A Hoyden and an Heiress (Greenford Waters Book 4)

by Kristin Vayden

  “It’s a trifle difficult to dress when damp,” Berty replied with her back still primly turned. “There is another blanket on the bed if you wish to use it as well. It will not offend me if you’re concerned about that prospect. I’m much more practically minded than that.”

  Henry chuckled to himself. Of that, he was certain. “I think I’ll follow your lead, then.” He stripped the rest of his underclothes off and walked gloriously naked to the bed, his body acutely aware of the beautiful woman not three yards away, and the very inviting bed just beyond him. Sighing deeply, he took the blanket and wrapped it around him, taking a risk, and sat beside Berty.

  “Much better?” she asked. She turned slightly to meet his gaze before her eyes flickered down to the blanket covering him.

  “Indeed.”

  The silence stretched on for several moments before Henry dared to break it. “About that apology.” He stared into the fire, measuring out his words.

  “Ah, yes. The change of heart.”

  “You’re calling it that.” He gave her a sideways glance.

  “And you would call it?” she asked.

  “A miscommunication.”

  “How magnanimous of you.”

  “I’m going to ignore that.”

  “Feel free. I rather—”

  Henry silenced her incessant chatter with his mouth, tasting her familiar flavor as he soft lips melted beneath his. “Keep arguing, I rather like to win arguments this way,” he murmured against her lips before deepening the kiss.

  As she pulled away slightly, she whispered, “What took you so long?” for the second time that day.

  Henry chuckled against Berty’s soft mouth then slid his tongue against hers as he pulled her in, releasing his grip on the blanket. He was vaguely aware of it falling beneath his shoulders, but became fully aware when her hand touched the bare skin on his arm.

  He withdrew from the kiss, meeting her wonder-filled gaze as her eyes traced the outline of his shoulders and chest, the firelight reflecting in her gaze.

  “Every time I try to apologize, you find ways to distract me,” he teased, needing to lighten the moment before he made very good use of the bed.

  “You are very distracting as well,” she replied breathlessly as she traced her fingers down his arm and to his hand.

  “In a good way?” he asked flirtatiously.

  “The best way,” she answered.

  Henry took a deep breath and let the words tumble out. “To give insight to my words earlier, I understand that my rather humble status doesn’t recommend me as a suitable match. However, I’m quite hopeful that you might be persuaded to overlook it.” He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to her lips, praying his instincts were correct, that she loved him even a fraction of the amount he loved her.

  Withdrawing from the kiss, he took a measured breath and continued his discourse. “You are far too honest to trifle with my affections, so if you’re disinclined to a pursuit on my behalf, then please say so.”

  Berty blinked, her expression softening into an amused grin. “So, you’re saying you like me.”

  “I’m saying…” Henry bent near again, closing the distance till only the barest of space separated their lips. “I’m saying I love you.” He sealed the words as he caressed her lower lip with his tongue, reaching up and drawing her in tight against his bare upper body.

  “It took you long enough,” she replied against his lips, earning a chuckle from Henry before he reached under her and lifted her onto his lap. He tilted her head with his palm to taste her kiss, to feel the sweet weight of her upon him, the delightful security of knowing that she saw beyond his name, his lack of connections…

  To the man within.

  It was an awe-inspiring experience, combined with the quite permeable barriers that continued to shift between them. Henry was faced with overwhelming temptation.

  He pulled back from her kiss, resolute to put a barricade of distance

  “Was there a question implied in your extensive discourse?” Berty nodded her head invitingly.

  He searched her gaze, watching as the firelight flickered in her warm depths. “Perhaps.”

  “Rake.” She smacked is arm, adjusting her person enough to remind him of their quite cozy position.

  He groaned inwardly at the pleasurable friction her body presented at the slight movement.

  Bloody hell, the duke was going to kill him.

  And he hadn’t even compromised her, yet their situation was damning enough.

  But it was of no import, since he was quite determined to have her.

  And apparently, she was willing to let him.

  Wonder of wonders.

  She raised a dark brow of inquiry, and he chuckled. “Impatient?”

  “As if you didn’t already know,” she replied.

  “I haven’t exactly asked for your hand properly…” he hedged, simply teasing her and enjoying the blessed moment.

  Berty sighed softly and lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers.

  “Minx.” Henry released a small laugh in wonder at the treasure that was Roberta Lamont.

  “Will you have me, Miss Lamont?” He raised her hand and kissed her delicate fingertips, closing his eyes as he waited for her response. What he heard was a sharp intake of breath amidst the sound of fire crackling.

  But no response.

  He hazarded a gaze to her, waiting, expectant.

  “Yes.”

  He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding hostage and broke into a triumphant grin. Leaning forward, he sealed her acceptance with a kiss that sent his heart to racing. Yet he pulled away. Distance, he reminded himself.

  Of course, he should have realized that Berty was disinclined to follow his more gentlemanly instincts, and she followed him, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him back into the kiss. A kiss he was all too willing to continue.

  “No, love. You are temptation herself, but I won’t—”

  “To think…” She tugged on his lower lip, silencing his words. “I once thought you too silent.”

