The Price of Pleasure

by Connie Mason

  “Ride me, Fleur,” Reed murmured into her ear.

  Fleur rose slightly, grasped his cock in both hands, positioned it between her thighs and pushed down hard. He was seated so deep she could feel him touch her soul.

  A groan gurgled in Reed’s throat. “I could die a happy man right now.”

  Then he grasped her hips and guided her up and down over his erection to meet his frantic thrusts. They were both breathing hard. Fleur knew completion was coming fast for both of them. She tried to hold it off, wanting to keep him in her body for as long as humanly possible, to savor his possession, her power over him. She wanted the pleasure to go on forever.

  But there was no holding back. When he lifted his head to suckle her nipples, spasms seized her, sending erotic sensations raging through her body. She was no longer Fleur Fontaine; she belonged body and soul to Reed Harwood, the Earl of Hunthurst, a man she could never have.

  Reed felt her small explosions squeezing his cock and knew she had reached completion. A frantic wildness broke inside him as he raced toward oblivion. When she arched violently and cried out his name, he could hold back no longer. Grasping her hips, he surged into her warmth, again and again, until the storm within him broke and he spent himself inside her.

  “Marry me, Fleur,” Reed surprised himself by asking. Once he said the words he wanted to call them back. Marriage to anyone was a long way off. He wasn’t ready to be leg-shackled yet, was he?

  Tears sprang to Fleur’s eyes. No man of rank or property or any hopes for the future wanted a woman who couldn’t give him children. “Marry you? I cannot, and you know why. You owe it to your family and the earldom to provide an heir. And you don’t love me. It’s lust and gratitude that you feel.”

  “I don’t know about love because I’ve never experienced it, but it’s more than simple gratitude that I feel for you. As for heirs, I have a cousin, a Frenchman who recently showed up in England.”

  “You cannot mean that. No self-respecting Englishman would turn his earldom over to a Frenchman. Please, Reed, do not ask me again, for we both know what you suggest is impossible.”

  Fleur might be right, Reed realized. He certainly did not want Duvall to inherit. Too many things about his cousin didn’t add up. And though he wanted Fleur in his life, he had spoken without thinking. Marriage was a big step, one he wasn’t ready to take yet.

  Reed allowed the subject to drop. “Go to sleep,” he rasped. “We’ve both had a busy day.”

  Reed awoke with Fleur sprawled atop him. Rays of brilliant sunlight stretched their fingers through the windows. Damn, he’d overslept! Reed lifted a still-sleeping Fleur off him and laid her gently down on the bed. Then he rose, made his morning ablutions without waking her, dressed and went down to breakfast. Updike met him at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I was on my way to awaken you, my lord. Your grandmother is here. It took a great deal of persuasion to convince her to wait for you in the parlor.” His brows rose suggestively. “She wanted to pull you out of bed herself, and we both know why that wouldn’t have been a good idea.”

  Updike was too knowledgeable for his own good. “What time is it?”

  “Going on eleven.”

  “Good God, I didn’t realize it was so late! Did Grandmamma say what she wanted?”

  “She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. One more thing you should know. Madame Lisette is with her. A tea tray was just rolled in, and they seem to be chatting quite amiably.”

  Reed spit out a curse. “I’d better get in there fast. No telling what Lisette is telling Grandmamma. I’ll need coffee, Updike. Hot and black—to fit my mood.”

  Reed steeled himself before pasting a smile on his face and presenting himself to his grandmother.

  “There you are,” she said.

  He marched over to the old lady and placed a kiss on her papery cheek. “I didn’t know you were an early riser, Grandmamma. You didn’t have to come here. I would have come to you had you summoned me.”

  She slanted a glance at Lisette. “I hadn’t heard from you in several days and began to worry. I decided to come myself to see that you hadn’t suffered a relapse after your nasty experience in France.”

  “As you can see, I am fine.”

  “Lisette tells me you brought her and Countess Fontaine out of France during a most difficult time for them. I thought you were finished with all that cloak-and-dagger business. Your time would be better spent looking for a wife. Not that I’m sorry you rescued two damsels in distress, you understand,” she added, sending Lisette a condescending smile.

