by Tessa Candle
“My Lord, whatever is the matter?” Mr. Norwood inquired.
Aldley handed the paper over to Mr. Norwood, and Mrs. Norwood peered over her husband's shoulder. Lord Aldley settled into a sullen silence as they read.
After they had finished, Aldley took back the paper and folded it, as if to put matters back in order. “I suppose now you may both reconsider allowing your daughter to marry a man whose own middle-aged mother has no scruple but to throw her family into disgrace with an elopement.”
“Quite the contrary, my lord,” Mr. Norwood demurred. “I have read no news of an elopement—that is to say, the paper only reports that Lady Aldley has wed a respectable gentleman. In any case, our daughter's own situation must make your mother's wedding entirely moot.”
“I see your point, and I thank you for your kindly interpretation of these events, but excuse me if I am angered by the situation.” Aldley frowned.
He then did not scruple but to launch into an airing of his familial grievances. “I thought I was beyond ever again being astounded by my mother's unequalled hypocrisy. But after all her talk of appearances and stellar matches, she has eloped to Scotland with this Beauchamps character, whom I have met for all of five minutes on the eve of her elopement. I mean, if she wanted to marry the fellow, why not do things properly?”
“Perhaps she thought your lordship would oppose the match.” Mr. Norwood meant to be helpful.
“And if I did? She is not a fifteen year old maiden. She may legally marry whomever she wishes. She hardly needs to run off to Gretna Green.”
“Now, now, Aldley, we do not know that they went to Gretna Green. Perhaps they favour the fine old churches in Edinburgh.” Rutherford slapped Aldley on his good arm.
“Well, eloping to Gretna Green is sort of romantic, really.” Mrs. Norwood's voice was a little dreamy. “Perhaps neither of them ever had the chance to be young and irresponsible.”
“Perhaps. And I could wish them happy, if I knew for certain that my mother were a willing participant in the scheme.” Aldley found that it was true. He really could wish them happy, as bizarre as circumstances were, if it were a love match. Recent experience had taught him how impulsive love could make a person.
“You still think that she may have been forced into the marriage?” Rutherford looked sceptical.
“It is a possibility.” Aldley shrugged. “But I am now in doubt. I have been wondering how anyone could extract her against her will from her own home while she was hosting a rather grand ball. An elopement seems more likely. I shall write her a letter this afternoon to be certain.”
Aldley turned to the Norwoods. “But I cannot forget that your daughter has paid the price for their caprice.”
The pleasant distraction of this rant was soon followed by a more sombre mood. Aldley took a few moments to write to his mother and summoned a servant to post it. He was then startled out of his brooding by the emergence of Miss Ravelsham and her lady's maid.
“Well, my lord, Lydia is asking to see you.” Tilly smiled encouragingly.
“Thank God!” Aldley passed a hand over his face. “But how does she seem?”
“I think you will find she is a little altered, but as charming as ever.”
He swallowed. What if Lydia meant to refuse him? His nerves were already frayed and he did not think he could endure it. Aldley patted his neck cloth and stepped into Lydia's chamber.
Chapter 53
Lydia was sitting up in bed, supported by a cloud of pillows. Her beautiful hair was coiled back into a loose chignon, with a curl adorning each temple. She was dressed in a cream afternoon dress with mauve ribbons at the sleeves, which her mother had apparently brought.
She appeared less pallid than she had before, and her green eyes glistened with a new energy. His breath caught. Even in this weakened state, she was so beautiful. She had a little lace shawl around her shoulders, which she set aside, as she looked up at him.
“Lord Aldley—Thomas. Please come in and sit down. And lock the door, if you will. I believe we have some things to discuss, and I do not wish to be disturbed.”
He locked the door and moved a chair close to her bedside, pressing her hand. “Lydia, I cannot tell you how relieved I am to see you better. I have been so plagued by thoughts of our last conversation, by guilt that my pointless pursuit of my mother brought you to harm.”
“Please, do not trouble your mind about it. You could not have known that the carriage would overturn. We were not even travelling all that fast, as I recall.”
“Fast enough.” He grimaced. “To make matters worse, it appears my mother has actually eloped with the man, and was not abducted at all—although I shall have to wait for confirmation from her own account.”
“Eloped?” Lydia tried to repress a smile.
“Indeed, her lately married found its way into the London papers a couple of days ago. They have it that Sir Gerard Beauchamps is the lucky man.”
“Beauchamps! Really?” Her jaw dropped a little, then she recovered herself.
Aldley squinted at her. “You sound as though you know something about this.”
“It was a piece of gossip I had heard some time ago. I had almost forgotten about it.”
He stiffened. “Well, please do not hold back with me. I should greatly prefer not to be in the dark about my own mother.”
“I do not consider it such a great scandal, but apparently the two are not strangers. Mr. Beauchamps was a cousin of your mother's girlhood friend—when she lived in Warwickshire. They fell in love, but your grandparents opposed the match, as at the time he had little fortune and no title.” She paused.
“I can see you are concealing something, please do not feel the need for delicacy.”
