Dreams were wonderful things, no one could dispute that. But the moment when an intangible vision of one's desires becomes a reality? That is something infinitely more powerful and breathtaking than the moonlit inspired visions woven in the night. Now here Horatia was, waking beside Lucien. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and glimpsed snow falling outside the large window opposite her.The flakes had clumped into penny-sized blotches, drifting down like feathers. It was still early. The light in the sky was reduced to a heavy gray by the voluminous winter clouds. Horatia lay nestled next to him, the heat of Lucien's body warming her back. She rolled over, settling deeper into the feather bedding as she studied him in the dim morning light.Lucien was stretched out on his stomach. One hand was fisted around the bottom of his pillow, scrunching it up beneath his cheek. His other arm dangled off the side of the bed. The wide expanse of his shoulders and back were exposed as
An hour later, Horatia and the other ladies were assembled on the east side, admiring the fort the gentlemen had built for them. It was a waist high wall that arched around in a half circle about ten feet across, providing ample protection for the women now huddled behind it preparing their arsenals. The vast gardens behind Rochester Hall had been molded into a white battlefield ready for the coming war.Lady Cavendish was helping Lady Rochester manufacture their ammunition. Horatia, Audrey, Lysandra and Lucinda were in a tight circle, all wearing red fur-lined cloaks with heavy hoods pulled up. Audrey had remarked that they were the most fashionable army in Europe. They discussed the various traps and places to avoid in the garden, areas where one might become cornered and savaged by the weapons of the enemy."Should we try to lure them out from their fort?" Lucinda asked.Horatia glanced over her shoulder to the opposing fort fifty feet away. The men were hunkered down out of sigh
The rider from London arrived in the early evening, just in time to prevent everyone from going to dinner. Lucien took the note, and he and Cedric returned to his study to read it in privacy. Horatia and her sister lingered in the corridor outside. She thought it might involve news from his friends in London.Pressed against the wooden door to eavesdrop, Horatia flinched when she heard Cedric curse. There was a heavy thud, as though something had hit the wall. Lucien muttered something she couldn't hear, then there was a growl from her brother before footsteps approached the door. Both Audrey and Horatia scampered back, hoping to conceal their feeble attempts at eavesdropping.When the door opened, Horatia's stomach clenched as she saw Cedric's face shrouded by a mask of pain and barely controlled rage."What is it?" Audrey asked as she glanced between Cedric and Lucien."Charles sent some bad news," Lucien answered carefully. He glanced around, making sure that it was only the fou
Ashton sat in his study on Half Moon Street. Letters of a financial nature were strewn over the surface of his oak wood desk. The numbers on the letters blurred as pain lanced up his left arm, which still hung limp and useless in a sling about his neck.What a bloody nuisance being shot was. He had lost so much of his strength that his footman had to do many routine things for him and his valet, once a minor irritation, had become indispensible. He couldn't put a shirt on, let alone tie his neck cloth or button his trousers without assistance.It was most humiliating. Everyone treated him like a child in leading strings and he was tired of it. And he'd only been injured a few days. The doctor had given him instructions to rest for the next five weeks. The idea was intolerable. He, of all people, could not afford to rest. There was so much to be done aside from his business; namely tracking down Waverly and ending this battle before it could progress to a full-fledged war.With a hea
Cedric stretched stiffly in his chair by Audrey's bedside and rubbed the tight muscles in his neck with a weary hand. His sister was curled up in her bed fast asleep. Her delicate features and troubled expression made her appear like a fairy queen whose woes had followed her deep into the sacred realm of dreams.Holding her had brought back horrific memories of years long past. He couldn't protect her from this, couldn't save her from all the hurts in the world. In many ways, he'd been both father and mother to her and Horatia after losing their parents, and perhaps the greatest cost had been that there was no one to hold him as he silently grieved.The memories of last evening struck him all over again and Cedric shut his eyes. He'd been fond of Muff. The cat had been one of the last connections he and his sisters had of their parents before the accident.The accident. How many years would pass before the sting of his parents' deaths would subside? A man could only endure so much b
The dining room was uncomfortably quiet that morning. Horatia ate only because she did not know what else to do. And even this she prolonged by prodding her food from one side of her plate to the other. Lady Rochester tried to engage her in conversation but Horatia's heart was too bruised to answer Lady Rochester's polite inquiries with much enthusiasm.Horatia's gaze was torn between her brother at the far end of the table and Lucien who sat two seats away. It should have been a wonderful, joyous morning. She was a woman now, had crossed that threshold from innocent maiden to sensual goddess in Lucien's arms last night, yet she felt robbed of her happiness. Cedric's decree that she must choose left an unsettling pit in her stomach.She raised her eyes from her plate to find Lucien watching her every move. All of the pain of her brother's words seem to fade. She made her decision. She would give Lucien time, let him decide how he felt. If in the end he wanted her then she would be wi
Half an hour before Christmas Eve dinner, Lucien paced nervously inside the vast Russell library, waiting for Cedric to arrive. Gone were the last remnants of his misplaced coldness towards Horatia. All that was left was a deep seed of love. He'd spent years salting his soul trying to prevent that seed from taking root. But Horatia had become his sun, his water, and fed that deep seed. Petals were unfurling, roots coiling deep in his heart. He was going to have a long talk with his friend and Cedric would see the light and let Horatia be with him and that was that. There was no going back; he'd crossed the final bridge and burned it to ashes.The library door opened and Cedric entered, looking as cold as the empty suit of armor that guarded it."I received your summons." His friend seemed to choose his words carefully.Lucien tried to smile, but his nerves were on edge. "I did not mean to 'summon' you. I wished to discuss something of importance." His stomach felt as though someone
"It is time, my lord," Felix whispered, rousing Lucien from his bittersweet dreams. With great care he disentangled his body from Horatia's. She remained asleep, but she spread one arm out unconsciously seeking his vanished warmth and Lucien felt her loss like a blow. He dared not touch her, dared not get too close or he'd wake her and never be able to leave.Lucien donned a pair of trousers, then hastily pulled on a shirt and green waistcoat. Without bothering with a cravat, he pulled on his boots and left the room. With a single look back at his bed Lucien silently bid farewell."Sleep, my dear, and dream of the stars."He slipped down the hall until he reached Lawrence's bedroom. He found the door unlocked and saw Lawrence lay sprawled on his stomach, entirely naked from what Lucien could see. He approached his brother's bed and shook his shoulder."Wake up, Lawrence."Lawrence swatted a hand in Lucien's general direction."Five more minutes, Tom." Tom was Lawrence's valet. La
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More