Chapter Twenty-Five

My head throbbed as supper with the newlyweds came to a close. Mama had continued her inexhaustible barrage of questions, Daisy had been her usual enthusiastic self, and Papa had eaten in stony silence. He hadn’t so much as glanced at me.

That silence spoke for itself. This is what you’ll have to look forward to if you disgrace our family.

I wouldn’t disgrace the family. Warren had offered me a way out. If he didn’t love me, I had to take it.

Then what? Would I find someone else to marry? My stomach churned at the thought. I didn’t want anyone else. Heaven help me, but I wanted a stubborn, argumentative, arrogant lord. I wanted Warren.

Could I accept him if he didn’t love me back? It wouldn’t be what I wanted, but at least I’d have him.

Emily cleared her throat from the doorway. She spread her skirts in a curtsey and in her meekest tone of voice said, “If it pleases the family to move into the blue parlor, I’ve set out tea, coffee, and seedcake for you to enjoy while you learn more about the new addition to the family.”

Mama stood with a grin. “What a splendid idea. Come, dear. Do say you’ll join us.”

Although Papa grumbled, he never disobeyed such a direct request from Mama. He rubbed at his eyes and stood. Daisy, hand in hand with her new husband, had already danced out the door. My head throbbed with renewed vigor at the thought of joining them, even if no one was paying me any mind.

Emily stepped in my path as I dragged my heels. “Miss Rose, you don’t seem at all well. Perhaps you should return to your room before you grow ill.”

I glanced over her shoulder toward Mama, but I needn’t have worried about her permission. She sailed through the door after her married daughter without sparing a thought for me. Papa followed, his demeanor frosty.

Without the force of his displeasure holding me up, my shoulders slumped. “Thank you, Emily. I didn’t know how I would endure more of Mama’s questions. She’s asked him everything under the sun at least twice already.”

Slipping her arm around my shoulders, Emily guided me through the doorway. “She means well, and he doesn’t seem to mind.”

I sighed. “He’s probably happy that he’s gotten a better reception with her than with me.” My head throbbed and I wondered if I ought to apologize. Now didn’t seem the time. Perhaps I’d find a moment alone with him later in the week, even if he had convinced my sister to leave without the courtesy of a note as to her intentions.

As we neared the front entrance, Emily dropped her arm and hung back. “You go up without me and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right after you.” Her smile was contagious as she turned to go down the hall. Maybe she’d bring me some tea and seedcake, too.

Bolstered by the thought, I hurried toward the front stairwell, only to stop short. At this late hour, most of the servants had gone to bed. Apparently, they’d neglected to pick up…a horseshoe? Frowning, I crouched to touch it, just to prove to myself that it was real. The heavy iron was cool in my hand.

Another two rested on the stairwell, a few steps in between them. When I collected those, I noticed another at the top, leading to the next floor. I looped them over my wrists as I went, following the trail of horseshoes all the way to my bedroom door. Cautiously, I opened it, peeking inside.

A candle burned on the table next to my bed, casting a warm, orange glow over the room. Perched on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his breeches and boots, was Warren. His maroon coat hung over the back of the chair nestled against the writing desk. Presumably the rest of his clothes fit beneath it. He fiddled with a horseshoe, passing it from one hand to the other.

For a moment, I lost my voice. Was I hallucinating?

My broad mattress with its drawn canopy usually dwarfed the room, since the only other pieces of furniture—the wardrobe, vanity, writing desk, and nightstands—lined the perimeter. With Warren’s broad shoulders devouring the space, the bed seemed much smaller. As did the room. His hair flirted with the top of his jaw.

The imprudence of him being here jolted through me. I shut the door with a bang and pressed my back against it. “What are you doing here?”

He jumped to his feet, making the room seem even smaller. The air charged with possibility. He looked hesitant. “I had to see you.”

It wasn’t the worst thing to spout from his lips. My pulse fluttered in my throat as I tried to formulate a response. I arranged the horseshoes on my writing desk to buy myself time. I couldn’t help but sneak glances at his muscular shoulders, smooth skin, and golden mat of chest hair.

“Did you misplace your clothes along the way?”

He grinned. Crossing the room in two strides, he laid the horseshoe he held atop the others. His hand brushed mine. Even through my glove, the touch made me burn. Why was he here?

