The Earl Claims a Bride (27 page)

“You don’t have to take them off for me. I rather like them. I think they make you look scholarly.”

“Nonsense,” she huffed, trying to wipe a smear of white paint off her hand. It wouldn’t budge so she gave up.

He looked down at the fan. “Painting again. A white peacock. It’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking around for her dome to cover it. Finding it on the floor by her chair, she placed it over the fan and then said, “It’s all finished but the drying.” She looked up at him and had to admit to herself that she was glad to see him—but he didn’t need to know that. “Now, tell me why you are here.”

“I told you.” His gaze fluttered up and down her face. “I wanted to see you.”

That’s all? He wanted to see her. Why did comments like that from him always make her stomach feel like it was a sanctuary for butterflies?

Her heart started pounding in her chest and she started remembering how intimate their kisses were the last time she’d seen him. Forcing those thoughts away, she said, “Where have you been?”

“The Duke of Drakestone and I went to visit a friend up north, and on the way back I stopped by Thornwick to check on the rebuilding of the house.”

“I didn’t know if you were gone or if I was just missing you at the parties.”

A curious sparkle lit his eyes. “Would you have liked for me to tell you my plans?”

“What? No. No, I certainly would not,” she said, feeling a little flustered. “It matters not to me where you go or when.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“You do a lot of painting,” he said.

“I enjoy it.”
Or I used to before it became work
, she thought.

“You know most of the portraits in Thornwick were destroyed in the fire, but some of them were only damaged. Perhaps you can help me find someone who would be willing to take them and copy them to a new canvas. I mean, I know nothing about painting and you could look at an artist’s work and let me know if you think the person would be capable of doing a good job for me.”

“I—I suppose I would be willing to help you find someone who could repaint or repair the portraits for you.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I appreciate that.”

Lord Thornwick reached down and picked up one of her hands and looked at it as he said, “The Maltese is missing from the pack.”

His hand was warm, strong, and clean. Hers was small and streaked with paint. “She’s with Granna.”

“It’s Thursday. Is your grandmother visiting her friend this afternoon?”

He remembered that I mentioned that
.

Her breaths quickened. “Yes,” she said and looked down at her hand in his.

He lifted her hand to his mouth, placed his lips on the heel of her palm, and licked across a small swath of green paint. With hooded eyes he looked at her and asked, “And where is your father?”

Angelina’s heart started pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “I don’t know.”

He gently rubbed the wet paint with his thumb until it disappeared from her hand. “But he’s not at home?”

“No.”

She tried to stop her body from reacting to what he was doing. She tried to stop her mind from racing to thoughts that shouldn’t be there. Both her body and her mind betrayed her.

He licked a spot of blue paint on the knuckle of her middle finger and rubbed it, too. His hands were gentle and careful not to press too hard on her skin.

“Good.”

“Why do you ask?” she said, but she felt sure she knew.

“It’s useful information.” He looked down at Rascal, who didn’t bother to acknowledge him, and then to Sam whose short ears perked up. “If you hear anyone coming down the corridor, bark.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “Why did you say that to them?”

“Because I’ve missed you and I’m dying to kiss you again.”

The determination on his face could only be called predatory, heated. Primal. A shiver of anticipation and excitement raced through her. Her breaths became short gasps.

She backed up a little. “You are not supposed to kiss me the way you do.”

“I know.” He kept advancing on her. “But you do enjoy it, don’t you?”

She wanted to say no but couldn’t.

“You can stop me anytime you want to. Just tell me no and I’ll back away.”

And then she knew she couldn’t say no. Because the truth was, she wanted him to kiss her again. He drew her into his arms and up to his chest and claimed her lips for his own. As if it were the most natural thing for her to do, Angelina leaned into him and parted her lips. Harrison accepted her invitation and invaded her mouth with his tongue, alternating between short darting thrusts and long exploring strokes. His lips pressed hers long and hard, with deep feeling that stole her breath and left her senses reeling and wanting more.

