IfHe’sSinful

by Desconocido

  “Oh, good.” She slowly ran her tongue along the length of him and felt him shudder.

  “Oh God.”

  It was the last coherent thing Ashton said for a very long time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Now here is a sight I never thought I would see.”

  Ashton’s first clear thought was one of astonishment that Penelope, whom he had thought was fast asleep, could go tense so quickly. It seemed as if every inch of her delectable little body had gone as stiff as an overly starched cravat. He was tempted to see if her hair was standing on end. He smiled as he kissed the back of her neck.

  Then it penetrated his sleep-dulled mind that someone had spoken, that someone was seeing him and Penelope in bed together. Naked. Wrapped in each other’s arms. The room heavily scented with the lovemaking they had indulged in for long hours during the night. That someone had the voice of a mature female and an accent that bespoke education and good breeding. His heart sank as he realized that all the troubles and complications he had been wrestling with had just increased—tenfold.

  “Best hold firm to that sheet, Ashton,” Penelope murmured. “Could you give us a moment of privacy, Auntie?”

  “No.”

  “Have it your way.”

  “I usually do.”

  It was not easy, but Penelope managed to sit up with the sheet held firmly against her. It helped that Ashton also sat up, holding firm to that part of the sheet covering the bottom half of his body. For a moment she was distracted by the sight of his smooth, hard chest, but her aunt’s loud ahem pulled her free of the thought of kissing him there. Penelope sighed for she did not really want to talk to anyone; she wanted to make Ashton writhe and yell like she had last night. She frowned at her aunt, who stood in the doorway with her arms crossed beneath her much-admired bosom.

  Lady Olympia Wherlocke was a very impressive woman. A little taller than most women, and some men, with raven black hair and sky blue eyes, she drew many admiring glances. She was strong, confident, and only three years older than Penelope. Penelope was always amazed by how imposing her young aunt could be. Olympia was even more imposing than usual at the moment, backed as she was by all the boys and their tutor, who had his hand placed firmly over young Juno’s eyes.

  “’Tis a little early to come calling, Auntie,” Penelope said, grimacing inwardly when Olympia simply quirked one perfectly arched brow. “I was unaware that you had planned a trip to the city.”

  “I had not planned one but I was suddenly compelled to come. Drawn here, you might say. Called to your side.”

  “Not another one,” muttered Ashton.

  After giving Ashton a brief, cold stare, Olympia returned her attention to Penelope. “It was as I was racing to your side that a new element was added to the mix of feelings and portents pulling me onward. I now believe I know what that new element was.” She gave Ashton another hard glare. “I hope you can explain everything to my satisfaction.”

  “More or less,” replied Penelope, “but do you think we could do all this explaining in the parlor in a little while? A few moments of privacy would be greatly appreciated. Ah, nay, actually, let us gather in the breakfast room. I am feeling a bit peckish.”

  “I cannot imagine why.”

  Ignoring her aunt’s sarcasm, Penelope said, “Please, Auntie. I will tell all over breakfast. There is simply too much to explain to do it here and now.” And I would much rather explain it all with my clothes on, she thought crossly.

  “Fair enough, but I suggest you be quick about joining me there.”

  There was a certain tone to Olympia’s voice that made Penelope uneasy. “Am I to prepare for more surprises?”

  “Possibly. I have the very distinct feeling that I am not the only member of the family feeling compelled to rush to your aid.”

  “Damn.”

  “In truth, I believe your uncle Argus will be arriving within the hour.” Olympia shooed everyone out of the room as she turned to leave and, as soon as the doorway was clear, shut it firmly behind her.

  For a moment Penelope stared at the door and then groaned. She quickly got out of bed and yanked on her shift before turning to face Ashton. He still sat in the bed holding the sheet over his groin and looking an endearing mix of confused, embarrassed, and alarmed. If her uncle Argus really was on his way to the Wherlocke Warren, there might be a good reason for that last one. Uncle Argus was a rogue, but he expected the women of his family to be sweet, innocent, and impervious to seduction. He had been known to get very angry with any man who tried to seduce one of the Wherlocke or Vaughn women. While some of those men had deserved all they got, she did think her uncle was very hypocritical in his attitudes.

