Voyage With a Viscount

by Murdoch, Emily

  “Oh, Rowena!”

  His hands moved fast, and she was lying on the bed, her arms pinned beside her head, and James was between her legs panting hard.

  “That was incredible,” he moaned between kisses, “but if you are to receive any great pleasure, then I need to stop you.”

  Rowena opened her mouth to reply – she was receiving pleasure, and she did not want him to think otherwise – but instead she cried out in joy as his lips moved to her breast and his tongue started to play with her nipple.

  She was starting to feel wet right where James was between her legs, and the heat there was growing as the pleasure did, and his hands has released her own and was caressed her other breast and she arched her back in uncontrolled passion, and her hands were on his back and she could not help but scratch him as the pleasure overwhelmed her, and this was everything, he was everything, they were everything together.

  And then James entered her and Rowena could not help but moan, “Oh James – yes!”

  For it was like he had come home to her, and she had been waiting for him her whole life. He fitted her perfectly and though she was tight she was wet and warm, and he delved into her with control.

  For a moment he paused, and looked down at her with wild eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

  Breathing fast, barely able to construct a sentence, Rowena shook her head wildly, and raised her lips to be kissed.

  James grinned hungrily, and lowered his face to hers – but he raised himself to leave her, and then slowly entered her again and it was too much, too good, too wonderful for words.

  But it was not enough.

  “Faster,” she moaned as his mouth moved to her other breast and lavished the same attention to it as the first. “God, James, I want you harder!”

  She did not need to ask twice. Soon a rhythm was building in her the darkest promise of release but it was not here yet and his hands were on hers and they were pinned back by her head and she struggled against him playfully, twisting her hips slightly, and James increased the pace.

  “God, Rowena, you are so – oh God!”

  The heat between them was high now, and Rowena could barely keep her eyes open with the pleasure of it all, and he was thrusting deeper and harder and faster and then she came, ecstasy upon ecstasy, pleasure after pleasure exploded through her body and she cried out.

  “Yes – oh James!”

  At the sound of his name he emptied himself into her, hard as a rock and then softening into clay, collapsing beside her with their hands still entwined.

  * * *

  Vision hazy, body tingling, James lay back with the most beautiful woman that he had ever known enwrapped in his arms. This, then, was what belonging felt like. This was what it was to connect beyond the physical. Exuberance and exultation poured through his veins as his heart pounded, trying to keep up with his exhausted mind.

  How could he not glorify in the feeling of Rowena Kerr in his arms?

  A chuckle – but not his.

  “What are you laughing about?” He murmured as he tightened his arm slightly around the giggling woman making his whole body shake with her mirth.

  Those large dark eyes turned up to look at him, and a bolt of love, pure love, there was no point denying it, shot through James.

  “It looks like I was ruined after all,” breathed Rowena with a beaming smile.

  James laughed in his turn. “Ah, but you have nothing to fear. You have my word that none shall hear of it, your secret is safe with me.”

  And what was more, he meant it. How could he ever betray such a woman: fierce and strong, yet willing to be vulnerable? He would have no hand in her ruin, he…he cared for her too much.

  He watched the long golden lashes flutter over her eyes as Rowena attempted to fight off sleep, and instinctively, James opened his mouth to speak, to keep her awake. One glance at her lithe form told him that he was more than capable of ravishing her again…

  And then he stopped, when the realisation that he was in truth far more interested in continuing to talk to her than reclaiming his position over her body.

  Well, they said it would happen eventually, thought James, heart swelling. Perhaps you did not consider that you would meet the love of your life on the road to Aylesbury, but here she is: the only woman you could ever consider as your equal in wit, merit, and far more beautiful than you would ever be described handsome.

  He watched her start to drift, willingly, into sleep, and a frown rose across his forehead. It was almost painful to remind himself that they would be departing from each other in just a few short hours. The county crossroads were but ten miles off, taking Rowena Kerr in one direction, and James, Viscount of Paendly in another.

  She would continue alone, and so would he.

  As sleep threatened to overtake him as well, James wondered how their next meeting was ever to be arranged. Marriage was never something on the cards for him, it had just never appealed. But the thought of going the rest of his life without Rowena in it? It was unthinkable.

  Unable to stave off approaching slumber any longer, the last thought before he fell asleep was whether he could install her anywhere convenient as his last, and most beloved, mistress.

  7

  Someone shot James and he jerked awake with a cry – but felt no pain.

  Hurried hands moved over his body to find the wound, and a woman slid from his side. She was warm and smiled at the movement, murmuring his name.

  James looked around him wildly. There was no one else in the room: no possibility of a gun fired. There was still no pain, and no wound either, as far as he could tell.

  He slumped back against the bed and closed his eyes. It must have been a dream. All that talk with Giselle had left more of a mark on his unconscious than he had thought.

  But then the shouting rose from below, and another bang, what he must have mistaken for a gunshot in his sleeping state.

