English Rose Ch. 06

"You should have thought about that before you joined him on the terrace," Macus said.

Joan stiffened at his tone. "I did not accompany him out here - he followed me and waited until I was alone."

"Be that as it may..." Marcus began.

"Marcus, what is going on here?" Lady Billings called, coming closer with every second that passed.

"A moment, Mother." Marcus stared down at Miss Whitman, "What do you propose we tell them?"

"I don't know...nothing...anything...just please don't tell them it was Weaverly," Joan begged.

"They will assume that I had something to do with this," Marcus said.

"I will make sure that they know it wasn't you," Joan assured him.

Marcus scoffed. "No one will believe you. Is Weaverly really so bad that you don't want to marry him?" Marcus thought all young ladies of the ton wanted marriage.

"Would you?" Joan countered.

Surprised, Marcus frowned but had to conceed the point. Weaverly was older then Miss Whitman by at least twenty years and known to be a drunk and a gambler. Of course, so was Marcus so who was he to judge?

"It doesn't matter what I would do," Marcus said. "No one is going to believe I didn't compromise you unless you offer up another name. By the sounds of it Weaverly would be happy to accept responsibility."

"That is exactly what he wants," Joan dared a glance over Lord Edington's shoulder and felt her stomach pitch and roll. A group of the ton's most notorious matrons were barreling down on them. "Weaverly is after my dowry, I already denied him once which is why he worked to get me in this position in the first place. He didn't count on your timely appearance."

Marcus was impressed that she had deduced Weaverly's intentions so quickly and clearly. She was obviously bright and so far hadn't collapsed into a fit of hysterics. It wasn't what he would have expected from a young lady of the ton. "So what do you suggest we do?" Marcus asked.

Joan nibbled at her lower lip. Lord Edington was correct, there was no repairing her appearace, certainly not while standing in the dark garden. The most she could hope for was to bluff her way through and hope for the best. At this point the best would be anything that did not include marriage to Weaverly. "Just...let me pass, I'll deal with your mother and make sure she knows it wasn't you. You can be on your way."

Marcus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "If you think to trap me into offering for you..."

"No!" Joan cried. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving me from Weaverly. I would never repay you that way."

Marcus snorted. "Look, no one is going to believe that it wasn't me - not now." He had wasted too much time talking to the girl. It would look like an obvious attempt at extricating himself from the situation. "Besides, if they do believe it they won't let it rest until you name the man responsible. So, unless you plan to name some poor, unsuspecting sap then you will be forced to name Weaverly thus ending up in the one position you hoped to avoid."

"So what are you suggesting?" Joan asked.

"I will accept responsibility for your current...predicament...and prevent Weaverly from stepping forward. However," he warned, "know that I will not offer for you."

Joan blinked in surprise at the offer. She was well aware of Lord Edington's reputation and his aversion to unmarried ladies. "Why would you do that?" Joan asked.

Marcus frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to make such an offer. Perhaps all the booze he'd been drinking had finally pickled his brain. Shrugging he said, "What does it matter so long as we are in agreement as to the terms of my offer."

"Marcus, who do you have back there?" Lady Billings came to an abrupt stop. Something about her son's stance warned her that she was not going to like what was about to happen. Suddenly, she wished she had invited the ladies to the orangery instead of the garden. "Marcus?"

Marcus turned to face his mother, drawing Miss Whitman from between the trees and wrapping his arm casually around her waist. "You always did have remarkable timing, Mother."

Marcus watched as his mother looked from him to Miss Whitman and back again, understanding dawned and her lips tightened in disapproval. Why, he wondered, did her disapproval suddenly seem to bother him?

"I see," Lady Billings muttered. "Miss Whitman."

Joan dipped a quick curtsy. "My lady."

"Millie, go and fetch Lady Whitman. I believe I last saw her with her husband in the card room." Lady Billings addressed her request to her long time friend Mildred. "Please be quick and quiet."

"Of course," Millie said and went in search of Joan's parents.

"Really, Mother, is that necessary?" Marcus drawled.

Lady Billings' eyes narrowed. "Of course it is. You know how these things work Marcus."

"Of course I do," Marcus said. "I was rather enjoying myself until the lot of you interrupted. Ah, the Lord and Lady Whitman. Well, now that your parents have arrived I believe I will take myself off."

