Time After Time (129 page)

Failing to be gentle, he pinned her back on the desk and joined his body to hers with one fierce, demanding thrust.
God, she felt so good.
His large shaft stretched her out, filling her. She cried out, wrapping her legs and arms around him, and he groaned as the change in angle allowed her to take in even more of him.

Their mouths fused together, tongues mating as their bodies moved in a hard, wild rhythm. He pumped into her in powerful strokes, neither of them noticing the desk drawers rattling as she clung to him for the ride, and he felt the pleasure take over her again. Her body convulsed around him, milking him. Lucas groaned her name as he thrust himself to the hilt inside her one last time and claimed his own release.

He collapsed on top of her. He buried his face in her neck as he gasped in deep, panting breaths. The scent of sexual satisfaction surrounded them, and his eyes remained closed as he savored the way his wife enveloped his body in every way imaginable, clinging to the blissful place she’d taken him.

But awareness was already returning, and with it, a dawning realization crashed over him. He’d completely lost control with this woman. He opened his eyes, registered the surface of the desk and remorse burned in his gut. He’d taken her right here in his study, for God’s sake.

What was wrong with him?

He levered himself off her and righted his trousers, then he lifted her off the desk, steadying her when she stumbled on her feet. Wordlessly, he started straightening her gown, unable to meet her gaze.

What was it about this woman that made him lose his mind whenever he touched her? Never had he known such overwhelming passion, this overpowering need to possess her and bind her to him completely that took precedence over everything else. If he hadn’t known better, he’d think that some otherworldly force was behind this insanity. That she really was a mischievous nymph who had decided to play with him.

He stared at her face, noting the lovely tint of her cheeks, her pretty lips that were swollen from his kisses. He felt himself harden, and his mind reeled as he realized that he wanted her again. Immediately. He stepped back in awe.

“Lucas?” Penelope called out, her uncertainty clear. Her chin trembled as she reached for him.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, thankful when Finchley discreetly knocked on the door. “What is it?”

Finchley opened the door and gave a discreet cough. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but Lord Westville has arrived. He said you were expecting him.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Yes. Show him in, Finchley.”

A moment later, Anthony walked in. Amusement lurked in Anthony’s eyes as he looked at the heap of documents on the floor, then at Penelope, before finally resting his gaze on Lucas.

“Am I interrupting something?” Anthony’s gaze shifted back to Penelope, and he bowed respectfully. “Forgive my forwardness, my lady, but I haven’t seen Ravenstone in weeks.”

Anthony cast Lucas a sidelong glance. “The last time we saw each other, you were on your way out of Town to pick up some baggage.”

Lucas scowled at his friend. “If you can stop grinning like an imbecile, Anthony, I’ll introduce you to my wife.”

Penelope excused herself from the study soon after the introductions were made, mumbling something about changing her attire and made for the door to leave the men to their business.

He watched his friend follow Penelope with his gaze as she exited the room. Lucas cleared his throat, and Anthony turned to face him.

“Your new countess is enchanting,” his friend remarked.

Enchanting was the perfect term to describe the nymph. She had cast a spell on him from the moment he’d met her in that coaching inn. Even now, it was all he could do to concentrate on what Anthony was telling him.

“News of your sudden marriage has swept the Town. Everyone is curious to see the new Countess of Ravenstone.”

He sighed and sank in the chair behind his desk. “They will see her soon enough,” he grumbled. “We are going to the Uffingtons’ ball tonight.” He gave Anthony a direct stare. “I trust my sister has not caused you any trouble while I was away?”

“No,” Anthony assured him, taking a seat on one of the burgundy leather chairs on the other side of the desk. “Little Olivia was well behaved as always. I’ve no doubt she will get an offer before the Season ends.”

With the small talk out of the way, they started talking business. Now that the Ravenstone fortune was safely in his hands, Lucas could go back to investing without worrying if his inheritance would be snatched out from under him.

It had only been three weeks since he was last in Town, and not much had changed in that time. Anthony filled him in on the latest news, but his thoughts kept wandering back to his wife. He had the uneasy feeling he’d hurt her with his silence after their last encounter.

