How to Wed an Earl (11 page)

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

The question shook her out of her daze. Lucas appeared so calm sitting beside her, casually eating bread and cheese. Who would have thought he would look even more powerful when bared from the waist up?

She watched his mouth as he chewed, fascinated by how masculine he was, how he would be in control of any situation thrust upon him. It was evident even with the way he ate — there was purpose in his every bite, no action was wasted.

“We lost, Lucas,” she finally made herself say. “Mr. Henson visited today and demanded his money. He’ll be back in a few days to take over Highfield Manor.”

“I thought you said our engagement would convince him to give your family an extension.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “I thought so, too. It didn’t work.” She let out an anguished moan. “I don’t know why I thought I could convince him. I failed, like I failed at convincing my uncle to let us stay at Maitland Hall when Father died.”

“Calm yourself. You’re getting overwrought.”

“
Overwrought?
” she burst out. “I am more than overwrought, my lord. I’m one second away from losing my breakfast!”

He reached out and his large hand took hold of hers. His strength had a comforting effect. “Tell me what happened at the meeting with Henson.”

She told him everything. He appeared calm until she got to the part about Henson’s suggestion of using Sarah as a bargaining tool.

“The bastard!” he growled. He let go of her hand and started to get up. “I’ll kill him.”

“No!” She grabbed his fingers and pulled him back down. “You are not going to kill anyone. Really, is that the male answer to everything?”

One raven brow rose in challenge. “You think he doesn’t deserve it for attempting to blackmail you into whoring out a child?”

She clung to him. His comment made an idea take root in her mind. It was going to be risky, but at this point, they had nothing to lose. If she were very careful in the execution of her plan, it might even work. It was so simple; Penelope didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before.

She grinned. “Of course he deserves it! Lucas, you’re a genius.”

He tucked an errant lock behind her ear. “I know.” He got up. “So, where does this Henson live? I’m going to teach him a lesson about taking advantage of distraught women.”

She got up, too. “You are not going anywhere near him. He’s dangerous.”

“You cannot stop me, nymph.” He took a step toward the house.

She held his arm again before he could progress further. “Listen to me, Lucas. I know for a fact Mr. Henson has killed at least two men on the dueling field. Will you stop being angry for one minute and think, instead of acting like — ”

His eyes turned as chilly as midnight. “Like Raving Ravenstone?”

She grabbed his other arm and shook him. “You will never call yourself that horrible name again, do you hear me?”

His lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with wry amusement. “You are one bossy bit of goods, did you know that?”

Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was soft, almost reverent in its tenderness, and Penelope gave herself up to the sweet shock of it as she had done the last time.

Lucas seemed to sense her willingness, for he growled his approval as he lifted his mouth to trail hot kisses down her sensitive neck. “I think you would make an excellent countess, sweetheart.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her throat. “It would be an honor to be married to you.”

She swallowed. “You seem awfully sure I’ll marry you,” she said shakily.

He touched his tongue to her beating pulse, making her jump. Then he straightened and looked straight into her eyes while his large hands cupped her face.

“Enough of these games,” he said in a husky tone. “Will you marry me, Penelope?”

“I don’t think we’ve had enough time to — ”

She let out a strangled gasp when he suddenly tugged her down to the blanket and pulled her onto his lap.

“It looks like you need more convincing,” he whispered, his hot breath wafting over her, sending a quivering sensation down her belly. Then he claimed her mouth with his, and she drifted her hands up his bare chest to link around his neck, offering herself up to him.

She dimly felt him unbuttoning her gown with a tenderness that was at odds with the wild hunger of his kisses. She’d been waiting to have him kiss her again and she was glad,
eager
, to let him do what he wanted with her, to feel the heady pleasure he gave her.

When he plunged his tongue deep in her mouth, she moaned with delight and held him tighter, loving the feel of his warm, naked skin beneath her hands. She started to move her hands over his broad shoulders, and he lifted his mouth from hers to kiss the area just below her chin.

