Lord Carnall and Miss Innocent (The Friendhip Series Book 7)

by Julia Donner

  Her tone conveyed that this offer to escort her to services was a form of conciliation. Apparently Hensley didn’t know that while the students were marched to the village church, Ana made use of the time for chores she wished done with no one looking. Hensley also didn’t know that Carnall fetched his sisters on Sunday to drive them to the Catholic service and lingered afterward at the school. The groom Carnall left behind to care for his sisters’ horses discovered that the headmistress worked on the Sabbath. That she never took a rest rankled as much as Hensley’s attentions. The squire glared his annoyance and visibly bristled with contention.

  Under her breath, Ana entreated the squire again. That his proud Tatiana felt it necessary to placate a bully galled him so severely his horse nervously flicked her ears. Carnall relaxed his grip on the reins and tension in his legs.

  Unhappy but obedient, Hensley handed over the gun to Ana and mounted. With a touch to his hat brim to her and a scowling nod to Carnall, Hensely cantered away.

  Ana started walking up the hill, refusing his offer to ride with him or alone on Ghost. He dismounted to walk by her side. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she trudged up the hillside, skirts held up in one hand, the heavy gun in the other. She wore a man’s hacking jacket, brown wool with capacious pockets, no hat and well-worn gloves. Since it was obvious that she was not in the best of moods, he waited until they were on the way down the other side of the hill before speaking. Unfortunately, the delay hadn’t been long enough to rid him of the annoyance of the encounter not going well, and he let jealousy reign in the stead of common sense.

  “Do you often make assignations with neighbors in the shrubbery?”

  She didn’t answer but her narrowed eyes slanted a glare his way. He grabbed her arm to keep her from a fall when her foot skidded on a slick patch of turf. Sheep had chewed the grass down to the roots. A clump of dirty white bodies paused to warily eye the intruders then trotted to the far end of the rock enclosure.

  Carnall allowed Ana time to march off her temper, while he constructed his next encounter with Hensley. And he didn’t doubt that would happen. The squire nourished a yen for the headmistress. Lines would need to be clearly drawn. He wouldn’t use the obvious one, of course, that of having a title whereas the squire did not. Perhaps condescension mixed with an ugly undertone of a challenge would suffice, since Hensley seemed to like subtext. He toyed with the allegory of instructing Hensley to move his Merinos to another pasture. An array of insulting suggestions regarding sheep evaporated as they approached the stile. Time to test the waters.

  “I wish you would allow me to carry the gun. They get dashed heavy after a while.”

  She still said nothing but emitted a startled squeak of protest when he dropped the reins, gathered her up in his arms, and lifted her over the stile. He swiftly mounted, trotted Ghost away from the rock barrier, and sent the mare flying over it. Ana hadn’t bothered to wait. He caught up with her and dismounted to match her furious stride.

  “Tatiana, you’re going to have to speak to me at some point.”

  Sounding bitter and impatient, she asked, “What did you wish to discuss about Charlotte and Mary Kathleen?”

  He’d already devised an answer to that earlier. “That we’re pleased they’ve taken so well to the school. And for my part, why didn’t you correct me?

  “Concerning what?”

  “Why persist with the fiction that you’re married? And why didn’t you bring Torquil?”

  She said nothing for a time. He waited while she stewed over an answer. Damned if he was going to let her take the easy road and avoid his question. He was about to press the point when she grudgingly answered.

  “He punctured his foot on something.”

  “And the other? The pretense of marriage?”

  She snapped, “To lend weight to my position, of course. And there is no reason why I should explain personal issues with the family members of my students.”

  He couldn’t suppress a soft laugh and lowered his voice to tease. “Even though I’m shagging said headmistress?”

  When she stopped and stared, eyes blazing, his heart stilled then started to thump. When she discarded her protective shell of dignity and revealed the passion boiling underneath, he lost every shred of circumspect behavior. The only thing that made sense was delving into that cauldron of prohibited emotions, tearing off the lid of all she ruthlessly repressed.

