“You’re right,” she murmured. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean that you should not go, just not today. This note is dated three days past. Your brother’s wife has already had the baby—as a nurse, I can guarantee that. Rushing there while you are exhausted is not wise. Wollstonecraft Hall is—what? Well over a hundred miles away? Even riding full-bore you’ll need sleep, meals, a change in horses. Samuel, how long did it take for Jacob to arrive here?”
“Two and a half days, miss. He is in my room, sleeping. He’s done in.”
Aidan cast Samuel a furious look, but the man didn’t wither under his gaze. “Miss Bevan is right, sir. Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but why not use the carriage and leave in the morn? Jacob will be recovered from his fatigue by then, and so will you. I will remain here, act on your behalf until you’re able to return.”
There was merit in what Samuel and Cristyn said. He doubted he could even keep upright in the saddle. It would be reckless, and he was bloody well done with irresponsible behavior. “Does Jacob know anything of my sister-in-law’s condition?”
“I thought you might ask, so I quizzed him before he took to bed. All he was told was that she was in labor. Sorry there’s not more to tell, sir.”
“I will leave in the morning, then. Ensure all is prepared. Nebula will return with me. The horse Jacob came on? It will stay here for your use. And yes, Samuel, you will be acting in my stead. After I rest, I will come to you with instructions. For now, I need you to accompany Dr. Middlemiss to where the bodies are being kept. He must examine them with all haste.” He turned to Cristyn, softening his expression. “Will you stay here until Middlemiss returns?”
“Of course, if you will go at once to your room. I’ll join you there later.” She gave him a shy, but seductive smile. He kissed her forehead.
After speaking to Middlemiss, and to Delaney, stating their account would be settled soon, he stepped toward Lottie’s bed and kissed her cheek, remembering her words: “My prince, you saved me.”
He was Lottie’s prince, Cristyn and Carter’s hero.
Perhaps his life was not a total waste after all.
Chapter 23
It was close to seven in the evening before Cristyn was able to make her way to the inn. Hopefully, Aidan had been sleeping the past few hours. How she wished Cyn was nearby to discuss all that had happened—especially the intimacy with Aidan. She had confessed in her last letter that she was in love with him, and had told him. Cyn had been nothing but supportive in her reply, revealing that she, too, had boldly spoken her true feelings for Davidson. It had all led to a happy ending.
But Aidan was not a vicar, a man who lived a moral life. No, he was much more complicated, which in turn made this entire situation a thorny and difficult journey. But as she had concluded previously, to her, Aidan was worth it.
Especially since she’d witnessed his tender and heartfelt conversation with Lottie. Her heart had swelled when Lottie called him her prince. How apt. Offering to take the children in had more than proved his innate goodness and honor.
When she stopped at the front desk of the inn, a woman looked up from her ledger and gave her a polite smile. “May I help you, miss?”
“I’m Nurse Bevan, assistant to Dr. Middlemiss, here to see Mr. Black. What room is he in?” Such duplicity, but one must at least try to keep up appearances.
The innkeeper’s wife gave her a surprised look. Yes, she was a young woman about to go into a man’s room alone. But this was a professional call—at least on the surface.
“Room fifteen, Miss Bevan, top floor. Is he well?” The woman leaned in closer. “Is the tattle accurate? Mr. Black dashed into a burning building to save the master’s wife and child?”
“Yes, that’s correct. It is why I’m here, to ensure there are no complications. Would it be too much trouble to have a pot of tea and sandwiches delivered to his room? Unless he has already eaten?”
“No, he hasn’t. I’ll see to it personally, miss. I must say, I’ll be sorry to see him leave. Polite to a fault. A true gentleman. And generous.”
“Yes, he is that.”
Climbing the stairs, she thought about the note from his brother and the word “curse.” She had decided against bringing up the subject in front of Samuel, but it was one of the many subjects they must tackle.
She knocked, and the door opened to reveal Aidan looking tousled and darkly appealing, as if he had woken from a nap. Giving him a brief smile, she entered.
