The Rogue Prince

by Margo Maguire

  “The children are in the nursery, having lunch,” the nurse said. “And I decided to take this opportunity…Even though I understand I may be speaking out of turn—”

  “What is it, Hawkins?” Maggie interjected.

  “Well.” She was at least ten years older than Maggie, and had been a solid, reassuring presence at Blackmore Manor ever since Zachary’s birth. She’d always known what to do when someone was hurt or ill, and was completely dedicated to Maggie’s children. Hawkins smoothed her skirts. “I think you should know that Zachary is a perfectly normal little boy. And Lily might be a bit shy, but she will outgrow it.”

  “I had hoped so,” Maggie said.

  “Lady Aughton’s attitude this afternoon…” Hawkins wrung her hands and her face colored with emotion. “My lady, I swear, it was all I could do to keep from slapping her right in her righteous—! Oh, I beg your pardon, ma’am.”

  Maggie laughed, for she could do so now. There would be no mirth later, when her mother confronted her, as she was sure Beatrice would do. “Why, Hawkins, I do believe you are showing somewhat more temper than usual.”

  “I am sorry I must admit to such base and violent feelings, my lady. But there is a reason that prince of yours turned his back on your sister and stayed with you and the children.”

  “Oh?” That prince of hers? Good lord, did everyone know?

  “It’s obvious he understands true character. And I’m glad he does. You deserve…well, pardon my saying, but you deserve a decent man who cares for you.”

  Maggie bit her lip. “Nurse Hawkins…”

  The woman took a step back, holding up one hand. “I do apologize for putting my nose where it clearly does not belong. But my lady, it’s very pleasing to see you smile again.”

  Hawkins left the room and Maggie sat down in the chair where Thomas had made love to her. The nurse was mistaken if she thought he cared for her. Maggie was his paramour, and their arrangement was nothing more than a temporary liaison that would last only as long as Thomas remained in London.

  Or it burned itself out.

  Maggie knew her reputation would suffer badly if anyone learned either of her secrets. But she wanted to touch Thomas, wanted to feel his hands and lips on her body, and return the shuddering pleasure he’d given her. She longed for him to hold her in his arms, to feel the heat and security of his embrace.

  And it was surprising how much she enjoyed the potency of earning her own funds. Of using her small talent to get her family out of debt. It was almost as exhilarating as the feelings that came over her when Thomas held her.

  Maggie realized she had to think of the consequences of her actions. There could be repercussions for Lily and Zachary. If anyone learned what she was doing—on either front—it would be her children who suffered. She knew better than to count on her family to rally around her. If her activities were somehow exposed, she would have to retreat to Cambridgeshire and try to live down her shame.

  She closed her eyes and wished she knew what to do. She was afraid she’d already fallen partway in love with Thomas. No one had ever stood with her against her sisters, and she feared she was hopeless when he’d taken over with her children, even winning over her shy little daughter.

  Maggie was so new to all this, to the shivery sensations in all the hidden parts of her body that made it impossible to think. She glanced toward the mirror and saw the same awkward girl she’d been at the time of her marriage to Julian. And yet so very much had changed. She’d lived a great deal of her life in the previous eight years, bearing two children and learning a lady’s duties to her husband’s tenants. And yet she felt she’d lived more in the past few days than during her entire marriage to Julian.

  It wasn’t just Thomas. Maggie wished she’d become wiser over the years, but she knew she’d been a naïve fool. Since her return to London, she’d had to grow up quickly and had to set aside a number of her prior beliefs. Her husband had betrayed her in every possible way.

  Her family did not even signify.

  And now she was embarking upon a sensuous adventure that could have serious consequences for herself and her children. She knew that a prudent woman would send a message to Thomas at Delamere House and decline their rendezvous.

  But it wasn’t until his carriage arrived that she made her decision.

  Chapter 12

  Tom was glad to see that his champion horse was limber and moving well, in spite of their weeks at sea. But he had stayed longer than he intended in the paddock with Arrendo and the horse trainer. He realized it was nearly time for Maggie to arrive, and he had not yet washed off the smell of the stable. He summoned one of his men to have a bath prepared for him at the huntsman’s cottage and left the paddock soon thereafter.

  He was just coming off the path in the woods toward the cottage when he saw Maggie stepping out of his carriage with a hand from Oliver Garay. The driver walked to the door of the cottage with her, pushed open the door, tipped his hat to her, then left her there. Garay drove away, and Maggie remained standing under the lintel, looking uncertain.

  She hadn’t seen the cottage before, and probably wondered where Garay had brought her and why Thomas hadn’t come to escort her himself. He started walking toward her, thinking his timing ought to have been better. He should have been inside, waiting for her.

  Even better, he’d have preferred to go down to London for her himself. And yet his earlier discussion with Nate had made him realize he needed to establish some boundaries. Lady Blackmore had far too easily become a fever in his blood. She was an obsession he could not afford. He needed to put some distance between them.

  Enjoy her, but set her aside when it was time.

  She turned as he approached and he felt the power of her gaze at the base of his breastbone. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and Tom picked up his gait. His coat billowed out behind him as he hurried toward her, and she stepped away from the door.

