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December 23, 1810
Evening
Brook had never laughed as much as he had today. It had started with his foray into the out-of-doors to trek in the snow then continued through the afternoon when he’d lingered in the common room to play cards with some of the other men while Hope had gone to their room for a nap, but when she’d returned, she’d donned a pretty, simple gown of a raspberry taffeta that temporarily stole his ability to breathe. Now that dinner had been completed, he and his pretend wife had come into the common room to talk and joke with some of their fellow travelers. They had taken quite a bit of teasing about being a newly married couple who couldn’t be without each other for a long period of time.
He hadn’t minded, especially when the good-natured jokes had brought a blush to her cheeks or a sparkle to her eyes. God, she was beautiful, and so gracious. While he talked with the magistrate and vicar as well as the innkeeper, she had befriended the young couple, who were around her own age. She also spoke to the German princess and her attendant who had passed into the room from their private dinner. No matter what he was doing, he followed her movements with his gaze, much to the amusement of his companions.
There was a festive current running through the patrons as well as the staff, for it was the Christmastide season, and from the snatches of rumors he’d heard, there would be a party of men sent out tomorrow on the hunt for evergreen boughs as well as holly to decorate the common room. Indeed, the roads were still largely impassable, but if the temperatures kept warming and if rain swept in, the bulk of the snow would recede, and travel could resume.
Brook shoved that terribly sad thought from his mind, for he wasn’t quite ready to part from this pretend life he’d invented for himself. “A round of beer for everyone tonight on me!” he said on an impromptu yell. Calls and whoops echoed about the room. “It is Christmastide, my friends, and my wife is exceedingly lovely tonight. That alone is reason to celebrate.” When a blush filled her cheeks, he grinned.
“Do stop, Brook,” she whispered and pressed a hand to her face. “What has gotten into you?”
What indeed? He was hardly drunk, but this interlude—this woman—had entered his blood and had become an integral part of him. In a myriad of tiny ways, she was changing him, guiding him whether she was aware of it or not, and he didn’t mind.
One of the grooms came into the room just as he’d made his announcement. “There will be a good fog in the morning, I’m thinking, for it’s warming slightly now. Roads should be reachable in three days or so.”
Thank the lord. “Here’s to spending Christmas at The Brown Hare Inn!” He hefted his tankard and grinned when the bulk of the room put forth huzzahs.
Hope merely shook her head, but amusement sparkled in her eyes, and he reveled in that. Never had he enjoyed his time more since Deborah had passed from this world.
As the evening drew onward, Brook indulged in a few brandies while Hope partook in a glass of madeira. High spirits abounded throughout the room, but eventually, he wanted her to himself, for he’d come to expect that once night fell outside the inn.
He stood and offered his hand. “Perhaps we should retire, Mrs. Gerard. It has been a long day, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps.” But she slipped her hand into his palm and smiled when he tugged her into a standing position.
The magistrate chuckled. “Everyone bid the newlyweds goodnight, while the rest of us marinate in our jealousy.”
“He is rather over the top,” Brook whispered to her as they made their way to the staircase to snickers and much teasing. Yet it was lovely to think that he belonged in a relationship again, even if it was merely a bit of fiction.
What would he do when the façade faded, and they were forced to part ways?
That is a worry for another day.
Once they reached their shared room and he lit one of the candles, and she regarded him with an inscrutable expression, his chest tightened. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
It took next to no time to divest himself of his jacket, cuffs, collar, and cravat. The garments he tossed toward the foot of the bed, not really caring if they made it or not. “How am I looking at you?” His spirits were still buoyed by the events of the day and perhaps fueled by the brandy on top of the beer, but as he removed his waistcoat and tossed it to the floor, he prowled toward her while she retreated to the window.
“Like you wish to scoop me up and devour me... or perhaps abscond with me.” Her eyes were round, filled with both confusion and longing as she gazed at him. “I don’t know how to interpret that.”
“Mmm.” The fact she was so perceptive enhanced the desire he’d labored under since that kiss in the snow this morning. “Perhaps I wish to extend what you started out in the woods.” When she moistened her lips, he barely stifled a groan. “Or perhaps I should treat you to the same ecstasy you gave me last night.” Never had he anticipated a proposal more, for the past two evenings had been spent in some sort of carnal pursuit.
