The Saint Who Stole My Heart: A Regency Rogues Novel (36 page)

Dash hadn’t found the individual who’d ordered Lady Afton’s killing, but he’d discovered Smeade—and, in the end, brought him to a justice that he deserved. It was enough for him now.

He looked down at Elena and realized he had more than enough. She’d brought the peace he’d been desperate
for most of his life when her love settled deep into his heart and soul.

Bourne would take up the reins and continue the quest for the Bishop. Dash felt confident his friend would succeed. Whether he would do so within the confines of the law was another question entirely. But if working with Nicholas had taught him anything, it was that laws were merely a suggestion, not a dictate.

“It’s heaven, isn’t it?” Elena asked with a satisfied sigh.

Yes, Dorset suited Dash perfectly. “It is, my love. But I believe it’s time to return to the house. Your father will be worried.”

She snuggled closer to him. “Is that so? Or is it perhaps that you’re worried?”

He hoisted Elena into his lap, settling her in with a sweet kiss. “I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered, looking meaningfully at her belly.

“Why do men think of pregnancy as an illness?” she retorted, reaching inside his waistcoat and pulling out a missive from the hidden pocket.

Dash looked at his wife pointedly. “How did you know that was there?”

“Shhh,” she urged him, placing a finger on his lips. “My ways are best kept secret.”

Elena winked, knowing that she’d won, at least that round, anyway, and broke open the seal. “Lord Carrington, as you know, your service to the Young Corinthians is integral to our ability to perform our duties to Country and Crown,” she read out loud, stopping to add begrudgingly, “true enough,” before picking up where she’d left off.

“That being said, the desire for a life outside of service is an understandable one, made even more so by your wife’s legitimate concerns for your safety. Therefore,” her voice faded, but her eyes continued to scan the
words, her expression changing with each line, until tears overflowed and slowly began to trickle down her cheeks.

“You did this?” she whispered, folding the letter until the two halves of the seal met again.

Dash had told her about his involvement with the Young Corinthians the night Smeade had died, needing to have nothing between them but absolute love and honesty.

He slipped into his familiar guise, pasting a vapid smile on his face and shrugging his shoulders dramatically. “Did what?”

“Stop that this instant,” she demanded, her fingers tracing over his features as if to wipe away the fool’s look completely. “This is a serious consideration, Dash.”

Dash obliged and looked at his wife as he knew he would for the rest of his life: with love, admiration, and respect. “If by ‘this,’ you are referring to the fact that I asked to only be contacted should the Corinthians have no other options, then yes, I did.”

Elena kissed him, harder this time and with an intensity that stirred Dash’s soul and heated his blood. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask you to quit—wouldn’t, actually. I know how much your work means to you. But I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if you were ever in danger again. When I thought you’d been shot on the bridge …” she paused and buried her face against his neck. “It was the end of the world for me. Everything went black, Dash. Everything.” Her tearful words were muffled.

“Never again, Elena,” Dash reassured her, wrapping his arms about her protectively. “I promise.”

They sat that way for some time, the silence soothing their nerves and reminding both that the past was just that—not forgotten, but certainly gone. And the future?

“Besides,” Dash began, kissing her hair. “I’d hardly
have time to continue my Corinthian work, what with a son on the way.”

Elena poked him in the stomach with her finger. “A daughter. But yes, you will be busy, I would imagine.”

“I still wonder at how lucky we are. Surely you conceived the very first time we made love.”

Elena picked up her head and looked at Dash seriously. “Oh, it has nothing to do with luck. I consulted the
Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society
just yesterday. Apparently, scientists believe that one in every ten children was conceived in the very same way. We just happen to be in the minority, is all.”

“Have I ever told you how fetching you are when you quote statistics?” Dash asked her, kissing just along her jawline.

Elena chuckled low in her throat. “Of course you have. Why do you think I do it so frequently?”

“Lord, I do love you,” Dash replied, glancing about to discern whether they were truly alone.

Elena closed her eyes and lay back in his arms, a satisfied and altogether beguiling smile curving her lips. “No more than I love you. I’ve proven it—the equation is in the house, if you’d like to see it.”

“Elena,” Dash growled, cupping a firm, ripe breast in his hand and kneading it.

She moaned and let her knees fall open. “You’ve no need of a proof, Dash, nor do I.”

Dash leaned forward and caught the hem of her dress. He slowly drew the fabric up, revealing her shapely legs. “God, Elena. What I did to deserve a woman such as you—well, I’ll never know.”

She toyed with his cravat. “Well, you seem rather handy with mathematics. Surely there’s an equation that would apply—”

He captured her mouth in a hard kiss, then scooped
her up and carried her down the steps of the folly. “You torture me, Elena.”

He laid her down in the soft pennyroyal and rid her of the bothersome clothing.

She wound one leg around him and reached for the buttons of his breeches.

