Chapter 24
Erva’s eyes had turned round and almost pure amber in the early evening’s sun. She appeared terrified, and it killed Will that she would be fearful. He did not think that the brave woman wasn’t scared of what had almost happened to her. Nay, she was frightened of him, for he knew he was acting boorish.
In an odd embrace, he pulled her closer, resting his unshaven cheek against her smooth, soft one, still amazed at the silky texture, even though he’d touched her face close to a hundred times by now.
“No,” he finally croaked. “Never think me angry with you, darling.”
She slipped her arms about his neck, making him feel that the ground might not crumble below him. Lord, but seeing her with a knife to her throat had made him want to rip that Continental soldier apart with his bare hands. Then the little minx had rescued herself with a nasty good head butt. She was a wonder to behold, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever let her go. He amended that thought: he knew he’d never let her go. Mayhap literally, once his intense fear subsided, but never from his heart.
“I know I should have been a little less crazed about seeing you, but I—I was so scared that history could change,” she said a bit cryptically. Of course, he hoped he understood her meaning that injury might accost him.
Watching helplessly as she could have been harmed, was his first taste of what it must be like for the wives and mistresses of the soldiers. God, he’d never felt more enraged and impotent in his life, and yet simultaneously, he’d never been surer. He loved her. So much.
Words were too uncomfortable to think of then. His throat was thick with sentiment, his chest too.
He pulled out of her embrace enough to ram his lips against hers, needing to taste her more than he needed air to breathe. She instantly returned his kiss, letting him slide his tongue in her mouth, where she sucked it, making him feel his body morph from feeling unbearably hollow to too warm and tight. Exploding energy gripped at his cock as he flicked his tongue against hers. She had one breast against him, and he felt her nipple contract as if he were rubbing it.
The kiss kept intensifying, until he could bear it no longer and kissed down her neck, giving himself some room to breathe or think. But his brain faltered. His only thought was of being inside her, needing that desperately, to know she was his. He needed to feel her under his lips, his hands, his body. Stumbling toward the small table, he placed her on the very edge, urgency calling him to lift her skirts.
He inserted himself between her legs, also thanking God the table was tall enough for what he needed. With one hand he found her buttock, pulling her closer as he began to kiss her again. His other hand instantly found her already wet sex. Circling around the little love pearl at the apex of her legs, he felt her moan inside his mouth. Applying more pressure, for he needed her ready soon, he kept kissing her wildly and hopefully not too hard. She opened her legs all the more for him, while she pulled him closer with her completely capable arms.
He released his hold on her bottom, then tried to extract himself from his breeches. First, he needed to release the belts that held his pistol and sword, letting them fall to the floor. It was difficult with one hand, especially as he kept rubbing against her little nub, but he finally freed his rock-hard erection and found her opening.
He pushed a tiny bit of himself inside her, astonished to feel her body easily let him in. Although he’d made love to her again and again last night, he was pleasantly surprised at how good it felt to be inside her. As if he belonged there. That was his last thought as he thrust into her as far as he could. Growling, he slammed into her again. He clutched at her backside once more, still rubbing her above where their bodies met at a fevered pitch. Her internal organ tightened around him, making him feel that his own would explode soon. In his chest ripples of warm air made his heart beat even faster. Around his solar plexus, a tension began that dipped down to his bollocks and even farther to his toes. With every powerful thrust into her body, the tension built within him.
Her internal muscles suddenly tightened even more. Her kisses became clumsy, but she gripped his coat with all her might. He applied even more pressure on her sex, using both his finger and his cock. Then she tipped her head back and moaned, “William.”
God, he loved it now when she called him that. The formality of his full name on her lips as she climaxed was as sacred as a prayer. She called his name again as her internal muscles milked his cock, making the tension unbearable. The warm rhythm inside his body pulsed, and finally he climaxed.
“Minerva,” he yelled as he poured himself into her. “My darling.” Each time he’d come, he felt that he was giving more and more of himself, but this time he felt as though he’d given his entire soul.
He shook from the ne plus ultra, and drooped, holding his arms on either side of her as she lay on the table. Not too sure how long he could hover over her, he tried to remove himself, but she clutched his arse.
“Not yet, please.”
“I might collapse on you.”
“Okay.”