  “We best hurry,” she said. “Auntie is not a patient woman. If she thinks we are taking too long to join her, she could come back here.”

  “But if we were taking a long time to appear, it could easily mean that we decided to—”

  “Exactly.” Penelope cursed the heat in her cheeks for she hated to blush. “That thought would not deter Auntie.”

  “So she really is your aunt?” Ashton asked as he got out of bed and started to dress. “She cannot be much older than you.”

  “She is only three years older than I. She was the youngest of eight children. My mother was the eldest. Between them are six brothers. Uncle Argus is the third-born son.”

  “Are you intending to tell her everything?” He moved to help her do up her gown.

  “One must be completely truthful when dealing with Aunt Olympia.”

  “And this Uncle Argus if he arrives?”

  “Aye, him, too.” She decided it was not a good time to tell him that her uncle could simply make Ashton tell him everything he wanted to know with the power of his eyes and his voice. “And if Olympia feels he will arrive, then he will. I am sorry,” she said as she hastily tied her hair back with a blue ribbon to match her gown. “I have complicated your life beyond measure.”

  Ashton took her into his arms and held her close. “You have, but so have I. More so than you have, actually. So has fate. So has my family.” He leaned back a little and briefly kissed her. “Who knows? Mayhap your aunt and uncle can help us to untangle this mess, most of which really is of my own making. The moment I met you, I should have turned away from Clarissa and taken a good hard look at things. The answers were there. I have seen that since I was trapped into this engagement. I had just decided to take the quickest route out of my difficulties by marrying money.”

  She smiled sadly and stroked his cheek. “And if you had taken a good look, all you would have seen was what was already there—all those responsibilities a man like you cannot ignore. There is also the small matter of all those markers Charles holds.” Penelope took him by the hand. “Come. Olympia is neither a prude nor a complete tartar. She will frown and scold but she will not condemn.”

  “Not you leastwise,” he muttered as he followed her out of the room.

  Ashton’s concern proved to be warranted, Penelope mused as she swallowed the last bite of a hearty breakfast. The moment the children left, even the older ones ordered out by Olympia, her aunt fixed a severely condemning scowl on Ashton. This was not going to be a comfortable confrontation, Penelope decided. She was a little astonished that Ashton showed no real lack of appetite beneath her aunt’s gimlet stares.

  “I assume the wedding will be soon,” said Olympia.

  “Nay,” Penelope replied, firmly burying the hurt that knowledge always caused her. “There is to be no wedding.”

  “You are the daughter of a marquis, the niece of an earl, the—”

  “No need to list all of my impressive connections, Auntie. Ashton is fully aware of them. He and his friends have been doing a lot of poking about. I will explain the why of that in a little while,” she hastily added when she saw her aunt’s eyes narrow at the mere thought of someone investigating the family.

  “Then there will be a wedding.”

  “Nay. Ashton is al
ready spoken for.” She grimaced when her aunt looked at Ashton in a decidedly murderous way. “I knew that from the very beginning.”

  “I see.” Olympia took a sip of her tea before saying, “No, I do not see. Not you. You are not like so many of our other relations. You are not heedless, not reckless, and certainly not given to tossing away all good sense for the sake of passion. You better than all of us know the price paid for such things. You care for a houseful of the consequences.”

  “The fault is mine,” said Ashton. “I erred in two ways. The first was that I should have left Penelope alone. The second was that when that proved impossible, I should have backed away from Clarissa, avoided that fatal meeting with her brother that ended up with me engaged to the woman.”

