Her Wicked Proposal: The League of Rogues, Book 3

by Lauren Smith

  Every muscle in Anne’s body tensed. They had to be talking about Cedric. What were the odds of another blind man in a library in Brighton? Were they going to laugh at him? If they did, so help them… Her husband had survived enough and didn’t deserve to endure any mockery of his condition.

  The other woman blushed and ducked her head, her bonnet hiding her face from view. “Such a handsome man.”

  “Wasn’t he? And his friend, the blond-haired gentleman…” She sighed wistfully. “But I could not possibly ask to be introduced to a stranger. Such a pity.” The ladies disappeared around a back row of bookshelves.

  Anne relaxed, collected herself, and hastened the way the ladies had come. She found her husband and his friend seated in a pair of chairs by a reading table. Cedric leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he spoke to Ashton. When she came into view, Ashton looked to her, then back to Cedric. Cedric continued to speak, unaware of her approach behind him.

  “It’s a new world, Ash. Believe me, marriage is surprisingly wonderful. Are you sure you don’t want to give it a go?”

  Ashton’s lips twitched as he put a finger to his lips to indicate Anne should remain silent. She paused a few feet away, holding her breath.

  “And what exactly is so wonderful about it? I admit, I’m quite intrigued by your newfound eagerness.” Ashton flashed her a wink, and she fought to contain a giggle.

  Cedric leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  “There’s nothing better than having the most beautiful creature in your bed at any time you please. Much better than a mistress. And I’m sure my wife would agree—access to me at all times is a benefit of leg-shackledom.”

  Cedric’s smug tone sparked a reaction in Anne that was half amusement, half exasperation.

  “Wouldn’t you agree, lady wife?” Cedric chuckled and turned his head in her direction.

  “Oh! You beastly man.” Anne laughed and rushed over to him, swatting his shoulder with a gloved hand. When he tugged her over to his chair and onto his lap, she squeaked in surprise. “You knew I was there the whole time, didn’t you?”

  Cedric nodded, that playful grin making her melt. She adored the way he unleashed that smile on her without holding back.

  “Your scent, remember?” He nuzzled her cheek. “It gives you away.”

  For a long moment, she surrendered to his embrace, loving the feel of his arms around her, cuddling her close to him.

  An old woman with a bonnet covered in wilting ostrich feathers gasped at them as she rounded a bookshelf and spied Anne on Cedric’s lap, his arms wrapped around her.

  “This is a library,” she said, clearly scandalized.

  “Pardon me, madam,” Cedric replied politely. “But my wife and I require some privacy. Sod off.”

  The old woman bristled and thumped the top of her parasol on the wooden floor.

  “How dare you, sirrah!” she blustered and left.

  “Oh dear,” Ashton said, laughing. “That was Lady Beach, you know. One of Prinny’s acquaintances.”

  Cedric snorted and hugged Anne even closer. “Lady Beach be damned. I want to hold my wife.”

  Anne glanced about, making sure no one else was watching them before she kissed Cedric’s cheek. It was something she hadn’t yet tired of, this delightful ability to touch him, kiss him, whenever she wanted. The man had been right about the benefits of marriage.

  “How was your dress shopping, love?”

  “Fine, thank you. Lady Pickering was there. We are invited to dine tonight at their house. Is that all right? She’s such a dear. I didn’t want to refuse her.”

  “Lady Pickering,” Cedric mused. “Second mother if I ever had one. Always trying to fatten me up.”

  Anne sobered. “Yes, well, she’s right to. You’ve grown too slender, husband. I don’t like it. If I must become a meddlesome, bothersome wife to take care of you, then I shall.”

  “If telling me to eat more is your idea of being bothersome, then I adore you even more.” Cedric began to nibble on her ear, and Anne shivered. Desire blasted through her like bolt of lightning.

  “Well, I shall leave you two to peruse Donaldson’s a bit,” said Ashton. “A ship of mine just came into port and I need to check on it. Shall I meet you back at the house after dinner this evening?”

