The Gentleman Thief

by Deborah Simmons

  Only his resolve to cause his wife no further distress kept him at her side, smiling and mumbling inanities to the seemingly endless number of well-wishers. Of course, not everyone they had met during the eventful summer was here. The much maligned Lord Whalsey reportedly had eloped with a spinster heiress who adored his balding pate, while Mr. Hawkins had been escorted out of town by a jealous husband, with Ashdowne’s prompting.

  As he stood surveying the crowd, Ashdowne noticed Jeffries moving toward them, and for the first time, he felt no unease at the Bow Street Runner’s arrival. Having come from London especially for the festivities, Jeffries headed toward an oblivious Georgiana.

  “Miss? I mean, my lady?” he said, trying to garner Georgiana’s attention. Unfortunately, she was turned the other way and abruptly swung round, the reticule she was holding arcing fiercely toward Ashdowne’s chest. Well accustomed to such threats, Ashdowne simply caught the missile in one hand, while snaking his other arm around his wife’s waist in order to keep her perfectly balanced. He was rewarded with Georgiana’s blink of surprise and a grateful smile that was an abbreviated version of The Look. He nearly sighed in bliss.

  “Very neatly done, my lord,” Jeffries said, breaking into a grin.

  “Thank you,” Ashdowne said dryly.

  “I’m thinking you are her keeper, after all, and a good job you’re doing of it,” the Bow Street Runner said.

  “And it’s just as well since I’ve taken on the job permanently,” Ashdowne said, slanting a fond look toward his wife. “It’s a difficult task, but with such attractive benefits,” he murmured, enjoying the sight of his wife’s blush. As if she had put up with enough of his teasing, Georgiana donned her most businesslike expression and nodded at the Bow Street Runner.

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Jeffries,” she said. “You left Bath so abruptly that I never had a chance to say goodbye and to thank you for your collaboration.”

  “Well, once the necklace was found, there was no reason for me to stay, but I enjoyed our little talks, miss, I mean, my lady. You’re the most unusual female I’ve ever met, if you pardon my saying so,” Jeffries said.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Ashdowne muttered, but as Jeffries made his farewells, he felt a nagging twinge of guilt. Although he’d been avoiding it for weeks, it kept returning, reminding him that Jeffries had no idea Georgiana had solved the Bath case on her own. No one knew, for the theft wasn’t even a theft anymore. Although the return of the emeralds had absolved Ashdowne of all possible suspicions, it had also dashed Georgiana’s dreams. And that was something he couldn’t forget—or forgive.

  Suddenly aware of his own scowl, Ashdowne shook off his grim mood to greet Georgiana’s great-uncle, a small, scholarly looking gentleman who studied him through thick glasses.

  “So you’re Ashdowne,” Silas said, peering at him as if he were a scientific specimen.

  Grateful that Georgiana had never gone to London with this fellow, Ashdowne smiled.

  Silas nodded slowly, apparently satisfied with the inspection. “If Georgiana picked you, I expect you’ll do, but just remember, my boy, geniuses are a bit eccentric. You have to give them the chance to pursue their studies, and every once in a while you have to indulge them.”

  Ashdowne tried to remember how long it had been since anyone had had the audacity to call him a boy, but he schooled his expression to sober agreement. “Well, I know it, sir. And I have every intention of keeping this one busy for a long time to come,” he said, tilting his head toward Georgiana with a pride he did not attempt to disguise.

  Obviously pleased with Ashdowne’s reply, Silas moved off with a chuckle, but Ashdowne’s uneasiness returned, along with his guilt, until he could no longer contain it. Taking Georgiana’s hands in his own, he pulled her into a small alcove for a moment’s privacy. When she gazed up at him expectantly, he felt his throat tighten.

  “I’ve had so much to apologize for that I never told you…I’m sorry that I deprived you of your rightful recognition,” he whispered. “But I meant all I said about London. Whenever you want to go, we will, and I’ll introduce you to the most brilliant minds, so that you may shine among your own.”

  Georgiana gazed up at him in surprise. “I’m married to the most brilliant mind I’ve ever met, so what do I need with others?” she asked, giving him her why are you being so obtuse look. “I know I once craved fame, but I’m perfectly content with an admiring audience of one as long as you are that one, and maybe that’s what I was looking for all along.”

