Mary Balogh - Web of Love

Caroline had the grace to wait until her uncle was strolling away toward the bridge with Ellen before looking up at her father, smiling that special smile that lit up her whole face, and raising her arms to be picked up.

“Bad little princess,” he said, stooping down for her.

“Oh, Edmund-” his wife began, but he held up a staying hand.

“No, Alex,” he said. “Absolutely and irrevocably no. I will not interfere. And unless my intuition is quite wide of the mark, I really don’t think any interference will be necessary. They are two reasonably sensible adults who have almost worked their way through a problem. If you want a prediction, I would say that we will be hearing an interesting announcement before another week has passed. So forget it. I am not going to do anything.”

“How rude you are to interrupt me,” she said. “I was merely going to remark that she told me quite openly that the child is Dominic’s. And I was about to predict that he is bearing her away to make her an offer. The very idea that I would ask you to interfere in adult affairs!”

Caroline had spotted the ball and wanted to get down again. The earl set her on the grass and turned to smile at his wife.

“It makes one almost envious, does it not?” he said. “Look, Alex, they are turning up the valley. Our valley. We haven’t visited our hut since coming home, have we?”

“We have had guests to entertain,” she reminded him.

“Soon,” he promised her, leaning down, his hands clasped behind his back, to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. “We’ll find the time to go up there soon, Alex. Who knows? Perhaps we will start our third child there, as we did our first. Now what are you indignant about?”

“You should not kiss me in public like that,” she said, turning pink. “Someone will see.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Christopher and Caroline?” he said. “It would be dreadful indeed for them to discover that their papa still fancies their mama at the advanced age of four-and-twenty, would it not? Or is it the servants you are worried about? I imagine they all have the intelligence to have drawn their own conclusions long ago from the fact that we have but one bedchamber between the two of us. Alex, you are poppy red. I really can’t resist the urge to discover if there is any brighter color.”

He set his hands at her waist and kissed her even more lingeringly.

She made no attempt to fight her way free.

THE BEACH OR THE VALLEY?” LORD EDEN ASKED as they reached the stone bridge across the stream.

“The valley,” Ellen said. “It is so very peaceful.”

“And the day is very like summer,” he said, “despite all the signs of autumn.”

He took her hand in his as soon as they were out of sight of his brother and sister-in-law. She did not resist. They walked in companionable silence for a while.

“What has happened with your stepdaughter?” he asked. “You appear to be on reasonably good terms today.”

Ellen told him of her morning encounter with Jennifer and of the fact that the girl had made a few stilted attempts at luncheon to address remarks to her, even when it had not been necessary to do so.

“It will take a little time,” she said. “But I think our broken relationship can be repaired. I am afraid she has just learned one painful lesson of adulthood-that those adults we have depended upon and loved are also weak and fallible mortals.”

“I will have a talk with her,” he said, “though she probably does not feel particularly friendly toward me at present. I will assure her that she will always have a home with us.”

They walked on.

“At the risk of incurring Alexandra’s wrath,” he said when they came to the place where they had tethered their horses on another day, “shall we climb up? The view should be lovely on a clear day like this.”

They scrambled up the bank and through the trees until they reached the clearing almost at the top of the slope. And they stood side by side, not quite touching, looking back along the valley to the sea.

“I’m glad,” Ellen said, “that it all belongs to someone who appreciates it. Your brother does, doesn’t he?”

“It is only since I have been away,” he said, “that I have stopped thinking of it as my home. I love Amberley. It is my childhood home, and Edmund’s home. But for the first time I feel some enthusiasm for going to my own property. It is a lovely place, Ellen, in quite a different way from this. And it is mine. I will be able to establish my family there from the start.”

Ellen took a step away and sat down on the grass. Lord Eden joined her there.

“Now that your stepdaughter knows,” he said, “there is no further reason for us to delay announcing our betrothal, is there?”

Ellen hugged her knees. “I suppose not,” she said.

