by Terry Long
“I’ve given her laudanum, though not nearly the same doses as I normally would a younger patient. She might wake to chat, if you’re patient enough to wait. She sleeps and wakes at inopportune times.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Michael said in a tone that implied he’d like some privacy. Dr. Reeves must have understood because he nodded and wandered back down the hall.
Michael stood at the door to the lonesome room, his gaze affixed on the small form that lay lithely on the narrow bed. All this time, Ally had only wanted to see her grandmother. I’m such an arse.
He walked inside, mindful of the scuffling sounds his boots made. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, as blue and vivid as Ally’s.
“Madam.” He gave her a low bow. “Michael Langdon.” He stepped closer. “How are you faring?”
No reply. He tried again, much louder this time, in case she hadn’t heard.
“I know who you are. Come closer and sit down.”
“Yes, madam.” His eyes widened when a throaty cough came from her. “Is there anything I could do for you, some water perhaps?”
“Sit down,” she instructed.
Since she was on a sick bed, Michael obeyed without a word, something he was never prone to do.
Ally’s grandmother studied him with unblinking eyes, making him uncomfortable under her close scrutiny. He noticed every time she shifted her head, she erupted into a fit of coughs. But that didn’t appear to pose any difficulty for her. When finished, she went right on and continued to plainly stare at him.
After what seemed to be an eternity, she croaked, “You’re a rogue.”
Amused by her choice of names for him, Michael said, “You may call me that, but I would much rather like to be called Michael.” He never thought himself a rogue. An ogre, a goat and a pig, perhaps, but never a rogue.
Ally’s grandmother gave him a weak smile. Everything about her was frail save for the intensity in her blue eyes, which was pointedly sharp, suggesting that she was all but delicate in her nature.
“Ally’s a good girl,” she blurted, holding his gaze. “She doesn’t have anyone left.”
“She has a grandmother.”
The old woman harrumphed and coughed as a result. When finished, she said, “I won’t be with her forever. Look at me. I’d be surprised if I make it another day.” Another set of coughs came. “I arranged to have my granddaughter relocated from America to England as soon as I received the horrible news that my daughter had died. It was hard for Ally; she was not used to our ways. She left all of her friends, everything she was accustomed to, but worse, she had only a harridan like me to teach her propriety.”
Though Michael knew where she was going with all this, he thought it wasn’t necessary. He already planned to make everything better for Ally. But as he continued to listen to his wife’s past, he found himself smiling.
“I have to admit,” she went on, “it took a toll on me mostly since I never gave a damn about what others thought.” Ally’s grandmother let out a little chuckle and paused to cough some more. “But for my only granddaughter, I had to at least try to be mindful.”
Michael grinned. “Well, your attempt was not for nil. You did an excellent job, madam. Ally is simply…perfect.” Damn, she was, wasn’t she? Pride made his chest swell to the brink of exploding.
“When we’re tending to our garden, Ally’s propriety always slips. I pretend that my hearing isn’t sound.”
“She does have a way with words when she’s furious with me,” he admitted on a chuckle.
“With you?” It was her turn to grin. The woman seemed to fully embrace the fact that Ally used derogatory words toward her own husband. She was an adorable little monster, Ally’s grandmother. He found himself exchanging grins with the old woman.
“Do you love her?” she asked, unexpectedly.
Michael suddenly lost his smile. Returning the woman’s intelligent gaze, he repeated her question in his head again and again.
Do I love her? Do I love the woman whom I’d abducted, bargained to marry, forced into my bed, criticized at every opportunity, and held prisoner? Lord, but he was a beast. Michael had never came close to causing a woman to weep, any that he knew of, of course, but with Ally, he didn’t know why he wanted to meddle with her, provoke her, and goad her. He just knew he did. Good God, had I loved her then, and only made poor excuses to have her? He’d never know the answer to that, but he did know he loved her. He loved her.
