Brenda Joyce - The Stolen Bride

Why was he doing this? Reminding himself of the life he had left behind was not going to help him elude the British and flee the country. In a few minutes, he would steal a fresh mount from the stables and return to Cork. He would be there before dawn, and when his ship set sail from Cobh he would be on it.

But he wouldn’t leave just yet.

He was doing this because Elle was getting married, he reminded himself.

Sean pressed his face to the cold glass, watching Tyrell clasp Devlin’s shoulder. The two men were laughing about something as they followed the other men from the room, and it became impossible to deny the yearning to go inside and become a part of that family one more time. He desired it so badly he could taste it, but he made no move to do so. He was wanted for treason and he had no intention of bringing the earl and his brother and stepbrothers down with him.

The women were rising now and preparing to leave. He recognized Virginia, and Tyrell had his arm around a lady with titian hair. The rest of the departing crowd was meaningless to him, except for his mother. She was smiling as she led the ladies from the room. The countess remained as graceful and elegant as ever, but he saw that she seemed older. He didn’t fool himself—his disappearance must have distressed her to no end.

Then Sean realized that one woman had walked away with Rex. His gaze slammed back to her—and his heart stopped.

For one instant, he was paralyzed. She had changed—but he would know her anywhere. And there was so much relief, huge and consuming, that he almost collapsed against the window. Elle .

Nothing was left of the gawky, intrepid child—but then, if he dared to recall his last night at home, the young blossoming woman he had left four years ago had been anything but childlike. He hadn’t forgotten how tall she was, but the planes and angles of her face, like the planes and angles of her body, had finally vanished. She had become lush and voluptuous. The gawky child was now a beautiful woman, capable of stunning a man senseless.

Watching her charm his brother, he felt his world turn upside down.

Sean panicked. What was he doing, anyway? He had expected to return to a slender young woman who had never been kissed, a young woman whom he saw only as a friend and sister. Now she laughed at Rex, her smile dazzling, and he could almost hear her then.

Have I ever told you that you are my favorite brother?

Words Elle had said to every one of his stepbrothers and to Devlin, to everyone but him.

Realization struck him with the force of lightning, causing him to stagger. He was staring at Elle with need and hunger.

It was impossible, he thought, incredulous and aghast. He could not desire the woman he had considered a sister for most of his life. His body was responding as it would to any beautiful female, due to two years of celibacy, his only relief inflicted by his own hand.

She was walking away from Rex and smiling at a blond gentleman, looping her arm in his. He briefly looked at her escort, realizing that he was her intended, Sinclair. The man was handsome and privileged, with the bearing of a born aristocrat. Sean despised him on sight.

Sean realized he was shaking and desperate. He was furious with her, with Sinclair, with himself. Of course Elle had grown up. He had every right to be surprised by the beauty she had become, but he had no right to any other feelings. And where the hell was she going with Sinclair, anyway? He returned to the window and realized that the dining room was empty.

The moment he heard the terrace door open, he also heard her laughter, and while the sound was familiar, it was also strange and new. Her laughter had changed. It had become sultry; it was seductive .

He pressed his back to the wall, waiting for them to come into view, and as he waited, he realized that his loins were stiff and full. But he barely had time to absorb that terrible fact when they appeared, strolling to the balustrade. They were so engrossed in one another that he did not think they would notice him in the shadows against the house. She moved differently now, too. Her stride was long but there was a sensuous quality to the sway of her hips—a quality he instantly hated. She moved like a woman who knew she was being appreciated and admired, pursued and watched.

“Have I told you how lovely you are tonight?” Sinclair asked, taking both of her hands in his.

Sean felt like choking him into silence.

“I don’t think so,” Eleanor said, a smile in her voice. “But if you did, you can always tell me again.”

She was flirting! Since when had Elle learned to flirt?

“You are so beautiful,” Sinclair said thickly, and Sean hated the rough tone of his voice. They should not be out on the terrace alone, at night. Where the hell was everyone, anyway? She had four brothers to chaperone her. Why wasn’t someone doing precisely that?

“And you, sir, are far too gallant and far too charming,” Elle returned softly. “I am so fortunate to be marrying such a man!”

“A man cannot possibly be too charming or too gallant, not where you are concerned,” Sinclair whispered.

Did he know that his lady love was a hellion? Or had Elle given up her wild gallops, her fist fighting, her swear words? Did she still hunt and fish? Or was she now a debutante and a flirt?

“I am pleased that you are so charming,” Elle whispered back. “I find you very charming indeed, even if your eyes are blue.”

Sean had not a clue as to what that meant, and apparently, neither did Sinclair.

There was a strained silence then.

Sean felt like smashing the wall, because he knew that Sinclair was preparing to kiss her.

“May I? May I kiss you, Eleanor?” he asked.

“I thought you would wait forever to ask.” She laughed.

In disbelief, Sean watched Sinclair take her into his arms, slowly lowering his face to Elle’s. The moon chose that moment to come out from behind a single cloud, vividly illuminating the lovers. Sinclair had fused his mouth to hers—and she was kissing him back wildly, clinging to his shoulders.

He leaned against the stone wall, furious and paralyzed, panting hard, but he refused to look away. He could not comprehend the sensual woman in the other man’s arms— Elle, who was kissing him and making small, breathy sounds of pleasure and delight. He pulled at his breeches. She might be a woman now, a very desirable woman, but they had grown up together and he had no right to the lust in his loins.

“I’ve been kissed, Sean!”

He jerked, words she had spoken many years ago suddenly coming to mind. And it was as if she was eleven years old again to his seventeen, and they were standing there in the stables at Adare, amidst the straw and the horses, and she was grinning mischievously at him.

HE HAD SPENT WEEKS pursuing a tenant’ s daughter— a buxom blonde with a pretty smile and two dimples. Suddenly he was in the straw with her, his hands beneath her skirts, and she was weeping in pleasure and he was so close to unbuttoning his breeches and moving inside her. He began to do so, taking her hand and guiding it to where he was stiff and hard. And he heard a giggle.

Instantly, he knew Elle was spying—again. All lust vanished. Furious, he leaped to his feet, pulling his pants together as he did so—only to find her perched on the top edge of the stall, grinning at him. Realizing that she had seen everything, he felt his cheeks burst into flames, and his anger erupted. She knew, because she leaped down from the top of the stall, alarmed.