She was done taking orders? Good. He didn’t know why he’d given her any anyway. He’d been a fool, a fool to pass on this over and over again. He grabbed her and pulled her down, deepening the kiss with mindless greed.
She returned his hunger with her own. The sweetest little moan was pushed from her throat, and he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear every little sound she would make when he took her. She tasted so good he could eat her alive.
“Kent.” she whispered.
Blood pooled to his loins. She’d never said his name before.
She smiled against his lips. “I didn’t know your name until an hour ago. How odd is it that I didn’t know my own husband’s name?”
“You must not have been paying attention during the ceremony.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t. There was so much on my mind.”
“Don’t worry.” He stroked her leg through her dress. “I’ve not been your husband for long.”
She murmured her agreement and then kissed him again. “I like your name. I believe that is what I shall call you from now on.”
His body shook with need. “Lucy, we must stop.” He had so much control, but not with this. He knew his limits. If he touched her anywhere else…
She moved and settled herself on either side of his thighs, her weight landing close to where he wished her to be. “I don’t want to stop.”
Neither did he.
He pulled in a tight breath. “Have you done this before?”
“You know I have not.”
“Your first time….” Kent was scrabbling for words. “It shouldn’t be here. In a sitting room.”
“Why not?” she asked in a seductive purr. “I want you now. Right here. In your brother’s house.”
He cursed. And his control broke. “Get up,” he said.
“Why? I thought—”
“So I can lock the door.”
She smiled. “Oh. Good.”
And then finally, finally, she was obedient.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 8
* * *
Kent’s fingers grazed Lucy’s arm. Gooseflesh spread up her limbs. She pulled in a shaky breath. She was sensitive all over for some reason and not just with any man. A footman had helped her from the carriage a few minutes ago and she’d had no reaction.
Yet now that she and Kent were home, his touch….
She shivered.
“Did I hurt you?” He circled her until he was standing right before her. Concern was in his eyes.
“I already told you that you didn’t.” He’d asked after they’d consummated their marriage and again while in the carriage.
It seemed the wonder of that great experience had been embedded in her bones. She’d likely never be the same.
And Kent was different. She was surprised by the great change that seemed to have come over him. She’d never seen him so relaxed, his brows far from furrowed, his jaw without tension. Could one act cause all of that?
Yet, there was still something in his eyes she couldn’t penetrate.
He cupped her shoulders, and she placed her hands on his chest.
“May I come to your room tonight?” he asked.
She smiled in surprise. “You’re asking?”
He grinned. His hair was slightly mussed from their vigorous activity. When they’d left his brother’s drawing room once they were done, no one seemed able to meet their eyes. Not even his mother. Lucy wondered if they’d all known what they’d been up to. Likely so.
It had made her blush all the way to the carriage, but then Kent, with deft lips and hands, had taken her thoughts away and made her blush for entirely different reasons.
“I told you I wouldn’t force myself upon you.” Kent said. “I mean it. If you’d rather I not…” He began to drop his hands.
She placed hers on top of his. “No. Come. Please. I want you there.” She hadn’t forgotten her new plan. She would care for Kent and give him what he’d so lacked as a child. Perhaps, that would cure him of the darkness that rested within.
But also, she’d allow Kent in her bed, because she wanted him there.
His eyes narrowed but only slightly. “You know, this changes nothing between us, don’t you?”
She had no idea what he was talking about. This changed everything in her eyes. Even now, she could be carrying his child, though she doubted it.
“Lucy, I can’t love you.” His eyes begged her for understanding. “I’ve lost the ability to be that vulnerable.”
Oh. She finally understood. Of course, she’d known this wasn’t love, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. But there would have to be some rules. “All right, but so long as you come to me, you go nowhere else. I believe it to be only fair.”
He gave her a nod. “Very well.”
“I’m going to check on George. Spend some time with him.” she said. “Do you want to come?”
He shook his head and took his hands away. “You go. I’ve other things to look over. I’ll see you at dinner.”
* * *
Kent walked away and tried to calm the strange tingling feeling that crawled over his skin. He forced his hands not to scratch himself. He was slightly anxious, but he didn’t know why.
Actually, he did know why. Being with Lucy sexually had been extravagant, earth-shattering. It had released something within him and left him feeling as though it were not only his body that had been exhausted to completion.
His mind and even his soul had felt depleted in the end.
Yet, in some strange part of Kent’s mind, her invitation to join her and George had seemed far more intimate. Had she actually wanted him to sit with her and the boy as though they were a real family? He suspected he knew the reason that bothered him.
Lucy’s body was precious. She’d never been touched before him, yet somehow, he knew within his heart that George was everything to her, even of more value than her own person. She’d suffered greatly for his safety. She’d worked for many years just to spare him pain. He would not be surprised at all if the woman would willingly die for the boy.
Could she ever feel the same about him? No, it was best he remembered that. Yet, he’d still been touched by her offer. He suspected it came from a feeling of peace that seemed to surround them at the moment. She’d given him something sacred, and he’d not take that for granted.
