Safe in the Earl's Arms

by Liz Tyner

  Warrington heard each word and they went into his heart. They were true.

  He went after Jacob, brushed by Melina, and he could hear Cassandra’s laughter.

  But he was not keeping the girl. He’d already given her away. He had told them he would send a carriage for them on the next day.

  *

  Melina heard the steps in the hallway and knew Warrington was in his room. She sat in the blackness, feeling no need for light. Warrington had left after talking to Jacob and not returned until night.

  The dark walls suited her well and one face kept floating through her mind. Warrington. Every servant in the house slept, but she doubted he did. And she needed one last moment with him. She wanted to hear his voice. To feel his scent cover her, and the skin that remained hidden from all the world to be hers to savour.

  She stood, wearing her chemise, and crept to his bedchamber, standing. He opened the door after she called out, but kept his eyes on a miniature, examining it. He turned the painting so she could see it.

  ‘My father—he lived for my mother.’ His voice barely reached her ears. ‘If one of his boys displeased her, he would not hear of it. We could have stolen from the church and he would have not been so angry as he would have been from an irritation to my mother. And rightly so. If she had a fault, it was in loving us to distraction.’

  He brought the miniature back into his view and put his arm around her, hand at her waist. Her heart beat faster and she felt like a part of him. She let her cheek rest against his clothing. In those seconds, she changed. When he breathed, she felt the movements inside herself. But also, she could feel his restraint. He was not to be hers.

  ‘And yet,’ Warrington continued, ‘almost the first woman he saw after the funeral, he began to court, thinking it a secret. Less than a month after my mother’s death, he told me he would be married as soon as the proper mourning ended. He was bouncing in his boots. He was so happy and could not keep the news to himself.’ Warrington moved the picture to his side. ‘I vowed…’

  Warrington tossed the miniature to a chair. He expelled a breath. ‘Yet I lost my father because I was no different than he.’

  She touched the softness of his shirt at his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath.

  ‘I never told my father, not once, how I hated the moment he told me he would remarry. Instead I told Dane and we moved to the town house so we would not have to see the blissful courtship. I didn’t move back until I wed. Whitegate is large, yet it wasn’t big enough for everyone. I’m tired of living in my memories, Melina. They are getting old and worn, and making me feel the same. Like leather rained on and then baked in the sun.’

  ‘I don’t think you can simply close them off.’

  ‘I know I have done the right thing with the girl and I will make it up to Jacob, somehow.’

  ‘Don’t think about it. Now it’s done.’ She pulled him close.

  He squeezed her. ‘You feel… You feel like…’ He paused, swaying her on her feet. ‘I can’t think what you feel like exactly, but it warms up old leather nicely. Gives it new life.’

  She let herself melt into his body and his scent—fresh gardens and the brush of strength. She wanted to be able to close her eyes and slide into the memories of his arms long after she left. And secretly, she hoped there would be a child. She would let Warrington know—after a while. After her heart did not ache so.

  She shut her eyes, imagining her own sisters who’d lost their mother and been willingly deserted by their father. ‘I think of my family. The ones gone and the ones left. And I can’t leave them, either. My promise to my mother…’

  He leaned in, wrapping her in his arms, and when he spoke, his voice was at her ear. ‘I’ve thought of nothing but family all day and you dream of yours. Let us take a walk from them and leave them for a moment. They will still be there for us when we return.’

  Melina knew she would like nothing better and to be held by Warrington soothed her completely.

  ‘Let me pleasure you.’ He touched a tendril of her hair, brushing it back, but his finger returned to linger on her skin.

  She looked up and desire stirred in every part of her just from being in his arms. She yearned for the touch of his lips against hers. She pulled back enough so she could tiptoe up, pressing her mouth to his, and feel the strength of his response.

  He took her mouth with the same ferocity of needing one kiss to stay alive. One kiss to have another heartbeat.

  She no longer stood on her own feet. Warrington held her, his fingers splayed against her back, keeping her aloft.

