Escaping the Earl, page 10
Sabrina tensed, half expecting the men to come to blows. Lonsdale broke into an arrogant grin.
“Please, Lord Lonsdale, it’s a gift for the child, not for Mr. Lennox.” But the two men ignored her.
“Settle this the usual way?” he asked Rafe.
Rafe grinned back, but his expression was dark. “Naturally.”
Sabrina leaned in toward Peregrine. “What do you suppose is the usual way?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea. And frankly, I’m afraid to ask.”
Lysandra peered around Peregrine’s other side. “They will both drink until the first man collapses.”
Sabrina blinked. “What? But that is . . .”
Lysa rolled her eyes. “Idiotic? Yes.”
“I suppose that’s where us men will be after you ladies retire,” Peregrine sighed, clearly not in the mood for such behavior. Sabrina wanted to tell him about the note, but hopefully she would have a chance to mention it after dinner.
When the meal was finally ended, the ladies left the gentlemen and gathered in the drawing room. Each evening during their stay, Sabrina had managed to slip away. Even though all the ladies had made her welcome and had formed friendships with her, Sabrina still felt unsure as a governess where she ought to be at times like this.
Zehra caught her arm as she tried to leave. “Sabrina, stay. I enjoy talking with you so much. You need not run off. Lawrence and I view you as a guest, not part of Rafe’s staff.”
“You really are too kind to me.” Sabrina could deny Zehra nothing. She’d become so fond of Lawrence and his quiet, intelligent wife. They’d provided a companionship she wished she’d had while she’d been so isolated at her family’s cottage.
Zehra led her over to a settee. “Come, sit beside me.” The other ladies gathered to play cards at a table a little ways behind them.
“Now, tell me, will you be staying?” Zehra asked in a hushed voice.
“Staying?”
“With Lord Rutland.”
“What?” Sabrina swallowed hard.
“You and . . .” Zehra paled. “Oh heavens, Sabrina. I thought you and he had come to an understanding and had become secretly engaged. Please accept my apologies for the assumption.”
“No, it’s fine. I . . .” Sabrina wasn’t sure what to say. But she knew she could not admit to having a relationship of any kind with Peregrine. It would make Peregrine and Rafe look poorly in the eyes of the others.
Zehra reached out and clasped Sabrina’s hand. “Please say you forgive me. I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t thought . . .”
“There’s nothing to be forgiven, honestly.”
Zehra artfully changed the subject. “So you are to go to London with Rafe. Tell me, is he really as good a father as he appears to be?”
“Believe it or not, he is. There is something wonderful about watching him and Isla together, like a strange sort of magic.”
“Two lost souls finding each other—a man born to be a father and a child who deserves him.” Zehra touched her stomach and then leaned in. “I’ve been thinking so much of babies of late, and if what I sense is true, I will gift Lawrence with our first child soon. We have been at the task quite earnestly.” She blushed, and the two women dissolved into giggles.
“That’s wonderful, Zehra. I’m so happy for you both.”
Zehra’s blue eyes gleamed. “I admit, I am rather excited at the prospect. Raising children here in the country would be wonderful.”
“You must write to me in London and tell me of how it all goes,” Sabrina said.
It would be so good to receive letters from someone she had come to see as a friend. Until this week at the Russell house, she had never realized how alone she felt, but she did feel very lonely. For so long she had been trapped in a quiet, desperate life that she’d never been able to escape from until Lady Germain’s ball. Coming to live with Rafe and Isla had alleviated some of that loneliness but not all of it. She would always be a governess, and she wanted to be something infinitely more…just not to Rafe.
“Well, I should retire. I need to be rested for our trip home.” Sabrina didn’t want to leave her new friends here, but she also didn’t want to miss Peregrine if he did come to her room tonight.
The other young ladies gave her warm hugs before she made her way upstairs. She paused halfway up the steps and listened to the men, who were drinking and smoking cigars in the billiard room. She sent a silent thought out, hoping he would somehow hear.
Please come to me, Peregrine. Give me just one more night of joy . . .
“I see the only man who can hold his drink is Rutland,” Rafe said, his glass of brandy sloshing onto the carpet of the billiard room.
“He can hold it . . . because he isn’t drinking it,” Charles grumbled.
Charles and Rafe had escalated their drinking until both men now leaned heavily on their billiard cues in order to stay standing. The absurd matter of honor was yet to be settled between them.
Vaughn, Peregrine, Lawrence, and Linus all watched this battle, their own drinks for the most part abandoned.
“No, it is Darlington a man must watch,” Charles said and tipped his glass toward Vaughn. “He can drink and yet you never see him show a sign of being in his cups. What’s your secret, Darlington?”
“Wizardry,” Vaughn declared without hesitation. It was such a serious tone that both drunken men turned to stare at him.
“Did he say . . . ?” Rafe began.
“He did,” Charles confirmed.
Peregrine rolled his eyes. He was tired, and the thought of continuing to watch this drunken game of billiards left him decidedly uninspired. He also wanted to catch Sabrina tonight. Tomorrow she was leaving, but there were things he still wished to say.
