Germaine slipped around the side of his desk and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Uncle, and Bayard thanks you, too. He never wanted to go. We saw enough death in France.” She started to leave, only to pause in the doorway. “Oh, and Bayard and I are going to spend tomorrow with the Radmoors at their country home. We are going to be leaving soon and will not return until late the day after tomorrow. Alfred and Kate are coming with us as our maid and valet. Is that still acceptable to you?”
“Of course. Radmoor has a very fine home and grounds. And, of course, all those young people. It will do you well to get some fresh country air. Have a good time.”
“Oh, I am certain we will, Uncle. You have a good time, too,” she sang as she hurried away.
Hartley intended to have a very good time indeed. Until recently he would have needed Alethea to take the upper hand in the lovemaking if they were to have any. That would have been agreeable to him, but she had been treating him like an invalid and lovemaking had clearly been the last thing on her mind. All her relatives had left, and now Germaine and Bayard were going away for a little while. Even Kate and Alfred would be gone. He would have Mrs. Huxley leave some food for him and Alethea and then give the servants a full day off, starting right after dinner and continuing until the morning of the day Germaine and Bayard were to return. He only had one last grim chore to see to, and then he would turn all of his attention to the seduction of his wife. Tonight he intended to show her that he was no longer an invalid.
“And that appalling show puts a firm end to it all,” said Argus as he, Hartley, and the others walked away from the gallows grounds. “You can assure Germaine, Bayard, and your wife that the woman is most certainly dead. She and her sister. I think I would even tell them just how badly they died, too.”
Hartley grimaced. The women had died badly. They had wailed and protested, even fought and dragged their feet every step of the way. The crowd had booed, jeered, and pelted them with rotten food and offal. He was very glad that Alethea and Germaine had not been there to see it all. The whole spectacle had been as appalling and as gruesome as he had remembered. The fact that Margarite had been nearly decapitated by the rope had only added to that. He had thought that knowing the condemned, knowing of all the crimes they had committed, including the ones against him and his family, would make it easier to watch the execution. It had not, except that now he could tell his family that Claudette and Margarite would never be able to trouble them again.
He left the other men to make his way home alone. Alethea met him in the foyer, an expectant look upon her face. He handed Cobb his coat and hat, and then gently drew Alethea into his office. As delicately as he could, he told her all about the hanging, not mentioning the near decapitation, for it was not necessary to the tale and he simply could not speak of that gruesome part to his wide-eyed wife. And then, pouring himself a brandy, he waited to hear what she had to say about it all.
“’Tis odd, is it not, that two people who killed so many other people would be so terrified of their own deaths.” Alethea went to Hartley and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his broad chest. “I am sorry you had to witness that but very glad to know for certain that they are both gone.”
“I went because their victims could not. Iago said that the spirits around Claudette are at rest now.”
“Good. Then it is over and done, and we can get on with our lives now.” She stepped away from him, even though she ached to linger in his arms. “A bath has been readied for you, and then there is dinner to be enjoyed. It will be strange to have just the two of us at the table again. That has not happened since only three days after we were married.”
Hartley thought it would be a sweet pleasure to have her all to himself for a little while as he went to his bedchamber to wash away the stench of the gallows. Once dinner was over, even the servants would be gone. He could chase his wife through the house and make love to her in any room he wanted. He could also do his best to discover exactly how she felt about him.
He loved her, and he needed her to return that love in full measure. It was not going to be easy to bare his soul when he was still uncertain of the depth of her feeling for him, but he could do it. Catering to his pride now seemed foolish after what he had been through, after that moment when he had thought he would never see her again. His instincts told him that she loved him, but he needed to hear the words. Hartley knew he also needed her to believe him when he spoke the words to her.
Alethea looked around her bedchamber and sighed. It was a beautiful room, but she wanted to be sharing Hartley’s bed. They had thus far spent very little of their marriage in the same bed. She was beginning to fear that Hartley liked that arrangement. He would just have to change his mind, she decided. They were husband and wife, not some sinful couple sneaking a few trysts when time and the absence of other partners allowed.
She studied herself carefully in the mirror. Her hair was clean, thick, and shining with good health even though she did wish it was not as black as a raven’s wing. The nightgown and robe she wore were dainty concoctions of blue linen and white lace meant to tease a man; at least, that was what the dressmaker had told her. Her breasts did seem to be more exposed than she liked, the neckline of the gown barely covering her nipples. Alethea had no idea what men liked to look at but, if it were breasts, Hartley would get an eyeful.
“Now or never, woman,” she grumbled as she turned and marched toward the door that connected his bedchamber to hers. “Get a spine. This is for the rest of your life. Time to start as you mean to continue.”
Alethea opened the door only to face a robed Hartley standing there in the act of reaching for the door latch. “Oh. I was just coming to speak with you.”
“Good.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his bedchamber. “I was intending to speak to you as well. I am no longer in need of gentle care and nights spent alone in my bed.”
“Ah. Yes, I can see that.”
