Unveiled (Undone by Love Book 3) (21 page)

At last his mouth found her breasts, his teeth nipping at one swollen nipple until she cried out, arching her back off the bed as she did so
. She tangled her hands in his hair as he took her in his mouth and suckled her, gently at first, then more insistently as his hand trailed down to her most secret place, his fingers searching for entrance.

She thought she’d surely die from pleasure when he found it
. First one finger, then another parted her slick folds and entered her. Moaning in sheer delight, she ground herself against his hand as a mysterious pressure welled inside her. This was wicked, sinfully wicked, yet she did not want him to stop.  

She whimpered when his hand withdrew, but soon his mouth followed the path of his fingers, down her stomach, across her thigh
. She gasped as he parted her legs with his head, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt his tongue flick across her womanhood. Her soft moans increased and she bucked her hips in reply, moving toward something inexplicable.

Just as she felt herself teetering upon some unknown precipice, he shifted his weight and moved atop her, straddling her
. And then she felt it, the tip of his swollen member, pressing insistently against her entrance. Instinctively she flinched as he pressed against her barrier.

“Jane, my sweet, this will surely hurt a bit.”  He stroked her flushed cheek with his knuckles
.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head with complete assurance
.

“I’m afraid it will,” he insisted, raising himself up on one elbow to peer down into her face
. His gaze was steady, honest, his jaw firmly set. “But only for a moment, nothing more. And then, I promise you, you will feel nothing but pleasure.”

She bit her lower lip and nodded
. She trusted him, with all her heart.

In one swift motion, he sheathed himself within her and she gasped sharply
–not from pain, but instead from the sheer rapture of feeling him, deep inside her. This was
right
. This was meant to be. The certainty of it flooded her veins, brought tears to her eyes.

He stilled, clutching her against him as he reached up to brush away a tear that rolled toward her ear
. “Forgive me. I couldn’t control–”

She covered his lips with her fingertips
. “Shhh. These are tears of joy, Hayden.” 

He nodded, and then a smile slowly spread across his features
. He began to move against her, slowly and subtly at first, establishing a rhythm as he plunged into her, again and again. Jane allowed herself to move with him, their bodies one, the blissful sensations inside her building to a crescendo once more until she thought she might scream.

Instead, she cried out his name, over and over again as something inside her exploded into blinding flashes of rapturous pleasure, her insides pulsing against the length of him in undulating waves of pleasure
. Before she’d even had the chance to recover from her own release, he threw back his head and uttered a primal groan intermingled with her name as his hot seed spilled into her. Fighting for breath, he collapsed against her. Their bodies remained entangled, slick with perspiration, as he rolled onto his side, taking her with him as he went. He pressed his lips against her neck, his breath warm and comforting.

No wonder people took such risks for such an experience, Jane thought with a smile of utter and complete satisfaction
. It had been nothing short of exquisite.

***

“My sweet Jane,” Hayden murmured sleepily against her ear, burying his face into her tousled hair as she slept against him, her even breathing making him smile in contentment
. Making love to her had been the single most sensual, enjoyable experience he’d known. He’d never felt so complete, so spent, so sated in all his years.

A smile lingered on his lips as he drifted into a deep, satisfied slumber
. But the same haunting dream that had plagued him for weeks pervaded his consciousness, causing him to toss and turn uncomfortably.

He stood in a dim, candlelit drawing room papered in flocked red silk. The muffled sound of tears surrounded him, cries of anguish piercing the quiet. He was compelled to move toward the far side of the room, toward the dark, shadowed corner. He moved reluctantly, on wooden legs, as hands reached out to clutch at him as he passed.

Shrugging off the grasping fingers, he moved closer, closer still
. Upon a bier sat a heavily carved oak box, a coffin. “No,” he shouted, but no sound came from his lips. His blood ran cold.

“
Open the lid and look,” cried a disembodied voice over his shoulder, the breath hot against his neck. “See what you’ve wrought.”  Again, he tried to cry “no,” but instead he felt a suffocating dread tighten his windpipe, making him sputter and gasp. Perspiration ran down the side of his face, made his hands slippery as he reached for the lid and pulled it back.

Blue velvet lined the box
–sapphire blue. He inhaled deeply, paralyzed by fear, refusing to look upon the face that lay pale and ashen against a white satin pillow. At last, he raised his gaze and howled in pain as Jane’s face swam before him, sharply coming into focus in his mind’s eye
.

