The Wayward Bride
Page 23
He played there for a while, exploring Sydney’s body, but then…then…
Lucas’s hand slid over Sydney’s belly. He stroked his palm over the clenched muscles of Sydney’s stomach, and then he slid lower, under his navel, where his dark hair narrowed to a thin line. Then, dear God, his hand slid even lower, and closer, so close, but not quite close enough…
Sydney groaned, his head rolling against the pillow at the exquisite torture. “Please, Luke. Touch me, please.”
“Shhh.” Lucas continued to stroke his lower belly, but now his wicked fingers were brushing over the head of Sydney’s cock, which was peeking hopefully over the waistband of his breeches.
Sydney moaned and trembled under Lucas’s teasing touch. He couldn’t move much because of his shoulder, but he’d never been more aroused in his life. Yes, there was a part of him that wished he could open his arms and take Lucas’s weight on top of him, but another part wanted to lie here, nearly still, while Lucas stroked him.
Once or twice over the years there’d been a man more special to Sydney than the others—someone he’d cared for. But he’d never felt about anyone the way he did about Lucas. He wanted to give every part of himself to Lucas—to be vulnerable to him. It was as if the sun rose and set with this man. As if he’d been born to touch him and would die if he couldn’t. As if Lucas was the center of his world and nothing could ever be right again without him.
Lucas’s fingers drifted over his cock. He stroked Sydney’s eager length once, then again, and then brushed his lips over Sydney’s ear. “Is this what you want, Sydney?”
I want everything from you…
“Yes,” Sydney whispered. He took Lucas’s hand and brought it to the buttons of his falls. “Yes.”
Chapter Nineteen
The first thing Isla did when she woke the next morning was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. She disentangled herself from Hugh’s warm, sleeping embrace and crept to the window. It was early still, and the bedchamber was dark, but a peek through the drapes revealed the faintest hint of light hovering at the horizon.
For the first time in four days, it looked as if the sun would conquer the clouds.
The storm had passed, and there was nothing to keep her from returning to Huntington Lodge today. Which was just as it should be, of course. Sydney was likely waiting for her there, half-mad with worry, and Hugh had Lady Juliana and Grace to attend to here at Hazelwood.
It was past time for everyone to return to their proper places. She was relieved at it, really—yes, she was. If she stayed any longer, it would be far too easy to begin to look at this time with Hugh as her due, instead of the few precious, stolen moments they were.
It would be far too easy to start thinking of him as hers.
She turned back toward the bed. Hugh was splayed out on his back, his arms flung wide, the coverlet crumpled into a tangled mass at his hips. Despite her hopelessness, Isla’s lips curved in a small smile. For such a proper gentleman, he certainly slept with great abandon.
Slept, made love, fell in love…
Isla tiptoed back to the bed, slid under the covers, and pressed herself as closely as she could against Hugh’s warm body. He made a purring noise deep in his throat and threw one muscular arm around her to draw her closer still, but he slept on.
She didn’t wake him. Once she did, she’d have to ask him to take her back to Huntington Lodge, and this would be well and truly over. So, she lay beside him, her eyes tightly shut, and dreamed of pushing the sun back under the horizon and making this moment last forever.
She woke a little while later to Hugh’s warm lips nuzzling her neck. “You smell delicious this morning,” he murmured, as his lips drifted over her skin. “Like sweet vanilla, and warm, drowsy female. How do you contrive to smell so lovely first thing in the morning?”
“Well, to begin with, I am a warm, drowsy female.”
He chuckled and cupped a breast in his hand, languidly teasing her nipple with his thumb. “Perhaps that’s it.”
Isla stretched like a spoiled cat under his touch, her body already melting for him. But even as she reached down to stroke him, and urged him to lie between her legs, a part of her was thinking of the weak light peeking through the drapes, the inevitable rise of the sun.
He made love to her slowly, teasing and stroking and caressing every inch of her body until at last he entered her and brought her to a gasping, shuddering release. He held her close when he found his own pleasure, his groans muffled against her neck.
