Where the Viscount Met His Match, page 25
He had to shake his head as he thought about everything that had transpired to keep them from making it to that point already. It was almost as if fate was constantly working against them, but he was determined that, this time, things would end in their favor.
Dismounting, Roarke handed his reins off to a waiting groom. He felt as though his step was considerably lighter as he bounded up the steps.
When Winston opened the door and announced that a letter had arrived for him, he felt a grin split his face.
He ripped the missive open before he’d even taken off his greatcoat.
It is time. I have it all arranged. Good luck.
—C
Roarke closed his eyes. Finally.
Mara sent up a silent prayer of thanks when Dr. Harris turned to her. When he’d first arrived that morning, his features had been pinched and wary, but now the lines around his eyes had vanished, and Mara knew that his prognosis was going to be a good one. But truly, she hadn’t needed the doctor to tell her that Bentley was going to live. She knew it the moment his eyes had fluttered open, and that dark gaze had focused on her with tears of hope in his eyes.
“I must say I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been here to witness his condition with my own eyes. I can’t believe how quickly he’s improved in just a week’s time. It’s a miracle for sure.” He turned to Mara and smiled kindly. “Or maybe it’s due to the care of his guardian angels. He’s lucky to have friends like you and Madame Celeste to look after him, Miss Miller.”
“Thank you, Dr. Harris,” Mara could feel herself beaming from the inside out. “It was a tough road, but I knew B would come through.” Squeezing the boxer’s hand, she said, “I had no doubt of it.”
Celeste stepped forward. “I’ll walk you out, doctor.” Then she turned to Mara, “How about you get some rest too. I’ll come back and sit with B for a while.”
Mara turned to Bentley. “Is that all right, B?”
When he gave a nod, she bent down to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon to check on you, I promise.”
After that first night, Celeste had given Mara a room upstairs and down the hall from hers. She’d also closed down the House until Bentley had recovered.
“I have some money saved up. Besides, it’s not good to work all the time.” She’d added with a wink.
On the heels of that reminder, Mara had brought to mind her own neglected shop. For years she couldn’t imagine doing anything else but running that modest haberdashery. It had been her salvation, but the thought of going back there now seemed completely foreign to her. It was difficult to believe that only weeks, and not months, or even years, had passed since she had crossed paths with Roarke on that fateful day. It was almost ironic to think that when he’d come through that door, she felt her entire world was falling into shambles, but the fact of the matter was, he had made it whole again.
The problem was she had no idea how to make it right.
Obviously, she’d learned nothing from her past mistakes, for she’d panicked and run, just like she had seven years ago. Roarke likely thought that she didn’t trust him, that when she said she loved him, it was just another lie in her long list of transgressions.
But it wasn’t true.
Athena had told her to listen to Roarke’s side of the story, to give him a chance to explain why he’d left her that morning at Eversleigh Hall, but what if he didn’t want to hear her excuses for leaving? What if—perish the thought—he was glad that she was gone?
What if…what if…what if…
Mara shook her head. She would go crazy if she didn’t stop this incessant wondering. Bentley was going to live, and that’s what she had to focus on.
Everything else would have to be dealt with as it came—one day at a time.
Pansy had already lit a fire in her room when Mara entered. The rest of the chamber was in shadow, and Mara couldn’t help but shudder suddenly. While the color scheme wasn’t as bold as that of Celeste’s room with her red, gold, and orange, the various shades of silver and green were just as telling and bespoke of what this room represented—a brothel.
But she knew that wasn’t what had made her shiver.
The fine hairs on her nape stood on end, and her skin prickled as she slowly turned back around. Her lungs instantly ceased to draw breath as she caught sight of Roarke’s silhouette in the door frame filling the void she’d just entered…
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mara stood, paralyzed, as he spoke, that rich, deep timbre rippling through the silence around them, even though his face was still in shadow.
“And here I thought you might have made it difficult for me.”
The same words he’d uttered so long ago tore through her soul.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
“You don’t know?” he returned, just as softly.
When he moved into the light, Mara felt her heart begin to pound in her chest. His gaze was intense enough to sear her, those breathtaking, hazel eyes that haunted her dreams and nightmares alike staring right at her. She was captured by that hypnotic stare, and a desperate longing filled her until she was consumed by it.
Mara didn’t know if she whispered his name, or perhaps he was merely connected to her as strongly as she was to him, for he suddenly strode forward, as stealthily as any wraith of the night. He didn’t say anything as he stopped before her, merely held out his hand. The heat from his body warmed her blood as, with trembling fingers, she accepted his offering. She was powerless to resist him.
She always had been.
“Thank God,” he whispered. He pulled her to him, grasped her head, and bent down and kissed her until her knees grew weak from the passion and need in his embrace. When he pulled back, he placed his forehead next to hers. “You don’t know what I’ve been through…”
He broke off abruptly and took her hand, leading her over to the bed where she sank down helplessly, finding that her legs would no longer support her. She watched in near fascination as he sat beside her, the bed dipping as it accepted his weight.
