All I Ever Needed

by Jo Goodman

  He reveled in her frantic desire for him, not minding in the least when she managed to remove his tails, waistcoat, cravat, jabot, shirt, shoes, stockings, breeches, and drawers, and he had yet to eliminate the remnant of her shift. When he finally wrested it from her, he waved it not like a man claiming victory, but one offering his surrender.

  Laughing, Sophie bore down on him. He cautioned her to quiet with a finger to her lips. She bit it.

  "Ow!" He drew it back quickly.

  "Shh." She murmured this against his lips. "You will wake the house."

  East suspected none of the servants would be brave enough to venture forth, and Lady Gilbert would be too polite to interfere. "Everyone will return to their slumber soon enough," he whispered huskily. "Sooner, if you do not bite me again."

  She found his hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing his fingertip this time. "That is better, is it not?"

  "Infinitely."

  She smiled because he did. It was a sly and wicked look that they mirrored to each other. Heat was raised anew and sensation stirred again. East caught Sophie's shoulders suddenly and twisted her around so that she was facedown on the bed. Surprise kept her from struggling. She laid one cheek against the sheet and eyed him with a mixture of interest and wariness.

  East ran his thumb down the length of her spine and back up again. On his next pass he went lower. His palm moved over the curve of her bottom, and he felt her lift her hips in reaction to the touch. He dipped his head and brought his mouth close to her ear. Even before he spoke a single word, she responded to the anticipation of it, and a delicious sort of shiver made every part of her body sensitive to his touch. With only the slightest urging, Sophie drew her knees under her as East moved to kneel behind her. He stared at the elegant curve of her back as she raised her buttocks. His hands caught her hips, and he pulled her close until she was pressed hard and intimately against his erection.

  Sophie's eyes closed, and her fingers curled in the sheet. Her mouth parted on a silent O as she felt East's measured entry. He moved with exquisite slowness so that it was in every way the wicked, pleasing torture his eyes had promised earlier. It required all of her control not to rear back and force her own need on him. She waited him out, knowing that she would be sweetly rewarded for her patience.

  His penetration was deep. His hands on her hips kept her bottom in full contact with his groin. Before he began to move in earnest, she was already contracting around him. He did not have to see the small siren's smile curving her lips to know that it was there. His appreciative chuckle ended in a soft groan as she raised herself on her elbows and gave him more freedom of movement. Holding her hips still, East withdrew slightly and thrust again. Sophie's unbound hair fell forward over her right shoulder. She bit off the small cry that came to her lips.

  One of East's hands fell away from her hips, and when she felt it again, it was between her parted thighs. This time she did not catch her own cry and could not summon the least embarrassment for even one of her responses to him. When she felt his rhythm change so that the movement of his hips was quick and shallow, she gave herself up to the same quickening of his fingers. Every part of her body pulsed under him, and when he came it was as if he had set off a second round of charges. He had laid all of them with such care that she had only been aware of his caress. Now she felt the sparks of heat and light skitter across her skin wherever he had touched her: at the back of her knee, in the hollow of her throat, along the sweeping curve of her back. Her tender breasts knew the separate trails his fingers had made from peak to valley, and her flesh held the memory of the hot suck of his mouth.

  It came to Sophie as something of a shock to realize that East was now stretched out beside her, and that no part of his body was touching hers. The light press of his fingertips still lingered at the base of her spine and her hips. She felt the sensation of his mouth on hers. She offered up a sleepy, sated smile and was warmed by the chuckle that rumbled deeply in his chest.

  "I think you should have asked me to dance much, much earlier," she whispered.

  "Had I known you could be tumbled for a waltz, I would have." East turned more fully on his side and propped himself on an elbow. "Could I have had you so long ago at Almack's, I wonder?"

  Sophie eyed him carefully, trying to gauge the seriousness of his question against the teasing she hoped it was.

  "You might have claimed a kiss that night, for I was truly smitten, but I would have been able to keep my petticoat firmly in place. In any event, you would not have suggested anything so improper as a tumble."

  "You think I am such a gentleman, then?"

  She smiled because he sounded a little disappointed that it might be her estimation of him. "I think you are a rogue with the manners of a gentleman. It makes you quite dangerous, you know. You might be anything you like in aid of serving your purpose—or that of Colonel Blackwood's." She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "But I do not believe you would sacrifice your principles or your honor on anyone's account, and certainly not to fondle an innocent like myself in the heady throes of her first passion. You would have defended me against such an overture, not made one yourself."

  "It occurred to me that you would require such a zealous defense this evening," he said wryly. "Edymon's eyes strayed quite often from your face, I thought."

  "He was particularly admiring of my gown."

  "He was admiring of your particulars."

  Sophie could not quite keep her laughter in check. It came out as a delicate, expressive snort. Ignoring East's devilish grin, she said, "I noticed Lady Powell was attached to your side after your first set with her."

  "A barnacle would have been easier to remove. She had no interest in me but was full of questions about South."

  Sophie was skeptical. "I was a witness to the coy manner in which she wielded her fan. It is a wonder you were not bruised by so much playful tapping and batting." She gave East's forearms a cursory glance to assure herself this was not the case. "I have noticed that she has a proprietary nature. What did she want to know about Lord Southerton?"

