“Can he afford a bloody inn?”
“Probably not. You should have thought of that before you asked him to leave,” she said.
Benedict rolled his eyes. “You’ll need funds for your journey—and your elopement,” he added somewhat bitterly. “I’ll have it waiting for you in the study.”
Mary smiled. “I love you, Benedict. I really, really do. But I’m not a little girl anymore, even though half the time I despair of looking like one.”
“If he ever gives you cause to regret this—”
“He will not,” Mary said, and she had complete faith in that. She believed it entirely. “I’m certain we will disagree. I’m even more certain that he will, at times, be as high-handed and managing as you are and I will have to put him in his place, just as I did you! And I relish the very thought of it. No one, Benedict, knows better than the two of us how precious it is to find love… not when the first half of our lives was so lacking in it. Now get out of here so that I can change and go chase down the man I love like the scandalous creature I’ve become.”
Benedict shuddered at the thought, but said nothing further as he left the room.
Mary immediately stripped off her nightrail and donned a chemise and stays. A single petticoat followed and the traveling gown she had worn when she first came to Bath. It had been just over a month since she’d come to the city, a fortnight since she’d been abducted. How time could appear so fluid, with events being so fresh in her mind and also feel as if eons had passed, was a mystery to her. Because her life was so incredibly different from the beginning of that journey to the end of it.
Twisting her hair up into a simple knot, she shoved pins in it as one of the maids entered and began packing the few gowns she possessed into her valise. “Lord Vale ordered the coach round for you, miss. It should be here directly.”
Mary thanked the girl and left the room. In the corridor, she ran into Elizabeth. The other woman hugged her quickly. “I wish you the very best of luck, my dear. And I am appalled at your brother’s managing behavior.”
A smile curved Mary’s lips. “He is doing what he always does—what he perceives to be best for me. It just so happens that, for once, we disagree on that course of action. But I do think he has seen the error of his ways. I meant to ask earlier, what happened to Mr. Hamilton?”
“He’s been taken by the magistrate to the gaol. And it’s quite likely that he will stay there. Given what happened with Lady Wolverton today, he may succeed in laying everything at her door, but perhaps not. Mr. Hillyard was quite unconvinced by his stories. Benedict has already stated that he will front the costs for trying him for both Mr. Davies’ murder and his role in the kidnapping scheme that Harrelson was operating, so we shall see.”
Mary nodded, relieved to have one loose end tied up. “And Frederick, his brother? And the other women and children who were taken? What of them?”
“Middlethorp is piecing it together. He has friends at Bow Street and in the Home Office. Obviously, we will not be able to find them all, but if there are any that can be rescued or require rescuing, we will do so. But stop worrying about this and go after that man. I knew from the moment I saw you together that he adored you!” Elizabeth protested.
“He does,” Mary said. “And I adore him. I only hope this hasn’t ruined anything for us.”
“The course of true love does not run smooth, but it does always run. Infinitely and without thought to any obstacle in its path. Go and catch yourself an earl, my dear.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The inn at Wickham was crowded but Alex had managed to snag the last room for himself. It was small and cramped, tucked up under the eaves with a narrow bed and a chimney that smoked, but at least it was private. He was in no mood for company and the boisterous taproom had grated on his nerves the moment he walked in.
He missed her already. He was angry at himself for leaving her, but equally angry because every point Vale had made in favor of delaying the match had been valid. It was an assault on his pride and his dignity that he couldn’t provide for her in the way that she deserved. And while the promise of an end to his financial hardships was nigh, he had no guarantee of when it would occur, or if everything that had been taken would be returned or only a portion of it. It was very possible that even after the House of Lords had made their decisions, he might still be poor by the standards of the nobility. She would be denied the society that her brother would now be welcomed into because he couldn’t afford it.
Cursing, Alex stripped off his dusty coat and waistcoat. The cravat came next and the lot of it was tossed upon the single chair in the room. He didn’t care that he had nothing else to wear and that the clothes would be horribly rumpled the following morning. Those were the very least of his concerns.
Crossing to the basin, he tipped the pitcher of water and filled the bowl so that he could wash some of the grime of the road from his body. If he had any sense about him, he would have gotten a bottle from the taproom before coming up. There weren’t enough spirits in the entire establishment to tempt him once more into the company of others.
There was a knock on the door and Alex cursed. It was likely the maid bringing up dinner. Grabbing his shirt, he tugged it on and then opened the door. Immediately he stopped, struck completely speechless by the sight that greeted him. Mary, with her blonde hair tucked under her bonnet and wearing a simple traveling costume of green wool, stood before him, her small hand poised as if she’d meant to knock again.
“I was hoping I’d catch you here,” she said softly. “It wasn’t quite noon when I left Bath and thought you might stop for the night here.”
“It’s a good stopping point, half the journey behind and half ahead.” Realizing just how inane the conversation had become, he got to the point straightaway. His confusion evident in his tone, he asked, “Why are you here?”
