The Rebel

by C. J. Archer

  "I'll always be here for you." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but now that she had, her heart swelled to near bursting.

  He pulled away, and she could just make out the shine in his eyes as he peered back at her. "Always?"

  She took his face in her hands. "Yes," she whispered.

  The kiss was gentle but sure at first. There was none of the tentativeness of their first kiss, or the teasing. It was as if he didn't care if he did it wrong, he just let instinct take over. His lips were achingly soft, but his tongue was urgent, exploring, tasting and finally, ravaging. The kiss swamped her, brought every nerve to life and then set them alight.

  Nick brushed his hand through her hair and held her head in place. It was unnecessary. She wasn't going anywhere. All she wanted was to be in his arms, in his bed, with his skin against hers and all that hardness…

  She reached down, lightly brushing his bruised chest, down his flat stomach, reaching under the covers. She had to feel it. Just a feel. Nothing more.

  But when she wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft, and he groaned into her mouth, she knew she would do anything to have him. To claim him as her own.

  This man, this man, this man.

  So right. So perfect.

  He broke the kiss and rose onto his knees, drawing her up with him. He helped her remove the nightshift over her head then captured her in his arms once more and kissed her until she was nothing but a loose collection of bones inside hot skin.

  His hand rested on her hip and slowly, slowly moved up to her breast. He cupped it and thrummed the nipple with his thumb. She sucked air between her teeth. She may have even whimpered. She was too dazed to know what sounds she made.

  "Like that?" he asked.

  "Yesssss."

  "Tell me what else you like. I… I don't know what to do."

  It was almost laughable, but she did not even smile. The man knew more than any closeted eighteen year-old should. "Touch me. Everywhere."

  He removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth. His tongue circled her nipple and little sparks shot through her. Heat spread beneath her skin, pooling in her inner thighs where his hand now explored. He found her opening, dipped the tip of one finger in to the first knuckle. She bit her lip to stop herself crying out.

  He smiled around her breast. "You like that?"

  "Mmmmm."

  He pushed the finger in all the way, meeting no resistance. She thought he would be shocked, or perhaps horrified, but he said nothing. Perhaps he'd forgotten what virginal women were supposed to feel like.

  Then all thoughts fled when the heel of his palm rubbed her swollen, sensitive nub. She must have made a sound because he paused.

  "Don't stop." Her voice was husky, thick.

  She reached down between them and found his member once more. He jerked at the touch then groaned deep in his chest. His mouth left her breast, and he kissed her throat, her lips. The kiss turned hungry, devouring, desperate.

  A drop of moisture formed on the tip of his shaft. She rubbed it around the smooth head with her thumb. His body tensed against her, as taut as a lute string. "I want to enter you," he rasped.

  Somewhere, a kernel of sense remained. She cursed it for appearing now when it had not appeared with Edmund. It seemed cruel, but she couldn't push it away, no matter how hard she tried. "We shouldn't."

  He kissed her just beneath her ear. If he was trying to render her senseless, so she couldn't protest, he was going about it the right way. "Orlando didn't think I was wed," he said. "And nor do I."

  "It's not that."

  "It's all right, my little light. I won't empty into you. I can wait for that, although I might go mad in the meantime." His mouth was on hers again, and she felt his wicked, crooked smile against her lips. "But there are other things we can do together that I think you will enjoy."

  "I thought you said you didn't know how." She cupped his face and it may have been dark but she could make out the heat burning in his eyes well enough.

  "My memory seems to be returning. Or perhaps it's instinct."

  "Just how many lovers have you had?"

  "I can't remember." He thrust his finger inside her again and at the same time teased her nub with his thumb.

  She cried out and rode his hand, wanting that finger to drive in harder, all the way. His other hand snaked behind her lower back. She arched against it, thrusting her breasts up. He took one in his mouth, and she almost lost the last thread of self-control holding her together. She had never felt this before. Never felt the tightness in her belly and between her thighs, nor the intensity nor the odd sensation of her body winding up like a spring.

