The Duchess’ Desperate Deal (Forged Alliances #2)

CHAPTER 31

THEY DESCENDED FROM the train at Wareham at half past noon. The coach he had arranged was waiting for them, ready to bring them the rest of the way to Ludlow Cove.

The first sight of The Marlowe confirmed that the cozy seaside inn was everything he had hoped for and more. Nestled against the rugged cliffs that bracketed the beach, at the end of Lulworth Cove high street, the inn, with its half-timbered facade, whitewashed walls, and intricate black beams, oozed charm and rustic elegance. Perfect for an idyllic tryst.

A hearty, middle-aged man spilled out of the inn’s heavy oak door to greet them.

“Mr. Sinclair?” he called to Gabriel. “We have been expecting you and your wife. I’m Mr. Marlowe, the innkeeper. Come in, come into the warmth. My boys will take care of your luggage.”

Gabriel helped Hannah to descend from the coach and led her down the flagstone path to the inn’s entrance. He ignored her questioning glance at the name the innkeeper had called him, and also their marital status. They had not discussed it, but it was obvious they would have to travel as husband and wife. No decent establishment would have them otherwise.

Ushered by the enthusiastic innkeeper, they entered a reception room with low ceilings adorned with rough-hewn wooden beams and a roaring hearth at the heart of the main hall. The room would have felt dark and heavy, but a row of leaded windows framed by diamond-shaped panes faced the sea and filtered sunlight into the cozy interior, casting warm, dappled patterns across the polished wood floor.

A plump, rosy-cheeked woman came out of a back room to greet them with a wide smile. Mr. Marlowe introduced her as his wife, and before Gabriel could introduce themselves, she launched into an enthusiastic greeting.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair! A pleasure to meet you. It is an honor that you have chosen our humble inn to spend your honeymoon. We will do all in our power to make your time here unforgettable,” she said with a knowing smile that had Hannah blushing.

She threw him another questioning gaze, and he grinned in response.

“We are delighted to be here, Mrs. Marlowe,” he replied with a charming smile.

“But come, come. You must be tired after all that traveling. Let me lead you to your rooms.”

She turned and put a hand over her mouth before announcing in a theatrical whisper, “We have assigned you the very best room in the inn. It has a wonderful view of the sea, and it’s at the end of the corridor, for privacy,” she added with a saucy wink.

Hannah was in danger of self-combusting with her blushes, but he was having great fun with Mrs. Marlowe’s frank conversation.

They reached the end of the corridor, and Mrs. Marlowe opened the door, ushering them into a cozy room with a huge leaded window. The furniture was simple, but solid. A big, canopied bed, two armchairs by the fireplace, and a small iron table with two chairs by the window. Presumably to take afternoon tea or breakfast. On the wall by the door, there was a huge wood armoire and a trunk with a padded top at the foot of the bed. The room was not luxurious by any standard, but it looked clean and cozy. He wondered what Hannah thought about it. She must be used to more opulent accommodations.

While they admired the room, Mrs. Marlowe opened another door.

“This is a bathing chamber,” she proudly announced. “We had it installed last year. It’s the only room in the inn that has a built-in bath. In truth, the only one in the whole town. Mr. Marlowe didn’t want to spend the money, but I insisted. Not only would it save us a ton of work lugging buckets of water upstairs, but it would be a nice convenience for our guests. It has been such a great success that we are planning to install another one next year.”

“This is excellent, Mrs. Marlowe.”

Two young men arrived with their luggage, and he instructed them to put it down by the wardrobe.

“Well, it’s time we leave you two lovebirds alone. I’ll send a tea service to tide you over until dinnertime. We serve dinner at eight. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring.”

With that, she turned and breezed out of the room. Gabriel locked the door behind her. Then turned to face Hannah.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“What would you rather I tell them?” he said, advancing on her. “That I’m your lover? That I’m trying to get you pregnant at the request of your dying husband, who also happens to be my natural father?”

Her eyes grew wide, and her chin trembled a little. He instantly regretted his blunt words. The hurt he saw in her eyes. Hell and damnation, but his heart was hurting too. Hurt by the need for pretense. Hurt that the story he had told the Marlowes was not the truth. It was the lie he wished was true more than anything in his life. Because from the moment he had introduced Hannah as his wife, a yearning had overwhelmed him. It overshadowed his mood. His every word. That was a hard realization, because for that to be possible... no. He would not think about that right now.

He went to her, enfolding her in his embrace. “I’m sorry, love. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But it’s the truth. Even if it sounds ugly. Oh, Gabriel. Are we doing the right thing? If I feel uncomfortable lying to our gracious hosts for a few days, how will I be able to live a lifelong lie? Maybe we shouldn’t...”

Panic seized him. No. She couldn’t back down now. He could not let her go. Not yet. Not ever. His arms tightened around her.

“It will be fine. It’s too late to turn back, anyway. You could be carrying my baby already.” As he said the words, emotion swelled in him. It looked a lot like possessive pride, but gentler, more tender. Tempered with caring and an overwhelming sense of belonging.

“We will figure it out together,” he rasped at last.

She lifted her face to him within the confines of his embrace. “But that is the thing. We can’t let anyone know about our liaison, so we won’t be together—”

“The hell we won’t,” he snarled. And then, hearing his tone, tried to soften his words. “Hannah, I know we can’t let the world know the real parentage of the child we may have. But you and I will know. And I will never abandon my child, or you. I will always be nearby. Protecting. Caring.”

