House of Sin

by Lacy Danes

  Adam pulled Miss Grey tighter to him. Her chest heaved as if she had no room for anything but tears. Allowing her body to release the emotions this day had pressed upon her was the only thing he could do. He had learned that sometimes a woman simply needed to let tide of emotions out, then things would settle and be fine.

  He was, in many senses, relieved it was him to have her tears rather than one of the masters, the doctor, or Sibila.

  Sibila had deceived him. He should have talked to Miss Grey more before…well, before introducing her further to the house’s ways. He should have known better than to let his desire invade his thoughts.

  Miss Grey was not eager to learn of futter. No woman would cry as such if she had been.

  His teeth clenched tightly. This was beyond anything he had thought Sibila capable of. Being of easy virtue was one sin, but this…this proved she cared for no one. Not one whit. Who was he kidding?

  No one here did.

  They all would use this pure, intimate gesture Miss Grey had bestowed on him to tangle her and bend her to their needs. He could not allow that. His stomach churned with unease.

  Her body stilled against his chest, and she sniffled. He gently rubbed her back, waiting for her to pull up and away from him as he had seen his mother do after a fit of tears.

  “I am sorry, Adam.” Her voice, a muffled sound mixed in humid puffs, licked against his neck.

  His neck twitched and arched, wanting that moist caress from her mouth to slide up as the echo of her release still clamored in his ears. His lips curled up against her hair. What a quandary. Here she needed to apologize, and he only wanted her more. A scoundrel, he was, for not speaking to her first. No better than the likes of them. He gritted his teeth. “There is no need to fret, Miss Grey. This day, I am certain, has been something of an emotional storm.” It was proving to be so, even for him.

  She sniffled again, her hands fisting against his waistband along his sides. “I simply had no idea this is what I would be doing when I arrived. My parents both worked here years ago, and being their daughter secured me this position with Mr. Waterton.”

  Ah. A tremor raced from her hands resting on his hips down through Adam’s bottom. He forced his gaze out at the lawn and away from the subtle movements of her soft body so he could concentrate on her words. The man who had changed this house forever stood in the clearing, staring out at the pond. Her mum had no idea!

  The new Lord Gregor was a scoundrel of extreme vulgarity. By the time her mother knew of the changes, it would be far too late for her to save her daughter’s soul.

  She sighed, and her chest rubbed against his. He closed his eyes, unable to concentrate on anything but the woman in his arms. Soft, feminine innocence.

  Sort this out, Adam.

  He inhaled a breath that held no comfort. The scent of roses brought a hazy longing for days slowly bedding this woman as she screamed in pleasure again and again. Not what you should be thinking about. Had he fallen so far down the debauched path?

  She swallowed hard against his shoulder. Lord Gregor would have her, and so would his sons.

  In many, many unsavory ways.

  A chill raised all the hairs on his neck. Damn. He needed to know more about why she remained here after learning what this house was. No woman who cried in his arms deserved what Portage Place brought forth. Especially seeing as she had held on to her virginity. She couldn’t want this.

  “Your mum is in service, then?” Adam’s throat tightened in dread of what the masters would expose Miss Grey to.

  “Was. At Chesterfield Hall. The home of the Marquess of Brenton before he closed it up.” Her cheek rubbed against his shoulder in a gesture that shone warmth and need on him as if the sun warmed his skin on a rainy day.

  His muscles relaxed into her. This was the most intimate gesture he had experienced in this house in the two years of his service. Surprising. He had not realized until this instant that he missed simply being needed…needed in the most simple of ways, to be held and to hold someone in more than release. His throat closed on his breath. He tightened his muscles around her and swallowed the lump lodged in his throat. “Was?”

  “Yes, she and my father have both passed on six months past. A carriage accident.”

  She was alone. “Do you have any other relatives, Miss Grey?”

  “No.”

