It Happened One Night

  And he had no cause for shame, either. He was no longer the beautiful young boy she’d known, but a magnificently beautiful man.

  She stroked the hair on his chest. “There was a lot less of this on the boy I knew back in that other hayloft.”

  “And a lot less girth around the waist.”

  “Nonsense. You’re remarkably trim. With girth in all the right places.” Her hand traced the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

  “I could say the same about you, my girl. In fact, you look better than you have any right to.”

  “I wish you’d gone bald and run to fat, Sam. You’d be much easier to resist.”

  “Running up and down riggings keeps one fit.”

  “But I didn’t realize captains did that. I assumed you had young boys to climb up the masts for you.”

  “I did, of course. Some officers give it up. I never did because I enjoyed it. There’s nothing like riding the give and spring of line rigging to make you feel like a boy.”

  “Let me see if I can make you feel like a man.” She led him to the bed, where her own clean linen sheets were turned down. But they did not crawl under the covers. Willie lay on top of them and pulled Sam down to her. He took her in a torrid kiss, while she entwined her legs with his, putting every possible inch of her skin in hungry contact with his.

  They kissed for long moments, and then Sam broke the kiss and looked deep into her eyes.

  “You terrify me, Willie. I want you so badly, but I keep thinking of all those other men—”

  She pushed him away, frowning. Hell and damnation. She had known in her gut that this was wrong. She should have listened to that nagging voice in her head. “Don’t,” she said, moving away from him. “This will never work. It was foolish of us to think it could. You will never be able to forget or forgive who I’ve become.”

  He tugged her back to him. “Silly woman. I’ve told you more than once that I understand about all that. I stopped blaming you years ago.”

  “And yet you can’t stop thinking about all those other men. I’m sorry, Sam. This won’t work. We can’t be together again. It sounded like a terribly romantic idea, but it’s too late for us.”

  “It’s not too late. We have to try, Willie. If we don’t do it now, when at last we’re both alone and unencumbered, we may never get another chance. And it is romantic. Two lovers sharing passion again after all these years.”

  “How can we, when you can’t stop thinking about all those other men? And how they made my life a disgrace in your eyes?”

  “It’s not the other men in your life I’m worried about, my dear girl. It’s the life in this man. I fear I may not measure up to your worldly expectations.”

  Her anger and disappointment evaporated in an instant. “Ah, Sam. You could never disappoint me.”

  And he didn’t.

  He loved her with hands and mouth and tongue as skillful as the most practiced London rake, without the edge of cynical hedonism. He gave pleasure and took it, in an honest expression of passion and desire. This was not the remembered innocence of their first youthful coupling—uncertain and bumbling—but the knowledgeable and unashamed sensuality of experienced maturity.

  Sam’s lips trailed down her neck and along her shoulder, and lower still to the curve of her breast until, finally, he took her nipple into his mouth and curled his tongue around it. Her low moan of pleasure echoed through the room. Sam’s mouth became hot and greedy in response. His hands skimmed over her bare flesh, creating little sparks of erotic fire everywhere he touched. Wilhelmina kneaded his back and shoulders with restless desire, and in turn explored him more intimately with lips and teeth and tongue.

  When at long last he drove himself into her in a single deep thrust, she welcomed him with inner muscles that closed tight around him.

  There was no awkwardness between them, even after all these years. There was only ease and rightness as their bodies joined. Wilhelmina could not be certain what his thoughts were, whether or not he was still thinking of all those other men, but her thoughts were on Sam alone, and no one else. A potent warmth rushed through her, welled up, and filled her. She almost became lost in the drugging sensuality of his powerful thrusts, the way he lifted her hips for deeper access, but she never forgot that it was Sam who was inside her, Sam who was loving her.

  He prolonged the loving, keeping himself in check, sometimes stilling inside her with a visible effort not to climax before she did. When her body finally stiffened, then convulsed into a succulent crescendo of passion, he followed close behind with his own release. Burying his face in her shoulder and his hands in her hair, he pumped faster and faster, calling out her name, until he collapsed on top of her.

  Panting and wet, they melted into each other in sheer satiated bliss. After several long moments, Sam rolled off her and gathered her against him. He kissed her so tenderly, it made her want to weep. Within a moment, he fell into a deep sleep, but not before whispering in her ear: “I love you, Willie. I’ve always loved you.”

  The cock’s crow woke him. Or maybe it was the barking dogs or the church bell. Sam soon became aware of a morning’s chorus of activity. The clank and clatter of harnesses being set to teams. The crunch of wheels on gravel. The whinny of horses anxious to be moving. The creak of windows being thrown open and people shouting to others below.

  Sam was exhausted, but sublimely happy. Willie was snuggled beside him, still sound asleep. There had been little sleep for either of them last night. They had made love three times during the night, something he’d not done since he was a very young man. In truth, he felt like a boy this morning, ready to take on the world. With Willie at his side.

  Sam thought of kissing her awake and making love to her in the golden light of morning, but it seemed greedy and selfish. They would have a lifetime of mornings. Instead, he would let her sleep a while longer.