“Because you said you wanted to marry me,” she replied. “And I really want to be married to you. And my brother is an idiot.”
“His reasons are valid—”
“His reasons are his reasons, Alexander Carnahan, but I have reasons of my own. Will you invite me in to hear them or must I shout them in the corridor?” she asked with a sweet smile and cold steel in her gaze.
Alex stepped back and held the door wide for her to enter. “Come in. I don’t suppose I need to tell you that this is incredibly improper.”
“As was the fact that you tended me while I was ill. I’ve been abducted and held captive, for the likely purpose of being auctioned off to a brothel, and my adopted brother is the long-lost son of a misanthropic viscount who has been reunited with his family after two decades. Not to mention that the wife of the man I love tried to murder me in full view of the Pump Room and the Abbey in the center of Bath today. I think we have scandal covered, Lord Wolverton.”
He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning at her caustic and clearly irritated tone. “When you put it in those terms, well… that doesn’t change the fact that your brother was quite adamant about our waiting to be married.”
“And I was quite adamant when I told him I would not wait,” she replied softly, but then her confidence faltered, and uncertainty blazed in her eyes for just a moment. “Unless… do you want to be married to me now? Under the circumstances, having finally just become a widower, in fact, perhaps marriage is not something you wish to enter into again so soon. Given the behavior of your previous wife, one can certainly understand any hesitation on your part.”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I want you to be my wife more than I have ever wanted anything else,” Alex replied, his voice roughened with desire, longing, with the faint stirrings of hope.
“I have no fortune,” she said.
“I could not care less.”
“My name will be synonymous with scandal and society will cut us entirely,” Mary continued.
“And I’ve never much cared for society anyway. I’d far rather rusticate in
the country.”
“I will likely be called upon to offer testimony in several very high profile court proceedings related to Lord Harrelson and his many schemes.”
“As will I,” he replied.
She looked at him levelly, her brows furrowed and her lips pinched into a tight line. “Then why in heaven’s name would you have been stupid enough to think that those were valid reasons for me not to marry you?”
“I really don’t quite know… other than to say that I was impossibly stupid,” Alex agreed.
“I’ve made a decision, by the way.” As she uttered this proclamation, she removed her bonnet and placed it on the chair. Then her hands came up to tackle the buttons of her spencer. When that garment joined the bonnet and his discarded items, she reached behind her and untied the laces of her gown until it gaped at her breasts and slipped low over one shoulder. “To avoid any further questions about whether or not marrying me now is an honorable thing to do, I’m going to seduce you.”
Utterly entranced, Alex stared at that softly rounded shoulder bared to him save for the thin strap of her chemise. “And are you well acquainted with seduction then?”
“I might require some advice on the matter,” she said as she slid the puffed sleeves of the gown over her arms. The fabric fell to her hips, catching there for just the briefest second before she shimmied slightly and it dropped to the floor to pool at her feet. “I’m assuming that the removal of one’s clothing is usually a step in the right direction.”
His mouth had gone as dry as parchment as he looked at her standing before him in her very sensible undergarments. Clearing his throat, he managed a reply that would allow their banter to continue for a bit longer. “I would say that is a rather universal truth. Nudity and seduction certainly go hand in hand.”
Alex’s gaze locked on her small and delicate fingers as she tugged at the laces of her stays, loosening them until the garment simply fell away. The shift she wore beneath revealed far more than it hid. The linen was so fine and sheer that he could see the curves of her breasts and the darker shadow of rose-colored nipples that had haunted his dreams.
Her petticoat came next, joining her discarded gown on the floor. When she wore only that thin shift and every part of her was bared by the gossamer-like fabric, she paused.
“Is seduction typically so one-sided? Or do you remove your clothing as well?”
It was a challenge, and one that prompted a smile from him despite the state of aroused agony he found himself in. “By definition, yes, seduction is rather one-sided. But as I am already thoroughly seduced, I think we can dispense with the standard protocol.” With that, he reached for the hem of his shirt and stripped it off. His boots followed and then he was stalking toward her, closing the small amount of space between them until he could feel the heat of her skin and soft press of her breasts against him. Her bravado had faltered by then, her lower lip trembled slightly and her brown eyes were wide. “You can still change your mind. It may well ruin me forever, but you can.”
“No. I can’t. Today, just before I took both Helena and myself over that balustrade and into the river, my greatest regret was that I didn’t explore the feelings I had for you at Wolfhaven. That I ran like a scared rabbit when you kissed me. So, while I lack the knowledge to lead any further in this particular arena, I will not be bowing out.”
Alex lifted her into his arms and carried her to the small bed. But he didn’t lay her down upon it. Instead, he seated himself on the edge of it and settled her across his thighs. The position had the advantage of putting them eye to eye. It gave them a moment to take one another’s measure, as if sizing up an opponent rather than a lover. It also caused the thin chemise she wore to ride up, bunching around her hips until her thighs and the gentle curves of her bottom were entirely bare. One less barrier between them, one less obstacle to keep him from the treasures of her body and the pleasure that awaited them both.
