by Wendy Vella
Essie was here, inside his house. Suddenly his head felt clearer, and he wanted to see her with a desperation that took his breath away.
“Just Miss Sinclair, George?”
His butler nodded.
“Excellent. See that no one disturbs us, please. Miss Essex and I have some procedures to discuss for the boys.”
It was true, Max convinced himself as he walked rapidly to the stairs. Whatever Essie had given Silver had eased his headaches, and Peter was much better, and his breathing seemed calmer. In fact, Max had wondered if Essie would consider running a clinic from his warehouse while she was in London. This was a great time to discuss it. The fact that his life had just turned on its head did not matter. What mattered was that she was here, alone, in his house.
Max ran down the stairs so fast he tripped on the last, and only just managed to stop himself falling on his face.
When he’d seen her at the park, the need to take her in his arms had consumed him... she consumed him. He’d seen her bruises and wanted to kiss each one. How could one woman have created so much havoc inside him? He had just found out he was the bastard son of a duke, and right here and now, that took second place to the woman he knew was on the other side of that door.
Clenching the handle, he turned it, and walked inside the conservatory. Sun showered through the glass, creating shadows and burnishing plants. Looking around, he could not see Essie, but he could hear her. She was humming. Soft and off-key, it made him smile. Walking down the first row, he looked for her in the foliage, but when that failed he headed up the second row, and then down the third. He found her on her knees grubbing about in the dirt.
Why did he feel suddenly like smiling when his life was in turmoil? He had no rights to this woman, she could never be his, but he wanted her with everything inside him. Ached for her.
“Essie.” Her name came out as a plea.
She turned, eyes wide. “Max.” He watched her lips whisper his name. “I’m sorry, I had thought to be gone before you returned, I—”
“No.” He reached her in two strides. “I don’t want you to go.” He lifted her to her feet and settled her before him, close enough that he could smell her. Herbs, perfume, and Essie, the woman who intoxicated him.
“Max, are you all right?”
His hands held her hips, and slowly he pulled her closer until her breasts touched his chest, until he could see that her breathing was suddenly as rapid as his.
“Essie.” He cupped her bruised cheek gently. “I can’t stay away from you.”
She closed her eyes, and he leaned in to kiss the damaged skin on her face. “I feared for you that day,” he whispered. “When your hand slipped from mine, I have never known such terror.”
“For me also.”
Max saw the truth in her eyes. Closing his briefly, he gave up the fight. When he opened them, he took her lips in a deep kiss. Where he had touched her face with reverence, this was fierce. The need inside him demanded it, no matter that she was a lady, a sweet, gentle lady.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips. “You are hurting, I had no right—”
“No.” Her hands were in his hair, and he felt a tug of pain as she pulled. “Don’t be gentle, I won’t break. I need this.” She rose to her toes and kissed him. “Have ached for this since that night at Oak’s Knoll.”
He kissed her again, drugging kisses that had no end or beginning. His hand moved down her back, tracing the knuckles of her spine to the lovely curves beneath. He cupped the swells, caressing and mapping the woman who had driven him insensible with need since that night he had taken her innocence.
“Essie.” He breathed her name into the sweet skin of her neck. She arched, and he took what she offered. He unbuttoned her spencer and pushed it from her shoulders.
“Every time I got close enough to breathe in your scent, I was reminded of that night we made love. I smelled your gardens on you, the heat of your skin, the taste of nature. You intoxicated me.”
She moaned as he kissed the tops of her breasts above her bodice. How could something so right, be wrong, Max reasoned as he searched for the buttons of her dress. Finding them marching down her spine, he released them, and then kissed each exposed piece of skin as he eased the garment from her body.
“I-I tried to push this aside, tried to forget what you made me feel, Max.”
Max gripped the edges of her chemise and lifted it up her body and over her head.
“But like me, you couldn’t.” He cupped her cheeks, looking deep into her lovely eyes. “And every time we saw each other, the tension grew.”
“Yes.”
He let his eyes trail over every lush inch of her, stopping when he saw the bruises.
“I’m sorry I could not have stopped this happening.”
“I am well, Max. Nothing is broken, the bruises will fade.” She cupped his cheek and he felt himself leaning into her hand.
“Seeing you in pain was almost more than I could bear, Essie.”
“But the pain was less, because you rescued me, as I knew you would.”
He lost himself in her eyes. “You knew I would come for you?”
“Oh yes, that I never doubted.”
He kissed her, and it was steeped with emotion. Emotion so foreign to him he struggled to identify it. Her hands worked his buttons free, and then she was pushing his shirt from his shoulders. He tried to stop her; knew in what was left of his resistance that he had to try.
“Your back is part of you and what you endured to become the man who stands before me today, Max. When I look at it, I see survival and strength. I hate that you suffered at the hands of some monster, but it does not change the way I feel about you. The way my heart beats harder when you are near, or how I find myself smiling when I think of what we have shared.”
