by Amelia Grey
An odd sound caught his attention. He couldn’t place what it was but it sounded like it was in the room with him. He listened intently for a moment, but all was quiet again. He reached over and tenderly kissed the back of Angelina’s shoulder. He breathed in the warmth of her scent. It was heavenly woman. They had been up late and he didn’t want to disturb her, but his body was telling him to stop the nonsense of letting her sleep and pull her into his arms and awaken her with kisses.
The sound came again. Was that the grrr of a dog? And was that a gnawing sound? He slowly rose in the bed and sat up. He glanced around the room. Clothing, shoes, and stockings were strewn about the floor, but he saw nothing amiss. He was about to lie back down when he heard a dog growling. This time he was sure. There was a dog in the room, but which one and how the hell had it gotten into his bedchamber?
Harrison spotted his trousers on the floor beside the bed. He reached down, picked them up, and slid his legs into them, pulling them up his hips as he eased off the bed. Angelina stirred but didn’t wake.
With quiet steps he walked around the foot of the bed to the other side and saw Mr. Pete with his front paws forward, his hind end up in the air, chewing the devil out of the toe of one of Harrison’s boots.
With no thought for his slumbering wife and in a voice loud enough to unsettle the dead, he exclaimed, “You little cur!”
Harrison dove to grab the boot out of the beagle’s mouth but the little dog was quicker and dragged it just out of his reach as Harrison hit the floor on his knees and skidded. He stretched to grab it but Mr. Pete snarled and pulled it back just far enough that Harrison missed it again.
“Harrison, what’s wrong?” Angelina said. “What’s going on?”
“Your little mongrel is using my boot for a bone,” he said, reaching for the third time and grabbing hold of the heel. Mr. Pete growled, shook his head, and sank his teeth farther into the leather. Harrison pulled and the beagle gave a valiant effort to hold on but his small jaws were no match for Harrison’s strength. Finally he had to let go of his new boot bone.
Harrison rose to his feet. Mr. Pete barked up at him several times, as if to say, Give it back and let’s play again.
Harrison examined the boot. The once shiny toe was scratched, skinned, and chewed. The little devil’s teeth had made holes and frayed the softer leather at the top. The boot was beyond repair.
“I’m so sorry, Harrison. Is it ruined?”
He glanced over at his startled wife. She was wiping her sleepy eyes with one hand and pulling the sheet under her chin with the other.
“No,” he lied. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t know how Mr. Pete got above stairs and into our bedchamber. Maybe one of the servants accidentally let him out of the storage room while we were having dinner last night. I’ll take him back down immediately.”
Harrison dropped the boot to the floor. He heard Mr. Pete grab it and drag it away. “You’ll do no such thing.” He walked over, put his hands on each side of her face, and smiled down at her. “It’s just a pair of old boots. And good morning, Lady Thornwick. You are looking especially gorgeous this morning. Maybe that’s because we are finally home.”
She looked up at him with a questioning expression. “You’re not angry at Mr. Pete?”
Well?
“Why should I be?” he said with a smile. “I have others.”
“I know men can become very fond of their boots. I hope it wasn’t your favorite pair.”
Harrison searched her beautiful blue eyes and remembered something Bray had said to him months ago: I like Louisa’s sisters, but even if I didn’t, I’d put up with them because Louisa is worth it.
That’s the way he felt about Angelina’s dogs. He liked her dogs, but even if he didn’t, he’d tolerate them for her.
“I’m certain. From this day forward there will be a new tradition at Thornwick. Dogs will be allowed to run free in the house.”
She smiled and laughed and wound her arms around his waist as she hugged him to her, placing her cheek against his bare abdomen. “Even I have limitations about how much freedom the dogs have in the house, and the first rule of order is that they don’t belong above stairs. We must have our space and they must have theirs.”
Harrison liked that idea. He cupped her head to him. “In that case, I’ll leave all the rules to you.”
“Now that is very generous of you, my lord,” she said with a laugh. “No reason for you to start making or following rules this late in life, is there?”
He reached down and kissed the top of her head. “You are the only rule I want.”
She looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes. “Thank you for understanding. Mr. Pete is still young and has not been properly trained yet. I love you even more than I thought possible for being understanding about my pets and my father. Thank you for paying off the rest of his debts.”
He grinned and crawled into the bed with her, pulling her into his arms as he joined her.
“I should have paid them all, but for your craftiness. You will keep your promise to never sell another fan or painting, right?”
“I will, my lord. Besides, I’ll be too busy helping you restore the Thornwick paintings that were damaged in the fire. And hopefully, my father will be too busy helping you replenish the library to even think about gambling for a long time to come.”
“A very long time.” Harrison kissed her lips and looked lovingly into her eyes. “You are the perfect mistress for Thornwick, Angelina. My father and my brothers would be pleased.”
Her eyes watered. “I don’t think you could have said anything that would have pleased me more.”
“It’s true. You will help me restore my family’s legacy with strong sons and beautiful daughters.”
