How To Tame a Rake (13 page)

Dix and two policemen appeared across the river. Dix jumped from his horse and ran full pelt into the river. At its deepest, the water was mid-thigh.

“Willy, you’re safe,” he cried, rushing to her, tears running down his cheeks.

“I am, thanks to you,” she said hugging him, “but you’re making me wet.”

“Wet?” he said, gazing at her soiled clothes and smudged, bruised face. “You’re as dirty as a coalman!”

Blake grabbed him by his collar. “We are grateful to you lad, for your courageous action, but don’t be rude to a lady.” He winked at Willy over the top of the boy’s head.

“No, your lordship,” Dix said, still grinning at Willy.

Blake went to greet the policemen standing beside Joe Gore’s body.

* * * *

Over a cup of tea, Willy spoke of the horror of being abducted by Joe Gore again. Not wanting to upset Dix, she’d left a lot of gaps in the telling, but Blake knew how close she had come to a dreadful, violent death. He knew how she’d fought Joe, how brave she’d been. He was proud of her. And knew he’d never regret killing him. The anger that burned within him at Willy’s abduction and Bill Nye’s death was gone. He had laid a few ghosts to rest this day.

He took Willy’s hand and led her out into the garden. They walked quietly through the dusk, the perfume of spring flowers sweet on the soft air. An owl flew into a tree with a hoot and a rush of wings.

“It’s lovely here,” she said.

“Do you wish to stay?”

She turned to face him. “I’d rather live with the hero of my dreams.”

She felt him tense. “I haven’t been much of a hero, have I?”

“You were always a hero in my eyes.”

“I was?”

“From the first moment I met you when I was twelve, remember? I wandered into your bedchamber when your manservant was cutting your hair. You were scandalized and shooed me out.”

He laughed and swung her around to face him, his blue eyes dancing. “I promise never to shoo you out again. You do love me, then.”

“With all my heart, but are you aware that you’ve never asked me to marry you?”

He went down on one knee. “Marry me, please, Willy. Save me from a life of lonely misery.”

She wiped her eyes. “So much has happened today. So much that’s fine and good amid so much wickedness.”

“Let’s try to forget the bad. This grass is damp—give me your answer, please.”

“
Yes
,” she said laughing. She fell to her knees beside him. She kissed his forehead, his eyes, his lips. “
Yes, yes
.”

He helped her up, and took a jeweler’s case from his pocket. The huge diamond twinkled in the moonlight. He slipped it on her finger and without giving her time to respond he led her towards the cottage. “Pack your bag. We’re travelling to Peak Village tonight.”

She gasped. “All the way to the Peak district. Are we to visit my family?”

“In a month or two we shall pay a visit to your father and sisters. The law in Peak Village allows a preacher to marry us immediately. And I’ve wanted to make love to you since that day by the river at Hawkeswood. I can’t wait any longer.”

She laughed and stroked his cheek. “Neither can I.”

He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her—a long, passionate kiss.

“Wait,” she said, breaking away from him as a thought occurred to her.

“Now Willy,” he warned, sensing trouble.

“We can’t leave Dix,” she insisted. “And he won’t go without Frederick.”

Blake groaned. “My romantic carriage ride and honeymoon are to be ruined by a boy and a damned dog.”

“
If
you truly love me, Blake,” she said smiling, confident of his love, “You will not make me break my promise to Dix.”

“I must have bats in my belfry, but yes, let’s go and tell him.”

Delighted, Susan kissed Willy and hugged Blake. Dix sat quietly, his face pale and expressionless.

Willy went to him. “You’ve been through so much, my young knight in shining armour,” she said. “What do you wish to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t want to leave here, but…”

“May I say something?” Susan asked quietly.

“Go ahead, Susan,” Blake said.

“If Dix would like to stay here with me, I would love to have him. He could go and visit you both on occasion.”

“What do you say to that, Dix?” Willy asked.

“May I keep Frederick here with me?” Dix asked.

“It’s a huge sacrifice I make, but you may,” Blake said, smiling.

The boy nodded.

“Then it’s settled,” Susan said, coming to give Dix a hug.

The boy stood. To Blake he suddenly appeared years older as he said, “I’ll miss you, Willy. But it’s better I stay here. Susan needs me.”

“If you’re sure…” Willy began.

“You’ve made a wise choice.” Blake shook his hand. “You may come and visit at Hawkeswood anytime you wish.”

Willy kissed Dix goodbye and patted the dog’s head. “Be good, Frederick, and look after Dix and Susan.”

“Come, my love,” Blake stood. “We have a long trip ahead of us.”

The coachman and the groom had been slumbering in the hayloft. They backed the horses into the traces. Rejuvenated by a chicken pie washed down with ale, the coachman picked hay out of his hair, brushed down his coat and climbed up onto the coachman’s step and took his seat. The groom followed.

Under the carriage rug, Willy settled herself against Blake’s chest, his arm around her.

“What made you come to find me?” she asked sleepily.

“Vincent told me where you were.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “When he said you’d refused his offer of marriage, I knew there was hope for me.”

“We got off to a very bad start,” she said.

“I didn’t put much store in marriage. My parent’s weren’t happy. My father was a cold man.”

“Was he? He was very nice to me.” Willy fingered her locket. “And now Aunt Elizabeth has found happiness with Henry. I’m so delighted for her.”

“Mother and Henry made me view the institution of marriage differently. I felt hopeful for our future together. I’ve been a stubborn fool, Willy.” He kissed her fingers. “I hated being without you.”

The rocking of the carriage made Willy’s eyes droop. She was soon asleep.

“You are worn out, my love. Sleep well.” He arranged her comfortably against him, drew his hat over his eyes and began to doze.

