Ecstasy

Chapter Eighteen

The heavy snows eventually ceased, allowing their return to London at last. Kell resumed spending his nights in his own bedchamber and his days at his club, yet Raven was less grateful than she might have imagined. Without his company, her loneliness seemed magnified.

Moreover, although the new year had dawned bright with hope that the interminable war with Napoleon might soon be over, the winter was the coldest in local memory. So cold that even the Thames River itself began to freeze.

The absence of her closest friends from town didn’t help, Raven knew. She had too much time on her hands to remember Kell and his lovemaking-the exquisite torment, the paralyzing pleasure-and the dangerous temptation he posed. During their intimate holiday interlude, he had probed her deepest emotions, exposed her greatest pain, and now she was left to deal with the aftermath, where her private yearnings battled her long-held fears.

Kell, too, was fighting his own battle. Business had dwindled significantly at the Golden Fleece, due both to the holidays and to the frigid weather, and he had little occupation to help drive thoughts of Raven from his mind or to make him forget her recent confession about her parentage.

She hadn’t wanted to reveal so much about herself, Kell knew. Raven kept the emotions that hurt the most locked deep inside, as he did. But he’d heard the pain in her voice when she spoke of her illegitimacy, seen the grief in her eyes at breaking her promise to her mother-and he’d felt shaken by a profound tenderness.

He had tried not to let her concerns become important to him, but they had. And now he found himself wanting to make amends.

He could at least undo some of the damage his brother had wrought, Kell decided; he was wealthy enough to purchase a title for Raven. The Prince Regent’s coffers were always in need of replenishing, since Parliament often refused his exorbitant requests for funds. And the Crown had been known to create new titles, regrant extinct ones, and recommend peerages in exchange for services rendered. Kell had little doubt he could be knighted or awarded a barony for the right price.

He asked Dare’s opinion about the matter when the marquess returned to London at the end of January.

“No, it shouldn’t be difficult for you to acquire a title,” Dare responded with only a slight lift of an eyebrow. “Blessingham obtained his earldom by making Prinny a loan that was never expected to be repaid. If you like, I can put a discreet word in the Regent’s ear. But I thought you disdained our snobbish aristocratic set.”

Kell returned a wry smile. “I do. But Raven being able to attach ‘Lady’ before her name would set her mind at ease and let her fulfill the vow she made to her mother to wed a title.”

Dare only nodded in approval, but the amused gleam in his eyes suggested incredulity that Kell would even consider such a step.

It amazed Kell as well. He had never aspired to join the ranks of society’s upper crust, but now he was actually contemplating letting go of his anger for Raven’s sake, relinquishing his self-imposed, admittedly lonely sentence as an outcast.

Indeed, his entire outlook on life had changed since wedding her. Before their marriage two months ago he would never have envisioned the lengths he would go to simply for the hope of seeing her smile.

By the first few days of February, the Thames had frozen to a solid surface, and Kell surprised both himself and Raven by inviting her to the impromptu fair on the ice that the papers were calling a Frost Fair. It was a sign of her restlessness that Raven accepted so readily, Kell suspected.

The scene between the London and Blackfriars Bridges did resemble a huge fair, with immense crowds milling on the frozen river, enjoying the spontaneous festivities. There were countless stalls and booths selling food and liquor and wares. Swings and merry-go-rounds. People dancing reels and playing skittles. And even printing presses turning out handbills and broadsides to commemorate the occasion.

Raven appeared delighted by the novelty, especially the gaming, which included E.O., Rouge-et-Noir, and Wheels of Fortune.

“Are you certain you don’t want to set up your own booth?” Raven laughingly demanded of Kell. “You could bring your hazard table here and make an outrageous profit, as these vendors appear to be doing.”

“I think I will spare myself the trouble. The ice isn’t likely to last, and I’d rather not run the risk of having my expensive hazard table sink to the bottom of the Thames.”

They wandered about, munching on toasted cheese and hot chestnuts and gingerbread. Fascinated by the skaters, Raven made Kell pause to watch. Some of the performers appeared to be quite skilled, gliding gracefully across the ice like dancers, while others frolicked with amateurish glee, displaying clownish antics and clumsy pratfalls.

“I would never see anything like this in the West Indies,” Raven murmured with delight.

In silent admiration Kell surveyed her heart-shaped face framed by glossy black tendrils. With her cheeks flushed rosy from the cold, her eyes bright with wonder, she looked more like an enchanting girl than a dazzling debutante.

“Do you miss your island?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she replied almost wistfully. “Certainly I miss the warmth. But my mother is gone, and without her there…And I’ve made a new life here.”

“You might like to return there someday.”

“Perhaps. England doesn’t truly feel like home to me.” She glanced up at him. “Do you consider England home?”

Kell reflected on the question thoughtfully. “Not really. I don’t claim any place as home.”

