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Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone?

Page 11

by Donna Cummings


  She laughed, pulling him close for a brief kiss. "Your initial approach was to call my medical skills into question."

  "True. But I knew you would never give me a second look if I fawned over your obvious talents."

  "You have the most unusual logic, Mr. Hayward."

  His lips brushed against hers. "Richard."

  "Richard," she breathed. His kisses made her completely forget what they were discussing. She did not care, though, for all she wanted was to stay in his arms for as long as possible. It was madness. Perhaps the moon was causing the lunacy, or perhaps she had succumbed from keeping her emotions locked away for too long.

  "Constance."

  He said her name with such reverence that her heart melted just a fraction more. He was making it nearly impossible for her to resist his charms. After so many years of shoring up her defenses, it had taken him a surprisingly small amount of time to breach them.

  She nearly pushed away once more, but there was a distinct rustling sound in the bushes nearby, on the other side of the tree. They both stared at each other with shock.

  "It sounds a bit loud to be your delicate fairy sprites," she whispered.

  "I can only hope it is not your wild boar," he replied, "though it is more likely from the sounds of it."

  She clasped him tighter. "It shall have to carry us both off then. I will not let you go alone."

  "This is precisely why I wanted you to accompany me." Another rustling sound had him standing up quickly. He reached his hand down to help her up, glancing over his shoulder. "I would not put it past my cousins to be the source of this, but I cannot take the chance with your well-being."

  "Would they do such a thing?"

  "Without hesitation," he said with a laugh. "I would do the same to them, however, so I cannot fault them. Here, take the lantern while I gather the hamper and douse the rest of the lights." Before he did so, he turned a wistful look in her direction. "I wonder if you might wish to return here sometime."

  "Without hesitation," she answered. "I am determined to see these fairy sprites one day."

  He gave her another sweet kiss. "As am I."

  Chapter 14

  It had become a part of their evening routine, visiting their secluded fairyland retreat. Richard paced impatiently the entire day until it was time to return to Constance's cottage at twilight. Once he saw her smiling at him, waiting for him on her doorstep, his heart finally calmed, and he wished for nothing more than for time to slow its pace, allowing every moment with her to be prolonged.

  Their conversations were always playful, yet often veered into a more serious vein. It was too easy to reveal his innermost thoughts to her, for she was a patient listener at those times, keeping her teasing comments for the more lighthearted conversation. His initial pursuit had transformed into something unexpected, and he found himself craving more than just her smiles. It seemed he wanted her heart.

  The thought frightened him a great deal more than wading into enemy territory with nothing but a vague assignment and his repertoire of charm. Yet who better to calm his fears than this woman who herself was wary of giving her heart?

  "It can be difficult to remember there is a world outside of this spot," she said, snuggling into his arms with a sigh of contentment.

  "I spend the entire day resenting the sun's presence, praying for night to return so that I can join you in this haven of ours." He kissed the top of her head. "It is bound to be a mental refuge later when I am sitting amongst useless fripperies willing to spill secrets for a paltry amount of coin."

  Constance tilted her head back, so she could see him. "It sounds as though you have had your fill of such work."

  He was not sure how much to divulge, for his thoughts were a tumult just then. He had never really questioned what he did, or the need for it, but now he wondered if he could continue it, as important as it was. Now he wanted something more stable, a chance to live his days in a more predictable fashion.

  With the woman held closely in his arms.

  "I let the Dowager believe she had persuaded me to come for this visit," he finally said. "But in truth I needed a respite from my last mission. It did not go as planned, and while no one was harmed, it had been rather close. It reminded me too much of a previous situation where someone was grievously injured."

  "Was it your fault?"

  "I took responsibility for it, since in wartime 'fault' is not always easy to determine with precision." His lips twisted wryly. "It seems blame is easily pinned, though."

  "I would imagine it is." She turned in his arms until her head was against his chest. Her hand rested against his heart, which pounded fiercely as if wanting to feel her touch more closely. "I will fear for your safety now. It is a great deal more serious than a wild boar attacking you and carrying you off."

  He laughed and trailed his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, treasuring each of her shivers. "Your concern is bound to protect me from all manner of harm."

  "Such as the Dowager's coterie of debutantes?"

  "You have saved me from the most devoted of the bunch. How can I repay you?"

  "A kiss would be highly favored."

  He tilted her chin up, delighted by the impish smile on her face, something he could never grow tired of seeing. He did not relish having that joyful expression disappear once he had departed, however. He brushed that thought aside.

  "I will never deny your request for a kiss," he said solemnly. He punctuated the vow with a heartfelt kiss that quickly grew passionate. She twined her hands around his neck, pulling him atop her, and he knew it was not wise, but her body was such a sweet torment. She writhed gently beneath him, and he was eager to feel every bit of her.

  He cautioned himself to go slowly, however, not wanting her to retreat, physically or emotionally. He did his best to hold his weight off her, keeping most of it on his elbows, but she made his gentlemanly goals impossible. He groaned slightly. Her eyes opened quickly and he could see her attempting to assess what ailed him.

