The Highwayman (Rakes and Rogues of the Restoration Book 3) (23 page)

Nothing in her life had prepared her for the feelings and sensations he had unleashed––the pure raw pleasure, the sated bliss, the tender joy of lying warm in his embrace.

“Oh, Jack!”

He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “I told you,” he said with a proud wink.

Feeling shy and vulnerable, she tugged at her dress, trying to cover her exposed breast.

Jack winced as her gyrations made his still swollen erection throb with a blissful pain. “I’m sorry about the dress, Bella. I will replace it,” he said, though he wasn’t sorry in the least. It was fit for a spinster. A dried up old maid, not the strong-willed, bountiful, adventurous young woman he was holding in his arms. He shrugged out of his coat and placed it about her shoulders.

She placed her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers through his hair. “Thank you, Jack. If I had never met you, I would never have guessed. I might have gone my whole life without ever kissing anyone.”

“What a pity that would have been. You are made for kissing, Bella.” He kissed her nose, her chin, her brow. “I never meant to be gone so long, sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t send you a message. I am not used to the idea of anyone worrying about me. It warms me that you cared.”

“Of course I cared! How can you think otherwise? I would never let just any man kiss me…or…hold me like you did tonight.” A warm blush suffused her cheeks and she whispered against his neck. “I cannot imagine kissing anyone but you.”

“Ah, Bella. I may be the highwayman, but ’tis you the master thief. I swear you plucked my heart for your own the first night that we met.”

“And I swear you could charm a bishop from the church!”

“A princess from her tower is a fine day’s work for me.” He rubbed his bristled jaw against her cheek and she gave a little shriek and elbowed his ribs.

“Oh! Ow! Careful, love. I pray you use me gently. There are parts of me that are still tender. Though it seems in my fervor I marked you as my woman.” He took her by the shoulders and settled her carefully, so she rested more on his hard stomach than his unruly lap.

“How do you mean, Jack?” Her heart leapt at his words.

“Well…my whiskers grazed you here.” He kissed her cheek. “My teeth left a mark where I hungered for you here…” He kissed the base of her throat. “And I would lay you odds of ten to one that I left a handprint–

She shrieked and laughed and batted away his hand as he tried to lift her skirt to examine her legs.

When she stopped laughing, she gave him a smile that made him melt. “Sweet, Jack. I remember your lesson about soft womanly parts against hard manly ones. I fear it can’t have been much fun for you.”

“Bella Mia, Arabella, you could not be more wrong. You did let me touch and taste you. I didn’t know a man could have such fun while keeping all his clothes on.”

Her face was so hot she was sure she would go up in flames. “There must be many women you’ve kissed and held this way.”

He shrugged. “There have been women. Perhaps not as many as you might think. I am a discerning fellow after all. There are none I’ve shared the night with, or talked with and held in my lap like this. There have been none at all since I met you.”

She felt a sweet aching in her breast. He might have meant the words lightly when he claimed she’d stolen his heart, but she had no doubt that he had stolen hers.

“Are you all right, Arabella? You’ve grown quiet. I’ve kept you late and you must be getting tired.”

“Am I your woman, Jack? Twice tonight you spoke of me that way.”

He chuckled and tugged on her hair. “After you made free with my manly parts I should hope so! I would hate to think you’d take advantage of me for a few moments’ pleasure. I am not a fellow to take such things lightly.”

She grinned, feeling unaccustomedly light of heart, and wiggled in his lap. “I fear I am too forward for a virgin.”

“Nonsense. You are a curious virgin. The very best kind.” He drew her into a lazy kiss, luscious and unhurried, and they lost themselves for a time beside the fire.

“Everything is different now,” she said after a while.

“Yes, love. Everything is different. God help us both.”