A tiny gasp escaped her, and the window at her back prevented further flight. “Do you think that is a good idea? We are already flirting with going beyond scandal as it is.” Those expressive eyes darkened, so she wasn’t as uninterested as she wished for him to think.
Surely, I am slowly descending into madness.
“It’s not as if anything we do now will erase that.” Brook didn’t care. His wife was gone; she wasn’t coming back. And though his head realized that nothing could come from a dalliance with Hope, his heart—as well as his shaft—argued that the connection they shared deserved at least some initial investigation. “Where you are concerned, pleasure is always a good idea.” She was so dewy eyed and pretty in that gown, and damn if he didn’t want her, craved that closeness and intimacy they’d enjoyed the night before.
For a long time afterward, he was never certain which of them moved first, but then she was in his arms, and he kissed her as if he hadn’t seen a woman for a decade. Oh, she was so soft and warm, and the faint taste of the wine she’d had earlier came away on her lips made the embrace that much sweeter.
The way she twined her hands about his neck, the delicate press of her body against his, the faint scent of her violet perfume, the softness of her lips on his as she kissed him back all worked to remove him from the remainder of his sanity and commonsense. Over and over, he drank from her like a man possessed, and when that wasn’t enough, Brook held her head between his hands to better deepen the kiss as he chased her tongue with his, and when he needed more, he plucked the pins from her hair. They pinged slightly as they fell to the floor, but once her brown tresses tumbled about her back and shoulders, he fisted his hands into the thick mass and kissed her anew.
It was all too easy to tug the gown from her frame. She hadn’t worn stays, no doubt due to the fact she couldn’t operate that garment by herself, but he didn’t mind. It only meant one less obstacle keeping him from seeing her body.
Damn, but he’d forgotten how lovely it was to undress a woman. It seemed ages since he’d last done that, for Deborah had been increasing before she’d died, and too many times she wasn’t of a mind to be intimate, but it felt all too right with Hope. And she wasn’t a passive participant in the embrace. While he manipulated the ties of her petticoat, she pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw, the side of his neck, or shoved her hands beneath his fine lawn shirt once she’d tugged it from his breeches. The heat of her spurred him onward, and when she was clad in her shift, he paused. Should he undress her fully or leave her the modesty of keeping the garment on?
“Brook?” Hope brushed a fingertip over one of his nipples, and electric sensation rushed through him, making him hiss with acute need. “Why do you hesitate?” The same desire bedeviling him clouded her eyes as she peered up at him. Was she even aware of that?
In the guttering candlelight, the burn scars on the inside of her right arm were all too noticeable. “I don’t wish to expose your scars if they are something that brings you discomfort.” Ardor aside, if she wasn’t comfortable, they would go no further.
“Oh.” Her fingers stilled on his skin, and when she pulled away from him, he immediately missed her warmth. “You are far too considerate, but perhaps it is time to face my fears.” As he watched, she stepped out of the petticoat and then slowly, ever so slowly, she pulled the thin shift from her person. Briefly, it dangled from a finger before slipping to the floor unheeded. Then she stood, more or less nude, before him. The stockings and slippers only added to the eroticism of the action. Tears gathered in her eyes. “I apologize if the scars are too ugly or if they disgust you.”
“Ah, Hope.” The trust she extended to him left him humbled and honored. “You are beautiful.” Twisted, mottled pink skin decorated the right side of her body, but those patches didn’t distract from the woman she was nor her charms. He pushed the waterfall of her hair over a shoulder to better admire her form. “Never forget that.”
“Such gammon.” The whispered protest sounded overly loud in the silence of the room. “I am well aware of what I look like now.” When she attempted to turn, to angle her body away from his regard, he slipped a hand about her waist and pulled her closer.
“You are incredibly brave. Much braver than I could ever hope to be.” While he’d hidden from life due to being lost in grief, she could never hide from what had happened to her. Not knowing what else to do, Brook gently claimed her lips, kissed away the salty trace of the tears on her cheeks, and as he sought to bring her comfort, his heart shivered to life, came away from the walls he’d kept around that organ. “The scars are proof that you survived, and the world is so much better for the simple fact you are in it.”
“I wish more men thought as you do.” She plucked at his shirt. “Take this off. I want to explore you.”