With a start, Hayden's eyes flew open. Fully awake, his heart raced. Never before had he been allowed to see the face; instead, he’d always awakened to a vague sense of dread. With painful clarity, he now understood the dream’s meaning. It was a warning.
God’s teeth, he couldn’t love her
. Hadn’t he learned anything from Madeline’s brush with death? His palms damp, he forced himself to glance down at the supine form lying naked beside him, her face deathly pale in the moonlight.

And then she stirred
. He almost wept with relief as she stretched her arms high above her head, sighing sleepily as she did so.

Suddenly the pain of possessing her and then losing her seemed far greater than the pain of never possessing her at all
.

Her eyes fluttered open
. “Hayden?” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. His arm stole around her waist protectively, drawing her against him. He bent his head toward hers, inhaling the fragrant lavender scent of her hair.

“Rest, my sweet
. The sun’s not yet come up. There’s plenty of time for you get back to your own room before anyone else stirs.”  Reluctantly, he released her and stood, pulling on his trousers. “I must go to Madeline and see how she fares.”  He pulled his shirt over his head and hastily tucked the shirttails into the band of his trousers.

Jane stared at him silently, her eyes widening as the seconds ticked by
. Her lower lip began to tremble and she sat up abruptly, clutching the bedcovers to herself. A look of absolute terror gripped her features.

“Dear Lord,” she gasped
. “Do you realize what we’ve done? What risks we’ve taken? What if we’ve started a child?”

“Started a child?”  He hastily buttoned up his shirt, trying to conceal his trembling hands
. Damnation, he hadn’t even allowed himself to consider that possibility, not while the other one, far worse, loomed in his mind.
Jane, lying lifeless on the blue velvet, her pale, stiff hands folded across her breast, clutching a small posy of flowers
. He squeezed his eyes shut against the vision, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again. “But you said you could not have children–”

“I’m sure I’m perfectly capable of doing so,” she interrupted, her voice rising in near hysteria
. “No, I meant I
would
not have them. Don’t you see?”

“No, I’m afraid I
don’t
see. I’m a man of honor, Jane.”  He raked a hand through his hair. “If we’ve started a child, I will not abandon you.”  Somehow, he would provide for her and the child. He couldn’t begin to imagine how, not now, not with his signature on Lord Pemberton's betrothal agreement, the ink barely dry. He’d face a breach of promise suit, but he’d not abandon Jane.

She shook her head wildly
. “It doesn’t matter if you abandon me or not.”  Her eyes darted about wildly, her hands visibly trembling. Clearly she was terrified, by something far worse than the thought of being forced to wed, or even bearing an illegitimate child. It was something else, something altogether more terrifying.
But what
?

He reached for her hands, prying them from the sheets, and gripped them tightly in his own
. “You must tell me what you fear.”

Her lip trembled again, and he saw her swallow hard before taking a gasping gulp of air
. “If I have a child, I might go mad,” she cried, the words spilling out of her mouth. “Just like Grandmama, just like Aunt Susan. Mad as a hatter, don’t you see?”  Her face was ashen, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Grandmama has been locked away for years, spittle running down her chin, her eyes a hollow shell. My Aunt Susan took her own life, threw herself out the window. Did you not know?”

He shook his head, confounded
. He’d only heard that her death had been a terrible accident. “Why does that mean you should suffer the same fate? What does having children have to do with it?”

“It has everything to do with it
. You’ve seen what’s happened to Emily since Amelia’s birth. Her moods swing wildly, from melancholy and despair one day to cheerful brightness the next.”

“But Emily’s always been like that,” he countered
. She had always been mercurial. Nothing more.

“No, it worsens with childbirth.”  She raised a hand to cover her mouth, then dropped it
. “Emily said such awful things–that Amelia would be better off without her; that she’d thought of silencing Amelia’s cries–forever. She wished her own daughter had never been born.”

He shook his head
. “No. I will not believe that. Not of Emily.”

“It’s true
. I could never have a child of my own, worrying all the while that something inside me might snap, that I might bring harm to my own flesh and blood.”  Her voice broke into sobs. “I cannot even tolerate the thought.”

