“Wh-What is—”

  “It’s called a French letter,” said Hugh, his voice rasping as he pulled her into him, their legs tangling together. “It’ll prevent any…consequences.”

  Beth nodded, hands pressed against his chest. Oh, this was glorious—there was surely nothing more intimate than this! Lying on a bed together, Hugh completely naked, her only with her undergarments on. Surely nothing could—

  “Let’s free you from that, shall we?” said Hugh in a low voice.

  Beth gasped as his fingers made short work of her corset. It burst open, revealing her breasts, which immediately transfixed him.

  “Oh, Beth…”

  Beth whimpered, her back arching as Hugh lowered his mouth to one of her breasts, his lips capturing her nipple.

  Pleasure, pleasure such as she had never known, was roaring through her. Instincts were taking over. Hugh was somehow nestled between her legs, his elbows keeping him raised as his mouth moved to her other breast.

  “Oh, Hugh, yes,” Beth moaned, unable to hold it in.

  And what did it matter? No one could hear them. She could be as loud as she liked.

  “Hugh, God, yes—”

  Hugh lifted his head. “Beth, I can’t—are you ready for me—you definitely want—”

  “Get inside me, now,” Beth breathed, hardly knowing where these words came from.

  A deep, dark place within her had opened and she wanted nothing more now than to be one with the man giving her such sweet delights.

  Swiftly, Hugh kissed her hard on the lips. “You complete me, Beth. Before I even enter you, I can tell you that—you are everything, you—oh, Beth!”

  Beth cried out too, though her voice was more guttural as Hugh’s manhood pressed into the soft warm wet between her legs.

  And though she had expected pain, there was nothing.

  Well, not nothing. Sparks of unexpected pleasure, rippling sensual decadence, were flowing through her body as he slowly slipped into her.

  Beth clutched at the bedsheets, hardly knowing what was to come next. There could not be any greater pleasure, could there? This was surely the pinnacle!

  Hugh was breathing hard, fully sheathed inside her. “Damn. Oh, Beth—”

  “Kiss me,” she demanded, astonished at her own bluntness but knowing he would not be dismayed.

  Quite to the contrary, it appeared Hugh was driven even more mad by her demand. He kissed her hard on the mouth and she almost cried out as he started to withdraw himself—

  “Hugh!”

  He had plunged back into her, and a glimpse of ecstasy passed through her.

  Beth blinked, hardly able to take it in. Hugh was grinning.

  “Ready?” he growled.

  “Are you?” she shot back.

  Hugh dipped his mouth to hers as his manhood slid almost completely out of her and then plunged into her again. And again. And again.

  Beth could do nothing but cling onto his shoulders as he started to build a rhythm that soared her onto the edge of something splendid. God, this was wonderful—every movement of his manhood teased her, promised something greater then drew away from it, and as her body started to tingle all over and the pleasure almost overwhelmed her—

  “Hugh, Hugh, oh God, yes!”

  And Beth exploded.

  At least, that was what she assumed had happened. Every part of her catapulted over the crest of ecstasy Hugh had been promising her with his body, and he jerked and poured himself into her as she clung to him, hardly able to think as her body pulsed with pleasure.

  And it was over. Hugh fell into her arms, and Beth held him, knowing that what they had shared was something she would never forget.

  The love of a good man. Who could put a price on that?

  Chapter Fifteen

  October 10, 1810

  “And you are sure about this?” asked Hugh, just a little hesitancy in his voice. “You don’t have to—”

  “I’m sure,” said Beth, her voice heavy but head held aloft. “It’s time to go home.”

  The lane they were trotting along on Zeus was narrow and winding, giving them little opportunity to see what was ahead. Hugh was attempting to concentrate on the road, ensure they were unlikely to run into a cart, a carriage, people walking along the side of the path.

  But that was difficult, considering the conversation they were having.

  Hugh swallowed. It was hard to believe it was only days since they had shared the most intimate moments he could imagine.