  She may not have experienced such feelings before, but her body seemed to have deep knowledge that knew what was coming. The anticipation was maddening. Thrilling.

  Not yet. Not yet. She wanted to take him over the edge with her.

  She reached between them and clasped his manhood. It was rigid as a pole, the head slippery with moisture. His body jerked as she pumped him.

  "Lucy," he murmured around her nipple. "My little light." His soft words shredded her last threads of self-control. The spring that had been steadily winding up inside her finally snapped. She exploded on his hand.

  Shocks rocked her. Waves of an intensely satisfying pleasure crashed through her, scattering pieces of her across the bed. And then they all came rushing back and slammed together as Nick pulsed in her hand. He tipped his head back and a low growl began in his throat. It grew louder, louder, and then he gave one final jerk and spurted his seed over her hand, her stomach.

  When the last drop fell and his last groan subsided, he sat back on his haunches and regarded her. At least, she suspected he was looking at her, although she couldn't see his expression.

  "What are you thinking?" she asked softly.

  He reached out and gently teased a strand of her hair. It had come free from its nighttime braid at some point. "I'm thinking how lucky I am to receive such a gift."

  "But I didn't give you anything." She had not given her body, not completely. Not the way she wanted to.

  "That's not how it felt from here." He climbed off the bed and padded over to the trunk near the window. He returned to the bed and wiped her clean with a cloth. "I hope I deserved that."

  What an odd thing to say. "Why wouldn't you?"

  He didn't answer immediately but set the cloth on the table. He lay down and lifted the covers for her to join him. She slipped in beside him, skin against skin, one leg resting on top of his. He tucked her into his side and kissed the top of her head. She thought he was thinking of an answer but after a moment, his body relaxed and his breathing became steady and deep. He was asleep.

  ***

  "Good morning, mistress," Matilda said when Lucy passed by the kitchen.

  "Hmmmm?" Lucy smiled at her. "Oh yes, good morning. It looks like another lovely day out. How is everybody today?"

  The cook looked up from her chopping board and cocked an eyebrow at one of the maids working opposite at the central kitchen table.

  Matilda narrowed her eyes. "We're all well, thank the lord. Yer in fine spirits this mornin', mistress. Had a good sleep, did ye?"

  "Yes," Lucy said and turned away before the maids could see her blush. "A very sound sleep. I'll be back in a moment with the eggs."

  Matilda followed her into the narrow passageway leading outside. "Mr. Coleclough's already up and about," she said. "He's talkin' to the master outside."

  "He's supposed to be resting." Lucy collected her egg basket and went out through the kitchen yard to the barn.

  Nick and Henry were deep in conversation as the two grooms prepared the horses for the day's work. A cluster of farm hands helped and more would be preparing equipment inside. It promised to be another full day of plowing.

  Brutus bounded out of the barn and jumped up and down at her feet until she bent and scratched his ears. He licked her face then returned to the barn where he sat between Nick and Henr
y, his wagging tail sweeping an arc in the dirt. She followed him and decided she would not look at Nick. Not even once. If she did, she would surely blush, and Henry would guess what they'd done.

  "Good morning," Nick said, a smile in his voice.

  "Good morning," she said, all politeness.

  Henry, leaning against the stable wall, nodded a greeting. She'd not thought it possible, but he looked even more exhausted than the day before.

  "Are you all right?" she asked him.

  He sighed. "Yes, just tired. I didn't sleep well."

  "Oh?" she squeaked. "Any reason for that?"

  "I thought I heard a noise, but it must have been the house creaking because I didn’t hear it again."

  "The house does creak in this weather. A lot."

  "And groan too," Nick said. He spoke with such sincerity that not even Lucy could detect any mischief.

  She stared at Henry. The harder she stared, the less chance she had of laughing or blushing.

  Fie! She blushed.

  Beside her, Nick cleared his throat. Henry, fortunately, didn't notice. He watched one of the grooms pull the plow out of the barn.