  Gently laying the side of his face against the soft cap atop of her head, he inhaled a broken breath—someone needed to protect her—and moved his hand around her shoulder. The scent of her arousal still clung to his fingers and mixed with her tears now staining the cloth of his livery. His heart clamored, willing him to soothe her, to take her and make all her fears go away. To be the man of morals he used to be.

  Impossible. You are here for Devlin, no one else. You cannot save her and be what you must here. No matter that it would be best if she left. You need to remove her, for your sanity and her own good. Do what you must. He gathered his wits and blew out an exaggerated breath.

  “Miss Grey, there is nothing in nature wrong with anything you have done or seen here. Even though society has made the act into what they call sin.” Her muscles stiffened against him as if the word alone caused her fits. His fingers gently rubbed her back and shoulder. His will soothed her, when he could not let his words. “Sin bothers you, Miss Grey. Well, sin is what this house thrives on.”

  Her chest stopped moving against his, creating a physical barrier of air between them.

  He pressed on, determined to make his point. “Have you ever had longing, Miss Grey? Sinful things you have desired with a man?”

  She carefully nodded against his shoulder.

  “We all have those longings, and here in this house every longing you have or someone else has about you is permitted without their or your permission. Tell me, Miss Grey, what is it you long for with a man?” It was not to be standing here in this hell with him, for that he was certain.

  They stood motionless for five ticks of the clock as he waited for her reply.

  She softly cleared her throat. “I want to marry…” Her fingers gripped the fabric of his coat. “…a man I love, and to explore those sinful longings with him,” she said with conviction.

  All the hairs on his arms stood. Foolishness. He held in a laugh, but his chest heaved against the strain. She wanted lust and marriage? He had thought that possible once. But then…

  His father had left his mother.

  His mother had slept with Lord Gregor.

  Lady Gregor had taken a lover and run off.

  Marriage and passion were oil and water. They pooled around each other, but never made anything that caused cravings.

  Besides, someone always hurt or left the other, following a lust that was not for whom they wed. A lust that was not for whom they loved.

  “That is a nice fancy, Miss Grey, but not one based in reality. Especially in your position here.”

  She swallowed hard against him…twice.

  His words were hard to swallow, indeed. The truth sometimes was. “A dream I am sure that is difficult to give up.” Maybe her parents had been passionately happy together, but if they were, they were a sideshow oddity. She had to realize that. Life in their station had no room for love.

  “A dream I won’t dismiss, Adam,” she whispered and sniffled again, rubbing the side of her face against his brown coat. “I am here. I know what is required of me. That does not define who I am.”

  “No. Indeed, it does not.” His suspicion was confirmed. She did not belong here. “Love and marriage may be possible, Miss Grey, but lust and marriage I have never seen. Lust is what this house thrives on. Please consider what I said. And if you want your dream, leave here now.” He held in a cringe as his voice rang harshly even to his own ears. He fisted his fingers in the fabric of her skirt, wanting her to stay next to him even as he told her to leave.

  He didn’t want to see her nature crushed. Why he cared so much for her happiness when they’d just met, he
didn’t know. But he did, and his gut had never been wrong yet.

  She pushed up and away from him. Her jaw set and her eyes glimmered with tears. “I am not ready to leave here.”

  He fought with the muscles of his arms not to shake her. “Oh, yes you are, and will, Miss Grey. With certainty I can tell you in this house the men will want nothing more than to take pleasure from you. They will not wait for your permission. They will not offer you love or marriage. They will offer lust, forced lust. Nothing more.” They were harsh words she needed to hear. He would protect her as much as he could. He could not let her stand alone here, but if the master or his sons asked for her, she would have no choice but to do what they asked or lose her position, and he could not stop them. Or could he? No, not without jeopardizing his last words to his mother. He promised he would watch over Devlin, his half-brother. He could not put that in jeopardy.

  “Sibila said she would show me what I needed to know to survive here.” She pulled back farther and stared at him with hardening green eyes. “And all you can tell me is to leave?” Her jaw set higher, and her lip wobbled. “Sibila will help me find my way through all of this.” She pulled her arms back, trying to free herself. His hands tightened on her.