‘They tell of many lameness's and aches and distempers wch are Cured by it, its a Cold water and Cleare and runs off very quick so yt it would be a pleasant refreshmt in ye sumer to washe ones self in it, but its shallow not up to ye Waist so its not Easye to Dive and washe in, but I thinke I Could not have been persuaded to have gone in unless I might have had Curtains to have drawn about some part of it to have shelter'd from ye Streete, for ye wett garments are no Covering to ye body;’

Arabella woke with a hazy memory of Jack bundling her in his cloak and discretely returning her to her room. There had been stumbling and laughter and things knocked over as he’d helped her out of her dress and into her bed. She blushed to think of it. Where was the serious-minded spinster, Arabella Hamilton, Countess of Saye? Who was this wicked creature who fondled highwaymen while half in her cups, opening her heart and even her thighs! She buried her head in her pillow and groaned, even as she remembered the feel of his hand caressing her calf and the back of her knee and then sliding—

“My lady?”

“Yes, Caroline?” She couldn’t help a guilty look.

“I am sorry I wasn’t awake to help you last night, and now I can’t seem to find your dress.”

“Please don’t worry. You were sleeping soundly and I decided not to wake you. You have been unwell and I am quite capable of putting myself to bed. As for the dress…I was clumsy. I’m afraid I have ruined it.

“I’m sure I can mend it, my—”

“Think nothing more about it, Caroline. Perhaps it is for the best. I find, after all, that I
am
tired of looking like someone’s maiden aunt.”

Yesterday the flighty landlady had cooed and purred and flounced her brightly colored skirts in front of Jack, trying to work her wiles right under Arabella’s nose. She was not jealous of an overdressed Yorktown tart of course. And there was certainly no need to compete. Jack was hers. Last night had clearly decided that. But he
was
an attractive man, and no doubt many women sought to lure him. “You are always so resourceful, Caroline. Mr. Nicks is to take me touring today. Have I something a little brighter to wear?”

~

Jack was in a quandary as he waited quietly in the courtyard. He was not Jack or Samuel Nicks, but John today, a simple country gentleman in a respectable but unadorned suit, with his hat pulled low, carrying serviceable weapons, and his hair pulled back in queue. He didn’t know what madness had set him chasing after Arabella, or made him tell her more than enough to hang him thrice. He had never really believed a woman of her sense and station would so easily accept him, though he’d been quick to recognize the gleam of daring and independence in her eyes. Would she think differently of him after all he’d revealed last night? And what now?

Not a day had passed since their first meeting that she hadn’t featured in his dreams––asleep or awake. Last night she had completely disarmed him, yet he had never once thought past the pursuit. To walk away from her again would surely kill the bond that lay between them, a thing he’d felt when he first met her and had never experienced before. Yet how could he stay? How could he do more than meet her in shadow, or in faraway places where neither of them were known?

His mother had left everything to be with his father. Blind to what he really was, charmed by his manner, it had cost her everything––her family, her happiness, her freedom, and finally her life. He knew he wasn’t his father, but Arabella’s affection for him could cost her nearly as much. When the hangman finally caught up with him there would be nothing left but tears for all she had sacrificed. He was a selfish bastard. He should never have come. She had been happy with her adventures and he should have left her in peace. If he truly cared for her he would—”

“Mr. Nevison?”

He turned around and his eyes lit up with a possessive gleam. Arabella stood in front of him dressed in a neatly tailored riding suit in a becoming shade of blue, with a handsome ribboned cravat at her throat, and a dashing hat perched upon her head. A tumble of chestnut curls escaped to frame her face and draw attention to her sparkling eyes. He reached out and brushed her cheek as he lifted one heavy curl and tucked it back over her shoulder.

“You are looking particularly fine today, Miss Hamilton,” he said with an appreciative grin, his good intentions forgotten. “I have promised you a tour, though I daresay there is nothing in the vicinity I can show you that is half as lovely as yourself.”

Her eyes sparkled at the compliment and she gave him a bright smile. A tiny part of her had feared that he wouldn’t notice, and that what had been easy with candlelight and wine might be awkward and regretted in the bright light of day––or worse, that having so easily tasted what he came for, he would have ended the chase and once again been on his way.

Jack grinned and took her hand, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles that made her skin color with a becoming blush. “There
are
many healthful wells and springs though, and mindful of your frail constitution, I propose we visit those.” He leaned in to her shoulder, as if imparting a confidence. “They are said to be most bracing, and can cool the fevers of both body and mind.”

