“I know we will. Reynolds will be pivotal to any plan. He’s spent the better part of a week looking into Maitland. If anyone would be able to guess his movements and next move, I think it would be him.”
She dipped her head back in frustration, but also acquiescence. “Fine. I won’t argue the prudence of waiting.”
For the first time since they had begun this search that day, Jasper found himself smiling. Because that was what Thomasina did. She brought light to the darkness.
He touched her cheek. “I thank you for that. For now we will put this statue in the safe in my study. And we wait.”
She leaned against his palm. “And discuss our next move? I would assume that includes planning how we intend to parlay with this villain once we make contact.”
Jasper stared at her. They had been speaking in terms of “we” when it came to their plans, but he hadn’t ever imagined bringing Thomasina into the dangerous endgame he would certainly face if he met with Maitland a second time. The very idea of exposing his wife to that bastard made Jasper’s skin crawl.
“I’m happy to discuss strategy with you,” he said. “But I want one thing to be perfectly clear: I’m not taking you to meet with him.”
Her mouth dropped open and she looked genuinely shocked by that declaration. “What do you mean you aren’t taking me? It is my sister we’re trying to save. I most definitely want to be part of this!”
“He is a criminal,” Jasper said, throwing his hands up. “A man willing to steal and lie and…”
He trailed off because he didn’t want to pursue anything else Maitland might have done, not when Thomasina was already concerned about Anne’s whereabouts.
Thomasina’s cheeks burned crimson and she pivoted away from him. “You would cut me out, then? Let me stay here, terrified not just for my sister but for you if you were to meet with this person? This desperate, terrible person? That’s wonderful, Jasper. I’m so pleased that you only use me when you need me. That you don’t see me as a partner.”
She didn’t give him time to answer her accusation. She simply exited the attic chamber in a flounce of green gown. He stared at where she’d left. He should probably leave it be. Let her steam and stew at him if doing that kept her safe.
But he found he couldn’t. So he followed her.
Chapter 24
Thomasina was halfway down the stairs from the attic to the family wing of the house when she heard Jasper’s footfalls behind her. Her heart leapt despite her anger with him, her frustration at the situation, her fear of being left out of its resolution.
“Thomasina,” he said from behind her.
She chose to ignore him, tears stinging her eyes as she turned toward her chamber down the long hallway.
“Thomasina,” he repeated, this time louder. “Please stop.”
“Why?” she asked as she reached for her door handle. “What else is there to say? You have determined I’ve used up my usefulness, haven’t you, my lord?”
“No!” he snapped, his tone sharp as he reached out and covered her hand with his on the door handle. His tone was softer as he forced her fingers to loosen their grip on the iron handle. “Please.”
She huffed out her breath as she stared at the door before her, felt his fingers against hers as he held her hand. She was being unfair, perhaps. Letting her emotions, her fears, make her reactive in a way that didn’t take into account what he feared.
But damn it, hadn’t she spent her whole life taking everyone else into account? Hadn’t he asked her not to please, but to ask for what she wanted?
She pivoted. “What do you want to say?”
Her breath caught because he was so close now. He leaned a hand on the door beside her, and suddenly he felt very warm and very close as he stared down at her with all that coiled intensity. All that palpable heat and power.
Why did he have to move her so much?
“My not wanting you to be a part of any confrontation with Maitland has nothing to do with not trusting you or valuing you as a partner. I have never had a better one in my life, Thomasina. I’ve never understood how much I needed one until you crashed into everything I’ve built and made me question all of it.”
Her lips parted. “That—that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
He smiled a fraction. “It is the best compliment. My life needed crashing. But the reason I don’t want you to be near Maitland is that it terrifies me. Thomasina, I—”
He broke off and his cheeks flushed slightly. His gaze darted away. When it returned, she could see the struggle in him. The barriers that remained between them. Lower now, so much lower, but still present.
“You?” she encouraged.
He leaned closer, until she felt his breath on her skin. She shivered with it.
“I have never wanted to have something to lose. But I have that now, in you.” His voice was low, rough. It skated across her skin like a kiss. “And if you were to be hurt by Maitland in any way, I wouldn’t survive it. I would be focused on you and your safety for every moment we were with him.”
She stared at him. “Are you saying you…you…care for me?”
He hesitated, but then he nodded slowly. She couldn’t breathe as he leaned in, his hands gliding up her arms, his lips brushing hers. She caught his lapels, gripping them for purchase as he kissed her. It was light at first, gentle, but then the power and passion of that connection of their bodies grew. His mouth opened, he dragged her tongue inside, sucking as she lifted on her tiptoes to get closer to him.
She was drowning in him, lost to everything but him. Perhaps that was his plan. She wasn’t so foolish as to think he wouldn’t use her desire against her to keep her from going against his wishes. But in that moment she didn’t care. She wanted to be comforted by his touch and offer the same comfort to him. The past few days had been so painful…they both deserved a little pleasure to soften the edges.
But he didn’t ask for that. Instead, he drew away, releasing her gently as he tried to catch his breath.
