Authors: Elizabeth Squire
As though reading her thoughts Sin turned to her. ‘We don’t always get the answer we’re looking for,
mon fleur
. Sadly, this whole incident just forms a small piece of a larger puzzle. We work to solve it one piece at a time.’
Nate nodded in agreement. ‘I feel there is yet more we have to discover, but we are in the damnable position of having to rebuild a portion of our network. And that, I fear, is going to take some time to do.’
To her right, Liliane noticed Sir Avery was looking at Yvette intently. She looked at her cousin to see that she was returning his regard, a silent communication passing between them. Liliane’s skin prickled, but couldn’t deny the unspoken proposition made perfect sense.
***
Liliane’s bedroom door slid open and she sat upright, clasping the blankets tightly to her body. ‘Shh,
mon fleur
, don’t be alarmed.’
Sin. She relaxed back against the headboard and tried to calm her trembling hands. ‘You startled me.’
He locked the door behind him and came to sit on the bed. Reaching a hand up to caress her face he looked intently into her eyes. ‘I wanted to see how you were. To see how you were dealing with the events of today. I was worried about you.’
Liliane’s heart swelled with warmth and longing for this man. She looked into his fathomless brown eyes and read the depth of his emotions, the sincerity of his words. The memory of his declaration beside the boathouse returned to her with the force of a lightning bolt.
Tentatively she lifted a hand and brushed the ever-present lock of hair back from his face. ‘This afternoon, you said things that may have seemed like the right thing to say in the heat of the moment. I understand the effects of aftermath can often cause people to reach out to one another—I won’t hold you to what you said.’
Sin moved to interrupt, but she shushed him with two fingers pressed gently to his lips. Another tremor raced through her, she paused and swallowed. ‘Over the past few weeks, I have not treated you very fairly. I’ve selfishly put my own needs before yours, without stopping to consider that, just perhaps, I may have been wrong. But I want you—need you—to know that today, by the lake, I meant every word I said to you.’
She held his gaze, needing him to see the sincerity of her words. ‘I love you, Sinclair. Probably from the moment you scowled at me that first day we met. Certainly from the night we spent in the shepherd’s hut, undoubtedly when I took my leave of you at Gaston and Anais’s farm, and definitely as I sit here before you.’
Her breath caught in the back of her throat as Sin continued to look at her, his face an impenetrable mask.
She lifted up to her knees and turned to face him. ‘But I also want you to forgive yourself. You didn’t kill Gareth, you know.’
Sin frowned at her, saying nothing. She resisted the urge to sigh; the man should realise by now that she was used to his introspection, that she could discern his feelings, almost as if they were her own.
‘I crossed the Channel in the middle of a storm because I was running from my life. Both my parents and my brother are dead and Great-Aunt Woolner was demanding I secure a marriage proposal to the most pompous bore to grace the Ton’s ballrooms.’
She wrapped her arms tightly about her waist, clasping her elbows as though to physically hold back the pain that still assailed her. ‘I didn’t want a husband of her choosing foisted upon me, all I wanted was to choose my own destiny. By going to France I was trying to escape everything that was wrong in my life.’
Wordlessly Sin pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms about her. She sunk into his warmth and rested her head against his shoulder. The deep timbre of his voice vibrated through her.
‘Surely you understood that it was the fever that killed your Mama and Jamie. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to change that. When fate intervenes, the matter is taken out of our hands. All we can do is pick up the pieces afterwards.’
Liliane looked up into the depth of Sin’s eyes. She felt consumed by the warmth and compassion that was there for her. But she was also reassured by the pragmatism of his words, words that were equally applicable to him. Oh, the silly man, couldn’t he see Gareth’s death was also the hand of fate.
She cupped his jaw in one hand and, trying to ignore the thrill of his stubble rasping against her palm, smiled ruefully at him. ‘And that, you obstinate man, is exactly what I have been telling you. Gareth made his own decisions that night. He decided to travel to the rendezvous alone, he knew the risks, and he gambled on them. Him, not you.’
He stiffened under her touch. His voice, when he spoke, was gravelly with suppressed emotion. ‘You don’t understand. If my father hadn’t died, if I hadn’t had to return home to take over the title, it would have been me there that night. Gareth died for me.’