“Yes. Touch me, my sweet nymph. Let me feel your hands on me,” he rasped against her throat.

For once, the nickname he’d given her sounded apt, for Penelope felt rather like a wicked nymph enticing this warrior to share her world in the woods.

She wanted Lucas to be in her world.
She always had.

Penelope let her hands skim down his back, his taut muscles leaping in reaction to her touch. She was so enthralled with the feel of his naked skin that she barely noticed him shoving her gown down to her waist. Then he pressed open-mouthed kisses down her neck and collarbone, and she stiffened at the new intimacy his caresses demanded.

“Lucas, are you sure … ?”

“Yes,” he muttered. “Bloody hell, yes.” His eyes were glittering with need. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first met you.” He sucked her breast through her chemise, dampening the sheer fabric, tonguing her nipple as he caressed the other one with his hand, fondling her flesh beneath the thin covering.

Penelope clutched his dark head, not knowing whether she was pulling him to her or pushing him away. All she knew was that Lucas was touching her in ways she never thought a man would want to. Especially not this handsome man who had finally walked into her life, turning it upside down, awakening a dormant part of her she hadn’t realized was there until he coaxed it to life with his heated touch and demanding kisses.

He tugged her chemise down, exposing her breasts to his dark, hungry gaze. She squirmed on his lap in embarrassment, then stopped immediately when she heard him groan.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured hotly against the slope of her breast. He positioned her to sit fully on top of the hard bulge in his trousers, urging her to move as he sucked her breast so hard she cried out with the sheer pleasure of it.

“Do you like that, nymph?” he rasped against her skin.

“Oh, yes … ” she whispered.

“Should I do it again?” he asked, his tongue laving the sensitive tip of her breast, sending a delicious shiver up her spine.

“Please, Lucas … ” She pressed herself against him.

A choked laugh escaped him. “Anything to please you, sweetheart.” Then he sucked at her breast again, making her moan.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, and she started to rub herself against his hard thighs shamelessly, straddling him, trying to ease the ache building up inside her that seemed to be concentrated on the damp area between her legs. She cradled his dark head as he released her erect nipple, and his mouth proceeded to suck at her other breast while he caressed the one his mouth just left with his hand, rolling her sensitized flesh between his fingers.

She was lost in the sea of desire that Lucas seemed determined to drown them in as his mouth tugged at her breast and his hands gripped her waist, urging her to keep rubbing against his aroused manhood.

“Yes, nymph. Like that … God, that feels so good,” he whispered against her breast.

Penelope sighed and closed her eyes to savor the feeling.
Good? It felt wonderful! So wonderful.
She held onto him, her head thrown back, giving him access so he could kiss his way up her throat and jaw then lick his way back down to devour her aching breasts once more.

She moaned deep in her throat when she felt him grip her hips more firmly, urging her to move faster. Pure instinct drove her now. She rubbed herself on him harder, faster, against the place she most wanted him as her heart thundered and she raced blindly, frantically, toward whatever it was he offered that she knew was just beyond her reach until … he stopped.

“Lucas?” she whispered, lost.

He groaned as he kissed her mouth again. Hungrily, fiercely, deeply. He tore his mouth from hers and grabbed her hands, kissing each of her fingers. Then he lifted his head.

“Penelope,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “We have to stop. Otherwise you won’t have any choice but to marry me.”

She opened her eyes and saw him before her, his eyes raking her naked breasts, exposed to him in the harsh midday sun.

Penelope squirmed, barely noticing his hiss as she slid off him, kneeled and turned her back to him as she started adjusting her chemise and gown. She had behaved like some doxy, and he surely would think her no better than one now that she’d proven herself to be a wanton.

She flinched when she felt his hands on her shoulders, then she felt him fastening the buttons of her gown at her back. The kiss he pressed on the nape of her neck did much to soothe her wounded feelings.

When he finished with her buttons, he pulled her between his thighs, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his chin rubbing the top of her head as they sat on the blanket, the gentle breeze ruffling her hair.

