The Caversham Chronicles ~ the Beginning

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

Cav waited in Merivale’s study for Amelia to arrive. He stared out over his friend’s private garden and tried to pinpoint what it was exactly about her that drew him to her. Made him want to take her to his bed and love her until neither could move any longer. Until they were both sweaty and sated from their s****l play.

While Amelia looked nothing like his Lizzie, they had many things in common. Both had a strong independent streak, as neither woman enjoyed being told what to do. Neither was afraid to remind him when he was being a boor. And neither feared him, or groveled before him.

He prayed her aunt was minding that waspish tongue of hers. Lady Rawdon, as the young woman’s aunt, had failed miserably in her responsibility to her niece, and Cav had told her so. She should have seen the younger lady presented at court and given a season or two to allow her an opportunity to marry within her station. He knew the young lady’s family well, and even if her father was a lesser son who married a country vicar’s daughter, the girl was still descended from one of the oldest bloodlines in all of England. She had a right to be more than that harridan’s paid companion.

He was angry, both with Lady Rawdon and himself. She’d told him she had noble connections when they met in the maze, but he’d still let the baser side of his personality take over and he kissed her. He hoped it had been as momentous for her as it had been for him. It wasn’t until he’d pressed his lips on hers that he realized he couldn’t allow her to return to the home of her unstable and abusive aunt.

Now he was about to enter into the bonds of matrimony—something he hadn’t thought to ever do again. All because he couldn’t keep his hands from touching her or his lips from ravishing hers.

While many men his age did remarry, it was usually for children to carry on the bloodline. Cav had his heir and his daughter. He didn’t need others. Yet he wanted this young woman in an elemental, almost carnal, way. Since meeting her, he’d thought of nothing else but taking her to his bed. And from the moment he discovered who she was, his fate was sealed—not because he feared any retribution from Thomas, after all he was willingly offering the lady marriage—but because he didn’t know how much longer he could control this desire to make love to her.

There was still Lady Rawdon and her gossipy ways to monitor. The woman had much to lose if she so much as spoke a cross word about her niece in public. One such as she thrived on the quality of invitations received and would only accept those that would better her station. Cav had the ability with a few well-placed words in the right ears to cut Lady Rawdon from society altogether, and he’d made her aware of it last night.

Granted he’d not known who Amelia was when he kissed her, but the fact that he had kissed her sealed their fate when he discovered her connections. And for some inexplicable reason, he found that he was pleased.

When he’d kissed her it stirred something—a sense of protectiveness maybe—in him he’d not felt in years. When Cav leaned in to press his lips to hers, he felt her breathing quicken. Her pulse raced beneath his fingers when he touched her neck where the vein rested beneath her skin.

He was a man of more than fifty years and this untried girl had him hard as a blacksmith’s anvil with just two innocent kisses. That had happened only once in his life. He was sure that if her aunt hadn’t intruded, he would have had her on the couch within minutes—especially after she opened for him like a flower when he coaxed her lips apart.

The succession of mistresses he’d kept in the years since his Lizzie’s death had all served his needs, but they’d never stirred his emotions. Amelia had, and Cav smiled at the thought of never needing to search for a mistress again.

He heard the door open and directed the maid to place the tea cart near the windows. As the servant poured for him, Miss Amelia Manners-Sutton, his future wife as of last night, entered. She appeared defeated, and he’d hoped that her aunt’s news would have had her smiling. It wasn’t every day a lady was asked to become a duchess.

She was an attractive young lady. Very attractive. When he’d first spied her coming toward him in the hallway earlier, with her hair hastily brushed off her face, fresh from bed, he’d thought her a beautiful vixen. Evidently, she’d gone to her room before coming down to see him, for her hair was properly arranged and she had a shawl draped over her arms.

“Miss Manners-Sutton.” Cav motioned to the tea tray. “Would you like a cup?”

“No, thank you, Your Grace.”

Cav could tell she’d been crying and felt completely responsible for the events of last night. She had no part in what was happening to her. If he didn’t think she had at least a small chance of happiness with him, he would never have considered pursuing this. There was still the off chance he might be wrong, but he didn’t think he was mistaken. He truly believed the attraction between them was not one-sided.

“Was Lady Rawdon at least kind?” He wanted to know if her aunt was staying true to their agreement.

“As kind as my aunt can be when…” His bride-to-be cleared her throat of the emotion building in her. “She feels as though she lost in a competition that I was not aware of. And now I am back in the same situation I was in when papa died. No home. No family.”

“You will never have to worry over that again.”

“No, you don’t understand. When no one would have me or even give me a reference, Aunt Katherine took me in. While she was never an easy person to live with, she was my family. And you…”

Amelia’s voice cracked, as though she was fighting to keep herself together. Her strength under the circumstances was notable.

“You treat me as though I am a lost puppy in need of rescuing. I do not, Your Grace, need rescuing. I do not want it.”

