by HELEN HARDT
Lady Prudence Spofford. Wasn’t that the name of Alexandra’s friend? This was too similar to be a coincidence. Yes, he’d known that her “friend” never existed. However, he’d never imagined that the name had come from an underground erotic paper printed at his own printing house, no less.
The papers must belong to Alexandra. Where on earth could she have found them? And why would she bring them to London? And why would she have them in the first place? Questions flooded his mind—questions that both confounded and excited him.
Clearly, much existed that he did not know about her. Damn it all. Tonight they had to dine with the St. Clairs. And then later, the ball.
Alexandra was too much for him to handle. He would marry her off, and soon.
He folded the papers and laid them on a table next to the door. “On second thought,” he said to Woods, “I will deal with this myself.”
“I understand completely, my lord,” Woods said with a glint in his eye.
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
Woods chuckled as he closed the door.
* * *
The St. Clair townhome was a bit bigger than the Brighton townhome, but not by much. Vladimir Brooks, the Earl of St. Clair, was a jovial gentleman short of stature but long on humor. His wife, Paula, the countess, was nearly a foot taller than he. She was reserved and quiet, but perfectly friendly. And quite pretty. The St. Clairs’ height difference was even vaster than the difference between Ally’s own parents. Ally had inherited her mother’s height, while Sophie was a bit shorter, clearly inheriting her height from their father’s side.
Marvella Brooks, the daughter of the Earl and Countess of St. Clair, was betrothed to Evan’s older brother, Jacob. She was pretty but also reserved and quiet like her mother. No doubt she would make a good Countess of Brighton, a title currently held by Ally’s own mother.
Jacob looked like an older and slightly smaller version of Evan himself. Though he was fair of face, he did not have Evan’s incredible physique. Ally had only met Jacob and Marvella once, at the wedding, and hadn’t spoken to either of them for any length of time. They were both quiet and reserved, possessing genteel natures.
Also joining them was John Brooks, the earl’s son and heir. Thankfully, he too had inherited his mother’s height. He was dark of hair and eyes, and had the jovial personality of his father.
They were all very friendly and made Ally feel welcome in their home. Oddly, at dinner, Ally was seated next to John Brooks rather than next to Evan. He was very attentive, keeping her wine glass filled and engaging her in conversation.
“I do hope you’ll save me a dance at the ball this evening, Lady Alexandra.”
“Indeed, I would be delighted.”
It wasn’t totally an untruth. Viscount Brooks was handsome—not Evan handsome, but who was?—and she might enjoy a dance with him. But she couldn’t take her eyes off of her goal. Dances with too many others, and she would lose her focus on Mr. Landon. She had to find a way to get him alone so he could compromise her. On top of that, she had to arrange for someone to see them.
“Tell me,” Brooks said, “why have you not been around this whole season?”
“My sister, Sophie, and I decided to skip the season this year. When our mother became betrothed to the Earl of Brighton, we stayed at the estate in Wiltshire to help her plan the small wedding.”
“And your sister? Why did she not accompany you to London this trip?”
“Oh, London is of not much interest to her.”
“Is she as lovely as you are?”
Alexandra caught her breath. Brooks was flirting with her. She had not expected such. But why not? He was unmarried, and so was she. And he did have a title. But Alexandra knew little about the monetary values of titles. Many of England’s aristocrats were actually penniless, as her own father had been. They looked to find wives with healthy dowries for that very reason. Thanks to her new stepfather, Ally now had a dowry.
She looked around the informal dining room. It was elegantly decorated in cherry with gilt-edged wallpaper and dark cherry crown molding. The china from which they took the repast was bone white with silver trim. Their tablecloth was fine tatted lace.
No, the St. Clairs did not appear to be in any type of financial straits. Still, Ally had her sights set on Mr. Landon. Very few peers were as wealthy as he, and she had already put a lot of time into her conquest. Starting over now would be a waste of her valuable time.
