The Marquess is Mine: League of Unweddable Gentlemen, Book 6

by Gill, Tamara

  Sarah turned without seeing if they followed, but she could hear the crunch of their shoes in the snow that told her they did. Sarah ground her teeth, having wanted to dance the waltz with Giles herself.

  She continued through the drawing room, determined to find their butler, who would be acting as the major-domo for the ball. This year, the St. Albans Christmas ball would have two waltzes, not one.

  Chapter 6

  Giles escaped the house party later that afternoon. He stepped out the servant's back door, pulling his greatcoat closed, the brisk, afternoon air as cold as an arctic blast. He started toward the stables with quickened steps, noting the stable doors were closed. He let himself inside via a smaller side door, grateful to be out of the inclement weather.

  The air inside the stables was a lot warmer, the building so well made that not a cold draft or freezing drop of rain penetrated the space.

  A cooing and light, feminine chatter caught his attention, and frowning, he moved forward along the stalls, looking into each one to see who was there. Warmth speared through his blood at the sight of Sarah brushing her mount, her hands running along the flank of the sixteen-hand chestnut after each stroke of her brush.

  The sight of her hands stroking the animal's flesh should not tempt him, but it did. From the moment she'd kissed him in London all those years ago, he'd thought of little else. Every woman he'd ever bedded, flirted with at entertainments, sated his lust with, all bore a striking resemblance to Sarah, and he knew the reason why.

  He'd wanted her above everyone else from the moment their lips had touched.

  His father, a proud and strict gentleman, would not allow his courtship of her due to her being Lord Hugh Farley's sibling. He'd been told in terms that brooked little argument that Lady Sarah was not suitable for the Gordan family, no matter her rank, and for him to look elsewhere unless he wanted to live life penniless.

  He should have called his father's bluff, tested him on his words, and offered to Sarah anyway. He may have become poor as a result, but there was one thing his father could not take from him, and that was the title he would eventually inherit. Sarah herself was not without funds. They would have survived. A foolish mistake and one he would regret always.

  Giles leaned over the stable door, content to watch her coo to her horse and enjoy her solitary time away. He wished he'd stood up to his father and told him that the rumors against Hugh were unfounded and possibly untrue, which they were proven to be in the end. That Lady Sarah was innocent of any slight.

  That his sire had persuaded him to offer to Edith, now Lady Rackliffe, and he had, was an action that even he would find hard to excuse.

  When Sarah had kissed him, but a day after his betrothal, he'd been so livid, not at Sarah, but himself for choosing the wrong woman. He'd lashed out, punished Sarah with words that had been untrue. Hurt the one woman he had wanted simply because he could not change the error of his ways.

  He did not deserve her now, not after making her wait all this time, but he could not leave her be. A fire burned in his soul, and it was only Sarah who could extinguish it.

  He wanted her.

  Giles cleared his throat. "We missed you after luncheon. I did not know that you were hiding out here in the stables, or I would have joined you sooner."

  Sarah walked about the back of her horse, pushing the mare across a little so she could brush the opposite side. "You should know that I often escape out here. The staff has been allowed the day to join their families for the festive season, and so I'm checking on the horses instead. They'll be back later this evening, but I needed to brush Opie in any case."

  Giles watched her work the brush over the horse’s back, the mare calm, her head lowered and her eyes barely open. "You're putting your horse to sleep."

  Sarah chuckled, and the sound did odd things to him. He wanted to hear her laugh, her jovial voice, for the rest of his life. If he could persuade her to love him as he hoped she once had, their lives could be perfect.

  "She relishes a good brush." Sarah slipped under the horse's neck, coming to stand before him. "What are you doing out here, my lord? I thought you would be too busy with Lady Rackliffe following you about every minute of every day to escape to the stables."

  Was that jealousy he heard in her tone? He narrowed his eyes, shrugging. "Lady Rackliffe is happily situated indoors. I wanted to find you."

