Wild, Wicked and Wanton: A Hot Historical Romance Bundle

by Natasha Blackthorne

  “Think of the devil,” she said, unable to resist giving him a slow, sensual smile, the kind she knew drove him insane. Not because she still wanted him, but because she wanted him to suffer as she had suffered. To lie awake at night, aching for her alone.

  “You knew I would come.” He used that chiding tone she’d also grown to resent. He held no rights over her and never had. Everything she’d given him had been given willingly. Out of love. But he’d proven himself unworthy and made a fool of her.

  “You’ve come here for nothing,” she said in her coolest voice.

  His lofty mask vanished and, with a grin, he sat beside her. “I wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done very well for yourself, my dear.”

  She lifted her chin. “I love him. He loves me.”

  His grin stretched into a grimace. He paled.

  Fierce joy fired her senses.

  Yes, Joshua, take that and know what it feels like to be replaced with something better.

  He laughed softly and came closer. “Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?”

  She put a hand to his chest and tried to push him away. He latched his arm firmly about her waist. She pushed harder but he only tightened his hold. Oh, mercy! For such a slender man, his lean muscles always held surprising strength. A renewed rush of cool rationality washed over her, stripping away her satisfaction in the moment. How stupid and foolish of her to have lured him here. To have goaded him with her engagement. She pushed at him again. “Let me go, Dr. Wade.”

  He remained immovable. “Now don’t be disagreeable. I thought you’d be over all this wounded pride by now. And what did your pride gain you? This whole time, you could have been living in luxury, my Beth.”

  Beth. He’d given her the nickname. She’d been his special little Beth. And later it had pleased her to hear better men whisper it in her ear. Now she was sickened that she’d ever fallen for him.

  “Let. Me. Go,” she said. This wasn’t the first time her emotions had got the better of her sense, but it might be the one she regretted the most.

  Maintaining a relentless hold on her, he buried his face in her neck. “You’re so stubborn.”

  A faint scent of camphor and vinegar clung to him. He must have seen a patient on his way here. No one could fault his dedication as a physician. Not even Beth. She’d once idolized those things about him.

  His body went rigid against hers. “I can smell him all over you. Tell me, how does he like all those little refinements I taught you? It should make me furious that you bestow them on him.” He tightened his hands on her waist. “But, truthfully, the memory of you there on your knees, sucking his cock, just makes me crazy to fuck you. You forgot I had the key to the schoolroom, forgot that I alone know of your little penchant for hiding there. But I never forgot any of it, Beth. I never forgot you.”

  The last of her tolerance melted away to be replaced by a seething rage. “You’d better let me go.”

  “I try, honestly I do.” His lips found her neck. “But then I see you and—God, you drive me insane.”

  She cringed away from his hot, seeking lips. “I am warning you, I am going to make you sorry.

  “Never,” he breathed against her ear.

  She drove her elbow back and up, into his ribs—a sharp, wicked thrust.

  Groaning, he let go and grasped his side. “I forget what a”—he gulped for breath—“vicious little harpy you can be.”

  She stood and curled her lip. Men were such fools. “I have warned you repeatedly. I am not yours and never shall be again.”

  “Of course, you realize”—he panted for another breath with exaggerated effect, his tone playful—“you are only inflaming my passions. You do it intentionally.”

  She glared down at him, struggling to keep from raising her voice. “Shame on you, Joshua—you are a married man now and I am engaged.”

  He looked up at her, his eyes glittering with arousal. “This changes nothing. You know you’ll always be my own wicked seductress.”

  My wicked seductress, I always knew you would be this way. It shows in your eyes, the way you move…

  Joshua’s words, here in this very garden.

  In his father’s fine closed carriage.

  In her bedchamber upstairs in Mrs. Hazelwood’s house after he’d sneaked in through her window.

  That night when he’d pledged undying love for her.

