Gift-Wrapped Governess (17 page)

‘But then I remembered I was responsible for Pippa. I made very sure that her portion would always be safe. You might not think I was the ideal brother to her, but I never played fast and loose with her fortune. On the contrary, I invested it so wisely that by the time it came to her Season, she had a very healthy dowry to bring to her marriage. I've more than tripled my own fortune, too. Hah! Stunned you to silence at last!'

‘Yes, I…don't know what to say…'

She gazed up at him dizzily. Her whole perception of him was turning upside down.

‘Just say you'll marry me. You will never have to worry about a thing, ever again. I will keep you safe. Your security will be in bearing my name.'

‘S-safe,' she repeated in a daze.

‘And free to discover yourself in a way you never have been before,' he said in a silky smooth voice. ‘Come on, Honeysuckle, yield to temptation. I know you want to.'

She did want to…and not just because he was holding her in his arms. She had been alone for so long and he was saying she could finally belong to someone, in a way that far exceeded anything she had dared to let herself hope for.

Now that she knew him better, she was beginning to believe she really might be able to trust in him.

‘You make it sound so simple, but—'

‘I don't want to listen to any more arguments,' he said, realising he'd got as far as he could by that method. It was time to apply the sort of persuasion he knew she would not be able to resist.

Clasping her tightly, he kissed her for all he was worth.

He met with no resistance.

In fact, the moment his mouth met hers, she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him back. And just like the night before, it felt as though they were both going up in flames.

He had never felt so immediately, painfully aroused in his life. He had to get her horizontal. Somewhere in the room there had to be a sofa, or, if not, it would have to be the hearthrug. How could she think he would ever grow bored with this? This instant, total conflagration that consumed everything in its path as it surged through them both?

He broke free from her greedy mouth just long enough to draw a quick breath and scan the room.

‘No,' she moaned and speared her fingers into his hair, dragging his face back down to hers.

But he'd located what he needed. There was a sofa, albeit one with a tea tray inexplicably nestling amongst its cushions.

He backed her ruthlessly in its direction, while she went frantic, tunnelling her fingers under his waistcoat and yank
ing his shirt from his breeches, as though she would die if she didn't get her hands on bare flesh.

He sympathised. Totally. With a groan, he swept her up into his arms, just long enough to get her legs up off the floor, then they landed on the sofa in a tangle of limbs to the sound of shattering crockery as he elbowed the tea tray aside.

Then he set about the buttons down the front of her gown. He had to free what felt like hundreds of little jet padlocks from their chains before he could push the material aside and get his hands on what he longed to feel: the soft mounds of her breasts, crowned with satisfyingly stiff nipples. Just the right size to fit into his palms. Though what he wanted, what he really wanted, was to taste them.

She whimpered when he started trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck. When he pressed his lips just so, beneath her ear, her whole body arched up into him. He teased her there a little longer, then continued to his chosen destination, pushing her chemise aside…

She gasped, and shoved hard at his shoulders.

Damn, he hadn't thought she would resist him, not at this point…

But then he heard it, too—the sound of footsteps in the hall, coming steadily closer.

‘It's the vicar!' Honeysuckle shrieked, rolling out from underneath him, scrambling to her feet and making for the far side of the room.

How on earth could she have heard the front door open and close, when all he'd been aware of was the thunder of his own heart beating?

He sat up and pushed his ink-sticky fringe out of his eyes.

He'd done some pretty outrageous things in his time, but he'd never been so swept away by passion that he'd almost ravished a virgin on a vicar's sofa.

The virgin in question was shakily fastening her buttons
up in all the wrong loops, whilst staring at the study door with an expression of complete panic.

And the wave of tenderness that swept through him explained it all: the fiery passion, the feeling of everything falling into place after he'd made that muddled proposal to her, the horror he'd experienced when he thought she might be in danger and, worse, the dread that he might never find her. That he might have to face the rest of his life alone.

Without her.

‘Honeysuckle,' he said, ‘I have fallen completely, head over heels in love with you.'

H
er fingers stalled.

She was only dimly aware of the vicar coming to a shocked standstill on the threshold. What filled her vision was Lord Chepstow, sprawled on the sofa, looking at her with a slightly stunned expression.

‘What the…what has…what is…?'

Lord Chepstow blinked, as though the Reverend's spluttered outrage had awoken him from a spell. He got to his feet.

‘I hope you will offer us your congratulations, Reverend,' he said with not the slightest trace of embarrassment, though he was tucking his shirt into his breeches. She didn't know whether to resent his sheer nerve, or admire his insouciance.

‘Miss Miller has just agreed to marry me,' he said, doing up the waistcoat her own fingers must have unbuttoned while her mind had abdicated responsibility for their actions.

Reverend Colleyhurst, who had been gazing round at the wreckage of his study, lingering over the smashed crockery on the carpet and the inkstains splattered all over his bookshelves, bleated faintly, ‘Congratulations.'

