A Daring Deception

by Trentham, Laura

  Chapter 24

  “Just pull the bloody thing out, Masterson.” Selwyn McKelvey gritted his teeth.

  “You’ve been dealt worse.” Gray ripped the man’s trousers, removed a flask from the inside of his jacket, and poured liquor over the wound.

  McKelvey jammed his fist against his mouth, not quite stifling a low groan. “Not recently. I’d forgotten how much it hurts to get stabbed.”

  “I’d guess it hurts worse coming from a lady who you top by a good eight inches and outweigh by at least six stone.” The tease in Gray’s voice settled Simon’s churning stomach. Surely he wouldn’t be so cavalier if McKelvey was in danger of expiring in his kitchen.

  “Give me the blasted flask and do what you must. Why I agreed to take part in this madcap scheme is beyond me.” The man took a long swig from the flask and grimaced.

  “Because you need the coin,” Gray said baldly before yanking the weapon out.

  The man hissed and writhed a moment before bending over to examine his leg. Blood welled, but it didn’t appear excessive. “You owe me a horse, by the way. The woman stole it.”

  Gray muffled laughter. “No one will believe it when I tell them the fearsome Wyn McKelvey was bested by a slip of a woman.”

  “Women can be the most devious and dangerous of all creatures.” McKelvey took the object Gray had pulled from his thigh and let out a bark of laughter. “A letter opener. The woman is resourceful, I’ll give her that.”

  Simon paced the length of his town house’s kitchen. They were doing their best to stay quiet and not rouse the servants. Not only did they deserve their sleep, but Simon didn’t relish having to explain why a man had been stabbed and was receiving treatment at the servants’ table.

  Gray finished dressing McKelvey’s wound, and the man rose and took a tentative step. He drained the remaining liquor in the flask and raised his brows at Simon. “Why don’t we retreat to your study for a real drink and a discussion on the next steps?”

  “Good plan,” Gray said, already moving toward in that direction.

  McKelvey followed with only a slight limp. “Better than the one you two laid this evening.”

  Simon took up the rear. “It was coming along fine until you got yourself stabbed.”

  “Sir! Sir, I need to speak with you.” Peters, his butler, popped out of a chair that had been placed next to a small seldom-used receiving room and intercepted him in the middle of the entry.

  “I told you not to wait up for me, Peters. You look exhausted. Go to bed.”

  “A woman arrived, sir.” Peters pointed to the receiving room.

  The butler’s pronouncement startled all three men to stillness.

  The butler’s gaze darted from one man to the next. “I-I didn’t know what to do. She forced herself inside and refused to leave.”

  Simon leaped at the door, his heart hammering. A dark chill hovered in the room. Gray was close behind him, holding a taper. A woman lay on the settee with her back to them, her gold gown shimmering in the candlelight.

  Simon wanted to fall to his knees and thank the gods she was here and safe. It was a bloody miracle she’d made it past Peters. He was of the old guard and more formal and dictatorial than any duke.

  His relief unknotted the guilt he’d hauled around since the theater. She’d sought him out even after the dreadful evening. He dropped to a squat next to the settee and found one of her hands. It was frozen even in her dirty satin glove.

  “Ask Peters to have the fires stoked in my chambers, would you, Masterson?” Simon didn’t look around to see if his command was being followed, but he heard Gray retreat.

  Jessica shifted to face him but didn’t open her eyes. Her gown was dirty and ripped, exposing a scandalous expanse of bosom.

  “Is she hurt?” McKelvey asked in his gravelly voice behind him.

  The sound roused Jessica like a bucket of cold water on her head. Her eyes popped open, and she let out a choked scream, shrinking into the corner of the settee. “No! How did you find me? Don’t touch me, or I’ll put a dagger into your heart. I swear it!”

  She hadn’t even seen Simon in her terror. He sat on the edge of the settee and bent over her, blocking her view of McKelvey, who he would have stern words with later for frightening Jessica so thoroughly. “You’re safe, love. I promise. You’re safe.”

