Page 2 of Wedding the Widow

“He has.” Michael Thorne spoke, his deep bass voice echoing down Elizabeth’s spine.

The power in that voice had her grabbing Lord Brack’s arm once more. She needed an anchor if she was to hear this pronouncement.

Lord Brack seemed just as affected as she. Scarcely taking his eyes off the couple, he tossed back the last of his ale, then dropped the thick glass to the ground. His big hand came down and covered hers, heat streaming through her gloves.

She wanted to grasp his hand as well but couldn’t think what to do with her own glass. It still contained some ale, which she could not drink, though she loathed to spill it on the ground. It somehow seemed sacrilegious. Still, she wanted more contact with the strong male protection next to her. So she stepped closer toward him, almost leaning against him.

He plucked the glass from her hands, swallowed almost half in one gulp, then deliberately poured what remained on the ground around their feet.

Protection against the pagan gods or sacrifice to them? Where had these fanciful notions sprung from all of a sudden?

Again, the raw animal power of the moment washed over her, and she grasped his hand, pressing it to his arm. If she got much hotter, she’d likely steam in the cold air.

“As the seed goes to the fertile ground, so goes the Harvest Lord to his Maiden . . . Nora Burns.” Michael Thorne intoned the ages-old chant, then seized the dark-haired Nora, her face alight with joy and triumph, by the hand and pulled her to him.

A jubilant cry went up from the crowd, a wail of lament from the three would-be Corn Maidens. They scurried out of the circle, arms around each other.

Elizabeth’s heart thumped so hard she gasped for breath. Could Lord Brack feel her pulse pounding in the hand he held so tightly?

The Harvest Lord led his Maiden into the center of the circle, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her above his head, spinning them around. After making a complete circle, he lowered her inch by inch to the ground. As soon as her feet touched the field stubble, he grasped her face—her cheeks red, her eyes snapping with excitement—and lowered his mouth to hers.

A stab of desire jolted Elizabeth, tearing through her like a lightning bolt straight to the apex of her thighs. Her breasts tingled as the Harvest Lord claimed his Corn Maiden.

As Thorne deepened the kiss, Nora threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against the powerful body before her.

Panting, Elizabeth strained forward as well, her hands clasped, viselike, around Lord Brack’s arm. A moan of need began in her throat, but she bit it back. What was happening to her?

She’d not been this aroused in over a year, not since her husband Richard—or Dickon, as she’d called him—had gone away to war. She’d felt his death so sharply she’d not even thought about love or desire for another man. Not until Charlotte had dragged her to the house party in August. There she’d met Lord Brack, who she’d found very amiable but hadn’t thought of as desirable. Well, not exactly. Nor had she paid much attention to his obvious interest in her. Until now.

His arm tensed as he watched the crowning of the Corn Maiden. From the corner of her eye, she marked his Grecian profile as it stood stark against the flickering torchlight, his gaze fixed on the couple before them. His jaw clenched so tightly she could almost hear it creak. He turned his head to peer down at her, his eyes dark with a desire of his own.

Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he turned them away from the sight of Michael and Nora as applause from the surrounding crowd crashed around them. He led her from the lighted circle, toward a stand of trees at the edge of the field.

Elizabeth had expected her senses would return once she no longer bore witness to the incredible raw sexual power of that kiss. Her body, however, continued to throb, then to ache with the need to feel a man’s touch once more.

Lord Brack stopped just at the tree line, well out of the light. He loosed her hands from their grip on his arm, then cupped her face, just as Michael Thorne had done to Nora, and sank his mouth onto hers.

A bolt of fire shot through her, down her arms and legs, through her fingers and toes. Her core heated as though a sun burned at the center, and the ache deep inside her, begun while they had watched the Harvest couple, became a demand she could not ignore.

Brack deepened the kiss, his tongue stealing warm and welcome into her mouth. She arched her neck back, opening herself fully. Let him take her here and now.

As if reading her mind, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her so tightly to him that every muscle in his chest pressed into her, hard as granite, yet comforting as a safe harbor against her hurts and fears. Ah, but she had missed that sense of safety so very much.

Still his tongue explored, now her mouth, now her ear, where his rough, panting breath sent new shivers down her spine. His lips traveled lower, down her neck. She couldn’t repress the moan this time. Her whole body trembled, ached for Dickon to lay her down here on the ground and take her, as he had so many times before.

This wasn’t Dickon.

Like a spray of cold water shaken from a rowan tree onto her naked body, Elizabeth jumped back from Lord Brack, suddenly very aware of who he was and where they were.

He too stepped back, blinking as if roused from a dream. “Elizabeth?”

Covering her face with one hand, she held the other out as if to fend him off. What had come over her?

He didn’t move toward her but looked away, toward the still-lighted circle where Michael and Nora danced wildly with several other couples. “Please forgive me, Mrs. Easton. I’m not sure what just came over me.”

“No, my lord, I must beg your pardon.” Elizabeth didn’t quite know where to look. Not at him, not at the dancing couples. She settled for the ground at her feet. It was probably best he didn’t see her fiery cheeks.

“I am afraid the spectacle of the Harvest Lord claiming the Corn Maiden quite carried me away.” He sighed deeply. “I think you may have been affected by it as well?”