Grace moved silently through the house and exited by means of a window in her father’s study. Helen had already gone to bed, exhausted from having risen early that morning and spending hours in a carriage. That left Grace free to slip out of the house shortly after the sun went down. She couldn’t risk trying to saddle a horse herself and being caught, so she set out on foot in the direction of the village.
It took her three quarters of an hour to reach the cottage the captain had mentioned he’d be renting for the remainder of his stay in Somerset. When she finally arrived, her stomach was in knots. She could very well imagine what Hathaway’s servant—surely he’d have at least one with him—would think when he found an unescorted woman paying a call after dark.
She almost sagged with relief when the door was opened by Hathaway himself. Surprise, then delight, lit his face when he saw her. He glanced over her shoulder and his smile turned into a frown.
“Please tell me you didn’t arrive on foot?”
She couldn’t resist the urge to dip into a deep curtsy, saying, “It is very nice to see you too, Captain.”
For a moment she thought he was going to lecture her about safety, but in the end, his good humor won out. He opened the door even wider, and she stepped into the hallway.
“I’d offer you refreshments, but…” He gave a small shrug. “I only have my valet with me and he has gone out.”
Hathaway’s words set one small part of her mind at ease. At least he didn’t have scores of servants who would immediately brand her a trollop.
They were alone in the house, and her pretense was now at an end. Grace took a deep breath to steady her nerves and met his gaze. There was no point moving to the small sitting room she spied on the right. Once he learned the truth, the captain would give her Freddie’s letter, and she would be on her way again.
“I am here to let you know my sister arrived this afternoon.” She hesitated, dreading what she must confess now.
Hathaway nodded. “I’ll call tomorrow then.”
Somehow she had to tell him the truth. “About that, there is something I must tell you. I—” She froze when Hathaway placed a finger over her lips.
“Let me speak first.”
The way he was looking at her, the fact that his hand had moved and now he was cupping her face, rubbing his thumb over her lower lip, left her bereft of speech. She could only nod.
“Once my duty here is discharged, I will be leaving.”
She waited, knowing he wanted to say more.
“I don’t want to waste what little time we have together talking about your sister. I would much rather talk about you and me.”
He stepped closer so their bodies were almost touching and she found it difficult to breathe. She could see the heat in his eyes as he gazed down at her, trying to tell her without words just what he wanted from her.
She wanted the same thing.
He seemed to be waiting for her reply. She knew he wouldn’t press her, that the decision about what happened next lay with her. If she told him the truth now, he would step away from her. He wanted the experienced woman he thought her to be, not the innocent for whom he felt only duty. If she allowed that to happen, she would spend the rest of her life regretting her cowardice. This was her one chance to know passion. To experience the fulfillment of a desire only he seemed capable of rousing. Whether she ended up marrying someone who left her feeling lukewarm or spent the remainder of her days a spinster, she would at least have this one memory to look back on.
Before her nerves could get the better of her, she reached up and drew his head down. She saw the flare of satisfaction in his eyes before she closed her own and waited for his kiss. She didn’t have to wait long. With a softly whispered endearment, he pressed his mouth to hers. This kiss was so different from the one they’d shared the day before. He drew her body against his, and when she opened her mouth in surprise, he took advantage of the opportunity to thrust his tongue within.
Heat suffused her at the intimacy. She’d never kissed a man like this—had only offered Freddie a peck on the cheek before he’d left—but somehow she knew what to do. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she twined her tongue with his.
When he lifted his head minutes later, a hint of red stained the top of his cheekbones. She was incapable of speech, but none was necessary. Hathaway took hold of her hand in his larger, callused one and led her toward the stairs.
It was only as she followed him that she realized the captain wore only a shirt and trousers, and she couldn’t help but stare at the way his muscles shifted as he moved. He was so broad, and she’d felt how strong he was when he’d held her against him.
He opened the door to his bedchamber and waited for her to enter first. If she were going to change her mind, now would be the time to do it. But Grace had committed to this, she wanted it more than she’d thought possible. Anticipation filled her as she preceded him into the room.
Her gaze fell first on the large bed, then on the trunk placed at its foot. Resting atop was a sealed note.
“Let’s not think of Freddie,” he said, taking her hand again and turning her to face him. “Tonight there is only the two of us.”
She nodded, relief filling her when he pressed her close and kissed her again. As his mouth devoured hers, his fingers touched her through the fichu she’d tucked into the bodice of her dress, and with a flick of his wrist, he removed it. She gave a helpless whimper, her excitement increasing. This was really happening. She was in Hathaway’s bedchamber, sharing intimacies she had only imagined.
“Captain—” she started, drawing back.
He gave his head a sharp shake. “No, call me Edward. I want no reminders of war in here.”
She licked her lips, and his eyes narrowed on the small movement. “You must show me what you want me to do, Edward.”
Her words seemed to startle him, and she remembered he thought her a widow. She was supposed to know what to do.
Working only on instinct, trying to make him forget her careless mistake, she pulled his shirt from his trousers and burrowed her hands underneath. The feel of his hot skin under her fingers felt deliciously wicked. Her gamble had paid off. He made an impatient sound, turned her around, and started undoing the buttons of her dress. There were far too many of them, but finally he reached the last one. He pushed the fabric from her shoulders, and she felt a hint of alarm when it fell to the floor.