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Chapter Sixteen

After a night spent in separate rooms at an inn and a change of horses, Willy looked out the carriage window to see at last the wild beauty of the Peak District, miles of dry-stone walls dividing the hills into a patchwork of fields. She watched a train puff its way through the green valley. They crossed the River Derwent, stopping at villages for refreshments along the route, with Blake keen to go on.

They talked honestly for the first time, really talked. She told Blake about her life in Northumberland with her sisters, their lives saddened by the untimely death of their mother. And she felt for the first time that she knew the man soon to be her husband. A passionate man whose gaze made her limp with desire. A man of honor who would not touch her before marriage, beyond kissing her lightly on the forehead, the corners of her eyes and her cheek. A man so handsome that women turned to stare after him in the street. A little of the boy remained in him too, who had suffered his father’s rejection and his mother’s misery. It left him with mixed feelings for his childhood home—a home he felt his duty to maintain for the rest of his life and for his descendants.

“I won’t kiss you again,” he said at one point on the journey. “If I do, we may celebrate our union in this carriage.”

She would not have minded. She was not nearly as honorable as he. Passion rose in her like a hot flame and she longed for him to make love to her.

Peak Village was small and charming. Blake secured a bedchamber and private parlor at the Station Hotel. He left Willy to bathe and change and went in search of the preacher. She dressed in the best gown she had brought with her, a pale yellow silk. She dressed it with a seed pearl necklace and earrings and of course, her locket. Blake came knocking on the door an hour later. When she opened it, he held out a bouquet of daffodils, tiny, white crocuses and purple irises.

“Oh, how lovely.” She held them to her nose.

“Not the exotic flowers you would have had in London, but you look so pretty, Willy. Do you mind not wearing the wedding gown?”

“Not a bit.”

“We are due at the church at two o’clock. The preacher’s organist is to attend as a witness. I must wash and change.”

“I’ll wait in the parlor,” Willy said.

“For the last time, my love,” he said as she went to the door.

Willy’s heart was full to overflowing as she gazed in the parlor mirror tucking tiny, white crocuses in her hair.

When her handsome man appeared and offered her his arm, she walked with him down the lane to the church, set among green fields dotted with wild flowers.

An elderly man played Mendelssohn’s wedding march on the organ as Willy and Blake stood before the altar.

Blake placed his diamond studded signet ring on Willy’s finger. The ceremony was over quickly with only the two congregants and the preacher to wish them well. They emerged from the church and gazed at one another. His blue eyes were filled with the love she’d always yearned to find there. “So much time wasted, Willy,” he said huskily. “Come my bride, and we shall drink to our future happiness.”

The stopped at the hotel for a glass of wine, and then made their way to their room. As they approached the stairs, a marmalade cat appeared, meowing and rubbing against Willy’s skirts. “Oh, how sweet,” she bent down to it. “I do believe she’s soon to have kittens,” she said. “I wonder…”

Blake took her hand and led her up the stairs. “The cat seems perfectly happy, having recently enjoyed what I refuse to delay a moment longer.”

“Oh, Blake,” she said blushing.

He locked the door to their bedchamber and came to take her in his arms. “My love,” he said softly and kissed her. “Let me help you undress.”

She removed her pearls and the locket.

He took the locket from her. “You never take this off, do you?”

She shook her head, watching as he flicked it open with his thumb.

Inside there was a curl of black hair. “Why, what is this?” he asked, looking up at her.

“A lock of your hair,” she said, her cheeks flaming.

“
My hair
?”

“Remember, when I was twelve, you were having your hair cut. I stole a lock.”

“You’ve had it all this time?”

She nodded.

He looked stunned. “I didn’t see you take it.”

“No. But your father did.”

Blake sat on the bed holding the locket in his hands. Willy sat beside him. “Mother was right,” he said softly. “Oh, Willy, father
was
a wise man, and how lucky I am to have you.” He groaned and took her in his arms, kissing her wildly, his tongue seeking hers. Willy kissed him back and as he pushed her down, she felt his strong, hard body, his desire for her. She ran her hands through his thick, dark hair, drinking in the beauty of his blue eyes. At last, he was truly hers.

Blake began pulling up her skirts as if he needed to be one with her so desperately he could not wait. But he steadied himself and sat up to help her undress.

Her body was, as he always suspected, a delight to the eye. Her pert breasts adorned with pearly nipples, her waist tiny, her thighs and bottom smooth and shapely. He kissed each breast in turn, then drew away and began to remove his clothes.

When she saw the urgency of his desire for her, she gasped. He lay down with her, running his hands over her body, down to the very core of her desire. He stroking fingers sent rivers of heat through her. An urgent desire filled her with longing.

When Blake looked into her clear grey eyes, he welcomed the love and the honesty he found there. He felt as if their souls were entwined.

He made love to Willy gently, as she held him tight and kissed him.

And when they finally rested, she lay back replete and said, “I’d like you to teach me the arts of lovemaking. Such as Dora would employ.”

“What!” He put an elbow under his head and gazed at her, his eyes sorrowful. “I’m sorry about Dora.”

“Why should you be?” she said. “I imagine she was quite an expert at lovemaking. She told me you were an excellent lover and she was right, you are.”

As he lay there helplessly shaking with laughter, she threw one dainty leg over him and straddled him. “But I intend to be better than Dora.”

At the touch of her soft, creamy thighs, his desire flared quickly again. “And make babies,” he said huskily, as he steadied her against him. “I want to fill Hawkeswood with children, so that it’s never a lonely place. And I won’t be the kind of father who hides away in his study.” He groaned as he lost himself in the pleasure of her body moving with his.

“Oh, Blake,” Willy breathed, leaning down to kiss him.

The End