The Dark Regent

by Catherine Lloyd

  Fawn did not move a step. Her heart was bursting. She reached up to smooth a lock of black hair from his brow. His skin was icy and yet damp with perspiration.

  “Why do you insist on suffering? Why do you insist on putting up walls between us? I cannot marry Jameson now. I never will. How can you marry Gillian?”

  He took her hand in his and rubbed the palm with his thumb, its rough pressure squeezing the bones in her hand. Crispin’s stormy blue gaze bore into her soul and she felt a thrill of union ... an unearthly connection that she recognized in the dim recesses of her being.

  “We were created for one another, you and I,” he said putting her thoughts into words. “And yet we are fated to create misery in everyone around us if we come together. Jocelyn, Gillian and now Corporal Jameson will suffer. Can you bear that guilt?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She lifted her face to his. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  Crispin bent, seizing her face in his hands and kissed her mouth with wild abandon.

  Fawn clutched him around the neck as he lifted her off her feet and carried her to a bed of straw. His mouth was relentless, lips and tongue claiming her, melting her to soft wax. She closed her eyes. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Crispin opened her bodice, kissing her neck and the rise of her breasts. Her body was on fire for him; a double-edged sword of demand and helplessness that took possession of her. This time, Fawn would not stop him.

  His voice was in her ear, low and hoarse, uttering the dark secrets he’d kept in his heart for months. The love he had fought from the moment he saw her, the peculiar craving he had to be in her company, her constant presence in his thoughts, always, always with him until driven by torment, he got the key and entered her room.

  “That was my damnation. I reasoned if you despised me, I might find peace. I would be damned, but there was no other way—I couldn’t escape. I loved you like a dagger loves human flesh.”

  “Stop, stop,” she soothed, raining kisses on his eyes, lips and cheeks. “Those dreadful scenes are in the past. I love you, I love you. I want you, Crispin ... please....”

  He drew back, looking into her eyes. “Do you know what you are asking?”

  “Yes.” She felt a blush rising and forced it back into the cool dark. “There is only one memory I want to carry into my old age—that of you making love to me. For me, there is only you ... only you. I don’t want another.”

  Slowly, with terrible strain, Crispin lifted the hem of her gown.

  He stilled, awed again by her beauty. Despite his best intentions, he could not prevent what they both wanted to happen. The hem of her dress snaked up her thigh and he cupped her bare bottom. Fawn shifted her weight, drawing near under his arm and Crispin gathered her to him. She sighed and pressed her face against his neck. He kissed her cheek and eyes, caressing the silky waves of her hair.

  There was tenderness in his touch, now that there was no risk of exposing what he felt for her. He had already bared his soul and because this would be their first and last time together, Crispin was resolved to hold nothing back.

  Fawn snuggled her small warmth against him and Crispin’s cock tightened, hardening with a will of its own. The bodice of her dress was open, exposing her breasts; pliable and generous, he roared in the back of his throat when they pressed against his chest. Her loving surrender was healing him, filling in the cracks that grief had etched in his soul.

  Even in surrender, she was sweetness itself, burying her face against his neck and kissing him until it was he who surrendered to her. Fawn moved and sighed in contentment. Crispin cradled her in his arms and slid his fingers between her legs, stroking her to a heightened state of arousal.

  She did not speak or make any sound at all.

  His cock hardened, pressing against his breeches as he stared at Fawn’s incredible breasts. They were heavy and impossibly high given their size, the size of melons with rosy nipples that puckered in the cool air. She was perfection, unmatched by the women he had known.

  Her hips lifted under his fingering and her eyes fluttered closed. Fawn’s cherry mouth fell open when he drove his finger into her untried womanhood, still resistant to penetration. He was huge—the way he always got when he was with her. Crispin admired her smooth, flat belly, wondering how such a small body could take a man of his size.

  He had not touched her before. Not really. Not like this.

  Hardly aware of what he was doing, Crispin moved lower between her legs and bent his lips to the hard satin bud between her labia folds.

