Corey McFadden (26 page)

His voice was soft in her ear, and slowly, she turned toward him, still caught in a haze of pain and desire. She smiled into his eyes, touched by his concern. “I am fine, my lord. I am sorry to have distressed you. I did not know what to expect.”

He chuckled. “I should have known better than to think a little deflowering would set you back. Still, I would have been more gentle had I known. Or, perhaps,” he frowned, “I would have been gentleman enough to refrain.”

He was dazzled by the look in her eyes, a look which drew him into the green depths and swirled him around.

“I do not recall asking for your restraint, my lord.”

Their eyes locked, their naked bodies still intertwined, wet with sweat and passion spent.

Again he circled her with his arms, pulling her tight into the curve of his body, nibbling the side of her neck. “Molly, you are a beauty. I do not know what I shall do with you,” he whispered into her hair.

It was a bad note in an otherwise exquisite symphony.

Chapter Fifteen

She awakened long before dawn. She had dreamed long and deep about her parents. She had heard the sound of their laughter and felt their love surrounding her, holding her safe again. Then she had become aware of pain intruding on her dreams, pain which she fought to exclude from her consciousness, willing herself to stay ensconced in her dream. But it was no use. Up, up she was pulled, love and comfort receding behind her, pain and unease growing stronger until she recognized them for a waking reality.

She lay curled within his arms. He was asleep. The bed was warm and comfortable, the sheets, silky soft. She could smell his scent—woodsy, smoky, a touch of sweet brandy. Idyllic, poetic. She wanted to die of misery.

How had she let this happen? What on earth had been going through her mind as she had let him touch her, take her, cause her to forget all that she had been brought up to believe was right and good? Nothing. There had been nothing in her mind at all but the fire of his touch burning through all her precepts, leaving them ashes on the altar of her lust.

She had no one to blame but herself for this mess. No, that was not entirely true. She would see Cousin John damned for his part in bringing her to this lost state. Well, fine. They could be damned together, because there was no getting around the fact that she had asked for this, that she had wanted it from the first time she had seen the earl rise from his bath. She recalled no demurring on her part last night, not even a token resistance that she could use to salvage her pride. No, she had been wanton and free with her favors, and she would have the rest of her grim life to pay for it.

And to think she had been aghast that Amelia had given this man a long, soulful kiss. Amelia was a nun compared to herself!

Her head ached; her side ached. And who was she today? What new masquerade must she assume this morning? Molly, the town whore? She felt sick in her heart at having to start all over again with a new lie, to abuse this good man’s confidence yet again. And yet what alternative did she have? None, really. Maude Romney was dead, and for good or ill, she was now Molly Ramsey, wounded, penniless, soiled, but alive and willing to work for her living. It wasn’t a great deal worse than being Mike, except for giving up the freedom afforded to the males in this society, whatever their class. But it had been unnatural and difficult to play a boy all the time, and the day would have come when she was finally expected to show signs of a beard and a deepening of her voice.

What would she do now? Radford was right about one thing, as much as it hurt her to admit it. She could not stay here. Not for several reasons. It would be ludicrous for her to try to fit back into the smooth grooves of this household as a female servant. She knew Mrs. Formby would lack confidence in her, and she could expect problems, if not ridicule and censure, from the rest of the staff. And, of course, there was no getting around the real difficulty. She had made it impossible to stay here with Radford when she opened her arms to his lovemaking last night. As hard as it would be for a woman of her breeding and background to accept a role as servant for the rest of her life, it would be impossible to stay in this house, hoping for the occasional attention from the master, and standing by silently, feather duster in hand, as his beautiful, well-born ladies paraded through. And the day would come, she knew, when some gorgeous creature would arrive, amid boxes and trunks of expensive jewelry and rich, frothy clothing, and announce herself to be the new countess. No, it would not be bearable.