In a soft voice, he said, “I thought we should go back to the night we met and start over.”

His thumb traced a slow circle over the back of my hand. Slowly, I raised my gaze to his. His eyes were rapt on the attention he lavished to my glove. The muted sensation sent tingles rippling from that spot.

My voice was hoarse when I managed to say, “You threw me over your shoulder and locked me in the withdrawing room.”

“I promise not to do that this time.”

I smirked. “I should hope not. But if you’ll recall, our time in the library wasn’t the friendliest, either.”

He shifted, positioning his body until he could brace both hands on the desk around me. His body bracketed mine, radiating a heat answered between my legs. My breasts started to ache, begging me to press up against him. Only inches away from my mouth, he craned his neck down. His gaze latched onto my lips.

“To the contrary, my dear. I think it was when we first realized we were meant for each other.”

I scoffed, even as my chest heated with his admission.

He raked his gaze over me, igniting a slow burn everywhere he lingered. “Your hair was wild.” He plucked the pins from my head, letting them fall onto the writing desk. They plinked where they struck the horseshoes. “Your dress was wet, clinging to your every curve.”

“Don’t you dare dump the washbasin on me.”

He chuckled, a low sound that pinched my gut.

With the backs of his fingers, he stroked my cheek. “You looked wild, an angel fallen to earth.”

“You asked me to kiss you.”

“I did.” His gaze dropped to my mouth. He licked his lower lip.

As I waited for him to ask me again, my entire body burned with anticipation.

Instead, he confessed, “If love is a construct meant to manipulate people, then you can lead me wherever you want. I’m yours, body and soul.”

My breath hitched. I clutched the edge of the desk to keep from reaching for him. “Are you…are you telling me that you love me?”

“I am.” His chest expanded with his deep breath. He dropped his hands, clenching and relaxing them at his sides. “You are so much a part of me that I can’t fall asleep or wake up without thinking of you. I cherish your smile more than I cherish my next breath. Without you, I feel as though I’m fumbling in the dark. I love you, Rose. Without a shadow of a doubt.”

My knees weakened. I fought the urge to fling myself into his arms. “You’ve kissed women before.” A smile flirted with my lips, but I held it at bay.

His expression turned guarded. “I have…”

I grinned. “Then one more kiss shouldn’t harm your reputation.”

He cupped my face. “Rose, the only reputation I want to have is as the fortunate soul you chose for your husband. Will you have me?”

“If you love me, yes. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“I do love you. Let me prove it to you.” As I melded my mouth to his, he encircled me with his arms and urged me closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

I pressed against him chest to chest, hip to hip. Our kiss turned urgent. His hands roved down my back to my rear, squeezing as he fitted me against him. The evidence of his arousal stirred against me. I rubbed against him, shamelessly seeking the passion that flared to life between us every time we touched. That now-familiar ache blossomed between my thighs.

When I broke the kiss, gasping for air, he panted every bit as hard. He leaned his forehead against mine. “Does that mean you love me, too?”

“Yes.” I kissed him, light and swift. “More than you know.”

His lips stretched in a smile. “I doubt it’s half what I feel for you.”

“Is this a competition?” As he stared to trail his lips along my jaw to my neck, I leaned my head to the side to give him greater access. Breathless, I added, “You know I’ll win.”

“By the end of the day, we’ll both have won.”

He pulled away. In a smooth movement, he dipped and slid his hand beneath my knees. He hoisted me into his arms and turned to the bed.

As he laid me onto the soft coverlet, he kissed me soundly. He blanketed my body with his. The feel of him surrounding me made me burn with anticipation. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

I turned my head, gasping for air. “If you love me, why did you offer to break off the engagement?”

He raised himself onto one elbow. His gaze was gentle as he stared down at me. He caressed my face with his eyes, leaving no inch unexamined. “I want you to be happy, Rose.” His voice was gravelly. “Even if that isn’t with me.”

With a smile, I urged him down to me once more. “Lucky for you, I think we can be very happy together.”

A grin bloomed across his lips a moment before he touched them to mine. He kissed me sweetly, but soon surrendered to the demand of our bodies. The kiss grew fierce. It swept through me like a touch. When he gyrated against me, I lifted my body to meet his.

