Surrender to the Earl (21 page)

Michael laughed.

T
hat evening, when neighbors arrived to join them for dinner, Audrey listened to the ease with which Robert moved between so many levels of Society, from the servants to his friendship with the absent duke. She heard the respect in the voices of the servants, and the relief of the neighbors as they got to know Robert. From everything she’d heard, his father was not a man people liked, even if they respected him. The neighbors seemed glad to know Robert was his own man in that regard.

Audrey knew how hard he’d been working to be a better man than his father, so that his neighbors could know to trust him, so that his servants could act on their own without fear.

She could not contain the depths of her admiration for him, and feeling scared and worried and excited, she knew she was coming closer and closer to accepting his marriage proposal.

To top everything off, he asked Blythe to perform for his guests after dinner, allowing her to shine, and making Audrey feel all choked with emotion at his very goodness.

To her surprise, Blythe asked her to join in, and the two sisters sang a duet while Audrey played. Audrey later wondered how she’d gotten through it without crying. With Robert’s help, she had her sister back again, and she was living the life she always wanted.

That’s when she knew she was happy, happier than she’d ever been in her life. And all because of Robert. She had fallen in love with him. How could she be afraid of that?

But . . . what if he didn’t have the same strong feelings?

A
fter Blythe had retired for the night, Audrey wandered about the bedroom feeling restless, her thoughts churning. She counted paces between furnishings, wondering if that would at last tire her mind.

There was a faint knock on the door, and feeling relieved, she opened it. “Blythe, you couldn’t sleep either?”

“It’s me.”

Robert’s voice was quiet and deep, and she found herself clutching the door to keep from throwing herself into his arms.

“I—” she began, then had to moisten her lips. “I didn’t expect you.”

“I came to see if you enjoyed the day. Might I come in?”

She’d been alone with him so many times—why did this feel so different? Perhaps it was because of the big four-poster bed looming behind her, or that she was only wearing her nightdress and dressing gown.

She stepped back, opening the door wider. “Please come in.” She shut the door behind him, and knew she’d taken a step into the unknown, where she might at last be able to find the answers she sought. Turning about and leaning against the door, she smiled at him. “I had a lovely day, Robert. Lord Blackthorne and his wife are gracious, kind people.”

“I agree.”

She gave a little start, surprised that he was so close.

“But do you want to know the best part of the day?” he continued, his voice becoming husky. “It was having you at my side, as my hostess. This place suddenly felt like a home to me.”

“Oh, Robert.”

When he took her upper arms in his hands, she lifted her face for his kiss. Their mouths were greedy in their exploration, hot and wet. She found herself falling back against the door, trapped by his big body pressing into hers. They were wearing so little clothing that she could feel the hard indentations of his chest, and the way his heart pounded against hers.

She felt herself coming alive. Robert was kissing her as if she were the finest wine and he’d never been so thirsty. He burrowed his face into her neck, tasting her skin, nipping at her until she shuddered.

And then she felt his hand move along her side and up her torso, cupping her breast, making her gasp at the burst of heat and sensitivity and exquisite pleasure. He kneaded her through the thin silk garments, rubbing the hard point of her nipple between his fingers.

She was restless and trembling against him, feeling as if she’d fall to the floor if she couldn’t hold onto him. She bunched his shirt at the back and pulled, until she could touch the hot skin of his lower back. It seemed wicked and daring, and made her only want more.

She felt her dressing gown part, her hair come loose under his fingers, and he kissed his way down her neck. Dropping to his knees, he spread her gown wide even as he kissed a line down her collarbone and between her breasts. She felt the touch of his whiskered cheek against her breast a moment before he took her nipple into his mouth right through her nightdress. She cried out and arched her back, as if she could press all of her inside him.

He caught one of her knees up against his side, moving his torso between her thighs even as he continued to suckle and lick at her breasts. He felt strong and hot against the intimate depths of her body, and she shamelessly rubbed herself against him.

Her nightdress brushed against her legs as he slowly drew it up her body, separating just long enough to drag it along her sensitive skin. She was the one who took it on its last journey, pulling it up and over her head, feeling her hair fall down all around her nakedness, the brush of it suddenly as erotic as his fingers.

And then she realized how pale a thought that was, because his fingers began to touch her everywhere, even as he still knelt at her feet. Out of the darkness, his caresses skimmed her ribs, her hips, behind her knees, sliding along between her thighs. When his hands palmed her hips, she felt the brush of his thumbs along her curls, sliding deeper into her wetness, parting her.

