WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

by When Dreams Come True(Lit)

  Because Betsy had gotten her to believe, to dream that anything was possible—and it wasn’t.

  Tomorrow, she would approach Lady Penhollow and offer one of her dresses in exchange for coach fare away from Cornwall. Where she went and what she did, didn’t matter. What was important was that she leave as quickly as possible.

  Her mind made up, Eden lay on the bed. She closed her eyes. She would need her sleep for the morrow, but sleep escaped her.

  She couldn’t relax. Her mind was too filled with thoughts and plans. For a time, she toyed with the idea of contacting Mary Westchester. Mary would be eager to help but Eden feared Madame Indrani’s vengeance against the young couple if she knew they’d been involved with Eden’s escape.

  Restless, she got up from the bed and left her bedroom with a candle. Perhaps if she could find a book to read in the library, her mind would settle down enough to let her sleep.

  As she passed the drawing room door, the sight of moonlight streaming through the window and spilling onto the pianoforte stopped her. She hesitated, and then entered the room, closing the door behind her. She set the candle on the instrument and ran her hands lovingly over the smooth rosewood.

  Sitting on the pianoforte bench, she lifted the cover and rested her fingers on the ivory keys. A familiar touch. What would have happened if she’d dared to perform this evening? Closing her eyes, she could picture the look of approval on Lord Penhollow’s face. Her fingers began to play.

  The music was more soothing than a book. Through it, she could release her soul, leaving worries and fears behind. Time lost meaning while she poured her heart into the notes she knew so well by memory. One song flowed into another until she was done, drained of all emotion.

  Only then did she sense she wasn’t alone.

  The last chord still vibrated in the air as she looked up. Lord Penhollow stood in the open doorway. He’d removed his jacket and vest. His neckcloth hung loose around his neck. For a moment, she believed she’d conjured him from the deep well of her desires. They gazes met.

  He was very real. All too real.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she managed to say.

  “I was in my study. I couldn’t sleep.” He waited a beat. “You told us this evening you didn’t play.”

  Eden didn’t answer.

  He walked toward her, his footsteps silent, until he stood beside her. “You didn’t want to take the attention away from Victoria Willis.”

  Eden found her voice, but had trouble looking at him. He was too handsome, his presence overwhelming. “It seemed best.”

  He tilted her head up with one finger and whispered, “And you really haven’t lost your memory, have you?”

  Chapter 10

  Eden didn’t want to lie, not to him, not anymore. But she couldn’t tell him the truth.

  Lord Penhollow sat down on the piano bench beside her, his back to the instrument. “Play.”

  “What shall I play?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Her fingers trembled as she touched the ivory keys. She was all too aware of him, of his thigh brushing against hers, of his arm leaning on the wood dividing the keys from the strings, of the intensity in his face.

  For a moment, her mind went blank. She could barely remember her name, let alone why she was here. Her fingers stuck a D chord and then began moving almost with a will of their own. Mozart.

  The music had been written to be played by moonlight. It wasn’t an easy piece. Its mood changed swiftly, flowing from pensive contemplation to almost joyous rapture and back again.

  She played for him as she’d played for no other, letting the music speak words that could never, should never be spoken between them.

  His expression sober, he leaned his head down on his arm, listening. The light from the single candle encircled them.

  Eden didn’t feel the burn of tears until the first one trickled down her cheek. She struggled to hold back the others. Her throat ached with the pain of regret.

  Still she played, her fingers running over the keys, striking chords. Another tear escaped, this time falling free and striking the back of her hand just as she finished the final chord.

  The music vibrated in the air. Neither spoke. Eden couldn’t face him. She lowered her head, staring at the contrast of her fingers against the cream-colored keys.

  The back of his fingers stroked her cheek. She shivered at his touch, then closed her eyes, pressing her cheek closer, wanting these few moments between them.

  Her tears flowed freely now. She tasted them on her lips, and then, tasted him. His fingers brushed her lips softly, before his lips hovered near hers in silent question.

