Desperately Seeking Suzanna (26 page)

His mother had clearly been unstable. She’d killed his brother and tried to kill her. Of course he’d lied. He’d lied to protect his family from scandal. He’d lied…to protect her? Did he care for her?

Did he…love her?

I
can’t marry you.
His words flooded back into her mind with the force of a raging river. He hadn’t said, “I don’t wish to.” He’d said, “I can’t.” Perhaps he was only attempting to shield her from his past, from his life. He hadn’t propositioned her to be his mistress because he didn’t see her worth, he’d offered all he could given his circumstances. But, his circumstances had changed yesterday afternoon hadn’t they? If he’d only been protecting her from the secret of his ill mother, then perhaps… She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt her wet cheeks. “Chocolate cake,” she whispered to herself.

She did know him. She knew his heart. All the meaningless words in the world couldn’t cover up the truth of his heart.

“Evie, I believe I’ve made a terrible mistake.” She brushed her tears aside with the back of her hand.

Evangeline wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Terrible mistakes can sometimes lead to happiness, can’t they?”

“I hope so,” she muttered, leaning her head against her sister’s shoulder.

He had wanted to marry her that night on the terrace; she was sure of it. Did he still? After everything that happened yesterday? Perhaps there was the small chance that, through it all, he cared for her.

***

Holden stepped into Thornwood’s parlor, the room was decorated in an abundance of flowers in celebration of the duke’s recent elopement. He was here to congratulate his friend on his recently acquired leg shackle, yet his eyes were already sweeping the room for Sue. It had been weeks since he’d left her angry, injured, and rumpled in the main hall of her home. He’d kept himself busy becoming reacquainted with his father, making arrangements to visit Pemberton Hall, and visiting with his cousins, yet his mind was never far from Sue.

He heard she’d attended what was to be Miss Phillips’ betrothal ball, but he hadn’t seen her there. Granted, he’d had his hands rather full that night, pummeling Miss Phillips’ brother and restraining her betrothed while Thornwood stepped into the man’s place. Thornwood was married. It was hard to believe, but made perfect sense all the same. His friend was across the room just now, chatting with his mother, yet his eyes barely strayed from his new bride. Marriage. For as much as gentlemen ran from it, it didn’t seem so terrible from this angle.

Stepping around a gentleman lingering in conversation by the door, he saw her. Her head was thrown back in laughter as she reached for a cake from the buffet against the wall. She turned back to Thornwood’s younger sister, Roselyn, as she replied. He couldn’t hear her words, yet they made him smile all the same. She glowed in a golden gown almost the color of her hair. When she saw him, would she cease smiling? He held back for a moment, memorizing the joy in her eyes in case his presence shattered it.

His gaze must have alerted her to his arrival, for she turned a second later. Then, as he’d feared, the smile slipped from her face.

Crossing the room, he neared her. What would he say? He’d stayed away all this time to allow her anger with him to settle, but perhaps that had been the wrong approach. He’d practiced words in the mirror only this morning, yet the carefully honed apology evaporated in her presence like yesterday’s rain on a warm afternoon.

He needed to talk to her, to try once more to explain things. There was nothing for it but to begin. “I need to speak with you.”

“That sounds rather ominous.”

“It’s not so much ominous as remorseful.”

Her breasts rose and fell on shallow breaths as she looked up at him. “Remorseful. For this?” She raised her recently injured hand. “It’s mended now, so there’s no need…”

“No, in the past.” He led her farther from the gathering of people so they could speak. “I offended you, Sue. Although it was never my intention.”

“On which occasion?”

“Perhaps all of them.” He chuckled at her nod of agreement. “I see you aren’t going to play the coy ‘Oh, your actions are perfect, my lord’ bit.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. If I’m to be honest, I’m rather enjoying your discomfort.” She smiled up at him. “You aren’t remorseful often, are you? You seem out of practice.”

He shook his head and glanced away before returning his gaze to hers. “This may be the first time I’ve ever expressed true remorse, now that I consider it.”

“I can tell. You really should begin with an explanation of your improper action.”

