The Lady and the Earl (Seabrook Family Saga)

by Donovan, Christine

  “Thank you,” Amelia said as she studied her husband. She wondered what he wore beneath his robe. Heat scorched her cheeks.

  “Blushing becomes you, my dear,” William said as he held out his hand, which shook ever so slightly, she noticed. “Shall we?”

  William led Amelia into his bedchamber. She would have to admire the decorating style another time as her heart soared, her body trembled, and her mind spun. She kept expecting to wake up and find this whole day a dream. Please, God, let it be real.

  “I have brought you into my room in hopes you will share it with me. I do not wish us to sleep in separate beds, ever,” William said, his eyes dark and serious.

  Nothing he could have said would have pleased Amelia more. As they stood face to face she realized for the first time how much he towered over her. His large hands combed through her long hair, sending intoxicating shivers up her spine. “William?”

  “Yes?” William answered as his hands left her hair and began undoing her robe. It quickly pooled around their feet. She felt one hand gently caressing her back, the other tilting up her chin. “You are beautiful, Amelia. So beautiful and I…thank you for becoming my Countess,” he said right before his lips made contact with hers. He kissed her hesitantly at first and then deepened the kiss. She heard him groan. Or was that her? William pulled her tightly against his hard body, and Amelia held on as her knees weakened. He tasted familiar and good, and she didn’t think she would ever tire of his kisses.

  Warm lips left her mouth and kissed a path down her neck, making her shiver. “William,” she heard herself say.

  “I need to explore,” he murmured. “Need to taste every inch of your silky skin.”

  Amelia removed her hands from William’s shoulders and untied the belt at his waist and let his robe fall from his broad shoulders to join her clothing on the floor. She gasped at the magnificent sight of William, naked and aroused.

  “You are beautiful, too,” she whispered.

  Deep laughter surrounded them. “Me, beautiful?” He kissed her cheek, then lifted her up into his arms and gently placed her on his large four-poster bed. His body came down upon hers. Instantly she wrapped her arms and legs around him. William groaned. “If you keep this up, it will be over before it even starts. I wish to savor this. Our first time together. Make it memorable in even more ways.”

  This time Amelia laughed. It was replaced by a gasp when William’s tongue suckled one of her nipples. Warm moisture pooled between her thighs as she tingled all over. “William, what are you—”

  She gasped as his hot mouth traveled down her belly and found her womanhood. “Oh. Oh, my.” One part of her screamed in protest at such an intimate act, while the other part reveled in it and never wanted it to end.

  ***

  “Amelia,” William breathed out as he thrust his tongue into her soft warm body, tasting her juices. Her taste intoxicated him. His mind spun and his body trembled. He could feel her body quivering, too. She was close, so close. He wanted to continue tasting her, but he also wanted to be inside her when she climaxed. William slid up her delectable body.

  “Amelia,” he cried out as he thrust deep inside her with one push until she gasped. His muscles froze in place. “Did I hurt you?”

  Though his wife was no virgin, had he hurt her?

  “Did I hurt you?” William repeated as his heart pounded inside his chest.

  “No,” she replied, panting softly. “Just surprised me, that is all.”

  William still did not move. Then slowly his wife’s body became soft and pliant beneath him. She stroked his back with her hands, causing his nerve endings to scream out. Her legs wrapped around him and her body arched up into his, taking him deeper inside her.

  “Amelia,” he moaned as his hips began moving with hers––faster, harder, deeper. Her insides convulsed, gripping his cock, over and over until at last he fell over the precipice with her.

  As his senses returned, and their breathing slowed, William rolled off Amelia and pulled her tightly against his chest. The same chest that held his heart, which now belonged to his wife.

  “I love you.”

  Amelia’s hand played with his chest hair. “I love you too.”

  Right then and there William knew he was finally complete. And for the first time, in twelve years, William slept soundly.

