Chapter Seventeen
Bella’s mouth went dry. In the pale, flickering light, he looked rough and predatory and all she’d ever wanted. The closing of the bedchamber door had been somehow symbolic, and God help her, she welcomed that.
He halted in front of her, almost but not quite touching, Still, the heat of his body seemed to burn her like a furnace. Slowly, he reached up and pulled the ribbon from her hair, letting it fall in tangles about her face. His lip quirked as though in pleasure. His eyes darkened and glittered with something that thrilled through her to the pit of her stomach and lower.
His hand lifted once more. She thought he would draw the pins from her hair, but instead, her reached around her and began to unfasten her gown. She caught her breath and exhaled in a trembling stream.
It seemed that even one-handed he knew his way around women’s clothing, for an instant later, the gown and under gown dropped around her feet in a puddle of fine muslin. Her shift quickly followed. A low moan escaped her lips as she stood naked before him, desperate to cover herself and yet afraid to move as his hot eyes devoured her from head to toe.
“Christ Almighty, you are lovely,” he whispered. And then he touched her, drawing her in by the elbow until her naked body touched his carelessly clothed one. His good arm enfolded her, holding her against him as he bent his head and kissed her once more, a blatant, open-mouthed kiss that aroused and devastated.
“You’re mine,” he uttered against her lips. “Forever. Only mine.”
She had no quarrel with that as she showed him by throwing both arms up around his neck. She tried to be careful of his poor shoulder, but beyond the inconvenience of the sling, he appeared to pay it no attention. The erection between his legs pressed hard against her stomach as he ravished her lips and throat, and then he lifted her right off the ground and strode with her to the bed.
“Tonight,” he whispered. “And all nights.”
She knew in her heart she would never have denied him, but the delicious melting weakness of her body, the surging heat of lust between her thighs as he kissed and caressed her naked breasts, took her by surprise. She didn’t merely accept him, she wanted him with a fierce need she barely understood until his caressing hand found its way between her thighs.
She stretched luxuriously under him, loving his touch, like a cat. She even mewed as his hand left her to tear off what was left of his shirt and the rest of his clothes, hurling them to the floor. She stretched up her arms to him, her fingers already curling in need. He eased himself down onto her as she smoothed the skin of his naked back and shoulders with new wonder. The thrill of his weight between her legs was such that she couldn’t help pushing her hips upward against him, and that was even sweeter.
But as if she’d been pushing him off, he eased off her on to his sound elbow, his hand leaving its sling to sweep up her thigh and inward. She cried out at his touch and writhed under the caress of his hand which was building some wild pleasure in her that she’d only known in dreams.
His heart thundered against hers, his breath labored as he kissed her mouth and her throat and breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipples, until ecstasy exploded between her legs, shooting outward to every part of her delirious body. His face weaved into her vision and he groaned as he took her mouth, as though riding the joyous wave with her.
She couldn’t tell the moment he entered her body, for there was no pain, only some intensifying of the fading convulsions. Only then he began to rock within her and her eyes widened as she absorbed a pleasure that felt so different and yet so much part of all the rest.
His back rippled under her stroking hands, his dark, clouded face blissful and yet strained as it moved over hers. With his weight still on one elbow, he bent and kissed her, every inch of his body caressing.
“Oh my,” she whispered against his lips. “Are we not meant to be married for this?”
His breath brushed her face, and then the most curious thing of all happened. His eyes lit and his lips curved, parting in the sunniest smile she had ever seen. For an instant, the world stood still as if in awe, and then joy tore her body apart and he fell on her, groaning, burying his lips in her hair, her neck.
The world came back to her, slowly, as he eased off her, turning her to one side with him so that he could stay deep inside her.
“Now I have ruined you,” he said sleepily. “And will have to marry you myself. Unless you would rather Sir George?”
