Love Forever After

by Patricia Rice

  Chapter 35

  “Don’t,” Penelope whispered. “Don’t tell me anymore. I know what happens. Remembering will not change it. Grief will not bring her back. Pray she is happy now, love her daughter, and know that she would want you to go on with your life.”

  Golden eyes met hers for the first time since the story began. He smoothed her cheek, brushed a tendril from her face. Penelope stared back, fear clawing at her insides. She did not know how he had accomplished it. She did not understand why he had done it, but now that her eyes were open, she knew she had discovered the truth.

  The thin scar along Chadwell’s cheek skirted the eye that Graham had kept patched, but the mark was in the same place. It stopped short of his lips, and she remembered the nights when she had wondered how he had kissed her so fully in the darkness when he could not during the day. Explanations for many little things flooded her mind, but she shoved them aside to answer the hurt in his eyes.

  She traced the scar along his cheek. “I know it is presumptuous of me, but I love you. Could you not give my love a chance to ease the pain, if only just a little?”

  The sun had reached its zenith and poured down on them as Penelope looked and touched as she had never been allowed before.

  “You do not know what you say, my love.” Wonderingly, he caressed the line of her cheek. “You have the power to ease my pain, to lighten my days and nights, to make me whole again, but I have only treachery and deceit to offer you in return.” He brushed his lips along her brow.

  “No more deceit. If we ever escape, we will start anew. Can’t we?” Penelope pleaded with him as his kisses worked their magic. She could no longer think but only respond to the need swelling between them.

  He had taken away her hopes of rescue. There was naught else they could do but wait for their captor to return. What difference did it make now if they should spend their last hours in each other’s arms?

  Penelope clung to the strength of Graham’s shoulders as his tongue plundered her mouth and aroused her to an aching desire. He eased her into his lap so his hand could roam freely, cupping her breast while his kiss deepened. That wasn’t enough, and wantonly, she teased his tongue with hers, and her hand strayed to find the fastenings of his shirt.

  She lovingly traced the scars below his collarbone, and when he loosened the drawstring of her bodice, she felt no fear. However it came to be, this handsome man she knew as Chadwell was her husband, and she loved him.

  Graham lowered her bodice and chemise and splayed his bare hand along the side of her breast while his thumb played with the rising peak. He had no need of the glove any longer, and she reveled in the sensation of his skin against hers.

  Penelope caught her breath as Graham’s mouth transferred from her lips to her breast, but the pleasure released all inhibition. She arched into his embrace, ran her fingers along the strong column of his throat to the hard muscled planes of his chest, and deliriously felt the rigid line of his arousal beneath her. She knew where this led, and she wanted it as much as he. More, because now she could look up into his handsome face and run her fingers through his hair and know he would not reject her caress.

  As if sensing her need to look and touch, Graham returned her to the bench and helped her to pull off his shirt. Her hand was dwarfed by the broad expanse revealed, but he gave her little time to explore. He released the ribbons of her chemise and pushed it downward with her gown. with the simple expedient of lifting her with one arm about her waist, he removed gown and chemise in one swoop until she was naked against him.

  Spreading his coat across the rough bench, Graham lay her upon it, then stood to complete his own undressing. Able to see him clearly for the first time, Penelope watched unabashedly. She lifted her arms to welcome him.

  She shivered in ecstasy at the first touch of his heated flesh against hers. She opened to him without hesitation. Graham lingered, seeking the pulse at her throat with his kiss, stroking her curves with his broad hands as he learned the secrets of her body in the filtered light of the sun.

  Penelope read his pleasure in the way he lifted his head to look at her, in the sensual line of his mouth as he bent to kiss her again, and in the golden gleam of his eyes as he discovered her joy. She had not thought such happiness possible from simply knowing she was the one he wanted. He chased away any remaining doubts that he cared.

