I Know You

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  I KNOW YOU

  Copyright © 2020 by Christina McGaughey

  Cover Image Copyright © SelfPubBookCovers.com/viergacht

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7923-3565-5

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used of reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  If you obtained this copy illegally, please respect the author and her time enough to purchase a legitimate copy.

  First American Edition: 2020

  To Linda

  You taught me that writing sex can be a freeing and exciting experience. As long as it is treated with respect there is so much that Erotic Romance can teach us.

  The Yorkshire sky was the bluest it had been in a long time. There was a breeze over the fields and you could smell the honeysuckle for miles around. These were the makings of a perfectly memorable summer day.

  Except Anne didn’t want the day to be memorable. She wanted to be able to forget this day the moment it was over and never look back on it. This was the day she was going to lose her best friend. The love of her life if she were completely honest, though she doubted anyone would consider sixteen years as a life yet lived.

  Geoffrey was leaving.

  She had known Geoffrey since she was still in leading strings and her father had begun his business partnership with the Earl of Cressledown. Unlike most starchy gentlemen of the time, Papa had always held to the belief that children learn best from seeing the interactions of the adults in their lives. As such he would take her along with him to Cressledown March when he would meet with the Earl.

  There were four children in the nursery of The March. Reginald, Viscount Burns, was the oldest, and heir to the Earldom. Secily was a year younger than Reggie and born of the same mother, the Earl’s first wife. Gloria was the daughter of the Earl’s second wife and was still a baby when Anne had first come to The March.

  Then there was Geoffrey. He was the Earl’s second son, yet everyone out of the Earl’s hearing referred to him as his “ward”, as questions of his legitimacy were never answered by the Earl or anyone around him. His mother had been the Earl’s Scottish mistress after the death of his first wife. She had died giving birth to Geoffrey while the Earl had been away tending to his other estates. Geoffrey’s grandmother had wanted to keep Geoffrey and raise him with his family in Scotland, but the Earl had refused, insisting that Geoffrey be raised alongside his brother and sister in Yorkshire.

  So a deal had been worked out that Geoffrey would spend his winters with his family in Scotland and the remainder of the year on his father’s estate, learning to live the life of a gentleman, bastard or no. Secily had been five when Geoffrey had come to them and had doted on her baby brother, but Reggie remained distant and unsure about the interloper amongst them.

  When the Earl had remarried, the new Countess never treated Geoffrey any differently than the other children and welcomed the loving affection he treated baby Gloria with when she had come along. For the most part, Anne had to admit that Geoffrey had led a pretty idyllic childhood.

  Anne had no memory of the first time she’d met the Rockford children as she had been three at the time. At six Geoffrey was three years her senior, but he never let that bother him. According to her nurse, Geoffrey would sit with her for hours playing with blocks or telling stories. As they got older their friendship turned to the outdoors where they would climb trees, swim in the pond, fish, or collect bunches of honey suckle.

  Even when it came time for Geoffrey to be sent away to school, he would still return to her every summer holiday ready for their next adventure. Eager to spend time with her.

  Slowly, though, things began to change. They spent less time running around and more time sitting and talking. Or sometimes not even talking. It was like each other’s presence was enough to fill the time that they had. Eventually their hands would rest closer and closer together and the rest of their bodies would follow suit.

  Inevitably, one afternoon found them kissing. It had been a natural progression of their friendship, having only ever had each other to think on for certain bonds. While she had been shocked at the time, she quickly grew to enjoy their explorations.

  But now they were coming to an end. She had gotten word that Geoffrey was being sent away from the March for good. His father had died just a month in to his first term at Cambridge. And while Reggie had wanted to end Geoffrey’s education right then, the Countess had put her foot down and demanded that Geoffrey be allowed to finish his schooling as their father had wished.

  When he had arrived at the March for the holidays he had been met with the news that he was to make his goodbyes and return to Cambridge within the sennight. Reggie had secured him lodgings for his remaining time, but he was never to set foot upon Cressledown lands ever again.

  The thought of spending the rest of her life without seeing him again was enough to have Anne sending a footman to the March with a note for Geoffrey to meet her near their tree that afternoon. She hadn’t even waited for a return reply before running off to the spot herself. If she had to wait there into the night she would, especially if it meant seeing him one last time.

  She wasn’t going to cry, though. It had been expressly promised in her note to him that she would not become some weepy Miss who couldn’t control her water-works. His imagined response to that promise almost made her laugh.

  “Where is your maid?”

  That wasn’t what she imagined.

  She gasped and swung around, realizing that she hadn’t heard him come up behind her. What a ninny she was not being more observant of her surroundings. He had taught her better than that.

  “I asked her to keep Papa distracted while I said my…” She couldn’t say it, though. The words just hurt too much. Tucking her arms around her waist as Geoffrey drew closer, she realized that she was failing miserably at keeping her promise.