“Why?” she gasped.
He smiled. “It is not for a lack of wanting, I assure you. But last night you withdrew your consent. I respect that barrier and your reasons behind it.”
It was evident he wanted her by the expression on his face, not to mention the patently obvious erection straining his trousers. But he didn’t pursue because she’d asked him not to.
Only she didn’t want that anymore. She wanted connection. She needed it, and she knew he did too. She cleared her throat and opened her chamber door. “Lord Harcourt, I want you to come into my room. I want you to come into my bed. I want you to come into my body. Right now. Tonight. All night.” She shifted as the discomfort of demand washed over her. “Please.”
He tilted his head back with a low chuckle that seemed to work its way through her very bloodstream. “Can’t help that last part, can you?”
“No, it’s my nature to ask rather than demand,” she admitted.
She backed into her chamber and he followed, his shoulders back, his chest forward, like a beast stalking her rather than a very proper earl. She liked the beast.
“You did a very good job demanding,” he whispered as he shut the door behind them.
She moved to him and he caught her in his arms, grinding his mouth down without the sweetness or hesitation he’d had in the hallway. He consumed her and she burned in the fire of his desire even as she stoked it with the fuel of her own. She had never needed something as much as she needed this man. She’d never wanted something more.
She wasn’t about to let tonight end without getting exactly that.
She forced her hands between their tightly pressed bodies and found the buttons on his jacket. She twisted at them in frustration, opening some, popping others away as he laughed against her mouth. She pushed the jacket aside just as he spun her around roughly. He yanked her backside against his pelvis, rotating them together as he walked her toward the bed.
She couldn’t breathe a
s he kissed the side of her neck, sucking hard enough for a flash of pleasure-pain to make itself known in every sensitive nerve ending in her trembling body. He unfastened her with far more finesse than she had used, and once the gown was open she tugged it away so she stood only in her chemise.
He backed up, the warmth of him no longer curling against her. She looked over her shoulder to find he was unbuttoning his shirt, but watching her with a speculative expression.
“Put your hands on the bed,” he ordered, softly but firmly.
She edged closer to the high mattress and fisted each hand against the coverlet. She heard his shirt hit the floor and gasped at the sound. He would take off his trousers next, and her legs shook at the thought of him naked behind her.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please, please touch me.”
He was silent a moment. “You want me to please you?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder again and nodded. “Yes.”
“I very much intend to do so, and myself in the process,” he promised as he moved forward and tugged her chemise down her arms. He lifted each hand off the bed in turn so he could pull it away.
She lifted her backside against him out of instinct rather than knowledge, and he grunted out a curse beneath his breath that turned her ears crimson, then gripped her hips and ground himself against her. Through his trousers, she felt the hard ridge of his erection press against the valley of her backside, and sucked air in through her teeth at the sensation.
His hand wedged between them and she felt him unfasten his trousers. Now his hot flesh touched her rather than the rough fabric. His cock nudged her from behind as he reached around to curl his body around hers, to cup her breasts, to pluck her nipples. She pushed back and he entered an inch. They sighed together, and he stood a little taller as he thrust his hips and claimed his prize in one long stroke.
She gripped the coverlet tighter as he withdrew and slammed forward again. Her sheath fluttered at the hard invasion, which hit her body in new ways thanks to the position. He leaned in and bit her shoulder, gentle but possessive, and she cried out with unexpected response at the harsh touch.
He caught her hand, tangling his fingers with hers. She clung to him through a few strokes, but then he moved, guiding their combined hands between her legs. He settled her fingers there, against the wet warmth of her sex.
“Please yourself, Thomasina,” he said, his voice rough.
She looked back at him, saw the desperate need in his eyes. The driving desire and passion and somewhere beneath it all, something else. Something deeper than the physical. Something close to everything she’d ever dreamed of.
She found her fingers moving as he stroked again, pushing aside her outer lips, brushing against the root of his cock as he took her. He let out a garbled moan and gripped her hips harder, grinding in shallow circles as she found the right spot for her pleasure. Her clitoris was already hard there, and she stroked it, letting the hood come back to find the exquisitely sensitive nub beneath. She gasped as she ground against him, ground against her own hand.
Sensation mounted, the combined power of their joined bodies and her seeking fingers. Already she was close to orgasm, reaching for it as she panted out moans that mingled with his, as she pushed back against him to drive him faster and harder. His hands held her so tightly, she knew she would have bruises. She wanted them. Marks to prove that she was his.
And that he was hers. The fingerprints of his passion would be left on her body, and she longed for that.
She arched against her hand as the sensation arced out of control. A few more strokes and she was flying over the edge, gasping for air as she flopped on the bed, her fingers still rubbing madly, her hips still rising to meet his rapidly increasing strokes. Their skin slapped together, mingling with the sounds of their pleasure, and finally he cried out her name and arched his back, his seed pumping deep within her as the final waves of her orgasm faded.
