Regency Scandals: Touch Me, Tempt Me & Take Me Box Set

by Lucy Monroe

  "You said that I signed the note to Mrs. Jensen."

  "I blood— I did not."

  "I said that someone had sent a note and signed it with your name," Ashton inserted from behind her.

  "It amounts to the same thing," she replied without turning to face him.

  Jared tipped her chin upward until their eyes met again. "No, mon ange, it does not. You think that because we found more evidence of the conspiracy against you that we’ve changed our minds since this morning, don’t you?"

  Of course she did. The revelations of the day had given lie to the evidence that she had presented on her own behalf that morning. And Jared didn’t fully trust her anyway, or he would not have left his sisters and Drake to watch her.

  Jared shook his head. "No one believes you sent for the candy. We don’t believe you hired Willem."

  But he’d been so angry. They’d believed that very thing this morning and the day’s events had only served to substantiate it. "I cannot prove that I didn’t write the note."

  "Actually, you can," Ashton once again interrupted her discussion with Jared, "I brought the note from Mrs. Jensen. We can compare the handwriting if it will make you feel better. I’d like you to look at it regardless. Perhaps you will recognize the writing. I realize it’s unlikely, but it’s our only hope at the moment."

  They didn’t believe she’d done it. The truth sank into her consciousness slowly. Jared did trust her, at least a little. "But why did you leave Drake and your sisters to watch me if you didn’t believe I’d done it?"

  "I stayed because none of us was comfortable leaving our women unprotected with a madman threatening our family," Drake said.

  "Really, Pierson. You talk as if we are incapable of defending ourselves." Thea sounded offended.

  Calantha’s confusion only increased. She turned finally and faced the others at the table. No one glared at her with accusation. Irisa’s eyes were filled with tears and she was looking at Calantha as if she wanted to hug her. Thea was glaring at her husband and Ashton wore an expression of understanding sympathy. Drake looked irritated, but his gaze was directed at his wife.

  They believed her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Cali relaxed marginally. "I am sorry for overreacting. Please, you can release me now," she said quietly, in that damn duchess tone again, "I am quite recovered."

  She acted as if she had just now realized they believed her. Hadn’t she heard a word they said that morning? He let her go and she returned to her seat, her head erect, her carriage dignified. Damn it, the duchess was back in full form.

  Cali sat down and allowed her gaze to encompass them all. "I apologize for allowing my emotions to get away from me. Please excuse the scene you were forced to endure. Lord Ashton, I believe you were discussing your visit with Mrs. Jensen."

  Ashton’s eyes widened a fraction, but he nodded. "Yes. She didn’t recognize the boy, but that’s hardly surprising. She believes you wanted the candy to make a comparison between the two recipes."

  "How did you explain your questions on the matter?" Drake asked, ignoring Thea’s continued scowl pointed in his direction.

  "I told her that someone was playing a practical joke on the angel and we couldn’t figure out where the candy had come from. I said that we were glad to have the confusion cleared up and my sister-in-law would be deeply appreciative of Mrs. Jensen’s ready generosity when she learned the truth of the matter. I implied it was the work of a village lad taken with the Angel."

  "That was very clever," Cali approved, though her voice was monotone.

  Jared wanted to shake her, only he never would. She’d suffered enough at a man’s hand. He would never allow her to suffer at his.

  "So, we’re at the same place we were this morning," Irisa complained.

  "No, my love, we aren’t. We know that someone is definitely trying to implicate Calantha in the villainy. We knew a woman was involved, but now we know she’s hired a boy to run errands for her. Perhaps we can find him. We also have the note." Ashton sounded far too pleased considering how little the day’s efforts had actually gained them. He took a bite of rosemary lamb from his plate.

  "I’ll look at it after dinner. I will also give you a few of the letters I wrote to my parents, my notes and other papers to compare the handwriting." Calantha had not touched her meal since the soup course.

