Surrender the Stars (47 page)

"Oh, God," Ryan uttered in stricken tones. In an instant, he vaulted from Simon's back to the muddy ground and reached up to catch Lindsay in his arms. To the approaching stableboy, he shouted, "Take care of these horses! We'll be staying the night. See to it that they're fed and kept warm and dry!"

Through a haze of cold, shivering misery, Lindsay was vaguely conscious of Ryan cradling her in his arms as he made his way toward the alehouse. If she had been able, she would have smiled.

* * *

"This is just an alehouse, not a proper inn!" cried the proprietor, a mountainous, red-faced man called Sedgwick. "We only let two rooms and they're both taken!"

Ryan was seated on a bench against one scarred stone wall and Lindsay occupied his lap. Her face was pressed to the curve where his neck and shoulder joined. "Look here, sir, I'll be happy to pay you handsomely if you can provide lodgings for my wife and me. Can't you see she's ill? I couldn't possibly take her back out into that storm."

"Don't see why you had her out on a horse rather than in a closed stage, but then you didn't ask me, did you?"

Mrs. Sedgwick came scurrying across the taproom with two mugs of steaming tea laced with brandy and cinnamon. "Poor lass!" she cried over the noise of the storm. "Can you drink a little of this, Mrs...."

"Coleraine," Ryan supplied.

A certain note of tenderness in his voice roused her. Still shivering in Ryan's arms, Lindsay reached for the mug and sipped tentatively. It seemed to be more brandy than tea, but it certainly warmed her. Slowly, as she drank, her shivering ceased.

"This little lass is going to have a hot bath and a warm bed tonight!" Mrs. Sedgwick declared, ignoring her husband. "My sister and her family have a nice, cozy cottage next door. They're away in Plymouth for the whole of June. You can stay there."

"That's very kind of you," Ryan said.

"The pair of you stay right there while I run over and put some supper on and some water to heat for a bath." She glanced at her husband. "You come along and light a fire."

By the time the Sedgwicks returned, Lindsay was feeling greatly restored. Ryan didn't talk to her, but he did keep one arm curved around her and the angry stiffness was gone from his body. For her part, she drank her "tea" and enjoyed the glow that spread over her. When Mrs. Sedgwick reappeared, her mobcap slightly askew, Lindsay was on the verge of dozing off.

"Everything's ready for you, and your horses are being looked after, too. Can you walk, Mrs. Coleraine?"

"I think so." She gave the old woman a slightly woozy smile. "You're very kind!"

Ryan helped her to her feet and kept one arm around her waist for support as they exited through the back door and followed the Sedgwicks' directions through the rain to a half-timbered cottage with golden light at each window.

* * *

"Feeling better?"

Lindsay looked up in the act of swallowing the last spoonful of oxtail soup to see Ryan pour another bucket of steaming water into the tub before the fireplace. "I was hungry."

He inclined his dark head toward her coat, which hung on a peg by the door. "I can see why after peeking inside those pockets. No wonder you were so weak."

Lowering her lashes under his regard, she murmured, "I wasn't feeling quite the thing today."

Ryan's eyes closed for a moment. "Well." His relieved tone was husky with emotion. "I'm glad that you're better. After a hot bath and a good night's sleep, you should be your old self tomorrow."

"An incurable termagant?"

"I'd settle for a brat," Ryan replied softly.

"Oh, oh..." Lindsay rose shakily and walked into his arms, weeping. "I thought I'd never hear you call me that again!"

"Shh, angel." He stroked her damp hair and found that his own hands were trembling. "I was a beast. Have you any idea how I felt when I saw you, soaking wet and faint, clinging to that mare's neck? I deserve to be shot for the way I treated you today!"

"No, you were absolutely right! I was very, very bad to ignore all that you said to me in London. It was terribly selfish and foolish of me, and I wouldn't blame you if you never spoke to me again!"

Suddenly, in the midst of their mutual apologies, their eyes met and they began to laugh, clinging to each other. Then Ryan was kissing Lindsay and stripping off her clothes.

