‘Papa was determined to have my filial obedience. He told me if I did not do as I was bid he would have his doctor declare me insane.’ Her eyes flickered towards him. ‘He said I have been nothing but a damned nuisance all my life, and if I would not obey him in this, then he would have me put away.’
Ben frowned.
‘What about Jasper, or Dominic? Surely they would not allow such a thing.’
‘They were in London and Papa had me watched, to make sure I could not send them word of what he proposed.’
‘It is no wonder you were prepared to run off with Nettleton.’
‘But it wasn’t a hoax. He really did have a letter from Doctor Rathbone.’ She reached for her reticule and drew out the paper she had taken from Nettleton. ‘Henry showed it to me in the booking office. He said if I made a fuss he would use it.’
She held it out to Ben. Anger roared up inside him as he read it, but forced himself to speak calmly.
‘So it was marriage or an asylum.’
‘Yes.’
He handed it back to her.
‘Burn it, Sal. Burn it now, before it can do you more harm.’
She knelt before the hearth and held the paper in the fire, watching as the paper blackened and flared. Only when the flame threatened her fingers did she drop the letter onto the logs, watching the heat consume it, until there was nothing left but ash. Ben came to kneel beside her as he added another log to the blaze. She was not aware of him, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames.
‘How could my own father be so cruel?’
‘You sound surprised.’
‘I thought he loved me.’
A tear glistened on her lashes. He lifted his hand to wipe it away.
‘I am sorry, Sal.’
She did not move as his knuckles grazed her cheek, but the touch of her soft skin held him like a magnet. He gently drew the back of his hand along the line of her jaw, caressing the dainty chin. She turned to face him and his fingers moved slowly around her neck, under her hair. He applied no pressure but she drifted towards him, raising her mouth to meet his. It was a soft kiss, as delicate as a feather. Her touch inflamed him, igniting the fire that he knew now had never quite died, but he reined in his own desire. He sensed her uncertainty and held back, he would do nothing until she was ready.
Sally found herself almost sighing with content as his mouth caressed her lips, reassuring, comforting. Slowly her sadness fell away, replaced by a deep peace, as if she had finally come home. His kiss was gentle, tender, and gradually Sally became aware of a change in herself. She put her hands on his shoulders and began to kiss him back with ever more urgency. He gathered her in his arms, holding her close as she drove her fingers through his hair. His tongue explored her mouth and played havoc with her senses. She was on fire. When he raised his head, breathing raggedly, she arched towards him, pushing her body into his. He kissed her neck and hugged her so tightly she feared she might crumble. He laughed, the sound muffled against her skin.
‘I want to take you to bed, now.’
She kissed his ear, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.
‘Then why don’t you?’ The glow in his eyes sent bolts of desire plunging through her, making her tremble. ‘Take me to bed, Ben. Now.’ She was pleading with him, but she did not care. Her body was aching with a longing she had never known before.
‘There isn’t one. At least there is a bed, but the room will be cold and damp.’
She took his face in her hands.
‘Then let us lie here,’ she whispered, pulling him closer and giving a little sigh of frustration when he held her off.
‘One moment.’ He fetched his greatcoat and spread it on the floor before the hearth, then pulled the cushions from the settle. ‘There. It is not a bed fit for a queen, but it will have to do.’
Impatiently she pulled him down beside her.
‘I am not a queen,’ she murmured, starting to unbutton his coat, ‘and I think it will be perfect.’
They undressed each other, slowly at first, their progress hampered by the need to exchange any number of heady kisses, but at length their passion was too fiery to wait and they tore off the remaining garments, lying amongst discarded linen and in a confusion of tangled limbs and hot kisses, searching, exploring, relishing each other’s pleasure.
Sally’s body arched as his hand slid over her bare shoulder and brushed across her breasts, the nipples tightening and straining for his touch. Ben paused for a moment to study her, fire burning in his eyes as they ran over her body. His hand rested on her waist, she felt the warmth of his palm on her skin. She was transfixed by the magnificence of his nakedness, golden in the firelight. She had dreamed of him, imagined how he would look thus, but nothing prepared her for the hot, urgent flush of need that engulfed her as her eyes travelled from the wide muscled shoulders down to the lean narrow waist and hips and the evidence of his own desire. Her mouth went dry.
I am a virgin, she thought. I should be afraid of this. But eagerness for Ben’s caresses put her fear to flight. She opened her arms invitingly and he lay down beside her, kissing her gently while his hand moved slowly over her body. Her thighs ached for him but even when she sighed with impatience he would not hurry. He lowered his head to press a series of gentle kisses on the slender column of her neck, his tongue flickering over her skin as he moved across the swell of her breasts. His tongue circled one hard tip then the other, sending little darts of pleasure down through her core. She moved restlessly as his hand smoothed over her stomach, setting the flesh tingling. When his fingers brushed her inner thigh she tilted her hips up invitingly.
