Part VIII: A New Year’s Resolution
Chapter Ten
It was the third night of the year and Twelfth Night was approaching with rapid steps, Anne thought sleepily. Was it already dawn?
She felt pleasantly warm, as if her lover had never left to go to his own bed and had instead stayed to spend the whole night with her. It took her a few dazed seconds to realize that he indeed was holding her in his arms, snuggling against her, his broad chest firmly pressed against her back, a very distinct arousal prodding her from behind.
He’d stayed! she thought with something akin to elation, but then chastised herself. He should not have. They had been imprudent enough as it was.
She decided to wake him up, and half rose to do so, but suddenly felt his hands grabbing her hips from behind. He pressed his aroused manhood against her skin and she deliciously realized that they were both still naked.
He did not speak and at first she felt rather vexed that he did not. He behaved as if she simply expected her to comply with his desires. She opened her mouth to remonstrate, but discovered that she could not rebuke him.
“Do you object?” he eventually murmured, his voice soft and warm.
“Should I?” she countered lazily, knowing she would not be able to refuse such hard warmth from penetrating her.
She already felt a delicious tingling in her nether parts. Soon, he would have her on her back and would bury himself deeply inside her, placing her ankles on his shoulders. She savoured the anticipation of this moment.
She was surprised however, when she felt him tentatively brush her sex, only to firmly position himself and thrust into her from behind. She had not thought this position was really possible. She gasped at the intrusion, then blissfully realised that, from behind, she could feel him very keenly. His left hand was tantalizingly stroking her nipple and his hardness pressed deeply within her own flesh. She was already on fire, she realized, beginning to moan wantonly as a molten fire sensation took hold of her. She revelled in the way in which her sun god was unceremoniously claiming her. She revelled in the deep thrusts that were conquering her whole being. As he withdrew from her, she savoured a wistful sensation that came unbidden – she would have loved to feel his hot sticky essence warming her sex.
A feeling of enormous sadness engulfed her, as if it was somehow utterly wrong that he had not spilled his seed inside her. She took a deep painful breath, telling herself that this was how it should be. They would soon part ways, and the touch of him would become just a golden, treasured memory.
Through narrowed eyes she watched him clean himself, then rejoin her on the bed, which bore the signs of their lovemaking. He snuggled against her, fully prepared to go back to sleep. The light outside the window shone grey, and Anne realised morning was already upon them.
“It’s dawn!” she told him in some vexation, knowing that it was high time for him to leave, and hoping that the servants hadn’t roused yet.
He did not answer her, just pressing his head against her naked shoulder, and embracing her from behind. The position felt so right and so good, that Anne felt like weeping.
“Shouldn’t you go back to your own bed?” she asked sullenly, hating both him and herself.
It was unfair. Unfair that they had so little left of touching and being with one another. But things were what they were.
As he didn’t show any inclination to leave her bed, she heaved a sigh of regret, disengaging herself from his embrace. She turned to face him, but found herself promptly scooped in yet another possessive embrace.
“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, and his breath was ticklish against her face.
She was now lying on one side, fully facing him, with her breasts crushed against his broad chest. His arm was encircling her, while the palm of his big hand lay nonchalantly on her behind.
“I shall not go back to sleep, and neither should you!” she said, refusing to succumb to the treacherous lassitude that was descending upon her.
He sighed, opening just one of his grey eyes to look at her.
“Fine…We shall not sleep, if that is what you wish…”
His wide palm began to stroke her buttocks, in a feather-light caress.
“What are you doing?” she asked, already feeling her mouth go dry with want.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he countered softly.
She could already feel a rekindled arousal pressing against her belly.
“We should not…” she muttered unconvincingly.
“Why not?”
He was now nuzzling her neck, apparently unconcerned that it was already dawn. Some of the servants must be already up, Anne thought in vexation, knowing that what they were doing was beyond imprudent.
“We should not!” she repeated, in firm tones this time.
“Oh, yes we should. And, make no mistake, we will…and this time I fully intend to fill you with my seed…”
There was something so very primal in his tone. Something entirely male and possessive. And Anne almost smiled. Almost. Because she soon recalled herself, and pushed him away, sitting up.
