“Are you certain you wish to—?”
“Good heaven’s, Gabriel, right now it is our only option. I refuse to leave my costumes behind.” Mary set her jaw, giving Gabe a look that meant she was serious. She heaved a heavy breath, taking in the scent of hay, leather, and manure.
“Best listen to what she says, my friend. Mary is like to box you in the nose if you make her abandon her costumes.” Stevens grinned as a horse whinnied and stomped in a nearby stall.
“But to sit on them?” Gabe argued. “The curricle is high enough and, moreover, it is dangerous. Adding height where there wasn’t before could very well send you tumbling off the back.” His eyes lit with worry and Mary felt her stubbornness melt a little. A very little.
She sighed. “The horse Stevens set free for the other stable hands to chase is likely to have been caught by now. We haven’t the luxury of another distraction without causing further suspicion. Gabe, we have tarried long enough. Lady Kerr and her men will have roused already and others will be alerted to their plight. We have mere moments. I have saved you once today, already, I simply do not have the strength to do so again.”
Stevens raised an eyebrow. “When I return to London, I expect a full account of what occurred between Lady Kerr and the two of you.” He turned his gaze on Gabe. “Especially you. Looks like she beat the bloody—”
“Oi! You tread on dangerous ground, man.” Gabe lifted Mary’s trunk onto the curricle’s seat and shifted it to her side.
Mary sidled up to Stevens and winked. “It wasn’t all her.”
Stevens’ jaw dropped and Mary laughed. Gabe muttered something unintelligible, which made Stevens laugh, the loud, guttural sound rumbling through her chest.
“You two are going to cause a bloody scene,” Gabe grumbled.
Stevens suddenly wrapped his arms around Mary and dipped her in an exaggerated flourish, bussing her quickly on the cheek. “I shall miss you, my dear friend!”
Mary could not help the startled giggle that escaped as she raised a hand to her falling coiffure. She had missed Stevens; he never failed to put a smile upon her lips.
He righted her just as Gabe grabbed her bodily and placed her in the curricle seat. Gabe settled himself on the seat beside her, the motion sending awareness skittering along her nerves. How could she still have such feelings for the dratted man after the way he had behaved last evening?
He apologized, Mary. Perhaps he truly is sorry for the events of last night, as well?
Beside her, he gripped the horses’ reins in his hands. Mary tied her loose hair back into a serviceable knot at the base of her neck.
“Safe journey!” Stevens raised a hand to salute them.
Mary smiled and waved in response.
Gabe flicked the reins and the two bays jolted the curricle forward at a trot, sending Mary backwards. She caught herself on the side of the vehicle and on Gabe’s regrettably injured shoulder. He hissed a breath, but caught her with his free hand.
“I told ye it was dangerous,” he gritted out, his jaw clenched.
Mary righted herself, but kept a hand firmly settled on the curricle’s side. “I am fine. I merely was not expecting such a quick start.”
She could see the muscles of his jaw tighten and she forced herself to look away. Let the man be angry. The grouch.
She turned her face up to the afternoon sun, allowing the warmth to wash her worries away, if only for a moment. She watched the scenery pass by, trees, crops, estates… What—?
“Gabe!”
“Aye?”
“This isn’t the way to London. We are going in the wrong direction!”
“Aye.”
She huffed an exasperated breath. “Why are we not returning to London? The ride to London is no less than ten hours from Kerr House, surely you would wish to—”
“Aye, lass, but I willnae take ye there just yet.” She opened her mouth, but he continued in his deep brogue, “I willnae take ye there because Lady Kerr’s brutes are like te follow the curricle’s tracks…and the horses’ fer that matter. We will journey an hour West toward Brighton and send the curricle back. From there we will acquire alternate equipage and take the long road back te London.”
Mary shut her mouth and thought on it. It was a sound plan. Dash it.
With one hand still gripping the side of the curricle, Mary sat back and decided to enjoy the rest of the journey.
“I’ve always wanted to visit Brighton,” she said.
“We willnae be visiting, Mary. Donnae make yerself known te others tha’ we come across. Keep te yerself and let me do the talking.”
