasure beyond words to teach you about all a man and woman can share.”

Alethea had the fleeting thought that he sounded annoyingly arrogant, but his kiss banished it. She wrapped her arms around him, caressing the smooth, taut skin of his broad back. Just the feel of his flesh against hers, the warmth of it beneath her hands, sent desire tearing through her veins with a strength that was almost frightening in its intensity. She could not get close enough, could not touch him enough to satisfy the craving that grew within her.

She tilted her head back in welcome as he kissed his way down her throat. When he covered her breasts with his hands, she gasped at the pleasure the caress brought, the faint calluses on his fingers making her nipples ache as he caressed them. Then his warm lips followed the path of his hands, and her body filled with an aching demand.

“Hartley!” she cried when he licked the aching tip of her breast, and even she did not know if it was a cry of protest over such an intimate caress or a cry of utter delight. All interest in which it was disappeared completely when he took the swollen tip of one breast into the damp heat of his mouth and sucked.

Hartley savored the way her small hands clenched on his body, her nails scraping against his skin. Her lushly curved yet lithe little body shifted against him in a silent demand he was struggling to ignore. She was searing fire in his arms, her passion running as fierce and hot as his own. He ached to bury himself deep within her and ride her, hard, until they both cried out in release, but he fought to chain that urge. Alethea was untried, and he was determined to make her first time with a man, her first time with
him,
as enjoyable as every time to follow would be.

Greedily enjoying the taste of her on his mouth, the scent of her desire perfuming the air, and the silken warmth of her skin beneath his hands, Hartley worked to build her passion up so high and so hot that she would not even flinch when he took her maidenhead. Just the thought of her innocence caused him a twinge of unease, so he ruthlessly banished it from his mind. He caressed every inch of her body with his hands as he feasted upon her full breasts, pausing in that sublime chore only to kiss her now and then. She was fulsome, well-rounded in all of the places a woman should be, yet slender as a reed everyplace else. It was a heady mix. Delighting in her every gasp and soft moan, he slid his hand between her legs, stroking her, and was pleased to find that she was already weeping in welcome for him, readying her body to receive him. Her shock over such a deeply intimate caress was so fleeting, Hartley knew she was more than ready for the next step in their erotic dance.

Hartley kissed her as he began to join their bodies, her tight heat making him so eager and hungry that he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from moving too quickly. The moment he reached her maidenhead, he grasped her by the hips and thrust home. He groaned with relief to discover the shield of her innocence was a thin one, easily breeched, and eliciting only one soft gasp from her. She quickly arched her body up toward his, helping him to sink even deeper into her heat.

Alethea was startled out of the haze of passion she had sunk into by Hartley’s abrupt entrance into her body. Only a brief twinge of a shadowy pain told her of her lost innocence. She felt uncomfortably full, however, and shifted her legs a little farther up his body. Alethea then arched against him and all discomfort eased, the sense of being filled becoming a pure delight. He kissed her, his tongue mimicking the slow, deep thrusts of his body. She clutched at his back as something within her began to tighten in a way that was a mix of pleasure and pain. It was as if every drop of desire in her blood was rushing toward the place where her body was joined with his.

“Hartley?” she called softly, a sliver of fear trying to cut through the heat of her passion. “I feel…There is something.” Alethea almost cursed aloud at her inability to explain what she was experiencing.

“Do not fight it, love,” he said and nipped at her earlobe. “Flow with it, give in to its pull.”

A heartbeat later she did, crying out his name as the knot of blazing hunger split apart, sending waves of blinding passion through her veins. Alethea was faintly aware of Hartley pounding into her, once, twice, and then his whole body tensed as he growled out her name. The sound was feral, fierce, and it added to the swirl of heat and beauty she was caught up in. The hot surge of his seed spilled inside her just before she became completely lost in the maelstrom of desire gripping her mind and body.

The cool, damp movement of a cloth over her nether regions yanked Alethea out of the daze she had slipped into with a shocked gasp on her lips. She raised her hand to push away whatever assaulted her so intimately only to hear Hartley chuckle. The heat of a blush stung her cheeks when she realized he had just been washing away the signs of their lovemaking on her body.

And it had been lovemaking, at least on her part, she realized when he climbed back into bed and pulled her into his arms. She looked into his slumberous golden brown eyes and nearly sighed like some love-struck girl right out of the schoolroom. Alethea inwardly straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and pushed that moonstruck chit into a dark corner of her mind. This was an affair; that was all Hartley wanted. To pine for more was foolish; to let him see clearly that she pined for more would put a swift end to this affair. She was going to have a shattered heart no matter when he walked away from her, and she was determined to make every moment with him count, as well as gather as many of those moments as possible.