  "So," she said, swinging her basket on her arm, "what were you two talking about?"

  "Farming," Henry said. "You wouldn't be interested."

  "Yes, I am. It's our livelihood after all. I may not have shown much interest when I was younger, but now that I'm mistress, I want to share ideas and burdens with you."

  He grunted and kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot. "Very well, let me share my day with you. I rose before dawn, ate a hearty breakfast, and I'll spend the rest of the day standing in the sun, helping with the plowing. That's it. No, wait, there is more. After supper I'll try to read a book, but I doubt I'll get further than a page because the light will be poor, and I'll fall asleep anyway. There? Satisfied? Did you find that interesting, Sis?" He pushed off from the barn wall and stalked inside.

  Lucy bit her lip and watched him go. If they didn't have an audience, she would have gone after him and demanded he not speak to her so. Not that it would have done him any good, but it would have made her feel better, at least for a little while.

  "Don't be angry with him," Nick said.

  "He didn't have to snap at me. I really am interested in learning more about farming. If I'm to be mistress of Cowdrey Farm for some time, I want to help."

  His arm brushed hers and she looked up into those soothing eyes. "Your presence here alongside him is more than helpful. I think he's glad just to have your company. He didn't say so, but it's as clear as day."

  "Oh."

  "He was telling me how proud he is that you were accepted into the community of Sutton Grange so quickly and easily. Your brother adores you, Lucy. Of course, you're an easy person to adore."

  Her eyes widened, and she quickly checked to make sure no one was within earshot. "Stop it," she hissed.

  "Why?"

  "Because if Henry hears, he'll send you away." Her chest tightened at the bleak thought.

  He bent down to her level. Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Not if my intentions are honorable."

  Her heart came to a grinding halt. Her mouth fell open and she stared at him.

  "Breathe," he said, grinning.

  She did, but ended up gulping in air and coughing. He rubbed her back. "But… we've only known each other two days," she said weakly.

  "It feels much longer." His smile faded and his gaze grew serious. "I know you, Lucy Cowdrey, and you know me. Nothing else matters."

  "Your memories matter."

  He looked away. "Yes." His voice sounded strained through his clenched jaw.

  She wanted to touch him, make him look her in the eye, but she could not with so many people wandering about nearby. "Tell me what Orlando said, Nick. What does he know about you that bothers you so much?"

  He turned back to her, smiling once more, but she knew it was false. "It's nothing."

  "I don't think—"

  "Cowdrey!" he called over the top of her head. "Did you speak to your man?"

  Henry joined them again. He removed the wide straw hat he always wore in the fields and nodded at Nick. "Aye, and he likes your idea. He said he wanted to speak to the blacksmith for some time about a new coulter for the plow, but he was waiting for me to settle in as master here before he broached the subject. They're costly, so he said."

  "True, but pay for themselves in the long run."

  So Nick and Henry really had been discussing farming before she arrived. How odd. She'd not pegged Nick as the farming type, although he said his father had tenant farmers working Coleclough land. He must have learned some of the skill through them. Yet he'd implied that his father had kept him prisoner in Coleclough Hall, not letting him venture further than the immediate vicinity. Where had he learned about plows then?

  "What will you do today, Sis?" Henry asked her.

  "Take care of Nick."

  Henry sighed dramatically. "You have my sympathies, Coleclough."

  Lucy crossed her arms and glared at her brother. It was nice to see him in a teasing mood, but did he have to do it in front of Nick? It made her feel like a child again.

  "I don't need taking care of now," Nick said. "I feel much better. Why not do something for yourself today?"

  "Myself?"

  "Visit friends, go for a walk. Do whatever it is you like to do."

  "Why?" What she'd really wanted to say was 'But I want to spend time with you.'

  "I agree," Henry said. "You should see your friends. I know how important they are to you, especially Susanna Holt." He chucked her under the chin. "Enjoy your day, and I'll speak to you at supper." It was a great change from the angry retort of a few minutes ago, but that was Henry. Quick to flare up and quick to return to his even-tempered self. She supposed the unexpected kindness was his way of apologizing for his outburst.

