The first couple of months at the Waverlys passed uneventfully. Harriet had welcomed the peace and quiet. It was only afterwards, when Harriet wanted to return home, that things made a turn for the worse. Why, before his last trip Captain Waverly kept her under lock and key!
Only Mrs. Waverly’s constant demands released her from her prison. Harriet had no money, but she was running out of time. She had to get back to Beebe Manor. Rounding the bend, she paused.
A carriage sat in front of the cottage, an elegant conveyance. It was not a common sight in Marsaport. There were no markings on its door, but without question it was the property of a nobleman.
Upon her appearance, one of the footmen ran up the steps and through the entrance. Her heart surged with hope her family had come to retrieve her. Suddenly, a man emerged from the house.
Harriet stood utterly still. Holding her breath, she felt the color drain from her face. For a moment, she stared incredulously at him. Finally, she whispered his name. “Arthur.”
He wasted no time, but bounded down the steps. He walked toward her and her heart stopped for what seemed an eternity. Breathless with shock, she stood frozen in her spot, unbelieving the sight before her.
Arthur reached out and caressed her cheek, wiping away escaping tears. She looked at him, searching his face for any signs it was all a dream.
Smiling down at her as if he had found a lost treasure, he said, “I am real.”
“They told me you were dead….” She faltered. Badly shaken, the whole of her body trembled. She took deep breaths to calm herself.
“They told me you had deserted me.”
There were no more words. He drew her into his arms and kissed her. Surreal, she surrendered to the moment. The warmth of his mouth upon hers stirred her pulses. She felt alive again.
Leaning down, Arthur picked her up and carried her back to the carriage. He gave her no option. She was leaving.
The carriage door closed behind them. He wrapped his arms about her and she nestled closer. His embrace felt so safe. Slowly, her shaking subsided. Arthur had rescued her.
As if reading her thoughts, he kissed the top of her head. “It is over, my love. No one is ever going to part us again.”
* * * *
By the time they stopped at the Black Swan Inn outside of Falmouth, Arthur explained the collusion to the best of his ability. There were many unanswered questions, but one fact could not be disputed—they both had been victims of a conspiracy.
Upon reading the letter from Clarissa, he realized he had been had. Clarissa begged Bessie for help in finding Harriet. Her parents wouldn’t give her any answers. She was worried, expressing her concern to her sister.
Bessie, I’m in no condition to search, for my time is near. But we both know that Harriet left only to recover from the shock of Arthur’s death. I expected her back immediately after the mistake was revealed and he returned. I have written to her continually, but my letters have been returned unopened. She is not where Mother told me. Now Mother acts as if she has no knowledge of Harriet’s whereabouts. And with this nonsense that Harriet ran off with a stranger, I am worried about her. She was heart stricken. I understand none of what is going on. Do not tell me that it is only my imagination! I will not be fended off this time...
Arthur wasted no time. He hired a Bow Street Runner, Mick Layton. He had often heard the feats of these investigators, but until now he had never had a need. Calling forth his utmost patience, he understood the necessity of taking his time to unearth the whole of the treachery—until he discovered that Harriet was in imminent jeopardy.
Her uncle had placed Harriet in the utmost peril sending her to the home of Captain Waverly. Layton uncovered the man was no more than a smuggler. It may well have been true that Mrs. Waverly was a distant relative of Harriet’s aunt, but the captain was a dangerous man. The more Layton uncovered about the man, the greater the threat to Harriet seemed.
“If it is as I suspect, it is a wonder that Miss Burke has not disappeared. I would have ventured it would have happened well before she turned twenty-one, but it seems Mrs. Waverly became quite dependent upon Miss Burke. I would wager it would not go on for much longer.”
Upon the information, Arthur immediately set off for Marsaport. Arrangements were hastily made for Harriet’s return. He refused any other outcome. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. He couldn’t be too late…
Anger and rage swelled within his soul at the thought of what Harriet had endured. His rage eased upon the sight of her standing in the middle of the lane. Indescribable relief flooded him.
Harriet need not know how deep the deceit ran…not yet. She didn’t need to know that her inheritance was no more. How could he tell her that he suspected his grandfather instigated the conspiracy, bribing her uncle?
It explained much of what had happened. Arthur had no doubts that his grandfather helped arrange Harriet’s loss of her inheritance. Not to mention Ewan’s marriage to Bessie, but there was much left to be explained. His grandfather Arthur understood. In truth, Arthur suspected his grandfather of such actions…not of the fate of Harriet.
Arthur knew his grandfather well enough that his grandfather turned a blind eye to Harriet’s fate, concerned only with its outcome—Arthur’s being released from his proposal. Free to do his grandfather’s bidding…and he had done so.
No, in time he would forgive his grandfather. The other conspirator—never! James Carlisle! The one person he trusted above all others had betrayed him. But dealing with his former friend would have to wait.
The immediate need laid in his arms. Harriet.
His concern and relief mingled with other sensations. Absence hadn’t lessened their mutual attraction. Her head turned up to him. He needed nothing else to claim her lips, releasing her only because they had arrived at their destination.
