by Lucy Monroe
Lucas had been so intent on Yardley that he was unprepared for Lady Preston’s attack.
She flew at him, her fingers curled in animalistic claws. “You bastard! You’ve ruined everything. I won’t let you get away with it this time!”
He turned in time to watch in shock as his wife jumped up from the couch and swung her fisted hand in a wide arc, catching Lady Preston just below her right eye. “Leave Lucas alone, you villainous harpy!”
Irisa’s punch was hardly that of a pugilist, but it knocked Lady Preston off balance. She fell back, landing with a thump in the chair she had been occupying. The chair’s legs could not stand against the sudden pressure and they broke. Lady Preston tumbled to her knees on the floor.
Irisa looked at Lucas with eyes round as saucers and swayed on her feet. “I’ve never hit anyone before.”
Lady Preston tried to stand, but her skirts were wrapped around her legs. Ravenswood stepped forward and unceremoniously lifted her to her feet, keeping his hands locked firmly on her upper arm as he did so.
She glared at him, her eyes slitted like a venomous snake. “Let me go, you great beast.”
Irisa took a menacing step toward Lady Preston, ignoring the fact that she obviously was having trouble standing on her own. “I’m going to hit her again, just see if I don’t.”
Lucas wasn’t letting Irisa near enough to the bitch to risk harm. He caught her arms and pulled her toward him, but it wasn’t enough to have her against his side. He had to wrap both arms around her and press her body as close to his as he possibly could. Even that wasn’t close enough.
He wanted her in his bed, naked and under him. The awful cold fear that had plagued him since learning of her disappearance would not be banished with anything less. He tried to speak, but could not say anything. He held her and let his body absorb the miracle of her nearness. Something he had not been entirely sure he would ever feel again.
Irisa’s arms wrapped around him in an equally tight embrace. “I knew you would come.”
“I was almost too late.” The prospect of her near miss made his chest tighten with emotion. “That twisted blackguard was going to hit you.”
She shuddered. “I know. It was part of Lady Preston’s plan to ruin your reputation and mine.”
“I heard.” Raw fury filled him and he looked away from the top of his wife’s head long enough to meet Lady Preston’s gaze.
She must have read the message in his eyes because she flinched and renewed her struggles against Ravenswood’s hold. The giant man gave her one hard shake and said something low that put a look of terror on her face and stopped her defiant moves.
“Where’s Drake?” Irisa asked, her voice muffled by Lucas’s body.
“Outside with the guards and our former underfootman.”
He’d tried to send Drake home with his wife, but Mrs. Drake insisted on staying at Ashton House until Lucas brought Irisa safely home. Lucas hadn’t argued too much, realizing that he was bloody lucky Irisa’s stubborn sister hadn’t insisted on coming along on the rescue. He assumed if the thought had occurred to her, she would have.
Irisa nodded. “Just before I fell asleep from the draught he gave me, I remembered seeing him in the corridor the day I snuck into the tower room to be alone. He’s been in on it all along, I think.”
“Yes. He’s one of the servants that travels with me between the country and Town.”
“That is how he was on hand to lock Irisa on the tower roof,” Ravenswood said, his tone implying the faithless servant would do well to disappear and stay that way.
“He was also the one who found out about the Langley’s recent marriage and told Lady Preston about it. It appears that he and one of the Langley maids had gotten rather close.”
Irisa tightened her hold on him. “Pansy told me. That’s how we discovered your visits to Miss de Brieuse’s home.”
Lucas had surmised as much. “I should have realized something was up then. My servants are trained not to gossip about me. They know it could mean their instant dismissal as it would have for him if I had not been sidetracked by other goings on.”
“You are not omniscient, Lucas, no matter how intelligent you are. You could not have known simple servant’s gossip hid something so underhanded.”
He unwound Irisa’s arms from his torso and pushed her a few inches from his body, needing to see her face. She looked fragile and pale.
“Are you all right?”
She actually smiled. “Yes, now that you are here. I knew you would find me, Lucas.”
