Chapter Nine
Later that night, the wind howled against the cottage shutters, rattling them in their frames. Rain drummed on the roof, a steady staccato that made the fire’s warmth all the more precious.
Penelope sat cross-legged on the rug before the hearth, her skirts tucked haphazardly around her, a steaming mug of cocoa in her hands.
Edward sat beside her, utterly enchanted.
The firelight painted her cheeks a rosy glow, catching on the tumble of curls that had escaped her braid. She looked nothing like the poised daughter of a duke. She was relaxed yet full of the very essence that made her Penelope. She was completely at ease in her surroundings and circumstances.
Simply put, she was the epitome of beauty.
Edward feared he knew his fate as the minutes passed. He would combust before the fire did.
“You’re staring,” she said, not looking up.
“You are imagining things,” he replied.
She sipped, then licked a trace of cocoa from her lip. “Hmm.”
His jaw clenched as his entire body hardened.
“I may not have mastered the pumping of water, but the chocolate I made is satisfactory.” She smiled. “Don’t you agree?”
“Hmm,” he grunted in answer.
“Hmm? I already said that. Is that your only commentary about all my hard work?” Through a narrow gaze, she grinned at him. “You’ve been grumpy all day,” she said lightly. “Was it the porridge? Or perhaps the students calling you ‘my lord handsome’ behind your back?”
“They did not,” he muttered.
“Oh, they did,” she teased, eyes dancing. “One of them asked if we’d be giving a demonstration of married life in the cottage.”
“I hope you told her absolutely not,” he growled. This was not a subject they needed to discuss.
Not tonight.
Her grin widened. “I did, but only because you would not be a willing participant.”
Edward set his mug down with a thud. “Penelope.”
“What?”
“There’s something you should know.” He ran a hand through his hair. How to inform her about the stranger without scaring her needlessly? He just had to reassure her that he would stay here until everything was safe. “Last night, when we kissed…”
“Yes?” She leaned forward, obviously hanging on his every word.
He released a heavy sigh. There was only one way to do this, and that was to be honest and tell her everything. “There was a man at the inn.”
Before he continued, she nodded. “The one who wore spectacles and had very little hair. He was about half my size.”
Of course, she would have seen him. It was her nature. Pen always took stock of her surroundings if she was unsure or thought people would be unnecessarily cruel to her. It was how she protected herself. He tightened his fists at everything she had suffered in her life.
If he could, Edward would have liked to have been at every one of those events and fought her battles for her. But as a tutor, his actions held little sway, especially with those people.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Last night, when I needed some air, I went outside for a walk. He was here, spying on our cottage.”
Her eyes widened, and she carefully replaced her cup on its saucer and set it on the nearby table. She twisted her fingers together, a tell that she was upset. “Are you certain?” she asked in a soft voice.
Edward nodded.
“Who is he, and what does he want?” She placed one hand on her lap, then covered it with her other in an attempt to keep herself from twisting her fingers. But her fear was obvious if the white of her knuckles was any indication.
“I don’t know, Pen,” he said softly, hoping to soothe her. But how could he? She was sitting too far away from him, but perhaps this was for the best. He shouldn’t take her in his arms.
If only things were different. Even if he couldn’t have her, he would lay down his life for her. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still rough. He studied his hands. “I wonder if it has anything to do with Lord Draven.”
“George?” she asked, then bit her lower lip.
“At your house, he threatened me. He was leaving when I was on my way to see you. He told me that nothing would stand in his way of having you as his wife.” He forced the rest of the words out. “Including me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You must be mistaken.” She glanced down at her hands, then slowly lifted her gaze to his.
“He finds me lacking in every way possible except as an heiress. He would be the last man I would consider ever marrying.” Her voice softened into a whisper.
“He’s not like you. He never seemed interested in me.
He never looked at me the way that you do. ”
“What way is that?” Heaven help him, but if she leaned even an inch closer, he would devour her.
She swallowed. “Like I mattered.”
“Oh, Pen, never doubt that you mean everything.” To hell with not touching her. He drew near and placed his hand on top of hers. “He’s a fool if he doesn’t see your worth and significance.”
“Thank you.” She inhaled deeply and straightened.
“But with the stranger roaming around here, it’s best I stay until you’re safe.”
Her gaze shot to his.
“I still plan to return home when things are settled.” At the panicked look in her eyes, he continued. “However, I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
Her chin met her chest, and she squeezed his hand in return. “I think I’ll always need you.”
He nodded but didn’t dare answer that he needed her as much as she needed him, though in different ways. He wanted her in his life, every part of it.
“But I know that you have your own life to live.” She waved a hand in the air. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She lowered her voice. “Only you know how much I want to complete this task for my father.”
