Part 30 (1/2)
Eric crossed the room and took her small form in his arms, crus.h.i.+ng the softness and silk of her against his taut, aroused body. He ducked his head to her shoulder and pressed his lips to the smooth white curve. ”Lidian,” he said hoa.r.s.ely, ”my sweet love...you don't have to do this.”
”Do you finally believe me?”
”Yes.” He let out a long sigh and smoothed his hand over her s.h.i.+ning hair. ”You don't have to prove anything.” He paused and added reluctantly, ”We can wait until we're married.”
”If that's a proposal, I accept,” she whispered, kissing his ear. Boldly she urged his hand to her breast, beneath the thin covering of her chemise.
Eric made a soft sound and fondled the round weight, his touch gentle and ardent. His mouth twisted in a self-mocking smile. ”To h.e.l.l with waiting,” he muttered, pulling her gown the rest of the way down her body and stripping the chemise from her. Lidian trembled with a peculiar excitement as she stood naked before him, a blush spreading from her head to her toes. Eric sealed his mouth over hers while his hands searched over the pale curves of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hips.
Impatiently he shed his own clothes, tossing them to the floor and lifting Lidian in his arms. Carrying her into the bedchamber, he lowered her to the velvet counterpane and stretched his long body over hers. He covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with kisses, pausing to bite gently at the sensitive tips and pull them deep into his mouth. s.h.i.+vering with pleasure, she traced the hard muscles of his back and pressed herself close to him, astonished by the beauty and power of his body. He murmured endearments and praise as he made love to her, fighting to restrain his pa.s.sion. ”I've wanted you for so long, Lidian...tried so hard to be patient...”
”You don't have to be patient now,” she whispered, touching his chest. It was as hard and smooth as marble, warming beneath her small palms. She felt the pounding of his heart and was amazed that she could affect him so deeply. His hand moved over her stomach to the softness between her thighs, and her breath caught as she felt the intimate stroke of his fingers there. His eyes were clear gray-green pools of light, holding her gaze as he touched her in ways she had never imagined. He pushed her thighs apart and lowered his hips to hers, beginning to enter her. There was a hard, moist probing at her very core, and then a deep, startling thrust. She arched in pain and surprise, but he murmured and kissed her, soothing her until she relaxed beneath him.
They were joined completely, their bodies and hearts pressed so close that they seemed like one being instead of two. Lidian wrapped her arms around his neck, surrendering herself completely to him.
He stared into her small face and smoothed back her hair with an unsteady hand. Pus.h.i.+ng deeper inside her, he began a rhythm that made her lips part in soundless wonder. She clung to him, twisting beneath him in rising demand, opening herself wider to him, until all at once the tension broke in a climax of vibrant power.
A long time later, she stirred in his arms and said drowsily, ”Our families will be worried. We must leave...”
Eric pressed his lips against her forehead. ”I've compromised you.”
”Hopelessly,” Lidian agreed, tracing an idle pattern on his chest. Her lips curved with a smile. ”I hope you're finally convinced of how much I love you.”
”Convince me again,” he whispered, and pulled her close.
”You look beautiful,” Elizabeth said, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. They waited together in a small room at the back of the church while the wedding guests were being seated. Lidian smoothed the skirts of her wedding gown, made of layers of delicate white silk and silver trim. The scooped neckline and puffed sleeves were finished with gleaming touches of silver, and the veil was a simple layer of transparent silk fastened to her hair with white roses.
”I suspect you'll be doing this soon with Uncle Garrett,” Lidian said.
”That remains to be seen,” Elizabeth replied primly.
Lidian laughed. ”Everyone knows the two of you adore each other, Mama. I hope you don't make him wait too long.”
Elizabeth returned her smile. ”We do seem to get on well together,” she admitted. ”And I am pleased that you asked him to walk you down the aisle in place of your father, Lidian.”
There was a knock on the door, and Elizabeth went to open it a crack. She widened it enough to admit Garrett De Gray, who looked exceedingly handsome in a dark formal coat and b.u.t.ter-colored pantaloons.
Garrett smiled at the sight of Lidian in her wedding finery. ”My nephew will be so awestruck by your beauty that he'll hardly be able to speak.”
”He had better speak,” Lidian said with a mock frown. ”At least long enough to say his vows.”
”Eric asked me to bring this to you.” Garrett handed her a small velvet box.
Lidian took the gift with surprise. Nothing could have pleased her more than the wedding present he had already given to her: his promise to have her family estate restored to all its former splendor. Overwhelmed, she had thrown herself into his arms. ”If only you knew how I've dreamed of seeing Acland Hall as it once was,” she had said, scattering kisses over his face. ”It's the most wonderful thing I could ever ask for...well, the secondmost.”
”What's the first?” he had asked softly.
”You,” she had replied with a smile, staring up at him with glistening eyes.
As Lidian opened the velvet box, Garrett glanced at Elizabeth with obvious admiration. His gaze traveled over her trim form, clad in a peach silk gown. ”I can scarcely tell the two of you apart,” he murmured.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. ”Your eyesight must be failing.”
Lidian looked inside the box and lifted out a solid gold whistle, covered in diamonds and strung on a long gold chain. She smiled, understanding its meaning, and kissed it impulsively.
”What an unusual little ornament,” Elizabeth said, staring quizzically at the whistle. ”But you certainly can't wear it with your wedding gown, dear.”
”I'll carry it along with my flowers for luck.” Lidian picked up her flowers and slipped her arm through Garrett's. ”I'm ready,” she said, and her mother embraced her before leaving to join the congregation.
