Chapter Thirteen

T he motion of the carriage was soothing, but the fear that somehow Hudson would escape, discover where they were headed, and stop their coach before they arrived at Alec's estate did not let go of Kit's heart until after they stopped to change horses the second time and enjoyed a meal at the inn.

Stomach full, heart lighter from her husband's insistence that Reeves join them, she finally relaxed. The sound of Alec's rumbling baritone tugged at her. She scooted closer to him. Unable to resist the pull between them, Kit leaned her head against his broad chest, comforted by his scent, his strength…and the vibration beneath her cheek as he carried on a conversation with Reeves…and she fell asleep.

"Her ladyship stayed awake longer than I thought she would have."

"I would have thought she'd fall asleep after the first few miles," Quinton murmured. "Reeves?"

"Aye, sir?"

"Do you remember when that French ship's guns hit the middle gun deck?"

Reeves nodded. "I'm not likely to forget when the thirty-two-pounders broke loose."

"I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to continue commanding you and the others while the battle raged. I was responsible for you men. It was my job…my life."

"Mine as well, lieutenant."

"The barrel of Hudson's pistol pressed to Kit's temple eclipsed the terror I felt that day. The thought of losing her is unacceptable."

"Lord willing, you'll never be in that situation again. You have the rest of your life ahead of you."

Kit snuggled closer to Quinton but did not waken, and he tightened his arm around her. "Aye, Reeves. I intend to make the most of every bit of it. Do you think she'll be able to stomach the sight of me?"

His valet understood what he had not said. "Countess Stansbury? The woman who kissed my ugly mug…beneath my eye patch?"

"Aye, surprised us both."

"She certainly did. I have no doubt that she will lead you on a merry chase for the rest of your days, lieutenant."

A few hours later, they stopped to change horses for the last hour and a half of their journey. Eventually, the coach turned down a long drive that wound through a lovely wooded area. "Take a glance out of the window, love, at Quinton's Folly."

Kit pulled back the curtain and blew out a breath. "I cannot see much in the dark, but I can see the torches by the front of your home."

"I'll have to take you on a tour first thing in the morning."

"After introducing me to the horses in your stables?"

"Aye, love. Would you prefer riding before or after breakfast?"

"Why not before and after?"

Quinton and Reeves smiled at her enthusiasm.

"I haven't had the pleasure of riding in the country in quite some time. I plan to make the most of it now that we have arrived."

Richards greeted them and introduced Kit to the staff lined up to meet her. Once again, she did not act as Quinton anticipated. She grasped each person's hand as she was introduced to them, personally greeting them. "I wish I could say that I will remember everyone's name, but it may take me a day or two to remember everyone." She bit her bottom lip and confessed, "You may as well know ahead of time that I shall be spending most of my time in the stables and will know the stable master and stable lads' names before the rest of yours. I apologize ahead of time, but thought it best that you know."

After his staff's initial surprise, one of the footmen chuckled, a maid giggled, and Quinton knew his wife would be welcomed without question.

After the hustle and bustle of carrying Kit's trunks upstairs—his mother-in-law had informed him she would send the rest of her daughter's things the following day—they retired after sharing a light supper.

He noticed his wife seemed distracted and on edge, and he wondered if she was worried about sealing their vows…or seeing him unclothed. Mayhap both.

Unsure of how to put the question to her, he led her to the door of their bedchamber at the end of the long hallway and opened the door. "Would you help me unfasten the knot in my sling?"

"Don't you want to wait until we go inside?"

"I'd appreciate your help now, please?"

"Very well." She untied the knot and let out a yelp when Quinton scooped her into his arms and carried her across the threshold. "You aren't supposed to exert yourself, Alec."

"You are as light as thistledown, love."

She snorted with laughter. "I highly doubt that."

He set her on her feet by the ornately carved four-poster bed, across from the deep green velvet and mahogany fainting couch nestled beneath one of the windows.

Quinton turned back to her and could not help but stare as Kit—his countess—stood watching him…waiting for him. He took a step, and she met him halfway, slipping her arms around his waist. "I have been waiting to do this ever since the vicar married us and you kissed me. Would you kiss me again, Alec?"

He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly, increasing the intensity as her lips warmed to his touch. Her taste intoxicated him, igniting the passion he had held in check since that morning when Hudson had been defeated, and Quinton held her in his arms. The need to make love to her grew stronger with every whisper-soft moan and press of her lips to his.

