by Jo Beverley
On that terrible night two weeks ago, Silverton had been eager to remove the sisters from the scene of their captivity. Both Meredith and Annabel were exhausted, and no one had relished the thought of the long trip back to London. After a hurried consultation with Robert and Trask, Silverton had decided they should drive to Swallow Hill, which could be reached in less than two hours. Meredith had insisted that two footmen ride ahead to warn the servants and to ensure that Nora Burnley had departed the estate before they arrived.
Meredith and Annabel emerged from the dank asylum into the clean air of a cloudless and star-filled night. The storm that had threatened earlier in the day had dissipated before a bracing wind that swept everything before it. Torches flickered in the courtyard as the grooms hurried to prepare the traveling coach for their departure.
Meredith started to climb into the carriage when she remembered that she had not yet reclaimed her bracelet. Coming to a sudden halt, she pleaded with Silverton to fetch it for her immediately. He was impatient to be gone, however, and would only promise to send one of the footmen to retrieve it. Meredith stubbornly refused to take another step. Silverton finally spun on his heel and, muttering to himself, stalked over to the barn where Jacob and Isaac were being held.
He returned to her shortly thereafter, his face set and grim. When Meredith asked him what had transpired, he simply shook his head and handed her the bracelet. She threw her arms around his neck and planted a grateful kiss on his cheek. Silverton had allowed a tiny smile to touch his lips as he returned her embrace, apparently satisfied with the reward for fulfilling his lady’s request.
Now Meredith lay quietly in her bed, gazing at the bracelet and trying not to think too hard about the cousin and uncle who had betrayed her. Try as she might, though, she was unable to repress a small, bitter sigh. Silverton moved his head against her breast as his arm tightened around her hips. She wriggled under his weight.
“My lord, you are squashing me,” she whispered, not sure if he was awake.
She felt a moist puff of warm air against her nipple as he blew out a small but exasperated breath.
“Meredith, when are you going to stop calling me my lord?”
“When you stop squashing me.”
He rolled over and onto his back, winding one arm around her waist and pulling her to his side. She snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she stroked the smooth muscles of his broad chest.
Meredith had never felt so cherished or so safe. But she still couldn’t seem to let go the dark memory of Jacob and the searing hatred he had revealed to her.
“Why does it still trouble you, my love?”
She tilted her head up to look at her husband, startled as always by his uncanny ability to read her thoughts. His cobalt eyes were gentle, and she couldn’t help reaching up to stroke his firm jaw, rough with early morning bristle. He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips.
She sighed again as she snuggled closer to his warmth. “I know it’s foolish, but I can’t help thinking about it.”
Silverton settled her more comfortably into the crook of his arm. “You’re safe now, sweetheart.” He tilted her chin up and dropped a soft kiss onto her lips. “I promise. They can never hurt you again.”
Trask and his servants had swiftly bundled Jacob and Isaac on board one of the earl’s merchant ships bound for New South Wales. Silverton had believed the sooner they left the country, the better. Surprisingly, only Annabel had protested the plan, outraged that her uncle and cousin would escape the full wrath of the law. But Robert had eventually convinced his fiancée that penniless exile was far preferable to the scandal of a public trial, particularly for the sake of General and Lady Stanton. Annabel grudgingly agreed, and the Burnleys had shipped out from Bristol under close guard, never to be seen again.
“You don’t think they’ll ever try to come back, do you?” Meredith hated to even ask that question, but the idea had haunted her dreams for the last two weeks.
“If they do, they’re dead men,” her husband responded in a casual voice that she found rather chilling.
He said nothing more, and Meredith assumed his reticence signaled the end of the discussion about her criminally inclined relatives. She let the matter drop. After all, it was her first morning as a married woman, and she really should make an effort to find a more cheerful topic of conversation. Meredith tried to absorb once more the idea that she was the new Marchioness of Silverton and that the man lying next to her would be there every morning for the rest of her life.
“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve to be this happy.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Silverton turned on his side to look at her, his lips parting slightly as if in disbelief. Meredith could think of nothing to say that would justify her remark, so she smiled apologetically instead. He groaned and dropped his head back on the pillow, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling. She had a sneaking suspicion he sought patience from the heavens.
“Well, it’s true,” she defended herself. “It just seems to be the way I think.”
He moved swiftly, rolling her onto her back and coming down heavily on top of her. “Meredith, I told you once before—you are the best person I’ve ever known. You deserve everything I can give you, and more. What will it take to convince you?”
She studied his narrowed eyes, pretending to seriously ponder the question.
“Well…I suppose you’ll simply have to show me.” Meredith wrapped her arms around his neck. “Preferably when we’re alone.” She nuzzled his mouth with her lips. “Like we are now.”
A passionate heat flared in his eyes, and for the next little while she knew nothing but the feel of his mouth and hands roaming over her body. In less time than she could have imagined, he brought her panting to ecstatic completion, any tiny doubts still lingering in her heart obliterated in the dazzling fire that blazed between them.
When they again rested in each other’s arms, rather more breathless than they had been before, Meredith suddenly remembered a question she had meant to ask him yesterday.
“Stephen?”
“Hmmm?”
“How did you manage to convince your mother to behave so beautifully at our wedding?”
She felt rather than heard the low rumble of laughter in his chest. “Oh, her impeccable behavior might have something to do with the new townhouse I promised to build her in London.”
Meredith gave a small snort. “I should have known it had nothing to do with me.”
“Don’t despair, my love. You have, after all, achieved a great victory in bringing the general so thoroughly around to your side. I only wish you could have heard the thundering lecture he gave my mother when she tried to complain to him about our marriage.”
Meredith still found herself amazed by the general’s impassioned defense. He had softened to her considerably after Lady Stanton’s illness, but now he seemed to regard her in much the same light as he did Annabel. He had been greatly affected by the kidnapping and had been almost pathetically grateful to Silverton for rescuing his granddaughter and Meredith.
“He wants me to give him one of my paintings. I must say, I can’t imagine that any one of them won’t shock him. He has such conservative tastes.”
Silverton propped himself up on his elbow, a teasing smile playing around the corners of his lips. “I know exactly which painting to give to him.”
She stared back, puzzled by his reaction.
“You know,” he prompted. She could hear the mischief in his voice. “Robert suggested it to him several weeks ago when Aunt Georgina was recuperating from her illness. Don’t you remember? Your painting of the Minotaur in the maze—the one that Robert said looks just like the general.”
Meredith’s eyes widened in shock, and then she burst into laughter.
His smile stretched into a grin, and then he was laughing, too. He swooped down and pulled her into his arms. Meredith’s laughter continued to build inside her,
fed by the sheer joy of the perfect, timeless moment.
The sound of their joy drifted across the room and out through the open window. Meredith heard a swallow’s trill exuberantly echo their laughter as the small bird wheeled up from the lavender-scented garden to greet the dawning of the bright August morn.
Summer, she decided as Silverton’s mouth covered hers, was surely the happiest season of them all.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
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Compilation copyright © 2011 by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Copyright © 1996 by Jo Beverley Pub. Inc.
Forbidden Affections
Copyright © 2011 by Vanessa Kelly
The Pleasure of a Younger Lover
Copyright © 2011 by Sally MacKenzie
The Naked Prince
Copyright © 2011 by Kathleen M. Milmore
A Summer Love Affair
Copyright © 2009 by Sally MacKenzie
The Naked Baron
Copyright © 2009 Kathleen M. Milmore
When His Kiss is Wicked
Copyright © 2009 by Vanessa Kelly
Mastering The Marquess
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eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-2406-4
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