He reached between their bodies and stroked the swollen bud between her labia. He took her to the precipice after one final plunge into her slick cavity. Feeling Caroline convulse, Antonio tensed and shuddered with a release so powerful it had him soaring in a blinding burst of jagged lightning, thunder pounding blood between his ears.
Her quivering body clenched around his, and she felt his warm seed spurt time and time again into her womb.
* * * *
Caroline lay quiet atop him in the afterglow, languid, her head on his chest, their bodies still melded, her legs spread on either side of his while she rubbed her arched soles unconsciously along his hairy calves. His arms enclosed her, his hands stroked gently up and down her spine.
“We’re going to kill one another one day,” he claimed, chuckling with hearty male conviction. Raising his head, Antonio looked down at her, saying, “Jesu, Caro, do you have any idea what you do to me?” He felt her lips twitching against his skin.
She kissed him in the middle of his hairy chest and said, “It’s my wish to die like that, Tonio, wrapped in your arms.” She ticked his nipple with a fingertip and watched it grow hard. “Sometimes I think I do…die a little. But please, not quite so soon, hmm?”
“Te amo, mi corazon, para siempre. I love you. Never leave me.”
He loves me! Her heart soared in joy. If he says so, I must believe him.
Not wanting to break the spell enclosing them in the warm cocoon of their loving aftermath, Antonio couldn’t stand the agony from his wondering. “When James and Lorena return to Westhaven, it will no longer be our home, Caro. We should stay only as long as we’re needed.”
Silently, she nodded against his chest, lightly tracing the bony edge of his jaw with a smoothing fingertip, savoring his declaration of love.
“Will you come with me to Spain, querida?” he asked, blurting it out without any thought of finesse. He leaned down, peering deep into her eyes and waited to hear her agree.
“To Spain, Tonio?”
“Yes, Caro, to Andalucia.”
Abruptly, she sat up and swiveled to face him. “Leave England? For a visit, you mean…as we planned?”
Straightening, he sat up and grasped one of her hands with his and held it tightly, almost painfully. “No, querida, to stay…to live in Spain.”
Caroline’s breath hitched in her throat. She was forced to squeeze her eyes shut, stunned by his admission. He had finally murmured the words of love she had wanted to hear so desperately, and now, he was asking her to leave England forever—abandon the country where she was born and grew up and expected to die. To leave a place she may never see again, or her brother, either. To leave her homeland and move with Tonio to Spain.
Antonio’s nerves coiled with worried thoughts as he watched his wife’s thoughts streak across her countenance. She was silent so long, he stumbled on to explain. “There’s no reason for me to stay here, Caro. I can do what I dreamed of more easily in Spain. But,” he continued carefully, knuckling her cheek and nudging her eyes to open so he might read what she was thinking behind them. “I can’t do it without you, my love. My need for you overshadows everything else. Can you understand? Do you see how much I love you and need you now that we found each other?”
“But, Tonio,” she hesitated. “Hal…Crestwood…”
“Hal will likely marry soon, too, Caro. He’s been searching for a suitable bride. You know that. He’ll choose someone, wed her, and bring her to Crestwood as his wife.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I know you’re right. But Spain…to live in a strange, new land…so very different…” Her voice trailed off, her additional thoughts cloaked in silence. She searched the face of the man she loved—the man she knew she could never be without. His strong arms had held her, comforting and enfolding her close, after their tumultuous lovemaking. That, too, she could never do without. She realized finally, that she would follow him to the ends of the earth if need be.
Perhaps, Spain is not so far away after all.
Caroline inhaled audibly while Antonio waited for her to go on.
She replied at last, quietly and with conviction. “A title never mattered to me, Tonio. I hope you know that. But I love you deeply, my Spaniard. I’ve loved you for many years, so how could I let you go now?”
His face glowed with happiness—and relief.
“It’s my dearest wish to spend the rest of my life with you.” Caroline smiled, openly, love shining out of her hazel eyes. “Yes, of course, I’ll go and live in Spain with you, husband.”
