“I've been looking forward to this.” His hot gaze roved over Ambrose's body. “Where should Miss Ross sit in order to appreciate us both?”
Ambrose nodded and indicated the chair Jack had just vacated. “Miss Ross?”
Emily obligingly sat down, a look of intense concentration on her face as Jack lightly ran his hands over Ambrose's flanks. It didn't take long for Ambrose's cock to respond to the caress and to the thought that Emily was watching him. He sighed as Jack knelt behind him and wrapped his arm low around Ambrose's hips, his fingers curling around the thick base of Ambrose's shaft.
“Wet already?” He bit Ambrose's shoulder, making him jerk. “Me too.” He raised his voice. “Do you like this, Miss Ross? I'm going to oil my fingers and slide them deep in Ambrose's arse to prepare him for my cock.”
Ambrose locked his gaze on Emily's as Jack followed through on his words. Would she be shocked to see him on his knees like this, bent forward as Jack eased the first thick inch of his cock deep in his arse?
He groaned as Jack rocked against him, surprised at the size of Jack's cock and his instant response to it. His own shaft was wet now with pre-come. As if in a dream, he saw Emily lick her lips and stare at him. God, if only she would taste him . . . could he ask that of her, did he dare?
Jack slid deeper, one hand braced on Ambrose's hip until he was fully sheathed inside. His other hand played with Ambrose's pierced nipple, tugging on it and then lowering his fingers to circle the crown of Ambrose's dripping cock. He found the slit and penetrated it with his finger until Ambrose moaned and bucked his hips.
“Would you like to taste him, Miss Ross?” Jack invited, and Ambrose shuddered. “Take him in your mouth while I fuck him?”
As if in his most erotic dream, Ambrose watched Emily nod and slowly walk toward the bed, her tongue wetting her lips.
Jack gripped Ambrose's cock firmly around the base and drew it away from his belly. “Here, Miss Ross.” He squeezed hard and bit Ambrose's ear. “I won't let you come too soon. I want us all to enjoy this.”
And then he started thrusting and Ambrose forgot everything but the dual sensation of Emily's tentative mouth on him and Jack's far more vigorous penetration. It was as if he was caught between heaven and hell, held captive by the two opposing forces of his need forever.
Jack's grip on his cock tightened, and his stroke became shallow. “Miss Ross, you might want to step back.”
Ambrose hated the loss of her mouth, but Jack gave him no time to think of it because they were both coming hard, he all over Jack's fingers, and Jack deep inside him.
When he came to his senses, Jack kissed him full on the mouth and then climbed off the bed and started to get dressed.
“I'll wait for you in the kitchen, Miss Ross.”
Ambrose nodded at him. “Thank you.”
Jack sauntered toward the door. “You have no idea how much you have to thank me for, Ambrose, but I'll be sure to remind you at a later date.”
When Jack closed the door behind him, Ambrose turned his attention back to Emily, who was twisting her hands together and staring at the floor. He put his breeches back on, took the seat Jack had vacated by the fire, and held out his hand.
“Did I disgust you?”
She shook her head and he was aware of a great sense of relief. “You were . . . beautiful.”
“Come here.”
She came toward him, and he reached out and put her on his lap, drawing her close against his bare chest.
“What's wrong, love?”
“Why should anything be wrong?” Her voice was a little muffled against his skin, but clear enough to hear. “Perhaps I'm just tired of being the only member of the Delornay-Ross family who isn't allowed to join in the fun of the pleasure house.”
“That's not it,” he said quietly. “I know you, Emily. Why this urgent need to rid yourself of your virginity?”
She shuddered and moved even closer to him. He bent his head and breathed in her warmth, content just to hold her if that was what she needed, and he suspected it was.
After a long while, she kissed his collarbone. “You are always so restful. I've always envied you for that.”
“I learned patience the hard way. It is not something I'm proud of. I've often wished I could be more like you.”
She raised her head to look at him. “Like me?” She bit down on her lip. “Sometimes I feel as if I don't belong in the Delornay-Ross family at all.”
