A Rogue in the Making (Forever Yours Book 11)

by Stacy Reid

  They drew a shaky breath together.

  He plunged deep, driving past the natural resistance of her body. Her lips parted but nothing came from her mouth. She couldn’t breathe. The pain buffeted her sense in waves.

  Juliana shifted and groaned her distress.

  “Do not move, Juliana. Though I made sure you would soak my cock, you have a very tight quim. I promise you it will soon ease.”

  “Kiss me,” she said. That would distract her from the burning ache. She always loved his kisses.

  And he did until she was moaning and lifting her hips for more. He moved, a slow glide out of her wet, aching sex, and then a deep returning thrust. Juliana screamed. The pleasure-pain was a burning sensation that started where they connected and spread to her throbbing nub.

  Dark, wanton heat spread through her. “Wentworth,” she gasped, kissing his shoulders. “I…you make me feel so much.”

  Anther deep stoke, then another and another.

  Her wild cries and murmurs dissolved into incoherent fragments.

  “Juliana…don’t leave…curse it…I…”

  She caught the rest of his words with her mouth and poured all the raw emotions pounding through her into the kiss. He leaned forward and pressed his cock deeper inside her wet, aching sex. He withdrew and thrust jolting under his passionate entry.

  Everything inside Juliana centered on the hard, driving thrusts of his manhood into her wet slit. He swallowed her whimpers and moans, stroking in and out of her, all control abandoned. Hot darts of pleasure shook her, unlike anything Juliana felt before.

  “Wentworth,” she gasped, almost frightened at the intensity of the sensations blossoming through her entire body.

  A heavy ache coiled low in her stomach, drawing tighter as the sensations intensified until Juliana convulsed beneath him, twisting, crying out, clutching blindly at his shoulders.

  With a few jerky thrusts, and a harsh groan, he emptied deep inside her shivering body. They stayed like that for a long time, until her lashes fluttered closed. She barely felt when he withdrew from her body, cleaned her, and drew the sheets to her shoulders. Juliana fell asleep with a smile on her mouth but an ache in her heart.

  How do I ever leave this…us?

  A few hours later, Juliana sat near the edge of the bed, her legs folded beneath her as she watched the rise and fall on Wentworth’s chest. Last night he’d been about to ask her to stay and she had kissed the words away, filled with fright, uncertainty and soul burning love. He had taken her to the heights of bliss several times, and she was smart enough to know there might be consequences to their fiery passion. There might be a child, one who she would nurture with all the love in her heart, and one who would inherit the empire she would build with Robert.

  Slipping from the bed, she winced at the ache in her muscles and the soreness between her thighs. They might have been too enthusiastic. She padded over to the table, opened the drawer, and withdrew a sheaf of paper along with the quill, inkwell, and ink blotter.

  Dearest Wentworth,

  It is exceedingly difficult for me to bid you farewell. You see I am falling in love with you, and I am certain I am more than halfway there. I’ve lived in England for the past four years, since my papa died, and these last few days with you have been my happiest.

  The whimsical part of me wants to believe I can abandon all the dreams I’ve had for the last four years and stay with you here in England. We could marry, theoretically speaking, and I could try to fit into the position of the countess to a particular English earl. I could try harder to be properly correct and I might succeed even though there are times I fear I would risk causing a scandal. I could also dearly hope your mother would accept ‘one of those brash American girls with no decorum’ she spoke about during dinner. We might even be happy for a while, but it would eventually fade because the dreams I have are very important to me.

  I do hope you understand, and I dearly wish we might remain friends and correspond with each other from across the oceans. Perhaps, you might even visit me one day in New York, and I hope even more ardently should I visit England again you’ll receive me cordially.

  Forgive me for not being able to part with you directly,

  Yours,

  Juliana.

  She hurried into the bath chamber and tidied herself as best as she could without turning on the spigot. Then she dressed in her valet clothes for the day and secured her wig. But Juliana did not lay out his clothes or polish his boots, she slipped out of the room, startled to note it was almost noon.

  Good heavens. Could any of the maids have slipped inside, seen them curled into the bed and went away? She spied her brother speaking with the younger twin. She cleared her throat, and Robert at a glance dismissed her. Then he did a very comical double take. She lifted her chin to a door down the hallway, then made her way there and inside the small rose parlor. A few seconds later he entered.

  “Juliana?”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Why in God’s name are you dressed so?”

  “It is a long story, and I will tell you on the way. We must leave immediately.”

  “I will have the story now,” he said with a thunderous expression.

  She rolled her eyes and quickly relayed it.

  “A valet,” he said faintly. “As in servant to the earl, often alone with the earl in his private chambers?”

  “I cannot credit that part is what caught your attention. Not that the viscount and that dreadful buffoon you called a friend tried to kidnap me and force me into a marriage?”

  Robert sighed. “I meant to tell you it all, last night I spoke with Matthew, he doesn’t want to marry you either. It’s the viscount’s dictate and he was damn glad when you disappeared. He is in love with a governess working in the Fenton’s household, but our stepfather won’t hear of the match.”