“Only if you have ruptured your wound and will be unable to do this again…”
He moved lethargically. “Oh, I will be able to this again many, many times. Although it would not be kind to you to do so immediately. Let me just lie here in you for a little longer and then…”
“What?” she asked. But his eyes were closed. She thought he might have smiled for the second time that night.
She lay wrapped in his arms, her limbs tangled with his, her whole body glowing while she gazed and gazed at the face she had once found harsh. Softened with love and sleep, it looked younger and more carefree.
“I love you,” she whispered. She thought his arm tightened and he pushed against her, within her, but she couldn’t be sure. The movement might have been hers.
*
It was not quite light when she opened her eyes and gazed straight into Alban’s. The memory of last night rushed into her mind, leaving her breathless.
“You’re looking at me,” she managed.
“I am. I’m wondering what you’ll think of my plan.”
“Tell me,” she invited. Somewhere she couldn’t quite believe she was lying naked in bed with Alban looming over her. “After you’ve reported on the state of your wound.”
“It’s fine,” he said impatiently. “Gowan’s a bit of a sorcerer when it comes to wounds. I barely feel it, though I’ll probably need his ministrations again within an hour or two. Would you like to sail with me?”
“Yes.”
His lips quirked and he bent to brush his lips against hers. “I haven’t even mentioned where.”
“I don’t think you need to.”
“I was going to suggest the west coast of Scotland, where we can investigate my inheritance and decide if we’d like to live there for part of the year or sell it and buy somewhere else.”
“Grown-up plans,” she observed. “Does this mean I may stop looking for cottages?”
“Unless you’re desperate to live in a cramped shoebox.” He hesitated, then, “You needn’t consider money. I am a rich man by most people’s standards.”
“So, it doesn’t matter if my father cuts me off?”
“Not in the slightest. On the whole, I’d rather it. I also thought it might be time to send Will Conway home with directions to look after Marianne.”
“Doesn’t he have his own estate to look after?
“Yes, close-by. He’s adored her since we were children. Perhaps this is his time.”
She smiled, touching his cheek with shy tenderness. “I didn’t realize you were so romantical.”
“I’m not,” he said with revulsion. “I’m practical. I need someone I can trust around the children when I’m not there. And talking of being practical… do you think Grant could be persuaded to marry us with someone else’s special license?”
Her heart lurched. “I expect so. He could probably sort out the paperwork afterward, if necessary…”
“Would you like to do it before your family wakes up? Or afterward?”
“Before,” she said with a shudder. And yet somewhere she would be sorry to have no one there of her own. “Kate and perhaps Dr. Gowan could be our witnesses.”
“Then arise, Lady Bella, and give yourself to this rogue…before you give yourself to this rogue again.”
She blushed, laughing, because she knew exactly what he meant. “I never thought of myself as wanton before,” she said breathlessly, as he drew her very slowly out of the tangle of covers.
“I can make you a lot more wanton yet,” he said huskily, his gaze stroking every inch of her.
“More?” she said in disbelief.
“Oh yes.” With obvious effort he released her and walked around the bed to find his clothes. She couldn’t take her gaze off his naked back and rear, and the muscles that rippled in his arms and legs as he bent and climbed into his breeches. Then he rummaged in the large chest by the opposite wall. “I wonder if I can still fit into anything I wore when I was eighteen? Look, I’ll send someone up with water for you to wash in, while I go and see if I can find Grant…”
*
Having cleaned herself and her gown to the best of her ability, Bella descended the stairs to the sounds of commotion at the front door, which eventually burst open to reveal her brother Sebastian barging past one of Alban’s men into the hall.
The sailor’s fists clenched purposefully, but fortunately before he could use them, he noticed Bella hurrying down the last of the stairs toward them.
“Morning, Miss,” he said cheerfully.
“Good morning,” Bella returned.
“Miss?” Sebastian repeated, apparently outraged by this affront to her dignity. “Show some respect to La—”
“Seb, it’s fine.”
“You do know him then?” The sailor sounded disappointed, as though he’d been looking forward to another fight.