Her trust warmed places that had gone cold at her disappearance.
“But what are we going to do with them?” she asked, indicating Lady Preston and the still unconscious Yardley. “They are too full of trouble to be ignored or set free without some measures being taken to insure your safety. She’s quite mad in her hatred of you, my love.”
“I suppose I could kill Yardley in a dawn appointment.”
Lady Preston gasped a protest, which Lucas ignored. However, he paid close attention to his wife’s shaking head.
“I think not. That would require you fleeing the country and unlike Mama, I do not fancy an extended tour of the Continent.” Then Irisa’s eyes lit up with familiar mischief. “I have just the thing.”
Whatever it was, he hoped his wife’s idea would not take too much time. He wanted to get her home and in his bed. “What?”
“Did you know that you were responsible for the death of Lady Preston’s fiancé? It was during the tail end of the war with Bonaparte. He was a spy.”
Lucas felt chills laced with guilt invade him. It was because of him that Irisa had been tormented and put at risk.
Irisa’s voice continued in a musing tone. “I do not think Lady Preston would be pleased for the rest of the ton to discover that she was once engaged to an enemy of the Crown.”
“No one will believe you,” Lady Preston snarled.
Irisa looked at the other woman, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think not? You are mistaken to underestimate the influence of The Saint and his wife amongst the ton. Not only are others likely to believe me, but they will care. Once they hear how you helped your dear fiancé in his endeavors, every drawing room door will be closed to you. The ton can be forgiving about some things, but the war is too fresh in everyone’s mind for them to ignore the taint of treason on a lady’s character.”
“I did not help him.”
“We have only your word for that, Lady Preston,” Irisa said, her voice hard.
The older woman curled her lip. “Do you think I care if you tell this silly story about me? I am not so concerned about what the ton thinks as your saint.”
“Ah, but it is quite a different thing to be a notorious widow known for her fast behavior and a former spy. Every drawing room will be closed to you, every member of the Polite World will scorn you to your face.”
Lady Preston’s face paled, but she tossed her head with disdain. “I don’t care.”
“You will.” Irisa sounded quite sure of it and Lucas was inclined to agree.
His own mother had been much like Lady Preston, though nowhere near as malicious. While she had courted notoriety, her enjoyment in life was reliant on society’s tacit acceptance. She needed her playground in which to play. Lady Preston was no different.
“You say you did not help him, but gossip will say something quite different,” Irisa said relentlessly. “Scandalmongers will eagerly lap up the creamy dish of your ruin when it is offered by those with heavy influence in the Polite World. It will be your word against my husband’s title, my brother’s title and let us not forget my brother-in-law’s grandfather, the duke.”
“What do you want?” Lady Preston demanded.
“Many members of the nobility are finding a tour of the Continent beneficial now that the war has ended. Some have even decided to live in permanent exile. I believe that you will be one of them, Lady Preston. So long as you stay out of England, your secret is sa
fe.”
“I see you are not exactly a stranger to the art of blackmail yourself, Lady Ashton.”
Irisa shrugged. “One does what one must.”
“And I must find myself content with life on the continent?” Lady Preston asked.
“If you wish to keep your secret safe.”
Lady Preston glared at Lucas and then at Irisa. “I’ve grown tired of London anyway. Narrow minded people pursuing tedious habits. A change of scenery will be welcome.”
“Lucas?” Irisa asked.
“Yes?”
“I think your man of affairs should see about the sale of Lady Preston’s estates in the north. We do not want her to be tempted to return eventually.”
“I’ll see to it.”
Lady Preston said nothing, attempting an air of bored disdain for Irisa’s plans, but her complexion had not yet regained its normal color.
“What about Lord Yardley?” Irisa asked.
Lucas glowered at the man who was just beginning to stir. “Are you quite sure I cannot kill him?”
“I believe we should be fair-minded about this, my love. Can we not offer him the same alternative?”