  Fawn’s eyes flew open when a new sensation went through her. Crispin’s tongue was probing the centre of her being—a place she had not known existed except maybe in a fantasy of what lovemaking must be like. She was no longer aware of her surroundings or why she was there. He was pleasuring her with his mouth. His boldness was so startling and forbidden that Fawn had to stop thinking about it.

  And when she did, she just felt.

  Crispin suckled her sex with abandon.

  Exquisite ... terrible ... building ... carnality turned her into another person. Fawn clutched his hair in her hands, dimly aware that his handsome face was between her thighs. The sensation of his wonderfully silky, curling hair between her legs was a new intoxication. Her sex seemed to be joined to his mouth, to his full lips, his tongue and teeth that would not stop its exquisite torture.

  Something was happening ... she did not know what to expect until she was caught up in it. Crispin suckled, alternating with rapid flicks of his tongue over her sex that drove her wild. This could not be happening—this could not be right! Her body lifted, her back bent and Fawn cried out as a wave of sexual pleasure crashed through her.

  He gripped her buttocks in his powerful hands and drank her fluids until she felt drained of everything she used to know and everything she used to be. Confusion and doubt whirled through her mind—Crispin was no longer her tormentor and he never would be again. She was a woman and this magnificent man was her lover.

  Wolfe flung back and rose to his feet. The bulge beneath his trousers was huge, pressing against the cloth as though it might spring free when released. Standing over her, he unfastened the buttons of his frock coat, loosened his silk cravat, and removed his white silk shirt.

  Her eyes drank in his smooth, muscled chest, down to the tight riding breeches that revealed his intense lust for her. Crispin removed each boot and flung them aside. He stripped out of his breeches quickly and her eyes went to the organ that jutted out like a staff from the thick mat between his thighs. His testicles hung heavy and huge, covered in shiny black hairs. Crispin Wolfe’s sex to her inexperienced eyes was massive.

  He dropped to his knees and gripped her thighs in his powerful arms.

  Crispin shifted his weight above her, covering her with his body and parting her legs with his thighs. Fawn’s body tensed and then relaxed as a warm wave of trust flowed through her. She was ready.

  Crispin pressed against her womanhood, trembling with the control he was exerting. He entered her slowly, fractions that were uncomfortable at the same time they were addictive. Unable to control his need any longer, Crispin drove his cock deep inside her, breaking through the tight, final barrier to claiming her.

  Fawn stiffened. Her eyes flew open wide. Reflexively, she raised her hand to strike him. Crispin caught her wrists and pinned them down. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “It hurts!”

  “The first time is painful but the pain will soon pass. Do you love me, Fawn?”

  Her heart swelled. She loved him and the pain was a symbol of her love, a covenant. Wolfe would be forever etched in her mind as her true love, her only love. The last barrier between them was broken. Fawn’s response to his penetration transformed from resistance to surrender. She lifted her hips, giving into him; almost as greedy for his sex as he was for hers.

  The outcome was explosive. Her passion fed his. Crispin suckled and nipped her breasts. He struggled to hold back but the climax overpowered him and he ejacul
ated deep inside her womb.

  Crispin slumped over her, his body trembling and weak, waiting for his pulse to return to normal. He had not intended to spill his seed inside her. There were methods to prevent conception. But making love to her was like being on a wild stallion—terrifying, thrilling and out of his control.

  Fawn clung to him, trembling, and kissed him feverishly.

  “What is this?” Crispin smiled at her tears.

  He tried to recover his edge, to regain control of his emotions, but as Crispin stroked her cheek he marvelled at what had happened between them, at the new light in her eyes when she gazed at him. What did she see in him that no one else had? He was unknown even to himself. Only Fawn saw the man he could be—the man he was determined to be from now on.

  “Fawn.”

  He was about to ask her forgiveness but she touched his lips with her fingers and the words died on his lips. They lay on their sides, gazing at one another for a long moment in silence.

  Finally, with great reluctance, Fawn rose from the straw bed and restored her clothes to order. Crispin inspected her hair for telltale debris and then hand-in-hand, they walked to the door.

