Unwrapping a Rogue: A Christmas Regency Boxset

by Samantha Holt

  “Oooooh! Edward... That was...”

  “Just the beginning.”

  Olivia laughed in delight. It seemed that she had unleashed something in him – something she was discovering to be more wonderful than she could ever have imagined. He moved above her, his fingers still gently working amongst the damp curls of her most intimate place. Then he removed them, and she made a small sound of protest – until they were replaced by his cock, harder, larger, than she remembered such things to be – and quite the best thing that she had ever felt in her life.

  Slowly, he thrust into her, and helpless to stop herself, she moved in time with his thrusts. That maddening pressure built in her again, and she reached for him, her hands caressing his back, his buttocks, pulling him against her, deeper, harder, with each stroke. They exploded together, swallowing each other’s cries in a kiss.

  When she came back to herself, Olivia was curled against him, his arms cradling her. She tilted her head back, and met his eyes. They were filled with the same wonder that she felt.

  “Edward...”

  “Olivia...”

  They both spoke at once, then stopped, laughing.

  “Edward, that was wonderful. I did not know... it was never like that before. You are a remarkable man.”

  “And you are a remarkable woman. For I echo your sentiments, it was never like that before.”

  “If you thought yourself a failure at this.... You can most definitely change your mind!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day, the carriage rolled through countryside dusted with a delicate frosting of snow, sparkling under a pale winter sun. It seemed magical to both of them. Edward sat, staring out the window, Olivia cradled against his side. She was half asleep, still tired after their exertions of the night before, which had continued for quite some time.

  He smiled to think of it. She was right, he was a very different man now than he had been when he had wed Sarina. And much of that difference was due to Olivia’s influence. She had given him the confidence to allow himself to stop hiding. She had given him the greatest gift possible – she had seen him as a man – a desirable man. And she had acted on that perception.

  Perhaps, just perhaps, what had happened with Sarina had not been entirely his fault. Now, he could begin to believe that possible.

  Shortly after midday, they rolled into a picturesque village, where a small sign hung by the roadside, announcing it to be Winterwood Downs. Gently, he shook Olivia’s shoulder.

  “We have arrived in Winterwood Downs. Now to find Marigold Cottage.”

  Olivia sat up, put her hair to rights, and peered out the window. The carriage rolled to a stop in the town square, and the coachman called out to a boy who stood watching them, asking for directions. Upon being told that Marigold Cottage was the last on the left along Rosewood Lane, which the boy pointed out, the coachman thanked him, tossed him a small coin, and got them moving again.

  A few minutes later, they drew to a halt before a quite large cottage, with a huge ancient tree beside it, and a garden in front of it, where the last of the winter roses were still to be seen on the tangle of rose canes along the fence. A boy, of indeterminate age, somewhere older than eight and younger than fifteen, peered at them from behind the tree as they descended from the carriage. Edward barely noticed him, so intent was he upon the cottage.

  Olivia looked at the boy for longer, her brow slightly furrowed, as if there was something about the boy that disturbed her. Then she turned and followed Edward to the door. He knocked, and they waited, as slow footsteps sounded from inside. Finally, the door opened.

  “Mrs Bentick?”

  “Yes, that’s me. Who might you be?”

  The old woman’s eyes were bright, still sharp.

  “Umm, I am Edward Greenidge. You sent me a letter, I believe. And this is Lady Hemsbridge, who has accompanied me.”

  Mrs Bentick eyed them consideringly, and apparently decided that they were acceptable, for she stepped aside and waved them in.

  “Come in. Thank you for coming, and for doing so fast. I am afraid that my health is poorer every year. I could delay this no longer, with the cold of winter setting in.” She led them to a parlour, and they sat. “Bide a moment, and I’ll have Millie make some tea for us. She’s the baker’s daughter – comes in a for an hour or two a day to help me.”

  So saying, she left the room, her movements suggesting that her back troubled her. Edward looked around the room. It was a masterpiece of faded gentility, with immaculate but worn drapes, paintings of extreme age and old-fashioned style, and a scatter of ornaments on the mantel. Some of which he recognised – they had been Sarina’s. Oddly, in one corner, there lay a pile of toys, the sort of thing that an older child might play with. He wondered if they were keepsakes of Mrs Bentick’s time as a nanny.

  Soon, she returned, and eased herself into a chair opposite them. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Edward felt compelled to break it.

  “Mrs Bentick, in your er, letter you spoke rather mysteriously of old secrets, and something that was er, rightfully mine. I must admit, I am deeply curious.”

  At that moment the tea arrived, and they paused the conversation until Millie was gone from the room.

  Once the tea had been poured and passed to them, Mrs Bentick settled back in her chair.

  “Well sir, I don’t rightly know where to start, or how to tell you all of this. You’re not what I expected, not at all. The way that Sarina described you... well, it wasn’t very nice, is all I’ll say.”

  Edward winced a little, but nodded.

  “I am not er, surprised. I fear that I was not, back then, a man who er, knew how to be what she needed.”

  Mrs Bentick nodded in turn, but she watched Olivia, assessing. Olivia met her gaze calmly.

