by Goldie
“Oh, that won’t have tongues wagging.”
The duke seemed to ponder the fly in the ointment for a long moment. “I see your point, but the engagement cannot be too long, either. For if Miss Locksley is with child, the tongues will simply wag later rather than sooner.”
“Still, I want a lovely ceremony. I want flowers and…”
“Do you want a new gown, too?” the duke asked snidely.
Edmund smiled. “Is that an option? If it is, I want silk.”
* * * *
Goldie tried to hold back the tears, but they seemed to fall of their own accord. How had she come to this point? Not one brother had broken her heart. Two had. Why had William left so abruptly? Why? Did she displease him so much that he could just walk away?
“Don’t cry, dear. Your father will fix this. You will see.” Yet despite her words of comfort, Mother sat beside her on the settee, twisting her hands in obvious worry.
“I don’t see how,” she replied. But her sorrow and her mother’s were different. For she no longer cared what Joseph did or didn’t do. Her fresh anguish lay at William’s feet.
Mother didn’t meet her gaze, didn’t offer to wipe away her tears. She just sat there, wringing those pitiable hands and staring into the dying embers of the dark, marbled fireplace.
At the tap on the door, Mother stood and glanced over her shoulder, her jaw trembling. “Daughter, what horror will we face next?”
Goldie lowered her chin and stared down at the red and black pattern of the Oriental rug, unable to offer her mother the answer she so wished she possessed.
“Mrs. Locksley?”
The voice of the butler rang strong though the closed study door.
“Yes?” she replied, trepidation obvious in her wavering tone.
“The duke and your husband have arrived and wish to speak with you and Miss Locksley. They are in the duke’s office.”
“Come along, Goldie,” her mother said, offering her hand.
As if on her way to the gallows, Goldie rose from her perch on the edge of the settee and took hold of her mother for support. With her chin still lowered, she fought back the blinding tears and followed her mother out into the large hall that would take them to her certain doom.
With a deep breath, Goldie forced the last of her tears to fall, clearing her vision. Lifting her gaze, her focus came to rest upon not only the massive butler with the shock of white hair and the wrinkled brow, but Edmund. His face was alive with excitement.
Mother turned toward the young lord and dipped her knee. “Lord Behr.”
“Mrs. Locksley, you’re looking rather peaked. Can Lewis offer you a bit of sherry?”
“No thank you, my lord,” she said, the shake of her head sending the small silver curls that framed her face into a frenzy of bounces.
“Mrs. Locksley, I insist.” He pointed toward the room that they had recently vacated. “Lewis, take the lady back to the study for a small drink. You’re meeting my father for the first time.” He directed a kindly smile toward her mother. “Best to steel your nerves for the encounter.”
“Oh, well…” Mother mumbled but allowed herself to be led away.
Once the pair was safely ensconced in the study, Edmund pulled Goldie into the entryway, his expression one of mischief.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her mood rising along with her suspicions, for surely the news must be good if he grinned like a cat with a mouth full of feathers.
“Telling you to accept my father’s proposal.” He offered her his handkerchief, and she accepted, wiping her eyes.
“What proposal? Oh, God, Joseph isn’t in town, is he? I don’t want to marry him.”
He grinned, those clear blue eyes sparkling, humor alive on his lips. “You are to marry me.”
Shock had her head reeling, and now she, too, needed some sherry. “I beg your pardon?”
“Father wishes for you and I to wed.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand coming to rest upon her breast. “And you’ve agreed to this?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Yes. But the question is, will you?”
“I’m very fond of you, Edmund…”
If possible, his smile grew wider. “I’m very fond of you, too, and that is why you must accept this proposal and insist on a fine wedding.”
“Edmund…”
He placed the tip of his index finger over her lips. “It is necessary to buy time until William gets back from Dumbarton.”
She felt the nervous coil in her stomach relax at the mention of William’s name. “Dumbarton?”
