Chapter Fifteen
“A re you all right?” With a concerned glance at Tessa, Chase pulled the pistol out from beneath his coat and shoved it down between the seat and the side of the carriage. Then he removed his gloves and tossed them onto the seat beside him. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to pull you off the man.”
“You should have let me go.” Her voice was still hoarse and shaking. “I would have scratched his eyes out!”
“I know. But then how would he be able to see to put his story down on paper for us to show to the Secretary of War?”
“But he won’t,” she half-whispered, shrinking back into the squabs. Even in the shadows of the dark compartment, lit only faintly by the carriage’s lamps, he could see how her face had paled. “He won’t help us. He said so.”
“But I think he will.” Chase leaned across the compartment and removed her hat, tossing the ridiculous thing to the floor. “Down deep, he wants to help us, or he would never have met with us in the first place. He would have told Bates he knew nothing about it, and it would have all ended right there.”
“Then why did he say he wouldn’t?”
He gave a faint shrug as he unbuttoned her coat and loosened the collar to make it easier for her to breathe. “He wants to do the right thing by the general and you, but he’s afraid. I don’t blame him. He probably went through hell during the wars, and now that he’s home and living a stable, calm life, the last thing he wants is to jeopardize that. At the very least, helping you will cast his life into upheaval.”
“But telling the truth is the right thing to do.” Her voice was so small that fresh worry curled through him. He knew when she wanted to scratch out Williamson’s eyes that she would be fine. The fire and fight in her proved it. But seeing her so small and vulnerable like this… this made him worry. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes.” The single word brooked no doubt of it.
“Then how do we convince him of that?”
Chase fought down a smile. She still had fight in her. “Most likely, it will take money.” He added with a long sigh, “A lot of money.”
When he began to sit back on his seat, she grabbed his hand and stopped him. Her watery eyes gleamed in the shadows. “Do you believe Williamson? Do you believe what he said about Hambledon’s advance and the missing orders is true?”
“I do.” He squeezed her hand.
Instead of pulling away, she laced her fingers through his, and his heart thudded. She had held his hand like this before in the tavern. Now, though, it was just the two of them, alone in the shadows, where this simple touch created a whole new level of intimacy.
“I can’t understand,” she choked out. “Papa never said one word about orders not being sent. He let the general command blame him…and he just…he just accepted it.” She swallowed hard. “Why would he do that?” Her voice broke as she fought to keep back her tears. “Why wouldn’t he defend himself?”
“Because your father was a good soldier, and a good soldier never questions his commanders. It’s anathema to everything he believed in and everything he had dedicated his life to, even after the wars ended. That’s why.”
“That’s a stupid reason.” A tear slipped from her eye.
He slowly brushed it away with his thumb. “It’s a very honorable one.”
But her tears didn’t stop, and she turned her head away as she began to sob. Her slender shoulders shook beneath the ridiculously large coat which made her seem even smaller, even more vulnerable.
“Shh,” he murmured as he slid onto the bench next to her and took her shoulders to gently turn her toward him. “Don’t cry, Tessa. I can’t bear it.”
“You must have seen…hundreds of women…cry in the wars,” she forced out between sobs. “Surely, you’re…used to it.”
“Not your tears.” He cupped her face between his palms and did his best to wipe them away from both cheeks with his fingertips, but the desolate expression on her beautiful face was piercing. “Your tears will break me.”
She closed her eyes and nodded, as if she could stop her tears simply by willing it so. He knew better. Her pain went too deep, right down to her soul. And he knew that, because so did his.
He leaned in and kissed away the salty tears clinging to her spiked lashes. “We’ll find a way to convince Williamson to testify to the truth,” he murmured, his lips lingering against her eyelids. “You have to believe that.”
“And do you believe that?”
Instead of answering, he placed a soft kiss to her lips. The true answer would have devastated her. He couldn’t believe all would be right in the end, because in his life, it never had been.
Her breath hitched, and the little sound reverberated through him, landing low in his gut with an aching thud. He gently brushed both hands over her forehead and temples, smoothing back her hair that had come loose from the hat.
“Is this how you comforted women in the wars,” she whispered, “by kissing away their tears?”
With a self-deprecating grimace, he admitted, “Among other things.”
