Lovers Forever (41 page)

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Authors: Shirlee Busbee

BOOK: Lovers Forever
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Suddenly hopeful about the situation, Avery continued to turn over in his mind the idea of making Tess a widow. There were several obstacles, and rather large ones at that, in his way. Nick would have to die. Killing his rival was not going to be easy, and it occurred to him that it might not be wise for him to be a party to his death—a duel was not the answer. Much better if he were not involved in any way. Then he could present himself as the young widow's sympathetic relative, genuinely grieved by the tragedy that had overtaken her, wanting only to put the past behind them and to comfort her in her hour of need. Avery smiled. Yes, that was much better. He looked thoughtful. There were always all sorts of tragic happenings that could cut a man down in his prime. He would talk to his friend in London. Perhaps something could be arranged....
Pleased with himself, he considered the other obstacles in front of him, and some of his pleasure ebbed. Removing Tess from Sherbourne Court, he admitted sourly, was going to be more difficult than making certain her husband died. The first step must be that the aunts returned home. It was highly unlikely that Tess would return to Mandeville Manor, under any circumstances, without her aunts. But suppose he could convince the aunts that he'd been wild with love for Tess and that passion for her had driven him mad, crazed him? And that half insane with despair by Tess's cold treatment of him, he had dared to act so deplorably? He would have to grovel and beg their forgiveness, but since he'd always had a mostly pleasant relationship with the aunts, he didn't doubt his ability to win them over.
It wasn't going to be easy, he'd be the first to admit it, but it was certainly worth a try. Especially if he started wooing the aunts before Nick died. Perhaps, if he were lucky, the aunts would be safe under his roof prior to Nick's tragic death. His eyes gleamed. And then, of course, grieving and heartbroken, Tess would want to return to her ancestral home and to the bosom of her family—her aunts. The Rockwells might throw a rub his way, but he was certain he could deal with them.
Avery took another long swallow of his wine, viewing his plan from all angles. There was undeniably the possibility of failure every step of the way, he wasn't stupid enough to pretend otherwise, but what did he have to lose? Nothing. And he had everything to gain by trying.
His mind made up, he reached for his quill and a sheet of paper. Some time later he read the appropriately abject note that he had composed. Tess would no doubt reject his profuse apologies and pleas for forgiveness out of hand, but he was confident that the aunts would view his words more kindly. And that was what he was after . . . for now.
He had barely signed his name with a flourish at the bottom of the missive and folded the note before the door to his office was flung open and a tall, willowy figure in a form-fitting dark blue jacket and breeches, a curly-brimmed beaver hat pulled low across his face, entered the room. Avery didn't seem surprised to see him—or that he had not been announced by Lowell. He merely lifted one slim blond brow and said, “Ah, Mr. Brown. What an unexpected pleasure. Do you have good news for us? I certainly hope so—there has been a slight miscalculation on my part, and I must admit that my coffers have begun to run low again.”
Mr. Brown made no reply but angrily flung aside his fashionable hat, revealing a wealth of thick black hair. Almost ignoring his host, he boldly helped himself to a glass of wine, pulled up a chair in front of Avery's desk, and coolly placed his highly polished boots on one corner. He took a deep gulp of his wine.
“I know all about your ‘slight miscalculation,' and I intend to do something about it,” Mr. Brown said tightly. “Furthermore. I've decided that mere money is no longer enough to suit me. I want more. I want it all. Everything. And you're going to help me get it.”
Avery leaned back on his chair. Sipping his own wine, he stared uneasily at his visitor. “And how,” he asked, “am I to do that?”
