by Jane Charles
Her eyes and mouth were wide with shock. His tongue darted out, finding her nub. Eleanor hissed and fell back. Clay feasted like he never had before, the nub swelling beneath his tongue with each stroke, her body loosening, opening, and finally allowing him to stretch her. Her fingers dug into his scalp as her moans became louder. If she didn’t come soon he was going to spill his seed on the bed without the pleasure of having her body surrounding him. He had never had this much difficulty keeping control. Lovemaking in the past had always been natural, methodical and he could always control his release until the right moment. But not with Eleanor. She was driving him to the brink. Is this what lust did to a man?
“Let go. Don’t fight it.”
As if on his command she stiffened, crying out as her body convulsed. He couldn’t wait. He should allow her a moment to recover but he was ready to burst.
Clay came over Eleanor and probed her tight entrance. He prepared her as much as he could but she was excruciatingly tight. If he didn’t know better he would think she was a virgin. As that was not possible, her encounters must have been few, and a very long time ago.
He pushed further, stretching and pulling back. His control was at its limit. He needed to be in her, feel her moist heat envelope him, and plunge as deep as he could before he withdrew. He would not come inside her. Not until he had the chance to ride into town for sheaths. Eleanor had been left with a child once before and he would not leave her with a second one.
He drew back and plunged into her depths. Eleanor screeched and Clayton lost all control and he was shaken with the most intense and instantaneous release of his life. He was too late to pull back now and he rode the waves of passion until he was drained. Collapsing he rolled to his side. “Bloody hell.”
*
Eleanor lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Her emotions and thoughts were a jumble. Goodness. That was certainly more than she ever dreamed. Aside from that bit of pain in the end, it had been the most pleasurable experience of her life. Was it always like that? Did gentlemen make a habit of kissing ladies there? Her face heated with the remembrance. Well, she certainly couldn’t ask anyone.
She would never be the same after tonight and it had nothing to do with no longer being a virgin. Clayton had introduced her to sensations she never dreamed existed. Even if she didn’t have enough funds when this was over, she couldn’t regret what she would experience.
Eventually her heartbeat slowed and body cooled. She turned her head to look at Clay. He hadn’t said anything else. What was he thinking? Was he disappointed? Had she displeased him, or was he simply still recovering as she. Had he felt the same explosion within his body?
His face was hard, his jaw tight. Oh dear.
Abruptly he sat and turned his back to her. What had she done? Eleanor grasped the coverlet and pulled it over her body.
He bent and grabbed his breeches from the floor before he stood and pulled them on, giving Eleanor a glimpse at his sculpted buttocks.
He then strode across the floor and yanked on one boot and then the other, not saying a word. She had thought they would remain here a bit longer, though she wasn’t sure what more they could do, but she had not anticipated this cold indifference.
He marched around the room, gathering his clothing and yanking them on his body. Eleanor clutched the coverlet to her chin, trying not to panic. Her heart raced for a different reason now. Was their agreement at an end? Was he finished with her already?
Once dressed, cravat hanging loosely around his neck, Clayton turned and stared at her. “This is not what I bargained for.”
A chill ran through her body at his words.
He took a purse from the inside of his coat pocket and tossed it on the table. “Our original agreement is at an end.”
A cry lodged in her throat and Elle brought a fist to her lips, to keep the sound inside.
“A gentleman expects more experience from a mistress.” He strode for the door and Elle fought the waves of nausea rising from within. “I hope you are happy with what you’ve gained from this encounter.”
Clayton left the room and Elle jerked at the slam of the door. A moment later tears streamed down her face. “What have I done?”
Chapter 16
Elle pulled herself from bed in the summer house. The sun would be up soon and she must return home before the children woke. Slowly and methodically she dressed, and then packed the candles, long since spent, into the bag. She glanced back at the rumpled bed and her stomach clenched. She closed her eyes for a moment to fight back even more tears. She’d cried enough but she could not leave the room in this state. Placing the bag on the floor she marched to the bed and ripped off the soiled sheets and made the bed up to make it look like nothing was amiss. She would wash the linen and return it later, not that she expected anyone to notice they were missing.
She glanced at the purse Clayton had tossed on the table. She had stared at it after he left, wondering how much it held and if she wanted it after all. To take the money branded her a whore, but hadn’t she already decided to become one when she made the bargain with Bentley? Why was the thought of taking the money this way so distasteful now?
As much as she wanted and needed the money, she couldn’t make herself take the purse. She was certain to regret it in the days to come, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the payment. Doing so would make what happened with Bentley all the worst somehow.
Shoving the sheets into the satchel Eleanor left the summer house without a backward glance.
Birds were chirping and going about the morning as she opened the back door of her home. The sounds were once cheery, but not today. Nobody had risen and she quietly made her way up the stairs, careful to avoid places on the steps that creaked. Entering her room she closed the door silently behind her and dropped the satchel. Exhaustion pulled at every part of her being but doubted she would be able to sleep. All she needed to do was keep busy and try to find a way to raise the rest of the money. There had to be something she hadn’t thought of. Perhaps she could appeal to her grandfather for a loan, but pride stood in the way.
