B005R3LZ90 EBOK (33 page)

"Don't know what no metropolis is."

"You're so blessedly simple. Wait a few days, then you'll be free to leave here and return to me." There was a pause, and Lloyd heard the jingling of coins. "Here's a few crowns for your transportation."

A few minutes later, they left the stable and the groom helped her mount her horse. Lloyd waited until she was almost out of his vision before he began to follow. He saw that when she got to the lane, she turned right. The road to Tottenford.

Gordon waited with the horse in a pocket of hedges. Lloyd took the reins. "Go back to bed. I can handle it."

* * *

Over breakfast the next morning, Adams told George that two men desired to speak to him in the library.

Could the runners have the information so quickly? George threw down his fork, got up and hurried to the library. "Gentlemen?"

Smug smiles met him. "We've got the information ye need," one of them said.

For some strange reason, his pulse quickened. "Who?"

The runner who kept the notebook replied. "A Miss Johnson from Corriander House in Bath."

George's heart pounded in his chest. Because he had the effrontery to marry a woman of lesser means and lesser beauty, and because he gave the woman a set-down at the Pump Room, Betsy Johnson wished to destroy him. "The slut! The bitch!"

"Aye, she's all of that and more," the runner said. "It's my belief she's been payin' the groom with her body."

George gave out a bitter laugh. "He could have such at any brothel."

"Ain't you right about that! I never heard no woman speakin' in such dirty language, much less a lady born."

"She's no lady," George said. He met the gaze of the man who had just spoken. "Forgive me for making you have to listen to the woman's foul mouth."

"It's all in a day's—or night's—work. I followed her to the Cock 'n Stock Inn, where the innkeeper confirmed that the lady's stayed there on three different occasions. Though she used the name Jones, the innkeeper can identify her."

"And Lloyd heard enough conversation between the lady from Bath and the groom to convict them," the other runner added.

"Gentlemen," George said, "I believe a trip to Bath is in order. First, of course, we shall arrest Ebinezer."

* * *

It was a couple of hours later before George returned to the house. Sally was waiting.

"George Pembroke, I declare, I am exceedingly mad at you! You know the doctor will not allow you out of doors. And why will you not tell me who those two men are?"

A sheepish grin on his face, he came to give her cheek a kiss. "I shall tell you everything when I return from Bath."

She seized his arm. "You are not going to Bath!"

"But, my dear, the Bow Street runners have already arrested Ebinezer and now plan to arrest Betsy Johnson for serious crimes committed against Lord Sedgewick, and I really must be there."

"Betsy Johnson!" she shrieked. "Bow Street runners? Oh, George, you're so very clever. And now everything falls into place so well." Until this moment, Sally had never thought she could hate Miss Johnson. After all, Sally was the victor, and she planned to be a gracious one. But anyone who could devise a scheme so sinister deserved Sally's hatred—along with a beheading. "You're not going to Bath without me! I don't trust you to take proper care of yourself."

George gave her an odd, pained look. "You're at liberty to do whatever you'd like, my lady."

"Then I shall gather a few things," she said as she began to run up the stairs. "Thank goodness I no longer have to worry about the children's safety. How long will we be gone, dearest?"

"We'll be back tomorrow."

"Then I shall leave the children in Glee's care."

As Hettie helped her pack, Sally's mind was a blur. The horrid past that the wicked Betsy Johnson had orchestrated mixed with the future and what Sally hoped to salvage of her marriage. Could she dare hope Glee was right?

There was only one way to find out. She would have to loosen the grip on her pride.

Chapter 32

The sun sliced into the carriage from the tiny side window, bathing George's poor, healing face in light while Sally, sitting opposite him, was in shadow. "Please come sit by me," she said. "You're in the sun."

He shot her a cold glance, then moved to sit next to her.

They rode on for some time without talking. Sally was much too aware of how close his knee was to her own. And the nearness of him flooded her with memories of that special nearness they had shared. That nearness she hoped to repeat.

In order to satisfy herself of his possible affection, she must throw her pride into the wind. Her pulse raced. She took in a deep breath, then began: "You know, George, I was greatly offended when you said you loved me, but then called me Diana."

He spun to her, his eyes wide, his brows low. "I couldn't have called you Diana! I haven't even thought of her in months. You must be mistaken."

"Does a soaring dove not know when it is felled by a musketball?"

A deep softness came over his still-handsome face as he peered into her eyes, taking her hands in his and lifting them to his mouth. "I can't even picture Diana. It's you and only you who relentlessly bombards my every waking thought and ignites my every desire."

So it had indeed just been an old habit! It really was she whom he loved! She now regretted the recent nights when her pride had kept her beloved from her bed. Her hand cupped his face. "And it's you and only you whom I've always loved."

His green eyes danced. "Always?"

She nodded shyly.

"Then may I suggest, Lady Sedgewick, that you sit upon my lap?" He cinched his hands about her waist and began to haul her to his lap.

She was seated atop him in a flash, circling her arms around his neck, lowering her lips to his for an unbelievably tender kiss. From her mouth he moved effortlessly to her slender neck, then he covered her bosom with gentle kisses. She sighed and arched, impatient for him to release her breasts for the more careful consideration of his mouth.

As she felt the cool air rushing over her unbound breasts, she fleetingly thought of the coachman, of the impropriety of her near nakedness, but abandoned her inhibitions as George suckled on her hardened nipples, his gentle hand nudging upward from beneath her skirts, quelling any hint of rebellion as a deep need began to throb within.

"You're not wearing drawers!" he exclaimed.

She dropped a breathless kiss onto the top of his head. "Of course not! I had no desire to restrict you."

"Then you knew . . . ?"

She shook her head, sending her hair flying from its swept-up coif. "I didn't know. I hoped," she murmured, lowering her face to his.

