His Wicked Secret

by Lauren Smith

  “My lord?” Tom Linley’s voice startled him. He opened his eyes to see the young man watching him with open concern. He smiled, trying to relax a little.

  “Have a seat and dip your toes in the water, lad.” He patted the wood planks of the dock beside him.

  “I really shouldn’t,” the young man said.

  “Linley, sit,” Charles ordered.

  Tom plopped down on the planks, frowning.

  “Boots and stockings off, and feet in the water.” Charles faced him with an imposing stare.

  Linley resisted for a moment before blowing out a deeply frustrated breath. Then he slipped off his boots and stockings. He dipped his toes in the water warily, as if it might bite him.

  “Christ, lad, it’s only water.”

  “’Tis cold water,” Linley huffed.

  Charles laughed. “Can you swim? Be honest with me.”

  “Yes, quite well, actually.” Linley raised his chin with pride, and well he should. Most men couldn’t.

  “Good.” Charles reached over and gave Linley a hard shove.

  “Ack!” The young man flailed his arms as he plummeted off the dock and into the water with a splash. When he came back up sputtering outrage, Charles hooted with laughter. Linley had lost his cap, and his blonde hair was plastered to his face.

  “My lord!” Linley snapped. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You’re far too tense, lad. You think I haven’t noticed? You deserve some fun.” Charles curled his arm around one of the wood pillars of the dock and leaned forward to peer down at his all too serious servant.

  Linley swam up to the dock and gripped the nearest post for support. Without warning, he grabbed Charles’s ankle and yanked. Charles tried to grab the wood pillar, but it was too late. He plunged into the cold depths of the pond.

  For an instant he panicked. He saw the light shimmer on the surface above him and felt the momentum of the fall drag his body down…down. But no. There were no weights. No rope. He was fine. He kicked hard and clawed his way up from the depths, and the panic dissipated. In fact, he reveled in the fact that he was not powerless. He had his freedom.

  “Not so fast, lad.” He tugged the young man under the water again, with a triumphant cry of, “Revenge!”

  Linley struggled but came up laughing. Charles grinned. Tom reminded him so much of his little brother Graham and how they used to play. That had been before… Now he and Graham rarely spoke, something that made the holidays quite awkward for their mother and sister.

  Linley splashed him, laughing as Charles shook his head, sending water spraying around them. Charles held up his hands in surrender.

  “You’ve done me in, lad. I need to rest.” He swam along the dock and reached the bank. Then, squishing his wet clothes to remove excess water, he walked back down the dock and held out his hands to Linley.

  “My lord, you don’t need to—”

  “Nonsense. Take my hands.” Linley’s eyes were wide, but the innocence he saw there harbored shadows of pain.

  He’s still afraid to trust me, even after all this time. I haven’t hurt him the way his previous master did. I wonder when he will learn to trust again?

  Linley’s secrets still caused him pain, but Charles couldn’t help the boy if the he would not open up to him. And it wasn’t as if Charles himself spoke easily about his past. Not the moments that haunted him, anyway.

  “Very well. I was only trying to help.” He turned away, but the young man surprised him by grasping his hand firmly. Charles turned back and hoisted a dripping wet Linley out of the water.

  “Look at us, like a pair of drowned mice.” Charles laughed and twisted the loose part of his shirt and dripped the water onto the dock. Linley crossed his arms over his chest and shivered.

  “Let’s get you inside before you rattle your bones.” Charles slapped Linley’s shoulder, and the pair headed back to the house.

  It was only as they reached Rochester Hall that Charles realized that this was one of the rare times that he had seen Linley smile, even laugh. He wasn’t sure why, but the fact that he had given the boy some small joy filled Charles with a peace he hadn’t felt since his father had died.

  “Are you ready?” Jonathan asked.

  Audrey danced forward a step, fists raised. It was the fifth day of the house party, and she and Jonathan had managed to successfully train in the leisure room whenever there was a lull in the activities.

