With a letter posted to her parents, another from Robert to his mother, and a list of provisions they’d need, Parks had left in her rig when the weather had cleared. Until he returned, she had decided to create a proper journal for herself.
In the secret library, she’d found an empty daybook among the used ones. Though it’d taken a bit of time to transfer her existing entries on the sheets of paper into them, she looked down on the slender leather bound book with satisfaction. Only now, seeing it here with the others, did it occur to her that she might be leaving her mark on the history of the hall. It inspired her to take pen in hand.
Dear Journal,
All of the servants, save Parks, have deserted us. Add to that the fact that Robert suffered a twisted ankle while trying to calm my horse during the morning’s storm. Yet for reasons that I cannot fathom, I do believe we are equal to the task of managing the hall.
Robert has been nothing but supportive, encouraging me to do as I like. I feel almost as if I were the actual mistress of this dark place. For the first time it seems as though I have a clear path forward.
But of all the changes that have happened here today, one in particular comes to my mind again and again. As we sat in the entry way of the hall, soaked with freezing rain, I believe Robert meant to kiss me. It was the most thrilling moment of my life. Even now, I can feel the warmth of his breath on my mouth.
She set down her pen slowly and touched her lips with trembling fingers. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he be demanding and willful, subduing any doubts that might linger with her? Or would he be tender and full of gentle entreaties that she couldn’t resist? When she realized that she was stroking her own lips, she quickly clasped her hands together.
“Stop your nonsense,” she muttered to herself. She stood and went to the window in the adjoining dining room.
Though the storm had abated, the sky was still completely gray. Windblown leaves covered the ground, and the stark boughs and branches of winter reached for the sky. Gwen folded her arms around herself, suddenly chilled.
“Wherever you are, Regina,” she said quietly, “I hope you are safe.”
Her sister had always enjoyed this type of wild weather, though Gwen could never understand why. But as she remembered those days, when Regina had run through the rain, a thought occurred to her that made her smile. She imagined her sister on some fine adventure. Perhaps she was seeking her fortune, drifting wherever the winds would take her, laughing and living as she chose. Or perhaps she’d joined a traveling band of actors. It wasn’t an exploit that was too far out of the question, with her sister’s flair for the dramatic. Regina had always found it easy to make friends with everyone she met.
Regina had been vivacious and free-spirited. She’d been–
Gwen stopped herself. She was thinking of her sister in the past tense.
Though she hadn’t wanted to admit it, this was the worry that had burrowed deep into her soul: What if Regina was dead?
Tears burned in her eyes as she remembered the outlandish girl who snuck out during the night to go dancing with her friends; the girl who’d run barefoot; the girl so full of life that she simply couldn’t be dead.
She’d been envious of her sister, something she had to admit now. When her father had announced Regina’s betrothal to Christopher, it’d broken her heart. She’d always dreamt that they two would get married in the same ceremony, but how could Gwen marry Robert when her sister married his brother?
Gwen shook her head. It did no good to tread over old ground, no good at all. She cast a look back into the secret library. The journals always took her mind off her troubles. She hurried back to them and picked up one in which she’d placed a book mark. It was Mrs. Thorne’s.
Dear Journal –
During this last month I’ve begun to see shadows in the halls. I know that it’s Miss Wilson, come to steal Mr. Thorne from me. I see her hair whipping around corners, hiding her from my staring eyes. She haunts the hall with every step she takes. She’s taking him away from me, and I am coming to realize that I must do something about this, lest I lose him forever.
He’s going away on a trip for his businesses soon, to London. Is he taking her with him? Is he taking me with him? I can feel the fear creeping up my skin like so many spiders. I have heard nothing but whispers from the servants that scuttle along the hallways with the mice, so quiet, waiting for me. There is one passage in particular that brings me to the kitchen that I like to listen at, to find out such things.
I am hunting like the spiders that I see in the hallways. I hunt for knowledge, for wisdom. I will find out what is happening in my home.
* * *
Barely feeling his ankle, Robert paced restlessly in his library at the thought of his vanished brother. But it wasn’t his brother’s fate that worried him now, but his own.
How dare Christopher leave him here alone with Gwen?
When he’d stood with her in the kitchen and her dress had brushed his legs, it’d taken every ounce of self-control within him not to grasp her about the waist. Even though she’d worn the cook’s apron, she’d never looked lovelier. When they’d sat at breakfast, it’d been as if they’d done so as a married couple, so comfortable in each other’s company.
Whatever came their way, they seemed up to the task. Where he lacked, she excelled. Where she was inexperienced, he had the practical knowledge.
Didn’t his brother know that every moment he spent with the woman was utter torture? He’d come here to accept Gwen’s message on behalf of Christopher, and nothing more. Yet here he was, trying to charm the woman of his dreams, determined that he would win her over.
Something deep within his soul said the one thing he dare not speak out loud: Gwen must be his wife.