Cav stared at her, wondering how he could explain his actions without sounding ill-mannered. He didn’t think she needed to hear the truth, so he said what he thought every woman wanted to hear. That she was desirable and he didn’t think he’d be happy living without her for the rest of his life.

“What utter malarkey, Your Grace,” she scoffed. “You no more know me than you do the scullery maid at any one of your estates. I’m not believing a word of your colorful, yet dispassionate, plea for my hand. You don’t want me. It is obvious. You’re being forced now that my aunt found you kissing me.”

“I do not make a habit of asking ladies to marry me. You are, in fact, only the second woman to ever receive such an… invitation.” He stepped a little closer, until he stood so close he could see the faint quiver in her delectable lower lip. “And you returned my kiss, Amelia, do not pretend you didn’t.”

He saw indecision, fear, and even… desire in her upturned face. Cav wanted to kiss her again, but feared frightening her. As if reading his thoughts, she backed away, toward the open doors overlooking the garden. “While I might not have wished to marry before last night, I do now.”

“There! You just admitted that you do not wish to marry me,” she surmised. “And I will not marry a man because he was caught kissing me. Why… You might as well tell me straight out that I was forced upon you.”

Cav tried to get her attention as she paced the space between the tea service and the French doors. But she was paying him no mind as she went on.

“I don’t want to be forced upon any man. Or be any man’s second choice. I want—no deserve—to be a man’s sole desire.” She stopped, looked up at him and added, “Because of that I must refuse your generous offer, Your Grace.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Any other woman would have accepted his offer of marriage and the only two women he’d ever actually asked refused him. Oh, he had no doubt he’d get her to agree. Cav knew all he had to do was kiss Amelia and she’d say yes.

But this was different. Amelia was different. Independent. She’d likely been caring for her family even while her father lived. She didn’t know any other way. How was he going to convince her that she, Miss Amelia Manners-Sutton, was his desire? He brushed a stray wisp of hair away from her face and when his fingers touched the warm skin of her cheek, he felt a shock course through him, waking up long-dormant sensations.

“Amelia, I am no young buck. I play no games. I desired you the evening we met in the garden maze, just as I desired to kiss you last night. Right now, I desire you so much that a certain part of me is in constant agony because I want you naked, in my bed. Under me. On top of me. Beside me.

“And, I will not give up in my pursuit of you, until you say yes.”

She took a shaky breath and threw back her shoulders, holding her head high. “Why are you doing this? You do not know me. Is this because of last night? If so, I absolve you of any guilt over your actions.”

He shrugged. He didn’t have a good reason. Reason had fled his mind the moment he kissed her. When he’d arrived here four days ago, getting married again was the furthest thing from his mind. And now? It was all he wanted with this young woman who stirred his heart and his manhood, but something else as well.

Cav stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. She was so soft. So fresh and unspoiled. He loved the way she moved, her sense of humor, her pride and strength. He found her manner engaging—when not in fear of discovery by her aunt. Remove that oppression from her life and everything about her told him she would make a perfect duchess.

His perfect duchess.

She ducked away and he let her go. Whatever she wanted to say seemed to be important to her, so he gave her his attention. “After my mother died, I decided I wouldn’t wed because my father and brother needed me. Now I must repay my father’s debt before I can settle down. I am almost twenty-nine. My prime years have been spent working to support my brother through university. He is almost finished. And—” Her voice cracked as she became overwrought with emotion. “And if Harry returns to Guildford, I want to be there.” Her gray eyes widened at a sudden thought. “Good God, if he tries to send word to me, how will his letter find me? Aunt Katherine will never forward them just to spite me.”

Cav had never felt this odd sensation—a possessive jealousy—before the very moment his future wife mentioned another man’s name. Before now, possessiveness had always been about possession. Now an indescribable, almost painful feeling grew inside him. Who was this Harry? A man she’d betrothed herself to?

Trying his best to keep his voice strong and authoritative, he asked, “And Harry is?”

“My brother.” She worked to control her feelings. “He disappeared the week before my father’s death, en route back to university.”

Cav felt a heel for automatically presuming the worst and instantly understood her pain. He feared daily for the safety of his own sailor son, especially after several crewmen from some of his own ships disappeared from the docks just a few months back.

“He did everything we told him to do to protect himself. He traveled in groups, didn’t encourage the anger of strangers, and still the press gangs found him. The gangers took their whole group from the pub they’d visited for a meal the night before they would have arrived in Cambridge. One more day and they would have been back in their lodging.” Her voice had an eerie, hollow quality to it. “It was his last term. His last one.”

And in her tale was the deepest darkest fear he had for his own son. It was the reason Ren was angry with him at that moment. Cav had ordered him to remain at home until this latest rash of abductions passed over. With two wars now being fought, there was a scarcity of willing sailors to man His Majesty’s fleet of ships. The press gangs were providing a service. He understood this, had even voted for it all those years ago. But back then, he never thought they would be at war this long, and now on two fronts.