Sweet Torture Page 18

  “Lovely!” Olivia said brightly. She picked a sprightly tune about spring that they had played many times before together, and Lydia struggled to appear interested in the gathering.

  She sang and played with competence, but her heart was not in it. No one seemed to notice. An hour had passed, and Lydia contemplated complaining of a headache as Olivia and Colton took to the piano to sing a lovely song about lovers separated at sea. Another half hour passed, and then another as the mothers took their turn filling the air with an Irish ballad of longing. Lydia could sympathize. She kept sneaking peeks at Devon, but he was giving his full attention to the performance and paying her no attention at all. Her mood was getting blacker by the moment. She returned her attention to the mothers as they finished their set, when Olivia popped into her vision.

  “Lydia, you poor dear! You look positively exhausted. You should retire at once and never mind us. We shall continue our concert without you.”

  Lydia sat up awkwardly as all the eyes in the room turned to her. “Uh, if you think I should.”

  “Absolutely, I know you were caught in the rain today. I will never forgive myself if you caught a cold. Rest is precisely what you need.” Olivia took her elbow and escorted her to the door. “Now don’t worry about a thing. I will make it my mission that you not be disturbed.”

  Lydia found herself booted from the parlor. She looked around the hall in befuddlement as the pianoforte started up again. She slowly turned on her heel and looked around her. This was odd, very odd. Perhaps this was a ruse Devon concocted with Olivia? That was definitely something they would do. Her pulse quickened in anticipation as she climbed the stairs. She expected Devon to present himself at any moment.

  There were fewer candles than usual lighting the halls. Corners and alcoves were thrown into deep shadows. She walked slowly, searching for the slightest sound or movement to give Devon’s position away. Reaching the hall to her room, she looked around and paused, stepped closer to her door, and paused again.

  Nothing.

  Perhaps she was wrong, and Devon was still in the parlor with the others. Her heart sunk. She had been so befuddled by Olivia’s sudden urge for her to go to bed that she hadn’t looked for him. Oh well, she sighed, and resigned herself to sleep. She put her hand on the knob and twisted. Eyes on the ground as she entered, she closed the door behind her, and as she lifted her head, her mouth popped open.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Every surface of her room was covered with candles. Pink rose petals were strewn across the floor. The fireplace snapped and wavered cheerily with hungry flames. In the middle of her room sat a bath big enough for two, filled to the rim with bubbles and a very naked nobleman.

  “Devon!” She said with more breath than sound. Her eyes couldn’t take it all in. It was beautiful, magical, scintillating, and as wild as a fantasy come true.

  “There’s plenty of room for two,” Devon invited.

  His broad chest rose out of the water like a wicked god, and the light wavered over his dark hair in a mesmerizing fashion. Lydia was speechless, her feet rooted to the floor where she stood. She couldn’t stop looking at him, at his wet chest, at the layer of bubbles masking the promise of pleasure that lay beneath the water. Before she realized it, she was reaching for the back of her gown, but she couldn’t reach the blasted buttons at the top.

  “Do you need help?”

  She shook her head desperately. If he got out of the water, she might faint where she stood. Her heart beating wildly, her skin coming alive with arousal, she yanked at the back of her dress, and the tiny pearl buttons popped off and scattered.

  Devon’s eyes widened, but he said nothing as she hastily undressed down to her shift. She walked forward with wobbly knees, unable to take her eyes from his. As she stepped closer to the tub, Devon sat up then stood in the tub. Lydia kept her eyes trained on his.

  Wet fingers touched her hips and began to slowly pull up her chemise. With a whisper of silk, it was gone, and she was as naked as he and burning for his touch. He pulled her against him, his arousal searing her as it brushed her hip, and she took a quick breath.

  He swept her up into his arms and she gasped, “Devon, don’t!”

  “Shhh, I won’t drop you.” He lowered them into the hot water slowly until she was cradled in his lap, and they were both submerged to their shoulders.