He supposed…he should do something nice for her. In simple gratitude for her kindness. Yet, he was not very used to being thankful to anyone and had no idea where to start with showing a woman his appreciation. He’d ask Denhallow, he decided.
Thinking it a good reason to escape the house and keep himself from joining Lucy and George, he took his hat and started out. When he arrived at Denhallow’s, he found him in his office.
The marquess was not alone. The Duke of Astlen was there as well and their conversation looked tense. But they quickly schooled their expressions when he entered.
Kent closed the door behind him. “What’s happened?”
Denhallow grinned. “Nothing. How are you? I’m surprised to see you here. Come in.”
Astlen had been leaning over the table but was slowly retreating to his seat. He sat fully when Kent reached the chair next to him and grinned. “How is married life? And when are we going to meet the bride?”
Kent looked at Astlen from the corner of his eye. “You’ve already met her.”
“I’ve never met Lady Ganden before.” Astlen adjusted himself in his chair and turned to Kent fully. “Neither had I met Lady Lucy Newpark before that. The only woman I did meet was a maid called Harlot who refused to live up to her name.”
Kent narrowed his gaze. “What does that mean?”
Astlen smiled. It was the grin that women from all walks of life fell easily for. It made the corner of his brown eyes climb, giving him an exotic look. “I tried repeatedly to get Lucy into my bed, but when she refused, I told her to stop visiting. There was no point for her to continue to
offer to read to me when all I could think about was what she looked like underneath—” Astlen was out of his chair and across the room before Kent could fully come to his feet.
The duke laughed outright as Kent chased him around the room.
“Thought I should tell you myself before she revealed the truth of it.”
Kent had lost all his good humor within seconds. “You dared to touch what was mine?”
Denhallow stood, jumping between them. He held his hands up and Kent ran into them before coming to a stop. Even still, Denhallow strained to keep him from tearing Astlen’s head from his body. “Ganden, get a hold of yourself.”
“Don’t forget.” Astlen said. “I knew her before you did.”
Kent spun around Denhallow and went for Astlen…who was suddenly airborne and across the desk on the other side.
Kent was momentarily stunned by the move. He’d never seen a man so large be so swift and agile. Never had he seen one jump so high. “Well, with moves like that, I can see how easy it was for you to avoid marrying the lady you impregnated.”
Denhallow gave a long gasp, as though attempting to suck air from every corner of the room.
The duke’s scandal had begun only a week before he’d been kidnapped. He’d impregnated a woman named Lady Selina Gorm and, according to the world, he’d gone missing because he’d refused to marry her. But Astlen hadn’t run from his responsibility. Instead, he’d been taken by Mr. Goody. However, Lady Dorshea, Selina’s mother, was still under the impression that Astlen had run away and therefore would not reveal where she’d hidden her daughter.
Astlen had been hunting for Selina just as long as Kent had been looking for Lucy. It was a sour topic for the duke, but Kent was too angry to care.
Astlen’s face turned white and his shoulders fell right before he straightened. His expression became hard. “You had no right to bring her into this.”
“I had every right.” Kent said. “You attempted to touch my wife and only mentioned having done so to receive my wrath. Now you have it.”
Astlen sneered. “She wasn’t your wife at the time.” He shook his head. “And if you were not my friend, I would call you out this night for that claim you just made.” His chest rose and fell. His fist tightened.
“I don’t fear death.” Kent told him. “I don’t fear anything or anyone.”
Astlen grunted. “Of course, you don’t. Death is so far beneath you.”
“Enough.” Denhallow said. Then he looked at Kent. “Astlen only provokes your wrath, because he is jealous. You have clearly found your happiness and he has not.”
“I never said that.” Astlen shouted.
“You didn’t have to.” Denhallow replied. “Now, why don’t you gentlemen have a seat while I ring for tea.” He turned to do just that.
Kent positioned himself in front of his chair but didn’t sit until Astlen was seated.
The duke didn’t look at him. Was Denhallow right? Was Astlen jealous of his happiness?
And why did Denhallow assume that Kent was happy?
Was he happy?
After the afternoon he’d had with Lucy, he could definitely claim that he was…for the moment. But happiness was known to be fleeting.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 9
* * *
Deciding to not push his current happiness in Astlen’s face, Kent avoided the topic of the reason he’d come and asked instead, “What was being discussed when I entered the room?”
Astlen seemed as though he’d completely lost his ability to smile. “Well, since you’re clearly in a good mood at the moment, I see no reason we shouldn’t tell you. Do you recall what we spoke of the other night at my house? You mentioned the papers that we found Lord Maltby about to burn. The police had yet to return them to us, so I decided to go see about it myself.”
Kent recalled the conversation. He’d only remembered them himself after speaking to Lucy. While he’d been at Astlen’s, all he could do was think about her. He’d wondered what she’d been doing at every minute of every day. What did she think of his home? How would she improve it? He hoped her sense of style would not infuriate him but doubted he’d say a word if it did.
