The Seduction of Sarah Marks (18 page)

“We just did.” She grinned and stepped back. “Now dress me.”

He chuckled and looked at Lilith standing before him, wearing nothing but a bandage around her thigh, her mouth swollen from their kiss, her hair in wild disarray, and the tips of her round breasts still peaked. “God, you’re stunning. But you’re beginning to sound like me giving orders, so I think I might have unleashed a wildcat.”

He picked up one of the pieces of fabric and turned it about. “This seems to be the skirt, but how do you suppose it’s going to work getting it on with your leg the way it is? Should I pull it over your head or bring it up from the bottom?”

“I think if you kneel and let me lean on your shoulders, I can lift my bad leg enough to slip it on.”

He crouched down, only to find himself staring straight at that glorious triangle of soft, blonde curls. A raw, naked edge of lust shot right through him. “Get this thing on fast, Lilith, before I toss you back on the bed and show you what else I can do with my tongue.”

She giggled and stepped into the skirt, slower with her bad leg. “And here I thought you were a man of finesse.”

He stood, holding her shoulders, and pressed a quick, hot kiss on her mouth. His gaze slipped back down to those splendid breasts. Who knew when they had first met that she looked so good beneath all her clothing? “Talk to me about finesse in two weeks, and we’ll see what you have to say.”

“You’re staring, dear. You might want to help me into the other part of the…whatever it’s called.”

He grabbed the top half of the costume and slipped it over her head. As her naked chest disappeared beneath the loose frock that fell to her hips, he let go a blatant sigh. “I’ll have you know it was with great reluctance that I did that.”

She shoved a hand through her hair. “Now what to do with this?”

He lifted her up and carried her to a chair, and after tucking her feet into the matching slippers, he picked up her brush lying on a toilette tray. “Let’s leave your hair down.”

The moment stretched between them, with him combing through her silken locks, and her sitting quietly while he tended her. His chest tightened. In the years to come, there would be other moments like this. He would do this for her after their children were born. He’d do so when her hair no longer held its sheen and was white as the shirt he wore.

Lost in a wave of pleasure that nearly took him under, he bent and kissed the top of her head. He had to clear his throat to speak. “Have you written to Mrs. Hazelthorpe and thanked her for playing the matchmaker?”

Chapter Twenty-three

Doctor Hemphill bent over the side of the bed, a pair of spectacles perched on his nose. He held a pair of scissors in one hand and long, shiny tweezers in the other, ready to snip away. Lilith found it hard to believe only ten days had passed since the accident—it seemed so much longer. At least the stitches were finally being removed.

He clipped at the first set and gave a sharp tug to pull it free from her skin.

She winced.

He paused, studying her eyes. “Hurts?”

Eastleigh, his body tense, grunted and stepped from the end of the bed to stand on the side opposite Hemphill. He slipped his hand into hers and scowled at the doctor.

She bit her lip. “Like bee stings, but please, continue.”

Eastleigh squeezed her hand. She squeezed back and turned from the doctor to her husband. He gave her an encouraging smile. How comforting. This was home.
He
was home. Here was her world now and he was in it—every step of the way. Even his family, who’d returned—the men boisterous below, Rose, Iris, and Violet scampering around in the upper hallways, and Mum calling for tea—was part of it. Even Lilith’s mother had settled in and was softening daily. Here was a bright thread in the tapestry of Lilith’s life. Here was something she had never had—or knew existed. The preciousness of what she now possessed would never be lost on her.

“How are you faring?” Eastleigh’s rough voice was filled with concern.

She smiled reassuringly. “Not so bad, after all. I think I was more apprehensive of what I didn’t know to expect. I’m fine.”

Ah, her husband. Could she possibly have fallen more deeply in love in only ten days? Despite a house full of Malverns, she and Eastleigh had managed to live in a world of their own while she healed. He was constantly by her side, insisted on carrying her to the garden each sunny day until she complained she was no cripple. After that, he walked her there, to sit among the weeds, he’d say, but his sultry grin left no doubt he took great joy in pampering her. He made it clear he’d do anything to see she healed properly, yet the broad stroke of his strong will told her he was no weakling to be manipulated or made to bend to her wishes.

