The woman drove one hell of a bargain, Caddoc Maddox, Marquis Weir and Earl of Llyan, mused, looking down at the parchment awaiting his signature. Not that he blamed her. It took a great deal of courage to risk herself as she was for the sake of her younger siblings. Even though she didn't believe in the dragon, she had to be afraid she would never return.
"Your sister will accept them?" Miss Burns looked up at him with wide eyes the shade of new-mown grass. One toe tapped nervously on the carpet of the vicarage parlour. She had sent her sisters to clean the church after the town meeting, and her little brother was being entertained outside by Caddoc's coachman. They were bright, well-mannered children, and Caddoc could more than understand her concern. He scrawled his signature and handed the document to the mayor to witness.
"Morwenna adores children, and company of all ages. She will view sponsoring your sisters as practice forays - her own daughter is only six. And I will see to young Master Richard's education personally."
"Thank you." Her voice was soft as she looked down at her hands.
They were reddened and strong from hard work, and Caddoc couldn't understand why he found them so much more attractive than the smooth, lily-white extremities of the women of the ton. But everything about Georgiana Burns pleased him. From her flame-red curls to the sprinkle of freckles on her upturned nose, to her plump, feminine curves, she was a bundle of sensual surprises.
He crossed his legs to hide the uncomfortable tightness in his trousers. Just looking at Georgiana in her prim little muslin gown and lace fichu made him hard as a flagpole. Imagining the lush white breasts hidden under the lace made his cock throb painfully. And he'd agreed to take her under his protection? He'd clearly taken leave of his senses, assuming he'd had any to begin with.
"I'd like you to take the children this afternoon," she told him, breaking the awkward silence. "We'll come up with something to tell them. Perhaps that you knew our father and are taking them to your sister at his request. But I don't want them to hear of this farce that is about to happen. Tell them I am to follow in a few days, after some piece of business has been handled. If I do not...come back from the hillside...you can simply invent an accident."
"Is this another condition?" he asked, perhaps just to see the slight flush of irritation colour her complexion which had gone chalk-white. "Should it be added to the agreement?"
Georgiana shook her head. "Simply a request, my lord. A favour, if you will."
"Of course. I have an aunt in residence at Llyan Castle who can act as temporary chaperone," he announced. "'Tis only a few hours' ride from here. The children can go that far tonight and wait there until you join them." He had a small country house closer to the village, but the most ancient seat of the earldom, far older than the superior title of Marquis of Weir, was farther up into the Welsh mountains.
"That will do nicely, my lord. I thank you." Her shoulders softened slightly in relief, and she turned those vivid green eyes on the mayor. "And now, my lord mayor, perhaps you can enlighten me as to the proceedings for this...arrangement? One wishes to know what to expect."
"Of course," the older man huffed. "At sunset on Midsummer, the sacri - uummm - chosen one is taken up to the standing stone on the cliffs above the bay. Usually she is allowed a blanket to sit upon, a torch or two, and perhaps a small wineskin to ease her nerves while she awaits her fate."
Caddoc would bet anything that the wine was usually drugged. He saw something that looked like realization flash through Georgiana's eyes as well. Clever girl.
"Very well." Georgie - he'd heard her sister call her that and it suited - smiled bravely. "Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to see about packing. My lord, if you could arrange to have your carriage come for the children around tea-time?"
Georgie couldn't decide if she wanted to kiss Lord Weir or strangle him. She closed her eyes as she imagined what his kiss would feel like. Would his mouth be sweet or spicy? Would his lips be firm or soft, gentle or ravishing? She'd never truly experienced a man's kiss, but she knew that his would be wonderful.
She slumped into the chair in her tiny bedroom and inhaled a deep breath. Her heart was racing and there was a strange, nagging ache low in her belly. She knew her nipples were peaked beneath her stays and that, if she touched herself beneath her skirts, she would be wet. She was such a wanton. As a vicar's daughter she had always tried to be good, but she had touched herself in the darkness of her room at night. She knew that she could pleasure herself with her fingers. But even so, the heaviness in her breasts and womb had never been this strong before. And it had all started with one look into the earl of Weir's silver-grey eyes.
She didn't even know his full name. But her body wanted him in the most sinful of ways. Maybe it was a good thing she was being fed to a dragon - or at least left alone overnight on a rocky escarpment. God was punishing her for her venial nature.
"You need to take the sword with you."
Georgie leapt out of her chair at the sound of her brother's voice. "Richard!"
"You need to take the sword," he repeated. His eyes were wide, his chin set in a determined pose she recognized as a legacy from their father. "It's from St. George himself. It's enchanted to kill dragons."
"What on earth are you talking about?" She tried to laugh. "You should be packing, my boy, not skulking about."
He shook his dark auburn head. "I heard you. I know what you're doing. You need to take the dragon sword."