“I am turning in, gentlemen.” Peregrine ignored the good-natured insults regarding his constitution as he left the room.
When he reached his chamber, he found his valet had left a note upon the floor. He bent and picked it up and began to read over the message, but then he realized it was not a message from his valet. It was from Sabrina.
* * *
Peregrine,
We have but one more night together. Please come to me after the lamps have been doused in the halls. You gave me such joy this last week, and I long for one last memory of you.
S.
* * *
He stared at the note, then hastily collected his dressing gown and a candlestick. He lit the candle and checked the corridor. The lamps had already been doused. She would be waiting for him. He moved silently to the opposite wing of the manor to where the nursery and Sabrina’s rooms were found.
He knocked softly on Sabrina’s door, holding his breath. His heart was racing, and he felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as though he’d done this before. For a moment nothing happened, and he feared she’d already fallen asleep. Then the door opened, and Sabrina’s face appeared in the crack.
“Am I too late?” he whispered.
She shook her head and gently pulled him into the room, gripping his shirt. When she closed the door and locked it, he set the candle on the table by her bed.
“Sabrina, we must talk—”
“No talking, please. I just want to forget about what tomorrow will bring.”
He felt uncertain, but she seemed determined to make him forget about anything but being together tonight. She removed her robe and stood there naked, her long dark hair tumbling down her shoulders in wild waves. He’d never been more tempted in his life except that night at Lady Germain’s. Yet that night and this both were so vastly different. Sabrina was real, tangible, not a dream.
“I believe you must take off your clothes as well,” she said with a nervous smile. He came toward her and placed his palms upon her shoulders.
“We do not need to do this if you don’t wish to.”
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Peregrine, I feel connected to you, and tomorrow I must go back to my life. I wanted one last memory with you. I know you are a gentleman, but I do not want a gentleman tonight. Please be wicked with me.”
She rubbed her cheek against his chest, and he felt that wild flutter inside him, like a murmuration of starlings taking flight. He could almost feel their invisible wings fluttering against the cage of his ribs.
“Be wicked?” he echoed, and she nodded. “Why me? Of all the fortunate men you could have chosen?” He had to know. He had never been special. He was no more handsome than some other men. Had she felt this way before she knew he was the Earl of Rutland? Or had this been building from the moment they met when he helped her rescue her horse?
She pulled back a little to look up at him. “It’s because you see me, not some poor woman who is dependent on others. You make me feel like myself in the best way, like I am home.” Her brown eyes held a thousand stories he wanted to spend the rest of his life unraveling, but they only had tonight.
“Then it would be my pleasure.” He tilted her chin back so he could lose himself in her gentle eyes. He’d become obsessed with those eyes, how they could light up, burn, shimmer, and shine as she turned playful or spoke with passion. He could watch her eyes forever.
He kissed her softly, but quickly lost control and soon let his own passion flow from his lips to hers. She worked at his cravat, unfolding it then sliding it free of his neck before she started on the buttons of his waistcoat.
“There.” She laughed with delight as she rid him of his waistcoat. Then he pulled his shirt free of his trousers and tugged it off over his head.
“I didn’t get a chance to touch you before,” she said as she ran her palms over his bare chest. Wherever she caressed him, his skin burned in the most sensual manner.
“Before?” he asked in a daze.
“When . . . when we kissed the last few times.” She reached for his trousers, and he was helpless to resist. He certainly didn’t want to.
Sabrina had almost let it slip that they had been together at the masquerade ball. Thankfully, he was focused on her touching him, because a moment longer and she would lose her own control. Something about Peregrine Ashby made her a complete and utter fool.
His chest was a thing of beauty, all hard muscles with a dusting of dark hair that she admired as she ran her palms over him. He inhaled sharply as she traced a fingertip over one of his nipples.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked.
“No.” His rough and low voice sent a shiver of feminine longing through her. “It feels too good,” he admitted. “And I cannot wait to return the favor.”
“To me?” She raised her eyes to his in question. He captured her hands and pressed them to his lips, pressing a slow, hot kiss to the center of each palm.
“You wished for wickedness, and you shall have it.” He bent and scooped her up, carrying her to the bed and laying her upon it. He pulled off his boots and stockings along with his trousers. She had only a moment to see his glorious naked form before he crawled up the bed to her to lie beside her. She reached out to touch his bare shoulder and then his hip. He chuckled and leaned over, pinning her arms on either side of her on the bed.
“When a man is very wicked, he enjoys teasing his lover. He kisses her in all the places he can reach, places that tickle and make her laugh. Places that fill her blood with quicksilver.”
“Show me,” Sabrina begged him. She wanted to feel for one moment the way she had that night with him at the ball, like she had a world full of joys ahead of her and not sorrows.
“You have magnificent breasts,” he whispered. “Almost too large for a man’s hands.”
