Whisper To Me of Love (46 page)
Read Whisper To Me of Love Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
“Royce?” she asked breathlessly, her breasts boldly peaking beneath his touch, her eyes cloudy with awakening passion.
He smiled, a lazy, possessive smile, and murmured, “I wondered when you would notice my predicament and decide to help, er, rid me of its embarrassing presence... .”
Already the willing victim of her body's reawakened demands, Morgana dazedly nodded her head and reached eagerly for him. He brushed her seeking fingers aside and groaned, muttering, “No, I don't think soâI am like a cannon that has been primed once too often.... Touch me and I'm afraid that we will both be disappointedâyou, of course, more than me!”
The golden eyes glittering with all the suppressed passion he had within him, Royce pulled her to him and kissed her ravenously, his hands sliding over her body, swiftly bringing her once again to a point of pleading delight. Nearly out of control himself, he rolled onto his back, and guiding Morgana's eager body over him, he thrust upward violently, burying himself within her tight, warm sheath, impaling her with his bulging shaft.
Mindless with pleasure, filled with him, recklessly Morgana rode his arching body, her hips grinding down against him. It was a violent, hungry mating, both giving each other such fierce pleasure that when the raging storm of ecstasy hit them, Royce fairly exploded within her, shouting aloud his release, and Morgana, her body shaking from the force of her rapture, collapsed bonelessly against him, blissfully certain that one really could die of pleasure.
C
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L
ost in the world that only lovers share, through the deepening purple twilight they slowly walked back to the house, their arms entwined, Morgana's dark head resting against Royce's shoulder. There was little sign of the wild passion they had shared such a short time ago, although a sharp eye would have noticed instantly that Royce's cravat was not as meticulously tied as it had been and that Morgana's curls were riotously tousled and that the spangled pink ribbon was mysteriously missing.
ost in the world that only lovers share, through the deepening purple twilight they slowly walked back to the house, their arms entwined, Morgana's dark head resting against Royce's shoulder. There was little sign of the wild passion they had shared such a short time ago, although a sharp eye would have noticed instantly that Royce's cravat was not as meticulously tied as it had been and that Morgana's curls were riotously tousled and that the spangled pink ribbon was mysteriously missing.
The sweet rapture that existed between them at this moment was a rare and splendid thing, and neither one of them was eager for the fears and anxieties that hovered just beyond conscious thought to intrude. Each was utterly enchanted by the other, and though the word “love” had not been spoken aloud between them, it would have been blatantly obvious to anyone who saw them that they were deeply, irrevocably, in love.
Perhaps the danger that threatened Morgana made these moments even more cherished, Royce didn't know; he only knew that he had never known or had never expected to know such fierce pleasure in the act of lovemaking, nor the depth of the warm contentment he experienced just having her near him. She was infinitely precious to him, but it never occurred to him to tell her so, it never dawned on him to say the words that would have banished the last lingering doubt in her mind, Instead, that night, as they lay in their marriage bed, he worshiped her again and again with his body, revealing with his hungry kisses and urgent possession all the love and tenderness that was within him.
Long after Morgana had fallen asleep in exhausted slumber, Royce lay awake, watching her as she slept in the golden flicker of the one remaining candle that was still lit, still not quite able to believe that he had been so fortunate, so very blessed, to have found her. It didn't matter who she wasâthere was a part of him who savagely wanted her to be just “Pip,” with no ties to anyone, nothing to bind her to anyone but
him!
But as his loving gaze moved over those sweet features of hers, features that were stamped clearly with the look of the Devlin family, he knew with a hollow feeling in his chest that it would be impossible for her relationship to the Devlins to remain hidden forever.
him!
But as his loving gaze moved over those sweet features of hers, features that were stamped clearly with the look of the Devlin family, he knew with a hollow feeling in his chest that it would be impossible for her relationship to the Devlins to remain hidden forever.
Unwilling to speculate further about that particular problem, he lowered his eyes and appreciatively his glance strayed down the slender length of her body. The night was warm, and in her sleep, she had tossed the sheet aside, the rumpled white folds of linen ending bunched near her knees. She was lying on her side, facing him, and he frowned as his wandering gaze encountered the scar on her right buttock.