If he was mine, we’d fall asleep together now…
But he wasn’t hers, and she could no longer pretend otherwise. She tangled her fingers in his damp hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Hugh.”
He must have sensed the direction of her thoughts, because he stiffened, and his arms tightened around her. “No.”
Isla had to close her eyes against the pain in his voice. “We have to.”
“No. Not yet.”
“I can’t…I can’t bear to sit through breakfast. I need you to take me back to Huntington Lodge before then. Please, Hugh.”
He drew back. His dark eyes searched hers, and whatever he saw there made him snatch her against his chest and bury his face in her hair. “Shhh. It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll take you now.”
The fire had long since died to embers, so they dressed quickly in the cold bedchamber. The house was quiet, Hugh’s guests still fast asleep, and they slipped down the stairs and into the stables undetected.
The stableboy was propped on a hay bale in the corner, dozing, but he scrambled to attention when Isla and Hugh entered. “Good morning, my lord.”
“The sleigh, Percy, if you would,” Hugh said. “Tell Lewis to ready himself for a drive to Huntington Lodge.”
“Right away, my lord.” The boy bobbed his head and darted off to do his master’s bidding.
Isla wandered over to visit with her horse, Sophie, who’d come to her stall door and nickered in greeting. “Here you are, my good girl.” Isla stroked the horse’s nose. “My, you look comfortable, Sophie. They’ve taken good care of you, haven’t they?”
Hugh came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Always. Only the tenderest care will do for the ladies from Huntington Lodge.”
“I’m afraid she’ll want to stay here forever.” Isla’s tone was light, but there was a thread of wistfulness there, and they both knew she wasn’t speaking of Sophie.
“I’ll have one of the grooms bring her back to Huntington Lodge later today.” Hugh took her shoulders in his hands and turned her to face him. “I’m afraid you’ll be cold.” He drew the neck of her cape tighter around her shoulders.
His tender expression made tears gather in her throat. She choked them back and forced a smile. “I’ll be just fine.”
“We’ll go slowly,” he whispered with a sad smile. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Once they were settled in the sleigh, Hugh tucked a thick blanket around them, then signaled to the driver. “Take care with the ice and the deeper drifts of snow, Lewis. There’s no rush. No rush at all,” he added, his gaze on Isla.
“Yes, my lord.” Lewis set off down the drive toward the main road. The snow was melting quickly, but it wasn’t yet packed down, and it looked as if very few people had been through. Their progress was slow.
“It’s been years since I’ve ridden in a sleigh.” Isla glanced at Hugh out of the corner of her eye. It was ridiculous, given she’d spent the night naked in his arms, but suddenly she felt a little shy. He was just so handsome, with his mussed dark hair and the cold biting red into his cheeks. She felt a bit dazed, just as she had the first time she’d seen him. She’d thought him terribly handsome then, too, and she’d been curious about what he might be hiding under his very correct, proper exterior.
Now she knew.
Kindness, stren
gth, passion, warmth, and most of all, an unending capacity for love. As a young girl, she’d dreamed of such a gentleman, but even her dreams didn’t do him justice.
Hugh smiled at her and took her hand under cover of the blanket. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have to kiss you, Miss Ramsey.”
Isla managed a smile, but her heart was as heavy as a stone in her chest. “What do you mean? How am I looking at you?”
Hugh’s smile faded, and when he spoke, his voice was low and dark with anguish. “You look at me like you love me, Isla.”
“Because I do.”
A few of the tears she’d been trying so hard to hold back slid down her cheeks then. Hugh caught them on his gloved fingertips, but he looked as if his heart was breaking. Isla squeezed his hand and let him wipe her tears away. She wouldn’t cry now, not in these last few moments with him. There would be time to weep for him later.
A lifetime.
They didn’t speak much after that, but sat with their hands clasped as the sleigh skimmed over the snow toward Huntington Lodge.
