Tomorrow when she met Tobias for lunch she would finally broach the subject. She had respected his silence on the matter but she hadn’t the time for playing his game now. Her game was about to come to an end, and she intended to win it.
Teresa was taking breakfast the following morning when the footman opened the door and Sorcha strode in.
“What a lovely surprise.” She went to her. “May I offer you tea or breakfast?”
“I’ve come to talk,” the Scotswoman said with her usual forthrightness.
Teresa’s stomach did a somersault. “All right.” She dismissed the footman then went to the sideboard and poured two cups of tea. “Do sit.”
Sorcha’s face was grim. “I dinna wish to marry, Teresa. I think ye ken it, but ye’ve niver asked me why.”
She had avoided doing so. Knowing Sorcha’s reason for avoiding marriage might make her task more difficult, and her brother intended her to marry anyway.
Just as her parents had intended her to marry Mr. Waldon.
An obstruction seemed to lodge in her throat. She shook her head.
“I’ve so many ideas for our family’s land. We anly lack the capital to make the improvements.” Sorcha sat forward till she was on the edge of the chair.
“But that’s all changed nou. Mr. Baker-Frye wants to invest in ma brither’s estate. He says he’s always had a yearning to be a gentleman farmer, but his family’s business came to him an he’s got to keep it going. Moira told him aboot the troubles we’ve had an he’s gone to talk wi’ Duncan this morning.”
“This is wonderful news!”
“But dinna ye see? I wish to continue as steward o’ our family’s lands. I’ve worked so hard. To be sent away nou to be housewifie to some laird . . .” She shook her head. “I canna do it.”
Teresa nodded slowly, heaviness surrounding her heart. “You must tell your brother.”
“I’ve long since told him. He willna listen. Ye’ve got to convince him that he mustn’t force me to wed.”
“He thinks I’m too meddlesome. My intervention would be more likely to hinder your case than help it.” But looking into Sorcha’s entreating eyes now she knew that even if the earl did not relent in his wish for his sister to wed, she must change her course. She could not be the reason that any woman did not live her dreams, even if it meant abandoning hers.
“’Tis no as ye say, Teresa. Ma brither thinks highly o’ ye. He’ll listen to ye if ye speak for me.”
She drew a long breath. “I will try to help you.”
Sorcha clasped her hand for a moment only, her grip strong and certain.
“Thank ye, friend.” She stood, then she paused. “But . . . I’ve no told ye all.”
Teresa’s stomach tightened. “Oh?”
“’Tis for no small purpose Duncan wishes me to wed. The Eads title an lands can descend by the female line. He wants me to inherit from him. He wants me to wed an bear sons so that ma sister Elspeth, next in line, will niver come into the land.”
“But why doesn’t he—”
“He’ll no marry again.” A crease formed between her dark brows. “I think ye care for ma brither, an it pains me to speak nou. But if he didna wed an heiress to save his lands, Teresa, he’ll no wed anyone for any reason. When our sister Miranda died, then anly months later the birthing took his wifie an wee son, I think he died inside some too.”
“His . . . son?”
“Aye. Nou do ye see?”
She nodded. Finally she saw all too clearly.
At lunch she did not encourage Tobias’s confidences. If he and Una wished to fritter away their chance at happiness, she would not stand in the way of that tragedy.
She’d made an appointment with two of the brides-to-be, so to lift her spirits she dressed in her favorite walking gown, a frock of pink pinstriped muslin with tiny puff sleeves and a net fichu, and went to the hotel.
None of the Eads ladies were to be found in the parlor or their bedchambers, so she ducked into the servants’ stairwell and went below. The kitchen was quiet, with only Monsieur Le Coq and Lily by stove. Lily stirred the contents of a pot in slow, wide circles.
“Guid day, Teresa!” She hefted the pan and set it on the counter. “I’ve been teaching Marcel hou to cook taffy. Ye’ve come just in time.”
“Mm. Delicious.” Teresa settled on a high stool and watched Lily scrape her treasure into a flat pan.
“Care for a taste, mademoiselle?” The chef snagged a thick dollop of sugared butter from the bowl and proffered it to her with a bow.
She had no heart for confections at present. But the taffy was rich and sweet and stuck to her fingers, then somehow to her cheek and brow too.
She set her elbow on the counter and her chin on her palm. “So much for donning my finery for the modiste’s shop.”
Lily giggled. It lightened Teresa’s heart. Joy could be found in little things.
She would take comfort in that when this adventure was over and she was home again.
“Have you seen Moira or Abigail about?” she asked. “I was to go with them to the modiste’s.”
“Didna Moira’s message find ye at home? The modiste hasna finished the gowns, so they all went aff to the tea room wi’ Mrs. Caruthers.”
“Leaving you here to cook?”
“’Tisn’t a penance.” She offered a twinkling smile to the Frenchman. He lifted her hand and placed a fervent kiss upon it. “They hoped ye’d join them,” Lily added over her shoulder.
“Perhaps after I have another bite of this delicacy.” Perhaps not at all.
Perhaps she would go straight home, pack her portmanteau, and return to Harrows Court Crossing and the remainder of her life there. At least it wouldn’t be spent as Mr. Waldon’s wife.
