What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1) (33 page)

His words enveloped her like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. “It’s because I love you, so very much,” she cried, “that I cannot let you make such a sacrifice. There is no dowry. I have nothing to offer —”

“I do not need money, Sophie,” he laughed incredulously. “Dudley and I, we were sensible enough to invest our earnings in order to provide a yearly income. I shall never need to think about money again. Besides, if you care anything for the welfare of little Mary Hodges and the rest of my tenants, you have to marry me.”

Sophie raised a brow and smiled coyly. “Oh and why is that?”

“Because without you, I am afraid I may resort to buying diamond-encrusted watches or be forced to start a collection of rare snuff boxes, all in the hope of dulling the pain.” He shuffled forward and cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips. “I cannot live without you. I am even prepared to write to Bertram and offer him the running of Westlands. If you’ll let me stay here with you.”

Her heart skipped a few beats and a lump formed in her throat. He would sacrifice everything he had ever worked for, everything he had achieved, for her. She could not live without this man and he could not live without her. Somehow she would make it work.

“There will only ever be one Mr. Shandy at Westlands,” she replied, “and it will not be your second cousin Bertram.”

He took her hand in his. “Say you’ll be my wife?” Too impatient to wait for her answer, he pulled her up into his arms and kissed her deeply. “Marry me.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you.”

Amidst breathless kisses, the words
I love you
passed back and forth between them until Dane suddenly stopped. “Wait there,” he said rushing out of the door. He returned with the red velvet pouch. “It was to be a wedding present, but I can’t wait.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Is it my mother’s necklace?”

“No,” he corrected. “It’s your necklace.” He removed it from the pouch and held it out to her. “Here let me put it on. I have spent a whole month dreaming of you wearing this.”

“I can’t wear it with this dowdy old dress,” Sophie exclaimed, gesturing towards the brown muslin.

Dane cast a lascivious smirk. “My thoughts exactly,” he drawled. He gestured to the bed behind them. “And I believe we have some catching up to do.”

Epilogue

Eighteen months later

Sebastian opened his eyes, stretched and turned to drape his arm over his wife’s warm body — except the bed was empty. Assuming she had gone to the nursery, he yawned as he pulled the coverlet up around his shoulders and drifted back off to sleep. Indeed, it was some time before he was woken by his valet, walking jauntily into the room with a breakfast tray.

Sebastian propped himself up on his elbows and glanced at Claude with some amusement. “I take it Mrs. Bernard is in a good mood this morning?” he asked. Although looking at Claude’s happy disposition, he knew the answer to his question.

“She is still talking about Lord Delmont’s personal compliment regarding the smooth running of the garden party,” Claude answered, placing the tray on the bed next to Sebastian without so much as a glimmer of discontent. “I fear we shall all be hearing about it for months.”

He should invite Delmont more often, Sebastian thought with a chuckle as he glanced down at the tray, his stomach rumbling in desperation at the delicious sight of sliced ham and eggs. “And what good deed have I performed to deserve such a treat?”

Claude bowed. “Lady Danesfield felt that you would need sufficient sustenance for your excursion today,” he replied.

Like a man who had just regained consciousness after a serious drinking bout, Sebastian frantically searched his mind in the hope of remembering what was significant about the day. “Did she happen to mention where we are going?”

“It is all in the letter, my lord,” Claude said as he offered a bow. Noticing Sebastian’s confused expression, as there was no sign of a letter on the tray, Claude added, “You must finish your meal before I have permission to hand it over.”

Sebastian smiled. Once again, Sophie had managed to pique his interest. He could barely contain himself during his meal as her unpredictability always roused an element of excitement, coupled with an element of fear.

“There, all gone,” Sebastian said swallowing down the last morsel and sounding somewhat like a boy in the schoolroom.” The letter, if you please,” he said, holding out his hand.

Claude bowed, handed over the sealed note and removed the tray from the room.

Sebastian leaned back against the pillows and read the cryptic note, smiling when he got to the part that said, “having experienced feelings of rapturous pleasure in every room in the house, I suddenly realised there is a case of unfinished business that requires our attention. Should you wish to bring this business to fruition, you will know where to find me.”

Jumping out of bed as though the sheets were ablaze, he didn’t wait for Claude to return and dressed with haste while he considered the note. What possible unfinished business could they have? Scanning through once more, he acknowledged the seductive undertone. He hoped she didn’t expect him to travel all the way to High Wycombe. Although from his recollection, there was nothing left unfinished from their time there. No, wherever she’d gone, it couldn’t be more than a few hours ride. Then inspiration struck and he hurried down to the stables to find Haines.

Coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of one of the stable boys brushing down Altair, Sophie’s current horse of choice, Sebastian called out to Haines and the man in question came lumbering out of one of the stalls. “Which horse did Lady Danesfield take this morning?” Sebastian asked.

“She’s gone out in the gig, my lord,” Haines replied, scrunching his weathered brow. “She was going to ride Cronus as Altair needs a new shoe but then decided on the gig.”

“And you did not think to stop her?”

“I don’t expect Lady Danesfield would take instruction from a coachman,” Haines informed him in a tone that made Sebastian feel stupid for even asking the question.

“I wouldn’t worry, Haines. She does not take instruction from her husband either,” Sebastian sighed. “Did she happen to mention where she was going?”