Liliane held still as she felt the tremors race through his body. ‘No Sin, Gareth died doing his job. Nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed that. What you can change is how you go forward from here.’
She lifted her other hand to his face, holding him gently so he was compelled to look at her. ‘Look at everything you have achieved so far—you lured out De Bois, and you revealed the treacherous role Henri Lyon and Michel Allard played. Now you must honour Gareth’s memory.’
Gently, she wiped her thumbs over his eyelids, brushing away the tears that hovered there. She felt the tension slowly leave Sin’s body as his posture relaxed against her. His rueful laugh washed over her.
‘That’s what I love about you, Liliane, you don’t hide from the truth of things, and you don’t let me hide from the truth.’
He laughed some more. ‘You know, I viewed my first marriage as the perfect union—I was free to pursue my own interests and it required no emotional commitment. But it was the loneliest existence you could possibly imagine.’ He sighed. ‘When I met you I couldn’t imagine ever marrying again, to subjecting myself to that again. Now,’ he lowered his head and kissed her reverently, ‘and now, I couldn’t imagine not being married. I couldn’t imagine not being there to protect you, to share my day with you, to hold you close to me. You are essential to me in a way I never knew possible. You complete me.’
Liliane closed her eyes and drank in his words, let them wash over her, let herself drown in the depths of his love. Opening her eyes, there were no shutters, no barriers, she let him see all the love that she felt for him. The love that was imprinted upon her soul.
Sin rose from the bed and crossed the room to her dresser. With uncertainty she watched as he returned to her side and sunk to his knees beside the bed. In one hand he held a single red rose. Reaching for her hand he drew it to his lips and deposited a gentle kiss upon her knuckles and held the rose towards her.
‘Liliane Celeste Desailly Charlcroft, will you bestow upon me the honour of remaining my wife? Will you, before the eyes of our friends and family, marry me—again?’
Liliane reached for the rose, and swallowed back the sob that welled from deep within. She nodded, her voice too unsteady to be trusted to utter the one word she so desperately wanted to say to him. Hauling in a deep breath she nodded again. ‘Yes. Yes, Sinclair, I’ll marry you before the eyes of our friends and family. I’ll be your wife, for now and forever.’
Sin looked at her for long, hard seconds and then surged up to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Passion, hot and carnal, exploded between them.
Liliane entwined her fingers in the dark hair that curled about the nape of his neck, sliding her hands up until they anchored behind his head. With one leg hooked about his, she lay backwards, pulling him down atop her.
She felt the warmth of his humour against her ear as he chuckled. ‘Impatient, aren’t you. Such a pity that you’re just going to have to wait.’
Sin sat back, kneeling between her legs. His eyes glinted in anticipation. ‘Lay still,’ he growled, ‘let me look at you.’ He drew her nightdress upward, inch by slow inch until her body was bare to his gaze and then with one fluid motion he pulled it over her head and tossed it on the floor. She lay naked, pinned by his gaze, scorched by the flames of passion that flowed from him as his eyes feasted upon her from head to toe.
Without warning his stood up and flipped her onto her stomach, a hand, gentle but firm, holding her to the bed. Liliane shivered, assailed with uncertainty, as she heard his throaty chuckle. The bed dipped under his weight as he moved to kneel between her legs.
‘This is for you to enjoy,’ he whispered against the back of her neck. ‘Close your eyes and trust me.’
Sprawled as she was, the cool night air washing over her most intimate flesh, she felt exposed and deliciously aroused. She sucked in a short breath as he lifted one foot and gently caressed her inner sole until she squirmed. Felt the smile upon his lips as he deposited a trail of kisses, scorching in their intimacy, from her instep, upward along the length of her leg. She giggled when he reached the tender spot behind her knee and paused to savour the delicate flesh before resuming his slow trail of destruction.
‘Aaah,’ she groaned as she felt his hands cup the globes of her bottom. Slowly he started to massage her tired flesh, moving up over the muscles of her back and shoulders, instinctively applying pressure where she needed it most, soft caresses elsewhere. He plied her muscles in a sensual rhythm until she melted against the mattress from the pleasure he wrought upon her.