“Not even Ireland?”

“No. My happiest memories are of Ireland during my youth, but after my mother died…” He left the bitter thought unspoken. “When I returned as an adult, the magic was gone. And I found it difficult to earn a reliable livelihood at the hells there. Dublin isn’t London.”

“But now that your club is successful, would you want to go back?”

“I don’t believe so. It took only a few months of living in city stews to realize that I’d developed an idealized view of the country from the stories my mother used to tell. And being half-English was a drawback. The Irish don’t think any better of the English than the reverse.”

“Would you ever want to visit the Caribbean?”

“Possibly.” Kell smiled. “Just now your tales of hot sun and warm beaches sound infinitely appealing.”

They spent another hour enjoying the Frost Fair before Raven started to shiver. When Kell insisted on returning her home, she thought it only polite to offer him a respite from the bitter cold by asking him to stay for tea.

They were ensconced in the drawing room by the fire, sipping hot tea, when he spied a set of foils lying on a side table-foils that belonged to him.

Raven flushed. “I didn’t think you would mind my borrowing them.”

“You’ve been practicing your fencing, then?”

“A little. But I’m not certain if I’m doing it correctly. Dare offered to continue my lessons but he hasn’t yet found the time.”

She saw Kell’s eyes narrow for an instant. “I’m perfectly capable of continuing your lessons,” he observed, almost as if he were jealous.

“I didn’t think you would wish to trouble yourself.”

“I was only waiting for an invitation. Would you like a lesson now?”

Though surprised, Raven nodded. “Yes, indeed. Not only would I enjoy it, but I would do anything to get warm.”

And so she found herself quite unexpectedly dancing across the drawing room, practicing the elements of thrust and parry and riposte with Kell.

It took only moments for Raven to realize her mistake. During their entire visit to the fair, she had been physically attuned to him…to his casual glances, to his nearness, to his slightest touch. But now her sexual awareness intensified.

Kell had removed his coat and waistcoat, and the fabric of his shirt stretched taut, revealing flowing muscles across his shoulders and arms. The sight so distracted her that she had to fight to recall any of the fencing skills he had taught her. And when she clumsily lunged against him and met the hardness of his thigh against her loins, the sensual shock of it scattered her thoughts so badly that she lowered her guard altogether.

Instantly she found herself disarmed, the buttoned point of his foil pressed against her throat.

Kell grinned, his bold, provocative look reminding her so much of her pirate that her breath faltered. Deliberately he backed her against the wall, his dark eyes gleaming in challenge. Her pulse took up an erratic rhythm when his rapier slid lower, brushing the swell of her bodice teasingly.

Then suddenly all teasing was gone. When their gazes locked, a sizzling tension leapt between them, the result of fierce need tightly leashed.

Kell breathed her name in a rough whisper and tossed aside his own foil. His eyes smoldering, he caught Raven to his chest, crushing her hard against him.

His kiss was carnal from the first, frankly sexual, his hard mouth bruising her with delicious force, his knee thrust between her thighs.

Raven whimpered. She hadn’t intended to make love to him, but when his tongue ravished her mouth, her hesitation melted into liquid fire. She wanted him deep inside her, needed the heat of his savage passion.

It should have shocked her when he reached up and tore the buttons from her high-necked gown, baring the firm rise of her breasts to his hungry, demanding mouth, but she was too dazed to protest. The sensation of his rough suckling made her wet at once.

With stunning swiftness, she found herself on her back on the Aubusson carpet with Kell covering her, lapping at the straining silk of her breasts. She knew she should stop him, but the urgency was too strong, too immediate.

He shoved up her skirts and mounted her, his eyes glowing like embers, burning away the thin veneer of gentility. She arched as his plunging hotness penetrated her body, crying out in pleasure as he slid himself relentlessly within her.

He took her with a pirate’s passion, and she responded with like fierceness, writhing beneath him as he thrust heavily into her again and again, his teeth bared. He was fire; he was heat and scorching flame that consumed her.

An explosion shot through her an instant later-erotic, incredibly intense-and carried him along. The harsh sounds that tore from his throat during their raw, frenzied mating matched her cries of delight as he pumped hotly into her, shuddering in racking tremors with his own burning need.

In the aftermath he sagged heavily in her arms. Her own strength shattered, Raven lay unmoving, loving the feel of his hard vital body pressed all along hers. Her fingers still clutched his hair, the ebony softness thick, sensual, alive, while his rapid breath teased the moist skin of her throat.

A deep sigh escaped her. She should deplore what she had done. She had given herself to Kell with abandon, without the slightest attempt to protect herself.

How could she have been so foolish? When she was with Kell, she shed any of the ladylike graces her mother had tried to instill in her. When he touched her, it was as if she became someone else, someone without shame or inhibitions. The rest of the world disappeared and desire alone infused her mind and body.

