* * *
Ross did not sleep. He couldn’t. Making love to her had turned the world on its head and he was still trying to sort out exactly how he felt about it.
He had always enjoyed sex. It was a pleasant way to pass the time and after a healthy bout of it he usually felt invigorated. But, frankly, the woman in his arms had disarmed him. Granted, she was his first virgin. That might have something to do with it. But the peculiar ache around his heart had got worse and he was overwhelmed with the most enormous feelings of tenderness and possessiveness now that he had had her. Already he wanted her again.
Prim had been no meek virgin. She had writhed and moaned and undulated against him with such untutored but such honest passion that he had lost his head somewhere in that pond. Even now he was not certain that all his wits had returned. For want of a better word, he was stunned. And perhaps bewitched. He was certainly besotted.
She had been so trusting it had humbled him, and it was very satisfying to know that he had been her first. No other man had ever seen her or touched her as he had. He suspected that she would be his last lover. He could not imagine wanting another woman ever again, and hell would freeze over before he allowed her to lie with another man.
She stirred against him and smiled sleepily. ‘Hello, Prim,’ he managed to whisper, sounding reasonably normal, and kissed the top of her head.
She rolled onto her back and stretched like a cat in the early evening sunshine, giving him a totally unencumbered view of her nudity. ‘Hello, yourself...’
She smiled seductively up at him and he realised that the stretching was a deliberate ploy.
‘There is nothing Prim about you,’ he muttered, running his palm over her breast. ‘I should have realised that the first time I spied you swimming in this pond.’
Her lovely eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘The first time?’
Ross chuckled and kissed her. ‘I followed you here once.’
Her mouth hung open in shock, so he kissed her nose instead.
‘Don’t look so outraged. I did warn you that I am not a gentleman.’
‘Obviously not,’ she replied, half smiling, half still aggrieved. And then she kissed him in forgiveness. ‘I suppose ladies do not swim naked in broad daylight either.’
‘I think I might be in love with you, Prim.’
The words had just tumbled out, but he realised that he meant them. He was not risking his heart—he had lost it to her long ago. He had no control over how he felt about her and there was no point in pretending otherwise.
Her blue eyes blinked back at him. ‘I think I might be in love with you too. And that terrifies me.’
The ache near his heart lessened. ‘Well, that is a good start.’
‘But I still feel awful about the way I reacted last night.’
‘You hit a sore spot and I reacted badly. My relationship with my father is...was...complicated.’
She rolled on her side and faced him silently. Perhaps Reggie was right and women did want to be confided in. If they were destined to be together she would expect it. He exhaled and gathered her close to his chest so that he would not have to see her eyes when he spilled out all the sordid details.
‘My father had little to do with us when I was growing up. He was a forger and a drinker. When I was younger he turned up from time to time like a bad penny...’ she chuckled at his inadvertent pun ‘...but after my sister was born we saw him less and less. By then he was in with a very bad crowd. When he wasn’t drunk he gambled. Badly. Mum used to say that he would bet the shirt off his back if anybody would take it. He regularly lost the rent money, and more often than not we all had to sleep on the streets. When I was about fifteen, Mum kicked him out for good. Things improved then. She got a job serving in a tavern, and I was old enough to bring in some money too—that’s when I started to load cargo at the docks. I don’t think I saw him again for years.’
Those years had been tough but happy, he remembered.
‘Then one day he turned up again. We would have nothing to do with him but he kept loitering, kept asking for money. Sarah, my sister, was thirteen by then, and she always was a pretty thing. By then I was busy trying to better myself, and I did not spend as much time protecting my family as I should have.’
Prim snuggled against him and rested her hand on his heart. It made him feel a little better, but he would never truly forgive himself for his absence during that awful time.
