by Jane Goodger
Graham groaned, and Katherine smiled, glad to finally be giving him such pleasure.
“Kiss me, Katherine,” he said, his voice strained.
“Here?” She looked doubtfully at his cock.
“God, yes.”
She gave the very tip a delicate kiss, and he moved subtly toward her, his breathing harsh, his entire body taut. And when she opened her lips and took him slightly into her mouth, he cried out. In one smooth movement, Graham lay atop her, then rolled until she was on top of him, the towel unraveling and leaving her naked, his mouth hungry on hers. His hands moved down her body until they cupped her bottom, moving her against him. She could feel his arousal, hard against her stomach, as pure heat flooded through her and pooled between her legs.
He rolled again, and Katherine thought he’d do what he always did, enter her. Instead, he kissed her, then moved to her breasts, loving them with his mouth and tongue, creating an intense heat that Katherine knew would end with that wonderful feeling she craved. She moved her hips and he chuckled as he suckled on one nipple, then the other.
Graham sat back on his haunches and smiled down at her. “You are so damned beautiful.” He skimmed his hands down her body, to her outer thighs, then to the soft and sensitive inner thighs just inches from where her body throbbed for release.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes.” Katherine almost didn’t recognize that voice.
He put his hand between her legs, his eyes intent on her as he touched her, moving his thumb back and forth before inserting a finger into her. She closed her eyes as the need grew nearly unbearable. God, he knew what she wanted, knew how to help her find release.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
Her eyes flew open.
“I want to kiss you, Katherine. The way you kissed me. Here.” He moved his thumb against her swollen nub.
She couldn’t respond, but he must have seen the need in her eyes, so he dipped his head, his eyes on hers, as he licked her. “Oh my God,” she said, her hips pushing up toward him. How could something feel so good?
This was what Graham had meant when he’d said he wanted to ravish her. She felt ravished. She felt loved. He made love to her with his mouth and his fingers until that wonderful feeling burst through her, more intense, more overwhelming than anything she’d ever felt before. She cried out, long and hoarse as her body jerked in pleasure.
She was still pulsing when he entered her, and she welcomed him by lifting her hips against him. He moved slowly, as he kissed her breasts, her neck, her mouth. It was carnal and wonderful and more than she ever dreamed making love could be. And when he moved his hand down between them and touched her again, she cried out, a sudden rush of pleasure making her arch her back and find release again. His thrusts became more urgent, harder, as if he’d also been overcome with need. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue against hers before arching his back and finding his own release.
Graham stayed inside her a long time before he could bring himself to withdraw. He wanted to stay like this forever, feeling her hot, tight body around him. Finally, he withdrew and lay on his back, pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head.
His wife snuggled close to him, kissing his shoulder now and then as if to remind him she was still there. After a time, she said, “Should I go to my room?”
He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her sweet-smelling head. “This is your room.”
They woke near dawn and made love again, then slept until the sun was alarmingly high in the sky. Graham woke first and gazed down at his still-sleeping wife, thanking God for giving her to him and for helping him to realize his mistake. He was sickened by how he’d treated her, and could not purge from his memory the looks of hurt she’d given him over the past few days. He’d make it up to her forever.
They would be poor. They might never have gas lighting or proper bathrooms, but they would be happy. Perhaps he’d overlooked something, perhaps his extremely competent solicitor had come up with a plan. Maybe he could finally find a bank to give him a loan so he could repair Avonleigh’s textile mill. It seemed all his problems were smaller now that Katherine was in his life and in his bed.
The morning’s sun, edging across the bed, finally touched her face and Katherine slowly opened her eyes.
“Good morning, love,” Graham said, kissing her.
She smiled and drew her arms around him. “A very good morning.” Then she frowned. “Today is November twelfth. You leave in two days.”
“You are coming with me.”
She narrowed her eyes and he kissed her again. “I thought you said we couldn’t afford for me to come with you.”
“We can’t. But I can’t spend that much time away from you. Not now. Probably not ever.”
“You are so smitten,” she said, grinning.
“Far more than smitten. I’m completely in love. It’s extremely disconcerting.”
She kissed his mouth, but since they were both smiling, it lost much of its effect. “And why is that?”
“The Miserable Marquess is not used to feeling so ridiculously happy. I think it’s giving me indigestion.”
Katherine laughed and sat up. “Speaking of indigestion. I am starving.”
“So am I,” Graham said, drawing her back down and showing her a hunger of a different kind.
Chapter 18
The two of them were quite disgustingly in love. That day and the next, when they weren’t in bed making love, they were going for long walks and gazing at each other like fools. Mr. Chase was ecstatic.
Everett Chase prided himself on being an honorable and honest man, something Mr. Wright had seen almost immediately. Either that or he was a gambling man with few options. Before the Wrights had left, Mr. Wright had handed him an envelope and directed Everett to give it to Lord Avonleigh “on the chance I’m right about the lad and he turns out not to be a rascal.”
