by Olivia Drake
The wistful note in his voice hurt her heart. No wonder he looked worried. His parents must have left him here in the care of servants for much of the time.
Before she could reassure him, Simon leaned over her to address the boy. “Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “I vow that if we travel to the city we’ll take you with us.” He grasped the boy’s hand and solemnly shook it. “There, that makes it official. And remember, a gentleman never breaks his promise.”
Nicholas looked delighted now, beaming at them both. “But who will be my governess now? Will it still be you … Aunt Annabelle?”
“Yes, most certainly. I would not have it otherwise.”
As she brushed a lock of hair from his brow, Nicholas abruptly gave a big yawn. Simon bore away the plate from the boy’s lap while Annabelle tucked him in. The instant Nicholas laid his head on the pillow, his eyes closed, and just like that, he fell fast asleep again.
Simon took the candle and they tiptoed out of the bedchamber, closing the door. As they walked through the shadowed schoolroom and went down the stairs, he wove his fingers through hers.
“You needn’t feel obliged to remain his governess,” he murmured. “We can hire someone else. You deserve to lead a life of leisure for once.”
She shook her head. “I’ve no wish to spend my days paying calls and fretting over what to wear. And I certainly wouldn’t be content if I was separated from Nicholas.” The wonder of it all washed over her again. “Oh, Simon, he’s going to be my nephew now, too. I couldn’t be happier.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Simon stopped to look at her. In the glow of the candle, the profound love in his expression made her heart beat faster. “Well, then,” he said. “I’m agreeable under one condition.”
“And what might that be?”
“You’ll have to arrange time in your busy schedule for your husband.”
Annabelle slid her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against his. “I have time right now.”
His chuckle sounded strained. He took a deep breath as if to clear his head. “Not in the middle of a party when I’m the host. When we make love for the first time, Annabelle, I intend to spend all night at it.”
“But I want you … please, my darling.”
She whispered the words against his lips. Keen to convince him, she brushed kisses over his face while stroking his hair. The scent and taste of him fed the rich flow of desire throughout her body. How she adored this man, how she wanted to make him as happy as he made her. Without conscious thought, she undulated her hips against his, seeking the wild pleasure he had given her once before.
She sensed the resistance in him as he waged a battle against his own base urges. Then abruptly he muttered, “Oh, hell. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 25
Hand in hand, they made haste through a maze of dim passageways. Within moments, Simon pulled her into a shadowed bedchamber and turned to lock the door. She had a glimpse of a large four-poster bed and masculine furnishings. Then there was no time to think, for he took her into his arms and subjected her to a deep, blatantly sensual kiss.
She reveled in the stroke of his tongue, the slide of his hands over her body. Her fingers sought the hard contours of muscles that were so different from her own softness. By the time he drew back slightly to nuzzle her cheek, they were both panting and fevered. Driven by the desire to touch his bare flesh, Annabelle pushed the coat from his shoulders. Simon helped her, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor as they continued to kiss and caress.
He turned her around and swiftly undid the buttons down the back of her gown. Then he loosened the strings of her corset, bending to feather his lips along her exposed skin. The warmth of his breath along her spine sent delicious tingles throughout her body. When the bodice hung loose, he paused, his fingers sliding partway inside to toy with the sides of her bare bosom.
“No pins this time?” he asked dryly.
Annabelle laughed a little at the memory, glancing over her shoulder at him. “None. Now do touch me, lest I die of impatience.”
He obliged by reaching fully inside the corset to play with her breasts. He weighed them in his palms and lightly rubbed the tips, causing a delicious heat that fed the hunger in her womb. She held her breath as he slid one hand downward over her belly until he brushed her privates. Much to her frustration, however, he stopped short of delving inside where she wanted him.
A moan rose from deep within her. Caught in the grip of a powerful yearning, she undulated her bottom against the placket of his trousers. A tremor ran through him as if he struggled to keep his passion in check. But she didn’t want him to hold back. She wanted him to immerse her in mindless bliss, and this time, to join her in that irresistible joy.
Shimmying out of her gown and undergarments, Annabelle peeled down her stockings and stepped out of her shoes. Simon stripped his shirt over his head and gave her a magnificent view of a broad chest dusted with dark hairs and the rippling muscles in his arms. Unable to resist, she rubbed her cheek against the bare expanse of his torso. His skin was hot and salty to her lips. All the while, he worked at the buttons of his trousers, uttering a low curse when one refused to open.
“Allow me…” Annabelle reached down to finish the task for him. As he shed the garment, she found herself transfixed by the sight of his engorged manhood. What little she knew of the act of lovemaking had come from eavesdropping on the sometimes ribald chatter of the servants. Simon was so large, though, it didn’t seem possible that he could fit inside her. Yet the very thought of allowing him to try caused a deep pulse of longing in her.
She melted in his arms while they engaged in another heated bout of kissing. It seemed perfectly natural for them to stand naked together, his member nestled against the peak of her thighs. She and Simon were meant for each other, and her desire for him flourished and grew until it became almost impossible to bear.
