A Promise of More

by Bronwen Evans

  “Oh my God.” The restless flames of desire erupted within her. Erupted into a firestorm. At her first scream, he took her mouth. Their lips melded, tongues tangled, hands gripping, their bodies merging in a frantic and driving need. He thrust harder, faster, and even more powerfully. She gave herself over to him, sinking her nails into his buttocks, pulling him close, urging him deeper. She was wild to provoke him as he was provoking her.

  They were desperate for each other. Neither trying to dominate, both wanting to take this journey together. The hunger between them was as timeless as man and woman. She writhed feverishly, her nails digging deeper, as she instinctively matched his rhythm. He squeezed his eyes shut like a man in pain, his breathing rough as he moved inside her, thrusting gently into her melting flesh.

  When she was on the brink of climax, he reached down between their bodies to find the engorged bud of her sex. Stunned, she arched against him, straining, crying out as a shattering, burning sensation broke within her.

  Sebastian captured her wild moans with his mouth but never stopped thrusting, using all his skill to prolong her ecstasy as wave after wave of rapture convulsed her slender body. When she bucked and writhed against him, he clenched his teeth, striving for control, trying desperately to keep his savage need in check as he lay buried deep inside her.

  It was too much. A great shudder moved through his frame as Sebastian at last let himself fall. A hoarse moan ripped from his throat as he plunged into an endless raw pleasure so intense it seared.

  Finally it was over. He was shaken as he lay there in the darkness, yet eventually consciousness returned. When he felt her trembling beneath him, a fierce tenderness engulfed his heart.

  Easing his weight to the side, he pulled the covers up over them and drew her into his arms. He wrapped his body around her, warming her, calming her. They lay there together, weak in the aftershocks of pleasure. After a long moment, he lifted his head. In the light from the fire, she looked like an angel, with her tangled cloud of auburn hair, her pale ivory skin, her lush lips swollen and wet from his kisses.

  It was amazing that she should have such an effect on him, Sebastian thought absently. She was physically inexperienced, a total virgin, and yet making love to her had created a whirlpool of feelings inside him that were entirely unexpected. The fierce sweetness of it had possessed him totally. Even though the marriage vows he had spoken were nothing more than a cold business arrangement, what happened tonight in this bed seemed to bond them together in ways he had never intended, yet he couldn’t regret it.

  Wife. The word was strange, and it engendered even stranger feelings of longing and need. He knew he had always wanted to marry in order to have an heir, a son, but the odd ache in the vicinity of his heart had nothing to do with a marriage of convenience. And it scared him more than a loaded pistol pointed at his head. As if she could sense his bewildered reflections, the woman in his arms stirred. She was watching him, Sebastian realized, her eyes searching. Desire knifed through him again, sharp and insistent, but he clamped down on his lust, reminding himself of her virginal state and his promise not to hurt her.

  “Are you all right?” he murmured, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

  “Yes.” A sigh whispered from her. “That was … indescribable.”

  A smile touched his mouth as a fresh wave of tenderness flooded him. “I’m pleased I didn’t disappoint.”

  “I hope you would tell me if I was a disappointment to you.” If the only thing they could share in their married life was passion, then she wanted to be good at it. Her life would be hell if Sebastian found nothing of value in her except as a breeder.

  He lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Have no doubt …” He kissed her again. “… I thoroughly enjoyed myself. If I didn’t have to show some consideration for your prior virginal state, I’d be looking forward to sharing passion with you all night.” At her slight frown of skepticism, he gave a soft laugh and pulled her into the security of his arms. “Go to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  She gave a wistful sigh. She brushed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Thank you. Thank you for making it special for me. You don’t know how scared I was.”

  He gazed at her, wanting to chase away the shadows in her beautiful eyes. “I will do my utmost to never hurt you.”

  She nodded, understanding he meant not just physically. But he could so easily hurt her, because after tonight her heart was engaged. “I’m pleased that I propositioned you on your boat. I’m just really sad at the way our relationship had to start. I’m sorry for accusing you of being heartless and shooting Doogie.”

