Page 66 of A Baron's Scandalous Quill
“You have control of this book, Will. I can take out things and put them in as you want them, but I do know this. If you stop now, if you choose not to pursue this any further, you will always wonder for the rest of your life what more you could have discovered.”
“You think I should go on.”
“I do.” She nodded firmly. “Don’t close the book on this chapter now when there could be more. It could haunt you otherwise.”
He nodded slowly, thoughtfully, clearly weighing up her words.
“This is a lot to bear with,” he whispered eventually. “I start to fear that I will always be haunted by this in some way or another.”
“No, you won’t be,” she said confidently. “Once you know everything, you will be able to look at it all objectively, to know what kind of man George Dorset was and separate yourself from him. You are nothing like him. You are not his kin; we know that now.” She moved her hands to his tailcoat and pulled on the lapels lightly, trying to emphasize these words as much as she could. “You are safe from him now. You are surrounded by people who…who care for you.”
She longed to tell him that she loved him, that her heart was his if he wanted it, and that she would always be here for him, but she knew she could not. Someday soon, they would have to part.
“I care for you,” she whispered, her voice very quiet, for she was so afraid to say the words. “Take solace in those who care for you and will wrap you up in cotton wool to protect you from the horrid deeds of George Dorset. Take solace, Will. Please.”
He took one of her hands from the lapel of his jacket and raised it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. Such pleasure shot through her arm that she didn’t want him to stop there. He must have had the same temptation, for he looked around the two of them, checking over his shoulder and through the woodland before he moved toward her.
Their lips met in a kiss, something urgent and full of need. Her free hand curled even tighter around his tailcoat than before, desperate to keep him close.
“What would I do without you?” he whispered, reminding her of such words that he had said before. Her breath hitched, but rather than answering him, she reached up and kissed him again, pulling on him to maintain that kiss until they stumbled together.
They fell against the nearest tree trunk, arms locked together, kissing wildly. One of his hands trailed in her hair, angling her head to the side so he could make the kiss deeper. Their tongues tangled, battling for control, before she willingly relented and gave him that dominance.
To be so explored by him, with his hand trailing from her arm to her waist, now pulling at the skirt of her gown, thrilled her. It had been so long since she had known his touch, her center flooded with a wet need.
Do not stop, Will…
Yet twigs snapped nearby, the sounds competing with the howling wind and rain. They pulled apart a little, both breathing heavily, blinking as raindrops streaked their eyelids and cheeks.
“We’ll be caught,” he whispered.
“I know.” She nodded. “We must return to the house, but…”
“But?” he said with clear hope.
“Come to me soon?” she asked hopefully. “Is it wrong to want something more than a few stolen kisses in these woods?”
“Nothing wrong at all in that.” He stole another such kiss, brief and urgent, then he turned and offered his arm to her, rather formally. With a shaky breath, she put her hand on his arm and allowed her to escort him back toward the house, as she did her best to adjust her hair and make it decent again.
The closer they got to the house, the more she shivered, and it wasn’t just because of the rain and chill in the air. It was with need and a sudden determination. Maybe she and William could not be together forever, but she wanted to know another night with him—what it would be like to be his completely for one last time.
Chapter 24
“You are certain of this, William?” Lord Longfellow leaned toward him from the head of the table.
“I am.” William nodded. The plate of food before him was practically untouched, though it seemed no other at the table had suffered the same loss of appetite as he had. Opposite him sat Henry and Becca, both of them eating well, as at the head of the table, his father had already cleared his plate of food. “Let it be done,” he said suddenly. “Let us discover all there is to discover.”
“Very well.” Lord Longfellow sighed and stood from his seat. “Let me send the message. I’ll arrange for an express messenger to go this evening. They’ll be able to deliver the note this evening, and then perhaps, they can be here tomorrow afternoon if we are lucky.”
William nodded once more but said nothing. He waited for his father to leave the room, weighing up his decision in his mind.
“It is a good plan, my lord,” Henry said into the quiet that followed. “You should meet them.”
“Do you think they will come?” William asked, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knees.
“Had the message been sent in your name, I think not.” Becca shook her head. “They do not know you, and if Sarah Brackley does know your name, then there may be some jealousy there. Yet for Lord Longfellow to send the message, they would be more inclined to come.
Granted, Miss Brackley cannot read, but we do not know if her son can read or not. If they have known for some time that Lord Longfellow is the one who sends them money, then they might feel compelled to come.”
