The Vicar's Frozen Heart (16 page)

Sighing, she buttered the other half of her scone, the conversation around her fading from her earshot. It would be a lot to take on. What would a vicar’s wife do, exactly? Why not a governess and a vicar? She had asked herself this question more than once. They would be a good match intellectually, already they’d proven it. If last night was any indication, they would be a very good match in bed. For a true loving and passionate partnership, she could put up with most anything, even being a vicar’s wife. She would attend services as long as she could stare at him. Accompany him on visits, smile and drink tea, knowing at night and in bed, he would be hers and hers alone.

“Miss Winston?”

Eliza started, pulled from her girlish daydreams. “Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Mr. Dibley will be attending the funeral at noon to represent the viscount, should any of us go?” Anna asked.

“Perhaps. Did you know Mrs. Treacher?”

Anna smiled. “Aye. More when we were girls. The village was abuzz when she caught Jacob Treacher. You couldn’t find a finer looking man in the area. Well, except for maybe the vicar.” Anna blushed.

Well
. A thin but lethal stab of jealousy lodged under her ribs. How tempted she was to break the jar of strawberry jam over the maid’s head.

“Give over, you moony gel.” The cook laughed. “As if he’d look yer way. Clear the table now, and sharpish.”

Anna shrugged and reached for the empty plates. “I don’t want the man, he be too stiff and cold for me. All I’m saying is he is good-looking.”

Eliza agreed with Anna on that point, but she was dead wrong on the stiff and cold part. “Since you knew Mrs. Treacher, perhaps you should go with Mr. Dibley to the funeral.”

Anna flushed. Ah. So the maid harbored a
tendre
for the land steward? Couldn’t blame her. He was also an attractive man. Why not? A little above her station, but no more than a vicar was above a governess. One thing she believed was that people from vastly different social classes would never be able to make a go of it. Too many obstacles. Too much heartache. How fortunate she and Tremain did not have to be concerned about such a scenario.

Popping the last of her scone into her mouth, she stood. “I’ll let Mr. Dibley know you will accompany him.”

Anna blushed again and smiled. “Thank you, Miss.”

Making her way upstairs, she thought of tonight’s rendezvous. As frightening as the prospect seemed, she would lay her feelings bare to Tremain and let events unfold as they may.

A hellish day.
Tremain sat by the fire, a glass of scotch clutched tightly in his hand. In between glancing at the clock, awaiting Eliza’s arrival, he sipped it and wondered if inviting her here was a wise plan. Fingering the unopened correspondence on his desk, he dug through the pile until he recognized the handwriting. Spencer? Tremain did reply to his parents’ letters some weeks back, but didn’t expect to receive one from Spence. Wasn’t he cloistered away at the hunting lodge in Wales, deep in research? How his gregarious parents managed to spawn such eccentric sons was indeed puzzling.

Sliding the opener under the flap, he removed the letter and unfolded it. Brief and to the point, such was typical of Spence. No pleasantries or wasted information.

Tremain. I found
Her
. The one. My Phil. I departed Wales in early January and am now in residence at Penhaven with Philomena McGrattan. I’ve written mother and father and also to Harry, to let you all know Phil and I are to be married on May the Second here at Penhaven. It will be a private affair. Family only. I want you here as my best man. And you are. The best man and friend a brother could have.

I love her. And beyond all sense, she loves me too.

This Tremain did not expect.
Spence. In love.
Philomena must be a special woman indeed to be able to handle Spence and all his foibles, strange ways, and moods. Of the brothers to find love first, he did not expect it to be Spence. Nevertheless, he was delighted at the news. He tapped the letter against his chin and his thoughts turned to Eliza.

The past couple of days he’d believed himself ready to engage in a relationship with her, but the brief horror of being pulled into his war terror during his waking hours made him re-examine his decision. For a moment, he considered turning her away tonight, but it would no doubt exhaust her patience with him. How any woman could endure his coldness lay beyond his comprehension. He dismissed his doubts, eager to move forward.

