Tessa's Redemption (7 page)

Chapter 7

Angel rode into the village the next morning, his mind on the couple he’d left back at the house. Tessa and Alex had seemed quite cozy there in the parlor, she perched before a little desk set near a window while Alex read through the news sheets. Her position afforded her an advantage she was seemingly unaware of, the morning sun glinting dark fire off of her upswept hair and caressing her smooth cheeks. She was so bloody beautiful she made his heart ache.

He had clients to see this morning, damn it. Work to do while Tessa’s lover lived a life of leisure. He smiled to himself in spite of that vexing fact. Was he not Tessa’s lover now as well? Strange, but last night he’d found as much pleasure from Tessa’s mouth as he had from her cries of pleasure as Alex did the forbidden. He took her in her bottom! Forbidden or not, when he’d said Angel should do it, he’d wanted to. Perhaps Alex was right, though. Perhaps his blasted cock was too big for that delicate opening. But what if he was high in her pussy while Alex had command of her ass? She would be an amazing instrument of passion between them. Her hot, wet pussy pulling him deep while Alex’s cock drove her even further over the edge. He hardened in his trousers and twitched in the saddle. It would not do to meet with a client with his cock at full staff.

“The innkeeper’s wife naked in the stable,” he muttered. “The innkeeper’s wife naked in the stable. The innkeeper’s wife naked in the stable.”

The litany began to ease the ache in his shaft. The innkeeper’s wife had a backside as wide as his horse’s and a face to match. The mere thought of her wearing nothing but her apron nearly caused his man bits to shrivel. He’d have to remember that when he wished to delay his climax with Tessa.

He made his way to his office, located on High Street, and dismounted. A stable boy ran up to him, tugging his forelock.

“’Mornin’, Mr. LeClare,” the lad said.

“Good morning, Tim.” He handed him the reins. “Take good care of her today. I’m afraid I have a bit of work ahead of me.”

“She’ll be snug and well-fed in the inn stables, Mr. LeClare.”

Once again he pictured the innkeeper’s wife and stifled a grin. “Thank you.”

The boy led the horse across the way to see to its comforts. Angel opened the iron gate and stepped toward his front door.

“Hello, Mr. LeClare!” a woman called from in front of the dressmaker’s shop.

He turned and eyed her, searching his mind for a moment. He nodded. “Good morning, Mrs. Carstairs.”

The woman hurried toward him on the walk, her eyes bright with excitement. She was an older woman and had three daughters of marriageable age. As an eligible man new to the village, it was no mystery to him that she held such a keen interest in him.

“How are you this morning?” she asked.

“Fine. And yourself?”

“Well, thank you.” She narrowed her eyes. “I heard you have moved out of the inn.”

He merely nodded, waiting for what that fact might mean to her meddling mind.

“Dare I say you are looking for a more permanent home?” she asked.

“The vicarage is occupied, Mrs. Carstairs.”

She twittered, an unattractive affectation in a woman of her years. “Of course, of course! I merely wondered where you might be keeping your fine self, if I may be so bold to ask.”

As bold as brass.
“I am residing with friends.”

She looked about then leaned closer. “It is said that you are staying with Mr. Alex D’Bushey.”

“Yes.”

“How can you? Why, you were quite nearly our vicar!”

His skin suddenly felt tight. “Excuse me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “
She
is living there, Mr. LeClare.” Her face flushed with obvious titillation. “That Derbyshire girl.”

Anger boiled in his belly. “What, precisely, are you saying?”

“She is his…”

“Watch your words.” He growled.

She stared at him owlishly. “Oh, I mean no disrespect to Mr. D’Bushey!”

It seemed an odd statement, and one he couldn’t let slip past him.

“What do you mean, Mrs. Carstairs?”

Now she paled, taking a step back. “Nothing, nothing. Mr. D’Bushey has been good for Oake, Mr. LeClare.” Her words rushed out in a flurry. “I am sure that if he gives shelter to Miss Derbyshire, there is nothing more to say about it.”

