A Touch of Passion (32 page)

“You have my word, I swear on Robert’s memory.” He pressed a document into her hands. “Please believe me. I love you, and I will always love you.” He stood and made his way over to the window on the far side of the gazebo, leaving her to read.

With shaking hands she opened the document. It was a marriage contract specifying that everything she brought to the marriage, including her business, her money, and her dowry, would remain her property, to do with as she liked. The business, which she’d sold to Christian, Grayson had bought and signed over to her. The papers had her as the chairman of the board, managing director, and largest shareholder, for all to see.

With her heart thumping in her chest she moved to pour two glasses of her cider and went to Grayson’s side. “These papers are wonderful, but some of the wording is wrong.” He looked at her in puzzlement. “You know what I want in a marriage—a partnership. I want your name next to mine. Our business will be the same as our marriage. Equal.”

It took Grayson a moment for her words to sink in. “Our marriage. Does that mean you’ll marry me?” he said in wonder.

“Yes.” She handed him a glass and raised her own in a toast. “To love and trust.”

“Without one there cannot really be the other. You have taught me that.”

They stood hand in hand, sipping the best cider in the world, watching the sun as it began to set.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Grayson whispered. She turned into his embrace. “God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I have won the heart of such a woman. I love you.”

She silenced him with a deep kiss. Her tongue darted between his lips, and she could taste the essence of him mingled with her cider. He was delicious, and she couldn’t hold back. She wanted him, here, now.

She raised her hands to fumble at his cravat and then the fastenings of his waistcoat. She rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “You have far too many clothes on.”

He gave a guttural chuckle. “As this is an equal partnership, so do you.”

There were no further words as they divested each other of their clothes.

Once they were both naked, they stood in the middle of the gazebo, both breathing rapidly, looking at each other.

Grayson ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring a blanket.”

She gave him a knowing smile and walked over to the table, her hips swaying. She pulled one of the chairs away from the table. “I suggest you take a seat.”

“I like the way you’re thinking.”

She watched with heat rising as Grayson and his straining erection moved toward the chair. Once seated, he quickly took control, pulling her onto his lap. He luxuriated in the feel of her silken skin against his chest.

“You are so beautiful,” Grayson said in awe as he traced one of her many freckles with his tongue. He loved how her nipples responded to his voice and touch, the hardened peaks pressing against his chest.

He reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting the soft curls fall through his fingers. He hadn’t thought he’d have the privilege of feeling her silky tresses again. His body shuddered with gratitude and need. He brought her hair to his nose and inhaled her into his soul.

He couldn’t wait to bury himself deep within her tightness. He bent and suckled one nipple deep into his mouth, loving the way she moaned and ground herself against his hardened length. “Hard and fast, or slow and deep?” he asked.

She gripped his manhood, her hand trapped between their bodies. “Hard and fast the first time, slow and deep the second.”

“You greedy girl.”

She worked her hand upon him. “Are you complaining?”

“Never.” Grayson’s hands spanned her small waist, lifting her and then sliding her down firmly and possessively until he was buried deep within her. They sat joined together, breathing heavily. “I love you, my fiery minx.”

“Then show me,” she responded hoarsely in his ear. Her words mixed with the pain from her nails digging into his shoulders created the most erotic sensation Grayson had ever experienced. Portia rocked slowly, leaning forward to nip his bottom lip. “Hard and fast … you promised,” she moaned in his ear.

“Patience.” He was quite content to sit here for a moment reveling in the sheer seduction of her body wrapping tightly around his.

He was hardly surprised when his lack of movement spurred Portia to take control. He loved that they were truly equal in their desire and passion.

She rose and lowered herself upon him. Soon she was riding him hard and fast, as she desired. “I love you so much, Grayson. Almost all my life I’ve loved you.”

Her words combined with her tight, wet sheath … Grayson thought he might very well explode. He thrust hard into her, watching her eyes shimmer with need. She rocked against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, squeezing him tightly with her legs.

Their lovemaking was frantic in its intensity, as if they were both striving to erase the past and start afresh. As the desire in him began to uncoil toward a frighteningly intense climax, he wanted to wait. He wanted them to reach the pinnacle together.

