Time After Time

by Elizabeth Boyce

  She let out a strangled gasp when he suddenly tugged her down to the blanket and pulled her onto his lap.

  “It looks like you need more convincing,” he whispered, his hot breath wafting over her, sending a quivering sensation down her belly. Then he claimed her mouth with his, and she drifted her hands up his bare chest to link around his neck, offering herself up to him.

  She dimly felt him unbuttoning her gown with a tenderness that was at odds with the wild hunger of his kisses. She’d been waiting to have him kiss her again and she was glad, eager, to let him do what he wanted with her, to feel the heady pleasure he gave her.

  When he plunged his tongue deep in her mouth, she moaned with delight and held him tighter, loving the feel of his warm, naked skin beneath her hands. She started to move her hands over his broad shoulders, and he lifted his mouth from hers to kiss the area just below her chin.

  “Yes. Touch me, my sweet nymph. Let me feel your hands on me,” he rasped against her throat.

  For once, the nickname he’d given her sounded apt, for Penelope felt rather like a wicked nymph enticing this warrior to share her world in the woods.

  She wanted Lucas to be in her world. She always had.

  Penelope let her hands skim down his back, his taut muscles leaping in reaction to her touch. She was so enthralled with the feel of his naked skin that she barely noticed him shoving her gown down to her waist. Then he pressed open-mouthed kisses down her neck and collarbone, and she stiffened at the new intimacy his caresses demanded.

  “Lucas, are you sure … ?”

  “Yes,” he muttered. “Bloody hell, yes.” His eyes were glittering with need. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first met you.” He sucked her breast through her chemise, dampening the sheer fabric, tonguing her nipple as he caressed the other one with his hand, fondling her flesh beneath the thin covering.

  Penelope clutched his dark head, not knowing whether she was pulling him to her or pushing him away. All she knew was that Lucas was touching her in ways she never thought a man would want to. Especially not this handsome man who had finally walked into her life, turning it upside down, awakening a dormant part of her she hadn’t realized was there until he coaxed it to life with his heated touch and demanding kisses.

  He tugged her chemise down, exposing her breasts to his dark, hungry gaze. She squirmed on his lap in embarrassment, then stopped immediately when she heard him groan.

  “Don’t stop,” he murmured hotly against the slope of her breast. He positioned her to sit fully on top of the hard bulge in his trousers, urging her to move as he sucked her breast so hard she cried out with the sheer pleasure of it.

  “Do you like that, nymph?” he rasped against her skin.

  “Oh, yes … ” she whispered.

  “Should I do it again?” he asked, his tongue laving the sensitive tip of her breast, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.

  “Please, Lucas … ” She pressed herself against him.

  A choked laugh escaped him. “Anything to please you, sweetheart.” Then he sucked at her breast again, making her moan.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she started to rub herself against his hard thighs shamelessly, straddling him, trying to ease the ache building up inside her that seemed to be concentrated on the damp area between her legs. She cradled his dark head as he released her erect nipple, and his mouth proceeded to suck at her other breast while he caressed the one his mouth just left with his hand, rolling her sensitized flesh between his fingers.

  She was lost in the sea of desire that Lucas seemed determined to drown them in as his mouth tugged at her breast and his hands gripped her waist, urging her to keep rubbing against his aroused manhood.

  “Yes, nymph. Like that … God, that feels so good,” he whispered against her breast.

  Penelope sighed and closed her eyes to savor the feeling. Good? It felt wonderful! So wonderful. She held onto him, her head thrown back, giving him access so he could kiss his way up her throat and jaw then lick his way back down to devour her aching breasts once more.

  She moaned deep in her throat when she felt him grip her hips more firmly, urging her to move faster. Pure instinct drove her now. She rubbed herself on him harder, faster, against the place she most wanted him as her heart thundered and she raced blindly, frantically, toward whatever it was he offered that she knew was just beyond her reach until … he stopped.

  “Lucas?” she whispered, lost.

  He groaned as he kissed her mouth again. Hungrily, fiercely, deeply. He tore his mouth from hers and grabbed her hands, kissing each of her fingers. Then he lifted his head.

  “Penelope,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “We have to stop. Otherwise you won’t have any choice but to marry me.”

  She opened her eyes and saw him before her, his eyes raking her naked breasts, exposed to him in the harsh midday sun.

  Penelope squirmed, barely noticing his hiss as she slid off him, kneeled and turned her back to him as she started adjusting her chemise and gown. She had behaved like some doxy, and he surely would think her no better than one now that she’d proven herself to be a wanton.

  She flinched when she felt his hands on her shoulders, then she felt him fastening the buttons of her gown at her back. The kiss he pressed on the nape of her neck did much to soothe her wounded feelings.

  When he finished with her buttons, he pulled her between his thighs, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his chin rubbing the top of her head as they sat on the blanket, the gentle breeze ruffling her hair.

  He kissed her temple. It was a gentle, tender caress. “You were wonderful, sweetheart,” he said in a deep, reassuring voice. “There’s no shame in what we did. It’s only natural — it’s obvious we desire one another.”

  Reassured, she snuggled in his arms. “Why did you stop? You didn’t have to,” she asked in a small voice.

