She examined the bloody cuts around his wrists and tears came to her eyes. “We must get something for these. You could become ill from the rusted manacles.”
“Actually,” said Arthur with a gleam in his eyes, “all the manacles in that room are new. Some even have padding on them. The room itself was well appointed, including a decanter of French brandy which I poured on my wrists to clean the cuts.”
“How did you know to do such a thing?”
“Ned’s wife Jane taught us all a great deal about the medicinal uses of brandy, whisky and other spirits.”
“I don’t understand why the room had new shackles.”
Arthur wondered how much he should enlighten her. Even in the dim moonlight, he’d seen enough of the room to understand more than he wanted to know about Newcastle’s sexual habits. And while he certainly hadn’t been comfortable in the shackles, he believed the point of it was more to keep him away from Vanessa, rather than do him any physical harm. He could explain that later. For now he simply said, “Newcastle has interesting taste. What did he do to you?”
“He tried to seduce me, but I fought him off. He did agree to give us the chalice in the morning, but only after I threatened him.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s being reasonable sweetheart, but I’m still going to beat him within an inch of his life.”
Arthur brushed past her and she had to run to catch up. “No, Arthur, you can’t. Not until we get the chalice. There’s too great of a chance that he could change his mind. And right now I just want to get the chalice and leave here as soon as possible.”
He looked at her for a long moment. The urge to exact retribution was warring with his desire to take her away from that place as soon as possible. Finally, he sighed and said, “I won’t hurt him now. But I can’t wait to run into him in London. Hopefully with my carriage.”
“Thank you,” she said then kissed him lightly. They headed for the stairs to the servants’ quarters, but Arthur stopped in front of the door to the treasure room. “Perhaps we can do something to make sure Newcastle won’t change his mind about the chalice.” He knelt in front of the door, then began picking the locks.
“How did you learn to do that?” she asked.
“You come across men from all walks of life in a gaming hell. It’s amazing what you can learn just by buying someone a drink. It’s how I escaped the manacles and got out of the room. Don’t tell me you can’t pick a lock.”
“Of course I can,” said Vanessa, grinning. “I just never knew toffs could be useful before.”
He smiled at her, just as the first lock clicked. After unlocking the other two, he opened the door, then ushered her in before him. “After you, love. Let’s see if we can do something to truly irritate the blasted Duke of Newcastle.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They left the door only slightly ajar, so as not to attract attention in case one of the servants passed by. The moonlight which came in through the high windows gave the room almost a ghostly feel. The unused treasures from centuries past were piled throughout: French furniture, jewels from the Orient, paintings from the Old Masters. All of it was stored as if they were cast-offs from a king.
“The paintings should be in a museum,” said Vanessa, as Arthur went to work on the safe’s lock. “And any one piece of jewelry could build a hospital for the poor.”
“I imagine Newcastle would rather toss it in the Thames before aiding the indigent. As a member of the House of Lords, he routinely votes against all measures to help those poor souls living in the stews. It’s one of the reasons Liam cannot stand the man. You look tired, love. Why don’t you sit on that chaise? It’s Louis XIV, unless I’m very much mistaken.”
“You mean it’s from that era?” Vanessa asked as she peeked beneath the Holland cover at the velvet upholstery.
“I mean it’s likely from Versailles,” said Arthur as he heard a very satisfying click. He swung open the safe door and reached inside. The chalice was there, wrapped in a soft cloth. He held it up to her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I have half a mind to suggest to the King just how much this belongs in the palace, rather than Newcastle’s vault.”
“The duke would hate that,” said Vanessa. “Please do it.”
“It will be my pleasure, my lady.” He bent over Vanessa’s hand to kiss it, then they heard noises in the hall. He pulled her behind a tall armoire with a pearl inlay design from the Orient.
“What’s this?” said the voice of an elderly man in the corridor.
Hidden from view, Arthur pulled Vanessa closer against him. He watched through a crack as the old man opened the door then peered in, shining his lantern into the treasure room. After a moment he departed, shutting the door as he left. Then he turned the key, effectively locking them in. Arthur could feel Vanessa stiffen.
“He locked us in,” she said.
“He did.”
“Can you get us out of here?”
“Eventually. We may actually be safer here than in our rooms. If Newcastle is looking for us, he’ll check there. I doubt he’ll come in here.”
“Are you suggesting we stay until morning?”
“Not necessarily. But we may want to stay here for at least a while, so we should get comfortable.” Arthur carefully placed the chalice on a table that looked like it might have been from the Russian Imperial Court. Then he pulled back the Holland cover from the French chaise. He ran his hand along the small bed’s surface. “It’s quite soft. I believe this will do nicely.”
“For what?” asked Vanessa, whose heart had suddenly begun to pound in her chest.
“To make love, of course.”
Vanessa wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. She didn’t know whether she should ask him to repeat the statement or fall directly into his arms. She knew she was tempting fate by even considering becoming his lover. But it had been a long, eventful night. The panic of not knowing where he was earlier was still fresh. He meant too much to her. That much was clear. But she also knew she didn’t want to walk away without ever experiencing what it would be like to make love to him.
