White Lace and Promises

by Natasha Blackthorne

  Thomas had crossed an uncrossable line. Gentlemen understood these things.

  And Thomas did understand, for he paled and twisted his mouth. He turned away and gazed out at the river for a moment. Then he turned back and smiled a tortured, forced-looking smile. “Well, good God, Sexton, come back down here. We’ve got some serious talking to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I took his place.”

  Grey’s words fell on Beth like a deluge of cold water and she set her cup of steaming liquorice tea down on the night table. “You what?”

  “It took some doing, but Jan convinced me it was my honour at stake, and I took his place.”

  With terror crawling over her scalp, she gaped at him. He looked fine but—“Oh God, are you hurt?” She gingerly touched his wool-covered chest.

  “No, I am not harmed.”

  Relief made her so weak she had to lie back on her pillow. “What happened to Watson?”

  He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Fortunately, he offered me a grudging apology.”

  At least there would be no blood between them over this whole overblown matter. But she dreaded the next question. “And your friendship?”

  “It seems over, Beth. I can forgive but not forget his attempt to place a wedge between us.” He caressed her hair. “Darling, I don’t want you to fear him any longer. He has decided to return to Boston.”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. “Boston?”

  “Yes, New York is a growing town. He thinks Boston shall be more copasetic for him now.”

  At the hard note under Grey’s tones, Beth understood. He had made moving back to Boston a term of his acceptance of the apology from Watson. She couldn’t be sorry.

  Grey’s hand stilled on her hair. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out why he would turn on me like this. To attack my wife, provoke my son to a deadly duel… Good God, I begin to think I never knew him at all.”

  “Jenna…he wanted you free for her.” It was hard to speak. She had to conserve her voice. “Maybe he reckoned if you thought Jan had real reason to duel with him over my honour, then you’d turn on me.”

  “I thought he’d accepted that I was never going to marry Jenna.” Grey took her hand and drew it to his lips. “I was never going to marry anyone else ever again, until I met a certain young lady in a Philadelphia bookseller’s and she led me on a merry chase.”

  That brought back the disquieting spectre of his upcoming trip. “When are you leaving for Philadelphia?”

  “I am not going.”

  Hope sprang within her. “You’re not? But the Pride?”

  “I am sending Jan.” A small smile curved his lips.

  “Jan?” She couldn’t have been more shocked.

  “You said he needed some real responsibility.”

  “But it seems so sudden.” She coughed. “So much responsibility.”

  “I am sending him with detailed written instructions for Mr Heron. It’s going to be Jan’s responsibility to keep me informed on how Mr Heron follows my orders.”

  “But the risk?”

  “Mr Heron is trustworthy and capable—he really doesn’t need anyone, not even me, breathing down his neck to do a good job. But, yes, I could lose the case. It’s just the cost of one cargo. Perhaps I have been overly concerned about this. Blown it up out of proportion in the larger scheme of things. Our reputation has always been good. We’ll weather a charge of fraud. Jan needs this. If this is what it takes to prove my caring and how much he is worth to me, then I shall risk the loss.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides, my place is here in New York with you, my love.”

  She glanced up at him. “Grey, are you—?” Her voice broke. “That mansion in Long Island?”

  He squeezed her hand and smiled at her, his silver eyes full of soul-deep tenderness. “I think I shall buy it for us both. We need someplace close, of our own, to go away to together.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. They were not going to part. Not now.

  “When I am well I shall return to teach at the school,” she said.

  “Yes, I think you should. You need something of your own. I am a busy man and I doubt that will change any time soon. However, I promise I shall be more selective in the engagements I choose to attend in the evenings. I have always been mindful of maintaining my contacts but now I see it is more important that I spend time with you and, when our child comes, it shall be even more imperative. I pledge to you that I shall spend no more than two nights a week away from home without you. Will that suffice?”

  She smiled, her eyes blurring with happy tears. She nodded.

  He cupped her face. “Thank you for being patient with me, my love.”

  “The fault wasn’t completely yours.”

  His eyes shone like silver stars. “You own my heart. Now and forever.”

  “I love you completely.” She croaked the words without any reservations.

  The heaviness she’d lived with for so long lifted from her heart. They were going to be all right. She, Grey, Jan, and however many children they were blessed with, would be all right. She would have everything she’d ever wanted. They would be a real family.

  “If you must have your sister and her girls here in your life, then I shall not gainsay it. I’ll buy her a house—a nice one. But you must swear you will allow me to handle her financial needs. I’ll even get Charlie a small house in Philadelphia. However, I must have your word—no more giving them money from that which is yours and yours alone.”

  She nodded. Grey was being more than reasonable, more than tolerant. Ruth and Charlie were going to have to learn to live within their means.

  He smiled “All right, then, that’s settled.”

  “But you must promise me…” Her hoarse voice was breaking now, but it had to be said.

  He stroked her hair. “Anything, my love.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to make the most of what was left of her voice. “You must eat at noon every day and you must sleep at least six hours each night.”

  His eyes softened even more and he chucked low. “From that first day, I knew you would be a bossy female. I wonder that I didn’t have the wisdom to stay away.”

