White Lace and Promises

by Natasha Blackthorne

  Ruth sagged in the chair, her tense face visibly relaxing. “Then you know why I am here.”

  Of course he did. Were they actually so stupid as to think he would invest in the shop and not keep in touch with what was happening with it? He leaned harder against the front of his desk, holding his hands up to his chest, steeple fashion, and watched her squirm in her seat.

  “The shop.” Her voice was quite steady now. “Charlie drew a mortgage on it. Business is down. He can’t pay.”

  “Let them take it.”

  She paled. “What?”

  “Let the creditors have it. Charlie has no intention of making anything of it.”

  She gaped at him for several moments. “But how shall we live?”

  His first instinct was to tell her to go to the devil. But her young children were Beth’s beloved nieces. They were blameless. And Beth would hurt if her half-siblings were put onto the street. “I shall purchase you a modest house to live in and provide a trust you may draw a set amount from each month. It will provide you with a comfortable living.”

  Ruth straightened in her chair, her brown eyes flaring resentfully. “Seems to me you’d be more than a little worried over your wife’s relations living like poor folk. Wouldn’t look good.”

  “Wait—you haven’t heard me out. I will only provide this if you agree to make your home in Philadelphia.”

  Her brows drew together. “Philadelphia?”

  “Boston, Charleston—I don’t care where you live, so long as you stay away from New York and my wife.”

  “Maybe she’s your wife, but she was my sister long ere that.”

  “You don’t treat her like a beloved sister.”

  A cagey look settled over her features. “You’re forgetting yourself.”

  His brows shot up of their own accord. “Am I?”

  Good God, did the woman think she had any leverage here?

  She tapped a finger to the side of her nose. “And how would people talk if they knew the truth about you and Elizabeth?”

  He schooled his expression to remain impassive. “What’s the truth?”

  “She was your fancy piece. Your little doxy.”

  “You’d better close your mouth while you’re ahead.”

  Ruth laughed, the sound low and snide. “She thought she was so clever, meeting with her lovers and acting so innocent and pure. But I smelt it on her. Her eyes always lit up so brightly afterwards. For days. After Dr Wade married his little wifey, I knew she’d be too proud to go on with him. But she had someone all along after that. I figured it was someone from the neighbourhood. Who’d have guessed she was aiming so high?”

  He fixed her with a bland look. “Why would I have married her if I could bed her for free?”

  “I expected her to round long ere now. But then, maybe she lost it and you are both keeping quiet on it.”

  His blood went cold. “You think I’ll pay you more—that I’ll allow you to blackmail me?”

  “You should just think about who you’re dealing with.”

  “I think you should get out of my sight before I change my mind about the house and trust.”

  For a moment, she glared at him. “I don’t believe you’re so calm about it. I know how you are about appearances. You nearly drive Elizabeth crazy with it. You’d die before you’d let anyone know you’d been fucking her before the wedding.”

  “Keep pressing me and find out how soon I can have you and Charlie thrown into prison for non-payment of debts.”

  Her mouth fell open and she gaped dumbly. Then her eyes narrowed. “You’d never do that.”

  “Don’t test me, Ruth.”

  “What about my daughters? Don’t you think Beth would hate you for taking their mother from them?”

  “Beth can raise your daughters just fine.”

  “But she’d never forgive you.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. However, she’d be free from your manipulations.”

  “You’re insane. There’s something not right about you. I told Elizabeth that from the first day you came to the shop to ask to court her.”

  He leant forward. “I want you gone from New York within the next week.”

  “And if I don’t go?”

  “I’ll have you charged with blackmail and bodily removed.”

  She paled, then collected her handbag, jumped to her feet and dashed out of the door.

  He let his body sag. Christ. He could never allow Beth to find out what desperation had led her sister to. Beth could never know how Ruth had threatened to throw her to the wolves. She’d be crushed. He wouldn’t have it. But Ruth was sure to report a skewed version of this interview. Beth was going to be so angry with him. She might not forgive him.