"I think we've said enough for now. Let's have that bath before it gets cold."

Lindsay's eyes sparkled with delight. "You're coming in with me?" Then she blushed as his dark fingers opened her shirt, baring her creamy, rose-tipped breasts.

Ryan covered them with his palms. "You're so cold, angel. Come on." With that, he unfastened her breeches and stripped them away. Sensing Lindsay's shyness, he tried not to look but lifted her up and gently placed her in the tub.

"Oh, my!" She gasped. "It feels
wonderful.
Is there soap?" Accepting the bar he handed her, she concentrated on lathering her arms and tried not to stare as Ryan undressed.

Still, it was impossible to ignore the bronzed, sculpted beauty of his physique. His legs were long and solid with muscle, his chest hard and tapering. Lindsay tried not to see what was in between. Her face was burning as he eased into the bathtub opposite her, but Ryan held out his arms.

"Come here, angel."

Her embarrassment melted away under the heat of his love. Even the sensation of his manhood against her belly as she leaned against him felt endearing somehow. "Oh, Ryan, I've missed you so!" Suddenly, she began to cry.

"Oh, God, please don't!" he begged. "I feel guilty enough as it is." Lifting her face to his lips, he tasted salty tears. "Lindsay, my darling, you know that I would rather die than cause you distress, but—" He shook his head. "I was so angry."

"I deserved to be taught a lesson," she insisted, gulping back her sobs. "You were absolutely right, Ryan! I thought about it a great deal today, when I feared that you didn't love me anymore, and I don't intend to forget it. If you had chuckled and forgiven me when I revealed myself to you last night, I don't doubt that I would have been completely incorrigible for the duration of our marriage!" Seeing his sudden white grin, she laughed herself and paused to kiss him. "It's true. Since meeting you in Pettipauge, I've come out of myself to a remarkable degree. I've always been very confident, but since my best friends were books, I was unschooled when it came to people. You've always known that, yet you learned to love me, anyway. That took a tremendous leap of faith on your part!"

"It wasn't conscious, I assure you. I simply fell in love with you, Lindsay." His strong arms slid around her back in the water, lifting her up so that their eyes met. For an instant, his dark head dipped and he kissed the wet curve of her breast, then came up to smile into her eyes. "Do you want me to be honest?"

She winced slightly. "Of course!"

"I love you more than my own life, angel, but that doesn't mean I love everything that you do. That's natural, isn't it? I'm certain there must be things that I do that rub you the wrong way, too."

She nodded with certainty while trying to remember even one of his flaws.

"When I realized that I loved you and then, later, that I wanted to spend my life with you, I also had to realize that I couldn't expect to change you—"

"Are there a
lot
of things I do that bother you?" Lindsay interrupted.

"Of course not!" He laughed. "I'm speaking of this contrary streak you have. You demanded to know the other night whether I intend to be your master, and today I had to think about that. It would be a crime to try to master a woman of your rare spirit, but at the same time we will have to work out a partnership that involves compromise and, above all, honesty."

She pressed her nose to his broad, wet shoulder. "I know. You're absolutely right! Today I learned my lesson."

"And I learned mine. Now, let's have our bath." Ryan searched for the soap in the water, teasing her with his fingertips in the process.

Lindsay was nearly dizzy with happiness. Staring at his splendid face, which had been so harsh and forbidding all day long, she felt overcome with love. "Can we hurry? I want to go to bed!"

His right brow curved upward suggestively. "Tired? Be patient. We'll tuck you up very soon."

Running slim hands over Ryan's shoulders and down the muscled contours of his chest, Lindsay smiled, catlike, "Oh, good. I can't wait...."

Chapter 33

Jane 27-29, 1814

Firelight burnished each strand of Lindsay's hair as Ryan brushed it; some were coppery, some gold, and some a soft shade of apricot. She sat in front of him, clad only in a clean, unbuttoned shirt, her head lolling in complete relaxation.

