A Midsummer's Kiss (Farthingale Series Book 4) (27 page)

“Put down the pistol, Dev,” she said, her voice filled with a steady confidence she didn’t possess. “It’s over. The Bow Street runners have taken your accomplices into custody. You’re only making matters worse for yourself.”

She saw his eyes go wide in panic, and he began to wave his pistol recklessly.
Oh, dear!
“Let Daisy go. Take me as your hostage instead.”

Daisy gasped. “No! Laurel, it’s all my fault. I should have believed you, but I allowed myself to be duped.”

“No, you’re not to blame. He meant to marry me first.”

Daisy sniffled. “But I allowed myself to—”

“Both of you shut up!” Devlin shouted, his outstretched arm now shaking from the weight of the pistol held too long. “I can’t think with both of you chattering.”

“Dev, there’s nothing to think about,” her father said, stepping out of the shadows to stand beside Graelem and George. In the next moment, he stood between Devlin and Graelem, in the exact spot she’d hoped to be in order to obstruct Devlin’s aim. “You can’t have either of my daughters. Laurel’s given her heart elsewhere and Daisy is too young to know her own mind. Put down your weapon, son. We’ll work this out with your father. This can all be kept quiet. We won’t call in the authorities. No criminal charges pursued against you or your friends.”

Devlin’s hand wavered and Laurel noted the doubt now in his eyes. “Do I have your word on it, Mr. Farthingale?”

“You do.” Her father appeared calm, but she felt the angry heat radiating off him and knew that no matter what happened, she and Daisy were in big trouble. Huge trouble. Their punishment would be as bad as any Devlin would face. “I give you my word. Hand me the weapon and release my daughter.”

He released Daisy but kept the pistol aimed at Graelem.

Daisy flew into their father’s arms.

Devlin began to back out, his gaze fixed on the men and seeming to forget about Laurel since she had been shunted off to the side. She waited for him to exit the stable and lower his arm, which now dangled tiredly at his side, the pistol loose in his grip. He started to run, but unlike her father, she’d made him no promises and wasn’t about to let the wretch get off so easily.

She grabbed the whip her father had set aside and flicked it about Devlin’s ankles, tripping him as he ran. He fell forward, his body hitting the dirt hard and the pistol skating out of his grasp. She kicked the horrid weapon out of his reach and then turned him over and grabbed him by his neatly tied cravat. “You bounder! How dare you endanger Daisy!”

His only response was a strangled gurgle.

Was she choking him? She didn’t care. “She was a good friend to you. A dear friend. She trusted you!” She curled her hand into a fist and was about to smash it into his nose, but a big, warm hand fell over hers and she was suddenly plucked off Devlin.

“Laurel, it’s over,” Graelem said gently against her ear, drawing her into his arms and holding her tight as she still struggled. It might seem a loving, protective gesture to all, but she understood his true purpose, to protect that good-for-nothing Devlin from her wrath.

She tried to squirm out of Graelem’s arms but he wouldn’t let her, so all she could do was scowl down at the little toad who was now whimpering at her feet. She dared not raise her voice and alert the neighbors, for her father was right to keep the matter as quiet as possible for Daisy’s sake. Even though she was innocent in this affair, she’d be scalded by the gossip and her reputation tarnished if hint of this incident ever got out. Everyone would believe Daisy planned to elope with Devlin.

George knelt down and untangled Devlin’s legs from the whip. “Tell your father that Mr. Farthingale will call upon him tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock.”

Devlin nodded as he struggled to his feet, and then with another whimper scurried away.

“Dirty, deceitful scoundrel,” Laurel muttered, her hands still curled into fists at her sides. “If he so much as glances your way, Daisy, I’ll cleave him in half.”

Her father groaned. “Enough, Laurel. Everyone back to my study. I’m not nearly done with any of you yet.”

Nor am I.
But Laurel knew better than to open her mouth and say anything until they were all safely back home. Her uncle took a moment to make certain the Bow Street runner wasn’t seriously injured, all of them emitting a sigh of relief when he groaned and rolled to his feet.