Eliza saw past the emotional part of his disguise, but not the rest. At some point he would have to tell her his true identity. However, not tonight. After today’s tragedy, he merely wanted to lose himself in her softness and hopefully be able to make love to her the way he wished. Although the physical pain still lingered, it did not insistently pick and dig at him. The plaster helped, but the respite was temporary at best. Hopefully it would last long enough that he did not make a hash of this.

Last night was a revelation. At first he thought the heightened emotions stemmed from the fact he’d not been with a woman in more than three years. But ruminating over his past affair with Lady Trimly, he came to realize the time spent with his mistress meant nothing and left him empty. Most times they argued and it seemed to inflame her lust, especially when she slapped him and stoked his anger and ultimately her desire. Her ladyship would then beg him to take her, rough and hard. During the length of their affair, he indulged her fantasies in all ways with bondage and domination on both sides. He never had such a bold and unscrupulous lover before and it had intrigued him.

The flame blew out quickly on his end. When she suggested inviting other people into the bedroom with them, the titillation moved their affair to a new level. He was willing to try just about anything. But when Samantha brought a young man and woman in the room and demanded he do certain things to the couple--in particular the male--while she watched, he promptly departed. He’d reached his level of licentiousness. Luckily the war intervened and he took the opportunity to end things between them, claiming it was unfair of her to wait for his return. In truth, he was relieved to shunt her. Like scrubbing off a particularly dirty layer of grime from his skin.

In truth, he considered himself a passionate man. He’d always enjoyed sex. In between his stints in the army, he often enjoyed the company of various women. He’d even gone on a few adventures to high-end brothels with Harrison. But at thirty-one years of age, he no longer wanted brief, empty affairs. He could no longer deny his feelings for Eliza nor push her away. If Spence could embrace love, surely he could as well. Yes, he was lonely, but his reasons for allowing them to move forward were far more complicated.

Disclosure. Honesty. He should bare his soul and confess to the fact he was Viscount Hawkestone, the son of the Duke of Gransford, and not a modest, country vicar. But the conversation was not one he was capable of having this night.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Eliza was early. After setting Spence’s letter on the table, he rose slowly from his chair, clasped his cane, and hobbled to the door. After opening it, the rush of emotions that flooded him at seeing her nearly buckled his knees. He’d never felt this level of intensity for any woman. The cane clattered to the floor as he pulled her into an embrace, her softness and warmth immediately soothed and aroused him.

She hugged him back, rubbing against him, and uttering a husky moan. “We might be seen.”

“I no longer care,” he whispered hoarsely. To prove the point, he gave her a devastating kiss fill with urgency and need. He stepped back, bringing her with him, not breaking the connection, and kicked the door shut with his boot.

How he wished he could gather her up in his arms and carry her to his bed, but he dare not try. Instead he broke the kiss and divested her of her cloak, letting it fall to the floor. “Not a barmaid tonight?” he teased.

“No, but I am wearing nothing under this modest gown.”

He groaned and kissed her again, cupping her face to hold her still while he ravished her mouth. Finally he pulled back, both of them breathing hard. Clasping her arm gently, he pulled her toward his room, limping, but managing to stay on his feet. Once inside, he kissed her again, more fervently than before, if that were possible. “I need to see you naked,” his voice rumbled.

Eliza stepped back and reached in the side pocket of her gown and held out a small tin to him. “Sheaths. I would not let the earl’s son near me until he produced some. He gifted me with quite a few. Heavens, I should not have brought him into this room with us. I am sorry.” She flushed, clearly embarrassed.

He took the tin and placed it on the bedside table. Turning back to face her, he smiled. “My sweet, I could fill this room with my past lovers. They mean nothing to me. Just as the earl’s son means nothing to you. Correct?”

She cupped his cheek. “No. Nothing at all. But you, Trey, mean everything.”

The fact she used his nickname made his heart clench. “As do you. No woman has made me feel this way before. Let us banish past experiences. It was not my intent to brag about my previous dalliances. I merely wished to convey none of them touched my heart as you do. Tonight is about us and no one else. Agreed?”

She nodded as she unbuttoned her gown. It pooled at her feet, leaving her gloriously naked. With a groan, he hardened further. Her alabaster skin gleamed from the firelight and subdued illumination from the gas lamp in the corner of the room. Abundant curves, full breasts, and long, coltish legs stirred his desire to unknown heights. Freckles dotted various parts of her lush body and he vowed to become acquainted with each and every one of them. “You are stunning. Utterly beautiful,” he murmured with awe.