She fisted his lapels in her hands, and her watery eyes stared up at him beseechingly. “I need those other things, too, Chase. Please, I want… Hold me.”
She had no idea how dangerous her request was. He knew better, God help him, he knew …
But he held open his arms.
She went to him, pressing herself against his chest so tightly that he could feel the pounding of her heart, the rise and fall of each shaking breath. He wrapped her within the circle of his arms and nuzzled his mouth against her hair. The sweet scent of her was intoxicating, so was the pliant softness of her body arching into his and the way her fingers played in the short hair at his nape, as if she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.
She turned her head to brush her lips across his cheek and down to his mouth, and a low groan rose from him. But the sound of his hard-won restraint only seemed to encourage her, her lips teasing delicately at his, cajoling him to deepen the kiss.
When his mouth softened beneath hers, she sighed against his lips.
Her innocent reaction flared a fire in his gut that couldn’t be ignored, and he captured her mouth beneath his with a blistering kiss that left both of them breathless. Yet it wasn’t desire he tasted on her lips—it was need. The same need that raged inside him, the same need that begged to be satisfied.
He slid his hand up her back and shoved his fingers into her hair, holding the back of her head still as he ravaged her kiss. He thrust his tongue between her lips and took long, greedy sweeps across her slick inner lip and deep into the sweet recesses of her mouth. He dueled with her tongue until she dared to kiss him back the same way, until she slid her tongue between his lips to tease and taste as he’d done to her. When her lips closed around his tongue and sucked, she drew another groan from him. But this one wasn’t one of restraint, and when he pulled her onto his lap, her soft gasp of surprise ricocheted through him with a jolting pleasure.
“Touch me,” she whispered against his lips and stroked her fingertips encouragingly over his cheek. She hesitated, then confessed, “Make the pain go away…please.”
He gladly obliged by slipping his hand along her front in feathery touches across her belly and over her bosom. The contradiction of her satin ball gown beneath the coarse wool coat was strangely provocative, as contradictory as the woman herself whose unschooled innocence only made her more enthralling. Unable to resist, he cupped her breast and massaged her as firmly as her gown and undergarments allowed.
A whimper of frustration rose on her lips. “ Touch me,” she panted out the order against his mouth as she arched herself against him, “like you did before, when you kissed…”
When he’d kissed her between her thighs the night of the storm. He wanted to do exactly that again, too, but too many layers of clothing lay between him and her bare body, the damnable tent of a coat in the way. Not breaking the kiss as it continued to grow in intensity, he grabbed her lapels and pulled the coat open—
She broke the kiss and frowned down at him, the remnants of her tears still visible in her glistening eyes. “What are you doing?”
“This.” He pulled the coat off her shoulders and down her back, stripping it off her until it draped at her hips. “And this.” His hands made quick work of the short row of pearl buttons at her back. Her bodice gapped loosely over her bosom, and he tugged the capped sleeves down to bare her shoulders. “And especially this,” he murmured as he placed his mouth on the top swells of her breast. “Isn’t this what you want me to do?”
“I want…oh, yes…” Her words melted into an incomprehensible whisper of permission and plea as his hands pulled loose the tie of her short corset and his mouth nudged down her stays, until only her thin chemise lay between his lips and her breasts. Their delicate points rose alluringly toward him with each deep breath she took, and he capitulated to their temptation, lowering his head to take one of the little nipples between his lips through the cotton.
He teased at her, sucking and licking and nibbling in turn, not to drive her mad with desire but to find the solace they both sought. He wanted to bring her pleasure, to wipe the tears from her eyes and the sorrow from her beautiful face, to make her feel safe and secure. He craved the same from her.
She gripped at his shoulders to keep herself perched sideways on his lap in the rocking carriage and naively wiggled her bottom against him, unwittingly hardening his cock in her desperation to ease the need aching between her thighs. God help him, he wanted to bury himself inside her and feel her body clench greedily around his, to move within her as she arched against him, to let a shattering release consume them both. He wanted to wipe away her pain, and by doing so, take away a small bit of his own.
But he couldn’t do that— wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t take her innocence, and certainly not in a carriage like some blackguard. She deserved better, no matter how much he wanted to possess her. But he could do something to ease her pain, at least. So he closed his hands around her hips and lifted her off his lap, placing her on her feet before him.
