A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4)

by Ava Stone

  “You use soap and water,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, grinning at her.

  Cordie blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You asked what I wanted. You’re supposed to bathe me, remember? Use soap and water.” He released his hold on her and sunk into the tub. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, my dear, could you place all our clothes in the hallway? The innkeeper said he’d have them washed and pressed for us.”

  Collecting their clothes was the perfect distraction, and Cordie set to the task immediately. However, they had very few articles and the chore was soon finished. She chanced a glance at her husband, eyeing her from the tub. He smiled at her and held up the bar of soap in his hand. An invitation.

  Cordie swallowed nervously, but gathered her courage and crossed the floor towards him. “You do realize, Brendan, once we return home, someone else will have to play the part of your valet. I’m not going to make a habit of collecting your clothes or pulling off your boots or…bathing you after this.”

  His deep chuckle instantly disarmed her. “You may like bathing me.”

  She dropped to her knees beside the tub and reached for the soap in his hands. His fingers closed around hers, and his gaze caught her before he released his hold. Cordie took a steadying breath and dipped the soap into the surprisingly warm water. She worked up a slippery lather, and gingerly touched her fingertips to Brendan’s chest. His muscles contracted and she pressed her hand against the firm ridge, skin to skin. A ripple of desire spread through her and her eyes flashed to his. Dark, intense with emotion.

  “If you don’t want me to smell like horses, my dear, you’re going to have to do better than that.” He guided her hands with his own, up and down the panels of his chest, sloshing soap and water everywhere. Brendan’s golden hair tickled her fingers and sent hot flashes to her core. Touching his bare skin, learning the feel of his body, made her very aware of his strength and power—and how very much she wanted him.

  “Use the pitcher for my hair, if you don’t mind,” he said, breaking into her musings.

  Cordie stood and retrieved a porcelain pitcher from the washstand, hoping to gain some sort of control in the process. When she turned back to Brendan, his eyes were still focused on her, pupils dilated with potent desire. An answering response hardened her sensitive nipples.

  The overwhelming need to tell him of her heart washed over Cordie. She knelt beside him again, and filled the pitcher with bath water. “Close your eyes,” she whispered. When he complied, she poured the water over his golden hair and rose higher on her knees to run the soap though his locks. “Brendan,” she began as she ran her fingers through his hair, glad his eyes were closed. This would be much easier to say if he wasn’t looking at her. “I should have told you this already, and I feel awful I haven’t done so before now…”

  He said nothing, but furrowed his brow.

  “It’s just that when you told me,” she said quickly, hoping to relieve the look of concern on his face, “I was so surprised, I couldn’t really think, which is not an excuse, I know.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She refilled the pitcher with water and rinsed the soap from his hair. “But the truth of the matter is, I’ve felt this way for quite a while, even when I didn’t want to, even when I tried not to.”

  She blotted a towel against his eyes, and he opened them, piercing her with his stare. “What are you trying to say, Cordie?”

  “I—” she gulped, then continued with a whisper, “Brendan, I love you.”

  In the blink of an eye, he’d hauled her into the tub with him. She didn’t even have time to gasp at being soaked completely though, as he crushed his lips to hers. His hands were everywhere, cradling her bottom, caressing her back, pulling at the buttons on her nightrail. All the while, his lips never left hers. Water sloshed to the floor at regular intervals and the groans from her husband became more desperate.

  Finally, he pulled his head back and stared at her with relief. “Thank God.” His wet hand cupped her cheek, sending warmth shooting through her body. “You don’t know how badly I needed to hear that.”

  Cordie kissed his palm, then snuggled against his chest. When Brendan’s arms wrapped around her, she smiled. This was everything she wanted in life. “Was it quite necessary to drag me in here with you?” She touched her lips to his chest, reveling in the intimacy as he stroked her hair.

  “Um,” he answered. “It seemed the thing to do at the time.”

  She giggled and rejoiced when he laughed along with her, knowing she would never forget this moment as long as she lived. Cordie rested her hand on his chest and looked up into his dark blue eyes. “I don’t suppose you have another set of dry clothes for me to wear?”

  A smile tugged at his lips as he shook his head. “But I’m certain I can keep you warm enough.”

  He lifted her in his arms and stood up in the tub, water dripping in rivulets down them both. He stepped out of the bath, and crossed the floor towards their bed. “Let’s get you out of this, shall we?”

  Back on her own feet, Cordie sucked in a surprised breath when Brendan’s hands returned to the buttons of her nightrail.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he told her, as he peeled the wet material from her body, letting it pool at their feet. “I’ll be careful with you.”

  The cool air hit her body, and her nipples hardened into tight peaks. She was mortified that Brendan noticed this too, then his warm, wet hands gently caressed her breasts, pushed against her nipples, and Cordie thought she’d expire on the spot. The silky smoothness of his fingers on her bare skin was the most intense, exhilarating sensation she’d ever experienced.

  His lips captured hers and Cordie couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure from escaping when Brendan licked at her nipples, slid his hands around to cup her bottom, and massaged the muscles into taut awareness. Moist heat pooled between her legs, and that part of him prodded against her belly. He licked her lips. “I have needed you for so long.”

