Night Shadow

by Catherine Coulter

  She slid away from him as she quieted, falling asleep even as he lifted his head to smile at her. In triumph.

  She was truly asleep, he saw. He supposed he should be quite satisfied with himself. He’d exhausted her with pleasure. He gently eased off the bed and rose. He looked down at her. Her hair was tangled about her head, her body was sprawled for his pleasure, and his pleasure in looking at her was great. Even her narrow feet were beautiful. He was a lucky man, a very lucky man. She was passionate and loving.

  He couldn’t imagine now ever entertaining the belief that the wise man should wait until he was forty to enjoy a woman who was his wife.

  Knight stripped off his clothes, tossing them to the floor. He was normally ordered and neat, but he wanted more than anything to hold her against him, to feel her warm breath against his shoulder, her smooth palm on his chest. He eased in beside her and pulled the blankets over them.

  She murmured something he couldn’t understand.

  He kissed her temple and stretched out on his back, tightening his hold on his wife. Life was just fine. There was nothing he would change, not a single thing.

  Knight woke slowly, aware that something wasn’t quite right. But even before he opened his eyes he thought of Lily and smiled. No, it wasn’t—

  He opened his eyes to see not Lily but Laura Beth. She was curled up between them and her elbow was in his throat.

  He started, then held himself still. His wits were scattered to the four winds. At that moment, Lily opened her eyes. She stared at Laura Beth, then at her husband.

  She grinned and whispered, “Oh, dear. Where did this little baggage come from?”

  “I should have locked our door,” Knight said.

  “At least she’s between us. Sometimes she sleeps right on top of me and I wake up barely breathing.”

  “Hello, Papa. Hello, Mama.”

  A small elbow barely missed jabbing into his Adam’s apple. Knight felt a very wet kiss on his cheek.

  “Laura Beth,” Lily said, then started to laugh. She turned onto her back and laughed harder.

  “Mama, you don’t have any clothes on. What happened to your nightgown?”

  “Oh, dear,” Lily said again, straightening up at once.

  “Papa doesn’t have a nightgown either, I don’t think.”

  Knight brought his arms up to pillow his head. He gave Lily a lazy look. “I want to see how you handle this four-year-old problem.”

  Lily had only a minute to look at her husband’s bare chest. He was perfectly lovely, as lovely as she’d remembered from that afternoon when he’d stripped to his trousers to bathe Laura Beth. He wanted her to get up and parade about without her clothes on. She fretted with her lower lip, then said, “Laura Beth, I want you to hand me that towel. See, over there, near the screen.”

  “It’s cold,” Laura Beth wailed and snuggled down against Knight’s chest.

  Knight chuckled and brought an arm down to tousle her hair. “Listen, snippet—”

  Laura Beth raised her head. “Why are you in here with Mama? This isn’t her room. I was scared because I couldn’t find her.”

  “Your mama married me yesterday, Laura Beth. That means that she will always be with me, everywhere, all the time, without exception, particularly when she’s sleeping.”

  “Oh.” Laura Beth’s thumb settled into her mouth.

  Lily tried again. “Get me that towel.”

  Knight decided to take pity on her. He leaned over and pulled on the bell cord beside the bed.

  “Now, just be still and someone will come soon enough. It isn’t that early.”

  It wasn’t just someone who came, it was Stromsoe, and he turned red as a sailor’s sunset. He’d arrived only two days before and had kept his distance from everyone except Knight.

  “We need your assistance, Stromsoe,” Knight said easily, enjoying his valet’s discomfort. The prig. “Hand me my dressing gown, then take yourself off to the kitchen and tell Mimms we want our breakfast served up here in, say, thirty minutes. A very noble breakfast, if you please.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Stromsoe carefully averted his eyes when he came to the bed, Knight’s dressing gown in his hands. He understood his lordship’s problem, naturally, a little girl in his bed, of all things. This would never have happened before she—He shot the new viscountess a look from the corner of his eye. He saw her then, not as an intruder, but as a woman, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. God, she was bloody fine, she was. He quickly stepped away and fled the bedchamber.