Hartley had not tied his robe very tightly, and it was obvious that he was naked beneath it. She clasped her hands together in front of her to stop herself from slipping her hands inside that robe and running them all over that smooth, taut skin she loved to touch. He wanted to talk, and, since she did as well, it was best if she did not give in to her baser urges. There would be time for that later.
“Is this new?” Hartley could not seem to lift his gaze above her breasts, and all his carefully planned words were fading away. “I do not recall seeing this before.” He trailed his fingers over the plump swell of her breasts above the neckline of the nightgown and watched her tremble slightly.
Perhaps the best place to talk was in bed, he thought, his mouth watering to taste all that soft flesh she was showing. He might get the words he needed from her in the heat of passion. He would certainly find it easier to say them then. Hartley put his arms around her and tugged her close to his body.
“I thought you wanted to talk,” she said as she slipped her hands inside his robe and lightly caressed his sides.
“We can talk in bed,” he said as he slowly removed her robe and kissed the place where her neck met her shoulder.
The heat from that one soft kiss against her skin flowed through Alethea’s body. She decided they could talk during or after. She no longer cared. It had been too long since she had been held by him, kissed by him, and touched by him. Her whole body ached for him to be inside her.
“I think this is going to be fast and furious,” he said.
“Just do not rip the gown. You paid a lot for it.”
He laughed as he tugged the gown over her head and then threw off his robe. When he pulled her back into his arms, he fell down onto the bed. The feel of her soft skin caressing his was a stark reminder of how long it had been since he had tasted her passion. He kissed her, showing her his hunger for her in each thrust and stroke of his tongue as he touched her everywhere.
Alethea tried to return every touch he gave her in equal measure.
She was starving for the heat of his skin and the taste of his kiss. Her passion was running so high and hot she could not keep quiet and briefly worried about being overheard. Then he took the hard tip of her breast deep in his mouth even as he thrust his fingers inside her, and she forgot all about a need to be quiet.
They wrestled each other in an effort to each touch the places that brought the most pleasure to their partner. Alethea finally grasped hold of his erection and stroked the hot, hard length of him. When he trembled in her arms, she knew a sense of sensual power that only added to her need for him.
“Now, Hartley,” she demanded, her body shaking with the need to have him inside her.
“Ordering me about now, are you?”
He was not surprised at the hoarseness in his voice. Every inch of his body was taut and ready to possess her, and it had been a strain to hold back as long as he had. He sat back on his knees, grabbed her thighs, and spread her legs wide. A small part of his mind that was still sane grinned at the way her eyes widened, too. Pulling her forward until her legs rested on his hips, he pushed into her. The tight heat of her made him gasp, and he lost the last thread of what little control he had.
Alethea was shocked when he pulled her into such an indecorous position. Then he thrust inside her, and her greedy body revealed that it did not care how he did it, so long as he kept on doing it. Her release stormed over her, and she arched her body into his, straining to take him in as deep as possible. Hartley’s hands tightened almost painfully on her hips, and then he pounded into her four more times, until he stilled and the heat of his seed bathed her insides. The way he cried out her name was pure music to her ears.
“That was certainly fast and furious,” she said after they had washed off and then collapsed in each other’s arms. “Noisy, too. I hope no one heard us. I will not be able to look anyone in the eye on the morrow.”
“No one heard you.” Hartley savored the sight of her naked and in his arms, trailing his fingers up and down her spine. “Everyone is gone.”
“Well, yes, I know Germaine and Bayard, along with Alfred and Kate, have gone to the Radmoors’, but—” She frowned at him when he placed a finger on her lips and silenced her.
“Everyone is gone. I sent the servants off right after dinner, and they will not return until the morning of the day after the morrow. We have the entire house to ourselves.” He slapped her on her beautiful backside, gently rolled her body off his, and stood up. “And I believe I will now go to the kitchen and eat some of that food Mrs. Huxley left for us.”
“Naked?” Alethea sat up, holding the blanket to her chest as she looked him over. It amazed her that after such a satisfying bout of lovemaking, that tickle of interest was yet again skipping through her body.
“My house. No servants. Yes. I am going to the kitchen to eat something, and I am doing it naked. Coming with me?”
She climbed out of bed and picked up her robe. “I will come, too, but not completely naked.”
Hartley watched her march out of the room in front of him and grinned. He decided he would not tell her that the robe she was wearing hid very little. If it made her feel as if she was decently covered, he was not about to argue. He was enjoying the view far too much. Rubbing his hands together, he began to think of all the ways they could make love in the kitchen.
To Alethea’s shock and then pleasure, Hartley made love to her on the kitchen table. She was barely recovered from that when he dragged her into his office and made love to her on his desk, saying that he would always remember this and it would warm him on the days he was buried in work.
In the parlor he stretched her out on the window seat and made love to her with his mouth. In the breakfast room she pushed him up against a wall and returned the gift. Alethea lost all sense of modesty by the time they made love on the stairs. She was not sure she could walk by the time they staggered back into bed. Her last clear thought was that they still had not talked.