  "His whereabouts. He has come and gone from London again."

  "He has?"

  "Hmm."

  Sophie frowned. "Is there nothing at all you can say to me? Is it your colonel's work again?"

  East considered what he could say. This was not a matter of his trust in Sophie, but rather of the trust that had been placed in him by others. "South's absence from town is in some way connected to his work for the colonel, but that does not explain it entirely. He is gone now to Merrimont near Devon to search for Miss Parr."

  "She has been absent from the London stage for quite some time."

  "Yes, but South used to know where she was. Now he does not. The circumstances of her disappearance are unlike yours or Elizabeth's. She did not voluntarily leave him."

  "Then why are you abed with me? You must help him find her."

  Before Sophie unwrapped him from the warm cocoon of blankets and forcibly removed him from her bed, he caught her wrist and pressed her splayed fingers to his chest. "The offer has already been made and rejected," he told her. "West. North. We have all gone to him. He thinks I am unsympathetic to the swirl of gossip that surrounds his connection to the actress. I suppose because he knows our engagement put me squarely in the eye of a storm of rumors, he believes I am more than a little relieved to share the ton's attention."

  "You might have told him we were married," she said gently. "He would have seen it a little differently."

  East shook his head. "It was not the time. I could not express my own happiness when he is so miserable."

  Sophie nodded, understanding. "His parents were my rescuers this evening. Did you set them on that course?"

  "Your rescuers? How do you mean?"

  "I left my aunt's side to better view the dancing, and Tremont slipped so easily to my side that he must have been lying in wait. At the moment I suspected he meant to be most difficult, Lord
and Lady Redding arrived. Lord Redding engaged him in conversation, and her ladyship took me under her wing. She is the one who told me I would find you in the gallery. She seemed not at all alarmed to be part of an intrigue, but I suppose that is because she has had naught else to do of late but worry about her son."

  East's cheeks puffed a little as he released a slow, measured breath. "It is my mother who is responsible for that timely intervention. I asked her to tell you where I could be found. I do not doubt that when she saw Tremont at your side she considered it would be better for Lady Redding to direct you. Your cousin would have hung on my mother's every word if she had engaged you in conversation."

  "Then Lady Winslow was clever to have acted as she did."

  "Yes, well, you should have little doubt that South's mother now knows more than I intended." He held up his hand when Sophie would have interrupted. "It is unimportant, and too late to change it if it were not. What did Tremont say to you?"

  She hesitated and realized that it was a mistake to have done so. East was immediately suspicious that she meant to prevaricate. She was forced by her own brief pause to tell him the truth now. "He tried pleasantries at first," she said. "But I did not warm to them, nor to his discourse about the Prince Regent's brief appearance at the ball. I made to leave, and he took exception to it."

  East's eyes narrowed a fraction. "How?"

  "He took my arm."

  "He grabbed you, you mean." East moved aside the blanket and examined both of Sophie's arms above and below the elbow. "It is only because you were wearing gloves that you are not bruised."

  Sophie drew the blanket up again. "Then congratulate me on my foresight for having done so," she said, "and leave off blaming Tremont for rising no higher than our low expectations."

  East offered a small grunt in appreciation of her point. "Go on. I am certain there is more."

  "Only that he told me I could not keep running from him. He imagines that I am in league with you, though in what manner he meant that I cannot say. He said I would do well to encourage you in a change of course."

  "That is all?"

  "There was one more thing. He told me that neither of us had the least idea what we were confronting."

  Eastlyn wondered if that were true. Did Tremont know something more than he and Sophie, or was it merely the bluff of a man who felt the wall was ever closer to his back? "That is when Lord and Lady Redding arrived?"

  "Yes. I have no idea what else he might have been prepared to say. In any event, he would not have remained at my side much longer because I meant to trod hard upon his toes."

  "A singular plan."

  "You think it would not have worked?" she asked. "I can assure you, he would have taken his leave with a limp that was noticeable to all. He did not consider that I would draw attention to us or give public expression to my disgust of him. He is used to fawning and flattery and being surrounded by people like Lord Pendrake who offer a surfeit of both."

  "You remember Pendrake well, then."

  "Of course. He was one of those in the hunting party when my father was shot. The man is a toady." Sophie stopped suddenly and regarded East with some surprise. "I never spoke of him to you before," she said slowly, trying to recall any reference to him. "How did you—"

  "I know the name of every man who was in that hunting party, Sophie. I began making inquiries during the same time I was making arrangements for your return to London."

  "You could have asked me. I am not likely to have forgotten who they were."

  "I did not think you would be forthcoming. The truth now: would you have told me if I had put the question to you?"

  "No."

  "Just so."

  "That is because I would not have trusted you to let it lie. Indeed, you have proved me right. Tonight I thought Tremont was making reference to the opium trade, but he was not, was he? At least, not entirely. That is why they all gathered at the ball. You must have seen them. It is a certainty we were meant to. He has come to learn that you are raising questions about the shooting. That is unlikely to put him at his ease with either one of us."

