That devilish tongue of his swept over her in slow, easy strokes, stoking a fire within her so furious that she thought she’d surely burst. He stopped, denying her release, and rose over her until he was staring down at her with adoration in his eyes. He said nothing, but the look upon his face spoke volumes about his love for her as he carefully eased himself inside her. And then it was gone, replaced by lust and the same burning need that she could feel swimming through her own veins. She wrapped her legs around him, forcing him closer and urging him to move—slowly at first and then with faster and harder thrusts.
“Lucy,” he muttered, his voice was low and guttural, “I can’t…I mean, I don’t…Christ, Lucy, I’m about to…”
“Me too,” she said, panting for breath as the first tingles began to rise up her legs. They trickled through her and settled in her groin, intensifying and expanding until they finally shattered on a burst of energy. A groan of pleasure escaped her lips at the same time as it did from his, the tremors of passion rippling through both of their bodies.
As their breathing slowed and their bodies returned to a calmer, more sedate state of being, William rolled to the side and pulled her up against his chest, hugging her against himself with an arm and a leg. “You’re just as eager as I remember,” he said, chuckling against her hair, sweeping it aside a little so he could kiss her neck.
“Mmm…I missed this, William. I missed us. It will be good to get home again, so we can do this more often.”
“How often are you thinking?” His voice was teasing in her ear.
She smiled but knew he couldn’t see it, so she added a coquettish ring to her voice instead. “At least once a day, my lord, perhaps even more.”
“More?” He spoke in a near growl, and she knew that she’d just stoked his desire again. His hand trailed over her stomach and down toward the soft curls between her legs.
She turned onto her back and reached for him. “I believe my appetite for this…ahem, activity…has become quite insatiable.”
With a bark of laughter, he rolled on top of her. “It seems I have my work cut out for me, my dear, but to tell the truth,” he said as he lowered his head and kissed her gently on the tip of her nose, “nothing in the world gives me greater pleasure than pleasuring you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Do you really think that the sultan helped my father procure this pendant for my mother?” Lucy asked as she lay wrapped in William’s arms after yet another bout of lovemaking.
He ran his fingers slowly up and down her arm, watching as her fingers brushed against the gold heart that lay nestled at the base of her throat. “I’ve no idea,” he told her honestly. “We can ask him if you like. In any case, we probably should rise. I’m certain that both Ryan and Trenton are quit eager to see you again.”
Lucy nodded, then bit down on her lower lip as if she was contemplating saying something more. William didn’t press her, and after a couple of minutes, she turned her head enough to meet his gaze. “I found out who’s behind all of this,” she said. There was a sadness to her voice that was mirrored in her eyes, and it immediately had William on alert. He frowned but again said nothing, though his hand had paused its playful movement, forgotten as suspense took over. “Stanton told me that it was my uncle. I can’t prove it of course, so he’ll probably get away with it. I just…”
“Shh…” he whispered, spotting the tears in her eyes and pulling her closer in a tight embrace. He hated seeing her so miserable. “I’m sorry to hear it, Lucy. We’ll think of a way in which to make him pay for what he did.”
“How?” Her voice was desperate. “We can’t just march into his home and accuse him of murder. He’ll only deny it and have us escorted out. There’s no evidence.”
It was a difficult situation, to be sure, but William was not about to give up so easily. He wanted Lucy to be happy—or at least as happy as she would ever be. There was no doubt that she would always be haunted by the memory of what had happened and by the knowledge that her closest living relative betrayed all of them for material gain. It would definitely be a difficult burden to bear, but perhaps it would be easier for her to move on with her life if she knew that justice had been served. It was a hope worth fighting for. “Come,” he told her as he sat up and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s dress. We have a great deal to discuss with Mahmud if we are to return to England before Christmas.”
Lucy frowned. “Christmas? I’ve had no sense of time here. After everything that’s happened, it would be lovely to celebrate the holidays in our own home.”
“Then you’d better get a move on,” he said with a grin as he walked across to some clothes that had been neatly laid out on one of the divans. His shirt, jacket, and breeches were there, along with a pretty, white cotton gown intended for Lucy. He held it up for her to see, noticing the way her lips curved into a warm and appreciative smile. There was no question that she would be happy to abandon the cropped top and şalvar trousers forever.
As soon as they were both dressed and William had helped Lucy fashion her hair into something that didn’t reveal their recent activities too much, he opened the door to their room and found Amir waiting for them. He immediately wondered how long Mahmud’s servant had been standing there but decided not to dwell on it. “His majesty awaits,” Amir said as he gave William a small bow. “Suivez-moi.” He then started down the corridor while William reached for Lucy’s hand, settling it in the crook of his arm so he could escort her like a proper English gentleman.
