In The Prince's Bed (33 page)

Her face clouded over. “How did your lovely house come to such a pass?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, unwilling to tell it when he’d have to mix the truth with so many lies.

“I like long stories.” Coming back to sit beside him, she laid her hand tenderly on his thigh. What else could he do? With a sigh, he explained about his “father’s” bad management, the corrupt steward, the worthless investments… everything he dared to tell her. He’d just begun to describe how the estate looked in his youth when Mrs. Brown hurried in with the tea and a plate of brown lumps obviously meant to be food.

“Sorry it took me so long,” the housekeeper said cheerily. “Your mother had all sorts of questions about the house, miss.”

“I can only imagine,” Katherine said dryly, as Alec stiffened.

“I put her in the front parlor while I was making the tea.” Mrs. Brown set the tray by the bed. “But when I returned, she’d gone off to sleep, poor thing. Right there in the chair.”

“We did have a long trip.” Katherine poured the tea and handed Alec a cup. “And we rose very early.”

Mrs. Brown wiped her hands on her apron. “I put a shawl over her, so she wouldn’t catch cold.” She looked them both over. “I see you’re feeling better, my lord. But I could make a poultice for your head—”

“No need. Miss Merivale is taking good care of me.”

“You’d best eat something.”

Not if he wanted to
keep
feeling better. “That will be all, Mrs. Brown.”

Pursing her lips, she said primly, “Very well. Then I’ll go see about supper.”

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After she left, Katherine cast him a chastening glance. “I know you don’t feel well, but you didn’t need to be rude.”

“It was either that or eat those.” He gestured to the lumps. “I’d rather die.”

She eyed him askance. “Don’t be silly—how bad can they be?”

“Mrs. Brown has been our housekeeper for years, but she didn’t do the cooking until we lost our cook right before I came home. She’s not very good.”

“She can’t be
that
awful,” she said as she picked a lump up and took a bite. Or rather, attempted to take a bite. It was more like a tearing with the teeth, the way a dog tears meat off the bone. As she chewed, she carefully laid the lump back down on the platter. “I… um… see what you mean. What on earth is that supposed to be?”

“Does it taste like spiced mud? And have the consistency of leather?”

She nodded, eyes round.

“Gingerbread cakes. Those are actually tolerable compared to her apple tarts. She takes the ‘tart’ part very seriously.”

“My goodness, we’ll have to hire a cook at once.”

“If you want me to live here, you will.”

She laughed. “Are Mrs. Brown and Mr. Emson your only servants?”

“Almost. There’s John, the coachman you met, and Mrs. Brown’s two daughters, who are housemaids. Her husband is the gamekeeper. He makes sure the larder stays stocked with fresh meat for his wife to cook badly. I need more staff.”

Her eyes twinkled. “I should say so. We have nearly that many servants at Merivale Manor, and this place is four times its size.” She glanced around. “Oh, dear, will it be too much a hardship for Mama and me to stay here tonight?”

“Blast.” He rose, wincing when his head pounded. “I forgot to tell Mrs. Brown to prepare a couple of rooms for you—”

“Don’t!” She tugged him back onto the bed. “I’ll go tell her. You lie back and rest.”

“I don’t want to rest.” He reached for the shoes she’d removed earlier. She whisked them away, along with his coat. “Now, now, none of that. Lie down. I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Watching as she left, carrying his clothing with her, he couldn’t decide whether to feel irritated or heartened by her overprotectiveness.

Or just plain guilty. But telling the truth would devastate her. She seemed so happy to be of use to him, so delighted by the prospect of using her money to restore Edenmore. How could he deprive her of that
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pleasure?

All right, so he was making excuses. The truth was, he didn’t want to lose her. If he could only keep her happy until they married—

Damn, had he brought the special license with him from London? If he hadn’t, that would delay everything more.

He left the bed, swayed a bit, then was able to steady himself. Now, where had Emson put those papers? Ah, yes, in his study downstairs. He looked for his shoes, remembered Katherine had taken them, then went looking for another pair in his closet. As he rummaged around, he heard her come up behind him.