“Should we start working on trying to get those sons right now, my love?” she asked as she rolled him onto his back and straddled his hips.
“Please do, my love,” Harrison said and thrilled to his wife’s touch.
Author’s Notes
Dear Readers,
I hope you have enjoyed the second book of my Heirs’ Club of Scoundrels trilogy. With Harrison and Angelina’s story, it was fun to explore the feelings and emotions a young lady might experience as she grows up and discovers that the heartthrob of her youth is not the man she loves enough to want to spend the rest of her life with.
During the Regency, the possibility of being thrown in debtors’ prison for not paying what you owed was very real. There were several debtors’ prisons located throughout England. Though no prison was pleasant, some debtors’ prisons allowed the inmates the freedom to receive visitors and to continue conducting their businesses.
Dueling has been around almost since the beginning of time. Queen Elizabeth I officially made it a crime in 1577 but that didn’t stop the practice and hardly even slowed the countless duels fought each year, which numbered in the thousands throughout Europe. There are many recorded cases where gentlemen were prosecuted for attempted murder or for the murder of an opponent while dueling. Generally, though, authorities and the courts were sympathetic to the principles and code of honor.
By 1840 there was a dramatic decline in dueling. Some historians think this was in large part because of a growing middle class, anti-dueling campaigns, and intellectual trends against violence.
The addition of the Prince Regent weighing in on Lord Thornwick’s dueling and the threat of prison was written entirely for entertainment and has no historical basis in fact.
If you missed the first book in the Heirs’ Club trilogy, The Duke in My Bed, you can get a copy at your favorite bookstore or online e-retailer. Watch for Wedding Night with the Earl in March 2016.
I love to hear from readers. Please visit my website at ameliagrey.com, like me at facebook.com/AmeliaGrey Books, or email me at [email protected].
Happy reading!
Amelia
Read on for an excerpt from Amelia Grey’s next book
&nbs
p; WEDDING NIGHT WITH THE EARL
—coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks!
“Would you like to try?” the earl asked.
To dance?
Katherine hedged. “That’s two questions.”
“You asked two,” he reminded her.
She had. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know that London’s ton had nicknamed him “the beast.” Swallowing her concern, she said, “All right, no. Wait. I mean yes, of course, yes, I’d like to try, but isn’t it very obvious why I can’t?”
There was a glow of something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in them before. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like anticipation or perhaps hope.
The earl stepped closer and bent his head toward hers. “I believe I can teach you?”
“What?”
Was he teasing her? Mocking her? Maybe he was a beast. Didn’t he know how vulnerable she was when it came to her injury? But how could he? He didn’t know that since she’d fallen down the stairs when she was nine years old and reinjured her leg, that she hadn’t taken a step without her cane. She couldn’t.
A cold hard chill shook Katherine’s body. She gathered her shawl about her neck once more. “No.” She leaned heavily on her cane and backed away from him. “You have no right to even suggest you could do that.”
“Maybe not a quadrille, but I could teach you to waltz. A slow one. I would hold you firmly, but properly, and gently guide you.”
“I said no. Now, excuse me. It’s late, I should go inside.”
Lord Greyhawke took hold of her upper arm when she started past him and stopped her from leaving. His hand was firm, warm, possessive. “I know I can teach you. Right here, right now on your front lawn, if you will let me.”
She moved as if to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he held her tighter, letting her know he was in control and she would go nowhere until he was ready to release her.
The very thought of his proposal caused her stomach to twist into a knot. “No,” she whispered above the roaring in her ears.
The earl held out his other hand to her. “Trust me,” he said in a persuasive tone.
Trust him?
“Give me the cane,” he said.
His confidence, his audacity amazed her. Moonlight shadowed his handsome face; still her eyes searched his for a reason for his preposterous claim that he could teach her to dance.
“Why are you doing this?” She struggled to free herself again. “Let go of me. You’re being cruel for no reason. You know I can’t dance.”
“I don’t know that, and if you haven’t tried, neither do you. You have a choice to make, Miss Wright. You can either give me the cane or I’m going to kiss you.”
Katherine stopped struggling and stared at him in disbelief. Her senses whirled at the very idea of a kiss from the man. “We are practically strangers.”
“You don’t seem like a stranger to me.” He looked down at his hand on her arm. “You don’t feel unfamiliar beneath my grasp.”
She wasn’t sure what he was doing to her, but she agreed. He didn’t appear a stranger to her either. “You wouldn’t kiss me.”
Lord Greyhawke leaned his face close to hers. “Of course I would. I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
He really wanted to kiss her?
Katherine’s hand tightened on the handle of the cane. Her breath seemed to collect and pool in her throat.
A knowing smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “You’d rather I kiss you than give up your walking stick?”
Would she? Tension like she’d never experienced swirled and sparked between them.
Silently she digested what he said as a tingling awareness gripped her. She hoped the turmoil she was feeling inside didn’t show in her eyes or on her face. From the moment she looked up and saw him standing in front of her, there had been an inexplicable, unrelenting attraction between them.
