Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me

by Barbara Devlin

  In the coach, she settled into the squabs, and Mildred argued with the footman, as he handed the maid into the rig. On the surface, Almira appeared poised and composed, as if she accepted her chosen fate. But beneath her skin, she wailed in misery. When the equipage lurched forward, and they navigated around the fountain in the courtyard, she broke.

  Misery combined with disappointment, and she yielded and doubled over in pain. Never should she have believed in the possibility of love. Never should she have sought redemption. Instead, she should have accepted her lot, however repugnant.

  “My lady, look.” Sitting on the opposite bench, Mildred pointed to the rear.

  When Almira peered over her shoulder, she spied Nicholas, running after the coach, and she flashed back to that awful day, seven years ago. “It is just like that time I chased his carriage.” She shook her head and then flinched. “It is just like that time, but our positions are reversed.” Without hesitation, she pounded on the rig. “Oy, driver. Stop.”

  The coach had barely slowed, when she unlatched the door and leaped to the ground.

  “Almira, come back.” With arms outstretched, Nicholas charged. “Almira.”

  “Nicholas.” Mirroring his stance, she ran straight at him. “Nicholas.”

  When they met in the middle, he lifted her in a steely embrace and showered her face in kisses. “My sweet girl, I forbid you to leave me, not now, not ever.”

  “But I thought you did not want me.” Oh, it was too good to be true, and doubt clouded their happy reunion. “You were not there, when I woke.”

  “Only because I needed a bath, else I might have frightened you with my ghastly appearance, but never think, for an instant, that I do not want you.” Then and there, he tipped her chin and claimed her mouth in a searing affirmation of his ardor. “Ah, my darling Almira, I love you. There has never been a time when I did not love you, as you, alone, own my heart.”

  “Do you mean that?” Framing his jaw, she wept happy tears. “Have I your heart, despite all the horrible deeds I have committed?”

  “But you were not to blame, my sweet girl.” Slowly, he carried her back to Courtenay Hall. “What happened was not of your making. It was that bastard Moreton’s fault, and were he not dead, I would dispatch him to his maker. As it stands, I wonder if you can ever forgive me?”

  “Forgive you for what?” She blinked, as he conveyed her into the warmth of the foyer and set her on her feet. “You did nothing.”

  “I never should have permitted Moreton to take you, and I will regret that until I die.” As the coach returned to the entrance, he glanced at Mildred and said, “Unpack her ladyship’s things, as she is going nowhere without me.” To the butler, Nicholas directed, “Inform Mr. and Mrs. Randolph that Lady Moreton changed her mind.”

  “Ay, my lord.” With a cat-that-ate-the-canary-grin, Hicks bowed and issued commands to the footmen.

  Then something occurred to Mira, and she dragged Nicholas into the drawing room. “Do you really want me?”

  “I will have no other.” How his certainty thrilled her.

  “Then I will have that kiss beneath the kissing bough.” Riding a crest of unadulterated joy, she bit her bottom lip, gazed at the ball of mistletoe—and shrieked. “Oh, no. The berries are all gone. Nicholas, you know what that means.”

  “Ah, but do not despair, my lady.” From his breast pocket, he produced a berry and a ring. “I took the liberty of saving a kiss just for us.”

  “My darling, I do love you.” With that, Almira kissed her man with all she had and for all she was worth, but too soon, he set her at arm’s length.

  “And in keeping with the lore, I should be about my part of the bargain.” Kneeling, he took her by the hand. “My dear Lady Almira, love of my life, owner of my heart, will you consent to marry your most humble servant?”

  “Yes.” Just as she bent to bestow upon him a kiss, a cheer erupted in the hall, and then the odd extended family converged to offer their congratulations.

  “Hicks, serve the champagne.” Daphne snapped her fingers. “Let us toast the adorable couple.”

  As if by some strange power, the chains imprisoning her in Lodge’s invisible hell unshackled her, and Almira hugged her fiancé. The pain of the past ceased its torment, and its place only love remained. Resting her head to his chest, she sighed. “Forever, Nicholas.”

