Three Nights of Sin

by Anne Mallory

  “Jeremy, what are you doing here?” His voice was exasperated and…fond?

  Jeremy walked to the table. He couldn’t be much older than she—might in fact be younger, it was hard to say. But it was immediately apparent who he was. He had the same cheekbones as her host, though his features were somewhat rounder and more open. Devastatingly attractive as well, but Jeremy was more of a charming, boyish scoundrel, whereas Noble immortalized a dark sexual demon.

  Jeremy plunked down so that they formed an off-center triangle and smiled at her—the smile was a little crooked, but all the more charming for it. “Good afternoon. Name’s Jeremy Noble.”

  She smiled back. It would be easy to be captivated by such a man. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jeremy Noble. I’m Marietta Winters.”

  “The Middlesex murderer Winters?”

  Her smile tightened. “One and the same.”

  Jeremy let out a low whistle and turned to his brother. “Thought you could keep me ignorant of this one, I see.”

  “No.” Noble did not look up. “I thought you should finish Cambridge. Why are you here, Jeremy?”

  “Charlie told me you were here working on a new case. Thought I would drop by and see if you needed help.”

  Noble finally looked up, the same exasperation and fondness in his voice present on his face. He looked…transformed. Like a human instead of something otherworldly and untouchable.

  “No. Now go back to school.”

  “We’re on break, remember?” He happily cut a piece of bread, his smile never dimming.

  “So go bother your friends and get in trouble in Mayfair.”

  “Done that plenty. I’m here to help you now.”

  “I don’t need your help.” His eyes narrowed and he looked more like the Noble she knew. “Go home for break.”

  Marietta shivered at his frosty tone, but Jeremy just looked amused. He glanced at Marietta. “Do you fall for that? All bark.”

  He swiped a piece of bread into his soup bowl. “Why would I go home? Much better food here.”

  “Can’t you get Mrs. Rosaire to cook for you there?” she asked, interrupting their banter.

  Jeremy blinked at her for a second, then a slow smile crossed his face. It was just like his brother’s, but where Noble’s devastated her, Jeremy’s just made her feel like a co-conspirator. “Is that what—”

  Noble made a sharp motion with his free hand and continued writing. Jeremy just looked amused.

  “Is that what?” she asked.

  Jeremy shook his head. “So, Miss Winters, may I call you Marietta?”

  She could feel her eyebrows shoot straight up. But he was so earnest looking and compelling. Yes, these two were both trouble. She shuddered to imagine them together against an opponent. “Yes.”

  “Excellent. Please call me Jeremy.”

  “Now that introductions are out of the way, be on yours, Jeremy,” Noble said. She wondered what he was writing.

  “Oh, no, no. This looks like much too much fun.”

  Noble gripped his pen a fraction tighter. “We are going to Alcroft’s tonight. Another masquerade. You have an invitation. After that I expect only to see you at home.”

  “I got straight marks this term.”

  She could see a smile tugging at Noble’s mouth, but when he looked up he was impassive. “I expected no less, now be off.”

  Jeremy smiled and gave her a wave. “I’ll see you both tonight.”

  She waited until Jeremy’s footsteps receded. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Now you do.” He continued writing.

  “Do you have any other siblings?”

  “No.”

  “Parents?”

  “I didn’t crawl out of Hell, if that is what you are asking.”

  “Are they alive?”

  He hesitated a moment, the pen scratching to a halt. “Go see if you need anything else for tonight. I’ll contact Clarisse, if so.”

  “Do you ever get tired of ordering everyone around?”

  “No.”

  She sighed and trooped upstairs.

  She fit the last feather in place on her mask and slipped it on. Then pivoting slowly in front of the mirror, she analyzed her appearance from all angles. She didn’t look like herself. She had transformed into some exotic flower or bird from the head up and a loose woman from the neck down. She wasn’t sure both styles went together, but it was the best she could do. And the effect was quite interesting all the same. It would allow her to be two different women if she so desired.

  She walked to the kitchen. She found it amusing that Noble chose to work here instead of in the study off the drawing room, spare though it was—just like everything else in the house. The kitchen table was large though and he liked to spread things in every direction.

  He looked up at her entrance and his eyes ran down her figure. “Adequate. Are you ready to leave?”

  She tapped her hand irritably against her leg. “Yes. Thank you for the brilliant compliment.”

  His eyes met hers and his mouth opened, then closed, a peculiar look in his eyes. He pulled himself out of the chair and walked over to her. “Something’s missing.”

  Her hands found their way to her hips. “And what is that?”

  “A knowledge in your eyes.” His were narrow as they searched hers. “You can wear the clothes, but you have no idea how to carry off the effect.”

  She tried to keep her anger tapped. “I see.”

  “Have you ever been kissed, Marietta?”

  The anger fled, replaced with confusion and nervousness. “I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

  “You do realize that we will be carrying off a role in the taverns especially.”

  “No.” She wet her lips, anxiety pulsing through her.

  He raised a brow. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to know what taverns are like, but you will after tonight.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to ask what he meant. He didn’t seem to need the cue.