Joan squared her shoulders and prepared to meet her father's wrath. She had meant it when she said that she had no intention of forcing Lord Edington into marriage. "Goodnight, my lord."

"Now wait one minute!" Lord Whitman cried.

"Joanie, what is the meaning of this?" her mother asked.

"Marcus, you can't expect..." Lady Billings was horrified as she watched Marcus preparing to leave.

"Indeed I do," Marcus said. "It's been a lovely evening," he said, his gaze sliding suggestively towards Miss Whitman. If he was going to play the cad he might as well play it to the fullest. "But I'm afraid I really must be off."

"I must protest!" Lord Whitman cried having summed up the situation almost immediately.

"Joanie?"

Joan cringed at the quiet concern of her mother's voice. "Mama, I can explain."

"Marcus, you will remain..."

"No, Mother, I will not." Marcus said. "The young lady and I had an understanding and it did not extend past this evening."

"Oh, Marcus, how could you?" his mother asked. Marcus was many things but she never would have thought him capable of ruining a young lady and then leaving her to fend for herself.

Marcus felt himself stiffen. Why was it so easy for his mother to believe that he would stoop to trifling with a young unmarried lady? Why did he care if she did? "You know perfectly well what I'm capable of."

Lady Billings paled at the reminder. "Very well, Marcus, leave if you must but this is not over."

"It most definitely is not!" Lord Whitman reached past Marcus and grabbed his daughter by the arm. "Come along Joanie, we're going home. You and I will speak tomorrow," he warned Marcus before turning to herd his wife and daughter through the growing crowd.

Marcus watched them leave, not surprised when the young woman turned to give him one last look. He was surprised to see that she didn't look panicked, just sort of resolved. Whatever happened, he had a feeling she would be fine. Smoothing down his cravat, Marcus gave him mother a shallow bow. "Thank you, Mother, it's been an...eventful...evening."

Lady Billings didn't say anything, just watched as Marcus disappeared into the crowd.

****

Douglas woke stiff and sore from passing the night in the chair beside his father's bed. Sabrina had come to check on him a time or two, offering to take his place and let him get some sleep. While he'd appreciated her offer, he wanted to stay by his father's beside.

"Son?"

Douglas' eyes snapped to his father's face. "Father."

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"According to Mae, two days." Douglas helped his father to sit up before calling for George. "How are you feeling?"

Charles laughed lightly, the sound weak even to his own ears. "Tired, if you can believe that."

Douglas didn't say anything just smoothed down the blanket. "Shall I order you something to eat?"

"George can do that," Charles said. "I'm glad you're here and if I'm not mistaken your wayward bride along with you?"

"Sabrina accompanied me to Arlington Park," Douglas confirmed. "She sat with you for a while last night so I could bathe and have a bite to eat."

"You'd have been better off leaving her in London," Charles said, his tone one of stark disapproval.

"Leave it alone, Father and know that whatever my wife did I drove her to." Douglas would not spend whatever time they had remaining arguing with his father over the state of his marriage.

Charles frowned. "I read the papers and keep up on my correspondence. You don't seriously expect me to believe that your drove your wife to an affair?"

Douglas sat back and sighed. "We both made some mistakes but we're working through them and I expect you to treat Sabrina with the same respect you showed her before."

Charles looked at his son; Douglas looked worn and tired, much as he had over the past few months but he also looked relieved. "Very well," Charles agreed. "I will take your word for it and assume that you know what you are doing."

"Thank you," Douglas said. After a half an hour of getting caught up Douglas finally left his father and went in search of Sabrina. The duke had assured him that he was feeling rested and planned to dine with the family.

Douglas found Sabrina and his Aunt Mae sitting together in the morning salon. The room was the ultimate in femininity with pale yellow walls, delicate furniture and little lace doylies Douglas had never understood. It was also the brightest room in the morning and early afternoon which was why the ladies liked it.

Aunt Mae stood at his entrance. "How is he?"

Douglas smiled reassuringly, "He's awake. I left him with George to bathe and dress. He plans to join us for dinner tonight."

"That's wonderful," Mae said. "He hasn't gotten out of bed much since your last visit. I was starting to worry that..."

