Dangerous

Chapter Six

Allow me to compliment you on your enchanting nightclothes, my dear." Sebastian surveyed the plain woolen gown and muslin cap that Prudence was wearing. "I should have expected that your choice in such garments would be spectacularly original."

"What on earth do you think you're doing, sir?" Prudence slowly lowered the pistol. The moonlight streaming through the window glinted on her spectacles and revealed her strained expression. "You gave me a terrible start. I might have shot you."

"It was a near thing, was it not? My life does seem to be filled with adventure these days. First Thornbridge tries to shoot me and then my fiancee takes aim at my vitals. I am not certain how many of these encounters my nerves can tolerate."

She gave him an annoyed look. "I asked you a question, my lord."

"So you did." Sebastian glanced around the shadowed bedroom, taking in the dark, heavy furnishings and the massive bed. "The an­swer is that I came here tonight in order to give you the benefit of my expertise."

"And what is that supposed to mean, pray tell?"

He smiled slightly at the suspicious tone of her voice. "Isn't it obvious?" He swung his greatcoat off his shoulders and tossed it over a chair. He was wearing only his shirt and breeches beneath it. He had decided a coat and cravat were not called for on such an occasion. "I'm here to help you investigate your newest case of spectral phe­nomena."

"I do not require your assistance, my lord. I thought we agreed this afternoon that we would not work together on our cases."

"As to that," Sebastian said easily, "I've reconsidered the matter."

"You have?" The pale light illuminated the hopeful look on her expressive face. "That is wonderful news."

"It's not as if I had a great deal of choice in the matter," Sebastian muttered under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind." There would be time enough at some later date to explain precisely how their new partnership would work.

It was very simple, really. Sebastian fully intended to supervise Prudence's more adventurous investigations, but he had no intention of letting her risk her neck helping him with his own cases.

Prudence put the pistol on the end table. "How did you find me in this particular bedchamber?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I watched for the last light to be extinguished in this wing."

"Very clever of you." Prudence went to the window and looked down into the gardens. "Good heavens, it is a sheer drop. However did you climb up the wall?"

"I didn't. I entered the house through the kitchens and climbed the stairs to this floor. Then I opened a window in an empty room and discovered that very convenient ledge outside. It led me straight to this bedchamber."

"An excellent approach to the problem, my lord."

"It was nothing, really. A matter of simple logic and reason," Se­bastian said modestly.

"Yes, of course, but I doubt that many people would have thought of that approach."

"Possibly not," he admitted, gratified by her admiration.

It occurred to Sebastian that although he had not given a damn about anyone's opinion since his parents and brother had died, lately he found himself increasingly hungry for Prudence's approval.

She was the only female he knew who was capable of appreciating his peculiar talents and interests. He wondered if she had any notion of how badly he wanted to bed her.

He watched her standing at the window and contemplated the possibility that he was going slightly mad. No woman had ever had such an effect on him. When he was with her the icy barrier inside him seemed much smaller and farther away. He could almost forget it and the emptiness that it concealed.

At that moment Prudence turned her head to look at him. The weak moonlight fell across her features, revealing her glowing smile. Desire swept through Sebastian in a great wave, leaving him shaken.

It had become painfully clear during the past few days that the sensual hunger Prudence had aroused in him that first night was no fleeting fancy.

It was equally clear and profoundly annoying to realize that Pru­dence's interest in him appeared to be inspired primarily by his hobby. He wondered again how much Underbrink had meant to her. He had been gnawing on that question ever since he had returned from the drive in the park that afternoon.

"Now that you are here, we ought to make some new plans." Prudence cast a thoughtful glance at the wardrobe. "We must discover a way to conceal you in case the apparition appears."

"You may forget the wardrobe," Sebastian said. "I have no inten­tion of spending the rest of the night in it."

"Where will you hide, then? Under the bed?"

Sebastian swore softly. "I don't think it will be necessary for me to conceal myself until we have some indication that the ghost is about to make his appearance."

"But if the apparition proves to be one of Mrs. Leacock's nephews, we don't want to let him know you're here. We cannot light a candle and we must be very quiet."

