The Vengeful Bridegroom Read online

  First slowly, then moving her hips more quickly, she felt his body tighten as she grasped his strong arms to steady herself. When he reached between them to touch her again, she cried out, disbelieving there was more to learn, more to feel.

  She needed his strength, needing something, someone to cling to, lost as she was at the feeling of oneness with him. She had never been this close to another person. There could never be anyone else. The pleasure he gave her was exquisite, and she wanted to capture it with her hands, her body, her heart.

  Soon, soon. He watched her as she watched him consumed in their journey, their chase, their reward. He waited for her, and when he knew she was ready, he pressed deep inside her, both wanting their passion to last longer than would ever be enough.

  She fell to his chest, panting, and felt his heart beating rapidly under her cheek. When she had recovered her senses, she rolled off him to nestle by his side. Their heavy breathing slowly subsided as Gabriel gathered Madelene close to his side, kissing the top of her head, hoping, believing, they could be happy, no matter the circumstances that had brought them together.

  In the lush peacefulness of unexpected solace, they didn’t notice a figure steal away into the dark trees, keeping more secrets.

  Her rumbling stomach awakened Madelene in the early-morning hours. She raised herself on her elbows and noticed the fruit on the other side of Gabriel’s slumbering form. Slowly, so as not to awaken him, she eased herself out of his embrace and reached over his chest for the peach.

  Its sweetness almost made her moan as she sat eating the peach, unaware that juices had meandered down her wrist to her arm and from her lips to her neck. Almost finished, she was disappointed to not have another one to feast on. She looked down and noticed Gabriel staring up at her with warmth and amusement in his deep brown eyes, a satisfied smile held his lips.

  “Enjoying your fare, my wife? I see none left for me. There must be something—” He swooped in for a few precious licks on her neck and a long tongue slide up her arm, which made her giggle. Playfully pushing him away, she rose and headed to the side of the lake to clean her hands, completely aware that she had halted his pleasure in doing so.

  Madelene had no sooner stooped to put her hands in the lukewarm water before Gabriel came behind her and scooped her up and splashed into the knee-deep water.

  She began to scream, struggling in his arms, as he dropped her unceremoniously into the dark lake.

  “I can’t swim,” she yelled to him, floundering in the water.

  He watched her and shook his head with a cockeyed grin. “Madelene, it’s not deep. You can stand.”

  Flinging her wet hair out of her face, she pushed off from the lake floor and stood a little unsteadily, gaining her footing.

  Gabriel could not take his eyes off this mesmerizing wraith. She seemed born of water as the rivulets and drops caressed and painted her slender form. The moonlight and shadows played a foreign melody on her pale skin.

  He wanted her again.

  Although she still sputtered around in the water, she soon felt heat from an unexpected source. Gabriel swam up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her bottom against him while he kissed her neck in search of his favorite fruit called Madelene.

  She rested against Gabriel’s strong chest, feeling trapped, yet safe and wanted, but not for long because he quickly turned her around so she could feel his hot and heavy need, her erect nipples against his damp chest before he picked her up with no hesitation and wrapped her legs around his waist, searching for a warm, wet sheath for his own dagger.

  Tight inside her, he looked into her innocent blue eyes. “How is it possible you destroy me, yet also give me life?” he whispered, overcome by his need and his longing for her.

  She simply shook her head, for she had no answers either. Gabriel took it slowly this time, savoring their sodden, slippery union in achingly long minutes. Firmly grasping her bottom in both hands, he directed her movements to achieve the sweetest sensation for both of them. It was far easier to come together in the water, their slick bodies making it all the more pleasurable. Madelene clung to her husband’s neck, pressing her wet breasts and hard nipples against his chest, creating a frisson of heat in a whirlpool of unabated passion. Lips clung, tasted, and kissed with no need for breathing.

  Madelene matched his thrusts with equal ardor while taking his tongue into her mouth and teasing him with her engaging and unending innocence. The warm water made a unique bed as Gabriel delighted in his wife’s fervent response as they ached to become as close as two people could get, until two bodies melded into one. No end and no beginning. The first time had only been a fragment, a sparkle, a longing, a single star. This time the blanket of stars enwrapped the lovers in a new world of knowingness and never-ending.

  Gabriel delighted in the feel of the bathlike water lapping against his skin as he floated in the calmness before swimming strong strokes from one side to the other. He lazily watched Madelene as she rose gracefully from the water, reinventing Venus Arising, her lean pale form glistening in the late night. Would she ever cease to amaze and delight him? He didn’t plan on finding out.

  Madelene walked over to their makeshift blanket and pulled on her night rail, lost in what she had learned, what she had become. Gabriel’s wife. Truly.

  While this night changed everything for them, it changed nothing for her brother. She still needed the dagger.

  Surreptitiously, she gathered the dagger in the folds of her nightwrap along with the remaining fruit. Looking for Gabriel, she watched him climb from the lake and approach her, dripping wet, in all his nakedness, with a big grin on his face.

