Tomorrow is my birthday. I shall be sixteen years old, though in some ways I feel much older. The other girls’ parents send them gifts to celebrate, but if I were to choose, I would rather have a picnic, or perhaps take a lovely trip somewhere. I have always loved visiting new places, though I’ve rarely had the chance. I can hardly wait to see London. I just know that I shall love it. It must be quite wonderful indeed.
As Justin continued down the stairs, his mouth curved faintly at the memory of Ariel’s letter. The date she referred to was October 27. He distinctly recalled the day, having made certain thereafter that she had received a gift on that day each year, a pretty blue fringed cashmere shawl the first year, a pair of expensive kid gloves the next. He couldn’t take her on the outing she had wanted back then, but today he meant to remedy that situation.
The amusement he was feeling changed to something else as he thought of the night he had spent making love to her. She had been all that he had imagined and more, her innocent passion more alluring than the skills of the most practiced courtesan. They had made love twice during the night and again just before dawn. Afterward he had carried her sleeping form back to her bedchamber to protect her from embarrassment when the servants arrived in the morning.
Warmed by the memory, he reached the bottom of the stairs to see Knowles hurrying forward. The tall, bone-thin butler made a slight bow of his shiny bald head. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, Knowles.”
“Your carriage is ready and waiting to depart for Cadamon, my lord, as per the instructions you left yesterday.”
“Yes, well, there has been a change of plans.”
“My lord?”
“I’ll be traveling to Tunbridge Wells instead of Cadamon, and Miss Summers is going to accompany me.”
If Knowles was surprised he didn’t show it. “Yes, my lord.”
“Have Miss Summers’s maid pack a trunk for her. She’ll need several evening gowns along with her other garments. And have one of the footmen bring down my traveling valise. He’ll find it packed and sitting at the foot of my bed.” He didn’t have a valet, had never gotten used to another man performing such intimate duties.
“As you wish, my lord.” Knowles hurried away on his scrawny bird legs, not the most attractive of butlers but certainly one of the most efficient. Justin made a mental note to give the man a raise on his return from Tunbridge Wells.
He headed into the breakfast parlor, his mind on the upcoming journey, sat down in his usual place at the head of the table, and motioned for the footman to pour him a cup of coffee. He was eager to see what Ariel thought of his plans. After what had happened between them last night, the notion of a trip out of London had descended upon him like a revelation from the gods. He wanted to spend time with her, wanted her to have a chance to get used to his lovemaking and accept the future he had planned for her.
Tunbridge Wells seemed exactly the place to begin. It was close to London yet far enough away that they could be private, and there were a number of entertaining things to do. Tunbridge had a number of fine restaurants, shops, and theaters, and there were lovely out-of-the-way cottages to rent. This time of year it wouldn’t be difficult to find one.
The thought of being alone with Ariel, of making love to her without the restraint he had shown last night, made him go instantly hard. Sweet God, taking her three times hadn’t begun to satisfy his appetite for her. He wanted to make love to her in a hundred different ways, and he wasn’t sure even that would be enough.
Wishing he could simply return upstairs and climb back into bed with her, he gave up a sigh of resignation and contented himself with visions of the passion they would share in Tunbridge Wells.
* * *
Ariel stretched lazily beneath the sheets, winced at the stiffness in her muscles, the aches in places that had never ached before, and her eyes popped open. Frantically she glanced around the bedchamber, then relaxed when she discovered she was back in her own room and Justin was nowhere around.
Justin. Dear God, it was impossible to believe she had gone to him last night, that she had asked him to make love to her. It was incredible to imagine the intimate things they had done. And yet she was glad it had happened. She wouldn’t have missed those hours in his arms, in his bed, for anything in the world.
Not even if it meant an end to her dreams.
The notion made her uneasy. She buried the thought beneath sweet memories of Justin. Later she would think about the future. Not today.
She stretched again, covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. She glanced at the clock on the mantel, saw it was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning, and, with only a minor wince, swung her legs to the side of the bed. Hearing Silvie’s familiar knock, she called for the girl to come in, hoping her little maid wouldn’t notice her slightly kiss-swollen lips or the pink, roughened skin on the side of her neck left by Justin’s late-night trace of beard.