Dash grabbed his cock and pulled it free of the fabric, then slipped his finger into her core, groaning when he found the exquisite wetness. “I want you. Now.”

“Then take me,” she urged, tipping her hips up and sliding his cock into her. “Deeper, Dash.”

He wound an arm around her and succumbed to the heated, dizzying desire that drove him on.

Her other leg hooked around his waist and she arched her back.

Dash closed his eyes and held on to Elena as though his life depended upon it. The sweet, spicy mint scent from the pennyroyal, the distant, night noises of the country—everything vanished until there was nothing but Dash and Elena. And their desire. And their love.

Elena clenched his hair with both hands, her buttocks coming off the ground as she writhed with pleasure. She leaned in and sank her teeth into his shoulder.

The feel of her teeth on him pushed Dash over the edge and he finally let go, his body shattering into a million minute shards as he came.

Elena wrapped her arms around him tightly and spread tiny kisses over his throat.

Dash rested his head against hers, their foreheads touching. “It’s true, my love. We’re never stronger than when we are in each other’s arms.”

Lois Faye Dyer for her fantastic fabulousness.

Randall for his superlative support.

The Girls for their crazy coolness.

Junessa Viloria for her epic editorial work.

Jennifer Schober for her awesome agenting.

Franzeca Drouin for her righteous researching.

B
Y
S
TEFANIE
S
LOANE

Read on for an exciting sneak peek at
T
HE
S
COUNDREL
T
AKES A
B
RIDE

Stefanie Sloane’s next Regency Rogues novel

Coming from Ballantine Books
Available wherever books are sold

“Lady Sophia, can you hear me?”

An unpleasant, sharply medicinal scent filled Sophia’s nostrils, and her eyes flew open in response. “What on earth is going on?” she demanded, bracing her palms against the cushions of a striped settee and pushing herself upright.

“I am afraid you fainted,” Dash’s wife Elena answered from where she sat on the Aubusson carpet at Sophia’s side. “Dash told me you had an aversion to weddings, but this seems rather much. Not that I would blame you. It is my own wedding and I find myself in need of a quiet room and a good book. But fainting? Stroke of genius, if you ask me,” she said wryly.

Though thoroughly confused, Sophia couldn’t help but smile at Lady Elena’s dry humor. “It does seem rather drastic, doesn’t it?” She glanced about her, taking in the room and its furnishings, recognizing it from a childhood game of hide-and-seek. “And I see I’ve been spirited away to the countess’s quarters, no less. My, I do know hot to draw attention. I must apologize, Lady Carrington. I had no intention of ruining your wedding celebration.”

“There is no need to apologize. First, you managed to extract me from the festivities, which, as I mentioned before, was not a wholly unwelcome thing. And second—and rather more important—you received some rather disconcerting news—and with little preparation, unfortunately. Though from what I understand, you gave Dash very little choice in the matter.”

Lady Elena was not angry with Sophia, that much was clear. But she appeared to be a woman who thought very little of beating about the bush. A quality Sophia valued.

“He would not bend,” Sophia countered. “Therefore, it was necessary to encourage a break, if you understand my meaning.”

Lady Elena nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose there is some merit to your methods, though as it happens, you needn’t have labored quite so hard—nore risked fainting and the possibility of acquiring a sizable lump on your skull. Dash had every intention of telling you about the events of the last weeks; but not in the middle of our wedding celebration. There are considerations to be made, after all. Considerations best taken under advisement with a touch more solitude and privacy, if
you
understand
my
meaning.”

“Then you know what Dash is keeping from me?” Sophia asked, her heart beginning to pound with equal parts anticipation and dread.

Lady Elena nodded again. “That is why I am here—and why Dash is currently keeping your Langdon at arm’s length. Not an easy task, as I am sure you are aware. He all but insisted on carrying you up to my room and staying by your side until you were fully recovered. He is a most congenial man in all matters, with the exception of you. Dash found it necessary to enlist Lady Elizabeth in the effort. She is a resourceful woman, but I fear it is only a matter of time until he is pounding
on the door, demanding access. Which is why we must be quick.”

Sophia felt a twinge of unease at her use of “your Langdon” but let it pass without contemplation. She needed to know what Dash had uncovered concerning the mystery of her mother’s death.

“Then tell me, Lady Elena,” she replied with resolution, swinging her legs from the settee and settling her slippered feet firmly on the floor. “Tell me what you know.”

Lady Elena rose from the deep green patterned carpet and sat next to Sophia on the settee. “Very well. As you know, I came to Carrington House shortly after the death of Dash’s father. As it happened, my arrival coincided with the discovery of the late earl’s journal—wherein specifics concerning the man who murdered your mother were contained. Dash enlisted both my and Mr. Bourne’s help in pursuing the killer—”

“Your help?” Sophia interrupted, sure that she’d misheard.