Sebastian raised his brows. "I assure you, I can be extremely quiet. There is plenty of light from the moon, so we do not need a candle. For once there is no damned fog, although I suspect it will arrive again at dawn. Our only concern now is how to pass the time until our ghost chooses to appear."

She looked at him expectantly. "We probably should not converse. We might be overheard."

"I agree." Sebastian walked toward her.

"I suppose we could play a hand of whist," Prudence suggested. "Unfortunately, I do not happen to have any cards with me."

"Then we shall have to think of some other method of amusing ^k ourselves." Sebastian caught her chin between thumb and forefinger. He gently raised her face so that he could see her eyes more clearly.

Prudence stood very still, as if the touch of his hand had stunned her into immobility. She looked up at him with a wide, searching gaze that held both curiosity and wariness.

"My lord?" she whispered breathlessly. I

"There is something I wish to know, Prue."

Her lips parted slightly. The tip of her tongue touched the corner of her mouth. "What is that?"

"Do you think it possible that you can discover something more to recommend me than just my amusing little hobby?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Allow me to show you," he said softly.

Sebastian bent his head and brushed his mouth slowly across her lips. She made a small, inarticulate little sound that utterly captivated him.

Deliberately he deepened the kiss and traced the fine line of her jaw with his thumb.

A delicate shiver went through Prudence. Sebastian felt it in­stantly. Relief and satisfaction poured through him. He could make her want him, he told himself.

Prudence moaned softly as he eased apart her lips. He felt her hands move first to his shoulders. Then her arms stole around his neck. She pressed herself closer.

Heat rose within him. He could hardly feel the cold at all now. It had been temporarily banished by the fire of his need for Prudence.

Prudence gasped when he temporarily freed her mouth to explore her soft neck. "Sebastian, I don't know if this is a sound notion."

"Trust me, Prue."

"I do trust you," she said quickly.

"Good." He slid his hand down her back, deliberately urging her closer until her soft breasts were crushed against his chest and the gentle curve of her mound pressed against his shaft. His body was already hard with arousal.

"Sebastian, you make me feel so very strange." Prudence gently touched the nape of his neck. The caress sent a thrill of anticipation through him. She stood on tiptoe and tangled her fingers in his hair. Then she began to return his kisses with untutored passion.

She had obviously n'ot learned much from Underbrink, Sebastian thought with deep satisfaction.

His blood surged through his veins like heavy lightning. All thoughts of trapping a ghost fled. He could handle an apparition or two if one happened to appear tonight. In the meantime there were far more important matters.

He was going to make love to Prudence, who, whether she knew it or not, would soon be his wife.

"Sebastian?"

"It's all right, my sweet." He drew her toward the vast bed. "Every­thing will be all right."

"I cannot seem to think clearly when you are kissing me," she complained.

"Neither can I." Sebastian smiled. "Fortunately, there is no press­ing need for clear thinking at a time like this." He gently removed her spectacles and set them on the nightstand.

She gazed anxiously at him, as if he had lifted a veil and left her completely exposed. An aching tenderness welled up within Sebastian.

"You are lovely," he whispered.

Her eyes widened in startled surprise. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes, I really think so." He took her earlobe between his teeth and bit gently. "And I want you very much."

"You want me?" She sounded dazed now, as if her exceedingly clever little brain had suddenly come up against a truly baffling di­lemma. "I'm not certain I comprehend your meaning, my lord."

"You will comprehend it soon enough. God knows I cannot hide it much longer. You have no notion of your effect on me, do you?"

Her smile was tremulous. "If my effect on you is anything like yours on me, we are faced with a most unusual problem, sir. I am not at all certain what we should do next."

"As it happens, I know precisely what to do next."

Sebastian lowered his head and kissed her again. Her arms tight-sned around his neck. When he felt her lean into him in a silent signal of feminine surrender, he eased the toe of his boot between her slip­pered feet.

She drew in her breath but made no protest when he gently forced his thigh between her legs. The skirts of her gown rode upward as he lifted his knee and planted his foot on the bed behind her.

Prudence gave a tiny, muffled shriek when she abruptly found her­self straddling his thigh as if she were perched astride a horse.

