Part 29 (1/2)
”But you believe that I will let you give up this child you so obviously love. That I will let you walk out of this house without your son.”
Fat droplets rolled down her cheeks. ”Don't... please. There is nothing in this world that I want less than to leave him, but he is your son, too. And I owe you. For everything that's happened, I owe you your son.”
His chest hurt. He couldn't seem to drag in quite enough air. ”I beg you, Kathryn, with each of your words I am burning in the h.e.l.l I have made.”
She seemed not to have heard his words. ”Are we still... is Luke of legitimate birth?”
His throat hurt. ”There has been no annulment. I'll have no wife but you.”
She stared at him a moment more, as if she memorized his features, then she glanced away. ”I have to go,” she said. ”I have to leave.”
Lucien stepped into her path, carefully cradling the child against his shoulder. ”You can't leave, Kathryn. I won't let you.” Something blurred his vision. His heart seemed a broken, useless thing as he struggled to find the right words.
”The day of the accident... everything went wrong. The constables came, then there was the terror of losing Michael. Everything was so confused, but that was the day I knew. For the very first time I knew. I saw you working over that child and I knew without doubt that I loved you. I saw how much of yourself you risked to save him, and in that moment I understood all that you are, all that you have taught yourself to be-and I loved you even more. I left because I didn't know how to tell you. How to say that I was wrong.” He looked down, saw that his hands were shaking. ”I nearly lost my mind without you, Kathryn. You thought that I didn't need you, but you were wrong. I love you, Kathryn, and I need you so d.a.m.ned much.”
Her eyes looked huge and her face was bathed in tears. ”Lucien...” She stepped toward him and he reached out to her, pulled her into his arms, holding her and his child hard against him and fighting the tears that burned to escape.
”I've missed you every day, every hour,” he whispered against her hair. ”I love you, Kathryn. I love you more than life itself and I don't want you to leave.”
Kathryn wept then, deep, wracking sobs that tore into his heart and threatened to undo him completely. He stroked her hair and whispered how much he loved her over and over again. For long minutes they just stood there, two people who had suffered too long and too much, holding the beautiful child who had brought them back together.
”I'll never let you go again,” he said.
”I don't want to go,” she whispered. ”I never did. I love you, Lucien. I love you so much.” She cupped his cheek in her hand and looked up at him with a soft, sad smile. ”This is where I always wake up. Night after night I dreamed of you saying those words and then I wake up and discover it is only an illusion.”
He bent his head and very softly kissed her. ”I promise you I am very real. From now on, I shall make certain that all your dreams come true.” His eyes ran over her face, drinking in the elegant lines, the curve of her soft full lips. ”As soon as you are ready, my love, I intend to show you how very real I am.”
Kathryn's cheeks flushed a bit, but just then the baby stirred and awakened, interrupting the sensual moment. Kathryn stepped back to accept the squirming bundle and Lucien handed the child into its mother's care.
”Are you certain?” she asked, gazing up at him with only a flicker of doubt. ”If you meant those things you said, this is the last chance you'll ever have to get rid of me.”
His heart felt suddenly weightless, seemed to take flight inside his chest. ”Then I suppose we shall be stuck with each other forever.”
Kathryn broke into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and he thought that no memory he held of her had ever done her justice. And no person or thing would ever come between them again.
There would be problems, he knew. Once the constable's office discovered Kathryn was in residence once more at the castle, they would arrive with questions about her untimely departure. The attempt on Dunstan's life had never been resolved and, though no other attempts had been made, the case remained open and Kathryn was still a suspect.
But none of that mattered. Not anymore. Kathryn was home and safe, and he meant to see that she stayed that way. No matter what it took, Lucien vowed he would protect her.
He never wanted to lose her again.
The storm heightened. Bright slas.h.i.+ng shards of lightning ripped across the landscape and thunder shook the windows in the towering stone walls of the castle. A fierce March wind howled into the quaking branches of the trees.
In the drawing room of the master's suite, gowned in deep green silk, Kathryn sat across from Lucien at a small round table draped in white linen, her hair unbound as he had requested, sipping the last remaining drops of wine from a crystal goblet that shook faintly in her hand.
She had yet to see little Michael, who was visiting the Sinclair children at Carlyle Hall, but the baby had been put to sleep hours ago, and the intimate supper she had shared with Lucien in the marquess's suite was now ended. Over an elegant meal of roast partridge and creamed whiting that Cook had prepared in honor of her return, Kathryn had told her husband of the year she had spent in St. Ives, while he had recounted the months of his futile search for her.
Though Lucien had glossed over his own personal pain, the depth of his suffering was obvious from the lengths he had gone to in order to find her. Kathryn had cried to think she had caused him so much anguish. It had simply never occurred to her that he might care enough to be so badly hurt.