He laughed softly. “I think it is as plain as the nose on everyone’s face anyway,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I want to set a wedding date, Ellen,” he said. “Will this side of Christmas be too soon for you? I thought perhaps we could marry in the chapel beside the house here, with just our families present. Under the circumstances, I don’t think it would be appropriate to have a public wedding, would it?”

“Let’s talk about it later,” she said, turning her face up to the sun and closing her eyes. “Let’s just enjoy the day, Dominic.”

“And talking about weddings spoils the day?” he said. “Very well, then. Let’s enjoy the day.” He lay back on the grass and clasped his hands behind his head.

They were silent for a while, and Ellen began to relax in the sunshine that felt almost hot on her face. Had she hurt him, she wondered, by refusing to talk about anything as definite as a wedding date? She would have to talk about it soon. Their betrothal would doubtless be officially announced later that day, and then there would be no avoiding the questions of date and place.

She turned her head to look at him. He was gazing back, his eyes half-closed against the sunlight, his mouth half-smiling.

“Come down here,” he said, stretching one arm along the ground.

She lay back, her head on his arm, and closed her eyes. A couple of minutes passed before the light of the sun against her eyelids was blocked out and she felt his mouth on hers, warm and light, his lips slightly parted.

She opened her eyes when the pressure was removed, and looked up into his green eyes. He smiled slowly, and she felt herself smile in response. She did not move.

His tongue explored her lips when his mouth returned to hers, and probed gently between. It was a long and a lazy kiss. Ellen did not move, beyond relaxing her lips and allowing his tongue its will. He felt good. He smelled good. She felt her whole body relax.

She kept her eyes closed when he stopped kissing her and lay back down beside her again. His hand was caressing her face, his thumb moving lightly over her eyelids and her cheeks. Over her mouth. And the hand moved down to touch her breasts, to trace their outline, to cup their fullness. And down over her waist and abdomen.

“You are losing your waist,” he murmured against her ear.

“Yes.” She did not open her eyes. She willed the spell not to be broken.

His hand moved over her, touching, exploring, caressing through her clothing. And it felt so very good. She wanted to turn into his arms, to wrap her own about him. But she lay still and seemingly relaxed.

His hand was edging up the skirt of her dress and was finally beneath it, strong and warm against her legs, against her inner thighs. Up over her stomach, over the early swelling of her pregnancy.

She lay still and relaxed, with closed eyes.

And then his mouth was on hers again, light still, but open this time, and his tongue reached deep into her mouth to stroke her slowly and gently. And his hand stripped away undergarments and caressed her unhurriedly, circling and circling the place where he was not ready to touch her yet.

Her hands were flat on the grass beside her.

But she was no longer relaxed. His mouth was at her throat, and his hand was touching her very lightly, and stroking her very lightly in a way that made her throb from the place he touched to her throat.

His hand left her in order to adjust his own clothing. She lay with closed eyes beside him. But she opened them when he spoke to her.

“Come, Ellen,” he said softly, and reached across to lift her over him.

She looked into his eyes as he brought her down fully onto him, and then lifted up onto her knees and threw back her head until her face was bathed in the light and warmth of the sun.

And the throbbing turned to a pain and an agony.

And to a tension that was past bearing.

“Dominic!” she called to him.

And to a bursting of ecstasy.

And to a slow, shuddering return to life and happiness and fulfillment.

Strong arms came about her and lowered her to the grass beside him, and held her close. A warm mouth sought out hers and kissed her lingeringly.

“Marriage will not be such a terrible fate, you see,” he murmured against her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open and looked into his. But she was in too deep a lethargy to summon a smile. She let herself slip beyond lethargy.

Lord Eden closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the smooth hair on top of her head. He supposed he would sleep. He felt relaxed right down to his toes, and utterly satiated. But he didn’t particularly want to sleep. There was just too much physical contentment to be savored.

He had not really intended to make love to her. That had not been his reason for taking her walking or for bringing her up there. He had wanted to be with her, to build on the feeling of friendship that had grown between them since their arrival at Amberley, and to talk to her about their wedding and his plans to take her immediately afterward into Wiltshire.