Her Secret Affair (35 page)

Someone betrayed you in exchange for a gold sovereign. That someone was Callandra.

In all the upheaval, Isabel had not had the chance to question Callie. Now, an icy foreboding lurched in her belly. “Should we go after them?”

Kern shook his head. “My coachman will find Callandra and bring her back here. I’ll have a word with her then, and Trimble, too.”

“A capital notion, m’lord,” Minnie said. Smiling shrewdly, she made a shooing motion toward the staircase. “You two go on upstairs and get out of those damp clothes before you catch a chill. And do not fear being disturbed. Persy is napping, and Diana went to Billingsgate Market this morning. She’s likely waiting out the storm in one of the fishmongers’ shops. I’m down to the kitchen to fix myself a nice cup of tea.” She lumbered away toward the door that led to the basement rooms.

Feeling a flush of embarrassment, Isabel lowered her gaze to the floor, where the wood planks bore the wet imprint of Kern’s boots. Why should Minnie’s approval of their dalliance lend it a sordid air? Isabel knew the mortifying answer in an instant. It illustrated the difference between her world and his. No aristocratic aunt would speak so openly of a romantic tryst, let alone give her permission for the affair to take place.

Kern’s fingers nudged up her chin. “Isabel. Look at me.”

She reluctantly complied, aware of the color in her cheeks that he surely must see. The warmth in his eyes traveled straight to the cold place within her.

“Do you wish me to leave?” he said gently. “You have but to ask, and I’ll go. No matter how much I want to stay.”

He loomed over her, his hair attractively windblown. Deep inside, she feared that if he left her now, he might have second thoughts about honor and duty. He might never come back. She reached up on tiptoe to brush a black lock from his forehead. “If I were a lady,” she whispered, “I would tell you to go. But I cannot.”

“You are a lady,” he said with feeling. “The lady of my heart.”

He feathered a kiss across her brow, then caught her by the waist and urged her up the stairs. The firmness of his grip erased the last of her misgivings. She could scarcely walk for wanting him. Her legs had all the substance of melting butter.

When he would have turned toward Aurora’s chambers, Isabel drew him down to the end of the corridor and into a smaller bedroom, closing the door behind them. The decor was extravagantly girlish with pink draperies and lace-trimmed linens. An assortment of dolls sat on a shelf by the canopied bed. Schoolbooks marched across a white-painted desk. In a corner of the chamber, a wooden rocking horse waited patiently for a rider.

Kern took in the surroundings with one contemplative sweep of his gaze. “This is your bedroom.”

“Yes. Mama always kept it ready for my visits.” Her back straight, she wondered if he scorned her for her upbringing. But she held herself proudly. She could not change who she was, a trollop’s daughter. He would have to accept her less-than-illustrious antecedents.

“I thought you had taken over your mother’s chambers,” he said. “You were in her boudoir when first we met.”

“I often stayed there when I felt lonely for her.” Isabel remembered the mixture of love and resentment she had felt for her mother for so long. Softly she added, “I wish I could tell her that I understand her so much better now. She, too, was searching for love.”

“And I believed the worst of you. Can you ever forgive me?” Before she could reply, he moved his hands to frame her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Isabel,” he added roughly, “I need you so much. God knows I should wait, to give us both time to adjust to the changes in our lives.”

She couldn’t bear to think of all the heartache that lay behind them. Her body hungered for another taste of the rapture he had shown her the past night. She wanted to lose herself in the splendor only Kern could give to her.

Pressing herself to him, she let her hands wander freely over his tautly muscled form. “My dearest lord,” she whispered, “all that matters is here and now. I need you, too. More than I ever imagined possible.”

His eyes filled with an ardor so precious she feared she might have dreamed it. He plucked the pins, one by one, from her hair. The long, curling tendrils tumbled downward to her waist. “Beautiful,” he murmured, rubbing the rich, red-brown strands between his fingers. He leaned closer to inhale deeply, his eyes closed as if to savor her essence, and she swallowed hard to contain the ascent of sweet emotion.

