Chapter 19

Sunlight warmed Prospero as he stood watching Elise, his hands on his hips and a smile curving his mouth. His wife wore her men's trousers, a shirt, and a dark-blue waistcoat, but thankfully, she had forgone the binding of her breasts, her wig, and her mustache. She wasn't trying to hide who she was today, and for that Prospero was glad.

She'd pulled her hair back into a queue at the nape of her neck and secured it with a ribbon to keep her locks out of the way. Prospero stood beside her at the base of Culver Down. The cliffs that abutted the low-lying beach were chalk-white and topped with grass. The cottage they had been staying at was only a short way up the nearby sloping hill.

Cattle dotted the slopes of the northern side of the isle, nibbling on grass while seabirds whirling above the beach, hunting for fish. Earlier, Elise had pointed out both peregrine falcons and wood pigeons among the seabirds when they'd first come down to the shore. It seemed fitting that the word Culver was supposedly derived from the Old English word culfre for "dove." Elise had shared that fact with him when they'd first walked down to the beach. The chalk-white cliffs reminded him of the white wings of doves.

The Atlantic was deep and rich in a thousand shades of blue, from the pale frothing seafoam to a darker sapphire that would turn obsidian in the evening. It was a starkly beautiful contrast against the white of the cliffsides.

During the day, there had been many visitors to this part of the isle, many of them frolicking along the shore and even a few men dashing into the sea in their swimsuits. The ladies stayed on the beach, umbrellas shielding their skin against the sun as they gossiped or watched the birds and the sea. Children had rushed to build castles from wet sand and play games under the watchful eyes of their mothers.

Elise hadn't worried about the sunlight. She'd simply gone about her digging, not caring that she would turn pink by nightfall. Prospero had delighted in watching the small crowd that had stopped to watch her work throughout the day.

More than a few children had gathered around her, curious to see the shells she'd freed from the stone with her tools. She crouched down to speak to them, showing them the ammonites she'd discovered and explaining the long history of the earth and the great creatures that had once roamed this land.

"You mean the great and terrible creatures from the British Museum?" one Scottish girl asked. Her little pinafore had been embroidered with flowers by some loving mother's hands, and yet it was stained with seawater and sand. She gazed up at Elise in wonder, and a lump formed in Prospero's throat as he watched Elise with the child. She was warm and welcoming with the girl's interest.

"Yes, exactly! Have you visited the museum?"

The girl's dark curly hair bounced as she nodded. "We saw the wee beasties and the... the vast beasties." She opened her arms wide to show just how big, and Elise chuckled.

"And did you enjoy seeing those creatures?"

The girl grinned shyly. "What did they eat?"

"Plankton, sea vegetation, possibly even small crustaceans."

"And are they still in the ocean? Or are they gone?"

"They aren't alive anymore, but the nautilus is perhaps a descendant that is still alive today," Elise said. "Why don't you take this to your mama and papa and show them? Tell them what it is and explain what you learned." Elise put one of the ammonites into the girl's palm and closed her fingers around it.

"Thank you!" The child rushed away to show her parents her new treasure.

Prospero had a feeling that today had lit a spark in the girl's heart to reach for knowledge, no matter how hard it might be or how many men might try to stop her.

"Be free," Elise had whispered as she watched the child run off with her new find.

Now as he stood an hour later watching Elise work, Prospero let out a breath as a sense of peace filled him. Elise's father had been right—time away from London had done them both good. His wife—oh how he found such a delight in those two words—was digging on a spot on the cliffs with a set of tools that she used for her fossils.

He recalled her excited discussion about a woman named Mary Anning, who had been a working-class woman whose fossil discoveries would change the course of both history and science. But because she was a woman, and one of the laboring class at that, she was prevented from joining the Geological Society and her discoveries were never taken seriously during her lifetime. It hurt Prospero's soul to know that she'd been so mistreated by the supposedly illustrious men of science.