Everyone was overset, especially Daisy, who continued to sob against her father’s shoulder. How much distressing news could her father handle in one night, Laurel wondered? She had to tell him about her near abduction. It wouldn’t do to have a magistrate appear at their door tomorrow morning and her father still in the dark about that unfortunate incident.

“Pruitt, summon my wife,” her father said as they all returned and headed into the study. “George, please stay. I think I’ll need your steady guidance.”

Her uncle nodded. “Of course.”

It took only a moment for their mother to join them. She took one look at Daisy, who had yet to stop crying, and rushed to her side. “Hush, sweetheart. All will be well. You’re home now.”

George closed the door behind them and stood off to the side, knowing this was a conversation to be had between parents and their wayward daughters. “It’s my fault,” Laurel said before any accusations were leveled at Daisy, who was still too distraught to defend herself. “Daisy had no intention of leaving the house, but when she saw that I wasn’t in our bedchamber, she thought I was eloping with Devlin and went to the stables to stop me.”

Her father sighed and shook his head. “I appreciate your attempt to protect your sister, but what happened is obvious.”

Laurel shook her head. “Not to me. What are you talking about?”

“Daisy planned to elope with Devlin,” her father said. “The bounder knew he’d lost your affections and turned his efforts toward the next sister… who didn’t have the sense to see through his lies.”

The breath was stolen from Laurel’s lungs. “No!” Is this what the family thought of Daisy? “She knew what he was and tried to protect me. She was brave and caring and everything wonderful, just as she’s always been.”

Daisy struggled to her feet. “Laurel, it’s all right. You don’t have to defend me.”

“Of course I do. You only meant to protect me.”

Daisy glanced worriedly at Graelem.
Oh, dear!
Did she still think he believed the lies Devlin and Anne had been spewing? “And now you’re trying to protect me. But I won’t have your happiness put at risk for something that I did.” Daisy turned to address Graelem. “Laurel truly loves you. She wasn’t lying to you or planning to deceive you. Pay no attention to what she’s saying. She had no intention of dashing off to Gretna Green with Devlin. I was the one he meant to take.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Don’t do this, Daisy. Graelem knows. He trusts me. You don’t need to worry about us. Our betrothal isn’t in jeopardy, although his wretched cousin—”

Graelem suddenly took hold of her hand and squeezed it. He gave an imperceptible shake of his head, as though telling her to stop. He meant to be honorable, but her family needed the reminder about his circumstances. Jordan would inherit most of the Moray properties within a short twenty-four hours if something wasn’t done about it.

She cast him a determined glower.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, not exactly forbidding her to speak since he knew that wouldn’t work anyway, but merely suggesting that she shouldn’t. But how could she keep silent when there was so much to tell, not just about his inheritance, but her own abduction. Keeping silent would be the same as lying to her parents. In any event, she was never good at keeping quiet. “I wasn’t in our bedchamber because Devlin’s scoundrel friends abducted me shortly before Devlin took Daisy hostage in the stable.”

She paused a moment for their reaction. Not even Daisy appeared to believe her.

A wiser young woman would have stopped and reassessed at that moment, but she was overset and never that wise, especially when indignant. She knew her limitations and would never make a good wife for a diplomat. Goodness, she wasn’t certain she’d make Graelem a good wife… or if he’d even want her as his wife once she was through with her speech. “It’s true! They held a foul cloth to my nose and tried to knock me out, but I fought and kicked, even though they threw a sack over my head and tossed me into their carriage. Then Graelem and Jordan and a burly man with a bulbous red nose intercepted the carriage and rescued me.”

“Graelem’s cousin has a bulbous red nose?” Daisy asked.

“No.” She paused only to take a quick breath and glance at their faces. They still didn’t believe her, and Graelem was standing with his arms crossed over his chest doing nothing to help. “Someone in this household must have heard the commotion. The horses reared and the carriage clattered to a noisy halt just down the street. Graelem had his Bow Street runners take the scoundrels to the local magistrate. That’s where we ought to have taken Devlin, since he was obviously the one who paid those vermin.”

She could see that her parents were growing impatient.