  “I do believe old Stromsoe was a bit embarrassed.”

  “So am I. I will forgive him all his lapses of the past. You’re a dreadful tease.”

  Knight eased into his dressing gown. Laura Beth wanted to help him and he finally sighed. “Lily, please take this little brat and hold her down. Thank you.”

  He heard Laura Beth giggle as he rose from the bed, quickly pulling his dressing gown into very proper lines.

  “Please, Knight. A nightgown for me and my dressing gown?”

  He grinned at Lily but gave in.

  Over breakfast some thirty minutes later, he said to her as he buttered a slice of warm bread, “We’re leaving in two hours for Brighton.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t think a wedding morning should include a four-year-old girl who not only pokes her elbow into her new papa’s throat but giggles and wonders why we’re sleeping together.”

  “But Brighton? It’s winter, Knight.”

  “I know. There shouldn’t be a soul about. Just you and me. When we’re not in bed, we can talk about it or sing about it, or perhaps even chant about it.”

  She laughed, became warmly flushed, and felt that wonderful surge of pleasure spread over every inch of her body.

  “You’re mad,” she said. “Two hours?”

  Twenty

  The day was cold and clear, the sky a steel blue. Knight couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He leaned out the window of the carriage and waved one last time to the children, who were lined up on the front steps, Theo holding Laura Beth, Sam held upright by two footmen.

  “Mind John,” he shouted. “And Thrombin. And any other adult who tells you to do something.”

  “Laura Beth,” Lily called out, squeezing in beside Knight, “keep your thumb out of your mouth and your fingers out of Mimms’s cookies.”

  “I’ll make sure they obey,” Theo called.

  Knight shook his head. “That boy will either become a vicar or turn into a fanatic revolutionary. No middle road for him.”

  Lily smiled at him, that crooked smile that never failed to arouse him. He pulled her onto his lap as the carriage rolled forward down the long, curving drive of Castle Rosse.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “Oh, yes, my cloak is wonderfully warm.”

  Knight stroked the soft ermine lining. “Your father must have been in a very wealthy period to buy you this.”

  “Yes, it’s from Russia. A Count Something-or-other had bought it for his wife, and my father won it from him in a game of piquet.”

  She snuggled into his arms and laid her face against his. “Are you warm enough?”

  “God, if you only knew, Lily. Keep moving your lovely bottom like that, and it will be the worse for you.”

  She giggled. It was such an unexpected sound, so sweet and clear. Knight felt something deep within him shift. He wanted her, that was all. She was a beautiful woman and she was his wife, and the combination was quite enough to make him feel more things than he’d felt in many a year.

  “Hold still. I mean it, Lily.”

  “All right,” she said. “Shall I move to the other seat?”

  “No, we need to share our warmth.”

  Lily settled herself close against him. He pulled the carriage blanket over her legs and his.

  “Now, I want to talk to you.”

  “That sounds serious. You’re not going to change, are you, Knight?”

 
“Why the devil should I change? You want me to become a thoroughly nasty master?”

  She shook her head against his shoulder. “There were no gentlemen before you, Knight.”

  “I know. I was stupid. I was ignorant and obnoxious and blind. I was the greatest fool alive and—”

  “You’d best stop. You’ve given me enough ammunition for a good decade.”

  “You will forgive me?”

  She kissed his jaw. “Yes. Now, husband, tell me what you wished to talk about.”

  He tightened his arms around her and dropped a kiss on her temple. “I was just thinking perhaps we could visit Burke and Arielle Drummond—they’re the Earl and Countess of Ravensworth—perhaps on our way back from Brighton. Burke and I were boys together, attended Oxford together, joined the army together, and served together in the Peninsula. I was in Paris at the time of the Battle of Toulouse this past April. Burke was wounded, and both of us came home. Of course, with Napoleon’s abdication, we sold out. It was time for us to become civilians again. For Burke in particular, I suppose.”