  “This was one assignment I couldn’t refuse, Grandmamma. Fleur and Lisette saved my life. It was my turn to save theirs.”

  The dowager glanced at Lisette. “Have you and the countess made plans for the future? There’s quite a colony of émigrés in London. I have befriended many and often hold salons in my home for them. I’ll send you and the countess an invitation the next time I hold one.”

  Lisette began chatting in fluent French with Grandmamma. Reed tuned them out, as he often did women’s prattle.

  Their conversation ended when Grandmamma turned her attention to Reed and said, “Well, now that your life has settled down, what are your plans for finding a wife?”

  “I have none,” Reed said flatly, recalling his ill-timed proposal and Fleur’s refusal.

  “That won’t do at all,” Grandmamma snorted. “I’ll give a ball and invite all my friends with daughters or granddaughters of marriageable age. Yes,” she said, “that’s precisely what I shall do.”

  Before Reed could form an answer, a footman arrived with a pot of coffee. Reed poured a cup and drank it down, burning his tongue in the process. He poured himself another cup, blew on it and brought it to his lips. Before he could take a sip, Fleur breezed into the study.

  “Updike said I would find you here.” She twirled around, her skirts fluttering about her trim ankles. “How do you like my new flocked muslin? Oh,” she gasped, stopping abruptly. “I didn’t know you had company. Am I interrupting?”

  “Not at all,” Reed said, setting down his cup. “I’d like you to meet my grandmother, the dowager Countess of Hunthurst.”

  “Grandmamma, this is Fleur Fontaine, the woman who saved my life.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Fleur made her curtsy to the dowager. “I’m pleased to meet you, my lady.”

  “No,” the old lady insisted, “it is I who am glad to meet you. You are the reason my grandson is alive. I understand you are a widow. Please accept my condolences. Were you married long?”

  “Five years, my lady.”

  “Five years! You must have been very young when you wed.”

  “I was seventeen. I lived in France for the entire five years I was wed to Pierre.”

  “Do you have children, Lady Fleur?”

  “Pierre and I were not blessed with children.”

  The gleam that had entered the dowager’s eyes when she’d first met Fleur died. Reed knew exactly what Grandmamma was thinking: Once Fleur admitted to not having conceived in all the years of her marriage, she was no longer a possible mate for her grandson.

  “What are your plans? Obviously you cannot remain in Reed’s quarters if you wish to preserve your reputation.”

  “Lisette and I intend to repair to the country as soon as I hear from my Aunt Charlotte. Until that time, an inn will suffice.”

  Reed heaved a sigh when Grandmamma didn’t pursue the subject of Fleur’s living arrangements. Turning to him, the old lady said, “I’ve decided to hold a ball in your honor a week from Saturday next. The invitations will go out to all my friends with marriageable daughters.”

  Before Reed could reply, the dowager took Fleur’s hands in both of hers and said, “Because you and Lisette are dear to my heart, you are both welcome. I’ll invite some eligible widowers with children for you to look over. You are still young; some man would be pleased to have you for a wife.”

  “Grandmamma, please,” Re
ed chided, mortified by his grandmother’s attempt at matchmaking. “For one thing, I’m not ready yet to settle down. I just escaped hell and need time to work it out of my system. Trust me, I’m not husband material right now. Hold off on the ball until a later date.”

  The dowager frowned, concern etching her wrinkled features. “Is there something you aren’t telling me that I should know about your incarceration, Reed?”

  “No, Grandmamma,” Reed denied. “As you can see, I am fit as a fiddle. Let’s just say I’m not in the proper frame of mind for marriage. Can we change the subject?”

  “I understand, and will postpone the ball if you insist, but don’t put me off too long.” She rose with the help of her cane.

  “By the way, a distant relative from the French branch of the family called on me recently. Gallard Duvall informed me that he is now living in London. I can’t say I was impressed with the boy.” Grandmamma sniffed.

