The Cynfell Brothers Collection

by Samantha Holt

  They took the single step up to the glossy black doors and he pulled the bell. When the door opened, noise spilled out into the night. An elegant woman with blonde hair piled high and a fashionable red gown silently put out a hand. Evelyn slipped a card into it and they waited as she retreated inside and closed the door again.

  Finally the door opened once more and the woman offered a wide smile. “Come in.” She made a sweeping gesture once they had stepped inside the main hall. “Welcome to Stourbridge. I’m Anna and I will be your hostess for the evening. Miss Trenton will take your hats and coats.” She motioned to a svelte young creature standing to one side. “Please be aware we do not use forms of address here. Everyone at Stourbridge is equal. I hope you will not find this offensive.” Anna addressed Evelyn, leaving him feeling close to invisible. But he supposed Evelyn was the one with the coin and power so he could hardly blame her.

  Damned annoying to be ignored by an attractive woman, though.

  Two pillars reached up to the ceiling and the decor was lavish and overdone. Statues of couples in various stages of copulation were scattered about the hall and pictures of voluptuous naked ladies done in the renaissance style covered the walls. Pierce fought the need to roll his eyes. Hardly subtle.

  “Not at all,” Evelyn replied, drawing his attention back to her.

  “To your left are the gaming rooms, to your right, you and your partner shall be able to eat in privacy. If you need a private room upstairs, please let one of the ladies know.” She skimmed her gaze over Pierce. “There are men in every part of the house apart from the private parts. Should you need any help, please ask them but be assured we expect our guests to behave themselves. Any fighting or inappropriate behaviour and we shall have to ask them...or you to leave.”

  Evelyn nodded. “Of course.”

  “This way then.”

  They followed Anna and Pierce silently seethed at her back. What did she take him for? What sort of characters came to this place that a woman would need men watching over her at every moment? She ushered them through a large drawing room and into a smaller room set up as a private dining room. Footmen drew out the chairs and they sat.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay.” Anna dipped and left.

  “Well, I didn’t expect a formal dinner here, to be sure,” he remarked when the first course was brought out to them. He noted that the servants scurried away and left them completely alone once the table was filled with plates. Even the desserts had been put on the table. Apparently they weren’t to be waited on at all.

  “I suspect they don’t consider this a formal dinner.”

  Pierce set to work on a shrimp dish and nodded. “I suppose I’m meant to do something scandalous to you.”

  “Most likely.”

  He looked to the food then the woman opposite her. “Do you mind if I eat first? I find myself quite hungry.”

  Evelyn laughed. “You’re a tease, Cynfell. But please do eat. I have no intention of letting you do anything remotely scandalous to me here.”

  He let his brow furrow. “Why bring me at all then? It seems to me you could have had plenty of amusement on your own.”

  “A male escort is essential in a place like this. Now, eat up. I wish to visit the gaming room.”

  The gaming room. The idea sent a curl of dread through him. Where once the mere whisper of a deck of cards made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, now only a shiver of apprehension skidded across his skin. He had no money to wager but it wouldn’t be hard to wager on his potential earnings from Evelyn, as unguaranteed as they were. He jabbed the shrimp on his plate and stuffed it into his mouth.

  No, his focus for the night was guarding Evelyn. She would prove enough of a distraction to help him ignore the pull of the cards. Hell, she was distracting him from his meal already and he was famished. He kept stopping to watch her take a sip of wine or nibble delicately on something. Pierce only hoped their visit here didn’t take too long. He needed to get her to bed and taste those wide lips again.

  Oh yes, and to see that beautiful body once more. The things he could do with it...

  “Eat up, Cynfell.”

  Tempted to shoot back with something pithy, he opted against it and hurried his meal. The sooner they left this place, the better. It made his skin crawl somehow. Perhaps he was not as debauched as everyone believed. Who’d have thought it?