  Her expression changed as soon as his identity registered. She threw herself at his chest, rocking him back, and clamped her arms around his neck with the strength of a constrictor.

  “I’m safe?” she whispered.

  “Always with me. I’m so sorry for earlier at the theater and… and everything,” he finished weakly. “I asked you to trust me, but I didn’t know what that would mean at the time. I had to make sure Goforth didn’t suspect I’d make a move to extract you from the situation.”

  “Lady Herriot is not your mistress?”

  He hesitated a moment. Only the truth would do. “Lady Herriot and I were lovers years ago, but we parted as friends, and that’s our only connection now. Honestly, I feel guilty for using her as I did tonight.”

  Jessica pulled away, glanced over his shoulder, and tensed. “Why is that man here?”

  Without turning, Simon said, “Go help yourself to the brandy in my study, would you, McKelvey?”

  “Where’s my horse?” McKelvey asked brusquely.

  “In the duke’s stable. It’s a gentle creature.” Unlike you. Jessica’s unspoken qualifier seemed to hover in the air.

  McKelvey’s lips twitched, and he performed a small bow. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

  Simon knew he was gone when Jessica relaxed against the cushion. “You sent him?”

  “McKelvey was one of Masterson’s colleagues during the war. The aim was to have someone intimidating who Goforth wouldn’t recognize as anyone associated with me do the bidding.”

  “A word of warning would have been appreciated. He nearly scared me to death.”

  “If you’d known, you might have given the game away. It was too important. McKelvey had to win you without raising Goforth’s suspicions that I might be financing him.”

  Jessica jerked straight. “I stabbed him.”

  Simon’s lips twitched in spite of the situation. “You should apologize to soothe his ego, if nothing else.”

  “But—”

  “The wound was clean and will heal.” Simon pulled her to his chest and rocked her slightly. “I’m proud of your quick thinking though. It seems you didn’t need saving after all.”

  “What happens next?”

  “Next is a bath and a rest.”

  “Goforth is threatening to pull Blake from school. I can’t allow it.”

  “We have time. Goforth is under the impression McKelvey has you for three days.”

  Jessica picked at the ripped fabric of her glove. “If Goforth discovers we took him for a fool, he will retaliate. It’s his nature.”

  “We’ll figure everything out.” He lay a kiss on her nose. “Together.”

  Jessica shook her head, not meeting his gaze. “Do you regret I’m not a simple maid with simple problems?”

  “I regret nothing. Least of all your complications.” He rose and held out a hand. “Will you come with me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. Knowing how precious her trust was, he swore to himself not to take it for granted again. Hand in hand, they exited the receiving room. He instructed Peters to rouse two footmen to ready a bath for Jessica.

  Gray emerged from the study as Simon and Jessica made their way to his chambers on the second floor. He nodded with an unusual solemnity. “Are you well, Miss Tremaine?”

  “Dirty and sore, but alive and safe. Thank you for standing by us during this endeavor.” Her voice was strong enough, but she sagged against Simon.

  The flash of a smile made Gray’s green eyes spark with life. “Love can be a dangerous adventure. Sometimes we need a little help from our friends to win the day.”

  She let out a little
chuff. “It’s a good thing Simon has friends, because I have none to call upon.”

  Gray tutted. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Lady Drummond and Lady Wyndam have both pleaded your case.”

  Jessica’s intake of breath was small but noticeable. “I hope to thank them for their kindness soon.”

  “Jessica needs rest. You’re welcome to pass the night here. You and McKelvey both.”

  “I’ll drag McKelvey home with me. Lily enjoys hosting the brute. She finds his stories of derring-do exciting. When would you like to reconnoiter?”

  It was still dark out, but dawn crept ever closer. “Come back this afternoon. I’ll ask Rafe to be here too. The more heads we have, the better.”

