One Week Later

 

Elizabeth took Callum’s hand as he helped her into the carriage. Unbearably conscious of the looks leveled at them, she did her best to ignore them as they took their first outing as Lord and Lady Aycliff. Callum hadn’t wasted any time in securing the special license or finding a willing vicar to perform their long-delayed marriage ceremony. And while the guest list consisted of her, Callum, Henrietta, and Donald, Elizabeth found she didn’t care.

The sun hid behind several ever-darkening clouds and a hint of rain scented the park, but Elizabeth felt as if the sun shone down on them. It was quite the change from a mere week ago when Callum took her home from the Hellfire Club. Then, she’d wanted to hide from the world, to protect his reputation no matter the cost to herself.

Today, despite the uncomfortable, and blatant, gazes from the ton, she felt far freer than she had since they arrested her father.

“See,” Callum said with a wicked grin that heated her blood. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“No,” she agreed, surprised. Sliding across to his seat, she curled into his side and sighed, perfectly content. “No, it wasn’t.”

The ride to the townhouse was short, and Elizabeth closed her eyes to enjoy the silence. Callum’s arm came round her and she wondered if the invitations, the dinners and parties so important to a man in his position would continue to flow. Or if marriage to a traitor’s daughter would cause those invitations to evaporate into nothing.

He must have sensed her concern, for Callum caressed her shoulder, took her hand and kissed the back of it. The carriage pulled up to their townhouse, and he tilted her chin up for a brief kiss.

Several people walked along the street, but the one who stood out as she walked purposefully toward them proved to be Lady Hightower. Elizabeth gathered her cloak to her and squared her shoulders. Lady Hightower’s reputation preceded her—known for her wicked tongue and unforgiving manner, she wasn’t the woman Elizabeth wanted to see so soon after her first successful outing.

Refusing to back down in the face of so renowned a gossip, Elizabeth purposely waited for the other woman to walk closer.

“Aycliff!” Lady Hightower said with as much enthusiasm as Elizabeth had ever heard from another person. “And my dear Lady Aycliff,” she added with a bright smile. “You must allow me to congratulate you both. Such a story,” she gushed, taking Elizabeth’s hand and patting it. “Such a wonderful story.”

She took Callum’s hand and squeezed it as if they were all the closest of friends.

“Your match will be the celebration of the season!” Lady Hightower turned back to her and squeezed her hand again. Elizabeth suddenly wished she’d disappeared into the townhouse. “You are such a lucky young woman, my dear Lady Aycliff, to have so romantic a husband. One,” she said with what Elizabeth swore was a wink at Callum, “who has proven he’d go to any lengths for you.”

Then she frowned with such ferocity, Elizabeth feared she might hurt herself. Lady Hightower shook her head vehemently. “It’s a good thing those scoundrels have been properly dealt with.”

She shook her head and was once more all smiles. “But we’ll forget about that now, shan’t we? You’ll be the busiest couple this season, as everyone wants you on their guest list. And you must come for tea very, very soon, Lady Aycliff,” she insisted. “We’ve much to discuss.”

Having no idea what they could possibly have to discuss, Elizabeth kept her smile in place and thought quickly on how to proceed. Not truly wanting to have tea with Lady Hightower, she nonetheless supposed she should, if only to appease the old biddy—and quell all future gossip about her and Callum.

“I look forward to it, Lady Hightower,” Elizabeth said before the other woman could continue on. She couldn’t even be certain the woman breathed when she spoke.

“Have you heard about Westfield?” Lady Hightower asked, though she had to know Elizabeth had been ostracized from the ton and wouldn’t have heard a thing about the earl. “There’s some slight scandal about his intended bride.” She waved as if to say she’d tell all over tea. “But I’ve held you up enough, my dear. I’ll let the newly married enjoy their day.” She winked at Elizabeth and added, “We’ll talk soon.”