On the contrary.

Yes, here was her home. No longer was it an edifice or a space to be occupied by noisy people intent on out-shouting or out-laughing one another. And hopefully, there would be free-spirited children running around in the corridors, playing in the fields. Oh, how she wanted that for her and Eastleigh.

He’d insisted on being the one to change her bandages daily, making certain she was discreetly covered when Doctor Hemphill examined the wound. Lilith had laughed when Eastleigh announced to a proud Mum that for once her home-brewed gin was worthwhile. Even Hemphill said pouring the throat-burning rot through Lilith’s open wound rather than down her gullet was just the thing. No infection had set in.

Another snip of the scissors, a brisk tug, and the last stitch broke free from her leg. She hissed.

Eastleigh grunted and gave her hand another squeeze.

“Good as new.” Hemphill stepped away from the bed. Slipping his scissors into his worn black leather bag, he nodded to Tildy, who gathered the used bandages. On their exit, Doctor Hemphill said, “You’re free to do anything you wish, except ride a horse.”

Lilith laughed. “Oh, dear, you have no concern of that occurring. I do thank you for everything.”

The door closed silently behind the doctor and Tildy, leaving Lilith and Eastleigh alone. She glanced at the mantel clock. Only noon? Good heavens, would nightfall ever come to pass? Soon there would be a meal, and then Mum’s high tea with all the rowdy Malverns gathered.

“I expect you had better get off the bed so we can make our way downstairs,” Eastleigh said. “I’m famished.”

Silence stretched between them as he regarded her with what she knew pounded in her own veins, as well. Night after night, he’d held her in his arms, not daring to cross a line lest he injure her leg. But he’d touched her—intimately at times—and he’d ignited flames in both of them that nothing but each other would extinguish.

“I am famished, as well.” She tapped the bed next to her.

He regarded her, passion in his eyes. “You’re certain?”

“I should be asking you that question. Have you any concerns about another terrible episode occurring? Look what you had to contend with after the last time we made love.”

“My dear, the shock of nearly losing you should have triggered something, but I haven’t had an episode in ten days.”

A sultry grin touched his lips. “Besides, if one of those blasted things were to come along, didn’t we agree that we’d see each other through whatever happens in our lives?”

Her heart tripped a beat. “Have I failed to mention that I am glad you delivered me to your chamber after the surgery? This isn’t merely a bed, Eastleigh. This is our world now, and it will bear witness to many lives who will follow after us. Come. It’s time.”

His breath left his lungs in a great whoosh.

“I’ve had a lot to think about lying around in this bed for so long,” she said. “I want you to teach me another lesson. Do you have it in you?”

Loosening his cravat, he tossed it aside. Without taking his eyes from hers, he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. “I want more than to simply lie with you, Lilith. I, too, want to make something beautiful of our lives that will remain long after we are gone.”

His words were a verbal caress, and the tenderness of their meaning drew a mist into her eyes. “Only an artist would speak in such a poetic way. Another reason for me to be grateful I sent that letter off to our matchmaker.”

He offered her a sultry grin and shrugged off his shirt. Then he worked at removing his shoes and trousers. The muscles in his arms and across his broad chest rippled. Watching his movements, her body sprang to life. This close to him, her mind was unable to focus on anything but his physical presence. Her breasts tightened and her thighs heated—and then that little bud between them ached for more of what he’d done to her all these nights she’d curled next to him.

The pulse in her neck beat in furious arousal, and then the beat ran rampant through her. A little moan escaped her lips

He glanced at her and chuckled, low and throaty. Divested of his clothing, he slipped her robe and drawers from her and slid between the sheets alongside her. His naked heat seeped into her. His subtle musk—all the more enticing bereft of cologne, enveloped her.

His arms wrapped around her, and he kissed her. There was no prelude to this kiss. They’d had plenty of those while waiting for her leg to heal. She knew his taste, knew his scent. All familiar. The rest of it was far too long in coming. His mouth assaulted hers in a full, hot-blooded exchange—kiss for lethal kiss that drew their heated bodies together.

“I love you,” she cried out.