  They came together then, blending with a grace born of desire and a powerful hunger. Graham’s body moved within hers, wakening her fully to the purpose it was designed for. Swelling with the need to welcome him, Penelope moaned his name in pleasure and rocked with him. Needing no further encouragement, Graham thrust deeply into the cradle of her body, bringing them to the precipice and over.

  Afterward, Graham lifted his heavy weight, but Penelope could not bear to let him go, and she dragged him back. His hips pressed against hers, flattening her spine to the hard board they lay on, but she held him while she could. She felt him raise up on his hands to look at her, and she smiled and looked up to him with satisfaction.

  “I love you,” she murmured.

  “There are times when I almost believe you,” he muttered in wonder, caressing a long tendril of hair from her cheek. “Whatever happened to my unromantic Penelope?”

  The gaze of just one of Graham’s golden eyes had been difficult enough to deal with. It would take some time to accept the effect of two.

  “A wicked prince disguised as a beast stole her heart and taught it to love. I don’t think she’ll ever be the same again.”

  “He’s still a beast,” he warned. “All the fairy tales in the world won’t change him.”

  “Oh, he’s a beast, no doubt.” Penelope closed her eyes and shivered with pleasure as his hand claimed her breast, and she felt the tightening in his groin. “And it’s quite possible I shall live to regret becoming his victim, but let us pretend just a little while longer.”

  “This part is not the pretense, Penelope,” Graham whispered against her ear as he moved inside her again. “This is the part that is real.”

  And so it was. His beard scraped against her skin wherever he kissed her. Her posterior could already feel the bruises of their cruel bed. Graham’s masculine scent had a strong flavor of brandy, but Penelope would not give up one particle of the reality of their love-making. She knew she was not dreaming when her body arched and met the driving demand of his. She could taste the perspiration rolling down his chest, see the strain of his jaw muscles as he sought his release with her own, and knew his pleasure was as real as the one exploding inside her. Whatever the outside world held, this was real.

  They slept wrapped in each other’s arms until the sun lowered, turning the twilight to damp. When he could no longer warm her with his heat, Graham swung his foolish wife into his lap and reached for her clothes.

  Sleepily she wriggled into chemise and gown but resisted standing up so he could pull them over her hips. She curled against his chest, not wanting to be disturbed.

  Graham chuckled. “I do believe this is where we began this morning, my lady, although admittedly, I am enjoying it much more without my clothes.”

  She finally opened her eyes to glance at the grate above their heads. “Will they come soon?” Obediently she stood when Graham lifted her to the floor.

  “Unless they mean to starve us to death,” he replied grimly, reaching for his trousers.

  A faint howling in the distance added eerie emphasis to his words. There was light yet above, but in this deep shaft, all was shadow. If someone came, they couldn’t lift them out without their cooperation. That was small consolation. Their enemies could simply leave them to starve.

  “What will they do?” Penelope asked. “If we are being held for ransom, who is left to pay it?”

  Graham didn’t know what would happen if their captors thought he was still above and they just held his cousin. Who would they go to if they couldn’t find him?

  The howling came closer. Penelope cast the grate anoth
er nervous glance while Graham shrugged into his shirt. “Surely there are no wolves in this place?”

  He stopped fastening his cuff to listen. “No wolves, but it’s rather an odd time for a fox hunt, too. I wonder if the creature is in pain?”

  The staccato barks following the howl put an end to that theory. Graham hastily shoved his shirt into his trousers and fastened them. “Give me some of that cheese.”

  Penelope broke off a hunk and held it while Graham sought for the toe and hand holds he had found earlier. Part way up the wall, he held out his hand for the cheese. It was an awkward position to throw from, but he heaved the hunk upward. It reached the top but toppled straight back down. Graham cursed while Penelope searched the floor for the crumb. This was their supper he was playing with.

  His second try was more successful, and he grunted of satisfaction when the cheese did not fall back. He dropped to the floor. The dog’s yelps were louder, followed by a distant mumble of voices.

  “Do dogs like cheese?” Penelope asked.

  “We will hope this one does. Prepare to yell with all your might. This place is not easily seen even when you’re on top of it.”