  * * * *

  Beth sat before her mirror, her head still stinging from Miss Fairchild’s attack upon it with the silver-backed hairbrush. The woman seemed to believe vigorous brushing was essential to a lady’s vital being.

  “You’re awfully quiet this afternoon, Ruth.”

  “I—I asked your husband about the situation with Charlie.” Ruth blurted the words. Tears streaked her round, ruddy face.

  Dread twisted through Beth’s stomach. “Oh no, you didn’t.”

  “You said you didn’t have the money.”

  Oh, this did not bode well. Beth took a ragged breath. “What did he say?”

  Ruth sighed, her eyes gone glassy and forlorn. “He says I’ve got to make my home in Philadelphia or else he won’t help us.”

  Beth’s heart seemed to stop. “He said what?”

  “He says he will provide me with a house and a monthly income but I must make my home in Philadelphia. Or Boston or Charleston—he doesn’t care so long as I stay away from you.”

  Ruth’s words spun around in Beth’s mind. They wouldn’t slow down long enough for her to make real sense of them. But her blood heated almost of its own accord, making her heart leap back to life with a series of jarring jerks. “I see.”

  “I see.”

  “He says let the creditors take the shop; he doesn’t care.”

  Beth jumped to her feet. “I have to go and speak with my husband.”

  How dare Grey think he could use his money to dictate her family relations? If he didn’t want to give Charlie the money, if he truly wished to let the shop go to creditors, that was one thing. But to use the money to control and manipulate matters to his own liking? He had no right. No right at all. Tears flowed from her eyes—tears of pure anger.

  She swiped her eyes with her sleeve, then went straight to his chamber. His private chamber, where she wasn’t welcome even though she was his wife. She raised her hand, prepared to knock upon it like a supplicant. Anger smouldered through her. Did he ever knock when he entered her chamber? No, he did not. She wouldn’t take this sort of treatment any longer. Like she was a mistress and not his wife. Her hand flew to the knob and she jerked open the door.

  Grey stood by the mirror, tweaking his cravat while Will brushed fussily at his dark blue evening jacket with a lint brush.

  They both paused and turned to her.

  Will’s mouth dropped open but Grey’s expression softened.

  “You may take the remainder of the evening off, Will.”

  The short, wiry valet laid the brush on the washstand and hurried out, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

  “Ruth came to you, bearing her tales,” he said. A statement not a question.

  She struggled to keep her voice level. “You had no right to try and coerce my sister through money. Deny her the loan—I do understand your reasons—but you have no right to demand that she keep away from me.”

  He stared at her unwaveringly, showing not one whit of shame. “She’s using you. I want her gone from your life.”

  Tear welled in her eyes; whether from anger or frustration, she couldn’t sort out. She wasn’t some weakling dependent on his paternalistic protection. Why couldn’t he see her as she was?

  “Beth, it is f
or the best.”

  “It’s not your place to say!”

  “We shall have to discuss it later, Beth, I am running late for a very important supper party.”

  Like a deluge of icy water, shock replaced her anger. “What?”

  “I have a supper party to attend. We shall discuss this matter later.” He parsed his words as if speaking to a child.

  She gaped at him. “You’re going out? Tonight?”

  His features softened even more. “I know, Beth, but I have to.”

  “But it is Jan’s first night to rejoin us at the dining table.”

  “I know. Believe me, I don’t want this. However, something pressing has come up.”

  “He’s been so ill.” Her throat seized up and she had to swallow. “Grey, the doctor said he was bleeding under his skull. He could have died.”

  “I’ll make it up to him. Later. But for tonight I have to go.” He walked to her, touched her shoulder and lowered his head.

  She stood there, her heart aching. His firm mouth briefly pressed hers. She accepted it numbly. He lifted his head and caressed her arms through the long sleeves of her velvet evening gown. His silver gaze searched hers. “Don’t be this way, Beth—please try to understand my position.”