With that she spun on her heel and hurried away from him. Something had spooked her. Something linked directly to Alex. She hadn’t seemed afraid precisely, but the mention of Alex seemed to strike an off note within her.

“Bothersome tale-carrier,” he grumbled as he let himself into the office.

The place was quiet and smelled of lemon oil and leather. The office had been unused for ten years at least, and he felt fortunate to find such a location after selling his living. He’d furnished the outer office with a small desk yet to be occupied by a clerk yet to be hired. In his own office a wide desk and comfortable chair were backed by shelves with his books, ledgers, and files.

The chair creaked as he sat, not as comfortable as it had been previously. Mrs. Carstairs’s words, both before and after the mention of Alex’s name, gave him pause.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice called from the outer office, drawing him out of his reverie. Angel stood. “In my office,” he called back.

A bear of a man stepped into the doorway, the small eyes in his florid face overshadowed by thick, black brows.

“Mr. LeClare,” he said with a bob of his bushy head. “I’m a bit early, I know.”

Angel smiled as he greeted his first client of the day, a milliner and successful shopkeeper in the village. “Nothing to worry over, Mr. Latham. Come in.”

The man lumbered forward and sank into the chair in front of Angel’s desk. Angel sat and withdrew the top folder from the stack at his elbow.

“Now, Mr. Latham, I believe there is the matter of your estate in regards to your son and daughter-in-law? The management of your store, the house and its contents, et cetera?”

“Yes, yes.” Mr. Latham took the folder from Angel and placed it on the desk without another apparent thought.

Angel blinked in surprise. “I thought if you had any points to review, we can—”

Mr. Latham waved a beefy hand, cutting him off. “Whatever you’ve written will be sufficient, I’m sure.”

Angel blinked. “Well, as much as I appreciate your trust in my work, I must insist you review the documents.”

“I will, I will.” He leaned forward, his little eyes gleaming. “I heard over at the Rooster’s that you’re living up at D’Bushey’s house.”

The hairs on the back of Angel’s neck stirred, but he kept his face impassive. “Yes, I am.”

A sly grin stretched the man’s thick lips. “With Miss Derbyshire.”

Angel fisted his hands to refrain from punching the man. “Yes.”

Latham leaned back, folding his hands over his impressive girth. “Seems to me that you must know a bit of what goes on out there?”

“What goes on? Mr. Latham, Mr. D’Bushey has been generous enough to welcome me into his home, as he has Miss Derbyshire. It is nothing more than that.”

“Ha! I’ve seen her about the village. Bloody beautiful girl. If my wife were gone, I’d offer her more than hospitality myself.”

Angel felt his ears grow hot. “See here, Latham.”

“Now, now. I don’t mean no disrespect toward the girl, but there has to be some reason she’s been living with him all this time. Nigh on six months, I daresay.”

Red flashed behind Angel’s eyes. “Miss Derbyshire is Mr. D’Bushey’s relation, sir.” It might not be true, but the people of Oake certainly believed so. That tale would serve Angel’s case this morning. “A distant cousin. To suggest anything untoward—”

“I ain’t, I ain’t!” Latham hadn’t lost the oily glint in his eyes despite his words. “He’s a wealthy gentleman, is all. Randy, too. Before he extended his, er, hospitality to the girl, he’d rutted with half the women in the village.”

That didn’t surprise Angel. “And?”

“Just seems to me that if he don’t partake of the generosity of Oake’s ladies no more, there has to be a reason.”

Angel pursed his lips, breathing slowly in and out through his nostrils until the buzzing in his head began to subside. He rose and placed his hands on the desk. “Take the folder, Mr. Latham. Please let me know if anything needs clarification and return it to me when you are ready to sign the documents.”

Latham gaped at him for a moment, then stood. “All right, all right.” He took the file and turned to go. He stopped in the doorway and faced Angel again, his eyes darting about the room now. “Pray, don’t tell Mr. D’Bushey I said anything.”

Then don’t pass tales like a washerwoman.
Unable to give a banal comment, Angel nodded.

“He’s a good customer,” Latham went on. “Seems every week he’s in buying something or other for his ‘cousin.’”

