To Take This Lord (The Brides of Bath Book 4)

by Cheryl Bolen

  "I understand."

  * * *

  That night after dinner the four of them played whist. This time it was females against males. Unfortunately, that put Sally next to George at the table. He had hardly been able to utter a word to her since reading her unwelcome letter. At the same time, he had been unable to expunge her from his every thought. Most of all, he kept thinking of that blissful night she had invited him into her chamber. How could she have given herself to him so completely, then turn around and abandon him? Every kiss, every caress they had shared validated a most perfect union. She couldn't be that good of an actress! Yet, he had to accept that she did not really love him. Except as a brother. Damn it!

  Was it his recent deformity? He refused to believe he could have been that incompetent in the ways of loving a woman. Besides, she was too inexperienced to feign the climax that had drenched her, sending her into uncontrollable tremblings. No, he had been capable of fulfilling her in that way. Then, what was it?

  "Your play, dearest," she murmured to him.

  He glanced at her sweet face and noted she had not curled her hair. Was that to please him? He had told her he preferred her hair uncurled. His eye trailed along her golden neck to the rising and falling of her smooth little breasts. How he longed to remove that gown! He shuddered, then tossed out a card.

  It was difficult to keep his mind on his play when her presence continued to evoke her sensuality. Now he had some idea of the torture Blanks had put himself through these two years past.

  Only today there was something different about Blanks. A self-satisfied composure. George glanced at his sister. She possessed that same telling smile.

  And suddenly George realized that when Blanks had become jealous of Willingham yesterday and fled the library, he must have confronted Glee. And nature had obviously taken its course. Had they returned to the folly where Blanks had first compromised her? A smile hitched on George's face. One victory won. His own, unfortunately, would forevermore evade him.

  "Dearest," Sally said to him, placing her hand on his sleeve. "Who were those men who came to you today?"

  "No one you need be concerned with." He disliked excluding his wife from this business, but it was for her own good. Anything that related to the day of the fire still had the power to send her into hysterics.

  After he and Blanks won the first game, he pleaded fatigue, though it was actually his wife's debilitating presence that made him wish to leave.

  * * *

  Sally mounted the stairs with her husband.

  "You aren't still afraid I'll fall down?" he asked with a chuckle.

  "No, you've quite satisfied me that you are recovered. I'm exceedingly happy, but I daresay I do miss your company."

  He stopped and peered into her eyes. It was impossible for her to forget that other night when he had looked at her with such longing, so much that she had ventured to invite him to partake of her willing body. She could not allow herself to dwell on that night. It had meant nothing to him. He only needed a man's release, not a wife's love. "I rather thought you would prefer Glee's company to mine," he said.

  She climbed to the next step. "I adored being with you day and night. I'm rather a controlling creature, and I daresay I was in my element ordering you about." And being with you every moment and caring for you and loving you with all my heart. None of those words would her pride allow her to say.

  As they drew near her door, she stiffened and grabbed the knob. She would not allow herself to be used merely for his physical gratification. She flashed a smile and said, "Good night, George. I hope you sleep well."

  He did not so much as even try to brush dry lips across her forehead. He spun on his heel and went to his chambers.

  Once she was in bed, she relived the hopeful conversation she had with Glee. Then she remembered Glee telling her about the signature on the letter. Sally Spenser. An old habit that was hard to break. She no more wished to be Sally Spenser than she wished to be residing with her odious elder brother. Nevertheless, she had referred to herself by that name.

  The wrong name.

  Could George have done likewise when he called her Diana? Could Glee be right?

  Chapter 31

  Given the fact that he had been able to sleep like a babe in the post chaise coming here, Lloyd had offered to take duty the first night. He was careful to dress all in black and even blackened his face so as not to be seen after dark when wandering about his lordship's estate. Once darkness fell, he left the big manor house, came to a thicket near the burned-out stable, and sat on a tuft of grass to wait. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but he would know when the time came.