  Sarah reached over the wooden door, sliding the lock across to let herself out. "Her ladyship will be most unhappy to have lost the company of her preferred."

  "I'm not her preferred."

  She laughed again. This time, he did not miss her mocking tone. "Oh, yes, you are. She's quite determined to secure you. However will you evade her charms? From what I remember, you were quite taken with them once before."

  Giles helped her shut the stable door before bolting it closed. "That was a long time ago. She's not whom I want."

  A light blush stole across her cheeks before she stepped around him, evading his eyes and his company. Giles followed her to the back of the stables to where a large pile of hay was stacked and strewn over the floor.

  She turned, lifting her chin and once again was a duke's daughter, proud and confident. "What are you doing out in the stables, my lord? Are you going to help me give the horses some feed, or did you come out to go for a ride? I do not want to hold you up in any way."

  He had intended going for a ride, but the idea was no longer so tempting. Not with Sarah keeping him company. "I will help, most gladly." Giles helped her load biscuits of hay for each horse, check their water and stalls for any steaming piles. After filling the last of the horse's water, he turned to find Sarah sitting on the hay, watching him, her eyes bright with amusement.

  "You're laughing at me, why is that?" he asked, washing his hands in a small bowl, before striding over to her.

  She grinned. "No reason. I just like seeing you like this. It reminds me of how we used to be when doing things together. Do you remember?"

  "I do." He flopped down next to her, leaning back to look up at the wooden rafters above them, the hay acting as a barrier against the cold. Giles had to admit that right at this moment, his blood was heated. No doubt due to the fact he was with Sarah and quite alone at that. "There was nothing better than to explore the wilderness about the estate. I keep meaning to visit the fort out in the woods."

  "It's still there." She leaned back next to him, her attention also on the roof.

  Giles took the opportunity to watch her, taking in the pretty sweep of her nose, full lips, and faultless skin. He'd dreamed about her so often, but having her near, hearing her voice was so much better than any fantasy.

  "I believe the sword you and Hugh carved is also. In the summer, I still use the fort. It’s a wonderful place to read and not be disturbed."

  "Your father was a clever man. I never doubted that it was not still standing."

  She smiled at him, and his stomach clenched. She was so very close. He wanted to lean across the small space that separated them and kiss her. To do so would be dangerous, considering their current status, but even so, the pull to have her in his arms was overwhelming.

  He clenched his fists into the straw at his sides, forcing himself to court her slowly and not keep molesting her with every chance offered.

  "He was, wasn't he?" She turned, studying him a moment. "How long are we going to lie here, my lord?"

  Giles frowned, meeting her gaze. "Stay here? Did you wish to return to the house? We can, if that is your wish."

  "No," she said, chuckling. "I meant to say, how long are we going to lie here before you kiss me, Giles? That is what I'd like to know."

  Chapter 7

  Sarah was well aware she was playing with fire. Lord Gordan was a reputed rake. A man made for pleasure and fun. Not a gentleman easily brought to heel.

  Not that she wished to control him, but she could not bear to hear of any liaisons he had should they continue along this path of courtship. His absence f
rom her life had been severing. To be married and know that one's husband was unfaithful would be unbearable.

  Even so, lying beside him in the hay, watching as his eyes darkened with wicked intent, she couldn't help but throw herself into the wild. For so many years, she'd not lived as she ought to have, no more would she wither away, secluded in Kent or Bath.

  With an elder brother who hosted scandalous parties and cared little for restraint and her other sibling abroad under a shadow of scandal, she had hidden away, not wanting to be any further embarrassment or fodder for town gossip.

  Sarah had managed and accepted her lot in life as well as anyone could in her position. But having Giles's dark-blue eyes all but devour her person as he closed the space between them, she knew to her very core that she was in trouble.

  That allowing him such liberties would forever change her and her steadfast denial of her feelings for him that she had long bottled away, corked, and shelved.