  He slid carefully out of bed—dear God, he could easily get used to those crisp linen sheets—and found a pitcher of water on a washstand. It was freezing, but he splashed his face and washed up a bit before unearthing his clothes from the heap on the floor. He was almost dressed when he heard Willie stir. He sat beside her on the bed and kissed her.

  “Good morning, Willie girl.”

  “Sam.” She sat up and smiled, but her eyes seemed wistful and almost sad. “Thank you for waiting to say good-bye.”

  A tiny knot twisted in his gut. Good-bye?

  “Last night was wonderful. Glorious. It has been such a pleasure to see you again, Sam, and to talk out all that was between us. And to make love with you. What a night you have given me! I will never forget it.”

  Her smile became a bit unsteady and her eyes looked over-bright. But her voice was even, and her intent clear.

  “Thank you, Sam. And God’s speed to you.”

  Did she really think he was going to leave her after finally finding her again? After loving her again? “I’m not going anywhere, Willie.”

  “Yes, you are. You must go to Clophill and the Fullbrooks.”

  He took one of her hands and caressed it. “Do you think I can walk away from you after last night?”

  “Yes. You must.”

  “No, I must not.” Sam could not understand why she was saying such things. After she’d slept naked in his arms. “God, Willie, I want to marry you. I want to spend my life with you. I was your first love, my girl, and I want to be your last love.”

  She sat up straighter, wrapping the coverlet around her breasts. “What we had together back in Porthruan, the love we shared, was a very special thing, Sam. But what I did—”

  “Willie, stop! I don’t blame you for—”

  “—what I did with my life changed everything, irreparably. I am not the girl you once loved and never can be. We cannot go back, either of us. It is impossible.”

  “Then let us go forward.”

  “We can’t. There’s too much behind us.”

  He took both her hands in his, willing her to
trust him. “Willie, sweetheart, this could be a second chance for us. We don’t often get second chances in life.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam, I can’t. It won’t work. There are no second chances. I’m sorry.”

  The stubborn woman! Why was she being so difficult? He made an effort to keep anger and frustration out of his voice. “Why? Why won’t it work? It may have been impossible once, when there was too much guilt and pain, on both sides. But that’s long past. There is nothing now to keep us apart.”

  She shook her head and met his gaze squarely, though a glimmer of what looked like sadness shone in her eyes. “The past will always keep us apart. Despite last night, I will always be damaged goods to you, irreparably soiled, and I could not live with the disdain your eyes. It might not be there at first perhaps, but it would come eventually, and I could not bear it. No, Sam, you are better off following your original course, to marry Miss Fullbrook. She will give you no cause for regrets.”

  He dropped her hands and rose from the bed. Could she really be sending him away? He could not believe it. “You disappoint me, Willie. I thought you were beyond regrets. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? You say you are afraid I cannot forgive you, and yet I did so years ago. No, the real problem is that you cannot forgive yourself. For not knowing I lived. For not waiting for me. For breaking my heart. I think it is the disdain in your own eyes that troubles you, Willie, not mine.”

  She threw back the covers and swung out of bed, gloriously naked. Good Lord, she was beautiful. And not just for a woman who’d passed forty, but for a woman of any age. How was he supposed to walk away from her, out of her life? There was a stubborn tilt to her chin as she donned a wrapper and tied it about her waist.

  “No, you’re wrong, Sam. You believe yourself to be above it all now, with your mature tolerance and liberal-mindedness. But how will you tolerate wondering if every man you meet in London has shared my bed in the past? How long before you are asking for names? And once you’ve heard them all, how long will you continue to be able to touch me without disgust?”

  “Oh, Willie, my love, I—”

  “Stop.” She raised her hand, palm out. “I never cared what other men thought of me. They knew who and what I was, so it didn’t matter. Even with Hertford, because I was his whore before I was his wife. But you’re the only man who knew me before I entered the demimonde. Who knew my innocence. My pure heart. I will always care what you think of me, Sam. How you judge me. Which is why I cannot be with you. I can never be good enough because I cannot erase the past.”

  “Willie.” She was breaking his heart.

  She smiled, this time with more conviction. “But I am so very pleased that we had last night. It is a memory I will cherish forever. You will always be my first love, Sam. Even if we never see each other again, I will never forget you. Or last night. You were quite splendid.”

  “And so you are sending me away?” His voice choked with emotion.

  She stood before him, reached up, and placed a hand on his unshaven cheek. “You were on your way to another woman. Go to her. And be happy.”

  Dear God, she was serious. Where had he gone wrong? Why was he unable to convince her that the past did not matter to him anymore?

  Bewildered and bereft, confused and confounded, he kissed her and took his leave.

  And what the devil was he supposed to do with his life now?

  Wilhelmina collapsed against the door when he’d gone. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done. He was the biggest temptation she’d ever faced, but she’d forced herself to be strong and do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt.

