The Reluctant Duke (A Seabrook Family Saga) (19 page)

Emma struggled
to ignore the loud thud of her heart and the heat spreading throughout her
body. He might desire her, but she would not marry without love. He said he
wasn’t marrying for love. Despite her feelings toward him, and the attraction,
she would have to prove to him she did not desire him. Not one bit . . .
Except…

“Emma.” Thomas
moaned as his mouth took hers in a gentle kiss. She tried not to respond. She
really did, but God help her, she desperately wanted to. Emma wanted to curl up
against his body and never leave. Every time he kissed her, her body craved
more…of something elusive. Now was no different, and she curled her arms around
his neck and leaned into his body. He groaned again, splayed both hands across
her back, and thrust his tongue deep in her mouth, sweeping it around, igniting
her.

A moan escaped
her lips. It bubbled up from deep inside. Her tongue joined with his, and they
twirled together in a dance made for lovers.

“Thomas,” Emma
whispered as moist heat pooled in the juncture of her thighs. Instead of
talking, he kissed his way down her neck, awakening sensations she didn’t think
possible. “What . . . what are you doing to me?”

His body
vibrated beneath her hands as she moved them up and down over his back.

“I am tasting
you, sweetheart,” she heard him murmur. “I want to kiss and lick every inch of
your delectable body. Does that shock you?”

“Yes . . . No .
. . Oh, my.”

Thomas’s lips
traveled to the exposed swell of her breasts, causing her knees to buckle. If
not for his strong arms holding her, she would have fallen to the rug. As it
was, she felt like a rag doll, boneless and pliant. When he tugged down her
gown and chemise, exposing her breasts to the chilly air, she gasped. When his
heated mouth covered her nipple and sucked it inside his mouth, Emma nearly
screamed at the pleasure deep within her belly.

She felt the
wetness between her legs and silently prayed she did not embarrass herself. Her
body felt as though it belonged to someone else. Emma had no control under
Thomas’s experienced touch.

“Do you like
this?” murmured Thomas, as one hand cupped and kneaded one breast while his
teeth playfully clamped down on the hard nipple of the other.

Emma gasped and
arched her back.

“What did you
say, sweetheart?” He chuckled. “I did not hear you.”

“Thomas, I . .
. can’t . . . talk.”

Both his hands
rose to cup her face, and she believed he stared into her very soul. “Why is
that?” His mouth dropped to hers, and this time the kiss overpowered her. His
lips, teeth, tongue were demanding, taking, and seeking all she had to give. So
engrossed was she by his kisses, Emma never noticed her skirts being dragged
up, until he gently touched her
there.

Tearing her
lips from his, she gasped. “What are you doing?”

“What I said I
wanted to do. I’m touching and tasting all of you.”

While her body
vibrated with some kind of unknown need, Thomas dropped to his knees. Her
breath hitched as he spread her legs and buried his face there.

“Oh, dear God,”
she whispered, barely breathing as she grabbed a handful of his thick hair and
held on.

“You are so wet,
my dear. You taste so sweet, like the nectar of the most desirable flower ever.
And you are all mine.” Thomas groaned as he licked his tongue up and down, in
and out, languidly, as if he had all day. Then he pushed a finger inside her,
causing her to stiffen in shock. When he moved it in and out, in and out, in
perfect rhythm, she bucked against his hand. Emma could not help it. Her head
rolled back, she closed her eyes, and her brain was blank to everything but the
sensations Thomas caused.

Emma inhaled loudly
and held her breath.

“Relax, and let
go,” he coaxed as his finger continued its quest and his thumb rubbed her nub
in little circles, faster, harder. Until her insides exploded with liquid heat
that expanded until she could no longer contain her screams of intense
pleasure. Her insides clenched tight against his finger until finally she
collapsed down to her knees, facing Thomas.

Burying her
head into his shoulder, she waited until her breathing slowed and coherent
thought returned. “What did you do to me?”

Thomas’s lips
brushed across her hair as he rubbed her back. “I helped you have a sexual
release, or to put it another way, I pleasured you. Do you not know what that
is?”

“Are you
mocking me?”

