Rendezvous (16 page)

“Do you like that, my reckless little hoyden?” Harry’s voice was husky as he began to unfasten her shirt.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to kiss me and go on kissing me forever. I vow it is the most fascinating experience, my lord.”

“I am very glad you find it so.”

Then his hand was sliding inside the open shirt and cupping her bare breast. Augusta closed her eyes and sucked in her breath as Harry’s thumb circled her nipple.

“My God,” Harry whispered thickly. “Like the sweetest of ripe fruit.”

Then he lowered his head to take the rosy bud into his mouth and Augusta moaned in response.

“Hush, love,” he muttered, his hand moving down to the fastening of her trousers.

Dimly Augusta realized they were in a carriage somewhere on a busy street and that Scruggs was only a few feet away, blissfully unaware of what was happening inside the cab. She knew she should keep silent, but she could not swallow each tiny gasp of surprise. Harry’s touch made her body sing with pleasure. An unbearable eagerness was rippling through her, creating a tension that was too new and too strange to deal with in complete silence.

When she felt Harry’s fingers inside her open trousers, searching out the warm secrets between her thighs, Augusta caught her breath and cried out softly. “Oh,
Harry
.”

Harry responded with a groan that was half laughter and half oath. “Silence, sweetheart. You must have a care, love.”

“I am sorry, but I cannot seem to keep quiet when you touch me like that. It feels so very odd, Harry. I vow I have never felt anything like it.”

“Damnation, woman. You do not have an inkling of what you are doing to me, do you?” Harry shifted, changing position quickly. He swung the greatcoat off his shoulders and spread it on the green cushions. Then he moved again, stretching Augusta out on the coat. Her knees were raised because of the close quarters.

When Augusta opened her eyes, Harry was crouched beside her. He bent over her, opening her shirt with feverish impatience to bare her breasts.

Augusta was just growing accustomed to the touch of his hand on her upper body when she became aware of the fact that Harry was jerking off her shoes and tugging her trousers down over her thighs.

“My lord? What are you doing?” She stirred restlessly on the cushion, half lost in the daze of sensual awareness that was enveloping her. Harry’s warm hand cupped her softness with shocking intimacy and she trembled.

“Tell me again that you want me,” he muttered against her breast.

“I want you. I have never wanted anything so much in
my life.” She arched against his hand and heard him groan. All thought of protest faded away once more, to be replaced by a spiraling need. She cried out again and Harry’s mouth was suddenly back on hers, silencing her gently.

Augusta shuddered as she felt him shift position once again. He was on his knees between her legs now. She realized he was fumbling quickly with his breeches.

“Harry?”

“Hush, love. Hush.”

She gasped as his weight came down on top of her, crushing her into the cushions. He had settled himself between her thighs before she fully realized what he intended.

His fingers slid down between their bodies, stroking her urgently, parting her. “Yes, love. That’s it. Yes. Open yourself for me. Just like that. Lord, you are soft. Soft and moist for me. Let me feel you, darling.”

The husky, coaxing words spilled over her. Augusta felt something hard and unyielding pushing slowly but steadily against her softness.

Panic flared for an instant. She should stop him, she thought vaguely. He would surely regret this in the morning, perhaps blame her again, just as he had last time. “Harry, I do not think we should do this. You will think me wanton.”

“No, love. I will think you very sweet. Very soft.”

“You will say I encouraged you.” She gasped as he pressed harder. “You will say I made certain promises again.”

“The promises have already been made and they will be kept. You belong to me, Augusta. We are engaged. You have nothing to fear by giving yourself to the man who will be your husband.”

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely certain. Put your arms around me, love,” Harry muttered against her mouth. “Hold me. Take me fully inside you. Show me that you truly want me.”

“Oh, Harry, I do want you. And if you are certain you want me, if you will not think me sadly lacking in virtue—”

“I want you, Augusta. God knows I want you so badly I do not believe I will survive until morning if I do not have you tonight. Nothing has ever felt so right.”