“Well, one hears that she was either abducted or they attempted an elopement—recent events would suggest the latter. Her father caught up with them, removed her to London and covered the whole mess up. After a year in London your mother was safely married to your father. I suppose it should be shocking. I am sure it is an uncomfortable piece of family history for you, but I admit, I think it is a little romantic that they have found each other again, after all these years.”
“I suppose it is.” Aldley sighed in resignation. “And I suppose it might also explain their choosing to marry in Scotland.”
“Making good on their first attempt at marriage? It is rather sweet, really.” Lydia privately thought it was also a little silly, but nothing to get upset about.
“You can say that, when the timing of their folly has cost you such an injury?” Aldley could not believe it.
“It was a strange set of circumstances that led up to that accident.” Lydia shrugged. “I cannot blame it entirely on your mother's wedding plans.”
“You are more forgiving than I.” Aldley was relieved.
“I doubt that, but recent events have made me realize how important it is to focus on the things that matter and let go of pointless aggravations.” Her smile was tranquil, but he thought he saw some more smouldering feeling register in her look.
“Indeed.” He swallowed. “Just so. In fact your wisdom brings me right to the point. I should have told you this long since, and let all the other distractions go to the devil, but I shall tell you now.”
He kissed her hand, then looked deep into her eyes. “I love you. I do not deserve you after all my idiocy, but you see before you a man who will come undone if you do not elevate him to the elysian fields by consenting to his proposal. Will you please, please marry me, you maddening, beautiful creature.” Aldley's blue eyes willed her to agree.
Lydia's heart was stirred as well as her body. She remained silent, but continued to stare into his eyes as she stroked his hand, letting her finger tips travel up his arm to the cubital fossa, where she tickled his delicate skin with tiny butterfly strokes.
He gasped slightly and straightened his cravat with the other hand. “God, you do not know what you do to me. Dearest, please tell me you will be mine. I want
to marry you as soon as may be. I love you so.”
She put a finger to her lips. “Shhhhh. Then she played with her lower lip a little, before leaning in toward him slowly and pressing her lips against his surprised, but ready mouth.
He was overcome for a moment and shifted himself onto the bed, so that he could grab her waist as he kissed her firmly.
When he came up for air, she pulled him back again, prodding his mouth gently with her tongue. He answered by pushing his tongue into her mouth, caressing her own.
His body responded, and they were both aware of it. Soon he was lying beside her, pulling her hair loose from its coil, running his fingers though it, kissing the exposed skin around her delicate collarbones.
“You know,” she whispered, “I think this dress is a little too tight for an invalid. Perhaps you could loosen it a little.”
“Are you sure you would like me to do that, dearest?” He was panting lightly, his voice a bare growl.
“Yes, please.”
His hands flew to the cords. When he had sufficiently loosened them, she stretched her torso upwards, so that the top of the gown slid down. “Oh.” She assumed a surprised facial expression.
Only her chemise stood between him and her breasts. He could see her pink nipples through the translucent silk. And she could see his erection, which would not be suppressed by the fine cloth of his pantaloons.
“You are killing me, my darling,” he groaned.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want all of you.”
“You want these?” She traced her fingers around the edges of her rosebud nipples and their hardening was visible.
“Oh yes.”
She let her hand pull the material slightly down, as if by accident. Her left breast was fully exposed.
“Mmm.” He pulled the other side down and was upon them in a moment, kissing, teasing, licking.
She moaned quietly. “Oh yes. More.”
He continued his attentions, until he had to stop himself. He sat up, swallowed, and said “My angel, I am yours, you have my heart. But this is pure torture.”
“What can I do?” Her voice was barely audible.
“I—I cannot ask it of you.”
“I hate to see you suffer.”
“I want you naked under me.”
She gestured at her very loose dress. “You want to take this off?”
“Oh yes, I do. But I should not.” He let out his breath in a huff of frustration and ran his fingers through his hair.
She reached out and gently pushed his hair back in place, stroking his ear before letting her hand fall back to her lap. Her voice was the faintest of whispers. “You know, I am having such strange feelings.” She traced her fingers over her pubis. “Down here. Is that normal? What should I do?”
“God help me.” He lifted her as though she were a feather, pulled off her dress, and then more gently lifted her chemise over her head and threw it aside.
He sat for a moment and stared at her naked body, then traced her line of symmetry with his fingertips. Her nipples were flushed and erect.
“You are so beautiful.” He was beside her on the bed again, kissing her naked skin, touching her gently between her thighs. “Here?”
“Oh yes. And further up. It is very wet. Is there something wrong?”
“Oh no,” he said, finding the right spot with his finger, and suppressing her little squeal with a kiss. “Everything is very right. Oh, you are so wondefully wet.” He stroked her randomly a few times, then settled into a rhythm, following the undulations of her body. “Do you like this, darling?”
She nodded, speechless and gasping.
“God how I love you.” He kissed her deeply, then sat back to focus on the task of playing with her.
“That feels so amazing. What else do you want to do?” She reached a hand down and grazed his massive erection, as if unintentionally “Maybe you should take these off.”
