One winters night, p.14
One Winter's Night, page 14
“Well, husband,” she said, joining him in this little fantasy they’d created. He liked the way the word sounded on her lips. “I believe it’s my turn to strip you naked.”
Nerves pushed their way through Lara’s bravado. Removing a few items of clothing from an inebriated relative was hardly the same as undressing a lover. Then, frustration made one huff and puff and make minimal effort. Now, knowing that beneath his shirt and breeches stood a Herculean specimen of a man, her fingers trembled with anticipation.
The chill in the air brought goosebumps to her skin. The ravenous look in the earl’s eyes brought her aching nipples to peak. “Let’s move to where it’s warmer.” Lara took hold of Hugo’s hand and drew him closer to the fire.
“Love, my skin burns for your touch.” His heated gaze journeyed languidly from her mouth to her toes. “Nothing would make me happier than making love to you before this roaring fire.” He paused. “But if this isn’t what—”
Lara pressed her finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s the only thing I want.” He could ask his question once they had consummated their love. And she would answer with her heart. Perhaps he needed reassurance before claiming her innocence. “I’ve fallen in love with you.” She smoothed her hand over his silk waistcoat and set to work on the gold buttons bearing his crest. “As a Bennett, I know never to let love slip through my fingers. I shall take you into my body tonight and show you what that means.”
His blue eyes widened, and his sudden breathlessness caused a pulsing in her core. The air vibrated with an urgency to join their bodies, fuse their souls. She had no time to consider the knot in his cravat or how she might tackle the buttons on his breeches.
Hugo slid his arm around her waist, squeezing and moulding her buttock in his palm as he plundered her mouth in a kiss that sent her temperature soaring. The wild way they drank from each other was almost feral. The need to touch, to taste, to sate their desire saw them frantically strip off every stitch of clothing until they were naked.
Lord, when his erection sprang free, she gulped down her shock. Everything about the Earl of Denham was large and impressive—the muscular expanse of his thighs, the broadness of his shoulders, the thick girth of his manhood.
“Trust me. We will fit perfectly well to—” He sucked in a sharp breath when she wrapped her fingers around the solid length, eager to know if it felt as hard as it looked. “Love, you could have given me some warning.”
Lara slid her hand back and forth, amazed at the sheer strength beneath her fingers. “Did you not just ask me to touch you?”
“I said … hell, that’s so good.” He closed his eyes, groaned with satisfaction and jerked his hips to encourage her to quicken her pace. One hand found her breast to stroke and caress.
“Your body is spectacular,” she breathed. What amazed her more was how empowering it felt having him at her mercy. Indeed, she might have pleasured him until he cried her name and begged for his release, just as she had done in his study. But he grasped her wrist and shook his head.
“Wait. I need to be buried inside you.”
His sinful words sent a bolt of desire straight to her sex. Still, she couldn’t risk one more stroke before releasing his throbbing erection. “Then join with me now.”
“I’ll not make love to you in that bed,” he said, casting a quick glance over her shoulder. “But I’ll make arrangements for a new mattress. Hell, I’ll have the whole place refurbished just for us.”
Lara couldn’t help but smile at the thought that their escapades might be a regular occurrence. Unabashed by her nakedness, she drew the coverlet off the bed and spread it out on the floor near the fire. “This should suffice.”
Admiration flashed in Hugo’s eyes. He took her hand and lowered her down. The feel of his hard body pressed against her, the heat and earthy essence of his skin, sent her head spinning.
One minute Hugo was shielding her, rubbing his erection against her thigh until it almost drove her insane. Whispering erotic words about how hard he was for her, about how he wanted to feel her muscles pulse around him. The next, he was between her legs, licking where his fingers had strummed a pleasurable tune.
“For all the saints.” She panted as he flicked his tongue back and forth over her sex. The rush of pleasure saw her clutch his hair in her fists and writhe like a wanton beneath him. She could feel the pressure mounting. Sheer bliss was but a stroke or two away. The spine-tingling ripple preceded the intense pulsing that saw her cry his name. “Hugo!”