“Good morning, miss.” Silvie bustled into the room with her usual hum of energy. “His lordship’s asked me to pack you a trunk.” She smiled. “Apparently you’ll be taking another trip.”
“A trip?” Ariel’s head snapped up in surprise. “But where are we going?”
“His lordship didn’t say. It’s hardly likely he would tell his business to me.”
Ariel sat down on the slightly worn blue tapestry stool in front of the mirror and began to pull the brush through the tangles in her pale blond hair. Cadamon, of course. Justin was supposed to leave today. A slow, secret smile played over her lips that he had decided to take her along.
“Oh!” Silvie hurried toward her. “Bless me, I nearly forgot. A servant came to the back door this morning looking for you.” She dug into the pocket of her skirt and dragged out a folded piece of paper. “He left this message. Said no one was to get it but you.”
Ariel frowned at the expensive white stationery sealed with a drop of red wax. Then she smiled. Perhaps Kitt had returned. If ever Ariel needed to see her dearest friend it was now. Hurriedly she tore the message open.
It wasn’t from Kitt, and reading the name scrawled in blue ink at the bottom of the page made her hand shake so badly she nearly dropped the paper. Phillip. Dear Lord in heaven, Phillip Marlin was the very last person she wanted to hear from. She began to scan the message:
My darling Ariel,
You cannot imagine how worried I have been. I pray that whoreson Greville has not harmed you in some way. I must see you. I must know for certain you are safe. There is a small hotel in Albermarle Street, the Quintain. Meet me in the café at three o’clock this afternoon. If you value our friendship, if you care for me at all, I beseech you not to disappoint me.
Yours ever faithfully,
Phillip
Ariel crumpled the message in her palm, grateful Justin hadn’t seen it. As she thought of Phillip, a sliver of guilt ran through her. She had never meant to hurt him. She was actually a little surprised that she seemed so important to him. She had made no promises, never pledged herself to him in any way, though there was a time she’d believed that was exactly what she wanted.
Ariel sighed. She couldn’t meet Phillip this afternoon—she would soon be leaving town—and yet it wasn’t fair that he should worry.
It wasn’t right that she continue to lead him on, to let him believe she still had feelings for him when she knew her own heart so clearly now and, in truth, felt nothing more for him than friendship.
“I’ll need pen and paper, Silvie. I should like you to deliver my reply to the gentleman yourself. Make certain it gets directly to Mr. Marlin and no one else.”
“Yes, miss.” Silvie fetched the small portable writing desk from its place on a shelf in the armoire, and Ariel penned her reply. When she finished, she folded it, sealed it, and handed it to Silvie with instructions as to where Phillip lived.
“Wait until we’ve gone. Then see that it’s properly delivered. And keep this to yourself. There is no reason to upset Lord Greville.”
“You needn’t worry about me, miss,” Silvie said.
Ariel hoped not. She knew the way Justin felt about Phillip Marlin, though she didn’t believe Phillip was as bad as Justin made him seem. It was merely the fierce animosity between the two men that colored Justin’s perception of the man Phillip really was.
She wondered what had happened between the pair to create such a strong dislike. Perhaps on the journey she could convince Justin to tell her.
“Shall we braid your hair today, miss? It would probably hold up better on the trip.”
“Yes, thank you, that’s a very good idea.” And so she sat fidgeting while Silvie plaited her hair, pinned it in a coronet on top of her head, then settled her plum silk bonnet in place and tied it beneath her chin. All the while, her mind kept returning to Justin and their passionate lovemaking last night.
In the mirror, spots of color appeared in her cheeks as she thought of him naked, his beautiful body moving over hers, his hardness buried deep inside her.
Knowing he meant for that to happen again tonight.
Then she thought of Phillip, thought of Justin’s fury at the mention of his name, worried what might happen should the earl discover Phillip’s continuing pursuit, and a niggling premonition of trouble began to gnaw at the back of her mind.
* * *
Justin lounged against the seat of the carriage, watching Ariel from beneath half-lowered lids. She frowned as the conveyance reached the outskirts of London and turned south instead of continuing northeast on the road to Cadamon.