“Yes, he’s gone to tell his fiancée that he is marrying someone else.”
Again the tears flowed, but they were not tears of sorrow. “Me?”
“Yes, you, silly. And if we insist upon a large wedding, when you finally meet your groom at the altar, it will be William and not me.”
“You would do that for me?”
“For you and for William.”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her joy overwhelming her. “Thank you.”
“’Tis not done yet,” he murmured in her ear. “Now put that gloomy face back on and play the game.”
“How will I ever be able to thank you?”
He chuckled. “Name your first son Edmund and teach him to play chess.”
Chapter 8
Joseph looked over his shoulder. Was he being followed? Seeing no one behind him in the narrow alley, he rushed past the public house and toward Naomi’s ramshackle home.
“Damn you, Father, for driving me to this.” Yet, he bitterly acknowledged his own action or, rather, inaction was to blame. If only he’d just defied his father and married her. But how could he know that she would touch him so deeply? He wasn’t prepared for the addiction of true and honest feelings. He wasn’t about to call it love, but he did yearn for the golden witch.
He spied Naomi sitting on her front porch, her skirt hiked up to her knees, her pale legs a stark white against the dimness of dusk. He raised his hand in greeting and jogged toward her.
“Why, my lord, I didn’t expect to see you again.” She looked him up and down. “I took you for the sort to fuck a girl and not pay for the privilege.”
Joseph frowned and pulled a pouch from his pocket, the coins jingling as he tossed it to her. “There’s enough there for two gowns, the gloves you wanted, and a bonnet.”
She shifted the pouch from one hand to the other as if gauging the amount without counting. With a coy smile, she stood, the skirt of her tatty green gown unfolding to its full length. The hem was so worn that the barmaid couldn’t possibly have enough thread to mend it.
“So, Naomi was good enough that you had to come back for more?”
His gut tightened when she stepped down from the porch and gazed up at him. Rising on her tiptoes, she placed her lips atop his, her kiss deep and full of her desire—her desire for more money, no doubt.
Still, she had offered him release before, and they had gotten on quite well. So, why was it his prick didn’t respond to her curvaceous and willing body? But without thought, he knew the answer.
Goldie.
He had tasted the world’s finest champagne. And looking at Naomi, with her greasy hair, lack-luster eyes, and thin-lipped smile, he realized he would never be able to stomach swill again.
He shoved her back, and she stumbled. “What’d you do that for?” she protested, her voice echoing against the empty street.
“I don’t want you,” he spat. “I need a place to stay, and I need you to keep your loose lips closed tight.”
“Why not stay at the estate?” she asked, crossing her arms over her large bosom. “I reckon you’re here for the wedding.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled. The idea of Edmund marrying his Goldie had the bile rising in your throat. “So, do we have a deal?”
She lifted an auburn brow. “Well, my lord, we might, but it’s going to cost you a bit more than I have in my hands.”
/> * * * *
Goldie lay back in the tub, the warm water a comfort to her tired body. With the small engagement party behind her, she determined to relax, even if it was only for the length of time it took the water to cool.
Yet despite the warm, dozy feeling the bath allowed her body, her mind was alive with the memory of the party. The blur of so many faces, so many questions, so much chitchat. How the guilt of being a liar poked at her conscience with every story she and Edmund told.
“Stop it,” she mumbled to herself. There would be time to worry about the consequences later. Right now, she needed to relax. The wedding was in three days, and if William didn’t get back soon, the consequence would be marriage to Edmund.
She chuckled at the idea. Edmund was more of a friend than a lover. No hint of attraction, no chemistry beyond their mutual love of poetry and fashion. Still, marriage to Edmund was far more desirable then returning to Joseph’s bed. For although his rough sexual practices had her body betraying her, she knew what lovemaking could be when both parties gave all they had to satisfy the other. Sex became magical when a man touched a woman with true emotion and desire.
