A Dream of Redemption

by Bronwen Evans

  The intimacy of the moment bonded them in a way that nothing else could.

  Soon she was fighting to keep her wits about her. When he suckled the hardened nub of her womanhood, her eyes rolled back into her head and it was almost too much. Her hands left his hair and gripped the sheets, her hips lifting in time to his magical tongue. A force was building deep inside her trying to burst forth.

  His tongue entered her and she felt her body react, felt an ache blossom between her thighs. She was gripped by a roiling unnameable need, hot, yearning, and almost out of her reach.

  His mouth worked faster, delved deeper, suckled harder, and her hips bucked, her neck straining as she moved on the sheets, her body no longer under her control, overwhelmed by the sensations bombarding her.

  Just when she thought she could take no more, he eased off, let her get her breath again. She pried her eyes open and looked down her body to where his dark head lay between her thighs, worshipping her body. She’d never seen anything so erotic, and her body grew restless wanting more.

  He kept her on a knife’s edge, repeating his ministrations until she was almost crying with the need to…she wasn’t sure what her body sought but she knew she wanted something that would set her free. He turned his full attentions on her once more; a finger entered her and she almost came up off the bed.

  A second finger followed and his tongue began its teasing, sensual pursuit once more, his licks in time with his fingers until she writhed, sobbed, clung to her sanity as her fingers reached to tightly clutch his head again. She cried out, seeking the ecstasy his attentions promised.

  Everything was spinning. She sobbed his name. Her hips moving, seeking, wanting…Then, finally when she thought she might faint from the sensations pounding through her body, she shattered, his name screaming from her lips, her thighs clamping round his shoulders as she grabbed the white heat of release.

  Helen sunk into the luxury of bliss, knowing nothing but the incredible pleasure Clary had given her. Through her closed eyelids she sensed him watching her as he tenderly caressed her stomach with one hand. Her legs relaxed from where they gripped his shoulders and fell to the bed. The feelings sweeping her impaled her heart. She could never imagine doing this with anyone other than Clary.

  She opened her eyes to find him as always watching her. She smiled at him and reached for his hand. They entwined their fingers and a glow of satisfaction and tenderness hit. Fate had led her to her soulmate. She’d never been so sure of anything.

  Floating on the euphoria of pleasure she trailed her fingers over his handsome face and stopped at his lips. “Thank you for showing me how wonderful pleasure can be.”

  He pressed a kiss to her palm. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  She frowned and moved to sit up. “But you have not received any pleasure.”

  “Oh I have. Watching you was enough.”

  “Teach me—show me, how I can pleasure you. Can I do to you what you did to me?”

  His eyes flared with heat. “Yes,” he croaked out. “But there is no need.”

  She rose to her knees and gently pushed him back on the bed. “Oh, I think need is most definitely the order of the day—both for you and for me. I suspect giving you pleasure will enthrall me too.”

  * * *

  —

  Clary couldn’t think. She rose above him like Venus herself. The offer of what she wanted to do to him saw his common sense flee. The idea of those luscious lips wrapped round his cock made him harden further and his erection jumped free of his breeches.

  Her eyes drank in the sight of him and he saw them widen in curiosity and, to his surprise, lust. He recognized the look. She reached for him then, and he gritted his teeth as her small hand wrapped tightly around his pulsating shaft. She looked at him expectantly. His hand rose to cover hers so he could show her what to do. When their hands touched, a flash of emotion consumed him and his heart swelled in his chest. Why did this feel so right when he knew it was so wrong?

  She knew nothing about his past but he pushed the horrid shame aside, selfishly wanting her with every fiber of his being. Perhaps her innocent touch would wash his sins clean away.

  She soon was not content with working his shaft. Her other hand went exploring, pushing his breeches to his knees, baring his taut sac to her gaze and touch. She cupped and fondled it and soon he could not stop a moan of need from slipping between his lips.

  She spied the liquid that eased from the tip of his penis, and immediately she dipped her head and licked. Now it was his turn to grip the sheets while her tongue began to explore the hard length of him. He would not last long under her innocent exploring.

  She grew bold. Her eyes met his and she smiled as she slipped her hot, wet mouth over the head of his erection and suckled. His back arched off the bed and he moaned, his breathing becoming ragged.

  He could not tear his gaze from the erotic sight of her pleasuring him with her mouth. Soon the wave of euphoria swept in and he couldn’t help but lift his hips, driving deeper into her mouth as he sought the crest of the wave. He was going to climax…He pulled her off him, gripped his shaft, and with hips jerking, his seed shot into his hand. He collapsed back on his bed unable to utter a single word.

  Helen lay down beside him and pressed kisses to his bare shoulders and his arm came around to pull her close. They lay there simply soaking in each other. Her nakedness pressed to his side while his breeches still tangled at his knees.

  He knew he should be horsewhipped. He wondered if he’d let this happen in order to erase the shame and humiliation. Meeting Fairfax in the park today…Clary repressed a shudder. He’d wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He’d wanted to put his hands around Fairfax’s neck and squeeze and squeeze. But he hadn’t. As usual he was unable to fight back. If he had, the only one who’d lose would be him.