He tore his mouth from mine to pepper kisses along my jaw. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every night since I met you.”

I tried to spread my legs to allow the bulge in his breeches to nestle against the aching part of my anatomy that craved him most, but my skirts hampered the movement. I moaned in frustration. “Show me what you’ve dreamed.”

He moaned, burying his face in my neck. His hot breath tickled my skin, raising goose bumps. “Are you sure you don’t want to save it for our wedding night?”

“Do you?”

He raised himself on one elbow to stare down at me. “No.” He guided a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “But I don’t want you to think me a cad who can’t control himself when around you.”

I smiled. “You don’t? I like the idea that I can drive you mad with desire.”

He grinned. “If you put your mind to it, I won’t have a prayer. No one can hold a candle to you, in body or in spirit.”

When he leaned down to kiss me again, I met him halfway. Our mouths brushed, lingering at first, but our passion for each other soon overwhelmed us. I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders, using him as an anchor as the world spun around us.

As he rolled onto his side, he snaked his arm around my back and pulled me with him. Cool air kissed the bare flesh above the scoop of my dress.

Warren mated his mouth to mine in slow, ardent kisses as he guided my hair over my shoulder and unbuttoned the back of my dress. I doffed my gloves and trailed my fingers down his front, reveling in the feel of his warm skin against mine. His deft fingers unlaced my stays, loosening them until the front of my dress gaped. He drew back, his hot gaze dropping to the shadow between my breasts. As he dipped his head, pressing kisses to the swell of my cleavage, I ran my hands over his smooth back.

I traced circles over his shoulders as he pressed his lips over my bare skin. He ran his hot palm over my shoulder and arm, pulling down the strap of my dress and chemise beneath. His tongue teased shivers from me as he laved the hollow at the base of my throat. My breath caught. I arched into him, begging for more.

The fabric of my dress scraped over my nipples as I shifted to undress. The tease brought a gasp to my lips. Warren kissed the sound away, his tongue delving into my mouth. I abandoned my teasing to clutch his shoulders instead.

The passion between us mounted until I ground my hips against him, mindlessly begging for more. He cupped my breast, teasing his palm over my nipple. I shivered and arched into him. He caught my bottom lip between his teeth, gently biting me then soothing the sting with his tongue. I curled my fingers into his muscular biceps.

He broke away. A smile teased his mouth, almost drowned out by the urgency in his eyes. “You make me feel like a king.”

I licked my lips, my gaze dropping to his mouth. It was flushed from our kisses. “Oh?” My voice was breathless, though I tried to make it teasing. “Should I hold out for a king?”

He kissed me, funneling all his frustration and passion and need until my head spun. When we broke for air, he whispered, “I’ll treat you like a queen, my dear. That I promise.”

I trembled with desire. The crush of my breasts to his chest was torture. I licked my lips as I drew back to admire his strong shoulders and the dusting of golden hair over his muscled chest. The hair darkened as it narrowed, pointing toward the waist of his breeches. When I trailed my fingers along that line, seeking out the buttons of his fall, he sucked in a breath. His abdomen tightened beneath my fingertips.

I worked his buttons free, one at a time. By the time I reached the last, he trembled. My head spun with the knowledge that I could make him quake with desire. I tugged down his breeches and hooked my fingers in the waistband of his drawers. In a slow slide, I revealed more of his skin as his hips arrowed in a V that led to his long, thick erection.

I’d never had cause to view a man unclothed before, but in a way, he was beautiful. His manhood jutted out, eager and proud. I touched it with light, reverent fingers.

He groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Don’t you like this?”

He shut his eyes. He appeared in pain. I started to retract my hand, but he caught me and held me to him. His grip was firm and confident.

When he met my gaze again, the lust in his expression made me squirm.

“I like it very much. You’re a tease.”

I grinned. “Maybe I want to tease you.”

He stepped off of the bed to strip his clothes and boots off. I used the opportunity to wriggle free of my dress, bunched around my waist. He never took his eyes off me. When the bodice of my dress caught snug around my hips, I decided to pull it off over my head instead.

