Page 58 of Through the Smoke


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“I need you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ve never needed a woman like I need you.”

She needed him too. She wanted him to take her hard and fast. Even that wouldn’t be decisive enough to change their situation, but the defiance of it appealed to her. Then she wouldn’t have to fear that this moment might be stolen from her, too. She could feel the firmness of his shaft against her belly and knew he was ready. With the way her body clenched with anticipation, she knew she was just as ready.

For a moment, he seemed willing to forget all that had held him back before. He rolled her beneath him and spread her legs. But when he cursed and shifted as though he would bring her to completion some other way, she wrapped her legs around his hips and whispered, “Truman?”

He seemed pleased that she’d used his given name. “Yes?”

“Just once. Let me feel you inside me this once.”

Truman knew better than to concede. He told himself she didn’t realize what she was asking for. A baby was no small burden for a woman alone. But she insisted that it wasn’t her fertile time of the month. And he planned to make sure she had everything she needed, regardless. That gave him just enough excuse to take the risk.

Allowing himself to succumb to the compulsion that drove him, he eased himself inside her. Thanks to Wythe, he’d made love to Rachel once before, but under much different circumstances. He knew her now, cared for her, and that made such a difference.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Katherine had claimed to be a virgin when they married, but he doubted she’d been truthful about that. Because she used sex as a weapon, or an incentive, he had a hard time believing she hadn’t manipulated other men with certain… opportunities. She’d definitely used her sexuality indiscriminately after they were married.

But Rachel was different. Since this was only her second time—with him or any man—and the first hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped, he wanted to make sure she was comfortable before he continued.

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Better than fine. I want to be joined like this forever.”

He couldn’t resist a powerful thrust. “Then tell me you’ll stay, or I’ll stop.”

When she hesitated, he started to withdraw, but she clutched his shoulders. “I’ll stay.”

Relief as well as pleasure flooded through him as he began to move in earnest. They weren’t down to good-bye quite yet. But knowing they would be soon made every moment precious—every touch, every gasp, every whispered endearment.

Rachel’s body seemed made for his. She quickly caught on to the rhythm, lifting her hips to meet each thrust, but she didn’t close her eyes. She watched him with such intensity that he was staring into her eyes when she gasped and shuddered, and then it was impossible to make himself withdraw. He wanted this too, wanted to let go inside her.

Just once, he said to himself. Just once, and felt the pleasure overcome him.

“Don’t leave me quite yet,” he said afterwards, making sure she wouldn’t as he shifted, exhausted, to one side. But when he woke up, she was no longer in his bed. She wasn’t in her room. She wasn’t anywhere to be found in the house. And the few belongings she’d brought with her when she came to Blackmoor Hall were gone.

Rachel had nowhere to go except Mrs. Tate’s. She didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, especially someone she loved like her dear neighbor, but now that she knew she’d never be returning to the home she’d grown up in, there was no need to try to preserve the belongings that were left. If she could sell the furniture and books that hadn’t been destroyed, she could pay Mrs. Tate for food and maybe retain a small amount for her upcoming travel expenses. Linley had caught her when she was leaving, just before she went to say good-bye to her brother, and assured her that he was working on the arrangements. It wasn’t as if she had to hang on indefinitely. She also had her wages from when she’d worked as a servant to carry her through. That didn’t amount to a lot, given she’d been a maid for slightly less than a month, but it enabled her to leave the earl’s estate with her head held high instead of lingering like some desperate, greedy beggar, hoping to live off his largesse.

She wasn’t in Creswell long, however, before word spread that she was back. She wasn’t sure how everyone figured it out. Maybe the servants at Blackmoor Hall had gossiped to certain vendors who returned to the village with the news, but several people came by, including one of the hewers she’d worked with—Mr. Greenley. Mrs. Tate turned him and all the others away. Rachel had no idea if Greenley had come to apologize or berate her but she didn’t want to find out.

By nightfall, even Mr. Linley came knocking. Rachel could hear him ask to speak with her, could hear him say the earl had sent him to ask her back, but she refused to come to the door. There was nothing he could do to convince her to return to Blackmoor Hall. She loved the earl too much to give the duke any reason to withdraw the offer that would protect him from prosecution.

“Ye won’t say a word to ’im?” Mrs. Tate asked, her voice low since there were only two rooms in her house, and the door and Mr. Linley wasn’t that far away.

Rachel shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“But ’e’s adamant that ’e speak with ye. ’E says ’e shouldn’t ’ave let ye go this mornin’.”

“I heard.” She couldn’t allow herself to be tempted. Now that it was growing dark, she missed the earl—missed Truman—more than ever.

Once Linley left, Rachel went to bed feeling cold and lonely and cast adrift on a mighty ocean of change.

London will be a good place for me, she told herself. She couldn’t imagine she’d like it, but at least she would have a clean slate. She wasn’t important enough that her reputation would follow her. She hoped. The fact that her only reference would come from Blackmoor Hall concerned her. She didn’t want to be the notorious maid who’d had an affair with the notorious earl. Would she be better off striking out on her own?

Mrs. Tate’s voice rose in the darkness, from where she was sleeping in the other bed. Apparently she’d been tossing too much and had given away her inability to sleep. “When ye came, I thought… I thought ’e was done with ye. But it didn’t sound that way when ’is butler showed up. Why’d ye leave?”

“I didn’t want to lose sight of who I really am,” she said.

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