  HOLD ME, THRILL ME, KISS ME

  CHAPTER SIX

  On New Year’s Eve, the voice of a nightingale filled the grand ballroom at Courtenay Hall, and Nicholas savored Almira’s dulcet tones, as she held his gaze and sang William Chappell’s “Love Will Find Out the Way” just for him, with Lenore playing an accompaniment on the piano and Daphne keeping time with her lute. Brimming with pride, he assembled with the collective of husbands and winked, as she held a note in a thrilling conclusion, and the audience roared with approval. And as he anticipated, she curtseyed once and made straight for his arms.

  “Did I please you, my lord?” The charming flush of her cheeks seduced him, as she hugged him about the waist, a position she occupied more and more, of late, and that was fine with him. “You know that was my gift to you, and you, alone.”

  “You could never do otherwise, my sweet girl. And, of course, I knew you spoke to me, in your unique language.” With his lips, he traced the crest of her ear and marveled at her transformation. In the days since she accepted his proposal, they had scarcely parted, except to retire. While she begged him to join her, after all were abed, he declined, because he wanted to distinguish their lovemaking from all the horrid abuse she endured with her first husband. “It is almost midnight.”

  “I know, and I am uncontrollably excited.” An angel in the eau de nil silk creation he purchased expressly for her and their special occasion, in Portsmouth, she caused quite a stir when she made her entrance at his side. Although numerous potential partners begged a dance, she politely declined, as she saved all her appointments for him. “Oh, Nicholas, Dalton has begun the preparations.”

  “So he has.” Nicholas rested his palm to her shapely hip. “It will not be long, now.”

  “Discharge your glasses and quiet down, everyone. Hicks, open the doors to the main corridor.” At the center of the massive hall, Dalton and Daphne stood as the consummate host and hostess. Holding a pocket watch, he monitored the time, and the tension built. The long case clock in the foyer sounded the hour, and everyone cheered. “Happy eighteen-sixteen!” The Randolphs then walked to the side entrance of the ballroom and set ajar the oak panels. In keeping with tradition, Dalton said, “Let us usher out the old, and bring in the new.”

  The orchestra played Robert Burns’s “Auld Lang Syne,” and the partygoers swayed with the music, signifying a beginning, in more ways than one, while, in the foreground, the servants moved with the skill and precision of well-trained troops. A makeshift altar built of wood and covered in hothouse roses had been situated at the back, and the staff rolled out a red carpet, while everyone in attendance assumed their place.

  With Blake, Lenore, Dalton, and Daphne standing as primary witnesses, Nicholas and Almira clasped hands before the vicar. In that instant, Nicholas transported back in time, to that fateful day, seven years ago. But in his mind, the remembrance altered, erasing the time apart, and with it so much tragedy and pain. Instead, he would forever recall that afternoon as a fond prelude to his marriage, leaving everything in between, behind.

  “Dearly beloved family, friends, and distinguished guests, we have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony.” Vicar Davies held high the Book of Common Prayer as he read. “Therefore marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God.”

  “How did you manage all of this?” Almira clutched a bouquet of roses and smiled. “Not that I am complaining.”

  “It is simple.” He shru
gged, as the ceremony progressed. “From the afternoon I discovered the receipt in my father’s desk, I intended to marry you, and I procured a special license prior to departing London.”

  “Into this holy union Lord Nicholas Sheldon, the earl of Waddlington, and Lady Almira now come to be joined.” Vicar Davies cleared his throat. “If any of you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now or else forever hold your peace.”

  The ballroom was as silent as a tomb, and Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You were that sure?” she whispered. “You would not be dissuaded?”

  “Lady Almira, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together in the covenant of marriage?” The vicar adjusted his glasses. “Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

  “I will.” She paused to nod the affirmative and take her vows, which well nigh brought Nicholas to tears.