"Would you fetch my trowel?" Elise asked. "I left it in my bag."

"Yes, darling." He kissed her cheek and then left the cliffside to walk back up the path toward where they'd left her bag of tools.

"Bloody hell, that's a woman!" he heard a man exclaim.

Prospero turned to see a pair of gentlemen who'd paused in their stroll along the pedestrian path that paralleled the beach. They now stared at Elise as she bent to chip away at a spot on the base of the cliffs.

"Who the devil let her out of the house? It is a disgrace, that is," the second man added.

Prospero tensed as he stared at the two men who were glaring at Elise. "I will thank you not to speak ill of my wife like that."

"God's blood, you let your wife run about dressed like that? You should take better command of your woman, sir. It's unnatural to let a woman wear trousers. You, sir, are letting her develop an unnatural sense of freedom that is directly against a woman's natural purpose, which is to be silent and bear children for the benefit of her husband."

Prospero strode up to the two men, fists clenched, and gripped the man by the collar, lifting him up onto his toes.

"My wife is free to do as she bloody well pleases, and if you remove your head from your arse and take a look about you, you might realize the world would be better if women were given the freedom to think and exist outside the whims of men."

The man's eyes flashed with both fear and rage as he tried to free himself.

"You're bloody mad! Let go of me!" he demanded.

"Gladly!" Prospero shot back, and shoved the man so hard he fell onto his backside on the walkway.

"Just who the devil do you think you are?" the other man shouted as he helped his friend stand up.

A cold smile slid across Prospero's face as he realized that the black mark upon his name would finally become useful. "Who am I? I am Prospero Harrington, the Earl of March."

"March? Isn't that the fellow who—" The man stuttered to a stop. He and his friend began to back away.

"Yes, I am the man who will shoot a man on a field of honor for what I believe in." His voice was quiet but cutting, the threat in it sharp and dangerous. "So speak of my wife again or any woman like that in my hearing and you will face the barrel of my gun."

The two men turned tail and ran back up the hill, losing what little dignity they still possessed. It took him a second to let go of the rage drumming inside him. Prospero turned around, a grim scowl on his face, and nearly ran straight into Elise. She'd abandoned her digging and had come up behind him. Her face was pale.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to threaten them in front of you." It must've been terrifying for her to hear her husband speak so casually about shooting a man. God, he was a thoughtless fool.

She blinked. Her soft brown eyes were so innocent of the dark ways of the world, and he never wanted that innocence of her heart to vanish.

"You...," she began, then halted, then drew in a deep breath and began again. "You defended me," she said. "I heard what they said. Sea breezes carry sound to the cliffs, you know..." She paused, shook her head, and tried to focus on her words again. "You truly meant what you said." It was a statement rather than a question.

He nodded, his throat constricting as he saw that she finally believed in him. He would never clip her wings, or cage her into a life she didn't want. She was capable of great and wonderful things, and he wanted her to live her dreams and make her discoveries, knowing that he stood beside her, ready to defend her against any man who would dare try to stop her from living a full life of her own making.

She threw herself against him so hard that he grunted as he caught her in his arms. He smiled against her lips as she kissed him. This kiss was better than all the others that had come before because he tasted her love and now fully, finally, her trust.

He tightened his grip around her, holding her close as he kissed her back, letting her feel his joy, his love. When she finally pulled back, the late-afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky, haloing her with a golden glow.

She was his warrior wife, his Joan of Arc.

"I would go to war for you, for the right for you to have a full life," he whispered. Every creature on this earth deserved that, but especially women. Women had so much taken from them, so much of their own autonomy, power, and value stripped away and given over to men. It broke his heart to think of all the women who had no chance to escape the cages that were slammed down around them the moment they first drew breath in this world. But Elise... his beautiful, brave, wonderful wife—she'd escaped her cage, and he be damned if he'd ever let her return to it.

