Truth Within Dreams (9 page)

Her mouth went dry. “Wh-what?”

“So you can enjoy the grass between your toes,” he clarified. “Take off your stockings.”

Awkwardly, she turned her back to him and did so. Her face flamed as though fevered. There was something decisive about this moment, she recognized. Her stomach trembled with nerves—or was it anticipation?

When she turned back to him, he glanced at her feet and the flash of exposed ankles. “Now for my forfeit.”

“Was that kiss not the prize?”

One side of his mouth drew up in a lazy smile. “That was not a kiss. I trust I made a better account of myself than that two nights ago.”

How was she to respond?

After a beat, Henry dragged the top of a fingernail down one of her feet. Claudia’s toes curled. “Your bare feet are going to waste on my coat. You’ve come this far, Claudia. Take your pleasure.”

His voice was an invitation to sin. She watched, mesmerized, as he took her ankles, parted them, and guided her feet into the grass on either side of his own knees. Henry’s thumbs traced circles on her ankles while his palms cupped the base of her calves. The cool blades tickled her arches, in contrast with his warm touch. “How does that feel?” he asked. “Good?”

She made some inarticulate sound of agreement.

“Your fingers should have the same experience.” Henry leaned forward between her thighs and planted his hands atop hers, beside her hips. Thick, square-tipped fingers captured her own. His face occupied the space beside her neck, his breath a warm breeze in her ear. Her heart hammered in her ears. Smoothly, Henry parted his arms, sending Claudia’s palms in a slow, sensual slide over the silk lining of his coat and out into the grass.

As her arms spread wider, Claudia tilted back and Henry followed, maintaining a small space between their bodies. He stopped their movement, leaving her back hovering above the ground. Claudia’s stomach trembled, both from the exertion of sustaining her position, and from the pleasurable ache elicited by Henry’s sensual play.

Not once did Henry’s eyes leave hers. Heat built in his green gaze in time with Claudia’s own mounting desire. Though they’d moved only inches, Henry’s lips parted and he panted lightly. Clearly, he was as affected by this strange almost-embrace as Claudia. Holding this posture compounded the erotic tension between them, until Claudia thought she’d fracture if something did not happen.

“Henry,” she whispered. “Please.” She stretched her neck, bringing her trembling lips to his jaw. She felt like a supplicant, humbly beseeching with her kiss.

As though he knew just what she needed, Henry released her hands, moving his own to the back of her head and the small of her back. The sudden release of physical pressure was luxurious; she gladly relaxed into his hands. His lips, dry and warm, touched her chin, her cheek, and then paused, lingeringly, on her lips. Little jolts of pleasure darted through her, but her sense of need only increased.

“You’re too bound up,” he murmured against her mouth. “All neat and prim.” His tongue darted out to touch the corner of her lips. “My Claudia should be free and rumpled.”

The proprietary tone of his words thrilled her.
His
Claudia. She hummed low in her throat.

He began plucking out her hair pins, eventually leaving only the braids intact, the rest tumbling free down her back.

“Yes,” Henry growled, “this is how I like you.” His fingers plunged into her hair and twined around the light brown tresses as he drew her close. Claudia clung to his shoulders, the firm muscles there tense beneath her fingers. Henry’s mouth worked over hers, thoroughly exploring every part. She thrilled at his masculine possession, his moan of satisfaction rumbling deep inside her own chest. Abruptly, he pushed her away. “Now then …”

Claudia fell onto her back with a little “Oof!” Her hands flopped to the ground beside her head. The backs pressed into the cool grass, while her hair tickled her palms.

Henry drew her skirts up around her thighs. Kneeling between her legs, he reached down to start unfastening the buttons and hooks on the front of her riding habit.

The feeling of fresh air hitting her heated flesh brought Claudia back to earth. “Wait,” she protested. “We mustn’t.”

Henry’s fingers never slowed in their work, methodically peeling her clothes away. “Why not?” he said. “We’ve already been together, and we’ll soon be married. It’s all settled.” He ran his hands over her ribs. “Stays? Damnation, you really are trussed. Sit up.”