With great conviction, he answered, “With all of my being.”
Ally’s grandmother nodded before her eyes drifted close. The lines on her face smoothed out. Her eyelids were covered with dark veins, as were her hands that rested limply on her abdomen. She looked content in her rest. Michael guessed the laudanum was taking its effect. He slowly stood.
“You are a devilishly handsome one,” she uttered in a whisper, causing Michael to sit back down. “But I know my Ally didn’t choose you because of your good looks.”
“She didn’t choose me, madam, I chose her,” he replied, and the woman’s eyes snapped open. She let out a wobbly laugh, and her coughing spasms did not fail to follow. Michael shouldn’t have said that, he thought, as she wheezed with laughter.
Covering her cold hand with his, Michael gave it a gentle pat. “On behalf of Ally, I shall send a proper carriage to escort you to London on the morrow, madam. I will provide whatever necessary to aid you back to your absolute vigor. You will be fit to fight a lion in no time, I assure you.”
Ally’s grandmother assessed him with a remarkable gaze laced with maternal warmth. Not many moved him this way. Though he’d just met her, he could have sworn he’d known her all his life. Michael returned her weak smile.
“I shall see you on the morrow, madam. Ally will be delighted. Good night.” He stood and presented her another bow before he turned to leave. She offered a feeble smile in return and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.
With barely just enough light to travel home, Michael rode back to London hard. He contemplated how he’d tell Ally the good news. Staring out into the obscurity of the roadway, a few ideas came to mind.
One, he’d tell her she would see her grandmother the very next day.
Two, tell her that her grandmother would be living with them hencefoward.
Three, tell her he had a surprise for her.
Michael smiled. He couldn’t select one from the choices, didn’t know what to do quite yet, but he was sure of one thing. He was sure as hell going to get a kiss.
Chapter Twenty
The four poster bed slowly came into view. So did the tiny form that lay cuddled amidst a pile of sheets. Her even breaths filled the quiet room, strangely making it difficult for him to catch his breath.
After much deliberation for fear of disturbing Ally in her peaceful slumber, Michael removed his boots and set them aside quietly. His tunic followed shortly after. Accustomed to his nightly routine, his fingers fumbled with the drawstrings of his buckskins, ready to peel them off. One glance at his sleeping wife made him stop. He’d keep them on tonight, for Ally’s sake.
So much for that kiss he was going to get, he thought with a grimace as he strolled over to join her. Nothing ever went according to plan where Ally was concerned.
Michael strived not to rouse her as he put one knee onto the bed. It creaked under his weight and he froze in his awkward position. Ally stirred, sighing as she did so, and turned on her side. At the endearing sound, a smile tugged at his mouth. The need to feel her body wracked him with newfound fervor. She shifted again and Michael used that moment to his advantage. He gathered a fistful of sheets and pried them away, slipping in next to her.
He snaked an arm around her waist and pressed his chest to her back, holding her against him. The contact ran through him like a delicious ripple of currents. The warmth from her body proved too much for him bear. Michael leaned over and grazed her cheek with his lips. She smelled the way a woman ought to, heavenly.
Ally gasped, tugging at his arm that detained her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Her voice, like a raspy cherub, made him smile. Her words, however, promptly wiped it away.
“Mr. Langdon!”
He feigned impatience and forced a sigh. “Sleeping.”
“In here? No!”
“Why the hell not?” he drawled. He kept her firmly locked in place so she couldn’t turn to see his grin. She felt good rubbing against him as she struggled to escape.
“Because…because, no!”
“That hardly qualifies as an answer, sweetheart.”
After much fidgeting and twisting, Ally dug her nails into his skin.
Michael gritted his teeth. “Stop that. Do you’ve any idea how much that hurts?”
She huffed in response. She still fought his hold.
“I’m exhausted,” he murmured over her head. “I just want to get a wink of sleep, that’s all.”