  Anne sat up. “I’m sure Lady Pickering would love for you to join us.”

  Ashton waved a hand. “She is a wonderful woman, but I’m afraid I must see to business and it may take more time than expected. Send Lady Pickering my regards.”

  As Ashton departed, something inside her sighed a little. Lord Lennox was an enigma. He always seemed to be alone, save for the other members of the League.

  “What’s the matter, Anne? I can hear you thinking.” Cedric jostled her a little in his arms to get her attention.

  “I’m worried about Lord Lennox. He seems so lonely at times. So focused on his work.”

  Cedric’s blank eyes betrayed no emotion, but his smile wilted a little.

  “Ash is a very complex man. You know what they say, still waters run deep.”

  “Have you known him all your life?” Anne had to admit the League of Rogues had always fascinated her. Five wealthy, powerful noblemen who eschewed society’s formalities and made vices their mistresses. It should have been a topic she’d avoided to contemplate, yet she couldn’t resist. But she felt her knowledge of their pasts and relationships was likely based on rumor and The Quizzing Glass Gazette more than truth.

  “We met at Cambridge. I had seen him around the grounds of Magdalene College, but we hadn’t been formally introduced. He and Lucien were friends, and Godric and I were friends. We were two separate pairs, if that makes sense,” he chuckled.

  “What about Charles? How did you all finally meet, and where does he come in?”

  Cedric’s expression shuttered closed, and Anne didn’t press him.

  “There was one night, in the late fall, Godric and I were sneaking back to our rooms. We saw someone drowning in the river and a friend of ours, Peter Wellsley, was trying to save him. Two other men, I later found out they were Ashton and Lucien, joined Godric and I as we dove into the river to save the drowning man, which was Charles, and assist Peter. Charles had been bound hand and foot, and Peter helped me cut him loose. We saved Charles, but Peter…he didn’t make it. He stayed beneath the water too long trying to hold Charles up. The loss was a great one to all of us. Peter was one of Charles’s dearest friends, and one the rest of us knew well. After that night, we five became inseparable. Bonds of grief can do that.”

  Little puzzles pieces seem to slide into place for Anne. “Charles is the key that holds you all together?”

  For a moment Cedric said nothing, as if matters couldn’t be so easily summed up as that. “At first. But over time each of us formed close ties to one another. There is nothing like knowing a man who has fought through hell and back beside you to solidify a bond.”

  Cedric’s cheeks were a little ruddy with embarrassment, but she loved him for it. Loved the way he loved his friends. Not many men, or women, could boast of such a close connection.

  “And Mr. St. Laurent? Godric’s brother?”

  “Jonathan?” Cedric chuckled. “He’s is a welcome addition to our number. That reminds me.” His tone turned serious. “Anne, how would you feel about selling your father’s house in London? Jonathan is interested in settling down and is considering courting Audrey, at least according to Ashton. I gave him my blessing and thought we might help him out a bit.” Cedric paused, then took a deep breath before continuing. “I thought, perhaps, if you agreed, we might sell it to Jonathan. I would love to see that house filled with love and children, but if you wish to keep it, we will. The choice is yours.”

  Anne’s eyes stung. Her father…in the past few weeks she had been so happ
y that she’d almost forgotten. And it moved her that Cedric would ask her what she wanted to do. Once they married, all of her property had become his. He could have sold the home without asking her, but he hadn’t.

  It was a tempting thought, to keep the house. But it was better to let it go. If it went to Jonathan, and perhaps Audrey, they would see the house frequently enough, and it was as he’d said—it would be filled with love and children.

  “If Mr. St. Laurent is interested, then we should. I will trust you to see to the arrangements.”

  “Excellent. I can have Ashton write him a letter and, if he’s amenable to it, we can get my solicitor to draw up the paperwork.”

  “Thank you.” She meant it. To show him, she leaned into him, curling her arms around his neck and kissing him thoroughly, despite the public nature of where they were. He groaned at her assertive kiss and returned it, but all too soon had to pull them apart.