Reaching for the candle, he leaned forward, examining the sharp outlines of the scar against her pale skin. It was not, as he had noticed before, just an aimless network of scarring from an old burn; it had a definite design within its round shape. It was actually quite a large scar, about the size of an English penny, and his frown growing, Royce stared at the mark, his troubled gaze following the entwined initials HD, a rose above the letters, a pair of crossed sabers below. It looked, he thought with a curious feeling of disbelief, uncommonly like the crest of a coat of arms.
He studied the design for a long, long time, the certainty growing within him that it was indeed a crest that he was staring at, that someone, at some time in her young life, had, with calculated cruelty, branded Morgana. It was obviously an old scar, but why, he wondered, would someone go to such lengths? Mere viciousness? Or had someone wanted Morgana to be clearly identified by the crest? Again, why?
He had no trouble believing Stephen Devlin capable of such a cold-bloodedly barbaric act, but since the Earl had plainly abandoned Morgana at birth, why would he want to have her marked as his child? Her startling resemblance to the Devlin family should be proof enough! Royce grimaced. He didn't recognize the crest, although he was positive, now that he considered it, that he
had
seen it beforeâeven so, he wasn't sure that it belonged to the Earl of St. Audries! But if it did, and Royce had a strong feeling that it did, then whose initials were inscribed within it? The D, he thought slowly, no doubt stood for Devlin, but the H? Certainly no one whom he had ever heard of within the immediate family had the initial H. Perhaps a distant relative? Was it possible that Morgana was
not
Stephen's daughter, but the offspring of some minor member of the family? But then, why the brand of the crest? Not just
any
member of the family was allowed to use it.
had
seen it beforeâeven so, he wasn't sure that it belonged to the Earl of St. Audries! But if it did, and Royce had a strong feeling that it did, then whose initials were inscribed within it? The D, he thought slowly, no doubt stood for Devlin, but the H? Certainly no one whom he had ever heard of within the immediate family had the initial H. Perhaps a distant relative? Was it possible that Morgana was
not
Stephen's daughter, but the offspring of some minor member of the family? But then, why the brand of the crest? Not just
any
member of the family was allowed to use it.
Morgana moved in her sleep, and half-waking, she smiled drowsily at him. Becoming aware of the candle in his hand and the fact that he was sitting upright in the bed, she murmured, “What are you doing? Is something wrong?”
Royce shook his head, and quick to reassure her, he said lightly, “Everything is fine; don't worry.”
Becoming fully awake and puzzled by the candle, she frowned slightly and asked, “Are you looking for something?”
“
At
something might be more appropriate,” he replied, smiling faintly. She smiled back at him, and realizing that now was as good a time as any to satisfy himself about the scar, he asked carefully, “I was examining that scar on your right hip... . When did you get it?”
At
something might be more appropriate,” he replied, smiling faintly. She smiled back at him, and realizing that now was as good a time as any to satisfy himself about the scar, he asked carefully, “I was examining that scar on your right hip... . When did you get it?”
Leaning up on her elbow, she squinted at the scar. “I don't know,” she answered, mystified. “I've always had itâit's been there ever since I can remember.” A small smile curved her mouth. “Mum said I came with it!”
Royce took a deep breath, not quite certain what to make of her words. “Came with it?” he repeated casually.
“I mean born with it, or whatever,” she replied with a shrug.
Picking his way with caution, Royce put the candle down and asked seriously, “Didn't you ever look at it closely? It's not a birthmark.”
Thoroughly confused, Morgana stared at him and then looked at the scar. “Royce,” she explained patiently, “it's only a scar, and no, I haven't examined it. You forget that I haven't always had the luxury of a change of clothes, nor a bathâI slept in my clothes and wore the same garments for months on end.” She flushed and muttered, “I've been naked more since I first met you than all the previous times of my life put together!”
A sensual smile suddenly appeared on his chiseled mouth. “And for
that
I am devotedly thankful!” But his light mood vanished almost immediately, and a frown between his eyebrows, he said, “Morgana, it isn't just a scarâI'm almost positive that it is a crest from a coat of arms. Are you sure that you don't remember anything about it? When you received it? Anything?”
that
I am devotedly thankful!” But his light mood vanished almost immediately, and a frown between his eyebrows, he said, “Morgana, it isn't just a scarâI'm almost positive that it is a crest from a coat of arms. Are you sure that you don't remember anything about it? When you received it? Anything?”