“Then go sleep in your chamber! You are most certainly not welcome here!”
“Quit squirming like that.”
Ally froze like a deer upon hearing a hound. Michael grinned into her hair. His arousal, firm and stiff, was pressed up against her sweet little backside.
“So,” he whispered into the darkness, “you’ll sleep now?”
She nodded.
He chuckled.
Ally dug her elbow into his side, causing him to laugh. Michael drew her closer and tightened his arm around her waist. “Try not to wriggle so much,” he warned, but hoped she’d defy him, as she usually did.
***
Ally could not fall asleep, even after half the hour had passed. His breath fanned her cheek, sending ripples of excitement coursing through her. His scent smelled of pleasant masculinity, highly arousing. Once his breath grew even, she snuggled closer. She craved the heat of his arm that burned through her nightgown, the warmth of his bare chest that pressed snugly behind her- God only knew why. Disgruntlement ran amuck through her tired mind while her chest filled with…delight? No, not delight. It couldn’t be.
Michael shifted behind her. Ally held her breath. Her pulse began a steady rhythm as he slowly leaned toward her, pressing his body closer. When he brushed his mouth against her ear, her heart just about pulverized, what with its clobbering against her ribs. Then his lips traveled lower, sprinkling light kisses over her cheek. With her chest nearly bursting and her eyes squeezed shut, Ally advised herself to remain motionless. Perhaps, soon, Michael would quit kissing her and would return to napping.
She continued feigning sleep for as long as she was able, but nature gave way after mere seconds more. She let out the mouthful of air she’d been holding like a fish flopping about without water, her breaths coming out in short bursts of gasps.
“I thought you were asleep,” Michael whispered, his tone laced with a bit of surprise.
It left her absolutely weak and baffled. Didn’t he detest her? Everything he had done up to date illustrated as much. Not immediately knowing how to respond to the peculiar man, she took a moment to ponder what to say.
She turned her head, flashing him the most pointed look she could muster, and snapped, “I was, you brute!” She was vastly disappointed at her lack of a witty remark, but impressed at how steady her voice sounded.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. I won’t wake you again.”
Averting her face to hide her astonishment, Ally settled back into position. Michael kept the arm he had draped over the curve of her hip in place. He didn’t seem inclined to explain his kisses. And God knows she wasn’t about to bring it up.
He had sounded earnest when she caught him off guard, yet affectionate and…he kissed her because he believed her asleep. The endearment he’d used left her wobbly as a fawn. Had she been on her feet, she wagered she’d turn into a puddle of water on the floor.
After some time, Ally wondered if he’d fallen asleep. She lifted his arm from her waist. As if to answer her unspoken question, Michael hauled her closer, against the hard planes of his chest. “Go to sleep,” he whispered. Ally stilled. Within minutes, she heard him snore.
Certain he was sound asleep, she relaxed in his hold. Come morning, perhaps all of this incongruity would make some sense. With that thought, she unintentionally snuggled closer to his warmth and shut her eyes.
When Ally opened them again, a warm chest pressed up against the side of her face. She moved her eyes higher, glimpsing the flat span of a man’s breast the size of both her hands. Her heart began a rapid beat. Higher, she caught the sight of a bare shoulder. Her stomach coiled. And higher, she stared right into the depths of Michael’s dark gaze. Her entire body hummed. Warmth swept within her, heating her bosoms, somersaulting in her belly.
His mouth curved up at the corners, presenting her a wolfish smile. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was trying to seduce her. Although he remained still, the gleam in his eyes suggested he was not the least bit disciplined. He wore the look of an untamed creature ready to pounce at the slightest movement.
Ally blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “You missed the sunrise.”
“It was well worth it.”
If she was astonished by his endearment and affection last night, she was thunderstruck now.
Left baffled and tongue-tied, Ally struggled to break the hold of the steel-like arms around her. He wouldn’t relent. Her ears burned when the side of her breast brushed against his forearm. Either he wasn’t aware of the contact or he simply didn’t comment on it, she’d never know, as he lay there, perfectly still.