“Oh, goodness, Grayson, I love you,” Portia screamed his name as she convulsed around him, each spasm of heat branding him. Grayson at last could lose himself deep inside her. This was his—their—new beginning. Maybe tonight they would create new life too, the promise of their future together.

They sat clinging to each other, each gasping for breath. To think that he might never have held her again made him suddenly shudder. She sensed his mood, for she said the words he would never tire of hearing: “I love you, Grayson.”

“Thank you,” he whispered against her skin. Humbled and grateful, he silently vowed never to squander another moment with her again. “I love you more than the air I breathe.”

She sighed in contentment, hugging him tightly, knowing she’d found the man who completed her. “For once, agreeing to meet Lord Blackwood for a scandalous liaison has had a very satisfying ending.”

They were still laughing when Grayson stood up with her in his arms, walked to the pile of discarded clothes, and gently laid her down upon them.

Slow and deep took the rest of the night.

It was a beautiful, clear early autumn day. Everyone was out on the grass playing pall-mall once again. The nanny Serena had hired was still traveling to the estate. The baby coming three weeks early upset everyone’s plans. Rather than Serena having to be closeted away, the party included all the adults and the children, and they were going to have a picnic today outside on the lawn too.

Portia handed her mallet to Grayson and decided to go and sit with Lily for a moment. Lily sat across the far side of the lawn under the large oak tree with baby Robert and Henry. Beatrice was still playing pall-mall with the men, and Serena had popped into the house. From the way Lily was looking anxiously toward the house, it was obvious she was slightly nervous about being in charge of such a little baby and Henry, who was busy digging through the dirt looking for acorns.

Lily was turning into a delightful young lady and she seemed to dote on her new baby brother. She looked up with gratitude when Portia plopped down beside her.

“He looks just like Christian,” she whispered to Portia as she tickled his tummy.

“I think he’s too small to really tell just yet.”

Lily nodded slowly. “It’s hard to imagine that one day he’ll be as big as Father, and become the Earl.” She remained silent for a moment. “He is Christian’s heir. He’s very important to Father.”

“You are very important to Christian too,” Portia ventured.

Lily gave a small smile. “I know, but a son, his real son. It’s different.”

“Christian loves you so much, just because he has another child doesn’t mean he loves you any less or differently.” At Lily’s silence she added, “I’m one of six children, and I’m the only girl. Do you know what that meant?” Lily shook her head. “I was spoiled rotten. I was my father’s little princess and he doted on me. So did all my brothers, some older and some younger. I never once was made to feel any less important because I was a girl. In fact, they all encouraged me to follow my dreams. Did you know I built and now run a successful cider business?”

Lily sat up straighter. “But you are a woman. I didn’t know women ran businesses.”

“Lots of women run businesses. Look at Mrs. Norton in the village. She runs her shop. She has to understand what stock to buy, how much to sell items at in order to make a profit, and she has to pay all her suppliers.”

“I didn’t think
ladies
of our social standing could be in trade.”

“Would it surprise you to know that one of the country’s largest and most profitable banks is run by Sarah Sophia Child Villiers, Countess of Jersey. When her grandfather died, she inherited his position as senior partner of the Child and Co. Bank, a role that she’s held since her majority in 1806.”

“Really, a woman has that much power?”

Portia wasn’t sure what she should tell a three- and ten-year-old girl but she remembered what her father told her. “It’s your life and as long as you are not hurting anyone then strive for what it is that makes you happy.”

“I am happy here,” Lily said with tears in her eyes. “I’m so lucky that Christian came into my life. If he had not been there when my parents died I’m not sure what would have become of me. But now that Robert is here, what if he forgets about me? Everything is changing and I’m scared.”

Portia hugged the girl. “He’d never forget you, Serena would never forget you, as they both love you. I’ve heard the story of your parents’ death in Canada. Didn’t Christian promise you he would always take care of you and love you?”

Lily nodded and dried her tears.

“Have you ever known him to break his word? Is he not a man of honor?”

“I just don’t want to let him down. I want him to be proud of me.”

