Undressed by the Earl (18 page)

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Authors: Michelle Willingham

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction, #Regency

BOOK: Undressed by the Earl
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He suspected that was an untruth. The answer was there, but she didn’t want to force him into a marriage he didn’t want.

“If you
were
to marry me,” he began, “we would be friends, nothing more. And I know that isn’t what you want.”

She thought about it a moment. “You mean that I would have your name and your protection…but we would not truly be as man and wife.”

It was the honorable way to manage this, offering her a celibate marriage. But the idea of being married to Amelia without touching her was another torment. “Not at first,” he said.
Not unless you want to.

She met his gaze, but he could read the uncertainty there. “I thought you needed an heir.”

He did. And he wasn’t opposed to Amelia giving him a child, so long as she didn’t fall in love with him. “If you are uncomfortable with the idea, we can wait.”

She cast her gaze downward a moment, as if the topic embarrassed her. “I would think I could manage
that
duty, if nothing else. It might be a trifle awkward, but if we are friends, I suppose I could endure it.”

It took an effort to keep his mouth from dropping open. “Endure it?” She made him sound like he had no idea how to make love to a woman.

“You needn’t fear that I’d want or expect you to fall in love with me,” Amelia continued. “Your first wife can remain upon that ivory pedestal. But I would think that you could at least give me a wedding night and teach me what I should know about my marital duties. Surely that’s not too much to ask.”

The idea of teaching her how to be his lover was incredibly arousing. His body stiffened at the thought, and right now, he wanted to press her down against the bench. He wanted to touch her skin, to capture that mouth and pleasure her until she shuddered.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Amelia.” She had no concept of the intimacy of lovemaking.

“That’s true enough. I have no experience with sharing a man’s bed. But it can’t be
that
difficult. Isn’t it a matter of fitting one part into another and that’s that?”

He nearly choked at her prediction. “Who told you such a thing?”

“No one. But I did figure it out on my own, when I saw some dogs together,” she confessed. “My sisters won’t tell me anything, but I suppose it must be the same. Mother promised that on my wedding night she’d explain it.”

“It’s very different,” he said. Within the coach, the atmosphere grew charged, almost as if a rush of heated air filled the interior. Perhaps they
could
enjoy that aspect of marriage, so long as they remained only friends. If it was a means of physical release and creating an heir, was there anything wrong with that?

Amelia sat up, watching him intently. “Will you tell me what lovemaking is like? Every time I ask, my sisters start laughing at me.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She did the same, and her face was hardly more than a hand’s width away. For a while, he let her anticipation build before he gave her a resounding, “No. I won’t tell you about it.”

I’d rather show you.

She let out a sigh. “I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t I? I know it’s not proper at all, but you
have
been married before. I thought you could give me a little more detail, especially if we did marry.”

“Ask your sisters again.” He wasn’t about to go down that path.

“I don’t want to ask them,” she whispered. Her hands moved forward to rest upon his knees, and the fragile touch sent a roaring blaze through him. “I want
you
to tell me.”

He didn’t want to tell her anything. He wanted to show her, by seizing her impudent mouth and kissing away all the questions. He wanted to silence her, teaching her that some conversations were better without words. He took her hands from his knees, holding them for a moment.

“Are you afraid to marry me?” she asked, reaching out to touch his cheek. Then she leaned in, resting her face against his. “Or am I imagining it?”

She wasn’t, but he wouldn’t say so.

“Wouldn’t you rather have a man who can be a true husband to you?” he asked. “One who will do everything you tell him to?”

“You mean to say that you wouldn’t do everything I asked?” she teased. Her mouth was a breath away from his, and the temptation was so strong, he felt his body rising to her siren’s call.

Don’t
, his brain warned. Nothing good could come of it.

“I’m not obedient,” he countered. “I would never let you have mastery over me.”

Her lips parted, and the invitation in her eyes was undeniable. “Don’t kiss me, then.”

It was a direct challenge, demanding that he disobey her. He touched her face, staring at her while all the reasons for avoiding her turned into meaningless air. He gave in to the impulse and leaned in to claim her mouth. She tasted like summer raspberries, sweet with a hint of tartness. And God help him, she was kissing him back.

Amelia was hesitant, trying not to be too bold. And her shyness only aroused him more, making him want to show her all the things she didn’t know. She yielded to him, but he caught the glimpse of her curiosity. She wanted to know what a real kiss was, and this, he could teach her.

“Are you going to strike my jaw?” he murmured against her mouth.

“Only if you stop kissing me,” she answered, drawing his mouth back to hers. This time, he let himself go. All the years of denial, all the hunger for a woman’s touch, came flooding through him. He wasn’t gentle, and he demanded her response. He could feel her trembling, and when he slid his tongue inside her mouth, her hands dug into his shoulders.

But she wasn’t fighting him. She was pulling him closer.

Her tongue met his, and a moment later, she was on his lap while he kissed her hard. His body was rigid, her kiss never ending. He hardly cared that they were in a carriage on a long journey back to London.