They both knew that Mae had feared her brother would never rise from his bed again. Despite all of his years of strength the duke's illness was taking its toll.

"He's looking well rested," Douglas assured her. Looking over his aunt's head he caught Sabrina watching him and silently shook his head. Despite his father's ability to get out of bed the energy was only temporary. Time was drawing to a close and they both knew it.

Sabrina and Douglas spent the afternoon with Mae taking turns entertaining her. The duke remained in his rooms, resting until dinner when he planned to join them. By silent agreement they decided to dine early in order to ensure the duke's company.

Douglas escorted his father to dinner, the duke leaning heavily on his arm, before he took his place next to Sabrina.

"Good evening," the duke greeted his sister warmly before cooling nodding at Sabrina. "I trust you all had a relaxing afternoon?"

Sabrina felt her heart sink at the duke's chilly reception. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting. She had known that there was a good chance that the duke and Aunt Mae would have received word of her activities in London. Still, she missed the warm feeling of family she had received upon her last visit to Arlington Park.

Douglas, well aware of Sabrina's discomfort, reached over and covered her hand with his own. Giving his father a warning glance, he steered the conversation into neutral territory.

Dinner passed by quickly and while Sabrina knew it was ungenerous of her she couldn't help but feel relieved at being free to rise and leave the men to their port.

"Give him time," Mae offered as the ladies retired to the library. "Charles is very protective of Douglas and a bit blind to his son's own shortcomings." Douglas had pulled Mae aside and explained that he'd had a hand in Sabrina's actions in London though he refused to elaborate.

"It's okay," Sabrina said. "I understand." Wandering around the library she couldn't help but fear that the duke might try and talk Douglas out of their reconciliation.

Later that night Sabrina sat quietly in her room, her legs tucked up under her and a book forgotten on her lap. Lost in thought, she didn't hear Douglas let himself into her room.

Douglas had spent the rest of the evening with his father. After ensuring the duke was settled in for the night he'd gone in search of his wife and found her sitting quietly in her room. Looking around, Douglas remembered the nights they'd spent there during their first visit together to Arlington Park.

"Hey," he said not wanting to startle her.

Sabrina turned to find Doulgas standing in her doorway. "Hey." He looked tired, she thought. "How is he?"

"Tired," Douglas admitted. "Dressing for dinner took more out of him then I think he anticipated."

Sabrina stood, noting that Douglas hadn't crossed the threshold into her room. Turning, she indicated the decanter on the table beside her. "Would you care to join me?" she asked.

Douglas nodded, crossing the room he took the glass she offered and sipped gratefully. "Thank you."

Sabrina watched as Douglas sat and drank in silence. Fingering the tie to her robe she found herself at a loss as to what to do next. The three days on the road had done much to bridge the gap that had grown between the two of them. However, late nights and early mornings in the saddle had left both of them too tired to think about anything other then sleep. Douglas had spent their first night at Arlington Park beside his father while Sabrina slept alone. She didn't begrudge him the time but hoped to have another night with him soon.

Neither one of them had spoken of the night she slipped into Douglas' bed. She had woken early and alone, the warmth of the bed beside her letting her know that Douglas hadn't been gone long. She had no idea what he'd thought at finding her there. Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you stay?"

Douglas looked up from his drink at her question. He'd been lost in thoughts of his father, wondering how much time they might have left and struggled to pull his thoughts back to the present. Searching her face he saw uncertainty evident in her eyes.

He hadn't pursued an intimate relationship with his wife since their reconciliation - not for lack of wanting. He was uncertain as to where they stood with each other. It was clear that they were past courting but didn't have the comfort with each other of those long since married. Reaching up, Douglas grasped her wrist and pulled her down on to his lap.

Sabrina shifted until she was tucked up against his chest enjoying the feel of his strong thighs beneath her.

"I'm sorry," Douglas said encircling her waist with his arms and pulling her more tightly against him. "We haven't had much time to ourselves."

"It's okay," she said softly. "I understand."

"This isn't how I wanted things to be," he said. He would have liked more time alone, the two of them free to rediscover each other. He wanted her to get to know him again and see that things could be good between them.

"I know." Sabrina ran her fingertips down the front of Douglas' cravat. Without thinking she tugged on the fabric, watching as the delicate folds collapsed and fell away from his neck.

