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“That’s it, sweet Rachel,” he murmured as he put her on the bed. “Trust me. I will always take care of you.”
Not if they hanged him. But she wouldn’t think of that, couldn’t even bear the thought of it. The familiar smell of him—horses and cold weather and sandalwood soap—evoked the most intimate of memories, making her burn to feel his skin against hers yet again.
“We are making a mistake,” she warned. The further in love she let herself fall, the harder it would be to recover. In this moment, she doubted she would ever get over him. She feared she’d die a lonely spinster, completely devoted to the only man she’d ever loved—and the one man only a fool would believe she could ever really have.
But she couldn’t resist such overwhelming desire, couldn’t even think straight while his lips were moving down her neck and his hands were sliding up her skirt.
“We are from separate worlds.” She wasn’t sure why she went back to that tired argument. To make him see reason? To remind herself?
Regardless, he was having none of it.
“Then it’s time for our separate worlds to become one,” he told her. “Marry me. I want you to be my wife, by my side no matter what happens.”
This had to be a dream—but if it were, Rachel didn’t want to wake up.
They didn’t take time to remove more clothing than they had to before he thrust inside her. She moaned as she arched back, reveling in that distinctly full sensation she’d known only with him. Truman was here with her now in the most intimate of ways. Maybe they were cheating the world and would pay later, but there was some sort of victory in the here and now, in the celebration of their feelings.
“You will be mine,” he said with a powerful thrust. “Regardless of where or how you were born, you are meant to be mine.”
She gripped his shoulders as she stared up at him. “Do you love me?”
“Would I risk everything for a woman I didn’t?” he asked.
Worry stole some of the enjoyment from her. “I fear you will regret it.”
His lips touched hers, briefly, tenderly. “I could never regret loving you.”
They fell silent after that as the tension grew. There was no reason to talk. The way he made love to her was different this time. It was far more desperate and hurried now that they’d almost lost each other, but there was as much commitment in his actions as in his words. When she reached climax, he smiled but didn’t even attempt to withdraw. He gave an animalistic growl, as if he were laying claim, closed his eyes and let go, willingly spilling his seed inside her.
Because Rachel had wanted to finish cleaning—it was her way of saying good-bye to the house she’d lived in with her family and to the memories it contained—the earl had gone on ahead, saying he’d send his carriage back later. And Timothy had arrived not long after to collect her and her meager belongings.
“Yer really goin’ back to ’im?” Mrs. Tate asked, scarcely able to believe it.
Rachel couldn’t believe it either, but she nodded.
“I wish ye the best, child. I’ve always wished ye the best.”
“I know. Thank you for your unfailing kindness.” She hugged Mrs. Tate as if that one brief embrace would have to sustain her for a long while. What lay ahead wouldn’t be easy. She could already guess that Mrs. Poulson wouldn’t welcome her in her new role. Nor would Wythe. Even Mary, her maid friend, and the kind butler, Mr. Linley, would be shocked and skeptical. Everybody would think the earl had lost his mind. She’d be treated as if she wasn’t good enough for him—and he’d be treated as if he was a fool for wanting her when he could marry into one of the greatest families in all of England.
If she were Mrs. Poulson, Mr. Linley, or any of the other servants or villagers, she’d probably feel the same way. An earl simply didn’t marry a poor miner’s daughter.
But Truman seemed convinced that he wanted her to be with him. And he’d insisted, before he left, that she rely on what he said and not anyone else.
Overcome with a sudden panic, she almost couldn’t bring herself to climb into the earl’s carriage, however—especially when a few of the other neighbors came out to stare at the peculiar sight of the earl’s coach sitting in front of Mrs. Tate’s humble abode.
“Miss McTavish? May I offer you my assistance?” One of the earl’s footmen held the door while Timothy, the driver, remained in the box on top.
Taking the hand the footman offered her, Rachel forced a smile and let him help her inside. But she’d never felt more self-conscious of her low position in life.
“Are you all settled, mum?”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied and he climbed on back before Timothy cracked the whip and they started off.
Rachel rode with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The first time she’d been inside this carriage was the snowy night she’d brought the doctor. So much had changed since then. Was she wrong for agreeing to marry the earl? She didn’t want him to have to cope with the social stigma they would face, but he seemed singularly determined.
Despite the strength of his commitment, when they approached the gates, she almost cried out for Timothy to take her back. She was in love with the earl, but maybe that was precisely the reason she should run away and never speak to him again.
“Timothy?” she called.
He didn’t stop. They started up the drive before he spoke above the grating of the carriage wheels.
“Yes, Miss McTavish?”
It wasn’t easy to get any words out with her heart in her throat. She pressed a hand to her chest in an effort to settle her pulse, but before she could insist he return her to the village, she saw Geordie running toward them.
“I’ll get out here,” she said.
Geordie threw himself into her arms as soon as she alighted. “I am so glad you’re back, Rachel. I hated thinking I wouldn’t get to see you as often.”
Rachel gazed up at the manse. It looked more imposing now than it ever had before. And she was to be mistress of it? “I’m glad to be back, Geordie.”
“The earl has asked Mrs. Poulson to make us some meat pies and savory pudding. He said I can have the afternoon off and the two of us can eat in the parlor and be together as long as we like. Isn’t that nice of him, Rachel? Mum and Dad never cared for him, but he seems like a kind fellow to me.”
“He is a kind fellow, Geordie.” Knowing the earl had provided her with this opportunity so she could tell her brother about their betrothal before he heard the news from someone else, she smiled. “Did he also tell you we are to be married?”
