by Heather Boyd
She closed her eyes and inhaled. He smelled so good. Clean, like a new forest after rain. Slowly, Lynton turned her in his arms and he eased her against him. “I should apologize, but I won’t.”
Estella opened her eyes to find Lynton smiling at her, a little, knowing smile that lifted the corners of his mouth and fixed her attention on his lips. The slow burn of desire sped up. As his hands stole over her back, she willed them lower. Unfortunately, he didn’t comply. But he pulled her against him.
The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her belly, and her lips lifted in a smile. “Are you attempting to seduce me, Lynton?”
His lips pursed. “If that were my intention, I’d be under your skirts already. But I won’t do that until you consent to be my wife. I dishonored you once, Essy. A regret I have harbored all my life.”
Estella drew back. “You regret me?”
His hand swept down her back and over her bottom. “I regret not fighting harder to win you from Carrington before you married him. I regret not making love to you openly that night. And I especially regret not courting you the minute Carrington’s body was cold in the ground. I feel like I’ve missed your whole life.”
Manning’s hands kneaded her bottom and Estella shuddered. “My life isn’t over yet.”
He grinned suddenly, his hands stilled. “No. But since you haven’t consented to share the rest with me, I may still miss out. Marry me, Essy. You may scold me and make me earn my place at your side, but do not send me away.” His hands moved again, curling her tighter against him, raising one of her legs in the process. “Not when we can feel like this together.”
Lynton kissed her suddenly. Estella moaned and opened her mouth to him. A hot rush of sensation gripped her as they wrestled to touch any part of each other they could. She teased his tongue until he growled at her, and gave up the fight against him and her desires. She did want him in her life and in her bed.
She had been very good at lying to herself.
He ground his hips against her as they kissed until Estella thought she’d go mad. Poor Thomas had never made her feel like this, not even on his most amorous day. She drew back, gentling Lynton with her fingers over his lips. He kissed them, then drew them into his mouth and sucked. The unexpected suction drew her senses higher. He circled his hips against her. Her body tightened unexpectedly. She shook. She gasped. She buried her face at Lynton’s throat to hide her embarrassment.
He forced her gaze back to his. He smiled like the devil himself. “Good to see I haven’t lost my touch.”
Although still astonished, she smiled back and curled her arms about his neck. “Gracious. How did you?”
“Not quite the saint you thought me.” He laughed suddenly. “Believe me, I have years of fantasies to prove with you. Marry me so I may seduce you properly.”
He kissed her flaming cheeks gently while Estella struggled to think. If he could do that and not think of it as a seduction, she was in terrible straights if he did. She stared across the room blindly as his kisses progressed to her neck.
Clearly, he’d employed the last few years wisely, not perhaps as saintly as one would expect. She dropped one arm down his back until she reached his hip, and since there was space between their bodies, she laid her hand over his impressive erection.
Lynton hissed. “That was a ‘yes’ to marriage, Essy. Don’t think I won’t hold you to it.”
Estella met his gaze as she moved her hand. Lynton shuddered and swept her to a couch. She cupped his face between her hands as he hovered over her. “Oh, yes.”
~ * ~
Agatha opened her eyes for the third time to see the same sagging ceiling suspended above her. She had so hoped this was a dream, not a nightmare come to life. But judging from the coarse sounds filtering into the room, she was in a house of ill repute somewhere. The masculine groans and the banging of a bed frame against the wall behind her head reminded her, once again, that she was unable to get free.
She tested the bonds that held her hands and feet in place again. They didn’t give her the slightest hope of a successful escape, yet if she called out and assistance arrived, she might be in more trouble. They’d taken her gown and she lay clothed only in a thin chemise. The position they held her in should excite any man with a heartbeat who should walk through the door.
She lifted her head to see the closed door. So far, she’d seen no one but her two abductors. She didn’t remember anything after the carriage pulled up in the lane. She didn’t remember this house or being stripped of her black gown and corset. She desperately hoped that the door was locked.
She lay back down. There was nothing to be gained by panicking. Nothing could change until that door opened and either savior or sinner passed the threshold. She desperately wanted Oscar to walk through that door.
Footsteps approached, and keys rattled in a lock. Agatha raised her head to see who came near. It was a woman she didn’t recognize, but guessed to be the abbess of this crumbling establishment. The woman who’d hired thugs to abduct her was a well-dressed older lady, a woman who could walk on the street and be called elegant. She shut the door behind her and came closer. “You’re awake at last.”
Agatha nodded carefully, mindful of her aching head.
“Good. Tell me your name.”
Agatha frowned and kept her mouth closed. Shouldn’t the abbess know who she was? Agatha had assumed the woman had abducted her. Was that not the case?
She looked around the room. Nothing in her line of vision gave her any clue to where she was except for the rhythmic thumping against the wall. The peeling paper was old and faded, as was the quilt beneath her body. The window was covered by fading drapes, so she couldn’t see the world outside or guess at the time of day. The house seemed old, possibly one in a poorer part of London. Yet this woman was stylishly turned out. She looked as if she’d just returned from a carriage ride during the fashionable hour with friends. But her gaze held no warmth. She seemed immune to Agatha’s helpless situation.