Antonio didn't wait. He hugged her to him and rolled her over, covering her body with his. Smiling down at her, he took her mouth in a tender kiss that soon escalated into a deeper one of renewed commitment for both of them. Entwined that way, they lay quiet before falling asleep.
Chapter 30
The next day dawned hot and humid. After making love once more as the sky grew light, Antonio and Caroline arose. They hurried their sketchy ablutions knowing if they lingered in a bath, they’d lose track of time. Eating breakfast, James and Lorena were already seated in one of the inn’s private dining rooms.
“You’re early risers, cousins,” Antonio greeted them, smiling.
“It’s something we both became accustomed to while working at the White Whale,” James responded.
“Oh my, yes,” Lorena agreed. “It was heaven to sleep on a soft mattress last night instead of lying on scratchy hay in the pub’s stable. I’m surprised we awakened when we did after experiencing such pure pleasure.”
She smiled at her husband.
“You’ll soon get used to your former luxuries, Lorena,” Caroline told her. “After all, you’re the Duke and Duchess of Weston.”
“I understand…but…you and Antonio…”
Antonio interrupted. “We’re going directly to London from here. James must meet with Doctor Swinton, and I shall see our…the family’s…solicitors and hear what is to be done to restore the rightful title and lands to you both—the rightful duke and duchess. In the meantime, let’s enjoy our breakfast so that we can begin your journey home.”
The rescued Thorndykes nodded in agreement.
Just as they were finishing, the innkeeper announced Harold Coachman. “Come in, coachman,” Antonio called to him. “Is all in readiness for our departure?”
“Aye, 'tis, Yer Grace.” Glancing toward James and Lorena, the servant stammered. “I be mighty glad to see ye…er, Yer Graces. We all thought…”
“It’s good to see you again, Harold Coachman,” Lorena answered him quickly. “And to return home.”
“Speaking of that,” Antonio turned to the grizzled driver. “Give this message to your best outrider on the fastest horse. He’s to ride to Westhaven and take it to my Uncle Carlos. My uncle and aunt will notify staff at Weston House of our London arrival. We should be there within the week. The town house is to be opened but the knocker is to remain off the door. Is that understood, Harold Coachman?”
“Aye, Yer Grace.”
“Then get your man on his way. As soon as you’ve done so, bring the carriage round front. We’ll depart immediately.”
The first part of the Thorndykes’ journey took them back across Holy Island and onto the mainland where the hills again gradually rose onto the rougher terrain of the Cambrian Mountains. The coachman set a faster pace but not so fast as to render the horses lame or unable to go on.
Slowed by several days of rainy weather, Antonio sent another of Westhaven’s outriders to alert his grandmother’s servants to be prepared for the four Thorndykes’ unexpected stopover at Stanton House. Harold Coachman had estimated they’d reach Wantage in time for a late supper. The Thorndykes opted to remain overnight, preferring a fresh start before proceeding to London the following day.
* * * *
Antonio had considered stopping at Stanton House with Caroline on their outward trip to Ireland but decided against it. They had connections to make with Terence Kilburn's ship. It was the
first time Antonio had returned to his father’s former estate since he was at university. His grandmother now made her home there.
“Ah, we are here at last, Antonio,” James remarked as the laden coach turned into the entrance and headed up the long drive that curved slightly uphill to a modest manor house.
“You remember it, James? I stayed here during classes when I was at university. But, alas, I haven‘t visited since my return to Spain.” It’s a good sign that James remembered, Antonio thought. Perhaps a return to England would be enough to spur his cousin’s full memory.
“Yes, the countryside seems quite familiar. I believe things are coming back sporadically, Antonio.” James had plied the younger Thorndykes with question after question during the coach trip. Caroline knew more of his recent past than Antonio did, and she tried to give vivid descriptions of what went on at Westhaven and Crestwood before the sailboat accident. Lorena, too, filled in where Caroline left off. Much time was taken up by anecdotes meant to help James recall his former life.