He pulled her against his chest
. “You cannot believe that of yourself. You would bring harm to no one. I trust that with all my heart.”

“Your heart?” she cried, pulling away from him
. “How can you say that–you who say you
have
no heart? What of
your
curse? Have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he bit out through clenched teeth
. He rose to his feet as a fierce battle waged within him. A part of him wanted to comfort her, to reassure her that she would never become the woman she feared. Whatever illness ran in her family’s bloodline surely hadn’t tainted her. He would bet his life on it. Yet he knew that to remain by her side would risk endangering her, damn his curse. He had to distance himself, no matter the cost, to keep her safe, to thwart the prophecy he’d glimpsed. He’d come too close, far too close.   

“I must go to Madeline now.”  He strode angrily to the door, pausing with one hand resting on the cut-glass doorknob
. He turned to her, his face set in a stony mask. “We’ll speak later and decide what must be done. That you would find yourself with child is unlikely at best.”

She nodded, a single tear slipping down one cheek
. Clutching the bed sheet about herself, she slid to the edge of the bed, revealing a small spot of darkened blood where she’d lain.

His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the damning spot, demanding that he acknowledge her ruin
. He forced himself to breathe, willing the air to expand and then leave his lungs. Dear God, what had he done? What terrible, unforgivable sin had he committed? His blood ran cold, and he was overcome with self-loathing. How had he the nerve to call himself an honorable man, when clearly there was no honor left in him? He ached to take her in his arms again, to wipe away her tears and tell her that all would be well. But he couldn’t, he reminded himself.
For her own sake
.

Instead, he simply opened the door and strode out, despising himself as he did so.

Chapter 18

Two days later, Hayden was amazed to find Madeline well enough to sit up in bed, hungrily devouring the broth laid before her. Since leaving Jane in his bed, he’d only left Madeline’s side to sleep. He’d held her hand and told her stories of the old knights of the realm, of dragons and wizards and other fanciful tales he pulled from his memory.

Anything to keep his mind from Jane and the horrible way in which he’d misused her
. He’d glimpsed her only twice since that fateful night, passing her in the hallway with nary a word spoken between them. Worse still, he’d had to invent an injury to his person to explain the bloodstain on his sheets before the servants had the opportunity to speculate on its origin.

He hated himself with a vengeance, yet there was no way to right the wrong, not without putting Jane in great peril
. Madeline would be moved to Richmond Park on the morn, and then he’d be rid of the temptation.

He would busy himself with securing a new governess, as he’d sent word to his steward to dismiss Miss Crosley at once
. Whatever excuse she had for losing her charge–not once, but twice now–was irrelevant. It was intolerable.

And then he must return to London and prepare for his wedding
. He no longer wished to wait till the Season’s end to make Miss Upshaw his bride; instead, as soon as he was satisfied that Jane was not with child, he would obtain a special license and insist that Miss Upshaw wed him at once. Surely Pemberton would have no objection, and they could travel to Surrey and accomplish it post-haste. Then–and only then–would Jane be safe.

For he knew with certainty that once he spoke the vows, he would never stray
. It went against everything he believed in, no matter the current fashion for adultery. Any ties remaining with Jane would be permanently severed the day Miss Upshaw became Lady Westfield. Surely the memory of Jane would fade from his heart with time.

His future looked bleak, indeed
.

“Uncle Hayden?”

Pulled from his dark thoughts, he looked up to his niece as she set aside her spoon, a scowl darkening her features.

“What is it, poppet?”

“Aren’t you listening to me? I asked why you look so angry.”

He forced all expression to flee his features
. “Do I look angry?”

She squinted, tilting her fair head to one side as she appraised him
. “Well, perhaps now you don’t.”

“I’m happy, Madeline, happy to see you well
. More than you’ll ever know. Tomorrow we shall go home. Will that please you?”

“Must we go?” she asked with a pout
.

“We cannot remain here forever.”

“I know. It’s just...just...”  She looked as if she might cry.

“Just what
? Won’t you be happy to sleep in your own bed again? To see your dolls? Your pony?”

“Yes, but I’ll miss Jane and Mrs. Tolland terribly
. Mrs. Tolland brought Amelia in here to see me this afternoon–what a sweet baby.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm.

“And last night, after you went to your own room, Jane came in and sat with me till I fell asleep. We had the loveliest time.”