Evan, who sat across the table from her, hardly looked her way. He talked estate business with his brother and the earl. Ally found it odd that Brooks did not join in, but he seemed content to engage in small talk with her. However, she was finding it tiring. By the time the cheese tray arrived, she was uncomfortable and really wanted to leave.
When the dreaded meal finally ended, she looked forward to a few moments to chat with the ladies while the men retired for cigars and port. However, Brooks came up behind her and touched her on the elbow.
She turned. “Yes?”
“Lady Alexandra, I would be most pleased if you would accompany me to the back terrace.”
“Don’t you intend to join the gentlemen for a cigar?”
“Honestly, I never did develop the taste for tobacco. And I find port far too sweet. I do enjoy a good cognac, but frankly, I would relish the chance to talk to you a bit more and get to know you better.”
Ally fidgeted. Really, she should not accompany him. They would be unchaperoned, although this was his residence. Of course, when had she let the lack of a chaperone stop her?
“I’m afraid it would not be proper, my lord. Lord Evan would never allow it.” At least that was the truth.
“My lady, it was Lord Evan’s idea.”
“What?” Ally clenched her fists at her side, her breathing coming faster. Evan? Stiff and conventional Evan? And then it hit her like an anvil punching her in the stomach.
He had been serious. He meant to marry her off. So that was why Brooks had been so attentive at dinner.
“Why, yes. He suggested that I show you the terrace. In fact, he insisted upon it.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Ally smiled sweetly. “Then we mustn’t disappoint him.” She tucked her arm in his. “Please, my lord, I would love to accompany you to the terrace. I’m sure it will be most enchanting.”
* * *
Evan’s insides twisted as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw John Brooks leading Alexandra to the back terrace. Why had he thought for a moment that she would refuse him? Of course she wouldn’t. He was a first son, heir to a title and to the money and estate the title commanded.
Evan hadn’t had a chance to peruse The Ruby yet, and he couldn’t be sure the papers did belong to Alexandra. But where else would she have gotten the name Prudence Spofford? It was hardly a common name. Damn it all to hell. She did seem to know a lot about the pleasures of the flesh. Yet she had been a virgin when they coupled. She had bled, and she had gasped upon his entrance. Although he had never deflowered a virgin before, he was very experienced in the act itself, and he had felt the difference, a slight hesitation, when he entered her for the first time.
So how could a virgin learn about such acts? Her two cousins, both of whom she was very close to, had recently married. They could have told her everything.
Or she could have learned it from this type of literature. Underground papers were more common than the average person might realize. Being in the printing and publishing business, Evan had come across his share of them. None, of course, that had been printed at his own house but for this one.
His guts twisted again. And he had sent her outside to be mauled by John Brooks.
He willed his stomach to settle. Brooks was an honorable man. Evan had no reason to believe he would act improperly. He truly wanted to be free of the albatross around his neck that was Alexandra. Marrying her off was the easiest and best way to accomplish this. So why did the idea make him want to punch every suitor that came near her into oblivio
n?
He should have resisted her. He shouldn’t have made love to her when they were stranded. He’d fooled himself into thinking that he was only doing it because they were alone, facing starvation, trapped in a foggy storm.
But that had been a lie. He had wanted to make love to her, plain and simple. She touched a part of him that no woman had. Several months ago, when he was courting Lady Rose Jameson, Rose had attempted to seduce him. He had been tempted, yes. He was human, after all, and Rose was a beautiful woman. But he had resisted.
He hadn’t been able to resist Alexandra.
He must find her a husband and quickly. If he did not, he had no idea what might happen between them.
And there was still the chance that he might have gotten her with child. If that were the case, they would have to marry.
Part of him hoped he had gotten her with child. Part of him wanted to marry Alexandra.
And that part scared the hell out of him.
“Are you coming, Xavier?” St. Clair slapped him on the back.
Evan looked down at the shorter man. “In a moment, perhaps. I’d like to get a little fresh air first.”
“Of course, of course. Just join us when you’re ready.” St. Clair retired to the cigar room.
