Ravishing Regencies- The Complete Series

by Emily Murdoch

  “There,” she said finally, glancing up at Luke with a nervous smile on her face. “Have I shocked you sufficiently yet?”

  Tempting as it was to give his real opinion of her, which was that he wanted to utterly possess her for a good few hours into the night, Luke nodded with a smile. “Now, will you let me cook them?”

  He had no idea what possessed him to offer; the last time he had cooked fish on a fire, he had been but thirteen and even then, he had done it badly. Perhaps it was seeing just how independent she was. Perhaps it was time for him to contribute something to their little wilderness.

  Within minutes, the regret was complete. He had no idea how it was possible that the outside of the fish were burned but the inside was still raw, but he persevered in silence, and tried not to notice those dark green eyes watching his every movement.

  She felt something. He knew that she did, no one could react like that to someone’s touch and not feel something. But what was it: intrigue, interest, lust?

  And dare he find out?

  “There, that should do it,” he said hopefully after what must have been another twenty minutes. “I am afraid that my dining service is a little lax this evening, but I hope you will not mind.”

  Adena smiled at him, and reached out her hands for the partly charred fish, flinching slight at its heat. Though he could not have said why, Luke was careful that he did not touch her skin again.

  Throwing himself down beside her, and perhaps a little closer than was necessary, Luke took his own fish and made an exploratory bite.

  There was no use beating about the bush: it was disgusting. Attempting not to gag, Luke forced half of it down, knowing that he would be glad to have something in his stomach when morning came, and hoped beyond hope that the other fish was somewhat better.

  By the look of Adena’s face, it was just as repulsive – but she caught his eye, and smiled. “Thank you for the fish, Luke, it really…it really is delicious.”

  Luke was not sure what made him happier: the fact that she was lying to him to prevent his feelings from being hurt, or the flirtatious way that she did it.

  “You are the worst liar I have ever met,” he said with a broad grin, and to his utter surprise, Adena burst into giggles.

  “And you are the worst cook I have ever met!”

  Luke stared at her, and then joined her laughter. “I am sure that there is someone out there worse than I!”

  “I cannot think how!” Adena’s laugh reached to her eyes, which were fixed on his own. “My goodness, Luke, how can you eat that?”

  Grinning broadly, Luke swept out the remainder of his fish, and threw it spectacularly into his mouth – or it would have been into his mouth, if it had not disintegrated into chunks of badly cooked or overly burnt fish which rained down on him.

  His look of surprise must have been hilarious, for Adena was clutching her sides with laughter.

  Thankfully, Luke was able to see the funny side. Joining with her laughter, he nudged slightly closer to her, and his arm brushed against her shoulder.

  Adena kept laughing, but she shifted herself slightly too – towards him. Luke tried to ignore the desperate instinct to lean over and kiss those laughing lips, knowing that if he was not careful, he would soon attempt it – and God only knew how Miss Adena Garland would react to her honour’s besmirching.

  5

  Though the sound of the wave had barely changed, the wind had. The slight breeze that had ruffled his hair when Luke had first encountered this strange and wonderful woman was now a tugging chill, and he could not help but shiver slightly in its wake.

  “You are cold,” came the gentle voice beside him.

  Luke did not think it was worth arguing with: his coat and waistcoat were currently their blankets on the sand and his linen shirt, though expensive, was not designed for outdoor living, and he nodded briefly. “It will pass.”

  He tried not to catch Adena’s eye, but it was just not possible – that smile was bewitching, and even if he had wanted to stay away from it, he could not.

  He tilted his head, and caught her knowing look, the twist of her lip as she smiled at him.

  “Why do you not say that you are cold because you have given your greatcoat to me?” Adena smiled, and Luke found that the chill of the air was nothing to the heat that she stirred within him.

  He shrugged. “You need it more than I, Adena, and I am…I am quite happy to give it to you.”

  And the words unsaid that soared from his heart whispered, “And I would give you the shirt off my back if you asked me for it.”

  Perhaps something of the intensity of his thoughts showed on his face, for she blushed, her cheeks mirroring the heat of her hair.

  “Maybe,” and her voice was even softer now, and her gaze had dropped as her cheeks continued to pink, “we should move a little closer.”

  Luke swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was cracked. “To… to the fire?”

  It was surely his own imagination. Adena could not be looking at him like that, like she wanted to move closer – as though she felt for him the same startling emotions that were gaining strength in his own chest.

  But it was not his imagination when she replied softly, “No, to each other. The fire will only burn us, whereas…well, our shared body heat will keep us warm.”

  No other woman on this earth had ever said such a thing to Luke, Marquis of Dewsbury, and he had to blink several times to ensure that he was still awake. Was this an invitation to more? He was no stranger to lovemaking – no titled gentleman usually was – but this situation was, of course, unique.

  “If you do not want to, I quite understand,” she said hurriedly, that flush that was becoming so familiar to him covering her cheeks.

  Luke swallowed. If he was not careful, he would regret this for the rest of his life.

  “I would be honoured,” he said in a low voice.

