Earl of Westcliff: Wicked Regency Romance (Wicked Earls' Club)

by Meara Platt

  He set down the bowl of strawberries he’d brought up for her on the chance she was awake and hungry, disappointed when she didn’t stir from her sleep or so much as blink an eye. He came to her side and gently brushed a few stray curls off her cheek. Then, completely out of character for himself, he bent and kissed her brow before crossing the room and sinking onto the chair beside his desk to remove his boots.

  Abby must have heard the light scrape of the chair against the wooden floor. She woke up with a start, but her smile when she saw him flooded the room with sunshine. “Tynan, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Her voice had a sultry depth to it as she shook off her haze of sleep.

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  He stopped breathing when she arched her back and stretched like a contented kitten. Her chemise truly hid nothing of her body.

  Mother in heaven.

  He wanted to fling off his jacket, vest, and cravat. He wanted to rip off his shirt and claim this beautiful girl here and now. Where was the harm? They’d be married tomorrow. He got as far as taking off his jacket then stopped. Abby had just realized her state of undress and suddenly turned bashful. As she hastily wrapped the covers around herself, her gaze drifted to the strawberries.

  Her eyes lit up. “Are those strawberries?”

  He set his feet back in his boots and rose with a chuckle. “Yes, Abby. They’re for you. I thought you might be hungry and I remembered how much you enjoyed them the first night we met.”

  She eased back and shook her head. “They were delicious. May I have them now?”

  Her big, brandy eyes stared up at him with innocent anticipation.

  Innocent.

  That’s what she was, and it suddenly felt important for him to keep her that way. I can hold out one more day. Lord Coventry was finalizing arrangements for their wedding ceremony that would take place tomorrow.

  Yes, one more day.

  “Tynan? The strawberries?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Yes, my love. Eat as many as you wish. Have them all. But let me help you dress first.”

  She regarded him with confusion. “You’d like me to dress? I… I don’t have to.” But the fiery blush on her cheeks spoke otherwise. “That is, if you have other intentions.”

  “Rest assured, my intentions are thoroughly dishonorable. I’m a wicked earl, after all. But I’m also about to be booted out of the club. I’ll be a married man by this time tomorrow.” He shook his head and sighed. “And I think that it is important to our marriage that you maintain no doubt about my reason for marrying you. So, even though I wish to bury myself in your lovely, rose-scented body, I think I shall find an empty bed of my own for the next few hours.”

  She nodded, but had a pouty curve to her lips that he found irresistible. “You’re right, of course. You must think me wanton.”

  “No, my love. I just think you’re beautiful.” He crossed to her side in two strides and drew her into his arms. Her lush body responded to his touch, pressing to his hard planes and igniting a fire within him. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all the depth of his frustration.

  She responded with equal fervor, clinging to his shoulders and twisting his shirt between her fingers as she savored the heated moment.

  “I don’t ever want to let you go, Abby.” He tightened his hold on her, gently crushing her up against him.

  “Then don’t let go of me.” Her voice was whisper soft. “I’d rather have you than those strawberries. Although they do look awfully delicious.”

  He chuckled again and eased away. “Indeed, I’m sure they are. But not nearly as tempting as you. I’ll come by in a few hours to take you home. Tomorrow I will stand with you before the altar at St. Paul’s Cathedral and pledge my heart to you. I love you, Abby. I never want you to have any doubt or ever feel shame with me.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Abby stood in front of the altar at St. Paul’s Cathedral more certain than ever that she’d been blessed with a miracle. Not only was Tynan standing beside her looking wickedly handsome, but he also looked as though he had no second thoughts about taking her as his wife.

  Her brother had surprised Tynan by eagerly giving his consent to their marriage. In truth, he’d thoroughly shocked Tynan, for he’d thought the worst of Peter until that very moment. He hadn’t trusted Peter to do the right thing. Abby had worried as well. She knew her brother loved her, but feared the opium had destroyed every vestige of family love he’d ever held.

