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Genie’s Scandalous Spinster’s Society

Page 20

by Charlotte Stone


  He sat up and shrugged out of the coat, his large body looming over hers, his gaze fixed. “You’re not marrying him, Evie. We’re running to Gretna Green tomorrow.”

  She leaned forward and set her hands to the task of undoing his breeches.

  He threw his jacket on the floor and grabbed her hands.

  She looked up at him, waiting.

  “Will you marry me?”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she turned away, fearing he would shake her resolve. She couldn’t have him. She couldn’t marry him. She wouldn’t let Prince die. She wouldn’t allow Francis to live in poverty or force him to leave his country and birthright.

  He cupped her face and lifted her head to look at him. “Evie, I’m not letting you go. We’ll find a way.”

  “There is no other way,” Genie whispered. “He’ll kill your horse.”

  “You’ll kill me if you refuse.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “Kiss me.” She grabbed the back of his neck and urged him down.

  “No, Evie, listen to me,” He tried to fight her pull.

  ‘I need you inside me, Francis.”

  His eyes blazed.

  She leaned up and stole his mouth. His hands gripped the material of her night-rail and slid it up her body. At the touch of his fingers on her mound, she gasped and clung to his broad shoulders as she sought to take pleasure from his fingers. He inserted two inside her and worked her into a quick, spine-curling orgasm.

  Then his mouth joined his hand, sucking while he pumped his fingers in and out, stoking a fire of need deep inside her. She gripped his hair, keeping them there, and threw her head back as she came apart again, screaming his name.

  He carried her over to the bed and sat her on the edge. They finished undressing and then they started kissing. Their hands explored each other. She wrapped her hand around his erection and stroked him, pulling his cock upward between their bodies. He bit her lower lip and began to pump himself in her hands, her member pulsing in her palm, her fingers slick with his secretions.

  Her hand slipped as he picked her up and lowered her down in his swollen erection, allowing it to fill her. She placed her hands on his arms, he gripped her hips, and made frenzied love to her in the middle of the floor, driving deep and right where she needed him most. She screamed and moaned as he impaled her and locked her legs around him, throwing her body down when he went up.

  He gave a shout, grabbed her arse and held her as she came, sending her over the edge with him

  They crumpled in a heap of sweat and exhausted limbs.

  Genie lay over him and could hear his uneven breathing matching her own. As her body cooled, she shivered and moved closer to him. He reached out, pulled the sheet from the bed, and laid it over them.

  They’d not made it to the bed but Genie had never felt more comfortable than she did at that moment.

  His hand smoothed her hair back as she spoke. “For a long time, I thought nothing felt better than crossing the finish on Prince but this is so much better.”

  She smiled and was then startled when the house shook with the thud of something heavy falling to the ground. The wooden floors trembled underneath them and sent everything in the house rattling before it happened again. She heard the distant sounds of glass breaking just before Francis picked her up and placed her on the bed.

  “Stay here.” He pulled on his breeches and left the room.

  Genie clung to the headboard as the ground shook again. It was only then she remembered the reason for what seemed like a supernatural event.

  Francis returned to the room and frowned. “It seems the trees have fallen. I didn’t think the storm was blowing that hard but apparently it is.”

  Genie smiled. “Oh?”

  He sighed and went for his shirt. “Yes, and they’re blocking the doors. We’ll never get out of here unless they are moved.”

  “They’ll be moved a week from now.”

  He paused putting on his shirt and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s Lorena. She and the sisters planned to lock us in here for a week. I’d completely forgotten about it until this very moment.”

  Francis stared at her. “We’re locked in here for a week?”

  Genie nodded. “They even made sure that the local men were paid well to make themselves too busy to move logs if Lord Buckley demanded it. The closest city from here is two hours to Cort and those men are busy as well.”

  Francis smiled. “What a thoroughly thought out plan.” He dropped his shirt, stripped from his breeches, and climbed into the bed alongside her. “Whatever will we do with an entire week to ourselves?” He kissed her.

  Genie whispered, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

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  It was hours later that Francis woke to find Genie sucking him and causing him to grow under her masterful mouth.

  He gasped. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you’d done this before me.”

  She laughed against him, her teeth grazing and sending new sensations through his body. He gripped the sheets and tried to slow his breathing.

  “Oh, did you like that?” She did it again, running her tongue up his erection before sinking her mouth over him and slowly lifting, the kiss of her teeth heightening his arousal. His entire body shivered and then she sank low again, taking more of him than previously. He felt himself at the back of her throat and fisted her hair, bringing her away.

  He made love to her twice before they fell back against the bed, fully satisfied.