He withdrew, just enough to lift his shoulders and peer deep into her eyes. Something close to pain settled in his. “I needed to hear that.”

And then he thrust into her, so deep she felt his pelvis connect with hers. He didn’t move, but held himself completely still inside her, filling her. His large body, a contrast to her smaller one, hovered against hers, weightless, while his arms caged her in and his scent surrounded her.

He nestled his mouth into the curve of her neck and murmured, “Before we go any further, while my body is fitted inside of yours, I want you to know I fell in love with you the day you could not remember who I was. You were so vulnerable, yet so strong. And so incredibly beautiful.”

His words, hoarse and filled with intensity and tenderness, fell quietly upon her ears. “But my commitment to you came long before that, Lilith. I need you, and now I know you need me, as well. You, dear wife, are my forever.”

Epilogue

Seven months later

Lilith sat abed, devouring the luscious sight of her husband in the act of dressing for the day. He gave one last tug at his waistcoat, and then ran his hands through his hair with a flourish. Those supple curls she loved to touch fell magically into place. “Have you ever thought of using a hair brush, dear?”

He wiggled his fingers at her. “Just did.”

Tossing her a wink, he strolled over to where she’d propped herself against a stack of pillows. Sinful thoughts leapt from her mind and landed in her belly, turning into heated deliberations. She would seduce him before he walked out the door.

She shifted about at the very idea. The bedding pooled around her waist, exposing the silk negligee he’d given her the night before. French, pale blue trimmed in a froth of white lace. His was an act of worship when he’d draped it on her—an act of sheer lust when he’d removed it barely an hour later.

A kiss on her forehead, and he motioned with his head toward a letter lying on her bedside table. “Are you going to keep that blasted thing under our noses until it turns to dust?”

She glanced at the missive. “I’ve been debating whether or not to inquire of the smithy as to which horse trampled my father.”

Eastleigh scowled.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Did I sound terribly shallow just then? I hadn’t meant to. It’s just that I can’t help wondering how the horse fared after being beaten half to death. I imagine my father thought the poor thing a convenient substitute on which to vent his rage since my mother and I were no longer available as his whipping posts.”

“He should’ve known a horse would only take so much abuse before it turned on him.”

A shudder ran through her. “Still and all, his death must have been a horrific one.”

Eastleigh brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “I’ve got better use for this letter than having the blasted thing stare us in the face every day.”

He strode across the room and tossed it into the fire. The paper curled brown at the edges and then burst into flame. “The entire sordid affair is nearly four months passed, Lilith. It’s time to let it go.”

As the paper turned to ash, a quick pain pricked her heart. But then the small black cloud that had hovered over her since the letter arrived dissipated. “You’re right. Yes, of course.”

She took in a slow breath, and in relief, let it go all at once. One lacey strap fell off her shoulder. “Speaking of months, dear.”

At her quick change of subject, Eastleigh wheeled around. “I don’t recall the word
months
being an entire subject.” Amusement sketched a near-smile on his lips, and faint lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “What are you up to?”

She granted him her sauciest smile. “It’s been eight months since Rob saved my life and…”

“Since
Rob
saved your life? What the deuces was I doing at the scene, dancing a jig?”

Her laughter, soft and low, filled the air between them. “You know perfectly well what I mean. Skewered on that branch like I was, I would’ve drowned before your arrival had it not been for him.”

Eastleigh crossed one booted foot over the other and leaned onto his elbow parked on the mantel. He set to lazily flicking at his chipped tooth and regarding her through veiled lids. “Something’s grinding away in that rather dangerous mind of yours that has me on virtual tenterhooks.”

Her gaze roved his indolent stance. “I can tell.”

Yes, seducing him before he got out the door was just the thing. Participating in a wanton act while fully clothed could be quite delicious at times. Like sinful French chocolates. She’d grown to adore all things French since he’d introduced her to them. “I feel a reward is in order for your cousin having saved me.”

Eastleigh’s brow lifted. “Do tell? And by the manner in which you are regarding me, what do you have in mind?”

“Don’t be crude. How I look at you has nothing to do with your cousin.”

“Ah, do I suspect Mum’s tutoring at work here? How well she’s taught you the tricks of witchery.”

