What the devil was Benedict doing in Seven Dials? Even with his less than stellar reputation, the man was a future viscount who had no need to go about rubbing elbows with prostitutes and drunks. Having been away from London for weeks, David had no notion what was going on or how matters of The London Gossip were being handled. He had to assume that was what this was about.
His assumption was proven right when he followed the glow of distant light down one of the seven narrow streets converging into the circular center of the slum, where a single column thrust up toward the grayish sky with six sundials adorning its peak. At the foot of this spire stood a circle of broad-shouldered men, many of whom held torches aloft. The flickering flames cast their light upon Benedict, who stood in their midst staring down at something in his hands.
As David quickened his steps to draw closer, the men parted and he caught sight of a collection of young boys. Grubby, dressed in worn clothes and tatty caps, the lads likely ranged in age from seven to thirteen, and each one was busy loading something into a large wagon under Benedict’s watchful eye.
They were bundles of broadsheets, he realized as he paused in the gap left by two of the of the men. By David’s estimation there were hundreds of copies of The London Gossip here, every last one being stowed in the rough vehicle. Glancing up to notice him standing there, Benedict grinned and waved him over.
“There you are. Come … witness the genius of my plan.”
Stepping around a lad in a threadbare shirt and patched trousers, David made his way toward Benedict. On his way, he noticed a second wagon, this one overflowing with rough, burlap sacks bulging with mysterious contents.
“What’s going on? You know my opinion about any time of the morning preceding daylight. It’s unnatural to be awake at this hour.”
With a hearty laugh, Benedict shoved one of the scandal sheets at him. “Trust me, friend, this was worth waking up early for. It’s not every day one thwarts a madwoman with nothing more than a handful of sovereigns and a cart full of food.”
David darted a glance at the boys running about to do Benedict’s bidding, most of whom looked pitifully half-starved. Glancing down at the copy of The London Gossip marked with today’s date, he began reading. His brow knit and his mouth fell open as he absorbed a rather accurate description of the way the Gentleman Courtesans had been doing business—from meetings in the back of a modiste’s shop, to clandestine encounters, contracts and raucous parties where the favors of the men could be had for a night at no cost.
“For the love of … she isn’t making this up, Ben. It’s all true.”
Benedict tossed his crumpled sheet onto the growing pile of others. “Not anymore it isn’t, since we vacated Madame Hernshaw’s and stopped attending Millie’s parties. I am going to find the person who told the Gossip bitch about that and break his jaw if it’s the last thing I do. The last thing I wanted was to bring scrutiny upon her.”
David issued a sarcastic huff. “If there’s one thing Millie is used to, it’s scrutiny.”
“You’re right. Still, if I stop these details from becoming public knowledge, I can protect everyone involved until I uncover her identity and shut her up.”
Handing his copy of the paper off to a passing boy, David frowned. “Nothing yet?”
“Millie is still making inquiries, but I am a patient man. In the meantime, I have my friends here.”
Just then, one of the aforementioned friends came to stand before them, tufts of dirty blond hair peeking out from under his hat.
“That’s the last of ‘em, guv!”
“Well done. David, may I introduce my good friend Oliver? He and I set off on a rocky start, but we have settled our differences and decided to work together.”
For a second, David was flabbergasted at Benedict’s claim. But then, he remembered Ben’s story about being attacked in an alley by a collection of thugs working under the command of the London Gossip. He’d gotten himself into that mess following a boy working as a deliverer of the gossip column.
Before he could respond, the other boys surged around them with hands open and arms outstretched.
“All right, one at a time,” Benedict chided as he reached into his coat pocket and came out with a purse heavy with coins. The boys scampered away in twos and threes, stuffing the money away before helping themselves to one of the stuffed sacks from the other wagon.
David watched all this in silence, until the last of the lads was gone, save for Oliver, who tipped his hat to Benedict with a grin sporting two missing teeth.
“Same time tomorrow, me lord?”
“Yes, and remember—”
“Aye, guv! We got no idea what ‘appened to the papers once we delivered ‘em.”
“Good lad.”
Once Oliver darted off in the wake of the other boys, Benedict turned to David. “Those lads and their families are living in squalor and starving. The Gossip pays them a handful of shillings a week to deliver her papers. Is it any wonder I was able to buy their loyalty with the promise of filled bellies?”
David stroked his jaw. “So … they bring the papers to you instead of delivering them. For how long?”
“Until she figures out what they’re up to.”
“What then?”
“Then, I help those boys find other employment. And if it isn’t enough to stop her, I have other means at my disposal.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, David grinned. “Ben, you’re a genius. You’re as mad as a March hare … but a genius nonetheless.”
Benedict slapped his back with a chuckle. “Leave it to me, and this will all be over soon. When do you return to Lancashire?”
“Today, I think. I have matters to attend back home.”
Guiding him far enough from the other men that they wouldn’t be overheard, Ben lowered his voice. “And all is well with Mrs. Hurst? If not, say so and I will find you someone else right away. Or rather, I’ll get Lyons on the job. He is certainly earning his wages these days.”
