***
Finn stepped through the entrance and stopped at the door, observing the room. From behind his mask, he could still see everything clearly, and he wasn’t terribly impressed with the goings-on. This portion of the party was moderately respectable, and the part that was much less respectable was farther toward the interior.
“Lord Phineas,” a cool voice said at the door.
“Good evening,” he replied. He walked through the crush of people, scanning the crowd quickly. Some of his men were here. He’d seen to it himself. He felt much more at ease knowing his men were in place. He was tempted to send one of them out to watch over Claire. But she had two strapping footmen watching her. She would be fine. This wouldn’t take long.
Finn strode toward the back of the manor. There would be more going on back there, and that was where he would surely find Katherine. She lived for events such as this.
He finally saw Katherine at the back of the billiards room, draped over the arm of her new protector. Finn was surprised to find that he didn’t feel a single bit of jealousy. Mayden could have her. But he couldn’t have a child that might possibly be Finn’s.
Finn motioned toward one of his men, who stalked over toward the pair. He asked Katherine to dance. It was Lord Mayden’s turn at billiards, so he let her go with no qualms. Finn’s man swept Katherine onto the floor, holding her much too close, but that was probably as much Katherine’s doing as his detective’s. The man maneuvered her expertly around the room, toward a set of open doors on the terrace.
Finn started in that direction as soon as they crossed the threshold. He slipped out into the night, gave his man a nod, and stepped into place beside Katherine. “Finn,” she said, startling a bit.
“Katherine,” he said crisply. “I hope you are well.”
Katherine’s hand lifted toward her cheek. He could see the telltale shadows of a bruise there and another at her hairline. He took her hand in his and forced her to lift her arm. She had a ring of fingerprints on the back of her arm as well. They were well hidden by a shawl, but she couldn’t hide from him. “Don’t,” she protested, as he let his fingers graze the marks on her arm.
“Why him, Katherine?” Finn asked. He hadn’t seen her even once since the letter from her had arrived, notifying him of her choice of protectors. That he was no longer needed.
“He seemed the thing at the time,” she said. Her voice cracked.
“Are you happy?” he asked. He eyed her bruises, and she flushed under his frank appraisal.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I needed to talk with you.”
“I heard,” he said with a nod. “Is it true?”
Her eyebrows pushed together. “Is what true?”
“Are you increasing? And is it mine?”
Finn heard a gasp from behind him and turned to find Claire standing outside the doorway, merely a few feet from where they stood. Claire clutched at her heart, laying her hand flat over her chest like she needed a moment to collect herself. “Blast and damn,” he gritted out. “What are you doing here?”
***
The woman dressed in blue sapphire was expecting a baby, and it was Finn’s. Goodness, what a muddle. Two women expecting at the same time. Claire absently wondered how many more there were as she pushed through the crowd and back toward the front door. Finn called for her to wait. But if she waited, she would break. She would rip into a million pieces. She would shatter. And he would see her.
Already tears pricked at the backs of her lashes. She ran through an open doorway and down a long corridor. At the end, she opened the first door she found and stumbled into the middle of someone’s interlude. Heavy grunts bumped the walls and the desk upon which the thrusting was centered shifted to rub heavily against the floor. Claire spun and fled. Laughter followed in her wake.
She sighted a stairwell at the other end of the corridor and ran in that direction. When she got to the top, she hid in the curtains that lined the railing. But from behind them, she could see that the area where she stood looked down upon the ballroom. She stood still, hiding the folds of her red gown within the curtains.
She didn’t think he could break her heart. He was just a man she’d spent a single night with. And not even a whole night. Merely a few hours. But she was suffering the consequences of her actions. And he had another woman who was doing the same. Damn him!
“Claire,” a voice hissed from outside the curtains. She wiped her nose instead of sniffling as she truly needed to do. “Claire,” he hissed again. This time, she couldn’t keep from sniffling. The curtains parted and he stepped into the darkness with her. “Damn it, Claire, what are you doing here?”
“Not watching you with your paramour,” she said. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts.
“Former paramour,” he said quietly. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she said. Then she steeled herself. “You should have told me that you had a child on the way.”
“Why the devil would I do that?” he asked. He had a point. Why would he do that? She was nothing to him.
“That’s what you came here to ask her about?” She wiped her hand beneath her nose. She hated that he got even a hint of her tears. Absolutely loathed it. And herself for getting into this situation.
“Yes, that’s what I needed to ask about.” He reached for her, his hand cupping her neck as he tilted her head back with his thumb. “But tell me why that bothers you.”
“It doesn’t.”
His eyes narrowed; she could see them even in the darkness. “The truth, Claire.”
She couldn’t tell him about her own condition. He was already dealing with one lady who was expecting his child. The man would be bound for Bedlam if he found out about Claire. Goodness, what a mess.