Holding a half-empty glass in a slim white hand, her black eyes glittering dangerously, Athena Talmage said, “Simply by killing the earl of Sherbourne....” And at his stunned expression, she gave an ugly laugh. “I thought that would make you happy. First, though, you have to understand your position in my plans.” She took another gulp of her wine and then began coolly, “Despite my reservations about you and the way you blackmailed us into making you a partner, our arrangement—or partnership, if you like—has worked very well for the three of us these past months. Your connections in London have provided us with extremely salable information we might not have obtained otherwise and has added to our profit.” She paused and finished off the remainder of her wine. Pouring herself another glass, she went on, “But Frampton and I were doing very well without you. Aside from the information you provided us, you've actually done very little but step into a lucrative operation and cut yourself a share of the profits.” Her voice grew grim, as his actions obviously still rankled. “And the
only
reason you were allowed to do that is because you had discovered our identities and had threatened to expose us.” She swallowed more wine. “But the situation is different now—you're as guilty as we are—you're the one who has passed on the military secrets, and you've certainly never been backward in taking your share of the profits. You cannot betray us without your own part coming out. And I should warn you that I've made arrangements for just that to happen should something, ah,
unhealthy
befall me.” She smiled into Avery's suddenly wary features. “But you have nothing to fear as long as we all understand each other. Frampton and I have always run the greatest risk. You've done nothing but collect a few interesting bits and pieces for us while in London and then sat here and collected your gold. I've decided that's unfair, that you should prove yourself. What I'm trying to say, my dear fellow, is that the time has come for you to, ah, branch out a little....”
Her eyes suddenly diamond hard, she said bluntly, “I want you to talk to your people in London and make arrangements for my dear,
dear
brother to suffer an unfortunate accident. A fatal one.” She smiled when she saw Avery's lips twitch in amusement. “Yes,” Athena said softly, “you will have your heiress—I will see to it—provided she first relinquishes
any
interest in her soon-to-be late husband's estate and you take care of any other claimant who might appear within the next nine months.... Do you understand me?”
Avery nodded, rather amazed at how much they thought alike. The future was looking very bright indeed. With Athena on his side, getting Tess and the aunts to return to Mandeville Manor was going to be child's play. And once Tess stepped foot into the manor . . . she'd never leave it again until she was his legally wedded and bedded bride, even if he had to reopen those damned dungeons Gregory had ordered bricked up years ago and lock her in there until she agreed!
Athena gave him a second to absorb her words and then said cheerfully, “Frampton has nearly replenished the fortune depleted by his father and is ready to, er, retire from the smuggling business—we never intended it to go on indefinitely. You shall have Tess and her fortune, and with Nick gone, as the last of the line, feminine though it be, Sherbourne Court and all the wealth of the Talmages will be
mine
—as it should have been in the first place! If all goes well, in a matter of days, weeks at the most, Mr. Brown will disappear forever and our venture will be ended.” She lifted her wineglass. “Shall we drink a toast to our success?”
 
Some time before the conversation between Athena and Avery, Nick had left his study and gone in search of Tess. Rockwell's comments on Alexander's courtship difficulties and the reading of his grandfather's thwarted love for another woman suddenly made it imperative that he hold Tess in his arms, that he reassure himself that at least
he
had captured the bride of his choice.
It was simple to find Tess, since the carts from Mandeville Manor had arrived and a small army of servants was carrying armloads of various, decidedly feminine objects up the stairs. He found his bride standing in the center of her bedroom, staring dazed at the array of silks and laces, muslins and cambrics, velvets and satins, that were scattered across the room.
She glanced at Nick as he propped himself against the doorjamb and amusedly surveyed the multitude of stylish garments and fripperies piled haphazardly on every available surface. Almost guiltily Tess said, “I didn't realize that I owned so many things! You must think me woefully extravagant.”
What Nick thought was that he was the luckiest man in the world, and he was conscious of an odd feeling in the region of his heart. His bride looked very fetching standing there in the middle of the room, wearing a high-waisted gown of willow green muslin, her red gold hair slipping free of the confines of the matching ribbon with which she had tied it back and tumbling attractively around her lovely face. Her violet eyes were shining, her skin was glowing, and staring at her, particularly at the hint of her sweet breasts, which rose above the laced-edge neckline of her gown, Nick felt a warm heaviness pool between his thighs. Despite their long, intoxicating nights of mutual exploration and passionate lovemaking, he was surprised to discover that he still had only to look at her and his body stirred violently, his blood heating, his breathing deepening, and his sex swelling prodigiously in his breeches.
Half amused by his reaction, he pushed away from the doorjamb and walked over to her. Pulling her into his arms, he dropped a kiss on her nose. “What I think,” he said huskily, “is that you are absolutely
adorable
.”
Tess blushed rosily, her eyes shyly meeting his. “Do you really?” she asked. “In spite of the way our marriage came about?”
He pulled her closer, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft outline of her lips. “Perhaps,” he murmured, “
because
of the way it happened.”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a slight frown, her fingers unconsciously caressing his shoulders and neck.
