Sea of Fire (26 page)

A tall case clock in the corner struck quarter past nine. Forty-five more minutes and she’d leave. Nay. She threw the lap rug from her. She had to know if Christian was all right now.

She hurriedly prepared for departure. She was so intent on her purpose, she jumped at the knock on the door. Christian? She raced to the door and swung it open.

“Christian. It is you,” she said over the lump that had formed in her throat. She threw her arms around his neck and tightly hugged him.

His arms circled her back. “What is it?”

“I was worried about you. I feared something horrible had happened.” Her cheek rested against his shoulder while she spoke.

He released her enough so he could gaze into her eyes. “It’s nice to be missed.”

A heat crept over her. She was aware of every part of him. Was she woozy with delight that he was safe, or was it his nearness, or both? She made a feeble attempt to break their embrace.

“Nay. Stay. I’ve missed you, too.”

He missed her? She thrilled at his words. They stood locked in a hug right there on the front doorstep under the starlight with his heart pounding against hers. She didn’t want the moment to end, but alas, it was time.

They broke apart. She waited until they were inside before she asked, “Do you want a cognac?”

“Sounds grand.” He followed her to the parlor and sat on the sofa in front of the fire while she poured the drink.

When she handed him the tumbler, he tossed the lap rug aside with his free hand and patted the sofa for her to sit.

She sat and said, “I don’t want to pry, but I was worried about you. You usually arrive within hours of my missives. May I ask what detained you?”

“Certainly. My mother and father arrived at the town house unexpectedly. They left Knights’ Head, the Traynor estates, worried sick about Adam and me.”

This surprised her, and it must have shown for he said, “I did tell you I have family.”

“I know.” She wondered what his parents were like and how they had reacted to the news about Adam. “What happened?”

“They were relieved to at least see one of their sons.” He swallowed a sip of the cognac.

“What did you say about Adam?”

“The truth. That from all indications he is alive, but not feeling too well. Naturally, this brought on many more questions.” He sipped again. “Won’t you join me.”

“Nay. I think my last bout with spirits has cured me for a time. Please continue.”

“There’s nothing else to say. I told them I couldn’t answer any of their questions yet. My mother wanted to seek assistance from the authorities, but I managed to persuade her to wait a while longer. I sent them back to Knights’ Head with their faith in me that I will handle it. I think my father would have insisted he stay and help, but he was feeling poorly and not up to arguing.”

“I feel sorry for your mother. If it were my son ...”

“At last you understand.” He placed his free hand over hers and briefly squeezed. “What did you want to tell me?”

She gave him a coy smile. Her information would please him. First, she’d tell him about the meeting, and next mention that Walter Bloomfield was questioning Charlotte about Adam.

“Yesterday, I visited Charlotte. Roderick was there. When Charlotte left the room, he told me Adam had agreed to see me.”

“How soon? Where?” He set the tumbler down on the tea table in front of him.

He beamed with excitement and reminded her of a wee lad.

“Actually,” she checked the time on the tall clock in the corner, “I suppose he could call this eve or tomorrow morn, though it would be the start of the third day. He said two days.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I won’t know until shortly before I’m to meet Adam. Roderick did say at an inn near Dublin Castle.”

“This is wonderful.” He reached for her, gathered her into his arms and kissed her several times on each cheek before he released her.

She flushed. Fortunately, Christian didn’t notice. Neither had he realized she had placed her trust in him.

He said, “This is what we’ll do. I’ll stay with you until you receive word. I’ll follow you to the inn—at a safe distance of course. After your meeting, you’re to immediately come outdoors. When I see you, I’ll go to Adam’s room.” He stood and this time poured himself another cognac. “We’re close, Elizabeth. I feel it in my bones.”

“Elizabeth?”

“Aye,” she softly answered.

He came and sat by her then, showing much concern. “I’m sorry. I helped myself. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

She sensed him studying her and glanced up at him. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“Come here.” He held his arms open to her.

Her pulse sped up. “Why?”