“I was prepared for pain,” she said as she rested her cheek against his chest and idly circled her palm over his taut stomach, “but there was so little it barely made me blink.”

“Your innocence was but lightly protected, love, and I am grateful for that. It allowed you to enjoy the full measure of pleasure.”

Her heart skipped with joy when he called her
love,
but she ignored it, knowing what an empty endearment it could be, and sighed. “I should still leave. It is my duty to protect my family.”

Hartley kissed the top of her head, regretting the fact that he could not stay with her longer, could not hold her through the night and make love to her again and again. “Trust me, Claudette’s threat is troublesome, but that trouble can be averted now that we know of it. We have men working all over the city, and they will be told the why of such rumors and ordered to smother them. To succeed, her voice needs to be the only one, or at least the loudest and clearest, and it will not be.”

“I do trust you, Hartley. I shall try to put aside my fear for my family.”

“Good, for I would rather do something other than lie here and talk of your family in the short time I have left. I would like nothing better than to spend the night, to wake at your side in the morning, but I will have to slip away soon.”

“How soon?”

“In an hour or two.”

Alethea rubbed her body against his, watching as a flush of renewed desire touched his cheeks. “Why, however shall we pass the time until then?”

Hartley laughed and turned until she was sprawled beneath him, more than ready for a second taste of the fire she shared with him.

“I wish you would cease glaring at me, Iago. It is quite spoiling my appetite.”

Iago looked at Alethea’s full plate and nearly snickered. He doubted she even realized how much she was eating. A night of illicit passion had obviously stirred up her appetite, he thought, and then glared at her some more. She looked disgustingly content, while he felt an utter failure as her uncle and protector.

“Why did you leave the ball last night, aside from the need to rush home and take a lover to your bed?” He smirked when she glared at him, experiencing a hint of triumph over spoiling her good mood.

Alethea considered pouring her porridge over her uncle’s head. Laden with honey and cream, it would make a satisfying mess. Then she sighed. He was undoubtedly all tangled up in some manly sense of failure. His niece had been seduced beneath his very roof, and he had done nothing to stop it or to challenge the man who had seduced her. Alethea was not sure how she could cure him of something she did not really understand. After all, she was a grown woman, a widow, and she had already explained to him that she wanted Hartley and would have him if he showed any interest. This start of an affair could be no great surprise to Iago.

“Iago, I told you that—”

“Yes, yes, I know what you told me.” He sighed. “I suppose I just never expected you to actually do it.”

“Well, I did. I wanted him, he wanted me.” She shrugged.

“Do not try to make it all sound so simple, as if it were no more than the act of a spoiled child—or children. You love him.”

“I fear I do.” She slathered honey on a piece of toast and struggled not to reveal how much that worried her. “But I might be mistaking lust for love. Men do it all the time. I do not think so, but what do I know about it all? I went from an isolated childhood into an isolated marriage, which was no marriage at all.”

“True, and I am sorry that your family did not investigate that fool more closely. You did not deserve to be locked into such an empty marriage. It would not have taken us long to discover the truth about the man. Your husband’s preferences had been whispered about and speculated upon for a long time.”

“His preferences?” Alethea frowned as she tried to guess what Iago meant and then suddenly smiled as comprehension came to her. “Oh, you mean that he preferred men. No, I think not. I do not believe my husband ever preferred men to women. I think he had no preferences at all, actually. He had no passion in him at all, not for anything or anyone. What I had seen as a calm, even-tempered man was actually a man who was, well, dead inside. Something was missing in him, that something that makes us cry, laugh, hate, love, even fear and rage. Whether something happened to him to make him that way, we shall never know, but he may have even been born that way.”

“Oh. The one time I met him, I thought him a pleasant, gentlemanly sort.”

“Pleasant, gentlemanly, and empty. He was empty, Iago. He never even blinked when I had a vision. Nothing moved him, absolutely nothing. What I saw as kind was only good manners performed blindly. I had to accept that truth when a child was killed in the village, trampled by horses. Channing looked at that poor, mangled little body, and there was nothing in his eyes, not even revulsion at the sight of the body. But he did all that he should, from arranging for the body to be moved and properly buried to speaking to the grief-stricken parents. And then went on to have his lunch—always served at precisely the same time every day.”