Her eyes blinked rapidly in the shifting shadows as she stared down at him, an expression of instant desolation marring her face. “It’s all right if you don’t want—”
He darted up to give her a hard kiss. As he settled back down, he grabbed the hem of her gown and lifted it up her legs to her waist. “I do want,” he answered, not tearing his eyes away from hers. I want…you. He tugged her back down, guiding her to straddle his hips. “Very much.”
Tessa sat facing him, perched on his slightly spread thighs, her stocking-clad legs dangling beneath her. But she had no time to be embarrassed because he placed his hands on her knees and slid them up her inner thighs. When his thumbs touched the silky folds between her legs, her breath caught, then eased out in a ragged sigh.
“You’re wet,” he murmured, awestruck.
Embarrassment marred her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He leaned forward to silence her with a kiss. “That’s a good thing,” he rasped out, his voice husky. “Because it lets me do this.”
He slid his thumb along the cleft between her legs in a long, silken glide, and she trembled, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.
“And this.” He teased his fingers against her folds, fondling her in both gentle yet wanton caresses. “And especially this.”
His slipped a single finger into her tight warmth.
Tessa inhaled sharply at the unexpected sensation of having him inside her, and her body tensed, the little muscles clenching around him. She had never imagined a man would ever touch her like this, and the sheer intimacy of it stunned her. That it was Chase, of all men… There wasn’t time to fathom it because he had begun to move inside her, sliding his finger slowly back and forth in tantalizingly smooth glides.
With each gentle push forward and slow withdrawal, her tension slowly eased, replaced by a growing heat rising inside her. She remembered that torturously sweet ache from their encounter in the garden and wasn’t afraid or confused by it now. But now she also knew that it could transform into something more than just an ache, something both utterly wicked and preciously divine. God help her, she wanted to claim that feeling again with him.
She slid forward on his lap to fold her bent knees on the seat and framed his hips with her thighs, which were spread shamelessly wide to grant him access to the aching heart of her.
Now perched over him, she lowered her head to take his bottom lip between her teeth and give him a playful nip, only to lose her own breath when a second finger wiggled inside her. This new invasion stretched her feminine lips even wider, but the sensation of being filled was wonderful. And when he pushed his fingers deep inside with a teasing twist—
A moan of need rose from her. In embarrassment at making such a wanton sound, she buried her face against his neck, with her arms wrapped tightly around him and her thighs clenching his hips.
“Do you like that?” he whispered hotly into her ear, his fingers not slowing in their wicked teasing. If anything, he had increased the intensity and speed of each thrust and retreat of his hand between their bodies.
“Yes…oh, yes…” It was simply heavenly!
“Then prove it to me.” He traced the tip of his tongue along the curl of her ear and rippled a hot shiver through her, then leaned back just far enough to gaze into her eyes. “Take the pleasure I want to give you, Tessa.”
“But you—”
He seized her mouth in a hungry, ravaging kiss, then finished, “Will find my own pleasure in yours, if you let me.”
Emboldened by his words, she began to move against his hand. At first, tentative little advances and retreats of her hips to control the way his fingers moved inside her. Then harder and faster, rising and lowering herself on her knees until she grabbed the seatback behind his head for leverage. He was murmuring soft words of encouragement to her, but she couldn’t understand a word, lost on a wave of her own rising desire.
He moved his hand to rub his knuckles against the sensitive little bud lying buried at the top of her folds.
“Chase!” she gasped as pleasure shot into her belly.
Desperate to capture the sensation again, she ground herself against his knuckles, and this time, the pleasure that burst through her was overwhelming. The tension that gripped her released in a tumbling wave of bliss that flashed stars before her eyes. He rose up and captured her mouth beneath his, smothering the cry that poured from her. She shook in his arms as she collapsed, boneless, against him, and his fierce kiss gentled into breathless touches of his lips to hers. His fingers slipped carefully from her wet warmth but lingered to caress soothingly between her thighs.
He wrapped both arms around her and pressed her securely to his chest, then nuzzled her ear. “Better?”
“Yes,” she breathed, unable to find her voice as residual waves of pleasure lapped at her toes. “Heavenly.”