  Cordie sighed when he pressed her down onto the mattress beneath him. She stared up into his twilight eyes and swallowed. “Please,” she said, when he only looked at her. Shouldn’t he be doing something?

  Brendan nuzzled her neck, and let his fingers trail down her side. “I don’t want to rush, and I need to make sure you’re ready for me, love.”

  Ready for him? She’d been ready for him for the last month. Denying it, hiding from it, wishing it away. But now… Now there was no reason not to…

  His warm hand caressed her belly, then slid lower. Cordie held her breath. What was he doing? Then Brendan’s mouth covered one of her nipples and he gently sucked, nipped, and then sucked again. The rhythm was her undoing. “Brendan,” she gasped, unconsciously grasping his still wet hair.

  A finger trailed through her springy hair and his palm cupped her mound. She tightened instantlysucked in a breath as his finger probed her folds, nudged at her entrance, then slowly pressed inside. She tightened instantly, but relaxed and when he suckled her breast.

  Brendan’s finger nudged at her entrance, and then slowly pressed forward. Cordie closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of him inside her. Rhythmically, he pressed in and out of her, over and over, until Cordie was writhing beneath him. It was like nothing she’d ever imagined. Then his thumb brushed against something, and she lost complete control. Screaming her husband’s name, release engulfed her. Her legs fell open, limp. She struggled to catch her breath.

  Brendan’s hand left her, moving slowly up her belly, trailing fire wherever he touched. He shifted his position, urging her legs wider, kneeling before her. His lips found hers, and he devoured her, tangling his tongue with hers, marking her as his. “Dear God, I love you,” he whispered fervently.

  He nudged again at her entrance, this time with something much larger than his finger and Cordie’s eyes widened in surprise. Brendan kissed them closed, used his tongue to open her lips, stroke the moist softness of her mouth. He cuppe
d her bottom, raised her slightly off the bed, and slowly, gently pushed into her. She sucked in a breath.

  His handsome face looked strained as he pushed forward, and she sucked in a breath. She’d never imagined it would feel like this. Strange, exhilarating, urgent, all rolled into one. She wriggled against him, wanting him deeper, and he gasped. “For God’s sake, Cordie. I’m trying to go slowly.”

  “Please, don’t,” she begged. “You’re torturing me.”

  He choked on a laugh. “I think it’s the other way ‘round, my love.” But he pressed himself deeper and groaned, his fingers digging into her skin.

  Then he took a deep breath. “Please remember that I love you.”

  Cordie beamed at him. She could never forget that, no matter how many years she—

  Brendan thrust forward, and she sucked in a breath, startled by the slight pain.

  “Oh!”

  He looked at once remorseful. “I’m so sorry.”

  But the pain was already ebbing, and she touched his cheek, hating to see his mournful expression. “I’m fine. But if you don’t continue, I think I shall expire from want.”

  Relief washed across his face. “Thank God.”

  He moved deeper inside her, until it was impossible to determine where he ended and she began. Then he pulled out, only to thrust back inside. Over and over he did this, holding her in place with his hands, while strangled need coursed through her veins. Cordie writhed, wanting him closer, wanting him deeper, until he started to rock against that sensitive spot and all the stars in the sky fell from their celestial homes, crashing down on her.

  “Oh, Cordie!” her husband growled, thrusting deep, one last time. It felt as if lava gushed inside her.

  Brendan released his hold on her and collapsed at her side, holding her tightly in his arms. “My darling wife, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.”

  Sated and exhausted, Cordie snuggled in his embrace, resting her head on his chest. “Ummm, never,” she whispered dreamily.

  ~ 27 ~

  With early morning light streaming through the windows, Brendan slowly awoke. His wife was nestled against him, her soft breath tickling the hair on his chest. Last night had been the most amazing of his life. For the first time in so long, he was optimistic about the future.

  He was desperately in love with his bride, and her with him—something he hadn’t even dared hope for. Their marriage would secure his mother’s letters, freeing him from the nightmare he’d been living for too many years.

  Cordie stirred in his arms and he glanced again at her beautiful face. Her pert little nose was scrunched up and her hand fluttered toward her eyes. The morning light glinted off the golden band on her finger and his heart swelled with pride. Though this was not the route he would have preferred to take to the altar, or anvil as the case may be, he’d do it all over again.

  Cordie’s cold foot slid up his leg and his eyes flashed to her face, to find a teasing smile on her lips. “Good morning, husband.”

  He grinned back, still amazed at his luck that this goddess would warm his bed until the end of time. “Ah, my beautiful wife,” he said, rolling Cordie to her back. “Are you sore, darling?” he asked, kissing her collarbone as his hand teased a nipple.

  “A little,” she admitted. “Though it was well worth it.” An innocent blush colored her cheeks as she ran her fingers over his chest. “Must we leave, Brendan? Can’t we just stay here forever?”

  In other words, not back to their lives or the real world they’d left behind. He rose up on his arms and softly claimed her mouth, caressing her cheek. He’d do anything to make her happy, but they couldn’t stay here. “This from the woman who told me yesterday she had no intention of playing my valet? How would we go on here, sweetheart?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Well, not here then. But, well, I’m just not ready to give you up.”

