by Laura Landon
“It’s all right, sweeting,” he whispered as he placed his cheek against the top of her head. “You deserve to cry your tears.”
“I thought Polly and Thomas were dead. I thought I’d lost my family. I thought I was alone.”
Barnaby kissed the top of her head. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone. Not as long as I’m alive.”
She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes. The emotion she saw warmed her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for giving me back my family.”
He didn’t answer. He kept his gaze locked with hers, then slowly lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
Millicent was hungry for his kisses. Hungry for the feel of him against her. She welcomed his deepening kisses with willing abandon.
She wanted him, was desperate to match his demands with the passion growing within her. She wanted him. She loved him, even though she wasn’t sure when or how it had happened. She thought perhaps it might have been when he’d first arrived at the safe house, alone and injured. Or maybe when he’d kissed her that first time. No matter when it was, she could no longer deny the depth of her feelings for him.
He kissed her again, then again. His mouth opened atop hers, and she followed his lead. There was nothing he could offer that she wouldn’t accept. Nothing he might ask of her that she wouldn’t willingly give.
She moved with him to the bed because that’s where she knew this night would lead her. Cool air hit her burning body when her robe and gown slid to the floor.
She lay back on the bed and he came over her.
His clothes were gone, as were hers, and she opened her arms to draw him to her.
The feel of his flesh against hers was magical. His touch as he skimmed her body set her on fire. No matter how much he gave, she wanted more. He was the only man in the world she wanted to introduce her to the emotions that bound a man to a woman, that would make them one.
He moved over her, moved in her, and carried her to a place she never knew existed. She’d known what would happen between a man and a woman, yet she hadn’t known at all. Nothing had prepared her for the entrancing journey she was taking.
She rode waves with him, clung to him when he carried her to an unfathomable release, then tightened her arms around him when he leaped with her into that crystal moment.
He placed his mouth over hers to muffle the cry he knew would escape her, then rode the crest until he shattered atop her.
She gathered him to her and held him in her arms. She ran her hands over his body, memorizing every part of him, taking note of the contours of the body that had given her such pleasure.
She knew without a doubt that he was the only man she would take unto herself. He was the only man who could ever make her feel the way she did.
She ran her hands over the corded muscles that rippled beneath her fingers. Her attraction to him was part physical, but there was something more. Something more powerful. Something that grew more intense with every passing moment. She loved him. Loved him with every breath she took, with every part of her being.
He lay atop her for several moments, then lifted his head and looked at her. Passion still lit his eyes. He lowered his head and kissed her.
“Are you all right?” he whispered when he lifted his head to look at her again.
She smiled. “Exceedingly. Perfectly perfect.”
He rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms. “Yes, you are. You are more than perfect.” He traced his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm. “Do you regret what just happened?”
She cupped her palm to his cheek. “I could never regret what happened. Ever. I’ve known for a long time that this would happen. Since I realized I loved you.”
He pulled her closer to him. “Loving me isn’t wise, Millicent.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s too late to change how I feel. A lifetime too late.”
He rolled onto his back, and she rested her head on his chest. His heart thundered beneath her ear, and she wondered if her words had frightened him. “You don’t have to tell me you love me,” she reassured him. “I don’t need you to say the words. I don’t even need you to love me in return.”
“You would have given yourself to me even if you didn’t think I cared for you?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I know you care for me. That’s been obvious for a long time.”
“But you aren’t sure that I love you.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. How could she tell him that whether or not he loved her made no difference? “You don’t have to say you love me.”
He lowered his gaze, but she didn’t capture it. She placed her head back on his chest and reveled in the feel of him touching her, holding her. The feel of his flesh conforming to hers. Didn’t he know that he was the only man she would ever love?
“Would you kiss me again?” she asked.
Barnaby shifted and kissed her. Then he rolled her onto her back and came over her for a second time.
She gathered him to her with the desperation of a woman finding her lost self. She accepted his lovemaking with the impetuosity of a lover who knew she might never experience passion like this again.
. . .
Barnaby barely slept after he returned from Millicent’s room. He couldn’t help but relive their lovemaking.
She loved him. She’d freely admitted that she did.
Barnaby lay on his back and rested his head on his crossed arms. He stared at the ceiling as if the answers to his questions were hidden in its molded panels. He should have responded that he loved her, too, but the words wouldn’t come. It wouldn’t have been a lie, yet he found it impossible to say the words.
He searched for the reason why. Perhaps it was because he’d never said the words before and he found it difficult to admit the depth of his feelings for the first time.
Perhaps the reason was that their futures were so precarious. Neither of them were guaranteed to survive. But the bigger question was, where did things go from here? What did his discoveries mean? He’d found where Radburn kept the ammunition. He’d found Millicent’s brother and sister. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t connect the two points. In fact, they contradicted each other.
If Radburn’s intention was to sell the explosives to a foreign power that wanted to overthrow a ruling government, why hadn’t he done so already? Why hadn’t the deal been concluded? What was he waiting for?
