by Aliyah Burke
“Can I stay here for the night?” Clara blurted out.
“Of course.” Her response fell without hesitation. “You are always welcome here.” Jo led her friend into the receiving room and to a sofa where they sat side by side. “What is going on?”
“My parents kicked me out.”
“What?” Rage swelled immediately.
“They refused to let me marry Royce and told me if I did I would be cut off. I told them I loved him and they told me to leave.” She slumped her shoulders in defeat.
Bastards. “What about your things?”
“Not mine. They paid for them so they are keeping them.”
“Does Royce know?”
She shook her head. “He knew there was tension already for my father has already told him not to come by looking for me.”
Jo blew out a breath and tried to calm down. Being blind with fury would not help her friend. “You need to send him a note. We will leave off the bit where you came here at night, alone.”
“I had nowhere else to go.” Clara’s voice sounded so small and helpless. “I do not know what I will do.”
“That is easy. You will stay here until the wedding. You know it is not a problem.”
The trembling started and she knew Clara would not last much longer without crying.
“Would you like something to eat?”
“No.”
“Let me help you to a room.”
Together they walked to the stairs. Clara’s head down while emitting slight whimpers. Jo found Trystan leaning against a wall not too far away. He arched an eyebrow at her but did not say anything.
It did not take her to long to get Clara stripped out of her dress and in the bed wearing her undergarments. They would have to have some things ordered for her tomorrow. Or would they?
“Sleep, Clara.”
“Thank you for being my friend, Jo.”
With a smile, she snuffed the candle and walked out leaving her friend to her silent tears. Closing the door behind her, she felt the anger surface again. Finding the housekeeper, she told her to give Miss Fields whatever she wanted and that she would be back soon. Then she went to find Trystan.
He stood in her father’s study near the window staring out at something only he could see.
“Everything okay with Clara?”
Apparently, he knew she was there however. “‘No. You need to come with me.”
He pivoted and stared at her. “Where would we be going?”
“To Clara’s house to get some of her things.”
His expression displayed his confusion. “You know it is dangerous for her to be here.”
“I know I am not letting my friend sleep on the street or become some whore merely because her family does not approve of her marrying Royce.”
His blue eyes narrowed. “Why the hell do they not approve of him?”
“I have no answer for that. All I know is they told her if she was going to marry him, she was no longer their daughter. She loves him.”
He grabbed her arm and propelled her to the door. “We will discuss this on the way.”
One of the things she loved about him so much was the way he would help people. Often without needing to know all the details. Like now. She shook off the feeling, love did not matter when it came to her and Trystan.
Tryst called for the carriage to be brought around and soon they were riding the short distance to Clara’s house. They walked to the door together and she watched him in her periphery.
How did any one man manage to move with such coiled power and grace? She did not know, all she knew was he was a pleasure to watch. Tryst reached out and knocked.
The butler opened the door and glanced at them both. “Yes?”
“Viscount Wilkes to see Viscount Field.” He handed over a card.
The butler seemed slightly taken aback but recovered quickly. “I will see if he is home.”
“Do that.”
“Let me do the talking, Jo,” Tryst whispered.
She held her tongue, well aware she would not keep her mouth shut. Clara was her friend and this was insanely wrong how they were treating her.
“He will see you.”
She began to walk after him but Tryst grabbed her arm and drew her back near to him.
“I mean it, Jo.”
She was sure he did. Made no difference to her. As they were led through the older home, she met the nosy stares of the other offspring who were still around. Why they were not at their own homes, she had no idea. Clara was, after all, the youngest of the four Field children.
At the end of the hall, she spied Clara’s mother, Prudence, watching them. “I will be out here,” Jo informed the man with her.
All he did was give her a small squeeze on the arm before walking after the butler into the study. She turned her attention to the woman standing there. Unsure she would be able to be calm she tried taking several deep breaths as she approached Prudence.
“I am here for Clara’s things.”
“She has no things.” The pinch-faced woman stared down her pointy nose.
“She has clothing and some personal items.”
“Which were provided for her before she shamed us.”
Huh. Look at that, she was going to have a hard time if she were to be able to control herself. Stepping closer to Prudence, she glared at the woman.
“Listen to me you stodgy upstart. I am taking some of her things so when she wakes up in the morning she will have something clean to wear. I know there are a few things she wants from her room which have sentimental value to her.”
“So she found a place to stay then?”
“Yes. Not that you would care, she is with me tonight then will most likely be staying with our friend, Duchess Haversham.” She gave a light shrug. “Not sure yet if she wants to stay there.”
