The Rogue and I (14 page)

Moaning, she pulled back, then slid down his body till her face was just a pale oval by his hip. Her mouth slid over his hip bone, teasing then gently nibbling.

Oh God, in his wildest dreams only had he allowed himself to imagine her doing what he hoped she was about to do. But he lay still, letting her please herself with his body.

She paused at his cock, her gaze intent upon the hard length stretching up towards his stomach. Just the very act of her looking so intently upon him, hardened him to near pain. Then a small smile tilted her lips right before she lowered her mouth to the tip.

Her tongue swept over him and he growled, his hips lifting off the bed. She looked up at him, sheer pleasure at the power she had over him brightening her features. She gripped his waist with her hands, then went back to kissing him. She took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling over him. Every last bit of reason seemed to race away from his brain and head south to where she was driving him mad.

He didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold on if she kept on thus. Finally, she lifted her mouth, the smile gone, a look of hunger tightening her face.

Wordlessly, she raised herself up on her knees and took his cock in her hand. He watched, captivated by her determination. Her fingers held him firmly as she rubbed his head against her slick folds.

Her head dropped back, lifting her breasts.

Garret let out a hiss of painful pleasure. “Ride me. Now.”

At his command, she positioned herself and in one slow movement, she lowered herself till he filled her to the hilt.

A groan rippled from her lips.

Garret fisted his hands, he yanked at the black silk and it tore allowing him the freedom he longed for.

He placed his hands on her hips, massaging the supple flesh as she began to ride him, finding her own rhythm. She rocked against his body, each stroke driving him mad. Even the sight of her, breasts swaying slightly, her eyes half closed with desire were enough to send him to the edge.

She placed her hands on his chest, gaining leverage so she could rock faster.

Garret cupped one of her breasts, teasing the nipple.

As she worked faster, he placed his thumb over her clitoris and pressed gently, circling.

A cry rippled from her throat and she arched back.

As her body tightened around his, he groaned. It was all he could do not to grab her hips and pump wildly. But he did grab her to him and pull her into his embrace as he pumped in one last hard thrust.

It shook him to his toes. Not a single thought entered his brain as white hot pleasure overtook him.

“Mine,” he whispered. “You are mine.”

This time, he knew it was true.

Chapter 15

Edward lifted the brandy to his lips but laughed before he could take a drink. “I’m getting married.”

“Yes. Yes, indeed you are, my lad.”

Edward clapped James on the shoulder. “Whatever shall you do without me?”

“I shall be relieved to get you off my hands,” James said lightly. “My God, you’ve been making me old before my time.”

“Ha! It’s Garret that does that.”

James offered his glass and Edward chinked his against his older brother’s in salute. They drank in front of the fire, spending the last few hours of his freedom in a quiet sitting room.

“I wish Garret were here now,” Edward said.

“Be glad he’s not. He’d probably have tossed you to a bevy of dairy maids and urged them to help you change your mind about the whole wedding business.”

“You know,” Edward smiled ruefully. “I don’t think he would. Not after what we did to him today.”

James let out a contented sigh. “It was beautiful wasn’t it?”

Edward let out a booming laugh. “When he jumped into the fountain—”

The door swung open sharply and John strode in.

James’ merry expression faded at the sight of the most troublesome brother. “Yes?”

John stopped, his face as dark as a Sunday rector preaching hell and fire.

Edward lifted his glass, feeling generous. He didn’t really want John’s company but if not on the eve before his wedding, then when could he be kind? “Have a drink with us. We must celebrate my wedding.”

“That is exactly why I’m here,” John said tightly.

“You don’t look like you long to celebrate,” James replied, tensing.

“More like you’re off to a funeral, old boy,” Edward crossed to John and placed his arm around his brother’s strong shoulder. He really did dislike the bounder, but perhaps he truly was just sowing his wild oats before he settled down.

“It feels like a funeral,” John bit out.

Edward frowned. “I beg your pardon.”