Dawn was just lighting the sky when she woke to the heat of Hartley’s mouth on her breasts. Alethea lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair. “You are insatiable.”
“Only for you.” He gently bit the nipple he had nursed to a hard point.
“Hartley, you said you had something you wanted to talk to me about,” she reminded him, fighting back the demands of her body to just give in to his seduction.
He slid up her body and kissed her. “I want you to sleep in here. Every night.”
“Oh. Of course.” She blushed. “I was actually going to talk to you about that, too. I do not like to sleep alone, and yet we have done little else since we got married.”
Hartley kissed her again, relieved that she, too, was eager to sleep in the same bed. “Now, I said something to you when I was rescued, just before I passed out. You have never acknowledged what I said, and I know you heard me.”
“It is all right, Hartley. I know you were in pain and yet so overjoyed that you had been freed and I-I—” She stuttered to a halt when he gently placed his hand over her mouth.
“I thought that might be the way of it. I meant it, Alethea. I meant each word and would have been more eloquent had I been able to speak.” He was not sure the way her eyes widened so much it had to hurt was a good sign, but he continued, “I thought I was going to die.”
She moved his hand. “I know, and that is why you felt the need to say—”
He put his hand back over her mouth. “I felt the need to say it because I was afraid that, in my cowardice, I had forever lost the chance. I sat in the damned chair waiting for that woman to break even more bones and started to think of all I was losing, because I did not see how I could get out of there alive. Oh, I told her you would come, boasted of your family’s many gifts and how she could not run from them, but I did think I would die.
“And all I thought about was you. How I would not be able to hold you again, see you again, make love to you again. I even thought of how I would never see you round with our child or hear that child laugh. I did not think of my friends, or even Germaine and Bayard except to know that you would take good care of them. Not my title left without an heir or my lands. All I could think of was you and how I would die without ever telling you what you mean to me. I meant it, Alethea. I love you.” He frowned as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Are you crying?” He slowly moved his hand away.
“No,” she replied and used her hands to wipe the tears from her face. “Oh, Hartley, I am such a wretch. All this time I never mentioned it because I thought you did not really mean it as I hoped you did. I am so sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I had guessed that. It was not the best time to make a declaration, but it had been one of the things I had thought I would never do, and I felt compelled to say it right away, the moment I saw you again.” He frowned as he suddenly thought over what she had just said. “Did you just say you hoped I meant it?”
“Is that what I said?” she asked, staring at a lock of her hair as she combed her fingers through and fighting not to smile.
Her heart was bursting with joy. He loved her. She had heard those two hoarse words in her dreams ever since he had said them and silently prayed every night that he would say them again and mean them. Now that he had she was giddy with joy and could not believe she was teasing him before replying in kind. The words had burned on the end of her tongue for so long she was surprised they were not branded there.
She laughed softly when he cupped her face in his big hands and made her face him. Alethea could see by the mock anger in his expression that he knew she loved him. If he had had a moment of doubt, he was far past that now.
“Alethea, when a man makes a declaration to a woman, I think she is supposed to respond,” he said. “Especially when she says something about hoping it is true and is lying naked beneath him.”
“Ah, so that is why you were in such a rush to get me in bed. You hoped the nakedness would prompt me to spill all the secrets of my heart.”
&n
bsp; “Alethea,” he growled.
She laughed and kissed him. “I love you. I have loved you almost from the beginning. I think the seed for it was planted with the first time I saw you in a vision.”
“You have never said so.”
“Have I not? I bedded you despite the fact that you made no mention of marriage, and I was a virgin. I also said yes to your poor proposal.”
“What was wrong with my proposal?”
“Companionship, passion, and someone to help with Germaine and Bayard? Hartley, my own true love, only a woman madly in love with you would say yes to a proposal like that.”
He laughed and nuzzled her neck. She was right. It had been an appalling proposal. If he had realized just how bad it was then, he would have known that she was in love with him the moment she said yes. For a rake, he knew very little about women aside from getting them in bed. Now he had two living in his house, a wife and a niece. It would be interesting to see just how different his life was going to be from now on.
Hartley murmured his pleasure when she stroked his stomach. “Are we done talking now?”
“Hartley, do you want children with me?” she asked in a small voice, her fears of her own heritage hard to shake off.
“Of course I do. Why would I not want children with the woman I love?”
“Because whatever children we have will have a very good chance of having some sort of gift. I know I mentioned this before, but you said you did not care. I wondered if you still felt that way after meeting my family.”
“After meeting your family, I feel even stronger about it. Yes, they have skills I simply do not understand and may never do so. But the ones I have met are loyal, loving men and women. A child could not ask for a better family. If our child is born with a gift, they will all help in the raising to make sure the child understands the gift and uses it correctly. So, yes, I want a child with you. Do not worry about what I might say if there is a Vaughn or Wherlocke gift that comes with the baby. I will love any and all of the children we have, even if they can see ghosts.”
If He's Wild Page 27
