The Cynfell Brothers Collection

by Samantha Holt

  “Apart from drinking and fighting and whatever other interests he has.”

  Anna lifted a finger. “Those can hardly compare to the sacrifices women make. When they marry, they lose all rights. Far better to be a woman of power alone, I think.”

  “Well, you are a rarity. There are not many other women who hold such power.”

  “I was extremely lucky, that I will admit. I came into an inheritance because I was doted upon by an uncle. It meant I could invest it. But I do hope to help other women who don’t have such freedom.”

  They paused at the lakeside. Small ripples travelled across the surface, driven by the splashing ducks. A few row boats were being sent out from the jetty nearby as gentlemen attempted to court ladies in the relative privacy of their vessels.

  “I must ask, how is it you decided to create a place like Stourbridge? It is hardly the first choice for a respectable woman.”

  “You forget that I lost my respectability long ago. But actually it was accidental.” She smiled when one of the rowers nearly tipped himself and his lady friend into the water. “That man needs a lesson on rowing.”

  “He does indeed.” He took Anna’s hand. “Come, let us give him one.”

  “Harris!”

  He ignored her exclamation. What better way to cheer her up than a quick row on the lake, and as fine a time as ever to dig deeper into what made Anna, well, Anna. Just as those men were using it to charm the women they were with, he would use the opportunity to break further past that facade.

  He paid for the hire of the rowboat and dragged Anna down the little wooden jetty. She eyed the rickety boat warily.

  “Harris...”

  “Come now, you’re not afraid of water are you, Anna?”

  “Certainly not.”

  Harris stepped into the boat and the vessel wobbled precariously. He took a moment to gain his balance, aware of Anna staring at him as if he was a madman. Perhaps he was. And it was entirely his fault. All he could think of was how to cure her of her melancholy and dig just that little bit deeper.

  Offering his hand, he waited.

  She gave a sigh and took it. A little feminine squeak issued from her when she stepped into the boat.

  He pressed his lips together. It was hardly the sort of sound he expected from Anna but he could not help but like it. What sort of other sounds could she make? Breathy ones? Cries of pleasure? His body tightened at the idea of all the things he could do to discover as much.

  They settled onto the benches, and she rearranged her skirts while he placed the oars in the oarlocks.

  “I hope this will not strain your leg,” Anna muttered.

  “Nonsense. I’m perfectly fit.”

  Truth be told, he had not thought about his leg since meeting Anna that morning. If there were any pangs of pain in it, he had not noticed. The doctor would likely scold him for being so active, but there was nothing more that could be done for his leg. It was simply a matter of time as everyone liked to remind him. As far as he was concerned, a little exercise might help the damn thing get back to normal.

  He rowed until they were close to the middle of the lake. From there, they could see the park around them. The buildings of London acted like a wall, enclosing the beautiful spot of green. Vehicles passed by and smoke belched from chimneys, yet here they were in the little utopia in the middle of the city.

  And sitting opposite him was an incredibly beautiful woman. The only thing that would make it better was if she was in his arms.

  All in good time, he promised himself. The more time he spent with her, the more likely it was she’d acknowledge her need for him. But for now, this was about other things.

  “You were saying starting Stourbridge as a gambling den was an accident.”

  Anna drew her gaze from the scenery back to him. “Yes.” She used a finger to trace the embroidery around the sleeve of her jacket. “I had intended to purchase a house and perhaps run it as a hotel. These large houses are selling so cheaply these days because no one can afford to keep them. Stourbridge came onto the market at an excellent price so I went to visit it. On my way there, I stayed at a travelling inn.”

  “You did this all alone?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I was twenty when my inheritance arrived. Hard to imagine, is it not?”

  “You were very young.”

  “I had been forced to grow up quickly. But I’ll admit, I was not as business-minded as I am now. Part of buying a large house was purely for my own pleasure. My parents’ home was hardly small, but I always adored these great estates we visited when I was younger. And, of course, I certainly saw it as a snub to society. A little bit of petty revenge on my behalf, I suppose.”

  “You could buy a great house from someone who would very likely give you the cut.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Not the best way to make a business decision, I shall admit that much.” She pushed a curl from her eye and continued. “At the travelling inn, I met several working women, one of whom had been beaten badly. I had never really experienced that side of life before, and it shocked me. She told me she was better off working in such a trade than in one of the big houses or at a factory—she could earn much more and it was worth the risk. I knew I needed to protect women like that.”

  “So you started Stourbridge?”

  “Not quite. I had still thought of turning it into a hotel and hiring women like that, but my business advisor said firstly, no one would visit a hotel full of whores except gentleman of ill repute and secondly, such men needed enticement to come to the country. Why visit a brothel in the country when there were many fine ones in the town?”

  Harris shook his head in disbelief. It was hard to imagine a young woman considering such a venture, but then what he knew of Anna, it shouldn’t have surprised him. She was determined and fierce in business. Had she become a society wife, it would have been a great shame.

