Rescued by the Viscount

by Anne Herries

  ‘Of course I can, Jack. I can be happy anywhere that you are.’

  ‘The door to the dressing room has a key, which you can lock on your side,’ he told her with a rueful look. ‘Your mama may not feel it enough to keep me out—but I promise not to come through until we are married,’

  ‘That cannot be soon enough for me,’ Charlotte replied and lifted her face for his kiss. ‘I love you so much, Jack.’

  He held her to him and she felt his arousal through the thin silk of her gown, melting into his arms as they kissed again and again, until Jack drew back and released her with a smile.

  ‘I think we should go down for tea, do you not, my love? I must be able to assure your mama that your innocence has not and will not be violated...that your chastity will remain untouched until our wedding night and if we stay here I am not sure that will remain the truth.’

  ‘Must you really give that promise?’ Charlotte asked, looking up at him wickedly. ‘Well, if you must, then I think we should bring the wedding forward—don’t you?’

  ‘You are a wicked girl,’ Jack said with a moan of need and gathered her into his arms, ‘but I am very willing to wed you tomorrow, my darling.’

  ‘I think we must wait three weeks, unless you happen to have a special licence?’

  Jack chuckled, bending to drop a kiss on her brow. ‘It so happens that I had my secretary procure the very thing...and I believe we should hold the ball next week, as arranged, and marry two days later.’

  Charlotte’s agreement was lost beneath his soft but demanding lips, and it was only some ten minutes later that she remembered the marquis was expecting her for tea.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘I do believe we shall have to request some more hot water for it will have gone quite cold.’

  ‘We had best go and join Grandfather, he is bound to worry until he sees for himself that you are perfectly well.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Well, Charlotte,’ Mama said, looking at her in the beautiful white silk-tulle-and-lace gown that had been made for her in London by a French seamstress. ‘I am sure you make a beautiful bride—and though I cannot like the sleeping arrangements Viscount Delsey insisted upon these past two weeks, I believe you are still innocent.’

  ‘Yes, Mama, of course,’ Charlotte replied, avoiding her mother’s sharp gaze. She was still untouched in the sense her mama meant, but she had learned to respond to Jack’s lovemaking, even though he had shown admirable restraint in the face of her willingness to give all that he desired. ‘Jack gave his word he would not come through the connecting door until our wedding night—and he is too honourable to break it.’

  ‘And so I should hope. I dare say you do not need instruction on how to behave once you are married. I should have to be blind not to see the way you react when he so much as touches your hand.’

  ‘I love him, Mama. Is that so very wrong?’

  ‘Not at all. I am glad of it,’ Mama said and smiled. ‘When you have daughters you will want what is best for them, my love, as I did for you, and if they are lucky enough to find love you will be happy for them. My scolding has always been for your own good.’

  ‘Mama, you may scold me as much as you wish,’ Charlotte said and hugged her. ‘After what you did... You saved me from that dreadful man. Even had Jack arrived in time, Patterson would not have hesitated to shoot him, or any of the footmen. It was your manner that threw him off balance. The look on his face as you berated him...’ She broke into happy laughter. ‘Truly, it was so comical!’

  ‘Well, I am glad you can laugh over it,’ Mama said and then a look of pure mischief came to her eyes. ‘I’ve eaten far more terrifying men for breakfast, my love. If he thought he could take you away under my nose, he was much mistaken.’

  ‘Oh, Mama, I do love you,’ Charlotte said. ‘I never truly understood you until that day, but I do now—and I shall try to follow your example when I have daughters of my own.’

  ‘You must try to give Delsey a son first,’ her mama instructed. ‘Not that he will mind, for I never saw a man so besotted in my life. I dare say you will twist him round your little finger.’

  Charlotte smiled, but made no reply. Jack was not so easy to manage as her mother believed, but she would not have had him any other way.

  * * *

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Papa said as he gave her his arm and they prepared to enter the church. ‘I’m so proud of my daughter.’

  ‘I’m not always an angel, Papa.’

  He nodded at her, a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Do not imagine I do not know what kind of mischief you get into, Daughter. Your brother confessed the whole to me before he left for the army. He asked if I thought he should repay that damned four thousand, but I told him to forget it. Harding and his kind are the scum of the earth—and we shall never mention him again.’

  ‘I was afraid to tell you, for I thought you would be ashamed of me.’

  ‘How could I when all you did was try to protect your brother?’

  In saying that she was not an angel, Charlotte had not quite meant what her father thought, but she kept her own counsel, for the secret of the little hidden room at the top of the house was hers and Jack’s alone. In his arms there she’d learned to know what loving was all about, though Jack had not taken her maidenhead. He’d kept his word and the door of the dressing room remained locked each night, but no one had made a promise about warm summer afternoons, when they opened the windows of their secret hideaway and listened to the birds sing as they kissed and touched to their heart’s content.

  If Charlotte had doubted Jack’s feelings for her, she no longer had cause, for he had shown her in every possible way that he adored her.