The sun had been above the horizon for only an hour when they reached the front entrance, but to Isla’s surprise, Hyacinth appeared at the door. “Ah, here you are! I did hope you’d find your way back today,” she called cheerfully, as Hugh assisted Isla from the sleigh.
“My goodness, Hyacinth, what are you doing up at such an early hour?”
“Waiting for you, of course. Lachlan’s been scolding me for days for worrying over you, but I…well, I was worried, and I missed you dreadfully.”
Hyacinth opened her arms. Isla dove into them, and as soon as they closed around her, it was everything she could do not to burst into tears. “I missed you, too. I’m sorry I worried you, but you see how well I am,” she managed, hoping Hyacinth wouldn’t remark on how shaky her voice was.
Hyacinth released her, then held her at arm’s length and swept a critical gaze over her. “You do look very well. Remarkably well, in fact, for a lady who nearly froze to death not four days ago. But Finn assured me Lord Pierce would take good care of you, and I see he has.” She turned to Hugh with a bright smile. “I’m afraid she must have been a great deal of trouble. How will we ever thank you, my lord, for taking such good care of her?”
He bowed. “No thanks are necessary, Lady Ramsey. It was my great pleasure to be of service to Miss Ramsey.”
His voice broke a little on the word pleasure, but Isla could already see his polite mask descending and the reserved, proper Lord Pierce coming to the surface. She understood why he had to pull away from her, but understanding a thing didn’t make it hurt any less.
He bowed to them and turned to go, but Hyacinth stayed him with a hand on his arm. “But you can’t leave, Lord Pierce! You must come inside and warm yourself first. Can’t I offer you some tea to chase away the cold?”
“No, thank you. I have guests waiting for me at Hazelwood and must return at once.”
Hyacinth darted a quick, assessing glance between Hugh and Isla, but then her smile was back. “Yes, of course. I understand. On my family’s behalf, I thank you again for your help, Lord Pierce. As I said, Miss Ramsey is a great deal of trouble, but we’re quite fond of her, all the same.”
“Yes, I…yes, of course.” Hugh offered them another stiff bow, then hurried back to the sleigh and signaled the driver to go. The runners skimmed smoothly over the snow as they made their way down the long drive that led to the front of Huntington Lodge, then turned onto the main road. Within minutes, they were out of sight.
Isla’s heart lodged in her throat as she watched them go. When she turned to face Hyacinth, she found her sister watching her closely, recognition dawning on her face.
“He… I…” Isla began, but she soon discovered she didn’t have any words.
It didn’t matter. Hyacinth read the truth on her face, just as she always did. “Oh, my dear girl.” She didn’t say another word, but simply opened her arms.
This time when Isla went to her, she didn’t try to hold back her tears. She let Hyacinth stroke her back and murmur soothingly to her as she gave vent to a grief that threatened to tear her in two.
* * * *
Despite the early hour, Hyacinth and Isla skipped the tea and went straight for the sherry. They tucked themselves into a back parlor and sipped the sweet liquor while Isla poured out the entire story to Hyacinth, starting from the day she’d left Huntington Lodge until she’d returned that morning.
Hyacinth listened. Aside from a few anxious murmurs when Isla’s tears fell, she said very little. When Isla had at last talked herself hoarse and cried herself dry, Hyacinth poured another measure of sherry into each of their glasses and settled herself comfortably into a corner of the settee.
“This is quite wicked of us.” Hyacinth held up her glass and studied the pale golden liquid in the bowl before raising it to her lips for a hearty swallow. “But I daresay a little wickedness now and then never hurt anyone.”
Isla sighed. “Sneaking out of the house during an ice storm, endangering my brothers and Lord Pierce, falling in love with a man who isn’t my betrothed… A tiny nip of sherry on a cold morning is the least wicked thing I’ve done this week, Hyacinth.”