“Did you think you were the only one I’d ever had relations with?” The corners of his lips tipped up ever so slightly.
“Your list of conquests is probably long and varied.” She bit out through gritted teeth, “And I hate that I’m on it.”
“Is that what’s bothered you? That you weren’t my first? Come on, Claire. I can’t undo my past. Don’t ask it of me because it’s not fair.” He groaned and touched his forehead to hers. “You weren’t one of a list of women, Claire,” he tried. But he sounded like an idiot.
“I was one night,” she said. Her voice was not much more than a reluctant grunt.
“Did you want it to be more than that?” He looked into her eyes.
Did she? She was expecting his child. It couldn’t be more, however, because he was not of her world. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
He tipped her face up toward his again. His lips touched hers gently. He wiped a tear from where it pooled at the corner of her eye. “Could you have feelings for me, Claire?” he whispered.
“I could never love you,” she replied. She couldn’t. It was forbidden.
“Let’s go back to the Hall and discuss this there.”
He took her hand and tugged her from behind the curtains. She jerked her hand from his grasp. “How many have there been since me, Finn?” she asked. Goodness, she didn’t want to ask. But she had to.
“How many what?” His eyes narrowed at her suspiciously.
“Women, Finn. How many have there been?” She fidgeted with a loose string on her glove.
He hesitated, and then took a deep breath and said, “None, Claire. How could there be anyone else when all I can think about is you?”
Claire’s heart skittered. She opened her mouth to ask him to confirm what he’d just said, but then Katherine stumbled into the area. “Finn?” she asked. The question didn’t need to be answered. The woman instinctively knew that there was something between Finn and Claire. Katherine smiled softly. “It’s not yours,” she admitted.
Claire’s heart leaped.
“Why d
id you tell everyone it was?”
“Because I needed to see you. I needed your help.”
“You could have sent a letter,” Finn said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
“He watches my mail.”
It was then that Claire noticed the bruises. She touched a hand to her own cheek. “Is that why you needed help?” Claire asked. Her heart clenched within her chest.
“I’m afraid,” the woman whispered.
“Help her, Finn,” Claire said without even thinking. “You can help her, can’t you?”
Finn nodded, though he looked pained.
“Take her with us tonight.”
“That won’t be easy,” he warned.
“You can’t send her back to him.” Claire asked the lady, “Are you truly expecting?”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “But it’s not Finn’s. It’s Mayden’s.”
Claire clutched Finn’s arm. “Take her with us.”
Finn nodded, swiping a hand down his face.
The woman held up a finger. “Can you give me a few minutes? I need to get my reticule.”
“Quickly,” Finn said with a nod.
The woman scurried away in the dark, and Finn laughed beneath his breath. “This cannot end well.”
“You cannot let her go back to him.”
“I suppose I can’t. What do you propose I do with her?”
“Take her back to the Hall.”
“I can’t take that kind of woman to my family’s ancestral home.”
“We can tell people she’s a friend of mine.”
“Everyone knows who Katherine Crawfield is, and you do not need that kind of friend.”
“Just for a night? You can figure out something else tomorrow.”
Finn nodded. “We need to find something to do while she retrieves her reticule.”
Thirteen
Claire looked down over the ballroom and noticed that it had gone dark, aside from the light of a few flickering lamps. She walked to the rail and looked down. In the center of the room, a naked man and woman danced a waltz. “Let’s go,” Finn said again, as he tugged her toward the door. But her gaze was riveted. She drew her hand from his and placed them both on the rail.
Her heart was beating as fast as the hooves of a runaway team of horses. The bodice of her gown was suddenly so tight she could barely take a deep breath. She laid a hand on Finn’s arm and looked up at him.
His eyes sparkled with sudden awareness. He stepped closer behind her, his length pressing along hers. His arms slid around her waist. “Do you want to watch?” he murmured in her ear. His voice was rough again, and it crawled across her skin like lace, ticklish yet firm.
“I’ll probably go to hell for this, but you look so damn intrigued,” he said. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and pulled a chair from its spot beside the wall, partially hiding it behind the curtains, but positioning it so that they could see out. He sat down and patted his lap. “Sit,” he said gently. He tugged her fingertips until she stood between his parted legs. Then he patted his knee again. “Sit.”
“We should probably go.”
“You want to watch them.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “And I want to watch you watch them.”
“I don’t think—” she started. But he cut her off when he wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her down.
“Don’t think,” he said. “Just sit.”
She perched precariously on his knee, which seemed much sturdier than she’d thought. Every part of him was sturdy. He obviously didn’t live the life of leisure she’d assumed. He was lithe as a cat, and his body was strong and fit.
“I wanted to talk about—” she tried again, keeping her body rigid in his lap.
“Let’s discuss it later.” His hand landed on her hip, drawing her more comfortably into the shelter of his embrace. When had it become shelter? She wasn’t certain, but the thought was a little disturbing. She fought to remain rigid.