  He leaned down. “Have you ever seen two people kiss, Marietta?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you think?”

  His eyes were a darker green, warmer than usual, not with a warmth spawned from fondness, but from the excited heat of a predator.

  “It looked…perfunctory.”

  “Ah. No, I meant have you ever seen two people really kiss?”

  She had seen a maid and footman kiss at a house party once, when they thought no one else around. The maid had been wrapped around the footman, and he had pressed her against the wall. She thought that was most likely what Noble meant by real kissing. It had looked rather real.

  “Yes.”

  He slowly smiled. “Good. We’ll start with the basics.”

  Her mind went blank. “Basics?”

  “Of kissing. Most people aren’t good at kissing right from the start.” He looked her over. “Unless you are a natural.”

  She blinked stupidly.

  His hand reached up and touched her cheek, gently tilting her head. “It’s like connecting puzzle pieces when you kiss. Or when you do anything else of a sexual nature.” The parts of her brain not already blank blessedly went dark. “You don’t want to purse your lips or keep them too slack.”

  He lifted her wrist and turned it underside up so it hung just below his lips.

  “A firm gentle pressure…” His lips touched her wrist, the pulse point beating wildly beneath. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes kept a steady hold on hers, watching. “A light teasing…”

  Was that a tongue that just swiped a swath across her skin? Heat followed the path and bounced in all directions.

  “An all-encompassing domination.” His warm breath tickled her skin every time he spoke, and then he encased the fire with his mouth. Her head tilted back as he drew her closer and she fell under his will. “A sweet submission.” His lips sucked gently and then released her wrist. “Those all work well depending on the mood and heat.�
��

  The kitchen was rather warm.

  “Open your lips, Marietta.”

  Her mouth parted without her express permission.

  “I don’t think we need to explore the perfunctory types of kisses first, do we?”

  “N-No.”

  He shook his head slowly, agreeing, and she followed the movement with her eyes. She felt as if he had cast a spell over her once again, just as he had in the street on the way to the barrister’s office.

  His head lowered, his eyes remained fixed on hers. She didn’t know what to do, so she stood motionless. His lips brushed hers and the tingling sensation traversed her spine. Her first kiss felt rather nice. He repeated the motion, and she tentatively brushed her lips across his, but instead of continuing the feathery caresses, his mouth closed over hers. An entirely different kind of sensation followed. He had said not to stay still or limp, but not to exert too much pressure either, and she had zero idea what to do. Standing there felt odd, though, as if something was missing. His hand curled around the back of her neck and she was urged closer, his lips opening hers. She started to feel the rhythm, the motion.

  She tried opening and closing her lips around his, and it was awkward. Embarrassment ran through her. She started to feel light-headed.

  He pulled back and she saw the amusement in his eyes. “Remember to breathe, Marietta.”

  “How can I breathe when your lips are covering mine?”

  He tapped her nose, an entirely inappropriate gesture, as was all of this. “Through your nose. Or take in a little air with your mouth when we separate.”

  Separate? They had been joined at the lip.

  “Let’s try it again.”

  “I dislike you.”

  “I know.” His eyes said he didn’t believe her one bit. “Put that to use in kissing me. Try to get your revenge.”

  His eyes twinkled in challenge, the darkness lurking just behind. He lowered his head again and when his lips met hers she wasn’t shocked this time and it felt even better. More natural. She tested breathing through her nose and wanted to kick him in the shin when she felt his laughter against her mouth.

  “Mmmm…” he said against her lips. “I can’t remember the last time teaching someone to kiss was this fun.”

  The tremors from his words, his mouth, vibrated against hers. “Do you do this often?” she asked against his lips, the movement of her mouth against his suddenly making her grasp what he was trying to teach.

  “No, not often,” he murmured. His mouth closed around hers, and this time she followed his lead, responding in kind, warmth flowing through her like a fresh hot brick under her blankets. She had no delusions that she was doing this kissing thing well, but it felt more natural, and he seemed to be responding. The kiss deepened further and she found her body inching closer to his, brushing against him, seeking further contact.

  All sorts of strange feelings flowed through her. A coiling in her belly, as if all the butterflies which had been fluttering there before had been captured in a net and secured—their wings beating furiously in one tight package.

  Her body was feeling more languid and relaxed, where at first she had been taut and strung tight. Her embarrassment was a haze above her, not as apparent as it had been previously. Her fingers moved to touch him, and only with strong will did she keep them at her sides, clutched in her tavern dress.

  “You can touch me, Marietta,” he whispered. “But then, of course, the opposite is true as well.”

  She jerked back, not breaking their contact above but removing all the places that they were touching below the neck. She felt him chuckle again, then his hand at her nape tugged her closer and his other hand wrapped around her waist, bringing her flush against him so they touched everywhere. His mouth seared hers, the kisses turning from languid and exploratory to dominating and overpowering.