“Never,” Thomas
answered in a deep, strained voice. “I would never mock you. But when we are
married I will make you come, many times, every single night.”

Her stomach
flipped. “What about you? Did you have release as well?”

Having Emma in
his arms, asking whether he’d had release, sent a fissure of pleasure into his
heart. Obviously she had no idea what that meant for a man.

“My darling
Emma,” he whispered, clasping her hand, moving it to his straining erection,
and pushing her hand against it. His body shuddered and a moan escaped him. “I
did not have release.”

“Would you like
to?” she asked innocently.

Forcing his
brain to ignore the throbbing pain of his cock, he stood, bringing Emma with
him. She stared with glazed eyes while he fixed her dress.

“On our wedding
night, when I take your virginity, I will come inside your body and you will
milk me dry. And then we will truly belong to each other . . . forever.”

Suddenly Emma’s
eyes focused. “But I told you. I don’t want—”

Thomas placed
the tip of his index finger on her lips to silence her. “We are getting married.
I don’t want to hear another word about you returning to America unless we are
going together, on a vacation.” He walked to the window, pushed the drapes
aside, and glanced out to the gardens.

He knew if he
did not put some distance between himself and Emma, he would take her here and
now. His body burned so badly for her it took all his control to turn away from
her. Thomas wanted to push her soft, delectable, womanly body down on the rug
and take her over and over until neither of them could move or form a coherent
thought.

“In fact, you,
along with my mother and my sisters, leave for Stony Cross Manor in Dover
tomorrow. We marry in three weeks’ time.”

Emma brought
herself up tall, sticking her chin out indignantly. “Do I not have a say in
this?”

“No, you do
not. Now leave me and go supervise the packing of your belongings for the
trip.” Thomas did not know what fueled his blood more, the Emma who was soft
and pliant, flushed with sated lust, or the Emma who showed her anger. Being
married to her would never be boring. The nagging pain in his side had not
subsided as decisions were made. Indeed it lingered.

Thomas frowned
and left the room.

***

Two coaches,
each with a matched set of four, sat in front of his home––one carrying the
four women in Thomas’s life, the other piled high with trunks and carrying
their servants. As they pulled away from his home, a feeling of melancholy
penetrated his soul.

What the devil
was happening to him? Truthfully, he did not want to look too deeply for the
answer. He shook his head as he ordered Giles to have his horse readied to take
him to Amesbury’s.

His horse’s
gallop, though as smooth as always, jarred him and once again his stomach
clenched. There were times he feared he would not be able to keep his seat. The
pain dulled as he slowed his horse to a canter and then to a clomping walk down
the long drive.

Arriving at
Amesbury’s door, Thomas took the stairs two at a time and almost ran to
Amesbury’s chamber, where the door stood ajar. He entered and found his friend
sitting up and dressed in a deep green robe. His face had some color, his eyes
alert. On his lap sat a breakfast tray with plates of food. Taking a deep
breath to steady his relieved heart, Thomas walked further into the room.

“You look much
better.” Thomas sank down on a chair positioned beside the bed. “How do you
feel?”

His friend
blushed. “Good...” Amesbury paused and Thomas could almost see his mind
struggling for words. “I must apologize for my behavior, and I thank you and
Myles for keeping me alive. There is no doubt in my mind that is why I’m here
today.”

As he brought a
steaming cup of tea to his lips his hands trembled. “I feel a fool. Who would
have thought I would become…an opium-eater? There, I’ve said it.”

“Don’t. From
what the doctor says he sees this sort of thing more often than you think.
Laudanum is a powerful drug. Too widely used and abused, in his opinion. I hope
he warned you not to take it again?”

His friend
flinched. “Did
he
ever. My doctor has never shied away from the wrath of
the nobility, and he speaks the truth, popular or not. I believe he thinks he
is superior to all of us. Actually, he is. If it were not for him, I might be
dead, and so would many other people.”

Thomas wasn’t
sure of that, but he settled more comfortably in the upholstered chair,
stretching his legs out straight. “So, do you want to explain how this all came
about?”

Amesbury’s face
clammed up tight. “No.”

Just then Myles
entered the room, a wide grin plastered on his face. He looked from one
friend’s face to the next. “What is with the grim faces?” he asked.