If Radburn’s purpose in marrying Millicent was to acquire Cliffside, why had he saved her brother the night of the fire? He had to know that would only further complicate his plans.
Barnaby threw off the covers and bolted to his feet. There were so many unanswered questions, and none of the answers he came up with made sense.
The sun was making an appearance, and he dressed for the day, even though it was doubtful Millicent or Radburn would be up yet. Perhaps he’d eat an early breakfast, then go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air would clear his mind and give him the answers he needed.
The house was quiet as he made his way to the breakfast room. The smell of coffee greeted his senses. He looked into the room, then stopped.
“Good morning, Mr. Compton.”
“Lady Carlisle,” Barnaby greeted with a nod. “I thought I would be the first one up and about this morning.”
“I’m an early riser. I became accustomed to waking early when my husband was taken ill. I found that was my only free time during the day, and I enjoyed watching the sun rise.”
“I’ve always thought early morning was the best time of the day, too. Do you mind if I join you, or would you prefer to eat in private?”
“By all means, please join me. I’d enjoy the company.”
Barnaby filled a plate from the sideboard, then took the chair opposite Lady Carlisle. “Have you known Lord Radburn long?”
A slow smile lifted the corners of Lady Carlisle’s mouth. “Yes, we’ve known each other forever. At least since we were
children. Our estates bordered one another—Radburn Oaks and Carlisle Hall.”
“Then you know Radburn as well as anyone. Perhaps better than most.”
The countess lowered the cup from which she was about to take a sip of tea and gave Barnaby her full attention. “Pardon my bluntness, Mr. Compton, but is there a reason for your curiosity?”
Barnaby continued eating as if he weren’t bothered that she’d seen through his line of questioning. “Actually, there is. Since I am Lady Millicent’s closest living relative, and it is my responsibility to make sure she doesn’t regret the marriage to which she has agreed, I feel I am obligated to find out as much as possible about Lord Radburn before the wedding.”
Lady Carlisle smiled. “Then let me assure you that you have no need for concern. Lord Radburn will make your cousin an excellent husband.” She reached for her cup and took a sip. “Since we are discussing a topic as delicate as Lord Radburn’s character, may I ask your honest opinion as to Lady Millicent’s sincerity in devoting her life to loving Lord Radburn?”
Barnaby finished chewing a bite of sausage. “I would like to assure you that Lady Millicent’s intentions are honorable, but in truth I cannot. We have not discussed her feelings for Lord Radburn. I can only assume they are sincere, since she accepted his offer of marriage, and I have never known my cousin to be contrary.”
“Yes. Of course. I should expect no less,” she answered, then placed her napkin on the table beside her plate.
Barnaby finished his remaining food, then lifted his cup. “Do you have plans for this morning, my lady?”
“No. I thought I might get a book and sit out in the garden to read.”
“I intended to go for a walk until the rest of the house awakens. Would you care to join me?”
“That sounds grand,” she answered eagerly. “I shall get my shawl.”
Barnaby rose, then helped Lady Carlisle from her chair. She left for only a moment and returned with a shawl wrapped about her shoulders. Barnaby led her through the house and out the French doors that led onto the terrace. From there, they walked down the steps and followed the stone pathway through the center of the flower garden.
“Tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Compton,” she said as they strolled past a variety of flowering shrubs.
“Oh, there’s not much to tell. I’m an only child. My parents were older when they had me, and they doted on me sinfully.”
“I can’t imagine you being spoiled.”
“Oh, but I was. You can imagine my shock when I enlisted in Her Majesty’s army and went to war. I thought it would be this grand adventure, but it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be.”
“Was it as horrible as was reported in the papers?”
“Worse,” Barnaby admitted, then paused. “But enough of such disturbing topics. What about you? Tell me about your life.”
“I’m afraid my past is quite boring.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine that. You are a very beautiful lady. I can see you taking Society by the tail. I’d wager you broke many a heart before you married.”
She smiled. “I appreciate your flattery, but I hardly broke any hearts.”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“If I have the option of not answering.”
“Of course,” Barnaby responded. His estimation of her independence and intelligence rose by several degrees. “You said your husband was nearing his eightieth year when he died. Why did you marry someone so much older than yourself?”
For a moment, Barnaby thought she intended to not answer him. But at last she did.
“I learned at an early age that there are certain situations in life over which we have no control. This was one of those situations.”
“I see,” Barnaby answered.
Lady Carlisle dropped her hand from the crook of Barnaby’s arm and stopped in the middle of the stone pathway. “Please, Mr. Compton. Do not pity me or think ill of my father. It wasn’t his fault his investments failed.”
“I would never pity you, my lady. I would only admire your courage and your devotion to your family.”
Lady Carlisle lowered her gaze.
After a few moments, Barnaby lifted Lady Carlisle’s hand and looped it through his arm again. They continued their walk down the path. “Was Lord Radburn the only gentleman you left with a broken heart?”