‘As you can see,' said Lord Chepstow, making for Honeysuckle's side, ‘she put up some very strenuous resistance to
my proposal to begin with. But as you may also perceive,' he said, drawing attention to the inkstains down his own clothing, then hers, which she realised in sudden horror must be a mirror image, considering the way she had plastered herself to him like a sheet of blotting paper, ‘eventually I persuaded her to see reason. I shall, of course, reimburse you for all the breakages that occurred during what must be one of the longest and hardest-contested duels of will any man has ever had to fight in the name of love.'

With a smile that verged on the borders of smug, he set about refastening the buttons of her gown in the correct loops, causing her cheeks to flush hotly. Her only consolation was that the vicar looked as flustered as she felt.

‘Might I suggest,' put in the vicar, hesitantly, ‘that the procuring of a special licence would be in order?'

‘Well, I had planned on giving her a lavish society wedding. But it might be better not to make her wait too long. Miss Miller is a woman of such strong passions, I fear she can hardly keep her hands off me, one way or another.'

‘Ooh, you—'

He cut off any protestation she might have voiced by swooping down and kissing her. Only once she was clinging to his waistcoat lapels, rather than trying to fight him off, did he break the kiss.

‘But then I cannot keep my hands off her either.'

That admission effectively dealt with any lingering shreds of resentment that kiss had not already dispatched.

And then, just as she felt as though her knees might not hold her up a moment longer, he swept her into his arms.

‘Good day, Reverend,' he said, striding past the red-faced vicar.

She buried her face in his neck, both to hide her blushes and to savour the moment. She'd never thought of him as masterful before, but he was shouldering open the door and marching down the hallway with her as though he was a
conquering warrior and she the prize he'd snatched from the battlefield.

Only the bitter cold that assailed her when he opened the front door brought her back to some degree of rationality.

‘My lord, you have left your coat and hat behind.'

He smiled fondly at her. ‘Taking care of me already, just like a proper, loving wife.' He dropped a brief kiss on her mouth. ‘But I shan't get cold with you in my arms. And do you think you could possibly start calling me Martin?'

‘M-Martin.' She sighed as he mounted Brown Bess and hauled her up on to his lap. ‘Martin, this is madness. It might come on to rain again…'

He frowned. ‘Should have thought of that. Do
you
need to go back and fetch a bonnet or something?'

How could she have been so idiotic as to shatter the romance of the moment by mentioning something as prosaic as the weather? She flung her arms round his neck and clung tightly.

‘I have all I need, right here.'

‘I feel exactly the same,' he replied with an approving smile. ‘But for once I should like to consider the practicalities, just to demonstrate to you that I can. I know you had to leave all your possessions at Budworth Hall. If you like, we can ride up there and demand they restore what is rightfully yours.'

‘The last thing I wish to do is ruin this lovely moment by starting an unpleasant scene with Lord and Lady Budworth. Besides, I do not own anything of any great value.'

‘Yes. Much better to pop over to Paris and get you an entirely new wardrobe,' he said with approval, and nudged Brown Bess into motion. ‘Then you'll be all the crack when we go back to Town. If we do go back to Town. Do you want to go to London, or do you prefer the country?'

‘I really don't care where we go, so long as we go together.'

He rewarded her confession with a kiss so heated it might have started snowing and she would not have noticed.

‘And you said you were not adventurous,' he said when he broke off to let her breathe. ‘I don't know another woman that would run off in the middle of the night without a coat or bonnet and not be insisting I buy her bride clothes
before
the wedding. Or saying she didn't care about where she lived, either. Do you know, I think you were born to be my wife.'

‘When you hold me in your arms,' she admitted shyly, ‘I feel as though…as though I've come home.' For the first time in her life, or at least since she'd been a very little girl, she finally felt as though she belonged.

‘Right, then,' he said decisively. ‘To Paris we shall go. Only, first, we shall have to make for the nearest town and procure a more fitting means of conveyance for my viscountess-to-be. Although…might be a tad awkward to get anything now. People have absurd ideas about travelling over Christmas. We might just have to—what is it?'

‘Oh, n-nothing, really. It was just you mentioning Christmas. I dare say you would think I am just being silly…'

‘Not you. If there is something bothering you, I am sure it is very far from silly. Tell me what it is and I will make it right.'

‘Well,' she said, taking a deep breath, ‘it is the children. On Christmas Day, I had planned—'

‘A party! I went looking for you in the schoolroom and the children told me about it.'

He looked down at the troubled expression on her face and smiled ruefully.

‘I want to give you the best Christmas you've ever known. My plan was to take you to bed, and keep you there all day, but…' he sighed and adopted a mournful expression ‘…if you would really prefer to attend a children's party, then…'

‘A-actually, your plan sounds rather…interesting,' she said,
biting her lower lip and shooting him a look from under her eyelashes that sent his pulse rate soaring.

‘Perhaps,' he suggested with a twinkle in his eye, ‘we could reach a compromise. I could let you out of bed, just for an hour or two, so that you can enjoy Christmas your way, providing you spend the rest of Christmas Day letting me enjoy it my way.'

‘I think,' she said, sitting up to kiss his icy-cold cheek, ‘recalling how much fun you had pretending to be a pirate, that you will enjoy my version of Christmas with the children very much.'