He silently chuckled as he did release some of his weight on her. Lord, she was still coming. Her internal muscles pulsed and held him tight. He groaned, delighted at how good it felt.
“I asked to retire effectively immediately, owed to my marriage with you. General Howe agreed and wished us congratulations.”
“Mmm,” was all she muttered.
He quietly laughed again.
“God, that feels so good when you laugh.”
He kissed along her neck, tasting the slight edge of salt on her skin. He’d worked up a sweat but was surprised she had as well. Thoughts suddenly invaded the peace of the moment.
“Oh dear, Erva, I’ve just commandeered this house without checking to see if people were here. I hope no one watched us.”
She giggled with her eyes still closed, her sex rippling with her laughter.
“God, that does feel good when you laugh.”
She chuckled even more, but finally opened her eyes. “I suppose we should leave after the show we just gave someone.”
“I suppose.”
“We’ll go home and never leave our chamber for at least two weeks.”
“Shan’t we marry in that time?”
“I’m not sure I’ll let you go long enough to do that.”
He chuckled again, which made her moan. He tried to extract himself again, but she stopped him once more.
She held him by his coat and looked frantically in his eyes. He almost asked what was wrong, when she said, “I love you. I’m not the kind of girl who falls in love after a couple days. And coming from where I’ve been—well, I’ve become such a cynic of love, even outright pessimistic. But I love you so much. I do. I—I—”
“And I love you too, darling. Don’t worry. I’m fine, and by God you’re fine. Truly, that was spectacular the way you saved yourself. I don’t know how you—”
“I should probably tell you that I was Army intelligence for four years.”
“You were a spy?”
She shook her head, then shrugged. “I have an aptitude for languages, and mainly I was used to interpret codes and messages, mostly Arab. I’m also good with numbers and have broken a few numerical codes too.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle once more. “I can’t wait for the rest of my life to get to know you, Minerva Ferguson. You are the most fascinating person I’ve ever encountered. I’m so honored—” His voice broke before he could tell her how honored he was to have her in his life.
She kissed him. It was sweet and gentle. Yet, there was an urgency mixed with her lips, almost a desperation to keep him near. It was endearing. She pushed against him to sit up, and he let her. Feeling her body’s movement internally made him feel thick and tight all over again. His cock twitched, but she adjusted herself, and he slipped out of her.
“Damn,” he whispered, longing to be back inside her slick sex.
She circled the girth of him wit
h her fingers, making him moan and close his eyes. “We have to go home right away and take care of this.”
He nodded and gently rocked into her hand.
“Can you do that, General? Can you come home with me now?”
He opened his eyes and tried his best to think as she stroked him. “Reports. Need to write reports,” was all he could say, hoping she understood his meaning.
“I can help with that.”
“I’m sure you can, my little temptress.”
She giggled—low and throaty and it made him rock against her more. “No, I mean I can really help. Although, I’m fairly certain you have much better handwriting than I do. Or can it wait until tomorrow? Mayhap the day after that?”
He stopped and stared at her, his heart feeling warm and wide. “You said mayhap, not maybe, as you do.”
She smiled and stroked up his cock, letting her thumb rub around his sensitive head, making him nearly tremble with the pleasure of her touch.
“I figure, if I’m going to stay here, then I’d better speak the language, right?”
Forgetting his cock, his desire, he crushed her in a tight embrace. “You’d do that for me?” he asked into the top of her head. “You’d give up your time for me?”
She pulled away enough, hence releasing his erection, to glance up at him. “I love you,” was the answer she gave.
He’d felt loved before. Julia had loved him deeply. Before her, he’d been loved by the set of maids who had raised him. If it hadn't been for Mrs. Hetty, Mrs. Iverson, and pretty young Miss Greene, and the love of his wife, he’d never have known how to feel so deeply appreciative for what Erva was offering. As much as he had loved the women in his life previously, he realized it was nothing compared to the way he felt about Erva. Granted, he would have knocked down mountains for Julia. But with Erva, she would help him either move a mountain or go through it. This kind of love, a true partner in life, he’d never known, and it made his whole mind and body spin with the possibilities that life could offer.
He tucked himself back into his breeches, trying to button up at the same time he helped her skirts down to her ankles. It was time to be painfully honest with her.
“Erva, darling.” He cleared his throat. “You keep asking me why I’m here.”
