A Gentleman's Curse: Avenging Lords - Book 4
Page 19
“You loved me once,” she whispered. “You can learn to love me again.”
“Selina,” he began. He was about to tell her that he’d never loved her, that marrying her would have ruined both their lives. He was about to tell her to get her damn hands off him when the saloon door opened and closed again.
The feminine gasp reached his ears before the gentleman’s discreet cough.
Still clutching Selina’s hand, Lockhart glanced over his shoulder to find Claudia and Valentine staring back. Water welled in Claudia’s eyes, eyes that spoke of disappointment, heartbreak and pain.
Valentine arched a brow. “Terence left the theatre a few moments ago.” His tone carried more than a hint of disapproval. “Your wife feared something had happened to you.”
Lockhart released Selina’s hand as if it burned his skin. One could not deny how it all looked. But he was innocent of any wrongdoing. Hell, he wasn’t even married and yet guilt crept through his veins like deadly poison. Excuses formed in his mind, hung on his lips, all tainted and toxic, all dripping with deceit.
“Didn’t I say she’d grown suspicious?” Selina said, offering a smug grin. As he suspected, this woman would use any means necessary to advance her position.
Goddamn!
He considered yelling in protest, dropping to his knees and begging for Claudia’s forgiveness. No doubt people were staring.
“Claudia,” he managed to say.
She held her hand up to silence him. For a second she looked ready to turn on her heels and race from the room, back to Falaura Glen. But something changed as she stepped into the light, stepped into a new role as easily as she donned a new dress.
Claudia prowled towards him, her gaze dark, predatory. She glared at Selina and whispered in a calm yet sinister voice, “Remove your hand from my husband else I shall do it for you.”
Selina grinned, the arrogant smirk fading when Claudia took another step closer.
“We share a history,” Selina said, drawing her hand around Lockhart’s neck and letting her fingers trail down his chest, “a rich, vivid history. One developed long before he met you.”
Claudia offered a mocking snort. “And we share a future, though I am not the sort of woman who grovels and begs for a man’s attention. But let us solve this problem by putting my husband’s loyalty to the test.”
Lockhart wasn’t sure what Claudia would do. A simple explanation would solve the problem and yet how would he convince her it was him speaking and not the damn actor?
His wife moved closer. “It’s time to choose, Hudson.” She came up on her tiptoes and kissed him open-mouthed on the lips. Her tongue slipped into his mouth to tease a reaction, succeeded in setting his body aflame. Regardless of the fact they were in company, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drank as if he were dying.
But he wasn’t kissing the kind, loving soul who brought him supper in the cottage. He wasn’t kissing the temptress who stripped naked to prove a point before sinking into the bathtub. He was kissing an actress, a highly skilled performer who had learned how to use lust against him.
Lockhart broke contact, knowing he had to do something real, something honest, something true. He stared into her eyes, drew on the warm feeling that flooded his chest whenever he thought of her. Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her forehead, kissed the salty taste of tears off her cheeks, kissed her mouth in the tender, affectionate way that resonated deep in the depths of his soul.
“Let me take you home,” he said with a level of devotion reserved only for her. He didn’t mean Falaura Glen or Russell Square. Home was anywhere he could take her in his arms and drift off into a peaceful slumber. “Let me show you how much I adore you, why I will always choose you.”
Claudia nodded.
He ignored Selina when he took hold of Claudia’s hand and made for the door.
He grabbed Valentine’s shoulder as he passed. “Forgive me. Please express my sincere apologies for dragging you all here this evening.”
“You do not have to apologise to your friends.” Valentine clutched Lockhart’s arm, a gesture of brotherly affection. “We’re more than familiar with the situation. If you need anything at all, advice, assistance, anything, you know where to find me. I’m sure I speak for Drake and Greystone, too.”
Lockhart smiled. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“What if I asked you to look after Claudia’s pet monkey?” he said, unable to resist an opportunity to tease the viscount.
Valentine’s lips twitched in amusement. “For you, my friend, I would of course oblige. But don’t be surprised if you return to find the creature locked in a crate on a ship bound for India.”
Chapter Eighteen
Let me take you home.
Hudson’s words replayed over in Claudia’s mind as she sat huddled next to him in the carriage. Inside, her heart still ached from the shock of seeing Selina’s hand curled around his neck, from seeing the look of desperation swimming in her eyes. The woman was a spiteful wildcat, and yet Claudia couldn’t help but pity her a little.
Let me take you home.
Home was Falaura Glen, a place of love and comfort, a place she had always cherished, and yet her heart no longer resided there. The time spent with Hudson these last few days—days that felt like months—had changed her in some inexplicable way. Falaura Glen would always be missing something—missing the enigmatic man who made her body ache and her soul soar.
The sudden realisation that she must make every second with him count forced her to wrap her arm around his waist and shuffle closer.
Hudson kissed her hair as he held her in an embrace. “I feel nothing for Selina,” he reminded her for the fifth time in as many minutes. “You do know that?”
“I do,” Claudia said with confidence as she inhaled the notes of exotic incense clinging to his clothes. What really worried her was what would happen when this was all over. But worrying wasn’t living. And had she not just decided to treasure every moment? “You haven’t forgotten we’re to visit Dr Hewlett before returning home?”