As supper progressed, topics turned to her uncle and the crime that had been committed. Lucien gently explained that the authorities would most likely approach her again with questions, but no matter what happened, he promised to keep her safe. This time, Kathryn believed him.
They spoke of Aunt Winnie, who had provided the single note of happiness Lucien had known during the terrible year of their separation.
”My aunt is happily married to Nat Whitley and living at his town house in London. I think she understood better than anyone why you had to leave, but she never gave up hope that you would return.”
Kathryn caught a tiny tear with the end of her finger. ”I hurt so many people. I never meant to, Lucien. I thought by leaving I was doing the best thing for everyone.”
He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips. ”All of those sorrows are past. We have two glorious children and a bright future ahead of us. That is all that matters.”
Kathryn smiled at him through a mist of tears. Lucien was right. The present was all that mattered, and a future that would begin tonight, she fervently hoped-in her husband's ma.s.sive bed.
His white linen napkin looked stark against his dark hand as he tossed it on the table beside his plate, moved behind her chair, and helped her to her feet.
”I imagine you are tired,” he said, but his eyes said something different, as they had all through the meal or at least so Kathryn had believed. He was dressed impeccably, in a silver-trimmed black velvet coat, matching waistcoat, and breeches. Silver threads edged the fine lace at his cuff and draped over the backs of his hands.
Kathryn studied him from beneath her lashes. ”Perhaps I should be tired, my lord, after such an eventful day, but in truth... I am not tired in the least.”
Something moved over his features, tightening the finely carved lines, the beautifully sculpted planes and valleys. ”I realize a great deal has happened in the year we've been apart. You've birthed a child. I know very little about that sort of thing, but-”
”Do you want me, Lucien?” Her gaze met his, seeking the truth. Perhaps she had been wrong. She was a mother now, with changes to her body. Perhaps he felt differently about her.
Lightning cracked outside the window, outlining the subtle curve of his lips. ”Do I want you? I've wanted you every day since you left the castle. Today has been the happiest day of my life-and a total living h.e.l.l. From the instant you walked through that door, I've wanted to kiss you senseless. It's all I can do not to tear away your clothes, drag you down on the floor, and make wild, insatiable love to you. I want to be inside you so badly I ache with it.”
Kathryn's stomach contracted at the hot sensations flooding in. Reaching out a shaky hand, she rested it against his cheek. ”Would you kiss me, Lucien?”
His eyes, black as pitch, seemed to burn with a silver light. He tipped her head back with his fingers, the delicate lace on his cuff brus.h.i.+ng softly against her cheek. Just a feather-light brush of lips, the most innocent of touches, but the moment his mouth came down on hers, desire flared between them like a jagged bolt of lightning and both of them were lost. Lucien kissed her chin, her eyes, her nose, then took her lips in a hot, devouring kiss that had Kathryn clinging to his shoulders. He kissed his way down her throat, trailed hot, damp kisses across the bare skin above her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
Need overwhelmed her. She wanted to touch him, hold him, wanted to see him naked as he had so often been in her dreams. Sliding her trembling hands beneath his black velvet coat, she urged it off his shoulders, worked the silver b.u.t.tons on his waistcoat, and helped him slide it off, as well. She drew off his snowy stock and tossed it away, then trembled at the powerful muscles expanding beneath his s.h.i.+rt.
All the while he kissed her, deeply, thoroughly, almost savagely, while his long dark fingers fumbled with the b.u.t.tons at the back of her gown. With a m.u.f.fled curse, he tore the last two recalcitrant offenders away. Sliding the gown and her chemise off her shoulders, he bared her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then paused and lifted his head to look at her, his eyes glinting in the ragged patch of moonlight spilling in through the mullioned windows.
Kathryn couldn't breathe.
”You are even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said softly, reverently, reaching out to gently cup a breast.
Kathryn moaned as he bent his dark head to lave first one and then the other. Heat boiled through her and Kathryn arched toward him, her head falling back as he took the plumpness into his mouth. Faint little panting sounds slipped from her throat and her fingers curled into the front of his full-sleeved white s.h.i.+rt. He suckled her nipple and fire seemed to lick downward, into the very core of her.
”Lucien. Dear G.o.d...” When he kissed her again, her fingers slid into his hair, dislodging the ribbon that held it in place and letting the heavy black strands fall free.
Lucien unfastened the tabs on her panniers, shoved her gown and chemise past her hips to her feet, deftly knelt and removed her slippers, then swung her up in his arms. Kathryn leaned her head against his shoulder as he strode out of his private drawing room through the door leading into his ma.s.sive bedchamber.
Wearing only her pink satin garters and white silk stockings, she found herself perched on the edge of the bed, her legs slightly parted and Lucien kneeling between them.
”Open yourself to me, Kathryn,” he softly commanded, finding her feminine core and beginning to stroke her. ”Let me love you as I have imagined a thousand times since you have been gone.”