“Oh,
Harry
.” He wanted her, Augusta thought, dazzled by the realization. He needed her desperately. And she longed to surrender herself to him; she ached to discover what it would feel like to be possessed by him.

Augusta’s arms tightened around his neck and she lifted herself tentatively into his strength.

It was all the encouragement Harry needed.

“God, yes, Augusta.
Yes
.” His mouth fastened on hers as he thrust heavily into her.

Augusta, poised on the brink of a blazing sensual awareness, felt as if someone had suddenly tossed her into an icy cold pond. The shock of the intimate invasion roared through her.
This was not what she had been expecting
.

She gasped and cried out in surprise and dismay. The protest was no more than a muffled squeak, however, because Harry kept his mouth clamped savagely over hers. He swallowed her small exclamations, soothing her with his kiss. Neither of them moved.

Harry lifted his head cautiously after a moment. The soft light of the carriage lamp revealed the perspiration on his forehead and his tightly clenched jaw.

“Harry?”

“Easy, love, easy. ’Twill be all right in a moment or two. Forgive me, sweet, for rushing matters so.” He dropped hot, urgent kisses along her cheeks and down her throat. His hands gripped her tightly. “You have made me drunk with desire and like any drunkard I have blundered about in a clumsy fashion when I should have used more grace and skill.”

Augusta did not respond. She was too busy adjusting to the strange sensation of having Harry deep inside her.

For a timeless moment Harry continued to lay absolutely still on top of her. Augusta could feel the rigid tension in him as he held himself in check.

“Augusta?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Are you all right, love?” he demanded through set teeth. He sounded as though he were exercising every ounce of self-control he possessed.

“Yes. I think so.” Augusta frowned as her body slowly grew accustomed to the impossibly tight, impossibly stretched sensation. Nothing had ever felt like this.

At that moment the coach bounced mightily as a wheel struck a hole in the street. Harry was driven even more deeply inside Augusta by the unexpected motion. He groaned. Augusta gasped.

Harry muttered something under his breath and rested his forehead on Augusta’s. “It will get better. I give you my word on that, Augusta. You are so sweet, so responsive. Look at me, sweetheart.” He cradled her face between his palms. “Damn it, Augusta, open your eyes and look at me.
Tell me you still want me
. The last thing I Wanted to do was hurt you.”

She obeyed, lifting her lashes to survey his stark face. She realized that even as he fought to hold himself in check, he was chastising himself for having caused her discomfort. She smiled gently, deeply touched by his tender consideration. No wonder she loved him, she thought suddenly.

“Do not fret yourself, Harry. It is not that bad, truly. I doubt any real damage has been done. Not all adventures go smoothly, as we both discovered this evening in Lovejoy’s library.”

“Good God, Augusta. Whatever am I going to do with you?” Harry buried his face in the curve of her throat and began to move inside her.

Augusta did not particularly care for the new sensation at first, but she was slowly starting to change her mind—
was, in fact, even beginning to find it all quite tolerable—when it was suddenly over.

“
Augusta
.” Harry surged into her one last time, arched his back, and went violently rigid. Augusta was fascinated by the taut strength of him and the feral expression of raw masculine power on his hard face. She realized he was gritting his teeth against a hoarse shout and then he groaned and collapsed heavily against her.

For a moment there was only the steady jostling of the carriage and the distant sounds out in the street. Augusta stroked Harry’s back soothingly as she listened to him drawing in great, ragged gulps of air. She decided she liked the warm, heavy feel of him lying on top of her, even though he was crushing her into the cushions. She even liked the scent of him. There was something unmistakably and utterly masculine about it.

Most of all, she liked the strange intimacy of the situation. She felt almost a part of Harry now, she realized. It was as if they had both given something of themselves to each other and were now bound in some indefinable way that had nothing to do with the formalities of an engagement.

It took Augusta a few seconds to identify just what she was feeling and then she had it. It was a joyous sense of belonging. She and Harry were together now, as if tonight they had created the foundation of a new family. A family to which she could fully belong.

“Christ,” Harry muttered. “I don’t believe this.”