  He reached down and grabbed his discarded pantaloons, climbing into them with little difficulty. Gabriel had never felt so free, unencumbered. As he watched her start the walk back to the house, he realized in surprise he had never planned for this to happen. He could never have taken her innocence without her willingness. When the wager’s demands had been fulfilled, a year’s span or a lifetime, he wouldn’t be able to let her go. She enlivened his soul, where before there had only been his need for revenge and mourning for his sister.

  What lay before him was continuing to build his inheritance from his uncle and finding a willing woman to wed and bear his children. He had never understood that there was more to life than planning sea routes, a good hunt, a fine wine, and preparing his sons for their destiny.

  Gabriel smiled. Sons. Yes, indeed, he wanted lots of them, with Madelene as their mother.

  Although much between them remained unresolved, including the dagger. And last night.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her progress. “Mrs. Lavishtock found this in the drawing room and gave it to me. It is from the count.”

  She looked down to see the note in his hand. Gazing up at him, she asked, “Do you believe me?”

  “Of course. I should have believed you last night when you mentioned the count. However, my anger won over my reasoning. If I had understood the true circumstances, I would have searched for his foreign hide and made it unmistakably clear to him not to come anywhere near you. It will not happen again.”

  Noting her hands full, he told her, “Please, allow me,” easily divesting her of her treasures. He immediately felt the hardness of the dagger within her thin wrap. “Ah, my dagger. I did wonder what I had done with it.” He watched her with a pleasant look on his face.

  She lifted her chin and told him simply, “I gathered everything to carry into the house. It wasn’t as if I was going to steal the dagger.” She hoped she didn’t sound guilty.

  But nothing could dampen his good humor. “Of course, because I would know you were the one who had taken it.” He returned the dagger to its sheath, took a bite of the nectarine, and wrapped Madelene’s nightwrap around her before taking her hand to walk back to the house, using the same path they had taken earlier. “If I gave you the dagger, what would you do with it?”

  Madelene paused.
She shook her head and sighed. What did it matter, for time was running out.

  “My brother needs the dagger because the owner is demanding it and has told Matthew in no uncertain terms of the consequences should he fail to deliver it.” She couldn’t stop the tears in her voice, such was her worry for her brother. “But this count wants it, too. I don’t know what to do.” No matter what, Matthew was her only family. She had to help him and could never forgive herself if she didn’t, and catastrophic events resulted.

  “I have no doubt, if your brother has the dagger, it will solve many things,” he told her matter-of-factly.

  She stopped to stare at him in the lifting gray dawn, haze already drifting over the fields.

  “You’ll, you’ll give me the dagger to give to my brother?” Surely, this was too much to hope for. This would fix everything. Almost everything.

  “Not entirely. I’ll take the dagger to your brother, and if I’m correct in my speculation, the count will be waiting there as well,” he replied, walking backward toward the house before turning to walk forward.

  Madelene hurried to catch up to him and grabbed his arm. “You would do this? But what about Alec? And Matthew is expecting me. He might be, ah, unwilling to meet with you. It would be best if I took the dagger to Matthew.”

  Gabriel stopped, turned and took her chin in his hand, raising her troubled eyes to meet his. “Don’t worry your head over Alec, I’ll have a talk with her. As for your brother, you have no choice. Either I meet with him or he won’t have the dagger. Trust me to see this through and to protect your brother from harm.”

  At that moment, gazing into his determined brown eyes, she believed him capable of anything, even making their marriage out of a loaded wager.

  When she nodded her acquiescence, he took her hand, and they strolled back to the house together in quiet companionship.

  Someone watched the lovers from the window in complete annoyance. So that is the way of it. Enjoy tonight, for there will be no more.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alec surprised Gabriel with her appearance midday while he worked in his study on plans for acquiring new shipments from the West Indies.

  “Mr. Westcott, may I speak with you?” Her Italian accent caught him unawares, and he looked up to find her in the entryway wearing a lovely white gown with a simple blue ribbon. He frowned, wondering why the change in dress, but thought no more on it because he was glad she had sought him out. They needed to have a conversation.

  He stood and walked over to the door. “Please, come in. I wish to speak with you as well.” Gabriel escorted her to a wing chair before pulling the matching one near hers. “We have much to discuss. What is on your mind?”

  The young woman smiled a shy smile and fluttered her fan. Expertly. When had she—This young lady was full of surprises. He’d forgotten her real name, Alessandra, and hadn’t called her by that name since their time together in Florence.

  He thought about the young woman who had befriended him in Italy. Alec had been quite solicitous during his sister’s illness and final passing. Although surprised when she asked to accompany him to England, he had agreed. He had even promised to keep her secret about her gender and her understanding of English, to better hide from her uncle.

  For the first several months, in Westcott Close and in London, he had treated her like a young sister, and she proved to be of much assistance preparing the nursery. The young woman was adamant about earning her keep, so he had Windthorp take her under his wing.

  Her dramatic change occurred when they stayed in London while he completed his plans to marry Madelene. About a week before the hasty marriage was arranged, she turned a sour tongue and vanished for a day or two at a time, returning with no explanation as to her whereabouts. He had trusted her even after she showed a reluctance to travel with him to Shropshire. Indeed, the woman was more puzzlement than the sphinx.