“I believe in families the youngest child is often overprotected.” He smoothed her disordered brown hair away from her face. “They love you very much.”
She pressed her face against his chest and he felt the heat of her tears against his skin.
“What is it, love?”
She shook her head, so he just continued to hold her, aware that his body was responding to her nearness in a predictable fashion, and equally determined that she shouldn't be bothered by it. For some reason he felt like he had failed her. Eventually she stopped crying and looked up at him again.
“I thought anyone would do. But when it came down to it, I realized I didn't want just
anyone
to bed me for the sake of it. I wanted you.”
It was pointless to ask her to explain her earlier antics when he knew that at last she was speaking the truth. The least he could do was be honest back.
“I've always loved you, you know that,” he said. “But I've always been aware that the gulf between us was too wide. I owe your family so much. Taking their daughter from them would have seemed like the final insult.”
She sighed. “Why would you be taking me away from them? I suspect they all know how I feel about you, and no one has told me to stop loving you, only that you do not love me.”
“I love you too much to risk placing you in harm's way. If your family chose to disown you, I would have no money, no home, and nothing to offer you.”
She sat up so that she could look at him properly. “I don't care about those things.”
“That's because you have never had to do without them.” He shuddered. “I can never forget how it feels to be at the mercy of the weather, of foraging for food in the gutter, or fighting for my life. I find myself unable to imagine going back there, and I could never allow you to join me.”
“Do you really think my family would disown me if you asked to marry me?”
He met her despairing gaze. “I don't know.”
“Because you are too afraid to ask?” She climbed off his lap and found her trousers. “Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on you. I haven't asked my father directly either.”
“What are you doing?”
“I'm getting dressed so that you can take me home.”
A curious sensation of loss made him struggle to form a sentence. “You no longer want me?”
She clutched her coat to her chest. “Oh, God, I want you, but not if you aren't prepared to fight for me.” She put on her coat and headed for the door. “On second thoughts, you don't even need to take me home. Jack Lennox is waiting for me in the kitchen.”
16
E
mily made her way down the backstairs to the kitchen, stumbling down the wooden stairs in her haste to leave Ambrose behind. She knew he'd follow her, and she was terrified that if he caught her and held her, she wouldn't be able to stop herself responding to him. Her body still throbbed from his attention and she wanted more, wanted so much more it frightened her.
When she burst into the kitchen, Jack immediately stood up, his expression alert.
“Are you all right, Miss Ross?”
Behind her, she could hear Ambrose coming down the stairs. “Can you take me home?”
Jack's gaze swept her disheveled appearance and her bare feet. “Don't you want to change first?”
“I don't have time.”
But it was already too late; Ambrose came through the kitchen door still wearing only his trousers, his bare chest heaving.
“Don't leave like this, Emily.”
Emily hastily buttoned up her trousers and straightened her shirt. She couldn't look at him. She just couldn't.
“
Emily
.”
Keeping her gaze lowered, she moved to stand by Jack's side. “Please, take me home.”
“Of course,” Jack murmured. He stripped off his coat and draped it around her shoulders.
The kitchen door opened again, and Emily closed her eyes as Christian appeared. His gaze took in their frozen tableau.
“What in God's name is going on here?”
He didn't shout, but Emily still shivered at the cold fury in his tone. Jack put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and Ambrose took a hasty step toward her.
Christian held up his hand. “Stay where you are, Ambrose. Mr. Lennox, why did you take my sister up to the main floors of the pleasure house?”
Emily raised her chin. She refused to be discussed as if she wasn't present. “Because I asked him to. He didn't know that you had decided I wasn't allowed up there.”
“I didn't decide that. Your father did, and it is he you will have to answer to for your conduct.”
Anger flourished deep in Emily's chest. “If that is true, what right do you have to berate me?”
Christian raised his eyebrows. “The right of the person who owns this business.”
“There are plenty of women of my class up there. I saw them.”
“But they aren't related to me, and you are.”
“Would it make it different if we were strangers?”
“That's irrelevant. Philip would have my head if he knew you'd been up there viewing the rooms with Jack Lennox.”
