The Stolen Bride (6 page)

The women were rising now and preparing to leave. He recognized Virginia, and Tyrell had his arm around a lady with titian hair. The rest of the de
parting crowd was meaningless to him, except for his mother. She was smiling as she led the ladies from the room. The countess remained as graceful and elegant as ever, but he saw that she seemed older. He didn’t fool himself—his disappearance must have distressed her to no end.

Then Sean realized that one woman had walked away with Rex. His gaze slammed back to her—and his heart stopped.

For one instant, he was paralyzed. She had changed—but he would know her anywhere. And there was so much relief, huge and consuming, that he almost collapsed against the window.
Elle
.

Nothing was left of the gawky, intrepid child—but then, if he dared to recall his last night at home, the young blossoming woman he had left four years ago had been anything but childlike. He hadn’t forgotten how tall she was, but the planes and angles of her face, like the planes and angles of her body, had finally vanished. She had become lush and voluptuous. The gawky child was now a beautiful woman, capable of stunning a man senseless.

Watching her charm his brother, he felt his world turn upside down.

Sean panicked. What was he doing, anyway? He had expected to return to a slender young woman who
had never been kissed, a young woman whom he saw only as a friend and sister. Now she laughed at Rex, her smile dazzling, and he could almost hear her then.

Have I ever told you that you are my favorite
brother?

Words Elle had said to every one of his stepbrothers and to Devlin, to everyone but him.

Realization struck him with the force of lightning, causing him to stagger. He was staring at Elle with need and hunger.

It was impossible, he thought, incredulous and aghast. He could not desire the woman he had considered a sister for most of his life. His body was responding as it would to any beautiful female, due to two years of celibacy, his only relief inflicted by his own hand.

She was walking away from Rex and smiling at a blond gentleman, looping her arm in his. He briefly looked at her escort, realizing that he was her intended, Sinclair. The man was handsome and privileged, with the bearing of a born aristocrat. Sean despised him on sight.

Sean realized he was shaking and desperate. He was furious with her, with Sinclair, with himself. Of course Elle had grown up. He had every right to be surprised by the beauty she had become, but he had
no right to any other feelings. And where the hell was she going with Sinclair, anyway? He returned to the window and realized that the dining room was empty.

The moment he heard the terrace door open, he also heard her laughter, and while the sound was familiar, it was also strange and new. Her laughter had changed. It had become sultry; it was
seductive
.

He pressed his back to the wall, waiting for them to come into view, and as he waited, he realized that his loins were stiff and full. But he barely had time to absorb that terrible fact when they appeared, strolling to the balustrade. They were so engrossed in one another that he did not think they would notice him in the shadows against the house. She moved differently now, too. Her stride was long but there was a sensuous quality to the sway of her hips—a quality he instantly hated. She moved like a woman who knew she was being appreciated and admired, pursued and watched.

“Have I told you how lovely you are tonight?” Sinclair asked, taking both of her hands in his.

Sean felt like choking him into silence.

“I don’t think so,” Eleanor said, a smile in her voice. “But if you did, you can always tell me again.”

She was flirting! Since when had Elle learned to flirt?

“You are so beautiful,” Sinclair said thickly, and Sean hated the rough tone of his voice. They should not be out on the terrace alone, at night. Where the hell was everyone, anyway? She had four brothers to chaperone her. Why wasn’t someone doing precisely that?

“And you, sir, are far too gallant and far too charming,” Elle returned softly. “I am so fortunate to be marrying such a man!”

“A man cannot possibly be too charming or too gallant, not where you are concerned,” Sinclair whispered.

Did he know that his lady love was a hellion? Or had Elle given up her wild gallops, her fist fighting, her swear words? Did she still hunt and fish? Or was she now a debutante and a flirt?

“I am pleased that you are so charming,” Elle whispered back. “I find you very charming indeed, even if your eyes are blue.”

Sean had not a clue as to what that meant, and apparently, neither did Sinclair.

There was a strained silence then.