“I-I don’t like people to see it.” He felt vulnerable suddenly, as if she had stripped away his defenses and exposed emotions he had believed himself incapable of feeling.
She moved around him. “Let me touch you, Max.”
He tensed as her lips touched his abused skin. He was sensitive there; each brush of her lips made him shudder, each soft touch of her fingers had the breath hissing from his lips.
“Essie.”
“It’s all right, Max.” She reached around him and rested a hand on his heart. The gesture shocked him because it felt so right.
She kissed every inch of his tortured skin. Explored every welt until he no longer felt horror at what she saw, but was consumed with hunger for this woman. His body was aroused to the point of pain. Lust pumped through him.
“I cannot wait.” His words were ragged.
“Then don’t.”
Essie was on fire, her body ignited by the man who held her. When he swung her up and into his arms, she wrapped hers around his neck and pressed kisses to his shoulders. She would not think of after, or even before. This was for now, for her and Max and the need that burned inside them.
She yelped as he lowered her onto the stone ledge. “It’s cold.”
He swallowed her words with another savage kiss, and then her breasts were in his hands, his thumbs strumming her nipples until her thoughts once again centered only on him. She slipped her fingers into his hair and held on as he drew a nipple deep into his mouth.
“Lord, Max,” she moaned at the wonderful sensations.
He kissed each breast, tortured each nipple until she was panting. Only then did he moved lower and kiss the dew-drenched petals between her thighs. She felt the pressure inside her build until she was begging him for release. He rose and unbuttoned his trousers. She shivered in anticipation as he stepped between her thighs. Slowly he eased inside her, stretching the silken tissues until he filled her completely.
“Look at me.”
She opened her eyes and saw the fire blazing in the tawny depths. Fire that she had lit.
“I have never felt this way before,” he whispered. “Never needed someone as I do you.�
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Her lashes fluttered as he withdrew and thrust back inside.
“See what I feel for you, Essie.”
“I see it.”
He shuddered as she wrapped her legs around him, holding him deep inside her.
“I feel it too, Max. I have tried to fight it, but it consumes me.” She touched his lips, let him take a finger into his mouth as he started to move his hips in and out of her. “I love you,” she breathed, arching into him. The words ignited him as he drove into her again and again.
“Tell me again,” he demanded.
“I love you!” she cried as she reached the pinnacle. Seconds later he joined her. They crested together as she held him close, both shuddering with the power of their release.
Breathless, Essie rested her head on his shoulder, and he hers. They sucked in mouthfuls of air until finally they calmed. Only then did he lift her back into his arms and move to the bench seat, where he lowered her onto his lap.
“I have never been loved before.”
Her heart ached at the words.
“Will you accept it from me?” Essie looked at him, tried to read his thoughts.
“I will, if you will accept mine in return.”
“Oh, Max, how could I not.” She smiled up at him and wondered if there had ever before been a time in her life when she felt complete, as if all the pieces of her life had finally fallen in place.
“I was apprenticed on a ship at ten. The captain was a violent man. He beat me the very first night, and many thereafter.”
“You must have been so scared.” Essie rested her hand on his heart as she felt the sting of anger. “I hope this man has paid for his actions in many different ways.” He had been so young to have his innocence ripped away.
Her words surprised a snort from him.
“What?”
“I thought you would weep for me, but I much prefer your anger, my sweet.”
“I don’t weep a great deal, unless it can’t be helped.”
He touched her lips, tracing each with a finger and his eyes.
“He thought to break me, but I would not be broken.”
“I have heard of men like this... men who would hurt boys.”
“No, love, he did not do that to me, and he told me the reason was because I was ugly. So my face saved me. But he did that to other boys, and I could do nothing to stop him until I was older and stronger.”
“Tell me you hurt him as he did you and the other boys. Tell me you made him pay, Max.”
“Bloodthirsty wench, aren’t you?” He kissed her again.
“Tell me what you did to him when you were stronger?” Essie urged him.
“I saw him drag Edward into his cabin, and unlike me, Edward was a small, weak boy with a pretty face. He was an easy target for such a man. So I broke his door down and fought him. I then dragged him up on deck and threw him overboard in front of the crew. We were miles from land, and I knew he would be eaten by sharks or drowned.”
“A fitting end, then.”
“I thought so, but now I wonder if it is not he who is attempting to kill me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Max looked down at the woman in his arms. He saw only anger on his behalf, no pity. She looked tousled and thoroughly loved. Loved by him. He tested the words and found he liked them. She was his now, and he was never letting her go.
“What is this man’s name?”
“Captain Rutley, and I have told Mr. Spriggot to locate him, so if he is alive, he will find him. I’m sure of that.”
She nodded, and a long curl fell over her bare breasts. Max picked it up and tested the texture, running the strand between his fingers.
“He was very good at tracking down Mr. Tolly.”
“Miss Tolly’s brother?”
“Yes, the man I once believed I loved.”
“Tell me what happened?”
She did, and he hated that another had held her heart, even briefly.
