Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two

by Abigail Graves

  “If it wasn't Whitrose, then I don't care who died in that fire. If it was, then it could have been anyone living in the warehouse and completely unrelated to the case we’re trying to solve now. As would be the woman, her sister and the girl. Digby will look into the Willet woman, and find any information he can on a woman with a mother and child named Charlotte and a sister named Jane.”

  “You saw her, Alastair!” Lucien yelled. “It doesn't matter if she was unrelated to the case. A child died in front of us. She starved to death next to her dead mother.”

  Alastair waited. Lucien was emotional and not thinking logically.

  “I understand that you're affected by what you witnessed…” Lucien cut him off.

  “Aren't you? How could you not be affected? She was just a child!” He looked disappointed and sad.

  “My feelings won't change the outcome, Lucien. There was nothing we could do for her. If you walk through the slums, you'll find hundreds of little girls on the verge of starving to death. We can't save them any more than we could her. If you want to help them, open good orphanages.” He said calmly. Lucien threw his hands up and slumped against the cushions. “I’m sorry. If I reacted as you did to each wretched soul I encountered in the course of my investigations, I wouldn't be effective. The best thing we can do for little girls like Charlotte is put an end to white slavery and make sure there are clean brothels. I can assure you, her life was not full of sweets and poppets and trips to the park. From what I saw, her mother probably sold flowers or oranges and may have sold herself as well. I wouldn't be surprised if little Charlotte hasn't already worked as a brothel servant.”

  “That doesn't mean they deserved to die, Alastair.” Lucien said coldly. Alastair paused and considered the comment. He was angry and reacting irrationally.

  “I didn't say they did, nor do I believe that. The entire scene was a tragedy, Lucien. But not uncommon in the stews and slums. It's merely the reality. It may be related to our investigation or their presence might have been a coincidence. We may know more after Digby looks into it. You and Gilles would rush off to avenge this woman and little girl when there may be no one to exact revenge upon. Or, there may be a hundred Charlottes to avenge. I would prefer to stop the Whitroses so that there are fewer men to prey on the Charlottes that survive their tragic childhoods.” Alastair leaned back and watched Lucien consider all he said. Eventually, he nodded and relaxed. He sighed and Alastair saw that he looked haggard. “Will you be alright?” Lucien nodded as he stared out the window.

  “I will be. I just want to go home and lose myself in a hot bath and Mirabelle.” His voice sounded far away, Alastair knew he was thinking of the little girl and wanted to be out of the carriage as soon as possible.

  He didn't even wait for it to come to a complete stop before he jumped out and ran up the steps and into Clerendon House. Alastair watched him disappear within and closed the carriage door. He settled in his seat and banged on the roof. Home and a bath sounded like a good idea. For the first time, Alastair wished he wasn't going home to an empty house. He wriggled his shoulders as he pushed the thought away.

  “Burn the gloves and the jacket, Joss.” Lucien said as he handed the items to his butler. He looked up as Mirabelle stepped into the hall.

  “You're back!” The smile died on her lips as she looked at him. “What happened? Where do you go?” She ran towards Lucien and he pulled her to him as soon as she was close enough. He closed his eyes and held her tight. She smells like heaven. He thought. He hoped that little Charlotte and her mother were surrounded by lavender and jasmine.

  “It was terrible. I need a bath and I need you. Can we go to bed and stay there for the rest of the day?” Lucien pulled back and looked into Mirabelle's eyes. He saw her concern and her love for him. He also saw their childhood and Winthorpe. He saw the fields and forests, them rolling in the grass and her hanging upside down from tree branches. She smiled softly and nodded.

  “Of course!” She whispered as she pulled his face to hers. Lucien shut his eyes and felt peace and warmth pushing out the heartbreak and evil he'd witnessed that afternoon. Mirabelle's lips brushed against his and he knew the world had to be full of more beautiful things than dark and ugly. She couldn't exist in a world that wasn't good. “Come along, then.” She said softly as she turned and led him up the stairs.