"You little vixen!" he growled as he lifted her from the waist. "I wish for you to straddle me as if you were riding a horse bareback."

Smiling down into her husband's happy face, she fanned out her skirts, nudged one knee on either side of him, and faced him, forehead to forehead as she nibbled his lower lip into her mouth, her hips easing into a flowing rhythm against him. He crushed her to him and groaned his satisfaction.

A throbbing heat gushed at her core, expanding to fill every cell of her body with searing need.

When he released himself from his breeches, she trembled and stilled against him, her breathing erratic. His hands slipped beneath her skirts as he probed her opening, fitting himself to her before the first surge. Surge after surge spiked through her, and just as release was about to settle over her, another surge convulsed her until the surges were overlapping and she heard herself cry out over and over again.

When the surges ceased to slam against her, when she had no more air in her lungs with which to cry out, when she collapsed against his powerful chest, drenched as if she had been swimming, he drew her tightly against him and whispered throatily, breathlessly into her moist ear. "By all that's holy, my love, my Sally, I love you with all my heart."

He held her as if she were his most precious possession, and it dawned on her that her husband did indeed love her with the same debilitating intensity she felt for him. She lifted her face to his. "I'm ever so happy you decided to make me your wife and not your governess. What a wanton governess I would have been!"

He laughed as he drew her closer, and she pillowed her face into his chest for the long, joyous ride back to Bath.

THE END

Win a $50 Gift Certificate

I hope you enjoyed
To Take This Lord
(Book 4 in
The
Brides of Bath
Series)
.
If you did, would you please consider posting a review by the book's listing at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Goodreads, Smashwords or a site where you might have read it? If you do, please send me an email at
[email protected]
and I will enter your name in one of my quarterly drawings for a $50 gift certificate to Amazon, Barnes & Noble or I-Tunes. Each time you review one of my books, let me know, and you will get another entry for each review. This promotion will last all of 2012, with a drawing each quarter.

Thank you from Cheryl Bolen

Other eBooks by Cheryl Bolen:

The Bride Wore Blue (The Brides of Bath, Book 1)

Cheryl Bolen's writing draws you into her fast-paced story. 4 Stars –
Romantic Times

Cheryl Bolen returns to the Regency England she knows so well. . .If you love a steamy Regency with a fast pace, be sure to pick up The Bride Wore Blue. –
Happily Ever After

* * *

For six long years Thomas Moreland has dreamed of the beautiful young noblewoman who rescued him from death. While amassing his fortune in India, not a day passed he did not recall Felicity's fair loveliness, did not recall the silken tones of her sweet voice, did not desire to possess her.

Now a widow, Felicity Harrison does not recognize the handsome nabob as the young man left for dead by highwayman years earlier. Though she wants nothing more than to snub the arrogant man who promises to rescue her family from financial ruin in exchange for presenting his sister to Society, she cannot snub him. She must force herself to bear his company. But the longer she is with him, the more she has to force herself to remain true to her dead husband's memory. Why is it the humbly born Thomas Moreland possesses more nobility that any man of her class? And why is it she finds it harder and harder to mourn a dead man when Thomas's virility awakens her deepest desires?

Buy at Amazon.com

With His Ring (The Brides of Bath, Book 2)

Texas Gold's Runner-up for Best Historical Romance 2002

Highly recommended. –
Under the Covers

Cheryl Bolen does it again! There is laughter, and the interaction of the characters pulls you right into the book. I look forward to the next in this series. 4 Stars –
Romantic Times

With His Ring is a good book. Once you start reading you will not want to put it down. . .The secondary characters are a blast. They will have you laughing right along with Glee's stunts. –
The Romance Readers Connection

If you liked Cheryl Bolen's first installment in her Brides of Bath series set in Regency England, you'll like this one. With His Ring has plenty of sensuality. –
Happily Ever After

* * *

Glee Pembroke has turned down countless offers of marriage because she has secretly been in love with her brother's best friend, Gregory Blankenship, all her life. When she learns Gregory will lose his considerable fortune if he's not wed by his twenty-fifth birthday, she persuades him to enter into a sham marriage with her. What he doesn't know is that she plans to win his heart. She will do everything in her power to make him happy—including mimicking the ways of a "fast" woman since he's noted for alliances with women of that sort.

Why did he ever allow himself to marry the maddening Glee? He'd thought they would have great fun, but at every turn, she exasperates him. Why does she persist in wearing the bodice of her dresses so blasted low? Why do other men persist in flirting with her, his wife? And why in the blazes has his heretofore complacent life been turned upside down by this sham marriage? He finds himself longing for a real marriage, but for reasons he cannot divulge, that can never happen.

Buy at Amazon.com

The Bride’s Secret (The Brides of Bath, Book 3)

(
previously titled
A Fallen Woman)

You'll fall for A Fallen Woman, the latest Regency romance by Cheryl Bolen. .this emotional story of a woman's journey from despair to triumph has what we all want from a love story. –
In Print

A story of healing, forgiveness and change that will make readers cheer. –
Romantic Times

I would recommend A Fallen Woman to anyone." –
Escape to Romance

* * *

Since his commanding officer in the Peninsula took a bullet meant for him, James Moore, now the Earl of Rutledge, feels responsible for the dead man's young son and the boy's exquisite mother, Carlotta Ennis—so responsible that he offers to marry the lavender-eyed beauty. Though their marriage was not to be a love match, Carlotta's torturing presence has James yearning to make her his true wife.

Though she did not love his lordship, her desperate situation forced her to accept his proposal. Little did she know she would come to crave being with him, would hunger for his every touch. If only she could be worthy of the fine man she's married, if only she can keep him from learning her dark secret . . .