“Do you want me, my love?” He came up on his knees and gripped his shaft. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt.”
“Take me now.” Now, while her mind floated in the clouds. Now, while her body bathed in the after-effects of her climax.
“Wrap your legs around me.”
Though her limbs lacked strength, she did as he asked. The first nudge of his manhood at her entrance tore a gasp from her lips. The first push inside stung a little yet sent more waves of pleasure coursing to her toes.
“Forgive me,” he panted. “It is best to be quick.” And with that, he pushed past her maidenhead with one long thrust. “Christ!” He closed his eyes as if relishing the moment.
The intrusion wrought pain and pleasure. Stretching to accommodate him proved somewhat uncomfortable. Oh, but the sensation of feeling full, of their bodies locked together in an erotic embrace, filled her with love.
Hugo remained buried to the hilt.
Nothing separated them now.
They both held their breaths as they stared deeply into each other’s eyes.
“I’ll move slowly. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
He withdrew and then pushed inside her again. A sudden surge of emotion accompanied his thrust. He pinned her with his possessive blue eyes, impaled her with his magnificent manhood.
He continued to drive into her body, so deep, so slow she cried out for release. The smooth undulations left her moaning every time he filled her. Then the rhythm grew frantic, and they made love with a feverish compulsion.
When he withdrew, she almost groaned in disappointment. He growled with satisfaction, spurted his seed onto her abdomen, and yet was still mindful that she sought something more. He rubbed the head of his shaft over her sex in the same stimulating way he had his fingers and tongue. It took seconds for another climax to explode through her.
After wiping away the evidence of their lovemaking, he rolled onto his back, gathered her into his arms and they lay entwined until their breathless pants subsided.
“The fire will die out soon.” He brushed his mouth across her temple while trailing his fingers over the curve of her hip. “I shall have this place stocked with enough wood to see us through the winter.”
“You presume you have the power to seduce me in the tower again, my lord.” She drew a teasing circle in the dusting of dark hair on his chest.
“I think you’ll find you seduced me, Miss Bennett, with your offer of sanctuary and the prospect of a lifetime’s worth of happiness. While we’re on the subject of seduction, you must be famished after our rampant activities.”
“As must you. I shall fetch the basket before the fire finally dies and we’re forced to return to the house.”
He watched her clamber over his body, came up on his elbows and cocked his head as she padded across the room to collect their provisions. Numerous times during their naked fireside picnic, the odd stolen kiss sparked into something more salacious. Numerous times they struggled to suppress their hunger for each other.
Later, Hugo helped her dress, threw on his breeches and shirt but left his waistcoat and cravat on the bed. “Your cloak is sodden,” he said, shaking out the crumpled garment and draping it around her shoulders. “My mother can lend you one for the time being while this one is cleaned.”
Lara smiled. “You make it sound as if I’ll be here for a while.”
He gathered her into his arms and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “If I have my way, you’ll spend the rest of your life at Wollaston Hall.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Marry me, Lara.” His velvet voice sent her heart fluttering. “I loved you the moment you swept in with the snowstorm. Marry me. Let us both choose love over duty.”
Lara cupped his cheek. “You know I will.” Tears welled in her eyes. She’d known he would ask. Indeed, he had hinted often enough. But to hear him say the words, to know love lived in his heart, was a treasure beyond belief. “Nothing would make me happier than being your wife.”
They kissed again—a passionate melding of mouths that left her wanting.
“I wish we could stay here until the guests have left.” She had no desire to see Miss Harper again. She had to be the one who’d crept into Lara’s room and ruined her red dress. “I wish poor Mr Bellham had remained at the Swan and you didn’t have the added worry of trying to determine who killed him.”