Too many emotions flashed through her eyes. Fear. Longing. Doubt. Love? No, he surely was deluding himself. Their coming together was a means to an end. Just because he had developed feelings didn’t mean she had. He would do well to remember that. Before he lost his heart forever.

A knock sounded at the door, and they jerked apart before remembering that, here, it was perfectly fine to be caught embracing. Their hosts would even expect it, since they were supposed to be newlyweds.

He opened the door and allowed a maid to come in with a tea tray. The girl arranged everything on the small table by the window and left quietly. Hannah walked to the table and sat. As regal as if she were in a drawing room, she measured the tea and poured the water into the teapot.

“I just realized I don’t know how you take your tea.” She frowned, as if that minor detail bothered her.

Ah, but there were so many things she didn’t know about him. Would he share with her everything about his life? Probably, if she asked. He didn’t seem capable of denying her anything.

“Strong. Two spoonfuls of sugar, a splash of milk.” In truth, he didn’t favor tea, but he would drink it because she had prepared it for him.

Discarding his coat and unbuttoning his waistcoat, he took a seat at the table. She cut a quick glance at him but didn’t comment on his state of dishabille. Her delicate hands moved with practiced efficiency, preparing his cup of tea.

Heaving a sigh, he took a sweet mini tartlet from the top tier of the tray and presented it to her.

She shook her head. “You must start from the bottom. With the sandwiches.”

“Ah, but what fun is it to follow someone else’s arbitrary rules?”

“It’s the proper order of flavors.”

“According to whom?” he replied, popping the mini tartlet in his mouth only to irritate her.

She frowned in mock outrage. “You, sir, delight in breaking the rules.”

He grinned. “Guilty as charged. In fact, I’m about to break the rules even more. I have an idea.”

He jumped up from his chair and went to the bathing chamber. After turning the knobs on the bathtub, it started filling with hot water.

“Are you going to take a bath now?” she inquired, puzzled. “Your tea will be quite cold by the time you finish your bath.”

“No. We are going to take a bath. While enjoying our tea.”

Her mouth fell open in bafflement. “You are an endless fountain of wicked ideas,” she declared at last, but he detected a hint of excitement in her gaze.

“Thank you, I try,” he replied with mock seriousness.

Her gurgle of laughter was all the permission he needed. He lifted the small table and carried it, together with the tea tray, into the bathroom. Then he slowly stripped both of their clothes off until they were both naked and sank happily into the hot water.

The tea definitely tasted better when enjoyed while holding her slippery, naked body in his arms. And although the warm biscuits looked delicious, her breasts were a more tempting morsel over which to spread the cream. He slathered a generous amount over the delicate orbs, placing a little dollop of jam over the pink nipples.

She straddled and rode him while he made sure he lapped up every bit of cream and jam from her delicious breasts. It was the finest meal he had ever had. Thank goodness the bath was big enough. With all her thrashing and squirming, they ended up splashing water over the edge.

The only reason they bothered to attend dinner at all was because, by that time, they both needed sustenance. He couldn’t keep himself from devouring her for dessert, enjoying her at his leisure. Taking her again and again until they had collapsed in each other’s arms.

His appetite for her seemed insatiable. He refused to feel guilty over it, for she seemed equally enthusiastic. Maybe the ephemeral nature of this time they had carved out of their lives to be together fueled a desperate urgency in their lovemaking. The fear that one day, perhaps soon, this feast of love they enjoyed would end, and they would starve.

AT LAST, HE HAD GOTTEN his wish. As the first rays of the sun filtered through the drapes, filling the cozy room with a soft glow, Gabriel indulged his eyes on the sight of Hannah’s face resting on the pillow next to him. Falling asleep with her in his arms had been a delight. Waking up next to her, magical. His breath caught at the sheer perfection of the moment.

How many times had he imagined it? And yet his imagination paled compared to the reality. Her delicate features, so soft and vulnerable in sleep, were the most lovely sight he had ever contemplated.

Before he could check his movement, his fingers had captured a lock of pale hair that had fallen across her cheek. Marveling at the silken texture of the rioting loose curls that reflected every shade of gold, he rubbed it between his fingertips, smiling.

She would fret at having fallen asleep with her hair loose. Would complain at the difficulty of taming it this morning, especially without her maid. Soon she would realize the futility of trying to keep her hair perfectly coiffed while they were here. He preferred her mane loose and wild and would take every opportunity to undo her hair and brush his fingers through it. And when he didn’t do it, the sea breeze would take care of it.

She sighed and turned in her sleep. The sheet slipped, revealing one timid nipple peeking up at him. He groaned. Oh, how he ached to kiss her pearly skin, lower the blankets to uncover the sweet orbs of her breasts. She would be warm and soft from sleep, and he would take his time arousing her awake...

No. He should let her sleep. She needed to recover from last night’s activities. The memory had the double effect of making him smile and get hard at the same time. Quite the feat. But then, his body did respond in disconcerting ways around her.

Before his will broke and he gave in to the impulse to awaken her, he got out of bed, washed, and dressed for the day. He would ask Mrs. Marlowe for a picnic basket for breakfast and directions to a suitable spot.

He could spend all day, every day of their holiday, locked in this room, making love to her. But the funny thing was, as much as he enjoyed making love to her, spending time with her out of bed was just as enjoyable. With Hannah, he wanted everything. All her moments, all her facets.

And that was the biggest surprise—and the biggest danger—of all.