That blasted pride again. Look what it had gotten her so far. If she thought it would do any good she would write her grandfather, but she already knew the answer. He would not give her a farthing if it would go to helping her family so she must think of something else. As much as she hated to, perhaps it was time to appeal to Drake.
After hiding the bag in the armoire and hanging her cape on a hook, Elle settled at her small desk and penned a letter to Drake and to meet with him after his guests left to discuss the possibility of a loan. Just penning the words made her nauseous but what else was she to do? She couldn’t lose her home. All she could do was pray she could pay him back as quickly as possible so that the loan didn’t stand between their friendship. Her step-father taking loans had gotten them into this mess in the first place and she was not about to repeat his habits.
She read over the letter one last time, hoping he would understand why she could not return to the party. Bentley’s handsome face came to mind and as much as she wanted to hate him, she could not. He had expected a woman of experience and she had done nothing to disabuse him of that fact. What if he felt responsible for or thought himself the person who ruined her? Bentley was honorable. What if he got some fool notion in his head?
No, he wouldn’t. They’d made a bargain. It was a bargain that he had terminated almost immediately, but not before the irreparable damage was done. But, it had been her choice, her proposition, and she had nobody to blame but herself. It just hurt how cruelly she’d been discarded.
Elle picked up the sand to dust the letter, but stopped.
But, what if he decided he owed her an obligation?
Elle dipped the pin into the inkwell and added Please inform Lord Bentley that I do not wish for him to call on me or seek me out ever again. I have no wish to see him.
Drake may wonder, but he could ask Bentley about it if he felt so in
clined. Whatever excuse he gave she would go along with because Bentley would certainly not tell Drake the truth, unless he wished to face a pistol at dawn.
*
Clay dressed carefully the following morning. He had slept little, if at all. His mind was still reeling from the revelation that Eleanor was, or had been, a virgin until last night. He had handled the entire situation badly. Very badly indeed. He could still see the stricken look on her face after he had thrown the money on the table and informed her that the previously agreed arrangement was no longer possible. Even she must understand that he was now obligated to do right by her. He had no choice but to marry her. A gentleman does not ruin a respectable woman without consequence.
He stared at his face in the mirror and pushed his fingers through his hair, trying to make some order out of ends sticking out in all directions. How he managed to get into this mess he would never understand. So like his father, judging, condemning and now tied to her for life. It didn’t matter that he desired her in his life and should be pleased that his growing attachment for her could continue without the taint of an illicit affair. But he couldn’t get past the fact that she had lied to him. At any point in their relationship she could have told him that Jamie was not her natural son, but not once had she said a word and had allowed him to believe the worst of her. What kind of woman would do that? Anyone else would have been quick to deny such condemning assumptions, but she had held her tongue and now look at where it had gotten both of them.
As soon as he had started kissing and caressing her he knew that one night would not be enough. Now it appeared he would have her for a lifetime. Yet, there was so much he didn’t know about her. Of course now he knew why her grandfather had finally provided a season. She was as pure as any other young woman being presented. Or, had been, until he’d ruined her, in the most incredible moment of his entire life.
He could still feel her tremble with what he’d thought had been desire. How much had been fear? Eleanor had taken a huge chance last night with her virtue. No, she had known what she was doing and had been the one to suggest the union. Why? She hadn’t wanted a house in London, nor jewels. In fact, she had almost decided against the entire suggestion until he assured her there were other ways she would be rewarded. Surely the money he had given her in London had paid any debts. How could the earl allow his granddaughter to live in the run down house with no servants? The entire situation baffled him and he would find out the truth. Today. He had a right to know everything he was getting in the bargain, which apparently included Jamie, two other brothers, and an unsupportive grandfather. In fact, Clay had half a mind to confront the man, but decided to wait until he had all facts.
Clay turned away from the mirror once he’d brushed everything into place. What was Eleanor thinking this morning? He should not have stomped out on her as he had. It had been childish but he was so shocked at discovering that she was a virgin, he hadn’t known how to act. Had it been on their wedding night, he would have been prepared and expectant. But she had just agreed to be his mistress and one did not expect a mistress to be a virgin.
Damn, he yanked on his boots, he shouldn’t have just left her sitting there, horrified by her actions and horrified by his response. He would have to make it up to her, and he would. But, not until he had his own answers first. With those thoughts in mind he strode from his room. Following breakfast, he would find a way to get her alone. They had much to discuss.
Eleanor wasn’t at breakfast, but Clay wasn’t surprised. She normally didn’t make an appearance until early afternoon. He had a few hours to wait and he needed this time to prepare for their conversation. As the meal was ending a footman handed a note to Acker that he read with a frown. He sat it aside before he spoke. “Miss Westin will not be joining us again. There are some pressing matters which she must attend to.” Clay met Acker’s eyes, but the man said nothing more, though Clay could swear he saw accusation. Perhaps it was his guilty conscious. As soon as the others began to leave for morning activities he would ride to her home and demand an explanation.