  Pierce had to admit the food was excellent. Had he been anywhere else he might have enjoyed it. However, the idea of Evelyn in a place like this made his stomach bunch and he didn’t eat nearly as much as usual. When he met her gaze, he discovered his apprehension wasn’t merely because they were in a place where men came to indulge their every fantasy. It was because he saw that same apprehension in her gaze. Evelyn Chesworth was not so bold after all.

  But why come to a place like this if she didn’t really wish to be here?

  They finished their supper and he escorted her back into the hallway. A gentleman he recognised as a politician hastened upstairs with a woman. If he remembered correctly, the politician was married.

  Entering the gambling hall, the familiar scent of cigars, brandy, and cards assailed him. Once that smell had made his blood sing. Not so much anymore. He kept a firm hold of Evelyn’s arm when several of the men at the tables turned to watch her with interest.

  “Will you be so good as to get me a drink?” she asked him, scanning the room and the various games available.

  Pierce spotted the bar at the rear of the large room. “I’m not so sure I should leave you.”

  “Cynfell, I’ll be perfectly safe. Look, there are men everywhere.” She motioned to the various sizeable men keeping watch over everything.

  He grunted but knew there was no arguing with her. “Where shall you be?”

  “Over by the craps table.”

  Evelyn disengaged her arm and left him. Jaw tight, he stomped to the bar. At this rate, he’d be the one declining their agreement. Hadn’t he said he didn’t wish to be treated as a servant? Yet here he was being dismissed to fetch drinks. It took a lot for him to turn down the chance at a beautiful woman—not to mention a sum enough to clear his debts but a man had to have his pride. He didn’t have a lot of it left but really!

  Once at the bar, he had to wait several minutes to be served. Pierce spotted a well known singer, several actors from the London theatres and copious amounts of rich men. The balance of men to women made his hackles rise farther, particularly when he spotted one well-dressed man skulking toward Evelyn. The bartender drew his attention, but as soon as the drinks were ordered, he focused his gaze back on Evelyn and the young man.

  She leaned in close when he approached and he watched her lips to try to make out what she said. There was no hint of disgust or a glance his way in the hope of being rescued. No, instead she nodded and gave the man her full attention. What sort of game was she playing? Had she come here to liaise with other men whilst he stood to one side playing her protector? He certainly wouldn’t stand for it.

  Pierce snatched the drinks with a curt thank you and headed back to Evelyn. Several people blocked his path and forced him to bark orders at them to persuade them to move. When he was a few tables away from her, the man leaned in, handed her a slip of paper and brushed a hand across her shoulder. The movement was possessive and Pierce didn’t like it one bit.

  He placed down the drinks on a table and stalked over. Snatching Evelyn’s arm, he wrenched her away. She cried out and Pierce noted the men at the side of the room straighten. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get thrown out and she’d be left alone. He released her slowly.

  “What is the meaning of this, Cynfell?” she hissed as they edged to the side of the room.

  “What is the meaning of that?” he demanded, thrusting a finger in the direction of the man who lifted a drink in salute before vanishing into the crowds.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “If you think I’m going to stand by while yo
u flirt with another man—”

  “You have no claim over me.” She lifted her chin.

  Wary of losing his temper in front of all these large men, he drew in a breath. He rarely lost a fight but he didn’t like his chances against over half a dozen brutes.

  Evelyn allowed him to escort her out. She stopped in front of the door. “If you are going to be discourteous, I should like to leave.” With that, she spun on her heel, leaving him to follow her out.

  He bit back a curse. If only this woman was more predictable. When had he ever met a woman so brash and changeable? Never, as far as he knew. Most women of his acquaintance were fairly biddable, sweet characters. He managed to retrieve their hats and coats and found her already settled in the carriage. Jamming on his hat, he stepped into the carriage and slammed the door shut.

  “I had thought—” he turned to her as he sat “—that considering we were to come to an agreement, I wouldn’t be sharing you with another man.”

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Don’t go all possessive on me, Cynfell.”