“I have arranged our accommodations for the night. It is early yet, but I felt the need to assure myself of your welfare,” he said. “I left in a hurry when I discovered your whereabouts, but my secretary has secured you a place where we can live until I can settle your affairs.”
“You are not leaving me.”
“Never,” he reassured her. “Trust me.”
Harriet allowed Arthur to guide her up the steps into the room he had reserved. The room was sizable. It overlooked the edge of the town and the lazy stream straddling the side of the inn. The curtains were pulled open and sunlight filled the room. A fire burned, giving warmth to the chamber.
“I have arranged a private dinner after you have a bath, if you choose,” Arthur said, walking in behind her. “You do have a semblance of clothing. Your trunk was hastily packed before your return to that hell hole. Not much of a wardrobe, but we’ll change all of that in the next few days. We will get you all new gowns.”
Harriet nodded. “A bath sounds heavenly.”
It had been such a long time since she had enjoyed a bath. She needed nothing more than to relax. The whole of the day had unnerved her.
“I’ll arrange it,” he said. Slipping his hand around her waist, he pulled her close. “I think in all the chaos, I haven’t told you how much I missed you.” He kissed her.
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sheer physical response to the man who held her in his arms. Her body burned with an awakening desire, renewing an ache that gnawed for more. Suddenly, he broke from her.
“I’m being selfish. You need to relax. I will be back.” Caressing her cheek, he left her then to refresh herself.
True to his word, a bath was prepared for her. Despite the sun still shining, the curtains were drawn to give her complete privacy. Undressing, she slowly sank into the tub and soaked in the balmy water scented with lavender.
Her mind raced, trying to come to grips with the events of the day. Still she wondered whether she lived in a dream. Questions inundated her. She didn’t understand all Arthur told her. She would care one day, but now… at this moment… all she cared
about was Arthur was alive and had come for her.
Emerging from her bath, Harriet felt rejuvenated. Yesterday, life seemed desolate and lost. Today, her heart sang with renewed hope. Humming to herself, she dried and began to search for a garment to wear.
The trunk had been packed in a rush. From its appearance, she surmised that Arthur himself that attempted the packing, because her entire wardrobe had been crushed into the chest without folding one item. Not that it mattered. Her wardrobe wasn’t extensive, but her gowns had been wrinkled, along with her night dress.
Frowning, she wished she had a special gown to wear, remembering the extensive apparel she had been fitted for the London Season she never had. Nothing she had seemed appropriate for this evening.
She leaned down and picked up a small box. She opened it. The cameo was there. Relief flooded her. He had grabbed the only thing of value she had with her, the cameo her grandmother had given her. The letters, though, were gone… the letters she wrote to him even though she had been told he was dead.
Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of a gown laying out on the bed. She strolled over and felt the dark blue silk. Arthur must have left it for her as she bathed. If she held any doubt about his intentions this night, they had been answered. This was not a gown she could wear out of the privacy of her room. A beautiful silken nightdress.
Arthur expected her to wear the gown tonight, she was sure. Remembering the warmth of his last embrace, she donned the gown. The material shimmered down her bare body, knowing well she would deny him nothing.
A slight knock from the adjoining room diverted her attention to the man who walked into her room. He looked magnificent. He wore a richly deep green dressing gown. His tawny hair was tousled; his lips curved upward. His blue eyes simmered with a smoldering hunger.
Her skin tingled with awareness. Mesmerized, she could not take her eyes off of him. She felt an intake of breath as a tremble skidded through her body.
“I have dinner prepared in my room, if it pleases you.”
“I am pleased,” she said. She lowered her eyes with a sudden shyness. Pressing down the gown, she whispered, “Arthur, I’m unsure of what you want me to do at this moment.”
“Have I been that remiss, Harriet?” he asked in a soft, husky tone. He reached out and touched her, sliding his hands into the softness of her hair. “You know I want you. I want all of you. For so long, I have been denied this… you. Do not deny me my desire any longer, my love. I need you, want you… love you.”
“Arthur, we should wait until we are married,” she whispered in a rather poor protest. All the while, she tilted her head up towards his.
He dipped his head and lightly touched her parted lips, tasting her. “Do not ask me to wait any longer. While I was gone, I dreamed of this moment. After I returned, you haunted me. Tell me you want me as I want you.”
“I want you, Arthur.”
The moment he walked into the room, he was undone. She was ravishing. Her long fair hair streamed about her, reaching below her waist… a shining, rippling golden mane. The gown clung to her figure most provocatively, revealing her dark nipples, tautly peaked.
He had well gone beyond any pretense that he would behave as a gentleman. Compelling desire obscured reason. God in Heaven, he wanted more. He wanted her.
This moment was inevitable. Being alone with her, he had no control of this need. She sent him over the edge of control, driving him mad with want. He had to have her, to know her… to bury himself inside her.
His hand slid down her gown. He heard her breath—rapid, excited—when his hand moved upward and cupped her breast. Blood pulsed through him. She gazed up at him and wrapped her arms around him.
Kissing her deeply, he pushed the edge of the gown down and exposed her breast to his view. His lips trailed to the base of her neck until his mouth found the tip of her breast and suckled.