  “Mr. Westcott, I, I hope you can understand my English, but I am most grateful you have allowed me to stay here. You have been most welcoming, but I think perhaps I should return home. If you no longer have need for me.” She continued smiling at him.

  A sense of relief swept over him. Alec could return to her life, and he and Madelene—“I know it was difficult to live with your uncle. Although I haven’t seen him in some time, do you have any reason to believe he has changed?”

  Alec cast her eyes to the floor and shook her head. “I do not believe he has changed, but everything has changed with us. After you brought her here, to Westcott Close.” Her voice sounded different, almost angry from the soft tones she used moments past.

  His brows knitted, he replied, “Mrs. Westcott? I told you about her in Florence and my plans to marry her.” He sat farther back in his chair to study the young woman. Does she have feelings for me? But why? I have never encouraged her that our friendship would be more, only offering her a place to stay while she decided her future. He was indeed grateful for the assistance and friendship she gave him while caring for Lucinda. But there could never have been more between them.

  Alec leaned over to press her hand over his, resting on his thigh. “I remember our time in Florence together. I had hoped I had come to mean more to you. You would forget about these plans to marry that English girl. We could be happy with the dagger.”

  A knock on the door prevented his response. “Mr. Westcott, I wanted to speak with you—” Madelene stopped inside the door, her eyes widened at seeing Alec with Gabriel. In female clothing. With her hand on my husband’s hand.

  “My dear, we were discussing our time in Italy together.” His explanation only fueled her temper.

  “Yes, Mrs. Westcott, your husband and I have shared a lot together.”

  Madelene watched the young woman slowly remove her hand from her husband’s. Redirecting her attention, Alec said to Mr. Westcott, “We’ll complete our conversation later,” then rose from her chair to walk to the door.

  Madelene gritted her teeth, Alec’s complete change in appearance not lost on her. She would be a fool to not think the young girl flirted with her husband. But what did the young girl want more—the dagger or her husband?

  Madelene and Gabriel ignored the young woman’s departure.

  “Mrs. Westcott, what was it you wished to see me about?” he asked while returning to his desk.

  A nearby chair presented Madelene with welcome support, which she fell into. And deliberated about the little scene she had witnessed. “Mr. Westcott, you never have exactly explained your relationship with Alec or whatever her name is.”

  Gabriel cleared his throat. “Her real name is Alessandra. And as for our relationship, nothing untoward at all. She was simply a friend to my sister and me during our stay in Florence.”

  “I see.” She didn’t, but an idea occurred to her to judge his sentiments of the girl. “It seems quite a time has passed since she was home in her own country. Perhaps it would be an excellent time for her to return?”

  Leaning back in his chair, he studied Madelene and shook his head. “What a coincidence. Alec was actually here to advise me she is planning to return to her home as soon as this other matter can be settled.”

  “You mean the dagger?” Madelene interjected.

  “Yes, there is still much to sort out about this business.”

  “It, it doesn’t alter anything for tonight? You haven’t changed your mind about giving my brother the dagger?”

  “No, but something tells me that we are all pursuing the same end.”

  Frowning, she inquired, “You mentioned this previously. Whatever could you mean?”

  “I hope to better explain after tonight.”

  “Where could she be?” Matthew asked himself again as he paced the small clearing off the road to Ludlow, only a mile from Westcott Close. Brelford, like a good chap, waited back at the inn for Matthew to return. Once they had the dagger, they planned to head for London as fast as the fastest carriage could convey them.

  Hardly able to be
lieve his luck, he felt great relief upon receiving Madelene’s note to meet him here tonight. She had the dagger in her possession. Matthew could finally leave this small village for the excitement of Town and more wealth in his pockets, after he returned the meddle-some sharp stick. He couldn’t estimate its value.

  It must be close to one o’clock in the morning. The moon acted as a beacon, brightening the night. Why his sister had chosen a different location, puzzled Matthew. But I guess one cannot be too careful.

  Even earlier this evening, the innkeeper told him that the village had had many more visitors than usual around this time of year. Since Matthew couldn’t trust the count, it could very well be Taglioni’s men here looking for the dagger.

  Growing impatient, Matthew noticed a long, broken limb near the outline of the trees and sat down to wait. It seemed like an hour, but in truth, only twenty minutes had passed. A gentle breeze disturbed his hair. Not uncomfortably warm, Matthew still felt perspiration on his brow.

  Alert to any and all sounds, he presumed Madelene had found a way to arrange a horse and carriage to meet him. Any moment now, he expected to hear a horse’s hooves and carriage wheels on the road.

  His own borrowed dappled horse, King, tied to a tree, moved about restlessly. Could the horse sense something amiss? What could happen? In short order, he’d have the dagger in hand, then ride back to the inn. A beer would be very welcome taste on his palate along with the taste of success.

  His hands clasped in front of him, propped on his thighs, he imagined the scene with Madelene. She would probably plead for him to take her with him again, perhaps even use tears for effect. But he could do nothing more for her. She was married. He still could not believe Gabriel Westcott had actually taken his sister for his wife, but so be it. She seemed well looked after. Truly, everything had turned out better than he had planned.