Solomon smiled. “Like it was made for you.”
He gestured for her to face the light while he compared the sapphire to her eyes. “An exact match,” he murmured. “Yes, I believe it was made for you.”
Teresa shot a glance over her shoulder, and Solomon followed her gaze. The maid sat on a bench not far away, and dozed, her chin on her chest. Soft snores emanated from her slack lips. With a grin of delight, Teresa flung herself into his arms, her hands behind his neck. “Thank you.”
Chuckling, Solomon enfolded her into a tight embrace, burying his face into the rich silk of her hair. “You are welcome.”
Pulling back from her slightly, Solomon bent his face to hers and kissed her, knowing full well he sent his tightly reined in emotions into the kiss, and was unable to stop himself. Teresa’s lips parted under his, permitting his tongue full entry. She did not pull back when his mouth explored hers, their tongues colliding, dancing, tangling. Feeling the hunger rise in him, Solomon let his hands roam from her shoulders down her back to her hips.
He half expected a cry of outrage and her hand to slap his cheek, but Teresa leaned in closer, holding him tightly, her breasts hard against his chest. Using just his fingertips, he caressed her lightly along her ribs, barely touching the sides of her breasts. She still gave no indication his touch was not welcome, and desire for her filled him. While he had little wish to deflower her, and knew her recent injuries could not handle full intimacy, he thought he might be able to pleasure her in another way.
Taking his mouth from hers, Solomon kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her nose. “Come with me.”
Teresa nodded, and slipped her hand in his. With a snapped glance at the still sleeping Elsa, Solomon led her across the courtyard and through a side door. This led into guest rooms, and at this hour few servants were in this portion of the house. Closing the door softly behind him, he led her a short way down the hall to a room.
Leading her inside, he did not light a lamp. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
In the darkness, her voice whispered, “Yes.”
Taking her to the bed, Solomon guided her onto it, and laid her down, then laid beside her. Propping his head on his elbow, he stroked the palm of his hand down from her throat to her breasts and down her flat, firm belly, taking care to keep his hand light. “I will not harm you, or take your virginity,” he murmured. “If at any time you are uncomfortable, tell me, and I will stop.”
“Very well.”
“I wish to give you pleasure, Teresa.” Solomon leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. “Show you a little of what can be between a woman and a man.”
Teresa plucked his hand from her breasts, and, for a moment, Solomon thought she would say she wanted to stop. Instead, she pulled his hand down to the area between her legs. “Pleasure me.” Her voice, low and husky, informed him of her own hunger and rising desire.
Pulling her heavy skirt up to pile over her waist, Solomon’s fingers roved over her mound and slipped between her labia. He found her warm and wet there as he toyed with her tiny nub, arousing her to new heights. Teresa moaned, her hands reaching for him as though wanting him to do more. Though his manhood filled his trousers and ached with his own need, he pushed his own desire aside. This night is for her.
Delving his fingers deeper, he entered her woman’s place, then leaned over to kiss her. With his tongue deep in her mouth and his fingers buried inside her, Solomon roused her into shaking, quivering orgasm. Teresa moaned and thrashed on the bed and Solomon tortured her with ecstasy and heightened pleasure. He liked bringing a woman to climax, loved feeling their bodies as they orgasmed. Yet, as Teresa was a virgin, his making her feel like a woman brought him plenty of satisfaction.
Teresa lay limp, panting lightly, as Solomon withdrew his hand and covered her thighs with her skirts. He kissed her cheek. “That was just a taste of what can happen between two people,” he murmured against her flesh.
“You need to marry me,” she muttered thickly. “Or I really will become a scandal.”
Solomon chuckled, nuzzling her neck. “I've made you into a trollop, have I not?”
“I do not care what the name is,” she whispered, amusement in her tone “I want more.”
Rising, he took her hand. “Not tonight, my sweet. I need to get you back before your chaperone awakens.”
Teresa followed him toward the door, her skirts rustling as she adjusted them. Opening it slightly, Solomon peeked out and saw no one in the hallway. “Come.”
With her at his side, he reentered the courtyard and found no one around. The chaperone still slept on the bench, and Solomon grinned. “You best wipe that expression from your face before we wake her.”
“What expression?”
“Like you just had a good time. All we were doing was talking.”
In the light of the lamps, he saw her rake her fingers through her hair and smooth her face into a more neutral mien. “How is that?” she asked.
“Better. Now let us proceed as though we have not been naughty.”
The maid awoke as they approached and instantly stood to curtsey.
“I am weary,” Teresa said, her voice drawling. “Will you excuse me for the night?”
“Of course. Please sleep well.”
As Solomon watched the pair cross the courtyard toward the door, he felt his own desire for Teresa finally ebb and vanish. Teresa opened it, and over the tiny maid’s head, she turned her face over her shoulder. In the light, Solomon saw her toss him a wink and a very wicked grin before the door closed behind them both.