  Her aching heart rose into her throat. “Have you considered taking him with you to Philadelphia?”

  His hands stilled on her and his face closed off. “We shall speak later.”

  “Later?”

  “Yes, in your chamber. I shall find a way to leave early.” He squeezed her arms and dropped a kiss on her forehead. A casual, affectionate gesture wholly out of tune with the mood of the moment.

  He released her and she watched as he made a hurried departure, leaving her alone amid the stark, masculine decor.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It seemed an eternity since the clock on the night table had chimed one in the morning. With a jerk of her head, Beth glanced at it again. One twenty-two. On an exaggerated sigh, she sat up. No use—she couldn’t sleep. He had promised to come home early. She propped her pillow against the mahogany headboard and gave it a punch. What was she angrier about now? His high-handed treatment of Ruth? His neglect of Jan? The slew of broken promises and lonely hours trailing from their wedding day to this moment?

  Perhaps she ought to have some claret. Several glasses, until she forgot all of this and drifted off to sleep. But no—she wanted to remain angry. For her whole life, she’d been treated as though she didn’t matter. Kept in the attic with the servants when she’d been a member of the family. She wouldn’t keep that place here in her own husband’s house. Not any longer.

  The sound of boots in the hallway made her heart catch. However, they passed, soon followed by the click of a door. A fresh, heated anger ignited within her. He hadn’t kept his promise. Not one fucking part of it.

  She leapt out of bed and, not even bothering to don her wrapper, she left her chamber and went to his.

  He stood in the middle of the chamber in his stockinged feet, the glow from the banked coals turning his shirtsleeves pale orange. He turned, staggering a bit, then stared for a moment. He grinned. “Have you come to visit me, my love?”

  He approached her and touched her hair. “You have never come to me in my bed.”

  He came closer, leaning down as if to kiss her. Whisky fumes overwhelmed her. Nausea rose, only to be chased away by a surge of energy born of pure ire.

  She put up her hands and slapped his chest. “You are stinking, reeling drunk!”

  She had never seen him like this.

  “There were so many toasts, my Beth—so much to discuss. How to best handle the blockades to come. What should be done politically. And there’s always a new investor. And he always wants to share in a friendly drink. I can never refuse, or else I’ll seem rude and lose an investor. Without investors, I cannot expand without cost to my personal fortune and that would hurt Jan and you. Sexton Shipping must expand to survive. Those who stand still shall be swallowed whole by predators.” He bent towards her again.

  She took several steps back. “Well, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

  He followed her, smiling at her. “You think I am too drunk… You think I shall disappoint you?”

  “I think you’re an ass and I am sick at the sight of you.”

  “Oh, my love, don’t be that way.” His eyes burnt like silver fire.

  She backed up several more steps. Her bottom hit the wall. “Grey, you promised you’d come home. You promised we could talk.”

  He cupped her face. “I know, my darling, I know. But this meeting was important. However, there was never a moment when I wasn’t wishing I could be here with you.”

  He leant over her, his whisky-laden breath blowing over her face. But she was more used to the odour now. It mingled with his spice cologne and tobacco-tinged, masculine scent. An inexplicably enticing tang.

  His mouth came down on hers with soft intensity, his hand cupped along the angle of her jaw and his body pressed to hers. Hell’s bells. He spoke the truth. He wasn’t too drunk. His cock pressed into her, huge and hard as iron. His tongue slipped into her mouth and the taste of whisky suddenly became alluring. Delicious. Intoxicating.

  How was she supposed to stay angry with him at a moment like this?

  Her body went weak and she sagged against him, reaching up to clasp his shoulders. Wetness gushed between her legs. She wanted one thing—his cock in her cunt. And she wanted it now.

  No.

  She would not allow this. She took her hands from his shoulders, pushed at him and tore her mouth from his.

