Popping her mouth off the tip, she asked worriedly, “Am I not doing it right? Did I hurt you?”
“Not doing it right? Are you quite serious?” He hooked his hands under her arms, hauled her up his body and crushed his mouth on hers. She found herself straddling him, his hands curved over her buttocks. He guided his cock to her entrance and pushed her down, burying himself completely in her tight passage.
He nudged her to sitting. “Ride me again. This time I want to watch.”
Thighs tensing, she rose and fell on him, his cock burrowing impossibly deep. His meaning quickly became clear. Her bobbing breasts were the focus of his hands and eyes. She grazed her fingernails over his chest all the way to the coarse hair at his groin.
Her control was only a mirage. In a burst of movement, he captured a nipple in his mouth and grasped her hips with both hands. Using his superior strength, he rammed her down at a pace of his own making, rough and hard.
Her climax was no gentle washing of pleasure, but a twisting, wild river. His seed released in time to her body’s rhythmic bliss.
She collapsed to his chest, and he cuddled her close, nuzzling his lips at her temple. He circled his hips, his cock still inside of her and partially erect.
“Love, remind me to send a note of thanks around to Gilmore.” He toyed with her hair, bringing swaths to his nose to smell or absently rubbing his cheek with its softness. He seemed unaware of his actions. She closed her eyes, her body sated and her mind finally at rest.
“You need to tell me what transpired with your father on that last night.”
She twisted to lie at his side and his cock pulled free. “I hope this wasn’t an elaborate ruse to throw me off balance so you could question me.”
“I’ve never used sex to extract information, but if it works…” He waved his hand magnanimously. “I’ll encourage your secrets.”
She managed a small laugh. Scars crisscrossed his chest, some thin and white, some pink and puckered. She kissed the closest one. It was past time she unburdened herself.
“I’m sure you’ve guessed the earl was set on making a match for me.”
“I had. Father found notes about Penhaven and Humphries’ visits. How could the earl consider Algernon a suitable match for you? He’s…well, he’s an idiot. And that’s being kind.” The incredulity in Gray’s voice reflected her own when her father had told her.
“The earl made it sound as if Algernon would be doing him a favor by taking me on, as if I was an encumbrance. He hoped to marry me off before the gentleman understood my true nature.” Even after the months that had passed, the hurt from her father’s mandate stabbed painfully.
“What did he see as your true nature?”
“A fierce temper, a caustic tongue, no feminine accomplishments. The sad part is…it’s true—all of it. I don’t embroidery or paint. You’ve been on the receiving end of my temper. I’m tolerably attractive, but—”
“Stop right there.” He tilted her chin up, his face serious. “You must realize it was the earl’s bitterness talking. He lashed out at you because he never had a chance to finish things with your mother. You’re passionate, and every gentleman in the ton, myself included, can attest to your beauty and wit.”
The kiss he laid on the tip of her nose nearly undid her, but there was more to confess. “Father told me I would pick one of his choices, or he would pick for me. It was between Algernon and two others I’d never even met. Rafe had promised me a Season, but he was off on the Continent with you. I had no way of contacting him.”
“Penhaven wasn’t on the list?”
“Father didn’t mention him.”
His brow furrowed, and he pulled at his lip. “You put your father off?”
“Put him off? That’s a quaint way of saying it. I unleashed a god-awful tirade. He looked stunned. I’m not sure anyone has ever had the temerity to talk to him like that. I was…vile, cruel. It was like a dam burst.” Sitting up, she snatched the sheet to her chest and covered her mouth with her hand.
He needed to know, needed to see the rotten parts.
“I accused him of driving Mother away with his cold, loveless nature. Said I no longer hated her for leaving but hated him. I told him I was ashamed he was my father. That he may have sired me, but he was not a true father in any other way. Never had been and never would be. I wished him dead and rotting in hell.” She choked on the last words.