  He moved, or she did, and that merest movement of their bodies, constrained by clothing, and yet freed to feel every whisper of touch, tumbled her into a world where passions conquered all concerns.

  He pulled back and she opened her eyes. She’d never seen the expression on his face before. It was too strong for her to take in and too deep to turn from. He picked her up and deposited her gently on the bed.

  Warrington pulled his clothes from his body, shedding them with no care for where they landed, but when he lay beside her, he undid the chemise ties, unwrapping her with the care of touching a wisp he didn’t want the breeze to blow away.

  She felt rich, pampered, treasured—valuable as marble carved by a hand guided from the heart of the greatest craftsman.

  ‘Melina,’ he whispered and said nothing else. No question or words. Just spoke her name.

  And the sound of it from his lips filled her the same as an outpouring of love.

  When he lay beside her, she ran her hands down his body and up again, trying to memorise every surface. Trying to soak in each fibre of him. Wanting to hold the feelings within herself for ever.

  He touched her hip and their eyes were close enough to see in the darkness. He bent his head to her neck and his hair grazed against her, the scent of his skin lingering with the locks. Pressing her to her back, he lay beside her and pulled her against his body. He burrowed his lips into the hollow of her neck, his teeth brushing her skin, and his fingertips marked her heart, and all of her.

  When he trailed his fingers down her stomach, reaching into the gentle slope, pressing her soft curls, touching the folds, finding the peak, she couldn’t think any more. She gasped, lost in the swirls, the pulses of his touch, and she couldn’t regain herself until he completed the feelings for her.

  She felt him, holding their bodies close, moving them together, in a rhythm of lovemaking, while his hands caressed her, bringing her to the height of her passion again, crashing them together and taking all the power from her body. She relished all the sensations of him.

  This would be their last night together.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Melina sat on the floor, dodging the edges of Willa’s fan as the little one worked to keep Melina’s face cool. They’d just finished breaking their fast and Melina hadn’t seen Warrington since she’d left his bed at dawn.

  ‘Melina.’ Warrington’s shout from outside the children’s bedchamber penetrated the oak door.

  ‘Oh, Little One…’ Melina exaggerated her facial expression ‘…it appears someone is in very serious trouble. Warrington sounds very, very angry.’

  Willa laughed.

  The door burst open and Warrington plunged into the room, holding a letter. ‘The Sinclairs are not taking her.’

  Melina looked up. ‘They are not?’ She pulled Willa into her arms. ‘That is terrible.’

  He threw the letter from his hand. The paper fluttered down. ‘They wish for her to stay with her mother.’

  She brushed her hand over the baby-fine hair and pressed a kiss to Willa’s head. ‘They must be mistaken. If they are addled, it is best for Willa not to be with them.’

  ‘They received a letter, amazingly with mine. And they sent it to me along with their change of heart. The missive is from a woman they believe is Willa’s mother asking them to not take her one and only precious little girl. The only baby she might ever have. That
this woman wants her and needs to keep her. She loves Willa. The letter made them think I was forcing her—you—to give the child away.’ He paused. ‘Blast it, Melina. No one would be better for her than the Sinclairs. They are a good family. You should not have meddled.’ He stood over her. ‘And stop hiding behind the child.’

  ‘I am not. We were playing.’ Melina let Willa move to the floor.

  ‘You were playing. With the child’s life. You are not her mother and you should not have written to the Sinclairs. You have no right to do such.’ He took a deep breath. ‘She could have had two loving parents.’

  ‘She has two loving parents.’ She stood. ‘Me. And Broomer…’

  ‘What in blazes…?’ His voice hurt her ears and he looked as if he had just spit vinegar. Willa’s lips trembled.

  ‘Skase. You’ll frighten her.’ She gave the baby a quick hug.

  ‘I should be scaring you.’ He lowered his tone and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. ‘What do you mean, Broomer and you?’ He leaned his head forward as if he could not hear correctly.