She moved her hips in open invitation. Against his mouth, she murmured, “Please … I’m ready. Don’t make me wait.”
With a guttural groan, he swept her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed. It was then that she saw the long, puckered scar on his left thigh. She lightly ran her fingertips over it, realizing the pain he must have suffered. “Oh, Simon! You’ve never told me what happened.”
“An unfortunate encounter with a Pashtun tribesman.”
“Does it ache often?”
“At times.” His eyes dark, he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “The best remedy is vigorous physical activity … like this.”
He settled himself beside her, took her in his arms, and proceeded to show how much he wanted her. She could not get enough of him; every taste, every touch only made her want him more. With his hand, he traced her curves up over her hips to her breasts and then cupped her face. “You are truly a gift from heaven,” he whispered.
He pressed her against the pillows and nuzzled her throat, his head moving down to commence a delightful exploration of her breasts. At the same time, his fingers strayed lower and he began to stroke her in the way that made her wild with passion. She gave herself up to the wanton sensations, her body straining to reach the tantalizing promise of rapture.
Just when she found the tension intolerable, he came over her and she felt the pressure of his entry. There was a brief moment of discomfort as her body adjusted to his. He held himself still, his rigid arms braced on either side of her, his breathing deep and fast. She sighed his name as a marvelous sense of fullness washed through her. How astonishing it was to be one with him. In all her life, she had not felt complete until this moment.
He cradled her face in his hands. “Annabelle,” he whispered. “My love.”
The swift beating of his heart against her breasts matched the wild rhythm of her own. Holding her gaze, he began to move in her, slowly at first and then faster. Each plunge of his hips drove her deeper into madness. Her lashes drifted shut as all of her awareness focused on the place where they
were joined. Uttering throaty sounds of delight, she clung to him as her anchor. No longer could she form a coherent thought; there was only the dark intensity of ever-mounting pleasure. When the storm broke at last, she shuddered from a wave of white-hot ecstasy. She was dimly aware of Simon kissing her, whispering impassioned words of love. Then he gave one last powerful thrust and groaned in the throes of his own release.
In the aftermath, they lay closely entwined as their breathing slowed and their blood cooled. His face was buried in her hair, and the heavy weight of his body enhanced her sense of satisfaction. She felt as if the consummation of their love had been more binding than any vows spoken in church. Replete and happy, she could have drifted forever in the contentment of his arms.
He rolled onto his back and brought her with him so that she lay half sprawled over him. His lips touched her brow. Then they shared a smile that expressed their newfound knowledge of each other more deeply than words ever could.
“You have stars in your eyes,” he said.
“Perhaps because I’ve learned something, my lord.”
“And what might that be?”
“Now I know why the girls at the academy were warned against being alone with their suitors. Until I met you, I never understood just how tempting a man could be.”
He chuckled. “When our daughters come of age, they will not be allowed within a mile of any lusty young men.”
The notion of bearing his daughter or son filled Annabelle with joy. “Let us simply agree they will be well chaperoned. Else how will they ever become betrothed to the man of their dreams?”
Annabelle let her fingers drift over the solid muscles of his arm. As she caressed him, the sapphire on her finger glinted in the faint light.
Simon caught her hand and kissed it. “I never explained what this ring means, Annabelle. My grandmother was very special to me. She lived here at Castle Kevern, and it was to her that I went when I needed advice or a listening ear. Without her firm guidance, God only knows what sort of miscreant I might have become.”
“What of your own mother?”
He shrugged. “My parents had eyes only for George, who was much better behaved than I—at least in front of them. I was the one who caused trouble, and he knew just what to whisper to make me explode with anger in their presence.”
Simon spoke in a jesting tone, but Annabelle wasn’t fooled. She could imagine him as a child, lashing out to hide the pain of rejection. “Oh, darling, they should not have shunned you. Parents are supposed to love all their children, not just the favored heir.”
He looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to her. “Perhaps it made me the man that I am. I certainly would never have been so devoted to Grandmamma otherwise. I wanted you to have her ring because you remind me of her.”
Annabelle gave him a look from under her eyelashes. “Are you quite sure I remind you of your grandmother?”
Simon laughed softly as he fondled her bare bottom. “Minx. I was referring to your strength of character. She was outspoken just like you. It was because of her that I developed an appreciation for sassy, impertinent women.”
“What happened to her?” she asked quietly.
“She died while I was away in the military.” He paused, his face pensive. “When I left, I broke off all ties with my family. But she always seemed to know where I was stationed. She would write to me from time to time, entreating me to come home and make amends with my brother. Then the letters stopped.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “That played a part in why I’d decided to resign my commission. I returned to London, only to discover she’d died of old age the previous spring.”
“George never wrote to inform you?”
He shook his head, his expression hard. “We never spoke after he stole Diana out from under my nose. I despised them both for a long time. But now … now it all seems like a wasted effort. George and I were often rivals, but we were comrades, too. Maybe if I hadn’t been so stubborn, we might have mended fences. Then it was too late.”