  "That isn’t necessary," Jared growled, his temper just below the surface. She acted like she had to verify everything, just like she had that morning. "We said we believe you. You don’t have to prove yourself."

  She stared back at him, her expression blank. "It is the logical next step to eliminate any uncertainty."

  His temper boiled over. "There is no uncertainty, damn it! We believe you and that’s bloody well that."

  Bloody hell, he’d been doing so well. She’d implied she didn’t like his swearing and he was trying to clean up his language in front of her. He’d start talking like Ashton if he thought it would get rid of that duchess look and bring a smile back to her face.

  "What are you going to do next?" Thea asked, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

  He turned away from the distant look in his wife’s eyes he hated so much and focused on his sister. "I’m going to call on the duke tomorrow."

  "Why?" Cali asked. "So far, the only thing we know for certain is that a woman is involved. There’s nothing to indicate the duke in this."

  "The duke is still our best suspect."

  "But..."

  "As we surmised before, he could be working with a female accomplice."

  "Our conjecture hardly constitutes justification for interviewing the duke and possibly offending him."

  Jared felt like cursing. This was the second time she’d argued with them about talking to Clairborne. The other man was just the type women found attractive, blonde and blue-eyed with impeccable manners.

  "I’m going to talk to him," Jared vowed, "I haven’t forgotten he tried to talk you out of marrying me."

  Cali's gaze met his. "Perhaps it would have been better for you and Hannah if he had."

  Dinner went downhill after that. Jared was so angry that he had to stay silent or end up yelling and he wasn’t up to seeing Cali retreat further into her shell because of his anger. The rest of his family made small talk, but they were aware of the tension between him and Cali and no one offered to linger to discuss any further plans after dinner.

  Drake and Thea carried their sleeping children out to the waiting carriage, while Ashton tucked Irisa into a corner with a blanket. The air felt damn warm to Jared, but he figured Ashton was feeling protective because of his sister’s pregnancy.

  "I’ll bring Cali and Hannah over in the morning before leaving for Clairborne Park," he said as Ashton’s coachman took up the reins.

  "We’ll keep them safe while you’re gone," Drake promised.

  Jared nodded and waved the carriage on.

  He accompanied Thomas on his rounds to make sure the house was locked up for the night and there were no open windows on the ground floor. When he was satisfied the house was secure, he went upstairs to face Cali, who had gone to their bedchamber directly after dinner.

  He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. He was still angry enough to shout the house down.

  He found her brushing her hair, its golden strands shining in the lamplight. She hadn’t put a sleeping robe over her nightrail and he could see the faint outline of her womanly curves through the sheer fabric. His body reacted despite his lingering fury.

  "What the hell did you mean you wish you hadn’t married me?" he demanded as he stepped into the room and shut the door.

  She laid the brush down on the dressing table in front of her and met his gaze in the looking glass, her eyes remote. "I did not say I wish I hadn’t married you. I said it might have been better for you and Hannah."

  It was the same thing. He yanked at his cravat, removing it when the tie had come undone. "Why?"

 
; She bent her head as if she were studying her clasped hands in her lap. "Maybe this is all my fault."

  He tossed off his jacket and waistcoat in two jerky movements. "How?" He didn’t understand how her mind worked.

  "What if someone is angry with me and this is their way of getting revenge? The one thing we know for certain is that whoever is guilty wants me to be blamed. If you and Hannah were not connected to me, she would not be at risk."

  He unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it out of his riding breeches. "That’s a dam— That’s a bacon-brained thing to say."

  Her head came up then and she turned her head to face him, quickly averting her eyes when her gaze fell on his chest exposed by the open shirt. "It is not foolish. It’s logical."

  "Only a madman would think with that kind of logic," he grated, irritated by her arguments and her refusal to look at him.

  "Only a madman would try to kill a child and risk two others to succeed."

  He couldn’t argue that point, but he didn’t want to believe she was the target. "You aren’t thinking rationally."

