Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2

by Barbara Devlin

  “What is your hurry? We will make it in time for supper, I think.” Not for a minute would Cara surrender what she deemed a golden opportunity, as she anticipated a post-coital proposal, which she intended to accept.

  #

  “What do you mean he did not propose?” Sabrina reclined amid the pillows on the chaise in her morning room, dubbed the war room because it served as the primary locale for the Brethren women to gather, strategize, and debrief developments in Cara’s quest to claim her errant knight. “Could you not get him alone?”

  “More or less.” Cara twiddled her thumbs and then shrugged, as her calm façade fractured. “But Lance did not offer for my hand. What more can I say?”

  Given that she had spent the better part of the night, tossing and turning in bed, pondering the answer to the same question, and still could discern no solution to her predicament, Cara remained befuddled.

  “So what did you two do after Everett dragged me home? And what do you imagine set him off? Never have I seen the man so discomposed.” Sabrina cast her a narrow stare. “Alex said you disappeared for quite some time while she endured the unwanted attentions of Sir Archibald Kleinfeld.”

  “Oh, Cara.” Alex rolled her eyes. “It was dreadful.”

  Should Cara divulge the truth? Of course not. After a rigorous round of lovemaking, she had prepared to entertain and accept a proposal of marriage, for which she had composed a gracious speech in honor of the momentous occasion. As it turned out, she need not have concerned herself with such niceties.

  Once their clothes had been righted, Lance had escorted her to the dining room, whereupon they assumed an air of unreserved equanimity designed to thwart any suspicion of inappropriate activity, which they portrayed to perfection for the benefit of the raucous but importuning crowd. To compound her disappointment, if it were possible, he had remained a consummate gentleman for the rest of the evening, which she considered an insult of the cruelest sort.

  How dare her hero make passionate love to her and then behave himself? It was if they had done nothing more than engage in a polite game of whist in Lord Chomley’s study.

  “You think you had it bad?” Elaine snorted. “I danced with the Younger. Daresay I have at least one broken toe to show for it.”

  The world tilted as Cara reflected on Lance’s machinations, which had landed two of her dearest friends in the clumsy clutches of the brothers Kleinfeld, which some might describe as a fate worse than death.

  “What rotten luck for you both,” Caroline chimed with a mighty frown.

  “I find it rather suspicious that the Kleinfelds sought your estimable company.” Rebecca gazed at the floor. “And Sabrina was conveniently removed from the premises by an uncharacteristically distraught husband.”

  Cara feared she might swoon, because her hero’s stratagem had piqued Rebecca’s spy instincts.

  “That is the understatement of the year.” Brie shook her head and grimaced. “Poor Everett was on the verge of hysteria. It took almost the entire night to calm him, as he thought me in a delicate state, and I expended considerable energy to prove otherwise, hence I’ve had little sleep and am now exhausted, in truth.”

  Thank heavens for her wayward younger sister, who always spoke with unvarnished honesty, as her bold statement redirected their focus.

  “Oh, do tell.” Alex bounced on the edge of her seat. “Just how does a wife please a husband? Mind you, spare no detail.”

  “Alex, you must not ask such things.” In that instant, vivid images flashed through Cara’s mind. Lance tugging her gown from her shoulders, kissing her bare breasts, and then guiding his most protuberant part to her secret entrance. “It is not proper.”

  And then Cara bit her tongue against further admonition, because the point of convergence had just shifted in her favor.

  “Stuff and nonsense.” The younger Seymour huffed a breath. “What good is a marriage license if it does not grant a lady permission to be improper with her spouse?”

  “Well, there you have me, but I am unsure just how much to share.” Sabrina glanced at Rebecca and then Caroline. “Do either of you have anything to contribute to this discussion?”

  “I never kiss and tell,” Becca replied.

  “You are no fun,” Elaine whispered, with a look of awe. “As Alex and I are alone but for you, how else shall we learn what is expected of us on our wedding night?”

  “She has a point.” Caroline fidgeted and then peered at Brie. “And although my mother explained the physical act when my courses first flowed, nothing she imparted could have prepared me for Trevor. From what I gather, he is an altogether different animal from my father.”

