The Wary Widow

by Jerrica Knight-Catania

  He whispered her name like a benediction as he trailed frantic kisses down her neck to her décolletage. He threw off her shawl, revealing her gown from the previous evening and its rather low bodice.

  Only then did Chloe realize she’d forgotten to change, but she was too aroused to care. And what did it really matter when in a moment the dress would be on the floor?

  Andrew’s mouth found its way over the soft mound of her right breast. His thumb grazed the edge of the bodice and then pulled it down until her nipple popped free. He glanced down at the taut bud and moaned.

  “Oh, dear God,” he breathed before taking her into his mouth.

  Chloe gave an appreciative moan in return as her body turned to mush. The play of his tongue on her nipple made her weak, and she started to sway back onto her haunches.

  Andrew looked up as his arm tightened around her to hold her upright. “Wait one moment,” he said, pulling his jacket from his shoulders.

  He threw it down on the floor behind her, but Chloe barely noticed. She was too focused on Andrew’s hard, muscular body to notice anything else.

  “Good heavens,” she breathed. “I don’t think even Michelangelo could have dreamed up such a sculpture.”

  Andrew smiled as he pulled his shirt over his head and Chloe gave a little gasp. She had never been witness to such a masculine sight. She felt the dampness pool between her legs at the mere thought of having him on top of her, inside of her.

  “It’s your turn, love,” he cooed, coming closer to her. “Let me see that goddess body of yours.”

  Oh, Lord, it had been so long since she’d been naked with a man, it almost felt like her wedding night all over again. She swallowed hard. What if he didn’t like the way she looked? Her breasts were not as large as some—certainly not as large as Lizzie’s—and she’d been called unfashionably thin by her Aunt Prudence.

  A clap of thunder jolted both of them from their trance-like states. Before Chloe could protest, Andrew reached around and unfastened her dress. The bodice fell forward. Her breasts were still covered, but the threadbare cloth of her chemise left little to the imagination.

  Andrew pulled the chemise away, exposing her bare breasts to the chilly, spring air. He groaned as he took one full breast into his hand and kneaded it. Chloe's dress fell, unsupported, to pool around her knees, and Andrew lifted the chemise over her head, leaving her completely naked. She shivered as a breeze crossed between the tiny window openings of the tree house.

  Ever the gentleman, Andrew took only a brief moment to admire her, and then pulled her to him. Gently, he lowered her to his coat on the floor and covered her with his warm body.

  Chloe’s breath was coming quick now with anticipation. Andrew’s cock pressed against her belly and she moved her hands between them to undo his breeches. He smiled again and Chloe felt as though she might melt right through the floor. Together, they untied his breeches and then Andrew lifted up to pull them away. His cock sprung free, hard and rigid, and Chloe once again gave a little gasp.

  “Are you all right?” Andrew asked with concern.

  She nodded. “It’s just been...so long,” she reminded him. “Far too long.”

  With that, Andrew lowered his head to hers and kissed her. His hands roamed the sensitive flesh along her side and along the outer edge of her breast. All her senses came to life and cried out for release.

  “Please, Andrew,” she begged. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

  “I wouldn't dream of it,” Andrew quipped. “I'm not a very patient man myself.”

  Chloe wanted to giggle, enjoy the comfortable banter, but she couldn’t. Not with his member inching its way inside of her, stretching and filling her until the rest of the world drifted away. She could only think of how wonderful he felt inside of her, this strong, virile man.

  Andrew moved slowly, pulling out until only the tip remained inside of her, and then thrusting back in until he filled her to the hilt. Over and over he teased, bringing Chloe briefly to the edge of ecstasy every time. But when he lowered his head to her tightened nipple and suckled, she could not take anymore.

  Sensing that she was near her release, Andrew thrust faster and harder, until at last, they both cried out in heavenly bliss.

  Uncontrollable tears choked Chloe as she and Andrew made their way slowly back to earth. She’d barely known that she needed such a release, but now that she’d experienced it, it overwhelmed her.