  “I’m ready.” Wearing her breeches she had so much more agility, and she had grown to love the time she spent training with Jonathan. This time she hadn’t even worn a corset and couldn’t believe how easily she could breathe without the confining press of whalebone against her chest.

  “Remember, you must evade first, disable second.” Jonathan’s green eyes were serious, and she liked that. Whenever they sparred, he didn’t patronize her or attempt to seduce her, which he easily could have done. In the last week, she had grown far too used to his kisses during the day and spending each night in his bed and in his arms.

  He kept to his agreement to sleep and nothing more, which Audrey was of two minds about. She enjoyed being close to him, but she feared that if she fully gave herself to him she would never be able to handle it when he decided he wanted to leave her alone and stop their lessons. She tried not to think about his sudden sweetness and what it meant. She wasn’t sure she could trust this more open side to him. There was always the chance it was simply the final move in whatever game he might be playing.

  Jonathan lunged for her. She ducked and darted around him, keeping her arms up. As he turned, he swung a fist, a little more slowly than a real attacker might, but still fast enough that she had to hastily parry the blow. First she had to commit the moves to memory, and then they could speed things up. He gave her no time to recover; he tried to sweep her legs, and she jumped, narrowly averting being knocked flat on her back.

  “Good,” he said. “Very good.” He nodded and lowered his hands. Audrey did the same, beaming in delight. He lunged again, grabbing her by the hair. The hold didn’t hurt, but it startled her enough that she cried out. He pulled her back against him, and his other hand gripped her throat. She was trapped, her back pressed against his chest.

  “You must never for a moment trust that you have safely outmaneuvered your opponent,” Jonathan said in a silky whisper by her ear.

  “But we were finished.”

  “Were we? When a man attacks, he may pretend to yield and wait for a better moment to strike. You must always think like a predator in order to protect yourself. These men see themselves as the foxes and you are the rabbit. You must learn to be the fox. Now, try to get free.” Jonathan repositioned them so she was pressed up against the wall with her body caged in by his from behind.

  Audrey pushed, her muscles straining. She had been sore and fatigued each night, but she hadn’t asked Jonathan for any breaks in their lessons. Now she wished she had because she felt too weak to move.

  “Don’t push back. You’re wasting precious strength. Your attacker will wear you down, and when you can’t fight, he will jerk up your skirts from behind and take you. Do you want that?”

  Audrey knew his words were designed to provoke fear of an unwanted attack, but she was aroused by picturing him as the man doing that. If she had skirts on and he pulled them up now, she would have no desire to resist. Even though she knew that would be a mistake, it didn’t stop her from wanting it. That gave her an idea.

  She stopped resisting and arched her back, rubbing her bottom against his groin. She let out a breathless moan as his erection pressed against the front of his trousers. She feigned another light struggle but then reached behind herself and grabbed his hip, pulling him tighter against her. His grip on her hair tightened.

  “I thought I told you to fight back.” His voice grew rough.

  “I tried, but now…I need…” She allowed a genuine huskiness to fill her voice as she rolled her hips. “Please, just a little something�
��” It was a code between them, a little something but not fully something. He let out a frustrated breath against her neck and then started kissing her shoulder and nibbling at her ear. His hand on her throat moved to the front of her breeches. He slipped his hand below her waist beneath the trousers and cupped her bare sex, sliding one finger into her.

  She purred in pleasure as he gently thrust into her with that finger over and over, owning her. Her legs shook as the climax built hard and fast, and then she exploded apart.

  “Now you,” she said as he withdrew his hand.

  “Yes.” He let her go, and she turned around and swiftly brought her knee up into his groin, hard enough that he doubled over in shock. She shoved him flat on his back and rushed to grab a fencing foil from a rack against the wall and point it at his throat.

  Jonathan lay on his back, breathing hard for several seconds before he started to laugh.

  “Did you see that? I gave you a promise, and you fell for it.”