The woman frowned. “It is not like my friend to gift me with a girl with no logical explanation. I have a busy house to run, and should not like the inconvenience of dealing with irate family if you are not the fancyware you should be. Who is your father?”
Agatha kept her lips closed. If she answered honestly, she’d be signing her own downfall. There was no one legally bound to care for her now. Not even Oscar.
The abbess’ cold, dry hands skimmed over hers. “Soft. A lady of leisure?”
The woman inspected her exposed skin. Agatha suffered the indignity of the cold touch without response for as long as she could, but when the woman lifted her chemise to look beneath, she bucked to get away.
The abbess frowned. “If you’re clean, I can ask a higher price for your first gentlemen caller. There is many a man who would take one look at you as you are and demand a whole night in this bed.” The abbess tested the bonds at her ankles and hands. “It is not usually my way to resort to such precautions, but Prewie was adamant that you should not get away. I will have to ask for more particulars about you before we proceed.”
Prewie? Did she mean Lord Prewitt? But why would he bring her here. She had done nothing but turn aside his scandalous offer to share his bed. Why would he retaliate so cruelly like this?
The thumping against the wall ended with a harsh groan.
The abbess smiled. “Another satisfied customer. Do excuse me? I need to attend to my customer and see that his companion survived that onslaught.” She tapped her finger against her lips. “I will never understand why rakish gentlemen try to be good. It only leads to unnecessary frenzy in the bedchamber once they get there. Bad for business to always be replacing broken girls. Unfortunately, you all have a short working life. Make sure you enjoy what you can of it.”
The abbess glided out the door and locked her in again. Agatha thumped her head against the mattress in frustration. Prewitt? Did he do this because she would not accept his advances, or to av
enge himself against Oscar for failing to marry his sister-in-law as promised? Either way, it didn’t matter.
Oscar would never think to look for her here.
No one would.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
OSCAR GRIPPED REDDING’S coat and pulled him closer. “Are you sure this is the place?”
“Hands off my servant, boy,” Staines growled.
Redding escaped Oscar’s grip and grimaced. “Yes, unfortunately. My sources say she was brought here around midday. The two thugs who grabbed her are well known, well enough known to be avoided at all costs. They were paid by the abbess and are currently arse deep in rum down by the docks. That’s two less. But we have Mrs. Leyton’s footmen to contend with still. She does not employ small men.”
Staines straightened his footman’s coat. “How many inside?”
“Enough to be a problem. Two or three apiece.”
Staines winced. “We could mount a frontal assault.”
“And likely get you shot?” Redding laughed softly. “I don’t think so.”
The duke folded his arms across his chest and pouted. “I am not a magnet for stray bullets, Redding.”
“Despite all evidence to the contrary.” Redding chewed his lip, his eyes glued to the distant bawdy house. Staines couldn’t seem to let his servant get the last word and continued arguing.
This situation was worse than Oscar had feared. In a bawdy house, Agatha could be made to do many an unspeakable act, and no one would help her. They would turn a blind eye to her distress, or likely cheer some bloody scoundrel on. Oscar clenched his fists, fighting his growing frustration. Outnumbered or not, he was going to get Agatha out of that place. She must be terrified.
He glanced at the duke and considered what his chances were of getting past Redding to gag him. The duke and his footman had been bickering like this all afternoon. Although they were discussing and throwing out ways and means of rescuing Agatha, Oscar could not quite make up his mind how to take them. They behaved like an old married couple, which was ridiculous since the duke was a well known skirt-chaser. Yet there was an intimacy between them that neither man tried to hide. They seemed genuinely fond of each other, despite the differences in their social positions.
Redding sat back in his seat and met the duke’s gaze. “How amorous are you feeling today, Your Grace?”
An amused grin crossed the duke’s features, interest and more behind his smile. “We’re on a mission to rescue the damsel in distress, Redding. Now is hardly the time for experimentation.”
Oscar quickly looked away. He did not want to leap to conclusions, but they made it ridiculously easy to do so. Heaven help them if any member of society noticed this close friendship and listened to their banter. The duke and his servant could get themselves arrested merely on the suspicion of unnatural affection. The duke’s reputation, and his entire family, could be ruined as a result of an unfounded rumor. If it were proved true, they could both lose their lives.
Redding sighed and gestured toward the bawdy house. “There are women in there, Your Grace, and if memory serves it’s been quite a while since you’ve selected a new woman.”
The duke chuckled. “Why, Redding, I had not realized you paid that much attention to my personal life. But you are correct. I feel a certain yearning even as we speak.”
A resigned expression flittered across Redding’s face as he turned away. “Doesn’t the Hunt Club need new blood to replace that girl who went and got married?” Redding held out his hand for one of Oscar’s pistols. “You are known to personally interview potential candidates, are you not?”
“That I am.” The duke held out his hand for the other, but Oscar didn’t oblige him. “Redding is a genius. You will wait here, my boy. We have a better chance of getting her out without you with us. Redding has an inkling this abduction is directed at you, personally, and that Agatha is the innocent party in all of it. I know your blood yearns for revenge, but I can walk in there and demand entry to any woman’s bed with Redding at my heels without anyone raising a fuss. He could probably watch me bed the girl and it wouldn’t be remarked upon.”