That notion at least made her smile. Her smile widened as the lovebirds stared into each other’s eyes.
She was seizing the moment of their distraction to lick taffy off a forefinger when Lord Eads appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her finger slid from between her lips with a pop.
A slow grin curved up one side of his mouth.
Annie had once told her that men liked to imagine things in women’s mouths—for what reason, Teresa never quite discovered. So, because she would not again have the opportunity to test this, she slipped her middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it.
His grin disappeared.
“Duncan!” Lily said. “Do come taste the taffy.”
He strode into the kitchen. “Forgive me for declining, but I’ve need o’ Miss Finch-Freeworth upstairs.” He grasped her hand and drew her toward the door. She tossed a shrug to Lily and the chef and allowed him to pull her into the narrow servants’ stairwell.
“What is happening upst—” He caught her mouth beneath his.
It was a hungry kiss, and she met it with all the desperate desire she felt for him but had thought she would never again be able to satisfy. Her hands found his arms then his chest. When she slipped them beneath his coat to explore the contours of muscle through his shirt she thought he would stop her. Instead a deep rumble of encouragement sounded in his chest. It set off a throbbing ache inside her. His hands cupped her behind and he dragged her against him.
She gasped and broke free of his mouth. “Are you doing this only because I licked my fingers?”
He replied with a series of kisses that grew increasingly deep and culminated in her moaning softly and struggling to press even closer to him.
“Five,” he said against her cheek.
“I only licked two.” He stroked the tender inner crease of her thigh and pleasure swamped her. “Clearly I should have found a batch of taffy weeks ago,” she panted.
“Elspeth is five.”
The import of his words penetrated her pleasure. She pushed him away with her palms.
“Elspeth? Are you certain?”
“Yer parents will be disappointed.” The grin that lurked at the corner of his delicious mouth nearly got the best of her. Mind whirling, she
fought against desire
“My parents? Whatever—” Her mouth dropped open. “Mr. Waldon!”
“Aye, Waldon.” He seemed to search her face. She supposed she looked as stunned as she felt. She could not fathom it.
Then abruptly it seemed the most obvious thing in the world.
Her heartbeats lurched into a gallop.
“Five,” she could only say.
He took her hand and with an inscrutable look started up the stairs. Amidst the clamor of nerves and delirious stupefaction Teresa considered telling him about the decision she had come to earlier. But she could not. She had dreamed of this—so many dreams she could not count them. Nothing could stop her now.
The door before which he halted was not in the same part of the hotel as his sisters’ bedchambers. He looked down at her, a question in his gorgeous eyes.
“I’m certain,” she said.
He opened the door and she stepped inside.
Sumptuous beauty was spread before her. Carpeted with cloths of rich colors, layered with giant silk cushions, and strewn with fresh pink rose petals, it looked like some sort of harem chamber. She was speechless. She had not marked him as a romantic or a seducer. But this had taken time to prepare.
“I didn’t think—that is, I didn’t imagine—” she stuttered. “You knew I would summon up a fifth husband?”
“Managing female,” Duncan murmured, masking his satisfaction.
She turned her face up and her eyes shone with a wondering, wary light.
“If you think I am so managing I wonder that you have not asked why I haven’t found a willing husband for myself in all these weeks.”
“Do ye?”
“Why haven’t you?”
Because he was a daft fool. Because he was running as fast as he could yet losing ground. Because he needed to have her beneath him and if she belonged to another man that would never happen. Because he couldn’t bear the thought of it.
He touched her cheek then slid his fingers into her silken hair. He brushed a kiss across her lips, then traced the seam with his tongue, tasting her. “A wager’s a wager.” She tasted of buttery sugar and she was soft everywhere—
the dip beneath her ear, the contour of her throat, the curve of her neck to her shoulder. Her intoxicating lips.
She clutched him with slender hands. “You trusted that I would not renege on my part of the wager? This part?”
“Ye wanted me. No th’other way around.” Not the truth. He had wanted her since the moment he’d seen her. He’d tried to escape to Scotland to save himself, but she hadn’t allowed that.
“I did,” she whispered, stretching to allow him the flavor of her neck. “I do.
Oh.” Her hands convulsed on his shoulders. “Duncan, make love to me now before I lose my courage.”
“Ye’ve more courage than any leddy I’ve ever kent, Teresa Finch-
Freeworth.”
“Let’s not test that theory now, though. All right?”
He laughed and took her waist in his hands.
“Will you undress me?” Her voice quavered but her gaze was direct. “I understand that’s preferable.”
He smiled. “Aye, ’tis preferable.”
“Are you teasing me?”
“No. I’m thinking hou I’m the luckiest man on earth.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut. “Undress me. Please. Now. I don’t think I can bear to wait another minute.”
Garment by garment, slowly he revealed the body he’d been lusting over —forever, it seemed. She stood perfectly still, a rosy glow high on her cheeks and her breathing fast, and did not shy away when he finally drew the chemise over her head and discarded it.
“Yer beautiful.”
Her lashes lifted. “You are still dressed.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Remove your clothes too.” She caught her plump lower lip between her teeth. “Please.”