  “I did. And it will work with most men. The idea of a willing woman is usually preferred, but…” He lifted his head. “You must be prepared for those men who thrive on a woman’s pain and humiliation as well. They won’t fall for your tricks. It might even make them angrier, and you don’t want that.”

  Audrey nodded. Her legs were still a bit unsteady from the climax he’d given her, and she collapsed down beside him as he moved into a sitting position on top of her.

  “Remember, if you are pinned, use your elbows. Dig into the ribs and kick back with your feet.”

  Audrey nodded.

  “Ready to go again?” he asked.

  The thought of another round of sparring made her body shake. She was exhausted. Thankfully the door to the leisure room opened, saving her from having to admit defeat.

  “Ah, so here you two are.” Lucien stood in the doorway, a bemused look on his face.

  “Good morning,” Audrey greeted brother-in-law.

  “You’re lucky Cedric isn’t here to stumble upon you,” Lucien said. “Though I would enjoy hearing you two try to explain yourselves to him.”

  Jonathan was quick to get to his feet and help Audrey to hers.

  “How are Horatia and little Evan?” Audrey asked.

  “Good. Both are getting stronger every day. That’s actually why I’m here. She wishes to see you.”

  “Oh?”

  “She’s in her bedchamber with Evan.” Lucien stepped back to allow Audrey to pass by. She glanced back at Jonathan as she headed for the stairs. His look of disappointment that their training session was over left her with a tiny swelling of hope in her heart.

  He likes spending time with me, at least a little. For now, it’s enough.

  17

  Audrey arrived at Horatia’s chamber and knocked lightly. She had visited Horatia and the baby at least once a day, but she still worried about her and Evander.

  “Come in!” Her sister’s voice was muffled by the door. Audrey turned the handle and entered.

  Horatia stood by the tall sash window overlooking the gardens. She wore a loose blue day gown, and her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck with a matching ribbon. She turned as Audrey closed the door behind her. Her face was glowing as she smiled at the tiny bundle swaddled in white blankets in her arms.

  “Lucien said you were doing well?” Audrey came closer, holding out her arms.

  Horatia carefully transferred the child into Audrey’s arms. “Yes, thank you.”

  The baby stared up at Audrey with sleepy hazel eyes. His button nose wrinkled as he yawned and stretched, putting one fist above his head before he relaxed. Audrey gently stroked a finger down his cheek and then touched his tiny, delicate, perfect fingers, which he gripped with surprising strength.

  The babe struggled to stay awake, but his eyes closed and he gave a toothless yawn, and a tiny peep of contentment escaped him. Then he tucked his hand, still clutching her finger, under his chin. A swell of love and adoration filled Audrey’s body and soul. The only way she could have loved him more, if that was even possible, was if he had been her own.

  “Such a little dear,” Audrey said.

  “He certainly is,” Horatia agreed. “I was so afraid for him at first.” Her eyes softened as she gazed down the baby. “But little Evander is a fighter. He’s going to be brave when he grows up.”

  “And strong.” Audrey gently extracted her finger from the baby’s clutches and handed him back to Horatia.

  She carried Evan back to his bassinet by the window and nestled him inside. The midday sun illuminated the crib like a place of worship. Audrey looked to her sister, seeing her differently for the first time since Evan’s birth. Horatia was still her sibling, but she was now a wife and a mother, privy to parts of life that Audrey might never know.

  “The doctor said sunlight will help him. It does seem to work.” She pushed down on the edge of the bassinet, gently rocking it. Then Horatia sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her.

  “Come. Sit. Tell me everything that’s happened since I’ve been resting.”

  Audrey’s eyes filled with tears as she sat down next to her sister, remembering the time before marriage when they had been the two younger sisters of an overprotective brother - two allies in a man’s domain. It had been a year since they had been able to conspire late at night or indulge in early-morning gossip as maids prepped their hair. Audrey had not let herself realize how starved she was for this kind of intimacy with her sister. Her throat clogged with all the news of the past year - including what she’d been doing with Jonathan the past week, right under her sister’s roof.