He raised one brow
. “I thought you were asleep when I left you.” 

“Well,” she said sheepishly, “not quite
. But you looked so tired that I pretended I was. Jane read to me, and then she told me all about London and the wonderful sweets shops there.”  Her green eyes lit with excitement.

“She shouldn’t tire you so
. You need your rest,” he said with a scowl.

“Truly, Uncle Hayden, I’ve done nothing but rest for days and days
. You must let her come to me again tonight,” she pleaded. “She promised she would.” 

“Well, then, I suppose so
. Promises are meant to be kept. But first you must answer a question, and you must answer it honestly. What were you doing alone in the woods that day? Why had you run off, when I asked you so plainly not to?”

Her lip trembled and she bowed her head, her hands clasped in her lap
. “I will tell you, but you must promise not to get angry.”

“You have my word.”  He reached out to stroke her cheek
.

“Miss Crosley and I went into the village that morning, and I overheard Mrs. Tanner, the shopkeeper, you know, at the shop with all the lovely ribbons and bonnets?”

“Yes, I know the one. Go on.”

“She was talking about you
. I was hidden behind a bolt of cloth, you see, and she was telling Mrs. Robards that you were soon to marry. She said you were bringing a bride to Richmond Park come autumn. I asked Miss Crosley about it on the drive home, and she refused to tell me anything. I asked if I could go to Mrs. Tolland’s house to see if she had any news, but Miss Crosley wouldn’t let me, she told me I had to take a nap instead. I
had
to go, don’t you see? I do not want you marrying! At least, not to someone I’ve never met. I was hoping that Mrs. Tanner was mistaken, that perhaps it was Jane–”

“No, Madeline
. I am not marrying Miss Rosemoor. It is true that I am taking a bride, a young woman named Miss Dorothea Upshaw. I know you will like her.”

Madeline crossed her arms with a defiant glare
. “I won’t. She sounds dreadful.”

“But I haven’t told you anything about her
. Anyway, you’re changing the subject. You wanted to go to Mrs. Tolland’s, but Miss Crosley said no. So you set off without her knowledge?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Hayden
. Please don’t be too cross. I...I thought I knew the way, but I got lost and I was frightened and crying, it started raining and I was so very cold.”  Her eyes scrunched up and she started to cry.

In an instant, Hayden moved to the bed and cradled her in his arms
. “Don’t cry, little one. There’s nothing to be frightened of now. You’re as good as new, aren’t you?”

He felt her nod against his chest, sniffling as she did so
. “I’m so very glad you’re here, Uncle Hayden. Will you stay long? Must you return to that dreadful ol’ London?”

“I’m afraid I must, and London’s not so dreadful
. Remember the sweets shops Jane told you about? Well, there’s one called Gunter’s that has the most delicious ices in all of England. I’ll take you one day.”

“Will you?” she asked, brightening at once
.

“I will
. Soon enough Miss Upshaw will be your Auntie, and we’ll both take you.”

“No,” Madeline shook her head vehemently
. “I only want you to take me. Besides, I don’t need an Auntie. Haven’t I Mrs. Tolland and Jane? They’re like aunts to me. I don’t need that nasty Miss Upshaw.”

Hayden shook his head in exasperation
. This would be harder than he’d thought. “Anyway, I’m sure Jane will be returning to her own home soon. She shan’t stay here forever; she has family far away, in Essex.”  He looked down at her and saw tears well in her eyes.

“Then I should like to go to Essex to visit her one day.”

Hayden sighed. He would not fight this battle now, not today. “Perhaps,” he muttered, noncommittally, knowing full well it would never come to pass.

No, Jane must stay as far removed from their lives as possible
. One single night of perfect, unparalleled passion would have to sustain him through a lifetime bereft of any passion whatsoever. That thought alone made his gut wrench.

***

“Oh, Jane, I’m going to miss you most dreadfully!” 

“I’m going to miss you, too.”  Jane clasped Madeline’s head to her breast, holding her little body tightly against her own
. Unshed tears burned her eyes.

“Won’t you come to Richmond Park to visit
? Everyday, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that, Madeline, but perhaps I will give you some time to settle back at home first
. Then Mrs. Tolland and I will both come to see you, I promise.”  As soon as Hayden returned to London, she mentally added, and not a day before. Surely he wouldn’t tarry long in Derbyshire, not with Madeline’s health restored and his affianced back in London, preparing for their wedding.