It wasn’t at all funny, but after a short silence, both of them burst into a fit of helpless giggles. “Oh, dear.” Hyacinth wiped her eyes. “That does sound rather bad, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.” Isla’s smile faded as she covered Hyacinth’s hand with hers. “You asked me not to ride out that day. I promised I wouldn’t, and then I broke that promise. I beg your pardon for it, Hyacinth. It was wrong of me. You’re very dear to me, and I don’t like that I worried you.”
Hyacinth gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “I forgive you, and here you are, with no harm done to you. I’ve very grateful for that.”
Isla’s throat went tight. No, no harm done, aside from a broken heart. “I should have listened to you that day. You can’t know how much I regret that I didn’t.”
Hyacinth studied her, then leaned forward and placed her glass on the table. When she turned to Isla again, her face was somber. “No, you don’t.”
Isla had gone back to her sherry, but now she peered at Hyacinth over the edge of her glass, startled. “Don’t what?”
“Regret it. I don’t believe that, Isla.”
“But of course, I… How could I not feel as if… Why, it’s the worst thing that could have…” Isla fell silent as confusion washed over her. Of course, she regretted it. Didn’t she?
Hyacinth folded her hands in her lap, her steady blue eyes fixed on Isla, and waited.
Isla sat still as her tangled thoughts tried to right themselves in her head.
Her heart was broken, and worse, she now had to live with the knowledge that Hugh’s heart was as shattered as hers was. She could no longer marry Sydney, she hadn’t the faintest idea how she was going tell him, and she dreaded hurting him. Her brothers were very likely furious with her, and it appeared she’d taken to drinking first thing in the morning.
In short, her life was in utter disarray, and yet…
Hugh had never turned his back on her. The scandal at Lady Entwhistle’s, the ugly secret about James Baird, her betrothal to Sydney—he’d loved her through it all. Even when he believed she’d betrayed him, he’d never stopped loving her.
I couldn’t stay away, even after I’d lost all hope…I’d wait all day just for the briefest glimpse of you.
How could she ever regret having had the chance to tell Hugh she loved him? Or hearing it from him in return? How could she ever regret making love with him and sleeping in his arms?
She couldn’t. Those moments with Hugh—those memories she’d have of him—were worth any pain she had to endure now.
The day of the storm, when she’d been staring up at the dark windows of Hazelwood, she’d acc
used fate of abandoning her. But fate hadn’t, had she? Fate had been there all along. She hadn’t fulfilled Isla’s every hope and dream, but she’d given her so much more than Isla had before she’d ventured out into the storm that day. It had been terribly foolish of her to ride out, but at the same time, it had also been the worthiest risk she’d ever taken.
Hyacinth had been sitting quietly beside her as Isla turned these thoughts over in her head, and now Isla met her sister’s gaze. “You’re right. I don’t regret it. Not a single moment of it.”
Hyacinth smiled and patted her hand. “No. Of course, you don’t. How could you?”
“It’s going to cause an uproar before it’s all set to rights, though.” Isla swirled the sherry in her glass, watching it cling to the bowl. “I can’t marry Lord Sydney.”
Hyacinth didn’t look in the least surprised to hear this. “No, I don’t imagine you can. We’ll have to figure out how to manage your brothers, of course. Finn’s likely to be furious, and he’s the least of your worries. Lachlan and Ciaran… Dear God, they’re both going to go mad. They’re sure to point out marriage to Lord Sydney is your only respectable way out of the Lady Entwhistle scandal.”
Isla winced. She was well aware her reputation would never recover. “I know, but I can’t do that to Sydney, Hyacinth. He deserves so much more. I want him to have the deepest love a person can have, and as much as I adore him, I can’t offer him that.”
“Of course, he does deserve that. I understand.”
Hyacinth’s tone was soothing, but Isla noticed the worried furrow on her brow, and all at once gooseflesh rose on her arms. “Sydney is here at Huntington Lodge, Hyacinth?” It was the first thing Isla had asked when she came through the door this morning, but now she thought back on it, Hyacinth hadn’t really answered her. “Hyacinth? Sydney’s here?”