  “I’ve heard you’ve been up to something rather unconventional.” Horatia gestured to Audrey’s clothes.

  “Well, since when have you ever known me to be conventional?”

  “You mean apart from shopping for clothes and going to balls?”

  “How dare you!” Audrey cried out in mock defense. “When it comes to clothes, I am not conventional. I am outstanding!”

  Horatia looked down at Audrey’s attire, and she realized she hadn’t changed out of her waistcoat and breeches. “Yes, well, that is different.”

  “I… Yes, perhaps a little,” she admitted, her face flushing. “I’ve been learning to fight.” She waited for her sensible sister to cry out, but Horatia merely nodded. “You’re…not angry?”

  “Angry? Why would I be angry?”

  Audrey toyed with the embroidered surface of the bedding with a fingertip. “It’s not very proper, is it? Not proper at all, in fact. I was worried you would be disappointed in me.”

  Horatia giggled but then grew solemn. She embraced Audrey, bending her head so that their foreheads touched. “I believe we have all learned that propriety cannot save one’s life. When I was kidnapped and nearly killed last Christmas, do you know what I wished? That I knew how to fight.” Horatia said this with such ferocity that Audrey froze. Her sister was all sweetness, but even she had been tested by danger and found her skills to survive lacking. Relief filled Audrey. Horatia understood why her lessons mattered. Women had to stop becoming victims to the whims and desires of men.

  “So you won’t tell me to stop?”

  Horatia reached out and covered one of Audrey’s hands. “No. In fact, I insist you keep going. Learn everything you can. Lord knows you seek out trouble enough as it is, and no force on earth will ever stop you from doing so. The last thing I want is for you to go through what I did and have no chance of protecting yourself.”

  Audrey shivered as she recalled the frantic worry she’d felt that day. The day she’d almost lost both her sister and her brother to the same vile hand - the only people keeping her from being so totally alone in the world.

  Just then, Horatia’s face transformed into a mischievous and sly expression. “So you’ve been taking lessons from Jonathan, have you? How’s that coming along? Do you still want to marry him?”

  Yes. “No.”

  Horatia’s crestfallen
look told Audrey that her ability to deceive had improved. In the past her sister had always been able to see through her, but not this time. Something about that weighed her heart down with sorrow.

  “What happened? I thought you fancied him.”

  “I do.” Audrey glanced away. “But I do not think he has any interest in marriage.”

  “I forget,” Horatia said. “He is somewhat younger than the rest. The rest of his friends are over thirty years old, and they are just learning to enjoy settling down. Give it time.”

  Audrey squared her shoulders and faced her sister.

  “I’m nineteen. I have only a year or two more before I become a laughingstock to the rest of the ton. I had so many beaux that first season until Cedric became so boorish and scared them all off.”

  “He shouldn’t have done that,” Horatia muttered. “He ruined your chances of finding a nice young man to settle down with.”

  “Yes, he did.” Audrey wasn’t angry at Cedric for being overprotective, but she was frustrated.

  “He meant well, however. Losing Mama and Papa was harder for him that it was for us.” Her sister settled back against the pillows and sighed.

  Audrey curled up on the bed and leaned back against the pillows next to her sister. “How do you mean?”

  “Men are not like us. They have trouble with emotions. They don’t handle grief and loss especially well. They also don’t understand how to express their love very well.”

  “That much is true,” Audrey grumbled. “They express it never. All they seem to care about is lust.”

  Her sister laughed again. “Oh, Audrey, it isn’t always about lust. We forget that men are entitled to their passions.”

  “As are we.” She flushed at admitting this to her sister. “Yet I was chastened at every turn for my desires.” She remembered how furious Jonathan had been when he’d found her at the brothel attempting to learn carnal secrets. A quiet look of understanding passed between the sisters.

  “A good man will want a wife with an open and passionate side.”