  Andrew grabbed onto her and held her tight, his cock still firmly planted inside of her. She never wanted him to leave. She never wanted to let him go.

  But another crash of thunder reminded them that they were not alone in the world—that people still relied on them and needed them—namely her little sister. Their eyes met in the dim twilight and Andrew gave her one last kiss before rolling off her. They dressed quickly and did their best to put themselves back to rights. Once ready, Chloe moved to the opening and put her foot down on the first wrung of the ladder.

  “Wait,” Andrew said, causing her to stop and look up. “I forgot to tell you something.”

  “Yes,” she said, blinking up at him.

  Andrew knelt down so he was at eye level with her. His brown eyes sparkled in the darkness of the tree house. He gave her a small kiss that was so tender it set her body to tingling all over again.

  “I forgot to tell you,” he began, “I love you too.”

  Eighteen

  Andrew walked alongside Chloe in sated silence until they reached the back door of the cottage. He could scarcely believe he’d told her he loved her. It was true, of course. He’d never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. But it was difficult to tamp down the guilt over Elizabeth.

  One thing was for certain, now—he had to tell her about Chloe and break off the engagement. It wouldn’t be easy, and he couldn’t imagine what it might do to her reputation, but he had no choice. There was no way he could marry Elizabeth, knowing what he’d done with her cousin.

  “I’m afraid our meals are simpler here than what you’re used to,” Chloe said, breaking into his thoughts.

  He smiled. “I could use simple right now, to be completely honest. Lord knows nothing else in my life is.”

  Chloe gave a little laugh and then pushed open the door to the cottage. The rest of her family bustled around the kitchen, setting the table and preparing the meal. Chloe fell into the fold to help, but Andrew just stood to the side, trying to stay out of the way. After a few more minutes, Chloe beckoned him to the table and they all sat down to eat.

  It was a quiet meal—clearly everyone’s concern for Gracie hung in the air, and Andrew noticed that Mrs. Clarke devoured her small plate in mere minutes.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m being rude,” she said to Andrew as she stood from the table.

  “Of course not,” he assured her, rising in deference at the same time. “Please do not feel you need to stand on ceremony on my account.”

  Mrs. Clarke gave a grateful nod and then disappeared upstairs. Silence reigned over the dinner table once again, until Mr. Clarke dismissed himself to join his wife, leaving Andrew and Chloe alone with her brothers.

  Andrew wondered if the silence might stretch on forever, but then James finally spoke.

  “I say, Andrew, would you care for some company this evening?”

  “Company?” he repeated.

  “Stevie and I were thinking of having a drink down at Penwick Arms. Since you’re staying there and all, we thought you might want to join us.”

  Andrew smiled. Of course they were having a drink at the Penwick Arms. That way Andrew couldn’t possibly say no to their invitation without being unforgivably rude. He had a strong feeling it was not just a friendly drink they had in mind. The prospect of stating his intentions toward their sister made him uneasy, since he hadn’t even spoken to her about them. Either way, it didn’t matter now.

  “I would love to join you.”

  Chloe cast him a look that said she wasn
’t all that comfortable with the idea either, but she held her tongue. He was certain there was no way to stop her brothers at this point anyhow.

  Andrew’s carriage conveyed the three of them to the inn where they all settled in at a table in the corner of the dining room. It was a quiet night and only a few other tables were occupied. They ordered their beers, and the barmaid hadn’t gotten two feet from the table when James leaned in and narrowed his eyes.

  “Forgive me for being forward, Andrew... ”

  “Please, speak freely.”

  James nodded and continued, “We can’t help but be a bit curious as to the nature of your relationship with our sister.”

  Andrew regarded the two men before him and sat back in his chair. He knew they would ask, he just hadn’t expected it so soon. “I’m not sure what to say,” he said, trying to buy time. “I like your sister very much, but as to my intentions, well...”

  The barmaid set down three pints in front of them and retreated again, but not before flashing a toothy grin in Stevie’s direction. He smiled back, a roguish glint in his eyes, and then turned his attention back to the topic at hand.