“Harry,” Augusta murmured thoughtfully, “will we do this a great deal during the next four months of our engagement, do you think? If so, we might have to arrange for a different coachman.” She giggled softly. “I cannot see Scruggs agreeing to drive us around the city every night, can you? His rheumatism, you know.”

Harry went still. His head came up abruptly and there was a distinctly stunned look in his eyes. When he spoke,
all trace of a lover’s warmth and urgency was gone from his voice. “
Four months
. Damnation. ’Tis impossible.”

What is wrong, my lord?”

He lifted himself away from her, running his fingers through his tousled hair. “Nothing that cannot be remedied. I need a few minutes to think. Sit up, Augusta. Hurry. I am sorry to rush you, but you must get dressed.”

Harry’s impatient, commanding tone succeeded in squelching much of the lingering sense of intimacy Augusta had been feeling. She winced as she awkwardly levered herself into an upright position and began fumbling with her clothing.

“Really, Harry. I do not understand you. Why are you so angry?” Augusta’s fingers stilled on her clothing as a sudden horrible thought struck her. “Are you going to blame me, after all, for what happened a few minutes ago?”

“Damn it to hell, I am not angry with you, Augusta. At least, not about this.” He gestured brusquely to indicate the interior of the carriage and all that had taken place within it. “The business of breaking into Lovejoy’s house is another matter entirely and I do not intend to let it drop.”

He fastened his breeches, straightened his shirt, and then reached out to assist her in getting back into her clothes. His hand stilled briefly on her thigh.

Augusta smiled as she sensed that he was torn between conflicting emotions. “Yes, my lord? Did you want something more?”

“A great deal more.” He shook his head grimly as he adjusted her trousers. “And I shall never last another four months before I take it again, that is for certain.”

“Then we shall be doing this frequently, my lord?”

He glanced up and there was no mistaking the sensual promise in his eyes. “No doubt. But not in some bloody damn carriage in the middle of London. Here, fix your shirt, Augusta.” He started to fasten it for her. “I shall procure a special license as quickly as possible and we shall be married in a day or two.”

“
Married
. By special license?” Augusta stared at him. She could not seem to get her thoughts straight. Everything was happening too fast. “Oh, no, Harry. What about our engagement?”

“I am afraid ours is destined to be one of the shorter betrothals on record. Just as short as I can make it, in fact.”

“The thing is, I am not at all certain I want it shortened.”

“Your feelings on the matter are no longer of any great significance,” he told her gently. “I have just made love to you and will no doubt be tempted to do so again in the very near future. We shall therefore get married immediately. I am not going to wait four months to have you again, that much is a certainty. I would not survive the torture.”

“But, Harry—”

He held up a hand to silence her. “Enough. Not another word. The matter is settled. This situation is entirely of my own doing and I will do what must be done.”

“Well, as to that,” Augusta said thoughtfully, “I do not think you can say it was entirely your fault. You have mentioned on several occasions that my own sense of propriety is sadly lacking in many respects and everyone knows I am inclined to be somewhat reckless. This is partly my fault, Harry. In fact,” she added in chagrin as she thought of what Claudia’s reaction would be to this news, “some people would be of the opinion that it is all my fault.”

“I said I did not want to hear another word about it.” Harry started to sweep up his greatcoat from the seat of the carnage and paused to stare down at the small, damp stains on it. He drew a deep breath.

“Is something wrong, Harry?”

“My apologies, Augusta.” His voice was gruff. “I had no right to take advantage of you tonight. I do not know what happened to my self-control. You deserved a proper bed and all the trappings of a honeymoon for your first experience of lovemaking.”

“Do not fret about it, sir. To tell you the truth, this was a rather exciting way to begin the whole business.” She pushed aside the curtain that covered the window and gazed out into the street. “I wonder how many of those other carriages out there contain couples doing exactly what we were just doing?”

“One shudders to even contemplate the notion.” Harry shoved open the trapdoor in the roof with his ebony walking stick. “Scruggs, take us back to Lady Arbuthnott’s immediately.”

“About time,” Scruggs growled from the box. “Left it a bit late, didn’t you, sir?”