  “I know just what you mean.” Sabrina refilled her cup. “Mama was very forthcoming on the eve of my marriage ceremony, yet I considered myself ignorant in the midst of the actual deflowering. It was a vast deal more personal than I had imagined, and my shameless lord’s behavior extended beyond the pale. The man howls, mid-coitus, as a wolf bays at the moon.”

  “How frightening.” Elaine gulped and hugged a pillow.

  “Is that normal?” Alex asked with unmasked fascination.

  “Who knows, but I do not care, as I rather fancy it. In fact, I almost expect his lascivious exultations now.” With a naughty grin, Sabrina giggled. “You see I view his unconventional enthusiasm as a reflection of my skills in the bedchamber.”

  “Very good assumption, Brie. And I concur with your logic.” Caroline nodded once. “Trevor calls to his maker, again and again, with unrestrained fervor. He makes me feel so invincible and a regular seductress.”

  All eyes centered on Rebecca, who shifted and then said, “Dirk roars like a lion.”

  Caroline gasped. “He doesn’t.”

  “Our stodgy Dirk?” Sabrina pressed a hand to her throat.

  “Indeed, he does. Must confess I found the initial instance very startling, until I realized his effusive bellow served to indicate he had reached a particular pinnacle of our joining. And on occasion, he has bitten my shoulder, though I would deem it more a love nip, but what it does to me—I can’t describe, as there are no adequate words.” Becca assessed her fingernails and then lowered her chin. “Sisters, you are sworn to secrecy, as my man would neither understand nor forgive my candor, regardless of our familial affiliations.”

  “Of course.” Sabrina passed a plate filled with shortbread to Caroline. “I am no traitor, Becca.”

  “We vow on the Brethren oath never to betray your confidence.” Caroline dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “As it stands, polite society would disapprove of our topic of conversation, as gently bred ladies are not supposed to discuss physical relations between the sexes. It simply is not done.”

  “Well, what the ton does not know will not hurt it.” Alex gazed at the ceiling and sighed. “And we can’t possibly learn all that is required of us from our brother’s collection of Rowlandson’s etchings.”

  A choral tapestry of gasps filled the air, but just as fast a knock at the door silenced the female faction.

  Carrying a silver tray, the butler entered the room. “I beg your pardon, your ladyship, but a missive has just arrived for you.”

  “Thank you, Ware.” Sabrina swiped a folded note from the salver. “That will be all.” In mere seconds, she scanned the correspondence. “It is from Damian. Our brothers have docked.”

  “Jason’s home.” Alex leapt from her chair, assessed her attire, and frowned. “I must change into something more presentable for my knight. Elaine, will you come with me? I need your opinion.”

  “I should be delighted.” Elaine stood at attention. “Cara, will you join us?”

  “Of course. I shall give you a half hour and follow in my carriage.” Cara smiled and shook her head, knowing her friend intended to don something more provocative than the simple yellow day dress she currently sported. “We can travel to Deptford together.”

  “Wonderful.” Alex, with Elaine in tow, rushed to bestow on each
lady a quick peck on the cheek, before she all but ran to the door, reached for the knob, and then glanced over her shoulder. “I want Jason to fall to his knees when he sees me.”

  Cara couldn’t help but laugh at the younger Seymour’s bawdy statement, but she sobered when she met Brie’s stern gaze, after Alex and Elaine departed.

  “That one is in for trouble if we do not check her behavior.” Sabrina wrinkled her nose. “And she sets a poor example for Elaine.”

  “I could not agree more.” Rebecca inclined her head and frowned. “Where Collingwood is concerned, Alex has already stretched the limits of propriety to dangerous lengths.”

  “She only wants to look pretty for her beau.” Cara neglected to mention she had thought of doing the same thing, because Lance would have received a similar summons to the docks. “Where is the harm?”

  “As long as that is all she does.” Caroline folded her arms. “But you should watch her, as she is far too caught up in the romance of your situation. Damian will kill her and Collingwood if they do something stupid.”