  "I’m thinking the way I was taught to think."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Deveril would have thought nothing of using you or Hannah to hurt me."

  She’d told him Clairborne had used others to hurt her, but he hadn’t given it much thought. The man was dead, but clearly his influence on Cali wasn’t in the grave with him.

  Jared closed the space that separated them. He put his hands on her shoulders as she faced away from him. "The kidnapper was hired before you agreed to marry me, before anyone could know you would grow to love Hannah as you do."

  Her gaze flew to his in the looking glass again and he saw a spark of hope in her eyes. "But even then, the woman who hired the kidnapper took pains to implicate me. I can only think Hannah is an unfortunate target because of her convenient proximity to me."

  Jared thought it over because her point was sound, but then shook his head. "We don't have enough evidence to speculate like this. It would be a grave error to dismiss the likelihood Hannah is the target and you the convenient scapegoat."

  "I just don’t understand how someone could want to hurt our daughter."

  "I don’t either." He couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind someone trying to make it look like Cali was the culprit either. She was so gentle and caring, so kind. "But it isn’t your fault."

  She said nothing, but turned on the vanity chair until she faced him. "I’m sorry I slapped you."

  She reached out and traced a delicate pattern on his stomach just above the band of his breeches. His sex, which had been semi-hard since he’d entered their room and found her in the diaphanous nightrail, went rock-hard and pressed against the buttons of his fly.

  "You were distraught." He still didn’t understand why she’d been so angry with him.

  He wasn’t the one trying to frame her for murder and kidnapping. He was doing his damndest to find the real villain. Maybe her anger had just needed an outlet and he had been it.

  "So you said at the time." She trailed her finger down the ridge in his pants and his entire body shuddered. "I’ve never struck another person, not even Deveril when he hurt me."

  Jared didn’t want to hear about Clairborne, not when Cali’s touch was making him feel like he was ready to explode in his breeches. "I forgive you, angel."

  "Thank you." One small thumb dipped into the waistband of his breeches and brushed the top of his shaft.

  He groaned and thrust toward her, feeling completely helpless against the desire she set off in him.

  She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his stomach. "I don’t want to hurt you, Jared." She whispered the words against his skin.

  "That definitely doesn’t hurt," he said, his voice coming out guttural with his need. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

  She tugged at the buttons on his breeches until they were all undone and then she pulled them down his hips until his sex sprang free. Trailing her fingers along his hardened manhood, she let out an unsteady breath.

  "You’re magnificent, Jared. You’re strong and so completely masculine in every way." She leaned forward and sipped at the end of his penis, making him feel weak at the knees. "I don’t know how you do this to me. I’m so angry with you one moment and then the next, I just want to feel your naked skin against mine."

  Her words so exactly reflected how he felt that he groaned. "It’s not me doing it, mon ange, it’s you."

  She didn’t respond, but her mouth opened and slid gently over the head of his sex. His head fell back and he reveled in the unbridled pleasure of his wife touching him so intimately. He bit back a shout, remembering just in time that Hannah was in the next room. Cali tasted him with all the delicacy of a cat licking at cream. He could see her in his mind’s eye, her mouth opened wide around the thickness of his male flesh, her fingers gently massaging his length.

  The fantasy combined with reality and he felt the pressure in the base of his sex that told him he was about to come. He pulled on her head, forcing her to release him. "I need to be in you, now."

  As he said the words, he went to step toward the bed and almost tripped. He still wore his breeches and Hessians. He wouldn’t make it to get them off. He hobbled awkwardly to the bed and fell back on it. "Come here."

  She came, tearing off her nightrail as she crossed the distance from her dressing table to the bed. Her face and small, high breasts were flushed with desire. "I want you, Jared."

  When she reached him, he begged, "Ride me, angel, please."