“I am not here to offer you felicitations but to keep you from making a drastic mistake,” John burst out. “One you will regret all your days.”

“My, he sounds like Garret,” Edward said lightly, though suddenly all his joviality abandoned him under John’s hard, blue stare.

“I do not jest,” John said. “Do you know where your bride is? If you don’t, I do.”

Edward took a step back and placed his glass on the fireplace mantel. “In bed, I should think. Where she belongs.”

“And she is,” John agreed, but there was a darkness to his tone.

“So, what is all this?” James asked impatiently.

“It is not where she is that is so important. It is
who
she is with.”

“What in God’s name are you implying?” Edward ground out.

“We must make haste.” John opened the door and stepped aside, waiting for them.

“Make haste to what?” James demanded.

“To his betrothed’s chamber,” John replied. “Where she is not alone.”

“I don’t believe you.” Edward knew he sounded like a scared child with his silly challenge. What else was there to say?

“You do not need to believe me, but only come with me to see the truth of what I say.”

“James?” Edward asked, wishing he knew exactly what to do.

“John.” James grabbed their brother’s shoulder. “That is a very serious charge.”

“I know it is and I would not make it unless I could prove it true. The longer we tarry the less chance there shall be of catching her with Lord Conrade.”

“Lord
Conrade.
” The name blazed through Edward’s brain. Before he knew what he was doing, he charged out into the hall.

“Wait!” John hissed. “We must be quiet or we shall alert them.”

James hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“Please come with me,” Edward pleaded. This was not something he could face on his own.

James nodded sharply.

The three of them went through the halls, their footfalls as silent as they could make them. Edward found himself holding his breath, his hands flexing and unflexing. She couldn’t. He should know that she couldn’t. Yet some sick need pushed him with every step to her rooms, to see if John spoke the truth.

At last they came to her apartments. John cracked the door open and made his way easily in the dark to the inner room.

A light flickered from the doorway. It was open ever so slightly. Moans and sighs were coming from the other side.

Vomit threatened Edward’s throat. It couldn’t be happening. Not his Emmaline.

John peered in through the slightly open door then pulled back. He nodded slightly then gestured for James to look. James’ rigid frame was even more rigid than usual, like a magistrate afraid he would be passing sentence on a man with six children to feed. He looked through the crack.

Slowly, he turned to face Edward. The disgust tensing his features couldn’t be mistaken. He crossed quietly to his brother and whispered. “Look, but do nothing. Not yet.”

The room swung around him. If he took a step forward, he was sure the floor would give way beneath him, but he stepped forward anyway.

The cries of lust were coming louder, faster.

Edward closed his eyes for a moment, then he forced himself to look through the narrow slit between the door and the frame. There on the bed was Emmaline, her long, beautiful, blonde hair trailing over her shoulders and her white sheets.

Her face was down, buried in a pillow as she choked on cries of pleasure. Lord Conrade was behind her, his hands on her hips. Completely naked, he pounded into her, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. He rode her hard and fast, as if she was used to such treatment.

Her own fingers wound into the sheets as she shuddered beneath him.

It was all he could do not to slam the door open and tear Lord Conrade off her. He would kill him and then her. He would strangle them both. With the rage pumping through his body at this moment, he knew he could do it. It would be as easy as breaking birds’ necks.

John’s hand slipped onto Edward’s arm and tugged him carefully. “We must go,” he mouthed.

Edward nodded, a daze seizing him.

He staggered from the room, still somehow he managed to move with stealth. He wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up back in the drawing room with John and James. All he could feel or think or see was Lord Conrade fucking the woman he was sure would be his beloved wife.

Edward lowered himself into a chair and placed his head in his hands. “How could she do this?” he whispered.

Neither of his brothers answered. There was no answer. It was as simple as that. His angel was no better than a whore. Edward swallowed back as his throat threatened to close with tears. “I want— I want her to suffer. I want revenge,” he whispered hoarsely at last.

God. . . How could Emmaline hurt them like this? How could he have been such a fool?

