Page 18 of The Rake’s Absolutely Devilish Reform (The Notorious Briarwoods #4)

“C an you forgive me?”

Hector froze, his heart pumping with a shocking force. Did he dare believe his ears? Was he dreaming? He almost didn’t wish to turn around, lest he find she was not truly there.

Slowly, he turned, willing Priscilla to be there but not seeing how she possibly could be.

She stood in the shadows of his bedchamber near the servant’s entrance.

“How—”

“I’m quite good at sneaking about, if you must know,” she replied, smiling tentatively. “When I was a girl, I used to sneak about the alleys of Manchester. I knew how to hide behind boxes and crates, and then when my father opened his mills? I explored every nook and cranny, much to his consternation. So, a servant’s hall? It proves little challenge to me.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly.

It made no sense. For the sun was beginning to set. He’d been preparing to go out and deal with Lord Fitzhubert. Night was the best time for such things, after all. But now, he was transfixed by the woman he had come to love, and he felt half hope, half fear at her motivations for slipping into his rooms.

“Your mother invited my family to stay with you,” she said. “That way we can all get to know each other.”

He drew in a sharp breath, stunned. If they were to stay, surely, that meant…

“If you like,” she rushed, twining her hands together, “I don’t ever have to leave.”

His brow furrowed and he swallowed. “Do not toy with me, Priscilla.”

“I am not,” she rushed. “So much has happened since we last saw each other. Oh, but Hector,” she said softly, “I was so wrong and so afraid. And I do not know if I can forgive myself for how I used you so ill, but I hope you can.”

Hope stole through him then, but given how hard she had resisted for so long, he couldn’t quite seize it yet. “I need you to say it. Why are you here?”

“Do you still wish me to marry you?” she whispered.

A rush of joy shot through him. Was his life about to transform? “I do.”

“Would you ask me formally. Properly?” she asked “Because I have my answer.”

“You were so—”

“I know what I did, and I know what I said,” she cut in. She crossed to him then and took his hands in hers. “I thought that by doing my duty, I was securing my future,” she said. But then…any hint of fear or indecision left her face, and she beamed up at him.

She took his hand and lifted it to her lips and gently kissed it. “Ask me. Truly ask. I don’t think you ever actually have.”

He laughed softly then. “No, I haven’t. How remiss of me.”

Her eyes danced with joy. “First, I want you to know that I want this, that I understand now. You are so much more than a rake, Hector. Why did you not tell me about St. Giles?”

He hesitated. “Is that what changed everything?”

“No,” she said firmly. “No. I overheard you when you came and warned my father about Lord Fitzhubert. The way you spoke of protecting me and choosing the right thing? I knew you were different. I knew my heart had chosen the right man. But I was still afraid of letting my father down. If you must know, my mother told me to follow my heart. She said that I should not choose duty, that I should choose love. That I should trust my love for you.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking her words in, and then he pulled her into his embrace. When he opened his eyes anew, his whole spirit was alive with joy. “And do you love me then?”

“What if I told you I loved you from the moment you tumbled out of that window, and even more when you stumbled on that stone? But, you are, Lord Hector Briarwood, the most beloved gentleman of the ton. How can I believe that you love me?”

He lifted his hand and stroked a lock of hair back from her face. “Oh, my darling Priscilla. We’ve wasted far too much time. For we fell in love with each other the same night,” he said. “The moment I saw you sitting out there in the garden, and I watched you with your face upturned to the moon? My heart knew. It said, ‘Claim her and make her yours forever.’ And how could I ignore such a cry? For that is the truth. My mother taught me long ago to never ignore such a thing. And it sounds as if your mother is very similar.”

Priscilla leaned into him, wrapping her arms about his waist. “She is. She is wonderful, and I am grateful that she stopped me from pursuing someone who could do such a harmful thing to someone like you. Your poor face…”

He groaned. “I forgot that I looked like a bit of raw meat.”

“You could never,” she returned before she stretched up on her toes, lifted her hands to his face, then tilted his head down so that she might kiss the bruises there.

It was the perfect balm to his wounds and his soul. Her touch, her kiss, it was more powerful than anything he’d ever felt.

When she pulled back, tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Hector, my father did not mean… Fitzhubert merely told him he would drive you off. He never imagined that he would hurt you.”

“I believe it,” Hector assured. “Your father is a good man. A very good man. Fitzhubert is not. Sometimes people don’t understand that a great ancient name doesn’t make one good. As a matter of fact, sometimes it makes one terrible.”