Unable to wait much longer to feel every inch of her body pressed against him, he rasped, "Kit, may I help you undress?"

She nodded and turned her back to him.

His fingers fumbled with the first button, but he managed to undo the other three. "Would you like help pulling it over your head?" This time she hesitated, and he explained, "I do not want you to trip on the hem, love."

"All right, but I think I should remove my half boots first…if you do not mind."

"Not at all." He waited while she removed her boots, then helped her out of her dress and had to clamp down hard on his overwhelming need to touch, to taste her, knowing she was not ready for him. When her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, he tapped her chin with his knuckle and tilted her head back, needing to see the expression in her eyes when he asked, "May I help you with your chemise?"

Impossibly, her blush intensified. "I…erm…thought to keep it on."

"Did you, love?"

"It is a bit chilly tonight, is it not?"

He bit his tongue to keep from laughing. His wife was a delight. So fierce in her defense of him, yet so shy when they were about to come together on the bed that waited for them, the covers turned down to invite them to rest after their long journey…or in his case, show his bride the physical side of love.

"Let me help you remove your shirt. I do not want you to injure your shoulder further."

Quinton stared at the beauty waiting expectantly for him to capitulate. He decided to allow her to take control…for a little while. "I could use your help."

Between the two of them, they removed his shirt after he realized the height difference was what she was struggling with. When he stood shirtless before her, he realized his bride was frozen in place, staring at his chest.

"I forgot about the scars, though there are only a handful."

She reached out a trembling hand, hesitated, then asked, "May I touch you, Alec?"

"Aye, love."

Kit carefully placed her hand over his heart, closed her eyes, and sighed. "Your skin is so warm." Her eyes shot open. "And your heart just started to pound."

"In anticipation, Kit."

"Oh?"

"I have much to show you, but I'm not sure how much longer I can hold back the need to make you mine."

She blushed again, and this time, he noticed the flush dipped below the low scoop of her chemise where the sweet curve of her breasts tempted him to caress.

"May I touch you, Kit?"

She bit her lip, but nodded.

He skimmed the tip of his finger along her collarbone, dipped into the hollow at the base of her throat, then traced the line of her jaw, the shell of her ear. "You are so lovely, Kit."

She leaned toward him, and he slid an arm around her back, easing her closer. "You are so hot," she said.

"You have no idea." He slid his hand to the base of her spine and pressed her against him. Her sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation he needed that she felt the part of him that ached, throbbed, to be inside of her. "Do not be afraid, love. I won't rush you or hurt you."

"I was told the first time would be painful," she whispered against his throat.

"Only if the man does not take his time to ready his bride to accept him."

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Aye, you could let me help you remove your chemise."

"What about my stockings and garters?"

"No, leave them on." The thought of making love to her while she was naked except for her stocking and garters added to the conflagration of his need for her.

Her alabaster beauty awed him. Her curves were generous… Had he thought her willowy and slender? He reached for her, then hesitated. "Kit, I have got to touch you." She nodded, and he swept his hands from her shoulders to her wrists and back again while she leaned toward him again. "If you want me to stop—at any time—you need to tell me."

He let his hands linger on her shoulders again, then slowly skimmed them over her shoulder blades and the top of her back. Kit shivered, but she did not tell him to stop. Encouraged by her innocent curiosity, he whispered, "Touch me, love."

"Where?"

"Anywhere…everywhere."

She mimicked his touch, sliding her hands up and over his shoulders, mindful of his injury. While he smoothed his hands up and down her back and her side, she continued to do the same to him. When he placed his hand to the middle of her back and pulled her flush against him, the fullness of her breasts had him groaning in pleasure.

She jerked back from him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Nay, you did something right."

"Oh." She ducked her head, but not before he saw her triumphant smile. His bride was enjoying this lesson as much as he was. When she nestled closer this time, he felt the heat of her through the placket of his trousers.

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes…please, Alec."

He bent his head and captured her lips, toying with them until she took matters into her own hands and rubbed against him, moaning at the feel of the crisp hairs of his chest against her breasts. He broke the kiss and began to nibble on her neck, her collarbone, and her chin.

When he paused, she felt empty, wanting, needing more of his kisses. Instead of asking, she nibbled on his neck, his collarbone, but she could not quite reach his chin, so she nibbled her way to his pectorals. He was wonderfully muscled, as beautiful with his shirt off as he was wearing it.

