His Party Guest: Rakes of Mayfair Book Five

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His Party Guest: Rakes of Mayfair Book Five Page 11

by Barron, Melinda


  He chuckled again. “Indeed.” He dropped the rope between them and then kissed her once, twice, three times. No matter how many times his lips met hers, by the third time she was always wishing for them to linger, for the kiss to never break. But it did, and then he held up the end of the ribbon.

  “Hold this between your hands.”

  Clarissa opened her hands enough to take the ribbon, and when he wrapped the remainder of the satiny material around her wrists it made her nipples harden.

  “Sweet Clarissa, I know this is all new to you,” he said. “The only thing I ask is that you try as hard as you can to keep the ribbon around your wrists. If you get frightened and want to let go, that is up to you. But if you get excited, as I hope you will, concentrate on keeping it tight.”

  “In other words, be disciplined and try to pay more attention to the ribbon than to you playing with my body.”

  “Exactly.” It wasn’t so bad, she decided, as he gently caressed her sides and breasts. He moved his head under her arms and captured a nipple in his mouth. She tried to move her arms so she could stroke his hair as he sucked on her, but it was impossible to do.

  Incredible sensations spread through her as he gently nibbled on first one nipple and then the other. She tried to move, and thought about pulling free so she could grasp him, but that would, to her way of thinking, be cheating. She’d promised him that she would keep hold of the ribbon as long as she could.

  He caressed and kissed and made her feel as if she might lose her senses before the whole thing was over. It was just by sheer force of will that she kept hold of the ribbon.

  When he pushed her thighs apart and knelt between them she closed her eyes and repeated, “Keep hold, keep hold,” to herself. It added a sense of excitement to the idea that he was about to be inside her, one she hadn’t expected.

  She waited, and waited, and finally she looked up to see him staring down at her. It was as if he had been waiting for that moment. He pushed inside her with such force that it took her breath away, and his manhood hit a spot inside her that sent her spiraling, just as she had the other evening. He pulled out and thrust back in, hitting the same place as before. When he did it the third time, Clarissa thought she might faint. This time he stayed inside her and thrust harder and harder, pressing his chest against her arms that were pressed against her breasts.

  It was different than the time they’d made love earlier. Both times had been frantic, but this one seemed to be a bit more harsh, and she rather enjoyed it. What did that say about her?

  Her body quaked as she felt him fill her. He collapsed on top of her and then rolled off. Clarissa let go of the ribbon and pulled her hands apart. She waited for him to ask her what she thought about it, but it only took her a few seconds to realize his even breathing meant that he’d fallen asleep.

  Clarissa couldn’t help but giggle. She curled up next to him and put her head on his shoulder. They needed to talk about their relationship in the morning, because being with him tonight let her know she wanted him in her life—permanently.

  Chapter 9

  It was still dark outside when Clarissa woke up the next morning. Andrew was still beside her, snoring lightly. Sometime during the night they’d moved under the covers. She’d never spent the night with a person before, going to sleep with them and waking up again. She loved the feeling of his body next to hers, feeling his heat, feeling the hardness of his chest and arms.

  Arousal built inside her and she ran her hand over his chest. “You trying to start something, Duchess?”

  “If you have to ask then I’m doing something wrong,” she said. “Of course, this is new to me. I’ve never woken up next to a man before.”

  He sat up so fast that she tumbled away from him and almost fell off the bed. She giggled as he grabbed her and pulled her back into place.

  “Never?” he said.

  “You’re only the second man I’ve ever taken to my bed.” She snuggled against him since he’d laid back down and took her in his arms.

  “But he never stayed in bed with you?”

  “Never,” she said. “He told me it just wasn’t done. Truthfully, my parents never slept in the same room, either. Did yours?”

  “Yes,” he said. “And they still do. Theirs was a love match.”

  “My parents married for money,” she said. “They like each other. They might even love each other, but they’ve never really shown it. They are just comfortable with each other now. Mother told me I would be comfortable with Taylor, too. But that was before he died. His heart probably gave out on him because of guilt.”

  Andrew didn’t respond at first, and she wondered if he was angry with her for bringing up her late husband. “Have I made a mistake?” she asked.

  “Nothing you do is a mistake,” he said. “Why would you ask?”

  “Because I mentioned Taylor, and you got quiet.”

  “I was thinking about spending the rest of my life with you,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said. “Um, and, um, were you trying to think of something to say?”

  “Yes, I was.” He tightened his arms and she closed her eyes and waited for him to continue. When he didn’t she said, “And?”

  “It’s never a scenario in which I saw myself.”

  Clarissa was afraid to speak. If she did he might hear the disappointment in her voice, and that would not be a good thing. She could live with the fact that he wanted to be nothing more than a lover. Widows of the nobility did it all the time. They took lovers and lived on their own. She was strong enough to live on her own. Her man of affairs took care of payments and the like. And soon, she was sure, the queen would appoint another duke, and Clarissa would just go back to being a lady of quality.

  “But now, I could see myself waking up next to you every morning.”