He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I doubt I’ll discover who drove the blade into Bertie’s chest, and so I shall show the magistrate the note and say I found it this evening. He can draw whatever conclusion serves his purpose.”
“I wish we could do more, but you cannot accuse people of a crime without evidence.”
“It’s as if a whirlwind has torn through the house these last few days, destroying everything in its path. But my mother is happy. We’re happy. And we must all think to the future.” He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Tomorrow, I shall seek your grandfather’s permission so we can announce our betrothal.”
While happiness filled her with a warm glow, she couldn’t help but fear he would always blame himself for not finding the person responsible for Mr Bellham’s death.
As they left their secret hideaway, a rush of cold air hit her cheeks awakening her to the realities facing them when they returned to the house. A lady as vindictive as Miss Harper wouldn’t simply pack her valise and leave without making a fuss. Lord knows what the night would bring.
Hugo startled her from her musings when he pinched a snowflake off her lashes and said, “Make a winter wish.”
Lara would do anything to please him, and so she closed her eyes and said, “Tonight has been wonderful. I wish every night could be the same.”
Had she known of the nightmare awaiting them, she would have made a different wish. She would have wished to banish the devil from Wollaston Hall.
Chapter Fifteen
Events at Wollaston Hall had followed the same unpredictable pattern as the winter weather. During the course of a few days, Hugo had felt every emotion known to man. Love. Sadness. Anger. Hate. So it came as no surprise that, while he basked in the afterglow of his pleasurable night with the lady set to become his wife, something unexpected occurred to sour his good mood.
Indeed, as he gripped Lara’s hand, and they made their way back to the house in the dark, a light in the old bothy brought them both to a crashing halt.
Hugo gritted his teeth. “I swear, by all that’s holy, I shall ride to Sir Ellis myself in the morning and demand he sends someone to keep guard until Bellham’s family claim his body.”
Lara hugged his arm. “If the snow continues, you may have to take care of matters on their behalf. You may have to bury Mr Bellham here.”
“Then pray for rain. Bertie deserves a place in his family’s tomb, and I intend to see that he gets one.” Hugo watched the shadows dancing on the walls of the bothy, the shadows of someone moving back and forth while carrying out their evil deeds. “While I pray a member of the jury has returned to conduct a further examination, something tells me our murderer has come to inspect her work.”
Lara sucked in a breath. “Then let us storm into the cottage and confront the devil. I doubt Miss Pardue would test your patience a second time. The other women are no real threat, and you’re strong enough to fight any gentleman should we have missed a vital clue.”
Her compliment infused a sense of pride. He could conquer the world with her at his side. “Then let’s catch ourselves a killer.”
He dropped the picnic basket in the snow near an apple tree.
Together, they crept forward.
A raised feminine voice from within made them pause at the door. “Oh, you fool! Where in heaven’s name is it!”
Fearing there were two people in the bothy, two living beings at any rate, Hugo listened for an answer, but none came.
“It must be here somewhere,” the mystery woman continued. From the pitch and cadence of her voice, she sounded much like Miss Venables. “You couldn’t have hidden it in the snow.”
“I think she’s talking to Bertie,” Hugo whispered, confident Miss Venables wasn’t talking to her accomplice. “I’m going inside. Are you ready?”
Lara nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He couldn’t help but steal a kiss. The touch of her sweet lips had the power to calm his mind, to soothe his soul.
They found Miss Venables with her hand thrust inside Bertie’s boot, unperturbed by the smell of death tainting the air. To say she was stunned to see them was an understatement. The red-haired vixen stumbled back. The blood drained from her face, and she clutched the boot to her chest as if it were her newborn babe.
“Lord D-Denham?” Miss Venables gulped for breath. Indeed, he feared she might expire on the spot. “Miss … Miss Bennett?” The woman’s gaze remained fixed on the door and not on the dishevelled figure stretched out on the table.
“I suppose you will tell me that you have an interest in medical matters.” Hugo was tired of hearing lies and excuses. “Or you have your hand in Bellham’s boot because you’re admiring the quality of the leather.”