Sean felt like smashing the wall, because he knew that Sinclair was preparing to kiss her.

“May I? May I kiss you, Eleanor?” he asked.

“I thought you would wait
forever
to ask.” She laughed.

In disbelief, Sean watched Sinclair take her into his arms, slowly lowering his face to Elle’s. The moon chose that moment to come out from behind a single cloud, vividly illuminating the lovers. Sinclair had fused his mouth to hers—and she was kissing him back wildly, clinging to his shoulders.

He leaned against the stone wall, furious and paralyzed, panting hard, but he refused to look away. He could not comprehend the sensual woman in the other man’s arms— Elle, who was kissing him and making small, breathy sounds of pleasure and delight. He pulled at his breeches. She might be a woman now, a very desirable woman, but they had grown up together and he had no right to the lust in his loins.

“I’ve been kissed, Sean!”

He jerked, words she had spoken many years ago suddenly coming to mind. And it was as if she was eleven years old again to his seventeen, and they were standing there in the stables at Adare, amidst the straw and the horses, and she was grinning mischievously at him.

H
E HAD SPENT WEEKS
pursuing a tenant’
s
daughter—
a buxom blonde with a pretty smile and two dimples.
Suddenly he was in the straw with her, his hands
beneath her skirts, and she was weeping in pleasure
and he was so close to unbuttoning his breeches and
moving inside her. He began to do so, taking her
hand and guiding it to where he was stiff and hard.
And he heard a giggle.

Instantly, he knew Elle was spying—again. All
lust vanished. Furious, he leaped to his feet, pulling
his pants together as he did so—only to find her
perched on the top edge of the stall, grinning at him.
Realizing that she had seen everything, he felt his
cheeks burst into flames, and his anger erupted. She
knew, because she leaped down from the top of the
stall, alarmed.

He threw open the bolt and ran through the stables
after her. But instead of fleeing, she stood in the
stable yard, warily waiting for him. He halted
abruptly, as wary. “You are in jeopardy now,” he
warned, meaning it.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I am going to box your ears—hard—and tell
Father what you have done.”

She pranced, just a little. “But you can’t catch me.”

She was right—she was as fleet and as lithe as a
deer. “I don’t enjoy being spied on.”

“Do you love her?” she suddenly asked.

“No!” The moment he spoke, he regretted it, as it
was none of her affair. “Come here, Elle.” He took
a step toward her.

She shook her head, backing away. Then she
grinned. “I’ve been kissed.”

He felt his world become oddly still. “I hope you
are lying, Elle.”

She grinned hugely at him. “No. Jack
O’Connor
kissed me last week behind the chapel.”

Sean was shocked. And then he whirled into
action, striding back to the stables, calling for a
groom and a horse.

Eleanor ran after him. “Where are you going?”

“I am going to kill young Jack
O’Connor
.” He
meant it. He had never been more furious—Elle was
just a child!

Eleanor grabbed his arm. “Wait! Don’t! It was my
fault!”

Sean faced her grimly. “Did he kiss you, or not?”

She bit her lip. “I kissed him. Like this.” And she
threw her arms around Sean, actually leaping up to
kiss his lips.

He hauled her off. “You threw yourself at that boy?”

“Why not? You kiss all the girls! And all the
ladies! You are a rake! Father says so.”

Recently, he and his brothers had been tearing up
the countryside, testosterone raging. He flushed. “You
can’t spy on me anymore! I’m not a boy now, Elle!
You’ll see things you shouldn’t!” He was truly aghast.

“Like you putting your hands down her bodice—
and touching her between her legs?” She smiled mischievously
at him, then mimed, “Oh, oh, OOHH!”

He’d had enough—a boxing of the ears would not
do. Sean reaced for her, but she darted quickly away.
He set chase, determined to somehow corner her so
he could thrash her at least once. She started to
laugh, putting a tree between them and dancing just
out of his reach every time he tried to seize her. She
might be as quick as a hare, but he had fortitude, and
sure enough, in a few more moments, she started to
scowl, clearly becoming bored.