Her whole body was singing, nerves quivering each time he touched her. The lamp had gone out and the fire had died to a mere glow. Ben was now only a dark shadow above her. She reached down to caress his aroused body, moving her hands gently, reverently over the taut muscle. He groaned at her touch and lowered his head to claim her mouth, his tongue probing deep until she was drowning in his kiss and she wrapped her arms about him, holding him tight.
She gave a little gasp as he entered her but she was slick and hot and there was no pain, only intense satisfaction to feel him inside her. Ben’s slow, steady movement gradually quickened. She was losing control as the rapturous sensations took over her body. No longer drowning, she was flying. She bucked and trembled. Someone cried out but she did not know if it was her voice or Ben’s, and the next moment her body was paralysed by such a spasm of ecstasy that she could only cling on, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
‘Oh, oh, I did not know,’ she whispered. He was enveloping her, above, around, inside her. She was acutely aware of him, hard and heavy within her. Even as she lay back, exhausted, he kissed her again, nibbling at her lower lip, his tongue teasing and exciting while he started to move, deep, steady strokes that revived the slumbering fires inside her. As he pushed deeper she threw her legs around his waist, clinging to him. With a groan he began to cover her face with hot, urgent kisses. Her whole body was on fire, her senses so inflamed that every movement, every touch was almost too pleasurable. She gasped, cried out for him to stop—to go on. His arms tightened as her body tensed and shuddered. She pushed hard against him while her world splintered and she cried out with the sheer joy of it. She was vaguely aware of clinging to Ben’s rigid body as she felt herself falling, falling through the darkness and into...nothing.
They lay side by side, breathing heavily. With a sigh Ben reached for some
of their clothes to cover them.
‘You are mine now,’ he whispered, pulling her close. ‘Mine. I will never let you go again.’
* * *
It was early when Sally woke. She lay still for a few moments, eyes closed, listening to the birds singing outside the window. Unusually, there was a faint smell of woodsmoke in the air. She was not in her room at Markham, but she felt very comfortable. Safe and warm. Then the memories of the past few days crept in. Cautiously she opened her eyes. The ceiling looked very high, but that was because she was lying on the floor. Ben’s greatcoat made a thin and lumpy mattress and she had only his jacket and her voluminous riding skirts as a blanket, so the feeling of security must be due to the fact that Ben was curled around her, his naked body pressed close, keeping her warm. Her heart swelled with an unexpected longing. She wanted this moment to go on forever.
Ben opened his eyes.
‘Good morning.’ He pulled her close and kissed her.
Immediately her body responded and she wondered if he would take her again as he had done last night. When he moved away she realised how much she wanted him to make love to her. She contented herself with watching him as he sat up and reached for his shirt, which had somehow ended up over the back of the settle. His brown hair was loose and fell almost to his shoulders. She remembered running her fingers through those tangled locks and wanted to do so again. Her gaze moved on over his broad shoulders to the muscled contours of his back. She gave a little gasp.
‘How did you get these?’
Gently she reached out and touched one of the long white scars that criss-crossed his skin. She ran her fingers gently over the raised wheals. The scars were not new, but she shivered at the pain that had been inflicted upon him.
‘That was your dear papa’s parting gift to me.’
He spoke coolly but she snatched back her hand as if he had burned her. He dragged his shirt over his head.
‘I don’t understand.’ She struggled to sit up. ‘Did you come back, after I had told you I could not marry you?’
‘No, my sweet, but our meeting was not quite so secret as we thought. When you left me, your father and his henchmen were waiting. He took a horsewhip to me, so I should not forget my insolence in aspiring to his daughter’s hand.’
Her hands crept to her mouth.
‘I did not know,’ she whispered, horrified.
‘That is not the impression your papa gave me.’
‘You think I would have allowed such a thing?’ He had his back to her, and although the soft linen now concealed the disfiguring marks they were burned into her memory. She reached out and touched his arm. ‘Ben.’
He moved away quickly, whether by accident or design she did not know.
‘Here.’ He picked up her chemise and held it out. ‘We had best get dressed.’
Sally had not noticed the chill of the room until then. Or was it the thought of those hideous marks on his back that made her shiver? No wonder Ben wanted revenge upon her father. Perhaps last night had been part of that revenge. It was a lowering thought, but perfectly reasonable. Her eyes smarted. Whatever the consequences, she would never hold it against Ben.
‘We should leave as soon as we have broken our fast,’ he said, shrugging on his coat. ‘Would you like me to light the fire? We could make coffee.’
‘No, thank you. Do not do so for my sake.’
No fire or warm drink would thaw the icy block that was forming inside her.
They shared what was left of last night’s meal and slaked their thirst with a little water from the flask Ben carried. In truth, Sally wanted nothing, but even though the food tasted like ash in her mouth she forced herself to eat, for she had no idea what the day would bring, or when she would be able to eat again. When they had finished Ben turned to her.