  Damn Sibila for getting inside her mind. Sibila would ruin her at her first opportunity to get what she wanted. “You would learn more about the trials of life and untamed lust from that slag, that is for certain, Miss Grey, but you won’t obtain the dreams you mentioned.” He glanced again out at the lawn and the master. Dread bubbled hot and poisonous through his gut as protection and anger fought to gain possession of him. Relax, Adam. She will eventually understand. She cannot be your concern. He fisted his hands. “If you stay, this house will, without fail, eat your heart for supper.”

  Miss Grey tilted her head to the side, her chocolate-colored brows pulled tight as she frowned. “Adam, I—”

  “Shhh. There is no need to say more. You simply don’t belong here. Leave.” This was the correct thing for him to do.

  “I have no other post, Adam.” Miss Grey shook her head. “I have other dreams that don’t involve men. Dreams of survival. Dreams of being in service. How dare you assume to know me by asking one question.” She turned from him, wrenching her arms from his grasp, and picked up her linens. “I have chores to finish.”

  “Miss Grey.”

  She paused and glanced back at him. Her eyes questioned him from beneath her long, mink lashes. In the sunlight, her tears dried in streaks down her flushed face. His chest tightened.

  He reached up and trailed his fingers into the hair on the back of her head, turning her toward him. His thumb glided along her tightening, damp cheek. “I wish I could do more for you, Miss Grey.” Damn, she was so irresistible. She will be torn apart here.

  He leaned in and pressed his lips to her plush, frowning ones in a breath of longing for more of her innocence, and regret that he would never have her himself. Couldn’t. His life was here. Here among this crazed debauchery. His lips moved desperately, soft and caring. Tender.

  She sighed—a pleasurable sound—into his lips, then with her crossed arms pushed hard against his stomach and away from him. His breath caught in his throat. Her green eyes shimmered up at him, filled with a storm that would come and he could not stop.

  She set her chin and turned away, clutching the now-wrinkled linen to her stomach. “Leave me be, Adam.” The words bounced off the walls of the hall and into his soul as she walked away.

  He closed his eyes and sighed. Stubborn, foolish girl. He shook his head. The master would destroy her. He destroyed everyone’s lives he touched.

  He opened his eyes, strode along the glass hallway back toward the stairs and glanced down.

  The master and his sons still stood on the lawn below, smiling and talking. They had no doubt enjoyed the view he had created for them. He frowned. He wished he had not so publicly dallied with her. They would be eager to bed her now because of it.

  Truly capital. He shook his head again.

  He needed to place a small deception in their ears to grant Miss Grey additional time to realize she needed to leave. Time for her to escape before she was torn apart from the inside out. He would head to them now before one of them caught her making their bed.

  He took the steps down to the main floor two at a time. After turning the corner, he cut through the laundry and out the side door, which led to the lawn and carriage house beyond. This path would place him in their view as if he were simply heading to accomplish more of his day’s tasks.

  He stepped out onto the stone stair and turned in the direction of the carriage house. Keeping his head down, he strode with purpose. The fresh summer breeze cooled his heated skin, and his stomach pitched, knowing what he was about to do. He loathed lying. He hated even more lying in front of his brother. Why was he doing this for a woman he didn’t know?

  “Adam,” Devlin called from the grass. His rust-colored hair, the same as Adam’s and their mother’s, glistened in the sun. “Who was the young thing you had so lavishly on display for us?”

  Adam slowed and turned toward the men. “She is the new housemaid,” he stated from four strides away. No matter how wrong her being here was, he needed to portray himself as he always had. They would see his desire for her if he did not. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” The hairs on the back of his neck stood in a wave of agitation. She was more than that.

  He squared his shoulders and acceded to what was right to do. She needed time. Time it appeared he was willing to risk all he had built here to attain. He stopped before the three men and inclined his head. “My lord, and masters.”