Tears clung to her dark-gold lashes as he brushed his thumb over her cheek to catch a few stray tears. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. An immense fullness in Prospero's chest made it hard to breathe. He would gladly die for this woman.

"Would... you like to see what I found?" she asked, changing the subject. She nodded toward the cliffs, her adorable hesitancy making his heart skip a beat. Someday he hoped that she would lose that hesitancy entirely.

"I will always want to see what you found." He would never forget the sight of the brilliant smile she gave him for the rest of his days.

She grasped his hand and pulled him back along the winding path.

* * *

Later that evening, they shared dinner meal back at the cottage. Elise finished her wine and abandoned her seat at the intimate little dinner table. She walked around toward Prospero, who had pushed back his chair, preparing to stand. She gently placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Startled, he grinned as she lifted her skirts to straddle him.

They were quite alone now, at least in the small dining room. Mary and Conley, Prospero's valet had taken their supper an hour ago in the kitchen with the cook and the maid. It seemed they were all quite happy to stay away from the newly married couple, who made use of any surface to get acquainted on the sensual level.

Elise would've been embarrassed at the servants knowing their bedroom activities, but Prospero was simply too irresistible to her. So she'd abandoned her sense of propriety and embraced her passion instead.

She reached between their bodies to slowly unfasten his trousers. His cock was already hard and straining against his clothing when she palmed it. "I was thinking..."

"Oh? I do so love your thoughts," Prospero said, his voice low and husky as he slid his palms up under her skirts to caress her outer thighs. God, she loved the feel of his powerful hands on her body. Because those hands had always treated her with care, even during the more intense moments of their bedplay.

She freed his cock from his trousers and gripped it firmly, making him groan. "We should have a walk. Perhaps a midnight dip in the sea. The moon is so bright we can practically see everything." She slowly guided his cock toward her entrance and started to ease onto him. This was a new position for her, but she liked how she felt as she took him this way. She rocked upward a little and paused with the tip of him barely inside her. He groaned, his hands on her thighs tightening.

"Swim... walk... whatever you want, darling, just don't stop."

She giggled, but his eyes turned hard with the dangerous lust she'd created in him. He gripped her hips beneath her skirts and yanked her down on him, impaling her fully in one swift thrust. She cried out in startled pleasure, her hands clutching his shoulders to hold herself steady. Her fingers curled into the fine cloth of his waistcoat, scoring the silk fabric with her nails. Yet she didn't care—she'd buy him as many new ones as he pleased.

"You... are wonderfully wicked," Prospero murmured as he buried his face in the valley of her breasts, which pressed tight against her bodice. He kissed the heaving swells as he moved his mouth up to her neck and nipped in just the right spot to make her body seize with desire. Her womb spasmed and she clenched her inner walls around his shaft.

"And you are torturing your wife," she whispered, breathless.

He chuckled against her ear before he flicked his tongue inside the delicate shell, which only made the pangs of desire stronger. Elise whimpered.

"Please... Prospero."

"I do so love to hear you beg me, wife." He bit down on the lobe of her ear. "I love it because you lose your control with me. One should never hold on to one's control with one's lover," he teased.

"Take me now," she demanded.

He laughed. "And that I love even better. Demand all of your wifely rights, and I am yours to command, darling."

She didn't have to ask again. He took her, using her body deliciously as he lifted her up and down, pounding into her, letting wave after wave of desire build inside her.

Even after the first orgasm, he continued to move her up and down, taking her hard... and it was glorious. He always knew just what to do to her body to push her beyond her limits.

"That's it, love," he breathed against her neck. "Come for me."

"I... can't," she whimpered. Her clitoris was so sensitive now, her body exhausted from the first two times she'd melted with pleasure.

"You can, darling, for me," he growled, and his hold turned almost rough as he pumped deeper into her.

Their eyes met, and her body exploded like a primed canon. Blissful sensations ripped through her with such strength that her hoarse scream ricocheted off the walls of the house. It felt so good it almost hurt. Her vision turned white, and she nearly blacked out with ecstasy. For a second she thought she was dying. And then air rushed into her lungs and she was gasping, crying, and clutching at Prospero.

