Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four)
Page 28
She caught her breath by how he filled her. She felt whole for the first time. And when she looked into his eyes so filled with tenderness, she felt pure for the first time in many years.
She began to move with him. He drew her breast into his mouth, suckling in time with her movements. He held her to him, his arms bands of stone. Pulling her to him, making her his.
She moved faster and faster as he whispered endearments to her. Words of longing, tender, explicit. She could barely breathe and couldn’t even think of speaking. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she’d tell him she loved him. And always would. With him she could almost believe in the possibility of a new life, far removed from the old one. Time would no longer be measured in terms of “before and after the attack.” It would be “before and after she met him,” Richard Parker. The best man she’d ever known.
As she grew closer and closer to her climax, his breathing grew heavier, his cock even harder. He pulled back from her just enough so he could see her eyes. “Look at me,” he said, his voice a deep rasp. “Let me watch as you come.”
She did as he said and they both looked into each others’ eyes as their passion crested. It was the most profound experience of her life.
With a sigh, Richard lay back on the pillow, pulling her with him as he went. He kept her against his chest where she could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her.
“That was extraordinary,” he said, as he stroked his hand across her back. “Only one thing could make it perfect.”
“And what would that be?” she asked, blissfully happy.
“That we could do this again as man and wife. Say you’ll marry me, dear sweet Anne. Make me the happiest of men.”
“I thought you might marry Melanie.” Even the possibility of it made her anxious.
“There was a time I considered it out of duty. We seemed to suit and she was in need of a husband. However, she and I would not suit, nor do I believe she will be in need of a husband much longer. But you and I are meant to be one. Please say you will marry me.”
She thought of all the reasons why such a match was ludicrous. “You cannot possibly believe this would work.”
“I know this would work. And I will not stop asking until you say yes. If you don’t accept the proposal for my sake, pray do so for the untold women who need our help back in Philadelphia. For I shall not leave London until I take you with me as my bride.”
She didn’t say yes. But, for the first time, she wondered if it might be possible to accept the proposal she wanted more than anything in the world. For the moment, she simply luxuriated in the feel of being held by strong arms in a warm bed.
Then she reached up and kissed him. And they began again.
* * *
“Lord Heffner,” said Hal, “Pray do me the honor of addressing you in private. I have something I should like to ask you.”
Mel couldn’t help but admire the way Lord Henry Kellington could look so elegant, while bloodied and bruised and wearing torn clothing. She herself looked little better. Indeed, if her brief glimpse in the mirror was any indication, she looked a great deal worse. But they’d no sooner walked into her uncle’s home than her entire family had fallen down about them, relieved by her safe return. And she hadn’t even had the chance to wash and change before Hal had petitioned her uncle.
“Oh, no you don’t, Hal,” she said, walking up to him. “You’ll not say a thing to my uncle out of my hearing. If he grants you an audience, I shall be right there with him.”
“As will I,” said Aunt Evelyn, who hadn’t moved from Mel’s side.
“And I,” said Lady Mary. “I refuse to be left out of this meeting. So, shall we go to your study, Papa?”
“It seems I have very little choice in the matter,” said her father.
Once they were seated and Lord Heffner had pressed a glass of brandy into Hal’s hand, along with his gratitude for bringing Mel home safely, they finally let Hal have his say.
“My lord, I have been one of the worst possible suitors your niece could ever be unfortunate enough to have.”
Mel’s uncle took a sip of his drink. “I must say this is not starting off particularly impressively, my boy.”
“Hush, Papa,” said Mary. “I believe it gets better from here. At least I should hope so.”
Hal bowed to her. “Thank you, Lady Mary, for your encouragement, lukewarm though it may be. Lord Heffner, I have been the worst of suitors, which is why I faithfully promise to be the best of husbands. If you will but grant me permission to marry your niece, I shall spend a lifetime making it up to her.”
“I don’t know, Hal,” said Aunt Evelyn with tears in her eyes, “you shall have to live a long life to make all of this up to her.”
