Adena could not help but smile now. They were going to be so happy. “Yes, my answer. To your question.”
“Question?” Luke did not appear to have any comprehension of what she was saying, but he stood still staring at her, eager for her words. “What question? Ah, whether you can forgive me or not? I hope you can, for if you cannot I will – ”
Taking a step forward so that she was but inches from him, Adena whispered. “Hush your nonsense, Luke, Marquis of Dewsbury. For all your fancy title, you are sometimes very stupid.”
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, and it was so tempting that she did not even bother to try and fight it. Leaning forward, she kissed him full on the mouth.
She thought at first that Luke had frozen, but then large and warm hands were clinging to her waist, and she was almost lifted upwards in the power of his embrace as he returned her kiss devotedly.
How long they stood there, she could not tell. All Adena knew was that when they broke apart, she had just enough breath to say, “This time, I know my own way back to shore. Luke, I love you.”
He did not need to reply in words: his actions were enough. Stepping forward with such passion that Adena was forced to step backwards, Luke pinned her against the door and took full possession of her mouth as his hands returned to her hips, that favourite place.
They could have spent all night there, murmuring love and affection betwixt the sweetest of kisses, but as Luke clutched at her even more tightly, Adena felt a familiar hardness between his legs.
Luke dropped his face down with an almost embarrassed smile. “Look at what you do to me, you brazen woman.”
“I would say you are the one who is brazen,” Adena corrected him, returning his smile. “This time, it is I who will lead you. Come, follow me.”
She forced him to take a step backwards so she could open the door, and they stepped into the empty hallway.
“Where are we going?” Luke asked, with a hint of confusion and nervousness in his voice
Adena smiled. “Why, to my bedchamber of course. Have you not been longing to make love to me on an actual bed?”
It was fortunate that there was no painting hanging on the wall just outside the drawing room door, for they would surely have knocked it from the wall as Luke thrust her against the wall and kissed her neck with such fervour that Adena gasped aloud.
“Adena, you temptress, we cannot,” Luke groaned heavily against her neck as she entwined her hands around his neck.
“Why not?” She returned in a whisper, allowing a mischievous smile to dance across her face. “Rowena and her parents are away this evening, at a ball a few miles away. All but one maid and a footman are gone, and they are surely busy. We are completely alone.”
Luke hesitated for a moment and stared into her eyes, as though attempting to read her thoughts. Finally he said, “You truly want this?”
Adena smiled. “Am I to be your wife?”
“How can you ask that?”
“And I would ask the same question,” she returned swiftly, and taking one of his hands in hers, brought it to her breast.
Luke groaned once more, and muttered, “Lead the way then, Adena, or I shall take you right here on this floor, and then God help us!”
Laughing, Adena ran up the stairs with her love in hot pursuit. They almost made it to her bedroom without succumbing to their desire to taste each other once again, and Luke almost had his shirt removed by the time that they finally shut the door behind them and enclosed themselves in a true sanctuary.
It did not stay on for long. Adena ran her fingers over his collarbone, down the wiry hair across his chest, and moaned quietly.
“I did not have the chance to take a proper look at you before,” she whispered. “My, but I had missed out!”
“And so have I,” said Luke in a growl. “I want to spend our entire honeymoon completely naked, just enjoying the sight of you.”
Adena laughed. “Enough talk, we have the rest of our lives to talk.”
She pulled him towards the bed and fell on top of him, her hair falling over him like a fire.
“We have the rest of our lives to do this, too,” he pointed out, but she claimed his mouth with her own.
“Perhaps,” she said eventually. “But right now, I want you more than I want your conversation.”
She could feel the damp heat between her legs again, and this time, she knew what delights were in store for her. Arching her back upwards, she gave a little moan as Luke nuzzled his way down her neck and towards those tempting breasts, barely hidden now as they hung heavy towards him.
“I love you,” he murmured as he rolled her onto her back. “I love you so much.”
Adena took in his swollen lips, swollen from the fierceness of his passion, the darkness of the stubble on his cheeks, thicker now since when she had first beheld it, and felt the hardness of his desire pushing up through his britches, through her gown.
“I have to – I have to have you now!” She gasped.
Luke smiled, and gently pulled at the ribbon to allow her gown to fall open, revealing her heaving breasts. “There is plenty of time for that – I want to make this last for you.”
But Adena was having none of that. Rolling over once more, she straddled him and stared at him fiercely, fiery red hair flowing down her neck and grazing her nipples as her gown fell open.
“No,” she said firmly, panting slightly. “I want you now. Right now, Luke!”
Who was he to say no? He could have taken her up against the wall downstairs in that drawing room if he had allowed himself to be overcome by his desire for her, and he was in no position to protest.
“Sit up on your knees,” Luke instructed her, and moaned aloud as the movement made her breasts jiggle up and down. He tugged at his britches and pulled them off, lying beneath her completely naked. “Now come here.”
Adena lowered herself down, slowly at first as though frightened of hurting him, but she soon settled happily on him as she glorified in the feeling of his hardness against her softness.