“Yes, he’s my brother. But thank you for keeping watch.” She turned to Sebastian once more. “Seb, what are you doing here?”
“Making sure all’s well with you,” he said peering at her. “And I see that it is.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she hedged, embarrassed suddenly in case the cause of her amazing new happiness was somehow written across her face.
“Well, Jenson and the other servants are in a terrible state. I came back to the hotel late last night and was immediately bombarded with tales of your abduction by pirates, and how His Grace had gone to rescue you, supported only by the aunts, old Beaton, and the wretched chaplain. And then, apparently, the real mother of those children you claimed as yours turned up breathing fire. No idea if the two are connected. At any rate, here I am, having ridden through the night—or what was left of it by the time I got enough sense out of anyone to discover where you were likely to be.”
“Thank you, Seb,” Bella said warmly, touched by this unexpected care.
“So, what the devil’s been happening? Have you been rescued?”
A breath of laughter escaped her lips. “Yes, but not in the way you might imagine.”
At faint sounds from above, she glanced up to see Alban running lightly down the stairs. Her stomach performed instant and intricate summersaults, bombarding her with memories of what he had done to her last night. Now, he wore a clean necktie and a black coat over plain breeches. Although they might have strained just a little over his broad frame, he still looked handsome in his harsh way, and almost respectable.
Behind him came Mr. and Mrs. Grant.
“Anyone I should have a word with?” Sebastian asked quietly.
She understood it was not verbal argument he had in mind.
“Oh no,” she said at once. “The truth is, we came to rescue Captain Alban, and then the Grants and His Grace misunderstood completely and came after me.”
Alban crossed the hall and Seb turned to meet him. They stood face to face.
“Niven,” Alban said without expression.
“Alban. Or is it Lamont?”
“I suppose it had better be Lamont for today’s purposes. Grant here has just agreed to marry us.”
Bella’s heart soared and she bestowed a spontaneous smile of gratitude upon the vicar.
“Dash it, Bella,” Sebastian groaned. “His Grace will go berserk.”
“As if he’s never been angry with you.”
“He’s always angry with me,” Seb said frankly. “The difference is, I don’t care.”
Bella met his gaze, warmed by his admittedly erratic protectiveness. Seb had always looked out for her, in his careless way.
“I don’t care, either,” Bella said. “Not in this. Besides, I have noticed His Grace rarely wastes his energy on things he cannot change. The best way forward is to present him with a fait accomplit.”
Seb scowled at Alban. “And you’ll take care of her?”
“With my life.”
Seb turned back to Bela, still frowning. “This is what’s made you happy? This is what you want?”
She nodded wordlessly.
Seb’s brow cleared and he grinned. “Where do we do it, then? Hurry before I sober up.”
*
By the time the rest of Bella’s family appeared, the “wedding breakfast” had reached a level of hilarity unknown to Alban without vast quantities of rum and dubious company. And yet amidst his pride in becoming Bella’s husband, he was vastly enjoying himself, not only with her, but with her rakehell of a brother, the amiable vicar and his witty, beautiful wife, his brother’s widow, and his small niece and nephew. Laughter and banter abounded.
Even Marianne, who’d been through so much in the last couple of days and who’d looked stricken when he’d told her Bella was now his wife, had come around. She had always been very much a creature of the present. And besides, he’d promised not to make any long voyages in the near future, and that while he was gone, Will Conway, who had always been devoted to her, would help in any way he could. This seemed to calm her panic and by the time they sat down to breakfast, she was infected by everyone else’s high spirits and enjoying the company of her children.
Alban was glad to see that Leo seemed to have forgiven his mother her neglect, now that his stepfather was banished to the other side of the world. He and Florrie both thought it was a great tale that their captain had turned out to be their rebellious Uncle Alban, now restored to the bosom of his family. The wedding surprised them more, since they’d always assumed he was already married to Bella. However, they took this in their stride, too, and were delighted to be allowed to join the breakfast party.
