His Compromised Countess

by Hale Deborah

  ‘Can you walk?’ he asked her. ‘We must get back to the house and out of these wet clothes as quickly as possible. I would do the manly thing and carry you, but I’m not certain I’m quite up to it just now.’

  ‘No need. I can walk that far…I think.’

  ‘Good.’ He tugged her forwards. ‘Walking should help warm you up.’

  Leaning against one another for support, with Albert and Wyn leading the way, they staggered back to the house.

  ‘My lord, my lady!’ cried Parker when she caught sight of them. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘What do you think happened?’ Albert snapped before either Bennett or Caroline could muster breath to reply. ‘Her ladyship fell into the water and his lordship fished her out. Both of them could have drowned.’

  ‘Could you have drowned, Mama?’ Wyn asked anxiously.

  ‘I suppose I could,’ she admitted, sensing he would not be satisfied with an evasive answer. ‘But I did not, thanks to your brave papa.’

  ‘You’re a hero, Papa!’ The child gazed at Bennett, as if he were one of King Arthur’s knights come to life.

  ‘So he is,’ Caroline agreed before her husband could shrug off the praise as he always did. ‘And to a great many more people than us.’

  People who did not even know his name, or he theirs. Yet he strove with all his heart to save them from the living death of slavery. She had never fully embraced the cause that consumed so much of her father’s time and attention. It had been the same after she married Bennett. Only now did she truly repent what she might have cost those he championed, with her thoughtless folly.

  Her reference to his Abolition crusade seemed to take Bennett aback. ‘There will be time enough to rest on my laurels later. First we need to get into dry clothes before we catch a chill. Parker, kindly take charge of Master Wyn and see that he gets his supper.’

  ‘What about her ladyship? I should attend to her.’

  ‘I can manage, thank you, Parker.’ Caroline tried to sound stronger and more capable than she felt. After her near-drowning, the short walk to the house had quite exhausted her. ‘It will ease my mind to know Wyn is being looked after. He’s had quite a fright. Do your best to divert him while I change clothes.’

  Her words seemed to remind the maid that there were more important things at stake than her jealously guarded position. ‘Very well, my lady. Come along, Master Wyn. Let’s see what Mrs Jenkins has prepared for supper. I heard her say she might make burnt cream for pudding since you’re so fond of it.’

  ‘I hope she did!’ Wyn raced off toward the kitchen. ‘Would you like to see the seashell I found on Little Cheese Island?’

  As soon as their son was out of sight, Bennett nudged Caroline. ‘He’ll be fine, which is more than I can say for us if we stay in these sodden clothes much longer.’

  Drawing strength from him, Caroline put one foot in front of the other to climb the stairs. The effort required the last dregs of her energy. By the time they reached her bedchamber, her legs were threatening to give way.

  She sank on to the trunk that stood at the foot of her bed. ‘I’ll rest here a moment, then get changed.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Bennett seemed reluctant to leave her. Or perhaps that was only what she wanted to believe.

  Not trusting her voice, she waved him away, though her arms felt like tubes of jelly.

  ‘Very well, then.’ Casting her a worried look, Bennett withdrew.

  When he’d gone, Caroline tried to summon the strength to peal off her wet garments, but it eluded her. She kept telling herself she only needed another minute to rest, then she would begin. But one minute soon passed, followed by several more. She was still sitting there with water pooling on the floor beneath her feet, when a soft tapping sounded on her door.

  ‘Caroline,’ Bennett called, ‘how are you getting along? Are you ready to come down for supper?’

  She hesitated, trying to collect her scattered thoughts.

  Before she could manage to, Bennett pushed open the door. ‘Good Lord, Caro, you gave me a fright. I thought you’d swooned. I knew I should never have left you alone after such a shock.’

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ she protested, though she felt better having him near. ‘I just need another moment to get my strength back.’

  ‘Of course you’ll be fine.’ Bennett spoke with calm, soothing assurance as he knelt in front of her and began to untie her slippers. ‘But I believe it will take more than a few moments to recover your strength. Once I get you out of these wet clothes, I’ll send for Mrs Hicks to look you over…as a precaution.’