‘My father was in a lot of trouble then—not that we fully understood it at the time. It turned out he had been passing counterfeit money to the particularly nasty owner of a gaming hell to pay the huge debts he had racked up there. The owner gave him a week to find real money to repay those debts or face death. He asked us for money and we sent him packing. One night Mum came to the docks in a state. Sarah had gone missing and somebody said that she had been seen with my father. I searched everywhere but couldn’t find her. But I found him. He was roaring drunk, as usual, and claimed he had not seen Sarah at all. I knew he was lying. He was happy. And he was never happy so I knew something wasn’t right. I got frightened. London can be a dreadful place for a young girl on her own.’
Ross wondered if he should censor the rest of the story but decided against it. It was best if she knew the whole truth.
‘I grabbed him and shook the bastard. I kept asking him where my sister was, but he just kept laughing and telling me that it was none of my concern. He repeated the same phrase over and over again. “She’ll be home tomorrow night—they’ve promised”. In the end my temper got the better of me and I beat it out of him.’
He felt bile rise at the memory. He had nearly killed his father when he had found out the truth.
‘He had sold Sarah to a brothel.’
Hannah’s eyes widened. ‘What happened?’ Without thinking she wrapped her arms around him. He looked so utterly distraught she wanted to protect him from the memory more than she wanted to hear the truth.
‘It was a special brothel. High-class. Any and all perversions were catered for—at a price. Fancy gents paid big money for virgins—the younger the better. My father had sold Sarah’s virginity for one hundred pounds.’
At her sharp intake of breath he kissed her.
‘It never happened, thank God. I broke in and stole her back. Fortunately the Viscount who had paid for her had not yet arrived, and the brothel keeper had locked her in one of the bedrooms.’
For the first time during the tale she saw a smile touch his lips.
‘My sister is blessed with a fine pair of lungs. I could hear her screaming and carrying on a mile away, so it was easy to find the room she was locked in. Sarah was shaken, but thankfully unharmed.’
‘Thank goodness you found her.’ Hannah kissed his cheek and he sighed.
‘After that I went to the magistrate. I couldn’t risk my father doing something like that again, but I didn’t want to drag Sarah’s name through the mud either. So I told them all about his forging. He was arrested and tried. I testified against him—so did Mum. We celebrated when he was sentenced to twelve years’ transportation. I can’t say I felt anything when I heard that he had died of typhus on the ship. If that makes me a bad person then so be it.’
Hannah kissed him hard. ‘You are the best man I have ever known. I am glad your father is dead.’ To think of that young girl, abducted, frightened and potentially violated, made her blood boil. ‘What sort of a man does that to his own daughter? Now I understand why you have them living in Kent.’
‘They are safe there,’ Ross said quietly, turning to face her. ‘It has made it easier to do what I’ve had to, knowing that they are safe. I always intended to make something of myself—right from a young lad. I did not want my entire life to be as hard as those early years were, but what happened gave me more of an incentive to do it quickly. And probably spurred me on to aspire to more. Bad things like that do not happen to people with money. Money gives you power and security. It gives you control over your o
wn destiny. I started dabbling in buying and selling. I told you I have a knack with numbers—that helps—and I have an eye for things that sell well. It has taken about eight years to get where I am now. You don’t think badly of me?’
His green eyes were more vulnerable than she would have thought possible.
‘Never again,’ she promised, ignoring her niggling doubts about Tremley’s gambling marker and rolling on top of him to stare lovingly down into his face. ‘I have never met a man like you.’
This time it was she who made love to him. He needed her understanding and absolution and she wanted to give them to him. She kissed and explored every inch of his body with her hands and mouth while he watched her lazily through hooded eyes and let her do whatever she wanted. He taught her how to ride him and she did so shamelessly, feeling beautiful—buoyed up by the way his eyes devoured her and his body trembled under her touch.
When she felt him pulse inside her she cried out joyfully, not caring if she was heard. All that mattered was that she was in love and was loved in return.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Well after the sun went down the pair of them crept back into the house, giggling like naughty children, and rolled around in his big bed enthusiastically until just before dawn.