“He is proud of you,” Portia murmured against her hair as she pressed a kiss to her head.

“I want to be perfect for him. My governess is teaching me how to be a proper lady. She told me that because I’m adopted I have to be more beautiful, more polished, and follow the rules.”

“No one is perfect, darling. Everyone makes mistakes. You’ll simply open yourself to a disappointment if you think like that. Just be yourself. That’s who your father loves,” Portia scoffed. “Besides, a smart woman learns the rules, then decides what rules she will follow. Women are not encouraged to reach for their dreams. Most men think home and family is all we require. We’re told not to act too strong, that we should look like we are delicate flowers that need protection.” She pointed at the men. “Do you think these men would fall in love with a woman who had no backbone? Women who didn’t fight for what they wanted?”

Lily looked at her stepmother, Serena, as she walked back toward where they sat. “Serena has told me a little about her life. If she hadn’t escaped her husband, she’d likely be dead. Father loves her because she’s a strong woman.”

“True. Do you have dreams of your own?” she asked the young girl.

“Yes, I want to breed racehorses. Christian has let me buy a colt and two mares. He said that I might breed a Derby winner and that he’d wager on my horse.” She sighed. “I wish women could ride in the Derby.”

“That’s your goal. To be the first female Derby rider.”

Lily pulled on her arm and giggled. Even little Robert made a gurgle sound.

“I’d love that. Thank you, Portia.” With that Lily jumped to her feet and rushed to meet Serena, hugging her around her waist. Portia’s eyes welled as Serena hugged her back, and they came toward her, their hands joined and swinging between them. Hopefully times will change and one day a woman could win the Derby.

Portia left Serena and Lily to chat and moved back toward the men who were still playing. As she approached she heard them talking about what might be happening in London.

Later that afternoon Portia was in the drawing room minding Robert. The men remained outside talking. There was still no news from Hadley or Arend, and the tension at Henslowe Court was high. Not good for a breast-feeding mother.

Christian was trying whatever he could think of to keep everyone’s spirits up but the game of pall-mall had not ended well.

“That man is going to see me do him an injury if he doesn’t unbend. He’s stiffer than a fireplace poker.”

Portia smiled and kept rocking little Robert in her arms as Beatrice led Sebastian’s two sisters into the drawing room. The girls, Marisa and Helen, and their aunt had arrived at Henslowe Court three days ago from Lord Rutherford’s estate, where they had been for the past fortnight. There was likely to be an announcement soon, as Marisa was contemplating marriage to the handsome young earl.

“I’m assuming you’re referring to His Grace?” Portia couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

Marisa couldn’t hide her feelings if she tried. Everyone knew if she was sad, happy, angry, or hurt. Maitland, on the other hand, was all about hiding his emotions. He thought emotions pointless. Logic and reason governed his decisions. That was infuriating to a young girl who threw herself headlong into everything. Portia inwardly laughed. Marisa reminded her of herself when she was younger, and she could quite see why Maitland would grate on her.

Marisa was still very angry. “We should have won. His Grace took all the fun out of our game of pall-mall. Before every shot we had to discuss our strategy.
Every shot!
Why couldn’t he just hit the ball? It ruined the game.”

“You’re just peeved because the two of you lost,” her sister said quietly.

“Well, you can play with him next time.”

“I’ll probably have to, since you sent his ball into the lake.” Helen shook her head. “Your partner’s ball! That’s why you lost. Plus you left him to fish it out.”

“He deserved it, the pompous arse,” Marisa muttered under her breath, taking a seat in front of the refreshments tray.

Aunt Alison cried, “Young lady! Language, please!”

“Sorry, Auntie. I don’t know what it is about His Grace, but he rubs me wrong.” She poured her aunt and the other ladies their tea.

“He’s a very loyal and nice man,” Portia said as she passed Robert to his mother, who’d just entered. Serena’s face was flushed, and Portia spied Christian just outside the door. No doubt his proximity was the cause of Serena’s heated expression. Since she’d risen from her bed after the birth, the pair used any moment to kiss and cuddle, wrapped up in happiness and ecstatic with the safe delivery of their son.