“D…Duchess Haversham?”
“Oh yes, she is a lovely woman. Clara and I have spent many hours at her house. She is also a great admirer of Captain Bottomley, I am sure she will be disappointed to know that your family does not think him worthy.”
Prudence’s mouth moved but nothing came out. Jo leaned closer and pressed a finger into her chest.
“I want at least two bags packed now.” A slight pause. “Or I will get them myself.”
“You are not allowed up to her room.” There was not as much conviction in the woman’s tone anymore.
“Who is going to stop me? We all know I can get where I want and your staff is not all that good.” Jo whirled around and headed up the stairs. “Send a maid, a few maids, to help and I will be out of here even sooner.”
Two people stepped in her way only to leave immediately when she shot them a look she had seen Najja use numerous times. No wonder she used it, it worked wonders. Sure enough, three maids showed up almost immediately and began packing for Clara.
Jo supervised the packing, ensuring they threw in not just the old day dresses but some of her night ones as well. While they did that, she searched for her friend’s journals and added them to one of the trunks.
Jewelry and some books also went in the bag. When she could look around and find nothing that she believed held any special worth to Clara, she directed them to move the things downstairs. As she descended, she spied Trystan down there watching her.
His blue eyes sparkled up at her and she wanted to preen. She kept her features composed however.
“This should work for the time being. I think once she is with Duchess Haversham if there is anything she realizes she forgot she can come retrieve with some of the duchess’ men.”
She caught Trystan’s fleeting grin and Clara’s father’s grimace. Looking at the footman waiting, she snapped her fingers. “Move it, I do not have all night.” They glanced to their boss and Jo ordered, “Get those things loaded. He will not help you.”
She did not miss the look Clara’s father gave to Tryst who merely lifted a shoulder at him. The man did not argue with her statement and th
e footmen were shortly taking the bags and trunks out to secure on the waiting carriage.
Jo rode inside alone while Tryst rode up top with their driver. Back at her place, her people removed the things in short order and took them up to Clara’s room under strict orders not to wake her.
“You threatened them with Duchess Haversham?” Tryst asked as they walked in together.
“I did not want any trouble. What about you? I saw the fearful look her father gave you. What did you say to him?”
“Not much. Just how much Colin thinks of her as a sister and how much he respects Royce. That I know how much he is in the cups for and that if he made trouble I would have no problem buying all his debt and making him indebted to me completely, during which time I would make his life hell.”
Was it wrong she got a funny little tingle at his words? Perhaps, but she did and there it was. She wished she could have seen that exchange.
“Good night, Trystan.” She headed up the stairs only to pause and look back at him. “Thank you for helping Clara.” Whirling around, she hastened up the rest of the way to her room. She had to before she did something crazy or brazen like kiss him.
Trystan leaned on the railing and watched Jo disappear from view. Thanking the footmen for delivering the things to Clara’s room, he did his typical night check and, once he was certain all was secure, he too headed up the stairs. Like usual he paused by her door only this time he did not have the discipline to continue walking by.
Instead he reached out his hand and turned the knob, allowing himself access to her private quarters. One candle was lit by the bed and he saw her as she stood over the basin, washing her face.
The light brought out the myriad of colors in her thick hair. He wanted to touch it, touch her. And more.
“Jo.”
She stiffened but did not jump or scream. Nor did she throw a dagger at him. Reaching for a towel, she blotted her face dry then looked at him.
Shite! He was in so much trouble. She wore a white shift, which quite honestly did nothing except make him want to remove it. It was not anything overtly sexy and yet he found himself so hard it was painful. Her tan skin glowed nearly golden in the light and the purity of the white shift only highlighted her figure.
“Tryst.” The towel fell to the floor as she moved toward him. “You should not be here.”
He met her partway, still not allowing himself to touch her. Her intoxicating scent surrounded him and he swallowed hard to keep from tearing the material from her body.
“I should have come sooner.”
She lowered her lids, thick lashes settling on her smooth cheeks. “You should go.”
He reached out and dragged two fingers along one shoulder to her neck where he moved behind and cupped the back of her head. Her hair slid like silk over his skin. Bringing her closer he bent until his lips almost touched hers.
“Look at me.” His order no louder than a whisper.
She exposed those amazing blue eyes to him and he knew he was lost. Brushing their lips together, he kept the contact light. He licked, nibbled, and teased her until she finally opened beneath his pursuit.