  Lucien let her help him with his clothes. As Mirabelle peeled away each layer, he felt the warehouse falling away from him. He put the clothes in the hall; he'd make sure they were disposed of later. He felt profoundly grateful for her as he carefully undid the buttons and laces of her dress and chemise. He thanked God for the miraculous perfection of her body as he slid her stockings down her legs and knew he was as close to heaven as a man could get when he shook her hair loose and buried his face in it.

  When they were in the tub, Mirabelle coaxed the details of the afternoon from Lucien. She listened and cried as she bathed him, as if she was helping him wash the horrible events of the day away from his soul, along with the dust and dirt from the warehouse. As Lucien bathed her, he felt as if he was worshiping a healing deity.

  After they were rinsed and dried, Mirabelle took Lucien's hand and led him to her bed. She kissed him and guided him until he was on his back and she was over him. Her hair hung about him, a fiery cascade around his face and shoulders in the late afternoon light. She rained kisses over his lips, cheeks, brow and chin before settling her lips against his. Their tongues tangled as her fingers slid down his neck. Lucien let his hands glide over the planes of her back, bottom and thighs, as if he could claim more of the calm he found in her, the more he touched her. He felt her slide against him and arch until his erection pressed against her hot, wet core and slid in. She angled her head and deepened their kiss as she began moving against him. Mirabelle wrapped her arms around Lucien and rode him slowly.

  Neither seemed in a rush, both content to hide within each other from the horrors of the day. Both sought the shelter of the other’s mouth and found peace in the way their bodies connected. The slide of skin against skin soothed and warmed them as their arms wrapped protectively around one another. They danced together slowly, silently. Lucien rolled them so that Mirabelle could wrap her legs around his waist and he could settle fully within her but he kept the pace slow and gentle. There were times when they drifted towards sleep; they were so relaxed and serene.

  When they both finally let their release take them, it was stunning. Lucien felt Mirabelle’s arms and legs pulling him tighter and tighter into her as her soul caressed his tongue. When she shattered in his arms, his name came from her lips as a gasp and she whispered “I love you.” A moment later, he felt as if he was truly being pulled into her as he exploded and his seed poured from him. He shut his eyes as he called to her, the world filled with bright light and his body ceased to exist. Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through him. When they finally subsided he was completely spent.

  “I love you. I love you so much, Mirabelle.” He whispered the words against the corner of her neck before he let go and let sleep claim him.

  Chapter 27

  The Haverford ballroom was a crush. Some clod had stumbled and spilled champagne all over Mirabelle’s sleeve. Lucien behaved as if he'd ripped her arm off and insisted on escorting her to a retiring room. A maid had been helpful and they managed to dab most of it away until the sleeve was almost dry. When Mirabelle stepped into the hall she stood on her tiptoes until she spied Lucien’s back, he was leaning against a column. She could see that he was in the midst of a conversation but could see nothing of the person he was talking to. As she approached, Mirabelle reached for Lucien’s arm and heard a woman’s voice. She was pouting. Mirabelle froze and listened.

  “You can't mean that, Lucien! You know I will be discreet.” Her accent suggested she was Prussian or Austrian.

  “I'm sorry, fräulein.” His voice was low and smooth. “I've married, our arrangement is over.”

  “We always had so muc
h fun.” She purred. Mirabelle felt her eye twitch. “Just because you're married doesn't mean you no longer have needs. Do you forget how much you enjoyed how I used to…” She attempted to lean forward and whisper but Lucien stopped her.

  “No, Astrid. My wife is quite demanding and more than capable of seeing to my needs.” He drawled. “I’m afraid she leaves me with very little energy for other… pursuits.”

  “Such a shame, Lucien. I will wait. When you have become bored, you may call on me.” Mirabelle was about to make her presence known and inform the “fräulein” as to what she could do while she waited when Lucien chuckled. She stilled.

  “There is no chance of that, I can assure you.” The woman gasped.

  “If I did not know better, I would think you were in love with your wife, liebling.” Mirabelle detected sarcasm.

  “Hopelessly. I'm afraid I've been reformed.” Mirabelle suddenly felt as if her feet were leaving the floor and the room became warmer.

