Capturing The Earl’s Love Part Twelve ~ A Historical Romance Story

A #free short story… I’ll be telling it here, and it can also now be downloaded from Amazon.

Capturing the Earl’s Love

A Historical Romance story

Part Three

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Meredith felt as though they had just run across a bridge into each other’s arms, as though they were not distant anymore. He had smiled at her, and looked at her, and she was now truly his wife. It had been painful at first, but after that it had been wonderful.

“Lord Morton,” she whispered.

His body immediately stiffened and he lifted off of her.

She didn’t like losing him. She wanted to hold on to him and never let him go.

“Here.” He lifted a corner of the crumpled covers, obviously implying she should slip beneath.

When she had, he bent, picked up her nightgown and then handed it to her.

Her fingers shook when she took it.

“Thank you,” he said, before bending to retrieve his dressing gown. Then he turned away, putting it on as he did so, and afterward, he walked about the room and blew the candles out, all except for the last, which he picked up, and took with him as he left the room. She did not know what to think.

Had she done something to displease him?

Rupert sat at the breakfast table, scanning the papers. Rowena was with him; she was reading a letter which had just been delivered. There were another three dozen white roses in the hall.

He turned the page of the paper. His announcement was there, small and almost hidden. The Earl of Morton wed Miss Meredith Divine… He had no wish to herald his marriage. He turned the page.

He’d wanted a comfortable marriage – that, he knew, he would have to fight to obtain. He’d also wanted a comfortable marriage bed – that, he now knew, he would never have. He would have far more in his bed.

Clearly there had been no woman in Meredith’s life to tell her she ought to lie still and not move, while a man took his pleasure. Well, Amen, and thank God, to that. He had married a delicious, sultry hoyden. He smiled, still looking at the paper, although no longer reading it, as memories slipped through his head.

He had not been able to sleep after his exertions last night. He’d lain awake longing to go back for a second course, and wishing he had not left her bed.

He would go back tonight.

Meredith came into the room, and he instantly stood, looking at her and nodding slightly. “Good morning, Meredith.”

Her eyes focused on his and she gave him that smile, the one which sought to please. The one which had annoyed him for so many months. A warm sensation gripped in his chest.

Last night he’d had to direct her to sit at the far end of the table when she would have taken a seat near him. This morning he beckoned her forward. It would do no harm in the mornings. Her lips parted, her smile broadening.

The warmth, which had blossomed in his chest when she came in, tightened its grip, and left him feeling short of breath.

“Sit here, Meredith; we may be informal in the mornings.”

A footman drew out a chair, and once she was seated, the man poured her chocolate.

Rupert’s heart thumped oddly as he remembered the body beneath her clothes, and how last night it had responded so beautifully to him.

Yes, he had been attracted to her physically, for a long time, yet he’d denied it. The charms he’d felt her weaving about him had not been cast by her, but by his own lust.

Another footman offered to fill her plate.

“How are you?” Rupert asked. Her head, which had been bent, now lifted and her gaze met his, that lovely vivid blue. “Did you sleep well?”

She seemed paler than normal and she looked tired. Perhaps her conscience – if she had one – had been bothering her. It should be bothering her… The girl had tricked him into marrying her. Yet today, he was far less angry about the whole debacle.

“Yes, thank you, Lord Morton.”

“There is little point in you calling me that, now. You must call me, Rupert, Meredith.”

She blushed, then glanced at Rowena, who only now lifted her gaze from her letter, and put it aside. Rowena did not speak, though. She merely glanced at her former friend, before picking up her cutlery and starting her breakfast.

Rupert picked up the paper and passed it to Meredith. “My announcement is in here.” Then he rose, having finished eating. He would go to Jackson’s, and then dine at White’s, before it was the hour to go to the House of Lords.

He glanced at Rowena. “I have asked Ellen to take you and Meredith shopping today.”

Rowena looked up, and gave him the sympathetic smile she’d been bestowing on him ever since Meredith had played her ace. Rowena felt guilty, whether her friend did or not. She had been apologising constantly during the last couple of days; her look suggested another.

He smiled back. Welcome or not, intended or not, Meredith was to live with them now and they must make the best of it. Rowena would have to learn to forgive, as he had to learn to accept. Since last night though, he thought it might be easier than he’d expected to accept his new fate.

He glanced at Meredith again. She stood, as though to speak or to do something, but then appeared to not know what…

He left.

Capturing The Earl’s Love is the story of two of the secondary characters from the 1st book in

the Marlow Intrigues Series

‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’

The Lost Love of Soldier

The prequel to The Illicit Love of a Courtesan

is available to pre-order

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.

Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback

Capturing The Earl’s Love Part Eleven ~ A Historical Romance Story

A #free short story… I’ll be telling it here, and it can also now be downloaded from Amazon.

Capturing the Earl’s Love

A Historical Romance story

Part Three

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Note – today’s episode is a little hot 😉

Carrying the tension which had been gripping him all day, Rupert walked into Meredith’s bedchamber, wearing only a silk dressing gown. He still could not quite believe this was real. It felt like a nightmare, one from which any moment he might wake. But she was there, in the countess’s bedchamber, which connected to his rooms via a private door. She was in bed, awake, but silent.

She wore a nightgown, which he could see above the top of the sheets. It was buttoned right up to her chin, and also at her wrists, hiding almost every inch of her. Her hands gripped the covers and held them over her chest as she sat up. Her loose hair fell in a glorious waterfall of amber, tumbling over her shoulders, caressing both the covers and the pillow behind her as she moved.

Something clasped heavy and firm in his stomach and gripped at his groin. He might not wish her for his wife, but he would have no trouble consummating the match, no trouble at all.