“Oh, it is far worse than that.”
“Indeed.” Christian's chilly gaze flicked to Jack. “Have you ruined my sister?”
Jack shrugged. “It depends how you define ruined.”
Christian moved so suddenly that Emily gasped. In an instant, he had one hand wrapped around Jack's throat.
“Do not speak disrespectfully of my sister in my presence ever again. Do you understand me?”
Ambrose touched Christian's shoulder. “He didn't ruin her. I swear it.”
Emily stormed across to Christian and punched him as hard as she could in the arm. “Do not talk about me as if I am not here! And perhaps I
wanted
to be ruined. Have you thought of that?”
Christian released Jack and looked down at her, rubbing his arm. “I'm sorry. Perhaps ruined is the wrong word. A woman shouldn't be judged by her virginity, or lack of it. I of all men know that.”
“Thank you.” Emily took a deep breath. “Then may I go home now?”
“Not quite yet.” Christian turned to Ambrose. “I assume you interrupted them?”
“I did, but . . .”
“Thank you for that, at least,” Christian said. “I'm glad that
one
member of my staff kept his wits about him.”
Emily tensed as Ambrose stepped forward, his intention to confess quite obvious. She couldn't let him risk everything for her at this point, when she was no longer sure where she stood with him. What if Christian lost his temper and ordered Ambrose from the house? She might never see him again and she refused to be held responsible for him losing his home again.
“Mr. Delornay, it wasn't quite like that, Iâ”
Emily interrupted him. “You
did
intrude upon us and Mr. Lennox came down to the kitchen to wait for me to get dressed. There is nothing else to say about the matter.” She glared at Christian. “I'm still a virgin, Ambrose is still the perfect employee, and Mr. Lennox is, despite all appearances, a gentleman.”
Jack studied her for a long moment. “And as a gentleman, I am quite happy to present myself to your father tomorrow and ask for your hand in marriage.”
Emily couldn't help but gape at him. “You don't need to do that.”
All at once she regretted interrupting Ambrose. If she'd let him confess his part in her evening, would Jack have dared to say such a thing? Or was Jack simply trying to provoke Ambrose into declaring his feelings?
In desperation, she finally looked at Ambrose, who seemed as dumbstruck as she was. He met her gaze and she saw it then, his anger and his ridiculous desire to be noble and set her free.
“Perhaps that would be for the best, Miss Ross.”
The bitter sting of betrayal shook through her. She turned to Jack and took his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Lennox. I'm sure my father would be
delighted
to see you.”
Ambrose turned on his heel and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.
Christian let out a soft whistle. “I do believe you have upset my manager, Emily.”
“If he is upset, he knows what he needs to do. Good night, Christian.”
Emily tucked her hand into Jack's and headed for the outside door. A hackney carriage already awaited them and she allowed Jack to hand her into it. As soon as they pulled away, she shrieked at him.
“What on earth made you say that?”
He shrugged. “I thought it might persuade Ambrose to declare his feelings for you. Why did you keep interrupting him anyway?”
“Because I want him to ask my
father
for my hand in marriage, not my half brother! Christian never reacts quite as one wishes him to. He might have dismissed Ambrose on the spot, and I couldn't have that on my conscience.” Emily buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my goodness, whatever have I done?”
Â
Richard waited to see what Violet would say to him, his body tense, his mind braced for her denial. And what would he do then? Walk out and leave her? Abandon his newly renovated dreams of having her for his own? He was a fool, but there was nothing he could do about it.
She licked her lips and stared up at him. “Jack knows about Mr. Brown.”
“That he is your lover?”
“No, that I am supposed to be in league with him, and that I have agreed to kill my own twin. Jack is quite happy to go along with my plans.”
“He would be,” muttered Richard.
“Don't be too hard on him. He expressed just as many doubts as you are probably going to do, but in the end, he trusted me to make things right.”
Something inside Richard relaxed. “Why did you hatch such a complicated scheme?”
“Isn't it obvious? It was the only way I could think of to bring Mr. Brown to justice.”
“At the risk of your own life?”
