A Rogue for All Seasons (Weston Family) (42 page)

Diana wiped her sweaty palms on her skirts. “The first told me you loved me… I didn’t think I could ever be happier than I was at that moment, but I was wrong. I loved you more every moment I spent with you.”

His eyes opened, and that intense, cobalt stare pinned her in place “If you were so damned happy—”

“Please, just let me explain.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“I thought my heart would burst with joy on our wedding day. That night, well, I suppose it was late afternoon, but the first time we were together, I knew what I felt for you went beyond love.”

“What’s beyond love?”

“I don’t know, exactly, but it’s a… a need for you that’s all the way in my soul. Apart from you, the people I love most are my mother and Alex. If I were to lose either of them, it would be as though I’d lost a piece of my heart. If I lost you, I wouldn’t have a heart. Losing you would destroy me. I was so happy, but I was also scared because I was certain it couldn’t last.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s scared, Di,” he said wearily. “I’m terrified you’re never going to let yourself trust me. Your parents stopped trusting each other, and their marriage fell apart. You’re convinced that we’ll end up like them, so you’re trying to protect yourself. But if you can’t trust me, it doesn’t matter how much you love me. We’re like your parents already.” He sighed, stepped around her, and began walking in the direction that led back to the house.

Diana’s stomach dropped as she accepted the truth in his words. She hugged her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the day. Henry’s exhaustion weighed on her. He’d fought for their marriage, and she should have been fighting beside him. It wasn’t too late.

“Wait!” she yelled. He halted, but he made no move to turn around. What could she say to reach him?

“You don’t need to be afraid,” she called out, hurrying toward him. “I trust you. I’ve trusted you for a long time in my heart, but my head takes a little longer sometimes.”

She stopped a few feet from him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, but there was a tension in his posture that hadn’t been there before. She had his attention, at least.

“My parents’ marriage made me wary of falling in love, but I was even less prepared to receive love. I had difficulty with the idea that you wished to pretend to court me. Given your reputation, I told myself not to make too much of your flirtations or kisses. I didn’t know what to think when I learned you were serious in your affections. I couldn’t imagine that anyone, especially someone as wonderful as you are, would want me.”

Henry turned around and started toward her, his face grim. Diana held up a hand. “You have to understand, I’d spent my life thinking there must be something the matter with me. My father didn’t want me. I know now that I was wrong, but I spent the better part of my life believing he only loved my brother.

“I could never please my grandparents. The duke took little interest in me, but the duchess saw me as her second chance. My mother had foiled her hopes for a brilliant match, but my grandmother hoped to make one for me. Unfortunately, I am nowhere near as pretty or accomplished as my mother. Apart from my marriage to you, I was always a great disappointment.

“Then, too, I was never very popular. I had some suitors when I first came out, but after so many Seasons without a single suitor, it became difficult to remember that anyone had ever wanted me. Heavens, your mother had to force you to dance with me—” her voice broke.

Henry reached her in a moment. He wrapped her in his arms and, just like that, she was right where she belonged. She let him comfort her for several long moments before she pulled away. She drew in a ragged breath. “Do you understand? Aside from my mother, you’re the only one who’s ever really wanted me. Before you, I had convinced myself that I was unlovable, that I didn’t deserve such happiness.”

“No, Di—” Henry reached for her again. She was breaking him apart.

“I didn’t doubt you. I doubted myself, but I know where I went wrong. I should have told you when I got scared. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulled her close, savoring the way she fit so perfectly against him. “I only wish I knew how to erase those doubts. If you could only see what I see when I look at you…” He gently eased her back so he could see her face. “You are so very precious to me. I would do anything to keep you happy. That’s the reason I didn’t tell you about the meeting with your father. I didn’t want to upset you. I wanted to protect you, and…” He hesitated.

“And?” she prompted.

“And even though I didn’t agree with the way he was going about it, I knew your father was trying to protect you as well. For the same reason I was. Because if you hurt, I hurt with you. I told your sister that if either of my sisters’ husbands were to hurt them, I would beat him to a pulp before shooting him through his black heart. Claire vowed to do the same to me, and I would hand her the gun, Di.

“When I came up with the idea to run a stud, I was looking to find some purpose in my life. I was drifting along through life and while I wasn’t unhappy, I saw my best friend and my sisters and my parents, and I knew there was something more. Something else I was meant to do. I thought I could find what that was at Ravensfield Hall and, in a way, I did, because Ravensfield led me to you and that ridiculous pretend courtship. Di, I will give Penelope back to your father if you want me to. I would give up the stud if you asked me. It will never be enough for me without you by my side to enjoy it with me. Ravensfield isn’t home for me without you there. Home is with you, wherever you want to be. Do
you
understand what
I’m
saying?”

Her smile wobbled. “Maybe you could say it a bit more simply? There are these three little words, you see, and every time I hear them, the doubts fade away a bit more.”

“Then I will say them often.” He cupped her beloved face in his hands. “I love you, Di. With everything I am and all that I hope to be, I love you.” He wiped at the tears running freely down her cheeks. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, or your sister will come after me.”

She gave a short, choked laugh. “I love you so much. You are the dream I never believed would come true, the shining star I watched but never imagined I could touch.”

His heart expanded until he thought his chest was going to explode. He couldn’t speak, so he kissed her. Again and again. Soft, fleeting presses of his lips against hers. As if they had forever. Actually, he thought, they did. The realization eased the pressure in his chest to a comfortable fullness.