And then he kissed her there, and she cried out, trembling, her hands pressed to his shoulders to hold herself up. He licked her, teased her, suckled her, and just when she climbed toward that peak of pleasure for only the second time in her life, he suddenly rose and swept her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. Though he set her down gently, she could hear movement, and knew he was tugging off his own garments. Not caring if she impeded him, she explored the flat ripples of his stomach, tugged at the buttons of his trousers, then heard him groan as she palmed the hard length of him through his undergarments as his trousers sagged down his hips.

“Hurry,” she whispered, falling back on the bed.

Without shame, she threw her arms wide against all the pillows, arching her back, displaying herself for him, feeling beautiful and desirable, all the things he’d brought to life in her. The mattress sagged with his weight as he crawled toward her. He spread her thighs with his big hands, then settled between them, over her, holding most of his weight with his hands on either side of her head.

She felt his erection hot and hard against her, sliding the length of her once, twice, until she moaned her need of him and clutched his body closer. And then he slid home, deep inside her, and there was no pain, just the fullness of knowing they were joined together at last.

Chapter 21

R
obert didn’t move—couldn’t move—staring down into Audrey’s flushed face, her eyes half closed, her lips moistly parted. He’d never felt so connected to a woman, had never come so close to pure bliss, pure sensation.

But the urges were strong inside him, and she was making the most erotic little gasps of pleasure. He bent to kiss her, to take in the sounds she made when he first began to move.

They shared a moan, and he kissed her deeply, mimicking with his tongue what he was doing to her body. Her knees lifted, her thighs clutched his hips, and he rolled against her in slow building movements. He reached to capture the fullness of her breast again, and watched in wonder as she found her pleasure, the depths of her body shuddering all around him, her face full of joy and contentment as the last waves of it moved through her.

He couldn’t wait any longer, driving into her over and over until the passion took him away, and he poured himself inside her.

Then stillness came over him as he enjoyed the press of her moist skin along every inch of his. He braced himself on his elbows and looked down into her face. He wasn’t certain of her expression, and he found his thoughts returning to the first moments in her room, how he hadn’t even asked her permission, had just swept her away with his kisses and passion.

Had he seduced her in an attempt to control? He’d come to her room with deliberate intention after all. He found himself questioning everything he’d been doing all along, making her think he was indispensable when he’d told himself he was only trying to help. Had he just been trying to have his way?

But they could have a good marriage, he knew that, and they both wanted children. He could make this work.

“Are you all right?” he murmured, kissing her cheek and her temple and the tip of her nose.

“Hmm.”

Her response was a hum, and her satisfied smile a balm to his guilty conscience.

“I saw your freckles at last.”

She giggled, and even that slight movement of her body was enough to make him fully erect again.

With a little gasp, she moved beneath him. “So soon?”

“Not if you’re tender,” he insisted.

“Oh, I’m not tender.”

And before he knew it, they were rolling around on the bed, until at last he pulled her on top and watched her discover the pleasures of mastering him.

“Oh my!” she gasped, falling down onto his chest when it was over.

Both of them were breathing hard, moist with perspiration.

“If I’d have known it was this much fun,” she said, “I’d have been a scandalous widow before now.”

He pinched her backside. “You’d better watch it. I’ve now seen all those freckles you thought you’d keep hidden.”

She laughed and rolled off him, not even bothering with a sheet, comfortable with her nudity. And that aroused him all over again, but he restrained himself with difficulty. He came up on his side, resting his head on his bent arm, letting the other hand trail along the curves of her body. Her eyes were half closed, and she moaned softly when he lingered on her nipples.

“You must stop,” she whispered. “You can’t stay here tonight.”

He thought about being with her every night, wanted to remind her that all she had to say was “yes,” and they’d never be separated again.

But he didn’t want passion to be the reason she accepted his proposal. That seemed too . . . underhanded on his part.

As if he hadn’t been underhanded in so many other ways, he thought with regret.

He leaned down to give her a soft kiss. “It’s difficult to leave you.”

“But you must.” She yawned. “You have exhausted me, and how will I face your guests with circles under my eyes? They’ll know—”

“They’ll know that an engaged couple couldn’t keep their hands from one another for one more moment.”