They followed Amir for what seemed like an eternity through vast rooms and across two courtyards until they were led out onto a large balcony that had been shaded by a canopy. It was mid-October, but the Mediterranean sun still shone brightly in the sky, warming the air to a pleasant enough temperature. Looking around, William spotted his brother, Trenton, and Mahmud, already seated on cushions upon the ground, and with a low, square table between them. They immediately got up to greet Lucy, Ryan ignoring all etiquette as he gathered her up in a tight embrace. “We were so worried about you,” he said. Trenton, standing a little to the side, blinked, and William hid a smile. There was something heartwarming about the otherwise serious earl forcing back a tear or two, though William was not about to say as much; he’d likely earn himself a beating if he did.
“Please,” Mahmud spoke, gesturing toward the table that stood ready with a vast meal upon it, “let us celebrate with a feast.”
They each took their seats and allowed a couple of servant girls to fill their glasses with wine. “Thank you for your help, Your Majesty,” Lucy said after taking a sip in response to a toast made by Mahmud. Her voice was soft and meek. “You have been most kind toward all of us.”
“It was the least I could do,” Mahmud replied with a note of sympathy to his voice. “I considered your father a friend. And to think of what that beast did…I am glad that there has been put an end to him.”
“I was wondering…” Lucy’s voice was hesitant. “You said that you recognized my pendant because it was a special order item that you helped my father obtain. Is that true? For some reason I thought my mother had it long before we even came here.”
Mahmud chuckled as he placed a pancake upon his plate and began pouring honey on top of it. He shook his head and reached for some chopped almonds. “Your memory is correct. Your mother already had the pendant when I first met her, but Lord Stanton had no way of knowing this, so I set out to deceive him in the hopes that he would make a mistake.” He folded the pancake neatly around the honey and almonds. “You must agree that my plan worked out quite well.”
William stared at Mahmud as it all began to make sense. “You wanted him dead.”
“Like I said, it would have been difficult to convict him without proof. I certainly couldn’t have allowed you to kill him without punishing you as well, unless of course you had good reason to act. I merely nudged things along a little, and once he threatened my life…Well, nobody will begrudge you your actions, mon ami.”
“But you could have been killed yourself,” Lucy said in a voice of pure and utter amazement while Ryan and Trenton both appeared dumbfounded.
“A chance I was willing to take,” Mahmud assured her, “though I had every confidence in your husband’s ability to act swiftly. Say what you want, William, but you were desperate for Stanton’s head. The only thing you needed was an excuse, which you were given. Shall we leave it at that?”
William blinked. He hadn’t realized how shrewd Mahmud could be until now and found himself admiring his strategy. “Perhaps it is our turn to bluff,” he muttered as he picked up a slice of melon and bit into it, savoring the sweet, juicy flavor. His eyes found Lucy’s. “I think I’ve just figured out how to get your uncle convicted. We don’t need proof, Lucy. We just need to convince him that what we’re saying is true.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
England, December 22, 1817
Two miles from Hampstead House
“Try to relax,” William said as the carriage rocked back and forth on the uneven road. “It will all be over soon.”
Lucy drew a quivering breath. “My stomach is in uproar, William. I’m so nervous that I fear I may be ill at any moment.”
“Shall I ask the driver to stop for a while so you can get some fresh air? It might help.”
“No.” Lucy shook her head. She pulled the heavy blanket further up around herself. “The sooner we get out of this cold, the better.”
William nodded and pulled her closer against himself, hoping to offer her a little warmth. A thin layer of snow had settled upon the landscape all around them—a scenery quite different to what they’d left behind in Constantinople only a few weeks earlier. He was now plagued by frost biting at his toes and could only wonder how Lucy must be feeling with her much thinner slippers. They really should have stopped by Moorland on the way, but Lucy had insisted on having the matter pertaining to her uncle settled immediately so it wouldn’t be hanging over their heads for Christmas.
Instead, William had sent Ryan to Moorland in order to inform their father and the servants of their imminent arrival. Trenton had parted ways a little later, eager to return to Whickham Hall, where they all knew that Alexandra would be anxiously waiting, forever worrying about her husband’s safety.
Another carriage carrying the local constable followed behind them. William had stopped in town to have a word with him while Lucy had remained in the landau. He’d explained the situation as quickly as possible, adding that they lacked the proof that would be required in order to make an arrest, but that they hoped to obtain a confession, and that it might be prudent for the man to accompany them. The hundred pound note he’d offered (not as a bribe, of course, but as means of payment) had probably helped as well, he thought with a wry smile as Hampstead House came into view in the distance. It was similar in size to Moorland Manor, but the architecture appeared more austere and foreboding—not at all the sort of place that he would have envisioned Lucy growing up in.