It had been a surprising meeting to say the least. Mr. Wright had sought him out the morning they were due to leave. The house had been shrouded in misery, and Everett had been feeling more than a bit depressed. His lordship, who was more son to him than master, was despondent, feeling betrayed by the only woman he’d ever loved. And feeling the weight of all he had lost.
For years, Everett had tried to direct him, tried to make him realize that his father’s death was not on his hands. But it had been a difficult task to convince Graham that his words to his father had not led to his father’s suicide—for they likely had. Everett had known for years that the old marquess was . . . different. Though the marquess had been discreet, it was nearly impossible to keep such a secret from his valet. And though he was personally disgusted by the notion of a man loving another man physically, Graham’s father was such a good man, Everett had overlooked this one characteristic.
To a young man, discovering his father with another man had been both shocking and devastating. Graham had said things he no doubt regretted. Everett hadn’t heard the exchange, but he knew what had happened for the marquess, heartbroken, had told him. Graham had discovered him with his longtime companion, and the marquess had been destroyed by his son’s horrified reaction. Of course, he hadn’t expected any other reaction, but had foolishly thought his son would never find out. Everett would never forget the raw pain he’d seen in the marquess’s eyes that afternoon. He had feared for his lordship’s life, had even gone so far as to hide the key to the old marquess’s gun cabinet. But it hadn’t been enough for a determined man.
It was early afternoon and Graham had been gone for about an hour, when Everett heard the gunshot, his entire body jerking at the sound. He knew what he would find—at least he thought he’d known. Instead, he saw Graham running toward his father’s study, crying out when he saw the marquess. When Everett entered the study, Graham was holding his father’s body, rocking back and forth, and crying over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He’d known then the weight the young man would bear for the rest
of his life.
Graham had been inconsolable. He’d loved his father unconditionally, but that love had been tested by one moment, one exchange that could never be taken back. Had Graham’s father not killed himself, Mr. Chase had absolutely no doubt that the two of them would have talked things out and come to an understanding. The fact that Graham had returned to get the pen given to him by his father told Mr. Chase that.
Mr. Chase sighed and stared at the sealed envelope Mr. Wright had given to him. He’d written “Mr. Spencer” on it. Cheeky American. And Mr. Chase was only to give it to Lord Avonleigh should Graham prove to Mr. Chase that his daughter was truly happy in her marriage, that Graham had demonstrated love and devotion.
If their heartening display of affection was proof, then indeed, Lord and Lady Avonleigh were quite, quite happy.
Graham was happier than he’d been since his father’s death. He’d never imagined such a feeling of complete contentment. He was whistling—whistling—as he took off his cravat when Mr. Chase entered the room. Katherine was in the room next door, packing for their trip to London.
“Sir, I have a letter for you from Mr. Wright. He gave it to me before he left with instructions to give it to you now.”
Graham looked at the envelope curiously, smiling a bit when he saw the inscription. “Do you know what this is about, Mr. Chase?”
“No sir.”
Graham cracked open the seal and took out one small slip of paper.
You’ve made my daughter happy. There is five hundred thousand pounds in Baring’s Bank in your name. Keep her happy.
Graham read the letter again. Then again. “Are you certain this is from Katherine’s father?” he said, afraid to hope too much. It was an obscene sum.
“Yes sir. Is something wrong?”
“No, Mr. Chase. Something is very, very right. Katherine!” he shouted. She appeared at his door almost instantly, brought quickly by the urgency in his voice. He handed her the note. “Did you know about this?”
She took the note, a furrow forming between her eyes. “What is it? Who is it from?”
“Your father.”
Katherine’s mouth dropped open. “My father?” She read the note again, her hand shaking slightly. “But this is far, far more than . . . I don’t understand. Oh my, Graham. Do you know what this means?”
“It means Avonleigh is saved. It means I can do nearly all that I planned.” He hugged her and the two of them bounced up and down in their joy as Mr. Chase looked on, a smile on the old man’s face—despite Lord Avonleigh’s rather undignified behavior.
No one closely observing Lord and Lady Avonleigh would ever believe they had just acquired a great fortune. They were frugal in nearly everything they did, agreeing that most of the funds in Baring’s would be used to improve Avonleigh and create jobs for the local population. Only when the mills and factories were profitable would Graham feel comfortable spending money on their own comforts (although the two agreed their home did need a bit more furniture). Bryant Park would be leased, but now they had the funds to make proper repairs and hire adequate staff for its upkeep.
The idea that Lord Avonleigh had once been dubbed the Miserable Marquess was noted by the members of the ton who witnessed the man’s nearly constant grin as the newlywed couple strolled down Regent Street.
Katherine had immediately cabled her father, thanking him. He had replied, saying she ought to also thank Mr. Rockefeller for purchasing his steel factory for an extremely favorable price. He’d ended the brief cable with: I knew he was a good man the moment I met him.
Graham read the cable over her shoulder and snorted. “He punched me in the stomach the moment I met him.”
“He did?”
“Rather hard, actually.”