Liliane murmured in protest as she felt him move away from her, then sighed when she felt him press a gentle kiss to the base of her spine and apply pressure to her hips, urging her to turn onto her back. She looked up at him through glazed eyes, acutely conscious of being naked while he remained fully closed. She sat upright and reached for him to drag his shirt from the waistband of his pants. ‘It’s not fair that you should be dressed while I’m fully naked. Take your clothes off for me. Let me touch you, let me feel you.’
His cravat and waistcoat had been dispensed with long ago. She heard the clunk of his shoes hitting the floor. Impatience caused her to fumble as she struggled to relieve him of his shirt. He laughed, deep and sensuously, igniting a tremor of anticipation at her core. He pushed her hands aside and swept his shirt over his head, and in equally short order dispensed with his breeches.
Liliane felt her mouth water at the splendid sight of him standing before her. His skin, dusky in the light of the lamp, rippled over the contours of his muscles. She longed to spread her hands against his chest, to feel the crisp hair beneath her palms.
Her eyes dropped lower and took in his magnificence. His cock stood erect and proud before her, beckoning her to taste him. She slipped forward and wound her hand around his shaft, holding it steady before she lowered her head and wiped her tongue across its head. She heard the hiss of air as Sin struggled to maintain his composure. Emboldened, she repeated the gesture, lapping the small bead that pearled on the tip of his shaft. Sensing his barely withheld restraint she opened her lips over his organ, and sucked.
Sinclair groaned deeply, felt his body tighten, his orgasm build. He couldn’t withstand another moment of this, not without disgracing himself. In one fluid movement he lifted Liliane away from himself, laid her out on the bed and drove forward. He pinned her arms above her head and filled her to the hilt. She softened beneath him immediately, adjusted herself to fit his contours and started to move beneath him.
Together, with their bodies, their mouths, their words, they renewed their vows, confirmed the promise they had made all those months ago, made when neither realised how deeply their lives and their hearts were already entwined. Fate had brought them together, had sealed their destiny. Love would secure their future.
Liliane’s gasp echoed against the night as she shifted to accommodate his movements. He adjusted his rhythm, determined to take her to completion. She wrapped her legs about his hips and joined him as he ensured her ultimate pleasure. Their eyes met, clung together and declared their love for each other as they crested the summit and rode the wave to paradise.
After what could have been hours, or mere minutes, Sinclair opened his eyes and shifted to the side, easing his weight from her. One leg lay across her, keeping her at his side. A hand, possessive in its hold, lay cupped over her breast, claiming her as his own. He nuzzled the delicate line of her jaw, his lips tracing a path to her mouth. He waited until she turned her head to face him, ensuring she was looking at him, and whispered against her mouth, ‘I love you, Liliane.’
***
Two blissful days later, Sin’s ballroom shimmered in candlelight, the air redolent with the smell of freshly cut flowers. Liliane smiled broadly. Marianne had worked wonders to transform the space into a moonlit garden on such short notice. Around her guests laughed and chatted gaily, delighted at Sin’s suggestion for an impromptu dance. Nothing formal, he had assured everyone, but an opportunity for some dancing and light revelry, and perhaps a surprise or two.
Liliane gasped as Sara Dudley whispered something against Yvette’s ear. ‘What did you just say?’
Sara cast a glance at Yvette who nodded her ascent. ‘Mama received a letter from Lady Longton today.’ She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. ‘It’s all about town that when Lady Denison left here with Mr Parkes, they headed north.’ Sara grasped Liliane’s hand. ‘You won’t believe this, but they have eloped to Gretna Green.’
Liliane choked back a laugh. ‘Oh my! However is he going to curb her impetuous ways? That lady will lead him a very merry dance.’ Everybody laughed and nodded their heads in agreement.
A movement at her side alerted her to the presence of Albert Dudley, a sheepish smile upon his face.
‘I feel I owe you an apology,’ Albert began, ‘I behaved in a somewhat ungentlemanly manner towards you the other night, and I am, without reservation, sorry. Please say you forgive me.’
This time Liliane laughed out loud. ‘Oh Albert, you silly boy, I wasn’t the least bit offended. Surprised—yes. Offended—certainly not. I shall save you a dance later this evening.’