  Their bodies slid against each other tauntingly as Lydia rearranged herself to lean back against his chest, her legs tangling with his. She closed her eyes tightly against the sensation of his skin against hers, her need for him surpassing anything she had felt before. She didn’t have the will to deny him her body, not this time.

  “This is really unfair,” she muttered in agitation.

  “Pardon?”

  She could feel his chest rumble with laughter against her back. “You are taking advantage of me and my desire for you. You’ve ambushed me in my room and made it impossible to resist you.”

  “I certainly hope so,” he said as he reached over the side of the tub to pick something up and brought it in front of her, caging her in his arms.

  Her breathing hitched when she saw the small box, her pulse kicking up rapidly, and her head swimming with the implications.

  Devon placed the box in her limp hand and curled her fingers around it. “Open it.”

  “I don’t think I can,” she admitted.

  Devon chuckled some more. “Take a deep breath and open the box. We’ve both waited much too long for this moment.”

  Fingers shaking, she shook off the excess water and opened the box. Nestled against a bed of white satin sat a ring. A large rectangular emerald surrounded by tiny chip diamonds winked at her in the candlelight. Devon took the box from her, held her still shaking left hand, and slid the ring onto her finger.

  “No more talking of the past, we can now look forward to our future. For the rest of our days, nothing will stand between us. We will share a home, a family, a heart. Will you consent to be my wife?”

  Lydia stared at the bright emerald, a match to the color of Devon’s eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. She turned back to look at him, and he caught her mouth in a kiss. Her body slithered against his as she turned to face him, stretching out against him. There were so many things she wanted to say, but mere words seemed insignificant to express all that she was feeling.

  Devon smiled against her lips. “I don’t believe I heard you. Was that a yes?”

  “Yes.” Lydia smiled in return.

  “Pardon?” He tilted his head in question.

  “I said yes, you impudent rogue.” She licked his bottom lip.

  He shook his head. “It must be my ears, or perhaps my advanced age, but I still did—”

  “Yes!” She cried and pulled his head to hers. She was smiling as she kissed him, her heart and body so full of love and joy it felt as if it were bursting from her. “Now make love to me.”

  “That I heard,” he growled as he ran his hands over her smooth skin greedily. For a while, all that could be heard was the sloshing of bath water mixed with gasps and moans.

  They broke apart for air and found that they had splashed quite a bit of water onto the floor. “I think it’s time to vacate the tub,” Devon surmised.

  “I agree. My hands are wrinkling, and the water is getting cold.”

  Lydia slipped out first, followed by Devon. They buffed each other dry and then climbed onto the bed.

  “Would you like a glass of champagne?” Devon gestured to the bottle and glasses on her nightstand.

  “All I want is you, Devon. I haven’t had nearly enough to begin thinking about anything else.”

  Devon groaned. “That’s my girl.”

  They both leaned in again, each kiss as necessary as their next breath, and they let desire lead the way. Hands met warm skin and explored, tongues dueled endlessly, and words replaced moans and sighs.

  Devon laid Lydia back on the bed and trailed hot kisses from her neck to her nava
l. His fingers made lazy circles on her thighs, inching their way to her nest of curls. She wiggled anxiously as he tortured her slowly and deliberately. Sighing in satisfaction as he reached his destination, she opened her legs in invitation. He played with her soft flesh, teasing and stroking. He entered her, first one finger, and then two, and mimicked the rhythm with which he would soon plunder her body. She arched, hungry and aching for the thing only he could give her. It had been so long, and she wanted him so much that she couldn’t bear to wait anymore.

  “Devon, please!” she begged him.

  “Hush, Lydia, we have all night.”

  “But I need you now. I’ve waited too long already.”

  “What do you want, Lydia, tell me.” His voice was husky with his own need. It set fire to her blood.

  “I want you inside me, Devon. Now.”