"Sebastian. Good heavens." She clung to him in shock.

"Hush, my sweet. We must not make too much noise. We don't want to scare off the ghost." Sebastian groaned as he felt the intimate beat of her soft, warm femininity burning through his breeches.

Not just heat, he thought triumphantly, but a telltale dampness, too. He caught the faint, tantalizing scent of Prudence's growing arousal and very nearly lost his self-control.

"My lovely, Prue," he said in awed wonder. "Where have you been all these years?"

"In Dorset," she said very seriously.

Sebastian hid his smile in her hair. He slipped his hand up along her stocking-clad leg and touched the top of her bare silken thigh. She flinched in reaction. Then she breathed deeply.

"For some reason," Sebastian said, "I feel I know you very, very well. It is as if we were old friends, you and I. Or perhaps lovers."

"How very odd." Her voice was dreamy now, soft and warm and thick with desire. "I was thinking much the same thing just before you arrived. It is as if we have been intimate acquaintances for years, although we have known each other for only a very short time."

"We are going to know each other even more intimately before this night is done," Sebastian vowed.

He could wait no longer. She wanted him and he wanted her. They were engaged. It was suddenly all very simple and straightforward.

Sebastian eased his booted foot back down off the quilt, lowering Prudence slowly onto her toes. Before her feet had quite touched the floor, he was pushing her back onto the bed.

He drew in his breath at the sight of her lying there amid the rumpled white sheets. Her skirts foamed above her knees, revealing the garters that secured her practical cotton stockings. The curve of her calf was very elegant as it tapered down to her delicately shaped ankle. Above the garters her thighs were beautifully rounded.

Sebastian stared down at Prudence's legs and envisioned them wrapped around his waist. He heard himself make a hoarse, inarticu­late sound deep in his throat.

"Is something wrong?" Prudence looked up at him in concern.

"No, nothing is wrong. Nothing has ever been this right." Sebas­tian ripped at the fastenings of his shirt. He heard the fine linen tear, but he paid no attention. All that mattered now was making love to Prudence.

He got the shirt open, but he did not take the time to shed it completely. He was tod impatient to feel Prudence's fingers on his bare skin. He sat down on the edge of the bed and yanked off his boots.

"You seem in a great hurry, Sebastian."

"I am."

He lowered himself down beside Prue and gathered her into his arms.

"Touch me," he said. He caught her hand in his and guided it inside his open shirt. "I want to feel your hands on me."

"Yes. Yes, I would like that very much, too." Prudence gave a tiny, broken exclamation of pleasure as she skimmed her fingers across his bare chest. She grasped handfuls of the thick, curling hair she found there.

Sebastian sucked in his breath.

Prudence looked up at him. "I love the feel of you. There is so much strength and power in you. The first night I saw you, I thought you were the most wonderful creature I had ever seen."

He was stunned into temporary speechlessness by the sweet, hon­est desire in her moonlit eyes. There was no coyness in her, he thought. No artifice at all.

He thrust his thigh between hers, bent his head, and kissed her throat. He finally found his voice. "You won't regret this, Prue. I swear it on my honor."

Her lips brushed across his shoulder. "I do not expect to regret anything that I do with you. How could I? It is all far too wonderful for words."

"Prue, you take my breath away." Sebastian pulled her close and started to unfasten the row of shell buttons that closed the back of her gown. The process seemed to take forever. So damned many buttons.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, fumbling with the last of the buttons. He was suddenly chagrined at his lack of self-control.

"Are you all right, Sebastian?"

"I'm fine." But that was not true, he thought as he slowly lowered the bodice of her gown and revealed her small, firm breasts. He was far from all right. His hands were shaking. He felt as if he were con­sumed by fever. His lower body was throbbing. His mind was dazed with the force of his need.

No, he was definitely not all right. But that was all right, too. He had not felt so completely right for longer than he cared to remember.

"Sebastian?"

He stared down at her exquisitely curved breasts. He really was going mad.

"God, but you are perfect, Prue." He bent his head and took one firm little nipple between his teeth.

"Oh." Her fingers clenched in his hair and her slender body arched as if she had touched an electricity machine.