“Isn’t this the wrong direction? If I remember correctly, Cadamon is the opposite way.”
A corner of his mouth inched up. “We’re going to Tunbridge Wells. It’s a charming little town, very quiet, very pretty. I thought you might like to see it.” She looked lovely today, in a plum silk traveling dress trimmed with ecru lace. The color was high in her cheeks, and her lips still looked a little kiss-swollen. He had done that to her, he knew. And it was only the beginning.
She gave him a brilliant smile that made his body tighten and sent a rush of pressure to his groin.
“Oh, yes. I’ve read about Tunbridge. I should very much love to go there.”
“Happy birthday, Ariel.”
Surprise widened her china blue eyes. “This trip is my birthday present? I didn’t think you knew when it was.”
“You didn’t? You received the gifts I sent you. You thanked me in your letters.”
She flushed prettily, and her gaze swung away. “Yes, I did. But I thought you paid someone at the school to buy the presents in your name.”
Justin didn’t answer. Of course she would think that. He had written no personal message, just left it up to the headmistress to tell her that they were from him. “So … how does it feel to be all of nineteen?”
She smiled. “Not much different than being eighteen, except for—” The color deepened in her cheeks and he knew she was thinking of last night. His arousal throbbed almost painfully. He thought of pulling the curtains and taking her there in the carriage, but this was all very new to her and perhaps a little frightening. He didn’t want to scare her with the true extent of his passion.
“You’re a woman now,” he said mildly, fighting images of her naked, of the newly awakened passion that he had so easily aroused. “I suppose that changes a number of things.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.”
“When we return, I shall find you a place of your own. A small town house not far from Brook Street. You’ll be more comfortable there and we won’t have to deal with gossiping servants.”
Ariel studied him from beneath her lashes. “I would rather we didn’t discuss the future until our return, if you don’t mind. Today is my birthday and I shouldn’t like any sort of disagreement to spoil it.”
Disagreement? What could they possibly have to disagree about? She had come to him, made love to him as he had wanted for so long. Now it was time he made arrangements for her future. But he didn’t say that. As Ariel had said, today was her birthday. Practical matters could wait until their return.
“How old are you, Justin?” Her question caught him off guard.
“Twenty-eight.” But there were times he felt the weight of a hundred years pressing down on him. “You look surprised. Did you imagine that I was older?”
“At times I did. But there were other times when I looked at you and thought you weren’t much older than I.”
He scoffed at that. He had left his youth behind years ago … if he had ever had one.
“You look younger when you smile. Did you know that? You don’t do it nearly enough.”
Justin didn’t answer. What could he say? That he used to smile all the time, but it was so long ago he could scarcely remember?
“What makes you happy, Justin? What things give you joy?”
He frowned at the absurdity of the question. “I don’t have time to worry about that sort of nonsense,” he grumbled, but it occurred to him that she brought him joy. Even now as he looked at her, wreathed in a beam of sunlight slanting in through the window, tendrils of silver-blond hair escaping from her bonnet, something sweet blossomed inside him. It warmed his cold heart, made him feel an odd, inexplicable yearning. For what he couldn’t say. He had thought that once he’d had her, this yearning would go away. Instead, each time he looked at her, each time she smiled at him in that soft, sweet way, it seemed to light up the darkness inside him and the yearning grew more fierce. He wondered what would make it fade.
“When I was younger, I used to love storms,” she said. “I used to climb up on the roof of our cottage and watch the heavy black clouds rolling in. I loved to watch the lightning, to listen to the thunder rumbling all around me. It was dangerous, I know, and yet it drew me, that turbulence, that encroaching darkness. I wanted to reach up and touch those clouds, find out what they were made of.”
Perhaps she still did, he thought, thinking of his own personal darkness and the way she seemed able to reach inside him.
Ariel fell silent when he made no reply. Her attention turned to the window, and Justin was content just to watch her. The yearning rose up again, along with the aching lust for her that had become all too familiar since her arrival in London.
