“The one before Taylor, Clarissa’s late husband, died in a carriage accident. He was thrown from the conveyance and then stomped to death by one of the horses. The one before him hung himself from the rafters of his barn. Indeed, the title is cursed.”
Was it Andrew’s imagination, or was Buxton taking joy in telling the tale of the unfortunate dukes.
“What about the duchesses?” Andrew asked. “Have they been unfortunate, also?” He hated the idea of Clarissa being at the receiving end of such misfortune.
“There are rumors the name is cursed,” Essex said. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard anything about it.”
“I don’t pay attention to gossip,” Andrew said. “You should know that about me.” Which was true. He didn’t like gossip, but he knew there was always a bit of truth to many of the tales that flittered about society.
“Carin has a friend who provides information to the gossip rags,” Essex said. “I think her name is Fiona. Perhaps she knows something about Marks, or can pose questions to people who will provide us with information about this missing book. From what I understand she is quite skilled at finding things out.”
“We’ll send Carin out when we return,” Buxton said. “In the meantime, I don’t think you should engage Marks. We know nothing about him, and that is a dangerous thing.”
“If he hurts her…” Andrew didn’t finish his sentence, because he wasn’t quite sure what he would do to the man. Because they didn’t know anything about him, Andrew considered that the man was capable of anything.
From what they’d overheard that afternoon he really wanted that book back.
“Hopefully this Fiona woman will be able to provide us with information,” Andrew said. “In the meantime, I plan on keeping Clarissa away from Marks. Which means I need to go back inside and make sure he’s not hurting her.”
A pit formed in the center of his stomach and grew. Andrew knew Marks would not attack Clarissa in the middle of a party, but he had no doubt that he would search her rooms if given a chance. He might do it now, while the others were all downstairs, or he might try and get in there during the night. Marks could either try to seduce her, or he could go in there when he thought Clarissa was asleep.
“Damn the situation to the devil and back,” Andrew said.
Anger fell off him like sheets of rain. He stepped back off the steps and took a few deep breaths in an effort to get a hold of his senses.
“I’m going to do some spy work upstairs,” he said as he moved toward the door again.
“I’ll go with you,” Buxton said.
“And I’ll go inside and warn you if someone is coming your way,” Essex said.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Andrew said. His mood lightened a little at the idea of Essex yelling out, “Watch your back, Andrew!”
“I’ll think of something,” Essex said.
“Let’s get up the stairs before someone comes up and stops the whole plan.”
“I’ll check on things inside,” Essex said. “We’ll meet up after the dancing to compare our observations.”
They went inside, and Andrew stopped to look between the stairs, off to the left, and the room from where the music still drifted. He didn’t stop to see if she was still in there. He ran toward the stairs, with Buxton on his heels. He wished he knew in which room Marks was staying. Searching his room might provide them with the information they needed about the book.
“This wasn’t what I’d expected from this weekend,” Andrew said as they neared Clarissa’s door.
“You just wanted to bury your cock inside her and have a few good rides, right?” Buxton said. “She’s not the type of woman to give it away to someone she’s just met.”
Andrew wondered if that was true. She was a woman who had been hurt so badly by her husband that she didn’t plan on marrying again, true. But somehow he thought she might enjoy a tumble, or two, or three.
If he didn’t bed her this weekend he would have to visit Bath and seduce her properly. He would treat her with care, being gentle not only with her body but with her mind. The first time, anyway. After that he would show her what good, rough sex was like. And he was sure she would love every second of their time together.
He put his hand on the doorknob… and that’s when all hell broke loose downstairs.
Chapter 5
Clarissa knew she should have kept her mouth closed, but when she saw Belinda, wearing the hair combs that were part of the missing things she’d been searching for, she used a word she didn’t necessarily use.
“That bitch.”
Ryan, who was standing next to her, huffed in indignation and Clarissa turned to him. “Forgive me, but Lady Strauss has something that belongs to me.”
Clarissa would be damned if she would stand here and let her husband’s mistress flaunt the fact she had something that belonged to Clarissa.
Causing a scene was not in her best interests, but Clarissa didn’t care. She wanted those combs, and if she had to rip them out of Belinda’s hair to get them, then so be it.
“I’ll be back momentarily,” she said to Ryan. Then she stormed across the room, making her way to Belinda who stood talking to Neill Marks. Clarissa knew she should wait for Andrew, that she shouldn’t confront the woman who had inserted herself into Clarissa’s marriage. But seeing them in the hair of a woman she thought of as nothing more than a whore made her blood boil.
Belinda was so busy batting her eyelashes at Neill that she didn’t notice Clarissa until it was too late. Clarissa hauled back and slapped the woman across the face. The impact sent Belinda tumbling. Neill grabbed her before she could hit the ground, and Clarissa took advantage of the time to grab the combs and tear them from the blonde woman’s hair.
“I believe these belong to me.” Then she did something she knew she would regret. She doubled her hand into a fist and popped Belinda in the face.