She felt him stir next to her, his arm tightening across her chest. It brought a blush to her cheeks to realize that he lay with his hand cupping her breast, his nakedness stretched the length of hers. Memories of last night flooded through her. Her breathing quickened as she recalled the feel of his hands exploring, caressing, moving ever downward to the place which ached again for his touch. As if her thoughts transmitted themselves to him in his sleep, his hand began to squeeze gently at her breast. She could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh. The very feel of it made her catch her breath as heated desire flooded again through her veins. She felt him nibble at her neck, his mouth trailing kisses down her throat. He sat up, his eyes warm and golden in the morning light.

“Good morning, monkey. I trust you slept well?”

He did not wait for her answer, moving to seize her nipple between his lips, his hand now tracing down her belly. Again, she could feel the pounding of her heart, the pulsating need between her legs. Perfidious body! This must not be. Pushing against his chest with her hands, she backed away from him, her passion at war with her shame.

He looked up, a question in his eyes. “It will not hurt again, monkey, I promise. I’ll go slowly, you’ll see.”

His hands had not stopped. He probed her gently and she was now hot and moist and ready for him. With a low moan, she surrendered to the feeling, moving against his hand as an unknown urgency built inside her. Her head slipped back, exposing the long creamy line of her throat and bosom to his hungry lips. As if of its own volition, her hand slid down, finding his rigid shaft. She squeezed her fingers tightly around him, surprised at how velvety soft his skin felt.

He groaned as he felt her touch, and moved against her hand. “Monkey, wait, you will undo me!” he moaned, yet unable to stop his thrusting against her. Quickly, he moved atop her, tenderly so as not to tug against her bandage, pausing to look into the depths of her green eyes. “Now, gently, slowly, you are wet, you are ready,” he rasped as he slid into her tight sheath.

Braced for a jolt of pain, Maude’s eyes flew open as, instead, a burst of pleasure flooded her. He was so large and so hard, and exactly what she craved to meet her urgent need. Faster and faster, he thrust himself into her, and her cries of ecstasy pierced the quiet room as she met him with hard thrusts of her own. At last, the sense of urgency built beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. Wave upon wave of pleasure coursed through her, tightening her around his shaft, as she cried aloud her release.

He watched her face, a savage pleasure twisting his own, then he moaned as his own pleasure ripped through him.

Spent, they lay still, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their bodies wet with the heat generated between them. Maude stared at the bed hangings, seeing nothing, her thoughts in turmoil. Never could she have imagined such pleasure. She was lost in the feeling.

“Lie still, monkey, I’ll be right back.”

She felt the bed rise as he lifted his weight from it. Turning, she watched him walk to the windows, a finger of sunlight reaching through a crack in the dark draperies catching the golden muscles that rippled across his broad back. Pulling open the heavy curtains, he flooded the room with brightness so that she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment against the glare. She heard water splashing in the washbasin. Unabashedly, she watched him walk back to the bed, her eyes lingering on his member, which had not quite returned to its flaccid state.

He smiled wickedly as he caught the line of her vision. “Not had quite enough, yet? I’m sure I can oblige if you give me but a few minutes.”

Unable to stop herself, she giggled, her face reddening as she realized she had been caught gaping. He sat down next to her and ripped back the sheet which she had pulled up over her when he had left the bed.

“Let’s have a look at you in daylight, monkey. I seem to recall you are a staggering sight by candlelight.”

Stifling the urge to cover herself, she watched as his eyes roamed appreciatively up and down the length of her body.

“The dawn does you homage, my dear. You are indeed beautiful.” He traced his finger gently across her belly, smiling as she twitched in reflex.

She blushed at his compliment, but felt pleased all the same. She had never considered herself beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, and these last few weeks, passing so easily for a boy, had done nothing for her self-esteem in that regard.

“I’ll warn you. This will be cold,” he said as he slapped a wet cloth down on her thighs. She let out a small shriek. Gently, he washed away the sticky wetness between her legs, his eyes rueful as he saw the evidence of her breaching. “There is blood from last night, monkey. That’s normal, in case you didn’t know.”

She turned away, suddenly embarrassed by his actions and stung by the intruding thought that she could not turn herself back into the virgin she was supposed to be.