  Her eyes darkened to the color of the sea with her desire, she climbed on top of him, prepared to do just that. With the last bit of his control, he reached down between her legs to make sure she was ready for him. He hadn’t even touched her and she was slick with her desire for him. He used his finger to spread the honeyed wetness around her entrance and up to her sweet spot. She pressed herself against his fingers, whimpering with her pleasure.

  "I need you now." He reached down and clamped his hands onto either side of her hips, then positioned her above his jutting sex and surged upward.

  She cried out as he entered her. He stopped breathing. Damn, it felt good.

  She pressed herself down until she’d taken his entire sex inside. "I feel so full when you are in me, as if I can’t bear it, but I can’t stand the thought of you withdrawing, even for a second. When you’re in me, I don’t feel alone."

  He wanted to tell her it was the same for him, but even though he was breathing again, he couldn’t speak. The pleasure was too intense. Her inner flesh gripped him like a warm, wet, fist.

  She lifted her body until he was on the verge of coming out and slid back down his shaft. He growled. The low sound from deep in his throat surprised him and made her smile.

  It was an utterly feminine smile of satisfaction. "I like it too."

  She closed her eyes, letting her head tip back and did it again. He didn’t think he was going to last through another one of those sweet caresses and gritted his teeth. Damn. He wanted to feel her come with him. He reached down and put his thumb against her slick, hardened, nub. He didn’t move his finger, but let the rocking of her body slide her sweet flesh against it. Her mouth opened in a wide O, but no sound came out.

  He reached up with his other hand and gently tugged on first one nipple and then the other. Her rocking started getting faster and faster, their bodies slapping together in a passionate rhythm until her entire body stiffened and then shuddered around him. He exploded, ramming himself in her with a final fierce thrust, as her inner muscles clenched his sex in several convulsions.

  She let out a shuddering sigh and collapsed against him. They lay that way for a long time, neither speaking and his sex still inside her.

  He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. "Cali?"

  "Mmmm?"

  "Did you take me in your mouth because you were sorry for slapping me?" He had to know. It had been one of the most shatt
ering moments of his life and he didn’t know if he could stand finding out she had done it out of guilt rather than desire.

  "No." She nuzzled into his neck. "Is that the proper way for a viscountess to apologize to her husband?"

  "Bloody hel— No."

  "Good. That means I can do it whenever I feel like it and not wait until the next time we have an argument."

  "Yes." Most definitely, yes.

  "Angel?"

  "What?"

  "Did you like it?"

  "Couldn’t you tell?" How could you feel your wife blushing? He didn’t know, but he definitely felt Cali turn pink. "Did you like it, last night, when you did that to me?"

  Her words came out hesitant and whispered against his neck.

  "Yes. Very much. You taste like honey and spice."

  She licked his neck. "You taste like you. I can’t describe it. It’s like your smell. There’s nothing else like it in the world and I love it."

  She loved his smell...and his taste?

  He was a very, very blessed man.

  He shifted under her and felt a stirring in his sex. "I think I should take off my boots now."

  Her head came up at that and she stared at him, her face contorting in a strange expression. Then laughter erupted from her, cascading over him like a warm waterfall of happiness.

  She laughed so hard, she fell off of him and rolled on her side, grasping her stomach with both hands. He watched the spontaneous expression of emotion with almost as much pleasure as he had experienced making love to her.

  "You are so beautiful when you laugh."

  "You are..." She didn’t finish, the laughter overcoming her again. "You are..." She rolled to her other side, her head bobbing up and down in mirth. "You are h-handsome when you are h-hard."

  He stood up and yanked off his Hessians and the rest of his clothes before diving back on the bed to join his giggling wife. "Then I must look like Adonis now." Because he was once again hard enough to stand in for a steel rod.

  She rolled toward him, her eyes suddenly serious, her laughter stilled. She laid her hand on his cheek, against his scar as she’d done a few times before and it affected him just as strongly. "You are far more attractive than a myth, Jared. You are the living, breathing fulfillment of dreams I thought dead when I discovered what kind of man I married when I was eighteen."