  “I wish we could continue this, my heart, but Lady Beach will not be our last unwelcome spectator if we do not go home at once. Some enterprising scamp might start selling tickets.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle as she climbed off his lap.

  “Then by all means, husband, summon a coach.”

  “As you wish.” His lips curved into that smile that had won her heart the very first time she’d seen him. Only this time, it was even brighter because it was full of love. For a moment she was unexpectedly afraid.

  What if I were to lose him now? My heart is too tightly bound to his. If he were to go, so would I. If any other woman would have told Anne she’d felt that way about a man, Anne would have thought she was being melodramatic, but now she understood. A deeper connection was forged by two hearts and it could not be easily broken.

  She slipped her arm in his as they left Donaldson’s Library. Swallowing hard, she tried to think about something else. The dinner tonight. That would be wonderful and fun. Yes, the dinner. Everything would be fine. If only something inside her didn’t keep worrying that she was going to lose Cedric forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster, was it?” Cedric chuckled as he climbed into his coach across from Anne.

  Anne grinned. “No, it wasn’t. You did wonderfully.” She held something in her arms, something Cedric could not see. It was a surprise for him, one she and Lady Pickering were quite excited about. They had managed to smuggle it all the way to the coach without Cedric suspecting anything.

  “Why don’t you come sit by me, lady wife?” he suggested with a brow raised in that rakish way of his.

  It took all her self-control not to giggle. It had been a long while since she’d given something to someone she cared about. Her heart beat faster as she finally spoke.

  “All right.” She joined him on his side of the enclosed coach and let him pull her against his side. When he leaned in closer, he froze, nostrils flaring. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

  “I smell…” He paused, sniffed, then his hands moved from her waist to her arms. When he encountered the bundle she cradled to her bosom, he stiffened.

  “Anne, are you…is that a dog?” He tilted his head to one side. The deep rumble of his voice stirred the creature awake. The puppy in her arms stretched, yawned and licked Cedric’s fingers, which had brushed against the pup’s wet nose.

  “Lady Pickering’s favorite King Charles spaniel had a litter two months ago. She thought we might like one. She said your mother loved King Charles spaniels.” Anne prayed he wasn’t upset. Cedric had given her so much and she wanted to give something to him in return. He couldn’t go hunting and large dog wouldn’t have been happy in the house. A smaller spaniel was perfect. The dog would be a companion to Cedric, one who could follow him and keep him in good spirits.

  “Did you know that I bought Emily a dog?” Cedric’s lips hinted at a barely there smile.

  “Why…er…yes. I remember she told me about her foxhound, Penelope.” She paused. “I swear my intentions are entirely different.”

  Cedric’s rich laugh warmed her. “If you got me a dog to keep me from escaping you, I would take that as a compliment, my dear. Now, show me the little scamp.” He opened his hands and Anne passed along the sleepy bundle. It had woken during their discussion and wriggled in Cedric’s arms as he took it. Watching him cuddle the white and cinnamon-brown pup to his chest filled Anne with such love.

  “My mother’s last spaniel before she died was an energetic chap. Forrest was his name. I always liked the little fellow. What do you think, love? Does he look like a Forrest?” Cedric ruffled the dog’s ears with a playful smile. Even though he could not see the dog, he was evidently enthralled with the pup already.

  “Yes, he looks like a Forrest.” She covered her mouth with a gloved hand. To be so happy…she couldn’t believe it. Wherever her father was, she hoped he could see that she was all right, that she’d found her place in the world at this man’s side.

  “When we get home, this little chap is going to a basket to sleep and you, lady wife, will be seeing to your duties in our bed.”

  The cheek of such words would have enraged her had any other man said them, but when they came from Cedric it lit her blood and made her body yearn.

  “If I see to my duties, then you must see to yours.” She couldn’t resist teasing him.

  His rakehell grin sent her pulse into a mad gallop. The coach stopped, and when the footman came to open the doors, Anne smiled when she recognized Sean Hartley.

