The Dark Earl (36 page)
“You must take the corset.” It was a declaration. He stepped close and took the pins from her hair. The dark silken curls cascaded into his hands and he shuddered with desire. His fingers unfastened the strings at her waist, the corset fell away, and her breasts spilled into his cupped palms. “You are sinfully lovely,” he whispered.
She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms about his neck. He put his hands beneath her bum, and carried her to the bed. He sat her on the edge and slowly removed her stockings. When he saw her toes curl, he raised her foot to his lips and kissed her instep.
Harry wanted to scream with excitement. Her nightgown was forgotten as she reclined naked against the pillows and watched as Thomas undressed. When he was nude, she went weak at the sight of him. “Would you draw back the curtains and open the window? In the morning, I want the room to be bathed in sunlight.”
I want us to be bathed in sunlight.
I want us to be bathed in sunlight.
He raised the window and glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Thank you.” Then she confessed, “I wanted to see you walk across the room naked. And walk back again,” she added as her glance swept over him from his dark eyes to his glorious manhood
. If I narrow my eyes, you look like a centaur.
A shiver ran down her back at the thought of his body touching hers.
. If I narrow my eyes, you look like a centaur.
A shiver ran down her back at the thought of his body touching hers.
Thomas lay down and drew her into his arms. His kisses began at her temple; his lips touched her eyelid, then brushed across her cheekbone. He blew warm breath on the tiny spirals of dark curls that clustered about her ear and whispered, “I smell roses.”
“I smell jasmine and honeysuckle,” she murmured breathlessly.
He captured her lips in a long, slow kiss. “You taste delicious.”
“Like champagne?”
“Yes, like wine . . . and
woman.
”
woman.
”
Impulsively, she set her tongue to his throat and licked his skin. “You taste like more.” Her tongue moved up to the cleft in his chin. “And more.” With the tip of her tongue, she traced his bottom lip. “And more, and more, and more.”
He moved over her and kissed her deeply. “My audacious Irish beauty.”
She laughed up into his dark face, falling more in love with him every minute.
He knelt, his thighs straddling her hips, and gazed down at her. His palms cupped her breasts, and his thumbs toyed with her nipples until they ruched like rubies.
She reached up and threaded her fingers through the thick black pelt that covered the powerful muscles of his chest. When she touched him, she felt the muscles in his thighs tighten and his cock became rigid. “Everything about you is hard.”
Her provocative words inflamed him. He knew that with one hot, driving thrust he could be inside her, but with iron control he schooled himself to patience. He gently rolled with her so that she was above him, her knees now straddling his hips.
She leaned forward and her dark tresses trailed against his throat as she dipped her head and captured his mouth in a sensual kiss. When she felt him shudder with need, she suddenly wanted to arouse him to madness. She pressed her breasts against his chest, and gasped with pleasure. The feel of naked skin against bare flesh was so exciting she wanted to scream. She could feel his erection against her soft belly and moaned with longing. She writhed against him and bit his shoulder in a frenzy of need.
“Softly, my beauty.” He rolled with her until he was in the dominant position. His fingers caressed her mons. After long moments of play, he separated her curls, and slid a finger into her dew-moist sheath. When he felt she was ready, he murmured, “Open for me, sweetheart.” He positioned the tip of his cock at the opening of her cleft and thrust deeply inside her.
She cried out at the pain and he held absolutely still until the hurt subsided and she got used to the fullness. “It’s done, sweetheart—no more pain.” She was so hot and so tight around his throbbing cock that it took all his willpower to keep from ravishing her.
Slowly, he began to thrust and withdraw, inching deeper and deeper into her woman’s center. His whispered love words, hot and dark, poured over her.
She wrapped her legs about his back, matching her body to his rhythmic, mesmerizing thrusts. She found the act of love so intimate and intoxicating, she willingly yielded all control to him, and within seconds she was crying out her pleasure, as she dissolved in shuddering tremors.
Not until he felt her last pulsation did he allow himself to spend. Then he gathered her close and held her against his wildly beating heart. He knew he would never have enough of her. Her effervescent, passionate nature made him realize she was a rare treasure. The desire she aroused in him was so passionate, he could have made love to her all night, and he vowed that in the not too distant future, he would. This was not the night, however. He had given her pleasure and would not spoil it with uncontrolled lust.
Thomas felt her body soften with surfeit as he held her close. They whispered softly between kisses, until finally her eyelids drooped and her lashes brushed her cheeks as she drifted off into slumber. He knew sleep would be impossible. He wished he could stop time and keep tomorrow away indefinitely. Then he laughed at his own folly. He had no choice but to face life head-on.
When Harry opened her eyes, the lovely autumn sunshine was streaming through the windows. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that she was alone in bed. But she sighed with happiness when the door opened and Thomas carried in a breakfast tray. She gave him a radiant smile. “Tonight we’ll be in Shugborough. I can’t wait.”
He set the tray before her. “I want you to enjoy every mouthful.”
“Won’t you join me?” she tempted.
He shook his head solemnly. “I’ve already eaten.”
She picked up the bacon with her fingers and didn’t speak again until she had eaten everything the cook had made her for breakfast. Then she pushed away the tray and threw back the covers. “I must hurry.”
He sat down on the bed, a somber expression on his face. “Harry, I’m afraid something terrible has happened. A messenger has brought the news that my father has died. I have to return to London.”
