Visions of Lady Mary

by Rachel Ann Smith

  Mary’s lips feathered over his—her kisses soft with a hint of urgency. He let his lips languish over hers. Go slow. Be gentle. His body in opposition, ached to take and plunder the lush woman in his arms.

  Pulling back from him, Mary cupped his face. “Aunt Agnes advised me to lie back and relax, but your kisses have me restless, and my body wants to move. I want to—”

  Gilbert silenced her with a bruising kiss, rolling onto his back and pulling Mary partially on top of him. For if she continued with her emboldened speech, he might lose all self-control and take her right now.

  Mary lowered her hand to run it down his side. Every inch of his body came alive, and he groaned as he realized this night, what remained of it, was going to test his restraint. Mary’s leg fell between his as she shifted closer, pressing her glorious naked body against his. She molded her body to his until she found the perfect angle in which they fit together. He wanted to mirror Mary’s actions, to run a hand over every delicious curve of her, but he sensed Mary would prefer he be the one to lie back and relax.

  They had left the celebrations shortly after midnight, giving them but four hours until their departure. He could afford a little less sleep if it meant Mary’s first time went well. He let his eyes close as Mary continued her exploration of him. Her lips grazed his cheek as they made their way near his ear. “Are you content to allow me to do with you as I please?”

  Gilbert inhaled deeply and nodded.

  “Excellent.” The excitement in her voice sent shivers down his back.

  Mary whispered, “I want to pleasure you with my mouth.”

  He opened his eyes. Mary loomed over him.

  If he allowed her to do as she wished, would he be able to regain his strength to consummate the marriage?

  Control. He simply had to exercise control and prevent himself from spilling in her oh-so-sweet mouth.

  Gulping Gilbert said, “Wife, if you do that, I warn you there is a good chance we might not be legally married by morn.”

  Frown lines formed on Mary’s beautiful forehead.

  “There is not much time left this eve, and if you succeed in—” The glow upon Mary’s features faded as he continued to speak. To hell with the consequences. “Never mind, lass. Carry on, dinnae worry. Do with me as you please.”

  The smile she granted him was worth the risk of not making their union legitimate. No one but them would be the wiser. Mary was his, and he’d not let her go again.

  She placed kisses along his neck and nibbled on his collarbone. He sucked in a deep breath. She ran a finger followed by her tongue down the center of his chest. Ah, what a clever lass to have learned the art of bed sport so adeptly. Gilbert groaned as her lips trailed past his navel, all the way down to his full arousal.

  Glancing briefly up at him, Mary placed her mouth upon the tip of him. He wound his fingers in her soft tresses as she lowered her lips around him slowly, inch by inch, until there was no possible way she could take more. He shifted, not wanting to hurt her. She surprised him by winding her hand around the base and increasing the pressure of her lips. She began to slide her lips and tongue up and down his shaft, banishing any coherent thoughts he might have had.

  He clenched his hand, tugging her hair. Mary moaned and her gaze locked on his face.

  She released him. “Are you in pain? Were my brother’s boasts of how—”

  Gilbert reached for her, but she shifted back, inches out of reach. He ran a hand over his face. “Lass, I dinnae ken what yer brothers shared, but I was no’ in pain.”

  Mary licked the length of him. “Would you like me to continue?” She eyed his erection like a candied nut—her favorite treat.

  Gilbert replied with a hearty, “Aye.”

  Mary swirled her tongue over and down his shaft. Gilbert lifted his head to place both hands behind it. The sight of her sweet lips around his member sent a jolt of need through him. The tip of him hit what was undoubtedly the back of her throat, yet she didn’t fully release him or choke; instead, she rolled her tongue about him. Every inch of his skin increased in sensitivity as her lips inched back up and then back down again.

  Heaving for a breath, Gilbert croaked, “Lass—I’ll not be able to withstand much more.”

  Mary slowly withdrew her lips but continued to pleasure him with her hand, gliding it up and down, as she asked, “Am I hurting you?”

  “Ah—it’s—not—that.” Gilbert shook his head. He couldn’t even manage a simple sentence. How was he to explain?