“I’ve been thinking about what we should do,” he murmured. “You need to recuperate. It will take some weeks till your side is healed properly.” Absently, his fingers gently traced the lines of her bandage. “It will also take some weeks to grow your hair to an acceptable length for a female. I take it that you are done masquerading as a male?” His hand slid up to her breast as he spoke. “Don’t bind these up again, monkey. It’s such a waste,” he whispered huskily. “I would suggest that I send you north to my hunting lodge, tonight, if the doctor says you are fit to travel, and let you heal there. I’m sure you understand why you cannot stay as a servant in this household.”

He spoke kindly, but Maude felt a miserable chill from his words. He had taken his fill of her and already he was plotting how to get her neatly out of the way. She turned her head away from him and gazed at the light streaming through the large windows, unwilling to let him see the hurt that undoubtedly showed in her eyes. Well, she would not beg for his favors. She was in no position to bargain.

“In the meanwhile, we will spend the day together. I told Mrs. Formby to give out that I am ill and possibly contagious, so as to keep the servants away from the room. I have no intention of letting anyone know that Mike is really Molly. I’ll not have the entire
ton
laughing behind my back that I don’t know a full-grown girl from a boy.”

He gazed appreciatively at her chest. “And full grown you are, too, my dear. I don’t know how you managed to hide it from me so successfully. I think I’ll enjoy being trapped up here all day with you....” His hand was busy while he talked, following the line of her belly and hips, moving downward. “Although,” he continued, as if to himself, “I’ll have to send a messenger round to White’s to be certain that Sommesby has carried out his end of our agreement.”

Maude’s eyes flew open. Sommesby! How could she have forgotten? She struggled to sit up. “My lord...” she began.

“Under the circumstances, I think it had best be Edward, don’t you agree?” He smiled as his hand reached out to trail down her neck to her breast. “And do not bother to start on me about the danger involved. I have never been in any danger from that miserable old coward. Now I understand why you were so timid. You’re a girl, after all....”

“A girl!” she sputtered, wrenching herself up and wincing at the stab in her side. “A girl, indeed! In the first place, I am no girl, I am a woman. And in the second place you are nothing but a mutton head if you think there is no danger. Who do you think shot at us last night? Girl, indeed!”

His eyes narrowed as he regarded her thoughtfully. “What exactly would you know of who shot at us?”

“Oh, why don’t you go ask Hobbs? He’s a man. I’m just a silly girl!” She grabbed at the sheet and yanked it up to her chin.

“All right, mea culpa. Truce, monkey.” He held up his hand in mock surrender. “I didn’t say you were silly. I simply remarked that your being female explains why you were so apprehensive. The duke is a sneaking, shifty coward. He did not dare to accept my offer to meet him on a field of honor. No, his sort always chooses to turn tail and run....”

“Turn tail, did he?” she raged. “You great lout, the man who shot at us was none other than the duke’s footman, Tom! Now tell me what I had to be apprehensive about!”

He stared at her. “How do you know this?” he asked, his voice controlled.

“Because I recognized him, that’s how! He’s the one I told you about. Remember? The footman who was cheating all the other servants at cards! I could see his eyes over the mask. Cold eyes, he has, like an adder. I’d recognize them anywhere!”

With a snarling curse, he was off the bed, crossing the room to the linen press in three strides. He wrenched open the long door and began pulling out garments helter-skelter.

“Where are you going? What are you going to do?” Maude’s anger had melted into fear as she saw him seize a set of undergarments and ram his legs into them.

“Do? I’m going to stop behaving like the mutton-headed lout you called me, and settle this thing with Sommesby once and for all!”

He shoved his arms through the sleeves of his shirt so hard Maude heard the material rip. Swearing, he tore the shirt off and pawed through the linen press for another.

“I am going to his house and call him out. He’ll be dead by sunrise tomorrow. I cannot believe I was such a fool as to trust that twisted cheat.”

It was obvious that in his rage, he would have this shirt, too, ripped in no time. Maude slipped out of the bed and walked to him, placing her hand gently on his arm. “If you’ll wait a moment, my lord, I think you really do need some help with this.” She took the shirt from his hands and shook it out, then held it up for him to slip into, ignoring the pain that shot through her side as she raised her arm.