Astonished, she glanced at the scar and then at his sober features. “A crest?” she asked doubtfully. “Why would I have a crest on my hip?” Her eyes widened and she swallowed painfully. “My father?” Her eyes widened even further as something else occurred to her. Her voice very low, she asked, “Do you think that it has anything to do with what happened last night?”
“I don't know,” Royce answered levelly, “but I wouldn't be at all surprised. It identifies you without question.” Honesty compelled him to add, “And it
could
be your father's crest. I don't recognize it, but I'm almost positive that I have seen it before.”
could
be your father's crest. I don't recognize it, but I'm almost positive that I have seen it before.”
Morgana sat up in bed, the linen sheet modestly covering her body. She had skirted around the issue of her father for weeks now, and it suddenly seemed the most important thing in the world to her to find out the truthâshe had procrastinated long enough. Besides, what was there to fear?
He
couldn't hurt her! And pushing aside a cowardly desire to remain happily ignorant about the disdainful stranger who had fathered her, she demanded quickly before she could change her mind, “Tell me about him! Jane always claimed that my blood was blue. If, as you seem to believe, the scar is a crest, then that scar would seem to give credence to her statement.” Her eyes locked on his, she questioned urgently, “Who is he? I want to know.”
He
couldn't hurt her! And pushing aside a cowardly desire to remain happily ignorant about the disdainful stranger who had fathered her, she demanded quickly before she could change her mind, “Tell me about him! Jane always claimed that my blood was blue. If, as you seem to believe, the scar is a crest, then that scar would seem to give credence to her statement.” Her eyes locked on his, she questioned urgently, “Who is he? I want to know.”
Reluctantly, and not even sure why he was so reluctant, Royce said baldly, “The Earl of St. Audries, Stephen Devlin.”
If it was possible, her eyes grew even bigger, becoming almost round. “An Earl?” she repeated in a voice of disbelief. “Mother didn't make any bones about being a âhigh-flyer'; I just never realized that she had flown quite that high!”
He could see little reason to keep the entire truth from her now that she had asked about her father, and taking a deep breath, he said, “It seems very likelyâyou bear an uncommon likeness to other members of the family; I noticed it immediately. The fact that you are a St. Audries cannot be denied.” He frowned. “But the brand on your hip ... Ever since I saw it the other night, I have been troubled by itâI just can't fathom a reason for it ... especially if it does prove to be the St. Audries crest. Stephen made absolutely no provisions for you, and from your mother's unwillingness to tell you about him, it would appear that he didn't want to claim you, or she was so frightened of him that she
dare
not tell you, so what possible reason could there be for you to be branded in such a way? And if he was behind last night's attack on you, why? He's never intruded into your life before, so why would he want to kill you now?”
dare
not tell you, so what possible reason could there be for you to be branded in such a way? And if he was behind last night's attack on you, why? He's never intruded into your life before, so why would he want to kill you now?”
Morgana had no answers for him; in fact, it was as if a floodgate had burst open and she had dozens of questions about her father. Royce answered as many as he could, but since his interest in the St. Audries family had been minimal until very recently and his exchanges with the Earl had been hostile rather than friendly, beyond some very basic information, there was little he could tell her. He tried very hard not to let his personal dislike of the Earl creep into his voice, but the very neutrality of his tone gave him away. “You don't like him very much, do you?” she asked when he finished speaking.
Royce grimaced. “Let's just say that the Earl does not like Americans, and I, unfortunately, am not particularly impressed by either his wealth or his title ... and I let him know it.” She stared at him for a long time, and Royce wished fervently that he knew what was going on inside her head.