“Kiss me,” she said. “And stop all this infernal thinking that only rattles my nerves further.”
He did. Alex was helpless to do anything else. Capturing her lips, the kiss was gentle but still potent. His lips moved over hers and she answered by mimicking those same touches. Unable to resist the temptation of her parted lips, he slipped his tongue between them, stroking it gently against hers. Soft sighs gave way to moans. Her arms locked about his neck, her hands pressing firmly against his shoulders as her breath shuddered from her. His hands did ample exploring of their own, coasting along the satiny skin of her thighs, her shapely calves, and then delving beneath the simple linen that still covered most of her charms.
It was only the promise of sweeter torment that induced him to break the kiss. The slender column of her throat, the lovely and perfect curve of her shoulder. Tugging at the thin straps of her chemise, he pulled the garment lower until one lush breast was bared to him. Her head fell back and she arched toward him in obvious invitation.
*
The memory of his hand on her breast, even though it had only been the briefest of caresses, had inflamed her. But it wasn’t his hand she felt on that tender flesh in that moment. It was the wet heat of his mouth closing over the budded peak. The sensation overwhelmed her, the pleasure of it swarming her senses but also inciting a deep longing inside her. She ached for him, for his touch, for the fulfillment of being his in every way that she possibly could.
Thought fled as the pleasure grew. She simply could not hold on to rational thought anymore. In fact, she could not have formed words for the life of her. Instead, she simply held on to him, offering herself up to the sweet torment of his lips on her skin, of the slight sting of his teeth and the soothing, gentle strokes of his tongue.
At some point, he stripped away her chemise, the thin garment simply drifting to the floor, forgotten and ignored. Naked, seated astride his powerful thighs, there was no embarrassment or hesitation. It felt strangely natural to be so with him. But his remaining clothing became a source of frustration. Compelled by both curiosity and desire, she reached for the fall of his trousers, but Alex caught her hand.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve only a shred of control left and if you touch me…”
“Would that be so terrible?” she asked.
His smile was just a bit wicked as he said, “Yes. It would. It’s your turn to be seduced now.”
Before Mary could question what he meant, he had moved them so that she was reclining on the bed and he was on top of her, but still pressed very intimately between her thighs. But then he was kissing her breasts again, teasing each furled nipple with his questing mouth until she couldn’t think. She could only feel.
Then his hands were on her thighs, stroking them slowly and sensually until he reached the apex and touched the curls that shielded her sex. A gasp escaped her, but not of fear. It was anticipation and eagerness to finally know his touch. Mary parted her thighs further, an act of complete trust and surrender, an invitation for him to complete their joining. She could feel the heat building inside her, unfurling, and then he touched her intimately. He parted her flesh and stroked one fingertip over a sensitive bud of flesh that made her cry out.
He touched her again and again, coaxing a chorus of moans and cries from her. Her body had bowed beneath his, arching into his touch, seeking something that she could not quite fathom. And then it happened. The unbearable tension that had drawn her muscles taut and left her shuddering beneath him simply snapped. Her body pulsed with it, sending waves of intense pleasure rushing through her until she collapsed on the bed once more, panting and breathless.
“I think you are much better at seduction than I am,” she finally managed and startled a laugh from him.
“I don’t know. You availed yourself quite well, I think,” he teased.
“Don’t make me wait any longer. I want you to make love to me. I want to be yours,” she urged him. It was a desperate plea, and some of her fear crept in. It wasn’t fear of what they were about to do, or of the unknown given
her lack of experience. It was the fear that something else would happen to keep them apart. Mary felt as if the fates had pushed them together just long enough for her heart to be engaged and had then done everything possible to tear them apart.
Alex rose just long enough to shed the last remnants of his clothing. Naked, he joined her once more, their bodies molded together in an intimate embrace. “You will always be mine,” he vowed.
The release he’d given her had eased her desire, offering some respite from the relentless yearning, but it was still there, simmering just below the surface. As he entered her, it was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Foreign, yes, entirely. Then there was the briefest moment of discomfort. And yet when their bodies were fully joined, when she was connected to him in a way she never had been with any other and would never be, she met his gaze. And as their eyes locked, he moved within her, surging forward and then withdrawing.
That slight movement was a revelation. The tension that had filled her before appeared again, more intense and more insistent than before. Every surge, every stroke of his flesh within her ratcheted that tension higher. But now, she understood what awaited her beyond it. And when it peaked, Mary welcomed it eagerly, calling out his name with abandon. Only seconds later, he followed her over that precipice.
In the aftermath of it, still trembling and breathless, Mary clung to him and vowed that nothing would ever come between them again.
Epilogue
Mary picked up the small posy of flowers from the table beside the bed and sniffed them with a smile. They would wilt soon, but for now they were lovely.
“Perhaps I can dry them? Or take some of them and press them into a book to keep them forever?”
The Mystery of Miss Mason (The Lost Lords Book 5) Page 23
