by Robyn DeHart
He retrieved it for her, then turned around so she could slip it on.
“I know you think I’m being a goose, but I haven’t quite accepted the idea of someone seeing me without my clothes on.”
He nodded, then climbed back onto the bed. “Eat. I think for our honeymoon, we’ll go into the country for a few days. How does that sound?”
“What about the paper?”
“Mason can handle things while I’m gone.”
She eyed her plate and the figs and bread lying there. She wasn’t accustomed to eating in front of men either. Her father had once told her that a woman who ate as much as she did was disgusting. Women should eat tiny portions. So she’d resigned herself to rising earlier than he and eating breakfast before he came downstairs. The other meals she’d taken in her room or at Poppy’s. And she never ate refreshments at soirees or parties.
But Derrick wasn’t looking at her plate. Instead he focused out the window. He seemed distracted.
“Speaking of the paper”—he turned to face her again—“you can reveal your identity now. It’s your choice. The mystery has served you well. But you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide now.”
“I don’t know if that would be a good idea.”
He eyed her for a few minutes more. “Unless you want me to strip that shift off you and make love to you right now, I suggest you pack your things for a weekend in the country.”
It was a tempting thought, but with the light flooding the room, it was out of the question.
“Be off with you then, so I may dress properly, and we can be on our way.”
He leaned over her plate and gave her a sultry kiss. “Very well, I shall have the carriage ready.”
Derrick stared at Mason. “Are you positive?”
“Yes, sir. I saw it with my own eyes. I walked right past his house on the way to work. They were carrying out a body. I can only assume it was him. There was blood all over the sheet.”
First Baubie’s suspicion that Claudia’s father had murdered someone, and now Richard turned up dead. Or supposedly dead. What didn’t fit was why Lord Kennington would kill Richard. The answer probably lay in those letters Baubie had brought him.
They sat in his coat pocket even now, waiting to be read. He would have taken time to read them this morning, but he’d wanted to ensure the paper was properly cared for before he took Claudia to the country.
“Do you have any idea who did it?” Mason asked, then without waiting for an answer, he added, “or do you suppose he offed himself?”
“I have a suspicion. And I don’t believe he did it himself. Richard was far too vain to kill himself. Not to mention too stupid.”
“Are you going to tell your new bride? She knew him, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she knew him. I don’t know if I’ll tell her. She has a right to know, but I want to confirm it was Richard before I tell her. Send Blakey down to see if he can’t get some information for us.”
Blakey had been a wood carver for Derrick since he’d opened the paper. He was the largest man at the paper, possibly in all of London, and he often worked for extra money helping Derrick investigate when the necessity arose. His size alone usually made even the most secretive person spill his secrets. But on occasion he used money to buy the information.
“Mason, I’m going to take Claudia into the country for the weekend. Have a honeymoon of sorts. Can you take care of things here?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you. Send me a post whenever Blakey gets back. With or without news, I want to be informed. I’ll be within riding distance if there are any problems.”
“Yes, sir.” Mason turned to leave, then paused. “Oh and Mr. Middleton, despite the current situation, enjoy your honeymoon and your new bride.”
Derrick waited until Mason had disappeared before pulling out the stack of letters and tossing them onto his desk. He picked up one and fingered the envelope, then stood and walked to the window. Whatever lay in these letters had been the real story behind Chester Edwards’s suicide. The story he’d printed all those years ago had implicated a man on charges that he may or may not have been guilty of, and then that man had taken his own life.
Reading those letters, Derrick realized, might release him of all the guilt he’d felt for the last ten years. Or they might confirm he was partly at fault.
He looked back at the desk and eyed the tempting letters. Now another man was dead, and Claudia’s father might be at fault.
Walking back to his desk, he picked up the first letter and unfolded it. Burned paper flaked off the edges, and the smell of smoke lingered on the parchment.
One letter after another, the story became more and more clear. Ten years ago the Conservatives had been in the majority, and Kennington had been the chancellor of finance, the man in charge of all the queen’s finances, including the patent office. Claudia’s father had blackmailed the patent officer, Edwards, into skimming funds. Somehow Kennington had discovered the truth of a rather sensitive situation with Edwards’s daughter. He’d threatened to go public, threatened to ruin her reputation and with it any real chance of her to secure a reputable marriage. Then when he’d tired of the man, or more likely when Edwards threatened to go public with the truth, Kennington had beat him to it by having Richard sell the false story to Derrick.
A story where Kennington had blamed the embezzled funds completely on Edwards. Apparently Edwards hadn’t been strong enough to fight Kennington. He’d died, taking the full blame for a scheme much larger than himself, all to protect his daughter’s virtue.
