Page 47 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)

One name that raised Arend’s suspicions was the Earl of Northumberland, Lady Isobel’s father. “There has to be a reason Isobel was in that carriage.”

“I know for a fact Isobel’s mother is dead. She died when Isobel was a young girl,” Serena stated.

“He remarried.” All eyes turned to Marisa. “Isobel told me she was lured out in her stepmother’s name.”

Everyone started talking at once. The chatter halted when Arend clapped his hands and said, “I suggest we put the earl at the top of our list. I shall personally investigate the Countess of Northumberland.”

The way he spoke sent shivers over Marisa’s soul. He was cold, hard, and dangerously sinister; she would hate Arend ever coming after her. “Isobel is not to be hurt. She is as innocent as I.”

Arend turned on her. “And you know that how? She doesn’t appear to be a simpering lass or a stupid one. For all we know she is the villain or is in on her stepmother’s plan. Why else was she in the carriage?”

“It can’t be Isobel; I’ve known her most of her life. Her stepmother I’m not sure about. Perhaps it is not Isobel’s stepmother and Isobel was planted in the carriage to raise our suspicions and send us digging in the wrong direction.” Portia’s quietly spoken words held some truth.

“Whatever we do, we have to do it carefully. If she realizes we are close to unmasking her, she might leave. Or worse, step up her attack. A cornered snake strikes in panic. I don’t want anyone else hurt.” Maitland looked directly at her as he said the last sentence.

She looked away, tears no longer kept at bay.

Portia, who was sitting next to her on the settee, squeezed her arm and said, “We will promise to be careful. I’m sure the ladies will agree that none of us will venture out on our own.

” She looked at her husband. “We will follow your directions to the letter.”

By three in the morning, they felt quite pleased. They had managed to whittle the list down to sixty-seven names, a very manageable list. The men divided up the names and each got allocated ten to twelve earls to investigate.

They were also stepping up security at their houses, and the ladies agreed to never go out alone, and only with plenty of guards.

Marisa was tired as she made her way up the stairs to bed. Maitland was seeing the last of their guests out. She could hear a stern conversation with Arend. All she wanted to do was sleep. Today’s events, and tonight’s dinner, had left her both physically and emotionally exhausted.

The house was unusually quiet. Priscilla must have sent the staff to bed. She’d retired about an hour ago.

Marisa made it to the second-floor landing and had turned to look back to see if Maitland was coming, when a rush of air alerted her to someone behind her.

She turned, and that is what saved her life. A masked man shoved her hard, and if she hadn’t been able to grab on to the picture rail she would have plummeted over the banister to the ground floor two stories below.

A piercing scream left her lips, because, to her horror, the man was now trying to drag her toward the banister. He was trying to push her over.

She fought back, but it was difficult to kick with her gown dangling around her legs. Instead, she tried to sit down, but then she had nothing but polished floorboards to grip. She kicked out with her legs; she could hear Maitland racing up the stairs.

“Don’t fight me. You know it’s the only way. You should be prepared to sacrifice yourself for Maitland.”

The woman—her voice indicated it was a woman—grabbed her by her hair, and she had no option but to rise to her feet or be scalped.

Her attacker had her halfway over the banister when someone pulled her off.

She saw Clarence fighting and the next minute, as if in slow motion, Clarence’s fist connected with the woman’s masked face, and she fell backward over the banister.

A woman’s scream rented the air and only stopped with a deadened thud.

Silence reigned until Clarence asked, “Are you all right?” He gently helped her to her feet just as Maitland arrived. She was immediately engulfed in two strong arms. She couldn’t tell who was shaking more, Maitland or her.

Seeing that she was fine, he swore. “What the hell happened?”

“Priscilla attacked me.” The two men looked at her as if she’d gone mad. Clarence looked at Maitland and dashed back down the stairs to check.

“You’re distraught. It was a man.”

She shook her head at Maitland. “No. She needed me dead.”

He helped her to a nearby chair. “Why on earth would she want you dead?”

“She didn’t think it fair that she had to sacrifice her happiness if I didn’t.”

“You’re overwrought and not making sense.”

“I’m damaged too. You needed to be free to marry again and have children.

I was supposed to sacrifice everything for you.

Did you know that she forced your father to marry her?

She did that because she knew you’d try to be honorable and marry her even when she had been exposed to syphilis.

If you married her, there could never be children.

” Marisa’s eyes filled with tears. “She understood how important an heir was to you. As do I.”

Maitland was on his knees in front of her. He lifted her chin with his hand so she had to look him in the eye.

“We never know what life is going to throw at us. The day I compromised you, you thought yourself in love with Rutherford. Do you still love him?”

“No,” she said adamantly. “You know I love you.”

“So what you wanted, what you felt, who you loved, changed.” She pulled a funny face, knowing where he was going with this.

“I may have started our relationship looking for a wife who could give me an heir. I might even have agreed to marry you partly because I needed a son, but our marriage has grown to encompass so much more.”

A tear began to trickle down her cheek.

“However, a wise man once told me everything changes in a man except his heartbeat.”

“Who said that?”

“Your brother, when he fell in love with Beatrice.”

He took her tiny hand and fervently pressed his lips to her palm. “I have the courage to believe in your love for me; please have the courage to believe in my love for you.”

She was chewing her bottom lip.

He pressed his point. “Does it hurt to know we cannot have children? Of course it does. It hurts like the devil, but I— we —will survive it. We are strong when we are together. What I wouldn’t survive is losing you. ”

She tried to speak, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

“I know this to be true, because I’ve almost lost you twice now. Christ, these past months you’ve aged me at least ten years.”

