by Ava Stone
If he was truly willing to give all that up, simply to make her happy… It was the most selfless act she’d ever witnessed.
His arms wrapped tentatively around her. “Do be careful, ma minouche. If anything happened to you—”
Cordie touched her lips to his. Brendan moaned and Cordie cupped his jaw, pressing herself against him. His arms tightened and she relished the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest, the urgency of his mouth against hers. She didn’t want him to ever stop holding her, to ever stop kissing her.
But he did.
Brendan lifted his head. “What are you doing?”
Cordie snuggled against him. “Would you really give me my freedom?”
“I’ll do anything to see you happy,” he said softly. “Even let you walk away from me.”
Cordie closed her eyes and breathed him in. No one had ever loved her that much. “I don’t want to walk away from you,” she admitted. “I don’t want to be plagued with my family. I don’t want there to be phantom letters. I just want you, Brendan, for things to go back like they were mere days ago.”
He sighed, stroking her back. “I want that too, love. But you do have a family and there are phantom letters. And—”
Cordie pressed her lips against his, silencing his words. She didn’t want to think about all that was wrong in their world. Not right now.
She moved her hands to his waistcoat and slid one button through its hole. Brendan pulled back from her, surprise alighting his eyes. “Here?”
Life was too complicated to worry about the whens and wheres. Cordie nodded, undoing another button. He groaned, leaned forward, and claimed her mouth. His tongue brushed against her lips and Cordie ran her hands along his chest. His muscles tense at her touch, making her yearn for more.
He felt it too. Brendan’s quick hands unclasped the fastenings of her gown and it soon hung loosely about her shoulders. His lips sought hers and he eased her back on the settee, settling his knee between her thighs as he rose above her. He pulled the gown beneath her breasts, sliding the fabric against her sensitive nipples. He teased one peak with the rough edge of his fingertip. It tightened, sending a rush of ecstasy to her core.
One leg dangled over the edge of the settee, opening her to the cool air. Cordie thought she might come undone. She arched against his knee, wanting him closer. He nipped at her bottom lip and tugged at the hem of her gown. Then his hand slid up her leg, sending warm shivers racing across her skin.
Brendan lifted his head only to smile at her. “My adventurous wife.” Then he freed himself from his trousers and nudged at her slick entrance. “Say you’ll never leave me.”
She shook her head, pledging herself to him for all time. “I’ll never leave you.”
He entered her in one thrust, and Cordie clutched tightly around him. She never wanted this to end. Brendan’s lips found the tender skin at the base of her neck and she couldn’t help but moan beneath him.
He nibbled at her neck, teased her nipples with his tongue, then blew against them. Feminine power raced through her blood and her core pulsed around his length. He began to saw himself into her over and over, causing the music room to spin around them. Cordie closed her eyes and he delicious pressure built inside her.
“Ah, love,” Brendan whispered. “That’s it. Let go, Cordie.”
His words unleashed the last hold she had on her sanity. The room stopped spinning and she dissolved into a million pieces.
Lost in her own state of bliss, Cordie fell limp as Brendan emitted a guttural groan and then collapsed upon her. He nuzzled her neck and pulled her tightly to him. “Cordie, I love you.”
She sighed, running her hands over his back. She loved him. She’d never stop and she’d never leave him. “Me too.”
~ 36 ~
A sennight passed, then a fortnight, but there was no word from Gregory. Cordie tried not to think about the letters that were just waiting to destroy her happiness. Though neither she nor Brendan mentioned them, their existence still loomed in the back of her mind. And while there was no word about those letters, Cordie found herself awash in other correspondence.
Dear Cordie,
I am so, so, so sorry. I do not even deserve your forgiveness. This is all my fault. I did not mean to tell your brothers where you were, but the lieutenant is a terrible, ruthless man and he was relentless in his search for you. The man actually threatened my person and I was so frightened, everything just spilled out of me. I am the worst sort of friend, and I will never forgive myself for your current predicament.
My only hope is that you will find happiness with Lord Clayworth. Captain Avery says you seemed happy when he last visited and I pray that is true.
I suppose you will not return to London until next season. Please know that my thoughts and prayers are with you.
Your unworthy friend,
Phoebe Greywood
Cordie shook her head as she reread the letter. No one had ever called Tristan a terrible, ruthless man before. It was hard to imagine. He must have really scared poor Phoebe. She sent back a quick note, assuring her friend that she held her blameless and that, all things considered, she was quite happy with her circumstances.
My dearest Cordelia,
Please tell me you are well. Ever since Caroline wrote me of your elopement, I have been so worried about you. I still cannot believe that you ran off with Lord Clayworth, of all people. I will not rest at ease until I hear from you. If you are in trouble, my door is always open to you, my dearest friend.
Alexander and I have chosen to stay in Hampshire for the remainder of my confinement, away from the vindictive eyes and wagging tongues of society. Sometimes it is hard to realize that I once considered so many of those people friends. I have a new outlook on life.
Though this is not the path I would have ever imagined for myself, I am not sorry for the outcome. It is good I did not have a choice in the matter, or I would have done something foolish and honorable, and been positively unhappy with my lot. Alexander is everything I never knew I needed, and I would never trade him for respectability.