  “Actually,” she confided, “I had him investigated and learned his claim is true. If you fail to produce an heir, Duvall is the next in line to inherit. Heaven preserve us if he ultimately ends up with the earldom. That branch of our family has never been favored by Society. Your father would turn in his grave if a distant cousin of his, and a Frenchman at that, ended up with the title and estate.”

  “I’ve met Duvall,” Reed informed her. “He was staying with Helen during Jason’s last illness. She said he was a great help to her.”

  “Be that as it may, you know what you must do.”

  Reed placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I’ll escort you to your carriage, Grandmamma.”

  The dowager smiled at Fleur. “Thank you again for my grandson’s life. If I can be of help to you, you have but to ask.”

  Fleur watched the dowager leave with a sinking heart. If she had had dreams of marrying Reed, his grandmother had just dashed them. Fleur had refused Reed’s spur-of-themoment proposal with good reason. She couldn’t give him what he needed, no matter how right they felt together. If she wanted to wed, which she didn’t, she would have to look to a widower who already had children, just as the dowager had suggested. Her hint couldn’t have been broader.

  “You look lovely in your new gown, ma petite,” Lisette complimented. “I could tell by the look on his lordship’s face that he thought so too.”

  For all the good it will do me, Fleur silently lamented. She had to forget Reed, just as he would forget her during his search for a young, fertile bride.

  “I must write immediately to Aunt Charlotte,” Fleur said. “We must not impose on Reed any longer than necessary.”

  “You aren’t imposing,” Reed said from the doorway. He strode into the room. “I hope nothing Grandmamma said upset you.”

  “Your grandmother said nothing that isn’t true,” Fleur replied. “We both know our living arrangement is temporary.”

  A frown puckered Reed’s brow, then quickly disappeared. “I’m starving and I know you must be, too.” He offered his arm. “Shall we have breakfast before calling on Lord Porter?”

  Last night’s strenuous activity had given Fleur a ravenous appetite. “Will you join us, Lisette?”

  “I ate earlier with Updike and the others in the servants’ dining room. I promised Cook I’d show her the art of French cuisine.”

  “I will see you later, then,” Fleur returned. “We have plans to make concerning our future.”

  Reed escorted Fleur to the dining room. They filled their plates and sat down.

  “Your grandmother loves you very much,” Fleur said between bites.

  “The feeling is mutual,” Reed replied. “I’m glad she didn’t offend you. She was rather insistent upon my marrying and setting up my nursery. But we both know I have demons to slay before I can wed anyone.

  “I still have nightmares. Sometimes I dream I’m in a dark pit from which there is no escape.”

  Fleur searched his face. “Those dreams will pass in time.”

  “You have a calming influence on me, Fleur. I never have nightmares when you’re in my arms. You’re good for me.”

  Fleur gazed down at her plate. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who will suit you better than I, someone who can give you children and please your grandmother.” She rose. “I’ll be ready to accompany you to Lord Porter’s office as soon as I write a letter to my aunt.”

  Thirty minutes later, Reed’s new coachman stood beside the carriage as they entered and closed the door behind them. The ride to Whitehall was short. Fleur and Reed were ushered into Porter’s office immediately. Lord Porter stood to greet them, kissing Fleur’s hand first, then shaking Reed’s.

  “You cannot believe how relieved I was to hear you had returned safely to England, Lady Fontaine,” Porter said. “Did all go as planned?”

  “Not quite,” Reed explained. “Our escape was a close thing, but as you see, we stand before you unscathed.”

  “Thank you for seeing to my swift escape,” Fleur said. “I am happy to be back in my homeland.”

  “I’m sorry about your husband, my lady. However, your service to the Crown is very much appreciated. Three of our men would have perished if not for you, Hunthurst among them. You have our heartfelt gratitude.”

  He pressed an envelope into her hand. “We realize that you no longer have your husband or his fortune to rely upon, so as a small gesture of our appreciation, please accept a draft in the amount of five thousand pounds, drawn on the Bank of England.”

  Fleur tried to hand the envelope back to Porter. “I never expected a reward for serving my country.”

  “Nevertheless, you shall have one. What are your plans, my dear?”