It was wrong to think ill of the dead, but Annabelle heartily disapproved of George and Diana. “You couldn’t know they’d be killed in a tragic mishap—a carriage wreck, one of the servants told me.”
“There was more to it than that.” He gazed bleakly at her. “George was always a daredevil. He was racing his carriage against a few other friends. Diana was at his side when the vehicle lost a wheel, went into a ditch, and overturned. I’ve often thought, what if I had sought him out when I was in London? Could I have prevented him from doing something so damnably foolish?”
Shock and sadness enveloped Annabelle. Wanting to ease his pain, she lovingly stroked his face. “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. But oh, how could they have taken such a chance when they had a young son who needed them?”
Simon closed his eyes briefly, turning his head to press a kiss into the palm of her hand. “Perhaps everything happens for a reason. You do realize, don’t you, that if they hadn’t died, I would never have met you?”
“Yes.” As she softly said that, Annabelle reflected on the strange twists that life had taken in leading them both to this moment. Then, hoping to ease his mood, she added, “Of course, I am obliged to point out that you resisted hiring me from the start. You tried to send me away.”
A faint grin lightened his face. “I sensed you were about to upset the well-oiled machinery of my life. And thank God you did. If not for you, I’d have remained a bitter old curmudgeon for the rest of my days.”
“And I would have been a dry old maid who’d never know the joys of falling in love and finding a real home.”
He brushed a tender kiss over her mouth. “I intend to give you the family you never had, Annabelle. In the meantime, however, you’ll have to be content with Nicholas and me.”
Even as his words inundated her in happiness, she realized something and sat up with a gasp. “Nicholas! Oh, Simon, I forgot completely that Elowen abandoned him. He’s all alone in the nursery.”
“He’ll be fine, my love.” Simon feathered his fingers over her breasts, then with a look of regret, withdrew his hand. “Now, as tempting as you are, we mustn’t linger. Tongues will be wagging already about our long absence.”
As they arose from the bed, Annabelle placed her hand on his chest. “Will you mind so very much if I don’t return to the ball? It’s late, and I’ve no wish to parry gossip after what we’ve shared tonight.”
A smile played at the corner of his mouth as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You do have the aura of a woman who has been thoroughly loved.”
“And you look like a man who has been thoroughly satisfied. At least for the moment.”
Annabelle stood on tiptoe and their lips met in a stirring promise for the future. She wanted nothing more than to lie with him again, but knew he had a duty to his guests. So she poured all of her love into the kiss, letting him know exactly how much she would miss him.
When at last they drew apart, Simon had that concentrated look in his eyes. “We shall be married as soon as I can make the arrangements.”
She smiled sensually. “As you wish, my lord.”
They helped each other dress, pausing for brief caresses and fleeting kisses, until the whole process took twice as long as it ought. Since there would be guests spending the night, Simon checked the corridor to make certain no one would see them leaving his chamber together. Then they walked through the deserted passageway to the stairway that led to the nursery.
He handed her the candle. “Dream of me?”
“Always, my love.”
They kissed one last time. Weak-kneed, Annabelle leaned against the stone wall as he strode away and vanished around a corner. The faint lilt of music drifted from the ballroom downstairs. Supper would be over and people would be dancing again. If only she could have gone with him. Already she felt bereft, lonely.
But she could only imagine how she must look with half her hairpins gone and an expression of
giddy happiness on her face. Better she should retreat to her chamber for now and not give the gossips more fodder. They would be clucking enough already.
Climbing the stairs, she entered the schoolroom. It looked as before, shadowed and serene. This had been her domain for the past two months, and yet now, she would be mistress of the castle as well. The reality of that had not yet taken hold in her mind.
Annabelle went straight to check on Nicholas. He was sound asleep in his bed, his breathing even, his pale lashes fanned on his sweet face. She straightened his covers. Simon was right, perhaps she did worry too much. But she couldn’t bear for anything to happen to the boy. Like Simon, Nicholas had become very dear to her. They were her family now and she was the luckiest woman in the world.
After quietly closing the door, she checked across the corridor to find Elowen’s room still empty. Annabelle had half a mind to go out and find the neglectful maid at the Samhain revels, then decided it could wait until the morning. At the moment she felt too happy to be giving anyone a stern lecture. Anyway, she’d be here now if Nicholas needed someone.
She wanted to snuggle in bed and bask in the memories of Simon’s lovemaking. Never in her life had she imagined such joy could exist between a man and a woman. All of the poetry, the sonnets, the verses she had read over the years suddenly made sense to her. In those lines, love had not been exaggerated for literary effect as she’d always believed. If anything, the reality of it was more beautiful and exhilarating than mere words could ever express.
A smile on her face, Annabelle opened the door to her bedchamber and placed the candlestick on the washstand. She stood in front of the little mirror, wishing there was more light so that she could tell if her outward appearance had changed as much as she felt changed inside.
As she peered closer, something moved in the mirror. A distorted face appeared behind her. The visage of a devil.
Horror flashed through her. Even as she opened her mouth to scream, a hand clamped a smelly cloth over her mouth and nose.