Evan made haste toward the doors leading to the back terrace. Whatever was starting between Alexandra and Brooks, he was going to stop it. If Brooks was going to marry his stepsister, he would do so as a gentleman. Evan would not allow any liberties.
He walked out onto the terrace, inhaling the London night air. He wrinkled his nose. How he’d much rather be back in Wiltshire on the estate where the air was fresh and clean. He looked around. Where were Alexandra and Brooks? Had they descended onto the lawn? His heart thrummed wildly. Had he dragged her into a dark corner? Was he compromising her at this very moment?
His skin tightened around him and his muscles tensed. This would not happen. He marched across the terrace and down the stairs. “Alexandra!” he called.
Nothing.
He walked around the yard, his pulse racing, looking for any clue. Where in God’s name was she? What had he done with her? His gut tightened. If that rake had done anything to her, by God, Evan would see him in hell.
When he had searched every crevice of the lawn, he doubled around to the front of the house, searching there. He finally gave up and went back inside. The butler showed him to the smoking room.
“St. Clair, where in hell is that son of yours?”
“Xavier, I’m glad you decided to join us. John is right here.”
Evan looked farther into the room, and there sat John Brooks, puffing on a cigar.
“I thought you were with Lady Alexandra.” Evan calmed his rapid breathing.
“Only for a moment,” Brooks said. “She decided to join the ladies. But I must tell you, Xavier, she is an absolute delight. Thank you for introducing me to her.”
Evan breathed a huge sigh of relief. “You’re quite welcome. Now, it would be my pleasure to take you up on that glass of port.”
* * *
Ally smiled to herself. John Brooks was a gentleman—too much of a gentleman for her taste really. Their short walk had been pleasant, but then she had decided to join the ladies. After a grueling hour of trying to make small talk with Marvella and the countess—nice women but not gifted in the art of conversation—she was exhausted. Now, back at the Brighton townhome, Ally lay on her bed relaxing for a few blissful moments before getting ready for the ball.
Brooks was handsome, but his presence did not stir her. In fact, Mr. Landon’s presence had failed to stir her the last time they had met. It seemed she was only stirred by one man these days—Evan.
Still, her sights were set on Mr. Landon. His fortune was greater than most peers in England, and he had businesses all over the world. With him, she could travel, see everything the world had to offer, experience life to its fullest. The title meant nothing to her. Her mother had possessed a title—the Countess of Longarry—and what had that title gotten her? A life of abuse and near poverty. No, Ally cared not about title.
For a moment, she considered the fate of her cousin Rose. Rose had fallen in love with a commoner, Cameron Price, and had been ready to live with him as his peasant wife. However, fate had intervened when Cameron found out that he was the grandson of the Marquess of Denbigh. Now the Earl of Thornton and heir to the Denbigh Marquessate, Cameron, while by far not the richest peer in England, was well enough to do, and Rose would never have to live as a peasant.
Mr. Landon, though related to the Duke of Lybrook on his mother’s side, was indeed a commoner—a commoner with immense wealth, and Ally meant to have it all.
A knock on the door startled Ally. She rose to answer it. Mary stood before her.
“I have a message for you, my lady.” Mary held out the parchment.
Ally swiftly took the paper. “Thank you, Mary. Please return in ten minutes’ time to help me prepare for the ball.”
Mary curtsied politely and left.
Ally opened the parchment and widened her eyes.
No, it couldn’t be.
Confessions of Lady Prudence
by Madame O
Lars’s cheeks reddened and a spray of light freckles became apparent across his nose, making him look younger than his years. Oh, Amelia, such timidity! It aroused me all the more. I had to have his tongue upon me, and soon.
“Yes, please, Lars,” I said. “Do lick me, I beg of you.”
Lars stood, seemingly paralyzed, yet his erection was still apparent beneath his britches. It took all my strength not to push down his trousers and stroke him to climax.