With her tempting body resting against his, the last thing that Nick wanted was to think rationally, but her question was fair. His own hands wandered irresistibly here and there, and he said softly, “We met under most unusual circumstances— we were not hemmed in by the dictates of society, and in a short time we learned more about each other than our contemporaries would learn in months about their intended spouses.” His voice deepened, his eyes holding hers. “Because of the events leading up to our marriage, I learned that you are brave and valiant and that when faced with adversity you do not whine and mope—you take action.” His lips quirked. “Perhaps not the wisest action, but nonetheless you did not let yourself become daunted by what lay ahead of you.”
Tess made a face at him, and he laughed. But as they stayed there, their bodies tantalizingly close, his laughter slowly faded. His gaze probing hers, he said softly, “But those are not the only qualities that I learned you possess—you are capable of great loyalty and affection—your bond and manner with your aunts is proof of that. Another thing, you don't hold grudges—compelled to marry me, you could have made life miserable for both of us, but you didn't.” He brushed his mouth warmly across hers. “You're also generous, sweetheart, generous in your affection and so wonderfully generous to me with that delectable little body of yours.... Every time we make love, I know that I am indeed a lucky husband.”
Despite having shared his bed several times now, Tess still couldn't help the faint pinkening of her cheeks. Her eyes dropped and she stared hard at his starched, neatly tied cravat, mulling over what he had said. She couldn't help but be flattered and pleased that he thought her brave and valiant and all those other nice things. But while his words warmed her, they also filled her with a strange hurtful ache. She didn't want just to be admired, she thought fiercely, she wanted to be loved!
Not meeting his gaze, hiding the pain in her heart, she said in a stilted little voice, “You're very kind to me. Most men finding themselves in your position wouldn't have been.”
Nick frowned, uneasily aware that in some indefinable way he had hurt Tess. He stared at her downbent head, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. Speaking of his feelings for her hadn't come easily to him—he was thoroughly astonished at how openly he had spoken. He certainly hadn't planned this conversation—it had just happened, the words welling up inside of him and pouring forth before he could stop them or think about what he was actually admitting. And having practically laid bare his heart, he was irritated that Tess had not responded more encouragingly to his words. Didn't the little minx realize, he thought with annoyance, that in his own ham-fisted way, he'd been trying to tell her that he loved—
Nick's eyes widened, enlightenment exploding across his brain. Involuntarily he crushed her to him. With his lips buried in her hair, he said in decidedly unloverlike accents, “You silly little fool! I am
not
kind to you—I'm in love with you!”
Chapter Twenty-four
A
fraid that her unspoken yearnings had made her misunderstand his words, Tess gaped at him. Nick merely smiled back at her, a smile of such warmth, of such tenderness, that her heart lurched in her breast. Perhaps she hadn't misheard him.... Her gaze fixed painfully on his, she demanded breathlessly, “What did you just say?”
Nick laughed, a fierce, exultant joy sweeping through him at the naked hope in her lovely eyes. Pulling her even closer to him, he said clearly, “I love you. I've been in love with you practically from the first second I laid eyes on you at the Black Pig—only I didn't realize it until this very moment.”
He smiled down into her stunned features, watching the soft glow that spread slowly across her face as the meaning and heartfelt tones of his words gradually impinged upon her senses. “Do I dare hope,” he asked carefully, “that my very sincere sentiments are returned?”
Tess made a sound, half laugh, half sob, and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him ardently. “Oh,
yes
!” she cried. “Oh, very definitely, yes! It seems I've loved you forever, and I feared that you would
never
love me!”
“
Sweetheart.
”
Nick had kissed her before, many times and many different ways, but this time the touch of his hungry, yearning lips against hers was undoubtedly the sweetest of all kisses....
It was some time later before either one of them drifted back to reality, and then they could only stare at each other, a bemused, delightfully silly smile on their faces. Oblivious of Bellingham, who had deigned to help with the unloading of the carts and who had started to walk into the room with another armload of clothing, Nick and Tess continued to stare dazedly at each other, their features utterly radiant. Spying them, Bellingham froze. Observing their wondering, moonstruck expressions, he spun on his heel and quietly shut the door behind him. Unaware of the equally silly smile upon his usually stern features, he hurried from the room to spread the word that love had once more returned to Sherbourne Court....