  “Rubbish! He was there that night in the carriage when I came to, trussed up.”

  “Yes, and if you had allowed him an explanation before you knocked him over the head, you would have heard the tale that he is already married in secret and cannot do his father’s will.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes.”

  Juliana almost laughed. All her grand adventures had been for naught. She hadn’t needed to be here at Norbrook Park for the last three weeks!

  But I would have missed ever meeting him, had I not been here.

  And truly, she could find no regret inside, only a heavy feeling of sadness and a deep rush of want. “We must leave now. We will discuss everything else in the carriage.”

  She’d already wasted at least five minutes with this conversation.

  “We must wait until the earl—”

  “No!” Juliana closed her eyes to stop the prick of tears. “I cannot see him! We must leave before he wakes.”

  Her brother frowned, widening his pale-blue eyes. “Juliana, we cannot abuse his hospitality—”

  “If I see him, I’ll not be able to leave,” she confessed.

  Robert laughed, a soft sound of disbelief. “You mean stay here…with the earl?”

  “Yes.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “Have you lost your senses? How could you so easily forget the dreams of our father and the plans we made? For what?”

  He stared at her as if he did not know her.

  “That is why I said we should go now.”

  Without saying another word, her brother whirled around, anger and disappointment evident in every line of his lanky body. She followed behind him at a discreet pace, aware she still played the role of a servant.

  He bid the countess farewell and left his regards for the earl before asking for their carriage to be brought around.

  Walking away from him and the place she had been happiest, felt like walking barefoot on knives. She entered the carriage first, folding her hand across her chest. Her belly felt knotted, like the beginning of a stomach ache that might last for painful hours.

  The carri
age rattled along, and she thought she heard a shout over the crunch of the gravel-lined driveway.

  Against her better judgment, she took a quick glance over her shoulder, and choked on the air.

  “Stop the carriage!”

  “Good heavens, Wentworth, whatever are you about?” the countess cried when he ran past her in the hallway dressed only in his trousers.

  Two housemaids gasped before dissolving into giggles, and his Aunt Millicent seemed ready to swoon. The butler remained stoic and even opened the door for his master.

  Wentworth reached the steps of his manor just as the carriage rumbled down the long driveway.

  “Juliana!” he shouted, uncaring that he made a spectacle of himself in front of his family and staff.

  His heart pounded a viscous beat and his damn throat ached. Why had he wasted time reading the letter and putting on trousers? The carriage stopped, and he saw the curtains by the small window parted and Juliana’s face peeked out.

  “Isn’t that your valet?” his cousin asked.

  “His valet,” his mother gasped. “The person you chase after in this awful and scandalous state of déshabille is your valet?”

  “If I had not been here to witness it, I for one would not have believed a word of it,” Aunt Millicent said in shocked tones. “You are aware you are without clothes, Wentworth?”

  “Millie, I cannot understand it,” his mother said fretfully. “He is chasing after the coach that left with his manservant. I…I…could it be this is why he has not shown any lady any regard over the years?”

  Aunt Millicent gasped and he could feel their stares, but the only thing that concerned Wentworth was the stopped carriage. Realizing she truly meant to leave him, and without any sort of farewell left him feeling crushed and almost breathless. His chest lifted on a ragged exhalation and his fingers tightened over the damn letter she’d left behind.

  That was it, a letter with words showing her fear and her longing. At first, he’d felt a visceral dread that he’d scared Juliana with the intensity of his ardor. But he’d re-read her words, and in a nutshell, loving him meant letting go of her dreams.

  The woman he’d fallen in love with had no faith in him. Did she believe the kind of love he had to offer was one so selfish he would only care about his desires?

  Have I ever shown her anything else?

  He dearly hoped he had, but Wentworth admitted he had been too caught up with falling for her, that he hadn’t explained or told her he wanted to be by her side forever. Nor had he told her, that he would love her eternally or forever long, God would give them as man and wife. And he would damn well find her in the next lifetime.

  Robert fished out his pocket watch for the third time, a black scowl forming on his face.

  “We must go now, Juliana.”

  “I need a few more minutes,” she said, her throat burning.

  “I see the turmoil in your eyes, and I do not understand it,” he murmured. “You spent a little over three weeks here at Norbrook Park, and you are conflicted over the earl. Has he offered you words of love?”

  The sudden ache in her throat prevented her from replying right away. Finally, she said, “Yes.”

  Her brother froze. “And do you love him too?”

  She noted that one of his gloved hands was gripping the edge of the carriage seat as if it were a lifeline. Her response mattered very much to her brother and she understood. He was only two years older than her, and they had always been close. At the death of papa, when mama had shut them out in her wild and unstoppable grief, they had anchored each other.

  He had been her best friend for so long. The future they dreamed about, they had planned it together. Always.

  “Did you not expect me to fall in love one day?” she asked hoarsely.