  He reached out his hand and caressed her cheek, inching it up so he could look into her eyes. “Hey now. This is how you would have me remember you? An oath breaker?” The smile on his face belied the censure of his words.

  It had always been a jest between the two of them, promising big things and teasing the other when reality fell short of aspirations. There is no point in living a life if you cannot live it with the hope of catching a star.

  “I would have you stay and make more memories with me.” This was, in fact, her second choice of plea. She didn’t have the courage to make the first. I would have you take me with you.

  His smile was sad, like she knew it would be, but he hadn’t reached his nineteenth year of life unaware of how cruel the world was to bastards and women. Together, and without the support of their families, the world would be doubly cruel to them.

  “You know that is no longer possible.”

  “Why must Reggie be so…”

  Geoffrey stopped her words with a raised eyebrow. “His Lordship has given me the opportunity to finish my education and plan for a future. There are not many like me who have been given such chances. I dare not squander his magnanimity with my pride.”

  “You know as well as I do that it is Her Ladyship who is to thank for your education. Reggie was always jealous…”

  This time her words were cut off by his lips descending upon hers. Not surprisingly everything she’d been about to say about Geoffrey’s stuffy half-brother went out of her head in an instant.

  After the jolting
commencement, the kiss turned soft and seeking. Geoffrey truly did know how to bring out the sweetness in every moment they spent together. His lips moved just barely, nipping and massaging hers with just the right amount of pressure to ensure that she wanted more. But if she moved closer to him, in search of a deeper caress, he would retreat just enough to make her whimper with want.

  Once her head was fuzzy enough to be pliant, he pulled his head back and looked at her adoringly. “Do you not wish to know what I would have?”

  She couldn’t respond for the life of her, so she just stood there, blinking.

  “I would have you, my sweet Anne. I would have a memory that I can take with me. A memory that I may hold onto during the loneliness of the future. A memory that would give me a hope of one day holding you again.” He dropped another kiss on her forehead. “Would you grant me that memory, Anne?”

  Again, her head buzzed too much to respond. He was asking for her virtue?

  As if he could read her thoughts he shook his head. “No. I will not sully you. You will go to your marriage bed still an innocent. Though, I pray in my heart that marriage bed may also be mine, I can make you no such promises. All I ask of you, my love, is that you allow me to give you pleasure.”

  Her head swam with the sweet words, which seemed to roll off his tongue so easily. Yet, still in her heart, she trusted him. There had been but two men in her life to look out for her interests: her father and Geoffrey. And like her father, Geoffrey would cut off his arm before he harmed her in any way.

  Still, she couldn’t speak the words of consent. Her throat was far too sore with the knot of sorrow, knowing that after this encounter, she would likely never see him again. Instead all she could do was nod, close her eyes, and pray that she didn’t turn into a veritable watering pot, thus ruining this memory for the both of them.

  Geoffrey returned his mouth to hers, but this time the kiss was gentle. He was no longer trying to distract or redirect. Instead he was simply giving life and love the only way he could. Promises were for the future, and she knew he couldn’t give her any. His position in life was too precarious as it was to risk it on the chance that they could one day inherit a fortune from her father.

  Anne cherished the feel of his lips on hers. The few times they had explored each other in the past a keen interest had developed within her for the feel of his lips. They were soft at the same time as being hard. Hot while making her skin feel cool. Salty and oddly sweet.

  Her mind went off on a tangent, trying to memorize the taste of his kiss. She would need this memory to last her forever. Immediately the familiar peppermint jumped to the forefront, but it was also joined by anise and faintly bitter taste. Had he been drinking coffee?

  “Eek!” She squeaked as his hand found her breast and gently cupped it. In the past Geoffrey had never let his hands venture beyond her waist or face. He raised his head enough to catch her eyes and his expression was perfectly readable. He was asking her permission to go further.

  She nodded because what else could she do?

  Again her mouth was captured in an urgent, but still gentle kiss. His hands danced up and down her ribs, making her skin tingle, even through her stays. These were the caresses her parents must share behind the closed door of their rooms. She was remarkably innocent in her experience despite Geoffrey showing her pictures from the book he’d found in his father’s library. Kama…something. She couldn’t remember the last part of the name, nor could she read the words, which had been in a language Geoffrey had called Sanskrit.

  And then it hit her.

  “Geoffrey!” she exclaimed against his still mobile mouth. Pushing against him slightly she repeated her cry of alarm. “Geoffrey!”

  Dazed, Geoffrey pulled back and looked at her with concern. “Did I…”

  “No!” She rushed to reassure him. “It’s just...” She blushed, suddenly realizing that she didn’t know how to ask the next question. “The book.”

  His eyebrows rose. “The book?”

  Anne felt her face getting hotter. “Hamish Geoffrey Rockford! You know full well which book I’m talking about!” She swatted him on the shoulder.

