Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (39 page)

She’d been horrified and likely would have fainted,
had Richard not pulled her to him and held her.  And in one fell swoop she saw
the nightmare of her past die away, as she felt the hope for a new beginning.

Not with Mr. Parker, of course.  She was too far
beneath him.  But she felt it was now possible to have a life where she ventured
out into the world on occasion.  She would be sad when Mr. Parker returned to
America, but she’d known all along he would.  It would be silly to mourn what
she could not have. 

There was a quiet knock at her door.  It was
probably one of the women from the ship.  Lydia and Angela hadn’t been too
enthusiastic about their guests, and she would have to find homes for them
eventually, but she was glad she was able to give shelter to the women. 

She picked up her wrapper as she padded to the
door.  She opened it to find Richard standing there.  And he looked nervous.

For a moment neither said a word, then he whispered
“May I come in?”

She wordlessly invited him in, then shut the door.

The moonlight illuminated the room enough for her to
see the sculpted muscle and angular lines beneath his dressing gown.  She could
see a triangle of skin near his throat and wanted nothing more than to kiss it. 

“Do you need something?” she asked.

She couldn’t be sure, be it seemed he leaned into
her just a bit.

“I do,” he said.

“What do you need?”

“You, dear Anne, you.”  He leaned in slowly, giving
her ample opportunity to turn away.  But just as his lips were an inch away, he
said “Is this all right?”

“Yes,” she said, right before she surrendered to
him.

It was the sweetest kiss of her life and one that
lighted a fire throughout her body.  In her earlier life, kisses had been few
and far between.  But as they spent leisurely moments kissing, she almost cried
from the sheer beauty of it. She longed for it to never end. 

But eventually he did pull back and Anne had to use
every ounce of her will to keep from begging him to kiss her again.  He placed
his hand on her cheek gently, brushed his fingers across the scars.  Then he
placed his lips at the top, where the knife had sunk in all those years ago and
kissed his way down the path.  He covered each inch of scar, somehow
substituting pleasure and kindness in place of the long ago anger and hate.

“Thank you for letting me do that,” he whispered. 
“I know what it must have cost you.”

She could say nothing, for the tears which welled up
in her eyes and clogged her throat.

He continued onward.  “Now I have a greater favor to
ask.  One I pray to the Lord you will agree to.  Marry me, Anne.  Come with me
to Philadelphia.  Be by my side as we continue helping women.  Make a true home
for me.  Grace my bed.”

“I can’t,” she said with tears streaming down her
face.

“You must.  I do not know what will happen to me
without you.  I have come to rely on your counsel.  I yearn to see your smile,
to hear your sweet laugh.”

“But my past….”

“Concerns me not at all.  It is your future which
interests me.  I live a modest life.  We shall never have much money, but I
will keep a roof over your head and food on your table.  You will be safe and
will never have any reason to fear me.  I’ll protect and love you.  I hope to
give you children.  You believe I deserve a good wife and I am asking you to
make that come true.  Marry me and be my love.”

She opened her mouth to say something – she had no
idea what it would be – but then he lay her gently on the bed, covering her
with his body.  He took her mouth in a gentle kiss, licking at the seam of her
lips until she opened again. 

She had little experience in kissing.  Her two
previous lovers had been more interested in intercourse than anything as tender
as this.  Her inexperience must have shown, because he smiled beneath her. 

“Just relax,” he said.  “We’ll learn each other.”

They continued kissing, pressing into each other. 
Her body was surging with arousal and she’d already felt the sign of his
passion against her hip.  But he was in no hurry to continue onward.  For a
moment, she wondered if he might be a virgin.  Perhaps his interest in her was
because he could be assured of sexual satisfaction.  But before she could allow
that unpleasant thought to poison what was happening between them, he began
undressing her with a deftness that could only come with experience.

When he’d unbuttoned her gown, she rose from the bed
to take it off.  But then she remembered.  “The scars,” she whispered.  “They
are not limited to my face.”

“Please,” he said.  “There is no reason to be afraid. 
I want to see all of you.  I want to love all of you.”

Anne had never undressed in front of anyone else
since the attack.  It would devastate her when he saw the scars and turned
away.  But it was better for it to happen now, rather than later when she would
be even more hopelessly in love with him.

She nodded, then trembled as she dropped wrapper and
gown to the floor and joined him once again on the bed.  He gently – almost
reverently – traced the scars on her body.  She let her hands and mouth roam as
they discovered each other.

Finally, he lay on his back and pulled her on top of
him.  “Lean in toward me,” he said.

After a moment’s hesitation, she did.  She brought
the aching nipple of her breast toward his mouth.  He suckled it greedily. 

She moved closer so he could continue his
ministrations.  Any doubts about his sexual experience fled in the onslaught of
such intense sensations.  Her body was on fire. 

It turned out he was aroused just as much.  “Please
forgive me,” he said.  “I want you too much to take this slowly.”

He pulled her into a straddle position over him. 
She reached down to take his very hard cock in her hands, stroking and
squeezing until he moaned.  She was so wet that he slid into her easily. 

She caught her breath by how he filled her.  She
felt whole for the first time.  And when she looked into his eyes so filled
with tenderness, she felt pure for the first time in many years.

She began to move with him.  He drew her breast into
his mouth, suckling in time with her movements.  He held her to him, his arms
bands of stone.  Pulling her to him, making her his. 

She moved faster and faster as he whispered
endearments to her.  Words of longing, tender, explicit.  She could barely
breathe and couldn’t even think of speaking.  She was afraid that if she opened
her mouth, she’d tell him she loved him.  And always would.  With him she could
almost believe in the possibility of a new life, far removed from the old one. 
Time would no longer be measured in terms of “before and after the attack.”  It
would be “before and after she met him,” Richard Parker.  The best man she’d
ever known.

