Basil and Daphne stood cautiously in the doorway. Daphne had one hand pressed to her throat and her eyes were very wide. With disappointment? Indeed, Basil had nearly inherited—again.
“Chamaeleo bitaeniatus,” Willa murmured, staring at Daphne. “The chameleon.”
“Is it over?” Basil called out.
“Yes, Basil. It is now safe for you to go to the country,” Nathaniel replied wearily.
Basil shuffled Daphne into their waiting carriage. Nathaniel stood on the steps with his arm around Willa and watched them load their possessions and drive off. “I hope they have not made a mistake,” he said absently.
She looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Well, they wed so quickly after my engagement to Daphne was dissolved. You know what they say: ‘Marry in haste, repent in leisure.’”
“Do they? Do they say that?” Her voice went faint, and she paled a bit.
“Wildflower, what is it?”
She shook her head and handed him back his handkerchief. “Nothing. I’m afraid I get a bit damp at shootings.”
She put her arms around him and pressed her face to his shoulder. Nathaniel wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think it was an amorous hug. He held her close to his side, then bent to nuzzle her hair, willing to hold her as long as she needed. When she finally let go and stood back, her color was better and she was able to smile.
“Thank you. I needed that.” Then she grimaced at his stained shirtfront. “I think you ought to take that off,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Shall we go upstairs?”
What a wonderful idea. Nathaniel ran for his room and a clean shirt and weskit. Wadsworth wasn’t invited. When Nathaniel left his chamber, he was surprised to see Willa waiting for him in the hall. Then she waved her fingers at him, turned, and danced away down the hall.
“Where are you going?”
She turned, walking backward. “I feel the need to read.” Giving him a saucy grin, she turned right way around and made for the stairs.
Nathaniel didn’t catch up to her for two floors. Then he grabbed her hand and towed her through the house, passing startled servants and indifferent statuary until they reached the library.
28
Thrusting Willa into the room, Nathaniel turned to lock them in. He felt her come up from behind and press to his back. She slid her hands around his waist and down. Groaning, he let his head fall until his brow touched the door, taking her caresses for as long as he could stand it.
Then he whirled, picked her up, making her shriek slightly in surprise, and sat down in an enormous chair that stood before the fire. He settled her into his lap with her feet dangling down one side.
“I’ve had plans for this chair,” he said.
“You have?” Then she gasped, for he had found her nipple through her bodice. “Oh!” He’d found the other nipple. “Really?”
Her voice had gone breathy, and she was beginning to squirm on him. God, he loved the way Willa could squirm.
He let go of her lovely nipples and slid his hand down her dress to the hem. Then he burrowed beneath to find her stocking-encased calves. He followed them up to her bare thighs, then continued to her naked junction. He pressed his palm to her, feeling it become kissed by her wetness.
“No drawers. Naughty Willa,” he whispered in her ear. “Such a wanton thing you are.”
She waited, barely breathing. He could feel her quivering already under his still hand. He rotated it a little, pressing and rubbing, until her head fell back across his other arm.
Then he stroked a fingertip over her sensitive nub, and savored the way she shuddered. His erection was pressed tightly to her hip, and every tiny movement she made against him was a caress.
He took the little button between two fingertips and rolled it gently, making sure his touch was slippery with her nectar. She was ready for him already, swollen and wet.
He took his hand away and pulled his arm from under her dress. She whimpered with loss. “Don’t worry. We aren’t done. But right now I want to see you.”
“What?” She blinked at him, blurry with lust. She was adorable.
“I want to see my naughty wife without her drawers.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.
“Yes. I want you to stand before me, and pull up your dress, and show yourself to me.”
She bit her lip and shook her head again.
Nathaniel wondered if he had pushed her too far.
“Show me yours first,” she demanded.
He had to laugh. She was so unsinkable. “Very well. At the same time then?”
“No. You first.” Then she slid her eyes to his and smirked. “I have plans for this chair, as well.”