  To her relief, one thing Peter did not have the strength to do was negotiate the terms of her betrothal contract. Not that it mattered. Tynan would have given him anything he asked for. Lord Coventry had stepped forward to act on behalf of Peter, feeling it was his duty to protect her.

  Abby was up in arms that they were even negotiating terms. She wanted Tynan.

  She did not care that he was an earl.

  She did not care that he was wealthy.

  She wanted him.

  “Abby, having any regrets?” Tynan teased as their marriage ceremony was about to begin.

  “No, my love. I fear you are stuck with me.” She was barely able to contain her smile. The joy she felt was like a sunbeam lighting up the entire cathedral. But she did not know how to be any other way. She gave all of herself. This was her strength, but she also understood it was her aching vulnerability.

  Tynan took hold of her hand, surprisingly elated for a man who was about to give up his bachelorhood. This meant he’d be giving up his quarters and membership in the Wicked Earls’ Club. “I feel no remorse,” he’d told her earlier. “I’m no shallow youth who knows nothing of the world. I’ve seen and done too much, in truth. Yet, these experiences have prepared me for this moment. I’ll make myself available to Coventry should he ever need me, but there will be no more wild nights for me at the club… unless the woman I am bedding is you.”

  Abby looked forward to satisfying his needs in that regard. Their joining would be everything special. Passionate, tender. Meaningful. Filled with love.

  “I do,” Abby said in response to the archbishop’s question, giving Tynan’s hand a joyful squeeze.

  Tynan responded with his ‘I do” when asked the same question. “Yes, I will take Lady Abigail for better or for worse. I’ll protect her always.” He knew the qualities he wanted in a wife and declared aloud that Abby had them all. Strength of heart. Compassion and kindness. Beauty and intelligence.

  “Tynan, I love you,” she whispered when he bent to kiss her.

  What would have happened had he met her a few years ago? Would he have fallen in love with her then? She hoped he would have. But at that time, he might not have done anything about it. Women like Lady Bascom and the marchioness would have lured him away.

  She shook out of the thought as he led her down the steps from the altar and faced the ebullient horde that was his family rushing forward to congratulate them. Peter was not well enough to join their celebrations, but Abby had made certain to see him early this morning.

  Tynan wrapped his arm around Abby’s waist. “I love you, too. Brace yourself, the Braydens are about to descend on you.”

  Then she was out of his arms as Sophie and James hugged her to welcome her into the family. Tynan’s mother, aunts, cousins, and most of all, his brothers, gave her their sincere well wishes. “So, the wolf has caught his rabbit,” Ronan teased his brother as the three of them stood quietly aside while the rest of the family made their way out of the cathedral to Lord Coventry’s residence where the wedding breakfast was to be held. “Or should I say, the little rabbit has caught her wolf?”

  Tynan threw back his head and laughed. “Let’s just say we caught each other.”

  Ronan looked from one to the other. “Any regrets?”

  Tynan understood his brother was asking out of curiosity. He’d wondered the same about James when he’d married Sophie. “Not a one. You’ll understand when you find the right girl. Her smile will slam into your chest and you�
�ll be helpless to resist.”

  Ronan nodded thoughtfully.

  “But don’t go looking for love just yet,” Tynan teasingly warned. “I need you to keep your mind on estate matters while I’m in Falmouth with Abby.”

  Ronan cast Abby a wincing smile. “It isn’t much of a start for the two of you. Much of your time will be taken up with your brother, Abby.”

  Tynan replied for both of them. “It isn’t traditional, but nothing about my courtship of Abby has been. I didn’t even realize I was courting her. But her brother’s recovery is important to her and that’s what matters. Abby will fight as hard as she can to make it happen. She has me to help her now. She obviously has all of the Braydens in the palm of her hand and willing to help as well.”

  “Lord and Lady Coventry, too,” Ronan remarked.