When she told him so, his rumbling laughter added to the tension coiling inside of her, while his question had her breath stalling in her lungs. "May I kiss your pectorals?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Mine are not as muscular as yours."

His muffled laughter was the only warning she had before he took her breast in his mouth, teasing her nipple with his tongue, until he drew back and began tormenting her with kisses interspersed with nibbles and licks, finally drawing her breast into his mouth again while his hands worked their magic on her other.

When she felt as if she could not stand another moment of his torture, he switched and began his sensuous torment of her other breast, his hands on the sensitized nipples sending her into a spiral of sensations that pulsed, deep inside her, then she wept with her passion and need for this man.

"Alec, please do something! I don't know what is happening. How do I stop it?"

"Ah, love, there is only one way," he rasped. "Trust me."

She couldn't stand the pressure and unfamiliar tugging and pulsing rippling through her. "I trust you."

He sucked her breast into his mouth and slid his hand between them, covered her woman's core with his large, callused hand, and pressed against her.

"Alec?"

He released her breast long enough to say, "Let go, love—I'll protect you." He suckled her other breast and dipped the tip of his finger inside of her, and she exploded, bucking against him until she screamed his name and shattered in his arms.

She felt herself being lifted, but could do no more than whisper his name over and over.

"I've got you, love."

He tucked her into bed, pressed his lips to her forehead, and walked through the connecting door to his room.

Kit drifted off waiting for him to return. She turned in her sleep and reached for Alec, but he wasn't there. For the life of her, she didn't remember much after he'd touched her so intimately, and she'd come apart in his arms. She pushed the tangle of hair out of her eyes and looked around their room. Where was her husband?

She slipped out of bed, picked her chemise up off the floor and tugged it over her head, and that was when she noticed the shaft of light coming from beneath the door she had thought was a closet. It must be a connecting door. Had he retreated to their dressing room to sleep? Why would he do that? Had she done something wrong? If she had, it was because she didn't know much of anything about making love.

Needing to know the answer, she opened the door and stopped in her tracks. This room was larger and markedly more masculine than the one she had fallen asleep in. Was this what he intended when he said a marriage in name only? Separate rooms and separate beds?

She tiptoed close to the bed, marveling at the width and sheer size of her husband. Even without a stitch of clothing on him, he looked huge. Her toe brushed against something smooth and cool. Kit glanced down and saw his wooden leg. The device it was attached to was remarkable in design, and she knew without a doubt that it was equally remarkable in function, having watched her husband moving about as if he had two legs.

He groaned in his sleep, and she studied him. He tensed as if he were on a medieval torture device. When his back lifted off the bed, the linen slipped below his waist, revealing a sight she had not been prepared for. The sheer size of him had her doubting they would ever be able to consummate their marriage. He wouldn't fit.

While she wondered if every woman had the same problem, she noticed his injured leg was equally as muscled as the other one, but ended above the knee. The sheet below it rested on the mattress, while the shape of his knee, his calf, and the foot of his other leg was discernible beneath the sheet.

Was this the reason he'd left her alone? Was he worried about her reaction to seeing his leg? Kit could not believe he did not trust her by revealing all of him as she had bared herself for him. Her breasts were too large, her bottom too small, and her hair… Well, naught could be done about the color of it. She'd secretly wished all of her life that she would wake up one day with a glorious head of auburn hair like her father…like her Alec.

She spun around and was about to leave when she changed her mind. He was her husband, and if he had the right to touch and caress every part of her, then bloody hell, she had the right to caress and touch him everywhere too.

Kit walked over to the bed and knelt beside it. With a whisper-soft touch, she swept her fingers from his neck to the edge of the sheet and back again. When the sheet lifted, she was momentarily stunned. When that part of him stilled, she repeated the touch, marveling that the sheet lifted again. She had learned something important, but she had other plans in mind for the man who had lovingly set free the passion she had not known existed inside her.

He was frowning in his sleep. She checked the bandage wrapped around his upper arm, relieved there was no blood, and next compared his shoulders. The injured one was only a bit swollen, definitely on the mend.

He murmured in his sleep and turned onto his side, taking the sheet with him, baring his buttocks…and his abbreviated leg. She'd had no idea what to expect, but the muscled thigh attached to his equally muscled backside was definitely more than she had imagined. He was beautiful. His leg was not something to be ashamed of—it was powerful, and she knew from the way he moved about that he had grown accustomed to using it. In the morning, she'd ask if he would show her how to put his prosthesis on.

