Page 52 of Taken By the Broken Duke
Juliet’s hands clawed at the ground, her body rocking in time with his every thrust. His pace quickened, his hands sliding lower to grip her thighs, pulling her back against him with every movement. The intensity left her gasping, her body trembling as he took her with unrelenting focus. The sensation was overwhelming, the edge of pain only heightening the relentless pleasure that consumed her.
Time ceased to be. Juliet had no concept of its passing. They made love to a crescendo of panting and moaning. Of whispering each other's names and clutching each other's bodies.
Then, they were lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain above them as the fire slowly died down.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The rain eased. It did not stop, however, simply easing in its fury to become a steady misting downpour instead of the all-out assault that it had been earlier. Juliet and Horatio had dressed and gathered the last of the dry wood to feed the fire. Outside, the sky was darkening. Juliet's stomach grumbled, reminding her that she had not eaten since breakfast and engaged in strenuous exercise besides.
“Much as I would like to spend the rest of my life here with you, I think hunger is calling me back to the castle,” Horatio said.
They sat on an ancient, dusty pew that Horatio had dragged to face the fire. Juliet lay with her feet up and her head resting on Horatio's lap. He sat sprawled with the heel of one foot resting on the toes of the other. Juliet felt warm and comfortable, disinclined to move except for the need to eat. Her body felt as though it had molded itself to Horatio and was perfectly content to remain in this position.
“If we are a couple of miles from Ravenscourt, then it would be as well to let the rain abide before we go. It would not do to let your dressing get wet,” Juliet murmured.
Horatio shook his head decisively.
“In these parts, showers like this can last all night. We'll go now before it gets any heavier. I don't think we should wait any longer. We'll take advantage of this warm weather. It may be wet but at least it isn't cold to boot.”
Juliet frowned, perking up at Horatio. She could feel the breeze that gusted in through the empty window casements. It raised goosebumps on her bare arms. Horatio did look slightly flushed. She sat up and pressed a hand against his forehead. He looked at her quizzically but did not protest.
“Youdofeel slightly warm,” Juliet began. “I think you are right. Let’s get back to the castle as quickly as we may. You should be somewhere warm and dry.”
They got up reluctantly and left the ancient church. Juliet looked back at it as they walked away. It was almost subsumed into the woods, ivy climbing its walls to the roof, trees intruding into the previously sacred body. Perhaps one day it would vanish completely, becoming lost to sight amid ivy, grass, and trees. But it would always hold a special place in her heart. It was a magical place. A place of love and passion.
“We will come back,” she whispered, making a promise to the place.
“We will. It will be our secret place,” Horatio said, overhearing her.
Juliet looked at him in surprise, not expecting to be overheard.
“Will it?” she asked, searching for Horatio's reassurance.
“Certainly. If I find the time, I shall paint it for you,” Horatio smiled. “Then we will have the memory of it forever.”
“I do not need a painting to remind me. I will never forget,” Juliet said, fervently.
“Nor I. But we will not talk as though today is already a distant memory. We will not live for tomorrow.”
He led her up a slope, picking his way among tree roots. Every now and then he winced, putting a hand to his side. When they reached the top, Juliet opened his coat to check the dressing. It was crimson-stained, blood seeping through. She had a feeling that the wound should not be so exposed. The blood that was beginning to soak the dressing could carry contaminants back into the wound.
“We should hurry, as much as we can,” Juliet paced, taking his hand.
At first, Horatio led. Then he began to slow. His hand felt increasingly warm in Juliet's. He gave directions, his voice tight with pain. She had not thought the wound in his side to beall that serious but now was concerned that dirt or some other foreign body had gotten into the wound. She had tried to clean it as well as she could but without clean linen, it was impossible to be sure.
Finally, they came within sight of Ravenscourt. The sky behind the castle, in the east, was growing a dark purple, with the glint of stars becoming visible. Lights twinkled in a few windows of the castle.
Frances would be furious to see Juliet again. Was Aunt Margaret aware of her daughter's attempts to bribe Juliet? Probably. Juliet could not imagine Cousin Frances coming up with such a plan without her mother's input and consent.
As they crossed an arched stone bridge to one of Ravenscourt's impressive entrances, Horatio stumbled, falling to one knee. The door opened and Mr. Hall came out at a run. Horatio tried to regain his feet but his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed, body going limp.
“What has happened?” Hall demanded, dark brows drawn down thunderously.
“He tackled a poacher and the man came at him with a knife and cut him across the ribs,” Juliet exclaimed.
Hall dipped his head closer to his master's side and sniffed. Then he lifted the coat and hissed like a scalded cat.
“The rot has set in. We must get him inside and stripped down to combat the fever. I have some maggots that will eat away the corrupted flesh and leave the wound clean.”