  “What is the matter?” A sleepy voice asked beside him, and he looked down to see Rowena’s naked body tucked beside him, eyes open blearily, with a contented smile on her face.

  Another sound like a shot, and now she was starting to wake up properly.

  Rowena reached out a hand to his chest, as though for comfort. “Do you think we are in danger?” She whispered desperately. “Because of your friend – because of the spy?”

  James’ heart was racing, and not just because of the potential danger that seemed to be waiting for them downstairs: there were certain parts of his anatomy standing to attention at the mere touch of her hand on his body.

  Opening his mouth to say that it was incredibly unlikely that the noise below had anything to do with them at all, but of course it was not impossible, when a man and a woman burst into their room.

  Screaming, Rowena scrabbled to find the blanket and cover herself completely with it. James was startled, but not recognising either of them and unwilling to show fear at this early stage in the proceedings, he merely sat upright in the bed, and stared at them.

  It was difficult not to laugh. How ridiculous this all was, James thought. He could not have dreamt this up if he had tried!

  “Rowena!” The woman cried, and rushed towards her.

  James’ heart went cold. They knew Rowena – and that made it very possible that they could make public what they had discovered here. What a fool he was: they should have been up and out of this bedchamber as soon as possible. Now they were found and discovered – but by whom?

  Before he could even consider enquiring, the man stepped forward.

  “Sir, I challenge you to a duel,” he said in magnificent tones, “for Miss Rowena Kerr’s honour.”

  Something fell to the ground, and James peered down to look at it. “Sir, I think you have dropped something.”

  The man stared at him angrily. “That is my glove, you fool – I demand satisfaction!”

  James stared at him, utterly bewildered, and then down at Rowena who was attempting to hide herself completely. “Is t
his some jest, Rowena?”

  “No jest, sir!” The man stared at him with an expression of disgust that James was frankly unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of – more often than not, it was he giving such a look.

  Just as confused, James murmured to Rowena, “Is this the man with whom you eloped?”

  A bitter laugh escaped her lips as Rowena gave up the fight to be completely hidden, and emerged to sit up next to him, still pulling up the blanket to cover her breasts.

  She shook her head. “I have no idea who that gentleman is, but that lady there is Miss Adena Garland.”

  James’ eyes darted over to the woman who had now seated herself on the bed on Rowena’s side, and saw her flush with pleasure.

  “Actually,” she said in a lilting voice heavy with pride, “I am Adena, Marchioness of Dewsbury now.”

  It was clear that Rowena had no idea her friend had been so married, and the excited mutterings between them was clouding James’ brain. Marchioness of Dewsbury – so this gentleman must be…

  “I know that title,” he said slowly, his gaze returning to the man who was still looking daggers at him. “My lord, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before. I am – ”

  “I have no wish for pleasantries,” the Marquis of Dewsbury snapped.

  Adena raised a placating hand towards her husband, and murmured, “Luke…”

  “Sir, after eloping and not marrying Miss Rowena Kerr, I have no choice but to call your honour into question,” breathed the Marquis of Dewsbury heavily. “I may not be a relative of hers, but with no brother and a father still in London, I am here to defend her.”

  And James could see the fierceness of his words, how desperately he believed it. What a confusion – but surely, one easy to put right.

  “No, Adena, you do not understand,” Rowena was saying, “this is not – ”

  “Luke, turn away to the wall, please,” Adena said over her friend, nodding at her husband. “I need to get Rowena dressed and ready to depart.”

  James stared in confusion as her husband immediately obeyed, turning to face away from the bed to stare at the wall. Utterly bewildered, he muttered, “I have no understanding of what is happening here.”

  Rowena had been pulled out of bed by her friend, blushing at her utter nakedness, and was being hurriedly dressed by her friend.

  This was intolerable, thought James. This misunderstanding had to be corrected.

  “Marquis, there has been a mistake,” he began. “How did you find us? I mean – ”

  “You have besmirched my wife’s friend,” the Marquis snapped angrily to the wall. “I will challenge you on her honour with a duel, and if you are too cowardly to meet the challenge then I will know you for what you already are, you cur!”

  James felt the anger rising in his chest and into his head, but in part it was directed at himself. He knew that he was technically in the wrong here: as ill-informed as the Marquis was, his instincts were good. He had certainly taken the virtue and innocence of Rowena, though they had both enjoyed it greatly, and he would probably do the same thing if a man had done such a thing to his sister, if he had one to protect.

  For only the second time in his life, a feeling of great impulsiveness crept over him. Well, why not reclaim his honour and Rowena’s at the same stroke?

  “I accept your duel,” he replied quietly to the back of the Marquis’ head.

  “No!” Rowena cried out as she forced her arm through her gown. “No, James, you must not – ”

  “James?” Adena said quickly. “But that was not the name on the note you left your parents. What – ”

  “No time like the present,” snarled the Marquis, who took a step to his left and wrenched open the door.

  James rose swiftly from the bed and grasped at his clothes. He was a relatively good man with a blade, he thought as he pulled on his shirt – the best fencer at his club. Surely a duel was very similar to that, without much difference save the potential fate at the event.