Bending his dark head to her, he put his mouth to the madly beating pulse in her throat while his hands skimmed over the curves of her waist and hips. He made short work of the fastenings of her gown, letting it slither to her feet. Within moments, she found herself held naked against a fully clothed male, enjoying the erotic friction of his rain-dampened clothes against her sensitive flesh.

Pleasure ignited wherever he touched her, leaving a flush of fever that encompassed her body. She could no longer resist the lure of temptation. Her fingers crept down to the buttery smoothness of his buckskin breeches and found the ridge of his arousal. Emboldened by love, she took the liberty of undoing the buttons of his breeches until he sprang free into her hand, thick and hot and velvety to her questing fingers.

The breath left him in a sharp hiss. “Not yet.” He pressed her against the bedpost, stretched her arms up over her head, and imprisoned her wrists while he caressed her with his other hand. “First, let me touch you … taste you. All of you.”

He lowered his eyes to her slim body, and her senses reeled under his frank scrutiny. His lashes at half-mast, he cupped the rounded swells of her breasts and played with the pearly peaks. Then he bent his head and put his mouth to her, giving rise to the wild beauty of passion. Excitement sang over her skin, and she could not stop herself from twisting against him. She ached to caress him, to welcome him into her body, but he held her arms captive, enslaving her to his sensual assault.

His hand slid downward, brushing her hips and belly in light, teasing strokes until she edged her legs apart in wanton greed. “Please,” she begged. “Oh, please.”

He kept his eyes on her face as he moved his hand to the dark cluster of curls that crowned her thighs. “You’re mine,” he said thickly, even as he dipped his callused fingertip into her moist font.

“Yes.”
She tilted her head back against the bedpost as her entire being responded to the glory of his touch. Her body moved to the rhythm of his stroking, and when he stopped, she cried out in frustration.

Without any awareness of how it happened, she realized he had released her hands. Like a supplicant adoring a goddess, he knelt before her, cradling her hips. The intimate heat of his breath scandalized her. She tensed in surprise at the thrilling roughness of his cheek against her soft inner thigh. Before she could do more than gasp, his tongue delved deeply, commencing an exquisite tempo that caused her knees to tremble and her resistance to vanish like smoke.

To keep herself from falling, she steadied her hands upon his broad shoulders, letting the wicked sensations carry her higher and higher. And then she did fall, tumbling with a cry of ecstasy into wave upon wave of perfect pleasure.

He stood up and she felt him lifting her, spreading her legs wide to prepare her for the solid, invading force of him. On an upward thrust he filled her completely, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while his masterful arms supported her against the bedpost and his hands gripped her bottom. In a daze of delight, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his damp shirt, her hands clasping hard to the back of his neck. He groaned her name as he moved within her, reawakening the marvelous urgency. Craving all he could give to her, she took him more deeply into herself, again and again. Even as she sobbed out her love for him, her flesh tensed around him, then released her into another luxurious rain of rapture. With a fierce growl of completion, he held her tightly as his body shook with powerful spasms.

He exhaled a ragged sigh into the cloud of her hair. His chest heaved with the effort to draw air into his lungs. For long moments, they slumped against each other as their breathing slowed. Isabel felt utterly drained of strength, even while her heart overflowed with contentment.

Kern gently lowered her to the floor, but the moment her toes touched the soft carpet, the world tilted as he lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed. Then he stepped back. Though her limbs were deliciously relaxed, she wanted him close, and with a small sound of protest, she reached for him. He pressed her back down against the pillows. “Lie still, my love.”

Isabel caught her breath. Dare she hope he’d spoken from his heart? She felt utterly vulnerable, helpless against the sweet rise of optimism. Yes, she could hope. He had shown her without words the strength of his feelings, and she already knew the constancy of his character. He was not a man to use a woman merely to satisfy his own selfish needs. Only a deep, abiding devotion could have enticed him into her bed for a second time.

He looked incredibly appealing, fully clothed with only the flap of his breeches undone. He shrugged off his coat and cravat and shirt, letting the garments drop to the floor. All the while he watched her, his burning gaze sweeping over her nakedness. As he peeled down his breeches, the intensity of his stare ignited a slow heat within her, even though she felt too replete to move.