Graelem reached over to squeeze her hand again.

She gazed at him in confusion. “Say something, anything, so they’ll believe me.”

Graelem sighed and turned to her parents. “Laurel is telling the truth, as implausible as it may seem. She was abducted. Both your daughters were in jeopardy this evening.”

“Which is why I must be allowed to marry Graelem as soon as possible. I know we’re in mourning, and Graelem is surely tossing daggers at me as I speak, but after what took place tonight I think the matter of our betrothal must be discussed and resolved immediately. You’re scheduled to meet Lord Kirwood tomorrow at four o’clock. We can schedule our wedding ceremony for two o’clock.”

Her mother paled and sank into the closest chair. Her father went straight to his wife and put an arm about her shoulders. “Sophie, dearest.”

“I’ll be all right, John. Just give me a moment to catch my breath.” She inhaled deeply several times and slowly exhaled each time. “Both daughters in danger, you say?”

Graelem nodded. “I’ve had Bow Street runners following my cousin as well as Devlin, worried that they would conspire to keep me and Laurel apart. It would have served both their interests, allowing my cousin to secure his inheritance when I failed to marry by Midsummer’s Day, and giving Devlin the heiress he needed to marry to maintain his profligate ways. Jordan refused to be a part of it and warned me. None of us counted on Daisy getting caught up in their scheme.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “But Devlin must have known that Daisy was an easier mark. I doubt he intended to marry Daisy—he probably wanted to hold her hostage to secure Laurel’s cooperation. He knew that Laurel would not marry him even if he held a pistol to her head, but one held against Daisy… well, Laurel would have done anything to save her sister.”

George groaned.

Her father looked more haggard than Laurel had ever seen him. “Are you certain you still wish to marry Laurel?”

Graelem chuckled. “Incredibly, yes. Never had a moment’s doubt, sir. Although she’s quite fierce with a whip. I’ll have to remember not to anger her.”

Laurel huffed. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I know, lass. I was just teasing.” He reached out and tucked a finger under her chin, his expression now serious. “I know you’ll be as protective of our children. They’ll be well loved and cared for.”

Well loved and cared for as Graelem never was. She knew that’s what he really meant to say and it made her heart ache for him all the more. “By both of us.”

He nodded. “I love you, Laurel.”

Those magic words seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. “I love you, too. I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Graelem. But I promise to—”

“Hush, lass. I don’t need assurances or promises to reform your hellion ways. I’ve told you before, had I wanted a wife with boiled mushrooms for brains, I would have chosen her weeks ago. Such women are available by the hundreds. But there’s only one of you.”

“And one is quite enough,” her father intoned, mopping his brow. “Two o’clock you say?”

Laurel gasped.

Graelem nodded.

“Sophie, set out your prettiest dress. We’re going to a Midsummer’s Day wedding.”

LAUREL REMOVED
HER
wedding dress, unbound her hair, and slipped on her bedclothes with the help of a maid.

Once alone, she wasn’t certain what to do while waiting for Graelem to enter their bedchamber. This would be a night of magic, if her married sister was to be believed. She wanted it to be true, but didn’t think it was possible. Graelem had teased her about being an inept lover.

Did he mean it?

Oh, dear.
Of course he did. She was inept and inexperienced.

She glanced around the well-appointed room, her gaze settling on the large four-poster bed in the center of it that was covered by a lustrous emerald green counterpane. The chamber wasn’t really theirs, but merely one of the many guest rooms in Gabriel Dayne’s unoccupied townhouse. Graelem had intended to reside there during his wife hunt, but that was before Laurel had trampled him while riding Brutus and effectively put an end to his marital plans.

The house had been readied for them this morning.

All thought fled as Graelem entered the chamber and softly closed the door behind him.
Hot, buttered crumpets!
He looked good. Incredibly good in his black dressing gown. From what she could see, he had nothing on beneath it.

She wore a delicate, pale pink nightgown borrowed from her married sister, Rose, who’d grinned wickedly and wagered that she wouldn’t keep it on for more than two minutes after Graelem entered the room. “I’d wager one minute,” Rose added, “but Graelem’s broken leg might slow him down a bit.”