She closed her eyes, the lids burning with her fatigue. Sleep had evaded her since she agreed to the marriage. Worry kept her awake. What if William didn’t come back? What if Joseph did?
At the squeak of the dressing room door, her heart beat madly against her ribs. Who would be so bold as to enter the room where she bathed? Who? Only one man came to mind. Joseph.
“Goldie?”
Joy rapidly replaced fear. William’s voice echoed through the room, and without thought of modesty, she rose from the tub and opened her arms.
“You made it back.”
He wasted but a moment to ogle her with hungry eyes before rushing to her side and wrapping her in his arms.
“You take my breath away,” he murmured against her ear.
Oh my, he felt good, smelled good, and when he crushed his lips to hers, tasted good. He slipped his tongue between her teeth, and she savored the feel as he dipped and swirled her into a world without fear or sorrow or worry.
Pulling away, she recognized the yearning in his expression, the gaze so intense her own desire flared in the deepest recesses of her abdomen. “Let’s go get married, Goldie. Now.”
She buried her face in his neck. “No, not yet,” she whispered. “Take me to bed. Make love to me, William. I have missed you so.”
He let out groan that reverberated against her very soul. It was filled with forceful need. “You make me forget myself, woman. I know better than to tempt fate, and yet I cannot resist.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her into her chamber.
The small room glowed with warmth from the fireplace and candles. The bedding seemed cold against her wet, naked flesh. She watched in raptured awe as he undressed.
His broad chest shimmered warm in the flickering light, his muscles flexing as he unfastened his trousers. Freeing his cock, he ran his hand along the hardened shaft.
“Come to me,” she whispered, her mouth watering at the sight before her. He was perfection incarnate. The most beautiful man she had ever seen. If only he had been her first.
With a wicked grin, he obeyed, his breath catching in his throat as she fondled his prick. Without hesitation, she took him into her mouth. She gingerly sucked the head of his swollen cock and was rewarded with his pleasured moan. Moving back and forth, she took as much of his length into her mouth as she could, the warm, musky scent and flavor of him urging her to continue his pleasure. For hadn’t he put her first at the cottage? Hadn’t he put her first, before his brothers, his father, his fiancée?
She stopped. What was she doing to him? Had his feelings for her destroyed him just as Joseph’s desire for her had very nearly destroyed her? Dear God, no. She couldn’t be responsible. Tears slid from her eyes.
“Oh, William,” she cried out. “I can’t let you marry me.”
He fell to his knees before her, his mouth agape, his dark brow raised in question. “Let me marry you? It’s my pleasure to marry you.”
“But I’m stealing you from your family. I’ve ruined all your plans.” She stroked his cheek with her hand. His skin was feverishly warm. “I don’t want to be something you regret.”
“Where would you get the notion that you’re ruining anything?” he asked, his tone compassionate, his eyes so full of emotion that they touched her heart. “I am saddled by my father’s ridiculous expectations. Burdened and disappointed by Joseph. Edmund is the only true brother I have. He has championed our affection, Goldie.”
“But your inheritance. Will your father not disinherit you?”
“I would work in the fields as long as I got to wake up to those blue eyes every morn.”
Her tears spilled down her cheeks, and he caught them in the palms of his hands. “But, William, you aren’t meant for that sort of life.”
“I said I would work in fields.” The smile that touched his mouth had her forgetting her obligation to push him away. She traced the outline of his lips with her fingertip. “I’m a damned good businessman in my own right. I have enough money to take care of you and anyone else who joins our family.”
“Our family?”
“Yes, sweet. I want to share everything with you. My life is in your hands. I knew it the first moment our gazes met on May Day. Joseph’s intentions drove me to the brink. I don’t want to live my life without you.”
“How do you know I’m worth it?”
“My heart knows. My soul.” He brought her hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “Please, marry me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lay her down atop the bed, his warm flesh pressed to her hers, their bodies two halves of a whole. He made her feel safe and loved.