  A look of sadness passed over his face, and she reached out to touch his mouth with her fingers. He gently pressed a kiss against them.

  “In the morning, after the wedding, we will set about finding out who killed your brother, and then we can put the terrible way we met behind us and try to live our lives together as happily as we can.”

  He was surprised to find he meant that. If truth be told, he was very satisfied with their marriage. He’d found a wife he was unlikely to have to spend the rest of his life avoiding. Beatrice appeared intelligent and sensible, not prone to hysterics, and was very desirable. If the marriage progressed along these lines, then he couldn’t see why they could not be friends.

  He watched as Beatrice fell into an exhausted sleep. She looked younger and more vulnerable, her lashes dark against her pale skin. He brushed a finger over her cheek—so soft, so delicate.

  He fell asleep with a satisfied smile on his face. He’d made a good bargain that day on the boat. He’d fulfilled his obligation to wed and soon he’d sire children. He’d found a passionate wife, a woman who could be his friend, but more importantly a woman far too sensible to bring love into the equation.

  Chapter Six

  Lord Markham and Lady Serena’s wedding was just as small as hers and Sebastian’s had been, but much more beautiful. Lady Serena looked a picture of the glowing bride, and Lord Markham’s adopted daughter, Lily, watched with joy shining within her young eyes. It was obvious the couple were completely in love with each other. The way Lord Markham looked at Lady Serena brought tears to Beatrice’s eyes. For one moment she wondered if a man like Sebastian could ever look at her like that. She rubbed her chest. With an agonizing pang she realized she wanted him to look at her as if she were his whole world.

  Exactly the way Lord Markham looked at his bride.

  She had never before been around a couple prepared to show their obvious affection for each other. In fact, she had never seen a marriage based on the joint sharing of love rather than social position or economic gain. Something budded and bloomed in her chest.

  In light of the couple’s happiness, she was ashamed of the way she’d forced Sebastian to marry her. Not only had she robbed herself of any chance of finding love—and given her age, that was a fanciful dream—but she’d also robbed Sebastian, and he’d definitely have no trouble persuading any woman to fall in love with him.

  Now that she’d—she felt her face flush with heat—come to know him intimately, he was not only kind, gentle, and sensual, he was beauty personified. Male perfection coupled with the ultimate considerate lover. She fidgeted with her bonnet. She didn’t have to close her eyes in order to picture him naked. Every muscle, every rippling muscle, was branded on her brain. His scent too was imprinted upon her, his musky potency making her warm all over in the coolness of the chapel.

  The things he’d done to her, with her … what he’d made her feel. She’d woken this morning a tad sore, but luxuriating in her burgeoning womanhood. She’d been eager for another lesson in passion, but Sebastian had already risen. He was standing up for Lord Markham and took his duties seriously.

  She’d been embarrassed by the level of her disappointment and sensual longing. She would not become a clinging wife. Sebastian would grow tired of that very quickly, and she’d agreed to be a good wife. Therein lay the dilemma. What, or how, did she become a good w
ife?

  Just then he glanced across the chapel and smiled at her. She could hardly catch her breath. He was so handsome. Beatrice blinked back a tear. She could very easily lose her heart to a man such as he, if she hadn’t already. That terrified her. Their agreement definitely did not mention love. In fact, he despised the very idea of love.

  Yet, seeing the joy in Lady Serena’s eyes, she wondered, how could such happiness be evil? What happiness could Sebastian and she find if they formed a love match?

  Fool! Sebastian spoke of love as if it were something evil. She was hardly the type of woman to inspire romantic love in any man, let alone a renowned rake like Sebastian Hawkestone. His godlike looks and his reputation as a masterful lover led the most beautiful women in the world to literally fall at his feet. If none of them had won his heart, how was she, the woman called Henpeck Hennessey, supposed to achieve the impossible? For goodness’ sake, she’d had to blackmail him into marriage.

