Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

O nce reaching her room, her gown efficiently hung by Maria's maid, Hazel flopped down on the bed, toying with the silk ribbons of her nightgown. This bit of frill and lace was not her usual bed attire—she preferred something a great deal less ornate, plain cotton or wool—but she had packed with great urgency in fleeing Hough.

She dug her toes into the rug. Which she could reach. Because her legs were so bloody long.

The quiet of the room did nothing to silence her continuous rolling emotions. August was not a mere dalliance or the amusement of a bored spinster at a house party. Hazel had already admitted as much. What else she might be to him?—

She had considered, against her better judgement, what it would be like to be with August in a matrimonial sense, then immediately chastised herself with the reminder she didn't want to wed, and even if she did, August couldn't marry a woman so far beneath him. Coraline would make a wonderful duchess, which made Hazel's insides pitch and?—

"Bloody hell."

Hazel plucked at the coverlet with her fingers. "We don't have a future," she said out loud to the room, not completely believing the words. "What difference could it possibly make if he weds Coraline?"

She rubbed her chest at the pinch.

"An indiscretion or two is a normal occurrence at a house party, particularly amongst the ton . It is the only behavior of society of which I wholly approve. I'm sure August enjoyed our time together as much as I did, but it means nothing."

Not at all convincing.

No other casual assignation or lover she'd ever had had made Hazel question every opinion and rule that governed her life. Good grief, she was thinking of what it would be like to wake up beside August every morning.

Or to have his child inside her womb.

"Ugh." Hazel flipped over to her stomach and glanced at the clock atop the fireplace. She'd left the drawing room well over an hour ago. Some of the guests had returned to their rooms while Hazel sat wallowing in misery, their footsteps echoing in the hall outside her door. But there had been no distinct, heavy tread of a large man. August was quiet, true, but he also wasn't sneaking about a battlefield, just down Maria's guest wing. Also, he might be strolling about the garden with Coraline. Possibly pinning her up against that same tree and?—

A floorboard outside her door creaked.

Hazel lifted her chin. The lone lamp in her room barely cast enough light to see past the bed. She stared, waiting for a knock.

A piece of paper swooshed into the room from beneath the door. Neatly folded with her name across the front.

Hazel came off the bed and tiptoed to the door. Picking up the slip of paper, she took in the neat, slanted handwriting. A thrill shot through her.

May I come in?

The large initial ‘A' scrawled at the bottom left no doubt as to who had written the note. Not at all ducal. Nor was he being especially discreet. Anyone could see him standing outside her door.

She turned the knob, ignoring the mad fluttering of her pulse. Warm turquoise flashed down at her, along with the distinct scent of lime and clean linen.

"Yes," Hazel whispered.

August hadn't planned on seeking her out, but he'd found, after enduring Coraline, Lady Leek, the Pierce girls, and several others that the evening was quite intolerable without his overly tall spinster. If nothing else, he'd come to the conclusion that a life without a spark, one that did not include Stork, would be no life at all. It would only be existing.

He had to tell her how he'd come to be at this house party.

August had survived Quatre Bras. He wasn't a complete coward. But looking down at all those lovely freckles spilling across Hazel's cheeks, with mischief glittering in her dark eyes, August couldn't quite find courage to say the words that might make her hate him.

"Stork." He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Must you call me that?" she whispered, glancing down the hall. Satisfied, she shut the door.

"I'm afraid I must." His forefinger trailed along the line of her jaw before sliding over the edge of her mouth. "Would you prefer buttercup? My little rose? Or perhaps?—"

Hazel placed her fingers over his lips. "Enough, Your Grace. What are you doing here?" She tried to sound put out with his sudden appearance but failed miserably. "Did you grow tired of Lady Coraline?"

"Exhausted," he confirmed. "She isn't quite withered enough for me. I like my women elderly. Shriveled up."

"Cad." But she was laughing.

"Giggling with Everhurst like a schoolgirl. You are fortunate I didn't call him out."

"Nonsense." She pressed a tiny kiss to his chin. "Everhurst is your friend, and unless I'm completely mistaken, the only woman who holds his interest is Lady Eliza."

"Do that again." August lowered his chin a bit until she complied and kissed him once more. "Fine, but I did become enraged by the sight of Garland salivating over your bosom."

"I don't believe he was salivating, Your Grace." She plucked at his shirt. "Assessing my bosom, perhaps, over our game of chess. But nothing more." The palm of her hand moved over his chest to settle at his stomach.

"I don't care for Garland." August sucked in a breath at her touch. "I care even less for his grasp on your attention."

"As it turns out, Your Grace, Garland isn't fond of you either." The very tips of her breasts brushed his chest.

August leaned over to nuzzle along the slope of her neck. "You smell delicious, my Stork. Good enough to eat." He nipped at her skin. "I am sorry you had to endure that little twit. I wanted to put a stop to his consideration of these." His palm brushed suggestively over her breast. "But did not want to cause undue speculation about how we spent our day."

"Because it might curtail your pursuit of Lady Coraline?" Hazel asked.

"I did not wish you to be the source of gossip," he said, meaning every word. How easy it would have been to allow a scandal to simmer in that drawing room tonight. Lady Leek would have made sure the whispers followed Hazel to London. "I'm not pursuing Coraline," he continued. "Playing whist with her is as far as I'll go." August grabbed her hand before she could pull away, pressing a kiss to her naked shoulder. "I don't want to discuss Coraline. This"—his finger toyed with the ribbon at her shoulder—"merits far more of my attention."