  He narrowed his gaze at her as she tapped the roof and the carriage moved down the road. “I might not be in the best of circumstances but as I said, I’ll not be treated like a servant. You have no right, Evelyn.”

  “I have every right when I’m paying your bills.”

  Heat flared through him. He wasn’t sure if he was still furious or if it was passion sparking inside. The way her lips pursed in annoyance and her eyes flared had a certain appeal. Damn, the arrogant woman. And here he thought he was meant to be the arrogant one.

  “I don’t think for a moment you believe it’s acceptable to treat a man like that.” He took her arms and forced her to look at him. “If you want me in your bed, you’ll treat me as your equal. Who was that man? Who is he to you?”

  “No one. Nobody.”

  “I won’t share you,” he said tightly. His gaze fell to her lips. She wouldn’t listen. He’d simply have to show her. Remind her how good it would be. When he was done with her, she wouldn’t even look at another man. “For these three months, you are mine and mine alone.”

  Chapter Six

  The rhetoric shouldn’t have excited her. It shouldn’t have twisted her stomach into knots of excitement. Evelyn had been an independent woman for many years and the idea of being owned by a man was such an old-fashioned notion. Yet it bunched her insides and sent a flutter through her.

  Pierce’s eyes were dark in the confines of the carriage. She hadn’t been sure the man had a temper—after all he’d been abandoned on the side of the road in naught but his skin and had still maintained an amiable mood. She couldn’t deny the possessiveness plucked at some invisible string inside her.

  His gaze flicked to her lips and back to her gaze. And again. She saw the intent there and willed him on. It appealed far more than the alternative which was to explain why she’d had to meet with that awful man. A kiss from Pierce Cynfell would erase the creeping feeling George Whitbury’s hands had left on her.

  The carriage hit a rut and knocked her forward. She splayed her palms across his chest and looked up. It was enough. His mouth came down on hers with such force that it made her cry out. He matched his possessive words with movement, gripping her tight and holding her close while he claimed her mouth with his tongue and lips. She hadn’t put on her jacket so her shoulders and décolletage were still bare.

  Bare to his touch, bare to the way his waistcoat buttons were cold against her skin. Evelyn wriggled against him in a bid to get closer. He grunted and hauled her onto his lap. Because of the thin petticoat she wore, she was able to feel the hard ridge of his arousal against her bottom. A pulse of longing threaded through her.

  Pierce pushed down the straps of her gown and petticoat and clever fingers found their way under her corset. Determined not to let him be the only one exploring, she began to work on his buttons while his lips found their way down her neck to her collarbone. She undid his waistcoat with trembling hands then set to work on his shirt. They both cursed when the carriage rocked them and his hands came about her to protect her from a fall.

  A faint flourish of warmth whirled through her at the protective action. Indeed, she had been fending for herself for a while now and the life of a duchess was not easy. It meant much time alone at the high end of society. Untouchable, unreachable and thoroughly lonely. Until now...

  “Touch me, Cynfell,” she moaned against his jaw, tasting the slight tang of his skin.

  “I’m trying,” he said through gritted teeth as his fingers found their way back inside her corset. She nipped his ear. “Bloody hell.” He gave up on her breast and pushed up her skirts. Fingertips brushed her thigh and then higher. “Bloody buggering hell,” he breathed.

  She laughed when he touched the bare skin of her inner thigh. “Drawers ruined the line of the gown.”

  “Gown, be damned. Drawers, be damned. Never wear them again.”

  Before she could utter something in response, his fingers found her sex. He skimmed her sensitive nub, once, twice a third time and settled into a circling motion. Evelyn gasped against his neck and gripped him tight.

  “For these three months,” he told her, pausing. “Your body is mine.”

  She nodded and ground herself against him. “Yes.”

  “No other men.”

  As if she would. But she supposed he didn’t know that. They didn’t know much about each other really. “No.” Moving again, she tried to repeat the same pressure on her pearl. “Please.”