Would Amesbury
speak for himself? After glancing at Amesbury, his brows raised in question,
Thomas answered the query. “He won’t share what happened to him. What caused
his addiction?”

“Yeah, well,”
Myles said, “I probably wouldn’t either if our roles were reversed. But they
are not, and I want to know as well.”

Amesbury glared
at both men. “You want to know the truth? Well, here it is. I have struggled
with opium since the accident that killed my family.”

Stunned, Thomas
let his jaw open and close. Christ, that was nearly three years ago. “How did
you hide it and why? you could have come to me or Myles for help.”

“Hiding it was
easy. The why of it, you ask? Well, perhaps someday I’ll share that with you,
but not now.”

“I’ll let it go
for now.” Thomas didn’t want to, but he would give Amesbury time. “Change of
topic. Did Myles tell you my news?”

Amesbury sat up
straighter in the enormous bed and look at him, then at Myles and back. “No.”

“Hell, I didn’t
think he could keep a secret.” He eyed Myles and tipped his head down slightly.
“I’m getting married in three weeks at my country estate. Will you both stand
up with me?”

“Married?”
Amesbury said in disbelief. “To whom, and how did this happen?”

Thomas found
himself chuckling at his friend’s reaction. “Suffice it to say I compromised
Emma, and now I’m going to be chained to her for all eternity.”

Myles turned to
him and grinned. “You actually sound pleased about it today. What happened
between yesterday and this morning to change your mind?”

“A gentleman
never divulges such personal information.”

Both his
friends laughed. “She wiggled into your heart, did she now?” Amesbury asked.

Had she?

She had indeed,
but Thomas would never admit it to them or to Emma. God only knew how it would
be held over his head if he did.

“Never mind me,
what about Lady Beth?” Thomas had spoken with Lady Beth last evening at the
Boonevilles’ and convinced her to break the betrothal. Deep down he hoped he
was not meddling where he didn’t belong. But Amesbury had truly been terrified
to marry her. Surely Thomas had done a good thing for all parties?

The relief on
Amesbury’s face confirmed that his interference was, indeed, a good thing. “As
a matter of fact, I received a missive from her father early this morning
breaking the betrothal. No explanation. But I’m relieved. I don’t know what I
was thinking when I proposed, anyway. I’m most definitely not ready for the
parson’s mousetrap.” Amesbury grinned and shrugged his shoulders, looking like
the old Amesbury they all knew. “I’m sorry for your circumstances, Wentworth.”

“You’re not
sorry. You’re laughing your ass off at my expense.” Thomas turned to Myles.
“Stop it. Just wait until it’s your turn. I
will
remember this.”

“Indeed, I have
no doubt you will,” Myles replied. “So tell me how your mother took it.”

“She lectured me
about being good and kind to her. Nothing about what the gossips are saying.”
Taking a deep breath, he let it out. “She surprised the bloody hell out of me.
I expected yelling and a lecture about how disappointed she was in me, but none
of that happened. I think she’s glad.”

“Why, of course
she is,” Amesbury added. “She’ll be getting her heir and a lovely
daughter-in-law.”

Thomas’s
stomach turned queasy and he swallowed the bile fighting to escape his throat.
“What if my bride-to-be finds out about the card game, about her real family
name and how her father killed himself, albeit because he was so very ill?”

“How will she
find out? The only ones privileged with that knowledge are in this room. Unless
you count Mr. Hamilton’s barrister,” Myles said.

“I’m not as
worried about what she will think of me when and if she learns the truth. I can
deal with an angry wife. But she must not learn that her father committed
suicide.” Thomas paused to reflect. “I realize he was ill and without hope of
recovery, but she does not know that. She would think he ended his life because
he lost everything to me, and I would look like the devil incarnate. And, truth
be told, I don’t want her hurt. I don’t want her to know her father took his
own life even if he was sick. I know that would tear her apart. Not to mention
the family scandal, what with her grandfather’s hanging as a traitor to the
Crown. No indeed, she does not need to know the truth about her origins. I pray
the Trenton family scandal is not linked to her. Her father was wise to change
his name.”