The Viscount's Salvation (Honorable Rogue Book 3)

by Vikki Vaught

  She went over to a door across the room. Opening it, she found a good-sized bathing chamber. A large slipper tub filled much of the space. The door on the opposite wall must lead into Cortland’s bedchamber. She assumed they would share this room.

  She heard a noise and returned to her bedchamber, discovering that Ella had entered. “Good evening. It’s so good to see you. I trust the trip with the children went well?”

  Her maid curtsied. “It did, miss, oh, I mean ma’am. We arrived five days ago, and the children are settling in nicely.”

  She looked forward to meeting Gerrard and Aimee the next day. Hopefully, they would take to her, and she to them. “That’s good to hear. Ella, if you will find me a night rail, it would be much appreciated. It’s been a long journey and I need my bed.”

  “Certainly.” Her maid went to a chest, pulled out her bedclothes, and laid them on the foot of the bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “That’s all.” Ready to crawl in bed, she yawned, then murmured, “Please, go seek your bed. Since you’ve had the children to contend with, I can manage to undress on my own.”

  “As you wish, ma’am,” she replied. “What time do you want me to wake you in the morning?”

  She stifled another yawn. “I’m going to take a lie-in tomorrow, so nine will do. Goodnight, Ella.”

  “To you as well. I will see you in the morning.” Her maid curtsied, then left her alone.

  Mary undressed and donned her night rail, then took a seat in front of the dressing table and picked up her brush. While she worked it through her mass of curls, she thought about all that had happened in little more than a week. She’d gone from an innocent miss, scared of what her father had planned for her, to a married woman with a husband determined to keep her safe.

  Thank goodness she met Cortland and that he was willing to help her. If he had not come forward, there was no way she would have escaped her fate. Whether it had been at the hands of the marquess, or through the evil she could have encountered if she had run away, her life would have been in peril. She would be eternally grateful to him for the rest of her life.

  After she had her hair braided, she heard a noise coming from the bathing chamber. When she went to investigate, she found Cortland. “Oh…beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll go back to my chamber.”

  He stepped forward. “Wait. I’m sorry I didn’t show you our suite earlier. I hope you found everything to your satisfaction.”

  Turning around, she gave him a hesitant smile, thrilled he wanted her to stay. “I did. I love our rooms. I’m sure I will be quite comfortable here.”

  “Would you mind if I join you?” His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.

  Her breath caught, and she was barely able to speak. “I would like that.”

  He came to her and pulled her into his arms, then kissed her. She melted into his embrace. When he deepened his kiss, she opened up for him. After several long kisses, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to her bed, gently lying her down. She moved over and he climbed in beside her, then pulled her to him and resumed kissing her. Warmth spread throughout her body. Her pulse raced as he slipped loose her buttons and parted her night rail.

  “So lovely.” Then he leaned in and drew one of her nipples into his mouth, feasting on it as if he had a delectable morsel of sweet cake. She arched her back, trying to get closer to his tantalizing mouth. Gathering up her gown, he murmured, “I think we can dispense with this.”

  She lifted up her bottom, and he pulled her gown over her head and dropped it to the carpet. Her heart pounded so fast she feared it would break through her chest as he trailed kisses from her neck to her navel. He swirled his tongue around it, allowing his hand to roam down her stomach, then he parted her thighs.

  Her moist heat welcomed his fingers inside as his thumb slid over her nubbin, sending waves of sensation to her core. Cortland pushed his nightshirt out of the way, then surged inside, filling her most deliciously. He set up a steady rhythm, and she soon caught his pace.

  Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, he moved. The muscles in her channel wound tighter and tighter. Her breath came up in short pants. Cortland growled as he thrust inside one more time, and she flew so high it felt as if she could touch the sky. Brilliant shooting stars flashed behind her closed eyelids as he made one more deep thrust and the warmth of his seed filled her completely.

  He rolled to her side, pulling her into the shelter of his arms. They laid there several minutes until their ragged breath at last began to slow. Her whole body felt languid. She could not have moved if her life depended on it. With her head laying on his chest, she listened to the steady beating of his heart, then fell into an exhausted, yet very satisfying sleep with a smile on her lips.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Cortland awoke the next morning with Mary snuggled against his side, his arm draped around her shoulders.

  Damn it. He had not meant to fall asleep in her bed, no matter how much he enjoyed holding her through the night. He could have had one of his nightmares, and he might have done something to her when it had him in its grip. Thank God, they had stayed away, but from now on, he would make sure he left her bed after they made love.

  While they had been on the trip, he’d had no choice but sleep with her, and it had worried him every night. Now that they were home, it was no longer necessary.

  Although he hated to leave his sweet wife, he was ready to explore his property after being away for so long. He carefully slipped his arm from under his wife’s back, then slid from bed. She crinkled up her face, but her features soon smoothed again, and she remained asleep. Thank God, his wife slept soundly. He envied her that. After a few moments of watching her lovely countenance in peaceful slumber, he quietly left her in her warm bed.