  His words shocked her out of her thoughts. Finally she said, “What are you saying?”

  “That, in the near future, we might consider getting married,” he said.

  “You know I can’t marry without the queen’s permission.” She didn’t move from her spot, because she didn’t want to look at him. She was afraid he would see the absolute delight on her face.

  “If she strips you of your title I don’t care,” he said. “I always knew I would be the younger son who flittered about. I never expected to be a duke, baron, earl, any of those things. But the idea of you being Lady Clarissa Beaton rather stirs my soul.”

  There was silence again, and this time he broke it. “How do you feel about not being a duchess anymore?”

  “The title means nothing to me,” she said.

  “Then it’s official,” he said. “We’re more than a couple. I would ask you to marry me, but I know you have to talk to the queen first. I’d say you should do it sooner rather than later, but we have to get to the bottom of the whole Marks thing.”

  “I’m not sure how the queen will feel about the Marks thing, as you call it,” Clarissa said. “What could he be looking for? He’d waited a year and a half for it, which means it’s not something that he needs desperately.”

  “He sounded desperate in the maze,” Andrew said. “Whatever it is he wants it back. I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “About Marks?”

  “Not him exactly.” Andrew was silent for a few moments before he continued, “It might involve dragging your husband’s name through the mud.”

  “Drag away,” Clarissa said. “I have no loyalty to him any longer.”

  “Then we’ll ask questions at clubs, see who will admit to missing things after he was at their house. There is every chance someone will let something slip that will give us a clue as to what Marks is missing. If you ask the right questions, after someone has had a few drinks, they open up.

  “It would be nice if we could figure out who Marks was talking to, the man who went through your house in Bath, and in London.”

  Clarissa thought about it for a few moments. “I think the best way to do that would
be to question my staff. I can be, shall we say, stern if I want to be. I will start with the staff in Bath when I return home today to supervise what needs to be moved to London. Then, I will do the same in London when I arrive. And if the staff in Bath tells the staff in London, there will be hell to pay.”

  “I love it when you talk naughty,” he said with a laugh. She joined in his laughter and they kissed, but it broke apart when the doorknob jiggled, as if someone was trying to get inside the room.

  “Stay here,” Andrew said as he jumped from the bed. He grabbed his pants and hurriedly put them on before he went to the door and opened it. “There’s no one here.”

  Clarissa watched as he bent and picked up something that was on the floor.

  “It’s a note, addressed to you,” he said.

  After he’d shut the door, Clarissa got up and put on her robe. She took the note from him and watched while he went around the room and lit candles and turned up the two gas lamps.

  Once she was seated in a chair, Clarissa opened the note. It was short and to the point. “It’s from Belinda. She says she has several items she will return to me as soon as the home on Park Lane is open.”

  “Does she say what they are?” Andrew asked.

  “No, but she is very snippy about it,” Clarissa said. “Listen to this. No matter what that so called spiritualist said, Taylor loved me, and he wanted me to have the things he gave me. However since she made people believe that he was putting pressure on me I will return them.”

  “I can’t wait to see what she brings,” Clarissa said.

  “If she follows through on her promise,” Andrew said. “This might be a ruse on her part. And… there is every chance she knows about Marks, and about what Taylor took from him. When we get to London you need to send her a message and tell her we need to talk when she returns your stolen items. Make sure you use the word stolen. Imply that if she doesn’t come you will be contacting Scotland Yard.”

  Clarissa liked that idea, but it was a different word in that speech that caught her attention.

  “Did you say when we get to London?”

  “Yes, I did,” he said as there was another sound in the hallway. “The house is waking up. Your maid will be here soon to pack your things. I will go see my man and tell him we will be going to Bath with you. I won’t harm your reputation by staying at the house with you, but I will be there as long as you are. And, after that, we will travel to London together and get to the bottom of things.”

  “And get married after?”

  “With or without the queen’s permission,” he said. “But something tells me she will let you out of your title. She likes my family.”

  Clarissa smiled. “You need to go. Sally will be here soon, and I don’t want her to find out this way. I prefer to tell her about the changes in my life.”

  “I understand.” He pulled her to her feet and then kissed her. “I will see you soon, my sweet.”

  “I look forward to when those words come true.”

  * * *

  Her trip to Bath had been a whirlwind of activity, but not one member of the staff owned up to knowing anything about someone breaking into the house, or being let into the house to search for any stolen property.

  She made a point to ask them about hidden rooms, or things her late husband had left there that might have been boxed up and put into the attic. Everyone assured her there was nothing. She believed them. They were loyal to her, and had been with her even before the wedding.

  It was the staff that worked at the Park Lane home that she worried about. That home had been Taylor’s before their wedding, and the people who worked there were not exactly in love with her. When they learned there would soon be a new master in the house she was sure there would be a few of them who would be less than thrilled.

  Now, as they headed toward London, she told Andrew she had sent a message to Belinda to meet her in two days’ time at the Park Lane home.

  “I’m going to question her,” Clarissa said. “I want the staff to hear it, and I’m going to mention charges, and Newgate. I think it will push someone to open up… if what happens today doesn’t work.”