Removing her shawl, she glanced at the quilt hanging off the edge of the bed. “You’ve slept?”
“I ordered a bath first. Hopefully the odor of smoke no longer lingers.” In two strides, he gathered her into his arms. “How do I smell?” He smiled teasingly.
She gazed up at him. “Clean, with a faint whiff of bergamot.” As hard as it was to leave his warm embrace, she placed her hands against Aidan’s chest and stepped back. “I ordered sandwiches and tea. They should be here directly. How do you feel? Does the headache persist?”
“I must bow to your medical wisdom. You were correct; I would not have been able to travel by horseback today. Yes, my head still hurts. I also feel slightly nauseous. Not sure I will be able to eat.”
“From what I’ve read in my father’s medical books, you’re suffering from inhaling too much smoke. Does your chest hurt?”
“A little.”
“Your voice isn’t as hoarse. A good sign. Traveling by carriage is entirely more prudent.” They sat in the chairs. “I have news. Paris examined the bodies of the children. Two of the more decomposed ones showed evidence of fractured skulls.” Cristyn shook her head. “What kind of men would treat children as if they mattered not at all?” she whispered miserably.
Aidan thumped his fist on the arm of the chair. “It churns my guts to see how children are used and abused, all in the name of industry. I could tell you horror stories of children laboring in coal mines, far worse than what we have witnessed here. Anyway, can it be proven McRae or Hanson committed murder?”
“Paris sent word on to Mr. Muggeridge in Hinckley, but from what he knows of the law, murder will be hard to prove—unless the men turn on each other. Manslaughter might be a more practical avenue.”
Aidan snorted derisively. “So Muggeridge said.”
A knock sounded at the door. Cristyn rose. “Must be Mrs. Atwood.” She walked to the door and opened it, and the innkeeper’s wife bustled in, laying the tray on the small table by the window.
“Beefsteak sandwiches as you like, Mr. Black.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Atwood. You are a treasure,” he crooned.
The older woman blushed and giggled. Aidan could charm anyone. Once a rake, always a rake? It was hard to know. Mrs. Atwood departed, closing the door behind her.
Cristyn poured the tea and passed Aidan a cup. “What did your brother mean about a curse?”
Aidan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he ate a wedge of sandwich, working out a response. “Speaking of it to anyone outside of the family is not something I like to do, though I spoke of it to your father. I was first told of it at age thirteen. My grandfather escorted my brother and me to the family cemetery. He explained that most of the graves were of women who had married into the family—or, on rare occasion, were born into it. The Wollstonecraft men are cursed, never to keep love.”
He ate more of his sandwich before continuing. “My grandfather had three wives. My mother died when I was three. My aunt died shortly after birth. Not all the unfortunate women died in childbirth, but many did. Hence my brother’s worry. This curse goes back hundreds of years.”
He took a sip of tea and frowned. “There was no way to break it, no magical spell, no great expedition to find a sacred object. Merely the directive: ‘do not love.’ That’s it. It is why we have all remained unattached—until recently. Garrett believed in it more than any of us. He turned fr
om love at age eighteen because of it. All it did was make him and Abbie miserable for years. And there was a child.”
“Oh, my.”
“Garrett only recently found out he had a fourteen-year-old daughter. Well, he couldn’t deny the love any longer. They were married in Scotland.”
“I remember you mentioning the nuptials, but I had no idea of all the complications and the history behind it.” Cristyn sipped her tea, staring at him over the rim. Heavens, the family was cursed? How preposterous, but she wasn’t about to mock it, as Aidan obviously took it seriously. Or did he? “Do you believe in this curse?”
“That trip to the cemetery had more of an impact on me than I led my family to believe. I decided I would never marry. Never involve myself in any affair of the heart. Once I became old enough to appreciate women and indulge in casual dalliances, I held true to my belief.”
