Pride and Fire (32 page)

She bit her lip as his mouth caressed her, his tongue driving her mad. “God, yes…”

She shuddered as her climax took her, sobbing his name. He lifted his head and flashed her an arrogant grin. He brought his face to hers and kissed her deeply, his fingers tunneling through her hair. Her hands trailed over him, her fingers working the buttons of his breeches. He groaned as she freed him. He turned and pinned her beneath him on the bed. Stepping away he peeled off his breeches, at last coming to lay on top of her.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “Of having you again.”

The weight of him, the pressure, drove her mad. “Take me, Paul.”

He lifted her hips and entered her. He stroked her slowly, deeply, coming into her again and again. She clutched at him, urging him to go faster.

“Easy, love,” he ground out.

He turned and held her above him. She braced her arms on his chest, her fingers splayed. He held on to her hips, setting the pace they both needed. When her body bowed back in release he gave in to his own orgasm, arching up off the bed.

She collapsed against him, and couldn’t stop the hot tears that poured down her cheeks to wet his chest.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

She shook her head and sniffled. “I was afraid we would never be together again. Like this.”

He lifted her head up to gaze into her eyes, cursing softly. “I’m sorry about that last time, Michelle. I…I hurt you.”

She reached up and stroked his cheek, a small smile on her face. “You didn’t hurt me, Paul. Not really. I’m just so pleased you still want me.”

He studied her for a long moment, his eyes glittering. “I love you. I’ll never let you go.”

Michelle nodded and brought her lips to his. Their kiss was gentle, full of her love. “I am so glad you came for me, husband.”

“You’re mine, wife,” he said, stroking her cheek. “I will always want you with me.”

“And you’re mine.” She was quiet for a moment. “Paul, did you mean it when you said your affairs are my affairs?”

He nodded in answer.

“I think your speeches are wonderful,” she said.

He picked up his head in surprise. “You do?”

“Yes. Although, some of your friends have some very peculiar points of view.”

He laughed deeply. “I agree, love. Especially about the Chancery Court. Gorham actually thinks the court ineffectual.”

She rose up to stare at him. “But, you cannot believe the Chancery—”

She saw by the gleam in his eye he was teasing her. She grinned, settling against his chest once more. “I’m sorry I gave your gifted words to Reggie.”

Paul shook his head. “He took advantage of you in more ways than one, wife.”

“He won’t do so again, I vow.”

“He wouldn’t dare impose upon your kindness again.” A secret smile curved her husband’s beautiful mouth. “I daresay Roberts and Chester put the fear of more than
my
retribution in his mind.”

“You can laugh now, Paul. But do you truly forgive me?”

“Yes, love.”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and asked him the question that hung in the air between them. “Will you take my dowry now?”

“Yes, Michelle. I realize now how important it is to you. I suppose I’ll have to get used to having a rich wife,” he added wryly.

She laughed and placed a kiss on his chest.

“Interesting, though,” he went on. “My accounts are not so troublesome now.”

“What do you mean?”

He told her of his father’s troubles, of the gambling and the later discovery of the second set of ledgers. “So you see, I won’t have to dower my sisters or pay for the repairs to Talbot Hall.”

“Oh, Paul,” she said. “That’s wonderful.”

He nodded, a thought suddenly coming to him. “What would you say, love, to a visit to my property in Yorkshire?”

Her eyes opened wide. “Do you mean it?”

He nodded, pleased at her reaction. “I’m afraid Leed Manor could be in quite a state of disrepair, however.”

“Oh, what does that matter? When can we go?”

“I’ll tell you this,” he said, hugging her to him. “I’ll contact my steward and have him get the place ready for us. Will one week be too long?”

She kissed him in answer.

* * * *

They spent that week with Geoffrey and Becca at Kanewood. Paul wrote to his steward at Leed Manor, advising him that he and Michelle would be arriving in a few days.

The day came to depart for Yorkshire. Paul’s estate was but a three-hour carriage ride from Kanewood, Michelle was pleased to discover.

“Rebecca, you simply must come to visit us soon,” Michelle said.

Becca nodded with enthusiasm. “That would be lovely.”