With a nod and that last parting shot at Tessa, Latham took himself and his damn folder out of Angel’s office. Angel waited until he heard the door to the street close behind the man’s fat ass before slamming his fist down on the desk.

“Christ!” he shouted.

The fine people of Oake obviously thought Tessa was being kept by Alex, though they had nothing but innuendo to go on. The allusions to Alex’s generosity and commerce told him that the man had obviously spread his money around to keep Tessa’s name unsullied. He felt a grudging respect for Alex begin to bloom. Alex had said he wouldn’t ever give Tessa up. Protecting her reputation certainly gave credence to that assertion. What had he, Angel, ever done to keep her safe?

He sank back into his chair, closing his eyes. Would Tessa ever forgive him for the horrible things he’d said on the night before their wedding? For the way he’d heartlessly cast her aside for a transgression that wasn’t entirely her fault? Whenever he glimpsed that fleeting tenderness in her gaze, he thought her forgiveness was a possibility.

There was a strong connection between her and Alex, however. One that was more advantageous to Tessa’s well-being than he would have imagined when he first learned of their living arrangements. As for Tessa’s behavior? The good people of Oake had no notion what kept the girl at Alex’s house. Angel knew. As much as it galled him to admit to himself, he knew full well.

Tessa gave herself to Alex not out of any obligation, familial or financial. Of that, Angel knew without question. She cared for the man. Uncertainty churned sourly in Angel’s belly.

Why she gave herself to
him
was more of a mystery.

* * * *

By the late afternoon Angel was ready to throw up his hands. Taking his noon meal at the Rooster’s Comb had the effect to assure him that Mrs. Carstairs and Mr. Latham were suitable representations of the perceptions of both Alex’s character and Tessa’s ruination. Nothing blatant was stated, not with Angel’s reproach and Alex’s money to consider. That sordid business was good for Angel, though.

His ledger reflected monies billed, and he gave a nod and closed it. It seemed that his living arrangements both titillated the villagers and raised Angel’s reputation in their redoubtable estimation. The contradiction was apparently lost on them.

He made a few notes of the next day’s appointments and leaned back in his chair. Taking this position in Oake would prove profitable. Living with Alex and Tessa would prove advantageous as well.

“We need to see the esteemed Angel LeClare,” a man’s voice called from the outer office.

Angel recognized it as Alex’s and set aside his ledger. “In my office,” he called.

Alex stepped inside and Angel spied Tessa behind him. His pulse sped up as he drank in her beauty. She looked about the room, shyly curious, while Alex let out a whistle.

“It seems you’re doing well.” He snorted. “Perhaps I should charge you for your living arrangements.”

“I’d be happy to contribute to the household,” Angel snapped.

“Do not argue,” Tessa said softly.

Alex touched her hand, which seemed to calm her unease. “We are not here to argue, Tessa. I give you my word.”

“Why, then, are you here?” Angel had to know.

Alex’s grin was all the answer he required.

Chapter 8

Alex relished the look of surprise on Angel’s face. Surprisingly, the heat in the man’s gaze as he looked at Tessa didn’t affect Alex the way it would have just last week. Yes, he wanted to be the only man to keep Tessa. But Angel’s involvement brought a level of satisfaction Alex had never truly considered when he’d proposed their odd arrangement.

“Tessa and I were just at the milliner’s,” he told Angel.

A dark look crossed the other man’s face. “The milliner,” he grumbled.

“Surely you do not fault me for buying Tessa some pretty little things,” Alex countered.

“No.” Angel rubbed his hand over his face then shook his head. “Mr. Latham was here this morning. Carrying tales.”

In an instant Alex grasped Angel’s meaning. He shot a glance at Tessa, whose lovely mouth was an
O
of surprise. Alex stiffened as heat suffused his body.

“Does he not value my business?” Alex growled.

Angel laughed harshly, splaying a hand on top of the leather-wrapped ledger to his left. “He pays well for mine.” He met Alex’s gaze. “And he will keep his fat mouth shut.”