  "Do you care whether Tremont is at his ease?"

  "Never doubt it. He is considerably more dangerous when he is pacing. One never knows precisely in what direction he will pounce."

  "I predict it will be east."

  Sophie was unamused. "You do not take him as seriously as you must. If you will not show some greater care, I will apply to your friends myself and ask them to help you see reason."

  "They are more likely to encourage me, rather than the opposite."

  "Then all of you are lacking in your upperworks."

  That pronouncement, delivered as it was in unambiguous accents, raised East's grin. "North is a deep thinker," he said. "And by many accounts, South is considered brilliant. West has only to read a thing once before he knows the whole of it."

  "Intelligence is not the same as good sense."

  "Well, there you have me."

  Sophie knew that she had not altered his thinking in the least. There were no arguments to dissuade this man from doing what he thought was right. She had not tried to shift him from his course because of Tremont's warning; rather she had done it for her own sake.

  She did not soften immediately under East's first kiss, but neither did she have the intention of holding herself from him. If he knew that, he pretended otherwise, and applied himself to winning her over with singular purpose. As an exercise in carnal persuasion, it offered much in the way of satisfying argument. It was the only time that Sophie was convinced that in surrender there was more to be gained than lost.

  * * *

  When East woke, he saw the lighted candle at the bedside had been moved to the escritoire. Sophie was sitting in a high-backed chair, one leg pulled under her to give her height. Her shoulders were hunched over the small desk. Several quills stood in the inkstand, and occasionally she would pick one up and twirl it between her fingertips or tap the feathered end lightly against her chin. For the few minutes that he observed her, she never once dipped a pen into the inkpot.

  Her purpose at the desk was reading, not writing. The slim volumes that he had carried to the room were stacked precariously at her elbow. Each time she turned a page she came close to shifting the pile and scattering all of it to the floor.

  East leaned over the edge of the bed and found his shirt and breeches. He knew Sophie had to have heard him stirring and then dressing, but she did not glance in his direction. The long sleeves of her robe fell loosely about her elbows, and she propped her head in her hands and continued to read.

  East tucked his shirttail into his breeches as he crossed the room to join Sophie. He stood at her side a moment before pulling over a wing chair from the fireplace. He sat on the curve of one arm, stretching his legs casually in front of him. His bare toes nudged Sophie's under the desk.

  "You are determined to disturb me," she said without looking up.

  "That is my intent, yes."

  Sighing, Sophie lifted her head from the cup of her palms and gave East a sideways glance. There was no coyness here, only an accusation. "I understand why you left the discussing of these until later. I do not doubt they were meant to be private accounts. How did you come by them?"

  "I had supposed that would be obvious."

  "You stole them."

  "Yes."

  "You have been extremely busy of late. I count six books."

  East frowned slightly. "Not seven? I meant to carry that many. Have you looked through all of them?"

  "No. This is but the second." She pushed the stack of ledgers toward him. "You can count them for yourself."

  East saw at a glance that she was correct. "These are all the account books. The journal is missing. It is the only volume bound in green leather."

  "A journal? Whose?"

  "Yours."

  "You stole one of my diaries? Why in the—" Sophie stopped because he was shaking his head and looking at her as if sh
e were the one who had taken leave of her senses. The leg she was sitting on was beginning to fall asleep. She rose a bit and pulled it out from under her. Pins and needles jabbed at her foot so that she was forced to stand and hobble about to relieve it. "Perhaps you better explain what you've done," she said, turning on East. "Else you are certain to grow weary of my questions, and I am just as certain to lose all patience with your answers."

  East followed Sophie's limping progress to the fireplace where she poked at the embers before adding more coals. "It was never my intention to keep you in ignorance," he said. "That I brought these ledgers with me tonight is proof of that. I am in need of your help, Sophie. I understand most of what I've read here, but you are more familiar with the financial straits of your cousins. I thought you might be able to unravel some of the accounting."

  Sophie pointed to the book that lay open on the escritoire. "That one belongs to neither Tremont nor Harold. I do not recognize the writing, but it is not theirs. The first ledger I examined did not belong to them either, but the handwriting in that one is not the same as this."

  East held up one hand and ticked off a finger for each name he mentioned. "Tremont. Dunsmore. Harte. Pendrake. Helmsley." He tapped his thumb and index finger a second time. "And Barlough."

  For a moment Sophie did not breathe. It was as if an invisible fist had driven hard between her ribs and forced every bit of air from her lungs. "That is all of them," she said finally. "They were all there."

  East nodded once, satisfied. "The clubs," he told her. "That is where I came by the information. It is not difficult. You find someone who knows someone who remembers. You sort through the stories, the poor recollections as well as the more reliable ones, and finally you have enough commonalities to form an opinion as to what the truth might be."

  He gestured to the chair Sophie had vacated, inviting her to sit again. She was still holding the poker in her hands and seemed to have no idea that her bloodless grip did nothing to still her trembling fingers. "It was my intent to learn the names of every member of Tremont's hunting party. I thought it would be a good beginning. When Harte's name came to my attention, it was not a great leap to suppose that Pendrake might have been there as well. It was easy enough to confirm."