He slipped back, took her hands in his, and lowered himself to one knee. “Now, will you marry me, Lady Priscilla? Will you be mine, as I will be yours, for the rest of our days?”

“I will! Oh, how I will. I’d marry you this very moment if I could.” Priscilla threw herself into his arms, refusing to ever look back. Choosing him. Choosing a new life.

Hector pulled her upward with him. Suddenly, his joy inescapable, he spun her about, causing her skirts to swing out like a bell. In all her life, Priscilla had never felt so light and full of hope. It felt as if years of worries fell away from her.

He placed her feet back to the ground, then kissed her. He cupped her face and seized her lips. There was no need to hold back now. She did not have to fight her own wishes. She did not need to feel guilt or worry or fear. So, she abandoned all reticence.

Priscilla wrapped her arms about his shoulders, opened her mouth, and touched his tongue with her own. As their mouths danced, awakening a fiery passion within her, she marveled at the bright burst of desire that leapt from between her legs and fanned through her body.

Sparks of pure need heated her blood. She drove her hands into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, wishing she could make them one.

With a low growl, he pulled her skirts up her thighs, and then in one impossibly easy lift, he brought her legs up and latched them around his muscled waist.

She gasped against his mouth, shocked by the feel of her core pressed to his abdomen. He gazed down at her with such hunger, such possessiveness, such triumph that she trembled with anticipation.

“Make me yours,” she whispered.

“You already are,” he rumbled. “You always have been. And you always will be. For I am yours too. This was always going to be. I know it. Deep in my heart, I’ve always known it, my love.”

Then without another word, he easily walked her to his bed. He laid her back and made fast work of the laces of her gown. He stripped her naked, then feasted upon her body. It was as if he could not wait another moment to have all of her.

He kissed every bit of her, awakening her body to his touch.

She bit her lower lip as he traced his mouth up her legs, over her hips, across her middle, and then paused at her breasts. A low growl of need passed his lips as he kissed one breast and then the other.

She arched against him, stunned that his mouth upon her nipples could cause such sensations.

And then he rolled her over. She stared over her shoulder at him, shocked.

But he was a man possessed with one purpose. Her pleasure. He caressed her back, teasing his fingertips along her spine. He kissed her buttocks then, skimming over the sensitive skin of her thighs.

And then he pressed one of her legs up. As he leaned forward, he took her mouth in a wild kiss. Hector stroked his hand between her legs.

The angle should have been impossible. But somehow, kissing him like this, glancing back over her shoulder, with her body so open to him, only filled her with more passion.

He slipped a finger into her hot core and then another. She cried out against his mouth as he readied her. It was another shock, but oh how perfect!

And when bliss overtook her, she tensed as her body shuddered against his.

“My love,” he growled as he turned her onto her back, leaving her languid and naked before him.

In ragged movements, he divested himself of his own clothes.

She spotted his sex, and her eyes widened. He was so…powerful. So large. And she felt a moment’s trepidation. But then before he could even ask, she said, “I need you.”

“As I need you,” he growled. He took his sex in his hand and rubbed the head up and down her slick folds.

Much to her amazement, her own desire began to build again. She needed him. She needed him inside her. And just as she was about to grab his hips, he parted her thighs a little further, rested the head of his sex against her opening, and rocked forward.

A sharp cry of distress passed her lips. “It hurts,” she gritted.

His face strained as he clearly tried to control himself. “Would you like me to stop?”

“I’ll never forgive you if you do,” she hissed. “I want this. I want you.”

His eyes flared at her primal passion.

With a nod, he reached down between their bodies, and he stroked her most sensitive spot. Her body began to relax, and she arched her hips.

A low grown rumbled from him then and he bent, taking her mouth with his. He thrust forward.

Amazed, she found it no longer hurt. And she folded her arms about him, eager now to feel filled by him.

As he rocked his hips against her, and his fingers worked between them, she felt a rapture she’d never known and could hardly believe existed. But then she was soaring. Soaring into perfect light. And she knew she’d found exactly where she’d always belonged.

With her Hector.

Hector suddenly tensed, and his entire body shook as his own pleasure coursed through him. He held her tightly, held her as if he would never let go.

And she knew he wouldn’t. He would always hold her. Through everything. Through all of life. And her happiness was complete.