Mary sat bolt upright and gave him a mock salute. “Aye laddie!”
There his jaw went, tightening again.
“You will lose your teeth if you continue grinding them,” she said. “Grind them to a dust, you will.”
He sent her a scathing sideways glance, but remained silent. It was just as well. This way she could enjoy the clip clop of the horses’ hooves and the gentle rumbling of the curricle’s wheels.
* * *
“It is about bloody time someone released us,” Lady Kerr grumbled hoarsely as Cecil Piper opened the creaky dungeon door. “I have been shouting for over an hour, curse you!”
“I’m so sorry, my lady. Damned hard to hear you from the drawing room, eh wot?”
Evelyn ground her teeth together at his oft-repeated expression, the irritation of it nearly driving her mad. But for the moment, she must put it from her mind. They had more important issues at hand.
“Gather the others for an emergency meeting,” Evelyn ordered, storming up the narrow stairwell leading from the dungeons. “We have much to discuss.”
* * *
“No man has ever returned her attentions and no man has ever given her the affection that she damned well deserves,” Stevens had said.
Gabe tied the last of the bandages around his chest. Since entering their bedchamber in the inn just a few miles outside of Brighton, they had been silent. Not a word was exchanged between Gabe and Mary as they performed their ablutions and as Gabe tended to his many wounds. He sat in the only chair in just a towel tied tightly around his waist, the injuries on his leg and chest cleaned and bound, and his swollen face thoroughly washed.
They had sent Lord and Lady Kerr’s borrowed equipage back, and a carriage was being prepared for them. It left them plenty of time to clean themselves up, possibly sleep, and prepare for the journey to London.
He looked over his shoulder at Mary as she washed the dust of travel from her beautiful, faintly freckled, heart-shaped face. What had possessed him to become so cross with her on the short journey to this roadside inn?
Having washed, Mary wheeled herself about to give him the full force of her irritated gaze. “How could you treat those nice gentlemen like that?” she asked, finally breaking their silence.
Those nice gentlemen had gawked and salivated over Mary the moment they had entered the innyard. They had looked her up and down and saw her as fair game.
“They were rude to ye,” he grumbled. Damn his miserable temperament.
“And Stevens? And our marks?” Mary stepped closer to him, her hands on her hips in the position of a schoolmarm. A dashed attractive schoolmarm. “Was it truly necessary to behave in such a way? You were supposed to be Mr. Anthony Spencer, rakehell, ne’er do well, and inveterate gambler, not unconscionable grouch and grumbling recluse. Why, you spent the majority of the house party glaring at the other men with jaw clenched and the remainder of the time harping at me.”
Gabe’s heart tripped over itself as she spoke, his stomach in ludicrous knots.
“It is no wonder they pegged you as a spy,” she continued. “Good heavens, Gabriel, did you not stop to think—”
Gabe burst. “I was jealous!” he shouted over her litany of charges against him.
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he realized they were true. My God, I was jealous! Truly, fully jealous. He had thought those feelings were merely akin to jealousy and perhaps concern for Mary’s wellbeing, not the full, incensed jealousy that he now realized raged through his body.
Mary’s mouth had dropped open and Gabe cursed soundly.
He opened his mouth to assure her that the feeling would pass and he would be his normal self soon enough, but something else entirely came out. “I want ye. I never allowed myself te believe it, or even think it until these past few days, but it is true. I have never liked ye te continue on as an actress and a spy because, in part, I was concerned fer yer safety, but if I am truly honest…I detested the thought of ye with another man. I still do. Everrah time ye flirt with a man, touch him, whisper to him, or allow him te gaze at ye as a stallion does a mare, I feel it,” he pressed a hand to the bandages covering his stomach, “here.” He shook his head. “I cannae name all th’ feelings tha’ ye rouse in me, Mary, but I knoo fer certain that I desire ye.”
His skin was taut and his heart thudded madly in his chest as he gazed at Mary, awaiting a response. He had surprised her, of that he had no doubt. Hell, he had surprised himself.