And surely not after...
. She refused to allow herself to think the words, to remember the night spent so recklessly in his arms, in his bed. A heat inflamed her cheeks as she struggled to vanquish the memory of his skin against hers, of the wicked things she allowed him to do to her, of the exquisite feeling of him buried deep within her.

More than anything, she had to forget the way in which it had felt so
right
–for there was nothing right about it, nothing at all. He was promised to another, for one thing. She was ruined; nothing but spoilt goods as far as the
ton
was concerned, for another. Yet she knew with certainty that the loss of her virginity would remain a tightly guarded secret. Hayden would not tell a soul and since she would never marry, no one would be the wiser. Her guilt over making love to another woman’s betrothed was far overshadowed by the terror that gripped her heart at the thought that his seed might have sowed a child, growing now inside her womb. She placed a trembling hand on her abdomen.

At least she wouldn’t have long to worry over it, she thought, relieved at the providential timing
. Her monthly courses were due in less than a week’s time. Soon she would know if she were headed down the long road toward madness or if she’d managed to tempt fate and escape unscathed. Would she be punished for her sins? Would she end up like her Grandmama?

What a pair we make, she thought, shaking her head
. Me, afraid that bearing a child will mean the certain doom of madness, and him, convinced that anyone he loves will be cruelly snatched from him. If ever two people were meant to avoid an attachment, then surely they were. What a cruel twist of fate that they’d become entangled as they had.

“Jane?”

She looked up, surprised to see that Madeline was speaking to her. She’d almost forgotten her presence, so lost was she in her own thoughts. “I’m sorry.”  She patted Madeline’s hand affectionately. “You were saying?”

“I was asking you if you’d ever been to a sweets shop in London called Gunter’s
. Uncle Hayden was telling me about it last night. It sounds grand.”

Jane flinched, remembering the last time she had patronized Gunter’s, remembering the uncomfortable exchange she’d had with Hayden, right there on the walk in front of the shop
.

“I have been there, and it
is
lovely,” Jane agreed, her chest tight. “The most wonderful ices in London, I’d say.” 

“Uncle Hayden!” Madeline cried out.

Jane looked up to find him standing in the doorway, his face an unreadable blank.

“Must we leave now?”

“I’m afraid we must, little one. But first I must have a private word with Miss Rosemoor.”

Madeline looked up at him curiously
.

“Will you allow me a moment of your time?” he asked Jane, his voice cool
.

“Of course.”  Not meeting his eyes, she rose unsteadily, reaching for the bed for balance
. “I’ll be back to see you off,” she offered, giving Madeline’s hand a squeeze.

She’d known this moment would come, that they must speak before he took his leave, yet the knowledge did nothing to ease the discomfort that gripped her now as she followed him out and down the stairs to Cecil’s study
. She winced when he closed the door behind them.

Smiling weakly, she clasped her hands in front of herself and reluctantly met his gaze
. That he looked as uncomfortable as she felt gave her a measure of satisfaction.

“Will you sit?” he said at last, gesturing toward Cecil’s leather wingback chair
.

“I’d prefer to stand
. Whatever we have to say to one another should be said in haste, Lord Westfield.”

“Hayden.”

“Hayden, if it pleases you.”

“None of this pleases me, Jane, I can assure you of that.”  His usually soft eyes flashed angrily and he began to pace, treading back and forth before the bookcases like a man possessed
. “I cannot find words to excuse my behavior, and I have no hope of receiving your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I’ve committed one of the most grievous sins imaginable, dealt you a most inconceivable injury.”

“Lord West
–Hayden. Let me speak plainly. You owe me no apology. You gave me ample opportunity leave that night and I stayed willingly, of my own volition. I have no one to blame but myself. It would be unfair to hold you accountable.”

He turned on her furiously
. “You don’t understand, do you? You were an innocent, unable to make such a choice. I should have known better.”  He jabbed his chest with one finger. “I should have been stronger. Now I will have to live with this the rest of my life. Can you understand that? Can you understand how it will feel to take my bride to our marriage bed, wishing she were you? Forced to close my eyes and pretend it’s your body I drive myself into, instead of hers? And knowing that even as I do so, even as I hold your memory in my heart, I put you in danger?”