Wicked Mourning (3 page)

Chapter Three

They came upon Clara’s mother-in-law peering out the terrace doors. Amelia Blackstone’s scowl turned Reggie’s pleasant afternoon to ashes.

“There you are, Mrs. Blackstone,” Reggie exclaimed. “Clara has been wondering where you’d gotten to.”

 Mrs. Blackstone crossed her arms beneath her ample breasts. “I’ve been looking for my daughter-in-law for the past hour.”

“Well, then,” Reggie added smoothly. “Now we have all found each other. Shall we take tea on the terrace?”

Mrs. Blackstone gave a little huff and stepped out into the sunshine.

He rolled his eyes at her indignation and led Clara to a deep cushioned chair. Reggie hovered until she was settled comfortably and made small talk until Mrs. Blackstone cleared her throat importantly.

“I have good news, Clara. My husband’s father has summoned us to live at his estate in Whitstable.”

Reggie’s heart stopped and he turned to see Clara’s reaction.

She clutched her hands together over her unborn child. “That is quite unexpected, mother Blackstone.”

Mrs. Blackstone huffed. “Not entirely unexpected. That child you carry could be his heir, if you’ve sense enough to deliver a healthy boy.”

Reggie clenched his teeth at yet another cold-hearted reference to Clara’s child. Boy or girl, he would love the babe as his own if given the chance. And with this new invitation that would take them away from him, Reggie would have to alter his plans and timetable considerably to make his wish a reality.

Clara swallowed. “I’ll do my best.”

A tea tray was set before them and Reggie indicated for Clara to pour.

He turned to Mrs. Blackstone. “That was kind of your father-in-law to invite Clara to visit, but she’s welcome here for as long as she likes.”

Mrs. Blackstone’s lip curled. “My grandchild should be raised among family. I’ll not have speculation surrounding his parentage under question. The gossip is bad enough already.”

Reggie ground his teeth. Foolish, blind, old woman. It was not Clara who started the talk in the first place. It was Mrs. Blackstone’s own inconstant son.

“Tea, Reggie?”

He glanced sideways and saw the plea in Clara’s eyes. She wished him to let the discussion pass and he couldn’t blame her. A day filled with such promising pleasure should not be spoiled by pointless squabble. He took the cup, murmured his thanks and drank.

Clara hastily poured a cup for her mother-in-law, but when it came time to pour hers, the pot shook in her hands. Hot tea splashed across the table.

“Good grief, Clara, clumsy girl. I’ll never understand what my son saw in you.”

A bright flush crept over Clara’s skin as Reggie pulled her hands away from the mess. He signaled for a footman to replace the setting.

Clara squeezed his hand. “I did not injure myself,” she whispered.

Regardless of the impropriety, he kept hold of her hand beneath the table. When the footman disappeared, Reggie turned to Mrs. Blackstone. “I imagine he saw exactly what I see. An elegant, intelligent woman who has a grace about her you don’t often find in women these days. And a vast capacity to love. I don’t believe she has a mean bone in her body. Clara should, by rights, be as furious with your son as I am with my late wife.”

Mrs. Blackstone’s mouth fell open inelegantly. She snapped it closed. “How dare you speak ill of my son to me. How dare you speak ill of him before my unborn grandchild.” Her face mottled as she stared him down.

Unimpressed by the display, Reggie did nothing.

Mrs. Blackstone stood suddenly and clicked her fingers at Clara.

Although Clara had previously defended her husband’s memory, Reggie was relieved when she did not immediately agree with her mother-in-law.

Her gaze rose, a defiant light in her eyes. “Yes, mother Blackstone?”

“I wish a word with you in private. Immediately.”

Clara’s grip tightened on his. “I’ve no wish to be rude to Reggie. He’s barely drunk any of his tea.”

Mrs. Blackstone’s eyes widened. “Then we will speak later.”

She hurried off in a huff, her rapid footsteps loud as she traversed the adjoining room.

Reggie blew out a breath. “Thank God the windbag has gone. I do not like the way she snaps her fingers at you.”

Clara sighed and picked up her teacup.

“Still unable to speak ill of anyone,” Reggie whispered close to her ear. “I was serious before about you staying on. I want you to live here.”

Clara spun about in her chair. “I cannot do that. I always feared Mr. Blackstone senior would summon us to Whitstable. Mother Blackstone has been harping on about her father-in-laws eventual reversal for months. Despite his distaste for me, he has no other heir.”

“Of course you can live here.” He chuckled. “Many men actually live with their wives, and I’m led to believe they do it quite happily too.”

“Wife?” Clara coughed. “Can you
ever
be serious?”

Reggie grinned at her words. “Again you doubt me. I really must be doing something wrong when it comes to you. Of course I want you for my wife. I would not engage your affections without having honorable intentions.”

Clara clutched his hand. “But I am carrying another man’s child. If you were to marry me any child born within the marriage would be your legal heir. You could not want that.”

Reggie cupped her cheek. “The child you carry is also yours, my love. I think I’ve hovered over you enough, fretted over your health as much as any expectant father. I want to be the first to know you have delivered the child safely. I want to hold you both in my arms and care for you. There is nothing hard to understand in all that, is there?”

A single tear coursed down Clara’s cheek. She sniffed suddenly then a deluge of tears began that seemed never-ending. Reggie shuffled his chair closer and withdrew his handkerchief. Clara clenched it tight in her hand and dabbed at her streaming eyes.