  Clary was not stupid. A man like him attacking a peer…He wouldn’t let pride stand in the way of survival. He had not endured so much to throw it all away on a revenge that would not make his past any more palatable.

  Whenever the past came back to haunt his nightmares, he sought out the touch and softness of a woman. He always wanted sex with a woman when memories of his abuse surfaced. Had he taken advantage of what Helen offered just to ease his pain?

  He swallowed hard, pushing away the degrading memories of Fairfax’s mouth on him.

  No. He had wanted her for more than just her goodness. She stirred him and made him believe that he was a better man than he was.

  He reached for Helen, breathing deep, filling his lungs with her feminine scent. Now he had more to feel guilty about. She was not someone he could simply use. She demanded more from him. Demanded his affections and he’d been so badly hurt by anyone he’d chosen to love that he didn’t know if he could open his heart to her.

  His gaze drifted possessively over her. Oh, how he wished she were not a well-bred lady or perhaps he wished for the millionth time he’d been born a lord. Then he could smite Fairfax down and destroy those who haunted him from his past. Clary’s mood was dark. He wanted her gone before he did something he’d regret, like sinking between her soft, eager thighs.

  “We should get dressed. Your coach has been too long in the street, and you’ve had more than enough time to see to my wound.”

  She sighed against his chest, her breath hot and sensual. He thought it ironic that she was the first woman he wanted to keep in his bed forever, but the only woman who would remain a dream.

  “Next time I shall bring an unmarked carriage.”

  He stiffened at her words. “There will not be a next time. This can’t happen again.”

  She pushed up and heat flared in his groin as he took in her bountiful breasts.

  “Why not?”

  He moved then and drew up his trousers. He reached for a new shirt, wishing she would cover her nakedness before all his reasoning fled.

  “You saw what happened in the park.”

  Rather than dressing
as he hoped she would, she rolled onto her stomach, her chin resting in her hands, legs scissoring behind her, and his eyes immediately took in her pert bottom.

  “Lord Fairfax was merely miffed because I told him off at a ball the other night.”

  He blinked at her and almost laughed. “You’re wrong. Lord Fairfax is a man from my past. That altercation had nothing to do with your ball.”

  She sat up then. “Your past?”

  He sunk down at the end of the bed, forcing his hands to his side so that he would not reach out and touch her. “I have a pretty sordid past, one that I am ashamed of, and it was only a matter of time before my past came calling. I will not drag you into it.”

  “I don’t care about your past.”

  His smile died. “You should, a lady of your social standing would be ruined. It would drag you under to a world that you cannot imagine living in.”

  She moved toward him on the bed, her breasts bouncing as she walked on her knees. She reached out and took his hand, placing it over her heart. “I don’t care about your past. Marisa obviously doesn’t. She lets you into her home, lets you play with her children, lets you oversee the orphans, children she cares deeply about. You can’t be a bad person if she and Maitland allow you into their home.”

  He could feel her heart’s steady rhythm. Would she think as her sister did if she knew what he’d once been, what he’d once done to survive? Would her heart still beat for him then?

  “I’m not a bad person, but I’ve done—unconscionable things.” He held his hand up to stop her protests. “I don’t want to be a passing fancy of yours. However, to be anything else would mean the end to your life as you know it. No more balls, no longer accepted by society. People would look down on you. I don’t think you really understand what you would be giving up.”

  Finally he began to see doubt cloud her eyes. “Are you saying that your past would never make you acceptable to society?”

  “Never. I am a man who doesn’t know who his father is or even if my mother was married when she had us. I will never be able to accompany you to a ball. Never be accepted into your friends’ houses. You would be ostracized.”

  She sat thinking for a moment before declaring, “I don’t care. I don’t need balls and society. I want only you.”

  He sighed and moved to stare out his bedchamber window into his sunny but small garden. “I tell you what. When you tell your brother about us, and he lets me into his presence to ask to officially court you, then I will do so. Until then we remain colleagues working on behalf of the children.”

  He watched her face fall and she bit her bottom lip. She looked so beautiful sitting on his bed completely relaxed about the fact she was naked except for her silk stockings. Desire stirred and he had to clench his fists to stop from dropping to his knees and pledging that she could have him whatever way was possible.

  * * *

  —

  She wanted to pout and yell and scream that he was wrong. That together they could overcome anything, but when he mentioned her brother, she knew she was fooling herself. The idea of confessing her heart to Sebastian was not one she looked forward to. But she would do it. For Clary. For them. For her future.

  She got off the bed and reached for her gown and underthings. “I will speak with Sebastian.”

  Clary paused in helping her dress. “No. That is not what I meant. I thought you’d realize this is the end.”

  “My brother wants me to be happy. If he truly does, then that means seeing if we are compatible.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Besides, Marisa will help me, and I’m sure Beatrice will too.”

  “Before you speak to your brother will you promise to talk with Marisa? She knows everything about my past, and she will be able to convince you as to what is right.”