Priscilla loved the feel of her body intertwined with his. She could scarce believe how delicious she felt in his arms, with nothing between them. They were one. And they always would be!

He traced his fingertips along her back, and both of them savored the moment.

“I do hope your father won’t murder me for this.”

She laughed softly. “He understands love. He loves my mother as if she was his own self. They’ve never been apart. And he’s given his consent. To him, we might as well be married already.”

He stared down at her. “I still can’t quite believe it.”

She bit her lower lip, wondering if she dared say the thoughts now dancing through her head.

He took her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me. I can see you wish to say something.”

“What you do in St. Giles… It is a wonder. I accused you of not understanding that art was a privilege. But you made art available. You took away all the barriers and boundaries. You take art to those children. Perhaps it is not paintings. But oh, Hector, I think it is even better. I wish there had been something like that in my life when I was small. Before my life changed.”

She swallowed, afraid to speak of the past. Could he truly accept her? Know her.

He tilted her head slightly and held her gaze. “You never need be anyone but yourself with me, my love. I will never leave you or let you down. All I ever wanted was for you to be true to yourself.”

Emotion swept through her and tears filled her eyes. She did not try to dash them away but allowed herself to feel. To feel it all, here with the man she loved.

“Unburden yourself,” he urged.

“There was so much fear,” she whispered. “Fear at every turn. We were cold and hungry. And the street we lived on was full of violence and cruelty. In my dreams, I can still hear the fights in the neighboring houses. Everyone was struggling to survive. Gin was everywhere. And so was the brutality that came with it.”

He listened. Oh, how he listened. He listened without judgment, without trying to stop her. He simply held her as the words poured out.

She sucked in a ragged breath. “I have always been afraid that something might happen to yank me back to that. And now, knowing what Lord Fitzhubert really is, I know if I had married him, in a way I would have gone back to that violence. That fear. Oh, I would have been warm, but…”

She could not continue. And so she held tightly to him and managed to whisper, “How is it you are so good? And why doesn’t everyone know?”

He paused. “Thank you for trusting me, Priscilla. With your heart, your safety, your future. You have to understand. My mother raised me in a very specific way. We weren’t to brag about such things, to make much of it. It was simply to be who we were, who we are. I took interest in the children of St. Giles because my mother and my aunt grew up in such circumstances. And I thought of my mother as a little girl and how I wished someone had helped her. So, that’s what I chose to do. I go there almost daily because I wished someone had been there for my mother, to give her hope in the darkness, when all around seemed cruel. My aunt still lives in the South of London, even though she’s a wealthy actress. I have grown up accustomed to such things.”

His words meant so much she could hardly speak. And that was when she realized how exhausted she was. So exhausted masquerading, pretending that she had not come from poverty and pain and a whole other world.

With Hector, she’d never have to pretend again.

“So…you don’t mind me?” she asked, her voice full of emotion. “Or my family?”

“Mind you!” he exclaimed. “I think you’re bloody glorious, Priscilla.”

“Let us be married at once,” she said.

He kissed her softly then. A gentle, assuring touch. “I think your father would like it much better if we were married in Westminster.”

She laughed, suddenly feeling safer than she ever had, for she did not have to fear being rejected or abandoned for who she truly was.

“It’s probably true,” she said. “But do you know what?”

“What?” he said softly.

“I have been doing what my father wants for years. I think now it is time to do what I want. But that doesn’t mean that he won’t get what he wants too,” she said gently.

“Oh, Priscilla,” he said, “that is what I wanted for you more than anything.”

“Even more than me saying yes to marrying you?” she asked, shocked. “Even more than me saying I could love you?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “You see, I wanted you to marry me. Very much. And I wanted you to fall in love with me. But I love you enough to want good things for you, to want you to choose yourself. If I had to let you go in order for that to happen? I’d always choose that, no matter the pain.”

“Oh, Hector,” she rasped, so overcome with love for him that she felt wrapped up in its power. “Is there a better man than you?”

“It was my feathered hat that won you over,” he teased softly. “Wasn’t it?”

And she thought of the little boy Hector had transformed, pulling him out of fear, placing that hat upon his little head.

So she nodded, for in a way it was the truth. “Oh, absolutely, Prince Hal. Absolutely.”

His own eyes shone then. Shone with his love and the hope for all that was to come. And all that would be.

Hector lowered his mouth to hers, taking her lips in a soft kiss.

She kissed him in turn.

“Welcome home, my love,” he whispered against her mouth. “Welcome home.”