The glare in Angel’s eyes told Alex far more than any of his repeated professions of regret over his abysmal treatment of Tessa. She had another champion, though Alex couldn’t fault the man for his protection. Tessa was easy to love.

“What did Mr. Latham say, Angel?” Tessa asked.

Angel shrugged, that glint absent now. “Nothing of import, love.”

The man’s easy use of the endearment curled sourly in Alex’s belly.

“Shall I pay a call on the shopkeeper?” he asked.

“No,” Angel said. “He all but told me how much he counts on
your
business.”

Alex settled in the chair before Angel’s desk. “And right he should. As should the lot of those dolts.”

Angel opened his mouth to say something more, apparently stopping himself as he gazed at Tessa. Alex would try to get the man alone and question him further. Tessa would not be sullied by the idle gossips in Oake, that was certain.

“Let us not talk about the florid-faced Latham any longer,” Alex said. He glanced over at Tessa, seeing that worried frown still marring her face. He gave her a wink. “Tessa, love, do show Angel what we purchased this afternoon at the dressmaker’s.”

“But, Alex—”

“I am gratified that I convinced you to at least consider allowing me to make some purchases for you, love. Please do not deny me the pleasure of catching Angel’s countenance when he sees my favorite article.”

She lost her frown, and, despite the blush coloring her cheeks, she raised the skirt of her walking dress to reveal the whisper-thin stockings caressing her gorgeous legs. Pert pink bows trimmed both garters. To his delight she wore no drawers. Ah, Tessa. She had obviously taken all the naughty suggestions he’d made in the dressmaker’s backroom to her caring heart. Alex could glimpse the dark, damp curls at the apex of her creamy thighs.

Alex cast a glance in Angel’s direction. The man appeared to have swallowed his tongue. His nostrils flared, his eyes darkened, and Alex also caught Tessa’s scent. His cock grew hard in his trousers, and he watched Angel shift in his chair as he was equally affected.

Angel stood and crossed to her, pulling her to him. “Christ,” he murmured, settling his mouth on hers. His hands stroked over her ass, her legs. “I heartily approve of this purchase,” he breathed. “These stockings are nearly as smooth as your legs.”

Alex eyed her bare bottom and caught Angel’s urgency. He rose and grabbed Tessa, turning her and bracing her hands on Angel’s fine desk. “I have to have you first, love,” he ground out, caressing her ass. She purred as she wriggled in his hold.

Angel shook his head. “Now see here, Alex…”

“I must, Angel.” Alex freed his aching cock, giving it a long slow stroke. “If you take her first, she’ll be ruined for me this afternoon.”

Angel’s brows shot up in surprise. Did the man truly not realize how big his cock was? He frowned then went back to kissing Tessa’s sweet mouth.

“Oh, Alex.” She sighed between Angel’s kisses as Alex reached beneath and fingered her clit. It was hot and swollen, attempting to hide among her slick folds. His thumb was relentless, though, and she arched as she neared release. “Oh, please…”

“Tell me, Tessa,” he rasped, slipping a finger deep into her cunt. “Tell me what you want.”

Again she blushed, but she turned her head from Angel to look over her shoulder at him. “Take me, Alex.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. He surged inside of her with one deep thrust. With Angel’s mouth again on hers, her moans were muffled but no less like music to him. Her pussy held him tight, pulling and clenching as he began to move inside her. He gripped her hips and rotated a bit, earning another gasp of delight from her.

“Hurry, Alex,” Angel urged, his preposterous shaft now free and straining in his own hand. “Christ, will you hurry.”

One drop of liquid glistened on the head of Angel’s cock, and Alex saw Tessa staring as well. Renewing his thrusts, he brought her closer and closer to release.

“Feel
me
, Tessa,” he ground out. “Take
me
. You’ll have Angel inside of you soon enough.”

She wore that expression of shock again, but it was quickly eclipsed by obvious bliss as her climax took her. Her pussy pulled tight around his cock as he clutched the cheeks of her ass in his hands. She was so soft up against his belly, rubbing against him as she sobbed her release. He came in the next moment, great spurts that nearly turned him inside out.