As she grew closer and closer to her climax, his
breathing grew heavier, his cock even harder.  He pulled back from her just
enough so he could see her eyes.  “Look at me,” he said, his voice a deep
rasp.  “Let me watch as you come.”

She did as he said and they both looked into each
others’ eyes as their passion crested.  It was the most profound experience of
her life.

With a sigh, Richard lay back on the pillow, pulling
her with him as he went.  He kept her against his chest where she could feel
the steady beat of his heart beneath her.

“That was extraordinary,” he said, as he stroked his
hand across her back.  “Only one thing could make it perfect.”

“And what would that be?” she asked, blissfully
happy.

“That we could do this again as man and wife.  Say
you’ll marry me, dear sweet Anne.  Make me the happiest of men.”

“I thought you might marry Melanie.”  Even the
possibility of it made her anxious.

“There was a time I considered it out of duty.  We
seemed to suit and she was in need of a husband.  However, she and I would not
suit, nor do I believe she will be in need of a husband much longer.  But you
and I are meant to be one.  Please say you will marry me.”

She thought of all the reasons why such a match was
ludicrous.  “You cannot possibly believe this would work.”

“I know this would work.  And I will not stop asking
until you say yes.  If you don’t accept the proposal for my sake, pray do so for
the untold women who need our help back in Philadelphia.  For I shall not leave
London until I take you with me as my bride.”

She didn’t say yes.  But, for the first time, she
wondered if it might be possible to accept the proposal she wanted more than
anything in the world.  For the moment, she simply luxuriated in the feel of
being held by strong arms in a warm bed.

Then she reached up and kissed him.  And they began
again.

*                    *                    *

“Lord Heffner,” said Hal, “Pray do me the honor of
addressing you in private.  I have something I should like to ask you.”

Mel couldn’t help but admire the way Lord Henry
Kellington could look so elegant, while bloodied and bruised and wearing torn
clothing.  She herself looked little better.  Indeed, if her brief glimpse in
the mirror was any indication, she looked a great deal worse.  But they’d no
sooner walked into her uncle’s home than her entire family had fallen down
about them, relieved by her safe return.  And she hadn’t even had the chance to
wash and change before Hal had petitioned her uncle.

“Oh, no you don’t, Hal,” she said, walking up to
him.  “You’ll not say a thing to my uncle out of my hearing.  If he grants you
an audience, I shall be right there with him.”

“As will I,” said Aunt Evelyn, who hadn’t moved from
Mel’s side.

“And I,” said Lady Mary.  “I refuse to be left out
of this meeting.  So, shall we go to your study, Papa?”

“It seems I have very little choice in the matter,”
said her father. 

Once they were seated and Lord Heffner had pressed a
glass of brandy into Hal’s hand, along with his gratitude for bringing Mel home
safely, they finally let Hal have his say.

“My lord, I have been one of the worst possible
suitors your niece could ever be unfortunate enough to have.”

Mel’s uncle took a sip of his drink.  “I must say
this is not starting off particularly impressively, my boy.”

“Hush, Papa,” said Mary.  “I believe it gets better
from here.  At least I should hope so.”

Hal bowed to her.  “Thank you, Lady Mary, for your
encouragement, lukewarm though it may be.  Lord Heffner, I have been the worst
of suitors, which is why I faithfully promise to be the best of husbands.   If
you will but grant me permission to marry your niece, I shall spend a lifetime
making it up to her.”

“I don’t know, Hal,” said Aunt Evelyn with tears in
her eyes, “you shall have to live a long life to make all of this up to her.”

“I will take that as a direct order, my lady.”

Lord Heffner smiled.  “You have my permission, but
Melanie is the one who will answer yes or no.  What will it be, child?”

“I do not believe there is a question as of yet for
me to answer.”

Hal Kellington went down on bended knee in front of
her.  “Melanie Sutton, will you do me the great honor of agreeing to be my
bride?”

Melanie wiped away a tear.  “Only if you keep to
your promise to live a long life with me beside you.”

They kissed – right in front of her relatives –
which was only fitting, since Lord Henry Kellington had earned his reputation
as a rake.

Even if he was about to retire it.

EPILOGUE

The announcement had been as shocking as when the
Thames had frozen over several years earlier – and just about as welcome by the
ton’s
matchmaking mamas.  Lord Henry Kellington, the infamous Lord Hal,
was betrothed.  And to an American miss, at that.

No one had realized that Hal had even been looking
for a wife.  And if a few rumors were circulating about a possible scandal
involving his betrothed and a bawdy house, well, Lady Crenshaw, the groom’s
paternal aunt, certainly put paid to them. 

In the same issue of the Times that had proclaimed
the astonishing news, there had also been a lesser seen item, one that had been
met with indifferent shrugs:  Mr. Charles Francis was taking an extended
holiday on the continent and might even extend his trip to India and other
points in the Orient.  What few knew was the reason behind the trip.  Though
Inspector Joseph Stapleton had wanted to arrest Francis for blackmail, it was
decided that any information he might possess would be forgotten if he was
permitted to leave the country.  Thus his trip had been arranged, and after
threats from associates of both Madame Thurmond and Conrad Patton, his
continued absence was assured.

Conrad Patton was wed to the former Arabella LaRue,
nee Susan White, in a delightfully garish ceremony, where Miss Melanie Sutton
and her betrothed were once again in the company of whores and Kellingtons.