Redding rolled his eyes. “Surely you do not need an audience to get a rise, Your Grace.”
The duke barked a laugh, but didn’t seem to have a ready answer for a change. Redding’s grin appeared and disappeared as the silence lengthened.
Could Oscar trust the duke to bring Agatha to him unharmed? Did he even know what she looked like?
The duke eased Oscar’s pistols from his grip and handed one to Redding. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, face of an angel. Answers to the nickname precious?”
Oscar nodded numbly. Was there anything about his life that Staines could not find out? Surely some things were private?
The duke chuckled. “You sleep on the left side of the bed and prefer one particular sexual position. The . . .”
Redding clamped his hand over the duke’s mouth to shut him up. “Enough now. If you say any more, the boy will likely never speak to you again.”
When Redding dropped his hand, the duke was grinning. “You see why I keep him on, Oscar. Who else would dare keep me in line like that? We will return with your Agatha as quick as we can. Stay in the carriage and keep out of sight. We don’t want you noticed, or they might not let me have her.”
Oscar opened his mouth to protest.
The duke held out a staying hand. “Shh, boy. Trust me.”
Redding spoke to the driver and they moved off. As the building came closer, Oscar’s panic doubled. It was a mean place. Too coarse for his precious girl. He hoped Staines could get her out. He prayed for it with all his heart.
The coach stopped and Redding stepped out. After a long wait, Staines followed and rushed up to the front door with an eager spring in his step. The door closed and his carriage moved away. They circled the block as the driver normally would and stopped in a side lane to wait for the duke’s return.
Oscar slid to the window closest to the brothel and peered out. He could see scarcely one window from here. He wasn’t nearly close enough. He’d get out and wait. He set his hand to the door as one of the footmen jumped down. The groom opened the door and pushed him further into the carriage.
“Here now!”
The groom ignored him, flipped open a concealed cupboard and poured a drink. He handed the crystal glass to Oscar. “Redding insisted.”
A drink could settle his nerves.
Oscar took the glass and swallowed it down fast. As he handed the glass back, the groom pulled something long from his pocket. Oscar’s dueling pistol sat on the groom’s lap. A silent threat.
The groom shrugged. “Afraid Redding insisted on this, too, my lord. Mrs. Leyton’s bawdy house is no fit place for you. The duke would never forgive himself if you were hurt. Best to stay here as Redding likes you.”
~ * ~
“She’s lovely. Very soft skin, but I’m after someone a little purer on the eye. Someone who might cause a ripple of envy on my arm at the theatre. I want everyone mad for her name and for an introduction. When they find out she’s the latest acquisition for the Hunt Club’s stable, we will be inundated with applications, all of which I must reluctantly refuse, and thus retain our popularity. You, of course, know what a reputation for exclusivity means in our world. I intend to finish the year with a triumphant roar.”
Agatha heard the deep voice outside her door and cringed. Don’t come in. Don’t come near me. I cannot be that woman. She’d rather die than be any man’s whore. She held her breath, but the footsteps didn’t move on.
“Well, that does make your pocket book heftier. Wouldn’t mind that myself.” There was a painfully long pause. “If you want purity, then I’ve got just the lass for you. Mind you, she could be trouble. The pure ones always are. But if the price was right I’m sure we could come to an arrangement. This one is worth double the previous girl.”
Agatha’s door knob jiggled. She stared at it as it began to turn and could not look
away as the abbess entered the room, two finely dressed gentlemen hard on her heels.
One of them, the tallest, hissed.
The other stared at her foot. “How utterly delightful.”
Despite not wanting to react, Agatha squeezed her toes together. A flicker of anger crossed the shorter man’s face. One of his hands curled into a fist.
The tall man moved closer to the bed. He tested the bonds at her ankles, yet did not, thankfully, touch her skin.
The shorter one turned his back on her, one arm behind him, fist still clenched. “She’s perfect, breathtaking, but I do think she should be inspected. Redding, be a good chap and take a look at her teeth.”
Redding winced. “Of course, Your Grace. I should have thought of it sooner.”
Agatha stared at the shorter man’s back. A duke? Good God she would never get out of this with any of her reputation intact. While the duke haggled with the abbess, the Redding fellow moved closer. He met her eyes as he reached for her face.
Agatha shifted her head from side to side.
The abbess appeared beside the bed. “You’ll need a firm hand with this one. She’s somewhat feisty.”
The duke drew the abbess away again. “I do like a feisty woman. So much more fun to have around. Now about the price.”
Agatha whipped her gaze back to Redding just as he captured her jaw.
“Don’t fight me now, precious,” he whispered. “Open your mouth like a good girl so we can get you home.”
Precious? Only Oscar called her that. Why would this gentleman know or use the name? He didn’t say another word. His grip softened.
She let her jaw slacken. Redding gently pried her mouth open and made a show of inspecting her teeth. But he whispered, “Go along with whatever the duke does and says. Don’t fight us too much.”
Redding sat back. “She has all her teeth, Your Grace.”