  He wasn’t all that anxious to return to London, either. Now that she was his wife, there was no pressing need for the letters. Her family would certainly hand them over. They didn’t need to rush back for them. “Cordie, instead of heading for London, why don’t we go to Bayhurst Court instead? I’m anxious for you to meet Thomas and Rose, for you to see my home—our home.”

  She smiled brightly, making his heart leap. “I would like that very much. Besides, I don’t think I could take another long coach ride anyway for a while. My bottom will be bruised for months as it is.”

  “Indeed?” he asked with a grin. “Let me see.”

  Mortified, she pushed away from him. “I beg your pardon?”

  Life with her would never be dull. Brendan tugged her back into his arms. “Now be a dutiful wife and let me see your bottom.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  He kissed her, deeply, relishing the taste of her lips and the warmth of her mouth. Cordie’s fingers danced through his hair, and he groaned, wishing madly that she hadn’t admitted to being sore. It would be so nice to take her again. With strength, he didn’t know he possessed, Brendan pulled out of his wife’s hold, smiled rakishly, and flipped her onto her belly.

  She wriggled away, trying to escape him, however she was laughing too hard to do so. Although Brendan had only meant to run his hands over her backside and tickle her, the number of healed scars all across her back stopped him short.

  It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

  “Dear God,” he muttered, tentatively tracing one of the longer scars with his forefinger.

  Her laughter gone, Cordie looked over her shoulder, panic etched across her brow. “Is it worse than I thought?”

  Brendan glanced briefly at her bottom. Though he didn’t see any bruising, there appeared to be scars there too. “Who did this to you?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, scrambling out of his grasp and covering herself with the counterpane.

  Fear flashed in her eyes, and he was certain his heart stopped. “You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been injured. Many times.” Some scars were older than others. She hadn’t acquired them in a carriage accident or something similar. They’d cover her entire body if that were the case.

  Cordie’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Please.”

  “Please what?” he nearly roared, but he tried to maintain his anger and it came out more as a hiss. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?” He was going to kill whoever it was. That anyone would hurt his darling wife, so full of spirit and life, made his jaw clench and his muscles tense.

  She heaved a sigh and shrugged. “My mother’s always found me to be a bit willful, and…” Her voice trailed off.

  Her mother? For the love of God! She was one of the few people he couldn’t kill. A man, he could call out. But a woman? His mother-in-law? As fury and rage faded into despair, Brendan hauled his wife back into his arms, holding her tightly to him. “Cordie my love, no one will ever hurt you again!” he vowed hoarsely.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed his cheek. “Brendan, I’m all right.”

  He would see to it that she was better than all right the rest of their days. It was good they’d already decided on Bayhurst Court. He would need time to adjust to this revelation, and somehow he’d have to find the strength to behave civilly to Lady Avery. He wasn’t certain how much time that would take.

  ***

  Cordie struggled to get a brush through her hair. A bird’s nest was an apt description. This is what happened when one went to bed with wet hair and participated in vigorous activities. The memory of those activities, however, was like a dream come true, so she couldn’t really complain. She could, in the future, make sure her hair was braided before indulging again. This was awful, especially without a maid. She winced, trying to untangle a knot on the side of her head. It was going to take forever.

  The door opened to their room and she looked over her shoulder, embarrassed when she saw the confused expression on Brendan’s face. She must look a mess.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.


  Cordie pursed her lips. “I’m just having a bit of trouble with my hair, but I’ll be done soon.”

  He stepped forward and put out his hand. “Give me the brush.”

  “I can manage on my own.”

  “You’re making it worse, love. And I do so love your hair. I’d hate for you to be bald. Besides, you played my valet yesterday, let me play your maid.”

  Cordie bit her lip, looking up at him. This didn’t fall under normal husbands’ duties, did it? She couldn’t imagine Kelfield doing such a thing for Livvie.

  “I have sisters, Cordie. I’ve done this a time or two.”

  She shrugged, but handed over the brush. “Just be careful and don’t tug too rough.”

  Brendan started with one side, and very gently, with the precision of a lady’s maid, untangled her hair. Her silky strands fell against her neck, and he moved to the back. “Rose loves to have her hair brushed. She’ll probably ask you to do it for her.”

  “She’ll like me, won’t she?” Cordie asked, suddenly worried how his family would view her.

  “She’ll love you,” he promised, moving the brush through her tresses with much greater ease than she had done. “Probably too much. If she makes you uncomfortable, you’ll have to let me know.”

  Cordie couldn’t imagine the stunning girl she’d only seen from afar could make her uncomfortable. Besides, she was Brendan’s sister. They’d have to find a way to make everything work. From what he’d said about Lady Rosamund, she’d be in their care until the end of time.

  Brendan finally finished with all the tangles, and then pressed his lips to her cheek. “Apparently I’ll have to be more careful with you in the future.”

  “Don’t you dare.” Cordie grinned. She didn’t want him to be careful. She didn’t want any less than what he’d given her the night before. His warm breath against her cheek sent delightful shivers racing across her skin as the memory of their wedding night flashed again in her mind.