Her instant reaction to his caress drove Sebastian closer to the edge of his control. He reached down and pushed his hand up beneath the edge of her skirts.

He stroked her thighs until she trembled. Then he probed higher, seeking the moist heat he knew he would find waiting for him. Just for him. Only for him.

He found it.

"Sebastian." Prudence shuddered and tried to lock her legs against him. He sensed the movement was instinctive on her part, her natural reaction to a caress she had never before experienced.

"It's all right," he whispered encouragingly. "I want to feel all the secret places. I want to know you as intimately as a man can know a woman."

"Yes, but this is so strange." Her voice was muffled against his shirt.

"You are a lady who delights in investigating the strange and the unusual," he reminded her. He gently forced her thighs apart again and found the soft petals hidden in the even softer hair.

"Yes, I know, but… Oh. Good heavens. Oh, my God. Sebas­tian, what are you doing?"

She was as hot and wet as he had known she would be. Sebastian sank one finger deep into her slick, tight channel. The small passage tightened around him like a well-made glove. The sensation was inde­scribable. He feared he would humiliate himself by spilling his seed then and there.

"I did not know making love would feel like this," Prudence con­fided breathlessly.

Sebastian looked down into her wide-open eyes. "Neither did I."

Suddenly his own pounding desire was not nearly as important as his need to give Prudence her first real taste of passion. He wanted her to experience the thrill of release and to know that he had been responsible for that release. There would be plenty of time to satisfy himself later. They had all night.

Sebastian eased his finger out of her until he felt her clench in frustration. He found the sensitive bud with his thumb and slowly pushed his finger back into her wondrously warm passage.

Prudence made a tiny sound that was halfway between a shriek and a moan. Sebastian covered her mouth with his own and deliber­ately repeated the caress between her legs.

She gave another muffled cry and clutched at the fabric of his shirt. Her knees clamped shut again, trapping his hand against her.

"You must relax a little." Sebastian dropped a series of soft, per­suasive kisses across her breasts. "Open yourself. Yes, that's it, my sweet. Let me inside, Prue. Deep inside." He felt her hesitate and then slowly part her soft thighs again. "You are so warm," he whis­pered. "I want to feel your heat. I need to feel it."

He stroked into her again and again, gradually widening her until he thought he could slide a second finger into her. He started to do so.

Prudence's reaction was immediate and intense. She went rigid. Her mouth opened on a soft, silent scream and then she started to shiver. Sebastian felt the tiny ripples rush through her. The moment of her release was gratifying beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life.

He raised his head and watched Prudence's face as she gave her­self up to her climax.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

And then she went limp against him. She mumbled something into his shirt that Sebastian could not understand. He smiled and reluc­tantly withdrew his hand from between her legs.

Now it was his turn.

He inhaled Prudence's scent as he started to unfasten his breeches. He was so fully aroused that he doubted he would be able to last for more than a few strokes at the most. Hell, he thought, he would be lucky to last long enough to get inside her.

The muffled clank of a chain broke the spell.

Sebastian felt as if someone had just doused him with a bucket of ice-cold water. He went absolutely still. He felt Prudence tense.

"The ghost," she whispered.

"Bloody hell." Sebastian shook his head in an attempt to clear away the cobwebs of passion. He fumbled with the opening of his breeches and managed to get it closed. "If this is an example of the sort of poor timing that damned specter exhibited when he was alive, it's no wonder someone murdered him."

The heavy clanking sound came again. It was closer now, reverber­ating through the walls. A low moan came from the other side of the connecting door.

" Lydia . Lydia , I have come for you."

"Bastard." Sebastian pushed himself up off the bed.

"What are you doing?" Prudence mouthed the words as she strug­gled to right her clothing.

"I'm going to take care of that ghost." Sebastian yanked the bed­ding up over her head. "Don't move. Don't make a sound."

He left her lying there, a large, interesting lump under the quilt, and quickly crossed the room to the window. He yanked the heavy drapes together, cutting off the moonlight. The room was plunged into stygian darkness.

" Lydia , where are you? Your time has come. I have waited a long, long while for you to join me in my grave."