“That’s where it gets difficult. Sue, I never meant to mislead you. I’ve lived shielded by lies most of my life. When I met you…” How was he to explain this? Perhaps there was no way in which to explain it. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have been honest with you from the beginning, or at least from the middle.”

“I’ll take honesty in the end.”

“Will you?” His chest tightened at her slight shrug. Did that mean she was willing to forgive him?

“Sue, you deserve more than my offer to be my mistress. I would provide a comfortable life for you, but there is more to life than comfort. I’ve been comfortable for years without truly living. I see that now. You helped me see that. All I could provide you then was my protection, such as it was.”

“And now?” Her jaw tightened around the words.

“My circumstances have changed.”

“As have mine.”

“Have they?” His heart stopped. Was she spoken for? Was he too late?

“Yes. I’m leaving next week for Paris. I’m going to make a fresh start of it, be an artist. I don’t want to hide behind initials any longer. You helped me see that.”

He nodded and cast his eyes toward the nearby window. He couldn’t lose her again. Turning back to her, he asked, “Would you mind having a friend’s company on your journey?”

“I believe I would like that very much. Do you know of such a friend?” A blush crept up her neck, turning her cheeks pink.

“Perhaps ‘friend’ is the wrong word, though. I’ve felt so for some time.”

“Yes. But what word would you use?”

Husband.
The word flew into his mind with a ferocity that made him blink. Would she have him? He had to try. If he didn’t, he would always wonder and regret. “That remains to be seen. There are things to be determined first.”

“What sort of things?”

“If you’re willing to marry me, for one.”

She froze for a moment before her lips parted on careful words. “Will you always tell me the truth? Even when I look hideous in a gown?”

“That would never happen. You’re just as beautiful in gowns tied up with ribbons as you are covered in paint. Actually, I believe I would prefer you covered in paint—wet, slick paint all over your skin as you slide…”

“Holden!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper as she shoved him.

A grin he couldn’t conceal covered his face. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” She smiled up at him.

He tugged her hand into his grasp.
Yes. She said yes.
“Let’s go now.”

“Now?”

“Sue, I’ve followed you across England, through ballrooms, around gardens, and I will happily follow you to Paris. I want you in my life. But I want you to be my wife—now.”

“What of the banns? My family? Your family?”

“We’ve lived enough of our lives with our families in mind. Do you really want to continue to do so for another three weeks while banns are posted?”

Her brow creased in a line he wanted to kiss away. “No, but…”

“Come with me, Sue. Be my wife.”

“Gretna Green, just as our friends did?”

“Calais, on our way to Paris. With a stop-off at home first.”

“Why do we need to stop at your home?”

“Our home. It will be your home, too, now. And we can’t very well begin our journey together, let alone our life, without first packing a lunch for our trip, or perhaps simply a large basket of sweets.” He laced her hand around his arm. She was finally where she belonged—at his side where he would never lose her again.

He looked down at her with only one question left lingering in his mind. Oddly, it was a more difficult subject to broach than marriage. He let a relaxed smile he did not feel cover his face. Soon he would tell her the extent of his feelings for her. And soon he would know if she felt the same.

***

They crashed through the bedchamber door to the sound of her gown ripping and the knowledge that she didn’t care one whit. The purpose behind their stop at home had shifted once they were in the carriage together—alone. She laughed against his lips at his attempts to kick the door closed while she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth. Pulling at the knot of his cravat until it hung loose in her fingers, she splayed her fingers across the warm skin of his neck. Rough male skin with a hint of stubble abraded her palm. She breathed in the spicy scent of his shaving soap as his lips met hers once more.

Cool air caressed her skin as he ripped her gown further and it fell to the floor around her in a discarded heap of silk. He glanced down with a chuckle that rippled through her bones. “I’ll buy you another.”

“Or we could stay nude for the duration of our marriage.” She pushed his coat from his shoulders with a grin.

“That could be arranged.” He lifted her off the ground, cupping his hands on her bottom to bring her closer to him.