She hopped off his lap and stood before him, looking surprisingly unruffled for a woman who had just been squirming with lust. “Well, come on then. I want to see.” She folded her arms and waited.
This was not going as planned. In fact, Nathaniel wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Oh, very well, I’ll do it myself.” And she knelt between his knees and undid his buttons with staggering speed. She looked up at him. “You’re not wearing any drawers, either.”
“I never do.”
Her eyes darkened a bit, then she finished her task and freed him into her hands. She caressed him gently, and Nathaniel gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles whitened. “Willa, you are going to make me embarrass myself.”
“How so?” Her attention was on his erection, which was growing still harder in her hands.
His teeth gritted. “If I explode in your hands, it will be embarrassing.”
She grinned wickedly at him. “You did it to me this morning. Turnabout is fair play.” She gripped him more tightly, and he threw his head back, clenching his eyes shut as he fought for control.
Willa liked touching him. She had not yet truly had the opportunity to explore their differences. As she knelt before him, stroking his length, she was fascinated by the hardness of steel wrapped with satin skin. The point of it was large and swiftly turning dark. She examined beneath and discovered an intriguing vein.
Impulsively she bent and kissed it. His broken gasp of pleasure echoed in the room.
Fascinating. If he responded like that to a kiss …
She took the head of his shaft into her mouth.
Her name came from him on a tight whisper. His hand came up to caress her hair, but she placed it back on the chair without losing her mouthful of him. She wanted no distractions right now.
With great deliberation, she rolled her tongue over him, tasting a bit of salt. The texture of him was lovely on her tongue, like the smoothness of a stick of candy. She pulled away and licked up the side of him, then down the other side.
He quivered, and she heard the snap of thread where his fingers dug into the upholstery. She laughed in gentle triumph against his shaft. How gratifying.
Perhaps if she could combine the two sensations …
He was very large, but if she dropped her jaw just so, and fed him into her mouth slowly …
Nathaniel couldn’t stand it. She was performing something he had only dreamed of her doing in his darkest fantasies. The fact that she was willing to was humbling, and he would be sure to ponder that someday when he had some blood left in his brain.
At the moment, all he could feel was the hot suction of her mouth and the wicked action of her tongue. Devastating. She sucked him as deeply as she could, then released him slowly while flicking her tongue along the underside of him.
He shouldn’t let it go much further, for he was fast approaching the brink. Still, just for a moment more …
Then he knew it must stop, and he let go of his grip on the chair to lift her away from him—
And her hands came down on top of his, pinning them to his side, and she sucked on him forcefully.
And it was too late.
With a helpless groan, he exploded into her mouth. She made a small sound of surprise bu
t did not pull away. Instead, she wrapped her lips tightly around him and allowed him to release inside her mouth. He was so sensitized that he could feel it when she swallowed.
Then, when he was spent and shaking, she raised her head, wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and grinned.
“Turnabout is fair play.”
Oh, dear God, how he loved this woman.
Standing in the hall upstairs, Ren turned back into his room, away from the loving race that had just passed him by without notice.
She was so clearly Reardon’s. Her mad love for the man hurt Ren, but he couldn’t figure out why.
All he knew was that he didn’t want to stay here, watching her heart fall further and further in love. He leaned against his closed door and rubbed his chest with one hand. “Heal, damn it,” he ordered.
Whether he was talking to his lungs or to his heart he truly couldn’t bear to say.
Nathaniel Stonewell, Lord Reardon, was in love.
And he was going to tell her so, as soon as he caught his breath—
A knock sounded on the library door. They both jumped guiltily, then laughed.
“My lord?” Hammil called. “You have a guest!” Hammil sounded breathless with excitement.
Probably Lord Liverpool returning, to create such a fervor in a snarky stick like Hammil. Possibly bad news from Foster’s interrogation? “Thank you, Hammil,” he called back. “I’ll see to him in just a moment.” He turned to Willa. “I’m sorry, wildflower. I have to go.”