  His smile melted her insides, and made her feel a million feelings all at once. “Aye,” he intoned in his scarcely used Scottish brogue. “I ken which book ye mean. Are ye wantin’ to try summat from it?”

  And there it was. The question was on her now. She didn’t know what to try, but she knew that she wanted to feel whatever he could make her feel before he left her forever. Slowly she nodded her head and raised her eyes to his.

  His eyes were no longer playful. They were serious and caring. Promising that no matter what, he would make sure that she felt nothing but joy and pleasure in his arms. He bent down and scooped her up in his arms at the same time as his lips joined hers in the most forceful and passionate kiss she’d ever experienced. She wasn’t sure where they were going, but she knew that she wasn’t about to complain.

  Surprisingly, though, he didn’t take a single step. Instead, he knelt to the ground and laid her gently on the blanket that she had spread out earlier in hopes that they could picnic together one last time. He let her go for just long enough to shrug out of his coat, roll it up, and place it behind her. He then gently lay her down and resumed the passionate kissing, moving his lips along her jaw, down her neck and to her collar bone.

  “Oh, God! Geoffrey!” The kiss was causing her stomach to flip in ways she’d never considered before. And that was before she felt his hand inching up her calf. “Geoffrey!”

  She felt him smiling against her neck right before she realized that she didn’t know where his other hand was. Did she really want to know?

  “Oh my GOD!” She felt the draft before she felt his hand, brushing languidly against her inner thigh. “What are you…?”

  “You wanted this, my sweet Anne.” He rose over her, smiling wickedly, before sinking to below her waist. His kiss landed near her left knee, but his hands continued their path upward, moving aside her undergarments, and exploring the thatch of curls that lay nestled between her legs. An area that she herself rarely touched.

  She worked hard to control her breathing, but to no avail as his fingers soon found their way to the hot – and very wet – center of her being. “Oooh!”

  “That’s right,” he breathed. His mouth had moved up to just below where his fingers now played lazy circles around her nub. “You are so wet.”

  “I am?” She felt mortified that he noticed.

  His response was delivered with a chuckle. “That is good, Anne. The wetter you are, the more I know that you like it.”

  “I...do…like…it.” She could barely breathe now. Her body was starting to feel like it was on fire, and even though his fingers hadn’t yet entered her, she could feel a tightening somewhere deep inside her, just beyond where he caressed her.

  “I’m glad.” His breath told her that his mouth was right on top of her center now.

  “Geoffrey?”

  Without a word he removed his fingers and kissed the nub he’d just abandoned. She bit the back of her hand to keep herself from shrieking. He sucked and licked and bit at the entrance to her center, making her moan and pant. Her head began to feel fuzzy, and her feet started to feel like ice was entering her blood.

  Just when she thought she’d had all she could take his finger rejoined his mouth and entered her channel smoothly as if it had found its natural sheath. Her heart stopped and restarted a thousand times in that one second. And then her world shattered.

  Her channel began to convulse all on its own as the heat from her core met the ice from her legs. Her ears rang, blocking out all sound and her breath froze in her lungs. How could something cause pain and pleasure at the same time?

  This was how she was going to remember him. This was going to have to be enough.

  Three years later…

  “But the Season just started?”

  Anne sat at the dining table in utter shock, tryin
g her hardest not to sound indignant and knowing she was failing all the same. She couldn’t believe the words coming from her father’s mouth. In the years prior to her mother’s death, the two of them had been inseparable. Never really disagreeing about anything. The last thing she ever wanted to do was disappoint the man who’d provided her with so much. Yet after her mother had succumbed to a spring chill two years ago, she couldn’t quite stop disagreeing with him.

  “I assure you,” her father explained, “that I am well aware of the timing. However, His Grace and I felt that no amount of time in town would change the circumstances of this arrangement.”

  This arrangement. Her sudden betrothal to a man she’d never met. Orchestrated by her father and yet another gentleman she’d never met.

  “Father,” she pleaded. “Why could I not at least meet Lord Ridgely before the agreements are made? Would it really be so horrible to grant me the right to approve the man I will be spending the rest of my life with?”

  It was a tired line of argument, but one that she would never cease using. Once upon a time, her father would never have dreamed of making a decision for her without her say. Unfortunately, he was now too concerned with the state of his own affairs to take into consideration the opinions of a mere woman.

  “Anne.” His voice was softer now; filled with more patience than she had heard in over a year. “I know that this seems sudden…”

  “Sudden! I have not even made my bow to the Queen and you have already decided that I should be a future Duchess. I have not danced with a single gentleman, yet you have chosen a Marquess and my permanent partner.”

  “Please!” All of the patience was now gone from his voice, replaced by a steel he used typically with his business associates. “Stop with the dramatics. I would not have made this decision if I hadn’t deemed it necessary. You and Lord Ridgely will get along quite well. His father informed me that he holds an interest in history and foreign mythologies.”