by HELEN HARDT
Mr. Landon often commented about the events he attended during the season, so she was sure he would be at one or more of the balls signifying its end. In fact, she was counting on it.
If only his kisses stirred her the way Evan’s had. After the debacle with Wentworth in April, she had been certain she didn’t ever want to kiss another man. Mr. Landon had changed her mind. He was lovely to look at, his hair shorter than Evan’s and darker than her own. He had lovely amber eyes. Evan was, of course, taller. Evan was taller than most men. Broader too, and most definitely more defined. The man could have been sculpted by one of the Renaissance artists. He cut quite an athletic figure.
But he was the second son. He would never have an estate of his own, nor a title. Ally didn’t care about the title, but she did care about the estate. She wanted money. As mercenary as she knew it sounded, she had made up her mind long ago that she would never live in near poverty again. Sophie thought her shallow in some ways, mostly because of her determination to marry for money. In truth, Ally was not shallow at all. She loved her family and would move heaven and earth to help them if they needed her. With money, she could make sure she would have the means to help them if they needed it. Mama’s recent marriage had negated the need on her part, but she still had Sophie to consider.
If Mr. Landon would not have her, she would simply find someone else who would. She hoped against hope that he wasn’t shallow and that he didn’t care how horrid she’d looked earlier today.
Ally let out a heavy sigh. Marriage. It was a fate she’d resigned herself to long ago—a fate that didn’t necessarily include love. After all, the only example of marriage she’d had in her short life was her mother’s loveless one. Since her father’s death two years previously, she’d been privileged to see firsthand the marriage between her aunt and uncle. Theirs was a love match, and both her cousins, Lily and Rose, had found love matches for themselves. And now even Mama had found her love match. Ally had never considered the possibility of a love match, and she wasn’t about to start considering it now.
She patted her full tummy. She was fraught with exhaustion and could not wait to sleep in her own bed tonight. But she wanted to do some writing first. She sat at a small table, took a quill and parchment, and began.
* * *
After a hearty dinner and a couple of good brandies, Evan readied himself to return to the printing house. He would damn well find out who was behind the obscene literature.
Evan was very well acquainted with the night staff. They were responsible mainly for daily news journals that had to be delivered at first light. The day staff, under Jenkins, dealt more with books and other such literature, which were Evan’s main interests and why he got into the printing and publishing business in the first place. He had nothing against erotic literature, but he didn’t want his business associated with it because it was illegal under the Vagrancy Act of 1824, more specifically its amendment in 1838.
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the business. The front door would be locked, of course, since normal business hours were during the day. Though Evan had a key, he chose to go around to the back entrance.
He strode in nonchalantly. “I need to speak with Mr. Charles Gunderson, please.” In actuality, he had never met Gunderson before. All the night staff had been hired by Jenkins and his superior.
“He’s in the back, sir,” a workman said. “May I ask who wishes to speak with him?”
“Lord Evan Xavier. I own this business.”
The young man, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old, arched his eyebrows, his lips trembling—only a touch, but Evan noticed.
“Yes, of course, my lord,” he said, his voice shaking. He went into the back room where the presses were rumbling.
A few moments later, the boy returned with an older man greying at the temples.
“Good evening, my lord. What brings you in at this hour?”
Evan cleared his throat. “I did not realize I needed to have a reason to check on one of my own enterprises.”
“Of course not, my lord.”
“I have had word from a reliable source that a piece of underground erotic literature is being printed here on my presses.”
“I don’t know what material you’re speaking of,” Gunderson said, “but I can assure you that any business we do here is completely legitimate. If any erotic literature is being printed here, you have my assurances that it has been properly paid for, and profit is being made.”
“Let me make something clear, Gunderson. I believe in freedom of expression and all that, but I run a clean operation here, not one that prints what some people consider to be obscene. There are laws against that, you know.”
“Let me check the records, my lord. If we have any clients who are printing material of that nature, what would you like me to do?”
“Cancel the contracts, of course.”
Evan said the words, but in no way did he believe that there was a contract with his business to print such literature. This was going on under the table, and he had a feeling Gunderson knew all about it. Jenkins seemed to be in the clear because he had clearly not warned the night staff that Evan had made inquiries. Whatever was going on, Evan would find out about it and put a stop to it.
“I think I’ll take a look around back and see what’s going to print tonight,” Evan said.
“Absolutely, my lord. The morning journal is about to go to print in a few hours. They haven’t sent over the final copy yet. Right now we’re finishing up a pamphlet printing for the ladies’ garment store on Orchard.”
“Excellent,” Evan said. “I’d like to take a look for quality control. If you could please show me around, I would appreciate it.”
During his tour through the presses, Evan found nothing to indicate that anything untoward was going on. However, something did not sit right with him. Either Gunderson or someone who worked under him was lying. He could feel it in his gut. He had become the businessman he was not only because of his business sense, but also because of his gut instinct. He had learned to trust it.
“Thank you, Gunderson. You seem to be running a tight ship here, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re very welcome, my lord. I take my work here quite seriously.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Evan nodded and left via the back entrance.