  Amelia’s breath paused in her lungs at the sight of William sleeping. Never had she seen his features relaxed in such a way. Had he ever relaxed before? She doubted it. Not for a longtime anyway. But tonight the worry lines around his eyes were soft and barely visible. Same went for the deep crease between his brows. His full lips were turned up into a half-smile. His breathing was deep and even. A calm contentment and joy filled her heart. The path that took them both to this place was filled with pain, tragedy and death.

  She believed fate brought them together that first day by the stream.

  She believed in her heart they were meant to be together.

  They were meant to heal each other.

  They were meant to raise Olivia together.

  As Amelia’s eyelids fluttered closed for the last time before succumbing to the pull of sleep, she whispered, “I love you.”

  ***

  Amelia found it easy to fall into the wonderful routine of spending nights wrapped up in her husband’s loving arms. Days were spent mothering Olivia and listening for William’s voice as he worked in his study. Once they took a picnic lunch up to the white cliffs and watched ships travel into and out of the Port of Dover. Each day brought new adventures and feelings. Not a day went by that she didn’t thank God for her new and wonderful life.

  One afternoon, while Olivia napped and William sat locked up in his study with his estate ledgers, she visited the stream where she’d first met her husband. As a family, the three of them spent many leisurely afternoons on the banks of that stream.

  Today Amelia found the solitude refreshing, giving her time to reflect on her good fortune. She laid back on the soft grass, her bonnet on the ground beside her. When the sun poked through the puffy clouds it warmed her face. It wasn’t long before every muscle in her body relaxed. Her heart slowed and she drifted into sleep. Dreams flittered in and out of her mind. Dreams of Captain Rycroft, William, and Olivia filled her with joy as she slept.

  In the dream that day, Rycroft came to her. “My dear Amelia. I love you, and I am so thankful you have found the earl to be a father to our daughter. You have my blessing. He loves you very much and will be a good husband and father. Please do not be saddened by my death anymore. I am with God. ”

  Amelia stirred in her sleep, and cried out, “Daniel, don’t go.”

  ***

  “Calling out for someone to help you will not do any good, Countess.”

  Amelia heard the deep voice invade her dream. Try as she might, she could not shake off the deep sleep.

  “Come now, Countess, wake up. It is time for you to pay the price for marrying Bridgeton.”

  Amelia shivered as a shadow blocked the warmth from the sun. The sudden chill had her sitting up abruptly. After rubbing her eyes, she focused on the gentleman standing in front of her. The murderous look on his face froze her blood.

  “Yes, Countess, you should be frightened,” warned the intruder.

  “Why are you here?” Amelia struggled to her feet and smoothed down her skirts, more to occupy her trembling hands than caring that her skirts were wrinkled and out of place.

  “I just told you. I’m here to make you pay for marrying Bridgeton.”

  “My husband is meeting me here; you’d better leave before he finds you on his estate,” Amelia said with a calmness she did not possess.

  Distorted laughter filled the air around her.

  Amelia fought to keep control and not give in to the sheer terror that filled her body and mind. “Please, I only warn you for your own protection. My husband has a temper.”

  More crazed laughter. “It will grieve me to kill you, Countes
s. You have courage. But because you had a moment of bad judgment and married Bridgeton, and he needs to be punished for his previous sins, I must snuff out your life. And when you are found, poor Bridgeton will look guilty of murder once again. Only this time I believe, your brother, the duke, will see that Bridgeton hangs for his sins.”

  With her body quaking in terror, she picked up her skirts and turned to run. The intruder anticipated her actions. He shot out his hands, gripping both of hers. He wrapped them behind her back, causing her to bend forward. He gripped her more tightly to free one of his hands. Before she could scream out he covered her mouth with his hand. She bit down hard on her attacker and tasted his blood.

  Amelia tried to break free of his hold but only made it worse. He dragged her to the stream. Somehow she found herself kneeling in the cold water. And it was then she knew what he intended to do. Drown her in the stream, as Katherine had been. All Amelia could do was scream William’s name over and over again inside her head. Poor William. He would indeed be suspected of causing her death. Please, God, do not let me die. Do not let William be blamed for something he did not do. Please, God, my daughter needs me.