  And all those months after, while he’d systematically ripped away all her innocence and showed her just how wild and wanton she could be. And he had encouraged it. Praised it. Adored it. So much so that she’d let herself dream again of babies and booties and cold winter’s nights spent snuggled up against a hale and healthy male body.

  Then Joshua had married an angel. Anne Abbott, the purest, gentlest girl in all of Philadelphia. He’d planned on having both Anne and Beth—wife and mistress.

  He had planned wrong.

  She had turned down his offer of a luxurious house, a carriage, clothing, and servants, and had intended never to look back. But he’d managed to keep himself in her life by providing free medical services to her always ailing sister.

  “You’ve done quite well for yourself. You’ve managed to get your merchant prince to marry you.” His voice resonated with bitterness. “But does he know everything about his dear little princess?”

  Fear gripped her innards. “He does.”

  And it was the truth…up to a point. Grey knew everything he had a right to know. Everything she intended to tell him.

  Dr. Wade laughed, a sound all the more wicked for its softness. “No, I wager he does not know all. He seems quite fastidious. I doubt you told him everything I taught you. Everything your naughty, delicious little body desires in a bed.”

  Her heart began pounding. Hard. Only Joshua knew the depths of her sexual wickedness. She knew it was the biggest reason he had chosen another girl to marry. A decent girl. A lady who didn’t enjoy dirty, depraved carnal acts. She hugged her arms over her chest, feeling hunted. “What do you want from me?”

  He smiled. A nasty smile. A scorned lover’s smile, when he had no right to the title. “I just want to warn you.”

  His voice was velvet smooth and it sent chills through her.

  “Oh, yes—warn me about what?” Her heart hammered even harder against her ribs. Bile rose in her throat, burning. God, what could he mean to do? What if— “You’ll say nothing to him.” She came at him and gripped his arm. “Nothing.”

  He leant back and arched a brow. “Do you take me for a fool?”

  She released his arm. “I think you want to hurt me, though you have no cause.”

  “Good God, Beth, do you have so little respect for my intelligence? If I said anything about—well, shall we call it your more decadent tastes?—Sexton would demand his satisfaction of me. Your intended husband has quite a reputation on the dueling field. I’ve no wish to face him, believe me.”

  “Grey has never fought a duel in his life.”

  “No? Well, tell that to the man who’ll never lift his arm again.”

  She felt a little ill. But no—Joshua didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “He’s a man of business, Beth. A society gentleman. He has a reputation to protect. Of course he’s fought duels.”

  He spoke with such certainty, meeting her gaze levelly. Suppose it was true? Did she really know Grey at all? She shivered. “What the hell do you want?”

  “I told you—I want to warn you, sweetheart, not to get your little hopes up over how wonderful life will be with him. Mrs. Hazelwood has told me all about Sexton. His mother’s maiden name was de Grijs.”

  “Yes, what of it?” she snapped. Why must he drag this out?

  He crossed one leg over the other and brushed a speck of lint off his dark pantaloons. “De Grijs? Think, Beth. He comes not only from the elite of Boston but also the very pinnacle of New York society. Their society is far more insular than ours. You won’t have any experience or hope of fitt
ing in.”

  Her stomach sank, for she knew he spoke the truth. But knowing the truth and liking to hear it were two different things. “He says I can.” She barely whispered the words. It was as though, if she spoke too loudly, she’d hear the lie for what it was.

  “Oh, come, you can’t even look me in the eye as you say it.” His lip curled up and he grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him. She twisted out of his grasp.

  “Thank you for your confidence in me,” she replied stiffly.

  He closed his eyes. “I meant no insult; I simply do not want to see you hurt.”

  “How very odd for you, of all people, to worry over that,” she said with deliberate softness.

  He flinched. Then, eyes still closed, he nodded. “Yes, yes, I deserved that. But don’t let your righteous anger towards me make you deaf to the things I must tell you. Things you should know.”

  “Just shut up, you manipulative jackass.”

  “Beth, you know you’re making a terrible mistake. Sexton is not the man for you. He’s a cold, calculating man of business.”