She slipped her arms beneath the warmth of his coat and around his firm waist, pulling herself closer to him. She slid her hands up his ribs, past his broad back, wanting to feel the power in his shoulders.

Harrison ran his hands skillfully up and down the front of her apron, pressing them over her breasts, quickly awakening searing desire inside her. He gently squeezed and massaged her through her clothing. With his thumb and forefinger he searched for and found her nipples. He kneaded them seductively. His caresses were meant to entice her, stir her senses. and make her want more … and they did.

Angelina loved the way he was making her feel. A whispered sound of pleasure floated past her lips. Her body was responding eagerly to his touch.

“Now do you believe I missed you? That I had to see you and kiss you?”

“Yes,” she whispered. At the back of her mind she heard an odd sound from the dogs, but Lord Thornwick’s touch had her beyond thinking about anything except for how he was making her feel. Her mouth clung eagerly to his rough and demanding kisses. She slid her hands down to the firm muscle of his buttocks. She filled her hands with him.

The earl trembled and she smiled beneath his lips as he moaned and caught her bottom in his hands, too, lifting her up to his hardness.

“Feel how much I want you,” he said between kisses.

“I do,” she whispered.

Angelina melted against him, yielding to his strength as he pressed against her again and again. She heard the dogs continue to growl but pushed away the sounds in favor of the pleasure of the earl’s touch.

“Now tell me you missed me, Angelina. Tell me you were waiting for me to return and kiss you like this.”

She was about to say yes when she heard a warning growl from Sam. The dogs were no longer playing with one another. Something was going on between them. Sam could hurt Rascal or Mr. Pete within seconds. She pulled away from Lord Thornwick and twisted her head around to look behind her. All three dogs were holding a single piece of white cloth in their teeth, trying to pull it away from the others.

Breathlessly she pushed completely out of Harrison’s arms and turned toward the dogs. “Sam, Rascal, Mr. Pete, what do you three troublemakers have there?”

They paid her no mind, but continued growling.

As if sensing that they were about to lose what they held, Sam snapped at Mr. Pete. The puppy yelped.

“Sam! Sit. Bad dog! Rascal, sit.” Rascal and Sam obeyed immediately. Mr. Pete, thinking he had the item all to himself, was about to run away with it when Harrison caught him up in his arms and tore the cloth from his mouth.

“What were you three fighting over?” he asked and held up the item: a lady’s stays.

“Ah!” Angelina gasped and jerked them from Harrison’s hands, then hid the garment behind her back. Flames of heated embarrassment burned her neck and cheeks. All she wanted was for the floor to open and swallow her.

“It’s too late to hide it now, Angelina. I’ve already seen it. And I might add I’ve seen stays before. Though maybe not ones with so much lace on them.”

To Lord Thornwick’s credit, after his remark he pressed his lips together tightly to keep from laughing out loud. It did little to soothe her. She saw a wicked glint of humor in his eyes and his shoulders shaking with mirth. It had to be Mr. Pete who had wandered away and pilfered the stays from the laundry basket.

“Come on, all three of you are going outside,” Angelina said. “Now!”

She fled from the room and sent the dogs out the back door and into the misting rain. She didn’t want to go back and face Lord Thornwick, but she had to deny her mortification and just do it. On her way back to Lord Thornwick she stopped and stuffed the corset into a cabinet. Later she would put it in its proper place.

She put on a brave face and walked back into the room, hoping to appear as if nothing had happened. The earl was standing in front of the window looking at the violets he’d given her.

“All they needed was some morning light and the right amount of watering,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t make any further reference to her unmentionables.

He turned and gave her a tender smile. “I knew you would know what to do.”

“You can take them back home now. I’ve nursed them back to health for you. The new growth should produce blooms in a few days.”

He frowned. “These aren’t mine,” he said. “I bought them for you.”

She looked puzzled. “You bought half-dead violets for me?”

He nodded. “What would you do with flowers that needed no loving attention?”

“So you thought because I like to take care of wounded dogs, I would like wounded flowers, too.”

He gave her a rueful smile. “Was I wrong?”