Cristyn felt sick to her soul. They had no future. He’d made it more than clear. If she had any sense, she would say goodbye and leave immediately. Try and forget him. But how? Aidan had a hold on her heart. She would never be able to give it to anyone else. In placing her cup and saucer on the tray, her hand shook.
“But,” Aidan said quietly, “that is firmly in my past. Yes, I hit the lowest point any man could. But that wasn’t why I was a physical and emotional wreck.” He looked down into the depths of his teacup. “The reason I came on this excursion was to cleanse my soul, mold myself into the man I always wanted to be. An honorable man. A man worthy of the name Wollstonecraft.”
“You are, Aidan,” she said, her voice soft. “More than worthy.”
“I hope that is the case. My father told me once to never allow anyone to tell me a man cannot show emotion, that it makes him weak. A man secure in his own skin will allow his feelings to show. Compassion, a stout heart, and a genuine concern for one’s fellow man are collected in tears. I didn’t heed him. Instead, I hid my emotions. I never cared for anyone but myself. It appears I was not secure in my own skin. But no longer.” He wiped his eyes, and the sight of his tears caused some to form in her eyes.
“My past is behind me, and it is because of you. My angel of mercy. My comfort.” He looked up at her, and his eyes shimmered with emotion. “My heart. From the moment you touched me, speaking to me in your soothing tone, I was completely smitten. I remember all our conversations—once I became lucid enough to participate in them. You adore hot mince tarts with fresh cream, and reading medical journals. You have strong opinions, especially on how the poor do not receive the medical care they deserve. I believe it is another worthy cause for the Wollstonecrafts to embrace.” He gave her a warm smile.
“And to find that you saw away on corpses makes you infinitely more interesting than most women. You are forthright, honest, yet with a quick temper. I adore the fire that burns within you. You are passionate. Beautiful. And if I haven’t made it plain: I love you, Cris. With you I am whole. Complete. Secure in my skin at last. You must stay with me. Forever. So that I may avoid ruination, for without you, I am Lord Nothing.”
The tears spilled down her cheeks at his passionately spoken words. She vaulted out of her chair, right into his lap. Aidan laughed. Oh, he needed to do more of that. Cristyn would make it her life’s work to ensure he loved and laughed with total abandon. Cupping his freshly shaven cheeks, she said, “I love you, Aidan. I will never run from you. I will fight for you, support you, and love you, regardless of your past, or a family curse. On this, I swear. It is only the future that matters. Our future.”
He kissed her, and it contained all the love and passion he was feeling. She could taste it, for it matched hers. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured, hungrily nibbling on her bottom lip.
“Don’t we have more to discuss?”
“After.”
“What about the headache? Nausea?”
“Completely gone.”
Cristyn laughed, and once they stood they frantically removed their clothes. Aidan assisted her in removing the pins from her hair. As she reached for the waistband of his trousers, he halted her. “I had better lock the door. We’re going to be at this all night. You will stay with me?”
* * * *
Aidan waited for her answer. My God, he’d told a woman he loved her, a declaration he had sworn he would never make. But the events of the past couple of days made his muddled emotions shift into clearer and sharper focus. Speaking with Delaney helped to truly place the past behind him, and speaking of it to Cristyn, telling her of truths long kept secret, also gave him the courage to own his feelings.
He needed time to show her how much he loved her, to taste every inch of her skin, lick and nibble every sensitive part of her body. To allow her to explore him the same way. She stood before him in a thin chemise, her nipples hard, begging for him to suckle them. Her glorious raven hair hung past her shoulders in thick, glossy waves.
“Yes. All night,” she replied.
Aidan ran his fingers under the straps, pushing the chemise down until it pooled at her feet. Seeing her naked caused his heart to hitch in his chest. “You are stunning,” he murmured reverently. He strode to the door and locked it. Then he unbuttoned the fall of his trousers, pushed them and his smalls to the floor, and kicked them aside.
“You’re stunning as well,” she whispered.
They were in each other’s arms, skin to skin, kissing as Aidan walked them to the bed. He laid her flat, her legs dangling over the side. Then he hit his knees before her. Cristyn leaned up on her elbows, looking at him quizzically.