Chains rumbled again on the floorboards in the other room. From his vantage point near the wardrobe, Sebastian watched the crack under the door. Candlelight appeared.

The door opened slowly and the clanking was suddenly much louder. A startling figure moved into the room with slow, ponderous steps.

Sebastian retreated deeper into the dark shadows cast by the big wardrobe and watched with interest as the apparition clanked toward the bed.

The candle revealed a hideously scarred face partially concealed by the hood of a cloak. There was a great, gaping wound in the spec­ter's throat. One gloved hand held the candle. The other hand was hidden beneath the folds of the cloak. The chains appeared to be attached to the ghost's ankle.

The ghost moved inexorably toward the bed. " Lydia . Lydia . Where are you, Lydia ?"

Sebastian took a step forward. But before he could reach the appa­rition, Prudence tossed aside the bedclothes and sat up. She had her pistol clutched in her hand.

"Stop right where you are or I shall put a bullet in you," she announced.

"What the bloody hell?" the ghost squawked. "You're not Aunt Lydia."

"I most certainly am not. And you're no ghost." Prudence scram­bled off the bed, careful to keep the pistol pointed at the apparition. "And this sorry business has gone quite far enough." She fumbled with her glasses and managed to get them on her nose. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Christ, who the devil do you think you are? I'll teach you to interfere in my affairs."

The intruder withdrew his hand from beneath the folds of the cloak, revealing a long dagger. He raised the blade and started pur­posefully around the edge of the bed.

"Halt or I'll shoot." Prudence took a step back.

"Not bloody likely," the ghost said. "Ladies don't know how to use pistols."

Sebastian launched himself at the dagger-wielding ghost. He grabbed him by the shoulder, yanked the hood of the cloak down over the man's eyes from behind, and spun him around. The candle went flying.

"What in blazes?" The ghost struggled to throw aside the hood of the cloak which was effectively blinding him.

Sebastian gave him no chance to raise the hood. He could not risk having the ghost see him and recognize him. There would be far too much explaining to do.

Sebastian knocked the dagger aside with one hand. Then he slammed a fist straight into the ghost's jaw, which was just barely visible beneath the hood.

The intruder reeled backward, struck his head against the bedpost, and crumpled, unconscious, to the floor.

"Well done, my lord," Prudence exclaimed as she hurried to pick the candle up before it could singe the carpet. "And just in the very nick of time. I do believe he actually intended to use that dagger on me."

Sebastian stood over his victim and stared at her. Rage at the risks Prudence had taken mingled with relief that she was safe.

"You little fool. Do you realize what could have happened?"

She blinked at him in surprise. "Well, it was a bit of a near thing, I'll grant you. I really did not want to have to shoot him, you see. I've never actually fired a pistol and my aim might have been a bit off."

"A bit of a near thing?" Sebastian repeated in outraged disbelief. He stepped around the fallen body of the ghost and loomed over Prudence. "He could have slit your throat with that dagger. He might have killed you, you fluff-brained little idiot."

She started to frown. "Really, Sebastian, there is no need to shout."

"I am not shouting. But I am seriously considering putting you over my knee and paddling you so hard you won't be able to sit a horse for a week. You nearly got yourself killed tonight."

"I had my pistol," she reminded him.

"Have you any notion of how hard it is to actually bring a man down with a small pistol like that? I have seen men keep going with two bullets in their guts. I have seen them go on to kill other men before they collapsed."

Prudence stared at him. "Where did you see that sort of thing, my lord?"

"Never mind." This was hardly the time to describe the horrors of bandit hunting in the mountains of Saragstan. "But believe me when I say that a bullet does not always fell a man."

"Now, see here, Sebastian, this is my investigation and I was fully prepared to handle it. I did not ask for your assistance."

"No, you did not," he acknowledged through his teeth. "Instead you chose to risk your neck."

"What of it?" she flung back, equally outraged now. " Tis my af­fair, not yours."

"It is most certainly my affair, Miss Merryweather. You happen to be engaged to me."

"Yes, well, that can be remedied soon enough."

"Damnation, woman."

The man on the floor groaned. Sebastian scowled down at him, annoyed at the interruption.