He cupped one breast, squeezing gently before he leaned his head down and took one of her nipples between his lips and sucked. Pleasure shot down her body like lightning, and she gasped, arching up into him. His lips increased their pressure, and she writhed as a wet heat built between her thighs. Then he released her nipple and kissed a path across to her other breast. Only as he did so, he also slid one hand down her body to that secret spot between her thighs. She let her legs fall open, knowing what pleasures would come next. He dipped a finger into her, teasing her. She whimpered in frustration, raising her hips.
“You want it, don’t you, my sweetheart?”
She nodded frantically. “Yes, please . . . Peregrine.” She needed him to the point of madness.
He captured her lips again, making love to her mouth while he thrust a finger deep into her. When their mouths finally broke apart so they both could catch their breath, she cried out as he worked her to a fever pitch and her orgasm wrapped around her, holding her to him with invisible hands.
“That’s it, my love. Let go and just feel.” He moved over her then, his hips settling between her thighs, and then he entered her in one swift thrust. She threw her head back, and he held still.
“I’m sorry if this hurts you. Please, it will pass, I promise,” he whispered softly in her ear before kissing her.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she assured him. He believed her to be a virgin, but she wasn’t, and she didn’t want him to stop.
“Keep going,” she encouraged.
“You’re all right?” he asked.
“I am. Please, don’t stop.” Desire burned in her mind, and she could not think of anything else outside of how wonderful it felt to be connected to him. He withdrew and drove back in with growing intensity. He stretched her and filled her, the sensation of his shaft sliding in and out so exquisite that it brought tears to her eyes.
Peregrine was like a god come to life, his body a divine tool for her pleasure. Fire raced between their bodies. She pulled his head back down to hers and kissed him with a desperation she hadn’t wanted to let out. In that moment, as her second climax claimed her, she lost her grip on everything that made her feel sure of herself. She was reborn into a new creature, something that craved this man and the warmth of his body and soul.
He stiffened above her, every muscle rigid as he released himself within her. She held on to him, riding out her own pleasure as it slowly faded. But the way she felt now—the same as she had that night—didn’t fade. She burrowed deeper into him, relishing the feel of being wrapped up in his arms and surrounded by his raw, muscled physique. He had branded himself on her tonight, and she didn’t care. She would always belong to this man, no matter how much time passed.
She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank you, Peregrine.” He kissed the crown of her hair, the tender gesture creating little flutters through her chest. His breath came hard against her neck as he recovered himself. Then he shifted their bodies until they were both under the covers.
“May I stay with you?” he asked. His tone was so hesitant for a man usually so strong and self-assured.
She nodded and moved closer to him, not wanting any of this to end.
“Good, because it would’ve taken a lot to get me to leave you now.”
He brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek and stroked her hair away from her face. She wished the stars were above them, that they were again out on the grass in the meadow, lying side by side and gazing up at the celestial view.
“Sabrina, I’m sure you won’t believe me, but the way I feel for you, it’s not like I’ve felt for any other woman.”
“I feel the same as you, but please don’t say any more. We mustn’t ruin this.”
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair and said no more.
12
Sabrina was alone when she woke. Part of her was relieved Peregrine had the presence of mind to leave her bed before an upstairs maid discovered them together. Yet Sabrina hadn’t wanted their night to end, and now it had. Morning had come.
A sense of melancholy settled over her as she forced herself out from under the covers. She pulled on her dressing gown and began laying out her traveling clothes on the bed. She was dressed before an upstairs maid came to pack her things, and then she went in search of her young charge in the nursery.
Isla was dressed and eager for breakfast, so they came down together hand in hand. Most of the other guests were finishing their meals, and Sabrina had a chance to say her goodbyes to her hosts and the rest of her new friends. She helped Isla with her breakfast, and Rafe found them in the entryway after they had finished.
“Well, we are packed and ready to depart, if you are prepared to leave,” he informed her.
She hesitated, wanting desperately to see Peregrine one last time, even knowing it was a terrible idea.
“Sabrina!” Peregrine appeared at the top of the stairs as if her thoughts had summoned him.
Rafe shot him a glare before turning to Sabrina. “Isla and I shall be outside.” He picked Isla up and teased her until she was giggling as they left the house.
Peregrine rushed down the stairs and clasped her hands in his. She should have stepped back for propriety’s sake, but they were alone, save for a single footman who was politely looking away.
“Please, let me speak to you.” He led her into the library, where they would have some privacy to speak. Once they were alone, he grasped her hands in his again.
“Sabrina, would you . . .” He held his breath. “Would you stay with me at Ashbridge?”
Her heart leapt, and she was suddenly dizzy. “Stay?”
“Yes. I could easily make a place for you. You and Celeste would be cared for the rest of your days. I would shower you with jewels, gowns, anything your heart desires.”
Her heart leapt with such joy that it startled her, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was embrace the feeling of excitement for what he’d just asked her.
“Yes, I will marry you,” she answered quickly, too afraid he would change his mind. Perhaps that other woman he was supposed to marry had changed her mind? Or Peregrine had changed his and had broken off their engagement?
Confusion lit his eyes, and in that instant after she’d spoken, she realized she had made a mistake. He wasn’t offering marriage.
“Oh . . . Sabrina, I . . .” He cleared his throat. “I can’t marry you.”