He wanted her, wanted to lose himself inside her. Wanted to feel that moment of brilliant burning sunlight that he had glimpsed before. It was a hunger that rarely left him. It rose now with maddening force, making him hard inside his breeches. As soon as he reached Tunbridge Wells, he would rent a cozy little cottage, carry Ariel off to bed, and make love to her until his body was sated with her warmth. Until the darkness was eased from his heart and, for a while at least, he felt the glow of sunshine coming from deep inside him.
It wouldn’t last, of course. Nothing could erase his true nature for long. The darkness would find him, descend again like a monster from the deep, dragging him down, wrapping him in its shadowy tentacles.
It would happen again as it always did, but not now. For now there was Ariel and she was a beacon in the darkness. For a while, at least, he intended to bask in the warmth.
* * *
The journey passed swiftly. Justin worked to make polite conversation and even smiled on occasion, but beneath his casual demeanor Ariel couldn’t miss the hot, seething hunger in his eyes. He didn’t try to disguise it as perhaps he might have but allowed her to glimpse the powerful effect she had on him. Seeing his blatant desire for her, feeling his barely leashed restraint, made her stomach muscles tighten, set off a warm little trembling in her limbs.
It was late afternoon by the time they reached Tunbridge Wells, Justin’s mood growing steadily darker, becoming an urgent restlessness that Ariel was feeling as well. He stopped at the office of one Harry Higginbottom, Estate Manager, whose name Justin had acquired in London, a man who handled the rental of properties in the area. Arrangements were made to rent a cottage that was actually a fairly large house with servants’ quarters and a stable in the rear. It sat at the end of a tree-covered lane at the outskirts of town, the two-story structure enveloped by a curtain of ivy. It overlooked a lovely little meadow ringed by trees decked out in bright fall colors.
“It’s charming,” Ariel said as he led her into the parquet-floored entry, then took her on a quick tour of the ground floor while the footmen carried their trunks upstairs. Though fashioned of stone, the house was nothing at all like the mansion in Brook Street. With its small, well-appointed parlors, colorful rugs, and dozens of sparkling mullioned windows, the house exuded warmth and charm.
They returned to the entry, Justin holding her hand. He glanced toward the curving staircase. “Shall we see what’s up there?” There was a husky edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. When she looked up at him, she saw that his eyes had grown dark. There was heat there, and so much hunger that an answering warmth curled in her stomach.
“Upstairs? Yes, I … I think that’s a very good notion.”
They hurried up the stairs to the second floor hand in hand, both of them laughing like playful children by the time they had reached the heavy wooden door that marked the master suite. She had never heard him laugh so freely. She wouldn’t have believed the sound could be so rich and warm. They stared at the door and slowly, their laughter faded.
“Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”
Ariel wet her lips, her eyes clinging to his, unable to look away. “Why don’t you show me?”
A muscle leaped in his cheek and his jaw flexed. Then he was lifting her up, opening the door, and striding in, kicking it closed with his foot. He set her on her feet, framed her face between his hands, and took her mouth in a ravenous kiss. It was deep and thorough, turning her stomach to liquid, sending a soft melting heat out through her limbs.
She wanted to touch him. She had to. With hands that suddenly trembled, Ariel shoved his jacket off his shoulders, dragged his shirt from the waistband of his breeches. His skin felt like soft, warm glass as her palms slid over the ridges of muscle across his back.
Justin worked the buttons at the back of her gown, and in minutes he had stripped her naked. His mouth found hers. His tongue slid over her bottom lip, and she opened to him, welcoming an even deeper kiss. He found her feminine softness, palmed it, stroked over the tiny nub in the middle. Ariel moaned and hurriedly began to unfasten the buttons closing the front of his breeches. He paused only long enough to tear away the balance of his clothes; then he carried her over to the bed, which was big and soft, and she sank into it beneath his weight.
“Ariel…” There was a note of reverence in his voice. His hands moved over her breasts—skillful, relentless, determined—wrenching a soft moan from her throat. He found the entrance to her passage, settled his hard length at her core, and drove himself deep inside.
A great shudder rippled through him and for a moment he went still.
Then slowly he started to move.