  Mary smiled and returned her lips to his member. One of his hands slipped back into her silky hair. She flicked her tongue over him once before sliding her mouth about him. This time she increased the pace of her movements, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from her lips wound tightly about him—she was magnificent. Hoping he wasn’t gripping her hair too tightly, he felt his balls tighten, fully engulfed in her mouth. The surge of his release began at the base until he exploded into the back of her sweet throat. Mary pulled back with a pop as her lips left him. She continued to stare at his member.

  Gilbert reached for her. “I—I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

  Why was Mary still staring?

  The woman’s flushed cheeks heated his blood. He glanced at his cock, still straight as an arrow. He wanted her and mercifully so did his body.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Mary’s smile was wide with satisfaction and awe. “We can both reach pleasure without risk of conceiving.”

  “Aye, but there are other ways to ensure you do not become enceinte.”

  Mary giggled. “Oh, and are you willing to educate me tonight?”

  Kneeling between his legs, the minx brushed the tip of her nipple along this erect member. She will be the death of me if I continue to allow her full rein. Rising to a sitting position, he ran his hands down her back as she licked and teased his balls with her tongue. He needed to be inside her. Running a hand over her bottom, he slipped the tip of his finger into her crevasse. He let out a groan as the slickness between her folds covered his finger, allowing it to glide over her core. Mary was more than ready to take him, and he couldn’t wait a moment longer. Trailing his hands up along her sides, he gripped her by the arms and raised her to meet his lips. Their mouths hungry for each other, he infused his kisses with raw need.

  Mary edged closer, pressing her chest to his as she wound her arms about his neck. Leaning to one side, Gilbert positioned her leg to the outside of his leg and then repeated the action so that she straddled him. Now that he had her in position, he deepened the kiss, then pulled back to place a string of kisses down her neck. He wanted to taste more of her. Placing his hands upon her tiny waist, he raised her to her knees so her hardened nipples were in line with his mouth. Gilbert flicked the tip of his tongue over and over Mary’s nipple until a moan escaped her. No longer interested in teasing her, he finally drew her breast into his mouth. His heart crashed against his chest as she screamed out his name.

  He craved to make her scream his name every day for the rest of his living days. Reaching between them, he checked to see if she was still wet. Ready, he rubbed his tip over her slit until she lowered herself without his prompting or guidance. The woman was attuned to his needs and wants. She was small and extremely tight. He managed to wedge the tip of him inside when she froze. He immediately stopped loving on her breasts and glanced up to meet her gaze.

  The uncertainty in her eyes had him lifting her up and back onto his lap. “Lass, did I hurt you?”

  “No, it’s—” Mary raised a hand. Her fingers curled to meet her thumb to form a circle. She tried to jam her fingers into the small opening. “We don’t appear to fit together.”

  Gilbert gulped in a deep breath suppressing the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape. If he was going to make her his tonight, he needed to alleviate her fears. “Do you trust me?”

  Mary leaned in and kissed him. “Yes, of course I do.”

  While he debated whether th
eir current position was wise, Mary repositioned herself just above him. Her hand ran down his chest and reached between them, guiding him to her core. In full control, Mary didn’t hesitate and steadily lowered herself. A frown appeared on her brow. Mary was extremely tight. Having never bedded a virgin before, the pressure against the tip of him was foreign. He ran his hands up her sides, over her pert breasts, and pulled her down for a kiss. Gilbert swallowed her yelp as she took all of him. Fixated on her mouth and not their joining, he continued to kiss her, infusing it with all the love he could muster. Mary was his, and he’d never leave her again.

  Certain it had been mere moments ago that he closed his eyes, Gilbert groaned as Hadfield’s boots stomped into his room. Mary was abed with him. He shot up to cover her, but the bed was empty. Where was the woman?

  “Your wife went to the kitchens to arrange food for us all.”

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Gilbert asked, “What time is it?”

  “An hour past our agreed-upon departure time. Mary convinced me to allow you to slumber awhile longer while she finalized arrangements and said her goodbyes.”

