Abducted By A Fiery Lady (Historical Regency Romance)

by Ella Edon

“Really.”

  He looked down into that sweetly smiling face and knew he couldn’t resist a moment more. Drawing her to him, he kissed her, with lingering sweetness, on the lips.

  Together, they headed down the hilltop to where Brother Marriot, dark-robed and weary, waiting with the cart. It was time to go back to the village, and the inn – where they would spend their first night as man and wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Unexpected Wonders

  The light of the small lamp shone on Luke’s hair. “This is your wedding night,” he said.

  Emilia looked up at him in amazement. But she believed him. She wanted him too much and she trusted him too; she knew all would be well with him.

  His hand stroked her hair and she buried her face in his shoulder and she knew that she had never wanted more than this.

  Luke kissed her, his tongue gently insisting that she part her lips and she did so, reaching up as he lay against her, loving the way his body felt. She ran her hands down his back, amazed that she had never done so before. It felt so right, somehow. So good.

  Luke sighed and she felt his hands slide down her sides, squeezing her hip in a way that they had done during the waltz, but which was now so sweet, so intimate. She gasped and drew him closer.

  His hands were fumbling at her back, and she felt them loop under her buttons, unfastening the one that held her dress closed at the neck. She sighed and felt herself go tense. This was something she would never have even imagined.

  It all sounded so unlikely.

  She had heard sketchy descriptions of what men and women did, but she’d dismissed it all as pure invention. She felt her cheeks get hot at the thought of it.

  Luke was unfastening her buttons and she rolled to one side, barely able to believe what was happening. Her breath was tight in her throat, heart thumping with excitement.

  He leaned back, smoothing a hand down her shoulders, drawing her dress down with it. She saw his eyes studying the pale skin of her arms and she felt her cheeks flush as the gaze moved, studying her breasts.

  He reached for the ties of her petticoat, and her face heated up, her body felt like she’d just bathed in warm water as he slowly started to draw them lower.

  “You are beautiful,” he whispered.

  He was looking down at her, where she lay on the settle. Her body was half-covered by her dress, her petticoat open, so that he stared at her breasts.

  She flushed. Oddly, she felt no sense of shame, only a shy pride.

  “You’re biased.”

  “No, I’m not,” he insisted. “I truly have never seen someone so sweetly-lovely.”

  She gasped as his hand came up and gently, so gently, he stroked his fingers down her breast. He paused at the nipple and she tensed, feeling him take it in his grip. He worked it in a way that made fire shimmer through her body, catching alight in her loins.

  “Luke!” she gasped.

  But he had moved, now, and was working her dress down over her knees. He paused and undid her stays, then left her naked on the cushioned settle.

  Emilia looked up at him, her body a tangled mass of feelings she couldn’t ignore or identify— there were so many and they were so new. She loved the feeling of him looking at her, the tender stroke of his hand down her body. At the same time, fear vied with anticipation.

  “Luke…” she whispered.

  He bent down and she felt his lips stroke her, leaving a trail of fire from her collarbones to her navel. He was touching her breast, still, but his mouth moved lower, leaving a heated warmth that made her gasp and cry aloud.

  He looked up at her, those blue eyes sparking with warmth.

  “Emilia…do you trust me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  He reached between her thighs, stroking her there, and she gasped and her eyes shut fast, the sensation so intense and so unbelievable that she couldn’t breathe.

  “Luke,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure if she could bear it, if she was quite comfortable with the strange pressure that seemed to be building up inside of her as he touched her there.

  His hand moved, then, and he started to undress himself. She lay back, watching him, and thought she’d never seen a body so lovely. It was such a surprising thought – she’d always assumed that men looked quite beastly under their suits – that she giggled.

  “What?” he asked. He was undressed to the waist, now, the firelight playing over his dense muscles, put there by hours of riding and practice with the sword.

  His smile was sweet and she couldn’t help but grin back.

  “You’re rather lovely, yourself.”

  He went red. She couldn’t help smiling even more at the sight.

  “I’m pleased milady is not affrighted by me.”

  Emilia giggled. “You silly man. Did you think I would be?”

  “I hoped not.”

  He was untying his breeches now, and Emilia felt her cheeks heat up in delicious awkwardness. She looked away, and when she looked back, he was naked. She stared at him in unabashed wonderment.

  “You are lovely.”

  He smiled. He stood where he was a moment, and she got the distinct impression he enjoyed her approbation. He raised a brow and then turned away, shyly.

  Emilia closed her eyes, feeling a strange mix of responses filling her up. She couldn’t forget how different his body was to hers, and yet how beautiful.