Belinda screamed in pain, or at least Clarissa thought it was pain, and then yelled, “Bitch,” before flailing out her arms. Neill grabbed her and held her close.
“It’s not bad enough that you acted the whore and stole my husband from me? I won’t allow you to wear things that are mine. You’re a thief. And my husband was a thief!”
The crowd, which had grown quiet, gasped. Clarissa looked around. All the party goers were staring at her, and the band had stopped playing. Belinda tried to pull free from Neill’s arms but he held her close.
“Does it make you feel good to know that you were sleeping with another woman’s husband?” Clarissa hissed out the words. “Why couldn’t you get one of your own? Because you spread your thighs for anyone? No one wants to be with a whore!”
“Obviously, Taylor did,” Belinda screeched. “Don’t blame me that you couldn’t keep your husband, you frigid bitch!”
The words tore through Clarissa’s heart, and she arched her hand back, ready to slap Belinda across the face. But before she could launch the strike someone grabbed her from behind.
“What are you doing?” Andrew pulled her close to his body. His breath was hot on her neck and it made her as mad as a bull in an arena. In an effort to break away from his hold she lifted her feet off the ground and pushed backward. Unfortunately, she didn’t think it through, and when she pushed they went tumbling backward, crashing to the floor in a heap of her skirts.
Clarissa struggled against his arms, since he hadn’t let her go, even when she landed on top of him.
“Stop struggling!” he called out.
Clarissa, her chest heaving with anger and exertion, knew there was no way she was going to get out of his arms. “Let me go,” she managed to say.
“Only if you promise to behave.”
Who was he kidding? Clarissa looked up. Lord Barton had stepped in front of Belinda, who looked as if she could start a fire with a snap of her fingers. Neill Marks had disappeared. Duchess Stanhope stood off to the side, her look a mixture of anger and wonderment. Andrew knew that their hostess
was happy about the tiff, because now her party would be the talk of scandal rags for months.
“Clarissa?”
“I’ve calmed down,” she said, although she was still struggling against Andrew’s hold. She watched as Lord Barton propelled Belinda out of the room.
Watching her leave calmed Clarissa. She stopped squirming in his arms, her breath calming down as her breathing stopped coming out in short gasps; he laughed in her ear and said, “I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”
He let her go and a hand appeared in front of her face. It belonged to the Duke of Stanhope, who helped her to her feet. Andrew was beside her in seconds.
“Your Grace, please accept my humble apologies,” Clarissa said. “I will pack and leave at once.”
“Not during the middle of the night, you won’t.” The Duke of Stanhope shook his head. But Clarissa watched as he turned to his wife. She also shook her head and mouthed, “No.”
“I was just overcome by rage,” Clarissa looked at Kate. “That woman brings out the worst in me.”
“She’s a known problem,” the duchess replied a little louder for the crowd, “if I had thought about the history between you two I would not have invited her.”
Andrew took Clarissa’s hand. She clutched the hair combs tighter. She had two of the items back. Now, she needed three more. She had a feeling they were in Belinda’s room right now. Now, would be the time to look for them, while Lord Barton had Belinda out in the gardens, it would be a perfect time to recover her property.
“Shall we take a walk in the gardens to cool off?” Andrew asked. Clarissa couldn’t help but stutter, with no real words forming. Was he kidding? Wasn’t that where his friend had taken Belinda?
“No, thank you,” she said. She opened her hand to reveal the large ivory combs inlaid with tiny sapphires. “I think I would like to go upstairs now.”
“So you say, but I think a breath of fresh air would do you wonders.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, and when they went past Ryan, Clarissa wasn’t surprised to see him look away. He hadn’t stepped up to help end the fight; neither had Neill, who had disappeared period.
When they were out of the room, Clarissa heard the buzz of conversation behind her.
“This will be the talk of the weekend,” she said.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s what Kate expected,” Andrew said. He turned them toward the gardens. “It’s not a nice thing to say, but I’m certain the duchess purposefully invited Belinda in the hopes that sparks would fly. I have no doubt she’s very happy about the outcome.”
Clarissa stopped walking. “I don’t believe that, she told me it was an accident. Kate is a wonderful woman.”
“Who wants to have her parties well attended,” he said. “People will accept her invitations in anticipation that something explosive will happen.”
She hated to admit that he had a point. They were almost at the open garden doors now. A footman bowed as they neared, and Clarissa pulled back.
“She’s out there.”
“Barton will have taken her far from the main house,” Andrew said. “Please, trust me on this.”
“I don’t trust myself,” she said. “How could I have acted as if it were a boxing match? I’m so embarrassed. I disrespected the Stanhopes. Despite what they say I should leave.”
“No one would bring out a carriage for you this late,” he said. “If you prefer to go upstairs and be alone, I understand.”
Did she want to? He was not judging her now, saying that she was a horrible person for what happened. She didn’t really want to be alone right now. She would just feel sorry for herself and make things worse.
“It is a nice, cool evening,” she said, basically taking the decision out of her hands.