  * * *

  —

  He thought Marisa would warn her not to talk with her brother. He did not know Marisa as well as he thought. Helen was pretty sure her sister wouldn’t warn her off, but that did not mean her brother was going to be happy about her choice.

  She pulled her cloak tightly around her and covered her head with the bonnet that lay discarded on the floor. “It’s best if you do not accompany me up to the street.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Now you’re worried about being seen? I will not leave you on the street alone; it’s almost dark. Come, I will see you to your carriage.”

  Just before they went outside she stopped him. “Thank you for—well for sharing a piece of yourself with me. I will cherish this afternoon forever. I know the risk you take indulging me. I’m hoping that is a sign that when the time comes you’ll fight for me as I will fight for you.”

  He pulled her tightly against his chest. “Your happiness and safety mean I will do anything to protect you and your reputation.”

  She hugged him tightly understanding his words did not mean he saw a future with her. In all fairness the path to love between them would never run smooth. But she was determined it would run and there was a path.

  * * *

  —

  Clary didn’t waste any time showing Helen to her carriage and getting back inside before anyone saw her. It helped that the clouds had rolled in and the looming rain kept most off the street. Still, having her in his home had been a huge risk and could never be repeated.

  He’d no sooner closed the front door than he noticed a shadow in the hall.

  “I hope you know what you are doing, brother. I could not help but note whose carriage was around the corner as I walked home.”

  “I did not expect you home so early. Usually you are not home until well after dark.” Clary moved past his brother, Simon, into the sitting room and poured a brandy before flopping into the high-backed chair by the fire. He was worn out. His side hurt from his fall and emotionally he was drained. For a few hours this afternoon he’d had a slice of his dream. Trouble was he wanted more.

  Simon followed, pouring himself a drink and joining him by the fire. “Care to share with me what is going on with Lady Helen?”

  “Not really.”

  Clary studied his brother. They were so different in looks and personality. He was dark while Simon was fair. Simon was outgoing whereas he was more contained. That painful pang in his chest hit when he looked at his strong brother. Simon had overcome his past and refused to let it color his view on life or stop him reaching for his dream of a better life.

  Clary had failed Simon in so many ways. Over the past five years he’d tried to forge a closer relationship with his brother, but his guilt had built a wall that stopped them from having what Marisa and Helen shared. He’d let Simon be abused, and although Simon told him hundreds of times that Clary had kept them both alive, it did not absolve him.

  “So there is something going on then.”

  Clary cursed himself for falling into his brother’s clever trap but since Simon had begun working for Mr. Henley, he’d become virtually impossible to win an argument with.

  “Her ladyship—”

  “I’m pretty sure you are past the point of referring to her as her ladyship. The way you screamed her name—”

  “That’s enough,” he growled.

  Simon laughed then his humor died away. “I know you. You’re too honorable and too worried about losing the life you have carved from the ashes to risk a quick fumble with a lady of breeding.” He paused and took a drink. “That is what worries me. Every way I look at this it ends very badly for you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He thought on what Marisa had said to him. She’d basically given him permission to court her sister. But it had come with a warning. A warning he knew could destroy any chance he had of a dream life with Helen, but it could also destroy the life he’d built over the last five years and end Simon’s chances of rising above their past too. Simon was training under one of His Grace’s solicitors, Mr. Henley. If gossip started and His Grace overheard, his and Simon’s world would come crashing down.


  “What do you think Her Grace would say?” his brother asked.

  Clary looked at Simon and saw worry etched in his eyes. “She gave me her blessing, if you must know. She wants Helen to be happy.”

  He saw surprise run across Simon’s face and then the worry returned. “And His Grace? Or her brother?”

  Clary simply drunk the rest of his brandy.

  “I see. Well, we both know that obtaining your dream is not easy.”

  He looked at his little brother. “I swear I will not do anything to destroy your chance at a better life.”

  “So you are not going to pursue her then?” Clary could not reply. “If you are thinking of a relationship with Lady Helen, it affects me as well as you. Don’t make promises to me that you cannot keep. However, I don’t think His Grace would be vindictive enough to hurt me because of something you do.”

  They sat drinking in silence before Simon asked, “Are you sure of Lady Helen? You know the fickleness of wellborn ladies.”

  He remembered what Marisa had said: Helen wants fate to decide for her as fate decided for me. What a romantic notion that was. “I don’t think she knows what she wants.”

  “I disagree. She knows what she wants now—you. But what of the future? It’s easy to want something when you don’t have to give up anything in return. Publicly announcing a relationship…What do you think she’ll do when her ‘friends’ bring up your past? When society shuns her…”

  Clary’s past had come calling today in the shape of Lord Fairfax. He stood to refill his drink. “She doesn’t know about my past.”

  “Not well done of you, Clary. What sort of relationship can be built without truth?” He added, “Neither of us have anything to be ashamed of. We did what we needed to survive.”

  Clary had often wondered if he’d tried hard enough. Not when he was a boy, but when he was older. He could have left and found different work if he’d been on his own but surviving with Simon, a child of only seven? He sat back down. “I tried to tell her but she didn’t want to know. She said if Marisa let me into her home that was good enough for her. She insisted only our future mattered.”