She stopped again. This time, however, Barnaby urged her toward a roomy bench that overlooked a small pond in the center of the garden.
“Don’t be embarrassed, my lady. His feelings were obvious by the way he looked at you when you arrived yesterday. You were once someone very special to him. As I believe he was to you.”
“You have no need to be concerned, Mr. Compton. I have not come here to cause trouble or disrupt your cousin’s wedding.”
Barnaby relaxed against the back of the scrolled bench. “I am not concerned, Lady Carlisle. Not at all.”
His admission surprised her. Her eyebrows lifted gracefully.
“What kind of man was Radburn when you first met him?”
She looked at the clasped hands in her lap. “He was much the same as he is now. Even as a child. He was serious and thoughtful, resolute, and always a perfect gentleman. He’s extremely intelligent, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that. Quite intelligent. And inventive.”
He wasn’t sure she caught his meaning when he referred to Radburn as inventive, but he let it pass. “Did you know Lord Radburn’s parents?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“What were they like?”
“I’m not sure I should offer my opinion, Mr. Compton.”
“It hardly matters, my lady. Since they are both deceased. Your opinion can’t offend either of them.”
A look of surprise widened her eyes. “Who told you Lord Radburn’s parents were deceased?”
“No one, actually. I only assumed they were from certain comments Lord Radburn made.”
“Lord Radburn’s father died several years ago. Perhaps three or even four. His mother, however, is still alive.”
“Will she be attending the wedding?”
Lady Carlisle hesitated. “That remains to be seen.”
Chapter 15
Stuff and nonsense!
Millicent sat at the breakfast table with Radburn. Their conversation was stilted and difficult. It was purely ridiculous, as if neither of them could think of a topic to discuss. Her usually agile brain completely abandoned her when faced with the brooding silences that persisted at Radburn’s table. She didn’t doubt that this was the way it would be for them if they married—beginning and ending their days together in strained silence.
Millicent finished her tea, then lifted her head at the sound of voices nearing the breakfast room. Recognition made her smile. The voices belonged to Barnaby and Lady Carlisle. And they were laughing.
The couple entered the room, and Radburn rose to his feet. “Good morning, Lady Carlisle. Mr. Compton.”
“Good morning, Radburn,” Barnaby responded jovially. “Millicent.”
Barnaby showed Lady Carlisle to a chair, then sat in the chair next to her. A footman quickly poured the new arrivals a cup of coffee. “I’m glad we returned before you finished,” he said when the footman exited the room.
“Returned?” Radburn said, taking his seat.
“Yes, Marcus,” Lady Carlisle answered. “We went for a walk. Watching the sun rise was as invigorating as always.”
“Wasn’t the air a bit chilly, my lady?”
His protective tone brought a smile to Lady Carlisle’s face. “I had a shawl, Marcus. I was adequately protected.”
“Besides,” Barnaby added, “our walk gave Lady Carlisle and your humble servant an opportunity to become better acquainted.”
Millicent wasn’t sure if Barnaby’s insinuation was intentional, but the result was obvious. Radburn was overly possessive where Lady Carli
sle was concerned. He didn’t appreciate the idea that Lady Carlisle and Barnaby enjoyed each other’s company as much as it seemed they had.
“Are you free today?” Millicent asked Radburn, “or are you shackled to your desk?”
“No, my lady. I am completely at your disposal. What plans have you made for our entertainment?”
“Since the weather is so perfect, I thought perhaps we might enjoy a picnic beside the stream.”
“That sounds delightful,” Lady Carlisle said.
“Yes, it does,” Radburn added with a pleased expression. “I’ll inform Childers to make the arrangements.”
Everyone at the table finished their tea and coffee, then went to their rooms to dress for the out of doors. In less than an hour, they met in the front hall. Childers handed Radburn and Barnaby baskets that Millicent later discovered contained blankets to spread on the ground, several bottles of wine, and a platter of apples, cheese, and freshly baked bread. The meal would arrive later, but this would suffice for now.
They walked through an open meadow, wandered about an old folly, laughing at its overzealous architecture, then walked on toward the distant sound of gently rushing water. Radburn led them to a mammoth shade tree and set down his basket.
“The view here is extraordinary,” Lady Carlisle exclaimed as she turned a circle to appreciate the spot where they would enjoy their picnic.
“If I built a folly here, I would never allow it to fall to ruin,” Millicent asserted, sitting on a blanket Radburn spread for them. “And look over there. Can’t you just see a summer house? We could step in the stream and float all the way through Westview Park to Cliffside. That’s my family seat, you know.”
Lady Carlisle looked surprised. “Your family’s estate borders Westview Park? But of course, you and Marcus didn’t know each other from your childhood, I gather.”
“No, we certainly did not,” Radburn interceded as he settled on the blanket next to Millicent with a rather courtly flip of his coattails. “Westview wasn’t one of my family’s holdings when I was young. My family didn’t acquire it until a few years ago. Most of my youth was spent at Radburn Oaks a few hours north of London, or with my mother in France.”
