More Than a Lover (16 page)

He licked his lips and cupped one of those lovely mounds of sweet soft flesh.

Her gasp of pleasure went straight to his groin. He climbed up on the bed and knelt beside her, resting his weight on his forearm while he kissed her throat, her chin and finally found her mouth, hot and wet and responsive. He stretched out beside her, kissing her lips and caressing her face with gentle strokes until he felt her melt, abandoning all semblance of reserve as her hands wandered his back and chest, likely without her knowledge.

He kissed his way down her throat to the rise of the breast until he found her nipple, hard and wanting. He breathed on it through the fabric. She arched up, seeking more, and he closed his hand around the sweet fullness of her breast and teased the peak with his thumb. She moaned.

He undid the bow at her neckline and opened it to reveal the bounty hidden beneath. ‘Lovely,' he said and bent to taste.

* * *

Each time he made love to her, he managed to surprise and delight her. Never had she imagined there were such a variety of pleasures to be had with a man. The feel of his mouth on her breast, the insistent tug deep in her core that made her insides tighten and thrill, was astonishing. And lovely. And something she would remember for the rest of her life.

During all these years of playing the widow, she had been lonely for companionship. She hadn't known there was this other side to the partnership of a man and a woman. Oh, she knew men took pleasure in sexual congress, for otherwise why would they be at it here, there and everywhere? But she had never suspected that it was so wonderful. That it went far beyond the mere physicality of pleasure to a far deeper level of communication.

At least for her. With him.

She stroked her hands across the warm skin of his wide chest. Inhaled the scent of freshly washed man, the lemony essence of his soap and the aroma of the brandy he had been drinking beside the hearth. Those scents would always remind her of this night.

He raised his head, his gaze searching as he judged her reaction to his attentions, and when she smiled at him and parted her thighs in welcome, he moved over her, pressing one thigh between hers, while caressing one breast and suckling at the other.

The pleasure of it made her hips buck. And the pressure of his thigh against her mons only increased the fluttering ache in her core. The building inside her became almost unbearable.

His hand left her breast and slid downwards to her hip, where he began stroking her thigh and in the process bunching the skirts of her nightgown ever higher. It was wicked and it was enchanting.

He was not alone in his longing for a sight of bare skin. She wanted to see him. Touch him. All of him. One last time.

With trepidation causing her stomach to tighten, she reached between them and parted the robe. His erection brushed against the back of her hand. His groan of pleasure and the way he rolled his hips to one side to accommodate her efforts emboldened her.

She explored the rigid length with tentative fingers. It was hot and hard and silken at the tip.

He kissed her cheek and reached down to curl his palm around hers. ‘Like this, love.'

Love. Such a sweet endearment even if it was not meant.

He set the rhythm of her hand on his member and a groan rumbled up from his chest.

She pulled her hand away. ‘Am I too rough?'

‘Never.' He took her hand again and returned it to his groin. ‘Here, you need to be gentle.' He shifted her hand back to his member. ‘This gentleman requires a firm hand.'

‘Gentleman?'

His shoulders shook a little.

‘Are you laughing at me?'

‘Not at all. Most men have a name for it. Some are crude. Others are more affectionate. Mine is ironic. There is nothing gentlemanly about it, I'm afraid.'

She repeated the rhythm he'd shown her and he rolled his hips, pressing himself into her grasping fingers, and made a sound like a purr. ‘You delight me beyond reason, but we need to slow down or I will be disgraced.' He shifted his hips out of reach, raised his head to kiss her lips. He stroked her stomach before dipping between her thighs and stroking her cleft to dizzying effect.

‘Glorious heaven,' she murmured and ran her hands beneath his robe, wanting him closer. ‘Too many clothes.'

He stood up and shrugged out of his dressing gown, pausing, looking down at her with his arms at his sides. The one forearm missing its hand and wrist was terribly scarred. She took it in her hand and lifted it to her lips. He made a soft choking sound in his throat. ‘Don't.'

‘It is part of you,' she said, reaching out with her other hand to trace the muscles of his upper arm, down his chest to toy with the hair around his nipples, which hardened into tight little buds, the way hers did in the cold and when he touched her there. She smiled at the feeling of power.

Then, unable to resist, her gaze dropped lower. His erection was magnificent, darker than the rest of him, jutting upward from a nest of crisp dark curls. She frowned.