  “You have no faith in my plan?” Andrew put his hands over his heart and said, “I’m going to die. Here I thought me a genius for coming up with it.”

  Clarissa laughed and slapped at his hands. “It is a good plan, but do you think your friend’s servants will be able to engage the Park Lane workers enough to drag information out of them, in a few hours?”

  “Obviously, I do,” he said. “Shall we make a wager on it?”

  Clarissa lifted one eyebrow and smirked at him. The look was one her father had taught her to do when she was a youngster. He had her use it on her mother when she would question Clarissa about her attitude, or why the tutor said Clarissa was not getting good marks on her work. Her mother hated it, but her father thought it was hilarious.

  The look on Andrew’s face was one of complete shock. “What is that?”

  “That is my look to let you know I don’t believe a word you’re saying.”

  “You wound me,” he said. “I guess the wager is off the table, then.”

  “On the contrary, I will enjoy having you at my mercy when nothing comes of your scheme.” She shrugged her slipper off her foot and ran her toes up his calf. If she had more nerve she would sit next to him and put her hands between his legs. The last time they had been together was that morning at the Stanhope’s party.

  The Bath household had been in an uproar packing boxes and furniture for her move, and there was no way they could have found time to be alone together. But it was the two wagons that followed them right now that had brought up his idea on how to try and speak with the servants without questioning them.

  “We use servants from the Essex and Ellington household,” he’d suggested. “They can help move the boxes and the furniture. You, me, and your man of affairs will supervise. The additional workers will act as if they have been hired for the day, and they will talk down about you. That might open a few mouths.”

  She thought he might be right, but she wasn’t exactly positive about it. She knew the staff didn’t really know her, and they’d had the run of the house for the year and a half since Taylor’s death. Some of them might resent having her there; or, hopefully, they would transfer their loyalty from her last husband to her. She hoped for the latter. But if that didn’t happen…

  “You have a wager,” she said.

  “What are the stakes?” he asked as he captured her foot between his calves. He squeezed and she wanted to forget every sense of propriety, lift her skirts and sit on what would, hopefully, be his hardness.

  “Something sexual, I’m sure,” she said. “We will set those later. I will trust you not to make it something too out of the ordinary.”

  “If you think that, my darling, then you don’t know me at all.”

  Clarissa pulled her foot from his grasp and knelt in front of him. It was something she’d never thought to do before, but right now she felt emboldened, ready to take on her new role. If part of that was as seductress then so be it.

  Without thinking of the consequences of her actions she put her face between his legs, her face right on his crotch, and rubbed.

  “Oh holy fuck, Clarissa,” he said. He tried to pull her away but she stayed where she was. She could feel him hardening under her touch, and she loved the idea that she had such an impact on him.

  “Your manhood is hard,” she said after she’d lifted her head. “Are you thinking about sex?” She lowered it again and shook her head from side to side.

  “Vixen! Stop this instant unless you want me to bend you over and take you right here.”

  “And risk being arrested for lewd behavior?” She was sitting back on her knees now, looking up at him. “If you did that you wouldn’t be able to collect if you won the bet.”

  She sat back in her seat and smoothed down her skirts.

  “I will get you for t
his,” he said. “Mark my words, at some point I will arouse you and leave you without completion.”

  Clarissa yawned. She put her hand in front of her face to hide her smile. “Finish it, then.” She flicked her hands in his direction as if to say she didn’t care what he did. “I know men do that, you know. I mean use their hands to stroke themselves. It might be quite entertaining to watch.”

  “You are a vixen,” he said. She watched as he undid the first few buttons of his trousers. She’d intended to tease him, make him want to have sex with her in the carriage. But she hadn’t expected him to take out his manhood and—a yell from outside made them both look up.

  “Your Grace, thieves!”

  Andrew launched himself at her as the driver’s words filled the carriage. He threw her to the floor and covered her with his body. “Stay down! Do you understand?”

  Clarissa nodded, her body shaking with fear as she imagined what was happening outside.

  “Whatever you do, stay quiet,” Andrew said.

  The door to the carriage jerked open and a man ordered them out.

  “No!” Andrew said. “I’ll give you the money I have, and you can take it and be gone.”

  Fear shook her body, but Andrew stayed on top of her, shielding her from the man who stood in the center of the open door.

  “You will do as I say or I am prepared to kill you both,” the man said.

  “Andrew,” she managed to say. But she couldn’t think of a thing to say afterward.

  “Clarissa, I will protect you,” he said. “I swear it.”

  “I trust you,” she said.

  “Out!” the man yelled.

  Andrew scrambled over her, exited the carriage and then helped her out. Even though her feet were on the ground, Clarissa still felt as if she might faint. Andrew put his arm around her waist and held her close.

  “Take the money, just take it and leave us.”

  “We’re taking it all,” the man said. “Every carriage is going with us. If you resist you will all be dead. Now, Your Grace, tell the men driving these rigs to get down and not resist. If I need to kill one of them to demonstrate my resolve I will do so.”

 

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