"It's all right, darling," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks. "I've got you... I've got you."

Elise couldn't speak. She just held on to him, grateful for the stability of his body as she slowly came down from the moment. He patted her back and stroked a hand down her hair, whispering soft, sweet, wonderful things that her mind couldn't process as she regained her breath. Her thighs shook so hard that if she had dared to stand, she would have collapsed at once. She no longer had the strength left to move.

It should have embarrassed her, to be straddling her husband in a dining room, their bodies still bound intimately together. But he didn't seem to mind, so she couldn't find it in her to care.

She murmured his name and nuzzled her face against his neck, grateful that she could be vulnerable like this with him and yet not feel weak. How very wrong she had been, thinking those two things were one and the same.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, breathing against her temple.

"Elise."

"Hmm?"

He kissed the crown of her hair. "There is an ache inside me that shall never be soothed, never eased, lest you are in my arms. If I could but spend the rest of my life setting my very heartbeat to match your own, I would die a happy man." His words grew gruff as emotion choked him. "I love you."

Elise lifted her head and stared into his eyes. When he said it, her heart went very still and she felt an unbelievable sense of peace, as though she'd stepped through a portal where time was still and she was safe. There were no storms in the depths of his eyes, but she saw an endless spiral of blue hues, so like the sea. She trusted this man with her whole heart.

"I thought no man would ever see me, see the true me," she confessed in a whisper. "To every man before, I was some silly creature in skirts, just waiting to be married off, bedded, and bred for children. I wasn't a person, with a heart or a mind, with dreams and desires that lay beyond the domestic sphere. But to you... I..."

"To me, you are everything." He brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. "You are everything you could ever dream. Let no one tell you otherwise."

She traced his lips with a fingertip, and he caught her hand, kissing her fingertips, making her smile through fresh tears.

"I love you too," she whispered. "So much that it frightens me."

"Don't be afraid of love, darling. We are experiencing it together." He held her close, offering her the soothing comfort she so desperately needed.

A short while later, Elise regained her composure, and as she started to think about what had occurred between them, she giggles.

Prospero held her still, their bodies still joined. "What is it?"

"I was thinking I should write a pamphlet for women about sex. About how orgasms can feel different. It seems no experience is quite the same."

"An interesting hypothesis, little naturalist. But I believe vigorous testing will be required in order to support your theory." He gave her bottom a light pinch. She clenched around his cock instinctively, making him moan. "Lord, I love it when you do that."

She leaned forward, twining her arms around his neck. She brushed her lips over his, teasing him.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, her mind returning to the question she'd first asked him when they'd begun to make love.

"About different orgasms and researching them? Yes, I say. Emphatically yes, and I shall be your partner in this matter of research."

She chuckled and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, my mind was wandering. I meant about the moonlight walk and swim. No one goes to the beach in the evenings, and the currents aren't very strong. It would be romantic."

"Are you turning romantic on me?" he teased. "If so, I shan't complain."

"Perhaps I am. Would you care to come with me and find out?" She pressed another kiss to his lips and then slid off his lap. "I will have Mary change me out of this dress and meet you at the beach in, say, fifteen minutes?"

"I will have the cook prepare a basket for us with some wine and a few of those delicious blackberry tarts she made today. We can eat them after we've had enough swimming." He gave her such a heated look she knew he wasn't talking about swimming.

"Don't forget to bring a blanket or two," she said before she rushed upstairs to change.

With Mary's help, she changed out of her gown and into her trousers and blouse. She bid good night to her maid and told Mary not to wait up. Mary simply chuckled, blew out the lamps, and retired for the night.