Even with her gaze trapped in his, she could easily take in his full form. Good. She had him aroused. “Do you realize you haven’t had one of those dreadful episodes since you recovered the missing pieces of your memory? Not one megrim since you found peace with Rob?”

His jaw dropped. “No, I hadn’t realized.”

“You owe him. I’d like you to give part of your land to him. He’s not got—”

Eastleigh shot forward. “Bloody hell, give him my land!”

“Oh, lord love a duck, Eastleigh. Why do you need so much dirt? Don’t be greedy.”

“Madam, I earned every inch of land I possess. I rode that damn donkey until I had blisters on my arse for weeks.”

Now it was her turn to lift a brow. “Indeed? And will you have earned all that you will one day inherit merely because of your birth order?”

“That’s different.”

Pushing the covers aside, Lilith slipped from the bed and waltzed over to where her husband stood. Sliding her arms around his neck, she fitted her body against his. He was so warm, and smelled so clean. “Will we reside here or there when you become the earl?”

His fingers, gentle as a breeze, swept the length of her silk-clad hip, sending more heat streaking through her. “Here.”

Her hands wandered from his neck to his chest. His heart thudded heavy in her hand. “Well and good, because I love it here. But what will become of all you inherit if—”

“Whatever you have in mind, cease. Will is to remain in residence there with Mother. God knows my sister will require a place of her own since she’ll never marry. Besides, there’s no better person to take care of the property.”

He’d slowly worked Lilith’s negligee above her hips while they spoke. When had he flipped open the buttons on his trousers? “By the way, dear wife,” his voice rasped, thick and husky. “I have
already
parceled off a good portion of land to Rob.”

“Do tell?”

He grasped her waist, turned her around, and bent her over the foot rail of the bed. His hand drifted along her bare hips, and tiny shivers danced along her skin already flush with yearning.

His breath brushed hot against her nape. “My solicitor awaits downstairs, darling. And I’m to meet Rob this afternoon if you care to join us. In the meantime, I’ve rather enjoyed your blatant teasing to the point of disrupting my schedule. Care to have a go at a quick and wild ride?”

…

Lilith sat in front of the curricle alongside Eastleigh while Mum, pleased as a child with a new toy, rode in the rear, chattering endlessly about the fine scenery and the crisp autumn air painting the leaves in shades of gold and orange. But mostly, she carried on about how the apple crop was exceptionally fine this season—which to Mum, translated into an abundance of apple cider.

“Who might that be?” Lilith squinted at a couple meandering along a path leading to Hemphill’s cottage. A shockwave ran through her. “Why, that’s Mother and Doctor Hemphill!”

She turned to Eastleigh, her jaw slackening. “Are they holding hands? With her in mourning?”

“Oh, it’s quite all right,” Mum called from behind. “She’s wearing black.”

Eastleigh grinned and leaned toward Lilith’s ear. “You aren’t the only woman Mum’s been tutoring. Better close your mouth, dearest, there are flies about.”

When the curricle turned onto the lane leading to Rob’s home, Eastleigh groaned at the sight of the two horses’ rear ends planted on either side of the drive.

Lilith couldn’t resist a tease. “Haven’t they weathered nicely? The green patina and all.”

Eastleigh scowled.

Mum tapped Lilith on the shoulder. “Robbie made a mistake when he created those two horses’ arses.”

“Isn’t that the profound statement of the ages.” Eastleigh’s words dripped with sarcasm.

“They’d have been perfect,” Mum replied, “if Robbie had engraved your name on one fat rump and his on the other.”

Lilith passed a gloved hand over her mouth. Little good that did to stifle the giggle.

Eastleigh shook his head. “Enjoy the ride, Mum.”

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” she responded.

When they arrived, Rob stood next to the stable, turning a piece of glowing metal into some kind of art form. Like the first time Lilith had wandered onto his land, he wore no shirt, only a leather apron to prevent flying sparks from burning his flesh. He set down his hammer and the branch of hot metal. Removing his gloves and apron, he donned his shirt, but not before Lilith caught sight of the garish scar on his side. A little quiver of revulsion rippled over the skin on her arms.

