Page 18 of Falling for the Earl (Improper Ladies #2)

I n bed, Lucy dwelled on Hugh’s kisses. Her toes curled, remembering how he’d looked at her. The flame of passion in his eyes. Would he kiss her again? If he’d come into the bedchamber, she wouldn’t have resisted him. She was shameless where Hugh was concerned.

At the knock at the door, Lucy woke with a start. The sun crept in through gaps in the curtains. It must have been late! Was it Hugh?

She leapt from the bed, then realized with panic that she only wore her shift. “Please wait,” she called, then she threw her dress over her head and rushed to the door.

The boot boy stood there with her luggage. She thanked him as he carried it over to the bed. Hugh must have gone to the hut this morning very early to fetch it. She went limp with relief, recognizing she would never have to see the place again. Then she busied herself, sorting through her clothes and selected her crushed traveling gown.

A wave of compassion gripped her. Poor Aunt Mary. She had told Lucy to pack an evening gown. Her aunt had imagined they would be dining in elegant splendor with that rogue!

Suddenly ravenous, Lucy stripped and poured cold water into a bowl at the washstand. Shivering, she washed herself, wincing when she gently washed her face. The view in the mirror shocked her. Her hair had unraveled from its plait, wisps hanging down around her face like an eagle’s nest. How dreadful she looked with her bruised face, but the deep relief and the fledgling joy she allowed herself made her appearance seem less important. She dressed quickly, sighing over her torn stockings. There was little she could do with her curls except tie them back with a ribbon.

Lucy slipped on her shoes. How brave Hugh was. How masterful! When he’d run into the hut and found her, his gaze so concerned, her heart had turned over, despite being terrified for his safety. But in the end, Rattray had been no match for him.

Hugh had come all this way to save her. It was difficult to grasp that after everything that had happened, her future had changed for the better. Would their path to matrimony run smooth, or would something else happen to prevent it? “Oh, stop!” With a last glance in the mirror, she went downstairs, eager to see him. She wanted to grasp at happiness now, with both hands.

He waited in the foyer, his eyes tender as he greeted her. He had shaved and smelled of soap. Elegant and handsome, he made her heart leap.

Over breakfast, he told her what he’d discovered about her cousin Anabel.

“You think she might really be in Ireland?” Lucy asked, hopeful for her aunt’s sake.

“It seems likely they would go first to his family. At least until they make plans. That is, unless…”

She knew what he wouldn’t say. That their relationship might not have survived the pressures that would have been brought to bear on them both. Once alone, would their love remain strong? Would his family accept her after the divorce? Would Anabel be happy living such a different life away from her family? Lucy hoped so.

After breakfast, Lucy packed her few things into the portmanteau. At the knock on the door, she expected the boot boy to take down her luggage. But when she opened it, Hugh stood there with such warmth and longing in his eyes. Lucy reached up and grabbed his coat.

He stepped into the room and put his arms around her, his head resting against hers and his breath stirring the curls at her neck. “I should not be here,” he murmured, straightening to gaze at her, “I must tell you…”

She reached up to touch his cheek. “You can tell me all of it, later, Hugh. I want you to take me to bed.”

“Lucy,” he groaned, his hands on her shoulders holding her at a distance. “I shouldn’t be here with you, without a chaperone,” he said with a laugh. “I have hopes that I will soon be free to come to you, to claim you, sweetheart. But we must wait a little while yet. Not until Miss Ashton is married and leaves England. I promised her father.”

“Who is Miss Ashton to marry?” Surely, she hadn’t found anyone as wonderful as Hugh.

“Our vicar, Mr. Benson.”

Instead of an earl? “Will her parents agree?”

“Isabel is with child. It is necessary to be discreet until she and her vicar sail for Ceylon.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “A child? Ceylon? Heavens. Well, I wish them well.” What a good man Hugh was. He didn’t seem angry about Miss Ashton’s actions at all. She coiled her arms around his neck. “Kiss me, Hugh.”

She leaned against him, feeling his strength and the hardness of his body. He brushed his lips against hers, then captured her mouth in a long, passionate kiss. When he broke away, she moaned and reached up to stroke his hair back from his forehead. “You don’t want me?”

“Want you? With every breath I take,” he said, his voice low. At the passionate plea in her eyes, he took her hand and led her over to the bed.

Lucy’s breath quickened, and she sat quickly before her knees gave way. Her heart beat madly and her fingers ached to touch him.

“You don’t wish to be chaste at your wedding? Everyone will assume you are. It will be a lie.”

“This lie doesn’t matter, Hugh.”

He joined her on the bed, his muscular arms and fresh cologne enveloping her, as he pressed kisses along the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

Lucy’s breasts tingled.

