THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA

by Victoria Alexander

  Simply in love.

  Totally, completely without question in love. He’d suspected it and wasn’t at all sure why he hadn’t fully realized it before now. Perhaps he just didn’t recognize it. Or maybe he hadn’t been ready to accept it. Love and all that went with it was a daunting proposition. He’d never been one to hedge his bets, although in this case, the wager was for his heart and the rest of his life.

  Alex stopped and called back to him. “Are you coming?”

  Always. The realization lightened his heart and his step. He nodded and hurried after her.

  Chapter 14

  Good, Robert was finally following her. A moment ago, he’d looked lost in thought. Interesting, as Alex needed a few moments to think herself. She reached the lake and started along the shore.

  It was only a kiss. Well, two kisses, but each rather remarkable, which made no sense whatsoever. She’d been kissed before. All of her fiancés had been quite good at it. Certainly her response now was attributable to the fact that she hadn’t been kissed in quite some time. Why, any woman might be swept away after a period of utter abstinence.

  Except for the annoying fact that when he’d taken her in his arms, when his lips had met hers, the most remarkable things had happened. A fluttering like the beating of a thousand tiny wings had settled deep in her abdomen, and an ache—no, a thrill; no, a shiver; oh, she had no idea what, but something—had swept through her. Something irresistible and unimagined and quite, quite wonderful. Without any conscious thought at all, she’d clung to him as if her very life depended upon his. And she knew without question, without doubt, that it did.

  Dear God, she’d done exactly what she’d vowed not to do. The thought pulled her up short, and she nearly stumbled.

  Somehow, between the time he’d first appeared and thought she was a servant and the moment his lips met hers, she had fallen in love with the man. With her husband. A man she barely knew.

  No. Her step slowed. She did know him. She knew how his brow furrowed when he was deep in thought. How the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed in that completely American way he had, as if he was setting a laugh free to go out and conquer the world. She knew how he told the most awful jokes—obviously an American trait—that nonetheless made her laugh.

  She had no idea when it—when love—had happened. It had crept up on her when she wasn’t watching. It might have been when she’d noticed how flirtatious he was with Lady Penwood, which delighted the older lady to no end. Or perhaps when she saw how he treated Brian Wilcox and his men without regard to his station or theirs. It was very American of him, and she liked it. Most people in the county were friendly and casual—they had known each other for generations. But even dear George—who had been thoughtful in very nearly every other way—was a bit of a snob. Or maybe it was his endearing arrogance—there was nothing as enjoyable as taking Robert down a peg. Or maybe it was … she had no idea, really. It was the sum total of the man that had conquered her heart.

  Love had simply claimed her between one breath and the next.

  And perhaps at last kissing him had just made her realize it. He was her husband, of course, and one did hope one would love one’s husband, although one didn’t expect love to strike without warning. She’d been in love before—or at least thought she was—but this was different. This, this feeling pulsed in her veins and rocked her sensibilities and stole her breath. This seemed—no, this was—right. She had no doubt whatsoever.

  Because this time, she wasn’t looking for the orb to prove it.

  Alex reached her favorite spot and perched on the back of Merlin’s throne to wait for Robert. He was no more than a minute behind her. Which should have been enough time to allow her heart to stop racing, although with Robert, she suspected that might never happen. It was not an unpleasant thought.

  Robert pushed aside the curtain of willow branches and joined her. “Well, this is private. I can see why you would consider it a sanctuary.”

  “This has been my favorite place since the moment I found it.” She gazed out at the lake. “As a child, I believed it was mine and mine alone. That no one had discovered it before me except possibly Nimue and Merlin. I thought the rock looked like a throne, you see.”

  “You have an excellent imagination.” He considered the boulder for a moment. “I suppose it does look like a throne at that.”

  She patted the space beside her. He settled back against the rock.

  “And this view of the lake, framed by the rocks and the trees, looks like a painting.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve tried to paint it in watercolors unsuccessfully—I’m not very good. But I prefer to think it simply can’t be captured on paper.”

  “It is beautiful.”

  “There’s magic here, Robert.” She smiled. “Can you feel it?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noted he was staring at her. “You’re not looking at the lake, are you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re looking at me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you mean it?” She adopted a casual tone. “When you said all you think about is me?”

  He chuckled. “It’s damned inconvenient.”

  She bit back a smile. “I like being inconvenient.”

  “I know.”

  She stared at the water, smooth and calm and in total contradiction to the emotions swirling inside her. “I never learned how to swim,” she said without thinking.

  “We’ll have to do something about that.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ll teach you. We can brave the water together.” He paused. “You can trust me.”

  “Are we still talking about the lake?” She held her breath.

  “I don’t think so,” he said slowly.

  She stood and turned toward him. “I have a confession to make.”

  He rose to his feet. “I’ve always been fond of confessions. Is it a good one?”