  Smiling confidently, Charlotte walked the length of the aisle on her father’s arm, her heart singing with joy. Jack and Phipps stood waiting for her and Jack turned to look at her as she came to stand at his side. Her veil was fine and she could see through it well enough to recognise the love in his eyes as he reached for her hand.

  His cool fingers curled about hers possessively, holding her lightly, but with a firmness that spoke of his determination. She was his, had been his for longer than either of them had truly recognised and now he was claiming her before the world.

  The vicar spoke of love and duty, of the purpose of marriage in the eyes of God, and then asked them to repeat their vows. As Jack slipped a heavy gold ring on her finger, a look that she had come to know and love entered his eyes; it was a look of complete love and of belonging.

  After the ceremony and the signing of the register, they walked from the church to the ringing of bells. People from the estate and the villages crowded forward to shower them with rice and rose petals, and then they were running for their carriage, Charlotte clinging to the straw doll she’d been given by a young girl.

  ‘To bless your fertility, Lady Delsey,’ the girl said and subsided into giggles as Charlotte blushed.

  The reception was lavish, for the marquis had invited more than three hundred guests and they flowed through the rooms and out into the gardens, where a huge marquee had been set up to accommodate them all.

  Even the people from the estate were being entertained in another part of the large gardens, and Jack took his bride to visit them and thank them for all their hard work in the days leading up to the wedding. So much delicious food had been prepared that extra cooks had been brought in from London, one of them Jack’s own chef, who had created the wonderful wedding cake—four layers of sugared exquisite artistry that had the guests gasping, decorated with delicate flowers, baskets of birds with feathered wings and spun sugar ribbons to cover the bridal couple on top.

  Because Jack had decided that they would celebrate their wedding nuptials on the estate, they did not slip away as was often the custom, but danced the night away with a hundred guests in the
huge ballroom. The older generation had retired to the various parlours and the drawing room, leaving the younger ones to dance until dawn.

  The marquis had gone up to his room after the reception was over, declaring that he was tired but happy. Lady Daisy had kissed the bride and declared herself satisfied.

  ‘I thought Jack would never be himself again,’ she’d told Charlotte the day before the wedding, ‘and when he lost his memory and seemed not to know me I was willing to hate you. Yet now he is the son he was before his father died—and he tells me it is your doing, because he has found something he’d never thought to know in you. So, if I was ever cold to you, you must forgive me, Charlotte. You’ve made my son happy and that is all I ever wanted.’

  Charlotte told her there was nothing to forgive and they had parted on good terms. Lady Daisy had become firm friends with Charlotte’s mother and was to stay with them once the happy pair had returned from their honeymoon.

  ‘It is best that you become accustomed to being the mistress here without her,’ Mama had told Charlotte. ‘You are the future marchioness and you must greet her as family but also your guest when she comes to stay.’

  After they had bid the last of their friends goodnight, some departing to their homes, some to the many guest rooms, Jack took her hand and led her upstairs to their own apartments. He left her at the door, reminding her that the connecting door had been unlocked and the key put away, where it would stay for the rest of their lives.

  ‘You are mine now, Charlie,’ he murmured against her lips as he opened her door and saw her inside. ‘I shall not keep you long. Send your maid away as soon as she has helped you out of that dress.’

  Charlotte nodded wordlessly, his hand lingering in hers until she reluctantly let him go and he went out into the hall. Betty was waiting for her in the dressing room and came in when she heard them, looking at Charlotte uncertainly.

  ‘Shall I undress you, my lady?’

  ‘Just help me out of this,’ Charlotte said. ‘Then you can go to bed. Thank you for sitting up for me—and for making me look beautiful today.’

  ‘You always look lovely, miss,’ Betty said, slipping into the old form of address. ‘And I like to look after you.’

  She undid the long line of pearl buttons at the back of the gorgeous wedding gown and helped Charlotte out of it, then carried it away into the dressing room, and slipped out of the hall door moments before Jack appeared wearing a crimson-and-black-striped dressing robe.

  Charlotte turned to welcome him, noting that his feet were bare. He must have stripped quickly, impatient to claim his bride, for she had not finished taking the pins from her hair.

  ‘Sit down and let me do that,’ he said, his voice slightly hoarse. ‘You have lovely hair, my darling. I like it best when it is loose on your shoulders.’ He lifted it, kissing the back of her neck.

  Charlotte shivered, feeling the rush of desire that his touch aroused in her. She was glad that he had taught her to respond to his touch without being shy, for it meant that she could be as eager as he for the natural fulfilment of their loving. She arched her neck, enjoying the sensations trickling through her, relishing the feel of the hairbrush as he stroked it over her hair, letting it ripple in shining tresses to fan out on her shoulders. The feeling was so exquisite that she moaned with pleasure, and then she was on her feet, turning to him as he crushed her against him. His need was urgent and she melted into him, the evidence of his fierce desire making her tingle with anticipation. Slipping the straps of her chemise over her shoulders, he sent it slithering to the floor, his eyes seeming to feast on the glory that had been denied him until this moment. As his lips touched the hollow at the base of her throat, she gave a strangled cry and almost swooned into his arms, feeling them surround her strongly, and her body was exultant. Tonight she would be completely his.

