Before she could tell him the rest of the things in her mind, Tristan stepped away and back. She thought he was about to move to their carriage, but he dropped to his knees.
Cathy’s hands flew to her mouth to mute the gasp. It was simply surreal to see a man like him kneeling in the dirt for her.
“W-hat are you doing?” Cathy asked. “Please do not do that. Lord Brandon’s servants will see. Some of them are at the window!”
Normally, she would not notice such details, but a quick glance would prove her right. The Farstone staff were not even trying to hide that they were watching, possibly expecting a fight after what happened with Anne and Brandon.
“Let them see,” Tristan said. “I am about to do what Ihad not been given the opportunity to do.” Then, he reached out to hold her by the skirts, his fingers grasping the fabric as if she was about to flee once more. At that moment, he did not look like a duke. He was a husband looking up at his wife; a man looking at his last hope. “Remember I told you that I wanted you to beg for me to take you to bed rather than be a duchess who wants to secure your future?”
Cathy nodded. She remembered the anger she felt when he told her that. It was like a rejection and an insult, then, but now, she understood. Would she want a man who would only bed her because of a duty?
No. Of course, not.
“Well, now I am on my knees begging you for a chance to touch you, Cathy. This time, I will not turn you away. I was a fool, too, for telling a beautiful woman with a heart like yours away. At that time, I was afraid that you only wanted me for my wealth and title.”
It was a fair assessment. Cathy’s throat felt tight. This arrangement had brought her insecurities to the surface. And his, too.
“Tristan, I...” she faltered, worried that she would burst into tears right then and there.
He laughed, but it was self-deprecating, bordering on a sob.
“You seem to be headed to the carriage with me, Cathy, but when I tell you that I am begging you to come back to me, it is more than just a return. I want you to be with me in truth. Not as a business partner or a wife bound in an arranged marriage. Please come back to me as my compass. I do not know how tobreathe without you. I have forgotten. I have become a man who loves you more than dignity itself.”
She held him by the shoulders as his powerful body trembled beneath her touch. She felt the same loneliness she harbored within this man. Both of them had been too stubborn to reveal any of their emotions. But finally, it appeared that both of them were prepared.
“I love you, Cathy. I love you more than anything else that I have ever claimed in my life. Please stay with me. Come home with me. I beg you.”
The rest of the world fell to the distant background. Lord Brandon’s staff. The gravel path. The waiting carriage. They were like dust motes in the sun or dust underneath their feet.
“Get up, Tristan,” she whispered, her voice thickened by tears but with laughter threatening to burst through it. He rose, his smile hopeful as he looked at her during the whole time he moved to meet her chest to chest. This time, it was she who framed his face with her hands. “I love you, too. But I let fear take over and cloud my judgment. My pride and the memories of my father’s betrayals, too many to mention, had me trapped in front of my ledgers, staining my fingers with ink. Now, I am ready for all the mess if it is with you.”
Cathy did not plan to wait any longer. With her hand on the back of his head, she pulled him to her so that their lips met.
“I cannot wait to show you just how much I love you, too,” she murmured. Her voice had dropped into a low register that she could not believe was coming from her lips. His eyes dilated in response. “I cannot wait for us to be back in Baxter Hall...”
“Back home,” he corrected gruffly.
“Home,” she said, savoring the word. “I intend to erase every other woman you have ever kissed. I want you to remember only me.”
Tristan seemed to agree because he did not wait for more from her. He swept her into his arms. She was startled. Then, she giggled. The giggle became a laugh of delight as he half-ran to the carriage with her still in his arms. He deposited her inside and urged the coachman to drive away. She could feel the hungry urgency humming from him.
In the carriage, they did not waste any time. They kissed more deeply, keeping their moans to a minimum, lest they scandalize the coachman. Tristan’s hands were all over Cathy: her face, her neck, and her breasts. They moved with fevered and possessive passion.
By the time the carriage stopped at Baxter Hall’s front steps, husband and wife were disheveled. They tried to catch their breath before descending the carriage, but there was nothing to be done about their appearance. The footmen remained as stoic and expressionless as possible, but Cathy caught their wide eyes before they were able to revert to their polite indifference.
Tristan did not care one bit. He practically dragged her up the grand staircase, with the two moving not like a noble couple but like a couple of unruly children.
Once in his bedchamber, he kicked the door shut. Cathy burst out laughing again, thinking about how loud it was and how the staff must have been shaken by such a display.
It was afternoon, and they had not eaten their midday meal. But they were hungry for something else. Tristan was already unbuttoning his waistcoat as fast as he could. There were nomore courtly gestures here. Every move was urgent. His eyes raked her body as if she were already naked. Then, he reached for her and began to unfasten her dress, as well.
“No ledgers tonight. No calculations,” he commanded, primal need thickening his voice. The order did not stop him from pulling the silk and lace off her body.
“No more,” she echoed, as she helped him take the rest of her dress off until she was left in her chemise.
Cathy trembled. It could have been the autumn breeze or the fact that she was stripping him of his clothes this time.
He stripped the rest of his clothes, and again she was left in awe. Cathy had always been aware of how muscular and toned Tristan was. He liked working with his hands. He did not like the idea of leaving all the work to his servants. But this time, she also had a much clearer glimpse of his erect cock. It stood proud and hard. All this began that morning she woke up with her hand around his cock. Therefore, she knew how big he was. But now, her eyes could confirm it. Her mouth opened, and she hoped it was not watering.