Finally, she drew in a long uneven breath and said, “I’m not afraid of a kiss, my lord.”
Continuing to watch her carefully, he said, “So you’ve been kissed before?”
Her chin lifted defiantly. “No, but the thought of it doesn’t trouble me. I’ve always expected to be kissed one day.” But she had never expected to dance.
“Afraid to dance but not frightened to be kissed by the man they call ‘the beast’? That makes you very intriguing, Miss Wright.”
He moved his face so close to hers Katherine thought for sure he was going to kiss her. Shivers of dread and anticipation coursed through her and mingled together so rapidly that she didn’t know which emotion would be the victor.
Instead of placing his lips on hers, he hesitated and said, “How can I refuse such a tempting invitation?”
Tightness bound her chest. For a fleeting second she felt close to swooning for the first time in her life. Her knees were quivering but not from the cold or from standing for so long. Was he or wasn’t he going to kiss her?
And did she want him to or didn’t she? All she really knew was that she’d never met a gentleman who stirred her senses the way Lord Greyhawke had.
She took in a shaky breath and managed to say, “That wasn’t an invitation.”
His lips hovered so close to hers it was if she could already feel them. Anticipation had won.
“It was. You are seducing me and I accept that. What I haven’t decided is whether or not you know you’re doing it.”
Lord Greyhawke threw his hat toward the front gate and with one fluid motion circled her waist with his hands, lifted her off the ground, and trapped her against his chest as his lips came down on hers with firm, mounting pressure that startled her at first. It was a powerful sensation. Katherine swallowed a small shivery gasp and closed her eyes.
His lips molded impatiently, eagerly, to hers. It was as if he were starving and only the taste of her lips would satisfy him. Caught up in the shelter of his embrace, she felt safer and more whole than she’d ever felt in her life. The warmth of his body and the strength in his arms seemed to sink into her soul and nourish her. Spirals of wonderful sensations curled tightly in her abdomen and then seemed to shoot through her body as she surrendered to the first stirrings of passion that had awakened within her.
Time seemed to be suspended. Katherine relaxed and concentrated on the pleasure soaring within her.
The thrills that swept through her were shattering all she had ever imagined a kiss would be. Thoughts, dreams, and wishes were no comparison to a real kiss delivered passionately by a real man. Their kiss gathered intensity once again. Katherine felt as if she had been waiting for this experience all her life. She welcomed it with open arms and open mind to explore it all.
His lips left hers and he kissed her cheek, under her eye, and down to the corner of her mouth before returning and melting his lips to the contours of hers once more. As they kissed, the movement of his lips upon hers became more languorous and less frantic. It was as if he treasured what he was doing and how he was feeling.
Lord Greyhawke lifted his head a little and looked down into her eyes. “What do you think of your first kiss?”
She moistened her lips and inhaled a deep shaky breath. “That I expected it to be softer and shorter. Much like when Papa used to kiss my forehead or my cheek.”
He chuckled and then in a reassuring tone said, “Miss Wright, a gentleman’s kiss to a lady is not supposed to be chaste like a father’s buss to his daughter.”
“I think I understand that now, and I’m wondering why I’ve never allowed any of the gentlemen who’ve wanted to kiss me to do so. Surely I’ve been missing many opportunities to experience these wonderful feelings it causes deep inside me.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “That’s not the answer I expected from you, but do not think that every man will produce the same response in you that my kiss did.”
She eyed him curiously and watched shadows of moonlight play across his handsome features. “Why not?” she asked.
“I’ll just say that every m
an kisses differently.”
“How do you know this?”
His lips twitched with a little humor and so did hers. Katherine could tell he was considering how to answer her question so she playfully goaded him by adding, “Have you kissed many men?”
The earl laughed. It was an easy, natural sound that was pleasing to her ears.
“I have never kissed a man. Since no two ladies kiss alike, I will assume it’s safe to think no two men do either.”
“And have you kissed many ladies?”
His gaze feathered down her face and back up to her eyes. She could tell he appreciated her curiosity.
“Enough,” he answered.
Katherine stared into his golden brown eyes and said, “I like the way you kiss.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Miss Wright. I liked your kisses, too. Immensely. Perhaps we should do it again.”
“That would be lovely, but dangerous. We are standing out in the open on my front lawn.”
“It won’t be the first time I’ve done something dangerous. And for reasons I don’t begin to understand and have no desire to contemplate, I am of a mind to tempt fate one more time tonight and kiss you again.”
His words tempted her and eased her fears. “I think I would like that, too, my lord.”
The earl bent his head to hers and sought her mouth once again. Katherine knew what to expect and began to kiss him back. She dropped her cane and wound both her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, urging him to kiss her harder. And he did. She skimmed her hands along the width of his shoulders and down the breadth of his back.
He trembled beneath her searching hands. His arms tightened around her possessively, pressing her breasts against the firmness of his powerful chest as if he were trying to bind her to him.
“Open your mouth,” he whispered against her lips. “Let me inside to taste you.”