  “Well what?” Stevie asked impatiently. “Do you intend to marry her?”

  Andrew choked on his first sip of ale. Good Lord, they were a forward bunch out here in the country.

  “I, ah...”

  James shook his blond head with a resigned expression. “Our sister is not a dalliance, my lord. She’s been through enough already. We won’t have you breaking her heart.”

  “I assure you, I don’t intend to,” Andrew shot back.

  “So, you plan to marry her?” Stevie asked again.

  Was that the only question he knew how to ask?

  “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I just don’t feel right discussing this with you before I’ve had the opportunity to discuss it with your sister.”

  The men considered this as they sipped from their pints and Andrew was grateful for the reprieve, brief though it was.

  “I guess I can understand that,” James finally replied. “But we want you to know that if anything should happen to our sister—if you hurt her in any way—you’ll have us to deal with.”

  Andrew smiled. Their loyalty was to be commended. “Gentlemen, I would expect nothing less. And you have my word that I will do everything in my power to make your sister a happy woman.”

  James and Stevie seemed satisfied with this reply and willingly dropped the subject. Andrew found that when not playing the roles of protective brothers, they were quite good company. After several more pints and an impromptu dart competition, James and Stevie left for home and Andrew stumbled up to his room.

  He was laughing as he shut the door, realizing that not only had he fallen for Chloe, but he’d fallen for her family as well.

  ***

  Michael walked into his shared bachelor lodgings just after two in the morning to find a letter awaiting him from Essex. He undressed and poured a brandy before settling in by the fire to read. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Andrew had decided to stay there, but he wasn’t at all thrilled that he’d been charged with looking after Lady Elizabeth.

  It wasn’t that he minded having her on his arm. Actually, he didn't mind having her on his arm at all. He preferred it. But every time she called him Andrew, it did something to his heart, reminding him that she was not really his. That she belonged to another man. And not just any man, his bloody twin brother.

  How much longer could he keep up this ridiculous charade? He’d intended to help Andrew one or two times, to allow him private audiences with Mrs. Hawthorne, secretly hoping things would dissolve and the engagement would end. Then he could swoop in and play the hero by marrying Elizabeth in Andrew's stead to save her reputation.

  And then she would be his.

  But could he really go on playing his brother until further notice? Furthermore, should he? This was all going to come out sooner or later, but sooner would be better for everyone. Especially Elizabeth.

  Who was he trying to fool? It would be better for him. The sooner he could move on with his own life and forget about Lady Elizabeth Crawley, the better.

  He tossed the parchment into the fire with a sigh. One thing he could do for sure was send for their family physician. So, first thing in the morning, he summoned the doctor and informed him of the situation, before shipping him off to Essex.

  ***

  Andrew couldn’t remember a time when he’d had such a fitful sleep. Memories of his tree house love-making with Chloe crept in unannounced, causing his cock to turn rigid more times than he could count. He felt like a boy of fourteen for all the times he brought his own release throughout the night.

  When his thoughts weren’t on Chloe, they were on Elizabeth. How was he ever going to explain this mess to her? Or his family?

  He rolled over and put a fist through the lumpy pillow, determined to fall back to sleep. A cock crowed in the inn yard, and a sliver of sun poked through the inadequate curtains on his window, and he realized his opportunity for sleep had passed.

  After bathing and dressing, he went downstairs for breakfast and then set off for the Clarke’s tiny cottage. The morning was brisk, but sunny, so Andrew decided to walk. He needed to clear his head after the night he’d spent tossing and turning. It was barely a mile to the cottage, and he arrived at its door within twenty minutes, carrying a small bunch of forget-me-nots he’d found along side the road.

  Already, the house was a flurry of excitement, and Andrew hoped that it was perhaps because Grace’s fever had broken. But he soon discovered this was a normal morning for a working class family.