“I suspect that no matter how many miles or oceans are between us, our lives will always be entwined.” He gently lifted her chin until they stared into each other’s eyes.
“That’s the only way I would have it. But you must promise me that you’ll be on the lookout for that man.
I don’t think he’ll approach you if others surround you.
Be certain that you always have someone nearby.
A student. Miss Eloise. Another teacher. Me.”
“You make it sound as if he’ll kidnap me. Don’t be so dramatic,” she said teasingly. “That’s my forte.”
“Pen, promise me,” he said forcefully, ignoring her attempt at lightness.
“I promise. No matter what happens in the future when you go back to your students, no one will ever replace you in my life.” She swallowed hard and nodded once.
That simple statement stole his breath. If that was all he ever was to her, an irreplaceable friend, he would find a way to accept it.
And cherish it. Yet, his heart ached at such a thought.
How could he be in her life if she found the man of her dreams?
Heaven knew if she were his, he wouldn’t allow another man to get close to her.
Not unless that person treated her with the respect and kindness she deserved. If that happened, he would stand aside. He only hoped that her future would allow him to be in it.
“We were speaking of students earlier, and that reminds me of our previous conversation.” She leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Kissing. We should practice again.”
Every muscle in his body tightened, whether to flee or to pounce, it was hard to tell. “We shouldn’t.”
She tilted her head, which set a cascade of golden curls to brush against her shoulder. He wanted to grab those curls in his fist and pull her near. He nearly groaned when the neckline of her dressing gown dipped scandalously low after she’d shed her stays. “We already have.”
The air between them thickened. Edward dragged a hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
He knelt before her, the firelight throwing his tall shadow against the wall. “If I kiss you again, I won’t want to stop. And if I don’t stop—” His voice broke as his heart squeezed. “You deserve better than a man who can’t control himself.”
“Edward Thornton, do you truly think I’m afraid of your touch?
I’ve never been more curious in my life.
More importantly, I love that you can’t control yourself around me.
I want that. With you.” The sweet smile on her wet lips sent his pulse pounding through his veins.
“Besides, I can’t control myself around you, and I welcome it. ”
He groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. “I’m a tutor. I’ll ruin you.”
“I’m a teacher. Perhaps, I’ll ruin you. So, the only logical thing to do is ruin each other.” And then she kissed him, boldly and unashamedly.
His control shattered. His hands spanned her curves, drawing her closer, until she was straddling him on the rug. The fire popped, sparks flaring, but Edward was already lost to the warmth of her body and the taste of her lips.
When his mouth trailed down the delicate line of her throat, she gasped. “Edward—”
He froze, chest heaving. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
Her fingers threaded in his hair, tugging him back to her. “No. Don’t stop. This is breathtaking. Perhaps I should say you’re breathtaking.”
Edward watched her struggle with the same fierceness of emotion that stormed inside him, stronger than the howling wind that raged beyond the walls. He’d meant to keep his distance. To be honorable. To remember his promise to her father.
She turned her molten gaze to his, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed from heat and laughter. Every scrap of restraint he’d clung to unraveled.
“You’re glaring at the fire as though it’s insulted you,” she teased.
“I’m thinking,” he said, his voice low.
“Dangerous habit.”
“Not when it’s of you.”
The space between them changed, filled with an energy neither could ignore. She took a breath, a slight tremor in it. “Then perhaps,” she said softly, “you should act on your thoughts for once.”
He took her face in his hands. This kiss was gentle—testing—but it quickly grew deeper, becoming hungry and aching. Her hands moved up his chest, clutching his shirt as if to anchor herself steady.
“Penelope.” He murmured against her lips, and she smiled into the kiss.
The warmth of the fire wrapped around them both, the outside world vanishing into the storm.
When he drew back, breath ragged, he searched her eyes. “If we start this,” he said, “I won’t be able to stop.”
Her hand found his, steady and sure. “Then don’t. Make love to me.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then surrendered everything to her, all his objections and self-doubts and hesitation.
Every touch after that was reverent, unhurried.
They were simply two people finally letting go of fear, finding trust in the quiet rhythm of shared breath, the soft brush of fingertips, and the heartbeat of the fire.
He gently lowered her on the rug before the hearth while the storm’s fury outside only made the stillness between them more sacred.
“You have no idea what you do to me.”
Penelope smiled dreamily, her fingers tugging on his shirt and pulling him close, unmooring his restraint and resolve not to touch her. “On the contrary,” she whispered, “I think I know exactly what you mean. You do the same for me.”
After that, nothing could stop him. The rug became their bed, and the fire their witness.
He promised himself then and there to worship every curve she’d ever doubted.
He would whisper every unspoken truth he’d carried for years, until her laughter and sighs filled the cottage louder than the wind howling outside.