He’d lost himself completely and had probably been too rough with her. He stared at his desk surface in contemplation. He didn’t doubt Penelope’s enjoyment of their lovemaking. He knew she found fulfillment. And yet, he couldn’t shake off the haunting image of her looking at him with that vulnerable, lost expression so soon after their interlude.

He grimaced. He probably owed her an apology. He didn’t know how wives expected to be treated after performing their marital obligation, but he suspected they expected more than mere silence.
Damnation. Marriage is hard work.

The problem with Penelope was that she was unlike any other woman he’d known. She probably wouldn’t be soothed by flowers or trinkets. Hell, he was probably going to have to adopt a few abused donkeys to soothe her ruffled feathers. And then a thought hit him. “Anthony, is Colonel Martin in Town?”

“He is, as a matter of fact. Why do you ask?”

One side of Lucas’s mouth kicked up. Penelope would love to meet the colonel. It was the perfect way to atone for what had taken place in his study.

Chapter Fourteen

Penelope went up the winding grand marble staircase and headed for Olivia’s bedchamber.

She needed to put her encounter with Lucas behind her. She thought she had finally reached him today, but she saw the panic in his eyes after they’d made love and the relief in his features when Lord Westville had interrupted their discussion. It was obvious her husband regretted the entire interlude.

That hurt, but she tried to focus on the positive. She knew Lucas had been trying to avoid spending time with her since their wedding night. Oh, he joined her in bed every evening, but during the day, he kept their discussion light and impersonal. There had been none of the teasing banter she had shared with him at Highfield Manor. They’d spent the long journey to London discussing travel arrangements, and since arriving in Town there had been so much to do, they’d hardly talked at all.

At least they had finally spent some time alone together during the day, even if he’d regretted it afterward. She angrily cast thoughts of her confusing husband and marriage aside. For the moment, she would focus her efforts on Olivia. Penelope wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt today by Lucas’s callousness.

She reached Olivia’s bedchamber and knocked on the door once before letting herself in. Olivia was sitting on the frilly bed, her yellow muslin dress arranged carefully about her.

“Have you chosen which gown you’re wearing for the ball?” Penelope asked.

Olivia looked up, and it occurred to Penelope once more how very much the girl resembled Lucas. Her eyes were the same shade of midnight, and her raven hair tended to curl at the ends like her brother’s. Her coloring wasn’t the only thing she had in common with her brother either. There was something about Olivia that seemed too somber for a girl of eighteen.

Penelope rummaged through the young woman’s closet. “I think you should wear that pale pink gown. You would look beautiful in it.”

“Did Lucas send you up here?”

She whirled. “Of course not! Your brother is downstairs in the study with his friend, Lord Westville.”

Olivia’s fingers trailed over the cover of the book they’d bought at Hatchard’s. It was a tome on architecture, written by a man named Gibbs. Penelope didn’t care a whit about the subject. In her opinion, merely thinking about architecture was already such an arduous process that
reading
about it would be sheer, unmitigated torture. So she decided to discuss their visit to the bookshop instead.

“It was very kind of Lord Blakewood to recommend that book. I must admit, I don’t know anything about architecture myself.”

Olivia’s features softened with a dreamy smile. “I’ve met him before, you know.”

“Who?” She sat on the bed beside Olivia. “Lord Blakewood?”

“Yes. We talked before Lucas sent me home to Ravenstone while he claimed you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your brother thinks it’s a bad idea for you to associate with him.”

“Lucas doesn’t even know him! Lord Blakewood is a gentleman right down to the tips of his toes.”

“His toes, really?” she teased. “I didn’t realize a man’s toes could be an indicator of whether or not he was a gentleman. I usually rely on things such as clothes and manner of speech.”

Olivia giggled. “You say the oddest things, you know.”

“I know.”

“I am nervous about tonight,” Olivia confessed.

She nodded. “Me, too.”

“You are?”