She wanted to feel his weight on her. Wordlessly, she lifted her arms, inviting him to lie down with her. He obliged, stretching out beside her and tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. His arm settled heavily beneath her breasts and his bended knee rested in the vee of her legs. Her fingers threading through the crisp black hairs on his chest, she sighed from sheer happiness. “I love the way you feel, covering me.”

He tilted up her chin. In a voice vibrant with candor, he said, “And I love you.”

The declaration transported Isabel to the summit of her romantic dreams. She could have wept with joy. “Justin. Oh, Justin.”

They made love again, a slow, sweet mating that took her to the edge of enchantment and beyond. He held her close in the aftermath, their breath flowing together, their bodies relaxing as one. The rain tapped against the window and made their bower all the more cozy, sheltered from the rest of the world.

He gazed steadily at her, his green eyes deep and soft. “We took no precautions again.” His hand caressed her belly. “Not that I’m sorry. I want you to bear my child, Isabel. I want a son or a daughter to be born of our love.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I want that, too.”

He gathered her close, stroking the tangle of her hair. “I shall find a house for you, so that we can have our privacy. Or better yet, we’ll leave London. You wouldn’t mind moving to my estate in Derbyshire, would you?” Without awaiting her answer, he went on, “You’ll love living there, especially in the summer when the wildflowers are in bloom. The hills are beautiful and green, and there’s a fine old rose garden beside the dower house.”

A flurry of raindrops struck the windowpanes. Dazzled by the radiant picture he painted, she repeated, “The dower house?”

“Yes. That’s where you’ll stay. It’s only half a mile from the main house, set in a stand of beech trees.” He brushed a tender, fervent kiss across her brow. “Believe me, my love, I’d like nothing more than to have you in my house, to sleep beside me each night. But at least we’ll see each other every day, take our meals together, go for long walks. Are you accomplished at riding a horse?”

Suspicion prickled across her skin, and she could only numbly shake her head. What was he asking of her?

“Then I’ll teach you,” he said. “We’ll ride to a place deep into the forest where I used to go as a boy. There’s a glade beside a stream where we can lie together, laze away the afternoon. I’d like to see your hair spread out on the grass, the sunlight dappling your beautiful skin.” As he spoke, his hand moved over her, touching her in idle, possessive strokes. “And don’t spare a worry for intruders. There won’t be anyone around to disturb our tryst. The
ton
will be barred from the premises. That way, I can devote all of my time to pleasing you.”

His low, mesmerizing voice aroused her even as his meaning sank like talons into her heart. “You want me to be … your mistress.”

“Yes.” He cupped her face in his big hands. “I want you to be a part of my life, Isabel. A permanent part. I’ll take care of you always. For the rest of our lives.”

She slowly shook her head. “I don’t want an affair.”

He frowned. “Don’t you? But I thought you wanted to be with me. You said you loved me.” He looked deeply into her eyes, and a stillness came over him. The darkness of understanding shadowed his features. “My love,” he said hoarsely. “Did you think we would marry?”

She couldn’t speak. She could only lie there, cold and aching as her dream castle came crashing down in ruins around her.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he looked at her again, regrets tautened his handsome face. “God! I’m sorry. So sorry I misled you. But surely you can see that marriage is impossible.”

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t see.”

“I’ve a duty to uphold, a seat in Parliament to fill someday, a responsibility to society. As much as I wish circumstances were different, I can’t change who I am. I can’t change my station in life.” His fingers skimmed over the delicacy of her jaw. “Neither of us can.”

She struck his hand away. “To you, I’m the bastard of a trollop. I’ll never be anything more.”

“That isn’t true. You’re much more. Or I wouldn’t be here with you like this. I wouldn’t have thrown away everything I believe in.”

“Oh, am I now to blame for ruining your life?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he took hold of her shoulders. “Isabel, you
are
my life. I’ll never abandon you; you have my word on that. Let there be no doubt as to my complete devotion to you.”

She sat up and scooted away, wanting so badly to accept his sordid offer that she had to remove herself from his tempting touch. “And when you need an heir?” she choked out. “What will you do then? You’ll take a lady to wife. You’ll leave me for her.”