  Eden had never kissed before. The women of Madame Indrani’s did not kiss. A kiss was too intimate, too personal. A poet had once said that a kiss could claim a woman’s soul, and never give it back and Madame had trained her women to believe it.

  But now, Eden craved that intimacy. The blood roaring in her ears, she wet her lips and parted them.

  He needed no other invitation. Their lips met.

  The kiss was far more gentle than she’d anticipated. His lips were smooth and soft. Kissing him felt as natural as breathing and she relaxed into it with a small sigh.

  His arms came around her, pulling her closer. Her hands still rested on the piano keys. She raised them now and placed them awkwardly upon his shoulders.

  His lips, pressed against hers, curved into a smile, a heartbeat before his arms tightened and his kiss deepened.

  What had started off as simple and innocent flared into passion. Her breasts flattened against the solid strength of his chest. Separated by only the thin layers of cotton material between them, she could feel the quickened pulse of his heart. Her nipples tightened in response.

  The tip of his tongue gently stroked her lower lip. It tickled and she gasped in surprise. His tongue sweetly entered her mouth and she really learned how to kiss.

  This was intimate … but very exciting.

  Eden drank her fill of him. He’d been sipping brandy. She could taste it in the kiss, mingled with the salt from her tears. His skin smelled of the spice scent of his shaving soap he’d used a few hours earlier.

  But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be closer and hooked her arms around his neck.

  He chuckled deep in his throat. His hands on her waist, he lifted her up to sit on his lap.

  Eden faced him, her bent legs embracing his body. She kissed him back now. He’d shown her how and she reveled in the feel of his body pressed against hers. Placing her hand against his jaw, she delighted in the texture of his whiskered growth beneath her fingers and the movement of his muscles as he devoured her with his kiss.

  Their movements pushed her nightdress up her thighs. Pressed against his black, finely woven breeches, she could feel the long, hard length of him reaching almost to his waistband. Something possessive and proud soared inside her, opening her to him. She pressed closer.

  His hand ran up her bare thigh and slipped beneath the nightdress. Their kiss went deeper and deeper as if they could pull the very breath from each other. She tugged at his shirt, wanting clothes removed between them. Her fingers slipped under the waist of his breeches and her fingertips brushed the hard velvety head of his erection.

  His hand came round and captured hers, preventing her from exploring further. He broke the kiss and leaned back against the pianoforte, his breathing heavy.

  Eden tossed her hair back, a wildness thrumming through her. She leaned her arms on his chest and bit his bottom lip. “Why did you stop? I want to touch you. I need to feel you.”

  She reached to kiss him again, but he shook his head, taking both her wrists in his hands.

  “If we don’t stop here, then I’ll never stop.”

  Eden rubbed her breasts against his chest. Her nipples tightened, anticipating his touch. “Then let’s not stop.”

  His eyes glowed in the candlelight. She waited. She felt wanton, she felt powerful… s
he felt honest. This, she was trained for. This, she understood.

  Suddenly, he rose, bringing her up with him. Strong arms cradled her shoulders and her legs. He blew out the candle and carried her from the drawing room to the hallway leading to her bedroom.

  Eden threw her arms around his shoulders, breathing in the scent of warm man and starched cotton. Tomorrow, she would leave, but she would have tonight.

  He pressed her door open with his shoulder. The room was dark save for the moonlight coming in through the panes of the French doors and spreading across the bed. Outside, the fountain splashed and crickets called.

  Eden’s heartbeat quickened as he didn’t waste time but crossed to the bed and laid her down upon the sheets, the bed still indented where she had been resting earlier. She reached for him.

  But Lord Penhollow didn’t follow her onto the bed. Instead he backed away, moving into the shadows.

  Eden came up on one elbow. “Aren’t you joining me?”

  “No.”

  Her passion-fuddled mind had difficulty understanding. “No?” She came up on her knees. “But I thought—We were just…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t put into words what they’d been doing in the drawing room. Oh, she knew many descriptions for it, but none of that matched this racing of her heart and the almost desperate need inside her. “Don’t you want me?”