  Her hands reached up to clutch his sleeves as he more forcefully opened her lips. Her body leaned in for more. His tongue slipped between her teeth and the shock was absorbed by the bigger shock of feeling something hard pressed against her lower body. His tongue pressed against hers and his fingers stroked her nape, urging her to respond in kind. She tentatively pressed her tongue back against his. It was a strange sensation and she started to feel hot and out of sorts—the rubbing of their bodies doing strange things to all parts of hers.

  She should push away from him right now.

  She held on tightly instead, her fingers crushing his linen sleeves.

  Did all men kiss this way? She suddenly had the dawning comprehension of how women lost their virtue—and how they became pregnant out of wedlock. Of why it happened. Perfunctory kisses didn’t lead to that state. Kisses like this…

  She pulled back, breathing hard. Gabriel Noble smiled and let the hand holding her neck trail along her throat, fingertips scorching her skin before dropping to his side. Her hand pressed against her chest, to the exposed skin above her bodice, which felt overly hot. His eyes searched hers and satisfaction appeared.

  “Now we are ready to go.” He turned on his heel, and she followed him out, still feeling dazed and out of sorts.

  The carriage pulled in front of a lavish row house in Hanover Square.

  Guests were walking through the door and light blazed from the windows.

  Noble helped her down from the carriage this time and placed her hand on top of his sleeve. She knew from earlier that the silky feel of his jacket was expensive and fine, and she was glad to have her gloves between them. She didn’t need any more stimulation from that quarter.

  A man dressed in black, similarly to Noble, approached them as they walked through the door. “I just spoke with your brother and he said you were bringing a lovely guest.”

  Noble smiled, his cheekbones nudging his mask. “Good evening, Alcroft. May I introduce you to my partner for the evening, Miss Rose. John Alcroft.”

  Blue eyes speculatively swung her way. “Enchanted, Miss Rose. Long has it been since Gabriel has brought a partner to one of my humble gatherings.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just echoed his greeting. She had met their host, John Alcroft, before, briefly, but didn’t know much about him personally.

  “I need to speak with you later,” Noble said to him.

  Alcroft inclined his head. “I can slip away around eleven. Will that do?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Of course. Enjoy the evening, Gabriel, Miss Rose. Until eleven.”

  Alcroft moved past them to greet more guests, and Noble guided her farther inside. The party was in full swing. People were dancing and chatting, a freer atmosphere than a strict ton gathering, yet she saw more than one person she knew. More than one person who could identify her.

  Noble’s hand ran down her back. “Don’t think about them. They won’t recognize you.”

  She felt the tensed muscles in her back relax. She knew it was true. She hadn’t even recognized herself in the mirror. “I’ve never seen you at a gathering, even though you seem comfortable enough here. Do you dance?”

  He smiled suddenly, roguishly, and held out his hand. “I do.”

  He pulled her onto the dance floor, straight into the middle of an already formed set. Bad form, but he somehow seemed above the censure.

  And that reason was that he could move. There were three types of men in the ton. The ones who were forced to dance, the ones who seemed to enjoy it and were always available to dance, and the ones who made it an art form. Gabriel Noble was definitely one of the latter.

  It was like dancing with liquid. Like being liquid. Every sweep and curl executed with precision and flair. Never had she had a partner who could move like this. Never had she been twisted and handled and shown off on the floor.

  Never had she met a man like Gabriel Noble.

  Was he lacking in anything? Besides some of his personal skills, of course—he was quite a bear most of the time. Although past the first few days, he had mellowed slightly toward her�
��not counting the barbs that he tossed every so often. But the affection he displayed for his brother and the people with whom he worked told a different story.

  And even with the animosity, every time she had been in a situation where someone could have harmed her—her brother (not that he would have), the other prisoners, or the barristers—he had taken definitive action.

  If you were in Noble’s circle, you were obviously under his protection.

  He smiled as he showed her off in a turn. She knew she looked like a wonderful dancer at that moment, and even though she was passably good, he made her look great.

  He brought her close again and she could see something in his green eyes, unhidden behind the mask. They had carried that same look earlier when he had been about to kiss her. Heat swept through her, but he simply turned her again.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Which one was that?” His body touched hers.

  “Do you attend these functions often?”

  “No.” He twirled her. “Just Alcroft’s. And his masquerades are the best. Sometimes I think he holds them so often because he knows I will attend.”

  “You are good friends? I thought you disliked anyone to the manor born?”

  She felt his muscles tense beneath her glove, beneath his jacket. “Alcroft and I have been friends a long time. And I don’t dislike everyone in the upper classes.”

  “If you say so.”

  He spun her and her breath caught. Her feet barely touched the floor when she danced with him. “I do.”

  “Where did you learn to dance like this?”

  “Down by the docks.”

  She tried to look down her nose at him at the same time she held onto him. She had a feeling the heat she could feel in her cheeks and the excitement from dancing showed on her face and negated any glare.

  “My mother, if you must know.”

  “You danced like this with your mother?”

  “I was required to stand in at dance lessons at one time in my life. It was easy enough to apply what I had learned before.”

  “Dance lessons, where?”

  He pulled her against him again as they turned and his green eyes turned smoky as he lowered his head. Her breath caught and she had the inane thought that this kissing activity really required practicing right now.