She whispered his name as he eased himself out and drove into her again, beginning to move faster, setting up a rhythm, making her own need soar. He gave her no quarter, just took what he wanted, and she discovered that she wanted it, too. Giving in to the deep, pounding force, she let the sensuous pleasure sweep over her, and in minutes she had reached her peak, swirls of sensation rushing over her in waves. Justin came with thundering urgency a few moments behind her, making her peak again.
Ariel clutched his neck as she spiraled down, smiling faintly, thinking how much she loved him. Knowing no matter how old she got, this would be the birthday she would always remember.
* * *
Tunbridge Wells, Ariel discovered, was a charming little resort set around the chalybeate springs that had been discovered there in 1609. Medicinal waters from the springs were sold in flasks to travelers, who came to the wells to escape the frantic bustle of London and enjoy the assembly rooms, elegant shops, and theaters that had been built around the wells.
Leaving the house after a night of exquisite lovemaking, Ariel accompanied Justin to town in his carriage. They luncheoned at a tiny restaurant that opened onto the tree-shaded Pantiles walk, then wandered among the shops and stores. They stopped for a while to listen to a concert in the park, then along the promenade watched a group of tumblers, tossing coins to a darling little monkey who scampered among the audience doffing his hat in thanks to the generous crowd.
As the afternoon wore on, Justin took her hand and led her into a shop that handled finely crafted jewelry. A small man, rather nondescript, wearing gold wire-rimmed spectacles beamed at them as they perused the expensive items in the glass case; then Justin asked to see a beautiful diamond-and-pearl necklace.
“Exquisite, isn’t it?” the clerk said, handing the expensive jewelry over.
Justin merely smiled. Stepping behind her, he draped the fabulous necklace around her throat. “For your birthday,” he said, surprising her. She had thought they were merely having fun—it never occurred to her he actually meant to buy it for her.
He motioned toward the clerk, whose smile turned smug and knowing as he glanced down at her hand and saw no sign of a wedding ring. Ariel felt a tightening in her stomach, and the smile she had been wearing slowly faded. Justin seemed not to notice, simply continued the transaction, making ready to purchase the extravagant gift as if it were no more than a trinket.
Ariel looked up at him and nervously shook her head. “No, please, my lord, I couldn’t possibly.…” Reaching behind her neck, she unfastened the diamond clasp, and the necklace dropped into her trembling hands. It was the sort of gift a man might purchase for his mistress, as the clerk had apparently guessed, and though they had made passionate love only hours ago, Ariel refused to think of herself that way.
“It’s lovely—truly it is—but I…” She glanced from the clerk’s smug face to Justin’s questioning dark expression, her heart beating painfully, praying he wouldn’t be offended. “It’s kind of you, but I don’t … I don’t wish for you to buy me such a gift.” His gaze traveled past her, lit on the clerk, then returned to her colorless face. His eyes remained there, knowing eyes, eyes that held a wealth of understanding.
He didn’t protest, just set the jewels back in the red velvet box on the counter and returned to studying the contents inside the glass case.
“I’d like to see that one if you please.” He pointed toward a simple gold locket, which the clerk far less excitedly handed over. It was oval, beautifully etched, and a single small diamond glittered in the center.
“Perhaps this is more to your liking.” He settled the locket around her throat and it felt cool and smooth against her skin. “Simple, yet as bright and sparkling as the lady who will wear it.”
Blinking back a sudden well of tears, she flashed him a heartfelt smile. Her trembling fingers lightly brushed the locket. “I adore it,” she said. “I shall treasure it always. Thank you, Justin.”
Something moved across his features. He took her gloved hand in his, turned it over, and pressed a kiss into the palm. Ariel felt that warm touch like wings against her heart.
“The afternoon is waning,” he said. “You must be getting tired. Perhaps we should return to the house.” The heat had returned to his eyes, and it was obvious what would happen when they got there.
Ariel smiled brightly, relaxed once more and definitely liking the notion. “That’s a very good idea, my lord.”
Justin returned the smile, and it occurred to her that there seemed to be more of them lately. Perhaps Clayton Harcourt had been right. Perhaps she could teach Justin to love.
Ariel fervently hoped so.
She loved him a little more each day. The thought of failing to win his love in return made a painful band tighten around her heart.