“What are you doing, you stubborn man? Get back in that bed at once!”

He picked up a pair of shoes and faced her. “I’m fine, I told you.”

“You are
not
fine.” She took his arm. “Now come back to the bed—”

“No.” Shrugging off her hand, he put on the shoes. “I have to check something in my study. I’ll just be a moment.” He had to find that license, had to make sure he could marry her before she figured out the truth.

Purposefully he headed out the door. He heard her following after him and quickened his pace toward the stairs.

“Wait!” she called out.

He halted with his hand on the banister. “What is it, Katherine?”

Her voice lowered to a throaty murmur. “I know one way to keep you in bed.”

His blood roared in his ears. He turned to find her standing in the doorway, wearing a seductive smile. She couldn’t mean what he thought. Could she?

As he watched, she removed the pins from her hair, then shook it out with the mischievous look of a woman who knew she was being naughty. “Come back to bed, Alec. I promise to make it worth your while.”

His mouth went dry. Damn her. It had been two long days since he’d touched her, two long nights since he’d felt her sweet softness beneath him.

“No, you come here,” he ordered, before he lost what was left of his control. Wordlessly, she shook her head and disappeared inside the room.

“Blast it all.” He couldn’t do as she wanted—and not because of his throbbing skull, either. Making love to her with this lie between them would poison everything. Once they were married and he could tell her the truth, it would be different, but he couldn’t compound the deception by making love to her now. Perhaps he should go downstairs and stay there until supper. But she’d left the bedchamber door open,
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and the thought of Emson or one of the housemaids finding her in some state of dishevelment…

Just imagining that state of dishevelment sent his cock into instant attention. He walked back to the bedchamber in a trance. His mind might balk, but his body knew exactly what it wanted. Even if he couldn’t have it. He approached the open door, bracing himself for anything, yet he still wasn’t prepared for what he saw through the doorway—Katherine wearing only her chemise and stockings. Katherine with her hair spilling freely over her barely clad shoulders. Katherine leaning against a bedpost, her eyes a smoldering chocolate brown as she stepped out of her shoes. “Come in and close the door, Alec,” she said in a throaty voice that nearly undid him. He couldn’t move. He could only stand there staring, his eyes scouring the translucent muslin for whatever glimpses of her flesh he could get. And there were plenty, blast it. Her nut brown nipples showed dark and pouty through the fabric, and he could even see the flaming curls between her long, incredible legs.

That had to be the thinnest chemise in creation. And he could already remember how it felt to be inside her, driving hard, buried deep—

“No,” he growled, hanging on to the last bit of his self-control.

“You need to be in bed resting.”

“If I get into bed with you when you’re dressed like that, there will be no resting.”

She arched one brow. “And if you go traipsing about the house, up and down the stairs, you might pass out and injure yourself even worse. At least in bed you can’t hurt yourself.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” He changed tactics, desperate to make her put her clothes back on. “Besides, your mother will come looking foruswhen she wakes. You don’t want to shock her, do you?”

“When Mama dozes, she sleeps for hours if she’s undisturbed, especially after she’s been traveling.”

“Yes, but what if one of the servants awakens her—”

“That’s a chance we’ll have to take. What happened to Alec the rule-breaker, Alec the rakehell who doesn’t care about propriety? Come here, Alexander the Great… break some rules with me.” Casting him a sultry smile, she wriggled her chemise off her shoulders and dropped it to her waist to bare her perfect breasts. “If you want to see more, you’ll have to come inside.”

Sweet God in heaven, see more? He wanted to tear her blasted chemise off with his teeth. To hell with conscience and good intentions. This was
his
Katherine, in
his
bedchamber tempting him into
his
bed. He was only a man, and he wanted her. Striding through the doorway, he shoved the door closed behind him, then kicked off his shoes and advanced toward her in a trance. But as he neared her, she jerked her chemise back up and scampered across the bed. Before he could react, she’d raced over to the door to turn the key in the lock. “There,” she said in triumph as she knelt to slide the key under the door out of reach. “Now you
have
to stay in bed.”