  And then a smile, dazzling in its brilliance as the light of the fire glinted on her lips. Luke tried to calm the natural stirring in his loins. If she wanted more, she would have to ask for it, he reminded himself. He was no seducer of virtue.

  Without saying another word, Adena moved closer to him, her arm touching his, her skirted legs sitting alongside his in britches.

  Luke felt his breath quickening, and tried to slow his own heartbeat. This was ridiculous. He had had more flirtatious experiences with young women before: gently leaning down to reveal a healthy view of their breasts, the accidental on purpose wetting of the skirts to cling to ankles, the almost casual brush of a hand against a bottom – but this?

  He could sense her own breathing as her arm moved closer and then slightly away from his own, but he could not tell whether she was making him warmer, or if his consciousness of her body was doing that for him.

  “Better?” Adena whispered, tilting her head slightly to gaze into his eyes.

  Luke almost choked down his words that it would be better if they were naked – his first instinct – and instead muttered, “Much better, thank you.”

  She smiled, and turned her head back to the fire, but he did not take his eyes from her. At first her face, beautiful as it was, but then the soft curves below it, and the gentle swell of her hips that were even now touching him. She was just so soft, so warm, so inviting: and she could not be more different from his own raw hard strength.

  “Who could believe this of a marquis?” Adena said lightly with a knowing smile, but without taking her eyes away from the fire. “I think most of the ladies of the ton would be absolutely outraged at such behaviour.”

  Luke could not help but laugh. “Yes, though I am sad to say that it would be you to lose your reputation before I did mine.”

  She shrugged, and he shivered to feel that shrug as well as see it. “‘Tis the way of the world, I suppose. I am not sure if it is even possible to fight against it, though I suppose I am, in my own small way.”

  The smile on her face faltered, and Luke longed to ask her ab
out her strange comment, but before he could, Adena had tilted her head back and shook her long red hair loose.

  “My, but you can never see the stars like this in London.”

  Luke tilted his head and looked up. Where there was often just glare or smog in the town, here above the wide and open ocean there was nothing but starlight.

  “There is Orion, bright and early in the night sky,” Adena murmured, almost too low for Luke to hear her. “And there are the Seven Sisters, though you cannot see all of them tonight, Pleione is hiding.”

  “I would not have guessed that you knew the stars,” Luke said quietly, watching her. “But then, perhaps I should no longer be surprised at you, Miss Adena Garland.”

  A broad smile crept across her face. “And you are unlike any gentleman that I have ever met – and most unlike the only other marquis I have been introduced to, though to be fair he must have been at least three times your age, and so unlikely to entertain in quite the same way.”

  Luke chuckled. “If you mean the Marquis of Chester, then I could not agree more. See now, there is Pollux.”

  He raised his arm to point it out, and felt her nuzzle closer to him, and the instinct to clasp her to him had to be fought down.

  “I think Pollux is my favourite star,” Adena mused.

  “There cannot be many young ladies that have a favourite star.” Luke had not intended to speak aloud, but the words were out before he could recall them to his tongue.

  She glanced at him, and shook her head slightly. “I know, what a disappointment I am! To think that I could have been as empty headed as the rest of them, and here I am, gutting fish, starting fires, and getting into mischief by getting accidentally marooned with a marquis!”

  Luke battled down the feeling to place his arm around her, and instead replied, “You are truly unlike any woman I have ever met – but I am glad of it. I like you, Adena.”

  Immediately, he cursed himself silently. I like you, Adena? What kind of a thing was that to say? Here he was, a man who had prided himself on not getting caught by any of the dangling hooks laid out by the eligible young ladies of the world, and he was throwing himself at this one!

  “Well, I always preferred reading to balls,” Adena said nonchalantly, either not noticing or choosing not to notice his last sentence. “Though I suppose soon, I will no longer have to go to them at all.”

  A darkness fell across Luke’s heart. Ah, yes. The intended fiancé. For almost an hour, he had managed to forget that she was to be married – that would certainly prevent her from needing to attend balls. After all, what was a ball but a sort of cattle market for women?

  My, but he would love to hunt her: to possess her, to make her his own, to ruin her for any other man because he gave her such pleasure that no one else could compare.

  And then Luke blinked, and shook his head as though to shake away those thoughts. What was he, some sort of beagle hunting a fox? Her hair may bear the animal’s colouring, but she was no prey to be pursued, but a prize waiting to be won.

  “It will be a relief to you, I suppose, to be free of such events?”

  Adena nodded. “I tell you now, there is nothing more wearisome than a ball in which one is thrust continuously into society that one would rather avoid. I know the people that I like, and those are the only company I would like to keep.”

  Another spark of jealousy rose within him as Luke tried to imagine the suitor who had won the heart of this incredible woman. He would be intelligent, of course, far more intelligent than he was; titled she had already said, and so wealthy presumably. A strange spectre of a faceless but well-dressed man rose up in Luke’s mind, and he hated him.

  He could ask; and if he knew Adena, she would tell him. But he wouldn’t. It was far easier to hate the poor man as a nameless soul.