“Oh James,” Caroline said with a wide grin. “I remember one day Demon and I met you at the stream. I can still see the trout jumping out of the water and on to Joshua’s fishhook…”
She stopped short, smothering the rest of her story. “I mean…er…I still recall that you loved to fish. And shoot, too, isn’t that true?” she mumbled, trying to correct her faux pas.
The three had purposely not mentioned Joshua’s name on the way to London.
Caroline met Antonio’s eyes. When she saw his expression, she knew what he was thinking—it was their first real intimate meeting at the same stream.
He winked at her, watching waves of pink rising toward her cheeks. He loved it when she blushed.
“You know, James,” Antonio jumped in to salvage the awkward pause after mention of Joshua’s name. “It was five months ago that I returned to England. Dios, so much has transpired since then.”
James glanced over at Antonio. “Marriage has changed you, Tony. I think so. Am I correct?”
“Si, I’m happy and content. Something I never thought to happen. Caroline and I are to leave for Spain soon. I’ll again be Antonio de las Torres Thorndyke, of Sevilla, Spain, in reality, and not an English duke.”
“I seem to recall that my uncle still holds a powerful title.”
“Yes,” Antonio answered. “If you recall, Sebastian became Earl of Bradford when your father assumed the title of duke.”
James nodded, if a little vaguely.
“My father’s only remaining property in England is the one we’re approaching,” Antonio explained. “Stanton House came to him from his grandmother’s family. The tenant farmers keep it self-sustaining.”
“Your father never had any intention of returning to England permanently?”
“No. It’s seems strange that my father never thought to return to England after Waterloo. But he did not, or he would never have wooed and married my mother. I suppose Sebastian kept Stanton House for its sentimental reasons. When he purchased his colors and left for the Continent, there was a falling out with his mother and our Grandmama. I’m told the estate will remain in the Thorndyke family should we ever need it. Of course, that’s Grandmama dower house, but right now she’s staying at Westhaven to keep an eye on my sister, Briella.”
“Ah, yes. I seem to recall you had a sister. A youngster, an unbridled hoyden.”
“Briella. Yes, she made her come out this past spring,” Antonio replied with a chuckle.
The messenger who was sent ahead by Antonio had reached Stanton House, so all was in readiness for the Thorndykes' expected arrival. The young relatives ate supper in a relaxed mood, slept well then arose early the following morning for the last leg of their journey toward London.
* * * *
As was the usual case, servants at Weston House already knew that James and Lorena, the former duke and duchess, had been found alive in Ireland and were on their way to London with the newest duke and duchess. The staff was agog, flustered, and in somewhat of a quandary as to how to address the two aristocratic couples when they arrived.
After reviewing their predicament, Morris, the Weston House butler advised, “Best we address them all as 'Your Grace' until we’re told otherwise,” he said, pursing his lips. “Now, all of you stop this lollygagging about and get on with your duties. We don’t wish anything amiss when their Graces arrive.”
The clatter of wheels and hooves on the cobblestones outside Weston House announced the arrival of the ducal coach. Harold Coachman pulled the tired horses to an easy halt. Morris threw open the front portal and sent four footmen scurrying down the wide stairs to unlatch the carriage door and pull down the steps. The butler remained austere and dignified at the mansion’s entrance, vowing to keep his composure at all costs when James and Lorena came up the stairs.
Baggage was already being unloaded as the four Thorndykes mounted the stone staircase. Lorena and James preceded Caroline and Antonio. James looked about him as they neared the top step, taking in his surroundings with a sharp eye.
“Good afternoon, Your Graces,” Morris intoned in his most dignified manner, his look resting first on James. “I’m extremely happy you’ve come home to Weston House. I welcome you on behalf of your staff.”
Lorena visibly jumped when James replied, “Good afternoon, Morris. Thank you. It’s good to be back.”
Caroline and Antonio hadn’t overheard the exchange or they, too, would have been surprised that James called the butler by name.