“When I agreed to the plan, I thought I had nothing to live for.” She hesitated. “I thought you were lost to me.”
He absorbed that truth with a glad heart. “And now you know differently.”
“I know nothing, only that I had to lie to you again and that sickened me. But I had no choice. There are too many lives depending on my keeping up this masquerade.”
“Have you met Mr. Brown?”
She bit her lip. “I don't think so, but as he hides behind a false name, I suppose I might have met him at some time.”
“As might I.” Richard studied her resolute face. “What is even more interesting is why my contact was told you were a traitor. Have you outlived your usefulness to Mr. Brown? Has he decided that you have no intention of killing Jack and turned on you himself?”
“I did wonder about that. He also might have been protecting me in his own convoluted way. I'm no longer sure,” Violet confessed. She pushed at Richard's chest. “I expect you'll be ordering me to step out of this game.”
He resisted her attempts to move him and felt his cock harden against her stomach. Grabbing her wrists, he drew her hands over her head and slowly entered her. The combination of her slick wetness and the tightness of her well-fucked cunt around his shaft made him groan.
“I wish I could order you to keep away from the man.” He thrust deep, heard her catch her breath. “But I suspect the only place you'll allow me to order you around is here in bed.” He thrust slowly back and forth. “And even then I'll have to be careful.”
“You . . .” She shuddered as a climax shook through her, and he held still to enjoy it. “You won't stop me?”
“If you'll let me help you.”
She stared into his eyes and he saw the tangle of her vulnerability, her need for him, and love, surely that was love binding everything together? He didn't dare ask her yet, could only offer his pitiful services to keep her safe and pray that they were enough.
“If you promise to be discreet.”
He thrust once more and then spilled himself slowly and deeply inside her. With a groan, he collapsed over her, his larger body pinning her to the mattress. He released her wrists and felt her hands settle on his back. For a moment he just lay there and breathed in the scent of their lovemaking. He rolled over onto his back, bringing her with him.
“Richard?” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Do you promise?”
He smoothed her short hair away from her face. “Yes, I'll do whatever you want as long as you let me sleep for a moment. Making love to you is exhausting.”
She tried to punch his chest, but he caught her hand in his and fell asleep.
“Richard?” She was talking to him again, and this time he forced his eyes to open, aware that time had passed as the clock struck ten times. “We can't stay here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I feel too vulnerable.” She shivered and he was instantly awake.
“Let me take you home.”
She climbed off the bed and started to dress in her female garb again. It was a delight for him to see her in that, although he'd also come to appreciate the shape of her comely rear in trousers.
When she had replaced her mask, he headed to the locked door and opened it.
“We can go directly down the backstairs to the kitchen and leave from there. No one will see us.”
“Thank you.”
She glanced up at him as she passed, and he was struck again by the calm resolve in her gaze and her remarkable courage. He directed her to the end of the corridor and led them both into the servants' stairway. She followed him down the steps and toward the welcoming light of the kitchen.
The kitchen door was slightly ajar, and Richard paused to listen to the voices within, smiling when he recognized Christian talking to Ambrose. He beckoned for Violet to join him.
“Ambrose, I ask you again, what is going on?” Christian was standing by the fireplace, and Ambrose looked as if he was about to go out of the back door.
Richard cleared his throat and both men looked at him. “I apologize for interrupting, but we wished to leave quietly.”
“By all means.” Christian gestured toward the exit, his gaze still fixed on Ambrose.
“Thank you.” Richard took Violet's hand and headed to the door. Just as he reached it, Ambrose stepped aside with a bow and Christian spoke again.
“Actually, before you leave, I should wish you and your charming companion happy.” He bowed. “Miss Lennox, I believe?”
Violet's grip on his hand tightened. Warily, Richard looked back at Christian. “What of it?”
“I thought you might be interested to hear that you are soon to be related by marriage.”
“What?”
Christian's smile was far too sweet. “Just before you came into the kitchen, Jack Lennox asked our dear sister Emily to marry him. I believe she said yes.”
“
What?
” This time it was Violet who spoke. “How can that be?”