Page 115 of The Boxing Baroness

They were eating their breakfast beside the cookfire, the day shaping up to be just as clear and sunny as the last six.

Sin was strongly tempted to take Marianne’s hand and drag her toward the abandoned barn—where she’d surprised him by constructing a cozy, private love nest in the hayloft a few days earlier.

But that, alas, was not going to happen. He set down the half-empty cup of strong coffee Sonia had brewed and turned to his companions. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Marianne, Cecile, and Guy met his gaze and nodded, unsurprised.

“But your friend?” Sonia said with a frown. “Shouldn’t we wait—”

“He’ll know where we’ve gone if we’re not here,” Sin assured her, his glance going to Farnham. “You and Barnabas could stay here,” he said, not bothering to try this argument on either Marianne, Guy, or Cecile—all of whom had put him in his place once already. “We could come back this way and—”

“We will go with you,” Farnham said, his worried gaze on Marianne. The man looked so downtrodden and remorseful that even Sin was beginning to feel sorry for him, though he knew Farnham still hadn’t confessed the worst of his infractions to the woman he’d wronged.

“Very well,” Sin said. “We’ll leave at first light. I want to cover this leg of the journey as fast as possible. I’d rather be early and wait for Strickland in Metz for a week or ten days than get held up somewhere and worry about being late. So, we’ll be traveling hard.” They nodded and breakfast broke up.

So much for a relaxing day in the hayloft.

* * *

Late that night, after all the washing, cleaning, packing, cooking, and preparing had eaten up the day, Marianne went to their meeting place in the barn.

It was past midnight and the duke had worked hard all day, as had the others, so she didn’t really expect to find him there.

But there he was, waiting for her when she climbed up the wooden ladder to the loft.

He stood and came to meet her. “I was beginning to believe you wouldn’t come,” he said as she walked into his welcoming arms.

“I thought it might be our last chance to be together for a while,” she murmured into his hard chest, inhaling deeply and filling her lungs with his precious scent while he stroked her back. “Cecile told me I was a fool.”

“Do you agree with her?”

“I might be a fool, but I’m right where I want to be.”

He kissed her gently and deeply, the taste of him already so familiar and so dear. When his hands moved to the buttons of her dress, she shook her head.

His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Marianne’s body clenched at the endearment; Lord, how she hungered to take him inside her body.

“It’s—well, my courses started today.” Her face heated furiously at her admission, which was foolish after all they’d done together over the past few days.

He caressed her cheek, his eyes hot and loving. “I hope that doesn’t mean that you are leaving? Because I want to hold you and sleep with you—at least for a few hours.”

“I’m not leaving. There is something I’ve wanted to . . . finish, since that first night together.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

She walked him back toward the rough wall of the barn where she’d made their love nest. Her fingers made quick work of his breeches before she sank to her knees in the blankets, pulling his buckskins down with her.

She stared at his erection and then cut him a look of mock surprise. “Why, where are your drawers, Your Grace?”

He smiled down at her, exposing his elusive dimple. “My washerwoman says I’m wasteful, so I thought I’d do my part to cut down on the laundry.”

“Very noble of you,” she praised. “I think you deserve a reward.” She slid her hand around his thick shaft and stroked him from root to tip.

“You will be the death of me . . .” His hands slid into her hair, fingers lightly caressing her scalp.

She lowered her mouth and kissed the tiny slit in his crown.