“Let me see all of you. I want to savor the glorious vision. Take off your clothes.”

First, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. Toeing off his shoes, he kicked them aside. He didn’t wear hose or undergarments tonight. She watched him, her heated gaze riveted on him slowly unbuttoning his trousers. Again, a twinge of self-consciousness flooded him, concerning his injury and how it may affect his performance. His slight hesitation caused her to step before him and assist him in pulling down his trousers. His erection sprang free, standing straight up on his abdomen.

“You are magnificent. In all ways.” As if fascinated, she gripped him, causing him to groan. She gave his cock a couple of strokes and cupped his heavy sac with her other hand; with her mouth she explored his chest, her tongue licking one of his nipples. “I want you to do wild and wicked things to me. Things I don’t quite understand but long for nonetheless.”

He could happily die here and now. They reached for each other at the same time, kissing and touching, naked skin to naked skin. Tumbling onto his large bed, they rolled around a couple of times, not breaking the kiss until he lay flat on the bed with her on top.

“Should we try it this way? See if there is no pain? Though my weight will be on your thigh…” she asked.

“Let’s not overthink it. Grab a sheath and put it on me.”

Eliza did, and with every brush of her fingers his prick twitched, making her laugh. “A mind of its own?” she questioned teasingly.

“Perhaps. It wants you, regardless. Put me inside you. Ride me.”

“I’ve never done it this way, “she murmured. Rising up, she grasped him at the root and held his cock still while she slowly descended his length. He slid in and moaned at the tight wetness that greeted him. “Oh. My.” Eliza marveled. “How you fill me. Possess me.” She straddled his thighs and a white hot stab of pain ran down his right leg, causing him to cry out.

She stilled. “Did I hurt you?”

Damn.
After taking a cleansing breath and exhaling, he said, “Lean forward a bit, rest your hands on my shoulders--that’s it. Not as much pressure on my thigh. The pain has lessened already. Now, move, Eliza. Back and forth, up and down. Make yourself come. Ride my cock. Take your pleasure and allow me to have mine. Make love to me.”

“Yes. Make love,” she whispered. Without further encouragement, she found a steady pace, and her hardened nub rubbed against his sheathed cock. Her luscious tits bounced in front of his face. He reached behind him and propped another pillow behind his head, giving him better access.

“Offer me your breast,” he moaned. Then Eliza threw back her head, her auburn waves cascading down her back. Gripping both breasts, she pushed them together while fingering her nipples. Then she did something no woman had ever done before. Leaning down, her tongue darted out and flicked across her own hardened nipple, back and forth until it turned blood red. The erotic sight drove him insane, causing him to forget all lingering pain. Gripping her hips, he drove up inside of her, thrusting hard.

“I told you…wicked. Only you bring this out in me,” she gasped. Eliza pushed her left breast toward his eager mouth and he clamped on tight, sucking and laving for all his worth.

“Do it again, I beg you,” His voice was husky and pleading. Tremain kept thrusting up as she plunged down, their movements growing more frantic, their breathing rough and wild. Sweat covered them from their fierce joining. She smiled slyly as her tongue again laved her nipple. She moaned, clearly enjoying the pleasure she was giving herself…and him. “Give it to me, let me suck it,” he growled.

Eliza leaned in and fed him her breast, squeezing it as he sucked. She laid hot kisses on his cheek, then slid to where his mouth had latched onto her nipple. He turned slightly, kissing her lips, pushing her tit toward her mouth so they could both share. Eliza barely made contact, but it was enough to have the most powerful climax he’d ever had slam him hard. Yelling her name and a few obscenities besides, his body shook with his forceful release. Every muscle in him tightened, causing his legs to go rigid. For a brief moment he experienced no pain, only earth-shattering bliss. She grasped the headboard and moved faster, then cried out, her inner muscles clutching his cock as wave after wave of ecstasy hit her. He felt it all, and the tremors wracking her body joined his own. Together they shared their pleasure.