  He took his hand from her and leaned over her. Bending one of her knees and pulling it up to her hip, he positioned himself at her entrance. Lydia reached up and brought her lips to his. She wanted to be as joined with him as physically possible, two hearts beating in unison, two bodies joined in pleasure.

  He thrust home as he took her mouth and absorbed her cry of shock. They had only made love once before, and that had been some time ago. She felt full of him, stretched and claimed. He moved slowly, letting the slickness of her arousal soothe her flesh and ease his penetration. As he continued to move inside her, her passion built again, and she began to move with him. This was what she had wanted all along, a claiming, a burning desire, and a love that could not be denied. She wrapped her arms around him, both overjoyed and overwhelmed by the moment. He was now hers, and she was his.

  He moved inside her like a constant force, pushing her to the precipice of climax. Molten heat spread through her body, setting little fires in her skin until she was consumed by it. She screamed as she came undone, her eyes closing tightly, and her nails digging into his skin. He followed her, groaning fiercely and collapsing on her in a heap of sweaty maleness. It was perfect. She wrapped her arms around him and floated back to earth, the sound of his breath in her ear and the feel of his beating heart against her chest. He moved to her side, his fingers tangling with hers, and they just looked at each other and smiled.

  “Never leave my side again,” he said as he finally regained his breath.

  “You’ll have to kill me first.”

  “When should we marry?”

  “Yesterday, preferably.” She stretched languidly.

  “If I could make it so I would, minx.” He tickled her hip.

  Lydia giggled happily. Nothing could tarnish this moment. She stared at him and burned the image of him, sweaty and rakishly disheveled, into her mind. She moved to turn on her side to face him, but as she twisted her hips, a stabbing pain burned through her abdomen.

  Chapter 24

  Ow!” she cried out. She put a hand to her lower stomach.

  “What’s wrong?” Devon asked anxiously.

  Lydia panicked. The pain was ebbing but she was afraid to move. “I don’t know ah… Could you please go get my mother and give us a moment of privacy?”

  Now Devon looked worried. “You want me to fetch your mother? What is wrong? Where does it hurt?”

  Lydia tensed as he reached for her stomach. This was not the way she had planned to tell him, she knew she had taken a huge risk in not telling him, and now the whole magic of the evening would be ruined. What if something were wrong with the baby? Her skin turned to ice at the mere thought.

  “Devon, do you love me?”

  “Of course, Lydia, I love you more than anything.”

  “And I love you, Devon. Everything I have done in coming out here has been out of pure love. Now please, fetch my mother.”

  His eyes softened until she reached the end of her sentence, and then a worried frown knotted his brow. He nodded, threw on his robe, and did as she said.

  Lydia pulled one end of the sheet over her naked body. She did not care how obvious it was they had been making love. All she cared about was whether she had inadvertently hurt the baby. Her precious, fragile baby. It was a little piece of Devon she had carried around while her heart ached for him. If he had never returned, or scorned her and deserted her, she would have gone on with her life and loved him through their child. It was the root of her strength through the hardest months of her life.

  Her mother entered frantically. She closed the door behind her, and Devon had not followed her into the room.

  “What’s wrong, are you cramping? Bleeding?” She came immediately to Lydia’s side and took her hand.

  “I simply tried to roll onto my side and pain shot through me. What is it? Do you think the baby is harmed?”

  “I don’t know, dearest. We shall fetch a doctor at once, and he will examine you.” Her mother patted her hand and returned to the hall.

  From that point on, Lydia stared at the canopy and prayed. Her mother flitted in and out in a whir of anxious motion. Ann, Lady Lesley, brought her a cup of tea, but Lydia was too worried to drink it and too afraid to move. It felt like an eternity had passed before the doctor arrived, assisted by his wife who was also the village midwife.

  He had her move onto her back. She experienced no pain, and then he examined her. Margie, the midwife, held her hand through the ordeal and patted it reassuringly. Lydia had blushed her way through the discomfort and mortification of complete strangers seeing her unclothed. Once finished, he spoke with her mother and then turned to her.