  “I am yours, Almira. I always have been.” Following the vicar’s prompt, Nicholas again took her hand in his. “This is but a formality, my sweet girl.” Twining his fingers in hers, he pledged, “From this day forward you shall not walk alone. My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

  Vicar Davies faced the attendees. “Will all of you witnessing these promises do all in your power to uphold these two persons in their marriage?”

  “We will,” the audience responded, in unison.

  “Grant that all married persons who have witnessed these vows may find their lives strengthened and their loyalties confirmed.” Doffing his spectacles, Mr. Davies closed his book. “And now I pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Waddlington, you may kiss your bride.”

  To Nicholas’s incomparable delight, and the amusement of those present, Almira flung herself at him.

  There were those moments in life when the universe acknowledged seemingly unattainable achievements. The clouds parted, the wind quieted, the sun ceased its journey across the sky, and the world came to an abrupt halt, if only to pay tribute to the incomparable rhythmic beauty of two hearts beating as a single entity. When Nicholas claimed Almira’s mouth, to seal their vows, such was one of those times.

  His ears pealed, like the bells in a Wren steeple, and soothing warmth suffused his tired muscles. Licking and suckling her tempting lips, he mingled his tongue with hers, and she speared her fingers in his hair, to hoots, hollers, and applause.

  In her tender gesture, he recalled the chase across the meadow of her father’s estate, her bright red pelisse, which matched the tint of her cheeks, and her shy demeanor, when she gifted him their first kiss, and at last they triumphed. Still, he had one more surprise for his bride, the return of a gift that meant more to him than she realized. And then he would leave the past to yesterday, as he uttered a silent oath that she would know nothing but love for the rest of her days.

  ~

  In the early morning hours, Almira stretched long, sank into the down mattress, and burrowed close to the warm male body that enveloped her. A succession of seductive images assailed her consciousness, and she flinched and opened her eyes.

  “No, I am not a dream, you are not imagining me, and yes, you are safe, and we are wed, given we have well and truly consummated the vows.” Nicholas kissed her forehead and tightened his hold about her, as he twined his legs with hers. “Do you think there will ever come a time when you do not respond with fear when you wake, my darling wife? Believe me, I will never let anyone harm you.”

  “I know, and I am sorry if I spoiled our special moment.” Sighing, she relaxed and revisited cherished memories of their nuptials and the gentle but passionate lovemaking that followed. “Old habits are hard to break, but I will try.”

  “But I am not chastising you, sweetheart.” In long strokes, he massaged her back and then initiated a sequence of intimate caresses she savored. “Rather, I just want to make you happy, and it hurts me to see you so afraid.”

  “This helps.” She burrowed closer. “I always knew it could be like this.”

  “And so it shall be, for as long as you live.” He drew the covers to her chin. “My sole purpose in this world is to keep that smile on your face. Are you warm enough, my lady? Should I fetch another blanket?”

  “Hmm.” She pressed her lips to his chest. “You do the job nicely, my lord.”

  “Are you hungry?” Slowly, he rolled her onto her back and settled between her thighs. “Our breakfast was delivered about twenty minutes, ago, but I had not the heart to disturb you, as you slept so peacefully.”

  “Actually, I am famished.” As if to concur, her belly growled, and she giggled. “My lord, it is not my fault, because you exercised me quite thoroughly.”

  “Then I should feed you.” Naked and aroused, her husband slid from the bed, and she admired the shape of his muscular profile and bottom. At the hearth, he stoked the fire and then strolled to the doors. “Wait right there.”

  After checking to ensure no one occupied the sitting room, he disappeared behind the oak panel. Seconds later, he pushed a trolley, laden with covered dishes, into the large chamber, to which their belongings had been transferred prior to the festivities. The opulent apartment sat at the end of the west wing of Courtenay Hall and provided a measure of privacy for the newlyweds, and she was grateful, given she heralded her virgin completion with a rousing scream.

  “If you will sit upright, I will fluff your pillow.” With care, he placed a shawl about her shoulders, bent, and kissed a pert nipple. “You are so beautiful, Mira.”

  “I am glad you think so.” Suddenly shy, she cursed the burn of a blush. “Because I want to be beautiful for you.”