The bed dipped on its ropes as he rejoined me. As my head emerged from my dress, he tangled his hand in the delicate fabric, trapping my arms over my head. With his other hand, he carefully extracted the strands of my hair caught in the buttons. He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling.

“If you enjoy teasing so much, maybe I should do it to you.”

He trailed his fingers down my neck to trace my collarbone. Goose bumps surged at his light, tantalizing touch. When he continued down to the swell of my breasts, I arched into his hand.

He chuckled. “Don’t like it, do you?”

“I do.” Frankly, I was surprised I was able to force out those two words. My breath seemed to have fled. “I want more.”

“Like this?” He dipped his head to trace my areola with his tongue.

A moan built in my throat at the potent sensation. I bit my lip to stifle it. “More.”

“This?” He took my nipple into his mouth with a hard suck.

I arched off the bed. “Warren!”

His chuckle vibrated through me, adding to the pleasure. When he raised his head, his gaze turned wicked. “If you aren’t quiet, you’ll call the entire house down on us.”

Heat mantled my cheeks. I turned my face away. He leaned close to me, brushing his lips over my color-stained skin. He whispered in my ear, “I wouldn’t mind shouting our forthcoming marriage from the rooftops, but I’d prefer no one interrupted us just yet.”

The gentle look in his eye mitigated my embarrassment. “I’d rather no one interrupted at all. I’ll be quieter.”

His gaze twinkled. “I make no promises.”

His expression turned predatory as he released his hand from the wadded dress. He stripped it the rest of the way from my skin and let it crumple to the floor. The moment my arms were free, I reveled in the ability to touch him. I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his arms and back. I pressed him to me as he reclaimed my mouth. His heat soaked into me. I lifted one of my legs and curled it over his hip.

His hand burned me, making me squirm and arch against him as he ran it down my side to my thigh. He plucked at the tie on my stocking. His thick erection brushed against the curls at the apex of my thighs as he ground into me. The tip teased my abdomen. I reached between us, stroking his velvet skin. He paused, in the process of rolling down the thin silk covering my leg, as he groaned. The throb between my legs mounted.

“Forget the stocking.” My breath came in pants.

He abandoned the fabric to slide his hand up my body to cradle the side of my face. He kissed me with a franticness I matched.

Sliding his free hand between us over my hand, he used my grip to guide his erection between my legs. The crown brushed through my folds as he positioned himself at my entrance. He lifted his head, locking his gaze with mine as he slid into my channel.

The friction was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It compared to the stroke of his fingers only in a pale, echo-like way. His erection stretched me as he invaded me. At that moment, with my body conforming to fit his, I felt as though we’d been made to do this. My love for him swelled, stealing my breath. He threaded his fingers through mine and guided my hand away to sheathe himself completely.

It hurt a bit, but he moved slowly. The thrust and retreat soon made me squirm with anticipation. I lifted my hips to meet his. I hooked my ankles in the small of his back. The muscles of his rear flexed beneath my calf.

He kissed me as he quickened the pace. With his body over mine, every thrust scraped my aching nipples across the wiry mat of his chest hair. I trembled. I clutched his hand. He broke the kiss, murmuring encouragements and groans over my lips.

Passion overwhelmed me, mounting with every stroke. I met it blindly, searching for the magic he’d wrought with me in a different bed. This time, there was nothing to keep us apart. I climbed higher and higher, my body tightening around his as I searched for that elusive pinnacle. When he dipped his head to run his tongue over my nipple, I found it. With violent spasms, I convulsed around him. I bit my lip to hold back my groans. He followed me into bliss, burying himself deep as his erection twitched.

The euphoria lingered. I made a noise of protest as Warren pulled away from me, but he collapsed beside me instead. He drew me closer to lie across him. My cheek rested against his chest, his strong heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“So that’s what making love is like.” My voice was drowsy. I shut my eyes, soaking in the peaceful moment.

Warren interrupted it by laughing. “Yes, my dear. Making love.”

He spoke the words as though he’d never said them aloud before, never contemplated the meaning. He traced circles over my back.

“I do love you.”

I turned my face to press my lips against his skin. I was too lazy to move further. “I love you, too.”

We snuggled closer. Slowly, his breathing and heartbeat slowed. It lulled me toward a blissful sleep rivaled only by the pleasure of being awake in his arms.