“I will take that as a direct order, my lady.”
Lord Heffner smiled. “You have my permission, but Melanie is the one who will answer yes or no. What will it be, child?”
“I do not believe there is a question as of yet for me to answer.”
Hal Kellington went down on bended knee in front of her. “Melanie Sutton, will you do me the great honor of agreeing to be my bride?”
Melanie wiped away a tear. “Only if you keep to your promise to live a long life with me beside you.”
They kissed – right in front of her relatives – which was only fitting, since Lord Henry Kellington had earned his reputation as a rake.
Even if he was about to retire it.
EPILOGUE
The announcement had been as shocking as when the Thames had frozen over several years earlier – and just about as welcome by the ton’s matchmaking mamas. Lord Henry Kellington, the infamous Lord Hal, was betrothed. And to an American miss, at that.
No one had realized that Hal had even been looking for a wife. And if a few rumors were circulating about a possible scandal involving his betrothed and a bawdy house, well, Lady Crenshaw, the groom’s paternal aunt, certainly put paid to them.
In the same issue of the Times that had proclaimed the astonishing news, there had also been a lesser seen item, one that had been met with indifferent shrugs: Mr. Charles Francis was taking an extended holiday on the continent and might even extend his trip to India and other points in the Orient. What few knew was the reason behind the trip. Though Inspector Joseph Stapleton had wanted to arrest Francis for blackmail, it was decided that any information he might possess would be forgotten if he was permitted to leave the country. Thus his trip had been arranged, and after threats from associates of both Madame Thurmond and Conrad Patton, his continued absence was assured.
Conrad Patton was wed to the former Arabella LaRue, nee Susan White, in a delightfully garish ceremony, where Miss Melanie Sutton and her betrothed were once again in the company of whores and Kellingtons.
And Madame Thurmond was confident of her continued freedom after the mysterious death of Mr. Bleaker in Newgate prison.
The members of Clinch’s white slavery ring were rounded up and convicted. And while it was a victory for justice, Stapleton reminded everyone it was only a matter of time before some other villains took their place.
Because evil was too often delayed, rather than defeated.
Two nights after the betrothal announcement appeared in the papers, a very exclusive party was held at Lynwood House. All of the Kellingtons were there, including Aunt Prue and her companion Mariah. The guest of honor, Melanie Sutton was in attendance, along with her aunt, uncle and cousin. The newly married Richard Parker and Anne were there, and while Anne was initially reluctant to socialize with those she still considered her betters, it took little time for Lizzie, Jane and Vanessa to convince her she was truly among friends.
Joseph Stapleton was also in attendance and it was he who brought the cigars out to the terrace after dinner where Liam, Ned, Arthur, Hal and Marcus, Lizzie’s husband, were drinking their brandy.
“Excellent,” said Liam, as he held the cigar under his nose. “From the Americas, correct?”
&
nbsp; “From Cuba, specifically,” said Stapleton as he accepted a light from Arthur. “They were part of the Cassandra’s cargo. We found them in the warehouse and couldn’t let them go to waste.”
“Certainly not,” agreed Ned, as he stretched out his legs. “What will happen to the Cassandra and the Amber Moon? I’m sure no one is eager to come forward and claim ownership.”
“The Crown took possession, then sold them at a discount,” said Stapleton.
“Did the East India Company buy them?” asked Ned.
“No, your sister did,” said Marcus. “Lizzie decided those ships would fit nicely with her new plan, one she’s been making with Jane, Vanessa, Miss Sutton and Mrs. Parker.”
“Good God,” said Ned. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“My wife has decided to help Miss Sutton in her work by transporting women to the Americas where they can start new lives. The venture will be financed by importing goods, like this fine tobacco.”
“Melanie told me Lady Mary is interested in helping out,” said Hal. “She even talks of going to America herself.”
Liam studied his youngest brother. “Your Miss Sutton has been a good influence on a great many people.”
“Especially me,” said Hal with a grin.