She smiled, but didn’t respond, and at last, he sat up and left her bed. As he dressed, he watched her. She drew the sheet up at last, but he knew the chill of the room had more to do with that than shyness. She could never be shy with him again.

When he was ready to leave, he leaned over her, making her sink slowly back into her pillows until he was above her. He kissed her long and deep, not touching her in any other way.

“Good night, sweet Audrey,” he murmured against her lips.

“Good night.”

He thought she was about to say something else, but all she did was give him a soft smile that he took with him into his dreams.

A
udrey awoke feeling more relaxed and happy than she’d ever felt in her life. Her body was tender in spots, but not painful, only a reminder of Robert’s passion, and that felt delicious.

She thought she might feel embarrassed at breakfast, but any of that was overwhelmed by the somber knowledge that she was leaving right after. She tried to enjoy each conversation with Robert, Blythe, and the Blackthornes, to make the meal last, but soon enough it was time to leave.

At the carriage, Robert held both her hands. “It’ll be a day or two before I can come to you, no later than your tenants’ feast, I promise.”

“It will seem a long time,” she murmured, squeezing his hands.

“You’ll miss me?”

“I always do.”

And then he kissed her cheek in front of everyone, and she didn’t mind in the least, only found her smile growing tremulous as she waved good-bye out the window.

“He still has his arm upraised,” Blythe said, her words trailing off in a sigh of happiness. “I think he truly loves you. Don’t you?”

“I—” Audrey hesitated. “I don’t know about his feelings, but I love him.”

Blythe gave her a swift hug before settling back on the bench at her side. “I knew it,” she said with satisfaction.

Audrey could only laugh. She would not allow her doubts to assail her, only thought of the next time she would meet with Robert, the next time she could show him with her body how she felt. And she trembled at the memories, and hugged them tight to herself all the way home. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

T
wo days passed swiftly, and Robert enjoyed his own home more than he ever had in his life. Sharing it with Michael and Cecilia made all the difference in the world—as did the knowledge that soon he’d be sharing it with Audrey. Regardless of her “scandalous widow” comment, he knew she wasn’t the type of woman to have an affair and then forget him.

He still saw her face in his dreams, the last time he’d kissed her good-bye, the hope and the tenderness she hadn’t bothered to hide. And when he wasn’t seeing her face, he was remembering her passionate lovemaking until he could barely fall asleep at night for wanting her.

When Michael and Cecilia heard about Audrey’s tenants’ feast, they asked if they could attend, and the three of them arrived together. There were pavilions thrown up across the grounds, tables and chairs being set up by the Sanfords as well as workers Audrey had hired from the village. People scurried about, but with a sense of happy anticipation.

Robert smiled at it all, until he saw Audrey in the garden, holding Louisa Sanford’s little boy, Molly standing nearby, the puppy on a leash. His eagerness to see Audrey felt doused with cold water, and he couldn’t quite understand his own uneasiness.

“Who is the little boy Audrey is holding?” Cecilia asked as they walked through the grass.

“The son of one of Rose Cottage’s maids,” he said.

But Michael’s gaze sharpened on him, as if Robert’s voice had revealed too much to his good friend.

Audrey heard the gravel crunch beneath their feet and lifted her head, her brilliant smile for the boy fading.

“Good morning, Lord Knightsbridge,” Molly said.

Audrey’s expression softened with pleasure, and Robert felt some of his concerns fade—not all.

“Robert,” Audrey said. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you. But before we become all sentimental, I’ve brought Michael and Cecilia, too.”

“What a lovely home you have, Audrey,” Cecilia said.

Audrey’s smile widened to a grin. “How wonderful that you’ve come! All our plans are going well, and everything will be ready for the feast this afternoon. Molly can show you both inside where you can refresh yourselves.”

“I’ll remain and speak with you,” Robert said.

Her expression was quizzical, but she turned to Molly. “Can you return Arthur to Louisa? She must be done helping her mother with the tarts by now. I’ll keep the dog. Bye-bye, Arthur.”

She gave a little wave, and the boy waved back. Everyone headed for Rose Cottage, and Robert squatted down to pet the puppy.

“Does he have a name yet?” he asked.

“Victor,” she said. “Molly came up with it. For Queen Victoria.”

“A good name.” And then he rose to his feet, and they stood there, separated, but so recently joined together. For just a moment, he let the pleasure of looking at her, being with her, overtake his concern.

She smiled almost shyly. “What are you doing?”

