“I believed my parents’ match to have been one born out of love. Tonight, I overheard them talking of Alex, only to find out that they did not even like each other in the beginning and that my papa… How could he have not loved and respected Mama… and his vows to her?”
Her reaction was similar to his own when Alex had confessed who his papa was. Disappointment was one of many emotions Matthew experienced as he realized Flarinton, the man on whom Matthew had wished to model his own behavior, had broken his vow to love and honor his wife. He imagined Grace experienced the same.
Grace stiffened in his arms. “You said he was well protected—by whom?”
His hand stilled. “Your betrothed.” Ellingsworth’s warning raced through his mind. Grace shouldn’t be in his arms, but he wasn’t ready to relinquish his hold on her.
“Tobias? Why would…”
Drawing her chin up, he said, “Archbroke sequestered Blake and me into a private room at White’s for supper—he was in a rather chatty mood.” Matthew grinned. Married to Theo, Archbroke’s priorities had undoubtedly changed. “Alex and Ellingsworth have much in common. Both seek to escape the societal bonds linked to their lineage.” Grace’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t being succinct as he struggled to diplomatically explain, “Neither of the men were birthed by a titled women. It was one of the reasons Archbroke assigned your brother to become better acquainted with your fiancé. It also explains why Ellingsworth has no love for his sire.”
Grace’s eyes widened as his words registered. “While you were gone, I’ve come to the conclusion you are absolutely correct.”
That was a first. Grace rarely confessed to any matter, let alone to another being right. “About what?” Matthew asked.
With a sigh, she leaned her head back against his chest. “The existence of PORFs, their supporting network. I’ve amassed enough evidence that supports your theory that both Burke and Archbroke are indeed PORFs.” She slid her hand up to rest between his heart and her cheek.
Did she feel his increased heartbeat? Would she recognize how much her words had meant to him? Grace had not abandoned their secret project, which meant she’d never lost hope in him.
Clearing his throat of emotion, Matthew asked, “What of the third family?”
“You mean Hadfield.”
“When did you piece all of this together?”
“The other night at my engagement party. But today, while I was at Gunter’s tea shop, is when I came to the conclusion that your theories were not merely old wives’ tales.”
He flinched back an inch as she reached up to touch his face. Matthew relaxed his fingers that were digging into her waist. The reminder of her betrothal dinner had Matthew shifting her off his lap. “You’re engaged to Ellingsworth.” He had no right to be holding her.
After wriggling back into his lap, she settled herself firmly and waited until he met her gaze. “Tobias is in love with another. He told me himself last night. He has plans to be reunited with his true love in America.”
Fantasies of having Grace back in his arms was what drove Matthew to continue to breathe and awaken during his darkest days. Having her upon his lap, as she was now, snuggled against him, was heaven. For months he had believed he’d never be able to hold her, touch or kiss her. Grace placed her lips upon his, and he released the groan that threatened his sanity. She traced her tongue along the seam of his mouth.
He kept his lips sealed but ached to let her in. Ellingsworth had admitted their engagement was a sham. If the man planned to jilt Grace, she could be his. She would never act dishonorably. He would figure it all out—later. As soon as his lips parted, her sweet tongue darted into his mouth. The taste of honey flooded his senses as he kissed her back until they broke for a breath.
Continuing to place light kisses along his jaw, Grace mumbled, “I’ve missed you.”
He too had yearned for her touch. Months of attempting to banish her from his heart and soul were wiped away with her kisses. “We shouldn’t.” But even as he uttered the words, his hand sneaked under the tartan and cupped her breast.
“Tobias keeps insisting that all will be as it should be, and I shall obtain what my heart truly desires. My heart has always desired you. If what he says is true, and I believe him, must we wait?”
Two months shy of two years, they had been apart—twenty-two months of longing for the woman, warm and willing in his arms. He didn’t have the willpower to insist they postpone their kisses and intimate touches. Grace tugged on his coat buttons. Moments later, she had skillfully managed to snake her hands under his shirt. He had not donned a jacket or waistcoat in his haste to meet her. He was particularly glad he had forgone the extra layers, for the feel of her hands upon him once more was like a soothing balm.