David avoided Benedict’s gaze at the mention of his keeper. He had visited her three more times since that first night, and had promised to return to her bed the moment he made it back to Lancashire. Each appointment had been much the same as the last, with her lying under him all but motionless without looking at him, and David trying his damnedest to pretend it didn’t bother him. In truth, it haunted him, knowing that the woman neither wanted nor enjoyed his attentions.
It wasn’t a question of his pride so much as the reason for her reticence. When he began to think on the matter, the conclusions his mind led him to were distasteful. For, surely there was more to the matter than he’d first thought. Randolph Hurst had certainly been a philanderer and an insensitive brute. But, David was beginning to suspect he’d hurt Regina in ways that went beyond the emotional. Such thoughts had made the night before his departure for London difficult, with David counting the seconds until it was over so he could escape the room and scrub himself clean with the hottest water he could stand.
“Regina and I are getting on well enough,” he hedged. “She’s lovely, if a bit quiet and withdrawn.”
Benedict’s grin turned wicked, his eyes knowing and bright in the torchlight. “If anyone can draw her out of her shell, it would be you.”
In the past, David would have wholeheartedly agreed. But, how was he to do that when Regina had made it clear she wouldn’t appreciate any such effort?
He forced a smile of his own. “Quite right. Thank you for sending for me. I knew you had things well in hand, but I feel better knowing there’s a plan in motion. What of the others?”
“Hugh and Evelyn left for Norfolk just before you arrived. He has an architectural landscape to paint, and you know he doesn’t like to go anywhere without Evie. Nick and Aubrey are still away on their wedding trips and will be for at least a few more weeks. Perhaps longer for Nick. I received a letter from him last week. Apparently, word of the column in which he was mentioned made it to him in Paris.”
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David winced. “I’m certain Calliope didn’t take that well.”
“According to Nick, not well at all, but she is angrier with the Gossip and the woman who leaked the information than she is with her husband. They’ll likely remain in France through the New Year, though when I wrote him back, I assured him there was nothing to worry about. I will not allow his name to be connected to the agency. I won’t let it happen to any of you.”
If David could have faith in anything without question, it was the ironclad truth of Benedict’s words. They were always sure to be followed with swift and decisive action.
“Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“I think not,” Ben said. “Go home, David. Take care of your family. Leeds, see him back to his carriage, would you?”
One of the torch-bearing men pulled away from the others, giving David a silent nod. Hands shoved into the pockets of his greatcoat, David went back the way he’d come with more confidence in his gait and a small weight lifted off his shoulders. There was, of course, plenty for him to concern himself with back in Lancashire, but the journey home would be less nerve-wracking with the security of the funds he was bringing with him. It wasn’t much, but there would be coal in the hearths, fabric for his mother and sisters to have mourning garments that weren’t falling apart, and food that wouldn’t make him want to slit his own throat from lack of variety.
During to the drive back to his hotel, David’s thoughts landed back on Regina. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the trajectory of his mind. It was a damned problem. He would have much preferred to pretend she did not exist until the time came for him to visit her bed yet again. Aside from being a problem, it was also an aggravation, because he couldn’t think of a time when having a new keeper did not fill him with expectation and excitement. The courtship phase had always been his favorite—learning a new client, coming to understand the inner workings of her body and mind. There was none of that with Regina.
In a few weeks he would know whether their efforts had been successful, and if she would require him for another month. Needing the promised income, he was torn between wanting the arrangement to last until spring and praying she would turn up pregnant as soon as possible.
Resting his head on the squabs, he closed his eyes and tried to steal as much sleep as he could before it inevitably became time to face the world again.
Regina stared up at the man kneeling between her parted knees in the dimmed lighting of her bedchamber. After ten days away from Lancashire, David had returned, ready to resume his obligation. He had arrived an hour later than their established time, citing the rain as his excuse and apologizing profusely. Despite being annoyed with him for keeping her waiting and sharpening the edge of the anxiety she’d been wrestling with all day, Regina had accepted his apology and led him to her bed. Several valuable opportunities for him to get her with child had already been wasted during his trip—though she wanted to be understanding that the man had a life outside her needs of him. He was here now, and she would take advantage of it.
There was a crisp layer of cold winter air clinging to him tonight, tangling with the sandalwood and his natural, masculine scent. He had towel-dried his hair, but the damp strands had begun to curl about his neck and forehead in a way she found intriguing.
Regina closed her eyes and waited for him to begin. He was taking his time tonight, a departure from the last few nights he had visited her. Instead of casually flipping up her nightgown, he slowly drew it up, his fingertips skimming the inside of one thigh. She shivered, goose bumps rippling along her bared skin. Yet, she wasn’t cold—quite the contrary. Heat flared low in her belly as he stroked his way toward her quim, his breath slow and steady in the silence of the room.
Regina’s parted legs began to tremble, her breasts heaving beneath the drape of her nightgown, her breath quickening at the whisper-soft stroke of his touch along the seam of her lower lips. What was he doing? There was nothing efficient about his ministrations, and she could hardly make sense of it. His visits had taken on an almost comforting monotony, and Regina had come to expect certain things from him. However, there was something different in his touch tonight, as if he wanted to savor the moments leading up to the actual act. She had never experienced anything like it. Weren’t men accustomed to speeding through the pleasantries so they could sink their prick into a warm, dark hole?