Callum escorted her to the front door, which Stark already held open. He shot her a look that clearly said he’d been right and all her fears over her reception back into society were for naught. She refrained from commenting on that and instead chose to make one about Lady Emilia Hightower.

“Has she always been like that?” Elizabeth asked as they walked inside.

“Always,” Callum agreed. “And I do believe her meeting us here was no accident.”

Shaking her head, Elizabeth had to agree. She took off her cloak, gave Stark her gloves and hat, and turned back to her husband. Unable to help the warmth that word gave her, she took his hand in hers, uncaring if the butler saw her action or not.

Callum’s eyes darkened to nearly black and Elizabeth’s blood heated. He lifted her hand to his lips, turned it over and kissed her palm. Lips parted, breathing heavy, she stepped closer. Stark had disappeared, and some distant part of her wondered if he had beat a hasty retreat because he remembered how she and Callum used to be.

The insatiable passion between them, the often inappropriate areas of the house they enjoyed each other in.

“Come upstairs, love,” she whispered, tugging him to her. “I think we’ve scandalized the servants quite enough for one day.”

His eyes flashed, and she laughed. She knew her lover all too well, and knew he cared not one wit for the servants or their sensibilities. Still, with her reputation so newly restored, and a niggling piece of her still concerned over him, Elizabeth didn’t want anyone gossiping about them so soon after their hurried wedding.

Tugging his hand again, she walked backwards and urged him to follow her. Callum did so without hesitation. Before she reached the first step, he grabbed her about the waist and pulled her to him.

His mouth crushed hers, a hard, demanding kiss that left her breathless and aroused. Elizabeth wound her arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back. She needed him closer, needed to feel his skin against hers. After so long without him, Elizabeth found she couldn’t get enough.

“Callum,” she breathed.

Before she could think clearly enough to turn for the stairs, Callum had picked her up. Holding on tight, she kissed him again, grinding her hips to his as he carried her across the foyer, down the hallway, and to his office. It was a short trip, and Elizabeth nipped along his jaw as he carried her to the privacy of the room.

The door slammed behind him, and, without bothering to look around, Elizabeth kissed him. Some small part of her wondered if they’d had this last year if they’d still be this passionate or if their ardor would have cooled by now. Somehow, she doubted it.

“I love you,” she gasped as he sat her on his desk, mouth hungry on hers.

His hands slid up her thighs, mouth tasting down her neck, across her shoulders. “And I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “Without you I’m in hell.”

Elizabeth whimpered, desperate to feel him, and quickly untied his breeches. Callum teased her, one nail scrapping over her nub until she thought she’d go mad. The fingers of his other hand gently lifted her breast from the confines of the bodice, pinching the nipple until she gasped and jerked against him.

“Callum,” she begged, arching against him. “Callum, please.”

She could feel his wicked grin curve against her shoulder, but instead of answering, instead of easing her need, he kissed over her shoulder and took her aching nipple into his mouth. His teeth mercilessly tugged it, and Elizabeth cried out, holding him closer, wrapping her legs about his waist, pleading.

Cupping his cock, she circled the tip. Pleasure spiked through her when he growled at her touch. Guiding him into her, Elizabeth cried out when he thrust hard, filling her.

His hands gripped her hips, and he moved then, pounding into her. Her orgasm built and built, and Elizabeth urged him faster, harder. She held him close, needing this completion, needing him in her as she climaxed.

Callum’s fingers found her nub again, sending her careening over the edge and she cried out his name. Shuddering in his arms, Elizabeth felt his release, heard him say her name over and over.

Holding him tight, she kissed his shoulder, his neck, found his lips. A slow kiss, she felt it wind through her—love and need.

“I love you,” she repeated, resting her head on his shoulder, eyes closing.

“Don’t leave me again.” It was a growl, a threat, a promise. Callum gently lifted her and straightened her gown, but Elizabeth didn’t care about the material.

Staring into his eyes, still black with passion, with the strength of his need, she kissed him once on the lips, ensuring his complete attention.

“Never again.”