He kissed her temple. It was a gentle, tender caress. “You were wonderful, sweetheart,” he said in a deep, reassuring voice. “There’s no shame in what we did. It’s only natural — it’s obvious we desire one another.”

Reassured, she snuggled in his arms. “Why did you stop? You didn’t have to,” she asked in a small voice.

His arms tightened around her. “Believe me, stopping was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he said hoarsely. Then he sighed against her hair. “Our betrothal was not of our choosing, Penelope, but if we’re to marry, I want it to be our decision. I will not ruin you to force you into marrying me.”

• • •

Lucas realized he meant the words. He might have considered ruining her to force her hand merely an hour ago, but now he wanted more from her. He wanted her to marry him because she
wanted
to marry him.

He cursed himself for being a fool. But no matter how contrary it was to his own goal, he could not bring himself to force marriage on the sweet creature in his arms. Life had already forced too many things on her.

Penelope turned in his arms, facing him as she kneeled between his legs. “Thank you,” she said simply.

Then she kissed him tenderly, sweetly. He responded instinctively, driving his tongue into her soft mouth until he felt his control slipping away again, prompting him to lift his mouth from hers. He couldn’t take much more of this. It took all of his control to keep from laying her down on the blanket and taking her right there, in front of God and country.

“Penelope,” he groaned, gripping her shoulders to keep her at arm’s length. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

Her smile was as bright as the sun framing her lovely form. “I think I have some idea.”

She kissed his cheek, turned around again and snuggled against him, and all he could do was hold her against his chest. He wondered how long he could hold her before he snapped. But she felt so good in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. God, but she made him daft. What would it take to make this woman trust him?

Hugh Maitland sat in his study reading contracts of sale when he heard the door open.

“Ah, son, you’re back early,” he said to the well-dressed, tall, young man who had entered the study. “How was your trip from London? Have a seat.” He gestured to one of the two red velvet chairs in front of his desk.

David Maitland’s lean build, brown hair and hazel eyes marked him as the next Baron Maitland. Hugh was certain his son would do justice to the title, unlike Hugh’s brother, Edmund. In all of David’s twenty-eight years, Hugh had never had any reason to worry that his son would ever tarnish the Maitland name. But he had sent David to London for the Season, and the fact that he had returned home with the Season barely beginning was not a good sign.

David took a seat across from him, his features grim. “I have terrible news, Father. Ravenstone has found Penelope. All of London is talking about it. I thought it prudent to come here and tell you personally.”

Hugh carefully set the contracts of sale aside. “So he has come. Edmund warned me of this. I would say that with Walker’s current financial state, the idiot would welcome the devil himself if it would save that house of his.

“We cannot let your cousin wed that man. He is dangerous. I am quite certain he is bent on revenge.”

“I doubt there is anything we can do about it.” David sighed. “He is already in Bouth.”

“He is out to get me,” Hugh whispered. “He couldn’t take it out on Edmund, and now I’m his target.”

David stilled. “I thought we had not sent communication to Penelope all these years to protect her, not you.”

“Do not be an idiot, son,” Hugh muttered, shaking his head. “I couldn’t care less what happens to the chit. This is about the Maitland name. The Ravenstone line is tainted. His father killed himself, you know.”

David gaped at him. “Ravenstone’s father died in a hunting accident. Everyone knows that. But I have heard rumors that Ravenstone himself is responsible.”

Hugh shook his head again. “Leonard Drake died because Edmund backed out of the betrothal. Leonard killed himself, and now Ravenstone wants revenge. He will destroy us.”

David stood up. “I have to warn Penelope.”

Hugh slammed his fist on his desk. “It is you who should be warned, son. This is only the beginning. Ravenstone will make sure I end up a pauper, just like his father was when he killed himself.”

“What about Penelope?”

“Devil take Penelope!” Hugh roared. “Her father started this mess! If Edmund had not agreed to the betrothal in the first place, we would not even be having this conversation.”