  The storm was still alive outside and he listened to its soothing rhythm as his thoughts wandered. “I believe I should make it known that I must prefer waking up this way as opposed to flowers.”

  She laughed and snuggled closer to him. The wind blew and he didn’t hear the scraping of branches anymore since the trees were down. Their being cut gave him more time to convince Genie of his plan for them.

  “Is it the thought of being poor that bothers you?” he asked in the same bold manner he was so used to her using. “Is that why you won’t marry me? Because I’ll not be able to afford you?”

  She lifted herself up on an elbow and glared down at him. “You know very well that it is not the reason. How dare you ask me that?”

  He touched her cheek. “Because you’re so used to having everything you want. As my wife, our resources would be very limited. I’m not sure you could handle that.”

  “I could if I had your love.”

  “But what would happen when you grew angry with me? When we had disagreements?” he asked. “Would you find another man who could afford you?”

  Her eyes softened. “Did someone you know do this?”

  “Apparently, my mother had offers that she never accepted.”

  Genie frowned. “Do you think one of those offers came from my father?”

  “It’s a possibility and would be a good reason to run my family into the poorhouse.”

  Genie placed her hands on his cheeks. “We’ve done nothing but disagree since I first told you I love you. I believe it obvious that I would always choose you.”

  He smiled. “Perhaps.”

  She glared again. “Well, there’s no way I can prove it unless we marry.”

  He sat up, taking her with him, and wrapped his arms around her. “We could try in this very house.”

  She looked around before returning her eyes to him. “How?”

  Francis tightened his hold. “There are times in my past when my family went through periods of poverty that you are not aware of, days where there was scarcely anything to eat, when there was not a servant to wait on us, and no wood for the fires until the money from the crops came in. Lorena was either too young to remember those days or she’s simply choosing not to.”

&nbs
p; Genie locked her arms around his waist. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, we stopped having those days when my father invested in sheep and found a way to make our land more useful.”

  “I’d go through anything with you,” she told him. “I’d go through anything for you.”

  He kissed her and rose. He walked across the room, grabbed a wash basin and threw the water over the fire. Then he went to the lamp and shut it off.

  The room was immediately plunged into darkness. He made his way back over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Genie. The storm seemed to be louder with the absence of light. He wrapped the blanket around them and snuggled close to her.

  “It will be cold,” she told him quietly as though not to disturb the dark.

  “I know.” He wrapped his arms around her back. “We’ll use each other for heat.”

  She rested her head on his chest and he felt the warmth of her breath brush his chest. “Imagine having to do this while we were angry.”

  “I would imagine that even the angriest of couples couldn’t stay mad long in this position.”

  He felt her grin. “You’re probably right. Perhaps that is the reason your parents were not like the rest of the ton, why they managed to stay in love. They had little else.”

  He ran his hand over her hair as he blinked in the dark. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

  The temperature’s descent became evident in a matter of minutes. They’d entered November and it would only be a matter of weeks until the snow came.

  He listened to Genie’s quiet breathing and said, “It’s getting cold. Perhaps I should light the fires again.”

  “No, we’ll manage.”

  He grinned and wrapped his arms around here further before flipping them over. Then he moved down and settled over her belly. “I’ll cover you tonight.”

  He heard the smile in her voice. “What a wonderful man you are.”

  He kissed her stomach. “Anything for you.”

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

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  Genie and Francis were huddled under a blanket two days later, a small portion of bread on a plate before them. Francis had been rationing out the food since Genie agreed to his plan that forced her to prove she was capable of withstanding anything with him.

  They were by a small fire downstairs, the same fire they used to heat whatever water they needed throughout the day. They’d tried taking their meals properly in the dining room but Genie’s shivering had forced them closer to the flames.

  The rain had turned to snow and the day was white. With the trees taken down, light spilled into the house in a way that Genie was sure it never had before. She could see her breath with every blow of air, the white cloud the only movement in the room.

  They’d made love more times than she could count and kept each other entertained with stories from their past. They’d not broached the subject of their future, but Genie admitted that Francis was winning the fight with every touch, every slow burning caress, every whisper.

  As she’d expected, Archie had come by to see how she was faring yesterday and had seemed distraught that the trees had fallen, most of his anger resting on the fact that he could not get in rather than her being unable to get out. He left promising to get someone out to her home immediately. She’d not heard from him since.

  She braced as her body began to tremble again and Francis sighed.

  “That’s it. I’m lighting the fires in the house.”

  “No.” She placed her hands on his thigh to still him. “I can survive this.” Though she couldn’t feel her toes or lips at the moment. “I’m fine.” Her voice trembled as she shook again.