"Oh, dear, I believe he is going to awaken soon," Prudence said. She held the candle over the fallen ghost. "He appears to be wearing a mask."

"Give me that candle." Sebastian realized there were matters to be attended to before he could continue his chastisement of Prudence. He took a grip on his temper and on the candle which Prudence obediently handed to him.

He knelt down beside the unconscious man, groped for and found the edge of the mask. With a single motion he wrenched it off, re­vealing an unfamiliar face.

"Do you recognize him?" Prudence asked.

"No, but I would lay odds he is one of Mrs. Leacock's infamous nephews."

"Most likely." Prudence reached for the bell rope. "I shall sum­mon assistance at once.‘Mrs. Leacock has several strong footmen in her employ. They can manage our ghost until the magistrate arrives. You had best be on your way, my lord."

"How do you intend to explain the fact that your damn ghost is unconscious?" he demanded.

Prudence thought a moment. "I shall say that he tripped and fell when he lunged at me. He hit his head against the bedpost and lost consciousness. Who can gainsay me?"

"I suppose that will work," Sebastian said reluctantly. "It has been my experience that people who suffer from being knocked uncon­scious rarely recall anything about what happened in the moments immediately before the incident. He'll likely believe that he did trip and fall, if that's what you tell him."

"Then that is precisely what I shall say. Now off with you, my lord."

He shot her a disgusted glance, knowing full well she was right. For her sake, he could not allow himself to be discovered by Mrs. Leacock and her staff. The rumpled condition of the bed, Prudence's dishev­eled appearance, and his state of undress would lead everyone to the obvious conclusion that he had been making love to his fiancee.

Being discovered like this with Prue would not be a complete di­saster. Society would wink and turn a blind eye. After all, the pair had already declared their intention to wed. Nevertheless, there were some limits. Society expected romantic assignations to be conducted with some discretion. Being found together in this situation would virtually require a special license.

A special license. Sebastian paused at that interesting thought.

"Well, my lord? Hadn't you better hurry?" Prudence handed him his shirt. "Pray, do not forget your boots."

"You are quite correct, my dear." Sebastian smiled grimly. "I should be on my way. Your reputation is already hanging by a thread, is it not?"

" Tis not my reputation which concerns me," she said tartly. "It is your own."

The woman never ceased to amaze him. "Mine? Why in God's name are you worried about my reputation?"

"You have the most to lose, do you not?" she asked softly. "People already take great pleasure in viewing your reputation in the worst possible light. I have no wish to see you titillate the ton with an esca­pade such as this."

Sebastian was taken aback. No one had ever worried about his reputation before. It took him a moment to find a response. "I assure you, I do not give a damn for what Society thinks of me."

"Well, I do. Furthermore, I'm sure there is no need to point out that if we are found together in an awkward situation such as this, you will be obliged to marry me out of hand. I have already inconve­nienced you enough, my lord. I would not wish you to be leg-shackled in a marriage you undoubtedly cannot want."

Sebastian cleared his throat. "Well, as to that, Prue, I've been thinking—"

"Hurry, I hear footsteps in the hall."

Sebastian frowned. He heard them, too. Mrs. Leacock's trusty footmen were hastening to obey the summons of the bell. He glanced at the alarmed expression on Prudence's face and swore silently. She definitely did not have the appearance of a lady who wanted badly to be married out of hand.

He would have to give her more time. He was not yet done with this crazed courtship, he thought.

Sebastian picked up his boots, slung his greatcoat over his shoul­der, and went reluctantly to the window. He opened it and stepped out onto the ledge.

He paused there and looked back at Prudence. She looked so sweetly serious, her eyes anxious as she watched him leave. He re­membered how she had trembled in his arms.

Next time she shivered like that, he vowed silently, he would be buried deep inside her.

"Good night, Prue."

"Good night, Sebastian." Her smile glowed in the candlelight. "And thank you for your assistance tonight. I look forward to helping you solve your next case. I knew we would make an excellent team."

Life with Prue, Sebastian reflected as he made his way along the window ledge, was going to be maddening, infuriating, and alarming by turns, but he was definitely not going to be bored.

Or cold.