  “Jules,” he began gruffly. “You hate it here in England. We only stayed this long for mother and she is now happy with that bounder she married. He even genuinely dotes on her. There is nothing keeping us here, nothing keeping you here. This…whatever happened with you and him. This was just a fleeting moment. In New York there is everything. Our old friends who are very eager for your return. Our business interests. Papa’s dreams of building a legacy for our future children.”

  Her lips trembled with her smile. “I suppose we can only have those children, with people from New York.”

  “Home, Julie. Home.”

  And then he rapped the roof of the carriage and it lurched into motion.

  Wentworth felt as if his whole heart had been ripped from his chest. The carriage drove away, gradually picking up speed as the coachman urged the team of four onward. He had all but run down the steps, ignoring the gravel stones that dug into the soles of his feet. Fucking hell. He stopped when the carriage disappeared round the bend and a row of large beech trees.

  “Order my fastest horse to be readied,” he said to the stable lad who hovered, staring with wide eyes.

  In truth, several of his servants had audaciously come outside, and gawked.

  His mother’s pale face had gone paler and her eyes were wide with worry or perhaps shock.

  “Wentworth,” she said sharply. “It is cold out and you are without proper garments. Your chest is bared and your feet! You’ll catch your death.”

  Yet he could not move, trying to sort out the jumbled voices in his thoughts. The first time he’d seen her, the smile, the way she’d spoken low and husky to maintain her disguise, the way they had hunted together, the cottage, star gazing, making love.

  “How could…” his throat closed. “So easily?”

  His mother touched his arm and he glanced down into her concerned eyes. “You are wondering how your valet could leave so easily?”

  He nodded, unable to give voice to the emotions tearing through him.

  “Perhaps,” his mother began gently, “Perhaps he did it because…because such a relationship will be frowned upon and be extremely hard to…hide from society.”

  What?

  “My valet is a lady.”

  His mother lips parted, and she pinched him.

  “Such scandalous behavior!”

  Aunt Millicent hurried over. “What is it?”

  “The valet is a lady!” his mother hissed in a furious undertone.

  “A lady?” Aunt Millicent sent him a look of deep admiration. “I never knew you had it in you. I am so proud.”

  “You love her,” his mother said. “I cannot credit any of this is happening and in front of the servants! This will be all over the country by this evening.”

  Wentworth hardly gave a damn. A hole had open inside and he wondered if the hollowness would ever abate.

  She had left. The brave and witty and kind woman he’d fallen in love with had simply left, without a backward glance.

  “What will you do?” Aunt Millicent demanded briskly.

  “Why, he will forget that little miscreant. If she had any feelings for my son she would have—”

  “Chase her,” he said gruffly. “I am going after her…and it might take me as far as New York.”

  “Parliament is far more important”

  “Mother please, I love her. And I’ll not marry anyone, if I cannot have Juliana. She makes…she makes me feel and hunger to live in a world outside my books, and when I do get lost in them she is there, a shadow in my mind, teasing me and still reminding me that someone is there waiting for me to close those pages. I…I cannot begin to explain what she means to me. Another person’s reason or logic will not compel me when it comes to her. Understand this.”

  His mother stared at him like a creature who had popped into the courtyard, and her eyes watered.

  “Then for her, but I shall never like her for hurting your heart so!”

  “I…” His words faltered and his heart jolted as he spied a slim figure in the distance hurrying up the long driveway. Was it…? Wentworth walked forward, wincing slightly at the sharp stab into his sole.

  “I think the valet is returning,” Henrie
tte called from where she stood with her sister, the butler, and perhaps all thirty-five staff of the estate.”

  “D’ya think its dem books wot finally did it?” he heard one of the gardeners mutter.

  Wentworth walked to meet her, moving slowly because of the damnable stones. She looked behind her and he spied her brother running after her. She ran toward Wentworth and as she grew closer he stopped.

  “Why is she running, do you think?”

  A quick glance over his shoulder showed his mother, aunt, and several of his outdoor servants following him! Wentworth ignored them and turned to Juliana who had stopped some feet away, her wide eyes staring beyond his shoulders.

  “You came back,” he said gruffly. “Why?”

  She shook her head wordlessly and pressed three trembling fingers over her mouth.

  “Why is the bleeding valet crying?” a perplexed voice asked, and his mother made a hushing sound.

  Wentworth bit back the roar rising in his throat and took another step toward her.

  Her panting brother reached, his expression thunderous.

  “You jumped from a moving carriage!” he snapped. “Have you gone mad?”

  “You would not stop,” she said, but she never took her eyes from Wentworth. “I asked you to stop.”

  “Why?” he demanded, baffled. “Why did I need to stop.”

  “Because I could not leave without seeing…without seeing you,” she whispered. “I should never have left just a letter. It was cowardly, and my papa did not raise a coward.”

  “So, you mean to tell me then that you are leaving?” Wentworth asked, his words chilled, for an anger was storming through his heart. He wanted to slam his fist into a wall. Perhaps the physical pain would dimmish the one in his heart. She’d only returned to prove she wasn’t a coward. “Then go!”

  But she did not move.

  “I cannot leave Wentworth,” she said, and in her eyes he spied a longing that almost felled him to his knees.