Being quickly pulled upright made Claudia dizzy; she couldn’t think clearly. “Nothing is settled! I said I wouldn’t marry you.” It was no use pretending Henry was only a friend any longer, but she wasn’t sure how, exactly, he now fit in her life. And he made it impossible to think straight. His hands seemed everywhere at once, handling her like an overgrown rag doll while he undressed her. Nor did it help when she realized she was pawing at him just as eagerly as he was at her.

He glanced up at her from beneath his lashes, a sly smile pulling his lips to one side. The impish expression was like a caress between her legs. “We’ll see about that. Sir John gave his permission for me to court you. In any event, you aren’t marrying Tuggle. I’ve taken care of it, just as I promised I would.”

“Just as you …” A faint memory surfaced, a fragment of her drug-induced dreams. She was kissing Henry. He asked her something about Sir Saint, and then—“You were there,” she breathed. “Last night. In my room.”

“Naturally. Arms up.” Pulling her skirts and chemise from under her bottom, Henry divested Claudia of the last of her clothes.

Henry sat back on his heels, admiring his handiwork. For a long time, he studied her, until Claudia became uncomfortable with his scrutiny and reached to cover herself. “Why were you in my room?”

He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t hide from me, Claudia. I came to your room because I needed to see you.” He guided her hand to the front of his breeches. “This is what you do to me.” Her fingers closed around his hard length. Henry groaned and arched into her hand. “You’re so bloody gorgeous, Claudia. Just looking at you makes me wild.”

The things he said, the things he was doing—it was all overwhelming. How could this be? Could Henry’s feelings for her have changed in just the last couple of days?

The raw hunger in his expression went a ways towards calming her nerves. None of her confusion mattered at a moment like this. However it had happened, this was real. Henry wanted her, as she’d always dreamed.

He released her hand and, slowly, she explored him through his clothes. When she pulled toward the top of his shaft, he hissed. When she drew toward the root, he moaned, his erection twitching against her palm. His eyelids fell to half mast. Claudia thrilled at his reactions to her touch.

His fingers drifted over her collarbones and down her shoulders. Pleasure danced over her skin. “That feels so good,” she murmured. “Like my mind is in a warm bath.” She wanted Henry to experience all these lovely feelings, so she tugged at the buttons on his fall.

“Not yet,” he said, gently removing her questing hands. Henry laid her back. Sweet, earthy smells of grass and soil filled the air.

Henry braced himself over her on his forearms. “About last night.” He kissed her lips, then nudged her chin with his nose, tilting her head, giving him access to her neck. His lips scorched her skin, but a gentle breeze cooled the little damp marks. “I needed to make sure you were all right, Claudia.”

The aching sweetness of his words almost distracted her from the way his thigh was nudging between her legs, insinuating itself against her aching flesh.

“Of course I’m all right,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I—Oh!” His leg pressed harder against her mound. Claudia canted her hips to rock against him.

Without preamble, Henry’s tongue plunged into her mouth. He kissed her fiercely, nipping her lips and sucking her tongue into his own mouth. Below, his hips undulated in a primal, driving rhythm. She planted her feet and arched, craving more contact.

“I must confess something.” He licked his way down her neck. “I can’t remember our first time. I was sleepwalking.” That wicked tongue flicked a nipple, and then he blew on it, causing it to pebble. “Remind me about it, Claudia. Tell me how we made love.”

Her breath froze in her throat; her eyes flew wide. “Oh, God,” she whispered as the terrible truth dawned on her. He thought it was all real. The blood, the visit from the surgeon.

“Was it good?” he murmured against her breast. “I must’ve spent an age right here. I’ve wanted to get my hands on these for years. God, they’re perfect.” His mouth latched onto one nipple while the pad of his thumb brushed over the other.

“Henry, wait,” she said, but her voice was weak and unconvincing.

“I fear I did not spend enough time readying you,” he said when he lifted his head from her breast. His hand came between her legs and cupped her. “I'd never been with a virgin before. If I’d done my business properly, there wouldn’t have been so much blood.”

Strong fingers parted her folds and stroked her core. With the fresh air swirling about, Claudia could tell just how wet she’d grown there. What on earth? She cried out and tried to close her legs while her face flooded with the heat of embarrassment.