The first coachful of Marianne’s servants had arrived and it was a respectable butler who showed the Duke of Kelburn and his sisters into the sunny breakfast parlor. It irritated Alban that none of the servants from his childhood seemed to be at Roseley anymore. Marianne had allowed Radnor to dismiss most of them. The rest had left in high dudgeon. However, at least some of them recognized Alban, for he’d caught one or two of them gaping at him, and a footman had murmured, “Welcome home, sir,” as he passed.
Lady Maria, who entered the room first, stopped so suddenly that Sarah walked into her and behind them both the duke cursed, not quite under his breath.
Marianne jumped to her feet as the gentlemen rose politely. “Your Grace, ladies, do come in,” she said, with only a hint of nervousness. With a flick of her wrist she commanded the servants to set more places.
“Courage, my sweet,” Alban murmured, closing his hand over Bella’s where it gripped the table.
She smiled, twisting her hand to squeeze his fingers in return. “I’m not afraid,” she said, almost in surprise. “Not now that you’re here.”
He thought his heart might burst.
“We usually have an informal breakfast at Roseley,” Marianne was saying as the newcomers took their seats. “And this morning it seems we are celebrating.”
“Oh?” the duke said without apparent interest. His scowl was reserved for Alban, while his sisters peered anxiously at Bella.
“Yes,” Alban said. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but I married your daughter this morning.”
Silence enshrouded the room. Then the duke snorted. “It’s another hum,” he said, lifting his knife and fork as a plate was set in front of him. “You can’t have.”
“He did, he did!” Leo exclaimed.
“Lady Bella is our aunt now!” Florrie added.
“Oh Lord,” Lady Maria moaned.
“Oh dear,” Lady Sarah uttered.
“How?” the duke mocked. “You don’t have a license.”
“Actually, they did,” Grant interpolated. “The marriage is true before God and the law.” He smiled faintly, and yet, rather to Alban’s impressed surprise, there was a hint of a steely warning in his voice as he added, “Let no man put asunder, and all that. Not that anyone here would.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed. “Jackanapes! I’ll have you thrown—”
“Don’t think you will,” Sebastian murmured. “His father’s the Earl of Boulton. It’s a fait accomplit, sir. I was there myself. Be gracious.”
The duke turned his ire on Alban instead. “So long as you know you’ll get nothing from me. Not one penny.”
Alban shrugged. “We neither want nor need your pennies. But since we are family now, if you find yourself short, I’ll be happy to help.”
The duke stared at him. Even Sebastian’s grin had a distinct air of nervousness. Then His Grace gave a short bark of laughter. “You’re not afraid of anyone, are you, boy?”
“No,” Alban admitted. “I believe I owe that much to you and my father. So, you see, it wasn’t all bad. I bear no grudges and have nothing for which to…er… take revenge.”
“Lord Roseley’s son,” Lady Sarah said brightly. “It’s not such a bad match, Kelburn.”
“But will you settle, sir?” Lady Maria asked anxiously. “Bella does not keep well, you know, and you cannot drag her around the high seas! She needs—”
“Aunt Maria,” Bella interrupted gently. “I have everything I need.”
At this moment, the door opened again, and Dr. Gowan’s head appeared around it. Finding Alban, the doctor nodded.
“Give a bottle to my father-in-law,” Alban instructed. And the doctor duly entered, bearing a bottle of the finest French brandy. He bowed to Marianne and the table in general, and then walked up to the duke and set the bottle before him.
“What’s this?” the duke demanded.
“A gift,” Alban said mildly. “If you like it, there’s a barrel waiting to be delivered to whichever residence you prefer.”
His Grace stared. “I am a member of His Majesty’s government. Are you trying to get round me with smuggled brandy?”
Alban raised his eyebrows. “Of course not. I’m always looking for new business.”
The duke’s lips twitched. “I might grow to like him yet, Bella, but don’t count on it.”
Bella’s hand crept into Alban’s. “Oh, I don’t, sir.”