  Part of Caroline wanted to protest that she wasn’t ill, only soaked and exhausted. But she could not resist his capable, caring ministrations. He had never touched her in quite that way before and her body had never responded with such complete immersion. Not only did it kindle welcome warmth in her chilled flesh that spread swiftly through her whole body, it also sank deep inside to caress her heart.

  He pulled off her ruined slippers and set them aside. She wished he might reach up her thighs to unfasten the ribbons that held up her stockings, but all her thrashing in the water had already accomplished that. Her stockings sagged to her knees and Bennett had only to give them a gentle pull to slide them off.

  All the while, he kept up a casual discourse about their excursion to the offshore islands. If he hoped to distract her from the fact that he was removing her clothes, his ploy did not succeed in the least. Though she nodded and murmured vague responses as if she were paying attention, his words simply washed over her. Meanwhile, the deep, mellow music of his voice played a fitting accompaniment to the slow, stirring dance of his hands over her body. Her gaze lingered upon his face, taking in every familiar feature with something more than admiration.

  ‘Now, let’s have this off.’ He unwrapped his coat from around her.

  She was sorry to part from its light, warming embrace, which carried a tantalising whiff of his bracing scent.

  ‘I never thanked you,’ she murmured as he moved behind her and began to unbutton her dress, ‘for saving my life.’

  ‘I couldn’t very well let you drown.’ His fingers fumbled over the last of her buttons.

  Another disturbing thought occurred to her. ‘Have I ever thanked you for anything you’ve done for me?’

  He murmured some awkward response about there being no need. Threading his arm under her shoulder, he lifted her just high enough to hoist her skirts up to her waist. Then he eased her back down again.

  ‘Heaven knows where I might have ended up if you hadn’t married me,’ she persisted. ‘Living in very straitened circumstance, I imagine. Or more likely the mistress of some rich old man.’

  She had never fully appreciated the favour he’d done her, never before considered the kind of life he might have spared her. Instead she’d been preoccupied with wanting more than he could give, feeling slighted and sorry for herself.

  ‘I doubt you’d have had any difficulty finding another husband if I had not insisted you marry me.’ He tugged down the short sleeves of her dress, eased the bodice away from her bosom and pulled the sodden garment off over her head. ‘Perhaps not one so well to do, but one who might have been better suited to provide you with things you needed more.’

  There was only her shift left now. The delicate Irish linen might hardly have been there for all it concealed. The dampness plastered it tight to her breasts and rendered the fabric all but invisible. The dusky pink of her nipples showed through quite clearly as they jutted out, stiffened by the chill of the air and the heat of her arousal.

  When Bennett reached to untie the ribbon threaded around the low, scoop neck, his hands trembled. The tie resisted, then suddenly pulled loose, making his hand slip to graze her breast.

  Caroline gave a violent start that sent her arms flying up to fasten around his neck. The next thing she knew, she was pulling him towards her. Her lips opened and closed as they had when she was in the water struggling
for breath.

  Now she was drowning in desire. She needed his kisses as urgently as she had ever needed air. She prayed Bennett would once again come to her rescue.

  With the yearning fullness of her breast beneath his fingertips and the urgent pressure of her arms pulling him towards her, Bennett could not resist his wife’s overture any more than he could break free of a powerful ocean current. Caution tried to warn him of the danger, but blood pulsed in his ears like a roaring surf, deafening him to everything but the siren call of desire.

  Casting prudence aside, he plunged into the hot, velvet depths of Caroline’s kiss, urgently seeking something he could not name. A faint taste of brine lingered in her mouth. He sought to scour it out with the dart and flick of his tongue. His hand closed over her breast, first through the cool, damp linen, then beneath to the soft, yielding flesh.

  She gave a delicious gurgle of pleasure, pressing into his caress with obvious enjoyment.