“Oh, Arthur.” His name escaped her lips along with gasps of delight.
She made him crazed. He ached for her, but he would not rush. He wanted this to be special for her.
“A moment only,” he murmured. He untied his belt. Then he reached down and took the hem of her gown. Pulling the silk over her head, she stood completely uncovered.
He couldn’t take his eyes from her. She was lovely, exquisitely so. Her breasts were high and firm; her legs, hips, her mound illuminated in the firelight. His arousal hardened, sending him over the edge of restraint.
Dropping his robe to the floor, he guided her back to the bed and laid her down. Immediately he covered her with his body. She was perceptibly nervous. Her trembling body betrayed her.
“I love you,” he said, kissing her lips. “I want you to know that. I never stopped loving you.”
He captivated her. She was spellbound. He had made certain of that fact. She hungered for his touch. She tried to form words that told him of her desire, but she found herself incapable of speech, for his hands were doing wicked things.
He slid one of his hands down, squeezing her bottom. His fingers parted her legs and eased them apart. Harriet moaned as his fingers stroked her most special place, igniting a cascade of pleasurable shocks.
Her body throbbed with an unknown want. He kissed her, lured her with his touch into a madness, devastating her to the point where she cried for him to end this sweet torture. Never had she felt so alive. She wanted him… hungered for him to the point where passion owned her.
Taut and hard, he raised himself over her and pressed into her. Suddenly, he seemed a man possessed. His own desire overwhelmed his control. He pushed forward through the resistance. She cried out. Only then did he slow… until her face eased as the discomfort passed.
Then he took her hard, thrusting into her, filling her and sensations exploded. She shuddered as waves of pleasure swept through her. Now she was his, totally and completely. He collapsed on her. Never had she been happier.
In a low, husky voice, he whispered, “My God, woman, I am never letting you go. If I know nothing else in this world, I am not complete without you.”
He kissed her. She laid her head on his chest, content.
* * * *
In the dark of night, Harriet lay quietly with Arthur’s arms wrapped around her. Tomorrow they would arrive at her new home. The journey had been slow, but Arthur hadn’t seemed to be in any hurry. The last few days, they seemed to have spent more time in bed than the carriage.
Arthur, in his manner, dismissed her fears of this behavior.
“We aren’t married yet, Arthur,” Harriet protested. “What will people say? They will think I’m fast.”
“Never.” He soothed her fears. “I’m not using my title traveling. Neither have I given your true name. Quite discreet, I assure you.”
“Someone could easily recognize you, Arthur. I don’t want to disgrace you.”
“Never. You can’t fault me for wanting you all to myself for the time being,” he said. “We will have time enough to sort out all the wretched details.”
“I still can’t fathom the lengths that were taken. Why? They hated me so much…”
“Not you, my love. Not you. Your parents and the scandal that surrounded them both. Much weighed on my grandfather. His desire for me to fill his shoes without a hint of scandal linked to our name. I should have suspected with the ease he accepted our engagement that he might have had other plans.”
“It frightens me, Arthur.”
Arthur’s arms tightened around her. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said firmly. “And I will make everyone pay for this deceit.”
“Uncle Walter…”
“Ssh, Harriet. Don’t concern yourself. All you need to know is that you will be safe. There is one thing, though, you need to know that I held back from you. It is about your grandmother.”
He needed not to have said another word. Harriet knew her grandmother had passed. She choked back her tears. “Did she suffer?”
“No, my darling. She passed in her sleep.
It was peaceful, they said.” He soothed her. “You can take solace in the knowledge. I have no desire to upset you, but I felt you needed to know about your grandmother.
“It is a lot to comprehend. It will take time. Know I will be by your side. I won’t attempt to leave until I see you settled.”
“Leave? I need you, Arthur.” Harriet’s voice betrayed her fear. “You are going to take me with you wherever you are going. We could marry quietly. I desire nothing except being with you.”
“My darling, as you can surmise, things are complicated. Trust me to handle everything in good order,” he murmured in her ear. “You have nothing to concern yourself with at the moment except me.”
He pushed back her braid and buried his face in her neck. The whole of her body shivered with his lips against her sensitized skin. Skin on skin, he moved against her. His hand rounded her breast, arousing an intense passion his touch brought, along with the awareness of her raging need for him.
Breathless, she felt his other hand between her thighs, pressing against her mound. In a long caress, his skilled fingers stroked her burning need and maddened her until waves of heat shattered her control. Moaning, a hundred…a thousand tiny sensations burst within her.
She turned to face him and he plundered her mouth with his own, making her crazed. Desire for him burned. She writhed against him, feeling well his hard, erect manhood.
She gripped tightly his shoulders, urging him closer… closer. She needed him closer. He laughed… teasing her… torturing her. He bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. Sucking on her breast undid Harriet. Her body shuddered with want. She could take no more. She wanted him inside her. She called out his name.
Opening herself up to him, she made no attempt to hide her desire. He mounted her then. She grew frenzied, eagerly accepting his every thrust until unrelenting throbbing in her loins erupted. She cried out as she felt his release. Pleasurable spasms climaxed through her, again and again.
Seductive Lies Page 6