  “I didn’t know you’d been a soldier.”

  “Don’t tell the children. I’ll be pounded and pummeled for all my adventures, and believe me, most of them are sordid in the extreme. Now, about Burke and Arielle. You and Arielle are the same age, I think. She and Burke haven’t been married long at all. They are both thoroughly nice people.”

  “Will they be surprised? Or do they know about us?”

  “No, they don’t know a bloody thing. I can just imagine the look on Burke’s face, though.”

  “Ah, Knight Winthrop’s infamous philosophy—marriage-at-forty and children are to be protected from their sire’s vagaries.”

  “Exactly. However, once Burke sets eyes on you, my dear, he’ll know I had no choice at all in the matter.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Lily said, and Knight couldn’t deny the absolute sincerity in her voice, even though it was muffled against his coat. “You obviously married me for the children.”

  He laughed at that, then said in a serious voice, “Lily, I don’t think you will ever cease to surprise me.”

  He kissed her again. “I think we’ll stop at The Waddling Goose late this afternoon. It’s a quaint old place in Godalming. Then tomorrow, my dear, we’ll travel on to Brighton. It should be cold and overcast, the elements quite inhospitable, in fact, and as private as we could wish.”

  That sounded just fine to Lily. “No four-year-old little girls to snuggle between us?”

  “No, a twenty-seven-year-old husband will be doing all the snuggling.”

  Their arrival at The Waddling Goose in Godalming brought out the ostler, a Mr. Turnsil, himself. Unfortunately, both Knight and Lily were in no mood for the overly friendly Mr. Turnsil. They’d been kissing and fondling each other for the past hour. Knight was grateful that it was winter and his greatcoat covered him well. He eyed her like a starving man as he helped her from the carriage, but Lily kept her head down. She knew that anyone who glanced at her would see the mad desire in her eyes, see her reddened mouth, and know exactly what they had been doing in that carriage.

  She climbed the narrow inn stairs in front of Knight, her hand on the old wood railing. Suddenly she felt his hand caress her bottom and she jumped.

  “Knight.”

  “You’d best pick up your skirts and run, Lily. It’s going to be an awfully close thing.”

  She did, lifting her cloak and her long skirts and dashing to the top of the stairs.

  “To the right,” he called to her.

  Once inside the bedchamber, a large, airy room with several wide windows that gave onto the village green, Knight drew a deep, steadying breath. Never in his adult life had he felt this way. He studied his fingers as they worked the key in the lock.

  “We’ll have dinner later,” he said, slowly turning to face Lily. She’d taken off her cloak and was unfastening the long row of buttons over the bodice of her gown.

  “Lily.”

  She paused, then smiled, a pained smile, and in the next instant she hurled herself into his arms. “How can you make me feel like this?” she was wailing into his ear. Then she clasped his face between her hands and began kissing his chin, his nose, his eyebrows. “Oh, truly, Knight, I can’t—”

  His hands beneath her buttocks, he lifted her against him, and she arched her back, pressing her belly against him. “It’s too much, truly, too much—”

  “I know,” he managed between kisses. “Dear heaven, I know, love.”

  Knight carried her to the bed and eased her down onto her back. “Damned clothes,” he said and stepped back, his fingers working his shirt buttons.

  Lily tried to calm herself. This was insanity, she thought, this incredible array of sensations that swamped her whenever he touched her. An hour of him fondling her in that carriage, whispering all those things he wanted to do to her, and she wanted—

  “Knight?”

  He didn’t look up from his task. “Hmm?”

  “Do you know something? I’ve never seen you completely without your clothes before.”

  That made him smile and pause. “That’s true enough. And powerfully odd. Last night, well, that was rather strange, I guess you could say. I’m just a man, Lily. You won’t be afraid of me, will you?”

  “Can I assist you, my lord?”

  His hand shook on the buttons of his trousers.