Drawing her knees up, she rested her forehead on the tops. The bed creaked as he positioned himself behind her, his arms bridging all the way around her legs. “Lily…have you blamed yourself all this time?”
“He expected an apology and my decision the next morning. I spent a fretful night as you can imagine. The morning dawned, and I still hadn’t decided how to handle the situation. But he had vanished during the night. No word to anyone, but his horse and satchel were gone. All I felt was relief and happiness. No remorse, no guilt. Only after the months passed did my words begin to haunt me.” Now the ugliness was out, she took a shuddering breath, preparing herself.
He didn’t push her away in disgust. Instead of accusing, his tone was thoughtful. “Interesting. At the point you left him that night, he expected to see you in the morning. What would make the earl pick up and leave in the middle of the night?” It was almost as if he were talking to himself. “A note of some sort? Delivered by whom, I wonder? And regarding what?”
“You think he was called away?”
He flopped back on the pillows, linked his hands behind his head and stared at the canopy. “Almost certainly, but not by Hawkins. By chance, did a servant leave service around the same time?”
She racked her brain. “Lud, I remember hearing Jenny Mitchell complaining her work had doubled since one of the maids left abruptly. She was a new girl…her name escapes me, but it was something terribly commonplace like Mary. We assumed she fell homesick.”
“Perhaps she did, or perhaps she left after completing her mission.”
“No one found a note.”
“Here’s another lesson. Burn all correspondence. Memorize your meetings. Having an appointment book like Gilmore possessed will haunt you. If there was a note, your father burned it immediately. He was nothing if not careful.”
“Not careful enough, it seems,” she said with a hint of irony.
“Tomorrow portends to be a long day. Let’s get some sleep.” He heaved a deep yawn.
Lily twisted. The blighter’s eyes were closed. “That’s all? You don’t think I’m a horrible, terrible daughter?”
He pried open one of his eyes. “After everything you’ve done for him over the spring? I’d say you’ve redeemed yourself several times over. He probably deserved whatever you said to him and more.” He closed his eye and held out his arm. “Now come here.”
She collapsed against him. Everything seemed brighter and lighter. “You’re going to stay?”
Already sounding asleep, he said vaguely, “For a bit.”
Settling next to him, she curved herself into his side and twined her legs with his. Her sense of time and space fuzzed as her mind drifted toward sleep. Marriage to Gray? She’d never thought to marry at all but found herself relishing the idea. What would happen when they solved this mystery? Would Hawkins send him back to France or Portugal? How could she bear it? Fusing herself to his side, she held him as if she could deny him ever moving from her side again.
Chapter Sixteen
Even after such a short amount of sleep, Gray awoke before dawn. The practice had become ingrained. He lay still, Lily’s sweet body pressed into his. Turning his face toward her, he inhaled deeply. Even though she smelled of his seed and sex, innocence left its own aromatic notes like a complicated sheet of music.
Christ, he loved her, always had in his way. She was like a vine, thorny when they were children, but changing with the seasons, finally flowering
and invading every nook with love and beauty.
Faint light pervaded the room. After carefully extracting himself from her grip, he pulled the covers to her neck to compensate for the warmth he took. Rolling away, she tucked hands under her cheek. The supple outline of her body demanded an artist’s rendering. The urge to pull up a chair and watch her sleep was strong.
If he didn’t leave now, her maid would catch him with one leg out the window. That would no doubt prove an awkward conversation with Rafe later. Speaking of, Gray needed to discuss last night’s events with him, judiciously leaving a few details out. A farfetched, outrageous theory had presented itself during his talk with Lily.
He dressed quickly, flipped the sash open and climbed onto the narrow ledge. This was getting ridiculous, especially since he would soon be knocking on the front door. After scaling down the wall with honed practice, he waited in the mews until the sun’s rays brought London to life.
Gray circled around to the front door. His wrinkled, garish clothes couldn’t be helped. The door swung open to reveal the imperious, impeccably dressed butler, Higgins.
Gray sidestepped around the man and into the entry. “Is Lord Drummond in his study?”