‘Well, I can guarantee that you will enjoy my idea of how best to celebrate Christmas.' He kissed her. ‘Very much.' He kissed her again. ‘Indeed.' He let go of the reins so that he could hold her tight whilst kissing her again. Brown Bess shook her head, snorted, then carried on plodding steadily along the road.

‘So, you are saying that we can both learn from each other, then?'

‘Am I?' He looked at her dazedly for a while, before saying in a firmer tone, ‘Absolutely. Do you know, I can hardly wait to have our own nursery full of children.'

Then, without warning, he retrieved the reins and pulled Brown Bess to a halt, looking troubled.

‘Perhaps we should forgo the staying-in-bed part of Christmas. Who knows what might happen between now and the day that should be our wedding? I don't want to run the risk of leaving you pregnant and alone and…shamed.'

‘I could never feel ashamed of bearing your child,' she protested, ‘for it would have been conceived in love. The only thing I would regret, bitterly, is if we did not seize the opportunity we have, right now, to experience the fullness of love.'

‘I thought you were supposed to be attempting to reform me,' he said. ‘Instead, I seem to have corrupted you…'

‘I told you, I have no intention of reforming you. I love you just as you are. And you are not corrupting me at all. Just encouraging me to…make the most of life.'

‘Yes, but—'

She laid her finger across his lips, silencing him.

‘I have spent years worrying and being careful. It is time for me to start living my life. With you. So stop arguing, my lord, else I shall have to be very, very strict with you.'

He sat up straighter, looking intrigued. ‘What had you in mind? Have you packed your hairbrush?'

‘What?' She looked perplexed. ‘No. I left it behind at the vicararge, but never mind that. On second thoughts, it might be impossible for us to attend the children's party, anyway. Not without having some kind of a confrontation with Lord and Lady Budworth, which would completely ruin the day.'

‘You forget you have now cast in your lot with an accomplished rake, my love. I have never had any trouble locating secretive ways into any property I have ever chosen to enter.'

She cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.

He dropped a kiss on her nose.

‘Joking aside, I don't think it will be as difficult as all that. You know all the staff corridors and the back stairs from the time you worked there. And I don't believe any of the staff would betray our presence in the house, if you asked them not to. You have some loyal allies there, you know.'

‘Yes, I found that out when I was dismissed. You wouldn't believe how kind they all were.'

‘Yes, I would. You are so loving that you inspire kindness in others. But, Honeysuckle, you do know it will have to be farewell, tomorrow, to those children, no matter how fond of them you've grown?'

‘Y-yes.' She looked sad for a moment or two, but then plucked herself up, and said, ‘And as you said, it won't be long before I am looking after my own children.' She lay her hand upon his chest. ‘Our children.'

He gave her a long look, then said, ‘Knowing you, I don't think that will be enough. You will be sitting in the parlour drinking tea and wondering how many orphans there are out there, at the mercy of fate, and then you will start pestering me to sponsor a school for indigent young ladies…'

‘Oh, what a wonderful idea!' Her face lit up. ‘If we could pay teachers a decent wage and make them happy with their terms of service, then they wouldn't be tempted to take out their frustrations on the children over whom they have authority. And we could make sure only to hire women who actually
like
children, who
want
to help them reach their full potential…'

‘And you thought I might grow bored with you,' he said. ‘I will never know what scheme for improving the lot of the poor you will be hatching next.'

‘I beg pardon,' she said, abashed. ‘It is just that it is so exciting to think that at last I might be able to do something to make a difference.'

‘You don't need to beg pardon. I am glad you are excited about our future together. I am pretty excited about it myself.' He nuzzled her neck. ‘If you know what I mean.'

Since she was sitting on his lap and could feel his erection pressing into her hip, she knew exactly what he meant.

‘Let's not talk any more,' he said. ‘No more planning. Let's just get started on this adventure and see what happens as it unfolds, shall we?'

‘If you say so.'

‘I do,' he said firmly. ‘Trust me?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘Then hold on tight. Because I need to get you to the nearest inn, as quickly as possible, so we can start celebrating the best Christmas either of us has ever had.'

He dug his heels into Brown Bess's flanks and they shot off into the night.

Honeysuckle couldn't help giving a little squeal, but when
Martin's strong arms tightened round her, her momentary flutter of nerves subsided. He wouldn't let her fall. Nor was she the kind of ninny who wouldn't do her level best to rise to any challenge this unpredictable, and utterly exciting, man might set her, now or in the future they would share.

She wrapped her arms round his waist and clung to him, relishing everything about the sensations of galloping through the night with the man she loved. The play of his muscles as he kept them both in the saddle, the breathtaking speed of their mount, even the cold wind stinging the cheek that wasn't pressed to his chest—all were equally wonderful.

She laughed out loud. Oh, but life with Martin would always be something of a wild ride.

When she had been growing up, catching glimpses of his life from time to time, she had seen his spontaneity as a selfish, dangerous way to live.

But now she knew better. When a man's heart was in the right place, how could he ever choose to do anything really wicked? He wouldn't. So all she had to do was hang on tight and enjoy the ride.

She flung back her head and laughed with sheer delight.

Oh, how good life was.

Now that she had let love into it.