Her mind turned into mush when he finally found what she’d come to think of as her ‘pleasure spot.’ He never lingered there more than a few minutes—just long enough to coax that embarrassing wetness from deep inside her. Tonight, however, he took up a slow, circular rhythm, sending the most unnerving flutters through her. Her gut clenched when he pressed down, and her eyes flew open, lips parted to ask him to stop. He would hurt her. His touch was too … oh, God. It didn’t hurt. The pressure was unlike anything she had ever known or imagined. A ragged breath tore from between her parted lips, but nothing else came forth as he quickened his circling thumb, rubbing and sending sparks jumping along her nerves.
David’s gaze was focused intently between her legs, a forelock of hair tumbling over his brow. The shadows hid his expression from her, but she could see his lips, parted and slick as if he’d just licked them. Her sheath clenched around air, the involuntary spasms of muscle both shocking and confusing. It was as if a part of her was coming alive, one she hadn’t known existed until David prodded at it with his skilled fingers.
He kept up his stroking while opening his breeches with his other hand, never breaking the rhythm. Regina bit her lip until she tasted blood, wrestling with panic, fear, and something that felt a lot like … arousal. Was that what this was—this hot, flushed sensation stealing over her entire body and making her limbs melt? Her nipples ached, and each breath made the fabric of her nightgown rasp against them, further agitating the sensation.
The broad crown of David’s cock touched her opening, gently prodding its way in. Regina held her breath, wanting to clamp her legs shut to keep him out, even as her traitorous sheath throbbed and pulsed in response to the invasion as if welcoming it.
He didn’t push all the way in, keeping his thrusts shallow and giving the barest few inches of him. Her chest and throat burned from lack of air, and her heart pounded. The angle and shallow depth of his cock inside her made his swollen head press against a place inside Regina that heightened the confusing sensations tearing through her. Her breath came out on a surprised cry as light flutters began rippling through her insides, growing stronger with each slow, deliberate thrust. The pressure on her bud increased, sending a sharp burst of almost painful pleasure through her. It spiraled from the point of contact and penetrated her womb like the savage thrust of a dagger, twisting and penetrating parts of her she’d never intended to open up to this man. To any man.
David withdrew and thrust to the hilt, the collision of his pelvis against hers and the deep plunge of his cock setting something off inside her. Regina’s lips parted on a shrill cry, one of her hands coming up to clutch at his waistcoat as the entire world began to spiral away.
“Regina,” he groaned, his hips moving in swift thrusts that heightened the poignancy of what went on inside her.
She could not speak, think or control her body. Her insides convulsed around him in a pounding rhythm that took her breath away, her yearning nub pulsating against his agitating thumb. Her back arched and her head fell back as it overwhelmed her, blotting out everything in the world save for the man on top of her—turning her inside out and exposing all her nerves to the elements.
After what felt like an eternity, the storm within her began to abate, though it didn’t cease all at once. The tension curling her toes and making her fingers clench so tight around the lapel of his waistcoat went first, and she fell beneath him in a boneless heap. Then, the soul-wrenching spasms within her eased into aftershocks that had her shaking and gasping for breath. Only then did David achieve his finish, one hand slapping against the headboard a
s he seated himself inside of her and spilled, groaning and panting, head lowered so his hair obscured his face.
Regina could only lie there beneath him at first, stunned by what had just happened and still unable to speak. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, making her feel as if she fell through open air with nothing to hold onto, nothing to keep her from plummeting into some unknown hell.
David’s harsh, ragged breaths began to slow as he lifted his head, glancing at her with heavy-lidded eyes. He looked like some wicked, pagan creature, even fully dressed—his long lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones, his lips parted and reddened as if he’d bit at them in the throes of his pleasure. A trickle of sweat glistened on his brow. His broad chest heaved beneath the layers of his clothes, making her wonder how he would look without them. How he would feel beneath her palms.
“No,” she ground out, squirming to be free of him. He was still lodged inside her, softened but an ever-present reminder of what he was and why she should never have let him touch her that way.
He blinked as if awakening from a dream and gave his head a little shake. “Regina?”
“Get up,” she rasped, pushing against his chest, her legs scrambling against the bedsheets as she tried to crawl out from under his bulk. “Get off me, now!”
David’s movements were sudden and a bit clumsy as he pushed off her and crawled toward the foot of the bed. The slash of moonlight from the window illuminated his confused face and the unsteady hands that swiftly did up his fall. Regina pressed herself back against the headboard, jerking her nightgown over her knees as she curled them into her chest. She choked down hysterical sobs and tried to make sense of what was happening to her. Never had she known such feelings were possible during the act of intercourse. She had known what to expect every night before this one, and had even come to find the predictability of their sessions comforting. David had proven he was willing to play by her rules, and her crushing fears had eased just a bit. But now … now she was uncertain and shaken as she tried to make sense of the things David had just made her feel, and what it might mean.
Taming of the Rake (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 4) Page 11