  His lips brushed hers, warm and soft, and a frisson of need coursed through her blood. He lifted his hand, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "You're so beautiful. You may not believe me, but I've wanted you for so long. I attended each Season in town only to be disappointed when I heard you were not attending."

  Sarah clasped his nape, sliding her hand up into his soft, golden locks. She steeled herself not to be carried away by his words. Their friendship had been distant for so long. It would take time for her to adjust to his enlightenment of what they could have. To trust him as she once had.

  "Why did you never attend one of Henry's house parties then, or call at the Abbey? You knew I was here. You knew I was alone."

  Pain crossed his features as she waited for his answer. "I wanted to come and see you. So much, Sarah, but my father kept me busy elsewhere and always demanded I attend the Season and stay in town."

  "Had you been able to see me, what would you have said?" Or done? The question hovered on her lips and between them. She wanted to know would he have acted sooner. Defied his father for her had he seen her face-to-face. It was a lot harder to deny one's feelings when standing before the person one cared for.

  "I should have done what I've wanted to for so long." He kissed her again, urging her to lie on the straw. She adjusted her position as little prickly stalks jabbed through the jacket over her gown. The feel of his tongue begging entry made her gasp, and he delved into her mouth. Warmth settled between her thighs, and she squeezed her legs a little, trying to stem her need. How was it that this man, an enemy only a week before, could make her so willing in his arms?

  The kiss turned heated, his demands raw and hard, and unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Her senses reeled, her breath hitched. She relished Giles like this. A little wild and without restraint. Sarah clasped the lapels of his jacket, holding him against her. His hand slid down her waist, his clever fingers sliding across to tease the undersides of her breasts, but no farther. Frustration made her whimper, and she pushed against him, wanting his hand to move, to kneed her aching flesh.

  With each breath she took, her gown scraped against her nipples, spiking pleasure and want. She craved the feel of his hands upon her person. It didn't matter as to where so long as he gave her what she wanted.

  His manhood settled against her core, and she whimpered, a spike of pleasure making her wet. Even with the abundance of skirts and multiple petticoats and two layers of stockings, Sarah could feel the substantial size of him. His hardness tempted her to squirm and rub up against him like a house cat looking for a good scratch.

  She gasped, breaking the kiss, needing to calm her racing heart. Giles did not stop his assault. Oh no, he kissed his way down her neck, his tongue and teeth teasing her earlobe. The heavenly sensation wrought her senses to flee, and she lay back, welcoming him to do more, to take her if he wished, just so long as the delicious sensations coursing across her body right at that moment never ended.

  "You're so beautiful, Sarah." Giles breathed in the sweet-smelling scent of roses her skin always held. He would forever love the pretty, petaled flower for the reminder of her.

  His body roared with need, his cock hard and primed. Sarah's legs wrapped tightly about his waist as he rocked into her, sliding his cock against her cunny. Oh god, it felt good. Too good to stop even though they could be walked in on at any moment.

  He was a rutting bastard to tease her, in a stable no less, but he could not halt. Did not want to pause the delicious heat that coursed down his spine and threaded into his groin. His balls tightened, release all but imminent.

  Her fingers scored down his back through his greatcoat. Her little mewls of need told him he could make her come this way. The light flush on her cheeks and eyes heavy-lidded with passion were all he needed to know she was at the point of no return.

  Giles slowed his undulation against her, needing to drag out their interlude. She moaned, closing her eyes, and the sight of her enjoyment almost undid his control.

  "You approve, my darling?" he whispered against her ear, licking it for good measure and eliciting a gasp from her kissable lips.

  "Yes," she sighed, pushing against him and meeting his every stroke.

  He bit down on the inside of his mouth, stemming his release. He could not continue to tease for much longer, not unless he wanted to walk back into the house with a stain at the front of his pants.

  "You make me want so much, Sarah."

  "You make me need too," she said, her words a whispered sigh of delight.

  Giles reached down, lifting her leg higher on his hip. The urge to hoist up her gown, rip open his falls and fuck her, here in the stable, overwhelmed his senses. His control strained to a snapping point.