Hugh’s hands shaped her breasts through her gown, his thumbs stroking her nipples into hard peaks. “You are so very lovely, Lucy.”

She closed her eyes at the wonderful feeling, pleased that he thought so. “Shall I take off my gown?”

“No, sweetheart. As much as I’d enjoy it, I won’t risk it. I want you too much.”

She was offering herself to him, and he rejected her? Did he not truly desire her?

A glance at her expression must have told him of her feelings. “Lucy, I think we should wait. I shall have that pleasure on our honeymoon.”

She sighed, but she had to agree with him. She was terribly inexperienced in these matters.

“Lucy,” he murmured as he rested his hands on each side of her head, then bent and claimed her mouth in a long, passionate kiss.

She stroked her hands over his shoulders, rendered slightly dizzy by the strength and warmth of his hard body.

He eased away and untied the strings on her gown. Then he pulled the bodice and her stays down to uncover her thin shift, revealing the thrust of her breasts and pink nipples beneath. He cupped a breast, while he kissed the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat, then trailed hot kisses down to circle a nipple through the thin lawn. Her thoughts fragmented as he tended to the other breast, while tweaking the first with his fingers.

She moaned and lay back with abandon, unable to think of anything but him and how he was making her feel.

He eased himself over her and when his mouth covered hers, she arched against him. When his hard erection pressed against her, Lucy was gripped by a powerful need. She moaned, wanting to feel that part of him and for him to touch her in that special place. She wanted to experience everything, knowing he would be gentle. That she could trust him.

He stroked his hand up her stocking to the warm flesh of her thigh. Her cheeks burned, and she stilled, as he touched the sensitive soft folds at her center. It felt extraordinary, and so right, that she closed her eyes. “Yes,” she murmured.

He bent to kiss her inner thigh as he touched her there. At the exquisite friction his stroking caused, she clutched at his silky hair, embarrassed by the slick sound of her damp flesh, and the aroma of her arousal.

Hugh groaned. He slipped a finger a little way inside her while he plundered her mouth. The sensation of his tongue stroking inside her mouth mimicked his touch. Lucy feared she would lose all sense of herself. A powerful throb at her core made her whimper, and she cried out, riding waves of intense feeling. When it finally eased away, she fell back against the pillow.

Hugh rose quickly and turned away, but not before she saw the evidence of his desire tenting his breeches. She still craved more. More of him. To lie naked against him and discover all of his body, the muscles, bones, and tendons, so different from her own. And that part of her she had never seen. But she knew that no matter how aroused he was, Hugh would not give in to her demands.

After adjusting his breeches, he returned to her. “Come, sweetheart,” he said, his voice gruff. He bent and pressed a lingering kiss on her lips. “Time to drive back to London. I’ll ask the innkeeper if a widow in the town might agree to chaperone you.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose. “If you must, Hugh.” She rose, her legs trembling, her senses sharply alive, still patently aware of his masculine smell and how his deft touch had brought about her very first experience of passion, and the pleasure lovers could give each other. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. Her dreams were about to come true, and because she’d been through so much to come to this, she feared it would all come to an end. That she would wake up and find it was, after all, a dream.

*

Hugh regained his breath and the discomfort in his trousers eased as they went downstairs. He could have taken her to bed. Lucy wouldn’t have stopped him. And she would not have rebuked him later, as she had the kind of bedrock honesty beneath everything she did, and took responsibility for her own actions. But he would have been taking advantage of her. She had suffered from Rattray’s villainy and was weak and exhausted. She was not thinking clearly, and he wanted her desperately. But what he wanted uppermost was to take care of her.

The next morning, they left the village and he drove the carriage onto the road to London with Mrs. Bromley, who had accepted the position as chaperone. The stern-faced widow sat behind them in silence after taking out her knitting. Hugh gazed at his lovely bride-to-be beside him, who narrowed her eyes at him. Earlier, she had made no secret that she didn’t want a chaperone. He chuckled. “It’s a long journey to undertake in one day, but I don’t plan to stop again. It will be late when we reach London.”

Mrs. Bromley made no complaint. She planned to spend a few days with her sister in Cheapside.

When Lucy had told him and the constable about what Rattray had done to the Marquess of Berwick in Carlisle, he’d been furious. And he was doubly glad the man was no longer able to hurt her, or anyone else. If only he’d told Lucy about Baron Maitland sooner. It would surely have been enough for her aunt to refuse Rattray’s offer of a jaunt to the country.

“I shall write to the laird and tell him the news,” he said looking down at Lucy, who gravely nodded.

The horses settled into a rhythm and the carriage traveled smoothly over the road. Hugh smiled at Lucy and put an arm around her. She rested her head against his shoulder.