Quite used to such emotional outbursts from the expectant mother, Reggie waited as patiently as he could. In time her emotions would grow steady again and he would have her answer. He put his arm around Clara and waited.

“Oh Reggie, whatever am I to do with you? You are quite committed to shocking me today.”

He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I had intended to wait until the child comes, but I cannot allow you to be taken away from me now. I’m in love with you, Clara. I think I loved you from the first day we met. Do you remember the occasion?”

Clara sniffed. “You and Blackstone had been out celebrating your new venture and I put you to bed. You said your wife had never tucked you in so sweetly.”

Reggie sighed. “In the end it seems my wife never cared for me much. She only cared that our
London
house be grand enough, and her pin money sufficient for her needs. I suspected her of taking lovers, but I did not know about Blackstone until the end. She made a very poor friend to you too.”

Clara raised a tear stained face to his. “When I think on it, she probably only called to see Blackstone—not me. I was naive to suppose she would care one whit to grace my parlor.”

Reggie pressed his lips to her skin again, forever thankful that the two most inconstant of spouses had left them free. “Could you love me, Clara? Taking care of you these past months has been my greatest joy.”

“You are such a dear man. Of course I could love you. I already do. You have made me so content. But you must also let me take care of you.”

Reggie’s heart burst with happiness. He pulled Clara tight against him.

Clara’s hand dropped to his thigh and skimmed upward. “I must take care of you. I owe you for earlier.”

Her eyes met his and a wicked glint brightened them. Reggie stood and held out his hand before he took her up on her generous offer on the spot. With swift sure strides he led her back through the house and along to his bedchamber. Reggie bolted the door and stripped.

Chapter Four

There was nothing quite like the sight of a man shedding his clothes in a hurry to excite a woman. Reggie flung his clothes left and right until he stood in only his trousers, and even then, they were partly undone.

He prowled toward her and stopped inches away. The urge to touch his powerful chest overwhelmed her. She set her hands to his sleek flesh, and spread her fingers wide. How warm and delicious he seemed. Reggie stood still as she traced the hard ridges of his muscles and bones, flinched when her light touch tickled and breathed hard when her wandering stopped at the waistband of his trousers.

He caught her hand, the one containing her wedding band, and worked it from her finger. When her finger was bare, he kissed the newly exposed skin. “Much better,” he murmured against her flesh.

The grin he flashed melted her heart. What a sweet, dear man.

Perhaps there was something special she could do for him tonight that would compensate for the pain of dealing with Mrs. Blackstone. And she had a wicked idea of what might please him. “I should thank you properly for dealing with my mother-in-law earlier.”

She dipped her fingers beneath the band and skimmed the tip of his erection.

Reggie shuddered. “No thanks required other than marrying me. I’ll be glad when she leaves us in peace.”

Clara smiled and dug her fingers a little harder against his hot flesh.

“Clara, please,” Reggie moaned. “Take pity on me. You are wearing entirely too many clothes.”

She pulled her hands free and turned around. “I will need your assistance again.”

Reggie made short work of her gown’s fastenings. She caught the material before it fell to the floor and held it to her breast. Would her bloated body disgust him?

Clara turned and met Reggie’s gaze. Her heart did a little flip at the small smile he offered. He set his hands to his trousers and undid the buttons then pushed them to the floor. Clara’s mouth grew dry and the gown fell from her fingers. She cupped the smooth cock before her and trembled. She needed him inside her so badly. Moisture coated her thighs as her imagination took flight.

Reggie groaned loudly as she caressed his skin and he undid the ribbon of her chemise then pushed it down over her arms. Unfortunately, she had to stop touching him to remove it, but she caught him in her hand again and inspected him.

Thick blue veins bulged beneath the burning hot length. A perfect specimen she longed to taste. Clara licked her lips and dropped to her knees, ignoring Reggie’s protests. She pressed her mouth to his skin urgently then opened her mouth wide to take him in.

Above her, Reggie gasped and dug his fingers into her hair. But Clara wouldn’t be distracted by the sensation, not when he was so hard for her. She sucked and nibbled, taking her time, torturing him the best way she knew how.

Reggie sifted through her hair and removed the pins from it. A long lock fell forward and she stopped to push it back behind her shoulder.

Before she could kiss Reggie’s cock again, he drew her to her feet. “On the bed with you, love.”

Clara complied, but only because the bed assured her of more pleasure. She sat on the edge and Reggie wriggled between her thighs.

His cock brushed her belly, his fingertips caressed her skin. “I never dreamed you’d be so wonderful. I have waited to feel like this all my life.”

She looked up at him. He appeared awed by her presence on his bed. Clara smiled and wrapped her hands around his hips. “I dream of you. Every night I find pleasure thinking of your hands on me, your cock sliding deep inside me. But I never imagined you for such a romantic.”

He smiled then and kissed her and bore her to the bed. Clara looped her arms about his broad shoulders, loving the way he kissed her like a starving man. She hooked her legs about his hips and opened her body to him.

Reggie shifted and the tip of his cock pressed against her quim. She shook, body desperate suddenly to feel him slide deep. Clara tightened her legs and he slowly possessed her. She writhed on the hot length. Craved friction. Reggie lifted his upper body from her and held himself apart from her with one hand.