  Lord Fullerton interrupted her misery to whisper, “They look happy, don’t they?”

  Beatrice tried to shield her envious expression. “Yes. Lady Serena is very beautiful. They make a handsome couple.”

  “As do you and Sebastian, my lady.”

  She didn’t know where to look. Lord Fullerton was being kind. She wasn’t beautiful like Lady Serena. No man had ever looked at her with longing—well, except Sebastian had seemed to admire how she looked last night. Her pulse hitched. Did he think she was, if not beautiful, then perhaps passably pretty?

  The service completed, the couple and Sebastian moved to the back of the chapel to sign the required documents.

  She turned to Lord Fullerton. “No doubt you’re surprised to find your friend married. And married to someone like me.”

  Lord Fullerton frowned briefly. “Someone like you? If you mean Doogie’s sister, then no, I’m not surprised. Sebastian is one of the most honorable men I know. He would of course step up and ensure your family’s survival.”

  “And now? Would he have wished to do so knowing he may not have killed my brother?” She tried not to let the guilt choke her. “I wouldn’t blame him if he resented me for forcing this marriage.”

  He laughed out loud, the sound bouncing off the cold stone walls. “Force? You couldn’t have forced Sebastian to do anything he didn’t wish to do.” He winked. “I suspect, given his chirpy mood this morning, he is perfectly content with the situation he’s in.”

  With face flaming, she looked across at her husband. He was smiling and laughing with Lord Markham. He did look relaxed. Heat flooded her body as she remembered how satisfied he’d appeared after they’d made love last night. He certainly did not look like a man who was bitter because he’d had to wed her.

  “I intend to be a good wife to him. I, my family, owe him everything.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make him an excellent wife.”

  “You don’t know me, so how can you judge?”

  Lord Fullerton’s attention seemed to have moved toward Lord Labourd. “Hmm, well, don’t cause him trouble and do bear him a son. That’s what any man wants in his wife.” With that, he strode over to Lord Labourd’s side.

  She looked at the happy couple as they made their way back down the chapel aisle, and doubted very much that Lord Markham had married Lady Serena simply to beget his children. It was obvious he wanted her by his side as they made a life together.

  Envy, like a poison ivy vine, wrapped itself around her, the venom spreading unabated, until she felt ill.

  She spied Sebastian gazing at her with narrowed eyes. She shook off her melancholy and plastered a smile on her face. He was by her side in a few long strides.

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips. Even through her gloves, a light press was enough to send her thoughts skittering.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to wake you this morning, my sweet,” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

  Not as sorry as she was. She longed to wake in his arms, to feel his strength, his warmth, his hardness …

  “You were needed elsewhere. The ceremony was lovely.”

  He looked at the newly married couple and smiled. “I’m happy for my friend. When he was badly burned at Waterloo, he never thought he’d find any woman who’d love him. A woman who would not just love his title and money, that is.”

  Her mouth opened in surprise. “He wanted to find love? I thought gentlemen married for many reasons, but not love. Your words, I believe.”

  Sebastian looked sheepish. “A war changes a man, apparently. He endured the horrors of the battlefield and he made no secret he wanted a love match if he survived.” His mouth softened as he caught Christian’s ecstatic gaze. “I’m happy for them both.”

  Beatrice remained silent, wondering what he thought about their marriage. Perhaps Sebastian didn’t think about their marriage at all. It simply was.

  She was so caught up in her husband’s presence she didn’t notice Lady Serena approach until she said, “Lady Beatrice, my apologies for not being able to introduce myself this morning, I’m Lady Serena Markham,” and Lady Serena hooked her arm through hers. “Come, let us head back to the drawing room, where refreshments are waiting. I can’t wait to hear the delightful details of how you became married to this rake,” she said, digging Sebastian with her elbow. “The rogue has a special place in my heart, but I suspect you’ll have to take a firm hand.” She poked her tongue out at Sebastian’s growl of amusement.