  He was catapulted back to the barn, the feel and memory of her under him, head thrown back into the straw, the soul-deep moan breathed from her mouth into his, and thrilling grip of her body. When she’d finally allowed herself the freedom, she’d thrust up to meet his every stroke. The recollection rushed heat into his groin and renewed his drive to force her to tell him her secrets, make her his, spoil her as a woman should be spoiled. What did this strong, vital woman yearn for in the night? Had she admitted to herself that there existed an irrevocable bond between them, not only sexual, but something finer and rare? Did she again long to be led to the precipice of desperation, to join him at the edge of incomprehensible pleasure? But her discipline overruled the moment. He watched her withdrawal, a resolution not to fight with him or give in to her emotions.

  She spun away and strode into the copse. He waited until they were hidden in the forest’s center before reaching for her arm and swinging her around. By then, his own temper had risen, firing a dark desire gone rampant. It would have been easier to rein in the crackling passion if not for the way he sensed her wanting the same.

  She glared down at his grip on her arm. When she raised her gaze, a fierce challenge hard darkened her eyes. He beat back the urge to leap on her, capture the flesh that kept him awake nights, brush tender kisses over what little he’d been able to see of her firm, sleek body. This craving he had for her rendered him senseless, ignited a state of mind already stretched to breaking. It even temporarily blotted out the outrage over what had been done to his sister, his drive for revenge. The woman who now stood before him, so stalwart and determined, bedraggled and yet imperious, set his mind tumbling into chaos and his heart pounding.

  He held on when she tried to yank free her arm. He threw the truth at her defiance. “You lied to me, Tatiana.”

  “I did no such thing. Take your hand off me, Carnall.”

  “Why are you afraid of me?”

  She thrust up her chin. “I’m not.”

  He pulled her closer and said against the taut line of her lips. “Dammit, you should have told me you were a virgin.”

  Chapter 11

  All thought evaporated from Ana’s head. Her defiance wavered. A chill invaded her face when she felt it drain of color, then the flare with the blush that followed. She refused to cringe under the knowing stare that pinned her in place. It came rushing back to her then, the memory of the aftermath in the barn, the alarm she’d avoided remembering, that moment when he’d paused while lowering her skirts, the hunger in his eyes as he savored her nakedness followed by a puzzled frown. She discovered the reason for his puzzlement when she returned to her room. Blood smears on her under shift and petticoat had left the embarrassing evidence.

  There was always the hope that he’d been too carried away by his own pleasure to notice and the possibility that he hadn’t discerned the twinge of discomfort, the brief resistance during his entry. It hadn’t hurt, as she’d been led to believe it would. Any pain she might have felt was instantly forgotten, washed away in the pleasure that followed. He’d commanded her body, driven her to the revelation that he wouldn’t relent until she succumbed in every way. The recollection of those few moments of ecstasy and perfect satiation always evoked a rush of warmth and renewed desire. The mere thought of it drained her of resistance.

  She’d held fast to the hope that he assumed she had started her courses, but now she knew that a man like Carnall could never be so easily fooled. About anything. She must deal with his sense of gentlemanly honor. There was also her own driving impulse to throw herself again
st him, put her mouth on lips that had whispered wonderful, shameful things in her ear. She yearned to hear his passion-roughened voice again, the hoarse groan of his completion, the heat of his seed inside, the way he made her feel cherished and devoured.

  He stared at her now and she saw it all, what was going to happen, that she wouldn’t refuse. Negligent of his mount, he tossed the reins over a nearby bush and stepped closer to her. She retreated, swallowing the need to weep in anticipation. She couldn’t resist the feverish yearning to experience again the thrill of him taking her, forcing her not to think and only to feel. She wanted it, needed it like the air to breathe. Even so, she retreated until her back bumped into a tree.

  He flung his hat and gloves on the leaf-littered ground. “You won’t run from this, Tatiana. We need this.”