A bell rang down below, its insistent peal catching her ears. And Finn’s too, if the way he sat up to look over the railing was any indication.
“What’s going on down there?” she asked.
“Remember the live intercourse I mentioned?” he replied with a smirk.
“With actors?”
He grinned and shrugged. “Does it matter?”
He was interested now, sitting forward so that his front came up to meet her back. He sat up higher in the chair and tucked her bottom more snugly into his lap so that she was facing forward, still seated between his bent legs.
A shiver crawled up her spine as he brushed her hair to the side. “Oh, sorry,” she murmured as she gathered the lot of it and drew it over her right shoulder.
“Don’t be. I love it.” He tucked a stray lock behind her ear.
“All these curls. I don’t quite know what to do with them.”
“Well, I don’t love the color, but it always smells so good. Like sunshine. You’re certain it will wash out?” She nodded as he leaned his head into her neck and breathed deeply. The cool movement as he inhaled had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. This time, she did shiver. “Are you cold?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not a bit.” In fact, she was a bit overly warm.
“I lose all my common sense when I look at you,” he said softly by her ear. She closed her eyes for a moment to keep from swooning.
“Did you have any to begin with, my lord?” she teased.
A grin quirked the corners of his lips as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek below her mask. She smiled. She couldn’t help it.
The bustle of footmen below caught his attention. They hefted a big bed into the middle of the room and then placed a barrier around it.
“That’s a bed. Why are they putting a bed in the middle of the room?”
“Keep watching. You’ll see. You’re not offended by it, are you?” He suddenly looked concerned about the fact that he was allowing her to watch such a show. “Perhaps we should leave. Your father and my brother will murder me if they find out I brought you here.”
Viewing the show would be the least of his concerns.
“You know who they are?”
“I believe so,” he replied. “But they’ll be masked.”
“I see.” She didn’t know what more she could say. “Why?”
“Some people like to be watched.” He shrugged his shoulders. He pointed out the seating area the footmen were setting up outside the roped enclosure around the bed. “And even more like to do the watching.”
Both men and women were taking seats in the audience section. “The women, are they paid to attend?”
He shook his head. “They come because they like it. Many of them come with men. To share the experience. Still others come alone and try to find an interested party.”
“They’re about to begin,” she said, settling into his arms a little more deeply.
***
Finn was about to insist that they leave and go home. But her curiosity won out over his need to get her out of there. And he wouldn’t give up an opportunity to have her in his arms. The lights dimmed as footmen doused the lamps around the edges of the room. Only a single bright light hung over the bed.
Footmen milled about the room below stairs, ensuring everything was in place.
He allowed his hand to stroke over her hip. She didn’t even flinch away from his touch.
She looked out over the railing and said, “It’s not hard for them to bare all like that?”
“Not for some.” Speaking of hard, he’d been as hard as stone ever since she’d sat down in his lap. But she hadn’t noticed. He adjusted her bottom for a better fit.
“I should get my own chair,” she said as she started to rise. But he snaked an arm around her waist and drew her back d
own.
“I like holding you,” he said. “Stay.”
She settled back gingerly into his lap.
Two performers approached the makeshift stage. “And so it begins,” she whispered. “Do you enjoy these shows?”
“I don’t get overly amorous because of them, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Do they affect you at all?”
He didn’t answer, and she let the subject drop as the man and woman on the stage began to perform. As they wove their exotic little dream before the spectators, Finn watched Claire.
“Sit back,” he coaxed gently, bringing her body back to rest against him. Her head landed on his shoulder. She fit him. From top to bottom she fit him. Why had he not realized that before? It was almost like she was made to fit into his arms.
He brought one hand around her body to lie on her stomach. She moved it quickly to her hip, her eyes fixed on the stage. The players were now naked, and the man tossed the woman onto the bed. Claire giggled.
“Liked that, did you?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“I like their easy camaraderie,” she said quietly. “You can tell they’re in love.”
“How?” He was blind to it, obviously.
“By the way they look at one another,” she breathed, totally enraptured by what the players were doing.
Finn and Claire were shrouded in complete darkness up on the landing. He almost wished it wasn’t dark, so he could see her face.
The man on the stage took his lover’s breasts in his hands and drew them to his lips. Claire’s bottom twitched against Finn’s lap. Was she getting aroused?
“This makes your heart beat faster,” he said softly in her ear, loving the lemony scent of her.
“I supposed it does,” she said, squirming a little in his arms.
“It makes my heart beat faster too.” She immediately stilled. She didn’t even breathe.
Finn began to move his fingers across her stomach in a slow motion that finally turned into a roaming caress that went from beneath her breasts to her hips. She sat still and watched what was on the stage.
The Magic of I Do Page 8