‘Am I not to your liking?' he asked, sounding amused rather than defensive.

Her gaze shot to his face. She blushed. ‘I was wondering if all that—' she waved a vague hand towards his groin ‘—wasn't difficult to fit inside your clothes.'

He grinned. ‘One gets used to it. And it is not always in such a state of arousal.'

Her face grew even hotter, but she could not stop herself from looking again and reaching out her fingers.

‘My turn,' he said, his voice a growl that made her melt inside. She lifted her hips to help him ease her nightdress to her waist, then crossed her arms and drew the garment off over her head.

When she glanced at his face he was staring at her, his gaze running down her length and back again until he was once more looking into her eyes with the sweetest, most boyish smile she had ever seen on his face.

‘Perfection,' he whispered.

She opened her arms and he came to her on the bed, kneeling over her to kiss her, and when he was sure she was ready, he entered her and together they found darkness and bliss.

Chapter Thirteen

B
lade came awake to the unusual sensation of a soft, warm body entwined with his. Unusual for him. Delicious. Incredibly sweet. The sensuality of this woman astonished and delighted. And while he was not her first, he was the only man to have given her real pleasure. A thought that both pleased him and saddened him. Because likely he would not be the last.

She was both generous and loving. The sort of woman any man would want for a wife. He wished... He squeezed his eyes shut. Once a woman, any sort of woman, got to know him, really know him, they moved on, just as his mother had moved on. He preferred to be the first out of the door. There was nothing that made her different to any of the others. He gritted his teeth, knowing he was telling himself a lie. It didn't matter. He had to think of her and the best thing he could do was help ensure she and her boy could stay together.

How to accomplish such a thing was as yet a mystery.

While Charlie was heir to a dukedom, he could hardly interfere. His father would not be pleased.

His own father, the Earl of Hartwick, was certainly powerful enough and influential enough, should he choose to help. Blade gritted his teeth. He hated asking his father for anything. Yet for Caro, he realised he wouldn't hesitate to bury his pride. First thing in the morning, he would send off a letter to the earl, asking for his aid. His father was also a proud man and might not take kindly to a request from a son who had refused to have much of anything to do with him for years.

And thinking of pride, it would not sit well with Caro to be found in his bed when the maid came to make up the fires in the morning. Much as he would prefer to keep her with him all night, he climbed out of bed and shrugged into his dressing gown. It did not take him long to warm her sheets in the other bedroom.

With a heavy heart he carried her back to her own chamber with her snuggled against his shoulder. As he looked down into her peaceful face, his course of action was clear. For her sake, he could not let this dallying continue. He'd taken every precaution to prevent conception, but nothing was certain. While he would offer marriage, should she become pregnant, she would once again be robbed of her choices. That he would not allow.

As he tucked her in bed, she shivered and stirred, but then settled.

So...the dallying stopped now.

Regret left him feeling cold.

* * *

Even as nervous as she was at the thought of meeting her son's grandparents, over the past few hours Caro sensed that things between her and Blade had changed. At every stop along the way, he had been perfectly polite, but he never rode in the carriage and he had refused to stay inside the inn on their second night on the road, preferring to lodge in the stables with Ned and the horses. When he handed her into the carriage whenever they stopped along the road to eat, there was a coolness in his eyes. A reserve in his manner. He was effectively putting her at a distance.

She could only assume that upon reflection, he had been shocked by her boldness these past weeks. Or, which was more likely, having had his fill of her, he was moving on, just as Merry had warned.

To tell the truth, she had shocked herself. If she was honest, she was glad he was able to draw back, since she certainly had no hope of doing so. To openly flaunt her affection for this man before Tommy's grandparents would ruin any hope of a truce. Fortunately, Blade, or rather Mr Read, was far less besotted than she. While her heart might ache for what could not be, it was for the best.

From now on, she would play the part of a respectable woman who had made one mistake in her life and could be trusted not to make another, while she prayed she could rein in her wanton desires.

The road they had travelled for the past few miles was badly rutted and she clung to the hand strap beside the door as she was bounced about like a dice in a cup. What if their undertaking failed? Could she return to the Haven? Merry and Charlie would know the truth about her past. Shame filled her at how she had lied to them. Merry hated lies and dishonesty and Caro would hardly serve as a good example for the young women who passed through the Haven's portals. No, whatever the outcome, she could not return to Skepton.