Laurel’s heart tightened at the recollection of Rose’s remark. Her distress mounted as she watched Graelem stride toward her on his crutches, still needing them to get around. It was a grim reminder of how badly his leg had been injured. “Lass, I’ve never seen you look so scared,” he said in a husky murmur. “We have a lifetime together. I’ll not force you to—”

“It isn’t that.” She blushed as he set aside his crutches and reached out to caress her cheek. She loved his touch. “I don’t wish to disappoint you. And you said it yourself, I don’t know what I’m doing, so how can I possibly please you?”

He groaned as he gazed at her with a tenderness that warmed her heart. “Is that all? Sweetheart, you will please me. You
do
please me. Making love isn’t meant to happen with the precision of a Swiss clock or a perfectly rehearsed waltz. It’s best when awkward and unrestrained, especially good with a dollop of wantonness thrown in.”

She laughed softly and shook her head, forgetting that her gold curls were unbound, so that the unruly strands swayed and tumbled over her shoulders with each shake. “I’m not lacking in that. Even now, my fingers are itching to fling the dressing gown off you so that I can admire your naked body.” She blushed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

His eyes were gleaming with a mix of amusement and heat. “Do you mean it?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. I’ve been curious ever since I burst into your room on that first day and caught you with your clothes off.” She traced a finger along his exposed chest, absorbing the heat of his lightly bronzed skin and the tickle of his dark chest hairs against the pad of her finger.

He responded in kind, his finger sliding across the mound of one breast and then the other in a languid motion that immediately stirred her blood and caused the private recesses of her body to pulse and throb. The silken fabric between them seemed to heighten the sensation of his rough skin against her breasts.

She closed her eyes and leaned back in the cradle of his arm while he continued to stroke her breasts, his palm now cupping one and gently kneading it. His thumb now rubbing across the hardening nipple.
Sweet Mother of All Crumpets!
He’d barely started and her body was already a hot, wanton flame of desire.

He lowered his head and replaced his fingers with his mouth, teasing the taut peak as he suckled her through the silk and then flicking his tongue across it, mercilessly heightening the unbearable heat now coursing through her body like a river of hot, fiery lava. In the next moment, her gown was off and pooled at her feet, and his mouth was on her breast again, this time without the fabric barrier.

“Oh, Graelem!” She buried her fingers in his hair and then clutched his shoulders, for her legs had turned to butter and she hadn’t the strength to stand up. She would have fallen had he not held her in his arms.

She was naked and she wanted him that way, too. She tugged at his dressing gown, too late realizing she had tugged the knot at his belt the wrong way and now she’d hopelessly tightened it. He looked up and grinned. “Let me help you, love.”

She grumbled. “I told you I’m no good at this.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” He released her to quickly loosen the knot and shrug out of the garment. No barriers existed between them now.

She took the opportunity to study his big, muscled, male body, her breath hitching at the unmistakably hard and erect bulge between his well-formed legs. “What shall I… am I supposed to…?”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, lifting the covers so she could slip between the sheets. He joined her there and nudged her onto her back while he settled atop her, propping on his elbows in order not to crush her, although she liked the weight of him on her body. “I’ll show you, sweetheart. There’s no rush. We have all night.” He stroked his hand through her hair that was splayed across the pillows. “Honey and silk,” he murmured, running his fingers through the strands once more and gently brushing them off her shoulders for an unobstructed view of her breasts.

He liked her breasts. A lot.

“You’re beautiful, Laurel,” he said in a reverent whisper.

“So are you, my love.” She raised her head off the pillow to meet his lips in a kiss that was unrestrained, for they wanted each other and neither wished to hold back. He certainly wasn’t. His hand slid down the length of her, coming to rest atop her breast and teasing it once again until she bucked beneath him, she was that hot and wanting.

He kissed a trail starting from her lips, down her jaw, to the soft arch of her shoulder, to the taut bud of her breast, taking it gently between his teeth and rousing more exquisite sensations as he nipped and licked with his tongue until she couldn’t recall her name or her country of birth or anything but Graelem. Then he moved lower, kissing her stomach, the inside of her thighs, and finally nudging them slightly apart to place his mouth on her nether lips.