  “I mean it, Grey.” She fixed him with a severe look. “You will not be dropping dead on me.” She coughed and cleared her throat. Fiery pain made her grimace. “I shall never forgive you if you do.”

  He nodded. “All right, Beth, it shall be as you say.”

  “In my bed.” She held her breath.

  His dark brows drew together. “What?”

  Her heart flipped up into her throat. God, she ought to have quit while she was ahead but why not gamble for everything she wanted this time? What good did it do to hold back?

  “I mean that you shall sleep every night in my bed.”

  He took her hand and pressed it to his face. “Of course—every night from now on.”

  Her heart felt lighter than ever. It was really happening. They were to become a truly married couple.

  “Now, Beth, you must get better. You must be well enough by February.”

  His dictatorial tones brought a smile to her lips. “Must I? Why?”

  “Because I promised you a trip. Us, alone together, away from all of this. I intend to keep my promise.”

  Epilogue

  She hadn’t wanted to attend any damn ball. Not tonight of all nights. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Neither of the girls liked thunder. Beth chewed on her fingertip, her mind not here in the carriage but back in the nursery with its primrose wallpaper and polished maple cradle and rocking chair. Exactly where she should be now.

  Yet she was here in the carriage riding to the ball. Why? Because he had insisted and, ultimately, if truth were told, she could deny him nothing he truly wanted.

  “They will be fine, Beth, that’s what we pay the nannies for.” Grey’s deep voice cut into her thoughts.

  Her shoulders tensed and rose of their own voli
tion. “Our children shouldn’t be raised by their nannies.”

  “You’ve not been out of the nursery since Ellie was born.”

  She smiled despite herself. “That’s not true.”

  He tilted his head and made a wry expression. “It is a virtual truth, if not literal.”

  She couldn’t deny that. Already she missed her girls. She should be the one tucking Priss into her little bed. The one to put the thick overnight nappy on Ellie.

  “You’re going to spoil them.” His voice resonated with tolerant humour.

  All right, yes, she had spent much time in the nursery. Holding the baby and reading to Priss while she played at Beth’s feet. It was summer and the charity school was on break. What better use could she find for her time?

  “I am not spoiling them; I am simply giving them some attention. They will be little such a short time.”

  He moved closer to her and took her hand. “But I need your attention, too.”

  He stared at her, intently, as if seeing her for the first time. She caught her breath, for the lantern’s light seemed to accentuate every line and angle of his handsome face. A face most dear to her of all the faces in the world. And yet she’d hardly noticed him like this in the previous weeks of Ellie‘s colicky belly and Priss’ summer cold.

  The steady drumming of rain on the carriage, the distant rolls of thunder, the clipping of the horses’ hooves. It all seemed so familiar.

  “Beth.” He spoke the word as a breathy whisper as he cupped her face. His thumbs rubbed over the hollows beneath her cheekbones.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her face. His lips touched hers. He pulled away with a chuckle. She opened her eyes and watched as he removed his cravat pin. Then he returned to her and their mouths met, open. The taste of his tongue on hers was the sweetest thing. He cupped her face, tilted her head more to the left and plunged his tongue deeper. Hunger trembled through her; she moaned and clutched his broad shoulders. He pressed her back, down onto the velvet-cushioned seat.

  Wetness began to flow between her legs. Not a slow seeping but a sudden gushing that trickled down the inside of her right leg. What had it been? Three…no four months since she’d felt his strength pressing her, his weight upon her body. She arched her pelvis up to make contact with his. She moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth and vibrating deep in her throat. It sounded like someone else’s voice. It startled her.

  He tore his mouth from hers and lifted his body. Her thin batiste petticoats and fine muslin skirt slid over her silk stockings and up higher and air rushed over her skin until she lay bared to waist. He touched her leg, gliding his hand up the inside of it. Sparks of fire shot through her. She moaned again, this time a needy little mewling sound.

  God, she had to have him inside her. Now. She reached for the buttons on his pantaloons. He brushed her hands away. She felt his wrenching movements as he undid his pantaloons. A moment later he put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her even as he lowered himself to her.

  As he brought his face down to her, his lips brushed her hair. His cock touched her. He groaned. His need pulsed between them yet he began easing himself into her. She could sense his hesitance, his concern to not be rough this first time after the birth. She had no patience with it. She arched her hips up and sheathed him in one fluid, wet move. The sudden sensation of fullness, of being stretched, was divine. Her inner walls spasmed about him repeatedly as pleasure shuddered through her body. His body trembled against hers as though in answer. She wrapped her legs snug about his waist.

  “Fuck me hard,” she whispered.

  “God, Beth, but—”

  “Do it.” She tightened her inner muscles on him. “Just do it.”

  He groaned. Withdrew almost the whole way and then plunged into her. Then he did it again. And again. Faster and harder each time. She lifted her hips, meeting each thrust. Her wetness became audible and that somehow just made her all the more desperate to feel the force of his cock, banging against the mouth of her womb. It had been far too long since she had felt him inside her. Each meeting of their bodies there, at that most extreme point, drove her closer to the edge.