James crouched down beside him, a brimming glass of brandy in his hand. “And you shall have it, brother.”

*     *      *

H
arriet held on to Garret as if he might suddenly disappear like some cruel dream that offered one heaven then stole it away. In the dark of the night, it seemed like there was nothing but the two of them and this feeling of completeness.

She pressed a kiss to his chest and his arms tightened around her.

“Harry, let’s get married tomorrow.”

Her heart leapt at his eagerness to be with her forever. “We cannot, you silly man.”

“Whyever not?”

She lifted herself up, resting on her elbow so she could gaze down on the face she loved so well. “No license, of course.”

“Ah.”

She nodded knowingly then lightly kissed his lips. “I wish we could,” she murmured against him.

He wove a hand into her hair and deepened their kiss. Pulling her back ever so slightly, he broke the kiss. “What if we just made vows before the vicar? Wouldn’t that do, until we could sign a damn piece of paper?”

A smile pulled at her lips. She couldn’t believe how quickly her world had changed. “Yes. We can make our intentions known to the world.”

“Good.” He caressed his hand down her naked back. “Tomorrow, everyone will know you’re to be my lady wife.” He gazed up at her, his eyes full of wonder. “In truth, I think you’ve always been my wife.”

Tears stung Harry’s eyes. They’d both suffered so much and so long in their separation. “Tomorrow then. Tomorrow we shall finally be happy.”

“I’m happy now, love.”

“As am I.” This time it would last. Happiness couldn’t be ripped from them twice. Not even the gods would be that cruel.

Chapter 16

Harriet preened in front of the mirror. She couldn’t help herself. She felt absolutely beautiful. Despite a sleepless night, she’d never felt more refreshed or more excited for a forthcoming day.

“Pardon me, cousin, but it is my wedding day,” teased Emmaline.

Harry laughed and turned. “So it is and I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride.”

It was true. Emmaline was perfect in white silk and lace. Delicate seed pearls dotted her bodice and white roses had been woven into her long, blonde hair.

Harriet frowned. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Emmaline had the faintest shadows under her eyes.

“I spent the night out with mama.”

Harriet stilled then took her cousin’s hands in hers. “I miss my mother too.”

Emmaline nodded, tears misting her eyes. “I wish our mothers were here today.”

There was nothing Harriet could say to soften the moment. So, instead, she hugged Emmaline, gently, careful not to crush her gown.

After a long moment, she leaned back. “Shall we go?”

Emmaline nodded then frowned. “Where’s Meredith?”

As if on cue, Meredith burst through the door, her hair barely coiled upon her head and her gown slightly askew.

“Whatever have you been doing?” Harriet asked.

“Getting ready, of course,” Meredith replied brightly.

Harry arched a brow. “Well you look like you’ve been running through hedges.”

“I slept over late and got dressed in a bit of a rush.”

“Meredith,” Emmaline tsked, smiling, “You are very naughty.”

Meredith gave a saucy grin. “You have no idea.”

In fact, Meredith looked very much like the cat that had the cream. It was very tempting to take her aside and ask what she could be so pleased about, but there was no time.

The chapel was no doubt packed already and if they waited any longer, the groom would begin to get nervous.

Harriet smiled to herself. Perhaps Garret might become a trifle nervous too. Though after last night, she didn’t know how he could ever doubt her love.

They walked quickly, full of excitement, down the hall then to the wide sweeping stair which led to the massive foyer.

Her uncle was waiting for Emmaline. A look of pride beamed on his face as she descended the steps in her beautiful gown.

He carefully took her by the arm then led her out to the gravel drive.

Harriet followed closely behind as they took the path to the chapel.

Her own heart was remarkably light. She’d not been a fan of weddings. Not for years. Not after standing in the rain waiting for a groom that never did show.

Now, she was more than happy to change her opinion.

And as they approached the small, stone parsonage, she grinned. No one deserved happiness more than Emmaline and a perfect wedding.

As soon as they entered, the organ began to play and they all took their time walking through the church, through the nave and up to the altar.