  Jack swept her up in his strong arms, carrying her to the bed, his eyes deep with love and desire. He placed her carefully amongst the fragrant sheets and then discarded his robe. The sight of his honed, strong masculine body made her catch her breath, for despite the scars that told of past battles and fresh wounds still not completely healed, he was magnificent.

  Lying beside her, Jack gathered her into his arms and began to caress her willing body. Charlotte realised that she had previously only glimpsed the pleasure that could now be hers, for their touching and kissing had not set off the fierce hunger that now roared through her as she felt his cool flesh against hers. Silken smooth, his body hard and so masculine, so divinely strong, made her thrill and cry out, her back arching as she reached for him.

  Their coming together was swift, for both were in need, and they were carried to a heady climax that made Jack shout out and Charlotte shed tears as she clung to him. He wiped the tears and apologised for the pain he must have caused as he took her virginity, but she only shook her head.

  ‘You told me how it would be the first time,’ she said and touched his cheek, smiling as he looked concerned. ‘Next time we shall not be in so much hurry...’

  ‘No, no hurry, at all,’ he murmured huskily, and after a short time of holding her pinned against him by his long strong legs, he began to make love to her again, this time with his lips and tongue, and his stroking hands. ‘We have all the time in the world. The rest of our lives, my darling.’

  Charlotte gave herself up to his caresses, but this time he brought her to a quivering climax without entering her himself and when she asked him why, he told her that he would not have her in pain.

  ‘Tomorrow and all our tomorrows will be time enough to explore the pleasures of love, besides, this gives me pleasure. Touching you, looking at you, exploring all the places I have longed to make my own. I adore you, my Charlotte, and I have all I need right here.’

  She smiled and her hands moved over his shoulder, caressing the satin skin of his back. ‘To think that I once believed you wanted only a marriage of convenience...for the heirs that I might give you...’

  ‘If we never had a child I should not care for myself, though Grandfather would be disappointed.’

  ‘I shall not disappoint him, for I have promised him he shall have a grandson first,’ she said, giving him a look that made him laugh and pull her closer. ‘I am so glad that we have found love, Jack.’

  ‘No more than I,’ he said and was serious for a time. ‘I never expected to and when we first met I liked you, but did not realise that you could come to mean so much to me. Only when we met again did I see how fortunate I had been in my choice. When my father died and I thought it might be because of a woman something closed up in me. I blamed her for taking him from us...and I hated her, because I knew he had never loved my mother or me as much as he loved her... I believed she had hurt him deliberately and thought all women faithless. Only when I had forgot my prejudice did I allow myself to fall in love.’

  ‘Your father must have loved you. You were his son.’

  ‘Perhaps—but she was the one who haunted him all his life. I did not understand then, my darling. I did not understand that it was possible to love a woman so much that life would mean nothing without her.’

  ‘Is that how you love me?’

  He nodded and stroked his finger round the sensitive part of her ear. ‘Yes, though in London I did not know it. You amused me. I liked and admired you, Charlie, but I did not know how to overcome the barrier in my heart—and then I lost my memory. I forgot my distrust of your sex and when you dimpled up at me, when you spoke so honestly, trusted me, and then saved my life, I lost my heart, truly and for ever. When I discovered that you’d been snatched from me, I thought I should die if I could not get you back.’

  ‘Then losing your memory was a blessing in disguise,’ she murmured and cuddled up to him, her eyes meeting his wickedly. Stroking one finger down his naked chest, she said, ‘Are you sure we have to wait until tomorrow?’
<
br />   The question went unanswered as his lips found hers in a kiss that was so sweet and tender, yet fiercely demanding, that it took her breath and she had all the reply she needed.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE WARRIOR’S WINTER BRIDE by Denise Lynn.

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  Chapter One

  Warehaven Keep—autumn 1145

  Men were no better than toads, hopping mindlessly one way and then the next without warning. Before, she’d only wondered about it, but now she knew for certain it was true.

  The cool night air did little to soothe her raging anger. Isabella of Warehaven shouldered her way through the throng of people crowded in her father’s bailey. She needed some time alone before returning to the celebration about to take place inside the keep.

  Her betrothal and upcoming marriage to Wade of Glenforde had been painstakingly planned for months. Each detail had been overseen with the utmost of care. Every line of the agreement had been scrutinised with an eye to the future—her future.

  And in a few moments’ time she would toss all of her father’s planning into the fire. Her parents would be so upset with her and she hated the idea of disappointing them, but she just couldn’t, she wouldn’t marry Glenforde. He could wed the whore she’d seen him kissing while he pulled the giggling strumpet into a private alcove.