  Everything that happened next happened quickly. Cold, wet darkness surrounded her. Amelia fought to keep her mouth closed and not take in water. Her battle was lost. She gulped in water as she attempted to scream. A beautiful calm overtook her as she saw her family sitting at the dining table, laughing and eating. The day she gave birth to Olivia flashed before her eyes. William, on the day he rode up to her at the stream on horseback for the first time, came into her vision.

  Amelia witnessed her body floating through a white cloud toward Rycroft, who looked horrified, standing there with tears in his eyes. And then there was nothing––utter silence and darkness.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Did you hear that?” Emma asked Wentworth, Sebastian, and Bella as the four rode on horseback across Wentworth land toward Bridgeton’s. After the wedding ceremony they had decided to take a rest from the London Season and stay in the country. Today they planned to surprise Amelia and Bridgeton with an afternoon visit for tea.

  “Hear what?” Sebastian asked.

  “I heard something. Water splashing,” Wentworth said, wondering what had upset his wife suddenly.

  “It sounded like a struggle. I heard moaning—”

  Before his wife could finish, Wentworth had his mare galloping full force toward the stream. Everything he ever heard about the deaths of Bridgeton’s brother and his brother’s pregnant wife screamed inside his head.

  “No, no, no!” he shouted, jumping down from his horse even while it still moved. A woman’s body lay, unmoving, in the stream. Wentworth’s heart stopped. “Please, God… Not Amelia.”

  “Oh, dear God,” cried Bella as she dismounted and splashed through the stream to reach the body.

  Wentworth picked up his sister’s lifeless, wet, cold body and placed her on the ground beside the stream. He ignored the screaming in his head telling him she was dead.

  “What do I do?” he shouted shakily, fighting down the panic trying to take over his body and mind.

  “Move aside,” Sebastian said.

  Wentworth’s knees buckled and he collapsed down next to his sister’s body. Sebastian turned Amelia’s body over onto her back and pushed down on her chest over and over. Nothing happened. Wentworth could hear his wife and Bella screaming at Sebastian not to stop. Sebastian continued until Amelia coughed up water and gasped for air.

  “How did you—” Wentworth cried out in relief.

  “I saw a man almost drown in America. I did what I saw someone do to save him.” Sebastian held Amelia’s lifeless body close to his to warm her up. “Do you suppose she will live?”

  “I do not know,” Wentworth mumbled, “but we must get her home and call for the doctor.”

  Wentworth rode home with Amelia’s unconscious body across his lap. His heart and mind heavy with worry. Tears streamed down his face as he bent forward and sobbed into his sister’s cold body. He prayed he would not lose her. How had Wentworth been fooled once again? He’d believed Bridgeton when he swore he had nothing to do with the deaths of his brother and sister-in-law. What a deceitful liar. What just happened to his sister could not be a coincidence.

  Wentworth would personally see to it that Bridgeton hung for his crimes. The earl would never kill another soul as long as Wentworth breathed. Once again Wentworth was bombarded with guilt. How could he have been so wrong? He would never trust his judgment again, as long as he lived.

  ***

  After the family physician had examined Amelia, the only thing he said was that time would tell if she’d ever wake up again. Some near-drowning victims woke up and were fine. Some never did.

  “Keep her warm and comfortable. Try to spoon-feed her broth, and pray for a miracle,” he told them in a sober tone.

  That was all the doctor had to say? Where were his words of encouragement? Wentworth refused to believe that Amelia might never wake up. She would. Bloody hell, he would see to it she did.

  “Did you send for Scotland Yard and Smythe?” Wentworth asked Sebastian as the two men shared a brandy in the privacy of Wentworth’s study a short time later.

  “Yes,” Sebastian answered as he downed the contents of his crystal glass. “Bridgeton, as we speak, is probably being transported to Newgate.”

  “Good. May he rot in hell,” Wentworth said as he refilled both Sebastian’s glass and his own.