As if gradually becoming aware of his surroundings, Nick glanced around at the disordered room and his lips quirked. “You'd think,” he said with amusement, “that I would have found a more romantic spot in which to declare myself, wouldn't you?”
“Hmm,” Tess fairly purred, her eyes dreamy and unfocused. Like a kitten, she rubbed her cheek against his chest and added softly, “At this very minute, I think that this is the
most
romantic spot in the world....”
Nick tipped her face up toward him. He kissed her warmly and murmured, “And you are a darling! I am a most fortunate man.” With a finger that almost trembled, he delicately traced her features. “Do you know,” he said huskily, “I think that I just might have to thank Avery for being such a black-hearted scoundrel....”
Tess giggled, and Nick was thoroughly charmed and of course had to kiss her again. At the feel of her soft lips beneath his, the sensation of her slender body pressing against his, desire, made all the more powerful and intense by the knowledge that he loved and was loved in return, surged up through him. His kiss deepened, his tongue boldly seeking the warm haven of her mouth.
Tess sighed as his tongue petted and stroked hers, her body filling with a languid heat, her nipples tingling, and low in her belly, she felt the now familiar stirring of passion. She pressed nearer, her body offering itself unconsciously.
Nick groaned. His mouth never left off its increasingly hungry exploration as he picked her up. With his arms full of warm, yielding femininity, he strode toward his own bedchamber. Kicking the door shut behind them, he laid her gently on his bed and his lips slipped from her mouth down to that spot where the blood beat strongly at the base of her neck. He said thickly, “I've never felt this way before—I
do
love you, Tess. I will always love you.”
His words were far more seductive than any kisses, and her arms clutched him even more tightly. “Forever,” she murmured fervently. “I will love you forever.”
There was reverence and passion in his touch as he slowly removed her gown, his lips immediately following the path his hands took, lingering hotly here and there. He was in no hurry, wanting to savor this delicious moment, wanting to show her how much he adored her. By the time Tess was nude, her entire body was burning, aching for him, as his wicked, knowing mouth had explored and caressed nearly every inch of her soft flesh.
Reluctantly he tore his hungry mouth from her fascinating body, stood up, and ripped off his garments. He was gone from her side but a moment, and then she was hauled once more into his arms, crushed against his lean, hard body, her mouth being sweetly ravished.
They had made love many times since their paths had first crossed that night at the Black Pig, but this time was different; the emotions and sensations aroused by each other's caresses were deeper, more intense, and more powerful than ever before. Each touch, each kiss, sent a thousand shimmering, burning, lightning shocks of pleasure flashing through them. Everything seemed more sharply felt, from the gentle rasp of his teeth on her breast to the drugging quality of their kisses. And love made the difference.
Nick drank greedily of her sweetness, his tongue filling her mouth, leaving her in no doubt of his carnal intentions, his hands roaming feverishly over her, his fingers teasing her nipples into hard little buds. He did not want to hurry, he wanted to linger, to prolong this joining, but his need to sink deeply into her slick heat was nearly overpowering.
His member was so tightly swollen, so rigidly erect, that he feared one touch would set him off, and when Tess's exploring fingers closed around him, he groaned, part pleasure, part pain. Trying desperately to ignore the incredibly arousing sliding motions of her warm palm up and down his near-to-bursting shaft, Nick plunged his tongue more frantically into Tess's mouth, his hands cupping her breasts more urgently.
Tess sighed, relishing the obvious signs of how very aroused her husband was, her own body already anticipating the exquisite pleasure of his taking. When his lips left her mouth and closed around her nipple, she gasped with delight and arched up, heat spiraling wildly outward from her breast. Feeling his hands on her thighs, parting them, his fingers tangling in the wiry hair he found there, she grew breathless with anticipation. When he parted the tender flesh and first one finger, then two, slid deeply within her, she cried out, the sensation so sweetly carnal that she could not help herself.
Hearing her cry, Nick smiled tightly and his mouth pulled more hungrily at her breast; the movement of his fingers between her legs became swifter, deeper, demanding a response. She was like silk, he thought dizzily, silk heated until it was ready to burst into flame, and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in that silken warmth, to feel her inner muscles clamp tightly around his sex and draw them both into a vortex of fire.
