Arielle retreated without another word behind a fork holding a bite of braised ham.
“Well, in any case,” Knight said, “let me just say that if ever a female does manage to entrap me, I shall immediately revert to being wild and unmanageable.”
“There sits a conceited, quite arrogant fellow,” said Lannie. “Arielle is in the right of it. You men think everything circles about you, ladies included.”
“Perhaps I spoke prematurely,” said Knight, giving her a baiting grin. “I am twenty-six years old. I shall marry when I am forty. For an heir. That’s what my father did, and he recommended that I follow his footsteps in the matter. He assured me that I should ignore everything else he said or did, except for that. I am a dutiful son, that is all.”
“I suggest that you not announce your intentions to the ton in London,” Burke said. “You would become the challenge of every lady in town.”
“Or he might get done away with for his abominable arrogance,” said Lannie.
“Not by the ladies,” said Knight and saluted her with his wineglass.
“Oh,” said Lannie, “you are provoking, Knight Winthrop.”
In the drawing room some thirty minutes later, Arielle asked her half sister, “When is the baby due, Nesta?”
“I am but three and a half months now. A long time. Forever, it seems.”
“You look beautiful. Do you still wish for a boy? Or is that just Alec’s preference?”
“Oh, I don’t care. Of course, as I told you before, Alec wants an heir. All men do. As if a woman could determine the sex of her child,” she added on a sigh.
“Burke wouldn’t be like that,” said Arielle.
Lannie gave an I-know-all-about-that kind of smile. “A bride speaks,” she said, “not a wife. A bride, I add, who didn’t want to marry until she saw Burke Drummond.”
Arielle knew when she was in a six-foot hole she herself had dug. “That’s right,” she said and thrust up her chin.
“Have you ever asked Burke, Arielle?” Nesta said. “About children or preferring a boy?”
“No, I haven’t,” Arielle said, “but I know Burke. He is good and kind and wise—”
“Goodness,” said Lannie, bursting into merry laughter. “This is my brother-in-law, my dear, not some sort of Greek god or revered patriarch. You make him sound like a gray-bearded old man who pontificates in a cave somewhere.”
“That,” Arielle said, “he doesn’t do.” She laughed. “I shall now imagine him with that beard and in a long black robe.”
“Oh, dear,” said Lannie. “I think I shall play the pianoforte. Please don’t tell Burke what she said, Nesta, or he will replace Knight as the most arrogant, conceited male here.”
Nesta grinned at Arielle and patted the seat beside her. “Come sit with me, love.”
“That necklace looks lovely on you, Nesta.”
Nesta fingered her beautiful opal necklace. “Thank you. Alec gave it to me on my last birthday.”
Lannie launched into an ambitious Mozart Sonata in F Major, but the two sisters were still able to chat quietly.
“You’ve been married nearly five years now, Nesta. I remember Alec then. You were giddy about him.”
“Yes,” said Nesta. “More than giddy, I daresay. I would have slain dragons for him had he asked. Do you remember how beautiful he was then? And he just seems to become more beautiful every year. It is occasionally irksome.” She lowered her eyes a moment. “I am afraid, Arielle,” she whispered.
Arielle blinked her surprise. “Of what?”
“I am growing bulky. In a couple of months Alec won’t be able to—well, you know what I mean. He will become quite bored with me.”
“But that’s silly. Alec loves you.”
“He is also a man who is very physical. He needs intimacy. I can’t see him going without—”
“Intimacy?” Arielle said.
“Yes,” said Nesta. “He won’t go without. Perhaps I shouldn’t be speaking like this to you, but you are, after all, a married woman. Goodness, Burke is your second husband. It is an odd realization, you only eighteen years old.” Nesta sighed. “But there it is.”
“I know,” said Arielle.
“Even now, whenever Alec shows his face, the ladies swoon in his path, hoping to gain his attention. It happened everywhere we went, even in Macau. And you know Alec, he simply doesn’t appear to notice all these felled females. How he can be so oblivious of all the quickened heartbeats in his vicinity is a constant source of wonder to me.”
“Well, you will keep him safe and oblivious in the country, will you not?”
“We will go to his estate in Northumberland shortly. I hope he won’t be too restless there.”
“Alec restless?” said Arielle. “Whyever for? He hasn’t been there in years. He will have plenty to occupy him. But what about you? You are the one I worry about.”
“I am fine. I just wish it were over and the child born healthy.”
“Nesta, may I ask you something?”
“You are my sister. It is proper for us to speak of everything together.”
“Does Alec ever hurt you?”
“Hurt me? What do you mean?”
Does he beat you? Does he force you to your knees and humiliate you?
“I—no, never mind. Lannie plays beautifully, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” Nesta said, a thoughtful frown puckering her brow, “yes, she does. As I recall, so do you, Arielle.”
“You seem sad, Nesta. Alec is an honorable man, isn’t he? I mean, he won’t leave you or anything?”
Nesta gave a pained smile. “He is, yes. I lied to you, Arielle. Alec was bored with me three months after we were wed. I hold him with—oh, dear, I am becoming more and more indiscreet by the moment. Forget all that, my dear.”