  “Emilia. You aren’t frightened?”

  She opened her eyes to find him standing by the settle. She’d half sat, and she leaned back against the side as he lowered his body down, to sit beside her.

  “No,” she said. “Not with you.”

  “Good.”

  She let him push her back against the cushion, shivering with wonder at how his body felt, lying on hers. She could feel the warmth of his skin and the wonderful strength of his muscles. He pushed a knee between her legs and she gasped, her eyes flying open.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he assured her. “Tell me if you are.”

  “I’ll never fear you,” she whispered back.

  She felt something happen inside her, and heard him grunt and then her own body flooded with an impossible sweetness, a feeling of fullness and fulfilment that she’d never visualized.

  She closed her eyes and kept them closed as he moved over her, the feeling growing more intense, and for a shocking second, unbearably painful. Then, even as she cried out in shock, the pain was gone, replaced with a sweetness that she’d never believed possible.

  She was gasping and she could hear sounds mirroring hers from Luke, as he moved over her. His hands were braced by her shoulders, his hips against hers, his body moving with an urgency she would barely have believed possible, yet which met and heightened the feelings she was experiencing on her own.

  She could feel her body heating up, experiencing a strange, insistent pressure that seemed to be growing somewhere inside her, just below her navel, making her want more, and more…

  She heard Luke cry out, and wondered if he felt the same thing she did as, amazed at her own response, she cried out, too, reaching for him as he leaned into her.

  Emilia wrapped her arms around him and held him close. His skin, damp with perspiration, clung to hers as they lay together, the impossible sweetness making her drowsy and content as never before as she felt his sighs mixing with hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Planning a Future

  Luke waited on the step outside of the bedroom, feeling his heart teeming with a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to understand.

  Happiness was chief among them, followed by an overwhelming tenderness that he felt flow through him every time he thought of Emilia. The third emotion he felt, the one he wished he didn’t feel, was worry.

  . He and Emilia had spent the night in separate bedchambers – the proprietor had record of it, and in that way, their names were both safe. Luke felt fairly sure nobody of their circles would have seen ei
ther of them – neither traveling to the inn, nor staying at it – and so he was sure no damage could come of what he and Emilia had done, until they could formally announce their marriage in a way that would bring no dishonor upon either one of them.

  “So why are you worried?” he asked himself.

  There was no reason for concern. He should simply let himself be happy. He would get her back to town safely, and nobody would ever know they had spent a night together and alone. He would set plans in motion for their conjugal bliss, and soon she would be the new countess and nobody would ever be the wiser.

  He looked up and down the hallway, heart thumping in distress. Any minute, a maid or a guest might come along the hallway, and catch sight of him, waiting for Emilia.

  “And so? You fuss overmuch, Luke.” Did he really think everybody in London knew him on sight, or her? That the instant they were spotted together, word would fly back to Almack’s, spreading like flour from a mill-cart? No!

  “Where is she?”

  It felt like every bit of his body was glowing from within, each moment spent with her sparking a little fire inside him so that now, simply recalling it, he had to fight to keep the big grin off his face. She was so lovely!

  She is beautiful beyond my wildest imaginings.

  He paced in the hallway, waiting for Emilia to emerge.

  “Calm down, Luke.”

  He felt himself pace to the stairwell, then back. As he turned around again, planning another round of pacing, a soft voice spoke.

  “We can go.”

  He spun round. Emilia, already!

  Seeing her in the daylight took his breath away again. She had brushed her pale hair out and it lay in soft curls on her shoulders. She was wearing the white dress from yesterday, patterned with tiny dark sprigs. Her eyes on his were glowing tenderly.

  “We should go,” he agreed. Why was his voice so grating? He cleared his throat, flushing red.

  Emilia looked up at him, and he saw the brightness in his own chest reflected in her eye. He swallowed hard, knowing that he wanted, with agonizing intensity, to take her straight back into her bedroom and do as they had done, only more slowly, this time, more sweetly, drawing out every second of the intensity.

  “Do you have provisions? For breaking our fast?”

  “I got a hamper from the kitchens.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. He felt her hand on his and his heart turned over. He looked into her eyes, wanting terribly to draw her to him and cover the soft, pale skin of her tender face in kisses. Instead, he let his fingers press hers gently. His arm dropped to his side.

  “Let’s go downstairs.”

  They walked out past the proprietor’s desk and Luke took a big breath of fresh air. He felt less tense as they walked together to the inn-yard, where they could find a coach for hire. He looked at Emilia.