  He grinned against her lips, nipping at them playfully. “And now?”

  “Now I think you rather speak too much.” She tilted her head. “Are you going to go back on your word?”

  “Of course not!” He was affronted at her words then watched in utter fascination as she slowly lowered the blanket, revealing the delicious curves he hadn’t let himself imagine.

  And even if he had, his wildest imaginations wouldn’t have done the reality justice. “Dear Lord,” he whispered reverently.

  “I’m already quite compromised, Mr. Willox, and I find it an odd mix of your character that you’d not complete something you have started.” She glanced away, a crimson blush staining her delicious cheeks.

  He marveled at the ability for a woman to be so brazen, yet innocent at once.

  Berty was a temptation he couldn’t resist.

  As her gaze returned to his, the insecurity tore through him, and he reached up and caressed her cheek with the most tender of strokes. “Berty.”

  He met her lips with a passionate need. He allowed himself the pleasure of feeling her bare shoulders, memorizing the soft sensation of her skin under his hands. As his caress continued downward, he knew he was lost to any ability to hold to his earlier convictions. Her soft full curves filled his hands perfectly, and he swallowed her soft gasp of pleasure. His sole focus became to give bring her to the same point of exquisite need as he. Without delay, he carefully eased her from his lap. With swift motions, he reached down and collected her into his arms, leaving their blankets beside the fire in a heap.

  He strode to the bed, his lips caressing the curve of her neck as she clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh with an intensity that magnified his arousal. With gentle care, he laid her on the bed then met her lips in a demanding kiss. He melted into her soft, welcoming body as her fingers traced the lines of his back, the expanse of his shoulders.
Her fingers left traces of fire everywhere they touched. His breath came in short pants as he struggled to take her to her first experience with pleasure slowly. She leaned into him, her welcoming heat beckoning him, dissolving all his control.

  “Berty, love…” He couldn’t cease in kissing her, tasting the flavor of love on her lips. It was heady, intoxicating… bloody addictive.

  She moaned his name as his fingers caressed her breast, memorizing its weight, its perfect shape against his palm. “I need…” She sighed impatiently and pressed her hand into his back, urging his weight further on top of her.

  “Are you—”

  “Yes,” she replied demandingly, bowing her head back and allowing him delicious access to her neck, which he savored with each kiss and lick.

  She bucked her hips invitingly, and unable deny her any longer, he slowly entered her warmest place. Hissing with pleasure and the need to go deeper, he locked down his muscles, waiting for her to adjust.

  “Love…” He panted, kissing down her jawline as he mastered his instincts. “This may be painful, but only for a moment.”

  Berty trailed her fingers across his shoulders and up to his face, stroking his cheek and the slight stubble that had begun to grow. “I love you.”

  Watching her with intensity, he slowly filled her, the exquisite pleasure warring against the slight wince as he fully made her his.

  His.

  Her first.

  And, with God as his witness, her only.

  She sighed softly, relaxing around him, then wiggled slightly.

  “Dear Lord,” he whispered, closing his eyes in pleasure.

  Berty pulled his neck down and met his lips in an inviting kiss as she moved her hips ever so slightly.

  It was torture. It was bliss. It was more than Henry could resist, and he began to move.

  With each pulse of his, she arched against him; with each kiss, her tongue tangled with his; with each breath, he consumed her till he no longer knew where he ended and she began. As her body hummed with the tension of her pleasure, he met her as they crested their release together.

  As his heart continued to pound, he watched as his beloved came back from her passionate release. Her face was flushed with a lover’s glow, and her brown eyes held the familiar spark that he’d fallen in love with so quickly.

  “Ah, my love.” He kissed her nose.

  “I now see what all the fuss is about. That was quite… heavenly.” She sighed contentedly.

  A powerful tenderness rose within Henry. Though they had yet to say their vows, she was by virtue his to have, hold, and protect.

  And based on her penchant for adventure, the protection part would be indeed great.

  “What are you thinking about?” She raised a hand and caressed his brow.

  He moved on the bed, pulling her into the lee of his body as he rested his chin upon her head. “Only that I love you, hoyden that you are… and apparent seductress.”

  “You were quite the willing participant,” she murmured into his chest.

  “Indeed, I was and ever will be, my love,” he answered, kissing the top of her head.

  He felt her stiffen slightly, and he waited for her to confide her feelings, but he suspected he knew where they led.

  “Tomorrow…”

  He held her tightly. “Will take care of itself. For now, sleep. I protected you today, and come tomorrow, I’ll do no less.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her tone relaxed.

  “It’s always wise to protect one’s heart when it’s outside the body… and Berty… you’ve had mine since you held me a knifepoint.”

  He felt her giggle sleepily against his chest, and he was quite certain there was nowhere in the world more wonderful than there, at that moment.

  “That’s almost romantic.”

  “I’ll try to improve my tactics.”

  “We have a while to practice,” she murmured.

  “We have forever.”