“I do not know – I do not know what to do,” she mumbled, eyes wide with confusion but completely trusting.
Luke grinned. “Instinct will take over, after a point. Here.”
He sat up and brought one of those stunning nipples into his mouth, and she cried out with the sensation of it, causing him to jerk and stiffen even more. She was kissing his head and clutching at his back, almost scratching him with the uncontrolled pleasure that she was experiencing, and Luke grasped at the other breast to intensify it for her.
She was growing wetter, wetter than before – the anticipation was growing in her, now that Adena knew what delights he had in store for her. He was almost slick with it, and in a swift movement his hands grasped at her bottom under the billowing skirts, and raised her onto him.
“Oh!” Adena’s eyes widened as she felt him enter her, but there was no pain there; he had made sure of that with the near climax he had given her through her breasts. “Oh, Luke!”
Tilting his face up, she leaned down and kissed him passionately, and for a moment he allowed her to stay there, straddling him and encompassing him in her tightness. But eventually he could not stop himself, and he allowed his hands to move to her waist underneath her gown, groaning into her mouth at the feeling of her sweet flesh.
Now that his hands were not restraining her, Adena’s hips naturally began to move, the kiss working up in her the instincts that Luke knew would take over.
It was impossible to remain upright, he simply couldn’t do it. Luke fell backwards on the bed but Adena was now in her stride, rising and falling, rising and falling and he could not take his eyes off her beautiful face and bouncing breasts.
“God, Adena, I love you!” Luke groaned. “Yes, faster, faster!”
She did not seem able to hear him, her eyes were closed with the ecstasy of the feeling of him, but this time she was in complete control, and she slowed down slightly with a growing s
mile.
“No, Adena – oh God, you wanted it now, take me!”
Luke had never considered himself as someone to beg. He never had before – and he never would with anyone else. But this was Adena, sweetest gift of his life, and ardently possessive woman.
She was the one in control now.
“I can feel it building,” Adena cried, and her eyes snapped open. “Oh, Luke, I can feel it!”
“Let it happen,” he shouted, “Adena, yes, yes!”
They came together, and it was almost like a cascade of climax that swept them both aside, leaving them nothing but pure and delightful sensations that overwhelmed them both.
After a period of time that Luke could not even have guessed at, Adena collapsed onto his chest, her breasts heavy and her breath short.
“That,” she whimpered, “was incredible.”
Luke tried to catch his breath, and laughed. “And it will not be our last.”
There had been little conversation after that. Neither of them had the brainpower for it, but at mutual agreement, they both stripped off what little clothes they still had on, and nestled under the blankets, completely naked, as happily as if the vicar had already declared them man and wife.
For, as Luke said, could they be more to each other than husband and wife?
Luke fell asleep quickly, but he was in for a rude awakening. Not five hours after their eyes had succumbed to sleep, a raucous banging was heard from the hallway.
“Adena? Adena, wake up!”
Luke awoke with a jolt, and stared wide-eyed and panicked at Adena.
“The Kerrs!” She whispered horrified. “They are back – and they want me?”
“What should I do?” Luke whispered anxiously. “I am completely naked here, Adena, I have no time to dress and hide!”
“Then just hide,” said Adena firmly. “My dressing room, go!”
Grasping at his clothes and moving as quickly and quietly as he could through the door at which Adena pointed, Luke closed it with a snap, seconds before a loud bang declared that Adena’s bedroom door had been thrown open.
“Is she here?” Luke heard a woman’s voice cry out in panic, and then Adena’s reply.
“Who?”
“Rowena, of course!” The woman must be Mrs Kerr, Luke guessed. Why was she looking for her daughter in Adena’s bedchamber?
It appeared that Adena had a similar question. “Why would Rowena be here, I thought she was with you?”
There were more bangs in the house, and Luke tried desperately to dress himself without making a sound.
“She has gone!” The woman’s voice sounded hysterical. “She has gone, Adena, and look – she has left a note!”
Luke paused, half in, half out of his britches. Gone?
“My dearest parents, do not be alarmed,” he heard Adena’s voice as she read. “I am quite well and safe, and have gone…have gone to Gretna Green to be married – ”
The woman who must surely be Mrs Kerr cried out in a dry sob.
“ – married at once, so there is no hope in attempting to follow me,” Adena’s voice continued. “My God, Mrs Kerr, you must after her at once!”
“That is where her father has gone – he is to London in the carriage, but I thought she may be with you!”
Luke pulled his britches up and buttoned them. Well, well: an elopement in the house.
“Go and ride to the coach house,” he heard Adena say. “Or better yet, go there yourself! Find out which coach they got, whither it was bound!”
“Yes,” murmured the voice distracted for a moment. “That is a sound idea, Miss Garland – you do not mind if we take the servants with us? You will be quite alone for the rest of the night, but we could ask door to door, see if – ”
“That is an excellent idea,” came Adena’s firm tone, and Luke grinned. He did not need to see her to know that look. “I will stay here, in case she comes back.”