She smiled, too. “No, Lord Thornwick, thank you.”

“It’s Harrison.” He leaned back against the window frame and crossed one foot over the other. “You must call me Harrison when we are alone. Especially now that I’ve seen—”

“Don’t,” she said firmly and held up her hand.

He laughed and it was so genuine and so wonderful that she started laughing, too. She might end up ruing the day her father said she could keep Mr. Pete.

“So after all we have been through together now, what is my name?”

She supposed it was a bit ridiculous for her to continue to call him Lord Thornwick after their passionate kisses. “Harrison,” she said. “But only when we are alone.”

“Accepted,” he said and walked closer to her. “Tell me, has Captain Maxwell kissed you yet?”

Does he know I wanted the captain to kiss me?

“What? No,” she said, feeling heat rise in her face again. “I’ve told you. Unlike you, he is a gentleman, an officer, a man of honor who follows the rules of Society.”

His eyes seemed to pierce hers as if he were trying to see into her soul and test her honesty. “But he is still a man.”

“He is a man and a very fine man,” she defended, feeling her hackles rise.

“If he desired you as much as I do, he would not let manners, rules, or anything else stop him from kissing you.”

“That is not true. He respects me.”

“I respect you greatly, Angelina. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I desire you more.”

She backed away from him. “I don’t want to talk about Captain Maxwell with you.”

“Fair enough. I don’t want to talk about him, either. But I do have a suggestion for you. If he won’t kiss you, you need to kiss him.”

Had he read her thoughts? Perhaps he had. Still, she said, “That’s an outrageous suggestion.”

“Maybe, but think about it anyway.” He walked past her but at the door stopped, looked back, and said, “If Captain Maxwell really wants you, I think it’s time that he starts fighting for you.”

Harrison turned and walked out.

Chapter 24

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are of imagination all compact.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream
5.1.4–6

Angelina’s plan was working like a well-wound clock. She and Captain Maxwell were sitting in the park on a blanket at the very same spot they had been little more than a week ago. The weather was cooperating, too. The stormy-looking skies had kept many people away from the park. Even Captain Maxwell had suggested they not go for fear they would get caught in a downpour. It had taken some talking but she had convinced her grandmother to allow them to go, insisting that many times gray skies didn’t lead to heavy rain.

A worried excitement churned inside her. One way or another, she was going to see to it that Captain Maxwell kissed her before he took her home. Things had been unsettled and sometimes tense between them since he’d come home, but today she was going to put an end to those feelings. She was going to rediscover the wonderful feelings that had given her so many happy memories the year he was gone. She would not let Lord Thornwick and his scoundrel ways of seducing her come between her and Captain Maxwell any longer.

She couldn’t.

After they were comfortable and the refreshment basket had been opened, Angelina asked, “Are you drinking brandy again, Captain?”

“Yes,” he answered. “But not for the pain today. I am drinking simply because I enjoy it.”

“Does that mean every day you are getting better?”

He looked down into his cup. “I like to think so. How is your punch?”

Angelina cleared her throat. “In need of a bit of brandy,” she said.

He blew out a half laugh, half grunt. “I don’t think your father would approve if I laced your punch with this.”

“We don’t always have to follow the rules, do we? Besides, he doesn’t have to know. I mean, I won’t tell him, will you?” She held her cup out to him.

“No, of course not. Still, I don’t think we should do that, Miss Rule.”

“I do,” she insisted. “Some rules were made to be broken, and this is one of them.”

He turned his head, looking from one side of the park to the other. “All right,” he said. “I don’t suppose a little will hurt.” He set his cup on the blanket and opened his flask. He poured a mere drop or two into her cup.

Angelina was having none of that. She took the flask from his hand and added a generous amount to her cup. If she was going to find the courage to force the captain to kiss her, she had to mask some of her inhibitions. With Harrison she didn’t have to worry about such things. He simply took charge and did exactly as he wanted, leaving her no choice but to be swept away by his pursuit of her. That was what she was going to have to do to the captain this afternoon.