Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (18 page)

Two days later, the showdown Heather was looking for arrived. Fallon was here, according to Violet, who had come to fetch her. She waited a quarter hour longer before finally descending the stairs. He met her in the hall, looking calm but reserved. He was unfazed by her tardiness.

Fallon watched Heather as she descended the stairs. She hadn’t seen him, but he took every precious second he had to watch her. His heart was heavy. His stomach felt like rocks had replaced his vital organs. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep, all because of that damn Mr. Bell, Franklin Bell, he had learned so far. He wished time would slow so he could watch her a little longer. As it stood, it looked as though his time was going to run out, his hopes of having a life with her, a home and family, dwindled by the second. Would she be angry or relieved? She cared for him, he was sure of it. She would not have let him take liberties otherwise, and would not have accepted those liberties so eagerly. Heather was as genuine as the sun. There was nothing false about her, nothing devious or manipulative. He would remember her touch for the rest of his days, even when he was a wrinkled old man.

The question burning in his mind, the question that ate at him—consumed him since the moment he woke after that fateful night… would she still marry him? He’d already risked losing her once by not being honest about who he was, and now, his identity was in question again. He wanted to curse the skies like a heathen. He wasn’t even sure he could let her walk away, but as much as it tore him apart, he had to do it for her. If she wanted to go, he would let her. He couldn’t back out of the engagement. The humiliation would never leave her. However, she could cry off, and he wouldn’t be able to stop her. In fact, it was probably the best thing for her.

“We should talk privately,” he said without preamble.

Heather hesitated, her palms instantly becoming damp. “There is a morning room down the hall.” She turned away and he followed her. Her stomach fluttered anxiously. Why, she didn’t know, but the way he was behaving set her nerves on edge. This wasn’t the Fallon she knew. He was acting so strange. Something must be terribly wrong. Perhaps Mr. Bell was who he said he was or maybe he is set to destroy their reputation. Or worse yet, perhaps he was a dangerous criminal.

They reached the morning room, a drab little room with very little furnishing or color. It was obvious the room had been ignored during the old dukes remodeling of the house. It featured one sofa, a padded chair, and a small side table. Heather took the sofa while Fallon remained standing.

“If I knew this was going to happen, I never would have dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything,” Heather returned.

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was put you and your family at risk.”

“At risk of what exactly?”

“Scandal, gossip, any sort of difficulty, really.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I just want you to know that I am profoundly sorry.”

Heather didn’t understand a word of what he was saying. “Have you found something? I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.”

“I’m trying to protect you, Heather. Even if it means I can’t have you.”

At this, she was sure her heart stopped. It painfully started thumping again, and it took her a moment to find her tongue. He got down on one knee before her and took her hand.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No! You’re not being clear at all. What did Draven’s lawyer say?”

Fallon frowned. “How did you know—never mind. He said our suspicion is valid and he will look into it. He has every hope that Mr. Bell’s claims will come to naught.”

Heather sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god. It will all be put to rest then. I wish you would have told me yourself. I had to find out from Draven at the theatre, and still I didn’t hear from you.”

Fallon frowned more, his brow creasing. “He said we should anticipate the papers getting ahold of the situation. They will more than likely drag me through the mud just to sell their newspapers. It will be a sensation, a huge scandal.”

“If it reaches the papers?”

“Heather, it pains me to say this, but I’ve been thinking about what is best for you and your family. If you wish to break our betrothal, I will understand. I could dower you and your sisters, and I would give your mother a generous settlement so you could move on comfortably. The clothes, the gifts—they are all yours. You can even stay here as long as you like, and I will remain at the hotel, or more than likely, return to Scotland.”

“I—” She couldn’t find the words. It felt as though her throat was closing. She stood abruptly, yanking her hand from his. She couldn’t breathe. Every breath she took was painful and not enough to give her air. She turned and ran, the only thing she seemed capable of doing.

She reached her room, barely able to see through the tears. She should have stayed, she should have said any number of things, but she ran like a coward. She collapsed on her bed and sobbed. She loved him. She had wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything, and now he was trying to throw her over. All over the stupid notion that he was doing it for her own good.

Damn him!

She pounded the bed with her fist. Their wedding was less than two weeks away, and he wanted her to cry off. Couldn’t he see how much she cared for him, how much she wanted to be his wife? He was willing to give it all up over the threat of scandal?