  “Fool that I am ... I thought making love to you would free me. It has only made it worse. Be kind to Corporal Jameson for my sake. He might have a lifetime with you but I’ve had this hour. I am the victor.”

  He kissed her hand and then her lips, and at last Crispin released her.

  “I’m going for a ride—a long one,” he added with a rueful grin. “I won’t return until I can trust myself to look at you sensibly.” His face grew serious. “You must understand there is no future for us, Fawn. I cannot marry you. Jocelyn has had her revenge. From beyond the grave, she is forcing me to give you up.”

  Tears spilled in rivulets down her cheeks. “There must be some way....”

  “There isn’t,” Crispin said harshly. “I will disavow any relation to you if you even so much as hint that we loved each other. So help me God, Fawn. If I cannot defend myself against a charge of murder, they will come after you too. You will hang as my accomplice.”

  Her eyes widened in horror, at last understanding the danger.

  “After today, we will never see each other again. I’ll marry Gillian and you will marry Wilfred. The feelings we had for each other will slide into memory. Do I make myself clear?”

  Fawn nodded but she did not agree. The love she had for Crispin would never be less than the brilliant fire it was now. He was right—making love had only deepened their need to be together. As though the joining of their flesh had twinned their souls and there would never be peace for either of them until they were together again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  TWO PAIRS of eyes watched the couple standing at the stable door, locked in an embrace. Molly had arrived from the village path to begin her day’s work and cast a quick glance across the courtyard toward the stables.

  A strange scene—the master was caressing his niece’s cheek. Molly hesitated for it was a curious hour for Miss Heathcote to be up and around and there was something odd in their manner with each other. Miss Heathcote appeared to be crying.

  Then Captain Wolfe kissed his niece on the mouth with a shocking intimacy that left no room for doubt! Red-faced, Molly fumbled open the kitchen door and ducked inside. Her mind raced over what she had seen. Facts must be faced—Captain Wolfe was taking liberties with his ward. She did not fault Miss Heathcote who was clearly under her guardian’s spell.

  Molly recalled Fawn’s staunch defence of her uncle over that terrible business in London. Everyone had assumed she was speaking the truth—but what if she was coerced?

  There was no chance of doing anything about it now. Breakfast first and when they had all gone out for a ramble, Molly would slip out to the village. Her young man, Constable Martin would know what to do.

  THE SECOND pair of eyes observing the couple also ran off to relay what he had seen but Lady Coleridge was less incensed by Albus’s tale than he expected. Instead, she seemed to view Wolfe’s romantic tryst with his ward as an opportunity. Though what sort of opportunity, Albus could only surmise it would have something to do with pushing forward their wedding date.

  “Can I trust you, Albus, to use this information to assist me? I am not concerned with Wolfe’s sexual appetite. My sole interest is in securing him as a husband and I will not brook interference on that score.”

  Albus feigned shock and dismay. He pressed his hand to his chest, protesting. “My dear lady, I have only your best interests at heart. I suggest we look into this further and see how it might be used to our mutual benefit. Discretion, my dear, is at the heart of every civilization.”

  A few hours later on a ramble over the bluff, Albus Laleham seized his chance.

  FAWN PAUSED on the rise of cliff at the very spot she had tried to jump more than a week ago. The sea was blue and serene in stark contrast to her thoughts which were sunk in muddy chaos. Crispin was strolling ahead arm-in-arm with Lady Coleridge while Corporal Jameson had been detained at the house by a letter from his commanding officer that he was obliged to answer without delay.

  Albus Laleham sidled up to Fawn, smiling craftily. “The views around Hawkcliffe are astounding, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Heathcote? This morning, for instance, I witnessed the most intriguing exchange from the window that faces the stables. I wasn’t spying, you mustn’t think that! I have the dreariest view—or so I thought until I saw you in a torrid embrace with your aunt’s brother, Captain Wolfe.”

  She flushed to her scalp. “Oh, yes. I was going for a walk and he wished me good morning.”