Katherine grinned. “If you could take one of his punches, you no doubt impressed him.”
On the evening before departing London, they were to attend a small gathering to listen to London’s most famous soprano, Thérèse Tietjens, in Lady Gartner’s Mayfair town house. Katherine had been looking forward to the evening, for it was the first social function they’d attended as a couple and she’d never had the chance to hear the well-known singer.
No doubt rumors about their forced marriage had swirled about the ton in the weeks since their marriage, and Katherine was glad to be able to show everyone how happy they were to find themselves shackled together for life. Those were Graham’s words, and they made her smile every time she thought of them.
“How am I to keep my hands off you when you look so lovely?” Graham asked once she had her formal gown on. She had yet to find a lady’s maid and so Graham had been acting as such. To a certain extent. Oftentimes, with good intentions, he’d start to help her don her corset, only to have it off again before it was fully laced.
“I really must find myself a proper maid, else we’ll be late to every engagement,” she’d said, laughing after he’d thrown her down onto the bed and kissed her senseless.
“I don’t think we should ever get you a maid. And I thought I was getting rather adept at the job.”
“More at the taking off of things than the putting on, sir,” Katherine said. Sometime later, Graham successfully demonstrated his ability to dress his wife. And now she stood before him, ready to depart and feeling a bit nervous about the evening to come.
“You may save up all your desire and spend it this evening when we return,” she said saucily. “Now. How do I look? Matronly?”
“Like a siren.”
She gave him an exasperated look.
“Fine, you look very boring and very matronly.”
She frowned. “I do?”
“Of course you don’t, love. Before we go, I have a gift for you.”
“Oh?” Despite their frugality, Katherine couldn’t help but enjoy receiving gifts.
Graham pulled out a thin case and presented it to her. She opened the case and gasped. “I thought I’d lost this.”
“I found it on the floor in Rufford Abbey’s library.”
Inside was her mermaid pendant, looking quite lovely against the velvet case. A little too lovely.
She picked it up and felt the hefty weight, realizing quickly that this was not made of cheap metal and paste, but gold and real gems. But every other detail was precisely like the original, which Graham held dangling from his hand. “Just in case you also wanted the real thing. For sentimental reasons.”
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him. “Oh Graham, it’s perfect. The most perfect gift.”
Graham grinned. “Let’s put it on,” he said, and gently placed it around her neck. He looked down at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Is anyone looking?”
Katherine smiled, remembering that day on Brighton Beach when he’d put on the original necklace. “Why?”
“Because if I don’t kiss you, I fear I shall perish.”
Katherine laughed and kissed her husband until they both were tempted to forgo the evening’s activities.
“Come now,” Graham said, drawing back reluctantly. “We’re already a bit late. You know we cannot enter the parlor if the performance has already begun.”
As it happened, they arrived in plenty of time to see the famous soprano, for she wasn’t scheduled to perform until midnight.
“Do you think we’ll see anyone we know?” Katherine asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.
“No doubt we shall,” Graham said, then gave her a curious look.
“Are you nervous?”
“A bit. After all, the last time we were at a social gathering, it was a bit scandalous.”
“Yes, but we are married now. London society will forgive our indiscretion.”
Graham’s prediction was correct. If anyone remembered or even thought about how they’d been married, no one gave any indication. They greeted the new couple, if not warmly, then politely. Katherine was secretly amused when Graham put on his “aristocratic air” as she called it. “My goodness, no wonder e
veryone thinks you’re so fearsome,” she said after one exchange with a Lord Whippet.
“You’re the only one who hasn’t thought so,” he said, slightly miffed.
She laughed, and he looked down at her and smiled. They were oblivious to the near collective sigh of all the unmarried girls and unhappily married matrons who could not miss the look of total adoration Lord Avonleigh was giving his new bride.
Katherine recognized a few faces from the house parties she’d attended and was beginning to relax when she saw Marjorie standing with Charles Norris. Katherine looked about for Lady Summerfield, but didn’t see the older woman.
“Let’s go to the refreshment table,” Katherine said, even though her glass of punch was still half full. But it was too late. Marjorie had spotted her and was making her way toward them, with Mr. Norris following behind almost reluctantly.
“Hello, Lady Marjorie,” Katherine said pleasantly.
Marjorie looked terribly distressed and Katherine tried not to be affected. She’d counted her a friend, and even though she understood why Marjorie had told Graham about her words, she still felt betrayed by her actions.
“Please, may we talk privately?”
“Go on, Katherine,” Graham said. “I’ll keep Norris occupied while you two talk.”
Katherine gave Graham a small smile of gratitude, then followed Marjorie from the crowded room and into a small hall. “I cannot say how sorry I am for what I did,” Marjorie said. “I am so glad to see that you are happy together. It was my mother. I mentioned, in passing, what you’d said to me after you’d been caught with Lord Avonleigh. And only because she’d seemed so enthusiastic about a match between the two of you. I could not have predicted her reaction. She was incensed and demanded that I tell Lord Avonleigh what you’d said to me.”