“Life on the Continent, or death in England?” Lucas asked, knowing from the stiffening of the man on the floor that Yardley had heard him.
“Yes. I think that will do nicely.” She turned to her brother, who had remained silent throughout the conversation. “What do you think, Jared?”
Ravenswood’s smile was chilling. “I think, brat, that you have an excellent plan, but the Continent is not quite far enough away for my tastes. I prefer to see them set sail on one of Drake’s ships and disembarked on an island in the West Indies. Yardley is only a baronet. If his estate is not entailed, we can see to its disposal as well. Regardless, I believe I will personally escort them on their little venture from England.”
Lucas liked how his brother-in-law’s mind worked. “Excellent.”
Yardley pulled himself to his knees and then woozily to his feet. “See here. I’m not going to some island in the West Indies populated by savages.”
“I’m not going to the West Indies!” Lady Preston’s façade of calm was beginning to crack.
“Drake’s ships also dock in America. We can set you ashore there,” Ravenswood offered magnanimously.
“Or I can kill you,” Lucas said to Yardley, knowing that his eyes and tone showed just how serious he was.
The bastard had wanted to beat Irisa. He clearly did not know how lucky he was to be breathing this very minute.
Lady Preston looked at Yardley, her self-confidence cracking around the edges. “Our lives are forfeit. I am willing to begin anew. There is nothing for me here, not with Lady Ashton’s threats hanging over my head.”
“You expect me to come with you?” Yardley asked.
Lady Preston shrugged. “It is your choice, but if you stay you face a worse fate then the destruction of your standing among the ton.”
Lucas could not help but wonder how long this particular partnership would last beyond boarding the ship.
Yardley sat heavily in a chair, his head dropping into his hands while his elbows rested against his knees. “I will go.”
Drake brought the guards and underfootman in and it was decided that enforced sea duty on separate ships in Drake’s company would adequately compensate them for their part in Lady Preston’s plan. Drake would make sure that Timothy’s fate included sufficient punishment as he had acted against Irisa directly. Drake left with Ravenswood to set their plans in motion, while Lucas took his wife home.
As she walked past Lady Preston, she stopped and reached out to point at the rapidly forming black mark on the other woman’s face where she had hit her. “How unfortunate. It looks like you’re going to have a bruise. I hope the other passengers aboard ship don’t think Lord Yardley gave it to you.”
***
Irisa cuddled against Lucas in the carriage on the way home, still too much under the influence of the sleeping draught to want to share in conversation. Lucas did not appear to mind. He seemed content to hold her on his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her. When they reached the house, she found Thea and Pansy together in her bedchamber, the door locked from the inside.
“Your husband was not sure who to trust in his household. He would only allow me to wait here for you if I remained in Pansy’s company with your door locked,” Thea explained while hugging her sister fiercely when Irisa asked about it.
Irisa returned her sister’s embrace and then hugged her quietly crying maid. “Lucas can be very protective.”
“I didn’t do a very good job of protecting you, little one.” Lucas’s eyes looked tortured with an emotion Irisa found quite familiar. Guilt.
She crossed her arms and gave him a very firm stare. “It is not your fault that Timothy drugged and abducted me, Lucas. None of us suspected a household servant was part of that harpy’s plot.”
“So Timothy was the culprit?” Thea asked.
Pansy cried out. “Oh, that blackguard. I’ll never trust an underfootman again. I won’t.”
Irisa patted her maid’s shoulder comfortingly. “You need not take it quite that far, Pansy. It was Timothy’s villainous character, not his position in the household that made him untrustworthy.”
“Yes,” Lucas said, responding to Thea’s question and ignoring the by-play between Irisa and her maid, “Lady Preston arranged for him to apply for a position in my household in order to act as a spy. He was responsible for both Irisa’s misconception that I kept a mistress and for the discovery of her parents’ recent marriage.”
“He kept Lady Preston apprised of developments and was in the perfect position to facilitate my abduction,” Irisa added.
“But why kidnap you at all?” Thea asked.