  “You complete me, Beth. Before I even enter you, I can tell you that—you are everything, you—oh, Beth!”

  He had not quite believed Beth understood what she was willing to give up when she had opened herself for him and permitted him to—

  “Dear God, it’s more than I could ever have dreamed!”

  A flicker of remembered pleasure roared through him, though it faded in the light of day as though it had not been there.

  What they had shared…it was something Hugh would never forget. A closeness, a moment of true clarity he had never expected.

  He wanted to be with this woman. With Beth. Not just today, or tomorrow, but for the rest of his life. The thought of the future without her was so abhorrent, Hugh wondered how he could ever have considered it.

  And now, with Beth sitting once more in his arms as they rode Zeus together, it was almost impossible to believe that this very morning, she had made the decision she had.

  But he was not dreaming.

  “We make for the sea,” Beth said, her voice unwavering. “And find a ferry.”

  Hugh wished they were facing each other, wished he could see her expression. It had been a surprise to him when she announced she was giving up her search for her brother.

  “Time to go back home,” she had said quietly. “Time to accept one woman cannot search the entirety of France and—”

  “But you were always so determined,” Hugh had blurted out. “So eager to find him, so sure—”

  “Well, I am not sure anymore,” Beth had said, a faint smile on her lips. “And if I have one of the most impressive men I have ever met alongside me, and I still cannot find him…perhaps Matthew cannot be found. Perhaps he does not want to be found.”

  Hugh had hated the despair in her voice.

  No, not quite despair. It was worse than that. Resignation.

  That had been then. A few hours of riding toward the coast had followed that conversation. Hugh was not entirely sure whether Beth was certain about her decision.

  He cleared his throat. “Beth, I will keep looking for him with you for as long as—”

  “What about our agreement?” came her reply. It was tinged with a little merriment.

  It was the merriment that twisted Hugh’s stomach. Strange, how swiftly the roles could be reversed. Ever since he had made her acquaintance, he had been—harshly, perhaps—trying to make Beth realize her brother may not be discoverable. That she may have to return to London, at some point, without him.

  And she had argued with him, had she not? Been determined, absolutely, to find him.

  Now they appeared to have taken the other’s argument.

  “Our agreement was to search for a month, yes,” Hugh conceded aloud. “But—”

  “Your sister will not wait, her child will arrive whether we find Matthew or not,” said Beth with a dry laugh. “You may know a great deal about pleasing a woman, Hugh”—and his cheeks burned—“but you seem to have forgotten some basic biology. You’ll be an uncle before too long. Your family needs you.”

  Hugh opened his mouth, hating that no words came to mind, then closed it again.

  Well, hell. He had never thought his lie about a sister in confinement would last this long. That was the trouble with being a Martock. Most of the time, the lie you told ceased all connection with the person you were speaking to, and you never saw them again.

  So it didn’t matter that you had lied.

  But with Beth…well, he had half expected her to give up this fruitless hunt within a day or two. Lying about a sister in confinement would have lasted the day to reach the sea, the day of the crossing, and then that would be it. He could melt back into the chaos of London, and she would never need to know he had been untruthful.

  As it was…

  “Ah. Yes. My sister,” he said, hating himself. “Well, if you are determined—”

  “I would have thought you would know me better than that by now,” said Beth, tilting her head to meet his eye. “Once I have made my decision, I have made it.”

  A smile quirked Hugh’s lips. “I did hear something about that, yes.”

  “Then we’ll keep onward to the sea,” she said, turning away. “It is the right decision. I am sure of it.”

  Hugh tried to hear any hint of concern or regret in her tone, but he heard none.

  Or perhaps he just did not know her sufficiently well. It was hard to remember, after all, that he had only met the vibrant, reckless woman a few weeks ago.

  “How far, do you think?”