  He gave a shaky laugh and then whispered, “I burn for you. I want nothing more than to be buried inside you and feel your body around me.”

  Eden groaned with the aching desire his words inspired. She reached out. “Then come to me.”

  “I can’t.”

  Eden dropped her hand to the bed, gathering the sheets in a fist clenched in frustration. “Why?”

  “Because there is something I want from you more.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I want you to trust me.”

  Trust. Eden sat back on her heels. She combed her hair back from her face with her hands. “What if I can’t give you that?”

  “You will,” he said fiercely. “Because I always get what I want.”

  Her heart seemed to stop. “What if what you want… is not what you expect?”

  “You’re an innocent, Eden. I could never believe you guilty of wrongdoing.”

  “An innocent?” she repeated with disbelief. “What makes you believe that, my lord?”

  His teeth flashed white in the darkness. “My sweet Eden, I could tell by your kiss. I’m the first man you’ve kissed, although you learn quickly.”

  His absolute conviction frightened her.

  “My lord, I’m far from the innocent that you think—”

  “No, stop. Aren’t we all guilty of something?” he practically growled.

  His anger surprised her. She pulled back just as he crossed the room to her. His hands grasped her arms and lifted her to meet his kiss. This kiss was different from the earlier. It was savage, possessive, and branded her completely as his.

  He let go and Eden slid to the bed, unable to move.

  Her body cried for more.

  He stood over the bed. “You’re mine,” he said. “But I want more than just this, Eden. When I take you, it will be when I can claim all of you. Your heart, your mind… your soul.” Without another word, he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  It was hours before Eden could fall asleep and when she did, she knew she would not be leaving on the morrow.

  “Wake up, Miss Eden! We must get you ready for church. You’ve already missed your chance at an early morning riding lesson with Lord Penhollow. He said to let you sleep and you can have your lesson tomorrow.”

  Good, Eden thought, and covered her head with her pillow.

  Betsy wasn’t going to let her sleep. “Come, Miss Eden. It’s time for church. It would please Lady Penhollow no end if you miss church. You’ll be the talk of Hobbles Moor.”

  Eden struggled to open her eyes. She sat up on the bed and pushed her hair out of her face. “Church?” she asked sluggishly. “I don’t go to church.”

  Betsy whirled around. “Don’t go to church? You must go to church. Everyone in Hobbles Moor goes to church. Why, I’ve never heard of such a thing. It must be that memory sickness. You’ve forgotten that you’ve gone to church.”

  Eden rubbed her eyes, and stifled a yawn. “You’re right, I’ve forgotten,” she muttered and would have fallen back on her pillow again except for Betsy’s next words.

  “Lord Penhollow is expecting you to be ready within the half hour.”

  Now Eden was awake. She climbed out of bed. “He’s taking me to church?”

  “Of course he is. He’s taking you and his mother.”

  Eden began splashing cool water on her face. The last time she’d been in a church was thirteen years ago when she’d slipped inside one to warm up during a freezing winter. The vicar had run her out and she’d not stepped foot in one since.

  Remembering the comments about last night’s low neckline, Eden suggested, “Why don’t you pick something out?”

  “I’d be happy to, miss,” Betsy answered, and chose the periwinkle blue, Lord Penhollow’s favorite color.

  Eden eyed the gown’s decolletage and sighed. “You’d best lay out the Kashmir shawl too.”

  A half hour later, Eden was dressed and ready to go. Lord and Lady Penhollow waited for her in the drawing room.

  “I hear you’ve forgotten what it was like to go to church,” Lady Penhollow announced with a skeptical lift of one eyebrow.

  Eden wondered how she knew that already. Betsy had only left the bedroom once to get a cup of chocolate. Could the word have traveled so quickly through the servants up to Lady Penhollow?

  Eden kept her expression pleasant. “Good morning to you, my lady, my lord. It is true. I don’t recall attending a Sunday service.” That much was true!