Raven squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a desperate urgency. A secret part of her thrilled at being wanted so fiercely by this man, at experiencing his wild, sweet mastery, while another, deeper part of her nearly despaired. He was everything her heart warned against.

Sweet heaven, she had to control herself. She couldn’t allow Kell to envelop her in emotional chaos. If she didn’t take care, she could find herself at his mercy, reaching for love and getting nothing in return but pain.

And yet when he lifted his head, gazing down into her eyes with such warmth, her resistance fled.

“I intend to spend the night in your bed,” he warned, his voice still hoarse with passion.

Raven nodded wordlessly, knowing she couldn’t deny him.

Several hours later, Kell lay with Raven in the dark, examining the strangeness of his feelings. They had retired to her bed after dinner and resumed the passionate exertions they’d unexpectedly begun in the drawing room. But only after she’d fallen asleep with her back curled spoon fashion in the curve of his body did he recognize the unfamiliar warmth that was flowing through him like a warm current.

Happiness. He was feeling happiness for the first time since his childhood. All because of Raven.

His loneliness had vanished, while his house had taken on new life in her enchanting presence. Her uniqueness was amazing, Kell thought, breathing in the fragrance of her midnight hair. Sparring with her was more exhilarating than making love to other women, and making love to her was…incredible.

He didn’t know how many lovers he’d had in his lifetime, but he knew that the way he’d felt with them was nothing compared to what he felt now. This sense of perfection. Of completeness. Raven made him feel joy, as if he would explode with it if she merely smiled at him.

He rubbed his knuckles softly against her bare arm, slowly savoring the silken texture of her skin. He hadn’t meant to make love to her this afternoon, at least not with such violence. But hot need had welled up in him the instant he’d touched her-and fierce male triumph had flooded him when she’d responded so eagerly. Her soft moans of arousal had nearly driven him mad. Even now, after a night of lusty passion, he wanted to take her again.

He was caught in the heat of his own desires, he knew…and something more. Is it love?

The thought startled him. When an accusing image of Sean rose up to taunt him, he pushed the damning thought away. His loyalty to his brother had nothing to do with his feelings for Raven.

So what did he feel for her?

He wanted more than just a taste of Raven. He wanted to consume her, totally, absolutely, utterly. Desire for her burned like a fever. She was beautiful, tantalizing, everything he wanted in this world. But just as strong as physical desire was the need to be with her, to laugh and fight with her, to cradle her in his arms, to protect her, to make her happy, to know happiness with her…

The want that rose up in him was so intense he had to shut his eyes.

Love. Was that the name for the overpowering feeling that was swamping him? The emotion he hadn’t thought he needed?

Kell sucked in a ragged breath, recognizing the truth. He loved her. The realization was frightening, exhilarating, unreal. He had lost the battle with himself.

Yet Raven was still fighting the battle. Even clasped against his heart, she still kept herself apart. She was too afraid of him. Afraid of giving herself, of losing herself, of loving.

Just then she stirred in her sleep, making him excruciatingly aware of her nakedness, of her ripe buttocks pressing against his loins. His longing was so sharp he had to clench his teeth. How could he still be this aroused after thoroughly sating himself?

Even as he swore a low oath, he gave in to his hunger. Shaping his palm to her feminine curves, he stroked her hip, then slid his hand around to her flat belly and lower…finding the warm, dewy cleft of her womanhood, plying her till he felt the sleek moisture that proclaimed her desire.

She still slept as, from behind, he slipped his arousal between her thighs; yet when he pushed himself into the yielding softness of her body, she stirred awake with a moan and pressed back against him eagerly.

Kell gave a rough sigh of pleasure and slid himself deeper into the hot, wet, incredibly tight clasp of her, his rhythm slow and tender, sheathing and drawing away until it became sweet, ecstatic torture for them both.

In only moments, though, the pleasure became too fierce to be borne. Kell shuddered, his tenderness giving way to savage demand. Rocking his hips, he drove her to a trembling climax before he found his own release, convulsing as his seed spurted from his body, filling her.

Holding her shaking body in the aftermath, he buried his face in her hair. He had met his match; he knew it without a doubt. But it remained to convince Raven of that.

Thus far their relationship had been purely carnal, based only on satisfying their mutual sexual needs. He had stirred her heart’s hidden passion, he suspected, but if they were to have a true marriage, he would have to overcome Raven’s fear of love. He would have to show her that loving him didn’t mean losing herself.

As the final ripples of passion faded, she eased away and turned over in his arms, sleepily lifting her face to his. Her mouth was warm and soft, pliant and willing-and there was such sweetness in her kiss, it sent shock waves all the way to his heart. Gathering her close, Kell returned her kiss with tender fervor, treasuring Raven’s gentle sigh of repletion when she curled her arm around his neck and nestled her head on his shoulder.