  "I will," she said to Henry. He walked off and she turned on Nick. "You really don't want me here?"

  "I didn't say that." Brutus ran out of the barn and planted himself at Nick's booted feet. Nick bent down to pat him. "You deserve to spend some time doing the things you enjoy doing and not thinking about my needs."

  There was that word again. Deserve. "I like being with you, you fool."

  He smiled up at her. "Good, because I like being with you. Which is why I also want you to live your life as you usually would without worrying about me."

  "You think me not being here will stop me worrying about you?"

  He stood and Brutus whimpered. "Please, Lucy, I'd feel happier knowing you're not giving anything up to care for me. Go and visit Mistress Holt. I'm sure she must be bored senseless by now."

  "She has her husband for company."

  "Then she's probably desperate for good company." He took the basket from her and crooked his elbow. "After breakfast, take the cart and have the grooms escort you."

  "Escort me?"

  "The roads can be dangerous these days. You never know who you might meet."

  "I don't need an escort."

  He said nothing, but she got the feeling she'd just lost their first disagreement.

  ***

  Orlando stepped through the archway of the walled garden when Lucy's horse and cart rattled up the gravel drive of Stoneleigh. He rubbed the horse's nose as the cart came to a stop.

  "Glad to see you've got an escort today," he said to Lucy.

  She frowned. He was sounding remarkably like Nick. "Why?"

  He shrugged. "The roads can be treacherous."

  "So I hear."

  He returned to his gardening, and Lucy went inside where the maid led her to the main parlor. Susanna sat with her feet on a stool, rubbing her large belly and staring out the window. A single white cloud hung in the otherwise clear sky. It looked small and lost in the vast blueness.

  "I feel like an oliphant," she said, turning and smiling at Lucy.

  "Have you ever seen an oliphant?" Lucy asked, sitting on the
chair near her friend. Susanna was indeed large, although she'd seen larger.

  "No, but Orlando has and he says they're enormous. I made the mistake of telling him I feel like one and now he calls me Ollie." She rubbed her belly again, a wistful smile on her lips. Susanna always appeared so content. It was difficult to imagine that her life had been anything but easy.

  "When did Orlando see an oliphant?"

  The question seemed to take Susanna by surprise. Her hand stopped its swirling motion and she shrugged. The smile vanished. "He's traveled extensively."

  "Do you mean he saw one in the wild or at a fair?" Exotic creatures like monkeys and dancing bears weren't uncommon sights at the grander fairs, why not an oliphant too?

  Susanna shrugged. "I don't know."

  "But if it were in the wild, he must have traveled very far indeed, and to dangerous places." When Susanna didn't answer, Lucy prompted her with a, "Well?"

  The maid re-entered carrying a tray with two glasses. "Cider for you both," she said, handing the glasses to Lucy and Susanna.

  Susanna slowly sipped her cider. Very slowly.

  "Why are you avoiding the question?" Lucy asked after the maid left.

  Susanna lowered the cup. "Why are you so interested in where my husband has been? Not even I know the full extent of his travels."

  "I don't mean to pry. Actually, I do mean to pry. You see, Orlando knows my patient, Nicholas Coleclough, and I would like to know more about him. How did they meet? Where?"

  "He didn't tell you?" she asked, taking great interest in the contents of her cup.

  Lucy watched Susanna try to avoid answering. She wasn't very good at it, not like her husband. He was an expert. "Susanna." Lucy leaned forward and plucked the cup out of her friend's hands. "I know you know. Orlando tells you everything. Please, I must learn more about him."

  "Why? Why must you know what happened in Cole's past?"

  Lucy sat back, a little shocked by Susanna's vehemence. "I… I just want to understand what his life has been like up until this point."

  "You've become very close very quickly, so Orlando said. Can you not tell what he's like without knowing his past? Is it not enough that he and Orlando are friends? You know my husband is a good man. He wouldn't be friends with a blackguard."