“Of course. You’re not the only one who’s having a ‘come-out.’ And I am not nearly as statuesque as you are, so it will be difficult for me to stare down the gossipers.”

Olivia giggled again. “I shall be right by your side to do the staring down for you.”

“I would appreciate that. The important thing,” she advised, “is that you have fun. If you are not enjoying yourself, then all of this would be no different from sewing with a broken needle.”

“A broken needle?”

“Pointless.”

“Thank you,” Olivia said simply.

The statement surprised her. “For what?”

“For making me laugh.”

She smiled and got off the bed. “You’re very welcome.”

• • •

The laughter was back in Penelope’s face when Lucas spied her from the balcony that evening at the Uffington manor. His eyes were drawn to her like a magnet as he debated how best to approach her. He’d spent part of the evening at his club, as Anthony had advised, to confront the gossip about his sudden marriage. He’d endured surreptitious stares in the club, but no one had actually dared to ask him about his married state until David Maitland came in and joined him for a glass of brandy.

“Ravenstone,” Maitland said, seating himself across from Lucas. “I thought I’d find you here.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Maitland.”

The air of anticipation that swept across the roomful of aristocrats was palpable. He didn’t have to wait long before one of the gossiping fools approached the table.

“By Jove, so it is true then?” asked Lord Haynes, an aging fop with a balding head, as he moved toward Maitland. “Ravenstone has married your cousin?”

“Yes, it is,” Maitland confirmed. “I attended the wedding myself.”

Lord Haynes’s bushy brows shot up. “By Jove. So you have married her, then?” he demanded of Lucas.

“Maitland has just told you that I have done so.”

“Well, by Jove! Rumor has it you did get married. Odd, that.”

He turned his head very slowly, pinning Haynes with his gaze. “You find it odd that I have married?”

Lord Haynes’s moustache twitched. “By Jove,” he croaked before walking away.

Maitland chuckled and lifted his glass to Lucas in a mocking toast. “If only I could do that to annoying little gossips.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here, Maitland?”

“I arrived this morning,” Maitland explained. He took a sip of his brandy before continuing, “I thought Penelope might need my help in confirming her identity, seeing as my father couldn’t even be bothered to go to your wedding.”

Lucas arched one brow in a sardonic gesture. “Why are you suddenly so interested in Penelope’s welfare? I understand you have not deigned to visit her in years.”

“I understand you had not deigned to visit her at all,” Maitland shot back before he continued his explanation. “I have recently found out some truths about my father, and I think it’s time I make up for the mistakes he made.”

That sentiment was something Lucas understood very well. So it was without hesitation that he informed Maitland of Penelope’s itinerary for the evening.

“The Uffingtons?” Maitland paused, gathering his thoughts. “I shall have to change my attire, but I will be there to show my support.”

“I appreciate that,” he said quietly. If Maitland attended the ball, there would be no further questions about Penelope’s identity.

His wife had been so concerned about his reputation and Olivia’s debut, it hadn’t occurred to her that she would also be under scrutiny. In typical Penelope fashion, she had been worrying about everyone but herself. Even during their bargaining over marriage terms, the things she had asked for concerned her stepfamily, her servant and even her dog, instead of herself. Except for her demand for him not to order her about or to take a mistress. He smiled at the memory.

Now that he was her husband, it was his privilege and duty to make certain she remained safe. Protecting her reputation had been foremost in his mind on the way to the Uffington ball. The minute he arrived, however, he realized his concerns had been unnecessary. The nymph seemed to have found a way to captivate London’s elite with her unique combination of humor and warmth, the way she did with everyone she encountered.

Dressed in a decadently graceful puce-colored, velvet gown with ruched sleeves and a pleated skirt with gold and silver stripes at the hem, Penelope looked like a sorceress from an Arthurian legend, a complete antidote to the jaded occupants of the ballroom.

His jaw tightened as he noticed the man she was dancing with. Ethan Banks, a simpering fop who had entered Society a couple years ago, was twirling his wife around the dance floor and, in his opinion, holding Penelope much too close.