‘Should everything be easy for you, Elizabeth?’
She had the grace to blush. ‘I suppose not.’ She took a deep breath and determination settled over her like a mantle. ‘I told St. Cyrus yes.’
‘Is he the father of your child?’
Why he was pursuing this, Hugo didn’t know, but he was piqued that she had nearly ruined his life and Annabell’s and now she acted as though nothing had happened.
She shrugged. ‘He might be as easily as you. Probably more so for the reason you and I have previously discussed.’ Her blush deepened.
‘Ah, protection,’ Hugo said softly.
‘Hugo!’
He eyed her. ‘Does he know the situation?’
She nodded. ‘He is willing to raise the child as his.’ Her face took on a blissful look. ‘He loves me. I didn’t believe so when we parted on the Continent.’ Now she looked the tiniest bit sorry. ‘That is why I sent for you.’
Hugo just looked at her. His joy at being released was like a balloon that threatened to explode if he wasn’t careful. But at the same time, his irritation with her was not easily put aside and it made his voice crueller than it should have been.
‘I was your ace in the hole.’
‘To put it crudely, yes.’
‘Then you will send a retraction to The Times.’ He made it a statement.
‘Yes. You are free to marry your Annabell, Hugo.’
He stood and looked down at her, ignoring her last words. What he intended to do was none of her business. ‘I wish you the best.’
‘Goodbye,’ she said softly to his back.
Hugo did not look back.
Annabell sat by the front window, watching the pedestrians: men in beaver hats and spotless coats, women in walking dresses. Occasionally a maid scurried on her mistress’s errand. Sometimes a nanny with several children in tow passed.
The last reminded her of Joseph and Rosalie. She wondered how they were doing, and Juliet. She smiled, but it was melancholy. She would very likely see them again. Unless she missed her guess, her stepson intended to wed Lady Fitzsimmon.
She sighed and rose. It was time to dress for the lecture at the Society of Antiquaries. Mr Jeffrey Studivant was presenting his paper on her Roman villa, a follow up on the first paper she had presented several weeks ago.
She moved slowly, determined not to think about what had been in yesterday’s Times. Dominic had shown her.
She stopped and her heart thudded painfully. Lady Mainwaring had announced that her engagement to Sir Hugo Fitzsimmon was broken. Hugo was free. But he had not come to tell her even though the separation had to have happened several days before.
Had all his words, all his pursuit been nothing? She feared so.
She blinked, realised she had stopped moving, and forced herself to continue to the door. She needed to dress. She needed to go out so she would not sit here and descend into melancholy.
And to think she had wondered if she could have brought herself to marry Hugo, should he ever ask. She was a fool, a self-delusional fool. She loved him. It seemed she had loved him her entire life.
But he had not come for her.
The drawing-room door opened and Oswald stood there with a very pleased look on his face. ‘Sir Hugo Fitzsimmon.’
Surely he jested. But, no, Hugo was right behind the butler. Her former lover strode into the room, and she wondered how she could have ever thought she would not have him if he offered. But he hadn’t, so her fall from independence was immaterial.
She dredged up all her pride. ‘Good afternoon, Sir Hugo.’ She smiled, knowing it was thin and unwelcoming. ‘I fear you have come at a bad time. I am just on my way out.’
He did not return her smile. ‘What I have to say won’t take long, Bell.’
She started at his use of her family name. ‘Lady Fenwick-Clyde.’
He took a step nearer. ‘Bell. My Lady Spitfire.’
She blanched and tried to walk around him, but he shifted so that she could not pass. Nor was there anyone to call for help. Coward that he was, Oswald had already left and closed the door behind him. He had known something was afoot. Where was Dominic when she needed him? Gone out with Lucy Duckworth.
She threw caution to the winds. ‘Why are you here, Hugo? The announcement was yesterday.’
Nor could she keep the hurt and disappointment from her voice. That shamed her. She had fought for her independence and now she would gladly give it up. No, she would beg to give it up to Hugo. She shook her head and made herself stand tall and proud.