Michelle clasped her hands together. “You could assist me in the redecorating. Paul said the house is in a deplorable state.”

“I didn’t say that precisely, love,” Paul laughed, coming to join the women on the wide stone drive. “Come. It’s too chilly for you to be outside.”

Michelle arched a brow at him, pleased with his concern nonetheless. She embraced Becca and waved goodbye to Lady Margaret.

Paul gave Geoffrey a hearty handshake. “I can’t thank you enough, Kane.”

“Nonsense, Leed. You’ve helped me in the past. More times than I can count.”

Paul assisted Michelle up into the carriage and settled in beside her.

She leaned back against him. “We’re truly fortunate to have such good friends.”

“I agree, wife.”

The ride into Yorkshire was an easy one, the roads dry and relatively smooth. As they crossed over into the county, Michelle felt Paul tense in anticipation. She glanced at him and read the excitement in his eyes.

“I haven’t seen the property in over two years,” he told her. “It begins right at that copse of trees.”

Michelle looked out the window and gasped. The land looked so rich, so green, even this late in the year. The lane was rutted, and the carriage gave a lurch. She gripped the seat as she continued to stare, her eyes searching for the house.

“When will we see the manor, Paul?”

“We still have a way to go, love.” He smiled. “It sits a good distance in from this boundary.”

Soon they rounded a bend and cleared the trees. The house loomed above them.

“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, husband,” she began. “But, it’s so…dark and gloomy.”

“It is that.”

The house was built over three centuries ago, of austere gray stone. It boasted a great tower, which Michelle allowed might enclose pleasant rooms. The entrance was huge, missing only, in her opinion, a moat and drawbridge.

“It is quite Gothic,” Paul mused aloud. He laughed. “Well-suited for brooding, don’t you think?”

Michelle turned to him. “You shall brood no more, husband.”

The carriage made its way up the long, curving drive toward the manor. When it stopped, the two of them stared up at the imposing edifice.

“Lord, it’s impressive,” Paul said, pride in his voice.

Lord, it’s ugly
, Michelle thought with a shudder.

He helped her down from the carriage and stood with his arm around her shoulders. “What do you think, Lady Leed? Could you warm the castle?”

Michelle doubted anything could be done to soften the harshness of the structure. As if reading her thoughts, he chuckled and kissed her. They held hands as they climbed the rough stone steps to the massive oak door.

The steward met them in the entryway. Paul told him he would meet with him later that afternoon, then led Michelle deeper into the manor.

The inside of the house was far more pleasant than the exterior, she was relieved to see. The walls had been plastered and whitewashed, smoothness taking the place of the rough stones. Though there wasn’t much in the way of decorations, the furnishings present were of high quality. Michelle let go of Paul’s hand and walked slowly through the great hall, the heels of her slippers clicking on the polished stone floor.

“Perhaps some furniture arranged in intimate groups would make the space less imposing,” she mused aloud. She looked down at the hard floor beneath her feet. “And some lovely carpets. Oh, and tapestries! Surely they would make the ceiling appear not quite so high.”

Paul crossed his arms and leaned against the plastered wall, watching her with amused interest. “Well?” he said after a long while. “Can you make this cold place a home?

Michelle stopped near an oversized upholstered bench and turned to face him. He crossed to her and sat, pulling her down on his lap.

She turned and placed her hands behind his neck. “If I could make your bachelor townhouse inviting, I’m up to the challenge of Leed Manor.”

Paul laid his hand on her belly and lowered his head. “Do you hear that, little love?” he said to the growing baby within. “Your mama will see this house draped in rose brocade in no time.”

Michelle laughed too, lifting his face to give him a sweet kiss.

Epilogue

May, 1824

Sunlight streamed into Paul’s study at his townhouse in London. He sat behind his desk, his fingers tented under his chin. He looked over at Michelle, sitting in the chair facing him. She wore a voluminous day gown of blue, her hands folded over her round belly and her brow furrowed.

“Husband,” she said, raising her voice, “if the Royal Navy was able to offer some sort of career security to its sailors, it would be far better off.”

“Wife,” Paul argued back, “it’s perfectly feasible to recruit from common seamen as they’re needed.”