Arthur knew he should pick the lock and leave the treasure room. He should escort Vanessa back to her chamber, where he’d remain on guard against that bastard Newcastle all night. Instead, there he was, doing what he told himself he could not do. He wanted to make love to her if she would have him. It had been agony earlier when he’d come to his senses shackled to the wall. A million nightmare scenarios had gone through his head about what Newcastle might do to her. He’d come close to pulling the manacles out of the wall as he’d tugged on the damned things while picking the lock to free himself. The cold dread in his stomach told him he cared too much. The fear that he couldn’t protect her drove him mad. He needed to hold her close. To come to her as a lover and fill her. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Tonight was for the two of them.
She walked into his arms just as he reached for her. Their lips met in an explosion of passion. All the anger he’d felt at Newcastle, all the uncertainty of seeing her through the mission, turned into an enormous need to make her his own. Tonight. In that ridiculous room filled with treasures of immeasurable value. But no object could compare to the woman who was with him and the place she’d earned in his heart. He pushed that disconcerting thought to the back of his mind, then set himself to relishing every moment which was unfolding between them. She was in his arms fully engaged, his for the night. And he was tired of being afraid of the future.
He turned her around then began unlacing her dress as he kissed her neck. She was reaching back toward him, as if she couldn’t bear to stop touching him for even a moment. He kissed each inch that was revealed, then slid the dress off her body. As he pulled her back flush against him, he knew she could feel his achingly hard cock pressed against her arse. As she pressed into him he let out a groan, then turned her around and began kissing her.
She helped him disrobe. Between the two of them, they tore off his evening clothes and
tossed them aside. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his cravat land on a Rubens, but the thought fled his head just as quickly as it had appeared. Nothing was as important as the two of them being together skin to skin, heart to heart.
He picked her up, then lightly tossed her on the chaise lounge. He followed her down, and found her lips with his. She reached for his cock and the feel of her hand squeezing him almost made him come. They both explored with hands and lips. She wrapped a leg around his hip and his hand found the curls at the apex of her thighs. Once again she was wet, hot and ready for him. He lifted his head, so he could look into her beautiful eyes.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice but a rasp. “Do you really want this? Tell me you want this as much as I do. Or if not, now would be a good time to let me know, so I can go beat my head against the vault.”
“You talk too much, Arthur. And yes, I want this very much.”
His cock was swollen beyond endurance. He positioned himself at her entrance and rubbed the broad head against her searing heat. He wanted to prolong the moment while at the same time was anxious to plunge into her. He hadn’t been this excited, this desperate since he’d been a green lad. He pressed into her. She was tight. Exquisitely so. He went slowly to ensure he didn’t hurt her.
When he was seated fully within her, he stilled, then kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips, waiting for a sign that she was ready to continue. She looked up at him and smiled. It was a sight both sweet and erotic.
He pulled back slowly, then pressed into her again. He established a rhythm that she easily followed. She met him as a partner in their passion. Her hips rising, then pulling back. He couldn’t get enough of her, and too soon he found himself quickening the pace. But she was there with him and he could recognize the signs of her beckoning climax.
As her breathing grew heavier and she pressed her nails into his back, he started hurtling toward the point of no return, praying she would reach heaven before him. They continued their pace, driving into each other, sharing their bodies, just as their souls were trying to meet. Suddenly, she cried out and the muscles of her passage clamped around him. It was all he needed – more than he needed – to let go. He was barely able to withdraw in time, as he experienced a climax more powerful than any he’d ever had before. He was connected to Vanessa in the most elemental way and they clung to each other as they hit the peak they’d been searching for.
Moments later, he came back to reality, lying on top of her, still gasping for air. He looked down into eyes that were sparkling, a sated smile on her lips. He suspected he looked similarly pleasured. He couldn’t recall ever feeling that exhausted, that much at peace with the world. As he lifted off her, she moved over to give him some room. But as soon as he rolled onto his back, he pulled her into his arms. They fit together as a part of him always knew they would. She was there, safe in his arms. He also knew she was secure in his heart. There were so many reasons why a match between them would not work. But no excuse felt as true as the feeling of her in his arms. At that moment. And forever.
As Vanessa lay with her head on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart, she wondered how it had come to that. Why had she taken a lover after all that time? She’d had several offers through the years, some more honest than others, even if none of them had been particularly honorable. No good could come of a relationship with Arthur. Marriage was certainly out of the question. She didn’t think he would simply sleep with her for the length of their mission, then wish her a nice life once they reached London again. No doubt he would offer to make her his mistress, set her up in a house and pay her a salary. He seemed awfully set on keeping her from danger, so it made sense that he would do what he could to provide an alternate living for her that didn’t expose her to villains on a regular basis. But, lying as she was in the circle of his arms, she realized nothing could be as dangerous as falling in love with Arthur. And she knew she would if she shared his bed much longer.
