That night, Emmeline stared wide-eyed up at the shadows cast by firelight on her bedchamber ceiling. The scene at Thornton Manor kept playing over and over in her mind.
Alex hadn’t seemed angry—or had he merely hidden it well? She’d known not to expect declarations of love, yet she couldn’t help feeling vaguely disappointed.
But she had chosen this plan, and it had worked: Alex was going to marry her. She didn’t care about where they would live or any other detail—she was going to be married to the man she loved, and she would make him so happy, he would have to love her.
Emmeline had sent a missive telling Blythe about the wedding, and hoped her sister would return in time. She prayed her brothers would be there as well, but she couldn’t know if her letters would reach them.
She must have finally dozed off, because suddenly she awoke and knew she wasn’t alone. She felt the press of a male body along her side. The fire had gone out and she could see nothing, but she didn’t need to see to know that it was Alex, even as he drew the blankets away from her. Her heart swelled to bursting.
She whispered his name and turned into him, wrapping her arms about him. He was naked, his skin warm everywhere it touched hers—which were only her feet and her hands. Yet her smock began a slow slide up her legs as he pulled it.
It felt so right to lie in bed at his side. Surely every night would be like this. He must love her, he must. But she waited for the words in vain.
Instead, he spoke to her with his body, overwhelming her with a passion she had never imagined could exist between two people. He pulled the smock over her head, and she lay naked and embarrassed, praying he would touch her.
Instead he whispered, “I want to see you. Is there a candle on the table?”
“Yes, but Alex—”
“Just wait.”
He left the bed, and after a moment a candle flared to life as he lit it in the last embers of the fire. She stared at his body as he walked toward her, in awe at the elegant way his muscles moved. He was broad through the shoulders and lean through his hips; his penis was erect and full. The thought of it inside her made her shudder wickedly. Would he let her kiss it?
She realized he was staring down at her, and she lay back on the pillow and let him look. He grinned at her, then found even more candles, until the bed was surrounded in a romantic glow.
On his hands and knees, he crawled onto the bed and over her body, dropping kisses as he passed. His lips praised her feet and the backs of her knees, the inside of her thighs, and her hipbones. He dipped his tongue into her naval, then licked a long path up and around her breasts, even as she prayed he would kiss their peaks again. But he teased her, coming ever nearer with his teeth and tongue, until she wanted to put her breast into his mouth.
Finally his tongue swirled about her nipple and she cried out. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth as Alex laughed softly against her breast. That felt almost as erotic as his tongue. Then he was kissing her and licking her and touching her everywhere, whispering impassioned words of her beauty. He came up to her mouth and kissed her, lowering his body on top of hers. Every inch of his skin burned her with a heat she gladly welcomed. She wanted him a part of her always, and she wrapped her arms about him. Feeling hesitant, she bent her knee and slid her foot along his leg. His hips settled deeper between her thighs, where the hard length of his erection teased her.
He groaned into her mouth and stroked her tongue with his. She slid her hands down his face and neck, then over the strong muscles of his shoulders. His back was warm and hard, so smooth. She brushed her fingers over his nipples. Between her legs, his erection pulsed against her.
“Em, I can’t wait,” he whispered hoarsely.
“Don’t wait. Just tell me what to do.”
“Bend your other knee, and I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
He braced himself above her, and she felt him probe between her thighs. With a shudder, he slid a small ways into her, then out.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, desperate to experience again what he’d made her feel in the coach.
“The first time will hurt you.”
“I know. But please—”
She tilted her hips up toward him, and was rewarded as he slid in deeper. With a groan he thrust all the way inside her, and a small pain stung her, then faded away.
“Are you all right?” he asked, bending to kiss her mouth. “Because you feel wondrous.”
“I am more than all right. Make me come alive again, Alex.”
He began a slow slide in and out of her, and every brush of his hips against hers made her long for completion. Rounding his back, he bent and licked her nipples until the ache between her thighs ravaged her mind and her will. There was only Alex and her, his body joined to hers, his soul a part of hers. The spasm of pleasure she’d longed for jolted through her, and with a groan, he buried himself deep inside her and shuddered as the same pleasure took him.
Afterward, Alex braced himself above her, not wanting to move for fear he’d never again find the perfection that he’d discovered in her embrace. The candlelight glowed across her skin as she lay looking up at him, wide-eyed and sated. But there was more, because she smiled tremulously, and in her eyes warmth and trust shone through like he’d never seen before.
And it was all for him. He was overwhelmed, amazed, and grateful.
She had orchestrated their betrothal—but did she love him?
He came down by her side, pulling her into his arms. As he stroked her back, he smiled and whispered, “So who is the father of your child?”
She groaned and pressed her face into his neck. “I’m not with child.”
“I know. But now that I’ve given you a demonstration of how babies are made, you won’t make that mistake again, will you?”
She laughed and lay back against her pillow to look up at him. Slowly her smile died, and she reached up to brush his hair back from his forehead.
“Alex, we should talk.”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to know why I—”
“You chose me, and that’s all I need to know, Em.”
“Then you aren’t angry?”
He leaned down to kiss her mouth. “Do I taste angry?” He took her hand and brought it to his hard penis. “Do I feel angry?”
Wearing an intrigued expression, she explored him with her hands. He allowed it, though her every touch made him want to thrust inside her, as if they hadn’t just shaken the bed with their lovemaking.
Keeping a tight hold on him, she glanced at his face. “Am I allowed to kiss you as you’ve kissed me?”
He stared at her, and desire blotted out his every rational thought. “Do anything you please,” he said hoarsely.
She pushed herself up onto her knees and sat back to look at him. Though her blush never diminished, she explored his body with hands soft as silk. She pressed delicate kisses along his chest and thighs, and her hair trailed after her in an erotic wake. She lingered above his hips and looked up at him.