Morgana couldn't explain very well precisely what it was that she felt. A chaotic multitude of emotions was swirling wildly around in her brain as she sat there, the linen sheet clutched to her breast, her gaze seeing Royce, yet not seeing him. Certainly it was gratifying to find that one's father was a titled member of the aristocracy, a man of wealth and a member of a family whose name commanded respect ... except Morgana had the distinct and unsettling conviction that while the
name
commanded respect, her father did not! It wasn't anything that Royce had said, it was more what he didn't say! Even taking into account the acknowledged animosity between them, there was a decided air of constraint about her husband when he spoke of her father, almost as if there were unpleasant things he didn't want her to learn about the Earl of St. Audries... .
name
commanded respect, her father did not! It wasn't anything that Royce had said, it was more what he didn't say! Even taking into account the acknowledged animosity between them, there was a decided air of constraint about her husband when he spoke of her father, almost as if there were unpleasant things he didn't want her to learn about the Earl of St. Audries... .
She sighed. It didn't really matter to herâStephen Devlin's entire contribution to her life had been merely the fact that Jane had once been his mistress, and Morgana couldn't say that she had any deep feeling about the man. She had been curious, it was trueâwho wouldn't be? But it wasn't as if she had cherished any
real
dreams of ever making his acquaintance or of insinuating herself into his life. That one glimpse she'd had of him the day she had picked Royce's pocket had definitely
not
encouraged her to seek him outâquite the reverse, she thought with a shudder, remembering the selfish arrogance of his chiseled features. How could a man like
that
be her father? And whether it was further curiosity, or just a reluctance to accept that supercilious, cold-eyed man as her father, or something else that prompted her next question, she didn't know. Her dark, curly head cocked to one side, she inquired softly, “You're positive that Stephen Devlin is my father? He doesn't have any other relatives who could have been Jane's protector instead?”
real
dreams of ever making his acquaintance or of insinuating herself into his life. That one glimpse she'd had of him the day she had picked Royce's pocket had definitely
not
encouraged her to seek him outâquite the reverse, she thought with a shudder, remembering the selfish arrogance of his chiseled features. How could a man like
that
be her father? And whether it was further curiosity, or just a reluctance to accept that supercilious, cold-eyed man as her father, or something else that prompted her next question, she didn't know. Her dark, curly head cocked to one side, she inquired softly, “You're positive that Stephen Devlin is my father? He doesn't have any other relatives who could have been Jane's protector instead?”
Royce slowly shook his tawny head. “Except for Stephen and Julian, there are no other Devlin men, and Stephen is the right age to have fathered you. Your half-brother, Julian, is only a few years older than you are, and there is no one else in the family that I know of.” A queer expression suddenly crossed his face as he vaguely remembered a snatch of conversation with Zachary. “Wait! There was an older brother... . He held the title before Stephen. If I recall correctly, however, he died years agoâbefore you were even bornâso I'm afraid that eliminates him.”
Deciding that she was really being rather greedy not to be satisfied with a “bleeding lord” for a father, when poor Ben hadn't even a clue as to who his father was, she smiled and murmured, “It's not importantâknowing Jane, he could have turned out to be a highwayman with a pocket full of blunt just as easily, and so I shall be content to claim an Earl for my father.” She grinned at him. “Just think, I am not quite the little nobody you thought I wasâexcept for the fact that I was born on the wrong side of the blanket, I'm damn near a bloody
lady!”
lady!”
Royce smiled back at her, but his thoughts were not wholly on her words. There was an uncomfortable niggle in the back of his brain that talking about the Earl's dead brother had roused into being. Hadn't Zachary mentioned something about the previous Earl's wife and infant daughter dying? Wasn't that how Stephen Devlin had come to inherit the fortune he was so quick to brag about? The infant who died would have inherited everything, except, of course, the title ... but incredibly,
if
she had lived, it occurred to him, she would have looked very much like Morgana and have been about Morgana's age.... The most extraordinary suspicion suddenly sprang into full being within his brain. No! he told himself firmly. It couldn't be! Morgana was Stephen's illegitimate daughter! There was no other explanation. He was just letting his imagination run wild with him to think otherwise!
if
she had lived, it occurred to him, she would have looked very much like Morgana and have been about Morgana's age.... The most extraordinary suspicion suddenly sprang into full being within his brain. No! he told himself firmly. It couldn't be! Morgana was Stephen's illegitimate daughter! There was no other explanation. He was just letting his imagination run wild with him to think otherwise!
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