Lower down on his body, he felt a different fullness.

He knew Diana felt it too. Not because she couldn’t help but notice, pressed up against him as she was, but because she slipped her hand between their bodies and cupped him through his breeches.

“Di—” His breath hissed through his teeth as she ran her fingers up and down his length.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, a husky catch in her voice.

He swallowed hard. “Don’t play with fire if you’re not willing to get burned, sweetheart.”

She dropped her hand, and he fought to control his disappointment. They were in the woods, he reminded himself, and—

She twined her arms around his neck and dragged his head down until his mouth was only a breath away from hers. “Burn me,” she demanded.

Her words kindled the fire growing within him. He closed the distance between them, slanting his mouth over hers, angling her head with one of his hands. His other hand swept down to her backside, molding her through her skirts. Thoughts of forever were pushed aside for the burgeoning need of 
now
.

When she sucked on his tongue, he swore he could taste her need. Her hunger fed his own. Her desire made him wild. There was no aphrodisiac as potent as knowing Diana wanted him.

She held his jaw as she broke the kiss. The warm pants of breath from her mouth teased his lips. “You are mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed.

Her hazel eyes sparkled with happiness as she knelt before him.

“Tu m’appartiens.”
You belong to me.

She reached for the buttons on his breeches.

“Avec moi.”
With me.

She wrapped her hand around him.

“Et ne le dis pas à ma soeur, mais je ne parle pas très bien le français.”
And don’t tell my sister this, but I don’t speak French very well.

Her mouth joined her hand. He groaned as she licked him—fast, wet flicks of her tongue that sizzled like white-hot jolts of lightning. She built the pleasure in him, heightened the passion collecting between them until the air around them was heavy with it. When she finally took him into her mouth, the storm was close to breaking.

He was close to breaking.

He pulled her off him, lifted her to her feet, and backed her up against the nearest tree.

“If I touch you now, will I find that you’re wet for me?” The words emerged as a harsh growl.

She licked her lips. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Thank God,” he muttered her as he hauled up her skirts. He bunched the fabric in his left hand as his right sought her center.

“Henry, please.” Her gasp turned to a moan as he circled the bud at the peak of her sex.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he instructed as he pressed his chest into hers, trapping her raised skirts between them. He trailed his hand along her thigh, curving around the outside to lift her leg, opening her to him. Her cry of pleasure as he thrust inside her was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “Wrap your legs around my waist. There, yes, I have you. Let go, Di. Let yourself go.”

He raised her up until only the tip of his cock was inside her. He held her there, poised on the edge, poised on him, as his heart beat in hard thuds. There was nothing but the rush of blood through his veins, every drop racing toward the spot where their bodies joined, and those clear hazel eyes, holding his soul captive.

“I love you, Diana.”

Her eyes took on that soft, unfocused look as her inner muscles clenched around him. He lowered her onto his length as his hips bucked up, driving him as deep as he could go. She held on tight, clutching her arms around him, chanting his name like a prayer as her release took her, shook her, shattered her and sent the fragments flying. He was right behind her, the pieces of him reaching out for hers, as if even the smallest part of him knew how he needed her. How he was bound to her, heart and soul.

Her face was buried in his neck, her breath rushing against the base of his throat.

“You aren’t crying, are you?” he asked, his voice ragged from exertion. “Because your sister really will murder me if I make you cry.”

She raised her head, her brilliant smile nearly distracting him from her watery eyes. “These are happy tears,” she promised as he withdrew and slowly lowered her to her feet. He kept his arms around her, partly to steady her but mostly because he wanted to hold her. “Besides, you should be more concerned about what my father will do to you when he sees the grass stains on my skirts.”

The sound he made was somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “I thought you loved me.”

“I
do
love you, so very, very much.”

“Even though I’m a rogue?” he teased.

She arched up and kissed him. He would never tire of the taste of Diana and love and forever.

“Because you’re
my
rogue,” she told him.

And then he kissed her again because she was right.

EPILOGUE

We are anxious for the birth, of course, but one cannot rush nature. I have been thinking of names and so, I suspect, has Henry, but we have not discussed them. If Claire arrives in time, she will doubtless have an opinion as well. I have arranged all the details of her visit, and Henry and I are eager to have her with us, so let your mind be easy on that point. I am delighted that you and Mama are enjoying Harrogate, and you must stay and explore The Dales as long as the weather permits. I will share some further news I believe will please you both…

—FROM DIANA WESTON TO HER FATHER THOMAS MERRIWETHER

A
LITTLE MORE THAN NINE MONTHS LATER
…

“C
OME ON, SWEETHEART
,” H
ENRY URGED
, gripping Diana’s hand so tightly she yelped in pain. “I’m sorry.” He released her with a rueful grin. “I’m a little on edge.”

A vast understatement, she thought, watching him with equal parts affection and amusement. Her husband had been testy for the past fortnight, ever since Penelope had begun displaying the signs that her time was near at hand. The grooms took turns keeping watch at night and, as per Henry’s orders, someone had come to the house to alert them when the mare had shown signs of beginning her labor.

She and Henry had hastily dressed and made their way to the stables where Kingsley and the other grooms observed the mare’s progress, content to let nature take its course. Though the birthing process was relatively uncomplicated, there were always risks attendant to both the mare and her foal. Kingsley would intervene at the first sign of a problem, but Henry was the one in distress.