Exhausted, Hannah slept until mid-morning and the wretch let her. When she finally did awaken the late morning sun was streaming through the window.
She opened her eyes to find him propped on one elbow and smiling down at her with a very satisfied expression on his face. The tangled sheet barely covered her legs, and she realised with a start that she was displaying everything to him.
Instinctively she grabbed the sheet’s edge and dragged it over her naked body, only to have in unceremoniously snatched away.
‘Too late, Prim,’ he said with a triumphant smile. ‘I have already seen everything. If you recall, I think I have kissed most of it too. Just to be sure, I should probably do it again. It’s important to be thorough.’
Before she knew it his lips had descended on to hers.
‘Wait,’ she said, staying him with her hand. ‘There is something important I need to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but we got a little carried away.’
The distinct sounds of the maids going about their usual morning duties floated through the bedchamber door. It was like being doused with a bucket of ice water.
‘What time is it?’ Hannah sat bolt-upright in alarm. ‘Everybody is up and about! I should have been up hours ago.’ In a blind panic, she scrambled off the bed and scurried around the room, looking for her clothes.
‘Don’t worry about all that. I hear your employer is very lax about such things. Come back to bed.’ Ross was reclining against the pillows, his hands braced under his head, proudly displaying another impressive erection and looking like sin.
‘I can’t,’ she wailed tearing her eyes off him reluctantly. ‘I have to get to work. No matter what I do, everyone will know that I have spent the night in here with you!’ There were tears of anguish in her cornflower eyes. ‘What is everyone going to think?’
Seeing that she was genuinely upset, Ross groaned but sat up. She was hardly a fallen woman, after all, because he had already made up his mind to marry her. Assuming she would have him, of course. But after last night he was hoping that tiny detail was nothing more than a technicality. However, he did understand that she would not want their dirty linen washed in public.
‘If I create a diversion you should be able to sneak out and get back to your own room,’ he suggested calmly. ‘I’ll go downstairs and pretend to be looking for you. When you finally make an appearance you can claim to have been unwell. People will understand, especially as you were so obviously upset yesterday. Nobody needs to know that you have been thoroughly ravished and completely ruined.’
He could not help feeling smug about that.
This seemed to placate her, so he pulled on a fresh shirt and combed his hair while she dressed herself.
‘Will you come swimming with me later?’
Ross saw her lips curve at the question. ‘I would like that.’
He kissed her loudly and smiled down into her lovely face. ‘Come on, then—let’s break you out of jail.’
She hovered close by as he poked his head out of the bedchamber door. ‘The coast is clear.’ He turned and winked at her and watched, amused, as she dashed out of his bedroom and disappeared behind one of the servants’ doors while he engaged one of the maids in a rambling conversation about the weather.
He found Carstairs and Reggie at the kitchen table, eating. ‘Have you seen Prim?’ he asked as he carved off a huge slice of bread for himself. ‘I cannot find her anywhere.’
He should be on the stage, he thought smugly, so convincing was his delivery. Both men exchanged an amused look, which he ignored. It was only when Cook slammed a cup of tea down in front of him and sniffed her disapproval that he realised something was amiss.
Cook pinned him with her glare. ‘Well, as she is not in her room—which was the first place I checked this morning, when I wondered the very same thing—I was rather hoping you might be able to answer that question for me.’
She was looming over him with her hands planted solidly on her wide hips.
Ross acted ignorant and regarded the woman with concern. ‘Prim is missing? Where on earth can she be?’
It was worth a try, but he could tell by her disgusted snort that she did not believe him. All thoughts of a career on the stage vaporised when she swatted him around the head with a towel.
The ghost of a smile played on John’s lips as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. ‘You saw her last night, Reggie. Where was that again?’
Reggie did not bother reciprocating with subtlety. ‘I believe, Captain, I last saw her kissing Ross on the landing—just before he carried her into his bedroom.’