  “Ashton.” Penelope patted his hand. “Charles has tied you neatly in a knot and you know it. Auntie, before we wade into that tangle, allow me to tell you how Ashton and I met,” said Penelope, and after taking a deep breath to steady herself, she told Olympia the tale of her kidnapping and all the other troubles that had plagued her since that night.

  “You should have written to us, called upon us for help. That is what a family is for.”

  “I intended to do just that as soon as I could figure out what was happening. And if it was anything more than coincidence. I know how uncomfortable this city can be for many of you. I did not wish to pull all of you to London simply because I was having a run of bad luck.”

  “Bad luck? You call what has happened to you simply bad luck?” Olympia shook her head. “Someone wants you dead, Pen, and I think you know who that is as well as I do.”

  “Aye, I do, but is it Clarissa, is it Charles, or is it both of them? I am certain Charles was behind my kidnapping but the madam’s hired scum mentioned a woman, too. No one actually said the names of the people who had paid to have me put there, however. Clarissa did hint at it the other day but that is only my word against hers. We also think Mrs. Cratchitt was responsible for some of the things that happened to me because she felt I knew things that could get her hanged.”

  “Other than the fact that she kidnaps young women and forces them to become whores?”

  “I said something to the men who carried me there, something about someone dying in that bed. If they told her what I said, and we now know she did kill a lot of people, she would not have wanted me telling anyone about it, would she? You see our problem, do you not? What was done by her? What was done by Charles or Clarissa? I think each has tried to kill me but we have no proof of that. If we are going to accuse a baron of trying to kill me, we need proof. Charles may be a somewhat new baron, the honor scoffed at by much of society, but he is still of the gentry. It is very hard to just point a finger and accuse one of the gentry. One needs indisputable fact. Ashton, his friends, my brothers, and Darius are all working hard to find out the truth.”

  “The truth is that Charles does not wish you to reach your majority or marry. He will lose everything if that happens. But we can argue over that later. Aside from this fool getting himself caught in Clarissa’s web, why can you not get married?”

  Penelope sighed, realizing that her aunt would not be diverted for long with talk of murder and mystery. She looked at Ashton and cocked one brow, silently asking him if he wanted to tell her aunt Olympia everything. He was doing what he had to do to save his family from utter ruin and he might not wish to share those troubles with her scowling aunt, a woman he did not know. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief when he patted her hand and looked straight at Olympia.

  “My family is destitute,” he said bluntly. “My father was faithless, extravagant, and irresponsible. He left us all so deep in debt that my only choices are to wed an heiress or walk away from everything the Radmoors have built since the time of Elizabeth.”

  “That still does not explain why you cannot marry my niece and do not try to tell me you were not the one who took her innocence,” said Olympia.

  “I know what I have done is wrong but I never lied to Penelope about what my plans were or how they could not be changed no matter what I wanted. I have two brothers, three sisters, two aunts, and a mother I must support. I loathe the fact that I am naught but a fortune hunter, but needs must when the devil drives, and all that. And Charles holds all my father’s markers. He can easily ruin my family with them.”

  “Do you have some strange aversion to Penelope’s money?”

  “I do not have any money, Auntie,” Penelope said. “A small pension or whatever one might wish to call it, some money from the fathers of the boys, and that house that Charles claims is his. It is not enough to save Radmoor and his family from debtor’s prison. Charles will never allow him to pay those markers off slowly for he is determined that Clarissa marry a man of high title and a long heritage. Ashton needs a lot of money.”

  Suddenly Aunt Olympia tensed and looked toward the door. A moment later Penelope knew why. Every hair on her body stood on end. She glanced at Ashton and saw him pull up his sleeves and stare at the upright hair on his arms in astonishment. Uncle Argus was here.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the breakfast room, detached a grinning Darius and an equally happy Paul from his body, and shooed them out of the room. Paul was not Argus’s son but the boy adored the man and the man adored him. That man shook back his long black hair and fixed a dark, fierce gaze on Ashton. Penelope quickly put her hands over Ashton’s already glazing eyes and scowled at her uncle.