How had Derrick been so blind to the connection? Surely there had been clues. He should have realized all this once he discovered Richard’s connection with Claudia’s father. He’d known there had to have been someone pulling Richard’s strings like a puppet. Kennington.
It must have been easy for Kennington to get his snares in Richard at the time. He’d been starved for power and wealth. Richard had probably banked on Kennington’s status aiding him in advancing politically.
Everything made sense now. Everything was more complicated now. How was Derrick supposed to explain to his wife that her father was the man responsible for all these crimes?
He couldn’t. She wouldn’t believe him. Her loyalty to her father was too strong. Derrick needed to wait until he knew Claudia’s loyalty to him was secure. To see her father for what he was, she needed some distance. But before she could do that, she needed to learn to trust herself.
Taking Claudia to the country to keep her mind off her father and on her new husband was the only solution. Teaching her to trust him would be easy, Derrick realized. It was teaching her to trust herself that would prove his greatest challenge.
She’d had it practically beaten into her that she was always wrong, no matter the circumstances.
She needed to let herself go, to give in to her feelings and her desires. Once she learned to do that, she would learn to trust herself.
Then he could risk sharing the truth about her father.
Chapter 15
Two hours later Claudia found herself in the carriage on the way to Derrick’s country estate. She had packed as quickly as she could, eager to see her new home. She’d only seen the house from a distance the day they rode, but if it was in as good shape as the stable, it would be a palace.
“We need to have a conversation about the kind of wife I expect you to be.”
Married less than two days, and she’d already done something wrong. Why else would he bring this up?
“I realize you were raised to believe that wives are supposed to behave in a certain fashion.”
“Yes. My mother taught me a lot before she died, and my father continued that education as much as he was able.”
“I want you to forget everything they told you. This is our marriage, and we’ll live it the way we choose.”
“But—”
“I know what kind of wife they instructed you to be, and that’s not what I want. Mousy, quiet
, and without opinions are traits that do not suit you. You’re a passionate woman, and I expect to see that fire.” He met her gaze. “In the bedroom and out.”
“But what if we disagree about something?”
“Then we shall argue about it.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think arguing solves anything.”
“Perhaps not, but after the argument comes the making up, and that is what I’ll look forward to.” He winked at her. “Perhaps I’ll even start arguments for that very reason.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He just sat there grinning at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re really quite beautiful. I hadn’t thought so at first.”
She frowned. “I’m not certain that was a compliment,” she said.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I always knew you were an attractive woman, but you’re more beautiful than I’d first realized.”
She knew her mouth hung open, and she tried to close it, but couldn’t. So instead she dug for something clever to say. “You no longer have to court me to gain my favor. I’m your wife. You can cease your silly compliments. Frankly, you were never very good at them.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “Indeed? I seem to recall my wretched excuse for poetry being quite effective that day in the garden.”
It had in fact been quite effective. Enough to lure her into that first kiss.
“It’s rather unfair,” he said. “The entire courting situation. Women do nothing save look pretty, and men must put forth all the effort.”
“Until there is a wedding, and then the women do the work for the rest of their lives.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That might be true. But only partially. Courting is difficult.”
“How would you know? You were only pretending to court me.” The truth of that still stung, but she hoped that joking about it would lessen the pain.
“Touché.” He placed a kiss on her hand. “I did give it my full attention. My intentions were not entirely noble, but I never intended to hurt you, and I meant everything I said to you.”
“I might be persuaded to believe that. But I will have to deliberate about it further.”
“Fair enough. In the meantime, why don’t you give it a try.”
“What?”
“Courting. Let’s see how you would do if the shoe were on the other foot. How would you lure me in, get me interested in you?”
She shrugged. “That’s a silly game.”
“But it will be fun. Or do you not think you can do it?”
Two weeks ago, she would have faltered under such a request, but she was a different woman now. Stronger, not necessarily bold, but bolder than she’d ever been in her life. Trying her hand at courting might be fun. She’d often daydreamed about the perfect courtship.
“Very well, but no laughing at me.”
“I promise.”
“I suppose I would tell you that I find you very handsome.”
He nodded. Giving her no indication as to whether that would win him over.
“In particular your eyes. Intense and haunting, eyes that keep me up at night, eyes that feel as if they can peer into my very soul. Sometimes with merely a glance you send shivers dancing across my skin.”
He folded his arms across his chest, and his face settled into an expression that very much resembled a cat who’d devoured a mouse.
“There are other aspects of your appearance that I find attractive, but one must not strictly focus on the physical attributes. I find you intelligent and respect the way you run your business. Your dedication to bringing news to those who typically cannot afford newspapers is quite noble. It is one of the reasons I accepted the position. When I saw the advertisement, I knew I must apply. I never dreamed you would hire me, but figured I stood a better chance if you and everyone else thought I was a man.”