  Tynan nodded and turned with a wink toward Abby. “They’ve practically adopted you as their daughter. I thought the buttons on Lord Coventry’s vest would pop off, he was beaming and so puffed up with pride as he walked you down the aisle.” He ran a hand raggedly through his hair. “But all jest aside, Abby. I’ll move heaven and earth to make you happy, I want you to know that.”

  “I do know it, my love.”

  Ronan cuffed him on the shoulder. “Lord, when did you get so wise? You were always such an ass.” Joshua and Finn had no idea what they’d just been talking about, but considered it their duty to cuff him as well.

  “Boys!” Their mother’s sharp rebuke carried halfway across the cathedral. Of course, they were among close family so she held nothing back in blistering her sons. Finally, she turned to Tynan. “Westcliff, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You are neglecting your new wife.”

  Abby shook her head and laughed.

  So did he.

  They rode to Lord Coventry’s home in the privacy of the Westcliff carriage, but they had little respite before they were crowded by relatives at the wedding breakfast. Every time Tynan approached Abby, someone steered her away. Every time she started toward Tynan, someone intercepted her.

  Tynan, apparently feeling a similar frustration to hers, suddenly swept her into his arms and marched toward the door. He paused at the threshold. “I shall neglect my new wife no longer. A good evening to all.”

  It was barely two o’clock in the afternoon.

  Finn was foolish enough to point it out and immediately received a cuff from their mother. “Be quiet, you foolscap.”

  Abby was blushing fiercely as Tynan called for his carriage. It was quickly brought around and within a few minutes they arrived at his townhouse. “Welcome home, Lady Westcliff.”

  Her heart was in her throat. “Thank you, Lord Westcliff.”

  He had a way of smiling at her that stole her breath away. He’d spoken to his brother about the power of a smile. His had captured her heart the moment she’d met him. It still had the power to enchant her. She was helpless to resist its charm.

  He surprised her by opening the front door himself. “I’ve given my staff the day off. We have the house all to ourselves.”

  He lifted her into his arms again and carried her upstairs to his quarters. The room was decidedly masculine, his elegance and power reflected in the mahogany paneling and pine green drapes. His large, four-poster bed dominated the room and rested upon a maroon and green oriental patterned carpet. His writing desk was also of polished mahogany. Her rooms adjoined his, but she had yet to see them or the rest of the house. “I’ll take you on a tour of your new home afterward. We have more pressing business to attend to first.”

  She was his now and he meant to make her so in every way.

  Although his servants had been given the day off, they’d anticipated their needs and provided amply for them. Wine and refreshments had been set upon silver trays atop his writing desk. There was an enormous amount of food, enough to feed them for a week. They would never have to leave his bedchamber.

  He put her down gently in the center of his bed. “Abby…”

  “You needn’t be polite or worried about my delicate sensibilities, Tynan. I don’t think I have any when it comes to you. Nor am I hungry for anything but you,” she admitted with a blush. “I’m glad you got the special license. I’m glad our wedding took place today. It was a beautiful affair and perfect in every way.”

  “So are you, my love.” Her breath caught in her throat as he slipped the tea rose silk gown off her and then set it aside. His gaze was hot and fiery as he slid his hands along her exposed legs to remove her shoes and stockings.

  She trembled with pleasure at his touch.

  He had big, nicely formed hands, but they weren’t those of a pampered lord. There was a slight roughness to them that heightened her pleasure as he slid them along her skin.

  “I love the softness of your body and its subtle rose scent.” He kissed the inside of her thigh, his intimate touch setting off fireworks throughout her body. Every part of her was in a frenzy of excitement. A thousand butterflies were flying amok in her belly.

  He cast her a sensual smile and drew back to remove his own clothing.

  She held her breath as he stripped off all but his trousers, and watched him with avid curiosity, barely able to concentrate for the hot tingles rampaging through her body.

  His eyes were alight with the promise of passion.

  He had looked as sinfully handsome on the night they’d first met, the taut muscles beneath his golden skin rippling in powerful waves along his solid arms and broad chest.

  Mercy.

