Chapter 8
“Wherein hearts, minds and the future become tangled.”
Sebastian ignored Jeffries’ dark look as he left the stables the next day, but the warning was harder to dispel.
He’d considered not going to meet Georgiana today, and dismissed the idea a bare second later.
He’d have to say goodbye to her very soon in any case, but he wouldn’t hasten the day.
The very idea of leaving and never seeing her again made an ache bloom in his chest that he was having trouble identifying.
He’d never had a problem ending love affairs before.
Why it should suddenly become a problem now, he couldn’t fathom.
He drew Azor up and looked over the rugged view spread out before him. He liked the landscape here, as uncompromising as it was. It had a harsh beauty that appealed to him, and now, all dressed in autumn colours, it was the perfect backdrop for his fiery Georgiana.
He felt that strange ache in his chest again and rubbed at it with the heel of his hand.
If only she was from a better family. He could have overlooked her lack of fortune, he had wealth enough after all.
But he couldn’t ignore the responsibility he bore the family name.
In any case his mother would have one of her spasms and probably never recover if he had the temerity to bring home a mere doctor’s daughter.
The dowager duchess had already given him a list of eligible women.
It was what had driven him to try to make a list of his own.
In the end, however, he had been forced to concede that the next duchess would likely be as plain and dull as she was well bred.
Their kind didn’t marry for love though, for power and land and money, but never for love.
It was his duty, a duty that had been driven home to him since he had been old enough to understand the concept, and he wouldn’t shirk it.
No matter if it made him sick to the stomach.
But anticipation stirred in his blood as he arrived at their meeting place and he leapt down, loosening Azor’s girth and leaving him to crop the grass while he paced, waiting impatiently for Georgiana to arrive.
Looking up at the soft sound of footsteps he watched as she appeared out of the tree line.
With red tinted leaves tumbling around her and the countryside glowing copper and gold, she looked like the goddess of autumn with her Titian curls framing her face.
He felt his breath catch, and as she walked closer with Conrad bounding around her feet and barking with joy, he felt he would forever remember this moment, a memory caught in amber that he would carry with him for the rest of his days.
He held out his hands and she ran to meet him, holding out her own, but when she drew close, he swept her up, laughing and spinning her around.
When he put her down, she stumbled, dizzy and delighted as he pulled her close.
Staring at those hazel eyes so full of laughter, and her cheeks prettily flushed and with the faintest scattering of freckles, he knew leaving her would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“What is it?” she asked, reaching a hand up to his cheek. He leaned into it, turning his head to kiss her palm and shaking his head.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she said, her voice quiet. “You were thinking that you must leave soon.”
Her quiet acceptance of it made his heart clench. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, surprised at how gruff he sounded.
“I don’t want to think about it either,” she said, and he could hear the sorrow in her voice. “But you will go, and ... and I won’t see you again. I know that ...”
“Don’t!” he cried out and turned away from her, running a hand through his hair.
He felt her hand on his shoulder, felt it slide down his arm, until her soft fingers wrapped around his.
“Come, Beau. I will weep for a long time after you’ve gone, I promise you.
But there is no point in pretending it will be otherwise.
We knew it from the start, after all. A marquess has no business marrying a girl with no name and no fortune.
You must go and find yourself a wealthy heiress, and I will content myself with the idea she will be dull and ugly. ”
He heard the catch in her voice, heard the effort she was making to be light hearted, no doubt thinking she would disgust him if she wept over him and pleaded for him to stay.
Indeed, if she had been any other of his lovers, she would have been perfectly correct.
But now he wanted her to cry and beg him to stay, because he wanted to do it, foolish as it was.
He wanted to stay so badly that it frightened him, and Jeffries’ words came back to haunt him all over again.
He wished, apart from anything else, to hear her say his name.
How foolish he had been to want to be Beau, to want her to know from the outset that he wouldn’t care for her, that he would likely ruin her and move on.
Not that he was doing anything other than that.
He was toying with her life, her future.
If he truly cared for her, he would go away now, before he did any more damage. But he was far too selfish after all.
He turned around and saw sadness glimmering in the pretty hazel eyes that stared up at him.
“I will never, never forget you,” he whispered. “I swear it.”
She smiled and stepped closer to him, one hand pressed against his chest. “I’m glad, for I could never forget you either. I ...” She stopped with a blush staining her cheeks and looked down.
“What?” he demanded, tilting her head back to look at him, wanting her to say it, even though it was selfish and cruel to take any more from her.
She shook her head and smiled at him, though it was forlorn.
“No,” she said, and the teasing look he loved so well gleamed in her eyes now.
“You are quite conceited enough I think, without giving you another victory.” She gave him a coquettish look before walking away a little, glancing at him over her shoulder. “It’s not as if you don’t know it.”
He ran after her and tumbled her down into the grass as she laughed and pretended to fight him off.
“Release me, you fiend,” she huffed, pretending to be cross with him as he pinned her down and desire rose through him like a tide. She stilled, seeing the truth of it in his eyes.
“No,” she whispered, reading him with ease. “You know I cannot.”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her, or to argue the fact.
He simply ducked his head and kissed her, relishing the way she responded to him, knowing she kissed like she did because he had taught her well.
The idea that she would one day practise such skills on another man-made fury and jealousy ignite in his blood and he held her tighter.
Forcing her knees apart with his own he settled between them, letting her feel the weight of him as he kissed her with rising need, as though he would cease to be if he stopped now.
He moved his lips from her mouth and trailed a path down her jaw, down her neck, hearing her breathing coming fast and hot against his skin.