  He stared down with hooded eyes. “Beth?”

  God, she wanted nothing more than his mouth on hers. His body pressing hers. The intensity of her need, her seething anger, demanded expression. She slapped his chest with her hands. Hard, this time.

  He frowned. “What the devil?”

  “I waited up for you, you lying jackass,” she hissed.

  He grinned. “You say that now but I know how to make my kitten purr.”

  His slurring voice added a layer of lazy sensuality as he cupped her breast and squeezed.

  Tenderness radiated through her, turning into pain. Mother of God. She winced and cried out.

  He released her instantly.

  She arced her hand again, prepared to strike his handsome face.

  He caught her wrist and thrust her hand down and scowled. “What the devil?”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts. “You don’t have to grope me like some ape-handed tar.”

  His eyes frosted over. “Have you been groped by many of them, Beth?”

  “Shut up and let me return to my own bed. Alone.”

  “What the devil, Beth?” he repeated. “I barely touched you.”

  She drew her spine straight. “I shall speak with you in the morning.”

  His lip curled up. “Oh, so this is how it shall be. The least infraction and her highness shall not grant the favours of her body.”

  She backed away from him, reaching behind herself for the door. “I am done with you this night.”

  “If you aren’t happy in this marriage, you should know I can afford a divorce.” His cold, flat tone settled like a hard lump in her stomach. Then the meaning of his words broke through to her sense and her fingertips went all tingly and her head seemed to go floating above her.

  He had never spoken thus to her.

  She gaped at him.

  He lifted his chin, his angular, handsome features taking on that closed, arrogant look that sent hot, infuriated blood rushing through her veins. It grounded her. Brought her head back to her body and the chamber stopped wavering. He intended to stand there so calmly and tell her he would put her from his life?

  She let out a long gush of air then ran at him and grasped his open shirt collar. “You will not put me aside. You will not.”

  “You seem to be begging for it, Beth.”

  “I don’t know what kind of mil
ksop Juliana was, but I will not be put aside.”

  He stared down his narrow, straight nose. Still with that touch of arrogance, that distance. “And I don’t know why you’d fight to stay in this house, by my side. You are not happy here and you find even less pleasure in my company.”

  “I find myself in your company so rarely, I scarcely can judge how I feel anymore.”

  She hadn’t intended it but her words landed like a challenge between them. She could feel the moment his arrogant mask cracked. The charge of his suddenly uncapped emotions snapped in the air. Flutters swirled around her navel.

  “Shall I remind you?” He grasped her shoulders, bent his head and took her mouth, roughly this time. His tongue was like a blade of flame, consuming her.

  Did he really think he could put her aside? Forget her and move on with his life? Oh, she’d show him. She’d imprint herself so indelibly on his senses, he’d never forget her—never have a moment when he couldn’t feel her touch, smell her scent, taste her tongue upon his own. She put all of her anger, all of her fear, all of her passion into the kiss. Without unlocking their mouths, they were already fumbling with each other’s clothing.

  Their naked bodies touched, his body hair brushing her smooth skin with electric effect. She pressed herself into his hard, muscled frame. He groaned, and her feet left the floor as he swept her up into his arms. He carried her and laid her upon the bed. The dark green velvet spread on his bed was cool to her skin. He moved over her in an instant, his erection hot and throbbing against her belly. He brought his mouth down on hers and she kissed him back, open-mouthed, with every bit of her heart and soul. She clutched his shoulders, insensible words escaping her lips.

  He shifted position and thrust into her. She dug her nails into his upper back and she arched her pelvis up and wrapped her legs about his waist, straining to make their connection as deep as possible. He took her in a vigorous, almost bruising rhythm, his cock banging against the opening to her womb, his lower stomach pounding her sensitive nub. All of it again and again. It was like all those frantic, impassioned couplings of their short courtship. The contractions of her cunt, swift and hard, swept her away in a torrent of bliss.