As he’d watched his brother’s infatuation for Regina grow, he’d never had the courage to speak of his own. Instead, he had been a royal ass to Gwen, barely tolerating her presence because he was too afraid to say what was in his heart. It had taken Christopher’s engagement to Regina to make him realize what a mistake he’d made.
But he would set that to rights, before their stay at Dredthorne Hall was over, he’d set that to rights.
Chapter 10
Gwen sat in her bedchamber, about to open one of the last remaining journals, when she heard Robert’s voice out in the hall.
“A message?” he was saying. “From whom?”
She emerged to see Parks at the top of the stairs, his coat dripping with rain. The poor man was shivering. Bless him for going to Renwick in such weather.
“From your family, I was told, sir,” Parks said, handing over the letter.
Robert took it and said, “Thank you, Parks. That will be all. Go warm yourself by the fire.”
“Thank you, sir,” he said with a small bow. He nodded quickly to Gwen, “Miss.”
Scowling, Robert opened the letter. He read it slowly, once, and then twice. Looking up at her he said nothing but she saw the blood drain out of his face.
“Robert,” she said, going to him and taking his hand. “What is it?”
He held out the message to her, and she read it quickly, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh, Robert,” she whispered, her voice catching. “I’m so sorry.”
His mother had written to inform him that his father had died, and that her sister, Robert’s aunt, had joined her.
Robert’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I knew Christopher’s disappearance would be too much for him. I shouldn’t have told him.”
She shook her head, reaching up to cup his cheek with her palm. “It isn’t your fault,” she whispered. “You did what you had to do, what any responsible son would have done. You had to prepare him for even more tragic news, should it come. Keeping the truth from him would have served no purpose. He was already gravely ill.”
“Yes,” he whispered and nodded, though he didn’t sound convinced. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“I am,” she said, “because
I always am.” She smiled up at him. “So I’m afraid there’s nothing for it but to believe me.”
“Ah, my dearest Gwen,” he said, putting his hand to her cheek. “How I wish it were that simple.”
As she gazed into his shimmering eyes, the sadness there broke her heart. Tears sprang into her own eyes as she turned her face to his palm and placed her lips there.
He took in a sharp breath and then didn’t move. She felt his gaze as surely as if it had been a heated brand. When she finally dared to look up at him, he took her by the shoulders and slowly drew her to him. In moments only inches separated their lips, as though an unstoppable force attracted them.
Warmth suffused her, as it had just after the storm, heated by his touch and his nearness. He was so close that his breath brushed across her lips and her head filled with his musky sweet scent. If he were to stop now, she thought she might go mad, but then his lips pressed into hers. She wavered a moment, before she surrendered to him, wrapping her arms around him to steady herself.
As though she’d unlocked something in him, he ravished her with his mouth, his tongue flicking against her lips. She opened to him, melting against his body as he swept his tongue against hers. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and she moaned softly, as his body pressed into hers.
He shuddered and then did the unthinkable, pulling away slowly. Gwen looked up at him through heavy lids, feeling as dazed as he looked. Her breath came in ragged snatches, and she saw his nostrils flare.
He rested his forehead against hers. “You must be sure, Gwen,” he whispered hoarsely. “For I am sure that I will not be able to stop.”
She could feel him pressing against her skirts, his flesh so hard that it took her breath away. “I am sure,” she gasped. “I have dreamt of this moment.”
In one smooth motion he reached down and swept her off her feet before she knew what was happening. In the next moment they were in her bedchamber, and he kicked the door closed behind him. As he lay her on the bed, his mouth found hers again, hungry and insistent, kissing her breathless. Her fingers fumbled with his shirt, trying to untuck it from his trousers, until his lips released hers.
Tremors ran down her spine as he stood and began to strip, throwing his coat to the floor, and tearing his shirt off over his head. Mesmerized, she watched him, as the hard planes of his gorgeous chest were revealed. Suddenly he was back on the bed with her, reaching behind her to unbutton her dress. Her fingers roamed over the smooth flesh of his chest and the hard ridges of his stomach. She could feel his hands shaking, but when he finally undid the last button, she forced herself to push him away. If he was going to undress her it would take forever. She stood, and in short order she removed her dress, petticoat and stays, until only the thin linen chemise and stockings remained.
“I would see you, Gwen,” he growled, stepping to her and lifting the chemise up and over her head. Cool air swept down her body, tightening her bare nipples. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as he went to his knees and laved her belly with kisses.
Heat flooded between her thighs, as she carded her fingers through his thick hair. She kneaded the bunched muscles of his shoulders and his hands softly squeezed her breasts. A wild tremor suffused her core as the aching need between her legs pulsed so fiercely that she nearly lost her balance.
“Robert,” she gasped. “I need you.” When his fevered eyes gazed up at her, she could see that he felt the same. “Show me yourself.”