He gave her a smile.
Her heart flipped in her chest. “Gracious, and that smile. I hate to admit how you affect me. It’s not like me to be so bold.”
“Come here.” He leaned across the carriage and pulled her across his lap. “You be as bold as you like. You affect me, too.”
He pulled her face to his and kissed her, his mouth slanting across hers in a full assault on her defenses. She opened to him and swept her tongue against his. She’d never tire of kissing him.
“I want you now,” he said.
His hands slid under her skirts, and he found her through the slit in her drawers. His finger entered her, and she released a moan into his mouth. He moved his finger within her, until she could feel the moisture between her legs. All the while, he continued his assault with his mouth. He nipped and licked, until she could no longer focus on anything but the feelings he created. Then he withdrew and began undoing his pants.
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We’re in a carriage?”
“We’re married, and we can do this anytime we like. Anyplace we want. Even in a carriage. Besides, no one can see us. Trust me.” His eyes bored into her, and she realized she did. Despite his not being completely honest with her in the beginning. He’d promised they’d have a truthful marriage, and she believed him. She completely trusted him.
He finished removing enough of his clothing so that his member sprang up between them. She hadn’t seen it the night before, and now that she had, she was amazed it had fit inside her.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
She could have lied. Averted her eyes and said nothing, but he’d said he liked her to be bold. And truth be told, she liked being bold. It was exhila-rating. So she swallowed her nerves, looked him right in the eyes, and answered.
“Your body.”
“What about my body?”
“I’m puzzled by how everything works. How we fit.”
“We’re a perfect fit,” he said, then he lowered her hips down until she felt the tip of him enter her. Then he stopped.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing. I want you to be in charge.”
“I can’t. I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. You simply do what feels right.”
“But what about you?”
“Whatever you do will feel good to me.”
He held eye contact while she slowly lowered herself on him. He filled her, and the discomfort was there again, but only in the background. She stayed still to let her body adjust to the invasion, all the while looking at him. It was shockingly intimate to look him in the eyes while his body was joined with her. Almost overwhelmingly so. She felt tears pull at her eyes, so she closed them and began to move.
Tentative at first, she rocked slowly, until her body hit a rhythm. She moved her hips forward, loving the feel of him buried inside her.
“Look at me, Claudia.”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze, but stopped her movement. His brown eyes had darkened several shades, appearing almost black now.
“I wanted to watch you last night.” He picked up her hips and moved her up and down a few times. Pleasure etched his features. “I love the feel of you.”
She wanted to close her eyes again, or lean into him, so that he couldn’t see her. But she enjoyed watching him. The intensity in his eyes touched her deep inside. He was a man of great feeling; she could see that now. Perhaps he could grow to love her.
“Move, Claudia.”
She chewed on her lip.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I want to watch you.”
He reached into the bodice of her dress and cupped her breast. She arched against him and began her movement again. A slow, steady rhythm.
He rolled her nipple between his fingers, and she cried out.
“That’s it. Just let go of your mind and feel. Do you like this?” He cupped her breast again.
She nodded, unable to say anything
.
“I want to see your breasts.” He unbuttoned the front of her dress, and the material sagged, revealing her corset and chemise.
It took some maneuvering, but he managed to loosen the material enough so he could release her breasts from their confines.
“Beautiful.” He leaned in and brought a nipple into his mouth and suckled hard.
She bucked against him, trying to reach release. While he kissed her breast, his hand reached beneath her skirts and found the sensitive nub. He rubbed it gently, moving in a slow circle.
“You’re almost there; can you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t hold back, Claudia. Ride as hard as you like.”
She did as she was told and increased her movements. Faster and faster, harder and harder. She threw her head back and moaned loudly.
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
And just when the waves of pleasure hit her, she felt him spill into her, and he cried out her name. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw as he continued to shudder.
She leaned into him. She kissed him softly on the neck and then the chin.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
“I never knew.”
He chuckled. “That you’re amazing?”
“No. That this could be pleasurable.”
“It would be quite unfair were it only pleasurable for men. Considering the women actually go through childbirth.”
She smiled. He had such a unique way of looking at things. She inhaled his scent, earthy and male mixed with the musky smell of their lovemaking.
“We’ll be at the house soon.” His voice rumbled against her. “I hope you like it.”
“I know I will.”
Chapter 16
“So that was the grand tour.” Derrick led her into the front parlor, which was richly decorated in burgundy and gold. It had always been one of his favorite rooms. It was so warm. Shortly after he’d bought the house, he’d decided that should he ever marry again and have a family, this would be the room where they would celebrate Christmas. He sat next to her on the settee, then leaned back. “What do you think?”