“No, I’ve not forgotten. It’s almost eight hours since we left him, so he should have some news to impart.”
Claudia prayed the doctor had something positive to say. Selfishly, she couldn’t wait to get Hudson home to Russell Square, to take him by the hand and slip into bed. Of course, she would demand he strip naked, demand he press his hard body on top of her, demand he claim her in the possessive way that brought immense pleasure.
The fire between her legs flamed with each illicit thought. Heat flooded her entire body. It took every effort not to beg him to touch her, to massage her sex, to bring relief to this addiction. She was addicted to the woody tones of his cologne, the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his skin. The rhythmical rocking of the carriage only heightened her desire.
With her mind lost in a sensual haze, she wasn’t sure what happened next.
One minute she was cupping his cheek, making him kiss her in the wicked way that drove her wild. The next, she was gathering her gown to her waist and straddling his muscular thighs.
“I need you inside me, Hudson.” Uncontrollable passion and mindless lust dragged the words from her mouth. She yanked down the blinds. “If only until we reach Berwick Street.”
Looking somewhat bewildered, yet equally excited at the prospect of joining with her, Hudson fiddled with the fall of his evening breeches and positioned himself at her entrance.
“There’s no time to pleasure you as I did in the rotunda,” he growled. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”
“Oh, I’m more than ready.” Tonight, she was a milk-maid in need of a quick tupping.
The first thrust into her body tore a moan from her lips. He was so large, so hard and hot.
“Christ, Claudia.” He grabbed hold of her hips and showed her how to move. “Ride me, love. Ride the hell out of me. Hold nothing back.”
Driven by an intense hunger unlike anything she had exp
erienced before, she sank down and sheathed his solid erection. It took a few seconds to find a rhythm, but once she did, she slid up and down his delicious length, taking him deep, deep into her body.
Hudson’s head fell back against the squab as his breathing grew ragged.
She ran her hands over his chest, grabbed his waistcoat in her fists like reins and rode hard.
“Goddamn, you’re so wet, so tight.” He raised his head. “Wait. Come up on your knees.”
She sucked in a breath and did as he asked.
Hudson took hold of his manhood and blindly rubbed the slick head back and forth over her sex. Claudia ground against him as the ache inside grew. Soon she was close to the glittering finale, the moment when her chaotic world shattered into one of sheer bliss.
“I need to be inside you when you come,” he groaned.
“Then do it now.”
He slid into her body, and she could not help but cry out with pleasure. “Hudson.”
His expert fingers continued to rub her as she came down on him harder, so hard her buttocks slapped against his thighs. She came apart panting his name, shuddering in his lap.
He tried to pull out of her body, but she couldn’t stop loving him, couldn’t stop grinding against him in a frantic rhythm.
“Claudia, stop.” Panic infused his tone. “I need to withdraw else there will be a child.”
For one foolish second, she wanted him to pump his seed inside her, wanted her stomach to swell and grow. Quickly dismissing the thought as folly, she came up on her knees again and tumbled into the seat beside him.
She watched him take hold of his glistening erection, watched him hiss a sharp breath as he pumped hard, slowing just as he spurted into his hand.
Hudson’s head fell back, and he closed his eyes. Their rapid pants filled the air in the confined space. The scent of their lovemaking teased her nostrils. It took a minute for her to drag her head out of the clouds.
“My handkerchief,” he gasped. “It’s in my pocket.”
Claudia fumbled in his pocket and removed the silk square. “Allow me,” she said, fascinated by the sheer size and strength of his manhood. She refused to give him the handkerchief and set about wiping up the evidence of their passionate encounter.
Hudson watched her intently before suddenly saying, “I don’t want this to end.”
The comment caught her unawares. “I don’t want it to end, either.” Love filled her heart. She considered telling him but what if it was sated desire talking? What if he meant nothing more than to continue their illicit affair?
Silence ensued while they set about righting their clothes. The carriage jerked to a halt as he fastened the buttons on his breeches.
“Let’s see what Dr Hewlett has to say.” Hudson folded his handkerchief and pushed it into the inside pocket of his coat. “We can talk later, once we’re alone.”
Claudia nodded, though fear crawled through her body like strangling ivy.
What if they wanted different things?
What if they felt different things?
They had no need to knock on the front door of number twenty Berwick Street. Simmonds was waiting ready to prise it gently from the jamb.
“So your mistress hasn’t thrown the doctor out?” Hudson whispered to the weary-looking butler.
“No, sir. The doctor is still upstairs.”
Hester Lockhart was one of those women who liked to voice her opinion but lacked the courage of her convictions.
“Then we won’t be long,” Hudson said, tapping the butler on the arm. “I’m sure you’re keen to retire.”
They crept upstairs, found the doctor sitting in a chair next to the bed. Light from a single candle penetrated the darkness. The room smelt of herbs yet the stench of sickness still hung in the air. Alfred Lockhart looked just as weak and pale. The bottles had disappeared from the side table, replaced with a pot of tea.