“But what about your plans for the chair?”
Nathaniel looked longingly at the chair, then pulled her close. “I’ll tell you my plans, and you can enlarge upon them with your own.”
Then he whispered into her ear until she gasped, then blushed, then sighed.
“Oh, you are a very wicked fellow, Nathaniel Stonewell.”
He hated to leave her, but he kissed her hard, then went to face what surely was not going to be pleasant.
Then he entered the first parlor to find himself face-to-face with the Prince Regent.
Before him stood a burly figure clad head to toe in cream and peach satin. George was accompanied by a handful of Royal Guard, and Nathaniel suspected there were more currently covering all entrances to his house.
From behind him Nathaniel heard the light patter of feminine feet, rushing to the doorway. He turned around to see Victoria and Myrtle standing there gaping.
Victoria gasped and dropped into a deep curtsy, followed slowly by Myrtle, using her stick for balance. Nathaniel’s bow was deep, immediate, and brief. He stepped forward then. “Your Highness, I—”
A whirlwind in charcoal silk blew past him. “Georgie!”
Prince George opened his arms wide. “Willie!”
Nathaniel stood there, eyes wide, mouth open, as His Royal Highness wrapped both arms around Nathaniel’s bride-to-be and swung her gleefully off her feet.
“I think I’ll sit now, if no one minds,” Myrtle said faintly.
“Feel free,” George said over the top of Willa’s head. Then he took Willa’s shoulders in both hands and held her off for his inspection. “You’ve grown as pretty as your mother,” he said admiringly.
A bit too admiringly for Nathaniel’s taste. “Your Highness—”
George slid his gaze sideways to Nathaniel. “Stand down, Reardon. I’m not poaching. Willie is practically family.”
Victoria’s mouth was open, and she stared at Willa. “You? You are a close friend of the Prince Regent?”
Willa smiled. “Well, my mother was.”
I have a sort of uncle—rather half uncle, I suppose—here in London.
And he’d arranged to have her presented at Court in a borrowed dress? Nathaniel wasn’t angry. Stunned, and a little mystified, but not angry. Now that he saw them standing there arm in arm, it explained so much. As in how a simple country maid could confidently trot through London Society without a misstep of manners, nor even a smidgeon of intimidation by her betters. If she, in fact, had any betters. If he was not mistaken, there was a possible family resemblance there.
The Cobra within him went cold with the implications. Oh, dear God. Not another royal bastard?
Stiffly Nathaniel bowed again. “What is it we may do for you, Your Highness?”
George put Willa off and seated her gallantly, then took a chair of his own. “There has been a matter under investigation for some time, as I know you are aware. This was a most delicate matter, and security was a priority.” He looked around at them all, but Nathaniel knew he was the only one who realized what the Prince was talking about.
George looked at the others in the room. “I came to tell you all the real reason why Reardon was consorting with traitors and why he could not have done what he was accused of.”
Myrtle clapped a wrinkled hand to her chest. “Please go on, Your Highness. Tell the whole thing before I die.”
“Oh dear. We mustn’t have that.” George smiled. “Well, the short of the matter is, every last culprit in the attempted treason plot has been apprehended or killed, and we may now reveal the circumstances surrounding the entire affair.”
Victoria was white. She sat very still, staring over the prince’s head at nothing at all. It occurred to Nathaniel that no one seemed terribly thunderstruck by the revelations. He turned to Willa to find her quite calm, although she was smiling.
“I knew it wasn’t true.” She patted his hand. “And I knew there must be a good reason why you pretended it was.”
The Prince Regent bobbed his head in agreement. “Indeed, Willie. A very good reason. But now we may all revel in the truth. It has only been a few hours since we apprehended the last of the group responsible for the plot, and things are already in the works to clear your name, Reardon.
“To speed things along, I contacted several other prominent members of Society on your behalf. The story has been passed around town all afternoon. People are quite up in arms over what was done to you, I must say.”