Chapter 25
Miss Teresa Wolcott
Teresa went to bed that night without removing the necklace, and had difficulty sleeping. Constant thoughts of herself and Solomon alone in a room with a bed ran through her mind. The intense pleasure he had wrung from her body made her want to put her own fingers where his had been, but she did not dare. Such pleasuring of oneself was wrong and a sin.
“How can it be wrong?” she muttered. “Surely if God gave us bodies that feel so much joy in the touch, how can it be wrong?”
She did not know, yet the memory of how Solomon’s fingers brought her to the heights of ecstasy almost made her orgasm again. “If he did that with his hand, what else can he do?”
Finally dropping off to sleep, Teresa dreamed of his hands on her, pleasuring her in ways she had never thought were possible. Waking in the wee hours of the night, she discovered herself drenched in sweat, and her small clothes wet between her legs. “I need to get married,” she whispered into the dark before moving out of the damp spot on the sheets, and getting comfortable again.
At breakfast the next morning, she feared what had happened between herself and Solomon could be read on her face to everyone present. Working hard, she schooled her face into a faint expression of stern neutrality, as though she did not want to be in Solomon’s presence. Solomon himself appeared as he usually did, garbed in black, his expression smiling as he spoke to Thomas and Amelia, his unruly hair tumbling over his brow.
Teresa felt her heart beat faster as she curtseyed under his welcoming grin. Amelia caught sight of the pendant, and instantly any subterfuge went out the window.
“Teresa,” she exclaimed, her fingers touching the sapphire. “Where did you get that?”
“It is a gift from His Grace.”
As Amelia gasped over its beauty and worth, Teresa observed Solomon and Thomas share a glance. At first, she feared Thomas knew what had happened between them, and a fierce blush heated her face. Then her brother gave the Duke a small nod and a smile, and the fearful moment passed.
“It is but a token,” Solomon said, his own face slightly pink.
“It is quite valuable, Your Grace,” Amelia replied, turning toward him.
Solomon’s grin widened. “Yes, well, I never did anything by halves. I do have a very high opinion of Teresa and I suppose that shows. Come, let us get our breakfast before it gets cold.”
Still fearing her f
ace revealed her newfound knowledge, Teresa ate sparingly, and still avoided Solomon’s eyes. She still feared that the knowledge of what she and Solomon had done the previous evening might be plucked from her mind by Thomas, Amelia, the attending butler and all the footmen lined along the walls. Lifting her eyes at the wrong moment, she caught Solomon’s quick wink.
Choking back her giggle, Teresa turned it into a small cough, then took a drink from her tea. She knew her face flushed pink, and hoped neither Thomas nor Amelia noticed. “So you both will be going to the warehouse today?” she asked, assuming a neutral countenance
“Yes,” Solomon replied, his right brow raised as he met her gaze. “That is, if Thomas is available.”
“Of course.” Thomas eyed her with a slightly confused frown, but seemed unconcerned by her behavior. “Whenever you are ready, Sol.”
“I sent a man to Sussex to make inquiries as to the whereabouts of Elize’s maid,” Solomon went on. “He should return by tomorrow, if not today.”
“Perhaps after we talk to the owner of the warehouse,” Thomas added, “we might pay a call on the constables. To both inquire as to any, er, women that may have been pulled from the Thames as well as see if they made any progress with Albert Johnson.”
Solomon rubbed his chin. “We must find a way to encourage him to talk.”
“He has little to gain,” Thomas answered. “No incentive. If he fears that telling us who employed him will result in his death, even in a cell, then he will not talk.”
“He is a dead man either way.”
Thomas shrugged. “Again, you offered him his life and he refused. Perhaps he feels that a death by hanging is far better than what he might face in Newgate. Or a longer, more painful death if his employer has a long enough arm to reach inside the prison.”
Amelia’s face twisted in a moue of disgust. “Really, Thomas, this sort of discussion must not be spoken of at the table.”
“This is my fault, Mrs. Wolcott,” Solomon said with a small grin. “I sincerely apologize.”
“I find all this simply fascinating,” Teresa commented, smiling. “Unraveling a mystery.”
Amelia shook her head. “That is not very ladylike, Teresa.”
“Perhaps one day there will be women investigators,” Teresa replied, her tone lofty. “What men can do so also can women.”
Solomon lifted his cup to her in salute with a grin. “If a lady has a mind as sharp as yours, Teresa, I can only agree.”
“Women are discouraged from voicing their opinions,” Thomas said with a slight frown in Teresa’s direction. “I would hope you will not voice yours in public.”
“Fear not, brother,” Teresa replied with a matching scowl. “I will not embarrass you.”
“No more than you already have,” he muttered behind his teacup.
Solomon chuckled. “Come now, let us not quarrel. I think we are finished breaking our fast. Thomas, if you are ready?”