His mind was whirling. Though he knew he needed rest, he was agitated and needed to work off some energy. He dismissed his coach, deciding to walk back to his rooming house.
Alexandra invaded his thoughts. Though he’d always thought her beautiful, he’d never known what internal strength she possessed. Unconventional, yes, but who wouldn’t be after the life she had lived?
His cock pulsed. Damn it all. Just what he didn’t need tonight. What the hell? He knew damned well where he could sate his appetite. There was a high-class gaming hall and brothel nearby, and he hadn’t frequented the place in a while. He turned off the road to his hotel and ambled toward the seedier section of the city.
“Evening, sir,” a long-haired boy said. “Care for a bit of reading material?”
“Thank you, no,” Evan replied.
“Sure you do, old bloke. This is a free sample. If you like it, you can find it in several places in Bath and in London.” The boy pushed a paper into Evan’s hand and walked swiftly away.
Evan shoved it in his pocket and continued to the gaming hall. He entered, ordered a brandy, and looked around. No shortage of beautiful women here, but for some strange reason none of them appealed to him. He was looking for a tall woman with chestnut hair, sparkling brown eyes, and the most luscious breasts he’d ever been privileged to see. And she certainly wasn’t here.
He sighed and gulped down the rest of his brandy. As he got up to leave, the paper the young boy had handed him crunched in his pocket. He pulled it out and held it up to the lamp on his table. He squinted to read the calligraphic title.
The Ruby.
Confessions of La
dy Prudence
by Madame O
My skin was so tight, my nerves so tingly. I eased Hattie’s drawers over her hips and then disposed of mine as well. She had a triangle of honey-blond curls over her mound, and I ached to run my fingers through their softness.
Instead, I pressed against her in a soft hug and whispered, “Would you lie with me on my bed? Kiss me some more?”
She nodded hesitantly.
I took her hands, and together we lay down atop my quilt. I took her into my arms and pressed my mouth to hers. She opened for me quickly, thrust her tongue into my mouth. Pure heaven, Amelia, kissing her. She might not have had much experience, but kissing came very naturally to her.
We ate at each other’s mouths, sighing, moaning, swirling our tongues around each other’s, sucking and licking. My quim grew wetter and wetter, and my nipples hardened again, aching for her twisting fingertips. She hadn’t yet tasted my nipples, but I could no longer stay away from the sweet heaven that beckoned me.
I broke our kiss with a loud smack. “Hattie?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I should like very much to kiss you…other places.”
“Like what? My cheek?”
I gave her cheek a playful peck, laughing. “Silly. No. Your cunny. That beautiful heaven between your legs. I should very much like to kiss it the way I was kissing your mouth.”
“My lady, that cannot possibly be…”
“Be what? Any fun?” I let out a giggle. “I assure you it is wonderful.”
“But why would you want to do that? There are much better places to kiss me.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” I slid downward on the bed and spread her lovely long legs. Her cunt glistened with nectar, and my own pussy throbbed.
I fingered her delicate folds. I tentatively licked her slit from bottom to top.
“Oh!” She gasped and squeezed her thighs against my face.
“Relax, love.” I pushed her thighs apart again. “You taste like springtime. May I please kiss your beautiful cunny?”
Chapter 10
Evan widened his eyes as he read through the page. Such outrageous titles!
Life Among the She-Devils.
The Libidinous Adventures of Miss Constance Cooke.
Confessions of Lady Prudence.
A House Party at the Estate of Lord and Lady Peacock.
Under each title were a few sentences leaning toward the erotic, though not quite obscene. This was a sample, after all.
And down at the bottom, where it always appeared on work printed at his business, was the seal.
Evan shook his head. Whoever was behind this didn’t get any points for intelligence. Any worker worth his salt who wanted to print something in secret would have removed the seal. This “free sample” had definitely come from his printing house. He shoved the paper back in his pocket and raked his fingers through his hair, which was thankfully clean now. He left the hall and started back toward his hotel.
He would deal with this on the morrow.
* * *
Ally felt tons better the next day. After a hearty breakfast and a walk about the grounds, she retired to her chamber for a long hot soak in the tub. Afterward, she dressed in a pink afternoon gown, descended for a light luncheon with Sophie, and then retired to the front parlor with a thick novel. Just as she was engrossed in a spicy scene, the parlor door opened.
“Lady Alexandra, you have a visitor,” Graves said.
Well, at least it wouldn’t be Mr. Landon. “Who is it, Graves?”
“Mr. Nathan Landon, my lady.”
Her stomach lurched. Had he come to tell her good-bye? That had to be it. Why would he come back here wanting more of her after he had seen her at her absolute worst? Perhaps she should refuse to receive him. That would make it easier. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to his rejection.
“I’m afraid I’m not receiving today, Graves. Tell him to send me a written message, and I shall respond in kind.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Graves left, closing the door behind him.