“Come here.”

“I don’t trust you.”

He laughed. “Will you never get it right? You do trust me.”

She could feel herself growing warm. She wanted desperately to go to him, but she was afraid—afraid she might do something she’d regret later. She stared at the floral patterns in the carpet until she could stand his silence no longer and glanced up at him again.

He opened his arms to her, again. She stared deep into his eyes. This time she couldn’t resist, and came to him. He hugged her close and said, “You didn’t have to tell me about your meeting Adam. You trusted me.”

She loosened her embrace a bit in order to gaze up at him. He chose the opportunity to kiss her. His lips claimed hers as he crushed her to him. She reveled in his nearness, the taste of him and cognac. She moved against him. His kisses became more impassioned. She returned them with as much zeal, wanting more and unsure what.

When his lips reluctantly left hers, he said in a throaty whisper, “I cannot go on kissing you this way. I want all of you. I want to make love to you, but I don’t want to lose the trust you’ve so recently given to me. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Chapter Nineteen

Elizabeth broke apart from Christian enough to stare up into his glowing amber eyes. She removed her gaze from his and focused on his mouth. The next instant, her lips covered his in answer with as passionate a kiss she could give.

He kissed her back with as much fervor and held her tightly to him. His hands roamed down to her hips. He pressed himself to her. Even through her skirts, she could feel the hardness of his passion against her. It fueled her own desires. She, too, wanted more. She moved her hips against his and pleasured at the contact and sudden swelling sensation between her legs.

He uttered a moan against her lips before he ceased his assault of kisses, and lifted her off her feet. Slowly, she opened her woozy eyes to see his desire-laden gaze, darkened with passion.

He carried her up the stairs to her bedchamber and placed her like she was a goddess in the center of her bed. His gaze remained on hers while he hurried to remove his coat, waistcoat and shirt. She watched as his strong hands deftly untied the cravat of his shirt and tossed off the garment, exposing his dark-haired chest. He tugged at his boots and cast them aside on the carpeted floor.

The swelling sensation between her thighs increased. She desired him more than she could have imagined. She sat up in the bed and removed her gown and undergarments. “I’ve never ...”

“I know,” he said and sat beside her on the bed. He stared at her breasts now exposed to him. He let out a breath and said, “My God. You’re beautiful.” He gently shoved her back against the pillows and kissed a trail from one nipple to the other.

She squirmed in pleasure, running her fingers through his thick head of hair as he did so. He kissed her navel. She opened her eyes to watch him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured again before he stood. His eyes, dark with desire, held hers as he lowered his breeches, exposing his erect maleness.

She tried to control her excitement. She reached for him. He brought himself to the bed and kneeled, hovering over her. She placed her hand around his hard shaft and gave him a tug. He moaned in response and covered her hand with his.

“Not so fast. I barely can contain myself now. I want to pleasure you first.”

He took her hand and kissed it before he partially covered her with his body.

His maleness dug into her thigh, making her even more tingly between her legs for want of him. He kissed her deeply on the mouth and slowly moved his hand between her thighs, gently probing until he found her wetness. The sensation drove her to move her hips wildly against his touch. She wanted more.

“Please, Christian,” she cried in pleasure.

“I know,” he murmured against her lips. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

When she thought it could get no better, he moved himself between her thighs. The head of his shaft searched for the center of her being and gently entered her.

“Hold me close,” he commanded. She did and he plunged within her.

The momentary pain gave way to such intense pleasure, she writhed against him until she burst in satisfaction. She hugged him tight as he moved several times within her and spilled his seed.

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes before Christian rose from atop her, yet kept her cuddled in the crook of his arm.

“You auburn-haired siren,” he said and grinned at her. “I think you killed me.”

She smiled. “Then I pleased you.”

“Aye. And this is just the beginning.”

He grew serious. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “You startled me at first, but I was experiencing sensations I never had that ...” She knew her complexion changed to a deeper shade of pink by the added warmth her words produced.