Teresa rose when Solomon did, and offered him a dip of her knee. “Good luck today, Sol.”
“Thank you.” Solomon smiled down at her. “It would be wonderful to resolve all this in one day, would it not?”
“Yes, indeed.”
After the two men left, Teresa and Amelia took their embroidery to the courtyard despite the low clouds looming overhead and the freshening breeze. “It looks as though it might rain this day,” Teresa commented as she sat down on a bench.
Amelia joined her. “What happened last night?”
Her blood running cold, Teresa gazed at her sister-in-law carefully. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Not long ago you were determined to avoid His Grace,” Amelia said. “Now he gave you a gift and your feet have not touched the floor.”
Flushing, Teresa smiled down into her embroidery. “He asked me to give him time. To finish this investigation, to sort things out in his own mind.”
“And the pendant?”
Fingering the sapphire in its golden sunburst, Teresa answered slowly, “A promise to change, to examine his feelings toward me.”
“Thomas gave me a few gifts when he courted me,” Amelia told her with a smile. .”
“This is certainly aiding me in feeling more assured about Solomon,” Teresa said. “In asking me for time to sort out his emotions, I suppose I understand him a little better.”
“I am no expert on men, by any means,” Amelia went on, “but I feel the Duke is sincere in his words and deeds.”
“And not the terrible, scandalous rake you thought him to be. Is it not interesting how our opinions can change when we get to understand a person?”
Amelia nodded. “I suppose there is indeed a lesson in there somewhere. Perhaps we should not be so quick to judge a person by rumors.”
Teresa laughed. “Exactly what I have been saying all along.”
“He is guilty from his own mouth about his behavior,” Amelia reminded her, her tone firm.
“Because he was not discreet about it,” Teresa retorted, “he was vilified. How many others in our society are just as guilty of infidelity, yet keep it quiet and out of the scandal sheets?”
Amelia shook her head. “I have no desire to know.”
“I am simply making a point that everyone in the ton has behaved just as scandalously.”
“And if you marry the Duke?” Amelia asked, her brows furrowed. “I know he is kind and very generous, but I cannot help but wonder if he truly will change. Will he remain faithful to you? Or will he continue his scandalous affairs and embarrass you?”
Teresa flushed. “I confess I have not thought that far ahead, Amelia. I would hope he will remain faithful and end them. There is no reason to speculate until he does ask me to marry him, or if he does.”
“I believe you should consider such an event happening,” Amelia replied.
“If he loves me enough,” Teresa snapped, “he will. I do not believe he is the kind of man who would carry on his liaisons if he were married.”
“For your sake, I hope not.”
Troubled and angry, Teresa pulled out a wrong thread, wondering if Amelia was right. If she did eventually marry Solomon, would he make a laughingstock of her with his scandalous behavior? While she did not believe he would, now she effectively planted that seed of doubt within her own mind. Can a man change if he wanted to badly enough?
That was the problem Teresa faced – would Solomon even want to change for her sake? Or would he love her, marry her, and refuse to remain faithful? While she wanted to trust him, as she told him she did, she could not stop herself from wondering if she was making a terrible mistake by falling in love with him. No. I must have faith that he will be true and honorable. I must believe in him.
***
Solomon Eli Dunn, the Duke of Thornehill
With Thomas guiding the way to the warehouse, Solomon kept a wary eye out for anyone who might be following them. With Anson Walters riding behind as a guard, also keeping a sharp watch, he felt able to handle any possible attack on his life if it arose. “How much further to this warehouse?” he asked Thomas.
“Not far at all,” Thomas answered with a gesture. “We turn a corner up there and ride about a mile down to the river.”
“I certainly hope I can finally get the answers I need,” Solomon groused. “Prove once and for all that Edward is stealing from me. Or prove he is not and it is someone else.”
“Any thoughts on it being someone other than Mr. Crane or Lord Oakshire?” Thomas asked with a sidelong look at him.
“I am considering other possibilities,” Solomon admitted. “If we still cannot prove it is one of them, then I will have you investigate their activities.”
“And you told me Lord Oakshire pointed you toward them?”
“Yes. He did. But that does not make him guilty.”
“No, it does not,” Thomas agreed. “However, he may be using some misdirection, Sol.”
Solomon shook his head. “You may be right, but his logic is correct. And, of course,
I want to believe in his sincerity. It was he who suggested giving the necklace to Teresa.”
“And in giving her that,” Thomas asked, “what was the intention behind it?”
“For her to realize I am indeed falling in love with her.”
Thomas grinned. “Is she going to make an honest Duke out of you?”
“Indeed she is.” Solomon laughed. “I have never felt this way before about a woman. I truly enjoy her opinions, her fierce spirit, and her independent nature.”
“She was always one to read and study,” Thomas told him. “Our mother never could teach her how to keep her knowledge to herself and not share it with society.”
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