His muscles twitched under her palm. The woman knew his favorite spots to taunt and tease. She ran a finger over his nipple, and a jolt of pleasure shot right to his loins. Memories of her tongue gliding over his flesh and swirling about his nipple had him shifting.
On a ragged breath, he said, “Honey.”
Grace ran her tongue along his lower lip, and the rest of his speech faltered. Her lips fused to his, granting him the soul-searing kiss he had dreamed about night after night. His brain fogged over. All he wanted was to have her soft skin under his palms. He tugged at the neckline of her nightgown and eased his hand over her bosom. Rolling her pert nipple between his fingers, Grace released a raspy moan. She always rewarded him with verbal cues of what she did and did not find pleasure in. Grace wiggled, and his hands were dislodged from her chest and slid to her waist. She removed her hands from under his shirt and placed them on each shoulder. Leaning in to kiss him, she kept her lips on his as she shifted and hiked up her skirts to allow her to straddle him. His hands immediately skimmed lower to seek out her lush thighs. He rubbed her skin chilled by the cool air as she rocked against him. With the material of her gown out of the way, he ran his thumb over her slit.
“Touch me. Please don’t stop.” Grace let out a contented sigh and rocked harder. “It’s been too many months. Matthew, I need you…”
He didn’t want to be reminded of his time away from her. Pushing away the dark thoughts that threatened to intrude, Matthew devoured her mouth. His thumb slid easily back and forth. She was wet and ready. Plunging two fingers into her core, a wave of energy rolled through him. Just as he remembered, her channel was tight and slick. It was frighteningly familiar and mirrored his dreams of having her in his arms, her inner muscles clenching about him. Except it wasn’t his fingers that her core tightened around, it was his manhood that currently strained against his damn breeches.
Nibbling on her neck, he pounded his fingers deep, his palm slapping against her.
“Oh. Matthew, please…” Grace’s pleas hastened his movements until he could feel her muscles spasm.
She ground against his palm in a circular motion. He was close to finding his own release as she rubbed over him. Grace’s head fell back, and hard shudders rocked her body.
Resting her forehead upon his, she smiled. “Oh, how I’ve longed to be right here—with you.”
The crunch of gravel under boots filtered through Matthew’s foggy brain. Lifting Grace’s limp body from him, he stood and sat her upon the bench. He grabbed the discarded tartan and wrapped it tightly about her. There was nothing he could do about her torn nightgown but hide its condition. He turned away from the entrance and hastily tucked his lawn shirt into his breeches. Fumbling with his coat buttons, he turned at the rap of knuckles against the wood post.
Ellingsworth stepped out from the shadows. “Harrington.”
“Lord Ellingsworth.” Matthew came face-to-face with Grace’s furious betrothed.
“You can dispense with the formalities, Harrington. I’m here to discuss a few matters with my intended, including the details of our wedding.” Ellingsworth’s cold stare remained on Matthew.
Grace spoke before he could. “But you told me you are in love with a
nother.”
Ellingsworth didn’t blink at the mention of his love. He simply replied, “What does love have to do with our nuptials? You gave your word, and there is nothing more to it.”
There was a message in Ellingsworth’s gaze that Matthew’s guilty mind couldn’t decipher. He turned to Grace, lifted his left shoulder, and let it fall casually in a half shrug. A signal to ignore his words and trust that he would explain later. “Ellingsworth is right. You gave him your word.” As he passed Grace’s intended, he added, “Give her the respect she is due.”
Ellingsworth nodded and turned his attention to Grace.
As Matthew walked behind the gazebo, he heard, “You were supposed to convince him to go along with this farce, not…” The man ceased speaking and waited. Waited for Matthew to leave. Ellingsworth’s speech would not be received well, for it was delivered in a decidedly conceited tone that Grace would not care for, not in the least.