Nathaniel watched Willa lean toward Myrtle. He thought he heard something that sounded like “Mrs. Trapp.”
The world would know. According to George, half of Society already knew. Only about Nathaniel’s infiltration of the spy ring—and nothing about the Royal Four. Things could go back to the way they had been before. Lord Treason is dead. Long live Lord Reardon.
Too late to renew his father’s respect. That loss would ache inside Nathaniel all the days of his life.
Yet he had Willa and a life with her without disgrace.
“Well, I dare not stay long,” George said, standing. Willa and Myrtle popped up as well. Nathaniel had never sat at all. “If I park my arse more than ten minutes in a private residence, every fool with a cause to lobby comes falling around my head.”
He bowed over Willa’s hand, then pulled her in for a kiss on the cheek. “Do come calling, sweeting. My Court could use a bit of life in it.”
Everyone bowed and curtsied to the floor, and when they arose, the Prince had left the room. Nathaniel followed George and his entourage to the door and watched as the Prince boarded his unmarked carriage and was driven away.
29
Nathaniel reentered the first parlor, tempted to grab Willa up and carry her back to the library for a bit of private revelry in the chair. All such amorous celebration was forgotten when he saw Myrtle standing before Victoria in challenge.
“You knew all along, didn’t you, Victoria? You’re not the slightest bit surprised by any of this.”
“Don’t be silly,” Victoria said shakily. “Of course, I—well, I am—well, you don’t seem particularly surprised, either.”
Myrtle waved a hand. “That’s because I eavesdropped on Thaniel and that rook Liverpool!” Then her eyes narrowed suddenly. “Randolph knew better as well, didn’t he?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course he didn’t.” Victoria’s head was high, her expression indignant, but she was lying. Nathaniel knew it. A prickle began in the vicinity of his
chest.
Myrtle held up one hand. “Victoria, there is no reason anymore to tell anything but the absolute truth, unless you are determined to be purposely cruel.”
Victoria snarled. “I, cruel? I? Do you know that three weeks after I gave in to Randolph’s importuning to wed, my late husband’s elder brother died and my son became Lord Reardon? Three weeks!” She glared at them all. “I missed finally being ‘Lady Reardon’ by three miserable weeks!”
Myrtle scoffed. “And that was Randolph’s fault, I take it?”
“Of course it was,” Victoria snapped. “He robbed me of being one of the pivots of the ton! With that title and Nathaniel’s money, I could have had everything!”
“Poor Randolph,” Willa said quietly.
“Indeed,” Nathaniel said.
Myrtle raised her cane at Victoria. “Are you telling me that you punished my poor boy for thirty years because he wed you three weeks too soon?”
Victoria cast her gaze around the room, obviously looking for support. Her glance fell on Willa. “You think me shallow and ambitious. I can see it in your face. Just you wait, Lady Reardon!” The words burst from her like a flood held back too long. “Soon you’ll realize that a woman has nothing, no standing in the world, but what her husband brings her and what he takes away! Once you tie yourself to a man, you are a mere reflection of him. You think he will give you your dreams, but he won’t care. Men—only concerned with their own interests, their own pleasures! When the first blush of romance wears off, you’ll be nothing to him, just as I became nothing to Thomas, and then less than nothing to Randolph.”
“My nephew never mistreated you,” Myrtle said stoutly.
“Mistreated me?” Victoria laughed, a cold, jagged noise. “No, he never beat me, never even berated me. What he did was so much worse. What he did was declare me invisible. Even when his illness struck … I thought, Thank God, he needs me at last—but he didn’t. He shut me out still, keeping to himself in his study, in his rooms, keeping everyone away, muttering to himself all the time—I began to fear that he’d gone mad, but the physician said that it was an effect of the tonic Randolph took, that he spoke under his breath, that he couldn’t seem to control his words.”
Celeste Bradley - [Royal Four 01] Page 29