  The sound of men's voices sounded outside the stable walls. The thought of being caught in such a situation doused his desire like sand on hot coals, and Giles wrenched up off Sarah, pulling her to stand as he did so.

  Confusion clouded her sweet face, and he quickly checked her gown, removing the pieces of hay that he could see were stuck in her hair. She didn't help, merely stared at him, her eyes wide and heavy-lidded with unsated desire. He grinned, knowing he'd discombobulated her to the point of silence.

  Giles dragged them before one of the horse's stalls, putting space between them. He leaned over the door, making it seem as if they were discussing the horse stabled inside. The stable doors slid open and in walked three men, one of whom Giles recognized as the head stableman.

  "Good afternoon, my lord, Lady Sarah," Bruce, the eldest and most superior of the three, said, tipping his hat.

  "Good afternoon," Sarah said, stepping away from Giles and heading for the door. "I hope you enjoyed your afternoon with your families. Did they savor the hams we sent over?"

  Bruce pulled his cap off his head, holding it before him, a wide, genuine smile playing about his mouth. "It was most extravagant, my lady. We thank you and His Grace for your kindness."

  Giles watched as Sarah reached out, clasping the older man's arm in affection. "You are most welcome, and it was our pleasure."

  She left them then, and Giles remembered that he had come out for a ride, but no longer wanted to. Watching Lady Sarah saunter out of sight, he could not think of anyone he'd prefer to ride at this very moment other than her.

  He bid the workers a good afternoon and set out after her, determined to finish what they had started.

  Chapter 8

  Sarah did not make it very far into the house when she was dragged into the drawing room to have her likeness sketched by Lady Sebastian, who was renowned for her lifelike drawings of people using crayons.

  Molly came to sit beside her, chattering of the house party and their plans over the coming days. Her closest friends were seated about them, watching as Sarah had her likeness drawn, they too busy with ideas for the new duchess.

  Sarah absently listened as they gossiped and laughed about the past Season and the new one to come. What milestones their children had achieved and the Christmas Ball here at
the Abbey, which was coming up.

  None of the conversation points drew Sarah in. Nothing would, she was sure. After what she had experienced in the stables with Giles, she doubted she would ever be so again.

  Who knew that a man could create a riot of sensations throughout her body, make her want to throw away her well-behaved self and see what else Giles could make her feel?

  He was utterly a master at seduction, and she'd been only too ready for a tryst in the hay like some housemaid too free with her favors.

  Sarah glanced up and met the eyes of the Duchess of Carlisle. She schooled her features, not liking the knowing tilt of the duchess’s lips. Heat suffused her face. Why was Her Grace looking at her so? Did she know something about her venture with Giles only a short time ago?

  Impossible, and yet, something told Sarah Her Grace was more perceptive than the others and saw something different in her.

  "Oh my, Lady Sarah, the sketch is positively breathtaking. You look most beautiful and natural in this image," Marchioness Ryley said, standing behind Lady Sebastian as she continued to draw.

  Molly walked about the easel and took in the image, her attention snapping to Sarah, a contemplative look in her eye. Oh no, not her sister-in-law too!

  "Very interesting indeed. I think you shall like the likeness, Sarah," Molly said, smiling at her.

  Lady Sebastian set down the crayon she was using and surveyed her drawing with pride. "I think it captures Lady Sarah honestly." Her ladyship picked up the parchment, handing it to Sarah. "Here you are, my dear, you may do with this drawing as you wish."

  Sarah took the sketch and studied it, a croak of distress lodging in her throat at what she saw. Did she truly look to others as Lady Sebastian had expressed her?

  Her cheeks were flush with color, her hair not as pristine as some of the other ladies present, and why would it be after a romp in the hay? Her lips were a deep shade of pink, and swollen. She bit her lip, her body remembering the passionate embrace and wanting more. Her eyes held a faraway expression as if she were still in Lord Gordan's arms.