Dr Hewlett stood. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid. It seems the last few doses of laudanum were particularly potent. When he grew restless, thrashed and mumbled, I fed his dependency with a less concentrated dose.”
Hudson stepped closer to the bed. “Do you think we might wean him off it completely?”
“Yes, but it will take time and a concerted effort.” Dr Hewlett’s expression turned grave. “I do not wish to speak out of turn, but I suspect the gentleman might have an ulterior motive for keeping your father sedated.”
“You speak of the dandified fop I threw out earlier?”
“Indeed.” The doctor pursed his lips. “I do have other patients to consider but fear what will happen should I leave your father unattended.”
“I cannot see Justin staying away,” Claudia said, trying to concentrate on the conversation but she had caught Hudson’s unique scent lingering on her clothes. “The man is desperate to control what happens here.”
“Too desperate,” Hudson added. “What I cannot understand is why Terence permits it.”
Perhaps Terence was simply hoping their father would die. Perhaps he was too interested in fleecing Mrs Fanshaw, too concerned with paying his debts.
Hudson rubbed his chin and stared in thoughtful contemplation.
“I can stay for another twelve hours, until noon tomorrow,” Dr Hewlett said. “The only other option is to move your father somewhere else.”
Claudia had a sudden epiphany. “Could we not move him to Russell Square?”
“And have my family accuse me of wanting him dead? Should anything untoward happen to him, they will lay the blame at my door.”
Claudia considered the fact that Terence or Selina might threaten Hudson, might resort to blackmail. But how could they? In disposing of the body and ferrying Hudson to Portsmouth, both were guilty of aiding and abetting a supposed criminal.
“You have powerful friends,” Claudia said. Two of which had seats in the House of Lords. “I think we should move your father tonight. Dr Hewlett can attend him in Russell Square.”
Hudson arched a brow. “My mother will raise an objection.”
“Is she not asleep in bed? I doubt she’ll learn of it until morning.” Claudia shrugged. “Besides, what can she do? Dr Hewlett will testify that he considers the patient at risk if he remains here.”
“If asked, that would be my expert opinion,” the doctor agreed.
Hudson paced back and forth for a moment before saying with some determination, “You’re right. We will move him to Russell Square. Should my mother dismiss Simmonds for assisting a heathen, I shall offer him employment.” He turned to the doctor. “But I must question if my father is well enough to be moved.”
“In the interests of the patient’s safety, I fear there is no other option.”
Hudson nodded. “Then I’ll fetch Simmonds to assist us.”
They didn’t need Simmonds’ help or that of the doctor. Alfred Lockhart was so frail and thin, Hudson was able to carry him in his arms and place him in the carriage. Simmonds brought blankets and packed a small valise.
As they crammed into Hudson’s conveyance, Simmonds loitered at the carriage window. “Your offer, sir, to come and work in your household should the mistress turf me out without references. I wonder if I might join your staff regardless.”
The poor man shuffled nervously while awaiting an answer. How he had the strength and patience to serve Hester Lockhart, one would never know.
“Climb in, Simmonds,” Hudson said, sporting a huge grin. “I’m sure we can make room for one more.”
Chapter Nineteen
With his father settled into a bedchamber, and an extra bed moved into the room for Dr Hewlett, Lockhart advised his staff of the current arrangements and then went in search of Claudia. He was both disappointed and relieved not to have found her in the master bedchamber.
Despite a desperate need to sleep, his hunger for her could not be abated. Never had he known such an all-consuming desire. Never had he met a woman capable of hugging his heart while she hugged his cock.
But his admiration for her ran deeper than these lustful urges.
I don’t want this to end.
He’d meant every word he’d said in the carriage. This love affair meant more to him than clearing his name. If she would agree to board the next ship to India, he would leave with her in a heartbeat. But she had problems at Falaura Glen, a sister to consider. He’d come home to find a murdering blackguard, and with suspicions regarding his father’s illness, he had no option but to sort out this damnable mess.
“I expected to find you asleep,” he said, stumbling upon her sitting in a chair in the drawing room.
A smile touched her lips. “I’m so tired I could sleep for a week, but I cannot stop thinking.” She snatched the glass from the side table, swallowed the amber liquid and placed the vessel back on the table.
“Thinking about what?” Was it their current predicament or her feelings for him that kept her awake?
She shrugged. “About everything. Your father’s illness, Emily, those scoundrels who call themselves your family—” She stopped abruptly, yet he suspected the list was endless. “Do you think Justin and Selina will come banging on your door?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Will you let them in?”
“Definitely not. Not until I’ve spoken to Terence and discovered what the hell is going on.”
Claudia pushed out of the chair. “Then we should get some rest. Lord knows what dilemmas we’ll face tomorrow.”
She looked tired, weary. Then again, an hour before she had ravaged him senseless in a moving carriage.
A smile touched his lips.
He loved her—was in love with her.
It wasn’t that he’d become so rooted in his role that he’d lost sight of reality. The need to be her lover and husband lived and breathed inside him.
“Do you think you might sleep in the carriage?” he said, capturing her hand as she came towards him. “If Justin and Selina come, it will be sometime after midday. There’s no telling when I’ll find the time to take you back to Falaura Glen.”