  Another wave of envy washed over her at Serena’s causal teasing. Would she ever feel that comfortable with Sebastian? “Congratulations, my lady.”

  “Please, call me Serena.”

  “I’m Beatrice,” she said, and leaned forward to give Serena a kiss on her cheek. “I would be more than happy to share my tale, be it is a mercenary one.” She slid a quick look at Sebastian. “It would be far more entertaining to hear about my husband’s exploits.”

  Settled in the drawing room, Serena and Beatrice sat drinking tea. Lily, having grown bored with the adult chatter, had left to go riding.

  Beatrice took the opportunity, somewhat ashamedly, to tell Serena her story.

  Serena reached across and patted Beatrice’s hand. “I say, ‘Bravo!’ You did a brave thing approaching a man you did not know in order to save your family. If I’d been in your position, I probably would have done the same thing.”

  “You would never be in my position. You would have had plenty of offers of marriage long before you reached my age.”

  Serena daintily plucked a sugarplum and popped it in her mouth. Beatrice took the opportunity to turn the conversation toward Sebastian. She wasn’t even particularly subtle about it either. She needed to understand the man she’d married. “Have you known Sebastian long?” Beatrice waited for her to finish eating, impatient for her answer before the men intruded on their conversation.

  “No, not long at all.” At Beatrice’s puzzled frown she added, “You’d have to be a woman on your deathbed not to notice a man like Sebastian Hawkestone, so yes, I’ve known who he was since I had my come-out. But know him …” She shook her head. “I first talked with him in Jamaica a few months ago.” Her face sobered. “He protected me even when he thought I’d killed my husband. A great kindness I won’t forget. That’s why I like seeing him happy.”

  Blast. Serena didn’t really know Sebastian either, not enough to help her understand the man she’s married. She hadn’t been so disappointed since her brother stole the last of her mother’s jewels and lost them at the gaming tables. She’d been devastated then and her stomach cramped just the same now.

  “Do you want to make him happy?” Serena asked.

  She saw the question in Serena’s eyes, and perhaps a warning.

  Beatrice licked her lips. “I have only known my husband a total of a few days, but yes”—she nodded vigorously—“from what I have learned of the man, I want both of us to be happy. I want what you and Christian share.”

  Serena glanced across at the men. “I
t won’t be easy. The Libertine Scholars are men who have been pursued for their titles and wealth—and their looks. They don’t have very high opinions of women and are as suspicious as a mouse facing a trap. The cheese may look very inviting but it comes with unforeseen consequences.”

  “But I’m already his wife. The consequence has pounced. I never thought I’d ever marry, so I had no opinion on what I wanted from a marriage. But now that I find my life tied inevitably to another’s, I don’t want it to be a lonely existence—for either of us.”

  Serena clapped her hands. “Then we have a lot of work to do. Sebastian’s past will not make your task easy.”

  “I thought you didn’t know …”

  Serena gave her a sly smile. “But my husband knows him very well, and since your sudden and unexpected arrival last night, I must admit I did my fair share of fishing for information, in between other more pleasurable pursuits.”

  Beatrice’s face flushed with heat. Ignoring Serena’s wink, she asked, “Did you learn anything useful?”

  Serena poured them both more tea, then glanced briefly over her shoulder to ensure the men were otherwise occupied, and leaned in close to whisper. “It appears that Sebastian’s parents had a volatile marriage. Apparently, it was a love match, and was fine until after Sebastian was born. Then, the rumor was, Sebastian’s father got caught in an indiscretion. In retaliation his wife took a lover and it all escalated from there. All-out war, with each parent trying to rouse the jealousy of the other.” Serena sat back and sighed. “The children got caught in the middle.”

  “That cannot have been pleasant. My parents barely spoke to each other. Sometimes silence is as damaging as shouts. I don’t want my children to endure either.”

  “Sebastian has looked after his sisters, and I know he loves them dearly. He would be a loving father. He’d never subject his children to a cold household.”