His mouth moved on, restless, seeking, as he found the soft swell of her breasts and trailed his tongue over the silky mounds.
Dropping one hand he gathered up the soft muslin of her dress in his fingers and tugged it higher, exposing her skin until her skirts revealed one shapely thigh. His hand slid over her knee, moving over her skin and slipping under the fabric as she caught her breath.
“No,” she murmured, sounding troubled and restive as she writhed beneath him, pushing his hand away. “Please, Beau.”
Sebastian, he raged inwardly, my name is Sebastian. Though he didn’t stop but shook off her grasp and allowed his questing fingers to explore beneath her skirts, shifting his position until he sought out the little thatch of curls between her thighs as she gasped in shock.
“Please don’t,” she whispered, clutching at his arm as he looked down at her, seeing desire in her eyes just as fierce as his own. If he was any kind of gentleman, he would stop now.
“Please, love,” he begged, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Let me touch you.”
She swallowed and stilled, and though he hated himself he was driven to continue, seeking out the tiny nub of flesh that would bring her pleasure.
Caressing, touching her so, so gently, he felt her breathing hitch as he returned his lips to hers, kissing her again.
Tenderly this time, he explored the silky warmth of her mouth as her breathing grew more ragged, as her body twitched and shifted beneath him.
“Do you like that?” he whispered against her mouth as he slid one finger inside her, caressing still with small, careful movements.
“I ...” she began and stopped, staring up at him, fear and desire tangled together in her eyes. He watched her as the pleasure began to build, as her eyes grew hazy and she moaned, small, urgent sounds that made his own body tighten further.
“Let go,” he urged, desperate to see her pleasure.
He would have this much from her at least, before he left.
“Let it take you over.” He spoke the words against her skin as he slid another finger inside her and felt her body respond.
She was slick and hot, and he was so desperate to sink inside of her and find his own release, but he continued to stroke and caress as her body sang with tension.
She clutched at him, one hand pulling at his hair as her head tilted back and she arched beneath him.
Her body clenched around his fingers as she bucked and gasped and cried out and desire sang through him as he watched her come apart in his arms.
***
Georgiana fought for breath, gasping as pleasure and panic rolled over her in equal measure.
She no longer knew what kind of creature she was, and felt betrayed, somehow, by her own skin.
She had known he was going too far, taking too much and yet her flesh had demanded that he continue as he invaded her most intimate places.
She knew now, how it was he had gained such a reputation.
For even as every argument for good sense had been put forth by her poor, desperate mind her body had rejected them with no more than a feeble protest passing her lips.
Even now, with the traces of pleasure still fizzing in her veins and her body languid and sated, it wasn’t enough.
There was a strange, dull ache inside her, a hollow feeling that hungered for more, for him.
Instinctively she knew this was ground she could not set foot upon if she didn’t want to end her days alone.
If she gave herself to him, she would be ruined and no matter that the desire to do just that burned like a brand inside her. That she couldn’t do.
She tried to sit up, to push him away but he was too heavy, and she stilled, suddenly afraid. Not afraid of him, but afraid of what she would allow him if he continued to persuade her in such a fashion, for she had no defence, no argument to pit against such voluptuous enticements.
He was staring down at her, such need in his dark eyes that her heart began to thunder as it just had when he had mastered her own flesh.
“Please, Beau,” she begged, feeling tears spring to her eyes. “No more, please.”
She looked up at him and saw the desperation, the raw desire to take her, fighting with whatever care he may have for her. In the end he rolled away and lay on his back with a curse and she let out a shaky breath.
“I want you,” he said, his voice heavy with all the same sensations that rolled over her skin at his words.
“I want you too,” she whispered. “But we cannot be together, and I must be a virgin when I wed. I can’t ...”
“I know!” he shouted. She jumped, shocked by the anger in his words.
Without another word she sat up, intending to leave now, while she still could but he reached out and grasped her hand, yanking her to him so she fell across his chest. “Would you leave me now?” he demanded.
“Leave and not come back? Is that what you intend?”
She gasped at the fury in his eyes and shook her head, even though she had thought just that. This was too dangerous, he was too dangerous. “N-no ...” she stammered.
“Liar!” The accusation made her jolt with alarm, but she had no time to react as he rolled her onto her back once more, finding his place between her legs.
Grasping her thigh, he pulled it around his hip and pressed himself against her, rocking against her tormented flesh.
She could feel the hardness of him sliding over her as he moved and desire blazed to life beneath her skin like a spark hitting kindling, devouring it all in a fierce burn that left nothing behind but ashes.
“You want this,” he said, his dark eyes treacherous with passion. “You want me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.” She blinked up at him, willing him not to take it any further. For even as she knew she would struggle to deny him, it would break her heart to know he held her so cheap.
She saw the moment he realised it in his own eyes. With regret he moved away, though he pulled her with him and held her close in his arms.
“It’s like a kind of madness,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ve never known it feel this way before.”
“Truly?” she looked down at him, wanting to believe she wasn’t like all the others. But wasn’t that what all the women before her had thought, that they were different, special. But he would leave her the same way he had left each of them. Moving onto the next challenge, the next conquest.
He grasped her face in one large hand and she saw desperation in his eyes. “I feel like I will lose my mind when I leave you.”
She tried to smile at him, but her heart was too numb to make it work as it should. “I’d settle for your heart,” she replied, tracing a finger over his lips.
“You have it,” he said, and the words were angry and urgent. “You have it all.”