  “I see no evidence of bleeding, but these things tend to be fragile. I recommend strict rest”—he looked around the room—“from all strenuous activities. Only time will tell if it is only a strained ligament or the beginning of a loss.”

  Lydia closed her eyes. Tears sprang forth and she fought them. She hated to hear that word, to hear even the suggestion of it. It was her greatest fear, and now all she could think about was that it would be her fault.

  “There, there, dear.” Margie squeezed her hand. “There is a lot of growing and stretching happening in your body. Some of it can be quite uncomfortable. I myself had three hearty boys, and at times, it was as if I were going to burst at the seams. Like the good doctor said, there is no blood, so give it time, and you will see that all will be fine.”

  Lydia nodded her thanks and rolled over under the sheet. She desperately wanted to believe the kind woman’s words. Her mother escorted the doctor and his wife out and then returned to her side. “Devon is waiting to speak with you. He is quite distraught.” Her mother picked up her hand and examined her betrothal ring. “I take it the two of you have made amends?”

  “Yes, but now I will have to tell him that I lied to him, and I kept our baby from him and now might be—” She couldn’t finish. It was too painful to say the words aloud.

  Her mother patted her shoulder and stood. “I’ll send him in. He has a good, strong heart. He may be angry, but in the end, you will bless him with a child. He can’t stay mad about that.”

  Lydia vehemently hoped so.

  Devon strode in and closed the door. He was visibly seething with anger. He had changed into clothing and paced the room like a caged animal.

  “I didn’t want it to be like this. I never intended for you to find out so abruptly and indelicately.”

  “When were you going to tell me you are carrying my child?” he shouted.

  “When you agreed to marry me for no other reason but because you loved me.”

  “And if I didn’t chose to marry you?”

  “Then I would have gone, and lived the rest of my life raising our child alone with the support of my mother.”

  “She knows?!”

  “Of course she knows. Your parents know, as well. That was the only reason they would let me come and reconcile with you.”

  “Jesus bloody Christ! Everyone knows about our baby but me?” He was livid.

  “No, Olivia and Colton do not know, although your shouting may have changed that.”

&nbs
p; “Bloody—”

  The rest of his tirade Lydia couldn’t understand so she just waited. She had never seen him so angry and at a loss for what to do. She knew keeping the baby a secret was a gamble, but she didn’t regret it. Yet. After all they had overcome, she prayed it wouldn’t be the one thing that ripped them apart forever.

  He was silent now as he turned back to her and just stared. “How far along?” he asked quietly.

  “Coming upon fourteen weeks,” she replied.

  He came forward slowly. “I want to see.”

  Lydia frowned. “You can’t see the baby Devon, it’s inside me.”

  “No.” He rubbed his face in aggravation. “Show me your stomach.”

  Lydia was puzzled about what that would accomplish, since only hours earlier, he had seen her fully naked, but she obliged him.

  She pulled her nightgown up under the covers, and she pulled the sheet down so only her lower belly was exposed.

  At first, he just stared, and then he gently placed a hand on her stomach. Lydia had her gaze locked on his face. He looked terrified and happy, all at once. Then, much to her shock, he bent over and put his ear to her stomach.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “To what, exactly?”

  He shrugged. “Our baby.”

  Lydia was instantly overwhelmed with emotion. The words “our baby” were so precious that tears came to her eyes, and she fought to keep them back.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  She swallowed. “Nothing of comfort, I’m afraid. It could be normal pain from stretching, or it could mean something is wrong. Either way, there is nothing to be done but wait. The baby is too small to hear with his instrument or feel with his hands.” She was flooded with worry again. The little life growing inside her felt so fragile, and yet she was helpless to protect it. “I have to remain in bed and wait for more pain or bleeding. Or I just need to rest and everything will be fine.”

  “Then that is what you will do.” He looked at her and held her gaze. “If you move from this bed, I will tie you down. From now on, I will do everything for you.”