  BERTY HADN’T BEEN able to keep her eyes from straying to Henry lying next to her. His warm smile had sent shivers of delight straight to her toes, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She had awoken that morning in his embrace — warm, safe, loved. Yet as much as she wished to linger, the truth was that the world had no idea they were tucked away safely at Garden Gate. So Henry had whispered his love, dressed, and fetched the carriage.

  While he attended to the horses, she donned the clean servant’s frock she hadn’t needed the night before and tidied the room. In a few minutes’ time, she was outside waiting for Henry, and soon they were on their way to GreenFord Waters.

  Berty’s gaze flickered to his once more, and he wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his body and kissing her hair. They rode in silence for the first mile or so, then she felt Henry stiffen. “What is it?” she asked.

  He gave her a soft smile. “Just considering how I’m going to approach the topic of our upcoming marriage with not only Lady Southridge, but your guardian.”

  “I see.” Berty bit her lip. “I dare say they won’t be too shocked.”

  He cast a quick glance to her. “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t think they ever expected me to go the conventional route to the altar. Honestly, neither of my sisters ever did.” She gave what she hoped was an indifferent shrug.

  “Ah, yes. I’ve heard the stories. I was there with Neville, you know.” He gave her sly grin.

  “What? How did I not know?”

  “I didn’t play a large part in the apprehension of the miscreant.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But it was quite apparent he was taken with your sister in the most violent way.”

  “Ah, yes. Still is. I swear, it’s a wonder they only have one heir.”

  “I suppose I should be used to your candor,” he teased.

  “Indeed.”

  They continued to converse and truly enjoy one another’s company as they closed the miles to GreenFord Waters, yet as they approached, both fell silent.

  As the estate came into view, a familiar well-sprung black carriage waited in front.

  “The duke,” Berty whispered.

  “Well, at least we may regularize matters immediately then.” Henry offered her a confident smile, yet she suspected he was as nervous as she.

  As they approached the gate, she had only counted to ten before Lady Southridge, the duke, and Carlotta came pouring from the front entrance of the manor.

  Henry pulled up the horses and handed the ribbons to a nearby footman. “Please see to their care. They’ve had a difficult time of it.”

  The footman nodded, and Berty slid her gaze to her family.

  Carlotta was first to wrap her into a tight embrace. “I was so worried! We left London two days ago intent on giving you a visit, and when we arrive, we discover you’ve been missing! It’s shades of Beatrix’s horror all over again! Are you well?” Carlotta put her at arm’s length and studied her.

  “I’m well,” Berty answered quickly, pulling Carlotta back into a hug.

  A throat cleared, and Carlotta slowly released Berty from the encirclement.

  “Berty.”

  The duke spoke her name, and she gave a side grin as she met his tight embrace with one of her own.

  “Tell me, what happened?” He stepped back and regarded her with his crystal-blue gaze.

  Berty glanced to Henry, her back to the duke.

  “I believe it would be best if we converse inside?” Henry suggested, casting a meaningful expression to the duke.

  “Very well.”

  “Not till I have my turn!” Lady Southridge shouted, tugging Berty aside and then wrapping her arms around her. “Silly girl, you run away from the boy, and then you run back with him.” She lowered her voice then. “I’m assuming that means something…” She freed her from the embrace and arched a knowing brow.

  A warm blush stained her cheeks, which was apparently enough of an answer for Lady Southridge, who then decided to lead the procession t
o the house.

  It was a short time later that they were seated in the parlor.

  “If I may be so bold to speak to you in private, Your Grace.” Henry bowed humbly as he addressed the duke.

  “Of course.” His gaze narrowed even as he agreed, and soon Henry was following him from the parlor and into the hall.

  “So?” Lady Southridge was the first to ask.

  “I…” Berty glanced to the door. How she wished she could hear what they were to speak about!

  “You…?” Carlotta encouraged.

  “Drat, I want to hear if the duke agrees.” She twisted her lips. “Not that he has much choice, mind you,” she muttered. Though it was clearly loud enough for Lady Southridge to gasp.

  “You don’t say?”

  Berty met her gaze with a guilty expression. “That is…”

  “Well, that worked better than I’d anticipated.”

  “If you don’t mind, please explain what you were scheming, and…” Carlotta turned to Berty. “…what that young man needs to speak with my husband about?”

  Berty relayed the entire story to them concerning Alice’s duplicity, the carriage chase, and Henry’s — Mr. Willox’s — rescue. She then went on to explain that they had sought refuge at Garden Gate.

  “And you’re quite compromised then, aren’t you?” Lady Southridge asked, her grin wide.

  “Don’t look as if you’re pleased by the prospect!” Carlotta scolded. “Berty, dear…” Her brow pinched. “How compromised?”

  And then when Berty didn’t reply quickly, Carlotta’s gaze narrowed. “That is either a brave or foolish young man in there.”

  “He’s brave,” Lady Southridge answered before Berty could, so she simply added her agreement.

  “Indeed, he is. He risked his life yesterday, and he’s probably risking it now approaching the duke with what will probably be stark honesty.”

  “Ah,” Carlotta replied, her expression shifting to an approving grin. “Love wouldn’t risk any less, darling.”

  “I’m learning that,” Berty replied.