The full moon was so bright, Elise had no difficulty in following the gravel path that led to the beach next to the cliffs of Culver Down. She watched Prospero standing near the shore, facing the sea, a basket and rolled up blanket at his feet. He could be so quiet, so contemplative, and she sometimes wondered how much he dwelled on the past, of what might have been had it not been for that duel. She wanted to show him that the only way through the darkness he felt from his past was to push forward into the future. Someday, when her father was gone, Prospero was all she would have, and she wanted to be there for him the way he was for her in her darkest moments.

Smiling, she continued down the hill toward him. A flash of movement caught her eye. She turned to see a man strolling in the dark, swinging a cane as he whistled softly. His gray beard was almost silver in the moonlight, and his spectacles winked in white reflected flashes. He nodded politely at her as he took care to make his way along the gravel path that ran parallel to the shore.

She wasn't surprised to see someone walking here, but she had hoped the night would turn away even the most determined walkers so she and Prospero could enjoy some privacy, but alas, that was not to be.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?" she said to the older gentleman as he drew near on the path. She would wait for him to pass by and out of sight before she and Prospero started removing any clothing.

"It is indeed," the man replied with a smile.

She turned back toward Prospero, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of him. He cut a handsome figure, silhouetted by the pale light and the shining, twilight sea.

And he's mine. The thought filled her stomach with butterflies.

A moment later, that feeling changed to one of warning, one that came an instant too late as something swung toward her head.

* * *

The sound of a scream. Up the hill from the beach, Prospero caught sight of two men struggling... no, a man and Elise. They broke apart. The man swung something—a cane—and Elise fell to the ground.

Prospero's heart leapt into his throat as he sprinted up the sandy slope toward the gravel path. But he'd already lost precious seconds as the man who had struck Elise now lifted her up in his arms and carried her over his shoulder toward the cliffs. The man had a head start on him and was much closer to the cliffs than the beach. Terror dug its claws into Prospero's chest.

He was going to throw Elise off the cliffs…but why? There was no time to ask that question, only the urgent need to stop him. What if he couldn't reach them in time? What if he couldn't stop the man from throwing her over the edge?

"Stop!" Prospero bellowed as he raced to close the distance between them. The man threw Elise's body to the ground twenty feet from the edge of the cliffs. Prospero lunged for Elise, but the man swung a cane at him, one that had a sharp-edged silver hooked handle.

Prospero lurched back a step, dodging what would have been a shattering blow, then lunged forward at the opening now provided. Prospero reached up to claw at the man's face, peeling away the false beard that had been stuck to his skin, and the spectacles he wore slipped free of his face. The figure, which had seemed oddly familiar, was now instantly recognizable.

"You!" Prospero growled as he was pushed back.

Adam Jackson smacked the cane's handle into his palm, ready for another attack. Prospero held himself back, disturbed at the unsettling look of satisfaction upon the man's face.

"We meet again, March," he said smugly. "It was almost too easy to find you."

"We weren't trying to hide." Prospero's tone was entirely ice. "We didn't think a madman would follow us here."

He glanced at Elise, but she still lay unmoving. A killing rage he'd never felt in his life now surged through every fiber of his being. Jackson had hurt Elise. Prospero would tear this man into pieces and cast him into the sea.

Adam laughed. "Madness? You call justice madness? You seduced my sister, killed my brother, and left my name in ruins. This is just the beginning of your suffering, March."

Adam sneered. It was the only warning Prospero had before Adam tossed his cane aside and pulled a revolver that had been hidden in his waistcoat. He aimed it square at Prospero's chest.

Prospero held still, afraid to make any movement that would force Adam to fire. Christ, he'd never imagined this would be the consequence of protecting his damnable pride all those years ago. If only he'd walked away when Aaron had thrown his glove down and demanded satisfaction...

Prospero stared at the gun, feeling that primal fear of knowing that he could die in a single instant. But he had so much more to lose this time.

His gaze turned to Elise. She lay unmoving upon the ground, a trickle of blood at her temple, but he was sure that she was breathing.