  ‘He and I have discussed it. He would like to be a father and feels he might never get another chance. I already love her. We do not want to part with her and we both agree that two parents would be best. He is going back to Melos with me—and he will stay. He will keep me safe from Stephanos and be a kind father for Willa. And she will have my sisters for aunts.’

  ‘I forbid it.’

  ‘You cannot stop us.’

  ‘You cannot take Willa without my permission. She is my legal daughter. And Broomer is my servant.’

  Melina looked at the window, then turned her gaze to Warrington. ‘I would not say Broomer is your servant. He has left. He has agreed to work for me, at no cost, because you were tossing aside a dear child. Broomer and I want her. If you choose anything otherwise…’ her voice rose ‘…then you are a beast. You are less than a man. You are worse than Stephanos. You are worse than Ludgate.’ Her fingers fisted. ‘You must do the right thing and give her to us. Broomer and I will live on the dowry money. And you do not have to send us a single pence.’

  His brows furrowed. ‘Are you planning to wed him?’

  ‘We have no notion of it, but the people on Melos will readily assume he is my husband, and it would be best if Stephanos thinks I am married.’

  He took a step back. ‘You are completely daft. And so was I. I trusted you and Broomer and you both made plans behind my back.’

  ‘Yes. You are fortunate to have two such caring people in your life. Or, should I say, to have had two such caring people in your life.’

  ‘I cannot believe you would do this. Again, a woman misled me.’ He glowered. ‘And I will not let you take the Ascalon back to Melos.’

  ‘I have already had Broomer make arrangements with Captain Ben. On the ship. Your brother said he will have no trouble sailing Ascalon to the island, as you have already given the command, and he knows it is what you meant. And you might have trouble finding him to give him any changes, as Gidley is not to let you on board. Gidley has to do as his captain commands. He does not believe in mutiny.’

  ‘I own that ship,’ his voice thundered.

  ‘Only half. And Captain Ben thinks if he sails his half, your half will follow without argument. He said it is odd how ships work that way.’

  ‘You did— You led them all—’ He held out a palm, shaking it in the air. ‘You are as conniving as Cassandra. I want no part of you.’

  She stood. ‘Willa’s things are already on board the ship, as are mine and Broomer’s. I was just waiting to tell you. And…’ she picked up Willa, holding her tight ‘…I am keeping those hideous dresses. And your pillows. I quite like them and they will make her a soft bed on the ship.’ She stopped at the door and turned back. ‘And the milled lilac soap. You should probably alert your housekeeper that you are running quite low on it.’ She sniffed at Willa’s hair. ‘It makes her smell so precious.’

  She waited a moment before speaking again, her words firm. ‘Jacob needs you. He will need you especially now. The governess and a footman have taken him on a walk to keep him from seeing us leave. I told them it might happen.’

  Then she left and gave Willa a tight hug, hefting her close. They would manage. They would make a wonderful family on Melos. And Warrington could live in London with his dead wife the rest of his life.

  She walked downstairs to the hackney waiting across the street and did not turn back.

  *

  Warrington did not move. He couldn’t. Women were traitorous wretches who did whatever they damn well pleased and could steal a child without blinking a lash. She’d stolen his daughter—the child—Willa. She’d taken her. Just walked right out.

  Melina was gone. She was leaving the country, and she could get on that ship—that floating acorn—and sail to the end of the world. He would give Ben his blessing to take her. He would even send more pillows.

  He opened his mouth. Broomer. She even took Broomer. He—Broomer—another scheming wretch.

  He didn’t care if the man was bigger than a house, he was going to get throttled. And soon. Warrington rushed from the room.

  ‘Papa…’ Jacob’s voice, hesitant. He stood directly in his father’s path.

  Warrington stumbled into Jacob. He reached out, catching the little boy, stopping his own momentum.

  He righted them both, still holding his son.

  ‘Are you leaving again?’ Jacob asked, speaking no louder than a whisper. ‘I heard you shouting when we came back. And Willa’s gone… I saw the carriage.’