  “Sean? That you?” Cedric held out the dog to him. “Take little Forrest here and put him in a basket in your chambers. I’ll take charge of him in the morning. My wife and I will be occupied the rest of the night.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Sean took the dog with a smile and stroked its ears. He gave a quick glance to Anne and she returned a nod, encouraging him to do as he was bid.

  As she and Cedric entered the house they found the servants were scarce, as though sensing the need for privacy for their master and mistress.

  “Take me to the drawing room,” Cedric commanded.

  Anne slipped her hand into his and led him. He used his cane to sweep across the carpets. Anne pushed the door open, revealing the rich Tudor decorations and the plush red settee facing a black marble fireplace. Wooden beams, intricately carved, curved up in fluted shapes over the molded ceilings. Red damask drapes covered the tall windows, and moonlight peeped through the thin slits of the mostly closed curtains. Despite the fact that no fire was lit, the room felt cozy, even if it was dark.

  Cedric began to lead her, as though he knew the whereabouts of the room’s furniture by heart. He stopped in front of the settee and turned her to face away from him.

  “It is dark, isn’t it?” he asked. His tone was soft, low and dangerously seductive.

  Anne swallowed before replying. “Yes, quite dark.”

  “Good. I want you to close your eyes. I’m going to make love to you and I want you to feel it as I do, with sensations and sounds, but no sight.”

  “But—”

  “Close your eyes.” The dark command from him flooded her belly with welcome heat. “You and I will share the darkness together. Feel it, embrace it.” He slid one hand around her waist to cover her stomach. His large powerful grip was firm and possessive, and the heavy warm breath against her ear was thick with forbidden carnality.

  “Lift your left leg and place your foot on the cushion of the settee,” he murmured before he kissed the shell of her ear, then nibbled on the lobe.

  Anne, lulled into his seductive spell, leaned back against his body as she raised her leg. She had to tug her skirts up to her knees to do so, which seemed to be exactly what her husband desired.

  His palm remained on her stomach, holding her against him, while his other hand settled on her knee, then began to glide over her stockings and peel her skirts even higher
up to her waist. He stroked her bare inner left thigh, which with her leg propped up, gave him easy access to her. It was a struggle to keep her eyes closed as he touched her. There, in the darkness, they were together, and every sense was heightened.

  “Breathe with me.” Cedric’s fingers had reached the apex of her thighs. He parted the undergarments and stroked the wet lips of her sex.

  Anne breathed in, feeling him do the same behind her. One of his fingers slipped between the slick folds of her mound and penetrated her. Her hips jerked against his hand and she whimpered in erotic delight.

  “Hold your skirts up,” he whispered. Her hands, which had been fairly useless, latched onto the white crepe and sarsnet slip. The black wreaths on the bottom of her skirt whispered as she dug her fingers into the silk.

  “Cedric,” she murmured as he continued to thrust that single finger into her, playing with her body as though reveling in his power to torture her with pleasure.

  He rocked his hips into her from behind. “What do you feel?” The hard pressure of his arousal dug into her lower back.

  “You,” she groaned.

  His deep laugh made her quiver around his teasing, tormenting finger.

  “Besides me, little hellion. What else do you feel?”

  She focused on breathing as her body began to dance toward a climax.

  “My blood is pumping, hard. I can feel my heartbeat everywhere,” she confessed. “And my breath, I can’t get enough. I need you.”

  He nipped her neck and slid a second finger inside her, curling the tips of his fingers and brushing over some secret spot deep inside her that made stars dart behind her closed lids.

  “Let go, darling. I’m here to catch you.” He coaxed her into the explosion of her release, and she couldn’t even scream.

  He had barely touched her, yet this time she seemed connected to him on a level she hadn’t thought possible. Her eyes were still closed and all she had were sensations. The rough pads of his fingers, the warm breath on her neck, the hard body pinning her back against it. The roar of blood in her ears as her climax continued long afterward. This was how it felt for him, when they came together. Pure sensation. There was so much she wanted to say, but couldn’t seem to find the words. Her eyes flew open.