He responded by moving down to position his head over her warm mound and redoubled his efforts using his tongue, relentlessly teasing her, until he could feel how close she was, and then he came up. “I think you are not quite ready for that, my love.”
“You have seen me. Do you not wish to show yourself to me?”
“I want more than that,” he growled.
Her eyes were wide. “Then show me. Give me more.”
“You are maddening, but I do not want to hurt you. Besides your parents are in the next room—and we are not married.”
“I shall be quiet. Just satisfy my curiosity.”
He took off his clothing. His chest rippled with muscles, and his manhood was protruding. It was very large now. It seemed to strain at her and pulse. He lay down by her again, and she touched him.
“It is marvellous. What should I do?” She petted it lightly, and it responded by growing harder still.
“That is nice, would you like to feel it, down here?” He stroked her a few times with his finger.
“Yes.”
He complied, moving his member around to stroke her as he had done with his tongue and finger. She moaned quietly.
“More?”
“Oh yes.”
He did it a little faster, and then dipped the very tip of his manhood down a little further, just to the entryway, and pushed it in ever so slightly. She knew instinctively what she wanted.
He moved it back and continued massaging her with it, dipping it back into her chasm on every forth beat, gradually getting a little bit deeper, a little faster, then dipping it in every third stroke, but never going all the way.
She could feel herself getting closer and closer, until finally she grabbed his hips and pulled him inside of her, almost screaming as she convulsed with pleasure. That is what she wanted, him inside of her, and more. She wanted more. She wanted him to feel as she did.
Waves of pleasure continued to course through her, as he plunged into her faster and faster and then stiffened suddenly. She could feel a warmth spreading into her, and his member was spasming as he gasped and kissed her. “Oh, my angel. Oh God yes! I love you.”
They lay together silently for a few moments, kissing and stroking each other's skin, holding onto one another. When he finally slid himself out of her, his member was already swelling again.
“I should feel sorry for what I have just done,” Aldley whispered, kissing her forehead. “But I do not. I love you so, and I cannot but treasure it. You are so beautiful, so enticing and fascinating. You are my everything.”
“That was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.” Lydia sighed happily. “I do not feel sorry in the least. Do it to me again, please.”
He laughed. “I suppose that means I did not hurt you. I was worried. I am told it is often painful the first time.”
She looked at him a little mischievously. “You were very gentle.” Then she laughed. “Or perhaps it was all that riding astride instead of using a side saddle, as the old matrons always harped about. Had I known how much pleasure I should get from riding you, I believe I should have started sooner. Let us do it again.”
He laughed. “You will be the death of me, I can tell. Shall I take that as a yes?”
“Yes what?”
“You are maddening! Yes, Thomas Aldley, I love you. I shall marry you and make a respectable earl out of you.”
She thought for a moment and smiled. “You may take it as a maybe."
His jaw dropped in disbelief.
“But I do love you, Thomas Aldley.”
Chapter 54
Rutherford reclined in his bedchamber at the inn and coiled a curl of Tilly's hair around his finger, admiring the multitude of nuances within its golden tone. She sat up and straightened the rumpled sheets of his bed.
“So will you marry me now, Miss Ravelsham?” He kissed her shoulder.
“No. Please consult the minutes of our previous meeting.”
“You are as maddeningly inscrutable as your hair colour.” He flopped back on
to the pillow.
“I am blonde.”
“Only superficially.” He stared admiringly at her. “There are so many brilliant little hues strewn like gems beneath the surface of that gold.”
“You are very poetic.” She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “But you make me out to be more complex than I am. I believe I have been as direct, plain and unambiguous as is possible. If you refuse to take me at my word, it is at your own peril.”
“Your words say one thing but your touch, your kiss, your body all say quite another.”
She lifted her chin and gave him a pert little smile. “I shall not be made responsible for your wilful misinterpretation of my physiological interest in you. Though I like you a great deal, it is, as I have explicitly told you, purely carnal.”
“Oh yes.” He pulled her back to him and kissed her deeply. “You have been very explicit, indeed. It is one of your many, many charms.”
“Before we get too carried away, I believe the family Norwood and your earl-friend will be returning soon enough. We must make ourselves presentable.” She stood up to escape his advances.
“We should not be forced to steal moments if you would just marry me.”
“Tedious man. Speaking of which, I understand our mutual friend has not yet accepted Lord Aldley. How is he taking it?”
“The two of you seem bent on toying with your true loves' hearts.”
Tilly rolled her eyes and began re-pinning her hair.
Rutherford straightened his pout into a more manly expression. “Well, at least she has not refused him outright. She bears that much dissimilarity to her cruel, cruel friend. However, Aldley is smarting, I can tell. He tries to put a brave face upon it, but I know he was hoping for a better answer than maybe. I can see his disappointment—but I myself only dream of someday getting a maybe, so I cannot feel entirely sorry for the fellow. Still, I hope this has not been the product of your influence.”
Tilly scoffed. “I have not told her outright that she should accept him, but I believe I have been, at least, encouraging. She has been through a great deal, you know. I think it is wiser for her to take a little time to make such an important decision, although it is clear that she adores him.”