  His first observation came about six o'clock when the burly groom left the stable and went up to the big house for dinner. Lord Sedgewick had told him this Ebenezer took his meals at the big house. About half an hour later, the groom strolled leisurely back to the stable.

  The next several hours were duller than a month-old razor. Waiting was the worst part of this blasted job. But the pay was fair, and Lloyd received a heap of pride in protecting the good and punishing the bad.

  He glanced from the stable to the big house, from the big house to the stable. He watched the candles in the big house being snuffed one by one until eleven o'clock, when the house was in complete darkness. He was getting sleepy himself, but he wasn't one to take a day's pay for not doing his job. So he stayed awake. Hard as it was.

  Not long after the manor house went dark, he heard the soft pounding of horse's hooves. And they weren't going to the big house, either. He sat up straight, his ears perked. The horse kept coming right toward the stable without a falter in its stride. It wasn't until the horse stopped right beside the stable that Lloyd got a good glimpse of the rider. It was a lady! He watched as she dismounted and tethered her mount. Though he was some distance away, he could tell she was pretty. But something didn't seem right. She dressed like a real lady. Quality. Now, what would a lady of the ton be doing coming to visit with a groom?

  It seemed to him a lady met a man at this time of night for one reason and one reason only. And Lloyd distinctly disliked the idea of spying on a pair of lovers. That weren't what he was being paid to do.

  Sure enough, the Ebenezer fellow came out of the stable's shadows and kissed the lady. By the looks of the kiss, it wasn't the first time the two of them had met like this. He watched as the groom took her hand and led her into the ruined building.

  Lloyd hated to pry into their doings, but he was receiving good compensation for doing so. He got up and quietly made his way to the dark side of the stable and bent down low. It was a very long shot, but there was the possibility the lady was the one what paid the groom, so Lloyd told himself he had to go listening to the two of them. Better that than watching!

  It was the lady he heard first. "I see you've got fresh hay for us to lie on, Ebenezer. Have you missed me this past fortnight?"

  "Aye, Miss Johnson," the groom said hungrily. "But I needs to get something straight between us."

  The lady spoke real throatily like. "Ebenezer, come to me."

  "Not until ye promise me I'm not gonna have to do more killin'."

  "I've been thinking about it, and I've decided Lord Sedgewick may have suffered enough for what he did to me. There's just one other tiny thing . . . "

  "I don't want to do nothin' else. I want to come back to Bath, to Coriander House. I want to feel you lying beside me every night."

  "You silly man. You know I'm always on top. Now come here."

  Sweet heavens! Lloyd had just heard enough to convict the bloke! And the lady, too! Let's see, what were the facts he'd have to know? The lady was Miss Johnson of Coriander House in Bath. He could remember that without writing it down.

  What he heard next was a bunch of grunting and moaning and some of the filthiest talk he'd ever heard in his one and thirty years! Thank the Good Lord, he wouldn't have to repeat that part to his lordship.

  Lloyd had a strong desire t
o run up to the big house this very moment and wake his lordship, but he felt he hadn't done much to earn his money. The thing to do was to follow the lady in order to get even more evidence against her.

  But in order to follow her, he would need a mount. He got up quietly and went back to the manor house, where he woke up his mate.

  "What goin' on?" Gordon said as he rubbed his eyes.

  "I've got the lady."

  "What lady?"

  "The one that's tryin' to destroy Lord Sedgewick. I'll need to follow her when she leaves the groom. I think she's payin' the lad with her body. What I need you to do is to go find me a mount and wait for me at the lane—in the darkest place ye can find. Ye'll need to be quiet. We can't let her see you."

  Lloyd hurried back to the stable, and the two of them were still going at it. He'd wager a quarter's salary he hadn't missed a thing except more dirty talk. He never heard of no lady talking like that one. She spoke more like a whore down at the docks than a lady living in a fine house with a name!

  But he had to hand it to that Ebenezer. He could go many a round with the demanding wench. Lloyd wished he had half the stamina of the strapping groom.

  After a couple of hours of that, the lady said, "You must help me dress now, Ebenezer. I have to leave before the light comes."

