To Love a Lord (38 page)

Gabriel removed her chemise and revealed her naked frame to his gaze. Then, there was far greater danger in being the bitter, broken person she’d been all these years. A woman who could not forgive. A woman who could not forget. But this beautiful coming together with another person did not weaken her. It made her stronger. With that, a sense of peace filled her chest. It drove back the animosity that had consumed her all these years.

“You should hate me,” he whispered and placed a kiss at the corner of her lips. “I lied to you about your funds.”

Yes, but then life had taught her that sometimes in order to survive a person did what a person must. Gabriel placed a kiss at the opposite corner of her mouth. It did not make it right. It made it…life. “Do you want me to hate you?” she teased breathlessly as he moved his questing lips down her throat, to the swell of her breast.

He palmed the flesh and weighed them in his hands. A moan worked its way up her throat as he raised first her right breast to his mouth. “I have dreamed of doing this from the moment I kissed you.” His breath fanned her nipple and the flesh pebbled with the gentle stirring of air.

Jane bit down hard on her lip and held her breath in anticipation as he closed his lips about the turgid bud. An agonized groan ripped from her throat and her hands automatically came up to clasp his head to her chest. He sucked at the flesh until a wild yearning pooled between her thighs. Then he shifted his attention to her other breast. “Y-you are c-certain you’ve never d-done this before,” she cried out as he suckled her.

“Quite certain.” He slid a hand between her legs and with his long fingers, stroked the thatch of golden curls that shielded her womanhood.

“You m-must think me a wanton,” she rasped and splayed her legs wide, encouraging him to continue his quest.

“I think you perfect,” he whispered and then slipped a finger inside her.

A keening moan echoed throughout the room as she tightened her legs reflexively about him. Then he slid another finger and she bucked in a desperate bid to be closer to him. He continued to work her, teasing the hot nub at her center until thought fled.

She cried out as he suddenly stopped. “Why—”

“I need to feel my skin upon yours,” he whispered. Gabriel quickly removed his shirt. All the while, his wife’s passion-glazed eyes took in his every movement. After he tugged free his boots and tossed them to the floor, he shucked off his breeches. Gabriel returned to Jane’s arms. As he lowered himself from above her, he took her mouth under his once more. Heat spiraled in her belly and spread like a slow conflagration of desire for this man.

There had never been another but her. Tears popped behind her eyelashes and she blinked them away. But a lone drop slid down her cheek. He drew back and momentary horror stamped out the desire etched in the harshly angular planes of his face. “Have I hurt you?”

“No!” She wrapped her arms about him and drew him down to her. “I am just happy,” she whispered and tilted her head to receive his kiss.

Gabriel groaned and shifted himself above her and then with his knee, parted her legs. He settled himself between her thighs. “You will drive me mad,” he whispered and found her with his fingers. Then, he slowly slid himself into her. Jane brushed her fingertips through his hair. Agony ravaged his face as he moved within her tight, hot sheath. Her body closed around them, so perfectly suited to one another. “I love—” her words ended on a cry as he plunged deep inside her.
Bloody hell.

He stiffened above her. “Forgive me,” he said hoarsely, his tone harsh. “Did that hurt?”

Like the devil. “A bit,” she squeezed out but then he moved a hand between their bodies and stroked her center. Again and again until the pain receded and all she felt was the shared connection between them. The hot blaze reignited by his movements spread through her and threatened to set her aflame.

He increased his rhythm moving in and out and she lifted her hips in time, taking him. The pressure built, pounding hard and fast inside her, and she stroked Gabriel’s face with tremulous fingers. He clenched his eyes tightly closed. And the rightness of their joining sent her over the precipice and she shattered into a million shards with white light flashing behind her eyes. Gabriel joined her immediately on an agonized groan that went on forever as he pumped himself deeper and deeper, and then he collapsed atop her—spent and replete.

Jane sank into the satin coverlet with Gabriel’s broad, powerful frame pressing down on her. Her heart pounded hard and fast. Or was that his? He rolled away from her and she mourned the loss, but he only flipped onto his side and drew her into the fold of his arms. She burrowed against the solid wall of her husband’s chest. All these years she’d spent hating noblemen and the prospect of marriage, only to find she’d been saved—by the love of a lord.

1 month later

J
ane’s back ached. Then, a four-hour carriage ride along the rutted old Roman roads would do that to a person. She winced as the carriage hit another sizeable bump.

“Almost there, love,” Gabriel confirmed.

She frowned. “You’ve said that eight times.”