  Warrington stepped back against the wall and his hands loosened. His whole body slackened. He slid to the floor and looked at his child. ‘No. I’m not. I’m not leaving you. Ever again. You’re my son.’ He gathered Jacob into his arms. ‘My life.’

  He waited, calming himself. ‘Now tell me what you’d like to do today and we’ll see how much we can manage.’

  ‘You’re staying with me?’

  ‘Yes. I’m staying. I can’t leave my Jacob.’

  Jacob relaxed against him. ‘I have a bow and arrow at Whitegate. I could show you how to shoot it.’

  ‘That sounds like a good plan. I think I might have one somewhere, too. Perhaps we can have a competition after you teach me how.’

  Jacob’s head nodded at Warrington’s chest. War let his arms rest loosely around his son and stared forward.

  ‘Can we go, Papa? I like Whitegate better than here.’

  ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I’m ready to return home.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The town coach rolled to a stop, and Jacob bounced from his father’s knees, but Warrington kept a tight grip on the boy’s coat. There had simply not been enough room in the carriage for Jacob to sit anywhere else.

  Keeping Jacob in his grasp, Warrington stepped on to the docks and saw the Ascalon. Someone had already noted his carriage, he could tell. Two men were moving forward, standing, blocking the way on to the ship.

  He easily recognised Broomer, and the other, Gidley. They stood side by side, arms crossed.

  Striding up to them, he stopped, looked up at Broomer, and said. ‘You’re discharged without references.’ He stared at Gid. ‘You, as well.’

  ‘Well, yer got a point,’ Gidley said. ‘We, fortunately, work for other folks. I hear Mr Broomer has a lady he answers to.’

  Broomer’s eyes dropped when he spoke to Warrington and his lips trembled. ‘I’m asking your forgiveness. But I had no choice.’

  ‘No choice?’ Warrington’s words flew from his throat. ‘No choice?’

  ‘You’d have done the same thing. A little girl. That sweet woman needing a baby.’

  ‘No,’ Warrington snapped. He could not say another word.

  ‘We’re here to see my sister.’ Jacob’s voice broke the stillness.

  Broomer took a deep sniff and looked at the boy. ‘My pardon, Little Lordship, but we’re to say she�
��s not at home.’

  Warrington nodded. He turned to the town coach, put two fingers to his lips and whistled.

  Three men tumbled out and one of the coachmen jumped from the front. Each held a club. They scrambled up behind Warrington.

  ‘We were at a tavern.’ Jacob’s voice rose in excitement. ‘Papa gave the men sticks, and silver, and he told them they could change the silver for gold if they helped us walk on the ship. We can walk on the ship, can’t we, Broomer? I want to see Uncle Ben’s ship.’ His voice lowered. ‘Papa didn’t give me gold, but he said if I did everything he asked, I could have a sea biscuit.’ He rubbed his stomach. ‘I would like that.’

  Broomer looked at the men. ‘Jack. Mutton. Wilton. Theodoure.’ He nodded to them. They grinned back.

  ‘Your sister…’ Warrington stared at Broomer ‘…told us where we might find your friends when I explained how they were needed.’

  ‘You’ll have to kill me to get to the lady and that little angel,’ Broomer said. ‘You can’t take ’em.’

  ‘I will not.’ He kept his eyes on Broomer and Gidley. ‘You have my word, in front of my son, that I will not take her.’

  ‘Papa. I thought you said we—’

  ‘Quiet, Jacob.’ He clamped his hand on his son’s shoulder. Warrington continued, ‘Unless Melina is completely happy to leave.’

  The giant of a man ambled back, freeing space for them to come aboard. ‘I suppose.’

  Warrington stared at the first mate. ‘And since you have time left from your guarding duties, Gidley, show my son how a ship works and keep him alive while doing so.’ The earl turned to Broomer. ‘And if you could take Willa, and keep her with her brother for a moment, I will refrain from telling the men about that particularly warm night in July when—’