  “Do you really think they are looking for us?” Penelope clutched Graham’s arm for support.

  He circled her waist and continued staring upward. “The man or men who put us here did so in the dark of night and without the infernal commotion of a dog. I can think of no other reason why someone would be out there. Yell, Penelope, they are closer.”

  They yelled. They screamed. They laughed at the echoing sounds they produced. Graham’s roar bounced off the walls like thunder. Penelope pitched her soprano higher. In minutes, the cries of other voices came closer.

  “They’re coming! Oh, Graham, they’re coming!” Penelope hugged him, burying her face against his shoulder. “Will they be able to get us out?”

  “If they have a rope and a place to tie it, I’ll get us out. It will be all right.” His words were meant to reassure, but he remained tense.

  A childish voice screamed in excitement, and the dog’s howls and yips echoed down the shaft. A dirty, tear-begrimed face appeared at the grate, and garbled cries of delight obliterated any coherent speech.

  “Pippin!” Penelope gazed up at the boy in astonishment. She recognized the ugly hound sniffing the grate for more cheese. The hungry stray had some use, after all.

  Adult voices followed, and soon Pippin was replaced by Guy. “Are you all right?”

  “We’ll be better when you get a confounded rope down to us. Look around up there. He’s been using some kind of winch to lower us,” Graham called.

  Guy moved away. Penelope recognized John’s voice. From a distance, the sound of horses and carriage echoed.

  “I don’t know how in hell your orphan brat found us, but I think I will send him to Oxford one day,” Graham muttered in Penelope’s ear.

  “I sent Pippin and John to find Nell,” she told him. “They must have been together when they found me missing. And he’s not my orphan. You found him first.”

  “I suppose I did. He never was one to stay put. He’d run away that time I met you. Where did he find the dog?”

  “That’s Mate.” Penelope would have gone into further nervous explanation, but an eruption of excitement above distracted her.

  “Here it is! Get that damned grate off. Pippin, get the blamed dog out of here before he falls down the hole!”

  Guy’s exasperation was apparent, and Penelope giggled. How had he ever led a company of soldiers when he could not deal with a small boy and a dog? Graham gave her a telling look, but made no comment on her giggles. Keeping her in his embrace as if fearful she would escape, he patiently watched the rescue process.

  At last, the grate was removed and a thick rope slithered down the wall. When it nearly reached shoulder level, Graham kissed Penelope and tilted her chin to look up at him. “Be strong, Penelope. Don’t let me hurt you. I’m not worth it.”

  His words terrified her, as they were meant to do. She had not thought beyond escaping, but obviously he had. She didn’t know what he meant to do, but she recognized the hardness of his expression. If she needed any further proof that Chadwell was the man she had married, she could read it in the terrible scowl that she knew as Graham’s.

  Before she could respond, Graham had released her to tug on the rope. He tested it with his full weight, then satisfied, gestured for Penelope to join him. Anxious faces peered down from above.

  “I’ll need both hands to climb this. I want you to hang on to my neck. I’ll wrap the extra length around us for protection, but don’t let go, Penelope. It’s much too dangerous. Just hang onto me and we will be out of here in a few seconds.”

  It was a most unladylike position he asked of her, but Penelope nodded. Gazing upward, she could not imagine how he would haul both of them out of here, but she would not doubt his word. She allowed him to tie the rope around them, binding them together so he sheltered her with his body.

  She could not watch. She heard the quiet encouragement of those above as Graham pulled them up the rope, hand over hand, using his feet to half walk them up the rocks and to keep from bumping against the jagged edges. But she could not look down to their prison below.

  Hands caught and pulled her to safety along with Graham. He crawled out of the hole, his fingers working the knot between them. The sun still lingered up here, and Penelope opened her eyes to gaze up into his worried face. The knot slipped free, and Graham bent over to soothe her lips with a long, searing kiss.

  “What the devil?” Guy’s furious cry intruded as he grabbed the back of Graham’s shirt and jerked him upward.