  “Sisters, you make too much of nothing. To borrow Alex’s favorite phrase, stuff and nonsense.” Cara studied the lace trim of her sleeve and sought a change of subject. “By the by, never have I seen Elaine so curious. Her queries evidence newfound confidence even I could not have predicted.”

  “That reminds me, we shared our deepest secrets with you.” Caroline pointed for emphasis. “Now you must share yours.”

  “Ah, yes.” Rebecca arched a brow. “It is your turn, dear sister.”

  “My turn for—what?” Cara swallowed hard and feigned ignorance, but she understood their demands.

  “Do not play the fool.” Sabrina snuffled. “Tell us of Lance and his naughty habits.”

  “Sabrina.” Cara shifted and smoothed her skirts. “As I am not married, I have not your extensive experience—”

  “Now.” Brie shuffled the pillows and resituated herself.

  “Oh, all right.” Cara bit her lip and revisited her most intense moments with Lance. And on second thought, she realized the Brethren wives offered her a golden opportunity to examine and, perhaps, interpret her future husband’s salacious tendencies. “Lance is not as vocal as are your spouses.”

  “How dreadful.” Caroline cast a sympathetic smile. “But it is early in your relationship. Give him time. He may yet be a screamer.”

  In unison, the wives burst into laughter.

  “I am so happy to provide you with afternoon entertainment.” Cara sniffed.

  “Sorry, my dear friend.” Rebecca dabbed a stray tear. “Perhaps your intended’s quiescent response is related to his injury.”

  “Actually, I believe it may be due to the fact that we have had to temper our couplings for fear of discovery.” Cara recalled the instance when Lance covered her mouth with his hand. “There is something, however, but I am unsure how to describe it.”

  “Try making a comparison,” Becca suggested.

  “Well, it really is difficult to convey.” Cara envisioned the somewhat frightening habit. “As Lance nears—you know, he makes the oddest expressions. When first it happened, I thought he had suffered a violent paroxysm, and it bloody well scared me to death.”

  “Like this?” Just then, Sabrina scooted to the edge of her seat and contorted her face.

  “Oh, I have one.” Caroline mimicked a tortured visage.

  “That is nothing. What about mine?” Rebecca scrunched her cheeks and twisted her lips.

  “Well this is what I confronted.” Cara did her best to mock Lance’s convoluted countenance.

  Once again, silence fell over the room. And then a peal of laughter exploded into gales of unrestrained mirth, shattering the peaceful solitude.

  “And they call us dramatic.” Rebecca giggled and hugged her belly. “Worry not, Cara. For that is an excellent sign.”

  “So it seems, but it is altogether terrifying when you have no warning,” Cara explained. “I thought I had harmed his leg.”

  “It is a pain of a different sort.” Caroline elbowed Rebecca. “And it hurts so good.”

  “Oh, I like that,” Becca responded with zeal.

  “Is that what happened last night?” Brie inquired.

  “In a manner of speaking—” Cara clamped her mouth shut, because she had not planned to confess her transgression from the previous evening.

  “Just as I suspected.” In a flash, the mood changed from one of lighthearted banter to somber intensity, as Rebecca pinned Cara with a lethal stare. “You are courting disaster, sister. Have we taught you nothing? Do you wish to become pregnant?”

  “And if that occurs, you leave yourself no retreat.” Caroline stretched her feet. “Then you must wed amid indecision and self-doubt, beneath the unforgiving scrutiny of so-called polite society, which is anything but, and I would not wish that on my worst enemy.”

  “You speak as though you—”

  “—Comprehend the reason for your vacillation?” Caroline sniffed. “Only too well, I am afraid. Given the circumstances surrounding my own wedding, at the pointed end of Blake’s best sword, I apprehend the various difficulties of a forced union, and I would spare you such torment. You second-guess every move and word, wondering if you will ever enjoy a love match, if you are worthy of such a prize, and if it would not have been better to die an old maid.”

  “You pray that your husband will express his devotion but grow weary with each successive day that the much anticipated declaration eludes you.” Sabrina gazed at Cara with tear-filled eyes. “You recount the events compelling you to marry and grasp at the minutest glimmer of hope, analyzing his most trivial actions for some sign of affection that extends beyond the physical, seizing upon anything, however insignificant, to deflect the ton’s harsh criticism and protect yourself.”