Nervousness churned its way through his stomach at her silence, and Gabe found his mouth running away with him once more. “I think aboot ye. I think aboot th’ way yer hips move, aboot the way yer hair would fall over yer shoulders as ye rode me. I think aboot bending ye over a chair, or a table, or any number of damned pieces of furniture te take ye from behind, and swiving ye long into th’ night. I think aboot making ye scream my name, and the dreamy look in yer grey eyes as ye come. And God, I think aboot yer breasts. Pert and smooth with dusky nipples tha’ I want te pull into my mouth and feast upon.” By now his raging erection would be painfully obvious to her, tenting the towel at his waist, but he could not bring himself to care. He was laying himself out before her. And by damn, if she let him have her, he would be grateful for his second chance. “I want ye. I need ye.”
* * *
Mary stood near the foot of the bed in the inn’s cramped bedchamber, shock and arousal swirling around and working their way through her.
She had been so certain that he hated her. That he believed her unfit to be a spy and disapproved of her life’s journey. In a way he had, but not for the reasons she had let herself believe all these years.
Her heart pumped a staccato beat in her chest as she gazed at him. He wore naught but a towel about his waist and down his thighs, his arousal beneath it all but straining in its eagerness. The sight sent another flood of warmth straight down her middle to pool at the apex of her thighs.
His face was still swollen, and the purple discolouration that came with the beginnings of bruising started to show around the cracks on his cheekbones and lips. The light of the low burning fire mingled with the brightness of the sunset shining in from the room’s one window, lighting him in half wavering and half still light. The effect was beautiful.
Mary’s stomach quivered as she took in his appearance. He was in earnest, standing before her, spilling his feelings on the table and waiting for her response. She could sense his desperation and fear of rejection.
As much as she wanted to ease his discomfort, she could not help but point out the painful truth. “You could have had me last night, Gabriel. You left me in that bed. I had very obviously been willing to give myself to you, but you made your excuses while still inside me and clambered off the bed as though the hounds of hell were at your heels.”
Remorse filled his features. “It was wrong of me, Mary. Ye surprised me. Frightened me.”
She gave him a puzzled frown. Frightened?
He shook his head helplessly. “I cannae think of how t’ explain.” He hesitated. “I didnae ken ye were…tha’ ye were a maiden, Mary.”
A nervous tingle shot its way through Mary’s stomach. He knows. Damn it, he knows. How could a man tell something like that?
“I didnae wish te hurt ye. I was confused and surprised. It took me off guard and I did wha’ a coward would do. I fled. I apologize, Mary. I didnae mean te make ye feel unwanted. Because damn it, ye’re anything but.”
As much as she wished to take his words for what they were—both flattering and comforting—there was one more issue that remained unresolved. “What of twelve years ago? What of when you abandoned me for Scotland?” Her lip quivered. “I heard you,” she continued on a whisper. “That day in the streets of Carlisle, I heard you speaking to the Misses Smithe.”
Gabe grimaced. “Aw, damn, Mary, ye were nae meant te hear tha’.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Evidently.”
He tentatively gripped her hands within his, pulling her arms from their defensive stance. “I was afraid even then, Mary. I was too proud te admit my true feelings. My father had just died, and despite his absence from my life fer so long, I felt tha’ I suddenly needed te be the man tha’ he couldnae be fer mum. I needed te protect my mum. The second we left Carlisle I missed ye. I deeply regretted nae speaking te ye. I said as much in my letters…”
“Letters?” Mary pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and worried the tender flesh.
“Aye. Did ye read them?”
Mary regretfully shook her head. “I burned them unopened.”
His lips thinned, but he nodded. “Aye, and ye had reason te.” His hands tightened over hers. “I’m verra sorry, Mary.”
She gazed into his warm, blue eyes as he spoke.
“Despite how I treated ye, yer friendship meant a lot te me.” He cringed. “An’ despite how I behaved last night, yer offering was more than tempting.” His voice deepened, “Ye make me yearn fer ye, leannan. Ye make me burn.”
His words were a soothing balm to her aching heart. And his cockstand was very clear evidence that his words held truth.
One thing was certain. Mary would not waste this opportunity. If Gabe wanted her, then have her he shall.