“My God,” he said then laughed softly. “It seems I’ve taken up your habit of exalted epithets, Angel.”

Angel shook his head and reached for Tessa. Alex slipped out of her pussy, acutely feeling the loss. Angel spun Tessa to face him and bent her back over the desk. He somehow managed to cram his huge cock deep in her pussy, and she screamed with delight. Her lovely legs, clad in those pretty stockings, wrapped around Angel’s waist as he pounded into her.

“Tessa, Tessa,” he chanted, his head thrown back.

She shook her head back and forth, no doubt lost in her renewed passion. “Angel!” she cried.

Alex felt her climax to his soul as she undulated on the desk. Angel was relentless, never ceasing his thrusts until she once more screamed out her release. With heaving breaths Angel shook, his cock still deep within her. He kissed Tessa after his climax and smiled that silly grin.

“All right,” Alex managed to say.

The scene between Angel and Tessa had affected him in a way he hadn’t imagined. Their pleasure together seemed so right, Angel’s taking of her as she still trembled from Alex’s coupling, seemed to make them all one. How odd that his adversary had somehow become his partner for this brief moment. The strange twisting in his gut was all the evidence he needed that this would take some getting used to.

“Come, love,” Alex said. “Let us leave Angel to his business.”

Tessa nodded but was slow to recover. Alex helped her to her feet, smoothing her skirts down over her shaking legs.

Angel stuffed himself back into his trousers, still wearing that grin. Alex gave him a nod. “We shall see you at dinner?”

Angel blinked. “Of course.”

Of course.
Alex watched as Angel bestowed a tender kiss on Tessa’s lips before stepping back. Without another word to Angel, Alex led her out of the office and back to his carriage.

She looked pensive as they began the short journey home.

“What is it, Tessa mine?” he asked.

She faced him, her dainty brows drawn together. “Tell me what you and Angel were trying so hard not to discuss in front of me.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“What did the milliner say?” she cut in.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But trust me on this, love. No tales will pass through the village.”

She seemed to want to say more but instead pressed her full lips together. She was a contradiction to be sure. Giving herself so completely to both of them in Angel’s office, a sexual being intent on only pleasure. But now? Now she was the sharp woman whose appearance he’d come to eagerly anticipate.

“What is troubling you, Tessa?”

“I am not a plaything, Alex,” she stated. Her voice was as soft as usual but held conviction. “I am capable of sharing in more than a tryst with the two of you. I am capable of conversation.”

“I suspect you are,” he answered. “Though I admit that one glimpse of that delectable mouth of yours makes me think of things other than words.”

She waved a hand. “You do not listen to me.”

He tilted his head. “I daresay you held your own the other night in the parlor. However…”

“However?”

“There is something you’re keeping from me, love.”

Pain flitted across her beautiful face. “I cannot bear to think about what I have become.”

Anger churned in his belly. “What, pray, have you become?”

“I am your mistress but now I am also having relations with Angel. It is unseemly.”

“Why do you think so? For me it has proven to feel quite fitting.”

Her eyes grew round. “Fitting?”

“Yes. Angel and I both want you, Tessa.” He gave her a small smile. “I believe what just transpired in his office proves that point.”

“Lust, Alex.” She let out a shuddering sigh. “Lust is not fitting. It is…tawdry.”

“Do not speak so,” he snapped.

She straightened her shoulders. “Am I not allowed to speak my mind, then?”

“You are.”

“Then do not tell me what my feelings should be or how I should express them.”

He hid his smile. For so long she seemed afraid to voice her opinions about anything, from hair ribbons at the milliner’s to what was served in their dining room to what acts they performed in their bed.
This
Tessa, asserting herself even after giving over complete sexual control to two men, was proving to be more than he even knew he wanted when she came to him last spring.

“You have leave to say anything you wish in front of me, love.”

Giving a nod, she settled back against the seat. “Good.”

He was more determined than ever that Angel would not take her from him. Only now, it seemed to grow more difficult with each encounter to imagine a life without the other man in it as well.

His mood soured, and he, too, fell silent as the carriage rolled on.