  “I suppose it depends.” She summoned her courage and stared into his blue eyes—the exact same color of the lake—and nearly lost her nerve. Absurd, of course. The man had already confessed his own feelings. “I think about you a great deal too.”

  His brow rose. “Just a great deal?”

  “Frequently.”

  “Only frequently?”

  “Very well.” She huffed. “All the time.”

  He grinned. “Good.”

  “Would you like to kiss me again?” she asked in an offhand manner as if it was of no particular importance, as if her heart wasn’t racing in her chest.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me in order to get it over with?”

  “Not at all.” Her gaze met his, and her breath caught. “Although I do think it’s time—well, past time, really—to get on with it, which has nothing to do with getting it over with”—she added quickly—“but everything to do with, well, longing and desire, I think, and I’m not sure what else”—dear God she was babbling—“but it does seem to me that if two people think about each other all the time and—”

  Without another word, he tugged her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Dear Lord, it was better than the last time. Her body tingled, and her knees weakened. The man simply stole her breath and her soul. And when at last he released her and she stepped back, she realized an instant too late she had nowhere to go. Her arms flailed, and she tried to regain her balance. Robert grabbed for her, but she was already out of reach and tumbling backward into the lake.

  Alex sank under the water, her rear end thudding on the lake bed. She immediately bounced up and surfaced, shaking her head and sputtering. At the same time, an enormous splash washed over her, and within a moment, Robert’s head emerged from the water beside her.

  She wiped the water from her eyes. “What are you doing?”

  “You can’t swim.” His brows drew together, apparently realizing his mistake. “I’m rescuing you?”
>
  The man really was endearing. “I can’t really swim, but I’m not afraid of water. This isn’t the first time I’ve fallen in.” She stood up, and the water barely reached her waist. “I believe you can stand here.”

  He stood, a sheepish look on his face. “I assumed it was deeper.”

  “It’s not.”

  “Yes, well …” He ran his hand through his hair to shake some of the water out. “That does change things.”

  She laughed. All sorts of things had changed. She leaned close and brushed her lips across his. “Why, yes, I believe it does.” Alex turned, took a step, and her foot twisted on the slick rocks and pain stabbed her ankle. She sucked in a quick breath and grimaced. “I might need rescuing after all. I think I may have twisted my ankle.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Of course.” She hobbled toward the shore. “If I could just lean on you …”

  “I think we can do better than that.” Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the shore.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “This isn’t necessary, you know.”

  He nodded. “I do know, but I like it.”

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Are you going to carry me all the way back to the house?” Not a bad idea, really. She rather liked being in his arms.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “But I must be terribly heavy.”

  “Far more than I expected,” he said under his breath.

  “A gentleman does not comment on a lady’s weight,” she said primly.

  “Sorry.”

  “You do realize it’s because of my dress,” she pointed out. “It’s soaked and therefore very heavy.”

  He bit back a grin. “Yes, I can see that.”

  “It’s uphill all the way to the house, you know.”

  “I know that too.”

  “This is quite gallant of you, but you really can put me down. All I need is a bit of support.”

  He stopped and glared at her. “I am carrying you back to the house, so you can stop arguing about it.” He started off.

  “My, you are stubborn, and I wasn’t arguing. I was trying to be thoughtful. This is obviously difficult for you.”

  “It’s not easy,” he muttered.

  “Because of the wet skirts,” she added quickly.

  “You’re right.” He stopped, shifted her in his arms, then tossed her over his shoulder and again started for the house.

  “Put me down!” Her head dangled behind him, and she had an excellent view of his exceptional rear end. His arms were wrapped around her, wedged just under her own bottom. She bounced with every step he took. “This isn’t the least bit comfortable.” Although admittedly, it was oddly exciting.

  “Sorry.”

  “You say that a lot.”

  “I can’t imagine why.”

  She fell quiet for a moment, not sure what to say next. “Should we talk about it? The fact that you kissed me, that is.”

  “And that you kissed me back. With a great deal of eagerness, I might add.”

  “Not the first time.” It was actually easier to discuss this without looking at him, although the bouncing made talking difficult. “The first was a surprise.”

  “For both of us.”

  “You didn’t intend to kiss me?” She couldn’t hide a distinct note of disappointment in her voice.

  “Oh, I’ve intended to kiss you for some time.”

  “Then why haven’t you?” Damn. That wasn’t at all what she’d planned to say.

  “It was never the right time.”

  “And the right time was today?”

  “Apparently.”

  She thought for a moment. “Now what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Where do we go from here?”

  “To the house.”

  “And then?”

  “Well, I suppose that’s yet to be determined.”

  They reached the drive in time to see Brian and his men arriving. Wonderful. The entire neighborhood would know about this by tomorrow.

  “Good day, my lord. Lady Brynmore,” Brian called from the front drive.

  “Good Lord,” she murmured but raised her head and smiled as if she weren’t dangling over her husband’s back. “Good day, Brian.”