  “He isn’t afraid to marry me.” She couldn’t keep the scorn out of her voice.

  Joshua flinched and paled a shade more. “Yes, he is a decisive man, but that can cut both ways, Beth.”

  That sounded ominous. Ice entered her blood. “Go on.”

  “He was married before, Beth. When he was a very young man.”

  “Yes, I know. He told me.” She took the end of her gown’s satin sash and plucked at several silken threads. Juliana de Lange. Her name sounded so elegant, so refined. It brought to mind a tall, willowy lady with patrician features and always cool and polite, even in bed. Beth paused and studied the sash and frowned. The end was hopelessly frayed.

  Joshua chuckled. The sound echoed soft and too deliberate for her to believe. “I doubt he told you all, any more than you have told him all.”

  She dropped the sash and jerked her gaze to his. “Just come out with it.”

  “Grey Sexton put his first wife out of his house. Sent her back to her father, and there she lived until she died, unable to have her husband and forbidden to take another.”

  “No, he didn’t. He would never do something like that.”

  “I am afraid he did. It caused a terrible scandal. All the sympathy went with her. She was the sweetest person imaginable.” He paused, watching intently for her reaction.

  She swallowed tightly and shook her head. “No, it can’t be true.”

  “Aye, that’s how cold he is. He had his freedom, took several mistresses. But she wasn’t free. Three years after he put her out, he maimed that man in the duel because they were fucking. You see, men like him—they must own everything and everyone in their lives. Even when they are done with them. And they grow bored so quickly. Tossing one wife to the street would make sending the second one that much easier, should he decide he’s tired of you or you don’t fit with his life. So don’t be too torn up when this beautiful dream of yours falls apart.”

  His sneering tone made her remember exactly who was bearing this unbelievable tale.

  “You dog-in-the-manger jackass,” she hissed. “You’re repeating nothing but gossip and lies.”

  He stood and collected his hat. “Time shall tell, my seductress, which one of us is correct.”

  He bowed, then turned and left.

  She watched him stride away through the garden. Heard the gate that separated Mrs. Hazelwood’s yard from his clink closed. He was leaving her to go home to his wife. His wife.

  She remembered his wedding day. She’d spent the day all smiles on the outside, while the pain crushed her inside, breaking her young heart to pieces. Her chest burnt now just thinking about it and she took a deep, ragged breath. She loved Grey utterly and completely, with a depth she hadn’t known with Joshua. It was too late to protect her heart now. Yet she knew she couldn’t break like that again. Not without dying.

  Joshua was wrong. She could—and she would—find a way to fit into Grey’s world. Things had to work out with Grey. They just had to.

  * * * *

  “This is your last chance to reconsider, Mr. Sexton.”

  In Mrs. Hazelwood’s study, under her sharp stare, Grey shifted in his chair. What the devil did she mean, reconsider? Did she honestly think he was the kind of gentleman who would reconsider a sacred commitment once made? That he wouldn’t have thought of all the counterpoints before committing? With her advanced age and gender in mind, he bit back a sharp retort and fixed her with a level gaze. “I assure you, I have no desire to reconsider.”

  And he truly didn’t. With the heat of anger drained from his blood, he knew that he and Beth needed only to get through this night. To stay on target with their original goal and not let their heated emotions get the better of them. Beth would feel more secure with things made official between them. She’d settle back down. “It is her extraordinary beauty that draws you, I know.”

  “Yes, she is beautiful—exquisitely so,” Grey replied. He’d be damned if he’d explain himself to the woman.

  The aged blue eyes flickered coldly with a hint of superior contempt. An eerie echo of the sneering contempt in Beth’s eyes when she spoke of her own beauty or appeal to men. “She’s bastard-born. The child of my servant.”

  He flinched, finding the sound of the word ‘bastard’ spoken in reference to Beth a very ugly thing. And what the devil sort of conversation was this, anyhow? The woman was supposed to be Beth’s advocate. “I know—both you and Beth have impressed this fact on me repeatedly.”