  She leaned back and trailed a hand in the water. Harris rowed lazily in a circle for a few moments and waited. Patience, he was discovering, was the key with Anna.

  “I thought of the men of society and the pleasures they sought.” She lifted a brow. “I also thought of how best to get my revenge on those who had cast me out. I’ll admit to being very bitter.”

  He could not help wonder if she was still not bitter at those who had cut her from society. Had she become impoverished as was likely to happen, she would not have been able to enter society in the manner she did at present.

  “And you are not bitter now?”

  A smile teased her lips. “Sometimes. But most of the time I am grateful. I’m free from societies expectations, Harris. I am an independent woman.”

  “But out of your bitterness, Stourbridge was born.”

  “Yes. It seemed perfect. Have the rich society men indebted to me and offer women in need a safe place to ply their trade. It is not exactly how I pictured my life, but I cannot regret my decision.”

  “And nor should you. You have achieved so much for a woman so young.”

  Anna laughed. “I am practically spinster age, Harris.”

  “Yes, but you are the most beautiful spinster I have ever known.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a smile lingered on her lips.

  There. He had not only learned more about her but succeeded in cheering her up. The squeal of a child rang out nearby, and she whipped her head around to view the little boy splashing about on the edge of the lake. His nanny scooped him up, much to his frustration. Harris chuckled as the infant struggled in his caretakers arms.

  “I think he wanted to take a dip.”

  Anna scowled. “He could have drowned.”

  “The lake is very shallow there, and the nanny was close by.”

  She shook her head. “Some people do not deserve children.”

  His heart dropped to his stomach. Any attempt to cheer her had failed. He gave one strong pull of the oar and moved the boat in a quick turn away from the scene. A tiny spray of water spla
ttered her, and she gasped.

  He shrugged. “Oops.”

  Swiping away the damp from her face, she narrowed her gaze on him.

  “It was not intentional, I swear it.”

  “No,” she agreed. She leaned back and put her hand in the water.

  “Anna,” he warned.

  “This is, though.” She scooped up a handful of water and flung it in his direction. Trickles of icy cold lake water splattered his face and dribbled down under his collar. He sucked in a startled breath.

  “Minx.”

  He twisted the oar so another spray of water struck her. She gasped and splashed him again before lunging for the oar. Harris kept a strong grip on it and laughed. The boat rocked precariously.

  “Keep that up, and we shall both end up wet.”

  She gave one last tug on the oar before giving up and retreating back to her bench. “I would almost be willing to just to see you utterly drenched.”

  “You do not need to dunk me in a lake to see me wet.” He let a brow rise. “There are many, many other more pleasurable ways of getting wet.”

  Her lips pursed as though trying to suppress a smile. “You are incorrigible.”

  “I am. It’s one of my better traits.”

  Anna simply shook her head and laughed in response.

  Better than before. At least she was still smiling. That counted as progress, he reckoned.

  Chapter Six

  Anna stole a peek at the man opposite her. They were eating dinner in a slightly rowdy establishment that Harris had assured her served the best steak and ale pie in the country. Perhaps it was time or the events of the day, but she was softening to him. And she did not like that one bit.

  Or did she?

  She had to admit, Harris’ determination to ensure she enjoyed the day and forgot business and what had upset her had worked. She wouldn’t forget her need to find out what had happened to her son, but there was little that could be done for now and she had to accept that. Until it was confirmed he was indeed hers, she had to be patient.

  “You were right, this is the best pie I have ever tasted.”

  He gave her an I told you so look. She was getting used to such a look—a smug smile that told her he knew what was best for her. How that was possible, she hardly knew. After all, she’d been looking after herself for quite some time now since her family disowned her. But Harris had kept her occupied all day, dragging her about the sights of London and treating her to a delicious high tea in Claridges. It had been...well, fun.

  She scowled. When was the last time she’d had fun?

  “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing.” She smiled and shook her head at herself. “I was just wondering when last I had a day where I was entirely at my leisure.”

  “A long time ago, I’d wager.” He motioned to the waitress and ordered another pint of beer each.

  She rarely indulged, but when she did, she preferred an expensive whisky or gin. However, Harris had said the liquors here were not to be trusted so they opted for ale. The tangy, fizzy taste was not wholly detestable, and she did enjoy the warm feeling as it spread through her.

  “It’s not easy to take time for yourself when so many rely on you for their employment.”

  “And many rely on you for their pleasure.”

  “Well, yes. I could hardly let down my customers now, could I?”

  He took a sip of his ale and eyed her. The frank look in his gaze seemed to pierce straight through to her insides. Perhaps it was the ale playing tricks, but he had somehow grown even more handsome. If she’d considered him irresistible before, she could not even say what he was now.

  “Will you always run Stourbridge?”

  “Will I be running a den of sin at a grand, old age, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “I cannot imagine so, but I have a few years left in me.”

  He chuckled. “What shall you do if you decide not to continue?”

  “There are plenty of other things to invest in. Charitable institutions, et cetera. I have been lucky enough to earn enough to keep myself in comfort for many years to come.”

