Love With an Improper Stranger (28 page)

“
What
?”  Sabrina leaped to her feet, and her chair fell to the floor.  “No.  Father, I beseech you,
no
.  Do not take Everett from me, as I know not how to live without him.”  She splayed wide her arms in supplication.  “What of your grandchildren?  And I am pregnant.  Would you orphan my babes?”

“Darling, it will be fine.”  Everett attempted to calm her.  “I have maintained the
Dauntless
, in the event I was recalled to duty, and I thought you quite partial to sea captains.  Are you not proud?”

“Oh, if I wanted a bloody sea captain I would have married one, and always I have been proud to call myself your countess.”  With balled fists, Sabrina burst into tears.  “Papa, if you do this, if my beloved Everett is harmed, I will never forgive you.”  Emitting a high-pitched shriek, she ran from the gathering.

Lady Amanda eased from her seat.  “I should go to her.”

“No, Amanda.”  Everett tossed his napkin to his plate and stood.  “It is my responsibility.”  Yet Sabrina’s mother followed him into the hall.

As another hush fell on the group, beneath the table, Blake twined his little finger with Lenore’s, and in that seemingly meager connection she found consolation and resolve, as she needed his comfort.

“Captain of my heart.”  Alex reached for her man, and Jason promptly scooted back and pulled her into his lap.

“It will be all right, my angel.”  The enormous blonde kissed his wife.  ‘We beat Boney once, and I daresay we will defeat him again.”

“I should make preparations for our departure.”  As Cara faced Lance, she ticked off an imaginary list.  “As never have you sailed without me, since our marriage, and you will not start now.”

“Are you sure?” Lance inquired, as he furrowed his brow.  “Would you not prefer to stay in London, with my heir?”

“I am positive, my hero.”  Cara winked.  “And you just try to cast off without me.”

“Jennings is fetching Everett’s rig, and he asked me to convey his excuses.”  Lady Amanda strolled to the admiral’s side.  “Sabrina is hysterical, and never have I seen her so upset.”

As the family expressed consternation and misgivings, Blake leaned toward Lenore and whispered, “You need not fret, my dear.  Logan’s men will continue the hunt for Lucilla, in my absence.”

“While I remain concerned for Lucy, as of this moment, I am more worried about you and your safety.”  Overwhelming emotions twisted and turned Lenore’s insides, and she fought to preserve her composure.  “You go to war, and I have already lost one man near and dear to my heart.  I will not lose you, too.”  Then she studied his beautiful mouth and met his heated stare.  “I desperately want to be alone with you.”

“And I you.”  With his thumb, he drew circles on her palm, and gooseflesh shivered over her.  “Daresay this will be an early evening, as no one is in a mood to celebrate.”

“Can we retire to our new chamber?”  Lenore inched closer.  “If you leave in four days, I would not waste a second of it, and I would be yours, in every way.”

“Trust me, we are on the same page.”  A charming red hue spread from his neck, and he flexed his jaw.  “But we shall sleep in your room, tonight, and tomorrow we move into ours.”

“Tonight or tomorrow, what is the difference, as long as you are with me?”  Impatient and more than a tad scared, she decided to wear the sheer nightgown she purchased in honor of the consummation, but she would not postpone what she desired, because of a mere formality.  “I would have you now, Your Grace.”

“Not until the vows are spoken, and you are mine.  Only then will I take you.”  Blake adjusted his cravat and rose.  “But let us delay the conversation, as our guests appear to have lost their appetite.”

“Dirk, I wish to go home.”  Rebecca flicked her fingers, and her spouse responded.

“Blake, I would thank you for the lovely evening, but instead I shall simply say the meal was delicious.”  Dirk grinned.  “And I must away, as my viscountess beckons, and I suspect your lady does the same.”

“You know it.”  Arm in arm, Blake steered Lenore for the door, and as the host and hostess, a position she prepared to assume in total, they bade farewell to the family.  As soon as the last relation climbed into their rig, Blake brought her to face him.  “I have business to complete before I retire, and then I shall join you in your chamber.”