  “That was considerate of her.”

  His clothes hit him square in the chest.

  “You don’t deserve her.”

  “I know.” He rubbed his jaw; he needed a shave, but there was no time for that. Dressing quickly and grabbing his greatcoat, he noticed Hadfield by the window, watching events below. “What has caught your interest?”

  “Valois gave André an item.”

  “A letter?”

  “No, something wrapped in cloth. What the devil is the man up to now?”

  Gilbert peered down as André placed the item in his breast pocket. “We will have to question the lad once we are on our way.” He turned to leave, but Hadfield’s hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he glanced back out the window. Mary stood next to Valois and was now holding out her hand while she tapped her foot.

  André retrieved the item as he shook his head. The lad’s lips were moving until André’s gaze met Mary’s. Unable to hear the conversation was irritating, but once Mary had the item, she deftly tucked it into her décolletage, swiveled, and walked away.

  “What do you think that was about?” When Hadfield didn’t respond, Gilbert turned to find the room empty.

  Hadfield had a good ten-step lead, but Gilbert was faster as they rushed downstairs and out through the doors. He barely won the footrace to reach their mounts and Mary first.

  Gilbert looked up at his wife, who was looking regal seated upon her mare. “My thanks for the extra rest this morn.”

  “You are welcome, husband. I thought you deserved it.” A blush rose on Mary’s cheeks, and he wished he was whisking her away for a honeymoon instead of escorting Hadfield home.

  Once he was seated upon his horse, he leaned over to give Mary a chaste kiss. “Shall we be off?”

  “Finally,” André muttered.

  Mary shifted to address Hadfield. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with you. Gilbert, please go on and take the lead.”

  Hadfield simply nodded and waited for Gilbert to pass. Curiosity gnawed at him, but she had asked him for his trust—to allow her to assist. He wasn’t about to disappoint her on their very first day of marriage.

  Resigned to the fact he might never be privy to all the woman’s thoughts, he believed last night he had wriggled his way into her heart, even if it was only a smidgeon. Gilbert still had years’ worth of neglect to make up for.

  Setting a reasonably sedate pace in an attempt to eavesdrop on his wife’s conversation, Gilbert was disappointed to find the woman spoke in hushed tones, eluding his petty attempts.

  Giving up on gaining information from the two behind, he eyed André and asked, “What did you give my wife?”

  André’s entire body stiffened. “Merely a wedding present, my lord.”

  At the lad’s obstinate features, Gilbert sighed. André was clearly not going to provide more information. He would have to wait to see for himself later when they stopped to rest. The idea of having Mary in his arms again had him shifting and urging his horse along. The sooner they arrived at the inn, the better.

  Chapter Thirty

  Her husband might be an extremely skilled agent, but Mary had years of practice at being patient. Finally, Gilbert gave up his attempts to eavesdrop and moved along.

  Raising a hand to her chest, she ran a finger over the outline of the coin. “I’ve been informed that I have an object in my possession that rightfully belongs to an individual who bears a particular mark. Would you happen to know who that might be?”

  The devilishly handsome dimple appeared on Lord Hadfield cheek. “A mark, you say.”

  Unperturbed by the man’s dimple, Mary said, “Yes. Not the type that one might find on a baby at birth, one that is intentionally placed upon a person’s body with heat or ink.”

  “And what makes you suspect I would know this individual?”

  The teasing tone of Lord Hadfield’s question brought her ire up. He wasn’t taking her seriously.

  Narrowing her gaze, Mary said, “Theo stated you would assist me if I asked. I’m asking if you can help me locate this person.” The hair on the back of Mary’s neck began to stand on end.

  “Why did you not seek your husband’s assistance?” His tone no longer teasing. Lord Hadfield’s hazel eyes never left hers.

  Flustered at the intensity of his stare, she said, “Really, I don’t have time to explain. I was told it extremely important that I find a— well, a PORF.”

  “Why?”

  Lord Hadfield hadn’t blinked at her use of the term PORF. He must be well versed with the legends as they were.