“May I do anything here?”
He sucked in a breath and could only nod. How had he ever imagined innocence to be boring? Then she took him into her mouth and a moan escaped him. He lasted only a minute before he pulled her knee across to straddle him.
“Alex?”
“Just hold on.”
He thrust up inside her, and she threw her head back and smiled, catching onto the motion quickly. Her breasts were like ripe fruit that he eagerly captured. He reached between her legs to stroke her, and it was only moments before they both climaxed again.
She fell down shuddering against his chest. He rolled her to the side and held her and was glad that in only two days’ time he’d never have to leave her bed.
He kissed her cheek, and she smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. “I must go,” he whispered, nibbling her lower lip.
“Hmmm.”
He looked at her—sweet and warm and soon to be his wife. He tucked the blankets around her, wondering if tonight they’d made a babe, and trying to imagine himself a father.
It was a strange feeling, one that made him want to distance himself from the overwhelming nature of it. Emmeline opened her eyes and looked up at him, and he said the first stupid thing that came to mind.
“Well, if we have to marry, at least now there’s a reason for it.”
She blinked at him, and he cursed himself for a fool and got out of bed before he made it worse. She never said another word, even when he stood on the windowsill and blew her a kiss good-bye.
Emmeline spent a restless night. Oh, she didn’t worry about Alex’s foolish words, because she knew he didn’t mean them. She even found it reassuring that their lovemaking meant so much to him that he had to joke about it to cover his feelings.
But all the next day, she pondered her unease, even while she chose one of her newer gowns as her wedding garment. The servants bustled about her, preparing a feast, though her father hadn’t ordered one. They were thrilled for her, and Emmeline was touched.
But something was wrong. On the drive to the church the following morning, she felt nauseated and shaky, and altogether unlike herself. Had she made a dreadful mistake, manipulating Alex’s life just as her father had manipulated hers?
They arrived at the church and Humphrey, her beloved coachman, opened the door and beamed up at her, prouder than her own father, who sat silently at her side with his face turned away. She looked up to see Alex waiting at the church door, resplendent in gold and white garments that glittered in the sun.
And Emmeline couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t force him to marry her. She ignored Humphrey’s hand, jumped out of the coach and started to run. It was the only thing she could think of to make Alex declare himself. Panic engulfed her, and she wondered if she’d just made the worst decision of her life. Would he follow her?
Alex felt utterly ridiculous gaping at Emmeline as she ran down the street. Her lovely peach gown rippled behind her feet. He heard his mother’s horrified gasp, saw Spencer shaking his head in sympathy. For a moment, all he could think was how this had happened to his brother—how could it happen to him, too?
“Emmeline!” he yelled, setting off after her. “Damnit, I even wrote a poem for the ceremony! You have to come back!”
He dodged people on the street, ignored the jeers and the shouts. He heard a coach behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Humphrey determinedly following him.
The more Emmeline ran, the more heartsick he felt. A bitter darkness would enshroud his life without her in it.
He put on a burst of speed, and caught her by the elbow; she whirled toward him. He expected to see remorse on her face, but instead she looked wide-eyed and hopeful. He saw the crowd they’d drawn, saw Humphrey practically vault from the driver’s box to hold the coach door open.
He took her by the shoulders.
“Em, what are you doing? Don’t you want to marry me?”
Amazingly, she smiled. “Of course I do. You’ve changed me in so many ways, helped me to realize that I have a life just as valuable as Blythe’s or anyone else’s. I deserve happiness, just as you do. And we can be happy with one another, I know it. But I need more. I love you, Alex.”
She took a deep breath, and her smile became almost blinding in its soft beauty as she gazed up at him with luminous, shining eyes. He was speechless at the magnitude of what he felt for her, the relief and joy of knowing that she wanted to be married to him.
Suddenly, Emmeline put her hands on her hips and frowned up at him. “Well?”
And he knew then that he could no longer lie to her or himself. He loved her—how could he not have known it? Why had he been a coward by not announcing it to the whole world?
He took her face in his hands and smiled down at her. “I love you, Em.”
A resounding cheer rose up around them.
“You are everything that is brave and good,” he continued, using his thumb to wipe the tear that fell from her eye. “You stood up to your father for me, something I still find amazing. You would help anyone—your sister, Max, even me, though I little deserve it. Long ago something inside me changed, made me think the kind of man I was wasn’t as important as the power and wealth I lacked. Every woman before you only confirmed this in my eyes. For it was the money they wanted, not me.”
She pressed herself against him, hugging him around the waist.
“I thought only power counted,” he said. “Did I tell you I was just elected to the House of Commons?”
“Oh, Alex, how wonderful!”
“But don’t you see, it doesn’t matter! I’m the same man, regardless of what I do. I’ve found myself again by loving you.”
She pulled his head down and kissed him. “Alex, you’re not saying you’ll refuse the appointment, are you?”
“Well, of course not.” He grinned. “I just hope I can sometimes keep my mind on business, and not always on you.”
“Don’t change, Alex,” she whispered. “But let’s make our scandals smaller from now on.”
With a laugh, he swung her up in his arms, and into the waiting coach. As it rolled down the street, they leaned out the windows and waved to the excited crowd that followed them.
When they pulled up to the church they were still hanging from the coach indecorously, and the reception of some of the nobility was a trifle cool.
But Alex didn’t care. He was in a hurry to marry the woman he loved, to begin their life together. He lifted her out of the coach and carried her all the way up the stairs, while she clung to his shoulders and laughed. At the top, he saw Spencer grinning, and his mother tearfully blowing her nose in a handkerchief.
Emmeline tugged on his hand. “So Alex, once we’re married, can I see the naked statue of you?”
He almost stumbled as he laughed. It would be a good life.