  And yet he knew her so well. How she ate food when famished, Hugh thought with a genial smile. How she mistrusted people far longer than they believed. How she rode a horse. How she wanted to be kissed—

  “Hugh?”

  And that was the trouble, wasn’t it? Hugh was starting to discover that though he knew so much about Beth, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything. All that made her Beth—

  “Hugh, can you hear me?”

  Hugh started and Zeus sparked under him, unhappy with the sudden movement.

  “He’s sorry, Zeus, he was just lost in his thoughts,” said Beth, leaning forward to pat the horse’s neck. “What were you thinking, Hugh?”

  Certainly not something he could tell her. “England. Life there after all this time.”

  It was not going to be pleasant, Hugh was certain. Oh, the old house would be there. There was enough money in the Martock coffers to keep a place like that running until the end of the world.

  No, it was the dull social scene he would have to make an appearance in that he dreaded. Lady Romeril would demand invitations, and he would have to host a dinner.

  Hugh tried not to groan. And the dullest people would come, just to have a look at the Duke of Martock. Where had he been? They would all ask. What terrible deeds had he committed?

  “England,” said Beth with a sigh. “I suppose my sister will be furious.”

  “Probably, if she is anything like you,” Hugh teased.

  She turned immediately to glare, only laughing when she saw the mischief in his face. “Hugh Shardlow, I do believe you are ribbing me!”

  “I certainly am,” said Hugh cheerfully. The sun was starting to come out, and he could see the sea in the distance. It was going to be a wonderful day. “But only a little.”

  Because he knew, didn’t he, that the other Miss Mead, whoever she was, was unlikely to be truly upset with her sister. Not when Hugh revealed himself as a duke and proposed marriage to Beth.

  He had to ask her. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Was that not the very purpose of matrimony?

  Oh, the ton would argue it was about money, prestige, alliances, power. They would expect him to choose a duchess from a noble family who brought plenty of money, perhaps even her own jewels.

  But what did he care? Hugh grinned, happiness welling in him. The Duke of Martock never did what anyone in society expected anyway, so why not live up to those wild expectations?

  Why not bring home a penniless, brash bride?

  “Your sister will be happy to see you, I suppose?”

  Hugh barked a laugh. “There will be few in London happy to see me, Beth. I told you before, my father hardly had a pleasant reputation, and all the men in my family…generations of liars and cheats.”

  He had been too open. Immediately trying to think of a way to ameliorate what he had just said, Hugh tried desperately to think. Damnit!

  “But you’re not like that,” said Beth conversationally as Zeus trotted along the road.

  There was salt in the air now. Hugh could scent it as he breathed in. They were almost there. The crossing would not take long, and they would be in England. And he could tell her, reveal to the woman he loved—for he did love her, Hugh knew that now—that he was a duke, and that all her problems were over.

  Excitement rushed through him. How delighted she would be! How glad he had kept that particular part of him private until he could be sure she held affection for him unsullied by the temptation of a title.

  Or poisoned by the recognition of your title, Hugh thought. If she knew he was a Martock…

  “You seem remarkably happy,” commented Beth as they reached the outskirts of the little town nestled against the sea.

  Ships were visible in the distance, their rigging flapping and snapping in the wind. Hugh’s heart skipped a beat. Not long now.

  “I do?”

  Beth nodded, twisting in his arms to meet his gaze. “Yes. Very happy.”

  Hugh’s stomach tied itself in a knot. “That…that’s because I have you.”

  Why was it so difficult to tell the full truth of the matter? Having Beth in his arms, in his confidence, hopefully before too long in his bed…it was everything he wanted. How strange to think he had come to France merely because he was bored. He had certainly found the remedy to his boredom. He didn’t think he would ever be bored again married to Beth.

  She beamed at his words. “Truly?”

  Hugh responded the only way he knew how. He leaned forward and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  Beth clung to him, her balance almost lost as the horse continued along.