“I’m going to taste you.” Draping her shapely legs over his shoulders, he gave her a wicked grin. Running his fingers along her slit, he moaned at the wetness that coated them. He ran his tongue along her folds and Cristyn shuddered, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “Do you like it? Do you wish me to continue?” he asked, his voice laced with desire.
She tunneled a hand through his hair. “Yes. Taste me.”
Aidan didn’t need to be told twice. Over the years, he had become quite skilled in giving women oral pleasure. He put all he’d learned to good use and had Cristyn writhing and moaning. Flicking his tongue across her clitoris caused her to cry out, then tremble with her swift and sudden release. “Oh, my.”
“Indeed.”
With a sigh, she sat up and cupped his cheek. “How wicked. May I do the same to you?”
Aidan rubbed his cheek against her palm. “Do what, exactly?”
“Put my mouth on your cock?”
He groaned, for he loved that she was not the least bit shy at speaking in succinct erotic terms. “Absolutely.” He lay flat on the bed. “Explore whatever part you like.”
Cristyn sat by his side, trailing the tips of her fingers along his arms and down his chest, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “You are recovering well,” she murmured. “More delineated muscle, and the extra few pounds show that your health is returning in full vigor.”
“Thank you, nurse.”
She grasped his painfully hard prick, giving him a couple of quick strokes. A ragged groan tore from his throat. Cristyn lay on top of him and began kissing and stroking his chest, moving slowly downward, his anticipation sparking. When she encased the head of his cock with her sweet, hot mouth, he nearly came off the bed. Gripping the blankets, he surrendered, allowing the sensations of her unpracticed motions to send him soaring. He couldn’t recall any of his past sexual encounters—this beautiful woman had erased them. And he was glad.
He gently caressed a lock of her hair. “Enough, my love.”
Cristyn no sooner sat back when his climax tore through him. “Jesus. Hell,” he moaned.
“Will there be more?”
Never, ever would he tire of this glorious woman. “Insatiable minx. Later. Over by the basin, bring me a cloth, if you please.”
Completely unconcerned that she was naked, Cristyn strode to the
basin, wet the cloth, and returned. As he reached for it, she gently swatted his hand aside. “I will clean you.”
Once she had, they lay on their sides, and he held her close. They rested for close to thirty minutes. Having her in his arms caused him to harden. He lifted her leg and rested it on his hip. Then he entered her, and, with slow deliberation, made love to her. They reached their peaks at near the same moment, and he took care not to spill inside her. Pulling her once again into his arms, they fell asleep.
Aidan awoke and lit the oil lamp by the bed. Hours must have passed, for they had awakened, made love once again, and slept some more. Rubbing his tired eyes, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Cristyn stirred and cuddled closer to him.
“What’s the time?” she murmured.
“After midnight. Today is my birthday. Correction: mine and Riordan’s birthday. Happy birthday, Brother.”
She caressed his chest. “Happy birthday, my love.”
“It’s one of the best, with you here in my arms.” He kissed her forehead.
“Charmer. When will you depart? Dawn? Later?”
“You mean when will we depart.”
Cristyn sat upright, holding the sheet against her. “We?”
“I never asked, did I? I merely assumed. I wish for you to travel with me to Wollstonecraft Hall. Obviously, we will not depart until we have seen to every detail. I need to see Samuel, for there is much to address. There are certain people at the mill I want looked after. Miller, Tessie and her family, the children. Then there are Carter and Lottie.”
“I cannot go anywhere without speaking to my father. Besides, regardless of what we’ve shared privately in this room, I cannot travel with you to your home. What will it say publicly? There is a societal difference in our stations.”
Damn, he was making these plans and had not even explained how Cristyn would factor into them. “When I said I want you at my side forever, I meant us, married. Partners in life—and love. I would not dream of making any decisions without you. Ever. As for different stations, neither I nor my family holds with such strictures.”
Love with a Notorious Rake Page 26