  “Your wife must be very lovely and talented. Perhaps she might be interested in ménage à trois?” Mirabelle's jaw dropped. She felt Lucien tense and stared at his back.

  “Absolutely not. I could never share her.” His voice was gravely. Mirabelle knew he'd imagined something and was affected. She couldn't blame him. She was too. So much so that she continued to stare at his back, blinking and mouth agape. The woman sighed.

  “I'm very disappointed. How shall I entertain myself?”

  “I think I can be of assistance. Do you know Ridgeworth?”

  “I have seen him in passing.” Mirabelle could hear that she was intrigued. Lucien laughed softly.

  “He recently parted with his mistress. I can write to him tomorrow, if you'd like.”

  “I would be most grateful.” She sounded as if she was going to touch Lucien again. Mirabelle decided she'd heard enough. She stepped forward and grabbed Lucien’s arm.

  “There you are! I think we managed to get most of it. I don't think it looks too obvious.” Mirabelle tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and looked up. “Oh! Hello!” She smiled brightly as she let her eyes sweep over the woman in front of Lucien. She had to mask her surprise. The woman had to be in her middle to late forties and she was exceptionally beautiful. She was tall with blonde hair and carried herself regally. Mirabelle was loath to admit that her silver gown was quite elegant and flattered her slender figure. With the exception of her ample breasts, she was willowy and delicate. She made Mirabelle feel like a cow. Lucien cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat.

  “Archduchess Astrid Karoline of Austria may I present my wife, Her Grace, the Duchess of Clerendon.”Mirabelle managed to keep her jaw from dropping as she looked up at Lucien. She dropped to a curtsy and nodded when the woman returned the gesture. The woman’s eyes appraised Mirabelle from head to toe and for a moment she felt inadequate. Then, she saw her lick her lips seductively, her gaze flicked to Lucien before returning to Mirabelle. She smiled suggestively.

  “It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.” She purred. “Your husband has told me much about you.” Lucien cleared his throat again and placed Mirabelle's hand on his arm.

  “If you'll excuse us. It was a pleasure to see you again; I'll make sure to write that letter first thing tomorrow.” He very nearly dragged Mirabelle back towards the ballroom. He was only able to manage a few steps before she stopped and tugged on his arm. He was tense when he looked down.

  “I want to go home. Now.” She whispered. Lucien nodded and turned them towards the door.

  It took them ten minutes to negotiate the crowd and another five for their carriage to be found. Mirabelle was still in shock. Lucien was taut next to her and she heard him muttering curses as the carriage was brought around. He handed her in as soon as the door was opened and took the seat opposite her. As soon as the door was closed, he sagged against the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “I'm so sorry, Mirabelle. If you'll just let me explain…” Lucien leaned forward and gestured towards Haverford House. For a moment his mouth just opened and closed. He thought she was angry. For a moment, Mirabelle considered letting him flounder. It was adorable. She decided it was too cruel. She wasn't upset. She was so touched by his comments and wildly aroused knowing that he would prefer her over a woman like that.

  “Did you imagine me with her?” Mirabelle whispered as she slid to the edge of the seat. Lucien's head snapped in her direction. He tried to speak but nothing came out. He swallowed loudly.

  “How much did you hear?” His voice rasped and Mirabelle was sure she could hear his heart pounding within his chest.

  “Everything.” Her voice was little more than a breath; her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tugged at the bow in the middle of her bodice. Lucien sat back and watched as she unlaced it and then pulled so that her cleavage gaped. He groaned and licked his lips as he unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat. She reached for the blind and pulled it, plunging the cabin into darkness before she launched herself at him.

  Mirabelle was in his lap, astride him. She took his face in her hands and pulled him to her. Their mouths pressed together, their tongues dueled as they panted in the dark. Lucien grabbed her bodice and tugged until she felt her breasts spill out. He filled his hands and his thumbs brushed her nipples. Mirabelle pulled back and gasped. She arched and felt his lips against her throat. Heat exploded and she felt herself becoming wet, she was so heavy between her thighs. Lucien lifted her breast and his lips closed about her nipple. Mirabelle sobbed as he started to suckle hungrily.