  Mrs. Clarke let him in and then rushed around the kitchen preparing food and heating water. The sounds of wood chopping drew Andrew’s attention out the back of the cottage where he saw Chloe’s brothers working in their shirt sleeves.

  Pigs and chickens made up the rest of the chaos.

  Feeling rather out of place, Andrew cleared his throat and asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

  Mrs. Clarke stopped what she was doing to look at him. “Oh, no, Andrew. Why don’t you go up and see Chloe? She’s with Gracie, of course.”

  Andrew nodded and eagerly climbed the stairs. Chloe sat at her sister’s bedside, reading aloud from a book. She ceased her reading when he came through the door, and he ceased his breathing.

  He hadn’t expected her to look so beautiful this morning. Of course, she was always beautiful, but in her simple blue dress, with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, she was resplendent.

  And when she smiled, it was as if the entire world fell away until all that was left—all he could see—was her.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly as she stood from her chair. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”

  Andrew smiled back, instantly cheered at the sound of her voice. “We don’t have roosters in London and for that I am eternally grateful, or else I would never sleep past six again.”

  Chloe laughed and then nodded toward the bunch of flowers.

  “Forget-me-nots,” he offered as he held them out to her.

  “I know,” she smiled. “They are my favorite. However did you know?”

  “I didn’t,” he admitted. “But they were so lovely, I couldn’t resist plucking a few stems for you. Besides, I figured this room could use a bit of cheerfulness.”

  Chloe nodded, sobering rather quickly as she looked down at her sister.

  “Has she seen any improvement?”

  Chloe shook her head. “I’m afraid not. She stirs often and mumbles in her sleep, but...”

  Andrew reached across the bed and grabbed Chloe’s hand. “Help is on its way,” he whispered. “I promise she will pull through this, Chloe.”

  She squeezed his hand back. “Your optimism is greatly appreciated,” she said with a little smile. “Though I am desperate for a true sign of recovery.”

  Neither one said anything more. They sat down on either side of the bed, and Chloe cont
inued to read aloud. Andrew had to laugh at her choice of reading material, for he was sure nothing would bring a seventeen-year-old girl out of a fever better than a gothic romance.

  ***

  The lunching hour had long passed by the time the doctor arrived at the cottage. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the well-dressed man climb from the hackney that she was sure Andrew had paid for.

  A remarkably tall man, he could barely stand up straight in their little house. But he willingly followed Mrs. Clarke up the stairs and Chloe followed behind, leaving the men to wait in the kitchen for a prognosis.

  Chloe and her mother stood to one side of the bed, holding one another’s hands, while the doctor did his examinations. After a while, he removed his spectacles and addressed Mrs. Clarke.

  “Your daughter is very ill, Mrs. Clarke, and the infection is very advanced.”

  Chloe looked at her mother, whose face had turned to a stark white.

  “Please, Dr. Gibbs, is there nothing you can do for her?” Chloe asked, willing him to say yes.

  “If I may, there is but one option left to us.”

  Chloe felt her skin grow cold and clammy. She shook with the memories of her husband and the letting he’d suffered just two days before he died.

  “No,” she heard herself respond. “There must be another option.”

  “But there isn’t, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

  Her mother gave her hand a reassuring pat. “Chloe, we must at least try it. Grace stands little chance otherwise.”

  “She is right.” Dr. Gibbs looked to Mrs. Clarke. “With your permission, ma’am.”

  Chloe felt her mother’s nod to the doctor and the man immediately set to work. He removed a small brass box from his satchel, which she recognized well.

  Don’t swoon, Chloe! she told herself over and over. She needed to be there—wanted to be there—for her sister, no matter how difficult it might prove to be.

  “I will need at least two bowls, ma’am,” Dr. Gibbs said.

  “I will fetch them,” Chloe offered, grateful for a chance to get some fresh air before the letting began.

  She ran down the stairs, drawing the attention of the men who immediately rose from their seats around the table. Her eyes scanned her brothers and father and then settled on Andrew. He must have read the panic on her face for he came to her at once and put a hand to her shoulder.