Her hand went to her throat. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so sorry. I’ll get dressed right away.”
“No, Harry, I want you to stay here. We’ve been expecting it for so long, the arrangements have been made for a private burial. I have to return to be with Mother for the reading of the Last Will. No matter how late it is, I’ll return tonight, and we can travel to Shugborough tomorrow.”
“Surely, it’s a wife’s duty to be beside you at such a time.”
“Harry, I don’t want my father’s demise to touch you or shadow your happiness in any way. His death is a blessing, not only for him, but for my beloved mother.”
“I understand, Thomas,” she said softly.
“It would please me if you would spend the day with Fanny and the children. Take Fanny and your uncle John some wedding cake.” He tucked the covers around her and dipped his head to kiss her brow. “The rest of our life starts tomorrow.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I
t was selfless of you to miss the ceremony, Mother. It was short, and went off very well. Harriet had a happy wedding day. Did you encounter any difficulties?”
t was selfless of you to miss the ceremony, Mother. It was short, and went off very well. Harriet had a happy wedding day. Did you encounter any difficulties?”
“None at all. I called Norton to your father’s bedchamber just after midnight. He summoned the doctor, who pronounced him dead and made out the death certificate.
“At six this morning, the undertaker removed his corpse, and I dispatched a messenger to Campden Hill to bring you the news.”
Thomas checked his pocket watch. “It’s eight o’clock—time to summon Fowler.”
Barbara Anson closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Don’t be afraid, Mother. I hold the whip hand.”
Thomas went up to his own chamber and changed into a black suit. As he checked his image in the mirror, his thoughts were reflective.
His death has not brought me the overwhelming relief I expected. Perhaps because all hope of reconciliation between us died with him.
He laughed at his own folly.
Thomas, never look back and never think twice.
He realized that all he could do was look to the future, and once again he vowed to give his own children the love he had never received.
His death has not brought me the overwhelming relief I expected. Perhaps because all hope of reconciliation between us died with him.
He laughed at his own folly.
Thomas, never look back and never think twice.
He realized that all he could do was look to the future, and once again he vowed to give his own children the love he had never received.
An hour later, when attorney Martin Fowler knocked on the door of 15 St. James’s Square, it was Thomas who opened it. “Fowler,” he acknowledged curtly.
Fowler pierced him with a glare from behind his spectacles. “I understand the Earl of Lichfield has died?” He sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“You understand correctly.” When the attorney stepped over the threshold, Thomas closed the door. “Follow me up to the library.”
As he ascended the stairs, Thomas could feel the animosity radiating from the man of law, and he wondered just when Fowler had discovered there was only one Last Will and Testament in the Anson file.
It must have been recently, or he would have flown here like a homing pigeon.
It must have been recently, or he would have flown here like a homing pigeon.
When they arrived in the library, Thomas’s mother, garbed in traditional widows’ weeds, was already present.
Fowler nodded. “Lady Lichfield.”
“Thank you for answering the summons so promptly, Mr. Fowler.”
The attorney set his leather portfolio down on the desk.
“Feel free to use my desk, Fowler,” Thomas said graciously.
“The Earl of Lichfield made his last wishes exceedingly clear to me during the last few weeks of his life. He stipulated—”
“I am fully aware that my father frequently consulted you about changing his will. We are quite prepared to have you read it, Fowler.” Thomas held a chair for his mother, then took the seat behind his desk. There was no other chair in the room.
Fowler opened his case and took out a sheaf of papers. Then he hesitated for a moment and shoved them back into the case. “The Earl of Lichfield kept his Last Will and Testament in the iron safe in his bedchamber.”
“Alas, we will not be able to retrieve it. My father never gave me the combination to his safe.”
“He entrusted the combination to me,” Fowler said with grim satisfaction.
“Are you sure?” Thomas asked in disbelief.
“Quite sure. If you would accompany me to the safe, I shall be happy to retrieve the earl’s Last Will and Testament and read it to you.”
Thomas bowed his head in acquiescence. “Lead on. I’m sure you remember the well-traveled path to his bedchamber.”
Fowler picked up his case and headed from the library. Thomas offered his hand to his mother, and they followed the attorney to the late earl’s chamber. Fowler opened the bedroom door and paused when he saw the empty bed. Then he walked to the safe, set his case down on top of it, and searched until he found a folded sheet of paper.
He knelt before the safe, dialed the first two numbers, then consulted the paper, and dialed the last three numbers. He opened the safe door, reached inside, and drew out the will. When he found only one document, he peered inside, and felt around with futile determination.
He stood up and whirled about to face Anson with a piercing look that was so accusatory, it would have intimidated a less dominant man. Bristling with outrage, he opened the document, and saw that it was the earl’s original will. “This safe has been tampered with. Your father’s Last Will and his signed affidavit have been removed!”
Thomas demanded in outrage, “Are you accusing my mother of duplicity?”
“Of course not. It is you—”
“I believe you knew my father well enough to know he would never trust me with the combination to his private safe.”
“The earl stipulated that if he died before you wed, you were to be disinherited.”
“I was married yesterday to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Abercorn,” Thomas said smoothly. “You are here for the sole purpose of reading my father’s will. I suggest you get on with it.”
Fowler held up the document. “You know exactly what it says. There is no need for me to read it.”
“Nonetheless, I would ask that you do so. As the deceased’s attorney, it is your legal obligation and duty.”
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