“I do not believe I have ever met anyone like that.”

“Be thankful for it. It is chilling. And, mayhap, that is why I am so drawn to Hartley. He does not realize it, I think, but he is a man of very strong emotion. I confess, I soak it up, revel in it. In some ways, living with Channing smothered me, and now I can breathe.”

Iago drummed his fingers on the table. “I nearly confronted you last night, but Kate stopped me.”

Alethea blushed. “That could have been very embarrassing.”

He grinned. “For all of us, I think.” Then he grew serious again. “It pricks at my pride that I am just standing back while Redgrave has an affair with my niece, but so be it. As you have said, you are a widow, a grown woman. But if he shames you, sullies your name, or treats you unkindly, I will not allow you to stop me from doing as I must.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed, although she knew she would do everything in her power to stop her uncle and her lover from fighting.

“Now, tell me, what was it that upset you so badly last night?”

Alethea told him everything about the confrontation between her and Claudette, including her decision to leave. She waited patiently while her uncle muttered a long string of curses before saying, “Hartley assures me that, if she tries such a thing, it can be stopped before it goes too far.”

“I suspect it can, but I will still send word to any of our family residing in the city.”

“That is what Hartley told me to do, yet Claudette’s threat made my blood run cold. I immediately remembered every terrifying tale from our family’s past.” She took a bracing sip of tea. “I am still not certain I should stay, and wonder if I allowed him to convince me to do so just because I do not wish to leave him.”

“That is probably some of it, but you cannot bow down to threats, and everyone in our family would agree with me on that. That woman will soon be gone. She is very diligently digging her own grave. I just worry that, once she fully realizes how much power she has lost, she will lash out at one of us, at Hartley, or at you. There is a cold madness in that woman.”

“I know. I have felt it. ’Tis there to see in her eyes. When you see it, you have to wonder how she was able to seduce so many men.”

“The men who sought her out, bedded her, were not particularly interested in her eyes.”

“Wretch.”

Alethea’s amusement faded quickly, however. Madame Claudette could not remain blissfully ignorant of the banishment rolling toward her for long. When the acceptance of society was finally, firmly pulled away, all her lethal games would come to an end. So, too, Alethea mused, would Claudette’s source of income and comfortable life, as well as whatever power she had managed to grasp. Alethea did not
worry
that the woman would strike out when that happened—she was sure of it. She knew it as well as she knew her own name.

Hartley finished the last of his breakfast, pushed his plate aside, and began to drink his tea. He would like to have shared a breakfast with Alethea but knew that would have been pushing Iago too hard up against the wall. It did not surprise him that he wanted to do something he had never done before—wake up beside a lover—either. He was becoming accustomed to acting unusually around Alethea. Since he had made the decision that he would make her his marchioness, wanting to share breakfast with her was just more proof that he had made the right decision.

He watched the footmen clear the table and thought on the threat Claudette had made. Alethea had been terrified, and for that alone he wanted Claudette to pay dearly. He did not fully understand Alethea’s fear, however, and intended to gather as much information on her family’s history as possible. There was no doubt in his mind that some of her ancestors had paid dearly, horrifically, for their gifts. Iago and Alethea had made reference to that dark past and those troubled times, but he had shrugged their remarks aside. He would do so no longer. That deep fear Alethea revealed could be used against her, as Claudette had shown, and he needed facts if he was to ever be able to ease that fear in his wife.

Wife.
The word used to terrify him. Now he was eager to make Alethea his in all ways. He did not want to creep out of her bed again, slipping away in the dark of night like some thief. Hartley had thoroughly disliked waking up in his bed—alone. And that was yet another drastic change in his ways. He knew there would be more, yet felt no resentment over that fact. He was ready to be married, ready to be married to Alethea.

The sound of men hurrying toward the door pulled Hartley from his thoughts. He stared at his friends in surprise as Aldus and Gifford rushed up to the table. For a moment he suffered the sharp stab of fear that something had happened to Alethea. Then he saw that their expressions were ones of excitement, not alarm.

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up straight. “What has happened?”

“They found them,” said Aldus, and he held out a crumpled, dirty piece of paper.

“Them?” Hartley reluctantly took hold of the paper even though he did not understand his hesitation to do so.

“The children. Germaine and Bayard. They found them alive and are bringing them home.” Aldus patted a stunned Hartley on the back and then moved to see what food was left on the sideboard, Gifford following suit.