Decisions made, she could only await her fate at the hands of the Thorntons.

* * *

In the middle of the afternoon, the carriage drew up at a small inn with a thatched roof and timbered walls and Ned came and opened the door.

Of Blade...Mr Read, there was no sign.

‘The captain's gone on ahead.'

She stared at the man blankly. ‘Why?'

‘He's going to reconnoitre the lie of the land, so to speak.'

As if it was some sort of military campaign. It certainly felt as if she was about to battle the enemy. Yet it was wrong to think of them that way. They were Tommy's family.

* * *

By the time she had washed some of the travel dirt from her face, tidied her hair and imbibed the pot of tea the landlady had happily provided, Blade had returned. He strode into the little inn's only public room.

Her breath caught in her throat at his grim expression. ‘They won't see me.'

‘It is not that,' he said.

‘Then what is it?'

‘Tommy ran away.'

Her heart stopped beating. Air seemed in short supply. ‘When?' she managed. ‘How?' Images of her son lost and alone paraded across her vision. ‘How could they possibly have let such a thing happen?'

‘It seems Linette got distracted by a handsome stable lad when she took Tommy for a walk, and it was more than an hour before she reported him missing.'

‘He can't have gone far.'

‘Half the village is looking. The old earl and the countess are frantic. It seems young Tommy has quite stolen their hearts.'

Tears threatened to choke her. She sniffled. ‘Why would he not?'

He handed her a handkerchief. ‘I offered our help in the search.'

‘They refused, of course,' she said, forcing herself not to collapse against his chest.

‘They did not.' The expression on his face said he was perfectly serious. ‘They are terrified harm has befallen him.'

She could not quite believe what she was hearing. ‘They invite my help?'

‘They are hoping you can shed some light on the sort of places he might choose to hide.'

She gathered her reticule, put on her bonnet and drew on her gloves. ‘Then we must go at once.'

‘I've paid the shot and asked Ned to have the carriage ready.' He glanced out of the window. ‘It seems he has done so.' He held out his arm. ‘Shall we go?'

* * *

It took but ten minutes to arrive at the gate to Thornton Manor and another five to reach the front door by way of a drive lined with lime trees that were showing the fuzz of pale spring green.

Several men milled about on the front lawn. All of them ceased talking and watched as she descended. One of them, an elderly man of imposing height, but with a stooped slender build, hurried across the grass and onto the gravel drive to greet her.

‘Mrs Falkner?' It was an older, far more careworn version of the Lord Thornton she remembered.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement.

Mr Read leaped down from his horse and undertook the proper introductions.

Aware of a great many people watching them from a distance, she did her best to seem calm despite her heart racing. ‘Where have you looked? How can I help?'

The old man looked relieved. ‘Read said you were a sensible woman and not inclined to hysterics. Lady Thornton is inside, prostrate on her sofa.'

If hysterics would help find Tommy, she would be happy to indulge. She could certainly scarcely breathe for the fear invading her soul. ‘When was he last seen?'

Thornton grimaced. ‘Yesterday afternoon.'

Her heart lurched painfully. ‘He was missing all night?' Without thinking, Caro shot a glance at Blade's face, her fear making her tremble. ‘He would have been chilled to the bone and scared out of his wits.' She wanted to weep.

Blade stared at her, his face hard and uncompromising. ‘Mrs Falkner, your son is missing. I suggest you put your mind to the task of thinking where he might have gone.'

His words were like a slap to her face.

In that moment, she hated him.

And was grateful for the anger.

* * *

God forgive him for his cruelty, but Blade could see that if she gave in to her fears, she would collapse. She was already teetering on the edge. Making her angry had snapped her out of her panic. At least for now. From the look on her face, though, she would never forgive him.

Likely it was just as well, for it seemed that Thornton in his guilt might well take in the mother to safeguard the child. There couldn't be a better outcome. As long as they found Tommy alive.

‘Does Linette have any useful information?' Caro asked, her voice calm, but her face paper white.

Thornton shook his head. ‘The woman is in a lather, thinking she is to be cast off without a reference.' His grey brows lowered and he frowned mightily at Caro. ‘Seems she is not the sort of gel who one would expect to find in one's nursery, which likely explains her behaviour with the stable lad.'