Michelle looked at him as if her were mad. They’d taken to writing his speeches together, the differences in their opinions fueling spirited debates from which he made persuasive arguments for his clients. As a result, his speeches were in high demand by those who had points, important and otherwise, to make. It seemed that Reggie’s brief intrusion on Paul’s work did not have any lasting effects on Paul’s career.

Michelle opened her mouth to make another point when her eyes open wide.

Paul shot to his feet and crossed to her. “Is anything wrong, love?”

“Nothing at all.” She smiled cheekily at him. “It appears your little love agrees with me on this matter.”

He smiled and placed his hand on her belly. The baby kicked then, hard. “I believe you’re right.”

Patting her stomach gently, he gave her a kiss. He took his seat once more and they continued their work.

Not thirty minutes later, Paul was busily writing down some ideas as Michelle paced the room. She’d made several more valid points about the sailors, and he wished to get them down on paper. Her loud gasp caught his attention.

“Is the baby kicking again?” he asked, his eyes still on the paper.

When she didn’t answer right away, he looked up. Her pained expression struck a chord of alarm in him. He crossed to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think… the baby’s coming.”

“Are you sure?”

She shook her head, her breathing finally slowing. “I don’t know. But I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

Paul held her hand and watched for any signs of another pain. After a long moment, he let out a breath when none came. “I’m sure we have plenty of time. Kane told me it took Rebecca hours and hours to birth little Michael.”

Michelle shot him a disgruntled look. “Wonderful.”

She doubled over as another pain took her and he yelled for Starks.

“Yes, My Lord?”

“Fetch Dr. Morgan, Starks. Right away.”

Starks nodded and hurried from the room. Paul carried Michelle upstairs to their chamber.

“Dr. Morgan will be here soon, love,” he said, tucking her into bed.

“Good.”

She grabbed her belly as another pain hit her and Paul stared down at her, feeling helpless. To his relief the doctor arrived soon after.

Dr. Morgan smiled at Michelle. “How are you, Lady Leed?”

Michelle rubbed her stomach through the sheets and shrugged. The doctor patted her shoulder and took Paul aside.

“It’ll be a long time before the baby is born, Lord Leed,” Dr. Morgan said. “Go down to your study and pour yourself brandy.”

Relieved by the doctor’s words, Paul kissed Michelle and did as he said.

Not one hour later Dr. Morgan rapped on the open door of Paul’s study, a look of surprise on his face.

“Leed,” he began, “I would not have believed it.”

“What?” Paul asked in confusion. “Is something wrong with Michelle?”

Dr. Morgan shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. “It appears your baby has a stubborn streak as wide as the Thames. Your wife and child are waiting for you upstairs.”

“Already?” Paul asked, his feet rooted to the floor. “But… how can that be?”

The doctor chuckled over Paul’s befuddlement. He stepped behind him and pushed him out the door. “Upstairs, Leed.”

Paul regained himself and shook his head. He took the stairs two at a time and ran through the door to the bedroom. Michelle sat up in the bed, looking refreshed and utterly beautiful. Her glorious hair was spread out on the pillows behind her, a ruffled wrapper of white draped about her. When he paused in mid-stride, his brow furrowed, she smiled.

“Come and meet your daughter, Paul.”

He hurried over to her side and looked down at the baby nestled in her arms, at the wispy red curls wreathing its head. He sat beside Michelle as she opened the blanket swaddling the infant, revealing her perfect little face. The baby opened her eyes then, eyes as blue as Paul’s.

Paul stoked the baby’s cheek. “Hello, little love.”

The baby blinked up at him, her mouth pursed.

“I believe I’ve thought of a name for her,” Michelle said.

He looked at his wife. “You have?”

She nodded. “Rose.”

He bit back his laughter, grinning in agreement. “She is a little rose. And there’s no doubt in my mind she’ll be all over this place.”

She nodded and held the tiny bundle out to him. “Do you want to hold her?”

Paul hesitated and Michelle gave him a warm look of encouragement. He straightened his shoulders and took the baby in his arms, cradling her gently. He rocked the infant and stared down at her.

“So sweet,” he said in awe. “Rose, you’re as beautiful as your mother.”