  "I am fine," he hastened to reassure her. "I merely..."

  How did he explain his body's frustration without sounding like a cad of the first order?

  Her lips tilted up into a saucy grin. "I am no innocent, so you have no need to explain."

  That was not at all what he had expected her to say. He brushed her hair back from her forehead and then kept his hands on either side of her face, gazing into her eyes. He could see the wariness return, as if she expected him to chide her for being less than pure. That would not do at all.

  "It has been many years since I could call myself an innocent," he said.

  As he hoped, the wariness left, to be replaced with indulgence. She tugged his head down to hers so she could kiss him, deeply, and with such heartfelt emotion. It made him feel guilty for a brief moment, asking this woman to trust him when he was not sure he was worthy of such a gift. He knew it was not something she bestowed very often. He returned the kiss, his lips silently promising he would never bring regret to her life, hoping it was the truth.

  How could he bear to bring heartache to this magnificent woman? He would rather face a firing squad.

  She moaned lightly, their kisses arousing her, which made his body respond instantaneously. The lanterns were placed nearby so that they could see each other yet leaving the surrounding area dark, concealing them from anyone who might venture by. It was the perfect amount of illumination.

  He had taken off his waistcoat earlier, and was clad in only his linen shirt. As if she had read his thoughts, Constance reached for it, tugging until he grabbed it from the back and removed it entirely.

  "Do not forget where you toss it aside," she teased. "We shall have need of it when we return home."

  He threw it behind him without a second glance, and then kissed the tip of her nose. "Ever the practical one."

  "Someone must be." Her breath came out in a rasp, but it was the reverence in her gaze that nearly undid him. Her hands slowly reac
hed toward him, caressing his bare chest, provoking the most exquisite sensations imaginable.

  "I cannot be the rational one," he confessed. "Not while your hands are on me like this."

  She tilted her head slightly, giving him access to her neck, and he could not refuse the invitation. He pressed his open mouth against her throat, trailing down the elegant column, while she continued inciting madness with her delicate touch over his chest and down his back.

  Her chest was rising and falling at a more rapid pace. He nearly drew back, but she locked her hands behind his neck, tugging him towards her bodice. His heart thudded so intensely, more than he had ever experienced before.

  "Constance," he breathed. He wanted to say so many things. His heart was filled to overflowing with things he did not know how to name, yet he feared he might frighten her if he attempted to explain them. But he needed her to know he was not a seducer, or a frippery, or any other sort of man intent only on his pleasure.

  She clearly sensed his confusion, for she placed her finger against his lips, and smiled.

  ***

  It was madness. She knew that. When it brought heartache in future days, she could chide herself for falling under the spell brought on by this secret fairyland and the man who had created it for her.

  This captivating man who was guaranteed to cause her heart to rejoice, and also to regret.

  But for now, she wanted this stolen moment of magic. It had been too many years since she had had any sort of enchantment in her life. What better time than now with the moon and stardust as backdrop?

  Richard pressed his mouth softly against hers. "I feel as though I have a fairy sprite in my arms."

  "You do. For the entire evening."

  "I am beyond ecstatic. I never anticipated such a moment." He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. "How many wishes will I be granted?"

  Her breath hitched and then she whispered, "As many as you desire."

  His hands trembled when he drew her closer, and nothing could have reassured her more. His smile was tender, not the triumphant one of a seducer who had just claimed his prize.

  Constance sat up and pulled a multitude of pins from her hair. When it tumbled free, she shook it until the curls fell about her shoulders. He reached for it, twining several strands in his fingers, his expression awestruck.

  It emboldened her. She slid her bodice lower, but then she needed assistance removing it, which Richard was happy to provide. It took seemingly forever to rid her of clothing, fueling her impatience, but Richard calmly took his time with the myriad ties and fastenings.

  "I had always imagined a fairy sprite's clothing to be a great deal simpler than this," he commented, dropping a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

  "I will suggest a re-design at our next meeting." She grinned up at him. "Perhaps something involving moonbeams and stardust."

  "Yes, of course." Unlike his cavalier treatment of his own clothing, he gently set her dress on a nearby tree stump. "But it is a treasure seeing it fall away like this. Such beauty."

  She turned her head away for a brief moment, but when he whispered her name, the concern in his voice made her turn back. "Your admiration humbles me."

  "O beauteous fairy sprite, of course I admire you. It is impossible to do otherwise. Your flowing locks." He gently moved her hair until it curled over her shoulders. "The beautiful curve of your neck. Your moon-kissed skin. No, you have no reason for humility. Ever."

  "I am glad you never captured a fairy sprite before now. They shall be quite envious when I tell them of the silky words used in your wooing."

  "Shh, you shall make them jealous. Especially once I have utilized all the wishes I have been granted."

  Constance reached for him, and there was no more time for words. He pressed her down against the blankets he had piled up to cushion the hard ground beneath them, though she was unaware of anything but him. She held his face in her hands, reverently, slightly disbelieving this moment was even occurring.