  Uncertain of his composure, Ashdowne squeezed her hands with his own. “If you say so. Of course, at my estate there are hundreds of people, staff and tenants and villagers, who might be in need of your expertise.” And if they weren’t, Ashdowne had every intention of manufacturing something—anything—to engage her interest, for he planned to spend his lifetime trying to make her happy.

  “That sounds wonderful, for you know that I do love a good mystery,” Georgiana said. “But, do you know something else, Ashdowne? I think love is the greatest mystery of all, and I wouldn’t mind working on solving it. Indeed, I’m ready for a new adventure…tonight.”

  Her husky whisper made Ashdowne’s body leap to life, and he groaned as he leaned toward her only to pull back. “When are the guests leaving?” he asked, lifting one dark brow in inquiry.

  Not soon enough.

  It was well into afternoon when Georgiana’s relatives finally bade her goodbye. They were under the impression that the couple would be traveling to his family seat, but Ashdowne was rapidly reconsidering that plan. With Georgiana here, the Camden Place house didn’t seem nearly so objectionable, and he had the uneasy suspicion that unless his wife wanted to be deflowered in a coach, they might as well stay here, for the night at least.

  And so, in the hazy light of a golden Bath afternoon, Ashdowne led his countess to the garish bedroom, softened by her very presence, and began stripping off her elegant wedding gown, as he had so longed to do all day. And, as before, when they were together like this everything seemed to move more slowly, as if time itself was suspended. Like the night in the baths and in her bedroom, Ashdowne felt dazed, his blood thickening in his veins as he touched her.

  He had not done so during the weeks before their wedding, for he had not trusted himself, and now he was glad of the wait, for a new poignancy colored each intention. Shuddering at his first caress of her bare skin, Ashdowne felt emotions swell within him. “I love you, Georgiana,” he murmured as he dipped his head to kiss her shoulder.

  It was far smoother than the fine silk of her gown, and he let the garment fall to the floor as he explored each pale inch of her arms and her throat before turning his attention to the curves visible above her white shift. “All of you, Georgiana. I want all of you, your mind, your heart, your body,” he murmured as his palms covered her breasts.

  She whimpered in agreement as he stroked, grazing the silk against her in wide circles that gradually narrowed down to the hard tips. But as delightful as this play was, he wanted to taste her nipples, free and unadorned, and so he reached for the hem of the undergarment, slowly lifting it as he stroked the backs of her legs, her buttocks, her shoulders. And then it was gone, and she stood before him in stockings and slippers, her body gilded by the late afternoon light that flooded through the tall windows.

  “You are so beautiful,” Ashdowne whispered. When she accepted his compliment with a grimace, he laughed and pointed to her heart. “Here and here, too,” he added, touching her forehead.

  “Thank you. So are you,” Georgiana murmured, and the way her gaze traveled up and down his body made Ashdowne want to rip off all his clothes in a heated frenzy. But there was no need. Georgiana stepped forward and tugged off his coat with a boldness that didn’t surprise him.

  Then she unbuttoned his waistcoat and slid off his shirt, her tiny hands exploring his chest in a manner that made him throw back his head in ecstasy. His innocent bride didn’t stop there, but ran her
palms down his hips to his groin. The feel of her touching him, even through the cloth, was almost too much, and for a moment he thought he might spill himself into his clothes.

  “No, Georgiana sweet. Not yet,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing her hand away. But Georgiana was nothing if not persistent, and she returned to struggle with his buttons and tug his garments down to his ankles. Instead of removing them entirely, she seemed distracted by his legs, for Ashdowne felt her gentle fingers slide upward, and he groaned.

  Suddenly she paused, and when he looked down, he saw her kneeling before him, her blond curls a bright frame to the beautiful face that was poised within inches of his hardness. He sucked in a breath, warning her with his glance, but she rarely heeded him, and leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the tip.

  Where had innocent Georgiana learned such a thing? Ashdowne wondered, as he shuddered so forcefully that he came up against the bed and sat down hard on the soft surface.