It was not to be. As soon as he exited the dining room Acker was at his side. “Join me in the library.” It wasn’t a request but more of a demand.
“I hope you don’t intend on paying a call to Eleanor,” Acker stated once the door was closed behind them.
“That had been my intention.” What had she put in her note? “Why?”
“Because she specifically stated that she did not wish to see you.” Acker crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Clay. “Why?”
“It is none of your concern.”
“I beg to differ. This is not like Elle. If she were tired, or did have other matters to attend to, she would have simply left her note as that. Instead she added that she never wants to see you again. Why would that be?”
“It is a private matter between Miss Westin and myself.” Clay would not tell his friend the truth. He at least owed that to Eleanor.
“Then I cannot allow you to see her.”
Short of having a brawl with Acker to get out of the house, Clay decided that perhaps it was in everyone’s best interest to wait, for now. “Very well, then perhaps you could answer a few questions for me.”
Acker sank into the chair. “I’ll answer what I can.”
“Who is Jamie?”
Acker tilted his head to the side and studied him. “You no longer believe Jamie is her son?”
“No, and why didn’t you tell me in the first place? I thought we were friends.”
Acker shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to tell. Elle said that because you had made your judgment of her that you didn’t deserve to know the truth. She was very angry at the time.”
“For good reason.”
“That I never doubted for a moment,” Acker agreed. “Why do you ask now?”
“Because nothing adds up. Her grandfather is bloody rich, yet look at where she lives, with three boys. It was easy to assume that Jamie was her son due to circumstances.”
“Circumstantial evidence often leads to trouble, does it not,” Acker stated with a hint of a sarcastic smile.
Clay ignored the statement. “Tell me who Jamie is and why he lives with Miss Westin. He can’t be over two years of age and I was told her parents died three years ago. And, why does she live in such a rundown home with no servants?” Clay sank into a chair across from Acker.
Acker rose and poured a brandy for each of them before he returned to his seat. “Elle’s mother married Stanhope’s youngest son. None in the family were pleased with the match.”
“Why is that?” Clay had accepted the brandy, though he had yet to drink. Instead he held onto it for security, afraid he would need it in the end.
“They met during a summer gathering at this house. Elle’s mother was the daughter of our local magistrate. Though a gentleman, he was far beneath the earl and his family.”
Clay nodded.
“Elle’s father died when she was five-years-old. The family treated Elle’s mother coolly and came close to cutting her direct in polite society. Of course, Eleanor was loved and adored. When her mother tired of the treatment, she and Elle retired to her former home. Her father passed away a short time later so for a few years it was only the two of them.”
Clayton nodded, wishing Acker would hurry up with the story. “When Elle was eight her mother remarried and he moved into the home Elle still resides in. Once this action was taken, the Earl cut off any support with the exception of a few pounds a month for Elle.”
“That is hardly fair. At least he could have seen his granddaughter was better cared for,” Clay argued.
“He would have seen her educated and dressed in the finest clothing had Elle’s mother let her go to live with her grandparents, but she didn’t want to lose her daughter.”
“No woman would.” The night he last saw Adele holding onto Julia’s hand flashed through his mind. She refused to be parted from her daughter as well. Yet, there was no reason she had
to leave, abandoning Clay and his brothers.
“In truth, the only reason her mother took the funds in the first place was for Eleanor alone. Now that she was married, she wanted nothing from her former in-laws. In fact, everyone was quite happy in the house until Elle’s step-father died three years ago. Her mother died six months later, shortly after giving birth to Jamie.”
“Jamie is a step-brother.”
“Elle is the only mother he has ever known, which is why he calls her by that name. She has tried to discourage him but he is too young to understand. All the other small children have a mama so Elle must be his.”
Clay clearly recalled the day he had first seen the child with his arms open and up calling to Eleanor. He had judged her immediately for abandoning her son. How many other matters had he been wrong about? And, Jordan was the one who told me her parents had been dead for four years. Why hadn’t he confirmed this bit of information? Why had he blindly assumed the worst?
“Besides Jamie, Elle has had the responsibility of her other four siblings.”
“Four? I thought there were only three boys?”
Acker grinned and shook his head. “You really need to learn to ask questions and confirm facts before you start assuming.”
Clay’s face heated. It galled him that he was more like his father than he realized. How much harm had he done because of his assumptions and judgments? “Tell me about them.”
“Leigh is her only sister, and fourteen. Tobias is ten, Ethan is eight, Benjamin is five, I believe, and Jamie will be three at the end of summer.”
Clay sipped the fiery liquid, not caring that it was still early in the day. The answers only brought more questions. “Why did her grandfather pick now to give her a season? Did Eleanor want one earlier?”
Acker shrugged. “We don’t know. He never said. Stanhope simply issued the command and Elle had to obey.” He took a drink. “She reaches her majority in September and won’t have to do his bidding ever again after that.”