Next to her, Andrew offered her his arm and she took it. They started into the darkness, and Clarissa prayed they didn’t see Belinda.
They entered the garden and walked a bit in silence before they found a bench.
“Sit down, Clarissa,” Andrew said. He helped her down and she looked at the combs still in her hand.
“Family heirlooms?” he asked.
“Yes, they belonged to my mother’s mother.” She turned them around in her hand. “She still has two necklaces and a bracelet. I feel like we should go get them now.”
“Not a good idea,” Andrew said. “She admitted the combs belonged to you, but if you went to her room now she would accuse you of being a thief and taking what is hers.”
His words rang true, but she didn’t like hearing them. “She will guard them now.” She wasn’t sure how she’d thought of that, but it was at the forefront of her mind.
“She will,” he said. “Don’t worry, we will figure out a way to retrieve your belongings, I promise. My friends and I are very resourceful in that regard.”
“Resourceful in taking things from people who don’t want to give them up?” she asked, turning to look at him. It would be best, right now, if she could see his expression. If he was the type of person who would sneak into someone’s house and take things, even if they didn’t belong to them, he was someone she didn’t want to have in her circle.
“I’m not thief,” he said. “But we, well, shall we say, we take charge in situations and make sure the right person comes out on top.”
“Would that be before or after your orgies?” Now, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see his expression, which was a mixture of pure humor and sexiness that made her forget—almost—that he and his friends were deviants.
“I should go in the house now,” she said.
In response, he put his hand behind her neck and pulled her close. The kiss was deep and seductive. It made her insides heat in a way that had never happened to her before.
When the kiss broke, Clarissa knew she needed to misdirect him. If that didn’t happen she was worried about what would happen, physically.
“I’ve managed to make a royal mess of things,” she said.
“Really, my kiss brought you back to that?” He had that sexy look back on his face and Clarissa couldn’t help but smile. “I’m obviously not at the top of my game tonight. Let me try once again.”
This time his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she gasped in pleasure—and bit him.
“Ouch.” He pulled back and she gasped again, this time in horror. “I’m so sorry.”
Strange noises were coming out of his mouth and she worried that she’d hurt him. But then she realized it was laughter. He put his hand on his lips and said, “Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting either,” he said after a few long moments.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “No one has ever done that to me before.”
“Your late husband was sorely lacking in your erotic education.” He cleared his throat and this time he leered at her, which made her question her sanity. She shouldn’t be here with him. He and his friends were deviants, and she should avoid them.
“This time I want you to put your tongue in my mouth,” he said.
“I shouldn’t,” she whispered.
“You want to do it, and I want you to,” he said.
Still, she didn’t move toward him. Her immobility seemed to make him question his statement, because he cocked his head just a little and said, “If you want to go inside, we can go. I don’t force myself upon women.”
“Are there a lot of women?” She didn’t want to be part of a harem.
“There are a few,” he said. She waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t. They stared at each other, their faces illuminated only by the moonlight. She licked her lips, wondering what her tongue would feel like in his mouth.
She leaned toward him and then immediately pulled back. “You’re not going to bite me, are you?”
“No,” he said.
So she kissed him, and when he pressed his tongue against her lips she opened her mouth. His tongue went back into his mouth, which she knew was the invitation for her to do as he’d asked. She
did so, tentatively at first. But when she tasted him, the wine he’d had with dinner and the saltiness of his lips, she pushed in farther, savoring the taste, licking at his insides as if in search of more.
Andrew caressed the back of her neck as she kissed him, and then when she pulled back to take a breath he pulled her back quickly and his tongue came into her mouth. She didn’t bite him this time. Instead, she let him explore her just as she had done him, and when he pulled back she wanted to stay with him, wanted to take off her clothes and have him inside her. It had been so long, and despite the fact that Taylor had turned out to be an incredible ass, she liked having a man inside her.
Then she remembered that he and his friends had sex in groups. She ran her fingers over her lips and tried to stand.
“Don’t go,” he said.
“You frighten me,” she said. “I hate to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
“Don’t I intrigue you, just a bit?”
A rustle from the path made her take a step away from him. “You intrigue me too much.”
“Leave your door open for me tonight.”
“No,” she said.
“At one.” He stood and squeezed her hand. “That’s the witching hour for house parties at the Stanhope’s house.”
“Does that mean everyone will be seeking a bed partner?”
“I think we’ve already found each other,” he said.
“Don’t be so brass, Lord Andrew,” she said.
“It’s one of my finer qualities,” he said with a laugh.
He wanted to kiss her one more time, but before he could the Essexes came into sight.
“There you are,” Essex said.
“Oh, Clarissa,” Charlotte said. She hurried over and pulled Clarissa into a hug. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Clarissa said.
“She has quite a punch,” Essex said with a laugh. “If they ever set up female boxing matches you should take part.”
Clarissa wasn’t sure exactly what to say. So, she looked away.
“Dalton, behave,” Charlotte said. “Clarissa is obviously disgusted by what happened.”
His Party Guest: Rakes of Mayfair Book Five Page 6