“Lady Prudence has asked a favor of you,” Christophe said slyly. “It would be bad form not to comply. After all, her aunt is responsible for your employment.”
“Do you not find me attractive, Lars?” I asked.
“I… I…find you beautiful, my lady. What man wouldn’t find you to his liking? You are indeed lovely.”
“I assure you I am loveliest in the secret place between my legs.” I winked seductively. “Please, Lars, I have already begged you. Must I get down on my knees?”
Lars’s lips trembled as he again reddened even further. “Yes… If you would get on your knees, it would please me.”
“But then how would you—”
Christophe placed his hand over my mouth. “He wants you to submit, my lady. Some men find that arousing.”
And suddenly I wanted nothing more than to please this newcomer. I fell to my knees. I had no idea what he had in mind, but my curiosity was piqued and my body ablaze.
“Does this please you?” I asked.
Lars smiled, the red on his cheeks now as fiery as the pulses between my legs.
“You do look lovely on your knees, my lady.”
“What is it that you wish of me?”
“Turn around,” he said. “Unbuckle Monsieur Bertrand’s trousers and suck his cock while I watch. I will lick you from behind.”
I complied, and Christophe stood in front of me, smiling wickedly. I unbuckled him. When his cock sprang free, I licked its tip and nearly bit down when I felt the soft slide of a tongue in the crease of my arse. Within seconds, Lars had positioned himself between my thighs as I knelt, and he began to work on my quivering quim.
I ground into Lars’s face as I worked Christophe’s member with my mouth.
“Yes, yes,” Christophe said, his breathing rapid. “Does that feel good when he licks your little pussy? Do you like my hard cock in your mouth?”
I grunted and groaned, wanting to shout, “Yes, yes!” But of course my mouth was full. I continued to writhe on top of Lars’s face, my orgasm imminent. And when I burst, Christophe spurted into my mouth, his fluid coating my throat.
Amelia, I cannot tell you how aroused I was at that very moment! And I had yet to have a cock inside my pussy. But these two men were not going to leave before that happened.
Chapter 14
Ally quic
kly folded the parchment, slid it between the pages of a book on the shelf, and vowed not to think about its contents. Nothing could be done now anyway. She had to prepare for the ball.
How she wished she had a gown that would turn all eyes toward her, like her cousin Lily’s red velvet gown the night of her betrothal announcement. Because she’d left the estate so quickly, she hadn’t had time to summon the modiste. Alas, she would have to make do with her lavender silk, which her new stepfather had gifted her with after his engagement to her mother. He had given Sophie a ball gown as well, in colors accenting her own.
Mary arrived shortly and laced and tightened Ally’s corset.
“Mary, tighten it more around my bosom. I want to push it up so my cleavage is more apparent.”
Mary shook her head. “I do not advise that, my lady.”
“I understand. My sister would not advise it either. However, I have an agenda this evening, and showing a little more bosom than usual will help it along. So please do as I ask.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Mary tightened the corset until Ally had achieved her desired effect. Together they got Ally into the ball gown, and then Mary arranged her hair in a lovely upswept style with a few curly ringlets hanging about her neck.
“Oh, my lady.” Mary breathed in. “I can’t say I agree with showing so much bosom, but my goodness, you do look breathtaking.”
“Thank you very much for your assistance.” Ally smiled. “I am very pleased with the result.”
Mary curtsied and left, and Ally sat down on a settee, wringing her white gloves between her fingers. Had she made a mistake this evening with Viscount Brooks? He was pleasing to the eye, polite and intelligent, and heir to a title. Probably not as wealthy as Mr. Landon, but by virtue of the London townhome, the St. Clair estate appeared to be in good condition. Any other time, Ally would have been thrilled by the attentions of such a worthy suitor.
But she hadn’t been able to shake the thought that Evan had put Brooks up to the courtship. Of course, it wasn’t a courtship. It was simply a walk on the terrace. Would he have tried to take a liberty? The question was moot now, because Ally had ended the encounter before she could find out.