  If he had said that he needed it, or that she needed this, that would have given her the will to halt what was about to happen, but he had said we. Whatever it was they shared, the bond felt of this world and yet not. Their attraction was a tangible force, an entity in itself and within them. He took her to an enticing place where there were no worries, only blinding pleasure. A fine quivering took possession of her body, a call she felt too weary to resist or deny.

  He took the gun from her hand and set it on the ground, grabbing the damp hem of her dress as he stood. Cold air brushed her bared thighs, then the rub of twill on her chilled skin. His knuckles brushed her hipbone when he unfastened his breeches buttons and pushed down the fall. His ebony stare challenged her, dared her to stop him. Then warm fingers went exactly where she wanted them. She inhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes to savor the rippling pleasure, unable to stop her body from moving with his touch.

  Husky and dark, he whispered into her panting mouth, “Sweet Christ, you should see how you look. I dream of this every night, ready to burst out of my skin. You can’t fight this, mo chuisle. Neither can I. Think of it, every day being together, doing this. All night, loving you with everything I’ve got. My mouth where my hand is, until you’re mindless.”

  When she tried to shake her head, he stopped her with an open-mouthed kiss. She soaked in the wonder of it until her brain took control. She jerked her head to one side to recapture herself, but he intensified the movement that held her transfixed. Unable to focus, she pressed the back of her head into the tree’s sharp-ridged bark. A moan gathered deep inside and glided up to an escape.

  His low laugh of victory helped open heavy eyelids, to bask in his expression of admiration and desire. Where was her backbone? Where had her resolve fled? He shifted and the heat of his erection nudged her stomach. She clenched the hard muscle of his arms to stop the urge to reach down, experience the feel of that vital length in her palm, direct him where she wanted him, inside and filling her emptiness with his strength.

  He shuddered against her. “You’re so delicious. We’re so perfect together.”

  “This must stop.” She shook her head, hating that her voice sounded so shaky, that her body trembled and moved with the slow, rhythmic movements of his hips.

  “No, Tatiana. No stopping. This is only the beginning. I’m going to learn everything that makes you beg for more. Like this.”

  She choked down a moan. Through clenched teeth, she said, “I will never accept a carte blanche. Never.”

  His laugh vibrated over her flesh, sent tingles all the way down to her soles. Sharp teeth nipped her earlobe. “What makes you think I’d offer you that?”

  “Let go of me, Carnall. Damn you, let go!”

  He found an exquisite spot with his fingertips that made her gasp and cry out. She shoved against his shoulders, hating him, needing to weep, to hurt him and maybe herself, but he took away his hand and used a knee to push her legs wider. His hands delved under her dress to capture her bottom and lift. The blunt heat of what she longed to fill the emptiness paused at her entrance, teasing with a gentle nudge.

  “I love it that you’re so tall. I can look into your eyes when I do this.”

  She held her breath, felt him watch her face as he slid inside, high and exactly where she needed. He groaned into her hair. She could no longer hold back a sob of relief and reached up to clutch his shoulders and lift her knees higher to bring him deeper.

  Fingers that had been firm and gentle now grasped her bottom, pulled her into his thrusts. She clutched his shoulders to help, pressed her face against the scent of his hair.

  The rasp of his voice filled her head. “Marry me, Tatiana. Say you will. Say my name. Say it! Say, yes, Dominic, I’ll marry you.”

  Her eyes flew open. Marriage? Reality and its problems broke through the passion. When she turned her head away and squirmed to resist, he adjusted his stance and used his chest and hips to press her more firmly against the tree. The reposition put exquisite pressure on that sensitive place between her legs. The sudden contact sent a jolt of pleasure radiating everywhere. He increased the pressure, creating a blinding streak that held her still. His wicked knowledge paused to allow the sensations to travel throughout her body, to lean back to study her reaction.