  “Please!” She moaned. “I need you!”

  His hands gripped her thighs and slid behind her. He shifted lower in the seat and pulled her forward so he could reach the buttons of his breeches. A moment later, Mirabelle felt Lucien's hands sliding up her calves and he slid her skirts up to her waist. She shivered and rose on her knees. His hands worked between her thighs and she felt the head of his erection against her. He hissed as he rubbed it against her slick entrance. Mirabelle lowered and felt him filling her.

  “Ooh, my God.” Lucien groaned as she slid down. He found her lips and kissed her deeply as he filled his hands with the globes of her derrière. She gripped his shoulders and rose slowly, savoring the friction of him rubbing inside of her. His hands started moving, caressing her bottom and thighs as she raised herself. “Find the rhythm of the horses’ gait. Just like you’re riding.” His voice was hoarse and damp against her skin.

  Mirabelle picked up her pace, sliding and rising in time with the rocking of the carriage. She began squeezing and relaxing the muscles that wrapped around Lucien's cock as she rode him. His head fell back as he cursed. She made a mental note to thank Elise. After overhearing Gilles and her, Mirabelle had asked what Elise had done to make him delirious. She had described the way she “squeezed him intimately”. At the time, Mirabelle had no idea how valuable that information would be once she was married. It drove Lucien wild.

  He slid his hands around her thighs and found her damp curls. He pressed his thumb against the delicate pearl within her folds as his tongue found her nipple. He flicked at it as he rubbed. Mirabelle shrieked and bucked against him. Lucien pulled her nipple between his lips and grazed her with his teeth. She hauled in a desperate breath as she felt her nerves tighten and coil within her. He started rocking his hips against her and suckled harder. Suddenly, stars exploded behind her eyelids and she was momentarily paralyzed as lightening pulsed through her. Mirabelle screamed and her body convulsed. As if from far away, she heard Lucien call her name, he pulled her hard against him as thrust into her. He arched and gasped as his arms wrapped around her. A heartbeat later, he collapsed against the cushions and she melted against his chest.

  They were still for several minutes. Mirabelle could feel Lucien’s heart beating against her. She sighed contentedly, wrapped in his arms and drowsy. The last hour replayed in her mind and she laughed.

  “Hmm?”

  “That was…” She couldn't make sense of
it all.

  “Remarkable? Divine? Satisfying?” He offered as he nuzzled her neck.

  “Not that.” She pushed and sat up.

  “Oh.” Was he pouting?

  “An archduchess, Lucien! Really?” She knew he'd been in demand but she had never imagined anything like that. He shrugged.

  “She’s just a woman; her title did nothing for me.” His lips were pressed into the corner of her neck and she felt his tongue stroke her skin.

  “She was quite beautiful.” Mirabelle shivered as he nipped her shoulder.

  “Yes. But you're more beautiful.” He ran his tongue all the way up to her ear lobe. “And you taste better.”

  “Please. She's in an entirely different class.” Mirabelle countered. Lucien shook his head and went back to nibbling on her ear.

  “You're so very wrong, my love.” He was still inside of her and she could feel him starting to harden. She licked her lips and for once was glad that it was a longer ride back from Richmond.

  “You have to say that, you're my husband.” She sighed as hips started moving.

  “Exactly. I married you.” His lips traced her cheek until they brushed against her lips.

  “Not just because of my appearance. And it's not as if you could have married her.” Lucien stilled and lifted his head. He shrugged.

  “I could have. I just didn't want to.” He lowered his lips and started thrusting again. Mirabelle pulled back.

  “You could have married her?” She was thoroughly shocked. Lucien sighed and stilled.

  “Yes. I suppose. She did hint at it for some time.” She could sense that he was becoming frustrated.

  “And you didn't because…?” She couldn't help herself.

  “I didn't want to. I didn't want to marry anyone and the idea of marrying her didn't appeal.” He found her hand and brought it to his lips; he licked her wrist and began to nibble.