She was giving back everything he gave to her. The physical lust raged through him with the need to command and conquer. He’d never been this close to the edge of violence, and when she gave a sudden cry, he realized that she was as aroused as he was.

He broke away, his breathing ragged.

And she knew, without him speaking a single word, that a marriage between them was more than unwise. It was dangerous.

It was late in the morning when they arrived back in London. Neither of them had spoken during the past few hours, and Amelia wasn’t certain she was capable of coherent conversation. The kiss she’d shared with the earl had knocked her senseless.

He’d been right. She’d had no idea what there was between a man and a woman, but he’d given her a glimpse of it.

Dear God in Heaven. He’d shattered her girlish beliefs, and the physical hunger he’d awakened had been nothing short of terrifying. The kiss had not been a gentleman’s kiss. No, this one was carnal, meant to show her how foolish she was. How young and naïve she’d been to think that they could consummate the marriage and only remain friends.

He’d overwhelmed her, and when she’d sat upon his lap to get closer, she’d been fully aware of his arousal. The hardness of his body had nestled against her, until she’d grown wet, wanting to feel his bare skin against hers.

The wanton desires had flowed through her, and when his tongue had entered her mouth, she’d felt an echoing ache between her legs.

But now they were home, and the previous night seemed surreal.

When he helped her out of the coach, weariness overcame her. Amelia’s knees buckled beneath her, and she was hardly aware of anything. There were voices calling out, servants rushing forward to help them, and eventually her mother and father came out to greet her.

The Earl of Castledon remained behind her, an unlikely savior. He held her grounded in the mass of confusion around her. His piercing blue eyes caught hers, and she drank in this last sight of him.

I’m in love with him
, she realized. This man, whose heart had been stolen by his first wife, would lead her into nothing but heartache. But beneath his invisible barrier, she suspected that there was a man worth marrying.

She went inside with her mother while her father went to speak privately with the earl. Her head was spinning with fear and confusion. Before long, the servants helped her upstairs and into bed. Only when they were alone did her mother take her hand. “I know you’ve been through a terrible night, my darling. But I must know, did any harm come to you?”

Amelia shook her head. “I am still untouched.”

“Thank God,” her mother said, squeezing her palm tightly. “And what of Margaret? Will she be back soon?”

“I never saw Margaret,” she said. “It was Lord Castledon who found me.”

There was a line of tension across the baroness’s face, but Beatrice masked it. “Then she doesn’t know that you were rescued?”

Amelia shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I suppose she’ll return soon enough.” Beatrice tried to smile, but Amelia didn’t miss the worry there.

“She didn’t go alone, did she?” The thought of her sister being out all night, still searching for her, was horrifying. She didn’t want to imagine all the harm that could come to Margaret.

Her mother didn’t answer. “She’ll be back,” she repeated. “I believe that.”

Amelia closed her eyes, letting herself fall into a desperate sleep. Her thoughts tangled up into troubling dreams, not only of her sister, who was still missing—but she also dreamed of the earl and of the way she’d responded to his devastating kiss. She wanted to wed him, even knowing that he had no intention of feeling anything for her. If she became his wife, he wanted her to look after his daughter. Nothing more.

She knew that. And yet, she wanted to believe that behind his grief lay a man worth fighting for. The opportunity was here. But she didn’t know what would happen if she dared to reach for it.

“I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you’ve brought Amelia home to us,” Lord Lanfordshire began.

“I’m glad I found her before any harm was done.” David joined the baron in the small library and sat across from Amelia’s father. Inwardly, he was on edge, knowing what would come next.

“There is another problem,” Lord Lanfordshire admitted. “Margaret has not returned.” The man rubbed at his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept at all. In that moment, David saw a man like himself—a father who worried about his daughter. If anything ever happened to Christine, he didn’t know how he would get over the loss. To have two daughters go missing in one night…it was enough to take years off a man’s life.

“What about Sinclair?” he asked. “Last night, Margaret went to speak to him. She wanted him to help track Amelia down.”

The baron straightened in his chair, his face tight with tension. “Do you think she went with him?”

David hesitated, not knowing whether the baron was aware of Margaret’s interest in the Highlander. But there was no sense in hiding anything.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Miss Andrews was terrified for Amelia last night. Though she said something about sending a footman, I strongly believe she went to Sinclair, asking him to go with her.”

“Where do you think they are now?” the baron demanded.

David described the route where Margaret had planned to go. Lord Lanfordshire listened intently, and when he’d finished, David offered, “She wasn’t certain if Lisford would stay on the main roads or not.”

“I don’t know why Margaret would take it upon herself to go after Amelia, but I’ll send men to begin searching immediately.” The baron stood, but before David could depart, the man added, “There is still the matter of Amelia and you. Even though I am immensely grateful for what you did, people will talk.”

David didn’t deny it. He knew what was coming next, and he prepared himself for the marital demands that would happen.

“I respect you very highly, Lord Castledon, and more so after what you’ve done this night. To have Amelia back, unharmed…it’s more than any father could hope for.” The baron squared his shoulders and faced him. “I know that I, as well as most of the London ton, would look very highly upon you as a potential husband for Amelia. Particularly after this act of heroism.”

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