How can I? Arielle wondered, but she said no more. She wasn’t stupid. She knew, of course, that Nesta was going to say that she held her husband with sex. That, Arielle thought, was something she simply couldn’t imagine.
When the gentlemen came into the drawing room not long thereafter, Arielle’s eyes went to her husband. He was laughing at something Percy said. He was the beautiful one, she thought. And he was kind and good and wise, despite the fact he didn’t sport a long, tangled beard and a dirty robe. He wouldn’t hurt her, ever. She rose and walked over to him. He smiled at her and laced his fingers in hers. He laughed again when Percy came to the end of his jest. “I see,” Percy said, glancing at Arielle, “that you want me elsewhere. I shall turn pages for Lannie.”
“The man is wonderfully perceptive,” said Burke. He tightened his hold on her fingers. “Hello, my dear.”
“Nesta told me ladies swoon in Alec’s path to get his attention. Do you think that’s true?”
Burke looked startled at that artless disclosure. “Well, I fully expect you to faint before the end of the week. At least once.”
Her sweet laughter warmed him. He felt hopeful. An hour later, as he climbed into their bed beside her, he felt randy, so randy he hurt.
Then he felt stunned.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Seventeen
He sounded so incredulous that for a moment Arielle felt too intimidated to say it again.
“What, Arielle? Come, what did you say?”
He sounded more like himself now, but there was still that edge of bewilderment in his voice. “Well,” she said, glad it was dark and he couldn’t see her face, “I just wondered if you wanted children.”
“I see,” he said, not seeing a damned thing. “I think I told you once that I did.”
“Do you think you would insist upon a boy first?”
“I could probably insist until cows swim the Atlantic, but it wouldn’t do much good.”
“Would you be disappointed if it weren’t a boy first?”
He was growing randier by the second. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Probably not. He sighed. “No, I wouldn’t be disappointed. Di
dn’t I once tell you that I wanted a little girl who looked just like you?”
“You were just being nice.”
“Well, I am nice. I’m delighted you’ve finally noticed. Of course I would like one of our children to be a boy. One of our children needs to be a boy. Unfortunately, girls can’t become earls. Equally unfortunately, girls have to take their husband’s names. Our girls would cease to be Drummonds.”
“Yes, that’s true. Lannie once told me that Montrose didn’t speak to her for two weeks after Poppet was born.”
“Montrose was a fool.”
“I’m beginning to think Lannie didn’t like him very much.”
“Many wives don’t like their husbands. And vice versa, I might add.”
Arielle didn’t say anything to that bit of wisdom. She heard Burke turn and knew that he was on his side now, facing her. She didn’t move.
“Burke?”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t ask me to kiss you good night.”
He sucked in his breath. His eyes glittered. “Arielle, are you teasing me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you do. I can hear it in your voice.”
“All right. Burke, will you give me a baby?”
One blow right after the other, he thought blankly. Had he been standing, he would have been reeling. As it was, he was lying down and he was still reeling, figuratively at least. He heard himself say in the calmest voice imaginable, “Are we having this discussion because Nesta is pregnant?”
“No. Well, that’s not entirely true. I probably wouldn’t have given it too much thought right away if it weren’t for Nesta and Virgie and Poppet. While you gentlemen were with your port after dinner, Nester, Lannie, and I were discussing children. I do love Virgie and Poppet. Don’t you think I would be a good mother?”
Getting to the mother part was uppermost in Burke’s mind at this moment.
“Yes, I think you would be a wonderful mother.”
“You think you would be a good father?”
“I would be a wonderful father,” he said firmly. “The very best, in fact.”
“Then you’ll consider it?”
“Arielle, you do understand fully how one becomes a mother?”
“Yes, of course. I’m not stupid, Burke.”
“The thought of me touching you, caressing you intimately, my sex coming inside you—it doesn’t repel you? It doesn’t frighten you?”
He heard her draw in her breath sharply and added, “I hope you don’t mind my plain speaking, but I want to be certain that you understand everything.”
“I’m not stupid,” she said again, but he heard the thinness in her voice.
“All right, do you also know that I will—no, forget it. That, my dear, takes demonstration, not explanation.”
“What does?”
“You’ll see, hopefully.” The thought of caressing her with his mouth, every inch of her, nearly made his muscles go into spasm.
“Then you’ll do it?”
He was smiling into the darkness, a grim, very tight smile. “I don’t see why not,” he said finally. And he chuckled. He fell onto his back, laughing deeply now. Good God, he thought, talk about the vagaries of fate.
“What is so funny? I thought this would be excessively serious, you know. Men always—”
He rolled over to her and she felt his fingertip touch her lips. “Shush. No more men always, all right? You know very little about men, good men, at least.”
He was certainly right about that. She fell silent.
“What’s wrong, Arielle?” he asked finally. “You lose your nerve?”
“I guess so. I don’t want to be hurt anymore. If you do that to me, it will hurt, won’t it?”
She couldn’t know, of course, that when she said things like that, he wanted to howl in helpless rage and strangle a man already well dead.
“I won’t ever hurt you. I thought we’d settled that once and for all. Except—” He paused. No, he thought, he had to. She was a virgin. He said very gently, “Listen, Arielle. Did Cochrane ever—oh, God, this is damned difficult.”