She could hardly dare to believe that he was actually here before her, but as he flicked his thumb across her nipple, causing her to gasp, she realized it was all too real.
Every nerve ending came to life as Roarke continued to caress her. He fit her breast in his palm and squeezed gently. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, shall we?” he murmured.
He made short work of her dress and undergarments, leaving her stockings for last. He slid the silk down her legs in such a sensual manner that she was nearly panting by the time he was finished.
He rose up before her, and she was transfixed by how sensual he was with his rich, sandy hair falling over his forehead. He dipped his head and put his mouth over her sensitized breast and began to suckle. Her legs moved restlessly, the ache in her midsection pulsing wildly for his touch. “Roarke…”
It was a plea he fully understood for he reached down to find the small bud hiding within the juncture of her thighs where she’d already grown wet with her need. He stroked her relentlessly until she felt she might go mad from the sheer torment of the pleasure that was just out of reach. But just when she might have reached that precipice, he moved away.
“Please…” She didn’t care if she begged at this point. She bit her lip, for she was dying for want of him.
She heard the slight rustling of clothes as he undressed. “I’m not going anywhere, my love.”
The endearment caused her heart to twinge with hope, but as he came to her and bare skin met bare skin, his wonderful, jutting erection starting to penetrate her inner core with every wondrous inch, she became lost to the glorious ecstasy of it all.
Each time Roarke joined with her, the experience kept getting better. She would never tire of him as long as she had breath in her body and right now, she wanted more of him.
She boldly flipped their positions so that she was straddling him. She gasped as he went even deeper and when he grasped her hips and began a steady rhythm, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed, she could feel the tide growing.
“You are so beautiful,” Roarke whispered.
She felt wanton as she looked down at him.
Her hair eventually escaped its confines and fell around her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Her breasts swayed with her movements, and she rode his cock like any experienced courtesan. When her tongue darted out to lick her lips, she smiled at the look of torture on his face, as if it were all he could do not to expend himself right then.
It wasn’t until he reached between them to touch that most sensitive part of her that she teetered on the brink before finally exploding around him. Her entire body shook with the power of her release, but it wasn’t until the tremors had finally subsided and she was fully replete, that he gave a hoarse shout, calling out her name. The muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened and bunched, then he spilled every last bit of himself inside her.
Mara finally understood what it was to have stars in one’s eyes. She certainly felt as if she were floating among the heavens. Her entire body hummed in delightful pleasure, and she was sure nothing could make this experience more fulfilling—until Roarke stood up and pulled his trousers on.
Instantly, her heart clenched, for she feared what might come next. Dear God, please say this isn’t the end, that he didn’t come here only to tell me goodbye…
Warily, Mara sat up and pulled the sheet over her as he came back and sat on the edge of the bed.
He put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands loosely together. He wore a light frown and kept his gaze firmly fixated on his intertwined fingers. It was such a pensive expression that she tried to brace herself for what was to come, for whatever he was about to say certainly didn’t seem very encouraging.
But when he spoke, the words that came out of his mouth were rather unexpected.
“I owe you an apology.” He clenched his jaw as if what came next was going to be difficult. “After you told me what happened with my father, I was upset…but not in the way you might imagine. I felt responsible because I wasn’t there to protect you, but I also felt…guilty, because I know I would have acted exactly as your sister if I had been there, and I wouldn’t have regretted my actions.”
When he finally turned his head to look at her, her pulse leaped at the emotion swirling in those hazel depths. “For years I knew what kind of man my father was, but I chose to turn a blind eye to it. I had always been so proud of my heritage, of Eversleigh Hall, that I never once bothered to accept it for the façade that it truly was.”
He grasped her hand. “It’s taken me all this time to realize that I didn’t just leave England because I was grieving, I left because I was ashamed to take over a title that was attached to so much scandal.”
Blowing out a breath, he went on. “But for all of my mistakes and misdeeds, I fully intended to marry you all those years ago. The other day at the Hall, when you saw me riding away, it was only to go to the village with Rion to make a statement to send James Larkin and his accomplice to the gallows. When I returned, and Lyra told me you’d left…” He shook his head, his eyes blazing. “I had never felt so helpless. I couldn’t believe it was possible to feel so strongly about another human being until I met you. The idea of losing you a second time was unbearable when these past seven years have been spent in a living hell.”
Mara reached out and stroked his cheek with the palm of her hand. She felt a day’s worth of stubble and for some reason that made her smile. “Oh, Roarke, I’m such a coward. The only reason I left Eversleigh Hall was because I was scared. I should have trusted you all those years ago, but I couldn’t believe that what you felt for me was genuine. I thought I was repeating my mother’s mistakes. I was so young and naïve, and we were from such different worlds, and then your mother made it seem…”
She glanced down at her hands. There was no use opening old wounds. The riff between Roarke and Lavinia was large enough without her adding to it. “Then, after that night in the conservatory when I told you the awful truth, I was afraid you could never forgive me. Trust me, if I could take back all those awful years, I would. Nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the remorse and regret I feel for lying to you.”
