Maggie MacKeever (37 page)

“You didn’t like that? Then what about this?” Playfully, Julie wriggled her hips.

Ned was a doomed man. And felt damned cheerful about it, furthermore. He set about exploring bit by bit, starting with that lusciously provocative lower lip.

Julie’s amusement fled, and with it all coherent thought. She was aware, vaguely, that she murmured, and gasped, and moaned; but she was overwhelmed with the sensation of Ned’s hands and mouth, his hands moving all over her, his mouth burning a trail of pure sensation along her skin. He found each bruise and hurt and healed it with a caress; pleasured her, treasured her, from the arch of her eyebrows to the tips of her toes, not leaving out her bellybutton or the inside of her elbows or the back of her knees, his lips against her breast, his fingers moving between her legs, his manhood hot and heavy against her thigh.

She was drunk with the taste and touch and feel of him. They tumbled amid the silken sheets, at his whim and then hers, because it was her desire to in turn learn his flesh, to touch him every place she could, nip his shoulder and smooth her fingers through his silky hair — it was more than flesh, it was spirit, too, Ned moving over, against, and at long last, into her. There was pain, but not much, and an incredible pleasure that built and built until she tumbled right off the edge of the world.

It was a space out of time. An interval of sheer bliss. When the present caught up with them again, Ned was sprawled spread-eagled on the rumpled sheets, Julie’s warm body atop him, her legs tangled with his.

She was gently snoring. Ned caught one of her bright curls and tugged. “In case you don’t know it, I am
very
partial to you, buttercup,” he said.

Julie yawned and stretched. “I fancy you, too.”

There was no help for it. Ned had to kiss her again.

At length he paused, so that both of them might catch their breath. “I’ve been asked to travel to Vienna when the Allied Sovereigns
resume their negotiations later in the year.”

Julie didn’t ask who had invited him, as he’d thought she might, in which case Ned was prepared to explain his complicated relationship with Lord Castlereagh, even though that gentleman would doubtless prefer he did not. She trailed a lazy finger across his lower lip and said, “Take me with you.”

Ah, the places he could take her. Ned caught her finger and nibbled on its tip. “Anywhere you wish. But you must first marry me.”

Julie pulled back, to stare at him. Her eyes filled with tears.

Ned’s heart cracked a little. “Is it so terrible a notion? I’ve wanted you from the start.” He recalled his first sight of her, damp and furious, wrapped in his drapery, tied up in his chair.

She smiled, also remembering. “I was hoping for a slip on the shoulder. Plain pickpocket Julie couldn’t marry the Earl of Dorset.”

“
I
was wondering if I might get rid of the title.” Julie’s nose had reddened with emotion, and Ned gave it a tweak. “You will have to act the lady sometimes. I promise to make it up to you.”

She swatted at his hand. “Like you have to act the earl. I suppose I’m to make that up to you. It doesn’t matter, does it? That’s what I’ve realized. It doesn’t matter how the world may see us, or whose blood runs in our veins; we’re still who we are. But you must be certain. Granddaughter of a marquess or no, I was clapped in Newgate for pilfering teaspoons.”

“So? They weren’t my teaspoons. If you find yourself with an urge to pilfer others, I’ll tuck them in my barrow until it’s safe to pass them on to an angling cove. Say yes, sweetheart. I don’t know how ordinary we shall be, but I very much want to share your life.”

“Arse over teakettle.” Julie propped her chin on her fist.

Lord, but he adored her. “Why are you looking like the cat that’s got into the cream?”

“I was thinking how your cousin Hannah will dislike hearing that the Earl of Dorset has eloped to Gretna Green.”

Author’s Note

History is a fluid thing. Primary sources frequently don’t agree. I have tried to be as true as possible to actual events while rearranging some minor details to better suit the story.

A partial bibliography follows:

In The Absence of the Emperor
,
London-Paris 1814-
1815, written by Simona Pakenham, published by Cresset Press, London, 1968.

The Age of Elegance,
written by Arthur Bryant, published by Harper and Brothers Publisher, New York, 1950.

The Prince of Pleasure and his Regency,
J. B. Priestley, Harper and Row, 1969

George IV,
Christopher Hibbert, Palgrave Macmillan, 2007

Wellington, The Years of the Sword,
Elizabeth Longford, Harper and Row, 1969

Napoleon on Elba,
Sir Neal Campbell, edited by Jonathan North, Ravenhall Books, 2004

England’s Triumph: Being An Account Of The Rejoicings, Etc., Which Have Lately Taken Place In London And Elsewhere (1814),
printed for J. Hatchard Bookseller to the Queen

I was also fortunate enough to come into possession of the June 1814 issue of
The Gentleman’s Magazine
, which included “Diary of the Proceedings of the Allied Sovereigns”.

Another excellent source of information is British History Online: www.british_history.ac.uk/

Books by Maggie MacKeever

The Tyburn Waltz

Vampire, Bespelled

Waltz With A Vampire

An Extraordinary Flirtation

Lover’s Knot

Love Match

Cupid’s Dart

Lady Sherry and the Highwayman

French Leave

Our Tabby

Sweet Vixen

An Eligible Connection

Strange Bedfellows

Lady Sweetbriar

A Notorious Lady

Fair Fatality

The Misses Millikin

Jessabelle

Lady Bliss

A Banbury Tale

Lady in the Straw

Lord Fairchild’s Daughter

El Dorado

Outlaw Love

Caprice