“All right, I give up,” he said quietly, turning away.

She sighed and left the safety of the tree, and he
whirled and grabbed her by her ear.

“Ow! Ow!”

He shook her well, not once, but twice. “The next
time I catch you spying on me, I am turning you over
my knee, as if you were five or six.”

“All right! I’m sorry! I swear!” she begged, wild
-
eyed.

“Ladies don’t swear—but then, you’re a hellion
not a lady.
Let’s
go.” Not releasing her ear, he started
to walk away from the stable, Elle in tow
.

“I am sorry—and I won’t swear!”

“You’re not sorry—and you’ll probably swear at
your wedding!”

“Don’t take me to Father!” she begged, a tear
falling.

He halted. In spite of what she had done—and
what she had seen—he did feel sorry for her. He
transferred his grip to her arm. “Did you really kiss
Jack?”

She hesitated. “Yes, I did, but on the cheek—not
the mouth.”

“I thought so.” He sighed. “Ladies don’t lie, Elle,
they don’t kiss boys, and they don’t swear.”

“I hate being a lady,” she pouted.

He had to smile—and she smiled back
.

“E
LEANOR
—I
LOVE YOU
.”

Sinclair’s breathless declaration jerked Sean back into the present. He didn’t want to remember the past, but he didn’t want to watch Elle making love to another man, either. Sinclair held her face in his hands. The man was visibly shaking and Elle, damn it, was smiling at him—as if she were in love.

“I am trying very hard to be a gentleman,” Sinclair whispered, “but you make it almost impossible.”

“It’s only the two of us,” Elle murmured. “No one
will ever know if you are being a gentleman tonight or not.”

Sean started to step forward to intervene but caught himself in the nick of time. Was she suggesting that Sinclair take even more liberties? She had been such a wild and headstrong child, he knew she was a wild and passionate woman. Had she already taken her fiancé to bed? Elle never denied herself anything that she wanted and he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t care at all about her virginity, but that she would most certainly like bed sport.

And they were kissing again.

Sean slammed his fist into the wall then. Where the hell were her brothers, damn it? Was he going to have to witness her lovemaking all night? Because he didn’t think he could stand it.

Elle leaped out of Sinclair’s arms. “What was that?” she cried, glancing quickly around.

He forgot about his dilemma, willing himself into invisibility as he sank as tightly as he could against the wall.

“What was what?” Sinclair asked, his tone disgustingly thick again.

“Didn’t you hear that?” Elle asked, appearing bewildered. “Are we being spied on?”

“Darling, who would spy on us?”

“Rex, is that you?” Eleanor demanded, scowling now.

“Oh, God,” Sinclair said. “Your brothers are very protective of you—which is laudable, of course, but each and every one has privately made it very clear to me that I had better be a perfect gentleman until we are wed.” Sinclair cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should go back inside.”

Elle shook her head. “Oh, don’t mind them! They are all swagger and high commands. I can manage Ty, Rex and Cliff. Have no fear! I am enjoying being kissed, Peter,” she added boldly.

Sean felt like grabbing her by the ear as if she were eleven years old and shaking her until time went backward and she was an innocent, if vexing, child once more.

Suddenly the terrace door opened and an odd footfall sounded. Sean recognized Rex—and then he realized that he had lost half of his right leg and he was using a crutch. He stared, shocked.

He hadn’t known.

But then, he had been gone for so long, how would he have known that his stepbrother had suffered such a wound?

Rex limped over to the lovebirds. “I thought it might be wise to interrupt this enchanting tryst. The
two of you are not married yet.” He smiled, but without mirth.

And in that single instant, Sean recognized a kindred spirit—Rex had changed from the inside out. Although he had never mourned the loss of his own soul, he ached for Rex’s loss now.

“I am twenty-two,” Elle exclaimed. No other woman would ever refer to her advanced age. “I hardly need a chaperone.”