And as he lay there with her, wrapped in the night shadows of her hair, he made a silent vow. Someday they would be husband and wife in truth. If it took to the end of his days, he would convince Raven to let herself love him.

A welcome thaw put an end to the Frost Fair shortly after their visit, but that day proved to be a pivotal turning point in her marriage. To Raven’s dismay, Kell began spending his nights in her bedchamber. He would come home late from his club and join her in bed, rousing her from sleep and stirring her to new heights of passionate abandon.

He shared her company during the days as well. She often found Kell still at the breakfast table, reading the morning papers, when she returned from her rides in the park. He provided her escort to the various social events she chose to attend. And occasionally he even invited her to join him at the club.

Raven found herself struggling desperately against her own awakened desires. Kell filled her with ecstasy and impossible longings, ruling her thoughts, waking or sleeping. She wanted to touch him a hundred times a day.

Even when she sought refuge in her fantasies, he foiled her. It had been so long since she had indulged in daydreams of her pirate lover that when she tried to conjure up his image, all she could visualize was Kell.

Her fantasy lover had become Kell in the flesh.

The realization that she was so vulnerable to him frightened her. But she had never before been subjected to a Kell bent on seduction, and she could summon little resistance to his determined charm. He seemed to be laying siege to her heart, tearing away the walls of her defenses, stone by stone.

Her defenses crumbled even more one day toward the end of February. They had just finished breakfasting when Kell asked her to join him in his study.

Upon inspecting the first document he handed her, Raven realized it was the deed to an estate. The second document was a copy of letters patent for a barony.

“My lady Frayne,” Kell murmured, giving her a graceful bow.

She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”

“We are now Baron and Baroness Frayne. You wanted to be wed to a gentleman of rank, and I managed to accommodate your wish.”

“But…how?”

“It took less effort than I expected,” Kell explained, his mouth curling cynically. “Dare was right. The Regent’s coffers are so straitened that he leapt at my offer of financial aid. Subsequently I purchased an estate in the wilds of Northumberland, and now I have the title of baron to go with it.”

Raven shook her head in amazement, still not quite believing. Kell was now Lord Frayne and she was his lady? His generous gesture must have cost him a fortune-and he had made the effort for her sake, even though he despised such things as rank and class distinctions and aristocratic privilege.

“The ton will undoubtedly fawn over us now,” she said slowly, “but I know how much you dislike the trappings of society. You shouldn’t be required to assume a title if you don’t care to.”

He shrugged. “It is only a term of address, as far as I’m concerned. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“I suppose it does not change who I am, either,” Raven added, her tone thoughtful. “This does not make me a genuine lady. I will always be a bastard.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kell surveyed her levelly. “Does it really matter a damn who your father was or wasn’t?” When she didn’t reply, he went on. “I regret that baroness is not as illustrious a title as duchess, but I hoped it might serve to satisfy your vow to your mother.”

Raven flashed a tremulous smile. He was right, of course. The title itself wasn’t as important as what it represented; she could indeed keep the promise she had made to her mother.

She felt her eyes burn with tears. “Kell…I don’t know how to thank you. My mother would have cherished this.”

His own smile was wry. “My mother would have been pleased as well. She was never one for retribution, but she would have enjoyed watching her son become a lord after all the slights she endured because of her modest origins. I wish she were alive to see it.”

Raven heard the sorrow in his voice and realized it was a measure of how far they had come that Kell let her see his pain rather than try to conceal it from her.

Raven turned away to hide her dismay at another realization. She knew with frightening clarity that if she let herself, she could love Kell.

I can’t fall in love with him, she murmured fiercely to herself. Loving Kell would be reckless, foolish, mad. He had made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing but her body. He wasn’t the kind of man to surrender his heart in undying passion, especially to the woman he’d been compelled to offer his name in marriage.

Losing control of her own heart could be utterly disastrous. She could spend the rest of her life yearning for what she could never have.

And yet she very much feared he would leave her no choice.

Just then she felt his presence behind her. When Kell slid his arms around her and bent to nuzzle her nape, Raven tensed, calling on every ounce of willpower she possessed not to respond.

Fortunately she wasn’t required to, for she heard a throat being cleared from the doorway. Feeling a surge of relief at the interruption, Raven turned to find the butler awaiting them, his gaze politely averted.

“Yes, Knowles?” Kell demanded without much patience.

Assuming an apologetic look, the servant handed him a folded slip of paper. “A message from Miss Walsh, sir.”

Raven watched as Kell scanned the contents and saw his face cloud over with that same enigmatic mask he’d once worn.

“What is it?” she asked, not knowing whether to be alarmed.

“It seems my brother has returned to London,” Kell said gravely, his dark eyes hooded as they met hers.