She closed the short distance separating them and lifted her arms around his shoulders to tangle her fingers in his curly chocolate locks. “Take me, Gabe,” she whispered. “However you want me.”
The muscles in his jaw jumped. “Are ye certain tha’ is wha’ ye want, leannan?”
She looked up into his glittering blue eyes. “Yes.”
His reaction was instantaneous. He wrapped his arms tightly around her to hold her anchored to him and his mouth crushed down onto hers. She released a short moan of surprise at his speed, but swiftly melted into his kiss. He fisted his hands in the fabric of her dusty day dress as he pressed her firmly into his chest.
The metallic taste of Gabe’s blood entered her mouth as the split in his lip reopened. Gabriel didn’t seem to mind, so neither did she. He kissed her long and hard, his tongue lapping fervently at the inside of her mouth.
With his lips still locked with hers, he withdrew his arms from about her and pulled frantically at her clothes. Mary aided him, leading his hands to the fastenings at her front. He fumbled with the small buttons, but finally twisted them open.
With tongues intertwining and breath mingling heatedly between them, Gabe pushed her dress off her shoulders to slide down her body and into a pile on the floor. Her chemisette and woollen stockings soon followed, until she stood nude before him.
He reached up to tug gently on Mary’s already falling coiffure until her hair hung loose about her shoulders.
His eyes half-lidded, he reverently ran his fingers through her hair. “Yer hair,” he groaned. “So fine… So pretty…”
He wrapped his arms tightly around her once more and lifted her bodily in his arms, bringing her to the bed to lay her atop the counterpane. He climbed up after her, kneeling between her legs.
“Not a little waif any longer,” he said, the timbre of his voice deep and rumbling.
She tilted her head to gaze quizzically at him, but he dipped to press his lips to her neck. He licked, nipped, and teased the side of her neck, her collarbone, and the upper swells of her breasts.
Her hands found his soft hair once more and she dug her fingers in. She felt hot. Hot and eager. Her hips rose off the counterpane of their own accord, seeking his touch and the satisfaction she knew would come with it.
“Be patient, leannan.” He grinned against the skin between her breasts.
He slid his lips lightly up one mound until he reached her nipple, then leisurely sucked it into his mouth, pulling a gasp of delight from her.
He groaned, the vibration tingling across her breasts, and then scraped at her bud with his teeth. She gasped, and her hands tightened in his hair, her hips lifting up once more.
He grunted. “Damn it, Mary, ye’ll be the death of me.”
Lifting one hand off the counterpane and relying on the other to support his weight, Gabe slid the tips of his fingers over her waist. She quivered, gooseflesh erupting over her skin at his sensuous touch.
“I cannae wait,” he ground out.
Mary whimpered as he left her breast, the air in the room sending a chill over her damp, puckering skin.
He lowered himself down her body until his head was settled between her thighs. It might be the raw need fogging her mind, but Mary was utterly at sixes and sevens as to what he might be doing.
He pressed her knees apart, splaying her wide open for his delectation. Heat spread over her cheeks as his eyes lit with fiery desire. Without preamble, he spread her feminine folds and pressed his mouth to her most private area.
“Oh!” She breathed. “Oh, Gabe!”
His tongue swirled around the small nub there, the feeling was similar to that which she had experienced with his fingers, but oh, so much more delicious!
He lapped and licked, swirling and flicking his tongue over her sensitive nub.
It was a shocking intimacy, but she could not complain. In fact, she could scarcely think at all. Her incoherent moans of delight echoed off the walls of the room, each one seemingly encouraging Gabe to increase the pace of his amorous attentions.
Her moans turned rapidly into short, heavy gasps as she arched her back, her head pressing firmly into the pillow.
Her fingers sought out his hair and she twined them through the ruffled locks, tighter…tighter, as he wound her closer to the explosion she knew was sure to come.
Flicking his tongue faster and increasing his pressure, Gabe eagerly coiled her need to a feverish pitch. Stars appeared behind her eyelids in a fiery display of light, her hoarse cry of gratification erupting from her as her pleasure hit in wave after crashing wave of ecstasy.