He regarded no one in particular. “I don’t suppose you’ll be staying long?”

“Stuff it, Rob,” Eastleigh growled. “I’ve come to deliver the deed. However, I should be more than content to have my solicitors rearrange things, if you are so inclined.”

A smirk lifted one corner of Rob’s mouth. “Does this mean I have to be cordial and invite you in?”

Mum danced forward, her countenance filled with joyfulness. “I could go for a bit of cordial, if it’s cherry.”

Rob grinned and jerked his head toward the house. “Got some good French brandy inside, Mum.”

“Even better.” She turned to Eastleigh, her huge blue hat bouncing about and threatening to disgorge the fresh flowers she’d planted there. “He’s got French brandy. Do come along.”

Before he and Rob disappeared into the library, Lilith and Mum were escorted into the very room Lilith had entered the day she’d sought Rob out. This time, she took her time looking around.

As sumptuous as the surroundings were, Rob’s home lacked something. Or was it someone? “He doesn’t seem to have any servants, Mum. Why is that?”

“Oh, he employs them, dear, but they are sent off to their homes by late afternoon. Cook leaves an evening meal for him. Robbie keeps to himself.”

“Since the war?”

Mum poured herself another brandy and leaned forward. “I’ll have you know, Sir Crocodile and the prince were holy terrors when they caroused together in London. See that half-finished portrait? Word got back to me on more than one…”

The door to Rob’s study opened. Mum’s mouth shut. When they rose to leave, Lilith turned to Eastleigh. “Might you escort Mum to the carriage? I’d like a moment with Rob.”

Eastleigh’s brow cocked, but he said nothing and took Mum’s arm. Lilith waited until the door closed behind them. “I have never told Eastleigh about a certain incident which took place between you and me when I came here to tell you Mum had taken ill. I thought you should know.”

Rob said nothing, but something passed through his eyes that looked as though it might be relief.

She lifted her chin. “Mind you, I would never keep anything of consequence from my husband, but since what occurred was merely a slight misunderstanding, I thought it not worth the mention.”

A brief smile passed over Rob’s mouth. “Clever girl. What do you want?”

“Would you give consideration to replacing those two distasteful equine back ends with something a little more seemly?”

He paused for a long while, regarding her with those dark eyes that never failed to penetrate. Mischief settled in, and his lids grew heavy. “No.”

Stubborn fool.
“I’m appealing to your sensibilities as a fine artist.”

He gave a little snort. “Just because I’m good at what I do, doesn’t mean I’m not a bit wicked.”

Blast it, all.
“Well, then. I’ll be on my way.”

“I’ll see you out.” They were passing the stable in silence when he paused, picked up the huge leather bellows, and giving them a good couple of blasts, set the fire to flaming and sparking as though it sprouted wings from hell.

Lilith turned on her heel and made for the curricle. “Oh, if he isn’t the very devil doing that,” she grumbled as Eastleigh handed her into the carriage.

“Care to spend the night, Mum?” Rob called out, his arms folded across his broad chest, an impious grin on his face.

Mum nearly bolted from the back seat of the carriage. With a chuckle, Eastleigh eased her to the ground and climbed aboard.

“That man is nigh on impossible,” Lilith grumbled. “And he has secrets. Dark ones. Who’s that woman in the painting?”

Eastleigh turned the two grays toward home and, without a backward glance, lifted a gloved hand in farewell. “He wouldn’t agree to remove the horses’ arses, would he?”

“How would you know what I was up to? And do answer my question.”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his breath fanning her skin. “Darling, allow the man his secrets. We should all have a few.”

She gave him a sweeping glance. “You have secrets?”

“Do you?”

She tried to swallow a giggle but failed. “Do I?”

The carriage came to a sudden stop. “Lilith?” His voice broke in the middle of her name and his gloved hand tugged at her chin, forcing her to look his way.

Was that hope shining in his eyes? Her heart set to beating wildly. Oh, how she loved this man. “I don’t suppose I’ll have my greatest secret much longer, will I?”

“Don’t tease me, Lilith.”

She laughed and threw her arms around him. “Oh, my darling. This child I carry will be so very blessed to have you as a father.”