  “But every time he takes you in his arms, whispering praise and encouragement, you tell yourself it is enough to know that he desires you, above all else, even though you believe otherwise. Yet at night, when no one watches, you study your reflection in a mirror and judge each imagined flaw as the cause of his indifference, as if his rationale were so pedestrian.” Rebecca inhaled a shaky breath. “And just as you prepare to surrender the fight, accepting what is instead of longing for what might have been, he utters that simple phrase, sets the world at your feet, and your heart soars to new heights.”

  “Indeed, it is a priceless treasure unlike any other, a shield of impenetrable strength, and an alliance of formidable power.” Caroline wiped her damp cheeks and hiccuped. “And then you truly learn what it means to exist as something more than yourself, as the love you had thought reached the limits of capacity grows by heretofore immeasurable, inconceivable amounts, filling your life with inexpressible joy.”

  “And if I have learned anything from my experience, it is that our men endure their own special brand of hell, albeit mostly of their making, on the road to self-discovery and a declaration.” Becca fumbled for a handkerchief. “It is a small consolation, yet important to note, because it belies the fact that they, too, must bleed with despair to know the value and pleasure of true love. So you should know you are not alone in your misery.”

  “And in the end, the goal, once attained, will be all the more sweet because of the preceding bitterness.” Caroline reached for Cara and Rebecca. “In short, the gift is worth the price you pay.”

  “She is right.” Brie clutched Cara’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “And I want that for you and Lance.”

  “We would have you join our most happy trio.” Rebecca glanced at Caroline and then Sabrina. “And we would toast your felicitous future and a rounding belly with a cup of chamomile tea.”

  “I will drink to that.” Cara laughed, as she formed a circle of support with the Brethren wives. And in that moment of clarity, she knew what she had to do to win her hero. “Ladies, I am certain I can make Lance see me as something more than a friend once we wed, as never have I wavered in my conviction that he is desti
ned to be mine. In time, he will grow to love me as his wife, and I will secure his declaration.”

  “So you are determined to change your tack?” Sabrina inquired. “Knowing the battle that awaits, and everything it entails, you are willing to settle for less than his most ardent devotion when you speak the vows?”

  “Yes.” Cara nodded with renewed confidence. “With your invaluable tutelage, I will survive, come what may.”

  “Then you must stand firm, dearest, for both your sakes.” Sabrina bowed her head and peered at the floor. “And as much as it distresses me to admit it, I will no longer be around to assist you.”

  “What do you mean?” Cara flinched in shock. “You cannot abandon me now, when I need you most.”

  “But it is not my choice, as Everett has forbidden me to attend further events of the Little Season for the duration of my pregnancy, with the exception of your birthday celebration and the family holiday gathering. For whatever reason, something inside him snapped, and my husband watches over me like a hawk.” Adopting a shy smile, Sabrina glanced at Cara. “If I so much as sneeze, he sends for Dr. Handley. Yet I can’t be angry, as my shameless lord dotes on me to excess, and I am quite enamored of him, anew.”

  “And on that note, I should excuse myself.” Rebecca scooted to the edge of her seat. “To borrow a page from Alex’s book, I should change into something more appealing to welcome my gallant knight.”

  “Given that we share your carriage, I must away for the same purpose.” Caroline stood and smirked. “Something about a mission stimulates my husband’s appetites to unrivaled heights, upon his return, and I am loathe to disappoint him.”

  “Did you not remark that he admires your navy blue traveling coat?” Becca asked with a conspiratorial giggle.

  “Perhaps I shall wear that with nothing beneath it.” Caroline tapped a finger to her chin. “What say you, sister? Will he be shocked?”

  “Yes.” Rebecca waved a farewell. “But in a good way, I think. And you must help me select something equally appealing to rouse Dirk.”

  “Did he not declare your burgundy coat his favorite?” Caroline winked and blew a kiss to Cara. “What about that and a smile? After all, there is nothing like a quick and easy strip to inspire our men.”