“Without a doubt,” said Liam. “Though I believe your biggest influence came from within. Therefore I propose a toast to our youngest brother. He has lived up to his storied name.”
“You mean the excesses of Henry VIII?” asked Hal.
“No,” said Liam. “The courage of Henry V. The king who led armies in victory had nothing on the man who stormed the Amber Moon. To our brother.” Liam and the others raised a glass. “A leader of men.”
They drank.
“Formerly a seducer of women,” said Arthur, as he took another swig.
“Was that truly necessary?” asked Liam.
“I said ‘former’,” replied Arthur.
Stapleton smiled at the brothers’ camaraderie. “All I know is that for the past several months, I have watched Kellingtons – and Riverton – succumb to marriage one by one. Lynwood, you and I are the only ones left in an unwedded state.”
“If you’re looking,” said Marcus with a grin, “my wife will only be too happy to find you a wife.”
“No, thank you,” said Stapleton. “I shall remain a bachelor for the foreseeable future.”
“What about you, Liam?” asked Ned. “The pressure to wed will only increase for you now. I’m sure the mamas will not let you out of their sight. Any plans on how to avoid them?”
“As a matter of fact I do have one.” Liam took a generous sip of his drink. “I’m getting married.”
About the Author
Maureen Driscoll is an Emmy-nominated television writer based in Los Angeles whose credits include “The Dish” on the Style Network, “Jimmy Kimmel Live,” and Nickelodeon’s “BrainSurge.” She is also a former recipient of a Walt Disney Studios screenwriting fellowship, where she wrote a romantic comedy based on her rather painful divorce. The script didn’t make it to the big screen, but it did teach her a few things about happily ever after.
Before moving to Hollywood, Maureen spent nearly a decade working on Capitol Hill. Her novel DATING GEORGE CLOONEY is a political satire inspired by those years.
She is currently working on Liam’s book, the fifth in the Kellington series. Please find her on Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter and MaureenDriscollRomance.wordpress.com.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the following for volunteering their names: Linda Thurmond DeCristofaro, Angela Adams Dupuis, Christy Roe Eller, Anitra Evans, Unnamed Washington Lawyer, Sherry Kinne, Terry Parrish, Sean Pendergrass, LeeAnn Platner, Sonia Reyes, Loreen Robinson, and Aurelia White. If I didn’t get to you this time….I will in the future.
As always, my heartfelt thanks to the amazing Melanie Friedman at Bookworm2bookworm.wordpress.com for being the first to believe in me and for giving me the encouragement to keep going. She also lent Hal’s love interest her name, which was much appreciated.
Thank you so much to Barb Drozdowich for her terrific work at Indie Book Promo and Jennifer Porter at Romance Novel News for giving me a chance. And I couldn’t do this without Linda Thurmond DeCristofaro who keeps me wanting to be crafty at Somethinfromnothinblog; Terree Nelson Lyman who expands my TBR list at Thewindowseat13.blogspot.com; Amal Chaaban, journalist at large; Anitra Evans, ultimate Duck fan; and Janice Minsberg, all-around great egg. Jennifer Omner at Allpublications.com did another amazing cover and makes this so much fun, and author John Heldt was always there to lend his support.
My wonderful readers were always there when I needed a push to get going or give me a laugh, and you have no idea how much that means. I know a lot of you are writers. But whatever your dream is that you’ve maybe shoved into a corner of your life, it’s time to bring it out front and center and make it a reality. If I did it, so can you.
Finally, it all comes down to my mom. Thank you for a lifetime of love and encouragement. Although this book’s so naughty, I don’t think you get to read it. Maybe Liam’s will be more tame.
But then, maybe not. Liam and Rosalind have been waiting a long time. I suspect they want to celebrate. Often and wherever they can.
Copyright © 2012, by Maureen Driscoll
Cover design by Jennifer Omner, Allpublications.com
Author photo by JBC Images, JBCimages.com
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This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales are strictly coincidental.