Ally’s nerves skittered. Goodness, just when she was enjoying a restful afternoon. Sophie had gone to her chamber for an afternoon nap, so Ally was basically alone in the large house but for the servants. She hadn’t seen Evan all day. Perhaps he was in Bath on business.
She looked up as the parlor door opened once again.
“My lady, beg pardon,” Graves said, “but Mr. Landon insists upon seeing you. He is being quite persistent. I thought it best to ask again before I had him thrown out.”
What on earth could this be about? She didn’t want him thrown out, so she had no choice. “Fine. Send him in, Graves. But he won’t be staying long.”
Mr. Landon strutted into the parlor, proud as a peacock and dressed in dark green velvet. “My lady, I was fraught with disappointment when you chose not to receive me today.”
“Well, it appears I have received you nonetheless, so no need for disappointment,” she said.
“I wish to see how you are recovering from your carriage accident. I’ve been in a constant state of worry over it.”
She warmed a bit. Perhaps he did still care for her, despite her frazzled appearance the previous day. On the other hand, he was probably just being gentlemanly. Whatever the reason, she must be a good hostess.
“Mr. Landon, it’s a pleasure to see you as always. Thank you for your concern, but I assure you I am completely fine. Just a few bumps and bruises. Our poor coachman did not fare nearly as well. He was thrown and killed on impact. I’m thankful Lord Evan and I were inside the coach. It clearly saved our lives.”
“I am so sorry this horrible incident has befallen you. May I sit?”
“Of course.” Ally nodded to the settee across from where she was sitting.
Mr. Landon instead crossed the room and took a seat next to Ally on the divan. She shuddered for a moment at his closeness. But the quiver was different than what she was used to around Mr. Landon. She trembled not from arousal, but from… Was it fear? Of course not. She had been with Mr. Landon many times before. And she certainly wasn’t feeling the rapid heartbeat of fear or the instinct to run screaming. Since she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling, she chose to ignore it.
“I’m so pleased to see that you have recovered.” Mr. Landon took her hand and lightly brushed his lips over it.
“As you can see, I’m no worse for the wear.” Ally smiled shakily.
Mr. Landon continued to kiss the top of her hand, moving to her wrist and then to her forearm as he rained the gentle kisses over her skin. She gasped, waiting for the goose bumps that usually accompanied his kisses.
They failed to erupt.
Mr. Landon looked up when she drew her hand away.
“My lady, I will be leaving for London tomorrow. I’m planning to attend the remaining balls of the season. I hope very much that I shall see you at one or more of them.”
“Sir, I do believe my stepbrother, sister, and I will be making the trip. I do so look forward to a dance with you.”
“As do I, my beautiful lady.” He took her hand once more and drew it to his lips. Instead of pressing gentle kisses onto her palm, this time he pulled her toward him, caught her in an embrace, and kissed her lips, sliding his tongue along the seam.
She and Mr. Landon had kissed on many occasions, and Ally had never hesitated to open to him. His kisses were smooth and succulent like a fine wine. But what she craved now were Evan’s kisses. His kisses were rough and passionate, raw with power and desire, not so much like a fine wine but more like a hearty Scotch whiskey, that although smooth, burned one’s throat. They were hard and drugging and took all one’s energy, but they were the best experience in the world. Ally would never stop craving Evan’s kisses.
Yet Mr. Landon was the man she intended to marry. So she opened her mouth and accepted his tongue. The kiss was acceptable. More than acceptable, really, considering her experience. In
fact, only three days hence, she had considered his kisses perfect.
Mr. Landon broke away from her lips and kissed her neck, sucking on her pulse point and gliding his tongue over the contours of her neck and shoulder. He grazed over the top of her sleeve, baring more skin and pressing his lips upon it. The experience was pleasant, and yes, it even felt good. And since this was the man she intended to spend her life with, she wanted to experience more. He moved his mouth from her shoulder, down her décolletage, and to the top of her bosom.
“Oh, Lady Alexandra, how beautiful you are,” he said against her skin. “I hunger for you, my darling. Might you grant me one small favor?”
Ally sucked in a breath, and her nipples hardened as she thought of Evan tugging and kissing them. She longed to feel that intensity again. No reason existed to believe that it could only be felt with Evan.
“Mr. Landon…”
“Please, my darling, Nathan.”
Odd, that she still thought of him as Mr. Landon after all this time. He had told her on many occasions to call him by his Christian name, but it had never felt right to Ally. She nearly laughed aloud at the thought. Here, sitting beside her, kissing the tops of her breasts, was the man she intended to marry, and she had never called him by his Christian name. She let out a soft chuckle.
“Is something funny, my lady?”
“No, of course not…Nathan.” She gently cleared her throat. “What favor do you ask of me?”
“Just a glance at your lovely breasts, my lady. I’ve dreamed so long of seeing the beauty you hide beneath your garments.”
Oh, she was tempted. But for Sophie, she was alone in the house. Graves and the others wouldn’t dare barge in. But Evan… If he were home, he would not hesitate. He felt responsible for her. She hadn’t seen him all day, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here.