  "Ye stayin' at the inn in the village?"

  "Yes, but this will be my last time here. The innkeeper keeps asking what keeps bringing me to Tottenford. And Tottenford, my dear lover, is not exactly a metropolis."

  "Don't know what no metropolis is."

  "You're so blessedly simple. Wait a few days, then you'll be free to leave here and return to me." There was a pause, and Lloyd heard the jingling of coins. "Here's a few shilling for your transportation."

  Minutes later, they left the stable and the groom helped her mount. Lloyd waited until she was almost out of his vision before he began to follow. He saw that when she got to the lane, she turned right. The road to Tottenford.

  Gordon waited with the horse in a pocket of hedges. Lloyd took the reins. "Go back to bed. I can handle it."

  * * *

  Over breakfast the next morning, Adams told George that two men desired to speak to him in the library.

  Could the runners have the information so quickly? George threw down his fork, got up and hurried to the library. "Gentlemen?"

  Smug smiles met him. "We've got the information ye need," one of them said.

  For some strange reason, his pulse quickened. "Who?"

  The runner who kept the notebook replied. "A Miss Johnson from Corriander House in Bath."

  George's heart pounded in his chest. Because he had the effrontery to marry a woman of lesser means and lesser beauty, and because he gave the woman a set-down at the Pump Room, Betsy Johnson wished to destroy him. "The slut! The bitch!"

  "Aye, she's all of that and more," the runner said. "It's my belief she's been payin' the groom with her body."

  George gave out a bitter laugh. "He could have such at any brothel."

  "Ain't you right about that! I never heard no woman speakin' in such dirty language, much less a lady born."

  "She's no lady," George said. He met the gaze of the man who had just spoken. "Forgive me for making you have to listen to the woman's foul mouth."

  "It's all in a day's—or night's—work. I followed her to the Cock 'n Stock Inn, where the innkeeper confirmed that the lady's stayed there on three different occasions. Though she used the name Jones, the innkeeper can identify her."

  "And Lloyd heard enough conversation between the lady from Bath and the groom to convict them," the other runner added.

  "Gentlemen," George said, "I believe a trip to Bath is in order. First, of course, we shall arrest Ebenezer."

  * * *

  It was a couple of hours later before George returned to the house. Sally was waiting.

  "George Pembroke, I declare, I am exceedingly mad at you! You know the doctor will not allow you out of doors. And why will you not tell me who those two men are?"

  A sheepish grin on his face, he came to give her cheek a kiss. "I shall tell you everything when I return from Bath."

  She seized his arm. "You are not going to Bath!"

  "But, my dear, the Bow Street runners have already arrested Ebenezer and now plan to arrest Betsy Johnson for serious crimes committed against Lord Sedgewick, and I really must be there."

  "Betsy Johnson!" she shrieked. "Bow Street runners? Oh, George, you're so very clever. And now everything falls into place so well." Until this moment, Sally had never thought she could hate Miss Johnson. After all, Sally was the victor, and she planned to be a gracious one. But anyone who could devise a scheme so sinister deserved Sally's hatred—along with a beheading. "You're not going to Bath without me! I don't trust you to take proper care of yourself."

  George gave her an odd, pained look. "You're at liberty to do whatever you'd like, my lady."

  "Then I shall gather a few things," she said as she began to run up the stairs. "Thank goodness I no longer have to worry about the children's safety. How long will we be gone, dearest?"

  "We'll be back tomorrow."

  "Then I shall leave the children in Glee's care."

  As Hettie helped her pack, Sally's mind was a blur. The horrid past that the wicked Betsy Johnson had orchestrated mixed with the future and what Sally hoped to salvage of her marriage. Could she dare hope Glee was right?

  There was only one way to find out. She would have to loosen the grip on her pride.

  Chapter 32

  The sun sliced into the carriage from the tiny side window, bathing George's poor, healing face in light while Sally, sitting opposite him, was in shadow. "Please come sit by me," she said. "You're in the sun."