  As if divining his startled expression, she whispered, “Just like in the book.”

  Ashdowne had a fleeting memory of the erotic drawings they had viewed in the baths before Georgiana climbed onto his lap, and all thoughts fled as he frantically kicked off the restraints of his clothing and his boots.

  Fully aware of the need to slow down, Ashdowne tried to restrain his own urgency, but his passion had been too long denied and Georgiana was straddling him. Stroking her hair, her face and her shoulders, he drew her close, his member throbbing insistently beneath her. When it touched her own moist heat, he released a harsh groan.

  “Georgiana—” Ashdowne meant to warn her, but she was rubbing against him, and his restraint was gone. Gently gripping her hips, he lowered her and thrust upward into her slick heat. He heard her soft cry, and then he was home, so high inside her that he shuddered with the need to spill his seed. He stayed there, painfully still, as he stroked her back, his face buried in her hair until he felt her hands on his jaw, turning him toward her.

  “It’s all right. I want to give you pleasure,” she said, softly. And when her mouth met his, open and giving, Ashdowne’s caution fled. Gripping her tightly, he thrust upward, slowly at first, and then with a frantic pace that had him grunting and groaning, his body sleek with sweat, his mind focused only on the hot pressure of need that drove him on until he exploded with a hoarse shout. His violent shudders gradually faded, and at last he fell back across the bed, Georgiana still in his arms only to realize just what he had done.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” he muttered aloud. He had planned a tender, romantic initiation for his virgin bride, but somewhere along the line she had distracted him. With a frown, Ashdowne opened his eyes to see Georgiana sprawled on top of him, her chin resting in one hand. As he watched, she blew a curl from her forehead.

  “Why not?” she asked. “It was your turn.”

  “My turn?” Ashdowne echoed.

  “The last time, in my bedroom, I know that you went away without…” Her words dissolved into a pink blush, and Ashdowne felt a new rush of emotion at her selflessness.

  “Oh, Georgiana sweet, that doesn’t mean your first experience had to be like this. I should have taken my time,” he muttered, reaching up to cup her cheek.

  She shrugged, the action bobbing her breasts against his chest, and Ashdowne drew in a harsh breath. “But we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want, even all those things in the book,” she whispered with a smile that was somehow both shy and provocative.

  That book! Ashdowne wondered if it would be the death of him, and his body hardened in enthusiastic response. Rolling Georgiana beneath him, he smiled down at her luscious form, bound to him forever. She was right, for they were just beginning, Ashdowne thought, and he lowered his mouth to her breast, determined to discover all of her secrets. Soon he more than made up for his wife’s previous lack, as he found those pleasure spots that most enthralled her, along with a certain movement that wrung new cries of ecstacy from her.

  When at last they curled up together, too exhausted to move, moonlight was splashing over the disheveled covers of the bed, and Georgiana gave him a new version of The Look that left him blissful as she whispered to him. “As I said before, Ashdowne, you’re a man of many talents.”

  They spent the next few days in the bedroom, Georgiana finally dragging him from the house so that the maids could clean and that they might take the air. Enjoying the first brisk breeze of the coming fall, Ashdowne walked along the familiar streets of Bath and began to wonder if they ought not to return next summer. Perhaps to a more comfortable residence, he thought, only to have his musings interrupted when Georgiana pulled him to a halt and tugged on his sleeve.

  “Look at that,” she whispered in a tone he had not heard for some time.

  “What?” Ashdowne scanned the area, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but he didn’t have Georgiana’s particular sensibilities. He glanced toward her in question.

  “Over there. Don’t you see anything suspicious about that man in the blue coat?” Without waiting for his answer, Georgiana continued, a bit breathlessly, “It looks as though he’s following that woman!”

  “Really?” Ashdowne asked, grinning in delight.

  “See! There he goes, right after her. Do you think we ought to follow him?” Georgiana asked.

  Gazing down at his wife, Ashdowne gave in to his next adventure, the first of many more, he knew, and he shrugged with careless abandon. “Why not?”

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-5946-4

  THE GENTLEMAN THIEF

  Copyright © 2000 by Deborah Siegenthal

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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