Miss Venables’ ragged breathing made it hard for her to answer.
Lara stepped closer to the paid companion, and Hugo’s heart nearly gave out. “Take a deep breath, Miss Venables.” She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Whatever the problem, we can help you find a resolution. People often act in the heat of the moment.”
Respect and love and pride for the woman who spoke with such heartfelt compassion flooded his chest. “Tell us why you’re here stripping Bellham’s body,” he said, struggling to keep his tone even. “Tell us why you look so terrified.”
Miss Venables tugged her hand from the boot and dropped it onto the stone floor. She clutched her throat and took three deep breaths. “Forgive me,” she eventually said. “I saw a man and woman in the doorway and thought Lord Northcott and Miss Harper had followed me here.”
Curiosity flared. “And why would they do that when few would venture from their warm beds at this ungodly hour?” He realised there was a certain hypocrisy in his statement.
“Because I fear Miss Harper knows my secret.” The lady put her hand to her eyes, and her heavy breathing cracked into a sob.
It might have been a devil’s trick to lure them into yet another deceitful web. But Lara was at the lady’s side in seconds, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder and whispering soothing words.
His betrothed looked at him while speaking to Miss Venables. “If we have any hope of helping you, you must tell us your secret.”
Hell, he’d not help a woman who’d committed cold-blooded murder. “If Bellham gave you cause to drive a knife into his chest, then you must tell us why.” While being far from naive to his friend’s misgivings, he couldn’t imagine Bellham hurting this woman.
Miss Venables’ head shot to attention. “You think I did this terrible thing?” She looked as terrified as when they’d first entered the bothy. “You think I killed Mr Bellham?” The tears fell faster now.
Lara sighed. She captured Miss Venables’ hand and looked her keenly in the eyes. “Then pray, what leads you to inspect a dead man’s clothes?”
“Are you looking for the note?” Hugo thought it best to come straight to the point.
As expected, Miss Venables’ eyes grew wide. She dashed the tears from her face. “The note? The list of journeys from Bordeaux? Please tell me you have it.”
“I have it, though I should very much like to know why it matters to you.”
When Miss Venables failed to answer, Lara said, “You can trust Lord Denham. I give you my word that he will repeat nothing spoken in confidence.”
The need to tell Miss Lara Bennett that he loved her came upon him again. “We suspect Lord Northcott is involved in something nefarious,” he said, hoping to draw a confession from Miss Venables, and soon, for he could feel the cold rising from the floor and seeping into his boots. “Did Northcott tell you about the note? Clearly you’re in love with him. Did he ask you to confront Bellham at the gate and beg for its return? We know you went down to the gate the night he was murdered.”
Miss Venables blinked rapidly and shook her head.
“You were seen,” Lara said softly.
Miss Venables pursed her lips. “If I tell you, you cannot breathe a word to anyone.”
“How many more times must we tell you to trust us?” He was growing wearier by the minute.
After a lengthy pause, the lady said, “It’s a long and complicated story, but Lord Northcott’s involvement in matters of business always ends in disaster. I should know. My father spent two years in debtors’ prison trying to repay the money he lost in the lord’s infallible venture. He barely survived two months once we’d raised enough funds to see him released.”
Confusion rendered Hugo speechless.
“You must battle with an inner conflict,” Lara said, “loving the man who ruined your father.”
“I do not love Lord Northcott,” she snapped. Her mouth twisted into a sour expression. “I despise every bone in his devious body, but someone has to make him pay.”
The woman’s words made no sense. How did offering oneself as his bed partner hurt Lord Northcott? “He seemed remarkably well when you both left his bedchamber this evening.”
Miss Venables screwed up her nose as if she’d caught a whiff of something foul. “It disgusts me what I must do to ensure he is unsuspecting of my motives.” She sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell you now, but Mr Bellham worked as an agent for the Crown.”
