by Lavinia Kent
“Even if that is true, what of her child? Surely you know that even if she were to marry now, the baby’s presence will be questioned.”
“It would not be the first time. Yes, there would be talk, but after a few months that type of scandal dies down. Society is always ready to accept a good story about true love—as long as it ends in marriage between two people of the proper class.”
Derek continued, “And if the father is already married? That is the easiest explanation for why there could not be a marriage.”
Or he was not of good station—a servant perhaps. She did not like to think that would be sufficient reason for Jasmine to refuse marriage, but Ruby had never hidden from reality. It was actually more than enough reason. Jasmine might be better off as a scandalous unwed mother than married to a footman. “I know you are right. It is the most likely answer, but I cannot imagine she would ever have indulged with a married man.”
“Perhaps she did not know. Or perhaps she was forced. It would not be the first time such a thing happened.”
“I do not think so.” She spoke slowly. It was always hard to be sure of such things, but the girl seemed stubborn, not traumatized. “I believe she has her own reasons for not wishing to talk, but I will ask again. There must be some solution to her problem.”
Derek brushed her cheek again. “You always do look at the bright side, my love.”
“I try to. It makes life easier. There will always be disappointment, but I prefer to look upon tomorrow with hope.”
He leaned down and brushed her ear with his lips, whispering, “It is one of the things that I love best about you.”
She glanced about. She had decided that no longer would Derek be her secret. Now that she was planning her departure, it seemed needless, and she was sure that her staff and her girls had already begun to guess. It was rather impossible to keep his nightly visits a secret. “I do wish we had time for you to show me just how much you care.”
“You are insatiable.”
“Only with you.”
He looked down at her, his eyes warm and trusting. And that was what she loved about him. He believed her. It might seem a small thing, but she’d known plenty of men who would have assumed that because of her profession she’d be wanton. Derek had accepted from the beginning that she was actually extremely careful when she chose a lover and that no other man had ever made her feel the way he did. Granted, the man had a healthy ego and was probably all too content to know that he was special.
“And what brought that look to your face?” he whispered again.
“I was just thinking that I love you too.”
He looked skeptical but did not question.
She approached the door to the south parlor and, giving a light tap to the door, entered without waiting for a reply.
The three lords were arrayed about the room. Swanston stood by the fire, staring down into it. Duldon sat upon the settee, legs spread wide, staring up at the ceiling. Colton paced across the back of the room, clearly impatient for their interview.
“Gentlemen, how can I help you?” she asked.
Swanston lifted his head to stare at her. “I think it is rather how we can help you—and you do know what I am talking about, Ruby.” He caught sight of Derek and nodded to him.
“Are we back to this?” she asked.
Again Swanston spoke. “Yes, we are—although with a slight change. We have met and discussed it and we are quite determined that we wish to help. I believe you should sell Madame Rouge’s to us. If we pool our funds, it is not even a large expense for any one of us.”
“But you will be left owning a brothel. It hardly seems a gentleman’s profession.”
Duldon answered, “As to that, we have decided that we will hire a manager. Surely you have some woman you can recommend.”
“That is the problem.” She did not look at Derek. “I have not managed to find one that I am satisfied with. I had even considered retaining ownership and having somebody else manage Madame Rouge’s, but the women I have spoken to are either not interested or not suitable.” She could only hope that none of them pushed her on what was not suitable about the prospects. It would be hard to explain that she hadn’t found anybody who would care for her girls and understand their problems. It had actually been a little shocking to discuss the matter with other madames and discover just how different her own views were. While she accepted that most of her girls would never escape this life, she also knew that they all had dreams—and responsibilities. No woman came to work at Madame Rouge’s because she thought it would be fun and a lark.
For some reason Jasmine entered her mind. Her circumstances were not far removed from several of the girls Ruby had taken in over the years. She could only hope that her sister would find a brighter future.
Duldon spoke again, interrupting her thoughts. “I am sure that we can find someone. I know that you care about your girls and that you want to maintain certain standards, but with the funds we can supply, surely that should not be too great a problem.”
Colton turned and strode toward her. “And we do not just make the offer from the kindness of our hearts. We care about the services that you provide, beyond your girls. No other place in London offers quite—”
“I do appreciate your offer, but I am not prepared to make my choice yet. I promise I will consider it, but I really am hoping to find an individual who will—”
“Not Thorton,” Swanston interrupted.
“No, definitely not Thorton, although I have not yet dashed his hopes. I would rather keep him…keep him pleasant for as long as possible.”
Derek spoke for the first time. “I can understand that, although I do not like having him here. I would just as soon you told him the truth and we were done with it.”
“Still, it is my decision, and I wish to wait. I do not want to have any more trouble than I already do.” She tried to put as much force into her voice as possible.