He closed the distance between them.
She edged away, not wanting him to touch her. Whenever he touched her she lost all resolve, no matter what her reason for resisting him might be. She had learned that lesson well during her stay at Rosemont and, later, here in London, that night at Almack’s.
He moved with her. ‘I couldn’t come sooner, Bell.’
She frowned. ‘Couldn’t or wouldn’t?’
The look he gave her was tender and loving. She wondered if her brain had gone soft as her body was threatening to do. Surely he was not looking at her the way she thought he was. If he were, he would have rushed to her as soon as he knew he was free—days ago.
‘Wouldn’t, Bell.’
She stared mutely at him, unable to speak. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him. What had happened to all her independence, her determination to make a life without a man’s hand on her? Gone. Lost the first time he kissed her, only she hadn’t realised it then.
She lifted her chin. She could still be independent. She was strong. ‘Please leave.’
She was proud her pain didn’t show in the clipped words. She would get through this, just as she had gotten through his engagement to Elizabeth Mainwaring.
‘Not until I ask you to marry me.’
‘What?’ Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly.
‘Marry me, Bell.’
His words were soft, almost hesitant. If she didn’t know him better, she would think he was unsure of himself. Yet, there was that determined gleam in his green eyes.
She gaped at him, then anger came to her rescue and stiffened her resolve. ‘Your jest is in poor taste, Sir Hugo.’
He shook his head, the too-long hair framing his sharp cheekbones. For a second he looked wild. ‘No jest, Bell.’ His magnificent lips curved. ‘I have never jested with you. And I have never lied to you.’
She looked long and hard at him, searching for the truth of his words. She didn’t think she could stand to be hurt by him again. She had only survived the last time because of her determination and strength. If he failed her again…
She sucked in air, wondering what would happen if the dizziness overtaking her won. She would fall to the floor and awaken later, remembering this only as a dream. She had longed so much for him to come to her like this.
‘If you truly mean what you say, why did it take you so long?’
Now a little bit of her agony was in her voice. She flushed at the realisation that she was so vulnerable to this man, and she had let him know.
‘Because I wanted you to have this when I proposed.’
He held out a velvet box. She shuddered.
‘Another piece of jewellery?’ Bitterness tinged her words. She drew back.
‘Yes.’ He closed the distance between them and fell to one knee, wincing.
Concern swelled up in her. ‘Don’t, Hugo. Your injury doesn’t do well when you kneel. Please stand.’
He looked up at her and opened the box. Inside was a ring. A star sapphire, large as a pigeon’s egg, surrounded by diamonds, winked up at her. It was large enough to span one knuckle.
‘The Garibaldi engagement ring, my grandmother’s gift to me. I want you to have it.’
She gasped, her left hand going to her throat where her pulse beat rapidly. The first words from her mouth were unintentional, but came from the depths of her hurt soul.
‘That isn’t the ring you gave L
ady Mainwaring.’
‘No,’ he said, taking the ring from its satin bed. ‘I would have never given it to her. She is not the bride of my heart. The ring is always given to a true love. That is why I’m giving it to you.’
The tears she had tried so hard to hold back welled up and over. They spilled silently down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them.
‘Hugo.’
He caught her unresisting left hand and slipped the ring on to her finger. It fit perfectly.
‘I love you, Bell,’ he said simply, but there was such a wealth of emotion in the words that she could not doubt him.
She sank to her knees beside him.
He smiled tenderly at her. ‘The sapphire came from India back in the late sixteen hundreds. It was given to one of my Garibaldi ancestors by a Maharaja as a token of esteem. Legend says that as long as the gem goes to a true love, that union will be blessed with happiness and many children. My ancestor had it made into an engagement ring.’ He cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip. ‘I could have never given it to anyone but you, Bell.’
She kissed him gently at first, then more passionately. ‘Hugo, I love you so much.’
He pulled away just enough to say, ‘I know.’