Michael consented to let her sit up, but clasped one hand on her hip so she couldn’t leave the bed. His fingers tugged at the ends of her tendrils. “I like it down,” he murmured behind her. He carried on as if waking up next to her was a normal occurrence.
Ally’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Why was he behaving so agreeably? “I would like some privacy,” she announced. Oh, dear heavens! Why had I gone and said that? Her face grew hot with mortification. What a picture she painted for him; sitting over a chamber pot to take care of her bodily functions!
Thankfully, he eased off the bed. Michael surprised her by taking both her hands and pulling her along to stand with him.
“I’ll come back soon,” Michael said, pressing a light kiss onto her forehead. “I have something to tell you.”
Ally couldn’t bring herself to lift her eyes to meet his. The change in him unsettled her. His warm fingers lingered among her hands longer than necessary before releasing them. Without further ado, he made his way toward the connecting door, appearing like a half-naked god with his magnificent body.
What did he wish to discuss with her? Could it be something that would make some sense to his strange behavior? God, she hoped so.
After Abigail tucked the last pin into her curls, Ally glanced at her reflection. “Thank you. I like the loose style in which you fashioned my hair. The tighter chignon always makes me uncomfortable.”
Abigail flashed a grand smile for the praise.
Just then, Michael opened the connecting door and leaned against the frame with his hands in his pockets, his legs crossed at the ankles. Abigail lost her smile and fidgeted behind Ally. Her husband gave Abigail a quick nod of dismissal and the girl dropped a curtsy before bolting out without a backward glance.
As soon as they were alone, Michael sauntered over, keeping his eyes on her. Ally couldn’t help but notice the small smile that tugged at his lips, and the ends of his wavy, dark hair that came in contact with his neck. She wanted to run her fingers through it to see if it was as silky as it looked. Appalled at the direction her thoughts were headed, Ally berated herself. She hated him!
Michael took her by the shoulders, easing her to her feet. While one hand wrapped around her waist and brought her close, his other went to her hair. He began to remove one pin, and then another. A shiver ran down her spine. At her shudder, Michael brought her closer to his large body. He positioned
her to stand between his legs and his arm imprisoned her.
“What are you doing?” She shoved at him to break both his hold, as well as the trance he set upon her.
“I like it down.”
She slapped his hand away when he did not quit in his endeavor. “It isn’t seemly.”
He raised a brow.
“I cannot have my hair unbound. It goes against propriety.”
At that, he chuckled. “Your grandmother says you often do things against propriety, anyway. Your swearing for one thing.” Raking his fingers through her now unbound hair, he murmured, “Smells wonderful. Like strawberries.”
She tried to grasp the meaning behind his words, but her head seemed elsewhere this morning. “You…spoke to Nana?”
“I did.” He gently massaged the back of her neck. “No, better than strawberries.”
She wanted to shake him. “How did you speak to her? When?” She searched his face, not believing him for one minute. But believing him with all her being. He frustrated her beyond belief. “Mr. Langdon.”
Michael lifted her hair and let the strands fall through his fingers. “She called me a rogue.”
Ally frowned. “She isn’t wrong.” She slapped his hand away when he reached for her hair again.
“But, I think,” he said, pausing for a second. “She was rather fond of me.”
Ally snorted. “Nana would not like an arrogant man like—” She gave him the most powerful shove she could muster, and accompanied that with a glare.
He grinned. “You know damn well that your grandmother is the sort of woman who’d fancy a grandson like me.”
He looked so handsome smiling like that. Ally wanted to box his ears. She had to get away from here. Away from him. “I’m going to go to Dartford,” she announced before she could stop herself.
“No, you’re not.” His arm at her waist tightened, and he wound the other arm around her as well, as if longing to keep her standing between his legs forever.