  “Well then, you’re wiser than most, if you’ve realised that. Which reassures me that I’m doing the right thing. When she came to me, the poor thing, she was so very ill, and so miserable. Said her father had ruined her life by getting her to marry you. Said a lot more, but I allowed that half of it might simply be a young girl’s disappointment that the man she married turned out not to be perfect. She got a little better, but the illness never really left her. The cough persisted, and in the end, it took her life, as you know. What you don’t know, is that she was weaker than might have been expected, for another reason entirely.”

  Edward looked at the old woman, puzzled – what did she mean?

  “Another reason?”

  ‘Yes. She was increasing. A month or two on when she came to me, as close as we could tell.”

  The world spun around him.

  “I... I... increasing?”

  “Yes. She delivered the babe successfully, but it took the last of her strength. She lasted a month or two more, fed the babe so he grew and was healthy, but she faded away. I had told everyone in the village that she was my cousin’s niece, come to live with me because her husband had died. No one questioned it, nor did they question that I kept the babe and raised him. Only the vicar knew the truth, for that was recorded in the parish register at his birth. I thought of telling you then, but the picture she had painted of you, in my mind – I did not judge you a suitable man to raise a child. I’m sorry if that distresses you, but it’s the truth.”

  “I cannot er, fault you. You did not know me, and then, you er, were most likely right. But... a boy? I have a son?”

  He heard the wonder in his own voice. The idea seemed so far fetched as to be impossible, yet the old woman was serious.

  “Yes. His name is Pierce. He is bright, curious, more intelligent than most. More than Sarina, I’ll say. Now I see you, I have no doubt he’s yours. He looks like you. And, now I see you, I think I was wrong to keep him from you for so long. I took Sarina’s word, but now – perhaps I was wrong, perhaps she was just a disappointed girl, and your failings were not the end of it. For you did not love her – but she did not love you. There was barely any liking bet
ween you, from what I heard. So... I think now, that you were no worse than she was, for I doubt she tried to make things work, any more than you managed to.”

  “I... thank you, I think.”

  Mrs Bentick laughed at his words.

  “There’s a few keepsakes of Sarina’s, if you want them, and a letter she wrote for you, at the end. But what I really wanted to give you was the boy. I’d not have him never know his heritage, not have him suffer when I die – and die I will, soon, I feel it in my bones. Likely, he’s lurking about in the kitchen by now, wanting to know who you are. But before that, tell me something about you, about your life now – I’d know what you can offer him.”

  Edward laughed – a slightly bitter edged self-mockery.

  “Mrs Bentick, if you’d er, asked me that three months ago, you’d have received a very different answer. I think you’ll like what I tell you today er, far better than what you would have heard then. When I married Sarina, I was an unimportant third son, a scholar with no er, particular prospects. But as of a few months ago, and the sad demise of my brother in a carriage accident, I am now er, er, Viscount Camberton. I also hold a position with the er, Royal College of Arms, and have friends in various high places as a result. I never married again, although recently, my desires in that direction have er, changed. In fact, at the very moment that your letter reached me in London, I was about to propose er, er, marriage to the lady who sits beside me now.”

  Olivia gasped, and Edward reached for her hand.

  “Edward! I...”

  “Olivia, will you marry me? I know that this is perhaps a somewhat odd er, time to ask, but I love you, and it seems that I have a son in need of the help of er, a mother, as well as a father, to introduce him to er, society, and his role as my heir.”

  Mrs Bentick beamed at them. At that moment, the door burst open, and a boy almost fell into the room. He righted himself, and froze, standing in the middle of the worn carpet.

  Mrs Bentick laughed again. “Pierce, my boy, how long were you listening?” The boy blushed bright red, and Edward watched, sympathising with him in his embarrassment at being caught. Beside him, Olivia made a small strangled sound, which he believed to be a repressed laugh.

  “Ummm, a long time Nan.”

  “So, then, you’ve discovered something you didn’t know.”

  “Yes.” He turned wide eyes to Edward. “Are you truly my father, my Lord?”

  “It appears that I er, am. And I am very er, er, happy about that indeed.”

  The boy stepped forward, as if fascinated, but unsure what to do. Edward allowed impulse to take over, and swept the child into his arms. After a moment of stiff awkwardness, the boy returned his hug. Then the child stepped back, and spoke.

  “I think, sir, that I am happy about that too. I love Nan, but I always wondered. I wanted a father, like the other boys had... I wanted a mother too...”

  His words tailed off, his voice getting softer. He glanced at Olivia, then down to the floor, afraid he had said too much. Olivia reached for Edward’s hand, and held out her other hand to Pierce.

  “Will I suit you as a mother, Pierce? For your father has just asked me to marry him, as I am sure you heard.”

  The boy lifted his head, glanced to the old woman, who nodded, then he stepped forward again, and accepted Olivia’s hand.

  “Yes, my Lady, I think you will be a very nice mother indeed.”

  Olivia turned to Edward, her green eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “Then yes, Edward, I will marry you, and be a mother to Pierce.”

  Edward bent towards her, and brushed a kiss over her lips.