He admitted how much it pleased him to know she was home at the moment. His home. Underneath his roof. Perhaps even lying on the bed he’d bought for her.
Marrying Lucy had not been something he’d planned on a whim. As he’d said that day long ago, she belonged to him. She was his.
Mine to punish.
He frowned at the reminder of his intentions. He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to be punishing her. He wondered if giving her a gift was counterproductive.
He decided it wasn’t. Especially if he planned to take her favors again. He could look at whatever gift he gave her as payment. But that would make her the harlot Astlen had thought she was. Once again, he was angered at the thought. Lucy was many things but not a harlot. Her pliable and warm body belonged to no one but him.
He grunted and cleared his throat when his thoughts began to arouse him. “What happened with the police?” he asked as a way to distract himself.
“They said they’ve decided we’ve no right to read any of the papers.” Astlen’s gaze narrowed. “They said they do not belong to us. That they are private property and have already been returned to Lord Maltsby’s care.”
“Which means his son has them.” Denhallow said as he rejoined them.
Kent was starting to reconsider his visit to Denhallow’s residence. The last person he wished to be thinking about at the moment was Mr. Maltsby. “The man wants me to return my money to his bank. He wants us all to return.”
“That will never happen,” Astlen said. “Not even for the papers. There must be a way to get to them.”
“Do we need them?” Kent asked. He surprised himself by doing so. The papers would likely uncover more details about how the men had been taken unawares by Mr. Goody, but at the moment, Kent didn’t dwell on anything that would provoke the darkness that resided in his chest.
He’d arrived feeling better than he had in years. He wished to remain as he was.
Tea arrived and on its heels was Lady Kimberley Hayes, the Countess of Denhallow. She was a true beauty with black hair and dark green eyes. Her skin was flawless and her smile radiant as it landed on Kent. “Ganden. I didn’t know you were here. How is Lady Ganden? I wish to speak to her. You must bring her for dinner one of these days.”
Kent stood and bowed over the countess’ hand. “She is well. Thank you for the invitation. I’m certain Lady Ganden would enjoy your company.”
“I should like to come as well.” Astlen said. He’d stood when Lady Denhallow entered the room. “We should invite Fawley and Coalwater as well. No doubt they’d all like to thank her for the part she played in freeing us.”
When Kent thought of how Lucy had hit him over the head, it was easy for him to forget that she’d freed Denhallow, and thus set the freedom of the others in motion.
It had irritated him when he realized how easily the others were willing to forgive her for never freeing them during the years they were there. Yet Kent knew his anger was rooted in personal pain. He’d trusted her more than he’d ever trusted anyone, while they’d likely all lost hope in her ever setting them free.
Even if he could forgive her one day, he could never let that go.
* * *
Lucy was coming down the stairs the next morning just as Kent and George were returning from their early morning ride. Kent had not come to her room last evening.
She pressed on a smile as George ran to her but could barely concentrate on anything he was saying because of Kent. Finding it helped to look away from the earl, she focused her gaze on George and could finally understand his words.
“I rode him all by myself. Lord Ganden didn’t allow me to go as fast as I wished, but it was great! Also, I lost my boat in the river, but Lord Ganden said I can have another. A larger one!” George then ran from the room and
shouted something about telling Miriam about his time at the park.
Lucy struggled to arrange her words but managed to get them out when he started past her. “You didn’t come to my room last evening.”
He looked at her. Both his expression and voice gave her nothing with which to read his emotions. “I came in late. I didn’t want to wake you.” He turned to start up the stairs.
“I waited up for you.” she told him. It was the only reason she’d slept as late as she had. Usually, she’d have woke to see George away for the morning but had missed the opportunity completely because she’d been tired.
He turned to her. “You don’t have a carriage. We’ll go and get you one today.”
The change in topic made Lucy stumble over her words. A carriage was the last thing she’d thought Kent would buy for her…not that she’d thought he’d ever get her anything. But a carriage spoke of freedom, and Kent’s plan for her hadn’t seem like it would include much freedom. Aside from leaving to see the modiste, she’d not broached the topic on where else she could go. But her own carriage? With horses? It was a very costly thing.
“Where will I be taking this carriage?” she asked.
“Wherever you wish to go,” Kent said.
She frowned. “Wherever?”
“That is what I said.” He shook his head. “I assumed you’d be thankful for the gift.”
“I am! Thank you—”
“Be ready to leave within the hour.” He turned and didn’t stop again.
She watched him go and wondered when her confusion about her husband would end.
* * *
Lucy decided an hour later that there was no figuring out Kent. The last time they’d ridden in the carriage together he’d been warm, but today…
He was silent. Distant. He didn’t appear angry; instead, he barely engaged with her at all.
Neither did he look at her. It was almost as if yesterday hadn’t happened at all.
Yet she knew it had and there was no going back from it for her while it appeared that for him, it didn’t matter.
Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 13