Seducing the Rake (Mad, Bad and Dangerous Heroes) (57 page)

And Chessy was tight in his arms before she even knew what had happened.

“Did I get it right?” Her eyes glittered with sudden tears.

Tony heard the tremor in her voice and it made him bleed inside. He caught her hand to his lips. “Perfect, my love. I couldn’t have done it any better myself. Of course, I’d be delighted to try. Perhaps in a slightly different spot, if you’d care to—”

“You’re sure they were right?” She ran her fingers uncertainly across the bronze skin at his shoulder. “I’ve been so embarrassed—so ashamed. All this time, and I never learned to read. I’ve always been so afraid someone would find out.” She looked up then. “Does it—do you still—”

“Love you? To distraction, I’m afraid. And something tells me you’ll soon be reading far better than I.”

“Then you don’t care? It doesn’t bother you that—”

With a groan, Tony pulled her closer.

And then he silenced her. Authoritatively. Autocratically. Completely unequivocally. His lips were hard and driving, but his hands were gentle, full of wonder at the tender discovery of her passion.

As he slid his leg to her side, Tony fought unsuccessfully to conceal a grimace of pain.

“Oh, no—is it your leg?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m afraid so. It—it appears that I’m going to need a little help, Cricket.”

Chessy pushed him back onto the bed. Her body eased atop his. “Like this?”

“Like—that.” His eyes closed as Chessy continued her slow, melting conquest of his body. At that moment the hero of Salamanca had a sudden realization: Showing an occasional bit of weakness might not be such a bad idea after all.

Especially if
this
was the result.

Abruptly, he frowned. “Wait just a minute, hellion. Exactly who is seducing
whom
here?”

“I’d say it was just about equal, your lordship.” Chessy inched lower, slowly, inexorably drawing him inside her velvet heat.

Morland went utterly still. Beads of sweat broke out upon his brow.

“Well?”

“Ummmmm.”

“Good?”

“Ahhhhhh, sweet lord.”

“Tony, I asked you if—”

Morland fought for sanity and won—just barely. “Good? Sweet heaven above, woman!
Good
isn’t
nearly
the word for how you feel against me. Your texture, your scent—yes, I think I’ll have to get myself wounded more often.”

Chessy released the breath she had been holding and gave him a roguish smile. “Ah, well, there’s no need to thank me, you know. After all, that’s what we women are for, isn’t it? To rescue our men when they get in over their head.”

Tony’s eyes promised her a devastatingly sensual revenge for that particular comment. Then his breath caught as Chessy fitted herself with aching sweetness to his awesomely aroused manhood. “Lord, woman! Now I
know
I’m dying.”

But Chessy paid no heed. At least he had given up fighting her calculated seduction. And there were so very many things she had yet to learn…

“Stubborn
—” A shudder worked through him as she sheathed him totally. “Yes, that’s the only—ahhhhh—word for you, Cricket.”

“Thank you very much, my lord.” Chessy’s eyes were shining as she felt him begin to move, deep and sure and powerful within her. “Coming from someone as stubborn as
you,
that’s an exceptional compliment.”

Without warning his fingers shifted.

Her eyes widened.

“Yes, my love. Give me the sounds of your pleasure. Take me deep. Take me to forever.”

“Oh, Tony—oh, yes, I—”

And then the first tremor began. She held him close, flung blind to the edge of madness, blind to the edge of paradise. And there she found she had no need for
any
words at all.

PART
FOUR

East of Forever

Sevenoaks

June 1819

“It really is
most
amazing, isn’t it?” The Duchess of Cranford stood surveying the guests thronging the broad green lawns of Sevenoaks. “I sometimes wonder if I know
half
these people.”

“Of course you do.” Beside the duchess a striking woman with amethyst eyes turned her head with a smile. “Anyway, what does it matter? They certainly know
you,
my dear Amelia.”

As if to prove the truth of this, a laughing couple hailed the duchess as they moved toward the buffet tables set up beneath a gaily striped tent of crimson and white.

The duchess harrumphed. “I never saw
those
two in my life! Besides, the fellow’s wearing stays.
Stays,
my dear Lizzie! I can hear the man creaking from here!”

Mrs. James Cameron patted her hand soothingly. “Well, my dear, not all of us are blessed with such a willowy figure as yours.”

The duchess slanted her glowing companion a shrewd look. “I haven’t seen your husband showing any dissatisfaction with
your
figure, my dear. It was rather a nice idea to have Chessy wear your wedding gown, by the way. She looked quite lovely in the old style. So much more elegant than these bits of nothing women wear today.”

“Yes, she was beautiful, wasn’t she? All those yards of white satin, and those lovely flowing lace sleeves set with seed pearls. I designed that dress myself, you know.” Her gaze wandered over the milling crowds on the lawn.

“Humph. Morland certainly thought it was beautiful. If you ask me, the man looked positively wolfish during the ceremony. So did that husband of
yours,
come to think of it!”