  Francis stood, dropped the blanket around her, and kissed her head. “I’ll be back. You stay here.”

  She turned and watched him walk across the room to the side table. “I’m perfectly f-fine.”

  He looked over at her and grinned. “I know, dear. It’s me who can’t stand the suffering any longer.”

  “What do you m-mean?” She pulled the blanket tighter and scooted as close to the flames as she could get without allowing them to burn her. “You seem perfectly capable of withstanding the cold.”

  He opened a drawer and turned back to his task. “I am. It’s you who is having difficulties and so long as you suffer, I’ll never feel right.” He closed the door and moved to another small table in the room. “Do you know where your grandmother kept her tinderbox?”

  Genie smiled as she watched him. “Yes. I mean, no.”

  He straightened and looked at her. “Yes? No? What is it?”

  She pushed herself onto her unsteady legs and held his eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you. No, I don’t know where the tinderbox is.”

  He went to her immediately and held her close. “I’ll be the best husband I know how to be.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “And I just realized I couldn’t give up on us now. No matter what, we shall remain together.”

  He kissed her cold mouth and frowned. “I’ll go look for the tinderbox.” He walked away.

  “If could be in the servants’ room,” she suggested as he left the room.

  Genie sat back by the fire and allowed herself to feel some pain at the thought of Prince’s death. There would be a hole in Francis’ heart when the beast was put down. She’d have to work hard to fill it even if he was in denial of how great a loss the horse would be for him.

  Francis returned and she noticed he did not hold a box in his hands but a series of letters. His face was set in a grimace as he read the words.

  “What’s the matter?” Genie stood once more and went over to stand by him.

  He lowered one of the letters so she could read it. She immediately saw her father’s handwriting on one and a feminine hand on the other. At the bottom, she spotted her grandmother’s signature.

  She grabbed the letter and read from the top. “It’s about my mother. It says my grandmother forced my father to marry her because of her religion.” She looked at Francis. “Apparently, my grandmother thought my mother capable of saving his soul.”

  Francis was still glaring at another letter.

  “What does it say?” She moved closer to him.

  Francis moved to the couch, taking a heavy seat and an equally heavy breath, white fog escaping his lips. He rested an elbow on his knee and continued to read the letter. “Your grandmother knew your father was setting out to scheme against mine. She calls him covetous for wanting my mother and saw it as his downfall. The letter includes the name of the men who helped him in his plotting; the accusations go back for years.” He looked at her. “He was my father’s best friend. He had everything and still wanted more.”

  Genie took a seat by him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry my father did this to you.” And she’d lived off the ruin of the family of her best friend and the man she loved.

  He stared at her. “With this letter, Hugh will have a better way of finding the men.” Then he laughed and looked down at the list again. “I met the last one mentioned.” He stood. “I have to go.”

  Genie stood as well. “Where?”

  “To London. I need to know what this all means.” He touched her cheek. “Go get dressed. It will be too cold for you to stay here alone.”

  “But there’s no way out,” Genie told him.

  “There’s an ax in the empty pot in the kitchen. I’m going to break the door down.”

  Genie felt the first rush of warmth that morning but sadly it came at the expense of embarrassment. “Oh, yes, I forgot to hide that before you went to the kitchen.”

  He chuckled and moved to leave.

  She grabbed his arm.

  He turned back to her and met her eyes, his still pensive.

  “I’m sorry, Francis.”

  He ki
ssed her. “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her again and she let him go.

  The door was down in seconds and then they were set on Aunt Tilda’s house. Once there, Francis kissed Genie goodbye once more and tried leaving her the necklace.

  “No, take it with you.” She kissed him and watched him leave, setting off on for Morris’ estate before ultimately heading for London.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

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  Three Weeks Later

  Francis, Morris, Frank, Hugh, Rollo, Gilbert Aims, and Allen Blackfall were shown into the Mr. Ellerey’s office, bowed, introduced themselves, and took seats.

  Rollo turned to Mr. Jackson and said, “You might as well stay for this as well.”

  Mr. Jackson had been the one to escort them in and hesitated before he closed the door behind him.

  Mr. Ellerey looked concerned, turning his eyes to Francis. “When you said you wished to meet with me, you never mentioned that you would be bringing so many men with you. Should I ring for my solicitor as well?”

  “That would be strongly advised,” Francis said evenly, holding back the anger boiling in his gut.

  Ellerey instructed Mr. Jackson to ring for a Mr. Roy and the party waited until the man’s solicitor was brought up from one of the downstairs offices.

  Francis began. “Has your company ever been called Gold Coast Traders?”

  “No.” Ellerey frowned.

 

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