  Feeling his arm getting stiff, Luke moved his hand back to lean and stretch it out – and before he could say a word, Adena had unconsciously leaned into his side, and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Every part of him was now tingling, all too aware of her closeness, desperate to cling her to him, but aware that the beautiful Adena was acting on instinct at this moment, not thought.

  He could kiss her. Those red lips were just inches away, but he wouldn’t. Why, he could not tell.

  “I must say, it is all rather strange,” he said a little stiffly, “how all of our generation are starting to pair off.”

  Adena looked up at him, completely open to him, completely vulnerable. “Pair off?”

  Luke nodded. “You know: getting engaged to be married, and then actually going through with it!”

  She chuckled, and he felt the swell of her breasts against his chest. “Well, that is rather the point of an engagement, is it not?”

  “I suppose it is,” Luke murmured, hoping that he was successfully keeping the bitterness out of his voice, but unsure as to whether or not he was managing it. “Each time that I think a friend is safe, they go and get married. Caershire was the most disappointing; I thought I was safe with him.”

  “But is it so strange, really,” came the soft reply. “We all of us get to an age where we start to…well, feel the desire to find a person to share our time on this earth with. When you come across someone who is not repellent, and mildly interests you, why not ‘go and get married’ in your words?”

  Luke shook his head. “Is that enough? To just find someone who you can tolerate, who you think you will not be bored of in five, or fifty years’ time?”

  There was a moment of quiet between them, and then Luke felt Adena sigh.

  “Sometimes,” she said quietly, “that is all you can hope for.”

  “But there is more – or at least, there should be,” countered Luke, nudging a log closer to the fire to watch the sparks fly. “That is what I hope for my friends when they enchain themselves into the married state.”

  She laughed at this, and nudged him playfully. Luke felt his loins stirring once more. “Enchained?”

  “Do you have a better description for it?”

  Adena was smiling, and he could see her lips crease out of the corner of his eye. “I would hope that they find a deep happiness with their spouses, all your friends.”

  Luke knew that the bitterness was going to surface now, but there was nothing that he could do to prevent it. “Ah, deep happiness. Were we not happy, as friends? But that focus, that time and energy, it all moves from our friendship to the marriage, and before you know it, you have not seen them for months – years!”

  Adena’s hands had been clasped in her lap, but now she moved one of them to rest gently on his thigh, and Luke’s heart felt as though it was going to explode. If he had ever needed proof that he was possessed of self-control, even a small amount, it was this.

  “Luke, one day you will find someone that you yourself fall in love with – yes, even you,” she added, as though she was ready to counter all of his arguments to the contrary. “You will find that person utterly irresistible, and you will find yourself willing to do anything, go anywhere, or lose any friendship in order to have them.”

  Luke could barely concentrate on her words, so irritated was he with her sentiment. So, that was what this man made her feel, was it? No wonder she was so at ease with him; her future concerns were met, she need never worry again.

  “I was not going to say this,” he said suddenly, and he felt Adena stiffen by his side, “but I think I have to. By God, Adena, I am a little jealous of this man who you are to marry.”

  6

  Adena started, and was surprised to find herself so closely nestled to the strong man whom she had only met a few hours ago – and who now admitted himself jealous of the man she was to marry?

  “I am sure I should not say such a thing,” he was continuing, and Adena tried to listen to him whilst controlling the heat of confusion that was rising in her chest as she became more conscious of their closeness – and his bizarre words. “But then I do not want to hold back with you. I feel
like…like I can say anything. Even if it means revealing just how envious I am that this man, whoever he is, will have you to himself.”

  Adena felt the heat rising to her cheeks, and a twist of fluttering flattery fanned her heart. Why, to think that Luke was jealous, jealous of a man that simply did not exist! Where had he got this idea from, that she was to be married – and should she tell him?

  Her hand, before so unconsciously touching his thigh, now seemed like a wanton movement, but Adena did not want to move it. Her hand felt natural there, as though it belonged there.

  Luke had turned his head slightly, and he was staring at her now. “Say something,” he said in a low tone, his eyes earnestly seeking hers out.

  She opened her mouth, but hesitated. Surely it would be wrong to allow him to think that she was engaged to be married when she was not – and a part of her, and it was a growing part of her, wanted him to know that she was not. That she was free. That she could be proposed to.

  The thought of him saying such delicious words to her caused another blush, and Adena said distractedly, “Luke, I am confused.”

  And now it was his turn to be embarrassed. She watched as his forehead crinkled and he fought the instinct to look away, but he swallowed and continued gazing into her eyes as he said, in a low and fervent tone, “Only this. That whoever he is, the man whom you have given your heart to, he is a fortunate man, blessed beyond many, and I would gladly give up the title, or the wealth, to exchange places with him.”

  Such words, such feeling: Adena’s breath caught in her lungs and she found herself leaning closer to him, revelling in the feeling of him.

  There was only one thing to say.

  “Luke, I am not engaged,” she said softly, gazing up at him through her lashes.

  If she had expected a jubilant response, she was to be disappointed.

  “Not – not engaged?” Luke’s frown became more furrowed, and he shook his head slowly as he looked out to the sea again. “Now I am the one who is confused.”