At that disturbing thought, she tried to get up, only to find his arms were locked around her. “Get some rest, sweeting. I suspect we have a full, trying day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“But what if Newcastle were to come in here tonight, or one of his henchmen? Surely we don’t want the disadvantage of being unclothed.” And surely she could not spend the entire night wrapped in his arms so intimately and not long to stay there forever
Arthur thought about it for a moment, then reluctantly agreed. “As much as I don’t want either of us to move from this position, I would have to kill Newcastle if he saw you unclothed. I suggest we get dressed, then go back to my chamber.” He kissed her, then with great reluctance got up and began dressing.
Moments later, they were inching through the corridors in the dark, after Arthur picked the lock to the treasure room door. He was carrying the broadsword, looking so much like a medieval knight Vanessa had to smile. She cradled the chalice in her arms. They met no servants as they made their way to the guest rooms, but when they reached Arthur’s chamber, Vanessa refused to go in.
“But Newcastle may very well go back to your room,” cautioned Arthur. “You’ll be safe in my arms, here.”
Vanessa had no doubt she’d be safe from Newcastle, but her heart would be very much at risk. “I will not live in fear Arthur. Besides, I can take care of myself. After all, I already fought him off once today. I doubt his ego will risk being defeated a second time. But thank you for a lovely evening, my lord.”
With that, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek, then turned and walked down the corridor to her room.
Arthur couldn’t believe it. She’d kissed his cheek. His cheek! Like she was a maiden aunt and he a lad in short pants. His eyes narrowed as he watched her walk down the hall. He’d had plans for the rest of the night. And not one of them had involved kissing anything as innocent as a cheek. And he’d be damned if he risked Newcastle trying to assault her again. He entered his chamber, grabbed both of the pistols he’d taken from her saddlebags, then carried them and the damned sword down the hall.
A quick pick of the lock let him into her sitting room. He quietly opened her bed chamber door to assure himself she was safely inside. She was. And already in bed. For a moment, he weighed entering her chamber and persuading her to spend the night in more pleasurable pursuits. But in the end, he left the door ajar – the better to hear her if she needed help, then made himself as comfortable as possible on the settee, which was too short for him. He groaned as he thought of the night ahead. He wished he could be holding her to his chest as he fell into a sated slumber.
Next time. Because there had to be a next time.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Arthur woke as the first rays of sunshine streamed into the sitting room. He was immediately aware of the ache in his neck from sleeping in such an awkward position. But that was far from his primary concern. He rose, rubbed his neck, then looked in on Vanessa.
She was still asleep, her fiery hair spread across the pillows. She looked so peaceful in sleep, the angelic side to the warrior he knew her to be. He smiled as he thought of the previous night, as she’d carried that sword into the bowels of the castle to rescue him. And he had no doubt that she would’ve bested any man who got in her way.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her and continue the journey they’d begun in the treasure room. He would kiss her awake, ready her with his fingers, then slide into her as she welcomed him home.
Home. He’d be damned. But she really had felt like home.
As if reading his thoughts, she slowly awakened. She looked around the room with bleary eyes, then saw him. The smile she gave him was brilliant. He started toward her, but was stopped by the sound of rigorous knocking on the castle’s main doors, which echoed up the stairs. The two of them looked at each other, unsure of who would be trying to gain entry to the duke’s house with such vehemence. Surely Mortimer and Cassidy wouldn’t announce themselves in such a way. But Vanessa flew out of bed and put
on a dressing gown, as Arthur picked up his pistols once again.
They hurried through the corridors, then down the stairs to the great hall. The hastily dressed butler answered the door, as a few servants were preparing the house for another day. The butler blocked their view, so they couldn’t see who was calling. Finally, they got a clear look at the man, then Vanessa fairly jumped up and down with excitement. “Lawrence!” she said, as she descended the staircase and fairly flew to his side.
For his part, this “Lawrence” was obviously quite happy to see her, as well, as they embraced. Arthur’s brows lowered as he noticed the unwanted Lawrence moving one of his hands down her back toward her lovely bottom. Arthur wanted to remove his hand from her person immediately. A punch to the jaw would not go amiss.
“Lawrence!” said Vanessa, as she hugged him again, then allowed herself to be held slightly longer than Arthur thought was proper. “How did you find us?”
“Dumbarton, of course. But had I known I would have this warm of a reception I would’ve arrived sooner.” The interloper Lawrence released his hold on Vanessa – but only to arm’s length – then looked her up and down, quite obviously liking what he saw. “You seem well, especially considering you’ve had to spend time with one of the most rakish lords in London. I know how you despise the peerage, after all.”
“Yes, well,” said Vanessa hastily, as she pulled back and motioned for Arthur to join them, “I may have been a bit too inflexible in my beliefs. Lord Arthur Kellington, may I introduce you to Sir Lawrence Eck? Sir Lawrence is a fellow agent at the Home Office.”
Arthur studied the man before him. Sir Lawrence looked to be slightly younger than he and, Arthur gleefully noted, almost half a head shorter. He had sandy blonde hair and the build of someone accustomed to a great deal of exercise. Or padding from his tailor. Unfortunately, Arthur mused, it wasn’t from the tailor.
Sir Lawrence was dressed in riding clothes so fashionable they wouldn’t look out of place in Mayfair. He most definitely wasn’t wearing the male version of Vanessa’s sensible gowns that she felt were so fitting for her profession.
Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) Page 15