He reached out and lifted her chin. “If this whole experience has taught me anything,” he said huskily, “It’s that nothing should ever be taken for granted. We’ve wasted so much time and lost so much. I don’t want us to lose again.”
A bloom of hope unfurled in her chest as a tear fell down her cheek. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“It means more than that.” He wiped away the single drop of moisture with the pad of his thumb. “I still intend to marry you, you know.”
“After everything?” Mara shook her head. “Is it even possible for us to live happily ever after?”
He flashed that amazing grin. “As much as we’ve been forced to endure thus far, I would say that there’s no other option.”
Mara sighed. “But what about your mother? And society? I won’t stand in the way of—”
“I couldn’t give a damn less about what society thinks. As for the other…” He reached into his pocket and produced a small box. He opened the lid, and she gave a startled gasp.
“May I?” he asked. He removed the emerald ring and gently placed it on her finger. “Imagine that. It’s a perfect fit.”
She couldn’t keep from staring at the circle of dazzling diamonds surrounding the green stone. “Is this…?” She couldn’t even finish the statement she was so astonished.
Roarke nodded. “Yes, it’s the Eversleigh betrothal ring. This stone confirms that my mother gives us her blessing. Surely this is all the affirmation we need to prove that we are destined to be together.”
Mara looked back at him in awe. “This has to be a dream.”
“If that were the case,” Roarke nuzzled her ear, “Then I should be very curious how this might feel if it was.”
Mara closed her eyes in surrender, but before it got too far out of hand, she asked curiously, “How did you know where my room was, anyway?”
Roarke shrugged. “I merely pleaded my case with the Madame. After a very vocal lecture on how I should treat you and what would happen to certain parts of my anatomy should I act out of character, she was rather forthcoming.”
Mara couldn’t help but laugh, and it felt wonderful to do so after so many years of holding back any true joy. “She is a loyal friend.”
“I gathered as much,” Roarke murmured, “Now, where were we?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Three days later…
* * *
“I hope you’re happy that I was tossed out of my residence bright and early this morning.”
Roarke glanced up from his desk as Lord Rockford strode into his study without even bothering to knock. The earl lifted an arrogant brow, although his blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “I assume there is a fine French brandy waiting for me for my sacrifice.”
Roarke shook his head as he poured the requisite drink, but when he handed the crystal
tumbler to Rion, he couldn’t seem to quit smiling like some besotted fool. “I’m sorry my wedding day is putting you out of sorts, Rockford,” he returned dryly.
The earl waved a hand. “Well, I must admit I’d rather be here than in that house full of shrieking women.” He gave a mock shudder. “They nearly went into hysterics over a strand of lace!”
Roarke merely grinned before he pointed out, “May I remind you that it was your wife who whisked away my betrothed? I would have been perfectly content having her under my roof until the vows were spoken.”
“I’m sure,” Rion countered slyly, “In fact, I shouldn’t be surprised if your first offspring turns out to be ‘premature.’”
Instead of taking offense, Roarke threw his head back and laughed. “Athena must be a saint to put up with you.”
Rion took a sip of his drink and offered a wink. “You have no idea.”
“Baron Ambrel,” Winston announced from the doorway before he silently took his leave.
“Ah, Gregory!” Rion pronounced, “Come join the party!”
His brother-in-law eyed him warily. “Be careful that you don’t enjoy yourself too much, Rion, or else you might have trouble standing witness to the ceremony.”
“Killjoy,” Rockford mumbled, but he was ignored as the baron greeted Roarke with a hearty clap on the back.
“Congratulations, Eversleigh,” Gregory smiled. With a deep breath, he added, “Look at us. Three young bucks who ruled Eton back in our day now to be happily married men. How times have changed.”
“Indeed, they have,” Roarke concurred softly. “And thank God for it.”
Mara couldn’t seem to stop humming as the dress chosen for her wedding gown was fitted with last minute alterations. As the maid took it away, she threw a robe over her undergarments and sat at her dressing table. She smiled when she remembered walking into the guest room at Rockford House after leaving Madame Celeste’s and her gasp of delight upon seeing the array of colorful gowns spread out on the bed. She was even more surprised to learn that they were hers, an early wedding gift from her husband-to-be. Not only was that enough to endear Roarke to her even more, but there was a plethora of undergarments, bonnets, shoes, and accessories to go with them.
As she’d touched a ruby brooch, Mara felt guilty that she didn’t have something this grand to give Roarke in return for his generosity, but then she’d lightly touched her stomach with a happy grin.
The child that was growing in her womb would be her wedding gift to him.