“You’re still so innocent,” he said. “This is a good thing, sweet. Feel how ready you are for me.” One finger dipped inside. Henry spread the moisture up and around her tiny nubbin. Pleasure speared deep into her womb. Whatever he was doing was marvelous. “Your body wants me.” His voice dropped a register and rumbled seductively against her throat. “Doesn’t it, Claudia? Don’t you want me?”

“Yes,” she cried. A sob tore from her chest as he fondled her. A second finger plunged in alongside the first. She lifted to meet his hand. “More. Please, Henry, more.”

He chuckled and positioned himself between her thighs. He rubbed against her. The friction was divine. “You want me now, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” She scrabbled at his shirt, the waist of his breeches, anywhere she could reach.

“Should I bury my cock in you again?”

“Yes—yes!”

“Turn over,” he whispered.

Feeling as though she might shatter into a thousand pieces, Claudia flipped onto her stomach. Henry groaned. He palmed her buttocks and lightly bit her hip. “Henry, please!”

He lay a hand on her thigh. “Shh, be still.” Something cold and hard touched her lower back. “I have to get something from the saddlebag. Don’t move.”

Her head was turned away, and so she followed him by sound. What was he retrieving? Was she really about to lose her virginity here, on the riverbank?

Now that she had a moment to consider the matter, Claudia decided that yes, she really was going to do this. She loved Henry. She’d always loved him. She wanted to share this experience with him.

She smiled a private smile and enjoyed the play of the breeze over her skin. It felt like silk.

The small thing was still on her back. What was it? And what was taking Henry so long?

Just then, she heard the soft, heavy thuds of hooves in motion. Eight of them.

Claudia lifted her head just in time to see Henry De Vere leaving on his horse, with Coco tied to his saddle and placidly following.

She shrieked and shot up. The thing on her back tumbled to the ground. As she lunged for her clothes and cursed Henry with every foul epithet she knew, Claudia glanced at the fallen object.

The bottle.

That wretched little vessel of deceit.

Claudia snatched it up and sprinted after Henry. It was no good. He’d set the horses to a trot, and they were already too far away for her to catch up. Just before they vanished around a bend, the light caught Henry sitting tall in his saddle. His golden hair and linen shirtsleeves gleamed, putting her in mind of some heroic white knight, a latter-day Galahad, if Galahad were the sort to debauch maidens and abandon them before coming to the point.

She pulled back her arm and hurled the bottle. “Henry DeVere, come back here!” she shouted. “You spineless, shameless, sotted, pig of a man! I’ll never forgive you! I’ll cut all your boots to ribbons! I’ll put nettles in your bed! I’ll … I’ll tell your mother what you’ve done!”

If he heard her litany of threats, he gave no indication. Soon, Claudia was alone, with only the burbling Avon for company. Her entire body felt agitated. Tears stemming from a frustration that went beyond his cruel abandonment coursed unchecked down her face.

A brisk reminder from the wind drew notice to the fact that she was entirely unclothed. And standing in the wide open, beneath God’s own sky, where any passerby could spot her.

Trembling, Claudia returned to the willow. She sat on Henry’s coat, pulled her knees against her chest, put her head down, and indulged in a moment of self-pity. Her private area was swollen, still pulsing for a lover no longer there. The pressure of her legs against her nipples sent needy darts of sensation through her body. So welcome only a few minutes ago, Claudia now tried to force her body’s responses into quietude.

With a loud sniff, she scrubbed the heels of her hands across her cheeks. Then she dressed, taking great care to return each garment to a state of neat arrangement. Without the help of her maid, there was nothing to be done about her hair. She combed fingers through it, then pinned her hat in place.

What to do with Henry’s coat? Even in the throes of bitter turmoil, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the stylish cutaway on the ground for the foxes to make merry with. Having grown up wearing someone else’s castoffs, Claudia was only too aware of the value of quality attire. Henry might have walked away from his coat without a backward glance, but it would bring a world of joy to a deserving young man in the village. The vicar might know a worthy recipient.

So Claudia gathered the coat and the tattered remains of her pride, and began the long walk home.

She stared at the ground while she cut through a field to reach the road that would bring her to Rudley Court. On her way, she relived every moment of Henry’s seduction and desertion, feeling again the flush of excitement and the horrible sting of betrayal.