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So that was her game, was it? Crafty wench. “I could call for Mrs. Brown.”

“And she’ll tell you the same thing I’m telling you—get into that bed.”

“Not without you.” He veered back toward her, stripping off his shirt and unbuttoning his trousers.

“Now that you’ve started this, you had damned well better finish it.”

“Don’t come any closer, Alec,” she warned as she left the door, giving him a wide berth, “you’ve had a bad head injury. You really need to rest.”

He dragged off his trousers and threw them aside. “Take off your chemise, and get into the bed.”

“You said you couldn’t rest like that.”

Damn it, this could go on all day, and he wasn’t in the mood to dally. Edging close to the bed, he pretended to stagger. With a cry of alarm, she hurried to his side. He grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed.

“Alec, your head—”

“You wanted me in bed, didn’t you?” he rasped as he covered her body with his. She stared up at him in alarm. “I want you to rest.”

“If you thought tempting me into bed, then abandoning me, would accomplish that, you don’t know much about men, sweetheart.” He bent his head to kiss her, but she turned her face aside, so he settled for scattering kisses over her cheek and her warm silky neck. She went limp beneath him and twined her arms about his neck. “Don’t blame me if you collapse in the morning.”

“It was your idea.” Nuzzling her ear, he then laved it with his tongue.

“I… couldn’t think… of how else to get you back in bed.”

“This is working very well.”

“But Alec—”

“Shh, sweetheart.” He nibbled her ear lobe. “I’m busy ‘resting.’ ”

A choked giggle escaped her. “Oh, Alec, I missed you and your joking so much. Did you miss me?”

“Every hour of every day since I left.” Then he captured her mouth with his. Would he ever get enough of her, of this? It was all he could do not to take her right now, part her legs and bury himself inside her. But she was still barely initiated into the pleasures of the bedroom, so he settled for kissing her with all the fervor he’d kept banked for two days. He would undoubtedly regret this later, but right now, he could no more push her away than he could stop breathing. He’d spent too many nights hungering for her, too many days craving her company.
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When he was with her like this, he forgot all his sins… except for the one of wanting and needing her, far more than was wise. He ravaged her warm mouth and plundered her supple breasts through her chemise, storing up pleasures for when she punished him for his deceptions. By the time he could bring himself to drag his lips from hers, they were both gasping for breath.

“Well,” she whispered, eyes alight, “I think you did miss me.”

He dragged up her chemise, then searched for the hot, juicy center of all her need. Reveling in the mew of a sigh she uttered when he stroked her, he muttered, “Apparently you missed me, too.”

“Only every hour of every day since you left. That’s the real reason I came here, you know.”

He didn’t want to be affected by her words, but he was. He’d never expected to find a wife who matched him desire for desire… who
needed
him. Her open affection humbled him. And scared him out of his mind. Because he at last realized
this
was what he wanted: Katherine needing him despite everything, Katherine wanting him for who he really was. Only she didn’t know who he really was. She might not love him or claim to want more than a practical marriage, but she wanted a husband she could trust. And he’d already denied her that. Once she found out…

No, he wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t. “Now that you’re here, we can marry at once. Tonight, if you want.”
If
he’d brought that license from London. “I’m sure the vicar in Ipswich would be happy to oblige us. We can send for him right away.” He couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom… that if he didn’t secure her as soon as possible, he’d lose her forever.

She gazed up at him through passion-glazed eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re getting a conscience about our… coupling before marriage. That’s not like you.”

“I want you to be mine, that’s all.”

She pulled his head down to hers. “I’m yours already.”

You won’t be if you find out the truth, he thought as he kissed her again. And that thought perversely fired his need even higher.

Sliding from the bed to shuck off his drawers, he pointed to her chemise. “You said if I came to bed, I could see the rest. Take it off, sweetheart. It was too dark in the orangery for me to see you well the last time.”