Captain Durant's Countess(47)

“This is no game, Reyn. I want you to hold me. I want to hold you. If you just give me tonight, I’ll understand.”

“No.”

“Now who’s the parrot? Why?”

“Because . . . because, damn you! It’s not right.”

“It was never right, Reyn. From the beginning, we both knew that, but we did it anyway. And it was . . . glorious.”

Oh, God. It was torture. He’d finally recovered his scruples, and she came to tempt him. Of course he wanted her. If he looked into her trusting brown eyes, he would not be able to say no again. He racked his brain for a sufficient excuse. “I might hurt you. Hurt the child.”

“I-I don’t think that can be true.” There was a bit of doubt in her voice.

Perhaps it was enough to send her on her way. “If you are desirous of release, Maris, I suggest you use your hand as I taught you.” Just that morning, he’d thought of her hand between them, his partner in her own bliss. He felt her breath on his neck.

“Perhaps I didn’t need you to teach me that particular trick.”

Another taunting image for him to dwell on. “You see? You’re perfectly capable of taking care of your own needs.”

She squeezed his shoulder and he thought he’d shoot straight out of the chair. “You ridiculous man. It’s not the same at all. If we are no longer to be friends, I’ll face the rest of my life alone. You can give me one last night, surely.”

Reyn couldn’t help himself. He swung around to face her. “Friends, Lady Kelby? You refused my friendship as I recall.”

“Only in the very beginning, Reyn. We became more than friends. We became lovers. From just two days this miracle occurred. Think on it. Anything is possible.”

She is at it again. Reyn frowned. “If you think you can turn me into some kind of scholar—”

“Hush,” she said, bending over him. “I don’t want a scholar. I want a lover.”

Reyn couldn’t move away as her lips came down on his. Warm. Demanding. Commanding. His countess was not taking no for an answer, and truthfully Reyn could not have spoken even if his lips and tongue were available.

Oh, hell. He wasn’t strong enough to escape the scent of roses or the softness of her mouth. He’d been celibate long enough. “Just tonight,” he mumbled when she gave him a moment to breathe.

“We’ll see.”

He wouldn’t waste any more time arguing. Maris might feel sorry for him, but he could not help appreciating the way she chose to express it.

She sank to his rumpled pallet, pulled her rain-dampened night rail up over her knees and then paused. Her lashes flicked. “Perhaps I should keep covered. I don’t wish to give you a disgust of me.”

Idiot woman. In two steps, he lifted the garment over her head, disentangling her wavy braid from a button. Her skin glowed ivory in the low lamplight, breasts full, belly taut and rounded. He was rendered speechless by her fecund beauty. Without a thought, he placed his hand on the curve that cradled the baby.

She was almost six months gone with child, and not so very large yet. He knew nothing of pregnancy, save he’d always been scrupulously careful not to cause one.

“All is well?”

“I think so. I’ve felt the baby quicken. It is the most remarkable sensation, Reyn. I cannot begin to describe it.”

“Should you still be riding?” What on earth was he about, spoiling the mood of that seductive kiss?

“You sound like Dr. Crandall. I am fine, Reyn. Not sick, just pregnant. And very anxious to have you inside me if you can manage it.”

Well. He’d never been able to resist a challenge. Reyn would worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Tonight, he wouldn’t let himself think anymore at all.





Chapter 27


Maris had been unable to fall asleep with the receding rumbling of thunder and the heavy rain falling overhead. All she could think of was Reyn in his misery. No wonder he’d been bored and mocked her fanatic attention to all things historical. My Lord, she had given him books he couldn’t read to brush up on antiquities. Yet he’d been convincing, even with David. Reyn was resilient, a master at concealment. She wondered how he’d avoided offering himself up as a spy during the war.

Of course, secret codes would truly be secret to him.

He wasn’t stupid, no matter what he’d said. The more she thought about it, the more she admired him for coping with such a heavy burden. If she hadn’t picked up that ledger, she never would have guessed.

She’d lain awake in the strange bed until all lights were extinguished and all noises from the household ceased. Restless, she’d risen and gone to the window to watch the storm blow across the night sky. The mares’ stable was dark, but cracks of light limned the windows where Brutus and Phantom were housed. Reyn was there, wakeful, watching.

Wounded.

She’d nearly laughed at her alliterative turn of mind.

Maris refused to question why it was so necessary for her to steal down the stairs barefoot, hoping that the door leading to the stable yard was not locked, the key secreted away by one of Ginny’s servants. She was almost exultant when the door pushed open freely in the wind.

Closing it carefully behind her, she fled through the puddles and pounding raindrops to where Reyn was keeping vigil. Maris had not formulated exactly what she wanted to say to him; in fact, she really didn’t want to talk much at all once she’d said her peace.

She was wicked tonight, and blamed poor Henry for setting this scheme in motion. If she had not ever met Reynold Durant, she would not want his lips and hands on her body. Maris might not want to marry him—yet—but lying with him had been all she could think about since she blew out her candle.

Since she’d met him on horseback scant days ago.

Since she’d first laid eyes on him at the Reining Monarchs Society.

He needed to know she was not disgusted by him. He was, she thought, an amazingly persistent character to have gotten so far in life. Such perseverance was to be commended. Henry had seen it, even if he didn’t know the source of Reyn’s stubborn success.

Reyn was visible through the gap in the checked curtain on the window of his office, his hair every which way as he sat up on a pile of blankets on the wooden floor. From the frown on his face, she had thought he might deny her entrance, but then he nodded at her with resignation.

And now she was in his arms, where she fit perfectly despite her bulk. He looked at her with wonder, touching the place where their baby grew, making her feel wonderful. No, wonderful was an inadequate word. Treasured. For the first time in her life she lived up to her name. She felt as if she could be a god of fertility.

She’d been bold enough to kiss him first. She was greedy, really, her blood singing with desire.

The night was for him, however. Maris would share herself with no motive except to let him know without a doubt that she valued him. He’d called it a pity f*ck, and that was crude and unfair. She would give him the friendship he’d so effortlessly won from her with his charm and kindness.

His problem could have flattened another man, one who gave up and lost himself in ignorance. But Reyn was a fighter, even in civilian life. She seized his fingers and led them to her hollow. She was wet already. Shameless. But before she led him any further, she would talk to him.

“You touch me,” she whispered. “It hasn’t been the same when I’ve done it to myself, only imagining that you are there.”

“You think of me?” Through his gruffness, she heard the yearning. What a coil they were in.

“Every night. Every day as well. At first I thought it was the grief and loneliness that led me to fantasy. You know”—her voice hitched, but she went on—“I loved Henry, no matter what I’d done. His death was a shock even though I knew it would happen eventually. But he died alone in his library. You cannot imagine my guilt. It was made worse because I missed you. It doesn’t make any sense to me still—I barely knew you but when you left Kelby Hall—”

“As you asked me to,” he reminded her, his fingers still circling between them.

It was the most extraordinary conversation of her life. She was naked in a barn, allowing him to touch her. Needing him to touch her. But before she undressed him, she would say what she’d come for.

Maris sighed. “What would you have me do? There was no reason for you to stay. I moved to the Dower House almost immediately and went about my life, mourning many things.”

“And then you found out you were pregnant.”

“It seemed impossible. But I swear I would have told you. You know now. I am not trifling with you, Reyn. I want you, even if I cannot imagine how to accomplish it.”

She hissed as he slid a finger inside her.

“I think you are managing very well, my lady.”

“We can have this. If we are careful. I’m so afraid David will find out, but I almost don’t care.”