“Remembering.” He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice. “Remembering how you look naked, by candlelight.”

She blushed, her eyelids lowered, a sweet smile curving her lips. “Robert, you shouldn’t speak so.”

“I think I’ll have to make love to you outdoors.”

Her eyes flew wide. “Robert!”

He laughed and took both her hands to kiss them, wishing no gloves separated her skin from his lips. “Then I’ll change the subject to something more serious. Perhaps this will discomfit you, but I’m concerned about your closeness to Louisa’s son.”

To his surprise, her smile softened, and she reached up to touch his face. “I cannot believe how well you see what’s inside me, Robert.”

“You don’t seem to mind my concern.”

“I understand it. There were moments when I first learned of Arthur’s existence, that I felt too . . . connected to him. He is Martin’s son.”

She hesitated, as if she was about to tell him about her son who’d died, and then changed her mind. He was surprised to feel sorrow because she didn’t want to share her private pain with him—but he hadn’t shared his secrets either.

“I even considered making him my ward, giving him the education Martin should have given him. But then I realized that Louisa was actually afraid of my involvement—that the whole family feared I could take him away. That was a power I’d never had before, and I felt sickened that I didn’t initially see how wrong it was. I was shocked back into realizing I couldn’t live my life through other people.”

“You don’t need to do that, Audrey. Live your life with me, and we can have our own children.”

To his surprise, she gave him an enigmatic, even flirtatious smile. “We’ll talk later. I have guests to prepare for just now.”

As he escorted her back to the house, Robert felt a renewed sense of hope. She’d made love with him, and she hadn’t denied his desire to marry her. He felt like everything he’d ever wanted—the family he’d never truly had—would finally be his.

A
udrey had never imagined how wonderful it would be to be a hostess to the people who depended on her just as she depended on them. She owned the land, but they had the labor to make it fertile, and she was so grateful to be able to show her thanks, and her promise of a long partnership in the future.

Her puppy, Victor, spent much of the afternoon with her as she moved from pavilion to pavilion, table to table. Sometimes Blythe was with her, other times Robert, and she heard in the voices of her tenants the gratitude at having a new landlord who cared, the promise of future stability. And it wasn’t just because of Robert and his title, but her own belief, her own desire to be a part of this community.

Even Mr. Sanford sounded proud, and she knew that at last she’d won the trust of her servants, and she returned that trust in kind.

Blythe was more grown-up and gracious than Audrey had ever dared to hope, mingling with people of a different station than her own, but still winning them over with her charm and genuine joy, something Audrey had never heard in all the long years they’d lived together—no, that wasn’t true. Blythe’s unhappiness had only evolved since their mother’s death, and their father’s conviction like a stain upon the family that Audrey was too embarrassing to ever be seen. It seemed like a dream to her now, an ugly dream soon forgotten, now that the world had opened up to her.

And then there was Robert, moving smoothly between the Blackthornes and the meekest shepherd with equal ease. She had never imagined she would find a man to bring her happiness—and it was because of Martin she’d even met him. But she glowed with an inner fire when she was near him, could not stop smiling up at him, and accepted his hand whenever he reached for her. Their engagement was becoming real, and she felt so blessed and happy.

All she’d have to do was say the magic words, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” and her new life would spread out before her, with a loving husband and perhaps the children she’d been afraid to hope for.

It all came down to trust, and at last, she was starting to believe he was trustworthy.

That evening, after the grounds had been restored to pristine gardens and parkland, her grateful tenants had gone home with full bellies, and she entered her own home with a full heart. She moved quietly through the kitchens, where only Mrs. Sanford checked on the banked fire and wished her a good night.

“Mrs. Blake, would you like a candle to guide your way?” the housekeeper called as Audrey moved toward the front of the house.

Audrey turned back and grinned. “Thanks, but no.”

Where once Mrs. Sanford would have been mortified by her gaffe, now she simply chuckled through her apology.

The other servants and Blythe had already gone to bed, and Audrey couldn’t help wondering if Robert and the Blackthornes had also retired. With Blythe and the married couple in attendance, it had seemed acceptable to allow Robert to remain as well.

She found herself wishing she could sneak into his room, knowing that in her small manor, it would be too noticeable. But a girl could dream . . .

And then she heard male voices in the drawing room and slowed to a stop. She didn’t want to interrupt if—

“I’m going to tell her the truth, Michael,” Robert was saying.