  Beckoning release enticed her to respond. She could no longer resist and clamped her legs tighter around his waist, seared to the core. He began a slow rhythm that made her desperate to scream, to beg for release. She clenched her teeth as he crooned a sensual litany in her ear of all the ways he could make her delirious. The frightening need that ruled her from within kept building, coiling tighter until he had her begging, saying anything to have it over with, just to have reprieve. And when it came rippling and rolling through her in waves, his moan against her neck sent her higher.

  Wind whistling through the bare branches overhead brought her back to the present. They were in the woods where anyone could come upon them, a thought so appalling it wasn’t to be borne. Pressed against the tree, retreat was impossible. She turned her head away and pushed on his arms.

  Gentle and cautious, he helped her to stand. He turned away to refasten the fall on his breeches. While she surreptitiously shook out her skirts, he smoothed a palm over his hair and swept up his hat and gloves. She strode away from the scene, scanning for possible walkers in the woods. What if one of her students had seen her or Hensley rode back to find her? They were still on his property. The exquisite horror, the idea that they might have been seen, propelled her faster along the path.

  The thump of horse’s hooves came from behind, merged with the tread of booted footsteps. When they cleared the copse, he moved up to walk beside her. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he’d draped the reins over the horse’s neck. The mare plodded placidly in his wake. He carried the gun in his left hand.

  How could she have forgotten her uncle’s best fowling piece? Impatience with her weakness and insupportable embarrassment flushed heat into her cheeks, made her want to shriek out her annoyance with this entire, ridiculous situation.

  He said with no preamble and in a tone that would tolerate no refusal, “We’ll be married in the local church after the banns are announced.”

  “Rather presumptuous on your part, I should think. It’s not a Catholic chapel. Your religion has strict rules when it comes to Protestants.”

  “We’ll have done with the English side of it and worry about mine later.”

  “But I never said I would marry you.”

  He laughed. “Oh, yes you did, Ana. Over and over. ‘Anything, Dominic. Please Dominic. Harder, Dominic.’ I won’t be forgetting those words anytime soon.”

  Horrified, she choked out, “I most certainly did not! I would never—”

  He took her arm and swung her around to face him. His eyes flashed victory and something deeper, more terrifying, because she loved that hungry look. He captured her jaw when she started to look away.

  “Tatiana Worth, it’s truth time. You allowed me to think you were a married woman and not an innocent. You will marry me and I’m going to finally get you in a bed where I can have and visit every inch of you.”

  “I ca
nnot marry you for such a reason. It’s…blasphemous.”

  “Sex is not blasphemous. It’s a natural event created by God for procreation, if nothing else. And if you must have excuses for contracting an excellent match, think about the well-deserved rest you will be allowed, at least when I’m not in or on you. Don’t pull away, and stop pretending. I’ve seen and felt the condition of your hands. You lack funds for the proper amount of servants to run the academy and have economized by doing menial tasks. You’re not sleeping well and have an edge to your personality that makes you appear ready to snap any moment. You’ re exhausted. I can and I will relieve you of every one of your difficulties, even before you can enumerate them.”

  He stepped closer, his features a mask of determination. “Make no mistake, madam. I have lain with a virgin, something I’ve never done before. You are now Lady Carnall, no matter how long or loudly you protest. It is done, and if we cannot find common ground, we will surely have a miserable marriage. But I can assure you of one thing, it won’t be in bed. We’re going to revel in every moment of the physical side of it.”

  His gaze swept over her, a visual inventory of all he had planned. One side of his mouth twitched up into a half-grin that made her quiver. After handing her the gun, he left her standing alone in the pasture, staring at his retreating back and the swaying rump of the mare following his stride.

  Of all the things she should be worrying about, the school, the incessant pleadings of her brother, stacks of unpaid bills—the only thing she could envision were the ways Carnall promised to make her feel. She’d scarcely been able to contend with the dizzying impact of the two times they’d made love, and he’d said it would get better, that there was more.

  Scalding truth flooded through every fiber of her being. What was she to do now that he ruled her body and stole her ability to resist? One voice warned her to run, and the other whispered to succumb.