  “You could never be anything less.” Perched on the edge of the mattress, he eased beneath the blankets and heaped scrambled eggs, smoked kippers, and toast on a plate. “Would you prefer marmalade or strawberry preserves on your bread, sweetheart?”

  “The preserves, please.” How many times had she envisioned such tender exchanges, only to discover it was all a reverie to escape her miserable existence? Under the covers, she pinched her arm. “Nicholas, is this really happening?”

  “What do you mean?” Holding their meal, he gazed at her, and his expression sobered. “Oh, my sweet girl, I am here, I promise.”

  Balancing the food in his lap, he fed her, bite by delicious bite, interspersed with whispery kisses and playful nips, mingled with affirmations of love and devotion, until a hunger of another sort blossomed in the pit of her belly.

  “That is enough, for now.” She reached for him, but he stayed her. “What is wrong?”

  “I have a gift, which I planned to give you at the Christmas ball.” From the bedside table, he collected a box. “I believe you misplaced this, my dear.”

  “But you have given me too much, already.” Curious, she lifted the lid. “Nicholas.”

  “If you remember, I gave this to you as a token of my undying affection, and I am positive you must have lost it.” From a nest of pristine cotton, he recovered the treasured coral necklace she sold to that nasty Mr. MacGregor. “Hold up your hair, sweetheart.”

  “How did you know?” It was the last remnant of the young ingénue, and she thought it gone forever. “Where did you get it?”

  “From Mr. MacGregor, after you sold it to him.” Nicholas adjusted the bauble and then kissed her neck. “And from the look on your face, I am left to surmise you never discovered the secret engraving on the clasp.”

  “There is a secret engraving?” She blinked.

  “Indeed.” With a finger, he tapped the tip of her nose. “It says, quite simply, ‘Nicholas and Almira.’ And I gather from the speed with which the greedy bastard contacted me, he presumed your benefactor and I were one in the same, based on the salacious rumors running rampant through the ton.”

  “But I never knew that.” Of course, she had never seriously scrutinized the item, in question. “And to think a
ll that dreadful gossip led you to recover what I have always considered a priceless keepsake, which I bartered only because Mildred and I were starving.”

  “Then I am gratified it served its purpose, which was to safeguard you, as a talisman, in my absence.” Tugging the shawl from her shoulders, Nicholas studied her mouth and met her gaze. “Do you not see, Mira? You were never alone, because some small part of me has always been with you.”

  What Almira spied in his blue eyes quickened her pulse, and a shiver of anticipation coursed her flesh. Cupping his cheek, she smiled, which he returned, and reclined, and he covered her. With his legs, he spread her thighs, but he moved gently. When he rested his hips to hers, and claimed her in the most elemental fashion possible, with a single thrust, she gasped. Then he initiated the delicate dance, worshipping her with his body, and she was with him. There was warmth, devotion, and an unfailing promise she would never doubt. Most of all, there was love.

  HOLD ME, THRILL ME, KISS ME

  EPILOGUE

  Portsea Island

  December 24, 1816

  Laughter filled the drawing room at Courtenay Hall, and Nicholas occupied the overstuffed chair near the hearth, in which the Yule Log burned, with Almira perched in his lap. The children had been sent to bed, so the adults could exchange gifts, in keeping with the family tradition. To his delight, his wife donned the parure of diamonds he purchased just for her.

  “Oh, Nicholas, it is too much.” Shimmering in more ways than one, Mira beamed, as she toyed with the expensive necklace. “However, I feel terrible, because my present has yet to arrive.”

  “But it will be here, soon enough.” Caressing her round belly, he winked, and it never ceased to amaze him how much had changed in the year since they first ventured to Portsea Island. “And then we must begin the arduous task of begetting the other five, but I shall endeavor to persevere for my lady’s sake.”

  “Are you not the benevolent soul.” With a flirty giggle, she wiggled her hips and offered her cheek, upon which he pressed his lips. “I wish our babe would hurry, as I am uncontrollably excited to meet our son or daughter.”