  He was only too happy to oblige her. Cupping his palms around the inviting fullness of her breasts, he admired her womanly perfection. Swiping the pads of his thumbs over the yearning firmness of her nipples, he longed to taste their incomparable flavour once again. Her body felt so satisfyingly familiar, yet enticingly new. Damp and dishevelled as she was, he had never wanted her more.

  She seemed to want him just as much, drinking in his kisses as if they were the sweetest nectar. Untwining her arms from around his neck, she ran her fingers through his damp hair. The fond intimacy of the gesture stirred feelings within him even more potent than desire.

  A realisation rolled over him with the raw power of a tidal wave, sweeping him completely out to sea. He wanted more than her body—he wanted Caroline’s heart as well.

  Scavenging together the remnants of his shattered self-control, he gave her breasts a parting caress and disengaged his lips from hers.

  ‘You should be in bed…resting.’ His words emerged in a breathless rasp.

  Caroline had almost drowned, he reminded himself, yet here he was taking advantage of her shock and weakness to gratify his desires.

  She refused to let him go easily.

  ‘By all means, take me to bed,’ she whispered, her fingertips feathering over his face. ‘But I need you more than I need rest. To warm me up and bring me back to life again.’

  He understood what she meant. After their cold, dark brush with death, he also felt the need to reaffirm life by making their hearts pound and their breaths race, stirring all their senses to an intense pitch. Though he wished Caroline could want more than that from him, he knew he had no right to seek it from her now.

  That would not stop him from offering it.

  Drinking in the delicate beauty of her features, he raised his hand to graze her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Then he let his hands fall to grasp the hem of her shift and pull it up over her head. ‘If it’s warming you need, I am your man.’

  He wished he’d had the strength to carry her all the way home from the quay, but he’d barely been able to stumble back under his own power. Now enough of his strength had returned that he was able to hoist his naked wife in his arms and carry her the last few steps to her bed. Laying her gently upon it, he paused to shed his clothes.

  When he turned back towards her, a ridiculous feeling of bashfulness came over him. In the past, he and Caroline had never lain together in broad daylight. He wasn’t certain his wife had ever got a clear view of his bare body, particularly the straining column that rose from the tuft of dark hair between his thighs. Might the sight alarm or disgust her?

  Perhaps she guessed his uncertainty, for she held out her arms to him, her lips arched in a playful smile. ‘I’m pleased to see you want me as much as I want you.’

  For once he welcomed her teasing, which lightened an awkward moment and somehow deepened the intimacy between them. So much so that he was able to infuse his reply with a touch of wry wit. ‘If you want me that badly, I wonder how you can stand it.’

  Accepting the invitation of her extended arms, he crawled on to the bed where he knelt over her.

  Caroline broke into a husky chuckle. ‘What makes you think I can?’

  Pulling him down on top of her, she rubbed her body against his with wanton abandon that taxed his physical control to the breaking point. A feral growl rose in his throat.

  His mouth sought hers, hot and hungry. She returned his kiss with lusty passion that fed his desire even as it consumed him. Her hands ranged over his body with provocative, earthy boldness beyond anything he remembered from the early days of their marriage.

  Everything about this encounter felt different than any they’d shared before, especially the nature of his desire. It was no longer enough to sate the need she whetted in his body, with only an afterthought to spare for her pleasure. Now he yearned to coax her to the heights of sweet, shuddering bliss, feel her writhe beneath him and grip around him. For once in their marriage, he wanted to be truly one with her, however briefly.

  That intention communicated itself to their kiss, which grew warmer and deeper—less like scorching fire and more like a sun-drenched tidal pool. With his varied touch, Bennett sought to convey the approval and admiration she longed for. Not only of her generously rounded bosom, lush bottom and soft, silky thighs, but of her quicksilver wit, warm sympathy and quiet strength—the many qualities he had failed to appreciate until recently.

  Slowly he inched downwards, kissing her long, graceful neck and elegant shoulders, on his way to the delectable perfection of her breasts. When his lips closed over one pert nipple while he stroked the other with his fingertips, Caroline arched towards him.