  Pierce pressed two fingers deep inside her and she cried out. Managing to gather her senses enough to slip a hand between them, she fumbled with his trousers. She had no doubt he’d try to drag her to the edge and she wasn’t going alone. His hardness sprung into her hand as she pulled down his undergarments. The tingling sensations flowing through her body increased, and he pulsed against her palm, uttering a curse.

  Evelyn kept up an unsteady pace, distracted by his magical fingers while he worked them in and out of her needy body. She stroked him until he gripped her wrist tight with his free hand and forced her away. She pushed his own hand from between her legs and hitched up her skirts.

  “Now, Cynfell.”

  He cupped her face as she settled across his lap. His greedy kisses stole any sense from her and she heard the ripping of fabric while she eased herself closer to him. Skirts likely torn asunder, she ground against his shaft and thrust her fingers into his hair.

  “Now,” she demanded.

  Gripping the back of her neck for leverage, he thrust up into her. She froze. He did it again. One great, long, hard thrust that had her head spinning. Then again, holding her in place while he eyed her greedily. Evelyn threw her head back and allowed him to keep the pace. Thrust, thrust, thrust. He quickened.

  Outside the sound of horse hooves and creaking springs masked the sounds of their lovemaking. Pierce made love to her with reckless abandon and shocking dominance. She knew she’d repay him for it one day, but for the moment, she didn’t care. He used her body and she welcomed it.

  The spark he’d already lit inside her began to burn. It sizzled through her, forcing her to close her eyes. He used a thumb to caress her sex while his other hand continued to guide her body. One heavy thrust and one long sweep of his thumb had her tumbling over the edge. Evelyn opened her mouth and called out her pleasure.

  He followed her swiftly after, moving her off him so that he milked himself with a groan. Evelyn rested her head in the crook of his neck and watched as he spilled over his hand. She took the time to gather her breath and he tilted his head back against the seats.

  Then he turned a wicked grin on her. “So, three months?”

  She nodded. “Three months.”

  What a wonderful three months they were going to be.

  Chapter Seven

  Pierce drew his horse to a halt and eyed the great house. The river weaved its way past, swollen from recent rain and the flat land about it spread for
many miles. Most of which was Evelyn’s. Or at least in her care. Something he had discovered over the past few weeks was that this land took much care. When he wasn’t attending to her in bed or dining with her, she spent most of her time in the office.

  He gave the reins a flick and set the horse into a gallop. Energy sizzled through his body and he needed to be rid of it. He smirked to himself. Many men would have found themselves drained by the beautiful duchess, but not he, apparently. In spite of a quick tumble this very morning, where he’d taken her hard and fast against a wall, he’d found himself bored and restless.

  Not that Evelyn bored him. Far from it. It was everything else that did it.

  Urging the horse up a small slope, he headed for the track that led to the bridge crossing the river. Mud flicked about him and his boots and trousers would likely be spattered. Not that it mattered. Since they’d made their agreement, Evelyn had arranged for most of his belongings to be brought to the house by carriage. He could change when he returned to the house.

  He gave the horse another quick dig with his heels and an encouraging shout after they crossed the bridge.

  Pierce’s breaths came quick and fast and sweat began to rise from the mount. He settled into a canter. He suspected he could go far longer than the damn horse. Apparently he’d have to find another way to occupy himself if even her fine geldings couldn’t keep up with him.

  Evelyn had seen to everything. She’d arranged their contract, had his belongings delivered...hell, she’d even wanted a list of his creditors. While she might know how much he owed, he wasn’t having her run off and pay all his bills herself. He had some pride.

  And now that pride was being tested. He’d recognised that from the beginning. There was only so long a man could be a wealthy woman’s lover without feeling the need to be useful in ways other than the bedroom. It wasn’t in his nature to be a man of leisure. The itching desire to find a nearby inn and deal a hand of cards crawled under his skin but he thrust it aside. He might only be able to lose pennies in a travelling inn but it didn’t matter. Pennies were where it all started.