Their wedding was a small affair, held in the small chapel at Rosemont. They had invited immediate family only, and Susan Pennyworth and Tatterly.
The minister beamed at the couple before him. ‘You may place the ring on her finger.’
Hugo looked at Annabell as he slid the sapphire-studded wedding band on to her finger. ‘I love you.’
The minister closed the Bible. ‘I pronounce you man and wife.’
Annabell smiled at her husband. ‘I love you forever.’
‘Hear, hear,’ Dominic Chillings’s voice rose above the hearty clapping. ‘Kiss her like you mean it, Fitzsimmon. No pecking. You put her through enough to get here.’
Hugo felt Annabell stiffen. He lifted his head enough to look at his brother-in-law. ‘You are a reprobate, Dominic, but occasionally you do have a good idea.’
The other guests cheered.
Hugo turned back to his bride and smiled. ‘Shall we show them how it’s done?’
She blushed, but there was a glint in her eyes. ‘By all means.’
He placed his mouth on hers and forgot the initial challenge as he fell into the passion and love they shared. Her lips opened and he plunged inside, wishing he could do more than kiss her. His body ached to do more.
When they came up for air, she was flushed and he was aroused. He buried his face in her hair and whispered, ‘Thank goodness we are home and can go upstairs. I am about to embarrass myself.’
Her laugh was throaty and full of promise. ‘We don’t want that, love.’
He nipped her ear. ‘No, we don’t.’
He turned her to face their guests. Guy, Viscount Chillings, had given Annabell away. He stood to one side with Felicia and their very healthy baby son, Adam. Dominic was now heckling Susan Pennyworth, the future Mrs. Tatterly. Tatterly stood nearby, watching the byplay with a besotted look on his face. Juliet and the children beamed at him. Timothy, Lord Fenwick-Clyde, stood close. They had not announced their engagement, but Hugo sensed they would do so soon. He hoped they would find the same joy together that he had found with Annabell.
Hugo guided his bride through the well-wishers. Annabell glowed with happiness.
She turned to him, ‘I am so glad we had our wedding here.’ She looked around the chapel, decked out in the last of the summer roses. ‘Rosemont has been like a home to me since I first came here.’
‘Since you found that Roman villa here, you mean,’ he teased.
‘That too.’ She smiled up at him.
‘Here, here, you two,’ Dominic said, closing the distance. ‘Don’t forget you have guests and we still have breakfast. Then you can show us around.’
Hugo shook his head. ‘Not this time. We are too old to stand by society’s practices.’
Dominic raised both brows. ‘Really? Then what do you intend to do, leave us to our own devices? Hardly gracious.’
Hugo laughed. ‘Too bad.’
‘For that is exactly what we intend to do,’ Annabell finished for her husband.
She wanted him as badly as he did her. They had remained chaste since their engagement, knowing the self-denial would make their wedding night all that more memorable.
Everyone had heard her words, but she did not care. There was clapping and a few indiscreet remarks followed.
‘Not done, old fellow,’ Dominic continued to press. ‘The same to you, Annabell. You should be blushing from the top of your gown to the roots of your hair.’
She laughed. ‘But I am, little brother.’
‘Wait until you are wed,’ Hugo said to Dominic. ‘I venture to guess you will be even more impatient than we are.’
Dominic turned brick red as though Hugo had caught him in the act of something forbidden. Hugo gave him a speculative look, but said nothing. His brother-in-law would do whatever it was he intended to do. He knew the man well enough to know there would be no sense in prying.
Besides, he had other interests. He turned to Jamison, who had been his groomsman. ‘Lady Fitzsimmon and I are retiring. See that no one disturbs us.’
‘Yes, sir,’ the valet replied, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘I’ll stand guard outside the door.’
‘You don’t need to go that far,’ Annabell protested before seeing the mischievousness in Jamison’s smile.
‘Yes, my lady,’ Jamison said, barely able to suppress his guffaw.
Hugo shook his head and propelled Annabell through the door and up the stairs before anything else was said. When they reached the door to his chambers, he stopped her.