  Lord Gregor stood to Adam’s left, dressed in a pale blue jacket and high-collared shirt, his hat at an angle. He leaned on his carved cane as if bored by the conversation and everything else in life. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Adam at all. This was what he wished Miss Grey never to experience. Indifference from anyone. She deserved better. Just as his mother had.

  The eldest son and namesake Christon stood in a light tan coat and striped trousers in the center. He reached up and scratched the hair of his sideburns with his index finger and stared directly at Adam.

  Devlin lingered an arm’s length from the others, smiling brightly as if nothing of consequence ever deterred him from happiness. For all the indecency that Portage Place was, Adam was grateful for that one small gem. His brother was well. He had grown into a fine and decent young man, despite all the debauchery.

  He smiled back at Devlin. Their mother would be happy Adam watched out for him. Somehow, Miss Grey appeared to need him more than Devlin did, now that he was grown.

  “From down here, she was a phoenix taking flight,” Christon stated, flatly challenging him with his unflinching stare.

  Adam turned his gaze on him and fought with himself not to defend her. If he did, he would only draw attention to himself and her.

  Christon’s green eyes narrowed, cold as the snow on a winter day.

  Why was he so upset? Adam smiled back at him without saying a word. Another disagreement with Lord Gregor, no doubt.

  “She might prove an interesting fuck later tonight.” Christon smiled and his eyebrows rose as he silently waited for more explicit information from Adam.

  That smug smile would soon be a fated frown. Adam refused to give more information on the delicacies of Miss Grey. He didn’t want to.

  Christon rubbed his fingers up the lapel of his light brown linen coat.

  He was the one son Adam could not understand and would never wish to be. The next Lord Gregor. He would have much to live up to…or undo when Lord Gregor died. No matter what, Adam needed to respect and answer him. He straightened his shoulders.

  “You did an excellent job displaying her for us, Adam, and oh, the sounds…” Christon closed his eyes as if still savoring her delicate crescendo.

  The sound of Miss Grey thrashing against the glass as she pleaded her desires crawled unwanted back through Adam�
��s ears and hammered about. His chest tightened. It was a sound…so delightful… He wished it not to leave his memories anytime soon. He wished he alone had heard her. Do what you came here to do, Adam. Gain her time. He shook his head in an attempt to dampen the unwanted effects and dispel her voice from his mind.

  “Adam?” Devlin said with a cheery smile causing the freckles on his cheeks to squish together. He had their mother’s smile, and every time he grinned, Adam thought of her and how she had begged him to watch her poor boy.

  Those smiles relieved the twisting tornado of worry that Adam had not done well by their mother in watching his half brother. He would do anything to protect Devlin, including throwing himself fully into the culture of this house, be damned what people thought of him.

  Enough. He is happy here. You should be happy then too. Do what you came out here to do, because Miss Grey won’t be happy here.

  Time to break the eagerness to bed Miss Grey with a crack in the ever-blooming flower of her virginity. He braced himself for the known consequences and slid his hands behind his back.

  “One caution, I fret.” He frowned and glanced at each of the men. “I tore Miss Grey’s cunt. She will require a few days to fully heal.” There, it was done. He had not taken her virginity, but he has loosened her. He hoped they would not touch her now. Not for two or three days. “I am sure you saw her tears of pain afterwards.”

  “Too rough with one who is not yours to be rough with, Adam?” Lord Gregor snapped without hesitation.

  Adam slowly turned his attention to him, knowing punishment would be dealt. “My apologies, my lord.”

  From his shorter stature, Lord Gregor stared up at Adam with dark, punitive eyes that twitched. “She will not be spared her duties, and neither shall you. Hands out.”

  Adam grimaced.

  It is worth it, for her.

  His hands would hurt only for a day, maybe two. This act would gain her as many days, he hoped. He slid his hands out in front of him and braced himself.

  “Palms up.” The master’s thick rosewood cane rose into the air.

  Adam turned his palms up and steadied his features. The wooden cane with gold inlays whistled down. He exhaled as the rod cracked his palms hard.