DD-Michaels-END.rtf (13 page)

"Hold on, Morgan," Ethan said tightly. They'd neared one of the gates, and he skillfully directed his pair toward it, neatly feathering the off-wheel of the curricle to within an inch of the wheel of a larger equipage.

He turned the curricle into the street
,
his mind racing with all the reasons he should be heading straight to Upper Brook Street for all of the time it took him to turn into the mews behind his mansion in Grosvenor Square.

"Where are we?" Morgan asked, looking about at what had to be the servants' entrance to the building on her right, just as what stood to her left was most obviously a large private stable.

"Follow my lead," Ethan told her quietly as he hopped down from the seat, then assisted Morgan to the cobblestones just as one of his grooms rushed out to him
.

"So
m
ethin' amiss, milord?" the young man asked, looking toward the team. "One of 'em throw up a stone?"

"No, Harold, they're fine. Miss Becket has expressed an interest in seeing Alejandro."

The young boy looked at Morgan, then nodded. "He's sure somethin' to see, ain't he, milord?"

"If you'd be so kind as to stand with the horses?" Ethan offered his arm
to Morgan, men added, as
if it
were an afterthought
,
"Isn't it time for your dinner, Harold?"

The boy's cheeks reddened as he nodded. "Didn't think yer knew that, milord, or cared. Yessir, it is. But, yer see, so
m
eun has to stay with the horses. The rest are al
l
up in the kitchens." He straightened his spine. "But I'm good for it
,
milord, I am. Nobody nor nothin' gets past me."

Ethan tossed him a coin. "Good man, Harold. Let no one get past you while the lady and I are inside, and there'll be another coin like that for you later. We're simply going to visit Alejandro, if anyone asks."

Morgan looked anywhere but at the groom as the boy swallowed, his huge Adam's apple working its way up and down his throat. "That's what yer doin', all right, and so says me."

"Yes, thank you, Harold," Ethan said as he laid his hand against the small of Morgan's back, and they walked together into the well-kept stables. "Good man, Harold," he said as they went.

"Indeed, yes. I should think he is destined for great things," Morgan agreed, tongue-in-cheek.

"I'd say I was corrupting you, you know, but I think someone else has done that job for me."

"That would be me," Morgan said, grinning up at him.

The stables were of stone, with sweet-smelling straw on the packed-earth ground, and cool as well as comfortably dim.

Morgan felt very at home here, and admired how well-maintained everything seemed to be. The
earl took pride in his horseflesh, and in how those animals were housed. You can tell a lot about a man from the way he treats those who serve him
and
his animals, her papa
had told her.

"How many horses do you keep here? Isn't it expensive to house them in London?"

"Fifteen at last count and, yes, it's expensive. As is keeping two coaches, a curricle and my latest folly, a high-perch phaeton. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd rather see Alejandro."

"Of course you would," Ethan said, smiling, and he directed her to the left, as the vehicles were all stored to her right. "I have no idea why I even asked such a silly question, considering your reaction to my curricle."

Morgan walked deeper into the stables, down me wide aisle framed on either side by generous-size stalls, already fairly certain that Alejandro would have the last one, which spanned the entire width of the building. He probably had his own window, as well, and perhaps a huge, tufted pillow to lounge on if the spirit moved him.

She was nearly proved right. Alejandro's was the
last stall. It was huge. It did have its own window cut through the thick stone, with its own wooden shutter fitted into the space.

"Hello again, sweetness," Morgan purred as the stallion moved toward her, for he hadn't been tied to any of the heavy iron rings bolted into the wall. "My, aren't you important. And you're not alone, either, are you?" she asked as she noticed the rather large collie dog sleeping in one corner.

"Alejandro doesn't like to be alone, so I ordered Jack brought here last night."

"Jack? I like that," Morgan said, smiling. "It's a fine name for a fine dog. My Berengaria is partial to birds, however."

"A bird?" Ethan was watching her closely, knowing they didn't have
much more time, but also knowing that she wouldn't be who she was if she ignored Alejandro, who was now nuzzling at her neck like some fawning suitor.

“H
mm
, yes," Morgan said, patting the stallion's cheek before walking back to Ethan. "Jolly. He's a parrot. Jolly Roger, actually. He must be fifty years old, we think. And not very nice, when he's upset." She smiled evilly. "I've learned quite a
few words fromhim, as a matter of fact. Not that I'd ever repeat any of them."

"A sailor's parrot, obviously. I should have realized. Becket Hall is directly on the coastline, you said. Your family is made up of sailors?"

"Not at all," Morgan said, touching her hands to the lapels of Ethan's jacket, her gaze concentrated on her actions even as her mind was warning her to silence. "Papa simply prefers his privacy." She looked up at Ethan, smiled. "And you really can't get too much
more private than the wilds of Ro
m
ney Marsh."

"Or Alejandro's stall," Ethan said, taking a half-step closer to her. "You do know why I brought you here. Don't you, Morgan?"

Her gaze was steady on his. "Because walking me through the front door of your house would have destroyed my reputation, yes. My sister E
ll
y was quite clear on what I should and should not do while in the company of a..
.
gentleman."

Ethan tipped his head to one side, grinned at her. "Well, yes, that is one reason. But not the main reason. I brought you here, Morgan, because if I had to keep my hands off you for another hour, I would most probably have suffered irreparable damage to myself."

Morgan decided, there and then, that this probably was the moment she should draw back, reassess. Possibly even panic. But she felt no qualms. No fears.