  He shot her a cold glance, then moved to sit next to her.

  They rode on for some time without talking. Sally was much too aware of how close his knee was to her own. And the nearness of him flooded her with memories of that special nearness they had shared. That nearness she hoped to repeat.

  In order to satisfy herself of his possible affection, she must throw her pride into the wind. Her pulse raced. She took in a deep breath, then began: "You know, George, I was greatly offended when you said you loved me, but then called me Diana."

  He spun to her, his eyes wide, his brows low. "I couldn't have called you Diana! I haven't even thought of her in months. You must be mistaken."

  "Does a soaring dove not know when it is felled by a musketball?"

  A deep softness came over his still-handsome face as he peered into her eyes, taking her hands in his and lifting them to his mouth. "I can't even picture Diana. It's you and only you who relentlessly bombards my every waking thought and ignites my every desire."

  So it had indeed just been an old habit! It really was she whom he loved! She now regretted the recent nights when her pride had kept her beloved from her bed. Her hand cupped his face. "And it's you and only you whom I've always loved."

  His green eyes danced. "Always?"

  She nodded shyly.

  "Then may I suggest, Lady Sedgewick, that you sit upon my lap?" He cinched his hands about her waist and began to haul her to his lap.

  She was seated atop him in a flash, circling her arms around his neck, lowering her lips to his for an unbelievably tender kiss. From her mouth he moved effortlessly to her slender neck, then he covered her bosom with gentle kisses. She sighed and arched, impatient for him to release her breasts for the more careful consideration of his mouth.

  As she felt the cool air rushing over her unbound breasts, she fleetingly thought of the coachman, of the impropriety of her near nakedness, but abandoned her inhibitions as George suckled on her hardened nipples, his gentle hand nudging upward from beneath her skirts, quelling any hint of rebellion as a deep need began to throb within.

  "You're not wearing drawers!" he exclaimed.

  She dropped a breathless kiss onto the top of his head. "Of course not! I had no desire to restr
ict you."

  "Then you knew . . . ?"

  She shook her head, sending her hair flying from its swept-up coif. "I didn't know. I hoped," she murmured, lowering her face to his.

  "You little vixen!" he growled as he lifted her from the waist. "I wish for you to straddle me as if you were riding a horse bareback."

  Smiling down into her husband's happy face, she fanned out her skirts, nudged one knee on either side of him, and faced him, forehead to forehead as she nibbled his lower lip into her mouth, her hips easing into a flowing rhythm against him. He crushed her to him and groaned his satisfaction.

  A throbbing heat gushed at her core, expanding to fill every cell of her body with searing need.

  When he released himself from his breeches, she trembled and stilled against him, her breathing erratic. His hands slipped beneath her skirts as he probed her opening, fitting himself to her before the first surge. Surge after surge spiked through her, and just as release was about to settle over her, another surge convulsed her until the surges were overlapping and she heard herself cry out over and over again.

  When the surges ceased to slam against her, when she had no more air in her lungs with which to cry out, when she collapsed against his powerful chest, drenched as if she had been swimming, he drew her tightly against him and whispered throatily, breathlessly into her moist ear. "By all that's holy, my love, my Sally, I love you with all my heart."

  He held her as if she were his most precious possession, and it dawned on her that her husband did indeed love her with the same debilitating intensity she felt for him. She lifted her face to his. "I'm ever so happy you decided to make me your wife and not your governess. What a wanton governess I would have been!"

  He laughed as he drew her closer, and she pillowed her face into his chest for the long, joyous ride back to Bath.

  THE END

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  I hope you enjoyed To Take This Lord. If you did, would you please consider posting a review by the book's listing at Amazon.com or another a site where you might have read it? If you do, please send me an email at Cheryl@cherylbolen.com and I will enter your name in one of my quarterly drawings for a $50 gift certificate to iTunes or another eBook retailer of your choice. Each time you review one of my books, let me know, and you will get another entry for each review. There will be a drawing each quarter.