  In spite of Nate’s reminders, Tom caught Maggie up in his arms, and she did not seem to mind that he smelled of leather and horse and earth. She took his kiss greedily, as though she’d been waiting for it since the moment they’d parted in the park, and Tom trembled with the need to be inside her.

  Her shy eagerness was an aphrodisiac that cut directly to his straining cock.

  Tom pulled away and took her hand, leading her into the cottage. There was not much light inside, but he made his way unerringly to the staircase, keeping Maggie in tow. Dropping his coat on the floor, he started up the stairs, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it over his head as they climbed. He picked her up and carried her to the top of the steps, smiling at the sound of her delighted squeal.

  The door of the master bedchamber was ajar, and through it, Tom saw a flickering light. He carried Maggie inside, and eased her down to her feet near the fireplace, beside the tub of steaming water. Pressing a line of kisses to her jaw and neck, he slipped her coat from her shoulders, then cupped her face in his hands and took her mouth with his. He sucked her tongue inside, tasting her, breathing in her roses, pressing his erection against the softness of her body.

  He broke away long enough to start on the buttons of her bodice. “I apologize for not coming for you myself,” he said, nibbling the sweet spot just below her ear.

  She slid her hands up his bare chest and Tom shivered at the exquisite sensation of her touch.

  “You are so hard,” she said, and then blushed at his quick grin.

  “Aye. For you.” He took one of her hands and placed it on the hard length that had been aching with need since the moment he’d left her.

  He sat down on the bed and pulled her between his legs. A haze of arousal softened her eyes, and he watched her while he lowered her bodice and dispensed with her gown. Then he turned her around and started to work on her laces. He pressed a kiss to the delicate indentation of her spine, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath to keep from rushing this. They had all afternoon and at least part of the evening to
spend together. Tom intended to enjoy every hour.

  “Tell me what to do,” she said, turning to face him.

  Tom pulled the corset over her head and absently tossed it to the floor, his attention entirely focused on her. On sweet Maggie in a thin chemise that barely concealed her pretty breasts and the shadow between her legs. Her arms were dappled with freckles and Tom skimmed one finger from her wrist to her shoulder. With his light touch, her nipples pebbled through the cloth of the thin linen, and the air suddenly felt too thick for him to breathe.

  “Just touch me,” he said. At least, he thought he might have said it aloud, but it was entirely possible that his voice had not functioned.

  Maggie scraped her hands down his chest and stopped at his nipples, then slid down to her knees so that her mouth was level with his chest. She circled one hard nipple with her tongue while teasing the other with her fingers.

  Then she moved lower.

  She looked up at him uncertainly, then bit her lower lip and reached for the placket of his trews. Tom’s breath caught when she unfastened it and freed his cock into her cool hands.

  “Aye, lass.” It was all he could do to keep from exploding right then, yet he should be able to withstand far more of her sensual touch.

  “Maggie, wait.” His voice scraped across his throat.

  He stood, moving past Maggie, pulled off his boots and shoved off his trews. He stepped into the water that was still hot. Turning to face Maggie, he saw that her gaze had caught on his fierce erection.

  “I smell of horses,” he said taking the soap and spreading it across his chest, under his arms, and down to his erection.

  He sat down in the water and Maggie came to him then. She reached into the tub and took over for him, sluicing water over his chest and running her slick hands over his skin, washing him.

  His cock surged rigidly when she encircled it, and his heart seemed to stop in his chest when she slid her other hand underneath, gently stroking him.

  Tom could not take much more. He rinsed off quickly, then came out of the tub, splashing water down the sides as he took Maggie into his arms. He felt hot all over, in spite of the dampness of his body. He speared his tongue into her mouth and she tilted her head as he deepened their kiss.

  He slipped her chemise from her shoulders and when the damp garment fell to the floor, she stepped out of it. Tom lifted her into his arms and took her to the bed. Putting one knee on the mattress, he laid her on the blankets, but she pushed herself onto her knees and reached for him.

  Her breasts swayed with her movement, and Tom could not resist cupping them in his hands. He bent to lick one of her nipples, and Maggie put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto his back on the bed. “Your turn.”

  She straddled him, resuming her attentions where she left off before his bath, stroking him gently, then bending to place a light kiss on the tip of his cock. Tom bucked in her hand when she swirled her tongue around the head and sucked him fully into her mouth. He grabbed fistfuls of the blanket beneath him as she became even bolder, licking and sucking, sliding him in and out of her mouth.

  He’d never known anything as erotic as the sight of Maggie’s full lips gliding over his cock, pleasuring him to the limit of his control. She pushed him to the very brink, but he had no wish to stop her.

  She moaned and cupped her own breasts, and Tom almost came, watching her pleasure herself. That she was aroused by what she was doing to him was beyond anything in his experience.

  He shifted suddenly, unable to take any more, and drew her upright to lower her onto his erection. Her legs bracketed his hips and her eyes met his as she moved above him, driving him toward the most volatile climax he’d ever known. His muscles quaked, and when she went still, tightening around him in spasms of pleasure, Tom exploded inside her.