  Behind him, two footmen carried a tub up the stairs. Simon led Jessica on to his chamber. She went straight to warm her hands at the stoked fire while the footmen left for hot water. After stripping off her dirty gloves, she balled them up and tossed them into the flames. Sparks crackled as the satin burned.

  He came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders, kneading the tight muscles. Her beautiful gold dress would be good for nothing but the rag bin. Grime marred the torn fabric. She lifted her skirts before letting them swish around her ankles. “I have nothing else to wear.”

  “You seem to be missing a slipper as well.”

  “Lost off the side of the horse.”

  “How did you manage to ride from there to here?” He chuckled slightly until the realities of what could have befallen her on the trip triggered his imagination.

  “Without your lesson, I would never have found the gumption to even attempt riding.”

  “You must have been terrified and unsure of where to turn.”

  Her chin wobbled, and a tear trickled out. He gathered her in his arms. Her sobs were muffled in his neck cloth. The footmen returned with buckets of hot water, well trained enough to ignore the waterworks from the woman in the room. She cried through the trips needed to fill the tub. Finally, he dismissed the footmen and locked the door behind them.

  Her eyes were swollen and red, and her nose was running. He offered her a kerchief from his pocket. She turned away to blow, a sound that made him smile.

  “I must look a fright,” she said.

  “You look lovely as always.”

  She chuffed and glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “You’re lying.”

  “Come now, your bath is ready. You’ll feel better after you’re warm and clean.” He began unfastening her gown.

  She spun away, holding her tattered bodice over her breasts. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of you.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “Indeed not. I’m well acquainted with your womanly attributes.” He imbued a hint of dark tease into his words, but lightened his tone. “Let me take care of you, love. I must make amends for my earlier caddishness.”

  “Yes, you must,” she said tartly and presented her back to him once more.

  Her hair was a half-pinned mass, and he plucked out the remaining pins until the thick waves tumbled over her shoulders. Next he divested her of gown and stays with deft hands.

  Her chemise was of the finest, thinnest cotton. Blood rushed to his cock. A brace of candles on the stand next to the bed cast a soft light around the room. He could see the outline of her bottom through the garment, and his fingers itched to explore the lush curves.

  He controlled the urge and instead knelt. He removed her one slipper and then skimmed his hands up her calf to the ribbon holding her stocking in place. He made quick work of the first one, only allowing his hands to wander as far as the delicate skin at the back of her knee. With her hand braced on his shoulder, she trembled under his touch. The other stocking was peeled away and discarded over his shoulder.

  He stood facing her and slipped the strap of her chemise over her shoulder a slow inch at a time. She grasped the fabric before it could fall to the floor.

  “The water will cool if you don’t get in.” He kept the smile off his face, but it imbued his words.

  “I’ll be naked.”

  He laid a kiss on her bare shoulder before sliding his lips over her collarbone. “It’s generally how baths are accomplished.”

  “Some young ladies bathe with their underthings on.” Her voice was growing more breathless with every kiss he brushed over her bare skin.

  “But you are a lady of knowledge, lest you forget the night we spent together in bed.” He brushed her lips with his. “You needn’t worry, I’ll not take advantage of you this night.”

  “It’s not worry but modesty I’m struggling with at the moment.”

  “No need to be modest with me. I’ve seen every beautiful inch of you.” He tugged on her chemise.

  She let it fall to the floor. He didn’t let his gaze linger, even though he longed to chart her every curve. He helped her into the bath. She sank into the water with a hiss of pleasure.

  He stripped to his shirt and trousers and took a seat next to the tub on a stool, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. Water clung to her lashes like tiny jewels. “Are you here to make sure I don’t drown?”

  “As you are lacking a maid, I will play the part and wash you.” He took up a cloth, lathered it with soap, and lifted her hand. He took his time, cleaning each finger before kissing the tips. Next came her forearm and elbow, finishing with a kiss to the inside crook. He glided the cloth up her biceps and washed her shoulder and neck, the motion more a massage than a scrubbing.