If either James or Lorena turned back after entering the mansion, they would have seen Morris's face, his eyes flooded with glad tears in danger of overflowing. He blinked rapidly to keep the salty fluid from escaping. Such an overwhelming circumstance would have disgraced his butler-like countenance. Morris greeted Antonio and Caroline, his eyes boring straight ahead, so as not to show any emotional response to the safe return of his former master and mistress.
James and Lorena halted and looked around as if they couldn’t believe their good fortune to be really home. Lorena looked up at her husband and saw his eyes taking in the reality of it. Unmoving, they paused at the foot of the stairs to the second story.
“Thank God,” James murmured a fervent prayer as he squeezed his wife’s gloved fingers.
Speaking up quickly, Caroline requested, “Morris, please have tea ready in a half hour. I think we’d like to freshen up before that.” Morris seemed to hesitate, and Antonio perceived his dilemma.
“Show their Graces to the duke's suite, Morris. You may put Lady Caroline and my baggage in the Rose Suite.”
“Has Daisy arrived?” Caroline asked.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Morris replied. “I’ll see that she’s summoned immediately.”
“Thank you. Please arrange for one or two servants to assist Your Graces.” Antonio nodded to the butler.
Lorena and James mounted the elegant staircase to the upper floor. At Morris' direction, a footman hurried ahead to the duke's bedchamber and swung open the door. Meanwhile, James had strolled slowly along the corridor, observing family portraits, sculptures, and artifacts—everything that should be familiar to him. Lorena watched her husband closely, but said nothing. The footman holding the door couldn’t resist saying, “Welcome home, Your Graces.”
“Thank you, Standish,” James replied to the footman, adding a smile. James closed the door behind him and Lorena.
“James!” Lorena almost shrieked. “You remembered our servants’ names, dearest! What else do you remember? Tell me…tell me now,” she exclaimed, her fingers gripping his sleeve as she gazed up at her smiling husband.
“Lorena…Oh, God, Lorena, it’s coming back. I don't know how or why, but it's coming back. I simply knew that Morris was our butler and that one of our footman was named Standish.”
“Oh, thank the Lord, James!” Tears coursed down her cheeks as she sobbed in happiness. James put his comforting arms around his wife to calm her. “It will be all right,
my dear. Please don't cry.”
“But…but…James, you remember!”
He stepped away from her and meandered around the room touching objects here and there. “Not everything, Lorena, not yet. But I feel much more like James Thorndyke now that we're back in England. We must still go slowly, dearest. Just keep telling me things I should know. I don’t want you to say anything yet to Antonio and Caroline. Not until I’m sure.”
“And do you remember Joshua?” she asked hesitantly.
James's face clouded, wiping away his happy smile. “I told you, wife,” he declared firmly. “I know nothing of anyone named Joshua.” His annoyance was evident. “Do not persist in that folly for you only anger me, Lorrie,” he replied harshly. He snapped around and strode through the dressing room that separated the duchess’s bedchamber and that of the duke’s.
Lorena slumped into a nearby chair with head bowed. She was upset anew at her husband’s volatile reaction to Joshua's name. Everything was still not right with him. They must see Doctor Swinton as soon as possible.
* * * *
Early the next morning Antonio sent a messenger to one of Weston’s aging solicitors, Phineas Marble. He arrived shortly after ten o’clock and was quickly closeted with Antonio in the Weston House library.
Lorena and James awaited the arrival of Doctor Swinton in their chambers. The physician was flabbergasted upon learning of their rescue, and assured the messenger who arrived from Weston House that he would attend the aristocrats forthwith. True to his word, he was on their doorstep within the hour and was ushered up to the duke's chambers with all due haste.
Only Caroline had no pressing plans. She bathed leisurely while everyone else was busy. It gave her something to do while waiting to learn what happened behind those two important doors—the duke’s study and the duke's bedchamber.
Daisy helped her mistress. “'Tis all of a miracle, my lady,” she began. “Imagine, the duke and duchess in Ireland all this time, and we thought them drowned.”
The Reluctant Duke Page 29