And certainly no reluctance.

No need to tease, no reason to flirt.

But perhaps a moment to reassure?

"I have
been kissed before, you know," she told
him.

"Have you really?" Ethan said, one corner of his mouth twitching as he carefully slid his arms around her back. "Many times, I'm sure."

"Well, not
many
times," Morgan said, slowly sliding her hands up onto his shoulders. His mere proximity was making her breathless, slightly dizzy. "But most certainly more than once."

"Let me guess," Ethan said, his attention all on Morgan's mouth.
"
That halfling, Jacob?"

"Poor Jacob. And he's not a halfling. He's two years older than me, as a matter of fact."

Ethan began to wonder, not without humor, who was seducing whom in Alejandro's stall. "Sweetheart, that boy hasn't been older than you since you were in your mother's womb."

"Yes..
.
my mother," Morgan said softly, then shook off a sudden thought that had a
l
ot to do with
like mother, like daughter.
"And there were others."

Ethan's left eyebrow climbed on his forehead. "Really? May a gentleman ask
how
many
others? Two? A half-dozen? A score?"

'Two," Morgan admitted, knowing he was laughing at her now. "Both gen
tl
emen. In the Waterguard. Very dangerous soldiers."

Ethan rested his forehead against hers. "Will I be forced to call either of them out?"

Morgan sighed. "No. One broke his leg when he fell into a hole in the marsh, and was sent home. The other is dead."

"One of your brothers killed him?"

Her heart stopped for a moment, then began to beat again, faster than before. She dropped her arms to her sides and stepped away from
him
,
making a great business of stripping off her gloves. "Why would you ask that?"

Ethan had sensed her sudden nervousness, had felt her muscles tighten beneath his hands before she'd pulled away from him. "I was teasing, Morgan. If they had seen him kissing you, you understand. I'm simply attempting to gauge my own odds on surviving the Season."

"Oh." Morgan relaxed, summoned a smile as she pulled at the fingers of her tight kid gloves, one by one. "I suppose you'll simply have to be very careful. Or... reconsider."

"I don't think I'll do that. After all, we've gone to all this trouble, hiding here in the stables like naughty children."

"I was always a naughty child," Morgan said proudly, feeling in control once more, as the subject of her brothers was dropped. "I'd tell you that I tried very hard to be naughty, but I can't say that. Naughty just came to me, quite easily. I think it still does."

"And that's why you can say that you've been kissed?"

Morgan frowned as she untied the ribbons of her bonnet and slipped it off, tossed it down on the clean, sweet straw before turning to face Ethan once more. "Among other things, yes. I just thought I should tell you not to worry that I'm afraid, or anything, because I have been kissed before."

Ethan took hold of her shoulders. "No, sweetheart, you have not."

"Are you calling me
a
—"

Ethan brought his mouth down on hers, even as he insinuated his thigh slightly between hers and cupped the back of her neck with one large hand, so that he could move her as he slanted his lips first this way, then that way. Teasing at her mouth, lightly suckling on her full bottom lip. Running the tip of his tongue across the front of her bottom teeth.

Retreating, but never completely. Advancing, assaulting and defeating her defenses, one by one, until she began to respon
d
—
w
hich, he was delighted to learn, did not take above a few seconds.

Morgan felt his tongue inside her mouth, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to her, even as she imitated his movements, attacking his lips when he withdrew, launching her own assault on him.

Excitement rippled through her, her blood heating, the rush of feeling caught somewhere between the mix of anxiety and exhilaration she felt when she rode out on the Marsh after midnight with the Black Ghost and a curiosity as old as time.

Ethan eased his knee more closely between her thighs, allowing her to feel his arousal, know what she was doing to him. She returned the pressure with her lower body, letting him take her weight against him, not backing away, but trading advance for advance.

He backed up, still holding on to her, until he could feel the cool stone wall behind him, and Morgan held him more tightly, so that their bodies were entirely outlined against each other while they exchanged deep kisses, pausing only to breathe.

It was madness. Kissing in the stables? Not since he had been an eager young boy, and one of the dairymaids had offered to "educate you, sir, if you've a curiosity" had he felt such a driving need to touch, to explore. To experience.

Morgan moved him beyond anything he had ever felt, ever experienced, making all of his life before her a meaningless pursuit of paltry pleasures.

His hands skimmed her sides, his passion mixed with an odd
,
unfamiliar reverence that forced a sigh from his lips when he at last cupped her full breasts
i
n his hands.

Their combi
n
ed sighs met, mingled, and then passion slammed hard into both of them.

Ethan broke the kiss, burying his head against the side of her throat as Morgan dug her fingertips into his shoulders, threw back her head to give him access to her sweet-smelling skin as he ran the pads of his thumbs back and forth beneath her short jacket, across her taut nipples covered now
only by the thin muslin of her gown.

Morgan couldn't breathe, didn't want to breathe, because that could mean this moment might slip away somehow, and she'd die if that happened, if there were no next moment that compared with this one.

And then the moment was over.

Ethan somehow regained control of himself, reluctantly, and not without personal pain, and slid his hands around Morgan's back
,
pulling her close, her head now against his shoulder.

Both of them were breathing heavily, as if they'd just run a
long race, and he could feel Morgan's body trembling, only slightly, as she burrowed into him. She said something, but he couldn't quite catch the words.

"Were you just cursing me?" he asked, kissing her hair.

"No, of course not," she said, a slow smile curving her lips. "I was simply telling you that you were right. I've never been kissed before. Until now."