  As he hoped, she relaxed into his touch, her muscles growing slack. He walked around the tub and performed the same with her other arm and shoulder. By the time he dipped the cloth over her collarbone, her protest was limited to a gasp on parted lips.

  As the cloth circled lower, she arched her back, her peaked nipples breaching the water. “I’m not sure what you imagine in your moments of depravity, but I can assure you my maid does not wash me in this fashion.”

  The invitation was one he couldn’t refuse. He cupped her breast and thrummed her nipple with his thumb. “Your actual maid has never made an appearance during one of my moments of depravity.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Her eyes were languid, and her voice dreamy. “It was an odd feeling to be jealous of myself, by the way.”

  “I thought I was going mad after our fall in the drawing room. After I hit my head, I was certain you were… you—the weight of your body, your scent, the taste of your mouth—but after Minerva roused me, I was just as certain it had been a trick of my imagination. I was very confused.”

  “I was just as certain you had figured out my ruse.”

  “If I had been thinking more with my brain and less with my cock, I might have done.” After giving her nipples a last pinch, he trailed the cloth down her belly until his fingers brushed her mons. She parted her knees and tensed.

  Hiding a smile, he withdrew his hand and circled to the end of the tub, resoaping the cloth. “Give me a foot.”

  Her eyes flashed annoyance, but she obliged, lifting a foot out of the water. He grasped the heel and proceeded to wash off the grime. After propping her foot against his stomach, his attention switched to her leg.

  “I’m getting you wet.” Her breathlessness made him smile, but he tipped his face down to hide his amusement.

  “I don’t mind as long as you don’t mind me getting you wet.”

  “But I’m already— Oh. You are incorrigible, Your Grace.” Her already flushed cheeks grew pinker.

  Holding the linen in one hand, he trailed both hands up and over her calf, past her knee, to her thigh. Her muscles quivered. He advanced another inch and then another until he was a hairbreadth away from touching her core. Retreating was difficult but worth the effort when she huffed out a frustrated breath.

  “Why are you teasing me so?” Petulance flavored her voice.

  “I promised to not take advantage of you.”

  “Giving me what I want is not taking advantage of me. You are being crue
l.”

  “What is it you want?” He returned her leg to the tub and took up her other foot, repeating his ministrations.

  “I want… I want…”

  He washed her other leg and again drew close to her core but stopped to hold her gaze. “We must be honest with one another from this moment to eternity. I’ll start. You did look ghastly after your cry earlier, but I loved you even more.”

  A tentative smile played around her lips as she shoved his chest lightly with her foot. “Liar.”

  “I love you more every second of the day, Jessica.” He met her gaze straight on, all teasing deserted in the face of his truth. “Now tell me what you want.”

  “So many things,” she said in a whisper.

  “Concentrate on what you want this instant.”

  Her gaze trailed down his body to where his hands dipped into the bath water. “Right this instant, I want you to pleasure me with your fingers.”

  “Yes, I want that too,” he said with satisfaction. It was enough. For now. There would be time for earth-shattering confessions later.

  He returned her leg to the water, pressed her knees to rest against the sides, and leaned farther over the tub to claim a kiss. Then he settled on the stool while she watched him through half-lidded eyes, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

  Her breasts bobbed at the surface, her nipples hard nubs. His cock throbbed. Had she any notion of her power over him? Not yet, but she would learn quickly and keep him on his knees. He wouldn’t squander the opportunity to be in charge.

  He grazed his hand down her mons and into her folds. She was slick, not with bath water, but her arousal. He ran the tip of one finger along the delicate outer tissue before finding her bud.

  Her exhale bordered on a moan, and her eyes closed. She gripped the sides of the tub, her knuckles white. He’d planned to tease her, but she didn’t allow it. Her hips bucked and sloshed water onto his shirt and trousers. Before he could tease her off the edge, she fell into bliss. Her knees clamped his hand between her leg, and she reached for his nape to pull him in for a kiss so hot he was surprised steam didn’t rise around them.