“By your leave, Your Grace.”  She pressed on him a kiss filled with promises she intended to keep.  With a giggle of nervous anticipation, she sprinted upstairs.  As she scampered down the hall, she paused at the portal to Lucy’s quarters.  Placing her hand on the knob, the cool metal soothed her damp palm, and Lenore closed her eyes.  “Little sister, I know you are out there, somewhere.  Never fear, as I shall not forget you, and Blake will rescue you, as he rescued me.”  For a few minutes, she uttered silent pleas, hoping to reach through the bounds of brick and mortar to touch Lucy.  “Be strong, as I will remain vigilant, and we will meet again.”

With that, Lenore rushed into her apartment.  Opting to forgo Dorothea’s assistance, Lenore wrenched and tugged at her laces, until she could shed her gown.  After hanging the heavy green velvet garb on a peg, she opened her armoire and selected the diaphanous ivory silk creation, trimmed in feathers, with a matching nightgown, which functioned more as an afterthought than an actual garment.  If that failed to inspire her sea captain, nothing would.

Clad only in her chemise, she sat at her vanity and removed the pins from her coif.  Grasping a silver-backed brush, she smoothed her locks into a cascade about her shoulders.  She studied the effect in the oval mirror and smiled.  “Deny me, tonight, Your Grace.”

In minutes, she exchanged the slip for the translucent apparel but opted to forgo the robe.  And then she paced.  The mantel clock in the sitting room signaled the midnight hour, and just as she pondered pursuing her man, he appeared.

“Sorry to keep you, my dear, but—what in God’s name are you wearing?”  He held a hand over his eyes, shielding his gaze.  “Lenore, for the love of creation, put on something less tempting, as I am a man, not a eunuch.”

“No.”  Without fear or hesitation, she walked straight to her knight, wound her arms about his neck, and kissed him.  To her relief, Blake erupted.

Thrusting her against the wall, he ground his hips to her, as his tongue delved deeper into her mouth, and she held on for the ride.  Desire blossomed and spread, filling her senses and fueling her hunger.  Operating on instinct, she charged, and he stumbled backwards until he fell onto the bed.  Adapting to their new and far more interesting position, she crawled over him and started when he inched beneath her night rail to caress her bare bottom.  And then everything came to an abrupt halt.

“
Bloody hell
.”  Blake tossed her aside and leaped from the mattress.  “What are you doing?  Have you lost your mind?”

“No, but I am trying to lose something, if only you would cooperate.  I expected for a rake of your caliber, my purpose was obvious.”  She patted the spot beside her.  “Will you not join me?”

“I believe you have recovered enough to sleep alone.”  He rested fists to hips.  “And I should return to my own chambers, if I have any hope of retaining my sanity.”

“Oh, Blake, I beg you, do not leave me.”  Crushed by his rejection, she wrestled with tears.  “But I thought you wanted me.  Please, stay, as I cannot bear to be parted from you any more than necessary, and you depart in four short days.”

“Which is why we shall wed in the morning, after we break our fast.”  He frowned, as he relented and slid between the covers.  “And you need to rest, as I can promise you will get none tomorrow night.”

#

Blake’s wedding day dawned with a mighty tempest, and amid the flash of lightening and the rumble of thunder, he gathered with his family in the drawing room.  To his right, Damian served as best man, and to Lenore’s left, Caroline fidgeted.  On short notice, the vicar from St. George’s at Hanover Square performed the brief but monumental sacrament.

Gowned in the aqua trimmed in silver, which she wore on Christmas day, Lenore held Blake’s hands and pledged, “My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

When it was his turn, he took the same oath, as his bride cried happy tears and smiled.  Then he pulled her into his arms and claimed his first kiss as her husband.  For him, it was a simple expression invested with promise and the hope for a long and prosperous future.  Yet an empty space remained, to cast a shadow over the otherwise joyous event, which only called attention to Lucilla’s absence.

“My cherished family, let us raise our glasses.”  Damian held high his crystal flute.  “I have known Blake all my life, and in that span of time we have shared more than one adventure and countless catastrophes.  We have fought, side by side, against the French, we have competed for various questionable conquests, as have most rakes of our set, we have celebrated our auspicious fortunes, we have mourned our sorrows, and we have evaded the parson’s noose—until now.”  He chuckled, as did the others in attendance.  “But even the mighty must fall, and, oh, has he fallen.  It is to our benefit that his duchess is a very fine lady.  So we welcome Her Grace into the fold, and to His Grace, we wish many strong sons, as we toast the happy couple.”