Hartley was not surprised to see his hands shaking as he held the message. For three long years he had searched and hoped for some sign that his sister’s children had not died on that beach. Alethea had renewed his waning hope, but years of failure and fear had taken their toll, and he had tried not to let his hopes rise too high. Now he held word that Germaine and Bayard had survived, that they would soon be home with him, and he found himself frozen in fear and indecision. It was almost laughable, as if now that the prize was within reach, he did not know what to do with it.

“Are you all right, Hartley?” asked Aldus as he sat down on Hartley’s right, his plate heavy with food.

“Yes, I think so.” Hartley shook his head as Gifford sat on his left. “It must be shock that it has happened so quickly. After three long years of nothing, Alethea has a vision, her cousins go to France with that information, and a week later I hold the news that my niece and nephew have been found and will soon be home. My mind is finding that hard to accept.” He read the message again. “Someone must have rushed this to the ship the moment the children were seen.”

“Or near to. Leo does say that it took some time to convince your niece that he was who he said he was, and that they had tried to run at first. Seems that fellow Bened is a tracker, a very good one, and he soon caught them.”

“It does trouble me that the couple who kept them hidden demanded some payment for all their trouble.”

“You would have given them some anyway,” said Gifford.

“I would have,” agreed Hartley, “but the fact that they demanded it leaves me wondering just what place my niece and nephew held at that farm.”

“Ah, yes,” agreed Aldus. “Something to consider.”

“And Leo says nothing about their health, just that they are alive, and he will make sure they get on the ship home. I had not realized that the baron and his cousin would join the hunt.”

“He said they would be pleased to assist.”

“It sounds like they did far more than that, yet they had other business to do in France, and, even though they implied it would not start the moment they landed, I doubt they had days to spare. Still, I am grateful beyond words.”

“So, soon you will have the care of your sister’s children.”

Hartley grimaced. “They are not truly children any more. Bayard is rapidly approaching manhood. Germaine is eighteen now, a young woman. If life had taken the route intended for her, she would be attending balls and hunting for a husband now. My sister would have enjoyed that,” he added softly and then shook away a faint pang of remembered grief. “I think I must push forward my plans to marry.”

“What are you going to do? Go to Alethea and say that your niece and nephew are coming home and could she marry you now so that there is someone there to help care for them? I am sure that will make her heart beat faster.”

“I will certainly not phrase it that way, but neither will I hide the fact that I wish her to help me with the children. They will need a woman’s guidance, her sympathy and understanding.”

“I think you might want to say a few words about caring and passion and all,” said Gifford and then filled his mouth with sausage.

“I am not without skill with the ladies, you know,” said Hartley, although their words began to make him uneasy about how Alethea might respond to his proposal.

“With experienced women who look for lovers and like to be seduced,” said Aldus. “This is a gently born country lass. Not a London lady. I hate to tell you this, Hartley, but a practical proposal will probably gain you a hearty refusal. You need to dress it up with a few warm words.”

What Hartley had no intention of telling his friends was that he and Alethea had already shared enough warmth to heat every Londoner’s home. He would remind her of that. It might be wise, however, to plan what he would say to her even as he got the special license he would need. What he would not do was claim an undying love for her; he would not start his marriage with a lie. He almost smiled. Considering the family he was marrying into, that could prove to be a huge mistake anyway.

“Eat up,” he ordered his friends. “I need to secure a special license, and witnesses to the marriage will be needed.” He ignored the grumblings of his friends and turned his thoughts to the proposal he was about to make.

Alethea looked up from her needlework and smiled as Hartley, Aldus, and Gifford were escorted into the family parlor. Hartley stepped over to her and kissed her on the lips right in front of his friends and her uncle. She blushed and wondered what he was up to. There was an air of excitement about him, but he asked Iago if he could talk to him for a moment, and the two of them left. She set aside her needlework and looked at Aldus and Gifford.

Before she could begin to question them, Alfred and Ethelred arrived with food and drink. She sighed and began her role as hostess. The minute the servants left, however, she returned her full attention to the two men now seated across from her. They were acting as if all that interested them was the food on the table, but she was not fooled for a minute. There was a tension in the men that told her they knew what was going on.

“What has happened?” she asked and frowned at the suspicious way the two men exchanged looks before meeting her gaze.

“Germaine and Bayard have been found,” said Aldus.

“Alive?” she asked in a voice that was close to a whisper, her heart beating hard with fear that there had been bad news.