"A ribbon?" She arched towards him just slightly. "Merits your attention?"

"Well, it seems terribly fragile, Stork. Barely capable of holding up this large doily you're wearing."

She laughed softly, a sound that sent a gentle ache over his heart.

Pulling on the ribbon, he watched as the bow unfurled and one small, delicate breast was revealed. His thumb rubbed over the edge of her nipple, making it harden beneath his touch. So incredibly sensitive. So his .

"Garland is very fortunate he did nothing more than look," August growled.

"You think I would encourage Garland?" she whimpered. "After the beach?"

"Probably not." He winked. "I was rather magnificent."

"Arrogant. Spoiled." She arched into him further. "Lascivious libertine."

"Guilty." His tongue trailed over the curve of Hazel's ear, listening to the way her breath hitched. "There is something I should tell you."

How was he to explain his deceit to her, now that she was warm and willing in his arms? He shut his eyes for a moment, allowing the dull thud of his heart to echo across his chest. When he opened them, he said, "I am sorry for Pensford."

"You were quite horrible."

Ashamed at his lack of bravery, at least where she was concerned, he nibbled instead at her bottom lip.

"Ruined my best dress," she breathed. "You will have to make it up to me."

His arm wrapped tightly about her, spinning Hazel towards the bed. "I intend to plead for absolution." August tugged at the silk and lace hiding her body from him, tearing at the bow on her other shoulder, only satisfied when the ribbon fluttered to the rug and the silk slid down the length of her.

"What good fortune," she gasped. "And coincidence. To arrive at the same house party."

Branson told me where to find you.

Hazel sighed as he nibbled and licked at her breasts. Her small bosom was perfect. She was perfect.

"A lovely twist of fate bringing us together once more," she sighed. "Rather poetic."

Not fate. My need for your fortune.

The weight of his guilt nearly suffocated August. This was no romantic fairy tale. Nothing more than the necessity of her fortune had brought them together. This house party existed in a bubble, but the gossip had likely already spread through London.

August opened his mouth to speak, but Hazel's hands were already sliding beneath his shirt. He was having trouble thinking, with her clever fingers caressing him. He relieved himself of his clothing in record time before climbing atop the bed.

Hazel immediately pushed him over on his back, licking at the hollow of his throat.

"Stork," he whispered as she crawled atop him, spreading her hands over his chest.

She moaned softly as she straddled his cock before slowly sliding down the length of him. Her fingers gripped his shoulders.

August came to his elbows, watching in rapt attention as her hips ground against his own. Taking Hazel around the waist, he pulled her closer until they faced each other, hooking his ankles around her back.

"I wish to stay with you forever," he whispered, hearing his own desperation. Felt the ache for her with every beat of his heart. "I don't wish us to part, Stork." Maybe he could convince Hazel not to return to London but come to Windhaven with him. They could be wed quietly and?—

Don't be an idiot. She'd never forgive you.

"Unfortunately, I think Lady Talbot would object." She arched her back with each thrust, gasping when his hand reached between them to brush against her folds. "If we never vacated her guest room. And the house party will end in two days." She kissed him. "Dear lord, but that feels— splendid."

August's fingers stilled until she nipped at his neck.

"Terrible troll. I don't wish to part from you either, as it happens."

"I mean ever , Stork." His eyes fluttered shut as his thumb once more toyed with that sensitive button hidden in her folds. Each shallow thrust torturous, the position of their bodies teasing at more but not allowing it.

"I won't be your mistress." Her voice was soft but resolved. "Once you are wed." Her voice raised an octave as he caught her flesh between thumb and forefinger. "Don't ask it of me."

August drew her to the very edge, waiting until her legs trembled before his fingers retreated. He flipped Hazel to her stomach, pressing his palm along the line of her back until she arched her hips off the bed. He wanted no one else to ever see her like this. Have her like this. Ever again.

"I don't mean as my bloody mistress." August buried himself inside her with a hard thrust, listening to her gasp and claw at the coverlet. Biting the back of her neck, he took her like some animal. A bloody savage. All because he would never have enough of Hazel Dartmont. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as she trembled beneath him, crying out her pleasure into the pillows even as his own wasn't far behind.

"I meant, as my wife."

Much later, August glanced out the window just as the sky was beginning to turn that particular shade of pearly gray which heralded the sunrise. He gently plucked Hazel's fingers from his chest and rolled out of the bed, careful not to wake her. The servants would be about soon, and he didn't want to be found in her room.

He hadn't been able to sleep, not well at least. Not with his thoughts and emotions so muddied. August wanted to marry her. Yes , her fortune was a consideration. But he needed to make her understand that his situation, while not of his making, was ultimately his responsibility. He had no choice. He must wed an heiress. But that did not in any way detract from his feeling for her.

Leaning over, August pressed a kiss to Hazel's temple, pulling the covers up to her chin in case she got cold without him.

He had finally fallen in love, after what felt like a lifetime of meaningless affairs. With his beautiful Stork. Who would, ironically, never believe he truly loved her.

A deep sadness filled him. There wasn't any way around the situation. August had to explain himself to her. He cursed Edward for choking on a fish bone and leaving August to clean up this mess.

Coming to his feet, August picked up his boots, resolving to tell Hazel after breakfast. He'd send a note, asking her to meet him in the garden. Away from the other guests. He made his way out of the room, careful to pause and scan the hall for early risers. Satisfied no one was about. August shot Hazel once last glance and crept back down the hall to his own room.