Mercy!

He felt so good against her. She felt shameless, but had no desire to stop him even as he tucked his shoulders under her legs for a better angle to probe and swirl and—the moans tore from her throat before she could stop them as a tingling heat began to wash over her body and threatened to sweep her away on a hot, pulsing tide. “Graelem,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “I love you.”

She was still hot and throbbing when he drew his mouth away from the intimate part of her body only to replace it with his erect member. He positioned himself between her legs and rubbed it along her slick opening, then slowly began to push inside her, ever so gently at first, then a little harder. “I love you, too.”

He thrust into her, still careful not to hurt her, but he was big and hard and she’d never experienced this sensation before. She thought it would hurt much more than it did, but the discomfort was only at first. As she curled her legs around his waist, any sensation of pain was quickly replaced by wonderfully intimate waves of heat that increased in intensity as he began to thrust in and out of her.

The building desire she’d experienced a moment ago stirred again. She began to move with him, arching upward to meet him and clinging to his shoulders as he pulled away and then came back to her. Like waves rolling toward her shore, some of them hard and pounding, while others were gentle. His thrusts came in steady intervals, once again like waves cresting and ebbing, and then they were only cresting, so that the two of them were lifted so high they floated among the stars, their bodies joined, their hearts entwined forever.

She cried his name over and over. She kissed him on the mouth, kissed his jaw, pressed her lips against the hard curve of his taut, muscled shoulders. Whispered his name until they collapsed, moaning and their bodies damp, in each other’s arms. “How do you feel, love?” he asked, easing out of her and rolling her atop him as he fell onto his back, sinking into the soft mattress.

Her long hair fell over his chest and shoulders as she rested her cheek against his heart, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Indeed, he seemed to like the feel of her hair between his fingers and the way it fell in unruly waves over her shoulders and onto his body. “I feel…”
Wonderful, spectacular.
“I feel like a baroness. An enchanted baroness caught up in a magical dream that I hope never ends. Graelem, thank you for waiting for me. I’m so glad you didn’t give up on me and marry someone else.”

He let out a throaty laugh. “I would sooner give up my heart than ever give you up.” He absently stroked his hand along her spine as he seemed to sober. “No one has ever fought for me as you have, Laurel. No one has ever loved me as you do. When you came to me with your list of demands and told me what they were, I wanted to sweep you into my arms and kiss you into forever. They weren’t demands. They were confirmation that I existed, that my life had meaning. That someone cared if I lived or died.”

She hugged him, wanting to cry for all the joy he’d missed as a child. Loving him all the more for becoming the wonderful man he was today, the man who’d stolen her heart. “I hope you remember these words the next time I do something headstrong and foolish and you wish to throttle me.”

“You may be headstrong, but you’re not foolish.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll remember, and always be grateful for finding you. I’ll remember our wedding and especially this wedding night.”

A grandfather clock chimed in the downstairs hallway. Laurel gasped. “It’s almost midnight.”

“So?”

She scrambled to her knees. “The day is almost over.”

He quirked an eyebrow, still obviously confused. “I repeat, so?”

“You have to kiss me, Graelem.”

“Haven’t I been doing just that? And won’t I continue to do that in about thirty seconds because your pink, naked body is making me hot and wild again?”

She nodded. “But before that happens—”

“Too late.”

“Before that happens, I’d like you to make it a pure kiss, one that is from the deepest recesses of your heart, one not guided by lustful thoughts, although I’d forgive you if you failed to keep it completely pure. I’m having trouble ridding my mind of lustful thoughts, too. You’re excessively handsome in your naked splendor.”

The clock continued to chime. Eight. Nine. “Quick, Graelem. A kiss I’ll never forget.”

“A midsummer’s kiss,” he said as the clock chimed ten. Eleven. He took her into his arms and closed his mouth over hers. More important, he took Laurel into his heart forever and completely as the clock chimed twelve to mark the end of Midsummer’s Day.

THE END