“You’re the one who taught me we should be careful. And now you’re being careless, as if you’ve taken leave of your senses!” she told him, in truth still unused to reproach him for anything, but vexed that he did not seem able to control himself.
His hair was adorably tousled, just as it always was after lovemaking, and she resisted the urge of setting those fair strands to rights.
She narrowed her eyes at him, as she saw him carelessly shrug. His next gesture utterly shocked her, as he drew closer to her to place a hand on her lower abdomen.
“Wouldn’t you want to bear my child?” he asked her and, again, his voice took a possessive note.
She chastised herself, because she’d half-opened her mouth to say yes. Because she’d almost let herself caught in this cruel game he was playing.
“Another daughter…” he went on unperturbed, stroking her belly. “What shall we name her? Do you think Laurel would be a fitting name? Or would you prefer Daphne?”
She felt scorching anger rise inside her. He’d never mocked her before, but he was certainly doing it now.
“Please, leave,” she told him coldly, realising that it was the first time she was dismissing a duke.
He had the audacity to yawn.
“It’s barely dawn,” he told her. “And I feel utterly lazy. Since you seem intent on rebuffing my advances, it’s best I went back to sleep. And so should you. You’ve plenty of time to think on child names after you’ve had your rest.”
She was dumbfounded.
“Why are you behaving like this?” she asked him.
“Like what?” he asked innocently.
“You know too well,” she told him in exasperation.
Yet again, he shrugged.
“I’m behaving precisely as I should under the circumstances,” he told her.
She stared at him.
“Since I’ve already decided that you would stay, I see no reason we shouldn’t be thinking of a child,” he said with a smile on his face.
She had probably taken leave of her senses. This was definitely not Henry. And neither was he His Grace. This was a different man who was speaking in riddles.
“So, you’ve decided that I would stay…Really?” she asked him in obvious displeasure.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Your Grace,” she told him, pointedly emphasising his title. “But, as you know too well, I’ve already decided I shall leave.”
He waved his hand.
“But that was before…” he told her.
“Before what?” she asked, again feeling decidedly puzzled.
“Before I decided that you should marry me.”
She felt her right hand itch and made the superhuman effort not to slap him. He was obviously mocking her. Either that, or he’d completely taken leave of his senses.
“Get out!” she told him, deciding to throw him out of her room instantly, even if he was still naked.
It might be his house, but this was still her room. A room whose privacy she’d earned.
It was then that he kissed her. As hard and as hungrily as he’d done that first time, under the mistletoe. So hard that it made her dizzy.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked him breathlessly, breaking the kiss and still struggling to get a grip on herself.
“Marry me,” he told her simply, and she finally saw that his eyes were intense and completely earnest.
She buried her face in her hands.
“You know I can’t,” she whispered.
“Why ever not?”
“You know too well,” she told him, this time severely.
“No. I do not know,” he told her, and it seemed there suddenly was seething anger in his voice.
She’d never seen him quite that angry.
“Is it because this hasn’t meant anything to you? Is it because you think you can just be bedded by me and then simply walk away? Just as you did with that officer?”
The unjustness of his accusation stung her.
“You know too well you are nothing like him,” she told him tiredly.
“No, I don’t know. You tell me,” he countered.
She sighed, helpless. He was asking her to tell him about her feelings for him. He was asking for the truth. She feared that, were she to tell him the truth, he might never let her go. And it was best for both of them that she should go.
Still, Anne had never lied to herself. Nor to others. She was not going to start now.
“Hugo Peversham meant nothing to me. Nothing but lust. You…. Yes, I have lusted for you ever since I first set eyes on you. For years I’ve dreamt about being held by you. But I’ve not only lusted for you…I…I’ve truly wanted all of you for myself. I’ve been burning for all of you. Every inch and corner and whisper of that which is you,” she told him.
She saw him take a deep breath, as if he were relieved.
“But you can have all of me,” he finally told her.
She shook her head.
“It cannot be!”
“But this is my gift to you. Just as you’ve already given yourself to me, I give myself to you,” he said in calm tones.
“You’ve taken leave of your senses,” she told him bitterly.