Afraid to wait a second longer, he caught her caressing hands and pulled them above her head. Holding her an eager, adoring prisoner, he slid between her thighs and lowered himself onto her. A fluid movement of his hips and his aching shaft found its mark. Slowly he sank within her narrow channel, nearly losing control as he felt that hot, silken flesh close snugly around him. Releasing her hands, he bent his head and kissed her welcoming mouth passionately. It was so very sweet to slake his hunger for her kisses, to revel in the sensation of being buried deep within her, to know that at this moment they were one, that she loved him, and that she was his love . . . and yet the frankly primitive demands of his body would not let him enjoy what he had won. Catching her bottom lip in his teeth, he bit down gently as his body began its elemental movements, his shaft sliding slickly in and out of her wet heat, his hips rising and falling against her as they both sought paradise.
There was magic between them. Such powerful magic that it seemed as if they were the only ones who had ever shared this earthshaking emotion.... When it was over, when that final, explosive summit had been reached, when the last tremor of rapture had faded, there was the exquisite ecstasy of finding themselves in each other's arms with the realization that what they had shared together was unique and precious and that they could find it again only in each other's arms.
They lay abed for hours, Tess cradled against him, her head resting on his shoulder, Nick's arm holding her close, the world forgotten. In between gentle kisses and warm caresses, they spoke in soft murmurings, in a language understood only by lovers....
Eventually Nick roused himself to light a candle. Looking at the clock ticking on the black marble mantel, he laughed. Glancing back at Tess, he said, “I wonder what sort of excuse we can offer for missing dinner tonight.”
Tess made a face and stretched, reveling in the way Nick's eyes seemed riveted by the inherently sensuous movement of her body. “Does it matter?”
“God, no!” he burst out, brushing a kiss across the crest of her nipple. Her breath caught in her throat, and he smiled. “If I had my way,” he murmured, “I would keep you in bed a fortnight or two and we would do nothing but this....”
His hands cupped her breasts, his mouth found hers, and Tess's thoughts went spinning away. They made love again, slower this time, less frantically, yet in the end there was the same blinding ecstacy they had experienced earlier.
As pleasure gradually ebbed and she could think coherently again, Tess turned her head and kissed his shoulder. Dreamily she asked, “Do you think that a fortnight or two would be long enough?”
“Probably not,” he replied with a tender smile on his chiseled lips, “but at least it would slake my most
immediate
needs.” His stomach grumbled just then, and he added, “Although, I think that before we continue these extremely gratifying activities we should feed ourselves.” He sent her a lecherous look. “You have caught me in a weakened state—I shall show much more stamina after I have eaten.”
Tess laughed, her eyes dancing. “If you show much more stamina, I shall surely expire before the night is over.”
An inordinately pleased expression crossed his handsome face. “Good! I would not want to have my bride complaining of my prowess in the marriage bed so soon after the wedding!”
Tess smiled giddily, certain that she had never been so happy in her life. It was wonderful to tease with him, to know that her love was fully and equally reciprocated. As she lay there in his bed, her body still limp and sated from his passionate. lovemaking, the future, with Nick at her side, seemed to stretch out before her like an endless golden ray of summer sunshine....
She was so lucky. Luckier, she thought abruptly, than Theresa had been. Unexpectedly a shiver passed through her, and she was suddenly aware of being afraid, as if a cold, dark, menacing shadow had passed over her.
Nick had gotten out of bed and was shrugging into his clothes. She sat up and asked anxiously, “What are you doing?”
He grinned at her as he fastened his breeches. “I'm getting dressed so that I may make a raid on the kitchens and find us some sustenance. You stay right there—I won't be gone very long, and then we shall enjoy a midnight feast.” A gleam entered his black eyes. “And then,” he said huskily, “I shall feast again....”
Nick did not, however, have to go to the kitchens. He opened the door to his room, and almost immediately his gaze fell upon the mahogany cart sitting there—a cart littered with several covered dishes and various oddments. Lifting one lid, he discovered a roast chicken, lightly browned little potatoes artfully arranged around it, and under another, several dainty, golden brown pastries. Guessing even more delicacies were to be found under the other lids, he smiled, an amused smile that spread slowly across his face. It seemed someone had anticipated their needs and had already provided the midnight feast.
He started to roll the cart into his room when he spied two bottles of wine and a folded slip of paper lodged between them. Unfolding the note, he read:
These, along with several others, were laid down
on the day that I married your grandfather. . . .
I've been saving them for some extraordinary
event. This seems to be it
—
at least until my first
grandchild is born! Pallas.

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