  His arms tightened around her. “Believe me, stopping was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he said hoarsely. Then he sighed against her hair. “Our betrothal was not of our choosing, Penelope, but if we’re to marry, I want it to be our decision. I will not ruin you to force you into marrying me.”

  • • •

  Lucas realized he meant the words. He might have considered ruining her to force her hand merely an hour ago, but now he wanted more from her. He wanted her to marry him because she wanted to marry him.

  He cursed himself for being a fool. But no matter how contrary it was to his own goal, he could not bring himself to force marriage on the sweet creature in his arms. Life had already forced too many things on her.

  Penelope turned in his arms, facing him as she kneeled between his legs. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  Then she kissed him tenderly, sweetly. He responded instinctively, driving his tongue into her soft mouth until he felt his control slipping away again, prompting him to lift his mouth from hers. He couldn’t take much more of this. It took all of his control to keep from laying her down on the blanket and taking her right there, in front of God and country.

  “Penelope,” he groaned, gripping her shoulders to keep her at arm’s length. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

  Her smile was as bright as the sun framing her lovely form. “I think I have some idea.”

  She kissed his cheek, turned around again and snuggled against him, and all he could do was hold her against his chest. He wondered how long he could hold her before he snapped. But she felt so good in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. God, but she made him daft. What would it take to make this woman trust him?

  Chapter Eight

  Hugh Maitland sat in his study reading contracts of sale when he heard the door open.

  “Ah, son, you’re back early,” he said to the well-dressed, tall, young man who had entered the stu
dy. “How was your trip from London? Have a seat.” He gestured to one of the two red velvet chairs in front of his desk.

  David Maitland’s lean build, brown hair and hazel eyes marked him as the next Baron Maitland. Hugh was certain his son would do justice to the title, unlike Hugh’s brother, Edmund. In all of David’s twenty-eight years, Hugh had never had any reason to worry that his son would ever tarnish the Maitland name. But he had sent David to London for the Season, and the fact that he had returned home with the Season barely beginning was not a good sign.

  David took a seat across from him, his features grim. “I have terrible news, Father. Ravenstone has found Penelope. All of London is talking about it. I thought it prudent to come here and tell you personally.”

  Hugh carefully set the contracts of sale aside. “So he has come. Edmund warned me of this. I would say that with Walker’s current financial state, the idiot would welcome the devil himself if it would save that house of his.

  “We cannot let your cousin wed that man. He is dangerous. I am quite certain he is bent on revenge.”

  “I doubt there is anything we can do about it.” David sighed. “He is already in Bouth.”

  “He is out to get me,” Hugh whispered. “He couldn’t take it out on Edmund, and now I’m his target.”

  David stilled. “I thought we had not sent communication to Penelope all these years to protect her, not you.”

  “Do not be an idiot, son,” Hugh muttered, shaking his head. “I couldn’t care less what happens to the chit. This is about the Maitland name. The Ravenstone line is tainted. His father killed himself, you know.”

  David gaped at him. “Ravenstone’s father died in a hunting accident. Everyone knows that. But I have heard rumors that Ravenstone himself is responsible.”

  Hugh shook his head again. “Leonard Drake died because Edmund backed out of the betrothal. Leonard killed himself, and now Ravenstone wants revenge. He will destroy us.”

  David stood up. “I have to warn Penelope.”

  Hugh slammed his fist on his desk. “It is you who should be warned, son. This is only the beginning. Ravenstone will make sure I end up a pauper, just like his father was when he killed himself.”

  “What about Penelope?”

  “Devil take Penelope!” Hugh roared. “Her father started this mess! If Edmund had not agreed to the betrothal in the first place, we would not even be having this conversation.”

  “You care more about what Ravenstone will do to you than the damage he will do to an innocent young woman’s life?” David’s voice was so low that Hugh had to strain to hear him. “You didn’t cast Penelope and Aunt Eleanor out to protect them, did you? You wanted to hide Penelope to protect your inheritance.”

  “This is the way of the world, son. One day, all of this will be yours. It is your duty to protect it.”

  David stood. “It is my duty to protect my kin, as it is yours, being the head of the family. It is high time I do so. I am going to visit her.”

  Hugh stood as well. “You stay away from her, son! You have to protect your inheritance! Don’t you dare leave!”

  David walked out of the study without a backward glance.

  Hugh reined in his temper and went to the small table where the brandy decanter was laid and poured a glass.

  Ravenstone was here. If Hugh didn’t do something, it was only a matter of time before everything he’d worked for was taken away from him. Though Hugh had not been lucky enough to be the firstborn, he had always been the one to make sure the Maitland fortune was secure. He cursed his brother’s soul to perdition for this new complication in his life.

  All Hugh had ever wanted was to reestablish the Maitland name. He’d convinced Edmund to back out of the betrothal contract, which would have linked the family name to a tainted and impoverished line. Edmund never did think before acting. He did not deserve the barony.

  It was Hugh who had always deserved the title. He’d been responsible for making sure his reckless brother did not squander away the family fortune. He’d worked hard to make sure his son had no taint of a scandal and had only the best education. He’d sent David to London to find the best of brides and to let the past finally rest.