Douglas shivered as she slipped her hand inside the exposed V of his shirt. Her cool fingers felt wonderful against the warm skin of his chest. Leaving her to explore, Douglas brushed the hair back from her shoulder revealing the long line of her neck and the delicate shell of one ear. Gently, he ran the pad of his thumb up the column of her neck feeling her pulse jump in response.

Sabrina tilted her head to the side, sighing as Douglas replaced his thumb with his lips. Distracted by the light kisses it took a moment for Sabrina to realize that Douglas had opened the front of her robe and had slid his hands inside. His palms burned through the thin material of her nightgown, branding her wherever he touched.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, Douglas lifted Sabrina to her feet but didn't immediately follow. Instead, he slid to the edge of his chair, spreading his legs and pulling her to stand between his knees.

Sabrina stared down into Douglas' face watching as he lifted his hands to her shoulders. With agonizing slowness he pushed the light fabric of her robe from her shoulders, tracing the path the material took with the tips of his fingers and watching as it slid down her arms to pool about her feet.

Lifting her hands to his face, Sabrina tipping his head back and lowered her lips for a kiss. She kissed him gently, softly and with all the tenderness she had felt for him over the past few days. There was hope and promise in her touch, a taste of what was still to come as they worked their way back to each other. She kissed him in apology and in forgiveness.

Douglas felt emotion wash over and through him, felt the first stirrings of healing and responded with the love that had been tested but never broken. In that moment he knew that there was more then just hope for them.

Not breaking the kiss, Douglas rose slowly, sliding up Sabrina's body. The movement pressed them firmly together and changed the tone of the kiss. No longer soft and gentle, the kiss became hungry and a little bit desperate. Hurried movements marked them as clothes were quickly discarded leaving them naked and panting.

Quickly, Douglas reached down and swept Sabrina up into his arms, carrying her to the bed. Following her down on to the mattress, he covered her body with his own moaning at the first feel of her flesh. His entire body shuddered hard when she instantly spread her legs, cradling him between her thighs.

"God, you feel so good," she whispered, drawing her legs up and wrapping them around his hips. She could feel his erection pressed hard and throbbing against the swollen folds of her entrance. She wanted, needed, to feel him inside of her. "Douglas, please," she begged.

Douglas stared down into his wife's face. They lay close together, barely a breath between their lips so that they shared the same air. Her eyes were bright, her lips parted and wet from his kiss. He had thought to make love to her slowly but all thoughts of seduction fled as her heels dug into his flank drawing him closer to the heat of her core. Still watching her face, he shifted and sheathed himself in her gloriously wet heat.

Sabrina cried out as Douglas filled her, arching her body and rising up to meet him. That first thrust was all it took to bind their bodies in a sensual dance.

Braced on his elbows, his arms wrapped up and under her shoulders, Douglas rolled and thrust his hips in a long, slow slide in and out of Sabrina's body. He was hard and aching, his body straining against the need to thrust deeper, faster and harder. Ah, but he wanted to savor the moment, to make it last for the both of them.

Sabrina surrendered to Douglas, letting him set the pace and lead them through wave after wave of pleasure. Despite their desperate beginning, they settled into a slow, sensual slide of body against body, each thrust of hips bringing them closer and closer to a finale that was sure to shatter them both.

"Douglas," Sabrina whimpered as her body started to tighten.

"Tell me you're mine," Douglas growled, shifting to slow, shallow thrusts that could keep her on the edge indefinitely.

"I'm yours," Sabrina said without hesitation.

"Again," Douglas ordered.

Sabrina whimpered pleadingly but still didn't hesitate to say, "I'm yours."

"Again," Douglas said rewarding her with a hard, fast thrust that buried him within her to the base of his shaft.

"I'm yours!" Sabrina cried, feeling her body grow tighter still. "I'm yours!"

Douglas reached down and grabbed Sabrina by the hips; anchoring her to the bed he thrust forward again and again reveling in the sensation of her tight passage gripping him as he impaled her on his cock. She was wet and tight, her body stretching to accommodate him. He could feel her body tightening beneath him, the muscles of her stomach quivering with each press of his pelvis. She was close, he knew, and in that moment there wasn't anything he wanted more than to give her the pleasure to be had from their bodies.