"Why would you have to make up for it, Alec?"
She saw him swallow, heard the sound of it through the darkness of the room.
"I had to make up for it so my father would love me."
Sarah saw the tears come to his eyes again, and she held onto him, one hand squeezing his while the other worked its way into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer to her.
"What do you mean, Alec? Your father does love you."
Alec nodded, even as the tears held in his eyes.
"I had to make him laugh," he said, and realization spread through Sarah in a cold shiver.
"Alec, did you make your father laugh so he would love you?"
The words brought forward the image of Alec as a little boy, struggling everyday to make his father laugh because of some misguided idea that by making him laugh, his father would love him and forgive him for killing his mother.
"Yes," he said then, and his eyes closed as the tears ran down his cheeks.
Sarah stared at her husband, the ever ridiculous and jovial Alec Black who now cried in her arms.
So Sarah slapped him.
Alec's eyes flew open, perfectly clear of tears, and his mouth hung slightly open.
"Did you just hit me?" he asked.
Sarah nodded.
"I did, and I'm sorry, but you're being ridiculous, and I am not very good with this discussion thing yet, so I got your attention the only way I know how, which is to cause you physical harm."
Alec only stared at her, so she sat up again, leaning on an elbow to make sure he understood how serious she was.
"Alec, you cannot in any sense of the matter be responsible for killing your mother. You were a baby, and most likely, your mother did everything she could to make sure you lived. Did you ever think of that?"
Alec blinked, and she knew he hadn't.
"Your mother probably tried desperately to make sure you were born, and you have spent your entire life trying to make people love you by making them laugh because you feel some sort of guilt at her death?"
She paused.
"Alec Black, you are a complete idiot."
She finished with an exasperated sigh and let her words sink in. But Alec sat up much too quickly, drawing her with him.
"What are you saying?" he asked, holding onto her arm as he pulled her close to him.
Sarah shrugged under his grasp.
"You should talk to your father, Alec. He's the one that you've been trying to make love you. He would be the only one to tell you wether or not your efforts have been misguided."
Alec didn't say anything, so she plunged on.
"You had to talk to me, didn't you? To find out where we misunderstood one another. Why not speak with your father?"
Alec still did not speak, and Sarah pulled on the arm that held onto her.
"Alec? What are you thinking? I cannot read your mind."
"You think talking to my father about this is truly necessary?" he finally asked.
Sarah nodded.
"I loved you even without you making me laugh, so I think it is very important to speak with your father."
She laid a hand on his chest, felt the beat of his heart against her palm.
"There is a lot of guilt that you are carrying in here, Alec. Guilt that may be unfounded. Ask your father. Find out the truth."
Alec did not say anything. He simply gathered her into his arms and lay back against the pillows, her head falling to the space below his chin. She settled in, feeling the pulse of his heart beneath her ear.
"I will speak with him in the morning," she heard her husband say somewhere above her head.
She nodded.
"Hold me until then, Alec. Please."
"Always," he whispered, and she let sleep find her.
~
Dawn radiated its colors across the sky when Alec woke his wife with an ardent kiss, searing her lips with all of the desire he felt pent up inside him. His hands were slow and deliberate, moving across her with an intent so natural and basic that his mind focused on everything else. It focused on the taste of her lips, the sounds she made in her throat when he touched her just there, and the feel of her leg as it came to wrap around his.
He helped her from her nightgown, tossing the garment to the floor, as his hands savored the feel of her bare skin. He took a moment to just feel her, feel her supple and lush body move against his, length to length. The brush of her breasts along his chest, the sweep of her hands up his back, the pulse of her heartbeat against his lips as he nipped kisses down her throat.
For four years he had waited for this very moment. The moment when he could savor his wife, every last inch of her.
This was not about the carnal act itself. This was a learning thing, a desiring thing. It was something with weight and dimension that he could not begin to know or understand but that he looked forward to studying every day for the rest of his life and still not know the answers. This was Sarah, and she finally let him in, into her and into them. This was what they were as husband and wife. And although some priest had long ago spoken words that would unite them forever, it wasn't until this moment that Alec could attest to the fact that those words were spoken in truth. That now Sarah truly was his wife and he, her husband. Only now did they understand each other enough to become one.
His fingers skimmed the sensitive pocket at the back of her knees as his mouth captured her moan of pleasure, the vocalization of what his touch did to her. The sound of it drove him forward faster, made him dare to explore further. He traced the line of her thigh as it moved into the sensual curve of her hip.
He slipped a leg between hers and let his thigh come to rest at her apex, felt the heat that resonated there. She whimpered then, and he opened his eyes to watch her, to see the pleasure as if it were a physical thing that could be observed. She was stunning in her ecstasy. Her thick golden hair spread across the linen of the pillow, framing her delicate face. Her cheeks were flush with desire. The desire he had put there, and he leaned down to kiss her, to drive her closer to the edge.