Sliding his tongue in, he groaned with the pure pleasure of being back in her. She had this taste which he craved like some did opium, which drove them to dens of the stuff. Her moan hit him the way lightning split the sky, instantly and powerful.
He slid his second hand around her waist and flexed his hips against her, showing her what she did to him. She did not back away, no, if anything she moved closer. Reluctant to break the kiss, he still did. She watched him with passionate eyes, swollen lips, and a flush to her skin.
Lifting her back into his arms, he moved them to the bed. When he sat her on it, she opened her mouth to speak and he kissed her quiet. Right now, he did not want to fight with her. This was not the time. But she was not having any of it and pushed against him until he backed up.
“I want to undress you.”
Had he not already been hard her comment would have shot him there. He bit back his groan and stood up. She followed him and reached for the first pearled button on his shirt. He clenched his hands into fists so he would not touch her as she made her way down to the very last button.
Her hands smoothed the material away and off his shoulders. He rolled them so it fell to the floor. She touched his chest for a while, exploring, trailing her fingers over old scars, and making him want nothing more than to take command of the situation. He did not know how much longer he could do this.
“So many scars,” she murmured.
He did not respond. In fact, he was not sure he could.
“Boots off,” she ordered.
He sat on her bed and removed them quickly. She began working on his breeches and soon they were kicked to the side as well, leaving him in his smalls. When she reached for the waist of them, however, he stopped her.
Her eyes slashed to his. “I am only so strong here, hellcat.”
“I want to see you. Last time it was dark and I did not see you.”
Could he get any harder? Apparently, he could. Wiping away the sweat beading on his forehead, he nodded then stripped off the final bit of clothing he had, leaving himself completely naked for her to see.
Her eyes widened and her lips made a small “o” as she ran her gaze over him. There was no fear but amazement and impressiveness. He almost took a step toward her when she did it first.
Again, his breath hitched when she placed her palms on his torso. Nope, he was not going to last long. Not like this. Not with her looking at him as if she wanted to eat him.
“I think you are wearing too many clothes, Jo.”
She tore her gaze from his rigid shaft. “I am?”
He nodded and reached out for the pale red ribbon at the neckline of her shift. Slowly, he undid it and felt a throb in his loins as the material fell away allowing him a clear view of the tops of her breasts. Her skin still maintained the tan it had from all her time spent outdoors and he wanted to press his lips to them and go from there.
It was too big on her given all the time she had been on the run and had lost some weight, so he knew it would slide right off. Worked in his favor that way. Tugging the edges over her shoulders, he watched the white material pool at her feet. Then he was completely focused on the woman before him.
She was perfect. He stepped closer and drew her flush to him, her breasts against his chest and his shaft into her stomach. Tipping her face up he allowed their lips to meet again. This time she wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened.
“Tryst,” she mumbled into his mouth.
“So beautiful.” She whimpered and bucked against him slightly. “Let us explore.” Without giving her a chance to say another word, he placed them both on the bed, nose to nose.
“I want to do this in the day when I have the sunlight to see you.” He turned a bit and replaced one of her hands on him. “Explore me, Jo.”
He thought she would touch his scars more, or his arms. Something other than what she did. The feel of her fingers closing around him brought a gasp from his mouth as pleasure rocked through him.
She stilled. “Did I hurt you?” Her fingers began to loosen from him.
He covered her hand with his. “No, you did not. Touch me, Jo.”
“Like this?”
He gave a brief example of what he wanted her to do and groaned again as she began fisting him. Christ he wanted to shove deep into her and never leave. How the hell he was going to get through this without embarrassing himself he had not any idea.
Her grip was driving him insane. Settling his hand on her hip, he stroked it as he angled his own hand and drifted his touch down over her slit.
She stiffened, her hand stilling as her eyes grew wide. Tryst held her gaze as he moved through the brown curls and dipped a finger through her lips into her wetness.
“Ohh.”
In and out, he moved his finger, doing his damndest not to think about how snug her hea
t was around him. He watched her eyes and loved the depth of her response, she was so expressive.
He stopped and she looked at him, frustration in her gaze. “You stop, I stop.”
She had not even realized her hand had dropped away from his length. Jo reached out without hesitation again and reclaimed him. Soon it was himself who had the hard time concentrating.
Her hand was strong and she slid up and down his shaft with the perfect blend of speed and grip. Lust pounded him and he longed to rip the situation from her and do what he would with her. Something held him back. He loved lying here, watching her as she pleasured him and got pleasured in return.