  His arthritic fingers trembled as they held onto the brandy glass. Ravenstone would not take away what he’d worked so hard for all his life. It was too bad the problems Edmund had brought to the family did not die with him, but Hugh was not afraid of Ravenstone.

  He sipped his brandy as he thought of his next move.

  • • •

  “Are you sure this is going to work?”

  Penelope sighed. “For the eleventh time, Colin, all I can say is that it has to work.” She eyed the jam tartlets laid out on the low table in the library. “I wouldn’t normally engage in such extreme practices, but this isn’t a normal situation. Can you check with Gertie whether Mr. Henson has arrived yet?”

  “I am sure Gertie will announce Mr. Henson’s arrival.” He looked anxiously from his seat beside her on the settee toward the door. “We should have thought of this before, really. If this works, then we wouldn’t need Ravenstone anymore.”

  “We never needed Ravenstone to get us out of this mess.” Penelope sighed again. “Don’t tell him that, though. He likes to think he came here to save us.”

  Colin’s gaze shifted to her. “You like him, don’t you?”

  God help her, she did. Who could not like a man with Lucas’s integrity and sense of duty? He was helpfully advising Papa to get out of the financial hole he’d been living in for the past couple of years. With Lucas’s advice on investments, Colin might yet have an inheritance. Her fiancé was what the nobility should be and almost never were: honorable, steady and dependable.

  Any other man wouldn’t have bothered to honor a betrothal contract in which both signatories were already dead, but here he was. Whatever else happened between them after this debacle, she had to remember to thank him for all the help he’d given to a family who, mere days ago, were complete strangers to him.

  How lucky she was to have known someone like Lucas in her life. If only he wasn’t here just to fulfill his duty. “Yes,” she said, “he is a good man.”

  “So when are you marrying him?”

  She was saved from having to form a reply when Gertie opened the door with a foreboding expression. “Mr. Henson is here to see you, Miss Penelope.”

  “Thank you, Gertie, please show him in.” She turned to her brother. “You better leave. I shall tell you how it went later.”

  “I’ll be right outside,” he reminded her before walking out of the library.

  Mr. Henson entered a few minutes after Colin left, his face as grim as the gray coat and trousers that hugged his thin form. He sat down without bothering to greet her and immediately scoffed down a jam tartlet.

  “I trust,” he said, while munching on the confection, “that you have come up with the money?”

  She watched him swallow and waited until he’d grabbed another from the tray in front of him before speaking. “No, sir, but I have asked you to call on us hoping we can agree on some sort of bargain.”

  Mr. Henson emitted a sharp crack of laughter. “There’s no chance of that, my dear. Unless you have reconsidered making your sister’s services available to me, we have nothing to talk about.”

  “I will never let Sarah near a monster like you.”

  Mr. Henson paused in the act of grabbing yet another tartlet. “Such spirit. I must say, Miss Maitland, I have never before considered your charms to be palatable. I prefer my partners to be young, but your courage and determination is something I would like to breed into my future children. I am hopeful your sister has inherited those same traits.”

  He made a move to come closer to her, and Penelope held out a hand to stop him in his tracks. “I wouldn’t do that i
f I were you, Mr. Henson.”

  “Why not? You want to save this house, don’t you?” He licked his lips and walked slowly toward the settee where she was seated.

  She looked at him steadily. “How are you feeling, Mr. Henson? Did you like those jam tartlets?”

  Mr. Henson looked confused. “What do you mean, how am I feeling?” He glanced at the tray, and then back at her as an expression of horrified comprehension took over his gaunt features. “You murderous wench! You poisoned me, didn’t you?” He sank on the chair and started breathing heavily.

  She stood up and towered over him. “Some of the medicines my family makes can be poisonous if administered in large doses. I have the antidote to the poison you just ingested. But you have to take it within ten minutes or it will be too late.” She held up a vial in one hand and a contract in the other. “Are you willing to bargain with me now, Mr. Henson?”

  “You will pay for this,” he choked out.

  “Perhaps,” she allowed. “But you will sign this contract if you want to live long enough to ensure that I pay for my actions. I will not give you the antidote otherwise. Besides, you’ll find the terms are fair for everyone concerned. We pay you back in monthly installments and you get your money back within two years.” She shook the antidote. “This is in your best interest, Mr. Henson. I suggest you act on it.”

  Penelope shoved the contract in front of him and he hastily signed it. Once she was certain everything was in good order, she walked to her stepfather’s desk and shoved the contract in the drawer. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  “The antidote,” Mr. Henson rasped. “You said you would give me the antidote.”

  She turned back to him. “What, this?” She held up the vial again. “This is just lemonade. I did not poison you. You may leave now.”

  “You bitch!” he roared as he angrily strode to her.

  “Take one more step toward my fiancée, and I will make sure you regret it.” The chill in Lucas’s voice from the doorway stopped Mr. Henson in his tracks. She watched Lucas walk into the library with deceptive calm. “Penelope might not have the stomach to hurt anyone, but I will have no trouble beating you to a bloody pulp if you dare to treat my future countess with such disrespect again.”