  The magnitude of what she was about to share weighed on her shoulders. “Because I have in my possession the treasure that Lord Burke was truly after. But I suspect you already know what the villain was after.” A tingle ran down Mary’s spine. Ignoring the sensation, she continued, “That is why you let Matthew take the crown jewels back to England while you did not return. You were still searching for—.”

  She paused at Lady Frances’s frantic warning. Alert Hadfield! You are being followed.

  Mary whispered, “There are others behind us.”

  “Yes, I heard them too. Act normally, as if we haven’t detected them. Let’s try to catch up to your husband.”

  Gilbert was a furlong away, not too far ahead. It was unlikely they would be able to outrun whoever was following them.

  Phillip’s voice urged, Shift to the right.

  Pulling on the reins, Mary guided her mount closer to Hadfield on her right, causing his horse to startle.

  Hadfield glared at her. “What the devil—”

  An explosion sounded behind her. The air swooshed by her right ear.

  From her right, Hadfield yelled, “Hell and Tarnation!”

  Horses whinnied and the group scattered.

  Mary took her eyes off the road to find Hadfield struggling with a bandit.

  Why hadn’t Phillip warned her? Not enough time to change the outcome.

  The reins were yanked from her grasp. “Ow.”

  A meaty arm wrapped about her waist.

  She struggled to remain seated, but the smelly brute hauled her down to the ground. Mary stumbled, falling to her knees. Scrambling to escape, her attacker grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her along with her mare toward a small clearing.

  Mary cringed at the sight of three burly men with pistols. Gilbert and André were kneeling, their hands bound behind their backs. Blood trickled from the corner of Gilbert’s mouth. Her chest constricted. She wanted to shout out to him.

  Tugged away from the men, her attacker dragged her over toward the tree line.

  Mary swiveled to glance at her husband.

  Gilbert began to struggle. She shook her head but not in time—the shortest thug’s fist connected with Gilbert’s jaw. Losing his balance, Gilbert fell to his side.

  Thwack! The tormentor’
s boot connected with Gilbert’s ribs.

  “Gilbert!” Mary’s eyes teared at the sight of blood on the ground.

  Filthy fingers dug into her arm. Her captor stared at her and said, “We were not expecting a lady to be traveling with this lot. We mean no harm.”

  Mary scowled at the offensive Englishman.

  A lump settled in her throat. The bandit scanned her from head to toe. “Our master has sent us to retrieve an item; once we have it in our possession, you will all be free to go. Do you promise not to cause any problems?”

  Fingers crossed behind her back, she answered, “Yes. My husband will be less an issue if you allow me to join him.”

  “Aye. But if I suspect you interfering, I will gag and bind you without hesitation.”

  Mary nodded, and her captor led her over to the group that now included Lord Hadfield.

  Lady Frances confirmed what Mary suspected. Be very careful. You have in your possession what they seek.

  Even tied up, Gilbert would not allow these men to harm her. The trick would be to ensure they had no cause to think to search her.

  The brute left her next to Gilbert and said, “I’m seeking the gentleman who is marked.” Their captor’s gaze raked over Lord Hadfield and then André. Neither gentleman moved nor blinked.

  “Lord Waterford, who shall I strip first?”

  Mary gasped. “You know him?”

  “He was a fellow officer who moved up through the ranks during the war. Mr. Thames, I believe.”

  “Well done, Waterford. What an excellent memory. Won’t you assist me? We will release you and your lovely wife once we have what I’ve been sent to collect.”

  Gilbert answered, “Neither of them is marked. PORFs are but an old fairy tale.”

  Mary glanced at Gilbert. No one over the age of twelve openly discussed the term used to describe the Crown’s protectors. Before this morn, Mary would have agreed with her husband’s statement. She had heard the villagers and even Thomas tell tales of the Protectors of the Royal Family as a child, but without real evidence of their existence, she had dispelled the stories as pure folk tales. Not until Phillip had instructed her to retrieve the item from André and seek Lord Hadfield’s assistance in locating a PORF did she believe they were indeed real.