All four men stared at her with disapproval. It was time to bring this meeting to an end, and it had definitely been a mistake to include Derek. Including him in her life and her decisions was definitely something she wanted, but she did not want to see, not in any way, the look of frustration that marked his face. The more they talked about it, the less understanding he seemed to have of how she felt about selling Madame Rouge’s.
“You will consider our offer?” Swanston asked, meeting her gaze levelly. Of all the men here, he seemed to have the most understanding of her feelings, even if that did not change his desire to have his own way. The man had an even greater need for control than she did.
That she could answer honestly. “Yes, I will definitely consider it. I know I need to make a decision, and I promise to consider all offers—”
“Except Thorton’s,” Colton broke in.
“I will consider even his. I just cannot think what would change my feelings about it—and him.”
Swanston looked from one of his friends to the other and then back at Ruby. “We will accept that, for now.”
He tried to sound ominous, but Ruby had known him for too long. He would never bully a woman. “I do thank you for your offer. Somehow I will find the right answer in the midst of all this.” She took a step to the door. “May I have drinks sent in? I cannot imagine that you have any need of my other services.”
It was Duldon who spoke up. “Actually, I would love a drink and a few quiet moments. Bliss’s mother is visiting to help set up the nursery, and I confess I would far rather be here than there.”
Ruby smiled, then her thoughts turned to her sister. No mother was helping to set up her nursery.
Colton nodded to her but said, “I am afraid I must be off. I promised I’d take Angela on a drive to Richmond.”
“I’ll join Duldon for one drink,” Swanston said. He turned to Derek. “And you, Captain Price. Will you join us for a whiskey?”
Ruby paused. She did not wish to indulge in the discussion with Derek that she knew was to
follow, but neither did she wish to leave him alone drinking with the gentlemen. Who knew what secrets might be shared?
“I am afraid I must give my regrets. I am due at the Dawn’s Light to discuss some spoiled cargo.”
Swanston grinned. “That should be quite the delight.”
Derek did not grin. “You’re right about that.” He turned to Ruby. “I imagine we will have much to discuss when I return.”
She smiled her best professional smile but did not answer.
“I will choose to take that as a yes. Gentlemen, my farewells. Ruby, I will see you later.”
She watched him stride through the door, wishing things could be more settled between them.
Chapter 8
It was dawn again. The barest trace of light leaked in from the closed drapes. Four days until Christmas. Rolling onto her side, Ruby stared at Derek’s broad back. She had been right. He was irritated that she had not immediately accepted Swanston’s offer to buy Madame Rouge’s. She understood Derek’s desires; they were not far different from her own, but she could not let herself be ruled by them. If she did not make the right decision, she would be haunted by it.
Perhaps she should call upon Madame Noir, her predecessor. The woman now spent most of the year in a small manor on the cliffs of Cornwall, but she might have returned to Town for the winter. She had visited Ruby last year, complaining that the cold ocean winds were not kind to aging joints.
Would she have any advice for Ruby?
She had not seemed to have any regrets about selling the house, and she’d given in almost instantly to Ruby’s outlandish suggestion that she buy it. How had Madame had any idea that Ruby would be able to manage the place? Ruby certainly hadn’t been sure. She’d simply been desperate.
So why had Madame agreed to sell to her? She’d been a friend of Ruby’s mother, but that had been their only connection.
Her mind was going in circles. It seemed all that she did these days was think about making a decision, without coming any closer to making one.
Well, there was one other thing she did. She shifted her hips closer to Derek and he rolled toward her, turning to lie flat on his back. And didn’t that present possibilities—rather large possibilities.
Weren’t men wonderful first thing in the morning?
She licked her lips and considered. What would be the most distracting—for both of them?
Without another thought, she moved to a kneeling position and then straddled her handsome captain. His eyelids fluttered, but he did not open them. Hmmm. He was going to leave all the work to her, was he? Well, she couldn’t say that she minded; there were some tasks she was more than ready for.
Easing back with her hips, she settled herself upon his hard cock. A small sigh escaped her as he slid between her slick folds, filling her. He felt so good. She rose up again and settled back slowly, taking her time, in no hurry. She was going to enjoy this for as long as she could.
Lifting and lowering herself again, she clenched her inner muscles tight and shifted so that everything rubbed just right. Oh, that was good.
Again.
She slowed her pace even more then, enjoying each inch of movement.
Her eyes remained open and she studied Derek’s face. Some might find his features too strong and heavy to be handsome, but she was definitely not one of them. Everything about him screamed man. The forceful chin, the sun-darkened skin, the scruff of beard that darkened his face even further, the broad nose and high cheekbones. It was a pity his eyes were closed. She would have enjoyed getting lost in their depths.
Although there was something to be said for being allowed to stare at him unobserved. She pulled up and paused, waiting. His Adam’s apple bobbed. No, he was not asleep.