  “You will not do that to Ashton,” she snapped. “There is no need. We are keeping no secrets, and will answer all questions.”

  Argus rolled his eyes and sat down next to Olympia. “You allow a man no fun.” He began to help himself to what was left of the food.

  Ashton pulled her hands away and stared at her in confusion. “What did he do? One moment I was ready to stand up and greet him, or accept a fist to the mouth, and the next? Well, I am not sure.”

  Penelope sighed. “Uncle Argus, I would like to introduce Ashton Pendellen Radmoor, the viscount of Radmoor. Ashton, this is my uncle, Argus Wherlocke, Sir Wherlocke, and he has a gift for making people want to tell him anything and not recall that they did.”

  “Truly?” Ashton stared at Sir Argus with interest.

  “Ashton, the man just tried to force you to tell him all your secrets! Why are you looking at him as if he is the solution to all your problems?”

  “Do we not have a few people we need some answers from?”

  “Oh.” She looked at her uncle, who gave her a beguiling smile. She did not believe it for a moment. Uncle Argus was at his most dangerous when he looked so sweet.

  “Tell me all while I fill the hole in my belly,” Argus said and began to eat.

  Yet again Penelope told her whole story, her troubles, Ashton’s troubles, and all of their suspicions. She hoped no more of her relatives showed up because she was getting weary of telling it all. She especially hated to keep saying, aloud, that she and Ashton could not marry for it hurt each time she did so.

  “So toss aside that scheming bitch Clarissa and marry our Penelope,” said Argus.

  “I do not have the money he needs,” protested Penelope, trying not to lose her patience over having to repeat herself. “I just have a house and a small fund. Charles holds all the markers left by Ashton’s father, and if he calls them in, that will utterly ruin Ashton’s family. They could easily all end up in debtor’s prison.” Please let this be the last time I have to say this, she added silently.

  “Of course you have money. Damn, girl, your father was so tight with a coin it screamed. He had a lot of properties that were not entailed and a small fortune in the funds. God knows what else he had. If the Hutton-Moores have told you that you are poor, they are lying. Your father would have made sure that everything that was his became your mother’s and yours with few ways open for a second husband to get his hands on any of it. He would have left something for his sons as well. Did you not read the damn will?”

  “It was read to me
by the solicitor, Mr. Horace Earnshaw,” Penelope said quietly. “I fear I was grieving so when it was read that I did not pay close attention. There was so much my mother and I had not agreed on and I knew that I would never be able to take back any angry words or come to an understanding. She was gone and the distance that had grown between us would never be crossed. It broke my heart. I did ask for the will once, but Charles told me the solicitor had it. I wrote the man a letter but he never responded and”—she shrugged—“I fear I forgot about it after a while. Things can get a little busy here. But—”

  “It would help if you had a servant or two,” Ashton muttered.

  “What are you grumbling about?” said Argus. “Of course she has servants. Who was that burly fellow at the door?”

  “One of my mother’s footmen. I had him and his brother come here after Mrs. Cratchitt’s men broke into the house and started to destroy it.”

  “Why did you not hire some, girl?” Argus stared at her in confusion, an expression that made his harsh face look almost boyish.

  “Because I do not have any money. I have enough for us all to live here, clothe, and feed ourselves, but little more. What extra coin I had I have used to pay Septimus to tutor the boys. And to be quite blunt, it is a pittance, and if he was not family and so fond of the boys, he would soon find a new position.”

  Argus sat back in his seat and dragged a hand through his hair. “But I have sent you money every week. I know the others send money near every month. I cannot remember the exact sum, but it would certainly be enough to hire a maid or two.”

  Penelope stared at her uncle and then, as a cold knot formed in her belly, she looked at Ashton, who was frowning. “They have known about this house since the beginning. They have found some way to take most of the money sent to me.” She looked at her uncle. “Did you send it here?”

  “I believe most of us did. Are you saying they managed to get their greedy hands on the money we sent to our children?”