Waiting with Garrett at the back of the church, Lidian spoke to him quietly. ”I hope you have honorable intentions toward my mother, Uncle Garrett.”
”I'm afraid I do,” he confided. ”The De Gray men seem to have quite a fascination for Acland women.”
”Thank heaven for that,” she said with a smile, and walked with him to the altar, where Eric stood waiting.
The Kiss.
Kathleen E. Woodiwiss.
The milliner's face glowed with cheerful enthusiasm as she handed a large, ribbon-bedecked hatbox to the tall, dark-haired man. ”I hope Miss Heather will be pleased with her new bonnet, Mr. Jeffrey. I'm convinced it's one of my finest creations.”
”You've certainly outdone yourself this time, Mrs. Brewster,” Jeff Birmingham agreed. ”Tis nigh impossible for me to imagine my sister-in-law looking less than radiant in any gift of clothing I buy her, but you always create something exceptional for me to give her for her birthday. I'm indebted to you.”
”As I should be to you, Mr. Jeffrey, for what you and your lovely family have done for me. Miss Heather looks so exquisite in my bonnets, every time she's seen wearing one of them in public, my shop overflows with women wanting something just as fetching. Why, since you've been buying gifts for Miss Heather here, my hats have been selling faster than Mrs. Thompson's peach pies.”
Jeff laughed with an amiable ease that was contagious. ”I'm delighted to have been of some benefit, Mrs. Brewster, though there's no question in my mind that your talent is the real reason for your success. I wouldn't be here today if I hadn't been tempted by the display of beautiful hats in your shop window so long ago.”
Thelma Brewster vividly recalled the day two years past when he had come into her shop, looking for all the world like the handsomest man who had ever been born. He had been on much the same quest then and, after carefully perusing her available stock, had described exactly the kind of bonnet he had been looking for, an intricately embellished piece he had seen in a Parisian fas.h.i.+on plate. Though she had advised him of the cost involved, certainly more than she had once considered realistic for the area, he had nevertheless ordered the hat. She had dared more extravagant designs after that, and as a result, her struggling business began to thrive. In spite of his refusal to take any credit for her success, she gave it anyway, knowing she would never have risked venturing beyond her humdrum efforts without having first been challenged by the man.
Since then, she had learned much about Jeff Birmingham, his fine tastes, and his fondness for his family. She was perceptive enough to realize that anyone who doted on his sister-in-law as much as he did would likely coddle his wife as well. That is, if the handsome rake could ever settle his sights on a young lady he wanted to marry. No doubt her business would receive an even greater boost if the future Mrs. Jeffrey Birmingham happened to be as winsome as the present mistress of Harthaven, which seemed a far-fetched feat indeed.
Mrs. Brewster bustled along behind as Jeff made his way toward the door. ”You know, Mr. Jeffrey, sometimes I think Miss Heather makes it terribly difficult for you, her being so beautiful and all.”
Pausing short of the portal, Jeff turned and raised a dubious brow, somewhat taken aback by her statement. ”Your pardon, Mrs. Brewster. I don't think I quite follow you.”
The woman lifted her plump shoulders in an innocent shrug. ”You're the handsomest bachelor left in these parts, Mr. Jeffrey.” She politely refrained from adding, ”And also the richest.” ”So you must be aware of the tizzy you've created, keeping the whole countryside on tenterhooks. People are simply abuzz with conjecture, trying to guess which one of our fair young ladies you'll eventually be choosing for a bride. Personally, I think you'll have a tall order, finding one as rare and as beautiful as Miss Heather. She and Mr. Brandon are a sight to behold when they come into town, and now, with Miss Heather carrying their second child, you'll have absolutely no chance to catch up with your brother, even if you could find a wife to compare.”
Jeff smiled in relief, thankful the woman hadn't started to imagine that he was coveting his brother's wife. A few gossips had been rude enough to insinuate such a thing, and he never failed to be appalled by the suggestion that his love for Heather went beyond the boundaries of a deep brotherly affection. ”I'm in no hurry, Mrs. Brewster, and believe me, I'm not trying to surpa.s.s my brother. In fact,” he lowered his tone as if confiding a well-kept secret, prompting the woman to lean forward in antic.i.p.ation, ”I've been far too busy of late to even think of settling down with a wife, much less lend any consideration to starting a family.”
Mrs. Brewster was horrified at the thought of the man remaining unattached. ”Oh, Mr. Jeffrey, you just can't let Oakley Plantation go without a mistress now that you've finished refurbis.h.i.+ng it,” she protested. ”Your warehouses and lumber mills will grow mighty tiresome in time if you don't have something better to come home to than a big, ol' empty house.”
”I'll consider your advice, Mrs. Brewster,” Jeff responded, smiling jauntily as he settled a tall beaver hat over his black, neatly cropped hair. Holding the large hatbox aside, he pulled open the door of the millinery shop and winked at the woman as he paused on the threshold. ”But I'm afraid I've come to accept my lot as a confirmed bachelor.”
”Oh, tis.h.!.+” Mrs. Brewster waved away his remark. ”I'll believe that, you handsome young devil, when I see you laid in your grave with no widow to mourn your pa.s.sing. Now, I'll bid a good day to you, sir, before I set my sights on you myself, lonely widow that I am.”
Tipping his hat in a debonair manner, Jeff gave her a rakish grin as he stepped back to the boardwalk. ”And what a tempting wife you'd mak-Oooff!”