Focus, he reminded himself. The man is a viper, and you cannot afford to be bitten.

Distract and delay. That was what he needed to do until he could find a position that would give him the upper hand, if one even existed.

"You're mad, Jackson. You just attacked my wife and me. Do you think the law will take your side?"

"They won't have to, not when they discover the grisly scene of your deaths. How will the papers report it, I wonder? Lord March kills his new bride on their honeymoon in a fit of rage, then ends his own life in shame? Yes, that has a lovely sound to it." The wild gleam in Jackson's eyes made Prospero's stomach clench in dread.

So that was Jackson's plan? Kill them both? This man was beyond mad. Prospero had never imagined someone could be filled with such a black heart.

"You think anyone will believe that I would kill my wife?" he challenged, still hoping to buy some time. "I've proven myself to be a man of control since the day your brother died. No one would think I would do such a thing. Besides, killing her so quickly after our wedding wouldn't make any sense. Too many witnesses have seen us affectionately enjoying our honeymoon to believe your lies."

He hoped that might set the cogs and wheels in the man's mind turning, if only for a moment, to give Prospero a chance to lunge for him.

"Oh, they will believe me," Adam said with the confidence of a lunatic. "Everyone knows that a woman like that would drive any man to murder." Jackson waved his free hand toward Elise. "Bloody bitch acts as if she has a brain, but she's nothing more than a tart in a skirt, like all the rest."

Prospero's fists clenched, but he had to keep the man talking. "What about me? Your sister chose me as a safe harbor to push her wiles upon, but I never seduced her. Your family began this pack of lies that has driven us to this moment. I'm offering you one last chance. Walk away from here. Leave now, and tonight's events will be forgotten."

"The only lies here have come from your mouth, dog," Adam snarled and raised the revolver, a bright look in his wild eyes.

Prospero dove at the other man just as he fired the gun. A desperate move, but the only one left to him. A blinding pain tore through Prospero's shoulder. Under any other circumstance he would have stumbled, but the rage inside him kept him on his feet.

Stop Jackson. Save Elise. The words repeated over and over in his mind. He dove for Adam just as the man pulled back the hammer on his revolver.

They collided, hitting the ground hard, causing his next shot to go wild. Prospero landed on top of Jackson and struck him hard in the jaw. Jackson grunted and countered with a blow to Prospero's ribs. Jackson snarled like a wild animal. The cold fire of bloodlust burned deep in the pits of the man's eyes.

Prospero landed another blow on Jackson's temple, but the man didn't go down. Jackson kicked, knocking Prospero back. Both of them scrambled back to their feet.

Blood ran down Prospero's arm, but he gritted his teeth and raised his hands, ready to continue the fight. With a brutal grin, Jackson lunged at him, attacking with a flurry of hard blows. Prospero grasped Adam's neck and kneed him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind from him, but the pain in his shoulder prevented him from keeping his grip. Prospero felt the breeze at his back growing stronger, and he realized that his foe was inching him toward the Culver Down cliffs.

"This is the end, March." Jackson's face split in a triumphant grin as he shoved Prospero's wounded shoulder hard. Prospero retreated a step to avoid being struck again. His back foot slid off the grassy edge and fell into empty air. A sudden pitch formed in his belly as he lost his balance. He clawed at Jackson's shirt, but the other man was just out of reach.

Prospero fell, seeing only the pale gleam of moonlight in the other man's dark eyes, the way his lips curled up in a snarl. In the distance was Elise's prone body, so far out of his reach.

His life had become something worth fighting for because of Elise, and now he wouldn't be there to save her. The vow he'd made to her, to protect her, would be broken.

This was the end.

"Prospero!"

Elise's cry sounded so far off as he stared up at the cloudless sky filled with stars. He had but one image in his mind and his heart as he fell: Elise, smiling up at him after having given him the kiss that had changed his life.

Then his body collided with the rocks below, bringing an end to his pain... to everything.