“Let me determine whether Lord Drummond has arisen.” Somehow, the man looked as if he perpetually sucked on a sour candy.
Gray ignored him and made for the study. A series of affronted chuffs followed him. A cursory knock preceded his entrance. He stopped short to find a small, rumpled man already holding an audience.
“Terribly sorry, Rafe. Didn’t realize you’d have company so early.”
Rafe lounged in his chair with one leg draped over the corner of the desk and tapped a finger on the burled top in a matching rhythm to the tick of the mantle clock. A slow half-minute passed.
“We’re finished for now, Davis. Keep your eyes sharp,” Rafe said, never taking his eyes off Gray.
The small man scurried toward the door, sending Gray an apologetic shrug on his way out the door. Gray took his vacated seat. “What was that about?”
“I’ve had Davis watching the house. Someday, you’re going to break your neck climbing out of windows.” Rafe’s voice was emotionless even as he looked like he wanted to finish the job.
“If it helps keep my neck intact, Lily agreed to marry me.”
“Glad I won’t have to kill you then. What happened last night?”
“We hit a definite dead end with Gilmore and Whitmire.”
“Damn. You’re positive?”
“Whitmire has been paying Gilmore to use his underground connections, but something else of interest happened last night. For one thing, Lily made an appearance.”
Rafe shook his head, his mouth pulling tight. “Did she waltz in handing out calling cards?”
“Of course not, give her some credit. Actually, as much as it pains me to say, she would make quite an operative.” Gray couldn’t keep the admiration from his voice. “I barely recognized her. Apparently, Lady Minerva Bellingham helped procure her disguise.”
Rafe ran his hands through his long dark hair. “Why am I even surprised? What was Lady Minerva thinking to send Lily into an immoral den of inequity like that completely unprotected? Lily’s never to speak to that woman again. Did Aunt Edie know of her plans?” At Gray’s nod, he continued, “I swear, every time I see her, the woman’s dozing in a remote corner. What kind of chaperone is that?”
Best not to mention who actually sent her the invitation. “I’ll let you handle Lady Minerva and Aunt Edie. Back to the evening’s events. Everything was fine until my impromptu meeting with Whitmire. I had left Lily—I know, I know.” Rafe’s sputtering heralded a deserved lecture, but Gray had already castigated himself roundly for the misstep. “She was perfectly safe until she followed a suspicious character into the alley. He vanished, but not before springing his trap. Three men were paid to rape her.”
“You found her in time?” Rafe dropped his leg and sat up straight, his voice gruff.
“I did,” he said shortly. Both of them had seen the devastating aftermath of such events. It was something Gray wished he could forget, but couldn’t.
“Did you discover the man’s identity?”
“Regretfully, I beat the leader unconscious before I had the chance to question him. Luckily, Lily stopped me from killing him. The other two men ran off.” His lack of control in the situation had been troubling, and Rafe’s incredulous expression intensified his chagrin. Staying cool and focused under pressure is what made him an extremely valuable asset to the Crown. He’d never lost sight of the ultimate objective—until now.
“What the devil, Gray?”
“Bloody hell, he’d had his hands all over her. I wasn’t thinking like an operative at the time,” he bit out the admission with difficulty. He rose to pace in front of the desk. “We’ve been casting our nets in the wrong stream. It’s personal, not political. It has been from the beginning. Why target Lily except to hurt the earl?”
Rafe straightened. “You think he’s alive.”
“I suspect he is.”
“Any idea who might be behind it all?”
One name came to mind, but it was so outlandish, he couldn’t bring himself to speak his suspicions yet. “Lily brought up something last night that’s important. How did the man know that she would be at Fieldstones? And the carriage attack. And at Napier’s. Both attacks required planning, and the note before Napier’s arrived in the afternoon. We have an informant in our midst.”