Blushing, Lenore buried her face in his chest, and he cupped her chin and pressed his lips to hers.  When she met his stare, he spied the melancholy she tried so hard to hide.  “You are thinking of Lucilla.”

“I wish she was here.”  She gave vent to something between a sob and a sigh, as he held her close and cradled her head.  “Never did I imagine this day without my sister.”

“I know, darling.”  What he would give to spare her the anguish, but they had no new information regarding Lucy’s whereabouts, yet Sir Ross remained on the hunt.  “We will find her.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but what will have happened to her, in the meantime?”  With his thumbs, he daubed the streams of wetness from the apples of her cheeks.  “Oh, Blake, I suffer the worst imaginings.”

“Not on our wedding day, sweetheart.”  He turned her in his embrace and wrapped an arm about her waist.  “I understand your trepidation, and I am doing everything I can to recover her, but if only for this moment, let it go and enjoy this milestone in our combined history.”

“We are truly family.”  Caroline bounced and gave Lenore a quick peck.  “And I am here for you, always.”

“It will be all right, just wait and see.”  After glaring at her father, Sabrina approached, with Everett in tow, chucked Lenore’s shoulder, and brightened.  “Lucy is made of stern stuff, and she will survive.”

“Ignore my brother’s teasing, as he fancies himself a wit.”  Alex laughed and then gazed at Jason.  “We wish you the same contentment in your union as ours has brought us.”

“What a lovely ceremony.”  Tugging Lance in her wake, Cara clutched Lenore’s wrist.  “And may you savor many years in solicitous comfort, as my hero brings me.  Lean on Blake, and he will give you strength.”

“I am thrilled for you, Lenore.”  Elaine neared, sandwiched between George and Lucien.  “Dalton and Daphne would be so thrilled, if they had time to travel to the city, but we all look forward to numerous duets with you and Daphne.”

“Fret not, as Sir Ross is the best at what he does.”  Rebecca offered her sage counsel, which Blake hoped his duchess heeded.  “And after that much prayed for day, when Lucy has recuperated, we shall throw a gala such as London has never seen.”

Later, Blake stood with pride, as the Brethren knelt before his wife and vowed a lifetime of loyalty, which had become the custom to honor each new bride, since Dirk wed Rebecca.  As was the case at Christmas, Blake thought of his father and lamented his absence.

“Lunch is served.”  Jennings bowed.

Caroline winked and blew him a kiss, and Lenore made to follow, but he held her firm.  “That is not for us, my dear.”

“Oh?”  She peered at him and bit her bottom lip.  “But I am starved, as I was too nervous to eat breakfast.”

“And so we shall share a private meal for two, in our suite.”  Planting her palm in the crook of his elbow, Blake led her into the foyer and up the grand staircase.  In the gallery, he glanced left and then right at his ancestors and grinned in insouciant acknowledgment.  But the stroll down the hall, to their wing, seemed never-ending.  “Here we are, our own little paradise.”

“But it is not so little.”  Lenore avoided his gaze, and nervous laughter bubbled from her throat.  In the sitting room, she paused at the round table he ordered for their special affair and lifted a cover from an oval dish.  “There is roasted chicken, Bath buns, black butter, salamongundy, and mashed potatoes with gravy.”

“Shall I carve the chicken, Your Grace?”  He pulled out her chair.  “And may I pour you some coconut rum?”

“Are you waiting on me, Your Grace?”  She giggled, and he cherished the lilting melody of her gaiety.  “Because that would be a change, and you know, very well, I am partial to the flavored rum.”

“My sweet wife, on this blessed night, you have my unreserved attention, and I chose the beverage expressly for you.”  At some point during the previous evening, as he drifted off to the gentle drumbeat of her heart, he decided the consummation should be focused on her needs, as he did not even have to try to enjoy himself.  Regardless of what she did, he would gain his pleasure.  So everything he prepared was with the singular intent of keeping a smile on her lovely face.  “Given such privileges will be a rarity in the future, you should savor it while it lasts.”