  He swallowed as he pulled on his boots. Perhaps he had been hasty in accepting this duel; for all he knew, this Marquis could be a champion at his own club. They had certainly not moved in the same circles before, and he had no knowledge of his skill with a sword. What if –

  “Are you coming, man, or no?” The Marquis’ irritated voice rose from the stairs.

  “Now,” James managed, almost out of breath at the speed at which he had dressed.

  Adena was still speaking. “But Rowena, he is not the man – ”

  “James, do not be so foolish!” Rowena cut across her, and as James strode purposefully out of the room he had two pairs of footsteps following him.

  “This is no sight for a lady.” The Marquis was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and James saw him shake his head at his wife. “Adena, please – ”

  “Do you think I am likely to stay here while you risk your life?” She shot back.

  James smiled, despite his racing heart, as he reached the Marquis. “I can see why Rowena and your wife are friends.”

  But there was no answering smile in the Marquis’ face. “Outside. I demand satisfaction.”

  And so here we are, thought James with an almost bitter smile. A short journey by coach was all I intended, and here I stand outside the King’s Head Inn, of all places, with the memories of a night filled with overwhelming pleasure just disappearing as I fight for the honour of a woman who had already lost it when I encountered her.

  I wanted excitement, he thought ruefully. And now more than anything, I want a second who knows his way around a pistol. Never before has the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ been more true.

  “Here you go, sir.”

  The last word was uttered with such contempt that James almost blanched, and he opened up his hand willingly without seeing properly what was being handed to him.

  It was a pistol. James swallowed. He had assumed swords; although most duels were fought with pistols these days, it was more common across the high nobility to favour the old ways. Swords were preferable. He knew where he was with a sword. But a pistol…

  “Do you…ah, ‘tis no matter.” James could see immediately that any request would be ignored by this man who looked at him as though he was nothing, as though he were dirt on his shoes. “But do you not wish to know the name of the man whom you have accused?”

  He saw the battle on the Marquis’ face: to say yes was to admit interest, but to say no would be churlish. His breath rose in the cold as the four of them stood in the cool morning air.

  Good manners eventually won out. “To whom am I speaking, sir?”

  There was little grace in his words, and James saw Rowena glower at him which only made his heart beat faster.

  “I am James, Viscount of Paendly,” James said in the strongest voice he could muster.

  He saw the surprise in the Marquis’ face. Evidently, he had not expected a titled man to stand before him, and it looked as though there was a moment’s hesitation in his eyes.

  “Luke, I must speak with you,” Adena came rushing towards him. “I think we have made a – ”

  “I had never expected a voyage with a viscount to end with the dishonouring of an innocent woman,” the Marquis said brusquely, ignoring his wife and indicating that the two men should move forward with his outstretched arm.

  James’ heart was beating even faster now, and the voice of Rowena calling “No!” seemed to be moving further and further away from him. Or perhaps it was because he was moving: the blood pounding in his ears was enough to distract him entirely, so it was almost impossible to tell.

  He had hoped for something exciting, but surely even Rowena herself could not have guessed that his impulsive decision to offer her passage closer to home could have led to this!

  “Twenty paces? To first blood?”

  James nodded, and the Marquis stared at him for a moment, as though unsure exactly whether to say anything more – but he decided against it. Turning away f
rom him, the Marquis took a stride forward and counted, “One.”

  James hurried to do the same. One, two, three: each step took him closer to his fate, and his heart seemed to know it, pumping faster and faster as though it was attempting to use up all its strength, make up for any time that would be lost.

  Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Rowena standing there, her gaze fixed on him, turning as he moved like a sunflower followed the sun.

  An overwhelming feeling of love poured over him. She was worth this, Rowena Kerr was: she was worth almost everything. There was no woman like her, no one at all, and to just spend that night in her arms was almost enough.

  And then he remembered the feel of her breasts in his hands, and the way her hair flowed over him, and the twist of the smile and look in her eyes as he took her to ecstasy, and James knew that he would never allow any man to touch her again.

  She belonged to him, and he belonged to her – and this duel would seal it.

  He stopped, and turned on the spot to face the Marquis.

  “Ready?”

  James nodded, not trusting his voice to speak lest it shake and reveal his fear. The pistol was heavy in his hand. How long had it been since he had last fired a pistol? He was a little rusty, but as long as his eye was still in…and there he had been, not three days hence, laughing at Giselle for suggesting a little target practice. By God, that he had taken her up on her offer!

  Adena bit her lip and took a step forward, a white handkerchief in her hands. The beating of his heart pounded ever harder in James’ ears.

  This was it.

  As the white material fluttered down to the ground, James raised the heavy pistol and fired – and felt a terrible pain flare in his other arm.

  8

  “Careful, man!” James winched as another bandage was tightened around his left arm.

  Rowena could not help but smile at the outraged indignity on his face as her friend Adena glared back at him.