  After he entered his room, he quickly accomplished his morning ablutions, donned his riding garments, and made his way downstairs. He ate an enormous breakfast prepared by Mrs. Conner, his cook and old family retainer, one who had seen he had plenty of treats as a child. Once he finished eating, he asked Giles to find his steward and have him come to his study.

  Mr. Adams rushed in fifteen minutes later, out of breath and with several ledgers in his arms. “Giles asked me to join you right away.” The man gasped a lung full of air, and after placing the books on the desk, he bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Your household holds you in high regard, so I look forward to serving you.”

  Cortland looked him over, not having met the man before. His brother-in-law seemed to have a great deal of confidence in him. Since he valued Alex’s opinion, he expected the man was more than competent. He was close to his own age, with a slightly stocky build and a jovial smile, which boded well.

  Cortland offered his hand and Mr. Adams shook it. “Thank you for joining me. I see you have the estate books with you. Why don’t you bring me up to date with my property?”

  “Certainly, sir.” His steward picked up the book on top of the stack and handed it to him. “This one covers several years before I took over as your steward. You’ll see the estate was in dire straits. Over the last year, it has been turned around and is making a decent profit.”

  While looking over the ledgers, Mr. Adams quickly explained where the estate stood presently. The man had certainly accomplished a great deal in the last year. Cortland was pleased to see everything appeared to be in good order now. From what he gathered from glancing through the older ledger, the estate had indeed been completely mishandled. Of course, he would take a closer look after the steward left him, just to be sure all was as it should be.

  Once Mr. Adams finished bringing him up to date, Cortland said, “Very good. I will go over the books in greater detail and meet with you again tomorrow. After I have seen my wards, I want you to show me around my estate. Meet me at the stables at eleven o’clock.”

  Mr. Adams bobbed his head. “As you wish, sir.” The man rushed from the room just as fast as he had entered. H
e was certainly an energetic fellow, and Cortland felt at ease with him. He suspected that they would deal well together and could even become good friends. From what Alex had told him, the man was a younger son of the Earl of Stanhope, and he had to seek his own way in the world. He admired him for that alone.

  Cortland spent the next two hours perusing the ledgers and was even more pleased with his steward. The man was a miracle worker. Without him, he would have lost the estate. The first order of business was to raise the man’s salary. He had more than earned it.

  At ten, he made his way to the schoolroom. When he entered, the children looked up. Aimee jumped from her seat and ran to him, wrapping her little arms around his hips. Picking her up, he kissed her soft, sweet-smelling cheek. “I take it you’re pleased to see me, my little one.”

  Evidently embarrassed by her outward show of affection, she buried her face in his neck and murmured, “Beg your pardon, monsieur, but I was so glad to see you, I forgot my manners.”

  He squeezed her tight. “Don’t ever be afraid to show your feelings. It pleases me that you’re glad to see me, as I’m happy to see you as well.” He looked over at Gerrard, and the young lad met his gaze. “It’s good to see you as well, mon ami. Have you settled in?”

  The lad came toward him and bowed. “We have, monsieur. I have been using my time to teach Aimee how to read and write her name. Miss Ella has taken very good care of us, as has our new nursemaid, Miss Ellen.”

  Cortland lowered Aimee to the floor and offered Gerrard his hand. “That’s good news. Are you enjoying your new bedchambers?”

  “We both find our rooms a pleasure. She does not remember when we lived at the château, only the small cottage.”

  Aimee piped in, “I love all the dolls in my room, and the tea table and chairs. I have a tea party every afternoon. Would you come to one of my parties?”

  Cortland chuckled. “I would be delighted.” He smiled down at his wards, and something tugged at his heart for these wonderful children. God had certainly been looking out for him when he placed these youngsters in his path. Then he proceeded to tell them of his marriage. “You shall meet Mrs. Wallingford soon. She’s anxious to meet both of you.”

  A knock on the door echoed through the room, and the nursemaid went to open it. Mary stood outside with a tentative smile on her face.

  He beckoned her in. “Ah, Mrs. Wallingford, I just told the children the good news concerning our marriage. Please, come join us so you can meet them.”

  Mary stepped inside, and smiled as he introduced her to the youngsters. Aimee executed a perfect little curtsey and Gerrard gave her a courtly bow and said, “Good morning, Madame Wallingford. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  Mary kneeled in front of the children. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Your guardian has told me how you saved his life. You are both very brave.”

  Gerrard replied, “It was an honor to assist le capitaine. We are most fortunate that he brought us here to this country and has offered us a home.”

  Aimee asked, “Madame, I would be honored if you would accept my invitation to come to tea this afternoon. I want to show you my beautiful dolls.”

  “That would please me greatly,” she replied.

  Cortland interjected, “Children, we will both return this afternoon at three o’clock.” Then he offered his arm to Mary. “Come my dear. I want to show you around the house. Then I’m meeting my steward for a ride at eleven.”

  Mary bade the children goodbye, then he led her from the room, so he could give her the tour of his residence. He showed her the rest of the third floor that housed the nursery and schoolroom along with two additional bedchambers for children. When he entered his old childhood room before he had moved to the lower floor when he entered Eton, his breath caught.