  “Why, yes, I believe you can.”

  Lily, her bodice gaping open, focused all her attention on her husband, whose shirt was on the floor and whose hands were on the waistband of his trousers.

  “Touch me, Lily.”

  She saw the thick bulge and her fingers glided downward, closing around him. He jerked forward and she sucked in her breath. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he said, and she thought he sounded as if he were in intense pain.

  “I’ll help you,” she said and dropped to her knees in front of him. Quickly she unfastened the buttons. Slowly, she pulled down his clothes. When he was standing perfectly naked, Lily sat back on her heels. He looked down just as she looked up.

  “You’re incredible,” she said, and he watched her fingers move upward, lightly skimming his thighs to touch him. He moaned even before she touched him. It was too much.

  “Lily, I can’t wait. I’m in very dire straits.”

  “Yes,” she said, wanting him so much that her body was nearly humming with it. “Oh, yes. But just a moment, Knight. Just one single moment.” And then she touched him, her fingers warm and delicate on his flesh, and he wanted to howl and let himself go. He wanted her mouth on him, but when she leaned forward on her knees, he quickly stepped back. “No, Lily, I can’t. No more, at least not now.”

  She slanted him a look, but he didn’t explain. She frowned just a bit, then rose and began pulling and tugging at her clothes. Knight laughed and helped her. When she was naked, he lifted her and carried her across the room, tossing her onto the bed. In the next instant he came down on top of her. Lily closed her eyes at the feel of his body against hers.

  “There can be nothing better than this in the whole world.”

  “Oh, yes, there can. Just you wait.”

  He moved over her, pressing his hips inward, watching her face. His touted control was a thing of the past. He came into her then, a single powerful thrust that drove him deep. Lily cried out and he froze. “God, did I hurt you?” He was holding himself still over her, his body trembling with the pressure.

  “No. Oh, no.”

  It was enough. Her arms came around his back and she lifted her hips. “Move, Lily. Move your hips with me.”

  She didn’t really understand what he wanted her to do, but her hips moved anyway. He groaned, throwing his head back.

  She was small and so hot he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. And she was Lily and she wanted him, perhaps she even loved him a little, and more than anything he wanted her pleasure first. His voice was a hoarse, raw sound. “Lily,
I—”

  His fingers were between their bodies, finding her, and she bucked against him. He fell onto his side, bringing her with him, then turned once again until he was on his back and she was astride him, looking down at him blankly, not understanding until he closed his hands around her waist and lifted her, positioning her above him, and he felt himself at her womb, so deep was he.

  Her hair was loose and wild about her face and she stared down at him, feeling his hands moving upward to her breasts. She arched her back and he went even deeper into her.

  “Lily, move on me. Do as you wish. Anything you want.”

  She lifted herself, feeling him come slowly out of her body; then, without warning, she came down on him quick and hard and he groaned. He was caressing her breasts, kneading them, rubbing her nipples, and she wondered if he knew that in a second, in less than a second, her body would explode.

  But his knowing hands left her breasts then and she was held on the edge, her body pulsing, wanting more. He slid both hands downward until his skilled fingers were caressing her, and she arched her back wildly, sending her hair flying about her head, and he watched her beautiful face as she bucked and twisted over him, taking her pleasure and taking him with her.

  Lily fell forward, her head nestled against his throat. “I won’t survive this.”

  Knight said nothing. He simply couldn’t believe what had happened. He’d given himself completely to another person, released all control, indeed hadn’t even thought about it. It should have been frightening to him, a man who’d always regarded himself as a woman’s master, as her natural ruler, as the one who controlled, who knew when and how he would give a woman her pleasure whilst he observed and applauded his own skill, his own talents, his own power.

  His own generosity.

  His hands were slowly, automatically, stroking her back. Nothing that had just passed between them had a thing to do with power or generosity or control. His hands stilled. She was kissing his shoulder and he was hardening inside her, filling her again. She felt him and pressed down, taking more of him.