I am certain you have heard disturbing things in regards to my household, and I assure you they are all true. It is shocking, I know, but I truly could not be happier. My step-daughter, Poppy, is a delight, and I do not know how I would have survived the last few difficult weeks without her.
All I wish for now is to see you again, to relieve my mind of your circumstances. Please do not delay in your response. I am on pins and needles, awaiting your reply.
Your devoted friend,
Olivia Everett
Everett Place – Brockenhust, Hampshire
Livvie was pregnant? What wonderful news. Though Cordie wasn’t necessarily surprised. The duke didn’t seem capable of keeping his hands off her. It was a relief to know that despite everything Olivia had been through, she’d found peace in Hampshire. Perhaps she could convince Brendan to make the trip to visit her friend. It would be so nice to see Livvie again. However, no trips to anywhere would be possible until Rosamund’s wedding plans were solidified.
Her sister-in-law begged nearly every day to be taken to London to fill her trousseau, to which Brendan would rub his temples as if to stave off a headache. Cordie could understand the girl’s desire, though. Every young bride wanted everything to be just so. Rosamund was no different. After enduring the girl’s relentless pleas, Cordie finally agreed to talk to Brendan herself.
She found him in his study, a full glass of whiskey in front of him, looking as if he’d just lost his dearest friend. His shoulders slumped forward and his brow was drawn tight.
Cordie closed the door behind her and rushed to his side. “Brendan, what is the matter? You never drink in the middle of the day.”
He closed his eyes and pushed a letter across the desk towards her. Cordie snatched it up and read.
Clayworth,
I am sorry to inform you that the letters you seek are not at Rufford Hall. The estate has been
tirelessly scoured from top to bottom, but there is no evidence of your family’s perfidy in Nottinghamshire. Likewise, I have traveled to London to search Avery House, with the same unfortunate result.
I do wish, for my sister’s sake, I had better news to offer you. In the event that someone else finds the evidence you seek, I do hope that you will take Cordelia’s well-being under consideration. You should send her to me so that I can look after her. If you are found out, only distancing yourself from my sister will save her.
Avery
Short, concise, and filled with just a touch of condemnation. Cordie sighed and looked up to find her husband regarding her with pain-filled eyes. “I won’t ever send you to them. I’ll figure something else out.”
She dropped the letter and knelt at Brendan’s side. “There’s no need to send me anywhere. My place is with you.”
“Not at the gallows,” he barked. Then he winced and caressed her cheek with his fingers. “I didn’t mean to yell.”
Cordie ran her hand along his waistcoat. “Brendan, this means nothing. Marina has been gone for half a decade. Don’t you think if she gave the letters to someone intent on doing you harm, they would have already used them? Just because Greg can’t find them doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. We can’t live like that.”
“Cordie,” he said, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
She shook her head. “Let’s leave for a while. Rose is anxious to go to London and I’m sure Thomas would like the adventure. We could go to the theatre and shop and—”
“Pretend that none of this is happening?”
“Nothing is happening. Only in our minds.”
His face softened a bit. “Do you want to go to London?”
“I’d like to make Rose happy.”
“And what about you?”
She grinned at him, hoping to lighten some of his burdens. “Well, I would certainly love to show off my husband. I will be the envy of every woman in London to have caught the elusive Lord Adonis.”
He groaned, but it was playful and not of the pain-filled variety. “You know I hate that.”
Cordie giggled and ran her fingers up his chest. “Poor Brendan. It must be such a trial to be so handsome and sought after.”
He clutched her fingers in his hand. “I only care for you.”
“Then take me to London. It will be good for all of us to change our scenery, if only for a little while.”
“As you wish.” He smiled at her, warming her soul.
“And after Rose’s wedding, I’d like very much to travel to Hampshire.”
He laughed. “I thought after Scotland you were ready to give up travel forever, love.”
“Well, I’ve heard from Livvie. Brendan, she’s expecting. Isn’t that grand? She and Kelfield are spending her confinement at Everett Place, and I do miss her dreadfully.”
He leaned forward in his seat and cupped her jaw. “Whatever will make you happy, my lovely wife.”
***
Watching Rose bound up the steps to his Mayfair home did bring a smile to Brendan’s face. Thomas dashed out of the coach and followed Rose into the house on Hertford Street.
He supposed he should have brought them to London before now, if only to see the sights. The two of them had excitedly chatted nearly the entire way, while Cordie slept on Brendan’s shoulder.
His wife had been fairly weary as of late and he was starting to worry about her. He gently touched her cheek to rouse her from her slumber. Cordie blinked her eyes open, then yawned. “Are we here?” she asked, stretching one arm above her head.
“We are indeed,” Brendan said with a frown. “How are you feeling, love?”
“Just a bit tired.” She leaned forward and kissed his chin. “I know that look. Please don’t worry about me.”
“It’s not even possible for me to stop,” he mumbled, climbing from the coach and offering her his hand.
Cordie smiled at him, brightening the dreary, overcast day above them. “I’ve never been here. I can hardly wait to see it.”