  A little later, once the boy had succumbed to the effects of excitement, and curled up in an armchair and fallen asleep, with that facility common to children and puppies, Edward spoke to Mrs Bentick.

  “Do not think that we will simply er, take the boy and abandon you, Mrs Bentick, you deserve far better than er, that. Without you, I er, would not have a son, and without you, he would not be the er, er, fine young man that he is. I would like you to come with us, to reside at er, Greenidge House, or Camberton Chase, as you er, will, for the rest of your days. Your presence will er, help Pierce adapt – and will help me to learn how to be a father, properly. Will you er, come?”

  Mrs Bentick sat for a minute, her eyes roaming around the room, then nodded.

  “I will, my Lord, for this would be a lonely place once he’s gone. Thank you. Whatever Sarina believed of you, I know now that she was mostly mistaken.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The return journey to London was far different from the journey out. Olivia was still reeling from the dramatic turn of events, and from Edward’s proposal. Until he had said the words, she had not realised quite how desperately she had wanted to hear them. In a way, she was glad that they had been interrupted in London – for if he had asked, before the existence of his son had been revealed, then she would have felt that duty compelled her to reject his suit, no matter how much she loved him – for a titled man needed an heir. Now, that had ceased to be an issue.

  The boy looked so like Edward – she could imagine what he must have been like, at the same age. She would, she thought, enjoy being a mother to this boy. He was so obviously bright, and was most well behaved – well, apart from a little eavesdropping! She hoped, also, that Sterling would like him, and would provide another strong male influence for him.

  The thought that she would soon marry Edward filled her with joy, and a shiver ran through her when she considered future nights spent in his bed. Now that she knew the pleasure that was to be had, she would seek it at every opportunity.

  The carriage rolled through the countryside, making good time, and they stayed at a different Inn, closer to London. She had sent a message to Hemsbridge Park, informing them that she would not be coming there yet, and a message to Asterwood House, to let Sterling and Amelia know that she was returning to London. But she had saved the news of her betrothal to deliver in person.

  The carriage deposited her at Asterwood House, with Edward promising to call on her the following morning – for now, his main purpose was to get Pierce and Mrs Bentick settled into Greenidge House. He kissed her softly before she stepped down from the carriage, and she smiled, happier than she had been for years.

  Inside, she sent her valise up to her room, and went into the parlour. Sterling and Amelia sat by the fire, looking relaxed and happy. The sight warmed her heart.

  “Mother, you look well. But what is going on? First you say that you are going to Hemsbridge Park, now you are back here. Is there something I have missed?”

  Olivia considered, then decided to wait, knowing that Sterling would be driven quite mad by the delay.

  “You will have to wait until tomorrow to hear the answer to that question. I am far too tired from travelling to tell you the story tonight. But never fear, what I have to tell is all good news.”

  “Wait until tomorrow? Surely you could...”

  Olivia laughed, shaking her head.

  “No, I simply refuse to do anything this evening but eat, and then sleep. You will just have to wait. And you never were very good at that.”

  Sterling looked huffy for a moment, but Amelia put her hand on his arm, and he stilled, turning to her with a rather besotted smile. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, and Olivia retired early, eager for the following day to arrive.

  EDWARD ARRIVED AT ASTERWOOD House soon after midday. Already, he ached to see Olivia again, even though they had only been apart overnight. He wondered how her son and his wife had taken the news of her betrothal, and fidgeted a little as he waited for the door to be opened in response to his knock.

  Waters showed him in with a smile, and took him through to the parlour., As he was announced, Olivia rose and came to him. Sterling looked up curiously. He had barely greeted her before Olivia led him to stand before her son. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke.

  “Sterling, Amelia, now I will tel
l you what I refused to last night. Edward, Viscount Camberton, has asked me to marry him, and I have accepted. Not only that, but the last few days have been remarkable, for it was revealed that Edward has a son, borne thirteen years ago by his first wife, shortly before she died. A son he had not known existed until now. So I will be a mother again.”

  Sterling was, apparently, surprised to silence. It was Amelia who spoke.

  “Why that is wonderful! I wish you both great happiness. Have you decided where and when you will wed?”

  Olivia looked to Edward.

  “I... er, er, that is to say, we have not yet discussed that, although I er, er, had hoped that we might have the banns read this Sunday, which would allow the er, three readings before Christmas. Would you consider a wedding a few days before Christmas, my dear?”

  “That would be wonderful! We could wed in London, and then spend Christmastide at Hemsbridge Park, before perhaps spending some time at Camberton Chase?”

  Olivia looked at him hopefully as she spoke.

  “If your son is willing to have his Christmas invaded by us, as newlyweds, complete with my son and Mrs Bentick, then I believe I would enjoy that. I er, have no other family left to spend Christmas with.”

  Sterling stood, and came to Edward, taking his hand.

  “Congratulations, Camberton. You have achieved things I had never imagined possible. You appear to not only have charmed my mother, but to have convinced her that love is valuable, and that marriage is for far more than the preservation of bloodlines. I never thought to see the day. But I am glad of it, glad to see her so happy.”

  “Thank you, my Lord. Might I bring my son to meet you, soon? For he knows little of his heritage, and needs to begin to meet others who will influence him.”