‘I intend to carry you over the threshold.’
She laughed. ‘Absolutely not, Hugo. The last thing I want on our wedding day is to injure your leg.’
He dipped his head to kiss her. ‘If I hurt that, it won’t stop what I have in mind for this afternoon, evening and all day tomorrow.’
Her blush returned and her grin was wicked. ‘No, but that would make it painful for you, my dear, since I intend to see that you live up to that boast.’
He opened the door, then swung her into his arms and carried her into the room and to the bed. He dumped her in the pile of silk and satin cushions where she lay very still, gazing up at him.
‘I love you,’ she said quietly, all of her previous humour gone. ‘I love you so much it hurts.’
‘And I you,’ he said, meaning every word more than he had ever meant anything else in his life. ‘Now and always.’
She sighed and reached for him.
He went to her.
When they lay naked in the sheets, he caught her bottom lip with his thumb and rubbed. ‘I want to remember this for the rest of our lives.’
She twinned her arms around his neck. He meant so much to her. ‘We will, love. We will.’
He gazed at her with more love in his heart than he had ever imagined himself capable of. Then he kissed her, deeply and passionately. She opened to him.
Annabell revelled in the desire he always ignited in her. With him she felt that anything was possible. She stroked the unruly hair from his face and dug her fingers into the silken strands to hold him to her.
He drank in her bounty, his hands cupping her breasts. His fingers stroked her swollen flesh until her nipples hardened and she gasped. He ached for her, ached so it hurt.
She rubbed one hand down the back of his neck to his shoulders, marvelling in the muscles that rippled beneath his skin. Her fingers raked gently down the ridges bracketing his spine. He was so strong and so beautiful in his masculinity.
He broke away from her lips and gave her his rakish smile. ‘You are mine.’
When her slumberous eyes opened and her moist mouth smiled, he thought he would lose control. His manhood strained against the slight swell of her stomach. But he wasn’t ready to ente
r her yet.
Annabell saw the passion in his eyes and felt her stomach twist as sensation started radiating through her. She was more than ready for him. She moved her hips suggestively.
‘Not yet,’ he murmured, kissing her chin lightly in passing.
He nuzzled the sensitive skin on the side of her neck and down to the hollow at the base of her throat. His hands shifted downward, skimming over her ribs and abdomen. He felt her nails dig into his hips and knew he was exciting her. He chuckled low in his throat.
Then his mouth was at her breast and he sucked powerfully so her back arched and a small whimper came from deep in her chest. He continued to pull and nip while his fingers moved inexorably lower. When he entered her, she was moist.
Pleasure filled him. He wanted her to remember their first time together since being wed. He wanted that so badly that he could postpone his own release until he had completely satiated her.
Annabell felt his fingers inside her and thought she would explode. She gasped and tingles started at the small of her back and rushed outwards. She gripped him tightly, urging him deeper. Her mind grew fuzzy and the only thing that mattered was what he was doing to her.
She was on the brink when he withdrew. She gasped, ‘Hugo.’
‘Easy, my love. I won’t leave you like this. I promise.’ He kissed her mouth lightly, then deeper. ‘I want you to remember this time for the rest of your life.’
Tears welled up and she did nothing to stop them. ‘You make me so happy.’
‘Don’t cry, my love,’ he murmured, licking one salty drop from her cheek. ‘This is only the beginning.’
She nodded and pulled his lips back to hers. ‘Always.’
He sank into her embrace, his body over hers. When her legs opened, and his hips settled, he was lost. ‘I am sorry, Bell,’ he gasped. ‘I had wanted this to last longer, but I can’t hold out.’
She hooked her ankles around his hips. ‘Pleasure me now, Hugo. I cannot take any more.’
He kissed her long and hard as her hips rose up to meet his. He wanted her so badly he hurt.
For one last moment of sanity, he held himself back. ‘I am not protected.’
She smiled at him, her lips swollen and moist. ‘I want your baby, Hugo.’
An Unconventional Widow Page 27
