Page 28 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
“Samantha, I could not get away, slip out into the gardens with me. We must talk,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to where the Thompson twins were watching him.
Samantha nodded, indicating that she would follow him, and as the musicians struck up another waltz, the two of them slipped out into gardens. It was a starry night, the moon high in the sky above and casting a pale, silvery light upon the lawns behind the house. Samantha shivered, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders, as Nox turned to her and smiled.
“How have you suffered the company of these intolerable people for so long?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Why do you think I ran away?” she replied, the two of them stepping down from the terrace onto the lawn, further away from prying eyes.
“You were wise to. A few days is enough to drive anyone mad. My uncle and aunt are good people, but the rest… well, those Thompson twins are quite insufferable. I would gladly see them walk the plank,” he said, shaking his head, and smiling at her.
Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. She had thought that he was enjoying the attentions of the two women – of all the women – and she was ashamed that her jealousy had been so easily aroused.
“They have something of a reputation. I am sure that when they knew the Earl of Brimsey had been discovered, their hearts leaped, as I am sure did that of their mother. Still, I am glad you see through them,” she said.
She had felt awkward at first, uncomfortable to be in his company after what they had shared and what she had considered lost. No, she felt foolish at having made such assumptions, though still she wondered why he had made no attempt to contact her.
“I see through them all. Everyone here is only interested in catching a glimpse of a man back from the dead. It was difficult at first, I so wanted to speak with you, but I knew what would happen if your father discovered we were still in communication. I saw the look on his face when he realized Osmond and Nox were the same person. I am still Nox, but it seems I am to play the part of this impostor, too. I do not feel like an Earl, despite being dressed as one,” he said, looking down at himself as though in horror.
He really did look very different. Gone were the exotic fabrics, the braided hair, gold-trimmed shoes, replaced by the clothes of a respectable gentleman, a man who commanded respect and adulation, no longer a pirate, but a civilized aristocrat.
“You look very fine,” she said, and he smiled at her, their eyes meeting in the moonlight, his gaze causing her to blush.
“Do not let your betrothed hear you say that. He is surely the jealous type. How can you possibly wish to marry such a man?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Do you believe I wish it? I have no desire to marry him. Everything about him is repulsive to me. I hate him, and the thought of marrying him makes me feel sick to my stomach. I would gladly run away again, go back to the Caribbean, I want only to be with you,” she said, surprised at the force of her own words.
They were heartfelt and passionate. He was her only hope of escape, her only chance to flee from the sad fate which was certain to befall her. He aroused such passion in her, a longing and desire for adventure, an adventure which only he could give her. She had risked so much in rescuing him, and now she was willing to risk yet more to be with him – her very reputation, her good standing in society, her family, all of it – the greatest risk of her life.
He seemed surprised at the force of her words, as though he too had written off the possibility of the passion between them continuing. Now, a smile passed over his lips and he glanced around him, as though checking they were not being observed. The sounds of the music drifted over the garden and he took her in his arms, pulling her into the shrubbery, as she gave a gasp of delight, her heart beating fast at his touch, as their lips met.
The kiss they shared was passionate and intense, just like that they had shared on the day of his escape from the prison. He held her close to him, his hands running down the arch of her back, their lips lingering together, meeting again, as she too clasped him in her arms. There was a danger to this liaison, but Samantha paid no heed to it, caught up in the moment, a moment she thought lost through sad, uncertain circumstance.
“I did not know if we would have this moment again,” she whispered, as he took her by the hand.
“And many more to come,” he replied, leading her deeper into the shrubbery.
The sounds of the music faded away now, as they came to a small clearing where a sundial was set in the center with box hedge and lavender edged around. There was a stone bench there, and he led her to sit, kneeling before her and looking up at her, a smile upon his face.
“If we are caught–” she whispered, but he shook his head and brought his lips to her cheek, a gentle kiss, as his hand slipped into hers.
“We will not be caught, and why does it matter if we are? Am I not the Earl of Brimsey? A respectable gentleman to whom every woman in the room was attracted?” he asked, and Samantha blushed, as he continued his kisses, pulling her into a closer embrace.
“But you had no eyes for them?” she asked, the question of his fidelity still lingering in her mind.
“For silly women like the Thompson twins? No, Samantha, how could I have eyes for anyone but you?” he asked, pulling at the shoulders of her dress and exposing her breasts.
She shivered a little, as the cold air touched her skin. But his touch was warm, and his lips now trailed from hers down the soft skin of her neck, his hands fondling at the breasts, as she arched her back and gave a gasp. The strangest sensation had come upon her, a warmth which built in her loins, flooding through her with the force of a wave, overwhelming her, and dismissing any thought of the night chill.
“I have wanted to be alone together, to talk, to share this moment,” he whispered, as he pulled her dress up, his hands now reaching below her skirts.
He had pulled himself up next to her now, and she could see his own arousal outlined in his breeches, a sight which caused her to blush. Rebecca had spoken of her and Nicholas’ carnal knowledge, but never had she imagined the intensity which such actions could arouse and now she found herself entirely caught up in this moment of pleasure, shuddering at Nox’s touch.
It was gentle, yet intense, drawing her deeper into the moment, as if nothing else in all the world could matter. There, amid the shrubbery, hidden away from prying eyes, she felt as though nothing else mattered but being with him. She desired it, longed for it, wanted to know him more deeply, more intimately, more completely.
She gave a gasp, as his fingers touched the part between her legs, slipping into her intimately, as she winced in equal measures of pleasure and discomfort. It was the strangest of sensations, and yet the more she grew accustomed to it, the greater the delight, until suddenly she felt again that surging of heat within her loins, which flooded her with such intensity that she gasped. His lips were upon her breasts, but he brought them to bear upon her, clutching at her, as her own hand moved to pleasure him.
“Like this?” she whispered, and he too gave a gasp.
“Like that, just like that,” he cried, pulling her more closely to him, as a sudden eruption caused him to cry out, pressing his lips to hers, their bodies entwined, as he tensed and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