“Not before I do the same to you.” He removed the garment with alacrity and tossed it away. “Tonight, is for your pleasure, not mine.”
“But—”
“No,” he interrupted and then escorted her to the side of the bed. “You gave me that last night. Now it’s your turn.” Brook kissed her while making her sit. “I shall be with you in a moment.” His chest tightened when she offered a sound of protest, and quickly he toed off his boots, kicking them away. Then he kneeled before her. “I don’t take lightly the gift you’ve given me by letting me see you at your most vulnerable.”
“I know you would never hurt me.” She braced herself with her palms on the mattress behind her, which put her perfect smallish breasts on display, the pink tips pebbled and all too tempting.
“Never.” With slow movements so she wouldn’t startle, he removed her slippers and then he untied the ribboned garters. In some amusement, he noted his shaking hands, for it had been a long time indeed since he’d pleasured a woman, but Hope watched him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, and the picture she made further hardened his length. As best he could, Brook ignored his own need and rolled the stocking down on first one leg. Then he did the same to the other. Oh, she had beautiful limbs, and it mattered not the burn scars marred one of them. “If you feel I’ve gone too far, tell me nay and I will immediately stop.”
She nodded, and when he cupped her breasts, pressed himself closer between her naturally splayed legs, a shuddering breath escaped her. “Brook, I... ooh...”
“Good?” When she nodded, he brushed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples and grinned when a shiver racked her shoulders. “I shall take that for a yes.” He dipped his head, licked one of those lovely buds, and then took it into his mouth.
A long moan issued from her and one of her hands fisted in the bedclothes.
It was all the permission he required, and for the next few moments, Brook explored her body with his fingers, his tongue, and his lips. By the time he tugged her to the edge of the bed and encouraged her to recline backward, he was so hard he didn’t know if he’d be able to bring her to release without spending in his breeches. Yet, this night was for her alone. Putting all thought to his own comfort to the back of his mind, Brook caressed the inside of her thighs, urged them as far apart as they could comfortably go. “Ready?”
Those creamy thighs quivered. Anticipation and worry mixed in her gorgeous eyes. “Surely you cannot mean to...”
“Oh, but I do, and I will, love.” He winked. “It is my fondest hope you will thoroughly enjoy this exercise.”
“I... No one has ever done... Oh!” Her squeal of surprise when he licked that warm flesh at her center tugged a snort from him.
“There is no time like the present to explore... everything.” The act of pleasuring a woman orally was something he secretly enjoyed, but his wife hadn’t let him do it often. From all accounts, Hope liked this type of play, for she’d rested a hand at the back of his head and urged him closer.
As he spread her open with one hand, he continued to caress the inside of her thighs with the other. Easily he found the pearl at her center, teased it with his tongue, and she shook with the beginnings of sensation. Soon, he settled on a rhythm he liked, and he repeated the cycle of teasing, suckling, and licking. The half-stifled sounds Hope made would drive him mad, and each one was more frantic than the last. Tiny pinpricks of pain kept him on the edge as she pulled his hair and squirmed in his hold only enhanced his own desire, and when she bucked her hips against his mouth, he grinned, hummed at her flesh for she was close.
“Brook, I need...” Her body shook and she tossed her head. “...something.”
Poor thing. She truly had never been brought to release. Once more, he silently cursed her former fiancé for not properly taking care of her, for not cherishing her, to not loving her as she deserved to be loved.
“Don’t fight it, but let the wave take you.” Again, he applied himself with renewed effort at that slippery button and dared to penetrate her passage with first one finger and then another. Her gasp of surprise echoed on the air. Dear God, she was so tight and definitely still an innocent. He’d need to be careful, but oh how he wished he could feel that honeyed heat snug around his member.
Then a strangled sort of scream ripped from her throat the second he suckled hard at the nubbin, and he grinned as Hope fell into her first foray of carnal bliss. Gentle contractions tremored around his fingers, and his shaft pulsed in response. Damn, he’d never been so hard, but the discomfort was forgotten as he watched the expressions flit over her face—wonder, pleasure, amazement, exhaustion. Though he’d thought her beautiful before; now she was ethereal, angelic, transcendent in that bliss when her back arched and she squirmed while he continued to tease that tiny bundle of nerves.