  He’d forgotten to withdraw from her at the last instant, but couldn’t find the energy to care.

  Maggie lay against Thomas, her head tucked under his chin, her breasts against his chest and one of his thighs resting between her legs. She wanted to know everything about him, and yet…It was not really her place to know.

  Maggie felt his breath ruffling her hair, his big hand caressing her back, and wondered if her contentment in Thomas’s arms was naïve or out of place. She admitted to being far too unsophisticated to understand men and their motivations.

  Yet there’d been no question that Thomas had wanted her, and it seemed that he felt just as satisfied as she.

  “You have barely any accent,” she said in an attempt to keep it light, keep it simple. She was the man’s mistress, and nothing more.

  “Hmm…”

  “What is your country like? Mr. Kimbridge said it’s on the bottom of the world. What did he mean?”

  His hand resumed its lazy circles across her back. “You’ve seen a globe—a spherical map of the world?”

  Maggie nodded. Her stepfather had had one in his study. She’d been surprised to see how tiny England was, compared to all the other countries.

  “If you think of the globe in halves,” he said, “split horizontally through the center, Sabedoria lies in the lower half.”

  “It’s a very long way from England, then.” A mistress would not feel the same painful twinge in the region of her heart at the thought of the many miles that would soon be between them.

  He said nothing for a moment. “It will take several months’ travel to return to Sabedoria,” he finally replied. He rolled her onto her back and settled himself over her, keeping one of her legs between his. He bent toward her and nuzzled her lips. “You’ll be pleased to know your questions are along the same lines as those of your esteemed foreign minister, Lord Castlereagh.”

  “Perhaps I should be a government minister,” she said in an attempt at a jest. The last thing she wanted to think about was Thomas returning to his country.

  “Aye,” he growled as he moved down her body. “You would dazzle your adversaries with your pretty smile.”

  He took one of her nipples into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it while he slid his hand down to the crease of her thigh.

  Maggie arched her back. “M-my smile?” she squeaked.

  He teased her other nipple with his forefinger and thumb, and then started to move downward. He made a hot trail to her navel with his lips, and Maggie took his head in her hands as he moved farther south. She opened for him, whimpering as he played with her, using his tongue.

  The earth shifted beneath her as Thomas sucked and licked, then added the touch of his hand to his ministrations. Maggie felt her muscles flex and her womb tighten, and Thomas suddenly raised himself up. Gathering her into his arms, he thrust inside her. He held her close as he moved, his rhythm intense and fast. Maggie’s climax came upon her immediately, and every subsequent move that Thomas made took her to greater heights.

  He took her mouth in a wild, savage kiss that possessed her while taking a piece of him. She sucked his tongue hard and tightened her legs around his waist, and he suddenly erupted with a harsh groan, his muscles contracting in a tremulous rush of completion.

  Maggie felt boneless as she eased her legs down, but Thomas pulled her onto her side and they lay facing each other, their hearts and breaths slowing. She gazed into his eyes as though she could see into his soul, and realized this was no way for a mistress to behave. He was going to be gone before long…

  Or perhaps one day he would decide to take another mistress.

  Maggie closed her eyes and pressed her face to his chest against the sudden pang of distress that filled her. Her breath caught as she fought to compose herself, quelling the foolish emotions that had no place in an affair.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Oh, I…” She had to lighten the moment. Even more, she needed to return to reality. “I’m surprised you don’t have a social function to attend tonight.”

  “I do,” he said, sliding out of her, but holding her close. “There is a ball somewhere or other. Later.
”

  It had already grown quite late, dusk at least. Their only light came from the flickering of the dying fire. Maggie watched the solid thrum of Thomas’s pulse in his throat and tried not to feel superfluous. She’d hardly been able to think of anything but their tryst all day, yet Thomas had been so busy he’d had to fit her in between whatever activity had kept him from coming to Town for her…and a ball somewhere or other.

  What would a mistress do? Surely not lie about, missing her lover before he’d even gone.

  “I should go.”

  His pressed his hand against her back to hold her close. “It’s still early.”

  “It’s gotten dark, Thomas.” Maggie extricated herself from his embrace and slid to the edge of the bed. She needed to put some space between them, and if it required running from him, so be it. “You probably need to get ready.”

  “Not yet.”

  She took a deep shaky breath, turned, and gave him a smile she did not feel. “Yes, yet. And I should get back to my children.”

  He came up behind her and started to feather kisses down her shoulder. Maggie closed her eyes and fought the urge to slip back into the bed. She could do this. She could muster the control necessary to leave now, while her heart was still intact.

  “You are so anxious to leave?”

  She shook her head. “Of course not, but you have things to do. Important things, I’m sure.”

  “What if I asked you to stay?”

  She forced a quiet laugh and tried not to think about the months it was going to take him to get back to Sabedoria. And the life that awaited him there. “But you won’t. You are needed elsewhere.”

  She slid down to her feet and reached for her chemise, discarded on the floor near the tub. Thomas came right after her, taking the simple garment from her hand. They stood still for a moment, and Maggie resisted the urge to cover herself with her hands. It was far too late for modesty, and his expression kept her from moving.