Lizzie’s eyes crinkled. “He did, didn’t he?” She sighed. “Did James tell you that we’re going to repeat our vows next week? He even asked that I wear my old gown. He is really the most romantic man.” She sighed again. “And did I mention that he—”

The duchess raised an imperious hand. “No, you didn’t, and I don’t wish to hear either. Not one more word about that man’s Don Juan ways.”

Chessy’s mother barely heard. She was too busy searching the crowd for her distinguished husband.

The change that came over her when she finally saw him was electric. Her eyes grew bright and her cheeks took on a becoming blush.

“Why, Lizzie Granville, you’re blushing like a chit fresh out of the schoolroom!” This bit of censure only made Mrs. Cameron’s color rage higher.

At that moment James Cameron strode up, two crystal goblets in hand. The first he offered to the duchess, who accepted it grudgingly. The second was presented to his wife, with a most handsome bow.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to call her Mrs. Cameron from now on, Your Grace. It’s been a long time since she was Miss Granville, you know.”

His wife dimpled as he touched his goblet to hers, offering a silent toast.

“Humph! It’s all moonbeams and magic with you two! Next thing you’ll be telling me there’s a child on the way.” As James Cameron gave her an arrested look, the duchess held up a papery hand. “No, I don’t want to hear about it! It’s your daughter I’m looking for. And that scapegrace husband of hers.”

Cameron hid a smile. “I believe they have left, Your Grace.”

“Left! But I haven’t had a chance to—” The white-haired duchess cleared her throat. “Ah well, I suppose it can wait.” Her eyes narrowed on a crowd of women who were gathered at one end of the buffet, tittering loudly. “What in the world are those silly females making such a fuss about?”

At that moment the throng of gaudy parasols parted to reveal a lean-limbed man in crisp black worsted. His eyes were an arresting tone of gold-flecked amber, and his skin was exactly the shade of the dragon pendant of burnished bronze that hung at his neck.

“So that’s Chessy’s warrior. Even in English dress he looks exotic. And ferocious. Nearly as ruthless as that dragon he wears around his neck.”

“I suppose he can be. Actually, no one knows very much about his past,” Cameron added. “He says next to nothing about himself.”

The duchess looked thoughtful. “He doesn’t even notice, does he?”

“Notice what?”

“How the women fawn over him, following his every word and gesture. He actually seems oblivious. Chessy told me he’s always been like that. Do you know, for a while I actually thought the man was in love with
her.”

 
“So he was,” Cameron said softly. “Once.” He shrugged. “But it appears he’s gotten over it.”

“Either that or he gives an impeccable performance.” The duchess fingered a lace frill at her sleeve. “I wonder…”

“Now, Amelia.” Lizzie Granville slanted a worried look at her friend. “You know it’s not a good idea to interfere in other people’s lives.”

“Oh, posh! At my age, what else is there for me to do?”

“Any number of things! You just can’t go around pulling people’s strings and making secret plans for them. It only brings pain and—”

But the duchess was not listening. Her thoughts were already moving to her next scheme. And Lizzie Granville Cameron never finished her admonition anyway, because her husband began to tug her toward the maze that beckoned cool and green at the far side of the lawns.

“But James, we can’t!”

“And why not, woman?”

“Because—because it’s broad daylight. Because we have a wedding to celebrate. Our daughter’s wedding!”

“I have my own way of celebrating.”

“But Chessy—”

“Tony will keep our Chessy busy, my love, never you fear.”

“Then—you know where they went?”

“Let’s just say I have a fair idea. Now forget about those two children. They’ve plagued us quite enough. We’ve got business of our own to attend to.”

“We do?”

“We do.” He gave her a smoky look.

“Oh, James. I couldn’t possibly—”

He cut her off by tugging her into the screening lanes of clipped yew. At the maze’s first turning he caught her close and slid his fingers into her lustrous chestnut hair.

It was flecked with white now, but the effect was extraordinarily becoming, he decided. “I hate you in pins. Why do you wear the bloody things?” With one tug he sent the carved bits of tortoiseshell flying. “There, that’s infinitely better.”

“Really, James, one would think you were naught but a reckless boy of sixteen!”

He gave her a devilish smile as he inched her back against the wall of foliage. “Do you mean to tell me I’m not? Ah, but when I’m with
you,
Lizzie, I surely feel like one.”

And then his hands circled her waist. His lips nibbled their way over hers.

“Oh, James—”

“Hush, wife.”

This time she did. And the next sound to be heard in the yew maze came from him.

Groaning as she slid close and kissed him back—with what James Cameron decided was a most delightful want of propriety.

~ ~ ~

 “That does it! Dash it, I don’t see the boy anywhere!” Frowning, Sir Reginald Fortesque watched Chessy’s mother and father slip off into the maze. “He’s not with the countess’s parents, for they’ve just snuck off into the greenery. Smelling of April and May themselves, I might add.”