“William, how can I say no?”
“Then don’t.” He kissed her again, the action so full of promise, there was no denying him anything. Not her body, not her heart. Her future was his. She would do anything he asked, gladly.
Her hands traveled down the smooth contours of his back. The muscles rippled beneath her touch. He was perfect for her, and she understood what he meant, for her life now lay in his hands.
Moisture flooded from her cunt, and she parted her legs, eager to finally give herself to him. “I love you, William,” she mumbled against his lips, and he smiled down upon her.
“I love you.” He buried his face in her neck, the stubble for want of a razor scratchy against the tender skin. The wondrous heat from his breath raised a delightful chill across her aroused body.
Rising on his elbow, he stared down at her, the fierce passion in his expression taking her breath away. He was a starving animal and she, his willing prey.
He moved deliberately lower, his hands cupping her naked breasts, his thumbs swirling the nipples until they peaked. She stifled a plea, and he drew a nipple deep into his mouth, devouring the sensitive bead and sending currents of need coursing through every cell she possessed. No part of her was left unexplored by his fingers and tongue. She writhed beneath him as he erased Joseph from her flesh.
Feral moans echoed through the deepest recesses of her core, his mouth seemingly setting her on fire with each swirl, each stroke. He spread her legs apart and, looking up at her, buried his face within the moist folds of her pussy. He nibbled her sensitive nub with such precision her orgasm had her bucking beneath him as she called out his name. Still he didn’t stop. He dipped the tip of his tongue into her sheath, his fingers kneading the flesh of her buttocks. She spread her legs ever wider.
“Take me, William. Hurry. I want you.”
He chuckled and crawled up the length of her body, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Take me into your mouth again.”
She bit her lower lip, and once he lay with his head on her pillow, she turned her back to him and straddled his chest.
“You’ve a beautiful backside,” he mumbled, taking her ass in his hands as she bent forward and took
cock into her mouth. As she pleased him, his finger probed her sex. He pressed the long digits in and out as she ran her tongue over the plum-sized head of his prick. His moans of pleasure urged her on.
She felt him shift, the tight muscles of his abdomen flex. His mouth once again tasted her, his tongue replacing his hands. More moisture seeped from her. If he didn’t take her soon, she would implode.
She took him fully into her mouth and moved her head back and forth, sucking as hard as she could, eager to please him as he pleased her.
“Stop,” he panted, “or I’m going to come, and I’m not quite ready to do that.”
She obeyed and turned to face him, her legs still straddling him as she gazed down at her lover. With his hands on her waist, he lifted her up and slid her down, down atop his thick cock. She gasped at the perfection of the fit, the ease with which her body accepted him. No pain, no discomfort. Nothing but sheer delight.
Her body began to twitch, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on the delightful pressure that filled her. His hands still on her waist, he guided her in a slow up-and-down motion, a motion that had the walls of her sheath quivering with pent-up ardor. Setting her feet flat on the bed, she bounced up and down atop his prick, each swift movement marching her toward the release she knew would come if she just kept her rhythm, kept on demanding pleasure. More of him. She wanted more. Needed everything.
Small sobs popped from her lips as she crashed into him. His moans joined hers, and the grip of his fingers grew tighter.
In one sudden and swift motion, he rolled her onto her back, his breaths coming in harsh gasps. “Goldie, you drive me mad.”
With her knees resting at his waist, he forced his length deeply into her sex, his mouth pressed to hers as he commanded everything she had. She complied, raising her hips to meet his powerful thrusts. Delicious thrusts had her groaning and grasping at his buttocks. Her lips tingled, her body flexed as her pussy grew tighter.
She floated higher and higher, gasping for breath, wanting him to hurry but never wanting him to stop. “William,” she cried out as she was swept up in a current of passion. Her cunt sent her over an unseen edge and tumbling toward ecstasy. Over and over her muscles contracted until the world turned only for them.