  Lord Penhollow stepped forward. “It makes no difference, Mother.” He changed the subject. “Both of you ladies look lovely this morning. I shall be the envy of the congregation. Are we ready to go?”

  Both ladies perked up a bit at his compliment and replied in the affirmative.

  The small church was packed by the time they arrived. Betsy was right, everyone in Hobbles Moor was there including Mr. and Mrs. Willis and their friends. Lady Penhollow hurried over to greet them, but Mrs. Willis gave her a cool reception.

  “Poor Mother,” Lord Penhollow said. “She wants them to like her so very much.”

  “And don’t you care what they think?” Eden asked.

  He shot her a heart-stopping smile. “I refuse to worry about what they think.”

  “Yes, well, it isn’t so easy for a woman as it is for a man,” she answered honestly.

  “Don’t let them bother you.”

  “I won’t, but I’m stronger than your mother.”

  He directed her inside church. A member of the Penhollow family had been attending this church since the day it was built back in 1142. Their pew was located at the front of the church directly beneath the pulpit.

  Eden held back, suddenly nervous. “I didn’t realize we would be sitting in front of everyone.”

  “I thought you were made of sterner stuff,” he reminded her in a low voice. “There’s no reason to be afraid, Eden. I’ll be beside you.”

  She only nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He led her to the pew and they took their places. Lady Penhollow joined them right before the service started.

  In the end, Eden’s fears had been groundless. Lord Penhollow stood by her side through the church service, whispering cues. “Stand up, head bowed.” “Kneel.” There was no judgment in his voice. He even turned the pages of the hymnal so that Eden could recite the creeds with the others who knew them by heart and slowly, she relaxed, beginning to feel like a member of this community. She belonged… and it was a wonderful feeling.

  That afternoon it rained. Instead of going to his study and working on papers, Lord Penhollow stayed with Eden in the drawin
g room, playing cards and games of chess. He was a terrible chess player but a graceful loser and his teasing comments about her moves brought tears of laughter to her eyes.

  Lady Penhollow sat with them, pretending to do needlework. She didn’t find anything funny in their lighthearted banter and as the afternoon wore on, her face grew tighter and tighter until it resembled nothing more than a dried apple with a lace cap on top of it. Occasionally she would tell Lord Penhollow she wanted to see him alone, but he deftly ignored her requests and stayed right across the game table from Eden.

  After a light dinner of chicken, the three of them returned to the drawing room and Lord Penhollow asked her to play the pianoforte.

  Lady Penhollow turned on Eden. “I thought you said last night that you don’t play. Is this something else you suddenly remember?”

  Lord Penhollow answered her. “She said she didn’t play because she didn’t want anyone to make an unflattering comparison between herself and Miss Willis.” He wore a jacket this evening of evergreen superfine over fawn-colored trousers. The jacket color brought out the blue in his eyes.

  “An unflattering comparison?” Lady Penhollow raised her eyebrows. “Miss Willis has been trained by the finest music teacher in Cornwall.”

  Lord Penhollow sighed. “Yes, well, I know it is difficult for Miss Eden to compete against such a fine credential, but I’d like to hear her play this evening all the same.”

  “Very well,” Lady Penhollow said stiffly. “If she is so wonderful, let her play. I for one will not be an easy audience.”

  “I would never imagine you anything but, Mother.” Laughter lurked in his eyes. He turned to Eden. “Will you play?”

  For him, she would do anything. As she took her seat at the pianoforte, she wondered what would happen if she did tell him the truth. Would he still accept her?

  Her fingers ran over the keys experimentally while her mind drifted to what she and Lord Penhollow had been doing on this same bench last night. She hit a wrong chord and Lady Penhollow snorted in derision.

  Determined to win her over, Eden started with a minuet. After the light tune, she moved effortlessly into a sonata. She was halfway through a third piece, a concerto played in allegro, when Lady Penhollow set aside her needlework and gave the music her full attention.