  Graham leapt to his feet and raised his fists, prepared to defend himself. Guy backed away, bewilderment creasing his brow as he gazed from the handsome rake confronting him to Penelope, who was righting her gown. She flushed with the difficulty of explaining that the man with dark curly hair and nearly perfect features was Graham. Or should she explain?

  Seeing that she did not express outrage at this assault, Guy turned his speculative gaze back to the man she had been trapped with. “Graham?” Incredulity laced his voice.

  While Penelope hugged Pippin and fought off the excited licks of his huge hound, Graham watched someone stepping from the carriage that had stopped below the ruins. Scarred features tightened into harsh lines, and he raised his fists in balls of fury.

  Terrified, Penelope turned, expecting to find the evil villain who had imprisoned them. She saw only Arthur limping across the rocks. Behind him and obviously disobeying orders, Dolly leapt from the carriage to run after him.

  “By the devil, I cannot believe you’d be so dashed bottle-brained as to ever step in my presence again, but if you think that your infamy has gone unnoticed, you will pay for your conceit now.” Graham strode down the hill.

  Penelope’s screams joined Dolly’s and were accompanied by Guy’s shouts, but neither man halted. Graham swung first and Arthur dodged the blow, but the second powerful blow caught his mid-section. The younger man crumpled to the ground, but gamely, he tried to scramble back up.

  Running down the hill, Guy grabbed Graham’s shirt-sleeved arm, holding him back with difficulty while Dolly covered her fallen brother with her own body. Her tearful cries made no impression on Graham. His rigid jaw indicated he waited only for the opportunity to strike again.

  “By gad, you cannot strike a lame man! Have you taken leave of your senses?” Guy positioned himself between Dolly’s brother and what he must perceive as a strange Graham.

  Penelope stepped hesitantly toward her husband, but he seemed neither to see nor care for her presence. Rage and hatred had drawn him into a rigid statue.

  Was Arthur the man Graham had labeled the “troublemaker”? Surely he could not be the one who had betrayed him and left him to die? Five years ago Arthur would have been no more than a boy of twenty.

  Arthur regained his feet. Leaning on Dolly, he searched Graham’s face withou
t understanding. “How? How have you hidden yourself all these years? At least let us have some explanations before I call my seconds.”

  Graham glared, but scornfully, he moistened his finger and wiped at one corner of his dark eyebrow. The paint smeared, leaving a glimmer of gray in the thick hairs above his scarred eye. “Call your seconds, Reardon. I’m no invalid. The choice of weapons is yours, but with that leg, I’d recommend pistols. I think we can both see well enough to make it a fair fight.”

  “No!” Dolly screamed hysterically, clinging to her brother’s coat. “Arthur, tell him! Tell him you have done nothing wrong!”

  Guy continued standing between his two friends, eyeing Graham critically. “How did you do the hair? It’s been gray since we were boys.”

  Penelope saw Graham’s jaw twitch with fury, but John touched her arm, deferentially shaking his head as if to ward her away. Sick at her stomach, she didn’t know which way to turn. These people were her friends. She had thought them Graham’s friends. Why had he turned on them?

  Silently Graham pried at the tight covering upon his forehead. He peeled off the dark wig and flung it to the ground. The familiar wild mane of rough-cropped silver hair stood out against the darkness. To forestall further questions, he added, “And the scar was sticking plaster. Now out of my way, Hamilton. That man is as responsible for Marilee’s death as all the others, and this time, he’s gone too far. Penelope could have died from that drug he gave her, or from a fall down that shaft. I’ll not settle for his just leaving the country this time. I’m going to kill him.”

  Arthur blanched, but Dolly’s shrieks drowned anything he had to say. Guy looked shocked and turned to Penelope for confirmation of this new accusation.

  She shook off John’s restraining hand and walked down to join them. “Graham, I cannot say that it was Arthur who kidnapped me. I cannot remember anything. How would he carry me out of the house? He can barely stand alone.”