“I’ve wondered the same since the carriage attack. Lady Minerva knew. She could have told anyone. For all we know, the story will be around London before nightfall,” Rafe said, disgusted. “Perhaps I should pay a visit to the ice princess to ferret out the truth. I wouldn’t mind using my obvious charms to discover her secrets.”
“She’s a duke’s sister and not without significant influence. Won’t do you any good to make an enemy there. Anyway, Lily trusts her.”
“That’s good enough for you?”
“It is. No, it’s someone with more intimate access. A member of the household. Any recent acquisitions come to mind?”
Rafe pounded the desk with a fist, making the inkpot jump and splatter. “Penny. He worked with Father, or so he says. Showed up last autumn looking for work. Of course, Lily took him in immediately. I was too immersed in my own troubles to give him much thought, to be honest. He’s been her constant shadow at Wintermarsh and in town. He’d be privy to all sorts of information.”
Gray’s mind whirled. “He worked with the earl? Why didn’t anyone think to tell me?”
“I haven’t exactly been on top of my game the last few months. Bad show on my part.” Rafe pushed out of his chair and hauled open the door. “Higgins, fetch Mr. Pendleton immediately.”
“Anything amiss, my lord?” the butler asked.
The door blocked the man from Gray’s view, but unlike his usually officious, arrogant tone, worry tinted the words.
“Nothing to concern you. Mr. Pendleton, if you please.” The hard edge of Rafe’s voice drew the tension threading the room taut.
“Yes, my lord, right away.”
Rafe leaned in the doorway, awaiting their suspect. Clomping boots signaled the approach of the burly coachman. Entering the room to find both men waiting, Penny’s demeanor shifted from accommodating to suspicious in an instant. And rightly so.
The man looked much the same as normal. Baggy jacket and breeches emphasized his slouching walk. Lank hair hung around a pockmarked face with blunt, rough features. With enlightened eyes, Gray detected the underlying strength and intelligence lurking not so very far beneath the surface.
“Sit, Penny.” Rafe closed the door and perched on the side of the desk like a hawk ready to dive for a kill. Gray joined him so they looked down on the man.
“Is there somewhere you need me to drive you,
my lord?” Penny asked, but his voice and expression were uncooperative.
All three of the men in the room had dealt with deceit and treachery. All three recognized in the others a common understanding of the proceedings. Unfortunately for Penny, he was outnumbered.
Gray fired the first salvo. “You worked for the earl, is that correct?”
Surliness twisted Penny’s mouth. “Aye. I told Lady Lily as much.”
“What kind of work?”
“Ran messages. Reconnaissance.” Like any good solider, Penny was trained to offer as little information as possible.
“Did he make you angry? Is that why you turned?” Rafe’s voice was absent any patience.
Penny cast his gaze back and forth between the two of them and shifted, the leather creaking. “The earl could make a nun angry on occasion. Gents, I prefer frank talk these days. Let’s all quit pussyfooting around. What exactly are you accusing me of?”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed with menace, and he shifted off the desk. Gray stopped him with a hand on his arm and said, “You’ve been passing Lady Lily’s schedule to someone. To whom?”
Penny’s hands dropped to the arms of the chair, and he pushed up straighter. “I’ve done no such thing.” Outrage tinged his voice. “I would never. I vowed to protect her with my life.”
“Wait…what? Vowed to whom?”
“Himself. The earl. On our last mission, he told me to seek out his estate if I found myself in need. He promised me work as long as I kept an eye on his daughter. He worried about her.”
“He did?” Rafe and Gray spoke on top of each other and in identically incredulous tones. Rafe appeared as startled as Gray felt.
Penny settled back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Seemed to. The earl was rather tight-lipped though. Now what’s this about passing information about my lady?”
Rafe smoothed a hand down his beard a half dozen times. “We don’t know where the earl is. I don’t suppose you have any idea of his whereabouts? In addition to his suspicious disappearance, someone has been targeting Lily over the spring. The carriage attack for one.”
An Indecent Invitation: Spies and Lovers, Book 1 Page 21