  “I’ve written to my Aunt Charlotte and will post the letter after I leave here. Lisette and I hope to join her in the country soon.”

  Porter appeared startled. “Would that be Lady Charlotte Greenwood?”

  Fleur broke into a smile. “Why, yes. Do you know her?”

  The look of pity Porter gave Fleur set her heart to pounding. Had something happened to Aunt Charlotte?

  “I’ve known your aunt for many years. I learned about you from her. Your letters to her were delivered to me, then sent on by special messenger. Please sit down, my dear. I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

  A dark dread settled in Fleur’s chest. She sank into a chair. “What is it? Has something happened to Aunt Charlotte?”

  “The last letter I sent on to your aunt was returned. Your aunt died suddenly in her sleep several weeks ago. My man spoke with her doctor and confirmed that Charlotte died of heart failure.

  “Her will was read after her death. She left her house and estate to you. Unfortunately, there was little money left in her estate. I believe she lived on a small portion left to her by her father.”

  Reed reached for Fleur’s hand, giving it a little squeeze. Fleur’s voice broke on a sob. “Aunt Charlotte was my only living relative. She raised me. I cannot believe she is gone.”

  “I’m sorry to impart such sad news,” Porter said. “Do you still plan to retire in the country?”

  Fleur pulled herself together. She was truly on her own now. Thank God for Lisette. “I’m not sure what I’ll do, unless . . . I’d like to keep busy. Do you by chance have another assignment for me?”

  “As a matter of fact . . . ”

  “No!” Reed protested. “Fleur has done enough. Endangering her life again is out of the question.”

  Fleur ignored his outburst. “You were saying, Lord Porter? How can I be of use to you?”

  “Fleur,” Reed warned.

  “Hear me out, Hunthurst,” Porter said. “I’ve been trying to infiltrate the colony of émigrés with little success. My office has been actively seeking the man who betrayed you. The information we’ve gathered so far indicates that an émigré might be involved.”

  He directed his gaze at Fleur. “As the former wife of a French count, Lady Fontaine would be accepted by the émigrés.

  “Where is this leading, Por
ter?” Reed growled.

  “I need someone to attend salons and gatherings held for the émigrés, and it must be someone they will trust and open up to. All I ask is that Lady Fontaine ingratiate herself to those Frenchmen now living in London and listen to what they say. One of them may be a French spy.”

  “No,” Reed said before Fleur could form an answer.

  “It’s not your decision, Reed,” Fleur reminded him.

  “So you’ll do it?” Porter said excitedly. “We’ve been waiting for just this kind of opportunity.”

  “I’m sorry, Porter, but Fleur won’t be available for any more cloak-and-dagger assignments. Since I was the one betrayed, I’ll find the traitor for you.”

  Porter glared at Reed. “It won’t be that easy.”

  “I feel strongly that the man who betrayed me is not an émigré,” Reed asserted. “I’m convinced you’ll find the man in our own ranks.”

  “I’ll do it,” Fleur said. “What do I have to lose?”

  “Your life, for one thing,” Reed bit out.

  “I have no husband, no children, no one but Lisette will be affected by what I do.”

  Reed felt as if a hand had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. Did Fleur care so little for her own life? Did she consider him no one? She was wrong. Dead wrong. He cared deeply about her. He couldn’t bear it if something happened to her.

  “Is there any way I can change your mind?” Reed asked. “You’re young yet. You haven’t even begun to live. Why place yourself in harm’s way again?”

  “This assignment is tame compared to what I did in France,” Fleur replied. “I won’t be in any danger.” She turned to Porter. “I’ll do it, my lord.”

  “You are a true patriot, my lady. I’ll see that you receive invitations to functions that émigrés are likely to attend. Where can I contact you?”

  “Lady Fontaine will be staying at Hunthurst mansion on Park Avenue,” Reed said. “My sister-in-law and her sister are in residence now. I planned to move my entire household to the mansion soon anyway. There’s no sense in keeping bachelor quarters when the mansion is roomier and more comfortable. There are sufficient chaperones in residence to protect Fleur’s reputation.”