“Yer wager didna specify that.”
Her eyes popped wide. “But, I—Oh. You are teasing now.” Her grin was so sweet he had to taste it. She responded to his kiss with her entire naked body, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lush curves to him. He filled his hands with her soft behind and made her feel his desire.
She moaned. His cock jerked. He pulled her tight to him. She rocked her sex into him and slid her tongue into his mouth, and he knew that if he didn’t remove her from him now, in a moment he’d be taking her against the bedpost still fully dressed.
That was no way for a lady to lose her innocence. His lady.
He peeled her off him and had to force his attention up from her spectacular breasts. The aureoles were large and dusky pink and tight with her arousal.
“Lie down,” he said roughly, grabbing at one of his boots.
She pivoted to look about the chamber, her breasts swaying. “Anywhere?”
He tore at his cravat. “Anywhere.”
She disposed herself on her stomach on a pile of pillows on the floor. She sank into the cushions and cast a delighted grin over her shoulder.
He couldn’t unbutton his waistcoat fast enough.
She scooped a handful of rose petals and scattered them. “This is positively decadent,” she purred.
“Ye’ve got perfect hips.” He dragged his shirt over his head. “Wide. Strong.
Beautiful.”
“I cannot believe you are looking at my bared behind and telling me I have wide hips. I may die of shame.”
“Ye’ve no shame to speak o’.”
“It’s true. I’ve never seen any use for it. But perhaps I should have.”
He knelt and curved a palm over her buttock. She was soft. So soft. He dipped his thumb between her thighs. “I like ye shameless.”
“Oh— oh.”
“Spread yer knees, luve.”
She did as commanded and he drew her back against him.
Her breaths came brokenly. “What are you doing?”
“What I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw ye.” With his hands he guided her, stroking her against his erection until she released a long sigh.
Then he nestled his cock between her buttocks.
He closed his eyes and struggled for breath.
She had stiffened. He ran his palms over her hips then her slender waist and cradled her magnificent breasts in his hands. Her breathing deepened.
Giving her what they both wanted, finally Duncan released the past.
Teresa had heard that some women with large breasts could not feel acute sensation in them. She discovered now that she was most definitely not one of those women. Duncan teased her nipples into taut peaks and she felt it in her toes and lips and everywhere in between.
“Does this please ye?”
“Yes.” She moaned and trembled and pushed back against him. She wanted something else. Something more. She ached for it.
“Beautiful woman.” He thrust against her, and again, and the rhythm of her hips swaying forward grew heavy inside her, hot and damp. She went onto her elbows, wanting and wanting, rocking and hearing his sounds of pleasure that made her wild.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please.”
His hand delved between her thighs.
Pleasure. Ecstasy. His touch was perfect. She threw her head back and moaned. “Oh, Duncan.” Her body was tightening, coiling, burning with pleasure. It had never felt like this with her own hand, never—ever—
Pleasure seized her, cascading upon a series of choking moans. He turned her onto her back deep in the cushions, spread her knees, and put his hard, hot cockhead at her entrance. Then he took her virginity.
He was gentle at first, and then not so gentle because she wanted it. He was everything she had fantasized. He gave and gave, and when a droplet of sweat trickled down his chest she reached between them and gave back to him.
He groaned and thrust harder. Then harder yet. He used her deeply, completely and she clutched the cushions and convulsed again with astonished whimpers.
His release was sudden and fierce.
She twined her arms around his shoulders. Still inside her, he kissed her with great tenderness, his hand stealing over her waist and stroking the swell of her hip.
Finally he rolled onto his back.
With a great sigh of satisfaction, she threw out her arms to either side.
“That was very . . . nice.”
He chuckled. “Nice, hm?”
She grinned like a cat at the cream pot—a sleepy cat lying in the sun after lapping up the entire contents of the cream pot. Her eyelids drooped.
When she awoke it was dusk and Duncan was not in the bedchamber. She had not expected him to be.
She dressed, arranged her hair, and went home.
10
At ten o’clock the following morning she was at the writing desk in Diantha’s parlor, putting the final touches on her latest story, when Una and Tobias entered. They wasted no time in telling her their news. But she knew it before they spoke; their faces showed their joy.
“I am beside myself with happiness.” She embraced Una. “It has been my dearest wish for weeks, though I didn’t know if you had the courage to admit it, brother.”
“Courage wasn’t so much the problem.”
“He thought that because he didna have a title, I was too far above him.”
Una’s eyes crinkled. “But I set him straight.”
“After your brother did.” He took her hand.
“When did you ask for his approval, Toby?” Teresa tried to sound casual, as though she hadn’t been wondering every second what Duncan had been doing since the moment he left her napping in his harem room.
“An hour ago,” Tobias said. “He’d given it to me days ago, though. Seems he knew.”
He knew. As he undoubtedly knew she loved him.
When they departed she went to her room, instructed Annie to pack her luggage, and asked the footman to inquire at the nearest posting house as to the next mail coach leaving for Manchester. She changed into her second prettiest gown—second to the gown the Earl of Eads had removed from her the day before—and walked to the hotel.
How to Marry a Highlander (falcon club ) Page 10