He winked. “Well, this time we really are almost there.” The carriage hit another dip in the well-traveled road and pain radiated from her buttocks, up along her spine. She wrinkled her nose. Her husband had mysteriously ordered her valise and trunks packed and loaded that morning. He’d given no indication where they were going. Or when they would arrive. Or—

“Blast and damn,” she mumbled as the carriage listed right and then it rocked to a blessed halt.

“We are here,” he announced cheerfully and reached past her to shove the carriage door open. Leaving her sitting with her mouth open and closing, he stuck his head back inside the carriage. “Well, then. Aren’t you going to step down?” He held his hand out and she accepted his fingers.

“I still do not see what has been so secretive,” she complained. She’d enjoyed a splendid month, the truly wedded wife of the Marquess of Waverly and would have been content to forever stay in London, in the comfort of the only home she’d ever known. With his hands upon her shoulders, he guided her forward and then shifted her to the left.

“Just a bit further,” he encouraged and then stopped.

Jane blinked several times at the stucco manor house with its shattered windows and crooked front door.

Gabriel tugged off his gloves and beat them together. “I…” He frowned. “I was assured by my man of business that it would suit.” Then he returned his attention to the building and scowled. “Alas, it’s a bloody mess. It can be fixed. We will fix it. You will fix it, as you see fit…”

She looked away from the old manor home and stared perplexedly at her husband. “Are we living here?” Though at this point, after hours within the confines of a carriage, she wasn’t altogether certain where here was.

“Er.” He yanked at his cravat. “I would rather wish you’d live with me. And it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to live here. Not with you.”

Jane scratched her brow. “I believe a man and his wife are permitted the luxury of sharing the same home, Gabriel.”

“It is a school,” he blurted, yanking his attention back to her.

Her heart started and she swung her gaze in the direction of the old manor home. A school. A school in which young women could attend and be free to exercise their minds and take part in real learning. A school where young ladies of uncertain circumstances might carve out a life for themselves. Love for Gabriel swelled in her heart and she touched trembling fingers to her lips.

“Or rather it is your school. To establish, run, and control as you see fit.” He held his palms up. “I—” His gaze went to her fingers and then he took in her tear-filled eyes. He frowned. “If it does not suit, than you are free to—oomph.”

Jane flung her arms about him and he staggered back. “It is perfect,” she breathed against his lips and then pressed her mouth to his.

Gabriel took her lips in a gentle kiss. “You are perfect.”

She drew back and cupped his face between her palms. “No, we are not perfect.” They were two very imperfect people who’d found each other. She drew him down closer and then pressed her brow to his. “And yet, together, we somehow are.”

He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “I love you, Jane Edgerton.”

“And I love you, Gabriel Edgerton.”

And after years of being forgotten, dismissed, and rejected, Jane had in Gabriel everything she’d never had and always wanted.

A family.

The End

The dramatic opera written by Gioachino Rossini, La Cenerentola first premiered in January 1817 in Rome’s Teatro Valle. When it first debuted it was met with a good deal of hostility. It shortly went on to become very popular. La Cenerentola then premiered in Lisbon in 1819, and eventually premiered in London in 1820, less than a year after Jane and Gabriel’s first meeting in “To Love a Lord”. As the libretto written by Jacopo Ferretti worked perfectly for Jane and Gabriel’s relationship, I took the artistic liberty of moving up the London premier date.

Christi Caldwell is a USA Today Bestselling author of historical romance novels set in the Regency era. Christi blames Judith McNaught’s “Whitney, My Love,” for luring her into the world of historical romance. While sitting in her graduate school apartment at the University of Connecticut, Christi decided to set aside her notes and try her hand at writing romance. She believes the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections and rather enjoys tormenting them before crafting a well-deserved happily ever after!

When Christi isn’t writing the stories of flawed heroes and heroines, she can be found in her Southern Connecticut home chasing around her feisty six-year-old son, and caring for twin princesses-in-training!

Visit
www.christicaldwellauthor.com
to learn more about what Christi is working on, or join her on Facebook at Christi Caldwell Author (for frequent updates, excerpts, and posts about her fun as a fulltime mom and writer) and Twitter
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(which she is still quite dreadful with).

“Winning a Lady’s Heart”

A Danby Novella

Author’s Note: This is a novella that was originally available in A Summons From The Castle (The Regency Christmas Summons Collection). It is being published as an individual novella.

For Lady Alexandra, being the source of a cold, calculated wager is bad enough…but when it is waged by Nathaniel Michael Winters, 5th Earl of Pembroke, the man she’s in love with, it results in a broken heart, the scandal of the season, and a summons from her grandfather – the Duke of Danby.

To escape Society’s gossip, she hurries to her meeting with the duke, determined to put memories of the earl far behind. Except the duke has other plans for Alexandra…plans which include the 5th Earl of Pembroke!

“A Season of Hope”