He trudged through the garden and noted the young footman had returned along with Ellingsworth. Matthew’s shoulder relaxed. Glad he had not left Grace alone with Ellingsworth, he replayed her betrothed’s parting words as he made his way home.
What the bloody hell was the man up to? When was the sham to end? Matthew froze as the answer to his own question, hit him—the church.
With a bounce in his step that had been missing for many months, Matthew returned to his townhouse eager to share the half-concocted scheme to marry Grace with Blake. If the stars would align, he’d manage to time the ceremony with the departure of the Quarter Moon, upon which Ellingsworth would be aboard. But in order for his plan to succeed, he’d need to call in a few favors.
Chapter Fifteen
Grace glared at her fiancé. The gall of the man to barge into her retreat and attempt to lecture her. She pulled the soft tartan tighter about her shoulders. Her skin tingled, still sensitive from Matthew’s skillful attentions. Blast Tobias and his bloody timing. Reining in her ire, Grace said, “I’d prefer you not speak to me in that tone.”
Tobias raked his ice-blue eyes over her face and lowered his gaze to the vee of the tartan. “Watching you come undone with your legs spread wide, Harrington’s fingers inside you, was the most pleasurable experience I’ve had in over a year.”
Shocked, Grace asked, “You saw us?”
“I would have been a fool to interrupt. Your features in the height of pleasure can only be described as exquisite. Eyelashes fluttering upon rosy red cheeks and… your oh-so-plump lips parted and shaped to form an O.” He shifted his weight and, without hesitation, adjusted his manhood right in front of her. “No one should be denied those heights of pleasure and gratification. Oh no, my dear. That would have left you in a rather foul mood.”
Though she was normally slow to anger, Tobias’s loathsome statements had Grace’s ire blazing. Foul mood indeed. Men and their bloody belief that obtaining climax was the sole purpose of having intimate relations. Bah. It might be the pinnacle of the experience, but certainly not the most pleasurable.
Grace arched her brow sardonically. “I suppose you like to watch.”
Tobias chuckled. He finally raised his gaze to meet hers. “Since I do not partake, yes. Albeit not as satisfying, observing does assist in relieving some of the tension.”
Grace’s pent-up frustrations had hardly been reduced by her interlude with Matthew. In fact, it had fortified and intensified her desires for him.
Refocusing on the man standing before her with a wolfish grin, she asked, “Are you stating the gossip about your debauchery is all lies?” She didn’t bother to mollify her tone.
“Hmm. I’m not familiar with the nattering that filters through the drawing rooms of my so-called peers. But I can honestly state I’ve not had the pleasure of a woman’s lips”—his gaze narrowed on her mouth—“nor body in fourteen months, sixteen days, and”—he pulled out his pocket watch—“eight hours.”
“Impossible!” He was reported to be a frequent patron of Madame Sinclair’s establishment.
Tobias leaned back slightly to look out the entrance. “I’d ask Harrington to testify that such self-restraint was possible. However, it appears he has indeed left. If I were a betting man, I’d wager Harrington would be able to quote the exact period of his abstinence down to the minute prior to this evening.”
To the minute would have been a feat. Grace was fully aware it had been twenty-three months, three days, and six hours since Matthew had last made love to her, but she could not attest to the minutes.
She shook her head, clearing it of doubts and images that made her ill. “Why are you really here?”
“I already told you—to discuss our wedding.” He meandered over to peek through the trellis and then returned to sit next to her at a socially acceptable distance.
It appeared Tobias intended to keep his word and give her the proper respect that was due to her. Never mind that her nightgown was in shatters and her hair was a tangled mess, falling about her shoulders and down her back.
Legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles, Tobias said, “Three weeks hence, I shall be aboard the Quarter Moon and headed west for America.”
She shouldn’t care what was on the other side of the pond that held his interest, but her curiosity got the best of her. “How do you even know if this woman you claim to love remains unwed?” If it had been over a year, there was a possibility this mystery woman might have already married and birthed a child.