  He retreated, but when she protested, he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. "I have more clothing to dispense with." When he began to unfasten his breeches, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch.

  His expression was delightful, filled with mischief, along with unmistakable pride at her interest. It took mere moments before he was divested of his clothing, and Constance sucked in a breath at the magnificence on display.

  "The other fairy sprites have even more reason to be jealous," she teased.

  He laughed and then gathered her once more in his arms. "I can only hope they are not hiding nearby."

  "If so, we know for certain what sort of fairy sprites they are."

  He laughed once more, but then his mouth was put to better use, lavishing her with kisses everywhere, as if he was following the path from the moonlight above. Her neck received every bit of his attention, and then her taut nipples. She could not stop the shivers of delight. Her hands roamed everywhere on his body, storing up the memories and sensations, fighting off the vain wish this night could be repeated continuously in her future.

  Richard lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, and whatever he saw there made him continue his tantalizing trail of kisses. Surely he could feel the fluttering he caused in her stomach. Her skin began to heat unbearably with each of his touches, and an unending ache commenced inside that only he could cure.

  "Richard."

  He lifted his eyes but kept moving towards the spot that desperately needed his attention. She did not need to tell him what she needed. He knew. He was intent on granting every single one of her unspoken wishes, all while stoking her desires until she was sure to go mad.

  "Constance," he murmured against her skin. It seemed he might say more but he shook his head, and then placed his mouth on the source of her agonizing need.

  She cried out, in shock, and from sheer pleasure. Surely she could not bear it for more than a moment, yet she knew she would rather cease breathing entirely before relinquishing such sensations. She lifted her hips, silently pleading for more, even while wondering how she had ever become so brazen.

  His answering growl of approval banished all of her worries. He gently gripped her thighs and then began the most delicious torment she had ever experienced. When she attempted to retreat, he let her, but in the next instant he lured her back.

  She wanted to fight the passion building inside her. It would swamp her, she knew that, and how could she possibly withstand such pleasure? She wriggled backwards, or tried to, but he would not let her. He tightened his arms to keep her in place, all while his mouth kept stoking the desire. She finally gave herself over to it.

  She felt herself winging towards heaven, free of any thoughts, her entire body soaring with pleasure that could only be a gift from the divine. Just as she began to descend, Richard was entering her, in one long stroke, sending her back to the realm of pure pleasure.

  She grasped his head and pulled it down for a long kiss. He guided her leg until it was wrapped around his waist, and she instantly felt him deeper inside of her. She could not halt her cries of pleasure. Each one seemed to spur him on. She reveled in his unabashed enjoyment of her responses.

  It was not long before she was careening from the new wave of desire, though this one had grown in intensity, almost frighteningly so. She held him tightly, needing him to go along with her as she faced something unknown to her before now. Again, he seemed to know, and he lowered himself, wrapping her so tightly in his arms as if cocooning them against the outside world.

  She burst apart then, spinning and whirling until there was nothing left of her but moonbeams and stardust.

  ***

  Richard shook his head, doing his best to catch his breath, but he could not seem to regain his wits. It felt as if he had been knocked silly, like the time when Miles and William had pummeled him for some childish prank he had pulled on them.

  But this... He grinned. He would never regret this sensation. He was tempted to spill his e
motions right then, to tell this beautiful fairy sprite how she had stolen the final piece of his heart. He would never have expected such a thing could happen.

  "Constance." He moved to the blanket, but pulled her into his arms before she could retreat. He needed her close. "You have completely bewitched me."

  He felt her smile against his bare chest. "It is what we fairy sprites do."

  "Of course. We mere mortals do not stand a chance." He could not resist another quick kiss, this time to the top of her hair. "You have spells and enchantments and all manner of unearthly powers at your disposal."

  She raised herself up, her hand on his chest, and grinned. "Shall I enchant you again?"

  You shall always enchant me.

  He nearly said the words aloud, but decided against them. She would never believe he had lost his heart so quickly. He scarce believed it himself. She was more likely to interpret any expression of emotion as a seducer's ploy, or even a frippery's gambit. Better he keep their lighthearted banter going. It would aid him in gaining her trust, and one day, her heart. Hadn't it worked well thus far?

  "If you plan to enchant me," he replied in the same teasing voice she used, "then perhaps I can return the favor?"

  "Naturally." She sat up, her exquisitely bare body on display without any shame or self-consciousness. She gazed at him with the same admiration, and her hands began their own form of adoration. "I can see I do not need to cast a spell to ensure your stamina."

  The pleasure was so exquisite, he struggled to find a witty response. Words were just out of reach. He had nearly pieced together something that might have sounded reasonably clever, but then she placed her mouth on him, and he gave up on anything but reveling in pleasure.

  A pleasure he was certain they would both share for many days into the future. It was impossible to imagine otherwise.

  Chapter 15

  Richard growled in frustration. How had he completely misjudged the situation? What had he done to earn Constance's approbation?

 

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