He needed no other urging. As he stood and stripped off his boots and trousers, his thick length sprang free. She stared at the heavily veined flesh with its satiny, engorged head, and couldn’t imagine how it would feel. Slowly he moved her back toward the bed, and then lowered them both to it, as he settled down between her thighs. But instead of bringing that rod of flesh to the wetness between her legs, his clever fingers found her opening and one slipped inside.
With a sudden gasp, Gwen felt her face burn and tried to bury it in his chest. She’d never felt anything so thrilling and yet no other man had ever seen her naked, let alone touched her there.
“No shame, Gwen,” he whispered, and lifted her chin. “Not here. Not with me.”
His fingers were gentle against her opening, spreading her slick folds. But when they circled the little nub of her sex, her hips bucked in response.
“Robert,” she cried out, arching into his palm. She hadn’t known it could be like this, yearning for something she couldn’t name. Her nails dug into the bed and her hips pushed against his hand. “Please, Robert.”
But when it was clear that he had no intention of stopping the onslaught of pleasure, her fingers found his hot shaft and he moaned. Robert pulsed in her hand, and for a moment her entire world became Robert’s panting breaths and her pitiable moans. As a thick warmth spread low in her belly, she stroked his length with her fist.
Finally he took his fingers from her and replaced her fist with his own, and he guided himself to her opening. The dome of his erection pressed against her, spreading her with a delicious stretch.
“Are you sure?” he breathed.
“Yes, Robert, yes,” she answered, her voice trembling as her body shook with need. “Take me now.”
Hesitating for the briefest moment, he slowly pushed inside her. Her legs instinctively wound around his hips and he pressed even further into her. It was glorious, and so much more than she could have dreamt. It was as though their bodies had been meant for each other. The slow glide of him into her core, only made her want him all the more. She clenched around him, urging him further. He hissed sharply in response, burying himself to his root.
“Gods,” he rasped. “You feel so good.”
All she could do was whimper in response and clutch his shoulders. As he withdrew and then entered her again, her hips flexed eagerly, her body convulsing softly around him as they began to move together.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, and her head fell back limp against the pillow. She understood now why lovers would do anything for this time together. Ecstasy and carnal hunger like she’d never known unfolded inside her. He stoked a rhythmic fire in her hips, and she fueled his faster penetrations.
She was screaming now, crying as she met him thrust for thrust. Suddenly, as pleasure blossomed in her belly and spread up through her breasts, she clenched around him. He swore, crying out with her as she relentlessly milked him, until finally he grunted and released his hot seed deep inside of her.
Though tremors of passion still rocked them, they finally slowed until there was only the sound of their ragged breaths. Though her body still thrummed from the fierce climax, he slowly rolled to his side and gently brought her with him.
“Heavens,” she swore in disbelief, eyes half-closed. Nothing had ever, or could ever, feel so good.
He gazed down at her as his fingertips traced her jaw. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you,” he said quietly. “I’m only sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“You what?” she asked, surprised. “But you–”
“Treated you unkindly, my dear Gwen. Because I was too afraid to say what was in my heart, I pushed you away.”
She stared at him now. “And what is in your heart?”
“Only and ever this,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “Will you marry me, Gwen?”
A tremor shot down her spine and she blinked. She had truly never thought to hear those words. Yet now that she had, she could hardly believe them—and the doubt that crept into her mind. Perhaps he was being carried away by the moment. Or perhaps it was the shock of his father’s death. Perhaps he even sought to act the gentleman and keep her from shame.
“I…want to make sure that’s what we both want,” she said, “before I give you an answer.”
He said nothing, but gathered her up in his arms, as she nestled against him. They lay like that together until a deep sleep finally claimed them both.
* * *
Robert had taken her again in the afternoon, unti
l she lay completely limp in his arms. They’d fallen asleep like that, with him still inside of her, as he planned to do from now to the end of their days.
At some point during the night, she had turned to her side. Now, with his head propped up on his hand, he watched her sleep as the sun of a new day rose. Her fingertips twitched as she dreamed, and he slid his hand into hers, holding it gently.
“I love you,” he whispered softly, knowing that she could not hear him.
He looked out the window to the growing brightness. It was not just a new day, it was a new juncture in his life, for he had finally declared himself for the woman he loved and had asked for her hand. No matter what came now, he felt his life had finally taken its true course. Though Gwen had demurred from giving him an answer, he would not pressure her. For the only thing that could make him happier than he was at this very moment, was to have her as desirous of a marriage as he was.
As light slowly filled the room, she stirred and opened her beautiful eyes. Her gaze darted one way and then another as if she didn’t remember where she was, and then she blushed.
“Good morning,” he whispered softly, smiling down at her.
She lowered her gaze. “Good morning,” she said shyly.
With the tips of his fingers he tilted her chin up. “No shyness, no shame, Gwen,” he said, echoing his words from the previous day. “Not with me. Not ever.”
As she half rose, he thought that she meant to leave him, but instead she tugged the blankets up over their shoulders, and curled into his body. With relief, he wrapped her up in his embrace.
Mistress of Darkness: Dredthorne Hall Book 2 Page 7