  Oh, that kiss. It was a kiss of equals, something Hugh had never shared before. He was more noble than her, but only by birth. Beth was the one who was truly noble, whose instincts had never led her wrong as she attempted to do what was right for her brother.

  Well, muttered a dark voice at the back of Hugh’s mind. She was wrong, except with you.

  Hugh broke off the kiss. “Come on, we should dismount. It’ll be easier to get to the docks that way.”

  Beth’s cheeks were bright red as she obeyed, slipping into his arms then stepping out of them, her gaze darting about her.

  It was all he could do not to smile. He had hardly noticed anyone else around them, his attention was completely focused on her—but now that he came to think about it, they were in the middle of a busy street. A few curious glances were being shot at them.

  Hugh’s chest swelled. Let them look. He was kissing the woman he loved, the woman who would soon be his wife. What did he have to hide?

  “Careful, Hugh,” said Beth quietly.

  He glanced over to where she was looking and pulled Zeus toward him, out of the way of the regiment of English soldiers that were marching down the street.

  How tired they looked with their red uniforms and dull swords. They had seen battle. Seen the enemy, and probably lost friends, too. Thank the lord he had never—

  “Why—it’s the Duke of Martock!”

  Hugh froze. Dear God, no.

  “Yes, I thought it was, the Duke of Martock himself! Goodness gracious, what’s that old cad doing here?” called out one of the officers.

  Hugh’s heart had entirely frozen in his chest. It couldn’t be. What were the chances someone would recognize him—and now, after almost seven months in the blasted country?

  Now, when Beth was by his side?

  “What is that man talking about, I wonder,” said Beth idly, watching the men pass by.

  The officer who had shouted out his name, Hugh saw with a sinking heart, had left the order of the march and was pushing his way through his men. Toward them.

  Toward me, Hugh thought with a nauseous feeling.

  He had to leave—had to get Beth away from here before she heard something he could not explain.

  But there was nowhere to go. The marching regiment had pushed all the French townspeople to the sides of the street; they were pinned in—and with Zeus beside them, there was nowhere they could go. What was he going to—

  “It almost looks like he’s making for us,” Beth commented, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “How strange. Perhaps he has mistaken you for—”

  “Get back onto Zeus, Beth, we need to go.”

  She blinked up into his face, astonished at his words. “Go? But—”

  “Please, Beth, I am asking this as a favor,” Hugh said hurriedly, his words spilling over each other in his haste.

  He had to get her out of here; he had to ensure she didn’t hear—

  “Martock! Goodness, I thought you were in London!” cried the officer, slapping Hugh on the back. “Thought you’d finally come to see what all the fuss was about, eh?”

  It was the nightmare Hugh never thought he would have to face. It was the loss of everything he had built, albeit in a small time, with Beth. And it was all going to be destroyed before his eyes.

  “Martock?” Beth said, looking between the two men. “I don’t know a Martock—who are you, sir?”

  Even in the midst of his panic, Hugh had to smile. Trust Beth to speak to an officer like that, all brashness and no deference.

  The officer bristled. “I will have you know, young lady, I am Captain Lister of—”

  “How very pleasant for you,” Beth said, cutting across him with that icy coldness Hugh knew all too well. “On your way.”

  Hugh’s breath caught in his chest. Was it possible—was his luck going to hold? Would Beth never find out the truth merely because she did not like the way the officer spoke to her?

  “I merely thought I would speak to His Grace for a moment, I am sure,” snapped Captain Lister haughtily. “We are acquainted, after all, even if His Grace will not own me. Lady Romeril introduced us, and—”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Beth slowly.

  “Beth,” Hugh said quietly. “I—”

  “There is no duke here, and I think I would know about it if there was!” she continued with a wry smile at Hugh, as though they were both sharing the joke. “Isn’t that right, Hugh?”

  Hugh tried to smile. That was all he had to do, smile. Make it clear he understood the joke, then Captain Lister could be on his way, and everything would be as it was.