“So your sister nearly died, but you and your family saved her, as you did Samantha?”
She looked away, but Max wasn’t having that, and pushed her chin up so their eyes met.
“What are you hiding from me?”
“I’m scared to tell you,” she whispered.
“Nothing you can tell me will make me feel any differently about you, Essex. Surely you know that now. Surely you know I love you.”
“The secret is not just mine to tell you, Max.”
“It is a family secret?”
She nodded. “I-I need to ask permission to tell you.”
“Very well. Tomorrow I will call on your brother and ask for your hand in marriage, and I would like you to tell me then.”
“Shouldn’t you ask me before my brother?”
He looked down at her, this woman who entranced him. “Will you marry me, my love? Will you teach me about this love I feel for you? Teach me how to share my life with another?”
“Yes, oh, Max. Yes, I will marry you.”
“Excellent, then I shall call on your brother tomorrow and then we shall talk, you and I.”
“Max—”
He touched her lips with a finger. “I love you, never forget that. Whatever this is, it will not change that.”
She nodded, and he lost himself in her lips and body once more.
“Tomorrow, my love. I will call, and then we will talk.”
“You could come with me now. Dev will likely be home.”
“No, I want to plan some things. I need to have everything in order when I call.”
She nodded.
“I love you, Max.”
“I have no right to love you, or expect you to spend your life with me, but I do... and we will.” He whispered the words against her lips. “You are now mine, as I am yours.”
“Yes.”
They dressed, and then he walked her to his front door.
“George!”
“Why are you calling your butler?”
“He will walk you home, as if I did, your brothers would have questions, and I am not ready to speak with them until tomorrow.”
“But I can walk on my own.”
“But you will not. I will not be an easy husband, love, but I will be a constant one. Never doubt my love for you.”
Her smile was blinding.
“My brothers are not easy men, so you shall not present too much of a challenge.” She then gave him a cheeky smile and stepped outside. He stood and watched her until she reached her house. Only then did he go inside, with a ridiculously wide smile on his face.
Max retired early that night, eager to rise and go to Essie. He was not sure how he would be received by her brother, but he supposed at least now he had a duke on his side, and yes, in his lineage. A bastard, yes, but a noble one. He could still not take the news in.
Lying in the dark, he let thoughts come and go of the future that now seemed suddenly bright.
He woke to darkness, and the feel of a blade pressed to his throat.
“Hello, Max.”
The guttural words could be from no other man.
“Rutley.”
Max sat up as the pressure on his throat eased.
“You’ve done well for yourself, boy. It seemed everything I taught you, you have benefitted from.”
“You taught me nothing.” Max controlled the anger inside him. The childhood fear was there too, but he was a man now, and this beast could no longer hurt him.
Behind Rutley, two men stepped forward. One held a candle, the other a pistol.
“Hand him the paper and ink.”
“It’s really not the time for letter writing, Rutley. If you are struggling, may I suggest another person could help you.”
He took a moment, but eventually the insult was understood.
“I can read and write, you bastard!”
“Indeed I am, and not just any bastard, but the son of a duke, it seems.”
“So you found that out, did you? I wondered how long it
would take you.” Rutley had lost what little hair he had, and several more teeth. He looked old and pathetic. Max wondered how he had allowed fear of the man to reign over him for so long.
“I wrote to him that I had his bastard son, and if he wanted to see you again, he’d better pay. The duke never replied.”
“And that was why you tormented me. Because I was the son of a duke,” Max realized.
“You were a sniveling rodent, and deserved a heavy hand. A whelp, raised at your mother’s side!”
“Hardly that,” Max said. “My mother loathed the sight of me, which is why she sold me to you.”
Rutley stepped forward, waving the blade in front of Max’s face. “Yes, she told me that when I bedded her for your fare on my boat.”
“So it was she who told you I was the duke’s son?” He was sure that should have hurt him more, but as he cared little for his mother, it did not.
“And now I’m making you pay for what you did to me!” Rutley hissed.
Max yawned. “I do not fear death, so have done with it.” But he did fear it now, desperately. He had Essie and a future for the first time in his life. A future he wanted with every part of his being.
“I want some money. Where is it kept?”
Max pointed to a desk in the corner of his room. “There is plenty in there. Take it and leave before I kill you… again.”
“Not this time,” Rutley said. “Now write down what I tell you.”
“I think not.” Max rested his hands behind his head, but tensed as a cunning look came into Rutley’s eyes.
“Write what I tell you or, I will go through this house and gut every servant in the place.”
Tamping down his rage, he did as he was asked.
“Time for a sleep.”
He fought the hands that pressed the cloth to his face, but there were too many. His last thoughts were for the woman he loved.
“How is Bids family, Essie?”
“Mother and baby are doing well,” Essie said in answer to Dev’s question. The toast she was nibbling on tasted like ashes in her mouth. “The father, however, is still a little shaky.”
Last night Essie had delivered Bids baby boy, and while the moment had been joyful, as it always was, she had found little joy in anything since.