Oh, dear, thought Ross guiltily, Prim was not going to like that. By the ferocious look on her face, neither did Cook.
‘Don’t look at me like that.’ He gave her his best roguish grin and held up his hands to ward off another threatened swat. The towel hung poised in Cook’s chubby fingers. ‘We both lost our heads.’
And all of their clothes. That thought made the corners of his mouth turn up.
Ross lowered his hands in defeat and grinned at her boyishly. ‘There is no need for you to be so protective. I promise. For once my intentions are completely honourable.’
‘You mean to marry her?’ Carstairs dropped his cup with a clatter and blinked. ‘Good grief! I never thought I would see the day. Congratulations, old boy.’
‘It is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you, I can assure you, but I find myself rather smitten.’ Ross inadvertently rubbed the spot on his ribcage that refused to feel normal. ‘But I have not asked her yet. I know women like a man to do that properly.’
He wrapped one arm around Cook’s stiff shoulders cajolingly.
‘I don’t suppose you would rustle up a delicious evening picnic for me? Think how romantic that would be. The sunset, meadow flowers, your lovely food...’
The towel bludgeon dropped and she began to smile a little. ‘Don’t think that I have completely forgiven you, you scoundrel, but if you are going to make it right... Well, I suppose I could make a nice picnic.’
Ross grinned soppily at John and Reggie. ‘I would be grateful if you two refrain from telling Prim that you know about last night. She would be mortified. She likes things to be proper.’
‘Mum’s the word,’ said Reggie, rising.
As soon as he had shuffled off John spoke softly. ‘Are you completely sure that she is not up to no good?’
Ross sighed and sat down opposite his friend. ‘Prim is no spy, John. We both know that. I think that I am a pretty good judge of a person’s character, and Prim is kind and caring. She is not capable of true deception. I just know it.’
‘Good grief!’ John glared at him in disgust. ‘You are just smiling to yourse
lf—all wistful and sighing—it is quite nauseating to witness. You look positively lovesick.’
Ross smiled sheepishly in return and heaved a winsome sigh for comic effect.
‘You’ve got a visitor, Ross,’ Reggie said, poking his head back into the kitchen. ‘He’s waiting for you in the hallway.’
Both Ross and John stood and followed the big man out, intrigued.
‘Tremley!’ Ross strode towards him with his hand outstretched. ‘What are you doing here?’
Viscount Tremley met him halfway and returned his friendly handshake enthusiastically. ‘I did write to you and tell you I would come—but as I am on my way to London I thought I might beg lunch from you rather than going to an inn. Especially as you were so gushing about this place when I last saw you in town. It has been very lax of you not to offer me an invitation to visit sooner. I thought we were friends.’
His amused eyes scanned the newly decorated hallway before they rested back on Ross.
‘I must say, it does look very impressive.’
Ross beamed back with pride. Thanks to Prim, the hallway did now look impressive. So did the morning room and a goodly number of the upstairs bedrooms. It was just as well that he had had the good sense to delegate all of that to her—especially as she would soon be the mistress of this house.
‘I shall give you the guided tour later. Come into my fancy new morning room. Reggie—get some tea, would you?’
A sixth sense made Ross turn around. He just knew that she was nearby, and saw the back of her golden head at the top of the staircase.
‘Prim! Come here. I have somebody that I would like you to meet.’
She glided down the stairs, smiling, looking lovelier than he had ever seen her in a pretty pink dress that he knew she had donned just for him.
‘Viscount Tremley, may I present...’ His voice trailed off as Hannah’s jaw dropped and she stopped mid-step, halfway down the stairs.
Tremley grinned and rushed up the stairs to greet her. ‘There are no need for introductions. We are already acquainted.’ Tremley grasped Prim’s limp hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘It is lovely to see you again, Lady Hannah.’
That Despicable Rogue Page 20