For Ryan's part, desire grew with each passing minute. Why did females have to wear their hair long, so impossibly long? It seemed to take hours for it to dry! Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, Ryan pushed upward with splayed fingers and was relieved to find that her beautiful curls at last felt dry to the touch.

Lindsay's head dropped back against his hand, completely limp. As he leaned forward to look at her face, she emitted a ladylike snore. His own eyes widening with frustration, Ryan cradled her against him and sighed. Lindsay responded by snuggling against his chest.

The perfect lover, he carried her off to bed and covered her with blankets, then stared down at her face with a sigh. Ryan told himself that she probably hadn't slept much the night before and that the past two days had been extremely tiring, yet he couldn't quite suppress the arousal that coursed through his body. How beautiful she was! Asleep, Lindsay actually did look like an angel; he'd thought it the first time he saw her thus, after her fall on board
La Mouette.
Her thick lashes swept finely delineated cheekbones that never quite lost their rosy glow. Lindsay's nose was perfect and delicate, and her mouth...

Leaning over, Ryan brushed it with the tip of his forefinger. Its slightly pouting quality did hint at innocence, but he knew better. Those lips were the most sensual and instinctive he'd ever kissed.

After tracing the fine line of her jaw, he shed his breeches and climbed into bed beside her. Lindsay murmured contentedly and snuggled against him. Ryan's own expression was pained yet amused as he gathered her near and stroked stray tendrils back from her brow. In her sleep, Lindsay puckered her lips and he kissed them.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Mmmm." She smiled, burrowing against his chest.

* * *

The first tangerine-lavender rays of dawn were filtering through the muslin bedhangings when Ryan awoke. At first he thought a spider might be making its way up his leg, but then he realized that it was Lindsay's hand.

"Are you awake?" she asked. "I've been staring at you forever. Oh, Ryan, I love you so!"

"You do?" he inquired with sleepy amusement. "Enough to let me clean my teeth?"

She stared in wonderment as he climbed naked from the bed. "I've made tea if you want a cup."

Laughing, he glanced back at her with one black brow arched and took in her bare shoulders above the blankets. "Don't be absurd.
Tea?
When I could have you?"

Lindsay felt faint with longing and happiness. It seemed to her that if they had overcome this first huge quarrel so successfully, nothing could ever come between them again. When Ryan returned, still swishing water in his mouth, she took one look at his hard-muscled physique and held her arms open. He pulled back the covers to reveal her body and she scarcely flinched.

"Do you know what a beautiful woman you are?" he inquired huskily.

"I haven't had occasion to hear it before." Lindsay giggled.

"Shh." Ryan lowered his bronzed, powerful body until it barely touched her softer, cream-tinted form. "Oh, Christ, Lindsay, you do try my powers of forbearance!"

"Why?" she inquired, all innocence. "There's no reason for it! All I want is for you to make love to me!"

For an instant, his blue eyes widened in astonishment, then he laughed aloud and kissed her. She tasted clean and sweet. Lindsay's arms twined around his broad shoulders, her fingers sinking into the curls at the back of his neck. They kissed ravenously for long minutes, tasting and plundering each other's mouths. Ryan's hands slid from the sides of her face down to cup her breasts, then caressed the curves of her hips. Meanwhile, he kissed every inch of her face: brow, eyelids, cheekbones, nose, ears, and chin.

"Have I mentioned that I love you?"

"Why don't you show me?" she teased softly.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth blazed a fiery path down her throat, savoring every inch, then lingered over each breast. The sensations were still a surprise to Lindsay. She bit her lip in sheer ecstasy as he skillfully used his warm, wet, evocative mouth to tantalize her nipples. Strong currents of arousal traveled down to the place between her legs until she ached for him.

The first time they made love had seemed almost a fantasy. The wine, the fire, the shadows, the subterfuge had all lent an air of unreality to their coupling on the sitting-room rug at Grimley Court. This time, though, the fantasy was different. Lindsay could almost pretend that they were married. Mellow shafts of sunlight bathed their naked forms and both of them were completely sober and aware of each touch and its meaning.