Irisa repeated Lady Preston’s complete plan. She was somewhat prepared for her sister and Pansy’s exclamations of horror, but Lucas’s increasing fury frightened her a little. He had not heard all the details earlier and going over them now was having a disastrous effect on his temper.
“I should have killed him.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “All is well. I am unharmed and we have very neatly seen to their disposal.”
His glare turned positively feral and she took a step back. “Lucas?”
“He was going to hurt you.”
Yes. She knew that and so had Lucas. Why did she get the impression that the full extent of the situation was making itself known to Lucas only now? “Are you all right, my love?”
He made a visible effort to control the rage she could sense in him. “I am fine. It is you I am worried about.”
“I am quite all right, but a bit tired to tell the truth.” She yawned and quickly covered her mouth. Very tired.
Thea stifled her own yawn and asked. “What did you do with Lady Preston and Lord Yardley?”
Lucas explained their plan.
Thea’s eyes narrowed. “I hope Jared sees them disembarked on a deserted island without hope of rescue.”
“I wouldn’t mind if ‘is lordship saw fit to throw them overboard, myself. I wouldn’t,” Pansy said.
Irisa understood her sister and maid’s bloodthirsty attitudes, but was too fatigued under the lingering influence of the sleeping draught to work up any strong emotion at the moment. All she wanted was to curl into bed with Lucas by her side.
Thankfully her brother-in-law arrived within the hour, having left the villains under guard in one of his warehouses and Jared in his rooms preparing for a sea voyage. Drake took Thea home, promising to fill in any details Irisa and Lucas had left out of their explanation. Irisa sent Pansy to her room, wanting no one’s help preparing for bed than that of her husband.
Lucas returned from seeing Drake and Thea to the door. He walked into her bedchamber, his expression so intent that she felt her body tingle in awareness.
He didn’t stop walking until he stood directly in front of her. “Bloody hell. Irisa, I never want t
o go through another night like this one.”
She desperately wanted him to hold her. “Me either.”
With an untamed groan, he swept her into his arms and carried her into his chamber. Pansy had started the fire and it lent a gentle glow to the room. Without bothering to light a candle, Lucas began undressing.
Irisa was not capable of doing likewise, feeling both mesmerized by his concentration and the effects of the sleeping draught. When he stood naked, his manhood proudly erect, he reached out and began removing her clothes as well. She stood like a doll, allowing him to do so without the slightest resistance or assistance.
Once she was as bare as he, Lucas lifted her in his arms again and placed her gently in the center of his bed. He then came down on top of her, covering her entire body with his own. They both shuddered at the impact of their flesh touching from shoulder to ankle.
“I love you, Lucas.” They were the only words worth saying at the moment.
Lucas groaned. “Say that again, my love.”
“I love you, Lucas. I love you. I love you. I love you.” She kept repeating it as he explored her body with his lips, showing her his feelings without words. He began at her temple, dropping soft kisses and licking her skin with small darts of his tongue. By the time he reached her breasts, she had forgotten her tiredness and writhed under him.
“Yes, my love. Please, kiss me there,” she pleaded with him as his lips hovered above her almost painfully erect nipples.
Then he lowered his mouth and suckled first one and then the other. The pleasure bordered on pain and her head tossed from side to side on the pillow. Then he released her nipple with a small popping sound only to move to the underside of her breast, licking, kissing, stroking with his tongue and nipping with his teeth. As that devilish mouth moved down her stomach and played erotic games with her belly button, her thighs spread of their own accord.
“Lucas. What are you doing to me?”
Even when they had made love before, he had not made her feel these things. Her entire body felt drawn tight like the string of a bow. She restlessly tried to touch him, but he was moving lower and then his mouth was there. Right where she most desired it to be. No. She could not want it. Not there. Surely, he didn’t mean to kiss her there. But he did it. With his tongue. She screamed and tried to close her legs, but his head was in the way and the feel of his hair against her thighs more tantalizing than anything she had ever known.