“Brook!” Near hysterical, Hope collapsed fully onto her back. One hand drifted to a breast to pluck at a pink nipple, and he almost shot his wad right there. “That was... I feel so... No one told me...”
He couldn’t help but grin. No matter where their paths led or what the future held, she would always remember this moment and him, for he had been the first man to make her come by oral stimulation, and what was more, he wasn’t quite finished with her yet.
“That was merely one tiny part of intimacy,” he whispered as he climbed onto the bed to join her. In her lethargy, she glanced at him, and there was such heated invitation in those eyes, he had no recourse except to bite the inside of his cheek and ignore the throbbing need in his highly aroused shaft.
“Good heavens. There is more?” She crawled up and then collapsed against the pillows.
“So much more.” Needing the distraction, Brook covered her body with his. He kissed her as if there was nothing else to do in this life and alternately as if he were running out of time. Her hands were everywhere on him, caressing, touching, exploring, and he did the same to her. Though it would take years to learn the secrets of her body, he set out to at least try, and whenever he touched or nibbled at a part of her that made her cry out in pleasure, he was eager to find the next.
Wanting to make her spend once more, he slipped a hand between her thighs. The damp curls shrouding her sex sent a shiver of pure desire down his spine, for if he were to spear into her right now, would she be slick and welcoming? He strummed his fingers over her swollen button while he teased a breast with his tongue and lips.
She shattered more quickly this time, and more spectacularly. As her scream erupted, he slammed his mouth onto hers in the attempt to take the sound into himself. The last thing he wanted was anyone in the surrounding rooms to get their rocks off knowing Hope was being thoroughly pleasured. Those sounds were his alone, and he was selfish enough to try and keep them hidden.
There was no doubt that she was completely lost on waves of pleasure, but so was he, only on something entirely different. What the devil was he going to do, for he recognized the initial feelings. This time at the Brown Hare Inn wasn’t reality and neither could it continue on past being stranded. He had his life and she had hers; they were from two different worlds, and besides, he was still very much in love with his wife, wasn’t he?
Bloody hell, but that line was blurred.
When her body came down from the heights of bliss and her trembles receded, Brook rolled onto his back, as exhausted as if he’d coupled with her. She blew out a breath, looked at him with such hunger in her eyes that he had to bear down in order to stave off spending. “Finish me, Your Grace. I want all of you.”
Those words, he feared, were the beginning of his undoing, but he shook his head. As much as it pained him, as much as it went against everything he wanted in this moment, he had to deny her. “I cannot.”
“Why? Clearly, you are in need.” When she glanced her fingers over his rampant length behind his frontfalls, he shuddered and prayed he wouldn’t explode.
“This is true, but you are an innocent, and you should remain as such for when you find a decent man... the man you will eventually marry.”
“You and I both know that will never happen.” Tears welled in her eyes. She removed her touch from his person. “Not while my fate lies in becoming a lady’s companion.”
It didn’t matter that she was right. In this he would remain firm. “That gift, your innocence, belongs to the man you will fall in love with.” He swallowed hard to encourage moisture into his suddenly tight throat. “You deserve that, Hope. You deserve to be in love with the man you’ll lie with.”
And he’d nearly taken that from her through lust alone.
I must do better, for I respect her too much for a casual tryst.
Yet the sensation of falling assailed him, the feeling of belonging he couldn’t shake. He’d had that with Deborah and had never experienced it since.
Except now.
“You are quite mean, do you know that?” Her pout was adorable; the flush of arousal on her chest and cheeks lovely.
“You will thank me later.” Unable to remain parted from her, he gathered her into his arms with her backside flush to his front. The sensations that crashed through him when his erection brushed her bottom had the power to break him, but he ignored them as best he could. “Once emotions are involved, the act means so much more. I want that for you.”
“What if I want something else entirely?” she asked in a barely audible voice.
“I honestly don’t know.” As he willed his body’s reaction to settle, he held her close, nuzzled the crook of her shoulder, and he sighed. Moonlight drifted in through the window to frost everything with a sheen of silver. For the first time since he’d been forced into mourning, he was... content. Shock tightened his chest.
Was that a disservice to Deborah’s memory, or was it a sign he was ready to live—and love—again? There were no easy answers.
Eventually, he fell into a light doze to the scent of violets and the undeniable warmth of Hope’s body next to his.