“Next time it will be even better. I promise.” He affectionately squeezed her shoulder.

In the heat of passion, she hadn’t wanted to think about right or wrong. She had been tired of thinking, so much so that she had allowed her physical needs to take over. She had simply wanted someone to hold her—to love her if only for a night.

Though she regretted none of their lovemaking, she was all too aware of the consequences of such passion. She could become with child. What would she do then? She did not want a husband because he was consumed by guilt, or because he was forced to wed. Even if this knowledge didn’t matter to her, then she would become a mistress like the one he already had. Under the circumstances, her own insecurities would never allow her to trust him completely. Besides, this matter of Adam was like a brick wall between them. When this whole nightmare was over, she and Christian would no doubt go their separate ways.

“What are you thinking about?” Christian touched her face lightly so she faced him.

Not wanting to share her true concerns, she said, “Mary Margaret would not care much.”

“If the serious expression on your face is about her, I assure you we have parted company.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, but only half meant it. Had she decided to be his mistress, she would not want to share.

“Don’t be,” he said and smiled at her. “It was inevitable.”

She tugged the bed linens over her and sat up. She focused on his face—all too aware he lay there fully exposed to her. “This must not happen again.”

The short statement brought him to a sitting position.

“Why not?” He reached over the side of the bed for his breeches. She turned her gaze away when he stood to tug them up over his hips.

“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have allowed you ...”

“You enjoyed it. Had you not said so, I still would have known it by your response to me. Lovemaking is supposed to be pleasurable. There’s nothing wrong, when both people consent.”

What he said was right if the two people were man and wife who loved each other. She never envisioned herself as someone’s trollop nor did she want to conceive.

“You’re wrong. I lied. It was a horrible experience—like two rutting pigs in a puddle. We’ll not do such a disgusting act as this again.” She rose from the bed to gather her gown to dress behind the silk, three-paneled screen.

Christian was quiet for so long, she at last said, “I’m sorry. I hope you’re not angry with me and that this will not affect our common goal.”

She heard him walk over to the screen. His head and part of his upper torso poked around the side. How foolish of her to think he’d be upset. Instead, he wore a wicked grin and had taken the time to dress.

“Quit staring at me like that.” She brushed past him until she was in the center of the room where she stopped to fluff her skirts.

He grabbed her from behind and yanked her into his embrace. He kissed her long and hard until her legs were about to give in from the pleasure of it.

At last his lips left hers. He abruptly released her. “Always the little liar,” he said, and headed back downstairs.

* * * *

Elizabeth rounded the staircase to the kitchen, to make Christian and herself a light bite to eat. Perhaps, the mere act of mastication would alleviate the sudden awkward silence between them. A loud bang on the entryway door brought her to a halt. Was it Roderick’s courier, or a late-night caller like Mr. Clark again?

Earlier, in her excitement to share her news with Christian, she hadn’t given any thought to anyone else who might come to call while Christian was present. Now, she hurriedly returned to the parlor. Frantically, she said, “Christian! Someone is at the door. The hour is late. ‘Tis probably the courier, but in case it’s someone calling on my father—hide.”

Christian stepped lively past her. She followed and watched him take the staircase two steps at a time until he was from sight.

A more impatient knock sounded on the door. She grabbed the handle. She opened the door a crack to see if it was indeed the courier.

“You were expecting someone else, perhaps?”

God in heaven. It was the toad, Roderick. “Nay,” she said. She noticed his carriage on the road. “Let me get my cloak and reticule, and I’ll join you.” She tried to slam the door shut on him, but he’d have none of it.

He edged into the entryway. “You’re not very polite, Elizabeth. We’re not in so much a hurry that I can’t come inside to wait.”

“Under normal circumstances, it would be rude of me.” She defended her actions. “Do you want Hannah to hear? Please, you must return to your carriage and wait for me.” She tried not to sound nervous. Should Christian be
unable to control a sneeze or cough, Roderick would think it was Hannah.