“I don’t mind.”
“All right, did he ever come into you far enough or put anything inside you that made you bleed?” He could practically hear her sorting through one confusing, completely incorrect conclusion after the other. “Let me add to that. Just once, Arielle. Make you bleed just one time?”
“No,” she said at last. “The other times—well, never mind.”
So, Burke thought, his hands automatically balling into fists, Cochrane had humiliated her in that way as well.
“That means your maidenhead is still intact. It will hurt just a bit the first time I come inside you. Then no more pain or discomfort, ever. I promise.”
“All right.”
“Just like that? All right, Burke? Get started now, please? Get it over with?”
“You needn’t be sarcastic just because you’re losing your nerve. I don’t mean to make you feel like you have to, Burke. I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry with me. Can we go to sleep now?”
“I’m not angry with you,” he said. “Actually, I feel I’m very close to making something we call a tactical retreat. You see, I love you—something I’ve told you many times now—I care about you and your feelings, and I want, really want, to make love with you. I desire you. Very much. Just looking at you makes my body hard. And you, of course, have no concept of what desire even is. Now you want me to give you a baby, which means making love, and you make it sound like ordering a new gown or asking the cobbler for a new pair of shoes. It isn’t, Arielle. Not for me, at any rate. Do you understand?”
“This is very difficult. I would like to think about it, if you don’t mind.”
“I think you should,” he said, wanting more than anything to bury himself inside her this very instant.
Burke discovered some silent minutes later that he didn’t like going to sleep on a serious note. “Why don’t you give me a good-night kiss?”
She rolled over immediately, placed one palm on his naked chest, and kissed him, missing his mouth, then finding it after a giggling exploration. A nice, very firm kiss. Of course her lips were tightly closed.
“Good night, Arielle,” he said.
“I don’t mind kissing you, Burke.”
“That’s a good start. Why don’t you try it again, only this time part your lips just a bit.”
It was dark, it was late at night, she couldn’t see his face or he hers, so she did. His tongue touched hers. She drew back, but not before she was aware of a brief, very sweet, very warm feeling deep in her belly.
He was wonderfully aware of that exquisite reaction in her.
Arielle stood outside the door of Nesta’s bedchamber the following morning, her hand raised to knock.
She paused at the sound of strange noises from within. She heard a woman’s moan. Oh, dear, was Nesta in pain? She pressed her ear to the door and heard Nesta cry out, “Oh, God, oh!” Was she losing the baby? Without hesitation, Arielle flung open the door and rushed in. “Nesta, is something wrong? Are you all—” Her voice fell like a stone from a cliff. She stood stock-still and stared.
Nesta was on her back, naked. Alec, equally naked and looking every bit as beautiful and powerful as a savage Viking god, was over her, between her parted legs, inside her body. His back was arched, his head flung back. Then Arielle’s voice and her presence penetrated his brain.
He was looking at her now, his eyes glazed, his expression utterly bewildered.
“Arielle!” Nesta began to struggle against her husband.
Alec said very calmly, “Get out, Arielle. Nesta is quite all right. Out.”
“Come along, my dear,” Burke said, coming up behind her and quickly pulling her out of the bedchamber. He closed the door firmly.
To Arielle’s surprise, she heard Alec’s bark of laughter, then Nesta’s wail of embarrassment.
Arielle presse
d her palms against her cheeks. “Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, dear.”
“I agree,” Burke said, and then he laughed. He drew her into his arms and laughed and laughed. “I don’t suppose you were expecting that when you dashed into their bedchamber.”
“Oh, dear,” Arielle said again, burying her face in his shoulder. “Oh, dear.”
“At least Alec was laughing instead of threatening to strangle you.”
“You were there, too.”
“I am but an innocent bystander. I was simply walking down my own corridor to my own bedchamber when I chanced to see my wife standing in a bedchamber, her mouth agape like a village half-wit’s, staring at her sister and brother-in-law making very passionate love.”
“I thought Nesta was in pain. I heard her moaning—”
“I do understand.” And he burst into laughter again.
Arielle drew back her fist and punched him as hard as she could in his stomach. He grunted, grabbing her fist. But still he was grinning, an unholy grin, and at her expense. Then he touched his fingertip to the tip of her nose. “I venture to say that we would look as enticing as Alec and Nesta did. Are you interested?”
Arielle closed her eyes tightly. “I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.”
“I’m sure your sister and brother-in-law probably feel the same way.”
“Nesta said that Alec was a man who had to have—well, a man who needed—”
“Most of us blighted specimens are like that.”
“You as well, Burke?”
“Good Lord, yes.”
That earned him a very wary look. “But you haven’t done—that is, you haven’t made me think that you would—”
He cupped her face between his hands, leaned down, and kissed her, hard and quick. His voice was rough and deep as he said, “I want you nearly all the time. Don’t ever think that I don’t. I look at you and I want you. I smell that special lavender scent of yours and I want you. I hear you talking and I want you. I eat Cook’s crimped salmon and I want you.”
“Stop that. You’re making all that up.”
Night Fire Page 24