He flopped down against the edge of the bed over her, his hands sliding over hers, his body still joined with her, his mouth against her neck as he whispered gentle words of pleasure and warmth and gratitude on her ultra-sensitive skin.
Together they crawled up on the bed. He lay on his back, she sprawled across his chest, and for a moment every other thing, every other anger, every other fear in the world faded and there was only them.
And even though she knew that couldn’t last, she reveled in it, reveled in him for as long as he would let her.
Chapter 25
After a long night of making love, Jasper was asleep. Deeply asleep, if his long breaths were any indication. Thomasina rolled on her side, watching him in this brief moment where he couldn’t put a barrier between them. Even in sleep, the toll of the previous day’s events was on every line of his face. His mouth was pulled into a frown, his fist clenched at his side, his eyes darting beneath his lids in a dream or nightmare.
Was it about his brother? Or her sister? Or the title? Or the man who threatened all of it, all of them, Ellis Maitland? It was hard to say.
After all, Jasper had carried all that weight on his back, along with a good deal more, for a long time. There had been no one in his life beyond perhaps his man of affairs who he could truly depend upon. Not his father, his brother, his mother. Not a lover. So he didn’t know how to put the weights down and let someone else bear some of them.
No matter how frustrated she’d been the previous night after their search of the attic, she was fully aware that his past was why Jasper shut her out. He feared for her safety, certainly that was likely true. But he also doubted her ability to help him. To support him. To be a true partner.
She slowly pushed from the bed and walked to the window. Outside day was breaking, sending just a sliver of golden light into the room. She leaned against the glass, taking in the garden in that soft paleness of dawn. And if she looked just to her left…there was the first of the outbuildings down the hill. Including the storage building where Maitland had made his search for the very statue they had found the night before.
She wondered if that villain had searched the trunk upstairs, if it had been with the others instead, if he would have found the bear and the bust it held. After all, it had been a good hiding place. If she’d picked the bear up in an armful of items, she might not have noticed its extra weight.
Which made her wonder if Solomon had hidden other things in careful places like that. Outside were there other clues to his dealings with Maitland, hidden carefully amongst the mess the villain had left behind?
More to the point, were there items that could ultimately help in their search for Anne?
She glanced again at Jasper, asleep in her bed. He would probably be annoyed if she went down to look for herself. He’d growl and mutter and tell her she was being foolish and even reckless. But how reckless could such a thing be if there were guards down at the outbuilding? She knew Jasper had arranged for there to be armed men watching there at all times, she’d heard his stern command the day before.
If she went, she might spare her husband more of the pain he’d experienced when he saw Solomon’s old toy and realized just how far his troubled brother had sunk into the mire. If she found something useful, she might be able to use it as leverage to convince him to allow her to help in his continuing search for her sister.
She folded her arms. That was all there was to it. She was going down to the outbuildings. She was going to look for more clues. She moved to the attached dressing room, shutting the door carefully behind herself, and opened her armoire. She picked a gown she could fasten in the front and dressed herself swiftly. She pulled her hair back and pinned it in place. She didn’t look like a countess, but it wouldn’t matter.
Then she slipped from the chamber and went downstairs. She found Willard in the foyer, talking to a housemaid about some bit of business. As she entered the vestibule, he nodded the young woman off. “Good morning, my lady. We did not expect to see you so early. May I have your
breakfast brought, or were you planning an early morning constitutional?”
“A constitutional,” she said with a smile for the butler. “I’ll wait for the earl to rise to eat. Willard, do you know if there were guards stationed overnight at the building that was burgled?”
Willard’s expression hardened. “Yes, my lady, of course. We did just as the earl requested and our largest footman, Parks, was stationed there overnight with stern instructions not to let himself fall asleep. You will not find anyone allowed to harm this family again.”
She warmed at his passionate defense of the family. Her family. Certainly Jasper was a good master to his staff, for they were all fiercely loyal to him. “I’m sure no one would dare shirk his duty with you around, Willard. You are doing a fine job.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he said, and his cheeks glowed with true appreciation at the compliment.
“Well, I shall be off then,” she said, making no other reference to the outbuilding. The butler certainly didn’t need to know her whereabouts and he had answered her only concern in regards to her own safety. Now she could go along to the building without fear of consequences and tell Jasper she had been careful.
She slipped from the house into the increasing morning sun and headed toward the building at the bottom of the hill. It was a bright day, cool but with the promise of a warmth to come that made her smile. She did love this estate. After Anne was found, she truly looked forward to exploring it without worry and with Jasper by her side.
In a few moments, she reached the lower buildings. In the distance, she saw the storage building and a chair set up beside its door. But there was no footman perched there.
She slowed her gait as she reached the building. Nothing looked out of place. There was a tin of coffee or tea sitting beside the chair and a half-eaten biscuit, as if the young man had been interrupted in his snack. But not by an enemy.
She moved to the door. Maitland had kicked it in when he came before, so it wasn’t locked. She pushed it open and stepped into the dimmer light, letting her eyes adjust as she looked around.
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