  Everything looked the same as he remembered, his simple art drawings hung on the wall, and his school books were stacked neatly on his desk. Even the coverlet and drapes were the same. His loving mother had kept it untouched for some reason. “This was my bedchamber before I left for school.”

  She glanced around. “It must hold many fond memories.”

  “It does. I had no idea my mother kept it all the same.” Warmth for her filled his soul and happy memories invaded his mind. He blinked several times to keep from tearing up. “Come, let me show you the rest of the house.”

  He took her through the other two bedchambers for guests on the floor where they had their suite and all the various rooms downstairs as well. He ended the tour in the formal dining room by showing her the portrait of him with his parents and his sister, which had been commissioned when he turned sixteen the Christmas before Anissa went for her first London season.

  While he gazed at the portrait, a wave of loss swept through him. He’d been so fortunate to have such a wonderful mother and father, not everyone was so lucky. Mary had lost her mother to scandal, and a grandmother she had loved at a tender age. Then her father had treated her with such disdain because of the actions of her mother. He would make sure she had the love of a family from now on.

  Sighing, he shook off his musings. “So, what do you think of your new home?”

  She smiled. “It’s simply splendid, Cortland. I shall be quite content here.” She paused and her expression grew solemn. “Thank you for showing me this painting of your family. All of you look so happy. It’s good that you have this visual memory of the happy times you shared.”

  “Thank you. I’m so grateful my mother made us sit for this. At the time, I resented it, wanting to be with my cousin instead.” He took one last look and guided her into the entry hall. A change was needed to lighten the mood, so he told her, “Please feel free to make changes if you so desire. It hasn’t been redecorated since I was a boy, probably fifteen years or more.”

  When they stopped at the foot of the stairs, she replied, “That’s very considerate, thank you. I shall probably change the drapes and upholstery in the drawing room and add a few things to the morning room, but other than that, I love everything else.”

  Cortland pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Well, my dear. It is almost eleven and time for my ride. I shall probably not join you for the midday meal, but I will see you at three when we take tea with the children. I hope you will not grow bored.”

  She gave a little laugh that was so melodious it reminded him of church bells. “Never fear. I plan to meet with Mrs. Clifford and discuss the running of the house. Enjoy your ride, Cortland.”

  Glancing around the foyer, and not seeing any servants, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Then I shall see you in a few hours.” Then he released her arm and strode toward the door, but before he reached it, someone knocked.

  Giles came into the entry hall and opened the door. A footman handed his butler a missive. While it had been years since he had seen any of his uncle’s servants, he recognized the livery immediately. “You are from my uncle’s estate, are you not?”

  The young man bowed. “I am in the employ of Viscount Hardesty. He has sent you an urgent message, sir.”

  He took the parchment from Giles, opened it and read:

  Nephew,

  Praise the Lord, you have returned alive. I received a letter from your sister giving me the news and your direction. I do not have good tidings. I beg you come at once. My son has died, and I do not have long to live.

  Hardesty

  Basil, dead? How?

  My uncle, dying?

  Pain lanced his heart. Tears threatened; refusing to give into grief, he stiffened his spine and did not allow them to fall. He turned to Mary. “My uncle is gravely ill and my cousin is dead. How, the missive does not say. I must go to him at once.”

  With her blue-green eyes filled with understanding, she murmured, “Of course. I’m so sorry to hear this tragic news. I hope your uncle will recover from his illness. I shall pray for him and for your cousin’s soul. Do you want me to come with you?”

  He shook his head and swallowed, ba
rely able to speak so much emotion filled him. “Nay. I need to ride swiftly. Once I know more regarding my uncle’s condition, then perhaps I’ll send for you. Wallingford Manor is only two miles down the road. Well, I must make haste. I shall send word to keep you abreast of the situation.” He gave her hand a discreet squeeze and rushed outside.

  The groom had already brought his horse around, so he did not have to wait for it to be saddled. After he explained to Mr. Adams that he had to go to his uncle, he mounted up and was soon thundering down the road toward his uncle’s home. Ten minutes later, he made it to the house. He dismounted and threw the reins to the stable boy, then ran up the steps.

  Before he could even knock, the door opened and his uncle’s butler ushered him inside. “Take me to my uncle.”

  Wallis replied, “Thank God you have come, sir. His lordship is in his bedchamber and your aunt is with him. She told me to bring you up as soon as you arrived. Please come with me.”

  As he followed the butler up the stairs, images of fond memories with Basil filtered through his mind. The two of them sliding down the bannister, running through the halls. His heart ached for his fun-loving cousin. He was far too young to die. Basil was only eighteen months older than he. What could have happened? Anissa had not mentioned he was ill. It must have been some kind of accident.

  They had climbed to the upper floor by this time and were almost at his uncle’s bedchamber, so he pushed his troubling and painful concerns from his mind. When they reached it, the butler knocked.

  Immediately, the door was opened by his uncle’s valet. Cortland entered and took in the scene before him. His uncle lay on his bed, his face shrunken almost beyond recognition. Nothing remained of the jovial, robust man he remembered.

  His aunt, Marjorie, arose from the chair by the bed and moved toward him. “Cortland. Thank God you have arrived.”