  He returned to her side, his hands once more gentle and caressing on her body as he traced them over her hips, her breasts, and then over her shoulders to remove her delicate chemise. He took a deep breath as he studied her womanly splendor, and then released a stream of air with a strained groan. “Abby, you’re so beautiful.”

  He said no more as he unpinned her auburn hair and ran his fingers lightly through the long strands, allowing them to tumble in a soft cascade over her shoulders.

  No man had ever touched her like this. She suddenly felt embarrassed, for she wore nothing but her modesty.

  But he was a wicked earl and had no such modesty.

  Nor did he wish to hide himself from her.

  She looked her fill. Her feelings had been stripped bare from the moment she’d met Tynan and now her body was as well. But she trusted him. With her heart. With her happiness. With their marriage. He removed his trousers and turned to her so that his every sinew and muscle was revealed.

  “Abby, let me guide you. I won’t hurt you.” He kissed her softly on the mouth and then settled beside her on his bed. She sat up with the sheet covering her chest. Her shoulders were bare, her skin a pale pink in contrast to her vivid auburn curls spilling over them.

  She reached out to him, knowing he would be especially gentle with her this first time.

  He slipped under the covers and rolled her under him, his gaze hot and seductive as the weight of his body intimately pressed against hers. “I love you, Tynan,” she said and lost herself in the majestic power of his touch.

  He was heat and hard strength and muscled, golden skin.

  Then he was fully atop her, propped on one elbow while his hands stroked over her body and stirred the flames of her already heightened desire.

  The weight of him felt reassuring. “I’ll be here for you, Abby. Always.”

  She ran her hands over the taut, rippled planes of his body. She arched and moaned and closed her eyes to experience each euphoric sensation roused by his hands and mouth on her hot, tingling skin.

  She opened all of herself to him.

  He caressed her intimately with his fingers, probing the most sensitive spot between her thighs until she was a liquid pool of fire. He closed his mouth over her breast, teasing and suckling its sensitive peak until she could no longer contain herself and cried out in fervent ecstasy.

  “Move with me, my love,” he said, entering her with a gentleness she never imagined possible. He took her passionate crie
s into his mouth, kissing her and making her feel so truly loved, so truly joined. One heart. One body.

  Then his cries matched hers and they soared together for a long, splendid moment, like two majestic birds floating among the clouds. He held her closely, their damp bodies in a hopeless tangle between the sheets as they slowly drifted to ground, panting and laughing and both of them feeling quite fulfilled.

  “Tynan, dear heaven. Is it always like this?” Her heart was hammering in her chest.

  Her bones had turned to pudding.

  She couldn’t stand on her own two legs if she tried.

  But she didn’t have to stand alone anymore. She didn’t have to face Falmouth and her brother’s problems on her own. Tynan would be standing by her side.

  “It will always be with you, my love.” He trailed light kisses along her throat, his manner comforting as well as arousing. He shifted her in his arms so that her body rested atop his, the heat and magnificent power of his body exciting her again. The subtle scent of roses – her scent – mingled with his masculine sandalwood scent. The sensation of his hot skin and the golden hairs across his chest felt divine against her cheek. “How do you feel, my love?”

  She purred contentedly. “Like a very wicked countess.”

  “Ah, but that will not do. This earl has given up his wicked ways.”

  “Not all of them, I hope.”

  “Not all.” He kissed the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat, and then grinned naughtily as he rolled her onto her back and settled over her, the weight of him intimate and exquisite. “I still have the peacock feather.”

  “Hurrah!” She cheered again and kissed him soundly on the lips. “I shall finally find out what all the fuss is about.”

  He laughed. “I love you, Abby.”

  They slept little that night, but when the first light of dawn filtered in from the window, Abby awoke in Tynan’s arms. She was Lady Westcliff now, well and truly. She was no longer alone and overburdened. She had Tynan to stand beside her now. Sunlight fell across his handsome face and illuminated his golden hair. She snuggled against him. “I love you, my wicked earl.”