  “Wilcox.” Robert nodded. She could hear the grin in his voice. It should have annoyed her, but oddly enough, she could see how someone—not her but someone—might see the humor in a soaked Lord Brynmore carting an equally wet Lady Brynmore toward Nimway Hall.

  “Need help, my lord?”

  “I’ve got it, Wilcox.” He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, my lord.”

  Alex winced. Dear God, this was humiliating.

  Pearson opened the door just as they reached it. “May I be of assistance, my lord?”

  Alex groaned to herself. The staff was well aware Robert had not moved into the bedroom adjacent to hers. Given a few casual comments Millie had dropped, the state of Alex and Robert’s marriage was frequently the topic of speculation and concern below stairs.

  “Yes. Please send a note to Mr. Hamill canceling my meetings for today. Tell him he has the day off. I’ll see him tomorrow.” He started up the stairs. Alex cast Pearson a weak smile.

  “At once, my lord.”

  “You’re rather confident, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

  “Always.” He paused. “Unless you disagree.”

  “Oh, I certainly think giving Mr. Hamill a day off is a good idea.” She grinned. “Where are we going?”

  “To your room, of course.”

  “And then?”

  He chuckled, and her breath caught. She’d bet the new roof Robert was about to have his way with her. Or perhaps she’d have her way with him. Good.

  They passed Millie in the upstairs hall.

  “Goodness.” The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re soaked. Are you dripping?”

  Alex couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Not anymore.”

  Millie stared. “That’s good, then.”

  Robert opened her door, stepped into her room, and set her on her feet. “How’s the ankle?”

  “A bit twingy.” She gingerly put her weight on her ankle. “But it might not be twisted after all.”

  “Then you’re not in any pain?”

  She shook her head.

  “You are soaked.”

  “Indeed I am.” Robert was far more casual in the morning, before anyone arrived from the village, and had forsaken coats and ties weeks ago, wearing nothing but a shirt and trousers. “As are you. We should get those wet clothes off of you.”

  She stepped closer and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, her gaze never shifting from his.

  “My father was scandalized when men began wearing shirts that buttoned up the front,” he said mildly.

  “Really? I would think they are rather … convenient.” She popped open the second button.

  “Extremely convenient.” He caught her hand, his gaze still locked with hers, raised it to his lips, and pressed a kiss into her palm. A shiver of anticipation raced through her.

  “Robert.” The word was scarcely more than a moan from somewhere deep inside.

  He pulled her into his arms, and his lips met hers, warm and supple and demanding. And she demanded in return, opening her mouth to his, her tongue dueling with his. He pulled away to trail kisses along her jaw and down to the base of her throat. Her head dropped back, and her hands gripped his arms for support.

  Within moments, their clothes were peeled from their damp bodies, dropped in sodden piles of fabric strewn around the room—a frantic effort born of need and desire too long denied. Her wet body pressed against his, the heat of his flesh searing hers, and they tumbled onto the bed. She marveled that she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed that her naked body was wrapped around his but rather thought the feel of his bare skin next to hers to be nothing short of remarkab
le.

  His lips met hers, claimed hers in an endless kiss, then he wrenched his mouth away to rain kisses along her jaw and down her throat and lower. One hand skimmed along her side to caress her hips. The other cupped her breast. He took her nipple in his mouth, and she gasped at the unexpected sensation shooting through her, pooling low in her abdomen. He teased with tongue and teeth, lavishing attention on one breast then the other until she writhed on the bed and wanted, needed, yearned for more. Demanded more.

  She couldn’t get enough of him in return. Of the taste of him. The smell of him. The feel of his skin under her touch. Her hands, her mouth explored the planes and valleys of his firm, taut body. Lost in a world of sheer sensation, she wanted more.

  His hand slipped between her legs and slid over those most private parts of her that he’d touched late in the night, deep in her dreams. Oh God. Her back arched, and her legs fell open, and she moaned with every stroke of his fingers. The oddest, loveliest feeling of tension curled within her.

  And when she thought surely she would lose her mind from the exquisite pleasure and sheer yearning spiraling within her, he entered her, murmuring into her ear, “Should I get on with it?”

  She moaned. “Dear Lord, yes.”

  He pushed into her slowly, steadily—a decidedly strange sensation but not terribly uncomfortable. Until it was. She’d been warned that there might be some pain, and indeed it, well, stung.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Robert.”

  He stopped at once. “Are you all right?”

  “Not at the moment, but I have it on very good authority I will be.” Mother had been shockingly clear on what Alex could expect. She nodded and braced herself. “Please continue.”

  He withdrew then slowly slid back into her. With every restrained thrust, the pain lessened to be replaced by a rather extraordinary sensation. Without conscious thought, she wrapped her legs around his and rocked her hips against him. He thrust into her faster and harder, and she met and matched his movements with her own. They moved in an ever-increasing rhythm, an eternal dance of body and soul, until at last her body seemed to explode with sheer delight and unsuspected bliss. And he drove into her hard, shuddering with release, moaning her name.