  “Then why must you do this to her?” Mrs. Hazelwood leant forward, her ice-blue gaze seeming to pierce into his very soul. She sighed and clapped her hands softly together. “Ah, but you will not relent in your quest to possess such beauty. Not even when she has neither the breeding nor the temperament to fit into your world. You do not know her as I do. She can be impulsive, driven by emotion—”

  “I think you have said enough.” He compressed his lips.

  Mrs. Hazelwood held up one hand. “No, you only know half the story. Let me tell you about the parts we covered over. How her mother grew wild. How that cunning, common little harlot cozened all that money out of us for Beth’s care. How we found Beth neglected and ill with fever in her cradle. We took Beth from Alice. She didn’t fight us. She had a new protector. She wasn’t particularly pretty but she was petite and well made. Such a quiet, meek thing she was.” Mrs. Hazelwood arched a brow. “I believe I am of an age where I may speak frankly to a gentleman.”

  He nodded curtly, shifting in his seat.

  “I did not realize it when I hired Alice but she was a siren tempting men to sin. She had a certain carnal, animal way about her. Her appetites appeared to know no bounds.” Mrs. Hazelwood’s eyes had gone flinty, not even blinking. “However, this new gentleman soon grew weary of her, as gentlemen will do. By then he had ruined her with use of opiates and other intoxicants. She was unbalanced. She threw herself from the roof of his mansion along the Schuylkill—to her death.”

  Grey sat back and took a deep breath. Dear God. It was an incredibly ugly story. One he’d pay any price to keep Beth from hearing. Ever.

  “So now you understand her bloodlines. The girl is going to shame you. She has no sense of personal dignity. She went about in rags, though I gave her plenty of money for better over the years. She gave it all to her good-for-nothing brother and his ever-failing shop.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said tightly.

  “I care for that wild girl and I’ll hate to see her hurt by your vain belief you can mould her to suit your fancy.”

  He studied the woman’s cool, patrician countenance. How the hell could she be so unfeeling to Beth, keeping her at a distance all these years, yet claim to care about her?

  “You won’t tell her? Ever, I mean, about her father and her mother?”

  “Of course I won’t. How could I? It would hurt her too much.”

  “Hurt her?” Mrs. Hazelwood’s
thin, white brows drew together. “Yes, I suppose it might. But for certain it would only confuse the poor girl. I did what I felt I had to do at the time. There was no fixing matters.” Her frail looking shoulders rose and fell as she sighed. “I have tried to do my best by that girl but she is so stubborn, so spirited. Surely you understand why she could never—should never know.”

  No, the best had not been done for Beth. But what good would it do to confront an old woman now when it was too late? “Let’s just get the announcement over with.”

  * * * *

  In the ballroom, Grey tried to pay attention to the conversation between two of his business associates, but it was a losing battle. The announcement was of necessity delayed, for there was no sign of Beth. Where the hell was she? And who was she with?

  But then he knew, didn’t he?

  He wanted nothing more than to go and find them and set that pale-faced, bespectacled doctor back on his heels. Then he would demand that Beth explain exactly what she was playing at. Inwardly, he laughed at himself. Life had taught him better than this, yet here he was. Right back to being a nineteen-year-old, newly-wed husband. Waiting and wondering where Juliana was and whom she was with. Learning with bitter affect that the woman he’d married was nothing more than a vain, selfish, spoilt flirt.

  On a late winter’s day, she had lain on the old, rickety, dusty bed—naked—and held her arms out to him.

  “I have waited for you. Only for you.”

  Her words, whispered against his ear, had seemed like a long-held dream come true—a dream he hadn’t even known he’d been wishing for. And he had fallen for her. Of course he had. She had been pretty, petite, delicately made with long, glossy, dark-brown hair and large brown eyes in a porcelain face. More than that, she’d been bright, happy and socially facile. He’d been all of nineteen, recently graduated from Harvard and wholly awkward around females. A virgin.