“You are not the only one with connections in foreign lands. Friends of Eliza have been providing updates. They do not know the cause, but Eliza has postponed the announcement of her betrothal thrice now. My hypothesis is she is waiting for me to figure out how to escape from the clutches of the devil who sired me.”
“Hmmm… How well do you know these friends of Elizabeth?”
He pivoted to glare at Grace. “Her name is Eliza.” With a sigh, he turned away. “I’m fully aware of the pitfalls of second- and third-hand information. However, like you, I can feel it in my bones. She is waiting for me to act.”
Grace shivered, unsettled by the astute observations. Tobias removed his coat and held it out to her. Seeing her dilemma, he said, “Lean forward, and I’ll wrap it about you.”
She did as he instructed. His thoughtfulness washed away the last lingering traces of anger. “I hope Eliza will acknowledge the risks and appreciate the effort you are about to undertake in order for the both of you to be reunited.”
He stood and ran his hand through his hair, giving him a disheveled appearance. It was the first indication that Tobias might have doubts or concerns about his scheme. “There is not much time remaining, and there is still one critical piece outstanding that needs to be resolved in order for my entire plan to succeed.” He walked about in a circle and then came to stand before her. “I need your help.”
Tobias had either come to trust her or she was his last resort. Either way, she didn’t have much of a choice but to aid him. “How am I to assist you?”
“Harrington is in possession of the crown jewels that Burke believes contain an extraordinary item. A desperate man is a dangerous one, and that is what Burke has become. You need to convince Harrington to hand over the jewels to Lord Hadfield.”
Grace tilted her chin to her chest and snuggled deeper into Tobias’s coat. How peculiar that Matthew had not informed her that the crown jewels remained in his possession. Matthew had asked her to trust him, yet he didn’t trust her. Her anger threatened to reemerge.
Tobias’s booted footsteps had Grace looking up. He paced in circles.
She said, “If Matthew does have the jewels, he more than likely already has plans in place. The likelihood of accomplishing what you ask of me is remote at best.”
“Then we are doomed.”
The man was being overdramatic. “Explain to me why the treasure should be handed over to Hadfield. He isn’t an agent of either office. Nor is he a member of the Privy Council.”
“I suspect you a
lready know the reasoning, and I’m in no position to expound upon the facts. Don’t forget you agreed to trust me.”
“My memory is not faulty—but I begin to question my judgment.” His pacing was making her dizzy. She lowered her gaze to the floor and said, “Anyway, Matthew resigned. He no longer heeds my orders.”
Tobias stilled and turned to face her. “That’s not the impression I received when I came upon you.”
Her thighs pressed together. Blast the man for reminding her of her intimate encounter with Matthew. She shouldn’t have fallen into old habits, but she was done waiting for Matthew to act first. Action—that was what was required. She needed to cease reacting and begin instigating her own scheme. First, she required details. “Suppose I was able to convince Matthew to relinquish the jewels. What next?”
“Now that Hereford is entrenched in the court, you will order him to report back with Burke’s activities and task Hereford in gaining the ear and trust of the Prince Regent.”
“Were you the one responsible for Hereford’s appointment? I know it wasn’t Archbroke. He would have chosen one of his own agents.”
“It is neither here nor there who was responsible for Hereford’s appointment. The man is in place; now you need to issue the orders.” Tobias tugged at his left sleeve, nearly yanking it out of its seam. As if he was covering something.
“I shall not agree to assist unless I know all.”
“Not possible. Convince Harrington to hand over the jewels. Use whatever means necessary…” Tobias’s eyes lowered to where his coat had slipped open. “Harrington did appear rather partial to those lovelies. And don’t forget to issue the orders to Hereford.” Chuckling, he left the gazebo without another word.
Tobias was a conundrum. She stood and exited her sanctuary, ready to return to her chambers. Flanked by two footmen, Grace returned to the house. As she crossed the threshold into the kitchens, she froze at the sight of her papa seated at the kitchen table.
“Papa, why are you down here alone?”
Confessions of Lady Grace Page 11