She sobbed until her throat hurt—until no sound emerged, and her chest jerked in silence. Once there was nothing left, she drew her first full breath, her lungs and heart aching. She wiped at her puffy eyes, not caring if she streaked her sleeves with tears and mucus. She pulled a pillow into her chest and hugged it tightly. It was a poor excuse for a hug, but it was all she had. She didn’t want to see another living person for the rest of the day.

*

It was well after twilight when Heather moved to sit up. In her bolt from the parlor, she had failed to give him an answer. She could have said the right thing at that very moment, but she didn’t. She had been so dumbfounded and heartbroken she had possibly missed her single opportunity to set him straight. What would she do if her mother had accepted his offer on her behalf?

Somehow, her family had to know, because no one disturbed her except a maid with a dinner tray. She briefly wondered if he had spoken with her mother. What would her mother say? She slipped from the bed and peeked out of her door. The tray was still there, so she lifted it and brought it to the small table near her window. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but her throat was parched. She sipped from the glass of water and tempted herself with a bite of a roll. She set it down and returned to her bed, leaving the glass of water within reach on the nightstand.

Her head was throbbing. She closed her eyes, not bothering to even light a candle or to change. She wanted this day to be a nightmare, to wake up tomorrow and find that there was no Mr. Bell, there was no talk in the parlor, and perhaps it would even be her wedding day. The tears started all over again. She didn’t think she had any left. This time there was no sobbing. Her tears fell quietly while she snuggled into a pillow and somehow, without even realizing it, she fell asleep.

Fallon was in a dark mood, darker than any he had experienced before. He sat in the dark in his hotel room, the glass of Brandy he’d poured hours before dangling tenuously from his hand. He felt like a failure, like everything his father said he would become.

For the life of him, he didn’t understand why Lady Everly had refused the notion of crying off. He had been very generous in the settlement amount, but no. She said it wouldn’t be what Heather would want. Everly’s stand by their word. It felt like an insult.

But Heather hadn’t said anything. She had run from him, as she had before, too afraid of what she needed to say to him.

At least, that’s what he suspected. So, she couldn’t pull the trigger. Well, that was fine. He would do it for her. He sat up and looked around. It was pitch black everywhere except where the weak light filtered through the shutters of his windows. He stood groggily, finding his way to his dressing room and filling a basin with cold water. He splashed some on his face, rubbing his eyes vigorously. He undressed and washed before forgoing his new ducal attire for the comfort and familiarity of his old clothes. They were clean and pressed, thankfully. His new valet took some convincing to keep them. He stepped into his worn boots that were more comfortable than the buckle shoes he wore of late and left his room. The lobby was almost empty. The doorman barely spared him a glance as he left. He hailed a hackney outside and gave him his address. It was late, almost eleven, he saw when he past the grandfather clock in the hotel lobby. He wasn’t sure Heather would be home, but he didn’t think her or her mother would be in the mood for parties presently.

The house was dark when he stepped out and paid the coachman. He climbed the steps and used his key to let himself in. All was quiet inside, no candle left burning. He assumed that meant that everyone was here and were likely sleeping. He was careful to not make any noise as he climbed the stairs, taking slow, even steps to anticipate the creaks. He made it to Heather’s floor and slowly traversed the hall to her door. He tried the knob. It was open. He hesitated… What if he frightened her and she screamed? He let go of the handle and instead, he scratched at the door. He didn’t think she would hear, and he debated about his next move, but then he heard soft footfalls and the handle turned.

“What is it?” She peaked from the door. There was a soft glow from a candle behind her.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, but we need to speak, preferably privately, where we will not be disturbed.”

Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice. “Fallon? What are you doing here?”

“Just come with me, Heather.”

She looked wary, but she left his view and returned in a dressing gown. “I’m not sure there is a place here where we won’t be heard at this time of night.”

“The master suite is the farthest room from both servants and your family. “I know… it may be uncomfortable, but it’s the only place I could think of.”

She nodded and slipped out of her room. She closed the door softly, and Fallon led the way. They reached the gallery, still devoid of paintings. Fallon opened the large doors and waved Heather in. He found candles and matches, and then lit a small fire in the hearth. Heather took a chair by the fireplace and sat, tucking her feet under her gown.