‘Now, we must think what we are to do with you.’
‘You said you would escort me to Murton.’
‘But you will still be in danger. Do you think your father will not look for you, that he will not obtain another deposition from the doctors to say you are insane?’
She crossed her arms, trying not to tremble.
‘I had thought of that. My stay in Murton is only temporary. I plan to disappear.’
‘And do what?’
She wanted to reach out for him, for the comfort of his arms, but that was impossible, so she got up and began to tidy the room.
‘I have no idea. Governess. Seamstress, perhaps.’
‘And do you think your father will give up that easily?’
‘No, but I have to try, and I will not involve my brothers. I will not bring Papa’s wrath down upon them, too.’
‘I have another solution.’ She looked at him then. ‘It comes back to the choice of marriage or the asylum. Marry me. We are only a few days from the border. Once you are my wife you will be safe forever from your father.’
Thankfully she was so close to the table she could lean against it, otherwise she was sure she would have collapsed.
‘Why?’ she asked him, forcing the word out through her dry lips.
‘Why not? I am six-and-twenty. It is time I took a wife.’
She went back to her tidying. Why not, indeed? Perhaps he was using her to punish her father, but what did it matter? He had loved her once and she...well, what was the old saying? Half a loaf is better than none. Half a loaf was certainly better than being pronounced a lunatic.
‘A sensible solution, then.’ She forced her dry lips into a smile. ‘Very well, I will marry you.’
‘Sal—’
She turned away. Fighting back the tears she said brightly, ‘We had best be moving. The sooner we reach Scotland the better, don’t you think?’
* * *
Ben watched her bustling around the room. It was not the proposal he had intended to make to her, with tender words and assurances of undying affection. He cursed himself. Just when he needed his most polished address he had turned into an inarticulate fool. Her response had shown him that. A sensible solution, she had said. When had Sally Coale ever been sensible? She was teasing him, but after last night she must know he was in earnest. He had tried to stay aloof, to tell himself she was a scheming hussy but his heart had always known the truth. She was headstrong and wilful, yes, but she was also kind and generous, brave and spirited. For her to be locked away from the world as a madwoman was not something he would allow.
He resisted the temptation to take her in his arms and show her how much he cared. Once he started kissing her he might not be able to stop and Sally was right, there was no time to lose. Nettleton would surely have notified Lord Markham that his daughter had run away, and the viscount was not a man to be crossed lightly. If he should discover them before Ben could make Sally his wife then it could be difficult to prevent him taking her back. Not that he wouldn’t try. Remembering how she had felt in his arms last night, Ben knew that he would stop at nothing to keep Sally by his side.
‘Shall we hire another horse?’ she asked him. ‘Morgan cannot carry us both all the way to the border.’
Much as he had enjoyed having her in his arms he had to agree.
‘That would make us too conspicuous. Stay here while I ride to the Hall and see what I can do.’
Less than two hours later he returned with a smart curricle pulled by two high-stepping horses.
‘It belonged to my relative’s husband,’ he explained, seeing her look of surprise when he pulled up at the doo
r. ‘Thankfully Lady Margaret could not bring herself to part with the carriage or the horses he purchased with it.’ As he helped her up he pointed to the trunk strapped on the back. ‘She also sent along a few things you might need for the journey. It will look better for you if you have some luggage, you know.’
‘That is very kind of her,’ replied Sally, bemused. ‘But does she know—’
‘Oh, yes,’ he grinned. ‘And she insists we make our first stop with her on our return journey. Your first official visit as Mrs Ben Hensley. We will try to make Appleby today. That will leave us with only twenty miles or so to the border. We could be married by tomorrow night. What do you say, Sal?’
‘Yes, let us try, by all means.’
‘Good girl.’
Sally put up a hand to her hat as he set the team in motion. Good girl. Perhaps he did not hate her, then. That was something. Half a loaf.
* * *
They made good time following the coaching roads, but they were some miles short of Appleby when he slowed up. Sally had been dozing beside him, but the change in pace roused her.
‘Where are we?’
‘Brough. You are exhausted, we shall stop here for the night.’
‘Oh, but I am not doing anything, merely sitting beside you. If you want to go on—’
He held up his hand.
‘We have travelled far enough today. We shall still make the border tomorrow. Come, let me help you down. This place is very busy,’ he murmured, taking her arm and escorting her into the building. ‘That might help us escape notice.’
The landlord came bustling to meet them and in answer to Ben’s pleasant enquiry replied that he could indeed find a room for them.
‘What name would it be, sir?’
‘Woods.’ Ben glanced down at Sally, his eyes brimming with mischief. ‘Mr. and Mrs. Woods.’
* * *
The Tantalizing Miss Coale (The Notorious Coale Brothers) Page 4