  “You look lovely,” he whispered.

  She beamed. “As do you, too.”

  He looked at those smiling eyes and realized he had never before felt so happy. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry with the raging mix of emotions that ran through him.

  “Going to London?” a coachman called out, his accent harsh in the cold morning air.

  “Yes. Passage for two – post-haste,” Luke added, passing up a shilling. He saw the driver’s eyes widen – it was far beyond the obligatory fee – but then the shilling disappeared into his pocket.

  “I’ll get you there on time,” the driver promised.

  Luke turned to Emilia, who looked up at him nervously.

  “Need a hand?” he offered.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered. He reached up and took her fingers, feeling his heart swell with the joy of being able to offer even such a simple service as this.

  She took a seat in the coach, and he had to drag his eyes away, his entire body tingling with the thought of being beside her now. He shook his head with impatience, amazed at his responses, and swung into the coach, shutting the door swiftly behind him.

  “To London!”

  As they rattled off down the road, he watched Emilia. Her eyes were on him, and they sparkled.

  “Luke…I can’t believe it.”

  “Believe it, though,” he assured her and grinned.

  They both laughed. He studied her, feeling his loins ache as he watched the curve of her sweet neck, the place where it met the bodice of her gown.

  He no longer had to fill in details with his imagination – he knew what she looked like undressed, and that made his proximity to her even more challenging. He wanted to take her clothes off here and now, kissing her as he pushed her back against the seat…

  “It’s early?” she asked.

  “It’s eight o’ clock,” Luke replied, frowning as he read the time from his fob-watch, then slipping it back into the pocket against his chest.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “So am I. I could eat twice as much as we have with us,” he added, reaching for the cloth-wrapped bundle he’d been carrying. The innkeeper’s wife had prepared a feast – two cob loaves, half a cheese, fresh apples – but even so, he was sure he could manage more food.

  Emilia chuckled. “Well, we’ll finish that as we go. There are always things to eat on offer nearby.”

  “True.” Luke passed her a loaf. He tried to dismiss the worry he still felt. He was sure no ill would come of their adventure. Soon, they would be protected by respectability, living in London. His mind drifted to his estate in the country, and what she might think of it, too.

  “This is delicious,” Emilia said, interrupting his imaginings of showing her the woodlands at his estate.

  “It is. Very good.”

  He broke off a section of loaf, chewing it happily. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so carefree, so unrestrained. Certainly not since he’d been fifteen.

  And now I feel as if the whole world is as wonderful as I thought it in my youth.

  He swallowed the bread, stomach tingling, and stared out at the bright landscape. The sun had risen hours ago, and it shone down now on green fields, dotted here and there with trees in summer greens.

  “My father will be worried about me,” Emilia observed.

  “We can tell him something,” Luke reassured her instantly. He had no idea what, but he was sure they’d think of something. He had to speak to his lordship, in any case.

  “I know,” Emilia agreed. “Papa won’t be angry for long.”

  “Good,” he said.

  They shared a special smile.

  The distant walls and roofs of London appeared on the horizon, bisected with the slate line of the Thames. Luke felt his tummy clench in anticipation as they descended the hill, losing sight of it.

  He cast covert glances at Emilia at regular intervals, he found his mind making plans. Once she was safely at home, he would take a Hansom cab to his own home and fetch some papers to take with him. He would then confront the Earl and make him his offer.

  I will repay the debts the Duke owes him. If not in one go, at least in steady increments.

  He just had to check on his own accounts. There were two possibilities – either he could pay the money to the Earl, or he could – as the Duke himself planned – refuse any dowry. He just had to check which made more sense. With his uncle’s dwindling coffers to concern him, it might make more sense to accept the dowry, and pay off the Earl’s own debts in gradual increments. He just needed facts…

  “Will you come and see me soon?” Emilia asked.

  Luke swallowed his bread and nodded. “Of course. This afternoon.”

  “Good,” she said softly.

  Luke reached for her hands, squeezing her fingers tightly. Her skin felt soft and he felt his body start to pulse.

  Look out of the window, Luke. If you keep looking at her, you will lose all your self-control.

  He made himself watch the trees slide past as the coach moved onward towards London.

  As they passed through the gates of the city, he leaned back, so as
not to risk anybody seeing them together. The coachman slowed down as they passed into the precincts of the city.

  “To which address?” their driver yelled in through the window.

  “Mowbray House,” Luke called back.

  Emilia glanced at him, worry and excitement both showing on her face, mixed to the same degree at which he felt both, too. He nodded.