  “You say that often, that you were lucky, but I cannot help think that many women would have frittered their inheritance away. I think you should be kind enough to credit yourself with some of your success.”

  Anna turned her attention to the meal and tried to fathom how it was Harris drew all of these confessions from her. Her past was hardly secret—to a point anyway. No one apart from her family knew of her son. Most knew of her downfall and that a man was behind it. Yet that was all anyone needed to know. No one cared what happened to her afterward, or how she left her family and thrived on her own. No one except Harris.

  And for the life of her, she could not understand why she had become so free with her tongue. There was something soothing about his company, something that made her feel free. Free from expectations and society, and even from the strain of running a place like Stourbridge. For the briefest moment, she had forgotten the pain of the past and been able to recount it with cold clarity.

  “How is Ash enjoying married life?” she asked, as another ale was brought over. As freeing as it was to have these discussions, she could not risk him finding out anymore. It left her too vulnerable.

  “Very well, I believe. Lila is quite good for him. He’s certainly a lot less grumpy.”

  “She’s a sweet girl. They seem a good match.”

  “I had wondered if there was not some connection between the two of you,” he confessed.

  Anna laughed and shook her head. “Once upon a time, many years ago, I was guilty of harbouring a slight fancy for him, that much I will admit. I have my doubts Ash ever returned the feeling.”

  He wrapped a hand around the glass of ale, and she saw his knuckles whiten. “I see.”

  “You are not jealous, are you?”

  Harris loosened his grip on the poor, helpless glass. “Would you like it if I was?”

  She opened her mouth to respond and failed so she took a sip of her drink. Damn her and damn him. Yes, she did like his jealousy and what a stupid emotion to get excited about.

  “You do, I see.” He flashed a grin.

  “Harris, you shall always see whatever you wish to see. There is little point in protesting.”

  “You would have me marked as a fool rather than admit the truth?”

  “I do not think you a fool, but I think you arrogant enough to believe whatever you wish to believe, regardless of the truth.”

  He leaned in a little, his voice low. “The truth is, Anna, you are jealous. You loathe the thought of me with another woman just as I cannot stand the thought of you with another man. And there is only one way to rid ourselves of this jealousy...”

  Her heart gave a hard thud against her ribs, reminding her that she was indeed alive even if she could not breathe at present. Words of protest froze and dried up in her throat. All she managed were the words that she had been trying so hard to hold back. “And how would we do that?”

  His lips curled in triumph. Part of her longed to slap him and wipe the smug look off his face while the other longed to reach across the table, grab his necktie, and pull him to her for a hard, furious kiss. She had never met a man who could rile her in so many different ways.

  Harris released the glass of ale and reached across the table to circle his fingers around her wrist. He twisted her palm upward and used a finger to trace circles on her palm—mimicking, she decided, the sort of movements he would use on her bare flesh. Her arm felt as though it were on fire. She wanted to fidget and yet the small movement froze her.

  “We would spend as many nights together as needed to rid ourselves of this madness. I would strip you bare.” His words were a soft, sensuous whisper. “I would remind you of the beautiful woman you are. Remind you of what that exquisite body can do. I would take all you can give and give it back to you tenfold. Then, when you are sated and your body is limp from pure pleasure, I
would do it again.”

  Heat flowed freely into her cheeks. Her body gave a rebellious little pulse. She couldn’t look away if she tried. His eyes were dark, hungry. The words rang in her ears. She could practically picture their bodies, naked, damp, entwined.

  She’d heard similar words before, yet they’d been coarse with talk of the man’s pleasure. Her previous lovers had only been concerned with themselves. With Harris, it would be different.

  And that had to be the most terrifying thing of all. How could she remain indifferent to him if he brought her such pleasures? It was too dangerous a game to play.

  Anna tugged her hand away. “I’m tired,” she declared. “I had better return to the hotel.”

  She stood before he could say anything and swivelled on her heel. As she pushed through the crowded tavern, she was met with a few annoyed grunts and declarations of, “Watch out, miss.”

  She ignored them. A desperate need for fresh air clawed at her throat. It was too much. All of it. His presence, his words. The events of today. How could she process any of it?

  When she burst out onto the street, she stopped under the puddle of golden light from the street lamp, and took several deep breaths. The air was tinged with the scent of coal and smoke which just masked a less pleasant smell coming from the sewers.

  She suddenly longed for her country home. Albeit, it was never the elegant country refuge she’d hoped for, not once she had turned it into a gambling den, but at least there she was the mistress of all. No man could set her on edge and toy with her mind there.

  “Anna.”

  Though she had known he would follow her, his presence still made her stiffen. Awareness trickled down her spine when he came up behind her and rested a hand upon her arm. “You should not be out here alone.”

  She glanced up and down the road. Traffic was sparse, but a few men and women littered the streets. Some huddled up against the buildings, seeking shelter from the cooler evening, their hands held out entreating any passers-by to take pity. Anna sighed. He was right. Even a woman with her experience wasn’t safe in London at night.