  “Could you be wrong about this?” Sebastian asked. “I realize he has been accused of murder in the past, but I can’t see him harming Amelia.”

  “No,” Wentworth answered, refusing to doubt Bridgeton’s guilt. “And don’t question me again about it. The similarities cannot be a coincidence. Bridgeton is obviously a man with a dark side. One he has managed to hide from the world. Not anymore. I will see him punished for all his crimes. Tell me, has Amelia’s maid arrived with Olivia yet? It’s high time they did. I sent for them over an hour ago.”

  “Fear not, brother,” Sebastian reassured him. “They arrived unharmed and are now safely back in your care.”

  “Thank God. If anything happened to my niece…” Wentworth was unable to finish the dreadful thought. He collapsed in his desk chair and placed his head in the palms of his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. If Amelia does not wake up…I don’t think I can—”

  “She will wake,” Sebastian insisted. “She has to. Olivia needs her mother.”

  ***

  William was walking down the hall towards his study, after taking a brisk walk around the grounds to clear his head before he went back to his estate accounts, when a commotion in the entry hall distracted him. He hurried down the stairs and abruptly halted when he came face to face with two constables.

  Fear gripped his chest. All he could think about was Amelia. “Why are you here? Is Lady—”

  “Lord Bridgeton,” the taller of the two constables said, “you are under arrest for attempting to murder Lady Bridgeton. Do we need to use restraints? Or will you come willingly?”

  “What?” William looked around the entry hall, concerned by the sympathetic looks his staff gave him. Whatever did the constable mean? Were they arresting him for Katherine’s murder? But wait. He had said attempting to murder Lady Bridgeton. Dear God! Did that mean…?

  William’s legs buckled and his knees hit the wooden floor with a thud. “Where is my wife? I must see her now,” William begged.

  Feeling like an observer, William watched powerlessly as he was helped to his feet, seized by both arms, and escorted into a carriage. He was locked in with one of the constables. The other sat up front with the driver. No matter how much he asked the man opposite him about Amelia, he received no answer.

  “Please, have mercy on me. I need to know what happened to my wife.” William’s body trembled and his stomach clenched with fear. “Please, can you at least tell me if my wife is alive?”

  “Sh
e lives.”

  After taking a deep breath and sighing with relief, William leaned back against the hard seat and silently prayed to God. Thank you for letting Amelia live. But if she lived, why had she not cleared him of whatever had befallen her? Was it possible she could not? William closed his eyes, ignoring the tears that slid down his cheeks.

  How could he make this right? He needed to speak with Spencer and Smythe. As his mind cleared, there was no doubt in William’s mind that Trenton had to be responsible. He must have made a trip to his estate and attempted to kill his beloved Amelia.

  William had to find proof. He would not sit back this time and let Trenton get away with this. Now that William had a reason to live. Amelia was his world, beautiful Amelia and their adorable daughter, Olivia. He finally had his own family. He would not lose them now.

  When the carriage arrived at Newgate, William trembled and broke out in a cold sweat. He could not believe this was happening to him. He needed to get to Amelia and see for himself that she was unharmed. She meant everything to him. He needed to hear her voice. He was terrified for her safety.

  The warden met them at the gated entrance to hell. “A Mr. Spencer has paid for a private cell for you.” The warden spat on the dirt floor. “Too bad, I was looking forward to putting titled gentry in with the commoners.” He spat again on the floor. “Maybe in a few days’ time.”

  William was led down a dark, narrow, curved stone staircase. Voices came out of the darkness and pummeled his fuzzy brain. As he walked past cell after cell, arms reached out in the dark and pulled at him, making him cringe. Putrid smells assaulted his nostrils and he fought hard not to retch.

  His wife lived and he wanted to be at her side. Bloody hell, how did anyone survive this nightmare?

  They stopped at the end of the hallway and William was pushed inside a small cell. When his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out a cot, a wooden chair, and chamber pot––nothing else. It made William wonder how much Spencer had paid the warden. Probably a small fortune.