“No. I love you,” he told her just as calmly as before, as if this was the natural thing to say.
She could not believe it. She gazed into his eyes, attempting to tell him that he was wrong. She was just the governess. Just a tryst for Christmas. But when she saw the look in his eyes, she realized that it was not so. It was a look that she knew too well. Almost the same look that he had when he gazed upon his daughters. Almost the same, but not quite the same. His eyes were warm and fond when he gazed upon his children. She now saw in his eyes, besides fondness and warmth, something burning and predatory.
“You see, I won’t let you get away from me. I’ll just imprison you in a laurel tree if you try to run from me,” he told her in serious tones.
And she found herself believing that he could do just that. Her heart started thumping wildly.
“But what about Georgie and Jane? They would not wish to have a governess for their step mother…” she told him, already understanding that she was losing ground.
“They love you. They will be happy for us,” he told her confidently.
She shook her head.
“But don’t you understand? The shame! The scandal! And everybody will say I’ve married you for your title and wealth. Think of the disparity of our positions! A governess and a duke…”
He looked unconcerned.
“I am a duke after all. I can afford not to care about what other people would say. And I know for a fact that you’re not marrying me for petty reasons.”
“I’m not marrying you! I’d rather be your kept mistress!” she told him seriously.
“I’m afraid that offer is no longer on the table,” he retorted with a grin.
She was beginning to feel both exhausted and defeated.
“But what about Georgie and Jane?” she repeated.
At the exact moment this conversation was taking place, the two young ladies in question were seated in a carriage that was steadily approaching their esteemed father’s residence.
“I cannot believe you talked me into returning two days earlier. And without a chaperone. Papa is going to be livid,” Jane muttered, narrowing her eyes at her twin sister.
The twin sister in question simply grinned impudently.
“Yes, but think upon it, we could really catch them in flagrante.”
Jane harrumphed.
“Neither of them is actually married. So it technically isn’t a flagrante delicto situation,” she pointed out.
Her sister did not seem to pay her any mind.
“Do you think they’re kissing right now?” she asked, lost in some kind of reverie.
“You really are disgusting,” Jane told her.
“Oh, please…It was your idea to go away for Christmas after all,” Georgie pointed out.
“Yes, it was. But it might not even have worked.”
“I think it did.”
“How can you be sure? For eight years they’ve just been sighing and simpering and just adoring each other from a distance…What makes you think they decided to act on it now? She might have gone to visit her relatives after all. And he might be alone.”
Georgie shook her head.
“Impossible. Auspiciously, there was a blizzard. He wouldn’t have let her go in that blizzard.”
Jane bit her lower lip.
“Let’s hope you’re right. Still, it was worth a try.”
Georgie however was completely confident.
“Do you think he’s proposing to her right now?” she asked.
Jane sighed again.
“Even if he were, she might not want to marry him.”
“Why ever not? She is completely besotted with him. Have you seen how she can’t meet his eyes whenever he walks into the room?”
Jane nodded.
“Yes, of course. But that doesn’t solve the problem. She thinks he’s too far above her.”
Georgie made a face.
“Nonsense. Of course he’s not. He’s just Papa. And they are perfect for each other.”
“Yes, they are,” Jane agreed. “Let’s hope they had enough sense to put each other out of their misery.”
“Sense has nothing to do with it,” Georgie corrected her. “It’s just an overpowering animal feeling.”
Jane rolled her eyes.
“No. It’s a consonance of the minds. An elective affinity.”
Georgie burst out laughing.
“Elective affinity, my foot! I bet they’re kissing right now.”
And, as both sisters were going to finally find out when they got home, this time, Georgie was not far from the truth.
THE END
If you enjoyed this novella, you can sign up for my Newsletter to receive a free late medieval novella set in Wallachia, in the time of Vlad the Impaler (No worries, Vlad is just a minor character and NOT the romance hero in the story….). BTW, you can also take a look at A Deep Dark Call – my historical romance published with Carina Press (Harlequin). It has both Christmas and New Year in it and it is set in the snowy hills of Romania. The setting might be snowy and cold, but this book is quite steamy….