“Bless you child, bless you!”
There was another slam of a door, a moment of silence, and then: “Luke?”
Luke quietly opened the door back into the bedroom, and crept into bed with his fiancée. “An elopement and an engagement, all in the same night!”
Adena welcomed him with open arms, and snuggled into him. “Indeed. We shall have to be up at the crack of dawn to start looking for her.”
Luke sighed. “Life is never going to be dull with you, is it?”
He caught the answering smile on Adena’s lips, and it warmed his heart like nothing else.
“No,” she admitted, grinning. “But as long as we are never marooned again, I think we will do quite well.”
“And even then,” he murmured in her ear, drawing her close.
Adena sighed. “Even then.”
Worried about Rowena? Fear not – you can read her Ravishing Regencies story in Voyage with a Viscount – read on for the first chapter…
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To my readers. This series would be nothing without them.
Acknowledgments
This was the series that I never thought I could publish, so first thanks must go to my amazing Kickstarter supporters! Thank you for your faith in me, and I hope you love this book as much as I do!
Thank you to my wonderful editor, Julia Underwood, who has given me unparalleled advice – any mistakes left are completely my own!
Thank you to my glorious cover designer, Samantha Holt, a true artist whose patience with me is much appreciated.
Thank you to my ingenious formatter, Falcon Storm, whose willingness to format whenever I drop an unexpected email is fantastic!
And to my family. Thank you.
1
Rowena Kerr did not think anything could disgust her more than Oscar Bentley…then she saw the rain.
“Why in God’s name did you not mention this earlier?” She asked him quietly, barely audible over the din of the crashing rain that was splashing over their feet as they stood in the doorway of the inn.
Mr Bentley shrugged, a pink tinge of embarrassment covering his face, almost unable to meet her eye.
Rowena rolled her eyes. What a complete idiot – and they had come all this way for…well, there was nothing for it now.
Striding forwards without giving Mr Bentley another glance, Rowena stepped into the pouring rain.
Within seconds her hair was wet through, her clothes damp, but it was better than standing beside him any longer. She could not bear to look at him, to be near him, and she hated herself for believing – as she had mere hours before – that she could. Goodness, had she known…
“Miss Kerr!”
The idiot had followed her out into the thrashing rain, blinking away the drops that fell into his eyes.
“Miss Kerr, I – ” But he stopped short, likely horrified by the fierce glare that she bestowed upon him. Her father had always said that she could stare down a bull, and it looked like he was right. Mr Bentley at least was instantly cowed, and took a slippery step backwards in the mud.
Rowena looked around her. She had barely taken in their location when they had arrived, had just been glad to get out of that coach which had bounced and thrown them about for miles on end. So here they were, at the Wingston Inn. Miles from anywhere, with nothing but hills and a few trees in any direction. A grubby track went past it, but no coaches were visible.
“You…you cannot stand out here, Miss Kerr.”
She ignored him. Cold, she may be, anxious and upset, definitely, but this feeling of foolishness was nothing to do with the weather. How could she have done it? What had she been thinking?
“Pasty, dear?”
Rowena jumped at the close sound of another, and saw an elderly woman with a basket full of pasties on her arm half covered by a patchwork cl
oth, and shook her head hastily.
No, the last thing that she wants is a conversation. “Thank you, but I am just waiting for a coach. I have no need for sustenance.”
Without waiting for a reply, and in a manner that Rowena knew was rudeness itself but she simply could not help it, she had to move away.
Mr Bentley had not returned inside the Wingston Inn, though. He was still standing there, undoubtedly as wet through as she was, staring at her with a strange mixture of longing and confusion.
Rowena coloured slightly, and tried to ignore him, but his constant stare and cold, dejected manner was difficult not to see.
Just when her feet were starting to grow damp through her leather boots, Rowena’s heart leapt: a coach. Surely that was a coach that she could hear? Within minutes, her hopes were confirmed as a large stagecoach came rattling around a corner and pulled up outside the Wingston Inn.
Three people dismounted, stretching their arms, twisting their backs, obviously delighted to be free of the coach – but they were barely able to take two steps away from it before Rowena rushed forward.
“Good day – good day, where is this coach going to? Where is its next destination?”
Most of the previous occupants pushed past her, desperate to get out of the thrashing rain and into the dry, warm, and hopefully the smell of cooking good in the air of the Wingston Inn, but Rowena clutched at the driver’s arm.
“You must tell me. Where will this coach take me?”
She dropped the man’s arm quickly when he saw the leering smile that he gave her, his eyes moving up and down her body. Rowena smiled nervously, and wished that she had thought to put a coat on. Her gown, a deep rich purple in the dry, was now almost black, and clung to her body in a most disgraceful way.
“This coach, girlie?” The coachman sniggered. “Anywhere you want it to go, my sweet.”
Rowena coloured, and held herself a little more upright as she repeated, “Where will this coach take me?”
She did not attempt to use an aristocratic eye very often, but her striking features and undeniable beauty was not something to be ignored.
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