His whispered words sent a tickling sensation along her back and arms and raised the hair on the nape of her neck. She demurely allowed him help her into her saddle, though it was a task she was more than capable of doing herself. She had long distained women who used their looks and smiles instead of their brains, but she was fast discovering that flirtation was a very exciting pastime that set one’s pulse to singing. No wonder men and women enjoyed it so.

They made their way on horseback over well-traveled roads toward the spa town of Harrogate, chatting easily along the way. Jack knew all of the latest London gossip, and recounted it with his usual flare. “It’s all we do in taverns and coffeehouses you know. Boast of our exploits, and gossip and complain about the fools in London, while trying not to get caught cheating at cards.”

“Jack! You wouldn’t!”

“I would and I do,” he said with a charming grin. “Perhaps I might teach you sometime. Why shouldn’t an enterprising fellow employ all of his skills? It takes a good deal of practice to acquire them you know.”

“I can only imagine what you would have become if you hadn’t chosen this path.”

He gave her a sideways look. “Can you? I can’t. Do you see me owning a cheese shop? Being a baker or a miller? Or taking orders like a good soldier?”

“No…and no…and no. You would have to be master of your own fate, of course.”

“Hmm….Perhaps I might be a fat country squire. Counting his sheep and planning his fields.”

“No, you would be terribly bored and that would be terribly bad. You would have to be on the move.”

“I tried being a mercenary for a spell but it really didn’t suit. I wasn’t much of one for all the killing and torture. I kept telling my prisoners to bugger off. It didn’t sit well with the senior officers. I tend to work best on my own or with like-minded friends.”

“A ship’s captain?”

“Alas, I am ill, if overlong at sea.”

They rode along in silence. It was a glorious day. The sky was a deep azure blue, a fresh breeze shivered through new spring leaves, and fat pillowed clouds streamed by overhead. “Does what I do bother you so much, Arabella? Some women find it exciting.”

“Yes, I am sure they do. The same women who, if you were to hang, would lament your sad end and bring ribbons and kisses to your cell, then boast of it later to their friends. What you do worries me.”

“I have escaped the hangman for fifteen years, love. I am not so easy to kill.”

“Shhh. Don’t tempt fate.”

“What would
you
bring to my cell, Bella?” He asked, ignoring her advice.

“I would bring a pistol and a key!” With a laugh she leaned forward, urging her horse to a gallop, leaving Jack in the dust as she thundered down the road. He caught up with her on the far side of a wide common bordered by marshlands home to at least four healthy springs and wells.

“Good Lord, Jack! What is that awful stench?”

“That, sweetheart, is the price one pays for good health. We approach The Stinking Spa. People come to bathe in it and they sell its bottled waters as a purge both here and in town—though one must hold one’s breath to drink it down. Shall we take a closer look?”

But the smell of sulfur and brimstone was so strong and offensive that they couldn’t force their horses closer, and laughing they retreated, agreeing to return later on foot. They had better luck at The Sweet Spa or Chalibiet, with its spring that tasted of iron and steel and reminded Arabella of the waters of Tunbridge Wells. Determined to experiment, she drank two quarts, though Jack would only drink ale.

The next spring was used for bathing, though it only went down about four steps and wasn’t very deep. It was on the edge of a tiny village, close to Harrogate, and other than a stone arch and a wall around it, it was out in the open. As it was still early in the season and getting on in the day, there were only a few other people about. “I shall try it,” Arabella said with a stiff nod, talking more to herself than to Jack.

“Really? I had thought these sorts of bathes were meant to be warm. This one looks exceedingly cold and the air is rather brisk, wouldn’t you say?”

“The colder the better. It promotes fortitude and is good for the blood.” She smiled and rubbed her palms together.

“Yes…well. I hope you find it very bracing, then.”

“You won’t be joining me?”

“I think not. I am healthy enough. Why should I suffer? It is you who are feeble and decrepit, after all. I will keep watch, in case your heart stops from the cold and you need to be revived.”

“I am disappointed, Jack. I would have expected a big brave fellow like you to be more intrepid. I have set my hand to nearly every new experience I’ve encountered on my journey. I’ve tried glassblowing, salmon fishing, tile making, and have even been lowered into a mine to examine its workings. I’ll not be deterred by a little cold water.”