Her lips turned up in a small smile.

“We will have a wonderful life together, you and I, and I will cherish every day of it with you by my side.”

She threw her arms around his neck and he rocked her slowly until his knees began to really hurt.

He pulled her up. “Go to bed. I will have to help Clarence. The magistrate will have to be called and then we will have to come up with something to tell the girls in the morning.” Sadness for their loss engulfed him, but if their mother were going mad from her disease, at least they would be spared that.

That’s the only reason he could believe as to why Priscilla would try to kill Marisa.

The girls were now parentless, but as their guardian he’d ensure the girls never found out about what their mother had tried to do.

They would see if it could be declared an accident.

If her disease had begun to take hold and that is what made her do such a mad thing, he’d protect her memory from anyone knowing.

It was close to dawn when he slipped into Marisa’s bed. She was fast asleep, curled on her side, her dark tresses spilling over the pillow and her face radiant in the early-morning light, making her look so young. His heart clenched in his chest. She was beautiful.

He ran a finger over her cheek. He hated how hurt she was at losing the ability to have children. He vowed to God that he would ensure her life was always happy.

She stirred and her eyes flickered open. “Have you only just made it to bed?” He nodded. “You must be exhausted.”

He snuggled closer, pushing his hips against her, showing her he was anything but tired. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she said back, rubbing against him. “Make love to me.” And typically, she pulled her night rail over her head before he could do anything. “I’ve missed making love with you.”

He looked at the love shining out of her eyes and felt as raw and uncertain as a boy with his first love. She was his first love, for she made him forget anyone who’d come before her.

He groaned, not from pleasure but from his heart twisting in his chest. She would have let him divorce her if he’d wanted to. She loved him that much. He didn’t deserve such love.

She must have seen a look that allowed her to read his thoughts, for she kissed him tenderly, letting her warm mouth linger against his as she ran her hands over his naked chest. He drank in her kisses and returned her caresses with increasing need.

“Are you sure you are fully healed?”

She rose up and urged him to lie back. “No, I’m not sure. But we can still give each other pleasure.”

“I don’t want pleasure if it will hurt you or because you feel guilty.” Was the fact she couldn’t give him children going to change how she treated him? He didn’t want pity sex. He wanted the wild siren that usually demanded everything of him in bed.

“Silly. Your pleasure is my pleasure. You should know that by now. I love watching you. I love making you lose control.”

She pushed on his chest again, and he lay back, happy to let his siren take the lead as usual.

She drew the covers back and knelt over him, looking him over with such longing his member grew even harder. Pressing her lips against his bare chest, she kissed his entire body, slowly, deliberately sweeping her hair over him as she moved lower.

It had been so many weeks since he’d experienced her sensual touch that he began to tremble. This was likely to be over very quickly if he didn’t rein in his desire.

Her caresses felt like silk, every nerve ending was on fire. Her touch wasn’t hesitant but was filled with poignancy and was incredibly erotic at the same time.

He jerked when Marisa swirled her tongue over the sensitive area of his inner thighs. Her lips teased him, hovering over his erection, he could feel her hot breath on his tip, and he groaned.

His hips rose on their own accord as she attended him, licking, stroking, driving him out of his mind.

When she took him fully into her mouth he cried out, such was the pleasure.

He rose up on his elbows so he could watch her love him with her mouth.

The sight of him sliding between her sweet lips had his sacs drawing taut. He wouldn’t last long.

He sat up and pulled her round so she was straddling him backward.

He positioned her over his face, and as she suckled him deep into her throat, he lapped at her nectar, stroking between her wet folds, finding her little bud.

His fingers entered her while he pleasured her with his tongue.

Her moans vibrated down the length of him as she sucked harder, took him deeper.

Their cries grew, and he couldn’t help driving up into her mouth while his tongue lapped faster. This was heaven. His heart pounded in a wild rhythm. He could feel the desperate longing screaming from both of them.

They pleasured each other with fierce tenderness, the pain of loss forgotten, as the firestorm overcame them. They moved together, faster and faster, each suckling the other, using their mouths to give the other pleasure.

Her inner muscles clamped around his fingers, he felt her shudders, and he shattered. They came together, cresting the swells of pleasure that seemed to plow through them over and over.

When finally the rapture diminished, Marisa clambered over him to lie, trembling, in Maitland’s arms. She lay against his warm, powerful body, listening to the force of his thundering heart.

He loved her.

The truth was in his touch, his voice, his eyes, and she placed her hand on his chest, his heart.

A serene peace washed over her. His love was easing the pain of all she had lost. All he had lost.

Even though they hadn’t made love in the conventional sense, what they shared was still exquisite, with a sharp newness about it . . . a heightened sweetness and caring. They had given solace to each other.

They lay in each other’s arms as the morning dawned. A new day for a new beginning.

“I will avenge you.” His spoken vow left her in no doubt that he was serious.

Fear crept in, but she simply squeezed his hand. “I just want to be able to live in peace with you. I don’t want to have to look over our shoulders all the time.”

“I promise to give you that and so much more, my love.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful. You can’t lose me, so it goes without saying that I can’t lose you either.”

His jaw tightened. “I have to be there when we catch her.”

She stared at him for a long moment before nodding.

“Trust me,” he said quietly. “I won’t do anything foolish.”

“Go to sleep,” she told him as she rose to dress. “We have two small girls who need you and me more than ever today. I’ll see what is happening below while you try to get some rest.”

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, vowing all would be well from now on.