  In spite of the blazing ache in his loins that demanded he take his pleasure swiftly, Bennett lingered over her breasts, determined to savour the sight, smell, touch and taste of them until his senses were altogether sated. He did not neglect his hearing either, greedily drinking in every faint expression of pleasure to escape her lips. Each sigh, each murmur, each catch in her breath further heightened his desire and assured him he was succeeding in his quest to delight her.

  Gradually those sounds took on an edge of intensifying need that he understood all too well. Her legs parted slightly, then wider. Her hips flexed, pleading for his attention. He could not resist their compelling call indefinitely.

  Ranging farther south, his tongue skimmed over the satin skin of her belly, relishing the delicate flavour of woman, seasoned with a hint of brine. Meanwhile, he extended his hand down to her knee and began working his way up to her thighs, delighting in the smoothness of her skin and the yielding softness of the flesh beneath.

  Higher and higher he brought his fingers, altering their movement from a feathery, teasing graze to a voluptuous, liquid glide. When he flickered over the downy tuft of hair that crowned her loins, she gave a sharp gasp and a tremor rippled through her body. He wondered how much more of his amorous play she could endure before he drove her over the edge.

  A spark of wicked mischief he’d never realised he possessed was eager to discover the answer to that question. Yet another part of him wanted to be quite certain he was inside her to experience the slick, pulsing caress of her climax. He sensed that the hotter he fuelled her anticipation, the more intense that final spasm would be for them both.

  Gingerly, he trod the narrow path that scaled the heights of desire, even as his lips and tongue plumbed the hot, wet recesses of her womanhood, lapping, darting and gliding within her sweet, secret chasm. When at last the tension in her flesh grew so taut it must shatter and her breath reached a fevered, pleading pitch, his own tightly coiled need quivered on the knife edge between pleasure and pain.

  Rising up like a powerful, cresting breaker, he plunged into her—his tongue deep into her soft mouth and his straining shaft into her slick, searing heat. In a wild, thrusting rhythm, they raced together towards the furthest extremity of pleasure, beyond any they had previously charted.

  Then the swift, smooth movement of Caroline’s
hips erupted in powerful spasms that quaked through her body. The shuddering contractions wrung an answering release from him. It demolished the floodgates of his self-control, releasing a fierce torrent of ecstasy that flowed over and through him, drowning him in delight.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As she lay in Bennett’s arms, her pulse and breath gradually slowing from their breakneck gallop, Caroline felt as if she’d been shattered into tiny pieces and magically put back together again. In the early days of their marriage, when she’d been so hopelessly infatuated with her handsome, enigmatic husband, they’d had many passionate encounters. None had overwhelmed her quite like this one.

  Was it because their near-drowning had made her appreciate the wonder of raw, pulsing life in a whole new way? Or because it had been so long since Bennett touched her, held her and kissed her, and she knew this time would be the last? Or could it be on account of the new feelings for him that had taken stubborn root in her heart?

  She’d once thought she loved him, but now she realised he had been right to accuse her of not knowing what love was. Looking back, she could see that shallow, self-involved fancy was not even close. It had not been the real Bennett she’d cared for. Rather it was a character she’d conjured out of her naïve, romantic imagination and attributed to him because he’d refused to let her see the flawed but good man he truly was at heart.

  Later, when she discovered her husband bore little resemblance to her fancied ideal, she’d felt betrayed and deceived, refusing to acknowledge the truth—that she had wilfully deceived herself. For all that, she could not let it go. She’d been compelled to make him pay attention to her. His increasing indifference had only spurred her to more reckless lengths until her irresponsible behaviour threatened to destroy everything for which she’d claimed to care.

  Yet, out of her folly and misery something good had emerged. Her destructive infatuation with Bennett had been broken at last. Over the past few weeks, her caustic resentment had slowly subsided, too. In its place had grown a sincere appreciation for the man he truly was. In spite of the painful events from his past, or perhaps because of them, he had become an honourable, tenacious champion of any who needed his assistance or protection. If only she had realised that before it was too late.