‘Not relevant,' Blade said.

‘Perhaps I should speak to her,' Caro said. ‘She might be a little more forthcoming.'

‘A good suggestion,' Blade said.

A footman who had been hovering just out of earshot was sent to fetch Linette. While they waited, Caro twisted and untwisted the strings of her reticule, the only sign she was under an enormous amount of strain. That and the fear lurking in her eyes.

A distraught-looking Linette stepped up to Caro, clearly expecting a reprimand. ‘I told him not to go anywhere, missus,' she said sullenly. ‘He were happy enough looking at the horses over the fence.'

‘The important thing is for us to find him,' Caro said kindly, clearly trying not to frighten the girl. Blade had to respect her effort. ‘Was there anyone else nearby when you left him?'

‘Not as I recall,' the girl said. ‘I weren't gone but a minute or two.'

Caro put a hand on the girl's shoulder. ‘Linny, it won't help us if you don't tell us everything you know, every little detail. No one is interested in placing blame. We simply want to find Tommy.'

‘There weren't no one.' Her face crumpled and she gave a little hiccup of a sob. ‘I lost track of the time. It were maybe a good half-hour I was with Mick.' She hung her head. ‘I'm that sorry.'

Blade wanted to wring the foolish girl's neck. ‘A boy can travel a good distance in a half-hour.' He scanned the surrounding parkland. ‘How long before you let her ladyship know he was missing?'

‘It were dusk,' she said, shamefaced. ‘I was callin' and callin', but when it started to get dark I knew I had to tell.' Her shoulders curled inwards. ‘I never meant for anything bad to happen. Truly.'

‘Can you give us any idea of what sort of thing might attract Tommy as a good place to hide?' Blade asked Caro and then turned to Linette. ‘Any places which caught his interest?'

Both ladies looked thoughtful.

‘I'm surprised he left the horses,' Ned said, joining them while one of Thornton's lads took charge of the team. ‘I had to chase him out of my stables more than once.' So had Blade. The lad had a habit of worming his way into the stalls. A dangerous thing when a creature outweighed you a thousand times.

‘You did?' Caro said, looking completely nonplussed.

‘Every boy likes horses,' Blade said, but worried that his voice sounded a little too hearty. ‘What we need is an organised systematic search, so we aren't tripping over each other.' He turned to Thornton. ‘Where have you looked so far?'

‘The house. The outbuildings.'

‘Set the indoor staff to looking again. And have two of the younger lads go through every nook and cranny in the stables and outbuildings. Places only they can squeeze into. The rest of us can spread out further afield. I will take the woods. Ned, you can go east. The stable master and grooms can go south towards the road.'

‘I will go with you,' Caro said to Blade. ‘He likes walking in the woods.'

‘I will take the west,' Thornton said, eyeing the lake. ‘Sims, you'll come with me.'

Blade tried not to think about dragging that benighted pond. It would be the last thing they would do. He certainly wasn't going to ask Caro if the lad could swim.

It took a few minutes to get the servants sorted into search parties and give them their instructions. Each group of men searching outside were given a pistol or a shotgun and told to fire once if they found the boy. One shot and everyone would return to the house.

Finally, he and Caro set off. It felt good to be doing something, though getting the search organised had been good, too. It had been almost like old times in the army, when he'd been a soldier with real duties and an enemy to fight. This time the enemies were time and the weather.

As they walked, they called out for the boy until they were breathless. Blade helped Caro over a stile set in a hedge between them and the woods.

‘Why Tommy? If someone was to be punished, it should have been me.' Caro's voice was filled with anguish and the misery of loss and the agony of guilt.

He wanted to put his arms around her, offer his strength as comfort. Hold her and promise her all would be well. As a mere house steward visible to all and sundry, all he dare risk were words. ‘He's a male of the species. As such he will wander off on adventures. We will find him. You will scold. And all will be well.' He offered up a prayer that he was right.

‘I should not have been so selfish,' she muttered, quickening her pace as they marched across grass eaten short by sheep. The flock off in one corner of the field watched their progress with interest. ‘It is all my fault.'

Clearly his homily had not reached her ears. ‘It is not your fault.'