Down again, she leaned forward, admiring the strong muscles of his chest, the knotted cords of his arms and shoulders. She wanted to lean even farther, to touch his smooth skin, to abrade the tips of her breasts on the smattering of hair that covered that broad expanse of chest.
Instead, she concentrated on the press of her thighs against his hips, on moving forward and backward, on shifting her weight so that her clit pressed tight against him.
Now she did close her eyes, relishing the slow build of feeling inside her. It was so rare for her to have the chance to truly take things at her own pace, to move as she wanted, to please only herself—although she could only imagine that she was pleasing him as well. Clench. Release. Clench. Hold. Tighter. Slow release. Oh, there, right there. She pressed herself tighter. Lifting her hands, she began to play with her nipples, squeezing and lightly twisting, feeling them grow and elongate, feeling the blood fill them.
She pushed her hips forward again, and then again.
The ache was growing strong within her now, building and curling and twisting. Each movement of her fingers shot a bolt of pleasure down between her legs. Good. So very good.
It was coming.
It was close.
She stopped moving, breathed deep, forced herself to relax. Wait. Prolong. Not yet. Not yet.
When control had returned to her, she began to move again at that same snail-slow pace, feeling every movement all through her body, concentrating on nothing but the ache, the need.
This time it built fast, almost taking her off guard.
Again she forced herself to still, forced herself to quiet.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Counting her heartbeats, she measured each one, waiting until the urge to move became so great she could not resist.
Up. Down. Tight. Release.
She was on fire now. The world did not exist beyond the joining of their bodies.
Build. Build.
And stop. Deep breath…
“Oh no you don’t. You’ll kill us both,” Derek rasped. And with a sudden twist she was the one flat on her back and he rose above her, burying himself deep to the hilt.
God, that was even better. It felt as if her eyes were rolling back in her skull, so extreme was the pleasure.
And then he took over, setting the pace, fast and hard, far removed from her own slow movements.
And she didn’t care, not in the tiniest bit. How could she complain when…
And then she couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel as the moment took her, the climax filling her and completing her.
—
“Well, that was nice,” Derek said, as he brushed the hair away from her ear and shifted his weight off her to lie beside her once again.
“Nice?”
He could tell she didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted.
“What word would you use?” he inquired.
Her eyes began to laugh and she bit down on her lip.
“I suppose ‘nice’ will do,” she said.
The laughter broke from him in a rumble. She was refusing to build up his ego. “Ahh, Emma, you do delight me.”
“Emma, is it?”
He looked at her eyes, the light blue of a hazy summer day. Her blond hair floated about her head, soft and fluffy, so silky to the touch. He’d never felt anything quite like the corn-silk strands. “Somehow that did feel like Emma, and I suppose I’d better get used to calling you that, hadn’t I?” He rose on his elbow, his gaze questioning.
Her face clouded.
Fuck. He’d been afraid of that. She was trying to distract him—not that she wouldn’t have woken him in such a manner otherwise, but this had been about distraction. Well, distraction and pleasure, but distraction had definitely been a part.
She let out a long slow breath. “Yes, you will have to get used to calling me Emma, and I will have to get used to answering to it.”
“I will have to introduce you to my full crew soon. If you’re going to sail with me for any length of time, it is best that we get it out of the way.”
“Will they know who I really am?”
“Probably not. Thompson, my old first mate, might have figured it out. He certainly saw Madame Rouge eno
ugh times to possibly recognize you, but now that he’s off with Tilly, starting a landlocked life, I don’t think there’s anybody who would know any of your personalities.”
“Have you heard from Thompson? I got a letter from Tilly that sounded cheerful, but it’s always hard to know.”
Derek knew that Emma, or Ruby—even in his mind he wasn’t always sure what to call her—cared for her girls and had been as shocked as he when his first mate announced he was marrying the pretty girl and taking her off to Cumberland to help an uncle with his inn. Derek hadn’t even known that the man had any relations in England. “I haven’t yet, but I haven’t had a chance to inquire for mail since I arrived. I imagine there will be something, but knowing Thompson it will probably be brief. Arrived. Married. All good.”
Emma’s laughter filled the room. “That does sound like him.”
“Then we’re agreed: Sometime in the next couple of days I will escort Miss Emma Scanton to the Dawn’s Light and introduce her to the crew. Your grandfather can come along if you wish.”
“Agreed? I…”
“You know it has to be done and soon. It is not unusual for a sailor to fall both in love and into matrimony quickly, but let’s give them a few days to get used to the idea before you actually sail with us.”
“A few days?”
“You are nothing but questions this morning. And, yes, a few days. You did promise me you’d make a decision. The Dawn’s Light will be loaded with a new cargo shortly and it will be time for me to head home. Are you going back on your promise?”
She paled. “No, but…” Her voice trailed off.