She had to remind herself that he thought her experienced, so of course he wouldn’t feel the need to go slowly. When her stays followed next, she drew in a deep breath. He groaned in appreciation and cupped her breasts from behind through her chemise.
Now it was her turn to groan. His body was hard behind her, his hands insistently cupping and kneading her, and when he ran his thumbs over her nipples, heat spiked through her.
“I have imagined doing this to you.” His voice was low against the skin of her neck and gooseflesh rose on her arms.
He turned her, again and, before she realized his intent, dragged her chemise down her shoulders. She should have been embarrassed when her breasts sprang free, but the way he looked down at her, as though she were the most beautiful woman he had ever beheld, made her only want more. She was lost to sensation as he caressed her again, and when he lowered his head to take the tip of one breast into his mouth, it fueled her desire.
Needing to feel his skin, she pulled at his shirt. He obliged her, drawing back to lift the garment over his head. She could only stare at him in appreciation.
“We’re going too fast,” he said. “I want to savor every inch of your body. Take all night to worship you.”
She shook her head, her curls bobbing. She couldn’t be away from home all night. With each hour that passed, the risk grew that someone would discover she was missing.
If he’d known who she was, she didn’t think she’d be able to act in so forward a manner, but since he thought her a widow, she could touch him however she liked. Relying only on her instincts, hoping they would be sufficient to keep her from doing something wrong, she lowered her hand to the bulge in his trousers and stroked him. She was rewarded when his breath hissed out of him.
“You are more than I could have imagined, H—”
She cut him off with a kiss. It would spoil everything if he called her by her sister’s name now.
When he lifted her in his arms and tossed her onto the bed a moment later, she knew she had succeeded in making him forget his vow to go slowly. She tilted her hips so he could remove her chemise completely.
She watched in silence as he stepped out of his trousers, then his smallclothes underneath. When he straightened, she couldn’t take her eyes from his arousal. It jutted out from his body, and she felt the first stirrings of alarm at its size. She knew what was supposed to happen now, but found it hard to imagine that he would actually fit inside her.
“You’re so large,” she said.
His eyes heated, and she realized he’d taken her words as a compliment.
He joined her on the bed then. If she’d thought it wonderful to be held in his embrace before, the feel of his body now, all his warm skin sliding against her own, almost left her mindless with pleasure.
She thought he would enter her then, but instead he began to trail hot kisses down her body. Knowing how much he liked her breasts, she wasn’t surprised when he spent some time caressing and kissing them. What she didn’t expect, however, was for him to move even lower.
She was completely out of her element and had vowed she wouldn’t protest, but one minute later, she did just that when he spread her legs wide and moved his head between them. “What are you doing?”
He answered her by setting his mouth over her intimately and stroking her with his tongue. Her hips jerked up off the bed.
This was too much. Did men actually kiss women there? They must.
The sight of him between her legs, coupled with the bliss spreading through her, was too much. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to sensation as he continued tormenting her with his mouth and tongue. When he thrust a finger inside her, her entire body tensed before a wave of intense pleasure, unlike anything she’d ever experienced, ripped through her.
When he moved to cover her body with his again, she was still struggling to recover her breathing.
“I never imagined…”
His smile was strained. “You feel tight. How long has it been?”
She shook her head, unable to voice yet another lie. He didn’t ask again. When he lifted one of her legs, she realized he wanted her to clamp them around his hips. She did so, her breath hitching when she felt his hardness pressing against her.
She tried not to tense. She’d heard that some women, particularly those who were avid riders as she was, didn’t feel much pain when they made love for the first time. Still, he was watching her too closely. When he started to enter her, she lifted her head and kissed him. He groaned against her mouth as he sank into her with a single thrust.
It appeared she wasn’t one of those women who felt no pain. She stiffened at first, but when Edward would have moved to look down at her, she clung to his neck and deepened the kiss. He didn’t protest, and after a few moments, the discomfort had receded.
He began a steady thrusting motion between her legs, and before long she started to feel the stirrings of desire rise within her again.
He tore his mouth from hers and she allowed it, feeling the need to try to catch her breath. But she couldn’t, and then she was coming apart again, splintering into a thousand pieces. He stared down at her as he continued to move, but she was too caught up in what she was experiencing to be embarrassed by his scrutiny. Much to her surprise, she found she very much liked the fact that he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from her.
He closed his eyes and jerked his hips away from her then, and she felt the warmth of his release against her inner thigh.
He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. They lay like that for several minutes, their bodies pressed tightly together as they struggled to right their breathing. She needed to remember everything about this moment. The way she could feel his heartbeat against her own chest, the solid feel of his warm skin against hers, the way he held her as though he never wanted to let her go.
Her heart was still racing several minutes later when she realized that nothing had changed. She still needed to tell him the reason for her visit.
She pulled away and rose to sit on the edge of the bed as she struggled with what to say. She couldn’t blurt out the truth, not after what had just happened between them.
He made a funny, strangled sound that surprised her.
“What is the matter?” she asked as she looked over her shoulder at him.
But he wasn’t looking at her. Her eyes followed his, and she froze when she realized he was staring down at her blood on his bedsheets.