His low chuckle tickled her ear, but the sound was tense, not at all relaxed.
“But not for you.” She pulled away from him just far enough to gaze down into his face. His expression was strained.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.” She knew he wasn’t, and why, and slid her hand down his front toward the bulge at his crotch to prove it.
He grabbed her wrist just as her fingertips grazed the kerseymere of his breeches. “Don’t.” He softened the rough word by bringing her hand to his lips to place a kiss to her palm. “If you touch me there, I’ll stop being a gentleman.”
“Then be a soldier instead,” she taunted, slipping her hand from his grasp and once more running it down his front. “I’m certain a soldier knows what to do to find comfort in a woman.”
He grabbed her hand again, stopping her just as she reached his belly, and pressed her hand against his abdomen. Beneath her fingers, the hard muscles flexed as his breathing turned shallow and fast.
“How do you know what soldiers do in the company of women?” he rasped.
“I’m a general’s daughter. I’m not as innocent as you think.” To prove her point, she leaned forward to outline his lips with the tip of her tongue and thrilled when she elicited a low groan of frustration from him.
“You’re exactly as innocent as I think,” he countered, his lips trembling as much as the rest of him. “And I intend to keep you that way. You’re going to marry Renslow, and I won’t do anything to interfere with that.”
She knew what he meant. She also knew the truth. “Robert won’t care if I’m innocent or not on our wedding night. That’s not why he’s marrying me.”
“ I’ll care when he calls me out in a duel.”
She curled her fingers into his abdomen and felt his breath hitch. “He’d never do that.” Then she admitted quietly, “He doesn’t care enough about me to be that jealous.”
“Then he’s a damned fool.” The intensity of his expression stole her breath away. “But I do care about you, Tessa. Enough to refuse you, no matter how much you tempt me.” He made quick work of retying her corset and buttoning her bodice. “And believe me when I tell you, that I have never before refused such an alluring woman as you.”
That compliment did nothing to ease the rejection squeezing her chest. Only a few moments ago, she’d been bubbling with happiness; now a cold emptiness ached inside her where an ache of desire had been.
He eased her off his lap and onto her feet in the swaying carriage. Around them, the buildings at the outer edge of Weymouth grew more numerous and closer together, the road they traveled turning from dirt to pavement. Now the gas lamps would light their way to the heart of the town and back to the ball.
He put down her skirts, his large hands pressing over her hips and thighs, not for a last, lingering touch, she knew, but to smooth out the worst of the wrinkles. Awkwardly not knowing what to do or say now, she moved to the seat across from him and fussed with her messed hair, doing her best with shaking fingers to pin it into place so it would look somewhat ordered when she returned to Lord Foxmoor’s ballroom. Where Chase would part from her. Most likely forever.
When the carriage turned onto the wide esplanade, only a few hundred yards from Foxmoor’s townhouse, Tessa folded her hands primly in her lap and whispered, “Don’t go to Spain. Stay here.” With me.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
He slowly shook his head. “There’s no future for me here. Any chance of that died three years ago.”
His words pierced her, but she kept her face carefully stoic, even as she nodded her understanding. What she wanted to do was scream.
The carriage stopped on the far side of the house, far enough away that no one would see her leave it.
She held out her hand to be helped to the ground.
“I can’t escort you inside,” he told her quietly.
Her chin rose. “Any other gentleman would.”
“We’ve already determined I’m not much of a gentleman.”
“Or much of a soldier.” She bit out the words before she could stop herself and rose to hurry from the carriage, alone.
He grabbed her arm and stopped her in the doorway. When she looked down at him over her shoulder, his eyes blazed like brimstone.
But she wouldn’t let him cower her. “If you stay here at Cuillin,” she began, “you can make—”
“If I stay,” he interrupted, his fingers flexing on her arm, “I’ll take your innocence, Tessa. I’ll seduce you just because I want to—and I very much want to.”
Her lips parted, stunned and wordless.
“And then I will still leave because I cannot survive here. Don’t you understand?” He released her arm but his eyes never left hers as he promised, “I will not ruin your life.”
She blinked hard, her eyes stinging with unshed tears, and whispered, “I think you already have.”
Then she was gone, out of the carriage and fleeing into the night toward the townhouse.