  Her cunt contracted on his hard, pulsing thickness. He laid his hand over her mouth as waves of intense, long-lasting and bone-deep pleasure overtook her. His palm muffled her screams.

  She lay panting. He jerked his cock from within her and the hot surge of wetness against her belly told her he was coming even as he groaned several times.

  “God, oh God—Beth.” His voice carried to her, breathless.

  Something touched her stomach, something fluttery and light. She glanced down. He had laid his handkerchief over her stomach, protecting his evening clothes as he leaned over her and brought his face close to hers. In the dim light, the hair falling over his forehead was dark as midnight.

  “I love you. Christ, how I love you,” he breathed, just inches above her.

  She opened her mouth to reply but his came down on hers fiercely, taking her breath. Her love swelled in her chest until it was a pain, the sweetest of pains. She kissed him back with every ounce of feeling in her soul. Her enthusiasm seemed to set him afire. He grasped the mass of carefully arranged curls at her nape, turning the angle of her head to suit him as he deepened and prolonged the kiss. Her heart raced all over again at his passion. Eventually, she was forced to push away from him and gasp for air.

  He moved away from her and wiped her belly off with the handkerchief.

  Taking a hitching breath, she smiled to herself a bit ruefully. He had sworn that she wouldn’t carry a child for another year or two. He seemed set to keep that promise. She wasn’t so sure. She enjoyed their children. She craved more of them.

  He bent and placed a kiss on her stomach.

  She caressed his hair. “I love you, too.”

  He seemed so unconcerned about the time passing by. He must have told David to drive along the waterfront. She expected him to pull her skirts into place and then tap on the carriage wall. They were running very late for the ball now. But he didn’t. He laid his head down and pressed his cheek to her belly. “That first day, you were so damned gorgeous. As if God had taken every fantasy or dream of beauty that I had ever had and spun them into one living woman. I thought I’d suddenly become the luckiest man in the whole world.” He paused a moment. “But, more than that, you touched my heart.”

  “You touched mine as well but it scared me.”

  “Yes, I was terrified of you—of my feelings for you.”

  Her mouth fell open slightly and she caught her breath. “That’s quite an admission.”

  “Isn’t it?” He laughed softly. “From the first moment I looked into your eyes—your sad, beautiful blue eyes—I was utterly lost.”

  She recalled how scared she had been. How hard she had fought him in those early days. Sudden sympathy for him hit her and maybe a touch of remorse. Just a touch. She caressed the side of his face, enjoying the fresh-shaven feel of his skin. “Oh, my love.”

  “Well, I am not afraid anymore.” He turned his head and flicked his tongue into her navel.

  Joy radiated through her whole being. “Neither am I.”

  Slowly, he kissed his way from her navel to her mons. “And I am most definitely the luckiest man in the world.”

  His tongue touched her wet folds. Fire raced through her cunt, up into her belly and then into her blood. She closed her eyes and arched into his loving mouth. She was definitely the happiest lady in the world.

  Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

  Grey’s Lady

  Natasha Blackthorne

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Philadelphia, PA

  Spring, 1812

  Grey couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Philadelphian women were the cream of the Republic, but damn if this one didn’t exceed all previous definitions. Curling wisps of hair escaped from her indigo bonnet and trailed down her graceful neck. He’d never seen hair that colour
—like champagne shimmering in the moonlight.

  She looked up, giving him his first full sight of her face. Sky blue eyes, full of aching, longing…and something else. Abject sadness. Haunting.

  Something caught in his chest. Something reminiscent of pleurisy. Well, it wasn’t surprising. Philadelphia air was notoriously insalubrious and the day was oppressively damp. He blinked, glancing away. Was he losing his wits? Haunting eyes? What romantic nonsense. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was getting a fever.

  He glanced at his pocket watch. God, time was crawling. He’d arranged this series of lectures to entice potential investors, and last week in Boston had been most profitable. However, today, Mason’s Bookstore was packed with adolescent boys who sat with their mouths agape listening to local captains recount tales of privateering glory. His own speech on how and why to invest in a voyage had been met with yawns and bobbing heads. What a waste of an afternoon.

  Shifting in his seat, he sensed her gaze. Lingering. Burning him. Against his will, he turned back to her. Those eyes seemed to reach across the room, directly into him, to touch his emptiness.

  What a fanciful notion. His wits must be addled.

  She didn’t drop her gaze, as a modest woman might. Instead, she appraised him, boldly weighing and measuring. A hint of her tongue flirted along the seam of her pink lips. Her eyes smouldered as if she’d read his every erotic longing and fantasy in his face.

  He shifted again, trying to adjust for the heated blood rushing into his cock. The corners of her mouth turned up and humour glinted in her eyes. Clearly, she found his interest amusing. She found him amusing.

  By God, then, I’ll have her beneath me, writhing and begging me to fuck her.

  Damned if he wouldn’t.

  The fervour of his thoughts shocked him back to his senses. People were talking and laughing and moving around. The lecture was over. He got up to leave, but he found himself standing at the windows, transfixed by the rain sheeting down.