“Only the new green parlor is worth seeing, according to Caroline. Feel free to refurbish as you see fit.”
He followed her into the house and nodded curtly to Higgins, who held out a silver salver. “Your correspondence, Lord Clayworth.”
“How is it even possible we already have invitations?” he grumbled.
Cordie laughed. “I did write Lady Staveley to tell her we’d be arriving.”
Well, that explained it then. Brendan scooped up the pile of invitations and handed them to his wife. “Decide what you’d like to attend, love, and let me know.”
“We’re only here for shopping, Brendan.”
“Not if you’ve already forewarned Caroline. We’ll have to attend something, or we’ll never enjoy a moment’s worth of peace.”
***
He was right about that. Cordie looked from one invitation to another. The most respected families in London requested their presence in one form or another. It wouldn’t do to ignore them all. She was lucky they wanted to have anything to do with her, after her scandalous elopement. Lady Staveley, it appeared, had been quite busy.
She stopped when she opened a card bearing the Astwick crest, nearly dropping the invitation to the floor once she read it. Heavens! Well, they couldn’t ignore this particular soiree. Both Ladies Astwick were hosting the event in honor of Lord Clayworth and his new bride. All of society would undoubtedly be in attendance.
She would have to face the same people who made such a fuss over Livvie’s marriage to Kelfield, the same people who’d made her friend’s life nearly unbearable. Panic began to set in and Cordie’s stomach turned queasy at the thought. Perhaps hiding out in Derbyshire wasn’t such a bad idea.
~ 37 ~
“Have you heard from Rob?” Chet asked as they took their seats in Astwick’s box at Astley’s Amphitheatre.
Brendan shook his head, a bit distracted by his wife’s health. He’d wanted to cancel the outing with his old friend, but Cordie had insisted he and Thomas attend since Chet would have his two step-sons with him. She also promised she would feel better in the morning. He wished he believed her. Tomorrow he would insist Doctor Watts pay her a call.
“Well,” the marquess’ voice boomed. “It seems Lydia is expecting again.”
That got Brendan’s attention. “Little Laurel is only a few months old.”
“Three children in as many years,” Chet agreed with a grin. “Our old friend is making up for lost time.”
“Apparently.”
“Carteret seems to think he won’t stop ‘til he gets a son.”
Chet’s youngest step-son sucked in a breath. “Ya promised Mama ya wouldna say anything about Uncle James anymore.”
The marquess ruffled the young boy’s hair and winked. “This time it wasn’t anything unkind, Ewan. Now turn around or you’ll miss the show.”
All three boys sat forward in their seats, and Brendan enjoyed seeing the enthusiasm in Thomas’ countenance. He’d try to make sure his nephew got the most out of the evening. “You promised Hannah you wouldn’t say anything else ruthless about her brother?” At one point it had been his favorite pastime.
Chet shrugged. “I suppose he’s grown on me, and he does love his sister and our boys.”
Brendan shook his head. He had brother-in-law troubles of his own. “I would trade you Lord Carteret for Lord Avery any day of the week.” At least Carteret always had his sister’s best interests at heart, misguided as he may have been in the past.
Chet settled back in his seat, smiling indulgently as Ewan squealed with delight when the first horses and riders entered the amphitheatre. “That bad, huh? I didn’t know anyone would be willing to take Carteret off my hands.”
The marquess’ oldest boy looked over his shoulder at the two men and Chet chuckled. “All right, Alasdair, there’s no need to tell your mother about that last one.” Then he refocused on Brendan, his light
eyes more serious than usual. “So, is it the brother you object to? Or the sister?”
Brendan snorted. Only Chet would dare ask him that question. It came from years of playing the role as his older brother. “Weren’t you the one who spread our romantic tale throughout Town?”
“Aye, that’s why I’m asking.”
With a sigh, Brendan met his friend’s eyes. “Cordie is perfect for me. I am much more fortunate this time around. She is the wife I always should have had.”
Chet nodded. “I am glad to hear it. And she has pulled off quite the miracle, your wife.”
“Oh?”
“Mother adores her. I had been worried the girl was the devil incarnate to have garnered such blind loyalty from the old dragon.”
Brendan grinned. Lady Astwick was a bit of a dragon, though she saved most of her barbs for her only remaining son. “Is that why she and Hannah are hosting this soiree?”
“I didn’t have a prayer of stopping them. Ever since Caroline told them you were coming back to Town, they’ve been making plans and sending out invitations and—”
“What if we’d sent our regards?”
“You would never ignore a summons from my mother.”
True, no one would. Still… “I think something is wrong with Cordie.”
The three boys cheered wildly at an acrobatic stunt Brendan had somehow missed. He turned his attention briefly to the center of the amphitheatre where a woman stood on the back of a horse, her arms outstretched towards the audience.
“Why do you think something is wrong?” Chet asked.
“It’s her health. I think she’s hiding something from me.” He’d catch her in pain, but whenever she noticed him, she’d feign a bright smile and pretend as though everything was fine. “It’s maddening.”
Chet chuckled. “Welcome to the world of marriage, my friend.”