  And dear God, how it hurt. She’d never loved anyone the way she’d loved Sam. She had loved him, or the memory of him, for years, and now she had come to love the fine man he’d become. What a difference one night could make. But everything she’d said to him was true. She would rather live with the memory of their one lovely night than face a lifetime of his scorn. When she had entered into the life of the demimonde all those years ago, she’d known there was no looking back. Even marrying the duke did not wash away the stain of her past. To some people, she would always be a whore.

  If she went with Sam, people would think of her as his whore, and she could not do that to him. She was accustomed to the label, but it would be a constant source of pain for Sam. He was better off without her.

  But she’d had one night with him. One magical night. It would have to be enough.

  She took her time getting ready to depart, lethargy and sorrow slowing every movement. She was strangely reluctant to leave this quaint old inn where she had reconnected with the one great love of her life. Ginny and Marsh were patient with her, though she sensed their frustration. Perhaps they were wiser than she. Perhaps it was best to get back to her life in London as fast as possible and forget about Captain Sam Pellow.

  Smeaton managed the other servants and the luggage while Wilhelmina sat quietly in the carriage, nursing her heartache. At Wilhelmina’s request, they left her to ride alone. Ginny sat up with the driver, and Marsh rode in the other carriage with Smeaton. Wilhelmina wanted to sort out her thoughts in solitude during the drive to London.

  It was late in the morning when the carriages finally pulled out of the Blue Boar’s yard and took to the road. Wilhelmina did not look back at the old inn. She kept her gaze forward, on the road to London.

  Less than a half mile down the road, the carriage lurched and came to a noisy and jarring halt. She felt Trevitt jump down from the driver’s bench. Wilhelmina rolled down the window and saw him and George, the footman, examining one of the horses.

  “What has happened?” she asked, leaning her head out the window.

  “One of the team has thrown a shoe, Your Grace,” Trevitt said in an exasperated tone. “Fortunately we have not gone far. I’ll walk him back to Upper Hampden and have him reshod.”

  He muttered under his breath as he began to remove the harness from the shoeless horse. Wilhelmina watched the operation with resigned indifference. Despite the sunny skies, it was already a miserable day, and one thrown shoe could hardly make it worse. She had settled back into the velvet squabs when she heard the approach of another vehicle.

  A curricle slowed and pulled up right beside her. Sam held the reins and flashed a smile at her through the window.

  Wilhelmina tamped down the jolt of pleasure at the sight of him, but was unable to stop herself from opening the carriage door and stepping out to see him. “What are you doing here?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Just passing through. What’s the problem?”

  “I believe one of the horses has thrown a shoe.”

  “Indeed.” He looked at the horse being removed from the harness. “Sorry, old chap.”

  Wilhelmina glared at him, round-eyed. “You? You did this?”

  He winked at her. “You are not the only one with a few tricks up a sleeve.” He reached out a hand to her. “Come, Willie. I’ll take you the rest of the way. Your entourage can follow later.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Willie.” He was not going to let her talk him out of it this time. He’d made his excuses to the Fullbrooks, and so there was nothing to stand in his way, save Willie’s own mule-headedness. And by God, she was no match for a man who never let ferocious winds or treacherous seas or enemy broadsides keep him down.

  “Let me take you up in my carriage, Willie. It’s not as grand as yours, but it has a certain dash that should suit you.”

  “But I’m going to London.”

  “I know.”

  “You would be going in the wrong direction.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, for once I will be going in the right direction. To you. With you.”

  “Sam—”

  “You almost convinced me to go, Willie, but none of your idiotic, mulish arguments will hold water. And by God, you won’t get rid of me that easily. Don’t condemn us with another mistake, my girl. The first time, you though
t I was dead. This time, you think I can’t love you because I can’t forgive you. But you would be wrong to believe that. I fell in love with you when I was seventeen, and despite all the years and all that’s happened, I’ve always loved you and always will. If you can’t believe that, you’ll be making another life-changing mistake, like I almost did with Miss Fullbrook. Bilged by your own anchor. Don’t do it, Willie. Don’t walk away from me…from us. Come with me to London. Marry me.”

  “But—”

  “Life is too short, Willie,” he said, determined not to allow her a word of disagreement, “and we’re not getting any younger. Let’s make the best of the years we have left to us, which, God willing, are many. No more excuses. No more regrets. We shall have a lifetime of love and happiness instead. And I won’t be convinced by any more of your flimsy arguments this time, or let you sacrifice yourself to them, either. Come, let’s see what sort of life we can make together.”

  “And what about all those scandalous years behind me?”

  He grinned, thinking the question was little more than one last salvo, and a weak one at that, before surrender. “Frankly, my girl, I’d rather concentrate on the scandalous years ahead. When all of society is reeling in shock and outrage that a duchess would give up her title for a lowly sea captain on half pay.”

  Wilhelmina smiled. “You are making quite a leap, Captain, from a roll in the hay to a lifetime commitment.”

  “Take my hand, Willie, and we’ll make that leap together.”

  She studied him for a long moment, a moment during which Sam ceased to breathe. Then she reached up to take his hand, and his world changed again, forever.

  When she was settled beside him, he kissed her softly on the mouth. “No looking back, Willie.”

  “No looking back.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know.”

  “Say it again.”

  “No looking back.”