“I’m sorry I have disturbed you at such an hour, but this couldn’t wait any longer.” He took a seat across from her, watching the firelight dance over her profile. Keeping his distance was best. If he touched her, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from kissing her.

“You’ve gone to great lengths to say what you came here to say, so go on.” She didn’t look at him.

Fallon watched her for a moment longer, his chest aching with the force of his emotions and his heart beating heavily behind his ribs. He didn’t know where to begin, or even how to begin. His thoughts fought to become orderly. He sat in the high-backed chair, uncomfortably tense, and eager to be closer to her. He wasn’t sure he knew the words to convey all that he felt. He took a deep breath, preparing to tell her all the things he wished for her so that she would know he was only thinking of her needs. He opened his mouth. His tongue felt like a stone. He closed it and swallowed, then cleared his throat. He tried again, but a sudden thought came to him, and all of a sudden, he knew exactly how he wanted to begin. It was perhaps the single most important thing he would ever say to her.

“I love you.”

The words feel into the space between them. The only immediate answer came from the fire as it popped. She still didn’t look at him, but her bottom lip was trembling, and her eyes were shining in the firelight.

“Heather, I love you. I want you to know that before I say anything else.” He leaned forward in the chair to see her reaction, but it wasn’t enough. He slipped to the floor before her chair. He was on his knees before her now, but he could see her face completely. She closed her eyes, a tear made a valiant escape down the curve of her cheek. He reached up with one finger and caught it.

“All I want is what is best for you. Despite how I feel, I am going to call off the wedding.” The words were much harder to say than he had anticipated. It felt so terribly wrong, like he was missing a limb from his body, and he had no recollection of where it had gone.

Heather moaned in distress and covered her face, and then she lurched forward and buried her face in his neck. She wept against his hot skin. “No. I don’t accept this.”

Fallon was struggling to remain in control. He hadn’t shed a tear since he was a boy, but he was perilously close now. “No?”

Heather pulled away enough to look into his eyes. “I love you.” She emphasized each word. “I won’t let you walk away simply because you’re afraid of causing us more scandal. I’m tired of being afraid, Fallon. I’m tired of living this tenuous life based on the opinion of others. None of it matters to me anymore. I want you more than anything.”

“Heather…” Her name was like gravel across his throat. It took all his restraint to not crush her against him.

“We will marry with all the pomp and fuss my mother has orchestrated. To hell with Mr. Bell, to hell with anyone who dares to whisper unkindly about us.”

“Oh, God, Heather.” He wrapped his arms around her and she slipped off the chair, joining him on the floor. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I’m not letting you go.” She rained kisses over his face and neck.

“I thought you were angry with me. I thought you were too afraid to admit that you should cry off.”

“I was angry, and perhaps a little afraid, but only because you had changed so suddenly. You grew distant when we should have gotten closer. We are already a family, the five of us, and you were just slipping away, preparing to walk away.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I am stronger with you. Together, no one can hurt us, not even if your father rose from the grave to stop us.”

Fallon rested his head against her chest and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“You defeated my dragon, let me defeat yours, oh valiant knight.” She tilted his face up to look at him, stealing a quick kiss. “It’s time to let him go. The past is the past and its time you left it where it belongs… behind you. He may have left a hole in you, but I promise to fill it with memories of us, and memories of our children. You can let it all go now.”

He kissed her abruptly, roughly, and with such need, it stole her breath. She clung to him tightly, taking needed air through her nose and kissing him back with everything she had in her. She said her peace, and he had said his, but he hadn’t said all that he should have. She pushed against his chest and broke the kiss.

He was panting, his eyes wild with passion. “What is it?”

“In one week, I am walking down the aisle of St. Georges. Will you be standing there to meet me?”

“Nothing on this earth can stop me now.” He took her lips again and stood with her in his arms.

Pure, unadulterated joy bloomed like a wild rose within her, and with it, tears of happiness fell unhindered. He carried her to the bed and set her down. She watched him, mopping her eyes with the sleeve of her dressing robe as he pulled off his jacket and shirt. New feelings awoke inside her. Passion and liquid hot desire pooled low in her belly as she lovingly caressed his bare chest with her eyes. She couldn’t wait to press her bare breasts against him again. She reached for the tie of her robe.