Her legs twisted around his waist as her hands sank into his hair. Her eyes met his for a moment. In that moment, they both froze. She couldn’t believe this was real. Was he thinking the same? The thought vanished as his lips slashed across hers with a hunger she felt as well. His mouth trailed down the column of her neck, and her head fell back on a whimper as her fingers tightened in his hair.

Carrying her across the room to the bed, he set her on the edge and ripped his shirt off over his head, his untied cravat still hanging about his neck. The line of white fabric rested on the thick muscles of his chest and drew her eyes down to another line—the small trail of golden hair disappearing into his breeches. Without pause, she wrapped her fingers around the ends of the fabric and pulled him down to her.

His lips met hers in a hungry kiss, demanding she match his every move. A moment later, her breasts were freed as he had unfastened her stays without her notice. He broke the kiss to kneel on the bed over her, gazing down at her. “Lovely, absolutely lovely,” he mused.

When she tried to pull him down by the tails of his cravat again, he stopped her with the touch of his hand and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Grabbing the length of fabric, he unwound it from about his neck and laid it across her stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“You began this game.”

“I fear your games. They always end with me in a compromising position.”

“Exactly,” he offered around a grin. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Completely.” She blinked up into his face, knowing it was the truth.

“Then give me your hands.”

When she complied, he gave her fingers a brief squeeze. Flipping her hands over, he saw the red scars of her injury scrawled across her palm and leading in a jagged line up her wrist. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her barely healed skin. His gentle kiss held an unspoken promise that it would never happen again. He didn’t need to say the words; she knew it was the truth. He straightened, pressing her wrists together and binding them with his cravat. Moving over her, he braced a knee at her side and lifted her until she lay diagonally across his large bed.

Her heart pounded in her ears. What was he doing? Was this sort of activity what happened behind closed bedchamber doors across London? All these years and she hadn’t had a clue…

His hands swept down her arms, coming to rest on her hands. His eyes met hers for a moment as she gave him a hint of a nod. Apparently that was what he was waiting for because the next she knew, her arms were above her head being tied to one of the tall posts. When she arched her head back to see, the fabric pulled at her wrists, pinning her to the bed.

The scruff of his chin tickled her skin as he made a path down the inside of one arm with his mouth. He slid over her shoulder, pausing to pull at the lobe of her ear with his lips. Her body arched into him, and she was maddened with the need to touch his skin, feel him, hold on to him. He moved down her body, lavishing kisses on every inch of her skin until a sound of complaint escaped her throat.

He didn’t change his pace, only drove her further over the edge of insanity when he tugged the tip of her breast into his mouth, drawing circles there with his tongue. His teeth grazed the hardened peak, and he flashed a grin at her before moving farther down her body. He was driving her mad on purpose—the annoying man. She tugged at her bindings once more but the knot didn’t budge. “I need to touch you.”

“Shhh, you only need to feel. Trust me.” He kicked off his breeches and boots and knelt before her like a devious Greek god looking down on the world and wondering where he would next wreak havoc.

She flinched under his gaze, bared to him, exposed. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. But with a touch of his hand to her hip, she stilled. He spread her legs with a nudge of his thigh and ran his hand in a lazy path up and down her side until she relaxed.

She wanted his hands on her. She wanted to be touched everywhere. She wanted him. “Holden.” The whispered plea hung in the air between them as she gazed up at him.

He leaned over her, kissing her as he slipped a finger into her core. She arched into him, her breasts grazing against hardened muscle. He strummed his hand against her once more and she curled into his touch, her knees rising to brush against his sides. He pulled away from their kiss a moment later but didn’t go far as he braced himself on his elbow to look down at her. The length of him poised at her entrance.

“This might hurt a bit, but I promise it will never hurt again.” He was shaking with need as his hot skin covered hers.

At her nod, he angled her hips and drove into her with one long stroke. He claimed her cry with his mouth as he stilled, allowing her to relax around him. She felt full, deliciously full, with Holden’s weight pressing down upon her. Then he moved. Her breath caught as he withdrew and slid into her once more. This time there was no pain, only a building, agonizing need for something she knew only he could provide. His hands roamed her body as he pounded into her. Pulling her knees up, he slid into her again, driving deeper.