He felt it when her hips began to move, when she began to rub herself against him. He broke the kiss to look down to the place where their bodies met, where her hips moved against him, grinding into his thigh. The sight of it sent a surge of lust through him so intense it took his breath away. He captured her mouth once more, pushing his tongue inside to taste her, to take all of her senses. He wanted her to know it was him, that it was Alec that made her feel this way.
But it wasn't enough. He had to know her completely. He had to make her feel all of him. Completely.
"Sarah," he coaxed her, watching her eyelids flutter open, her gaze settling on his. "I need you to tell me if I do something that you don't like or that frightens you," he said and watched her eyes grow into dark pools of desire.
"I just want you, Alec," she whispered, and he came to her.
His mouth closed on hers as his hands settled around her hips. He broke the kiss even as he flipped her over. She made a soft noise of surprise as she came to rest on her stomach. Alec knelt, taking in the beauty in the slant of her back. With a single fingertip, he traced the curve of it from the nape of her neck to the sensitive spot at the very verge of her buttocks. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his finger left her skin. He leaned down, licking gently where his finger had been. He felt her twitch, heard her attempt to cover the whimper his touch drew from her. She squirmed beneath him, and he grasped her hips, holding her still. And then he ran his tongue up the length of her spine. She pulled against him, and he knew the torture he caused her by holding her still. But feeling her vibrate beneath, hearing her aborted whimpers sent spikes of undulating desire through him.
His erection was hard, throbbing, and as he moved up the length of her, it came to rest in the nestle of her buttocks. He rubbed it against her, and this time she did not try to stop the moan that erupted in her throat.
"Alec, please," she whispered, but he only kissed
the nape of her neck, coiling her long golden hair in his hand as he moved it out of his way.
He suckled and nibbled, and she bucked underneath him. The movement had her rubbing against him, and now he was the one who moaned. The sensation shocked him, having never felt something so powerful, so demanding, so right. He settled between her legs, prodding ever so slightly at her apex. She made a noise, and before he knew what she was about, she came up on her knees.
"Please, Alec," she said, her voice thick with desire.
Her succulent cheeks came into his hands as she changed positions, and his throbbing shaft rested at her very core, flexing in the heat of her. He couldn't stop himself. He plunged into her from behind, his hands gripping her to go deeper, to fill her more fully. She cried out, and he felt her tight, hot sheath close around him. He went so incredibly deep that he worried he hurt her. But she started to move, her hips slamming against him as if to take him even deeper. He moved with her until her climax gripped him, pulsating in a wave of sheer pleasure as she collapsed into the pillows.
He heard her labored breathing, felt the last of her climax spasm around him, and he gritted his teeth to hold on. He wanted to watch her face when he came inside of her. He pulled out and carefully turned her over. Her skin was flush with want, and her mouth hung open as she tried to draw in air. He stayed that way for a moment, kneeling between her spread legs as he drank in the sight of her. Her slightly rounded stomach, her small, upright breasts, and her silky ivory thighs.
He ran his hands down her skin, watching the gooseflesh appear in the wake of his touch. Her legs fell further apart, spreading her center to him. His gaze riveted to the pink flesh of her intimate folds, unable to look away. They pulsed with the remains of her orgasm, and Alec bent, putting his lips to the soft skin.
Sarah cried out, her hands gripping the back of his head. He felt her nails find purchase, and he shivered as she drew her fingers along his scalp.
"Alec," she hissed, and he heard the utter lust in her voice.
So he slipped his tongue into her. She moaned, a sound so guttural and basic he would have looked up to make sure it was still his wife, but he couldn't have moved then if the fires of Hell burned at his feet. He sipped at her, stroking her with his tongue. He moved back, tracing the folds of her core, moving further still to bite at the delicate crease of her thigh. When his teeth connected with her skin, she reared up off the bed, her hands gripping his head so hard he thought his skull would shatter. But as soon as she sat up, she fell backwards, a weak moan slipping between her lips. When his mouth moved back to her most sensitive nub, he knew he would send her over the edge. Again.
Her next moan came from deep in her throat, moving up and outward in an exhale of simple desire, and her hips shuddered against his mouth. He couldn't take more and moved up, coming to rest between her opened legs. The taste of her was still on his lips when he slipped inside of her with ease. The noise she made then was one he would never forget. It was soft, like the caress of a lover, but so distinct his ears rang with the sound of it.
He cradled her head in his hands.
"Look at me, Sarah," he whispered, and her eyes fluttered open.
She reached up and wrapped her small hands around his wrists.
"I love you," he said and began to move within her.
He rocked against her, and her eyes closed as he felt her muscles tighten around him. She was small, stretching perfectly around him, and he gritted his teeth, holding onto control for as long as he could, not wanting the moment to end. He ran short kisses along her collarbones and up along the line of her neck, coming to rest in the fragile spot behind her ear. He couldn't seem to stop, so he flicked out his tongue and smiled at the whimper that came from his wife's lips.
"Alec," she said, more breath than actual word, but he knew what she meant. He knew what she felt even as he felt it himself. Knew what she wanted, what she needed even as he knew he needed and wanted it himself. He drove into her, and her legs suddenly wrapped around his waist, pulling him into her.