Haines' mouth straightened into the beginnings of a weak grin. “I’m afraid I can’t say, my lord. But know that Haines always keeps his eyes on the road, always looks straight ahead, even when he arrives a little too early with a chattering maid in tow.” He turned and looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Although I’d best not say chattering now that she’s my wife.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian said patting him on the shoulder.

Sophie heard the thunderous pounding on the dusty road but did not sit up. She was lying on a blanket, her hands cupping her head, looking up at a perfectly blue sky when Dane dropped down beside her.

“I remember feeling overwhelmed by the beauty of this place,” she said propping herself up on her elbows to look out over Rockingham Pool, “and it is just as spectacular now.”

“I’m afraid I cannot comment on its beauty,” he replied still a little breathless from his journey. “Nothing could compare to the look of pure pleasure on your face when I brought you here. I have never forgotten it.” He glanced down at her breeches and let his fingers trail along the soft curves of her thighs.

“It is a special place for me,” she sighed as she looked up at him. “I tried to fight my feelings for you, but it is impossible not to love you. Everything changed the day we came here.”

Dane smiled. “Everything changed for me, too. I am just sorry that the memory was tainted by me hurling you into the carriage.”

She sat up and put her hand on his cheek. “Which is why I think we should finish what we started,” she said blushing slightly. “There is a secluded spot just to the right, behind those trees.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with unbridled passion. “Have I told you how much I love you, how much I want you?”

“Every day,” she sighed with pleasure. Getting to her feet, she took hold of his hand and pulled him towards the trees. “Come, it would not be wise for you to be seen kissing Mr. Shandy and little William is in desperate need of a sibling to keep him company.”

Dane inclined his head. “But next time, do you think you might wear a dress? I find breeches so cumbersome.”

Sophie gave a coy smile. “Next time, you must surprise me. But know that I’ve always found a military uniform rather appealing.”

“What about a pirate? I’ve often fancied setting sail in search of treasure.”

She pulled him behind the trees and devoured his mouth while her hands ravaged his body. When they broke for breath, she said, “Did you ever hear the story about the prince and the pirate princess?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, the princess was forever stealing into places unnoticed,” she said, stripping off his waistcoat and running her palms over his shoulders. “I should have a care, as one day you may come home to find she has captured your study.”

“Now my mind is busy concocting all sorts of lascivious images. Should such a scandalous event ever occur, there must be some way I’d be able to reclaim it.”

“Oh, she has her price. But you will have to wait to find out what it is?”

Thank you!

Thank you for reading
What You Desire
.
If you’d like to be the first to find out about new releases and catch a peek at preview chapters, then why not head over to my website —
www.adeleclee.com
— and sign up for my monthly newsletter.

If you would like to read an excerpt from my next book,
Lost to the Night
,
please turn the page.

You can read Madame Labelle’s and Marcus Danbury’s story in
What You Propose
which will be available in March 2016.

Adele x

Coming Soon!

Lost to the Night

(The Brotherhood Series, Book 1)

Chapter 1

A tavern in Schiltach, Bavaria, 1818

Alexander Cole’s blood gushed through his veins like hot, molten lava. The sweet fire that consumed him had nothing to do with the buxom wench at his side, merrily massaging his cock.

“You like it,” she giggled playfully, shaking her fleshy wares as if they were easy to miss.

Alexander groaned as she tightened her grip and nuzzled his ear. Yet he continued to stare at the woman sitting on the opposite side of the tavern.

He’d noticed her walk in minutes earlier. She’d not ordered a drink, but sat shrouded in a sapphire-blue cloak, boldly watching him. Was she aware of the eager hand pleasuring him beneath the table? Was that the reason she stared?

Alexander.

Despite downing copious amounts of wine and ale, his mind suddenly stilled, the noise of the boisterous crowd drowned out by a soft sibilant whisper. He heard his name echoing through the silent chambers of his mind: a siren’s call — luring him, drawing him, forcing him to follow.

Alexander.

He glanced around the crude room, its stone walls and low beams relics of a bygone era, searching for Reeves and Lattimer. Reeves was asleep on the wooden bench, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a tankard as he cuddled it to his chest. Two weeks of drunken debauchery had definitely taken its toll. Through the cloudy mist of stale tobacco smoke, he spotted Lattimer climbing the stairs. The eager wench was pulling him up by his hand, his reluctance due to an unsteady gait as opposed to a lack of enthusiasm.

Alexander.

He heard his name again, the seductive tones of a woman’s sated whisper dragging him back to the mysterious creature across the room.

The wench at his side continued pumping, yet his focus moved to the enchantress, who had lowered the hood of her cloak to reveal a mane of silky golden tresses. He sucked in a breath, captivated by her full red lips and porcelain skin. Drinking in the sight, he groaned as she put the tip of her tongue to her lips and moistened the entrance to her mouth.

Compelled by a sudden wave of disgust, he slapped his hand over the wench’s sweaty fingers.

“Oh, you want to help.”

“No,” he growled pushing her hand away, his desire for a stranger the motivating factor.

He threw a few coins onto the table and hastily buttoned the fall of his breeches.

The golden-haired goddess smiled, raised her hood and moved gracefully to the door before escaping out into the night.

As though connected by an invisible thread, he followed her to the door and yanked it open, ignoring the wench’s cries of protest — jealousy being a trait he despised.

Rain lashed against the solid oak door and he winced as it pelted his face, quick and sharp, almost knocking him back. He could just make out his quarry crossing the muddy road, heading towards a carriage. Pulling his coat more firmly across his chest, he snuggled into it and braved the weather — some strange force urging him to take the next step.