“Meredith.” He’d said little more than that to her all day. He was not willing to make this marriage easy for her, and nor was he going to let her avoid her duty. She had forced him to take her as his wife, so now she must fulfill all the expectations of that role.

He moved forward, leaving the candles burning to add to his pleasure, and her discomfort. He felt no charity for her. She had brought this on herself.

“I… I’m… s…sorry.”

“It is far too late for that.”

“I—”

“I have no wish to hear anything you have to say, Meredith. So pray, do not speak. I have only come to consummate the match.”

Her mouth formed an “O” and then shifted to a pout as he undid the sash at his waist.

When he shrugged off his dressing gown, her gaze dropped, as did her jaw.

He was still not inclined to be kind, and he hadn’t realised, until this moment, that is was possible to be intensely angry with someone and yet intensely attracted to them, too. That hair… “Let the covers go.”

She did. They fell to her waist, only revealing more of her nightgown.

“Stand up.”

She looked nervous and scared as she climbed off the bed and then stood before him. All he could see of her body was her hands, her face and her toes. Her thick linen nightgown hid all else.

He met her gaze and stepped forwards, his eyes holding on to the blue as his fingers began working loose the buttons at her front, starting at her chin and moving down.

She was shaking. She bit her lip and her eyes dropped to stare at his Adam’s apple. His gaze dropped to watch each button slip free and the material begin to gape. Her skin was as pale as cream; it had not one single blemish, and her hair glowed in the candlelight, a striking contrast to her pale complexion.

The pulse in his groin intensified, and he was fully erect, while something equally hard tightened in his chest.

Yes, he had no issue with consummating this marriage. He wouldn’t lie to himself any more, he had been physically attracted to her ever since Rowena had introduced her. This was the only part of his life which would be a pleasure from now onwards. He had wanted a comfortable marriage; he would make this it. He may not like her, but he wanted her.

When her nightgown was loose, he brushed it off her shoulders and it dropped to the floor, leaving her naked.

His fingers slipped into her hair, and, cradling her nape, he brought her mouth to his, and kissed her, open-mouthed. She kissed him back, brushing her tongue past his lips.

She knew how to kiss, then. Lord, he hoped she was not loose. He did not want a wife who would cuckold him. Still, it hardly mattered now. She was the wife he had, for better or for worse.

His hands moved, running over her body. He’d thought her thinner than she was. She had wide hips, flesh a man could grasp. He clasped her buttocks as he kissed her. She did not seem at all shocked, or afraid, not now. She pressed against him with more confidence than he’d imagined she would have. Perhaps it was the bravado he had always seen in her returning. Perhaps she did not care if he liked her or not, as long as she had what she wanted. At the moment, he did not particularly care whether he liked her or not, either. He liked this…

His hand gripped her breast, and she arched, pressing it into his hand. Her breast had an exquisite pert tilt, which made her tight nipple stand proud. He caressed it with his thumb as her tongue weaved about his, not compliant, but hungry. She was not merely permitting his kiss and his caresses, but clearly taking pleasure in them – proving that, her hand moved from where it had gripped his shoulder, falling to his groin, and then she clasped him.

Lord, she would unman him in a moment. He’d had no mistress for a year; he had not thought it right to have one when Rowena had come out.

His kiss became more ardent, his tongue pressing deep into Meredith’s mouth as her fingers worked in tight swift strokes. He ought to care that she knew a man’s body far too well, he ought to be angry. But the anger had gone from him. There was no room in his head for thoughts; it was swamped with sensation.

“Meredith…” he said into her mouth as his fingers gripped in her hair and at her breast, then his tongue fenced with hers as she fought him for who would invade whose mouth.

Panting and ravenous, he backed her towards the bed, and then they tumbled.

He could be slow and take his time, but he was not inclined for that. He had abstained for far too long. He just wanted quick, urgent relief, and she was his wife; he could have what he wished.

Within moments her legs were braced open by his, and he was looking down at her, holding steady in the single second before he plunged.

Her gaze shone with heat, but there was also fear there again, and when he was inside her, deep inside her, he saw a flash of pain, having burst through the brief restriction of her maidenhead.

She had been a virgin. She was untouched by any other man, in this way.

There was a deep sudden feeling of relief as he watched her bite her lip. She might have toyed with other men, but she’d kept herself whole for the marriage bed. He began moving, slowly at first, steadily.

She held his gaze for a little while, lying still and looking up at him as he pressed all the weight of his upper body on to his hands, so he might work with more skill.

His heart was thumping and he suddenly had an intense desire to ensure she was as pleased by this as he would be, and he knew he would be. He increased his pace.

She began moving, lifting her hips, and using muscles in her stomach which he could feel tightening inside her.

As he pressed in, she pressed up, and it became a battle between them — no, not a battle, more like a country dance where each step counterbalanced the other.

Lord, Lord. She was fiery hot.

Still holding her gaze, he smiled gently, with closed lips.

She smiled back, responding, as his pace became more aggressive. He entered her with firm, fast, deep strokes. Then he was kissing her hair, her face, biting at her lip, nuzzling her neck and nipping at her shoulder.

Her fingers clawed into his back, cutting through his skin, and her panting rang on the still air in the bedchamber.

“No, stop,” she cried towards the end, as her head pressed back into the mattress and her eyes closed. She bit her lip, but then her mouth fell open and a rush of warmth flooded about his intrusion, while he felt a spasm claw at him to stay in her heat.

Conceding, he reached his end and pressed deep, relinquishing himself inside her.

Her fingers clung to his back, holding him close.