It sent him deliriously close to the edge, and he reigned back, wanting to prolong this, the first of many times he would truly make love to his wife. But the feeling was too intense, too strong, and even he could not control it.
"Sarah," he whispered.
"Come with me," she said, and he exploded as the first ripples of her orgasm closed around him.
He floated on it, floated on the release that consumed him, and he wasn't even sure if he was conscious enough to make certain he did not crush his wife. He finally rolled off of her, feeling the weight of the moment as he finally surfaced from the desire induced fog that had lain over them.
Sarah was in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as her hand cupped the side of his neck as if holding him closer were possible. He doubted they could have been any closer if they tried, but the feeling of his wife's grip on him left him motionless in her embrace.
"I love you, Alec," she whispered.
"I love you, too," he whispered back.
He blinked at the ceiling above them, at the way the morning sun moved across it, pushing ever deeper into the room. Soon they would need to get up, get ready to move again, to board a ship that would take them to Liverpool and hopefully to safety. And once they returned to London, the rest of their lives would begin.
"Sarah?" he asked and felt more than heard her response in a quiet hum against his neck.
"That day in the park. When you said you would talk to the War Office. That you would arrange everything. That you wouldn't be a burden to me anymore. Do you still mean that?"
He didn't know how much her words had affected him until lying there, completely sated from making extraordinary love to his wife, he realized how painful it would be for her to leave him. Physical pain with a realness so sharp it could possibly kill him.
Sarah moved against him, coming up on one elbow. The hand that had been holding onto his neck moved lower, playing in the hairs on his chest. Her hair stuck up in odd places, and a very satisfied smile graced her lips.
"If you were to repeat what it was that you just did to me, my lord, I shan't mean a single word of it."
A smile came unbidden to his lips. Whether it was at her words or at the sight of her, so well loved, he could not be sure.
"Is that a challenge, lady wife?"
Her smile deepened even as an edge of playful lust came to it, and he suddenly realized his wife was playing at seduction.
"That depends, my lord."
"Depends on what?"
"On whether or not you are up to such a feat. I have heard gentlemen of the peerage can be such dandies."
Alec moved so quickly, he saw the look of surprise flash in her eyes before she could cover it with a lazy gaze down the length of his body. He pinned her beneath him, settling between her now spread legs.
"Oh, I do believe I am up for that challenge. Let's pray that you can survive the outcome."
Sarah's laugh cascaded through the room, and Alec waited a moment, soaking in the pleasure the simple sound of her laugh gave him, before he kissed her again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Alec entered the common room of their suite in The Owl and Fork Inn to find his father seated at the table by the bank of windows along the far wall, the Times spread out in front of him. The sun was to his back, casting the older man in shadow, and Alec moved forward with an unfamiliar touch of trepidation. A serving cart sat next to the table, and Alec's stomach grumbled at the sight of it.
The Duke of Lofton looked up, a smile coming to his features, a face so familiar to Alec.
"Good morning, my boy. Why, you do not look any worse for the wear, do you?" his father said, as he stood and came toward him.
Alec wasn't sure what his father would do. The man had not been demonstrably affectionate since Alec had surrendered his last pair of knee pants to his nanny. It wasn't that Richard was not affectionate at all. He had just respected the wishes of his growing sons to b
e men in all ways, including signs of affection. But then, in the middle of a suite in The Owl and Fork in the port of Dover, Richard Lofton embraced his son.
And Alec hugged his father back.
He felt the surge of love in his father's arms, the same arms that had held him when he realized he had not killed Nathan, the same arms that had held him whenever a nightmare had threatened his sleep, the same arms that now told him his father had been worried about him.
"I'm all right, Father," he said then, his voice muffled as his face connected with the top of his father's shoulder.
Richard did not loosen his grip for a moment, and Alec could not say more.
"You'll have some breakfast then," Richard said, letting Alec go with a thump on the back. He moved away toward the table and with a flourish of his hand indicated the spread laid out. "There are eggs and kippers and more eggs..." his voice trailed off.
Alec took one of the chairs and reached for the tea pot.
"I would love some eggs and well, eggs."
Richard resumed his seat.
"Where is Nathan?"
"Reconnaissance mission," Richard said, reaching for a plate of eggs to hand to Alec. "Thatcher and Lady Cavanaugh are still unaccounted for."
Alec looked up from piling eggs onto his plate.
"Unaccounted for?"
"Yes." Richard picked up his tea cup. "They were to follow your captors after the exchange took place. The War Office needs to know if they are in allegiance with the French or if they were simply acting as paid liaisons. Thatcher was hired to do just that with the assistance of Lady Cavanaugh. They followed the men through the wharf last night, but Nathan lost track of them. He's gone down to the docks this morning to see if he can learn anything new."
Alec swallowed a bit of egg.
"Captain Teyssier, the Frenchman in charge on the ship where Nathan rescued us. He came into possession of Thatcher's hat. I do not know where or by what means he secured it, but something most certainly happened to Thatcher last evening."
Richard looked concerned.
For Love of the Earl Page 18