She sat up a bit more after smoothing her skirt, staring him in the eye. “Yes.” Taking a quick breath, she said, “I don’t understand why you agreed to come here. Especially now that I know you. I believe the Howe brothers are here because, as much as they disagree with how King George III is dealing with the colonies, they believe in loyalty to the monarch, to the current hierarchy. I don’t think you do.”
He nodded. “You would be correct.”
“There were several officers who wouldn’t come to America to fight.”
“Yes.”
She lifted her hand and placed it over his heart. “So...you knew you didn’t have to come. You could have said no. You also voted against the war in Parliament. I don’t understand. Why did you say yes?”
He rethought about telling her. After all, she might think it too great a responsibility. But he didn’t mean to tell her to obligate her, but to relate how much he loved her. Never great with words, he prayed he’d find the right ones for her.
“I—I gave up hope. After Julia died, I didn’t know what to live for any more. I kept attending Parliament, banquets and parties, trying to live each day attempting to find a purpose. But I—I couldn’t find one.” He swallowed and couldn’t look at her while he admitted the truth. “I know very well how damaging suicide is. Even Paul who had never taken a liking to Julia was beside himself for years over her death. I—I knew I could never do that to him. To anyone.”
She gasped and clutched at his coat. “No.”
He glanced up and nodded. “War profiteering has been known for thousands of years. I’m sure there were men who made large sums of money off the wars Homer wrote of.” He peeked down again at the small amount of space between them. “I—I simply thought that I could die, and it wouldn’t be that remarkable during a war. I’d profit from the war in that way.”
Utterly surprising him, she smacked him hard against his chest with her little balled hands. “No!” Tears pooled in her dark eyes. “No! You can’t—you just can’t—no—” She hit him again, but this time without the ferocity as earlier.
He shook his head. “I no longer think like this.”
She clutched at his coat, breathing fire on him. A lone tear left her eye and surfed down her alabaster cheek.
He wiped it away. “I decided to t-tell you because I wanted you to know that I’m not thinking like that any longer. But more than that, I have hope now. Not just about our future, but the future generally. Since you know the name of what possessed Julia, the schizophrenia, that means there might be a way to help those who have it. I—I could help research in this area. I tried when Julia was alive, but now I know where to start. Thanks to you, I am finally thinking ahead. I’m hoping. Lord, I don’t know if what I’m saying makes sense, for I don’t want you to feel that you have to stay with me in order for me to keep living. I know from what I’ve said, you might think just that. But—but even if you left me, I’d still think of hope. I’d still be hopeful for the future. I wanted you to know how much I love you, how much of an impact you’ve had on my life. How, my darling, you have made me a better man.”
More tears left her tense face. He realized she was holding her breath.
“Don’t...you,” she hiccuped her words, intense agony dripping between each one, “ever...leave...me.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have kept that to myself.”
Even more tears cascaded down her face, but her voice had calmed. “No, I wondered why you were here. Now I know.” She sniffed. “So that means you wouldn’t be heartbroken if the Americans won this war, right?”
“How on earth can they win?”
Erva chuckled. Ah, she laughed, which broke any melancholia left in his heart.
“Oh, they had help,” she said. “Lots of help. But, yeah, they win their independence. The crazy part is, that the British won the war against France and Spain.”
“France will join this war? Good Lord, I’m glad to be retiring.”
“So am I.” She smiled at him.
He needed to make sure of where her heart lay. “My darling, truly, if you left me, I’d be...okay. I don’t want you to feel responsible—”
“Are you trying to get me to leave you?”
He gripped her arms and pulled her close. “Never.”
“Then why are you—”
“Because of what I just confessed to you. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. I want you to...want me.”
She chuckled. “God, now I know we’re meant to be together. You just recited a Cheap Trick’s song two hundred years before it was even sung. Then again, it is an old song. Maybe it was sung around your time.”
He nodded. “I’m not sure what any of that means, but I hope that you don’t feel obligated?”
Again, she softly laughed. “I don’t feel any sense of obligation. But,” she soothed her hands down from his shoulders to his chest and rested them there, “if you ever feel sad, sad enough where you think about...what you thought about, then tell me. We’ll work on it together.”
He lifted both her hands in his and kissed them. “I promise.”