“No, let me.” His hands replaced hers, slowly opening one side and then the other. She was almost shaking with anticipation as he pulled the robe down to her hips. She wiggled her arms from the sleeves and waited. His hands moved to the tie of her nightgown, slowly unraveling the bow and stretching the drawstring neck loose until it slipped over one shoulder. He stopped to touch that shoulder, his fingers light as they coasted over the curve and then back to slip under the neckline. She inhaled in excitement. He loosened the neck some more and pulled it down, freeing her other shoulder and the nightgown fell to her hips.

His eyes consumed her. She felt burned wherever they touched. He climbed up onto the bed and urged her further back. She moved out of her gathered clothing and lay back against the pillows completely naked.

“You are so beautiful,” he expressed with awe. His hand reached up to cup her breast and Heather turned towards him. She was eager to be close to him, to feel the fire of desire singing through her veins. He smiled down at her as she nuzzled closer, moving his hand to curve around her hip to her back. She slipped her arms around him, pulling him even closer, sighing with delight as the coarse hairs covering his chest abraded her nipples.

“Don’t stop this time,” she begged. “Whatever happens, we will marry. I will never belong to anyone but you.”

He turned his face into her neck and breathed deeply. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, little flower.”

“Take me, Fallon,” she urged.

He turned his head and caught her lips, kissing her hungrily, using his lips and tongue to convey his need. He clutched her bottom, thrusting his hardness against her.

“Yes,” she moaned.

He reached between her thighs, tenderly touching her velvet flesh. She was already damp with need, ready for him. He groaned. How could he ever hold back now? There was no going back, she loved him, and he confessed his love to her. Whatever happened now, they would face it together.

She squirmed against him, her hips bucking and searching for the delicious friction. She knew what she wanted, how glorious the completion felt.

“Slow down, little flower,” he soothed. He dipped his fingers inside her, knowingly exploring and pushing her further this time, readying her. She moaned against his mouth, breaking the kiss to pant against his neck as he tortured her with caresses.

She was so wet and slick, as ready as she would ever be. He reached for the placket of his breeches, efficiently unbuttoning them and pulling them down over his hips. He wiggled free of them, kicking them off the bed. His erection sprang free, hot, and engorged with unspent lust. He lifted her leg over his hip, nudging her wet folds in tormented anticipation. “How much do you know about the act of love?”

She shook her head in the negative, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. “I know only what you’ve shown me.”

Fallon bit back an oath and clenched his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to drive into her. He was so erect it was almost painful. “My body was made for you, Heather, and yours for me. We will fit together like a lock and key. It will hurt at first, but it will go way as long as you are enjoying it. You have to tell me if it hurts too much. Your pleasure is paramount. Do you understand?”

“Yes, please, Fallon,” she cried.

He stroked his manhood against her some more, coating himself with her natural lubrication. He teased the entrance of her body, sliding against it first and then entering just the slightest. He played this game until he was sweating and nearly shaking with restraint. She was bucking against him, chasing him with her hips.

“I love you, Heather,” he moaned as he thrust deeper inside her, slowly at first until he met resistance. He pulled out just a little, thrusting again to let her become accustomed to the sensation. He eased his way further, meeting her maidenhead, forcing it to give just a tad.

Heather moaned in frustration. “Please, this feels… odd.”

He almost laughed. “Patience. Now is the time for patience. I’m going to thrust all the way home now. This is the part that will hurt. Are you ready?”

She nodded agitatedly.

Fallon rolled them until she was fully on her back and he supported his weight on his elbows. He pulled back almost all the way, and then flexed his spine. He thrust powerfully, surging through her maidenhead until he was fully seated within her. She squeaked a little and lay still beneath him. Fallon held himself still, waiting for her muscles to relax around him.

“Are you all right?”

Her face was tense, but she nodded yes.

“Relax if you can so I can make it better.”

She took a deep breath, relaxing her face and hands and then the rest of her body.

Fallon slowly moved, just enough to stimulate the sensitive nub in the folds of her womanhood. He pulled her legs up around his waist and moved again, this time setting a slow, easy rhythm. She still didn’t move, but neither did she look to be in pain. He kept his pace, rubbing that sensitive nub, using it to reawaken her passion. He bent and kissed her, relieved when her lips responded to his. He put one hand under her buttocks to move her with him.