  “He wished you considerably more than that from what I could see. The captain must be a particular sort of uncle to kiss you in that fashion.”

  Laleham interjected his squat rotund body between her and Crispin, slowing her progress. “Captain Wolfe is expecting us to keep up and will become impatient when we don’t.” She spoke firmly hoping to alarm the man into letting her pass unmolested.

  “Nonsense, your uncle is quite content with Lady Coleridge. We shall certainly catch up with them in good time. What a delightful place Hawkcliffe Hall is! So perfectly private ... one might entertain all sorts of ideas in such a remote location. As it happens, I have a proposition for you, my dear.”

  Laleham took her hand to draw her into an intimate embrace. Fawn jerked her hand away and removed herself to the far edge of the cliff. The man followed with a too-eager look in his eye.

  “Calm yourself, Miss Heathcote. I assure you that even if I told Corporal Jameson what I saw, it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference. The boy is smitten. As for Gillian, she wants a husband and has her heart set on Captain Wolfe, who by all accounts, is now a wealthy man. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Gillian murdered poor Jocelyn herself.”

  Albus Laleham giggled.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Fawn’s brow broke out in cool threads of perspiration.

  “To make you understand that I won’t let anything come between Gillian and Wolfe. They are made for each other—as you are perfect for Corporal Jameson. I shan’t say a word to him about your indiscretion—not a word—provided you agree to do something for me.”

  Fawn felt the blood leave her face. “Do not attempt to blackmail me, sir. Corporal Jameson has not declared himself. I am beholden to no man.”

  “Not even your handsome uncle?” he purred. “What did he promise you in exchange for the alibi you gave him? Do not bother to deny it. You and I both know he was not with you when Jocelyn was killed. Powerful people have been watching Wolfe for some time now.”

  “Powerful people,” Fawn snapped. Her voice shook. “I assume you are referring to the members of the Society.” She exulted when Albus’s smug smile was wiped off his face. The worm had turned! “I know all about it and I warn you, if you cause trouble for Crispin, I will cause trouble for you, sir. The kind of trouble that will be read about in the newspapers.”

  Albus rec
overed his composure. “Now, now, let’s not fall out over this. My only wish is that we all get what we want out of this arrangement. Gillian secures her captain, you secure your corporal and I secure a private home for the Society to meet.”

  She stared at him, baffled at first, and then slowly realized he was referring to Hawkcliffe Hall. “What have I to do with that? Make your request known to Captain Wolfe.”

  “Oh I have. Many times. He has always refused. But I believe you could convince him.” Albus stepped closer, forcing Fawn to step back, nearer to the edge of the cliff. “I suspect he would do anything for you, Miss Heathcote. Consider this ... if you became a member, you and your uncle could enjoy one another’s company without fear of scandal ... if you understand my meaning.”

  Fawn did. Suddenly, violently, she understood the true nature of the Society.

  §

  WOLF WAS a dark god—a handsome, amoral regent with a sex drive that was legendary. Of all the men in their secret society, only Wolfe and Drake had their pick of females willing to act out whatever fantasy they desired.

  Gillian had come to Hawkcliffe Hall anticipating evenings of hedonistic experimentation—surely that was the point in coming to this dull backwater? She could not say she was as enamored of the setting as Albus was for future meetings of the Society. Where were the servants? Were they to fend for themselves? Must their little Society sacrifice the creature comforts for the sake of perfect privacy?

  The isolation had certainly done nothing to stimulate the gentlemen’s imaginations. Gillian believed Jameson could be persuaded to partake if Wolfe would encourage Miss Heathcote out of her shell. But Crispin was strangely reserved tonight. The four of them sat at cards until well past midnight, while Miss Heathcote begged to be excused and retired early.

  Winning at cards was Jameson’s addiction—not Gillian’s, and she was becoming impatient with her male companions. She looked in Crispin’s direction, expecting to find him sympathetic to her feelings. But her husband-to-be was gazing at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eye. The master bedroom was directly over their heads if she wasn’t mistaken.