But for right now, she wanted to caress his thigh. Mayhap she could heal that part of him with her lips. With kisses as soft as the brush of a faery's wings, she pressed her lips to his muscled thigh, from where it joined at the hip to where it abruptly ended. His skin heated beneath her touch, and she let her fingers roam, skimming his backside, caressing his thigh from top to bottom and back again.

Her lips were pressed against the bottom of his thigh when she felt him moving. Unsure if he would be angry with her, she boldly reached out and stroked his shaft, thinking to distract him. He groaned in response. She touched him again, and he lifted his hips. Needing to touch him as intimately as he had touched her, she slipped her hand beneath the sheet and wrapped it around the fullness of his shaft, all the while nibbling and kissing his thigh. With every brush of her lips, she whispered a healing prayer. With each nibble, she praised his strength, his beauty, his loving heart.

"Kit," he groaned. "Stop."

She lifted her head and looked into his slumberous gray eyes. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Nay, love, but I refuse to release my seed on the bed linens."

It dawned on her what he had not asked, but hinted at. She released her hold on him, but only long enough to take her chemise off and climb onto his bed. He surprised her by clamping a hand to her bottom and rolling until she was beneath him. He murmured her name and took her breast into the heat of his mouth. This time his hand briefly caressed her other breast before he slid it down between her legs, probing and stretching her as he suckled one breast and then the other.

When she cried out his name, he slid inside of her slowly, carefully, and then paused. She felt the fullness of him, amazed that he had fit.

"I promise it will not hurt for long."

"I trust you, Alec."

He captured her lips in a mind-bending kiss and thrust deep inside of her.

It did hurt, but gradually eased as he continued to kiss her and caress the sides of her breasts as he slid his hands to her waist and up again. The urge to move had her lifting her hips in a silent message that she was ready for more.

Her husband obliged, thrusting into her over and over until she felt the same tension building again. This time his thrusts had her splintering apart, while the muscles of her passage clenched around him. He thrust deep one last time, groaned, and released his life-giving seed inside of her.

He kissed her deeply, tucked her tight against him, and rolled over until she was lying on top of him. "What possessed you to kiss my stump?"

"What possessed you to leave me alone in bed?"

His frown deepened. "Why did you kiss my stump?"

She frowned back. "I did not notice any tree stump in your room with your name on it."

He snorted, then became serious once more. "Why did you kiss what is left of my leg?"

"Because I wanted to taste your skin, test the strength of your muscled thigh. By the by, you are delicious."

"God, Kit!" He pulled her flush against him and held on tight. When he started trembling, she found his lips and kissed him, pouring everything she felt for him into it. The first tear caught her by surprise. Those that followed had her rolling onto her side and cradling his head to her breast, while he purged the pain of holding on to the fear that he was unlovable because of his injury. When he quieted, she pressed her lips to his forehead and whispered, "I love you, Alec…all of you."

He tucked her close and rolled until she was beneath him once more. "I love you, Kit…all of you."

"I have a favor to ask."

He rose to brace himself on his elbows. "What do you need, love?"

"I need to kiss the rest of you to discover if you taste the same…all over."

He groaned. "You're an angel and the answer to my prayers, Kit, my love. Where would you like to start?"

In answer, she reached between them and wrapped her hand around his shaft.

When he groaned, she nudged him. "Can I kiss you now?"

He was laughing when he rolled onto his back, but his laughter faded as her innocent exploration stole his breath and the rest of his heart.

Later, as they lay exhausted, tangled together, he whispered, "I never imagined I would find someone who could ever love a man like me, Kit. The Lord truly blessed me the day you walked into the mystère masque and grabbed hold of my heart. I never thought to feel whole again, but you gave me back the part of my soul I left behind at Trafalgar."

"I never thought to find someone as horse crazy as me, someone who would overlook the talents I do not have."

"Ah, love, your gift of giving yourself fully to the ones you love is your greatest talent."

Her eyes welled with tears as she held his words to her heart. "I love you, Alec,"

"Thank God!" She poked him in the ribs, and he snorted with laughter. "I love you, Kit."

When she snuggled close, he asked, "Care to have another taste of me?"

Their laughter echoed down the hallway and drifted down the stairs until it filled Quintin's Folly with light and love. A love that cleansed the sorrow that had hung on too long.

A love that would last forever.