Desire

Chapter Fourteen

He cocked his head, contemplating her with tender amusement. “Do you actually need me to tell you what to do? The legendary siren who can inflame a man with merely a glance? ”

Brynn flushed, reluctant to initiate their love-making as Lucian demanded. It would be too wanton, and she had spent most of her life quelling any trace of wantonness.

“You could begin by taking off your nightdress,” he suggested helpfully. “It’s very arousing for a man to see a beautiful woman’s body.”

In all the weeks of their marriage, she had never undressed fully for him. “It is broad daylight,” Brynn muttered in protest.

“It is barely dawn. And making love at all hours of the day or night will help us achieve our aim.

“Come now, love,” Lucian prodded when she hesitated. “A bride can claim shyness for only so long. You will have to shed some of your inhibitions if you hope to keep me interested.”

Gathering her courage, Brynn drew her nightdress off and let it drop to the floor. His gaze fixed on her breasts, making her throat go dry.

“That’s better,” he murmured, his eyes sweeping her peaked nipples, then lower to the dark curls between her thighs. “Now then… I believe you were about to arouse me.”

She glanced down at the sheet, which barely draped his loins. The large ridge beneath clearly evinced the huge size of his erection. “I would say you are aroused quite enough already.”

He flashed a smile as tempting as sin itself. “Not nearly enough.” With a casual thrust of his leg, he pushed the sheet aside, exposing his magnificent body.

Brynn felt her breath catch at the sight of him. He was beautiful and lithe and strong, his shaft already darkly engorged. The thick swollen length rose nearly to his navel.

Moving his hands behind his head then, he laced them together at his nape. “I’m waiting, wife.”

His brazen attitude about his nakedness still flustered her, but it was the heat he roused in her that she deplored. “You don’t intend to help me?”

“Not at all. I intend to lie perfectly still and allow you to have your wicked way with me.”

Her flush deepened. “You cannot expect me to behave like a tart.”

“I can, love. I am your husband, remember? You needn’t be shy with me. You’ve seen my cock before, felt it. You’ve had it inside you, pleasuring you.”

She felt her inner muscles spasm at the thought of having that hard length inside her again, pleasuring her. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to move.

“Shall I show you?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He reached down and touched himself. “Watch what I’m doing, Brynn.” He took his rigid length in his hand, curling his fingers around the base, slowly stroking the huge shaft, mesmerizing her with his boldness. Her gaze remained riveted on him as he moved lower, cupping the swollen sacs, which made his erection jerk and tighten against his groin.

His voice was a bit huskier when he spoke. “Now it’s your turn. Touch me like that. You can arouse me with the slightest caress.”

Taking a deep breath, she moved her hand to his thigh. It was rock hard to the touch, dusted with silky hair. “I am still not certain what to do…”

“Use your instincts. You are totally in command.”

This beautiful, elegant man was her husband. She had the right to touch him, indeed, the duty. She reached for him.

He tensed when her own fingers curled around his rigid flesh. Brynn felt a strange sense of triumph as the thick shaft surged in her hand, hot and hard and pulsing with life. She explored him with her touch for a moment before he urged her to greater boldness.

“Use your mouth, love. Taste me.”

She bent to him, tentative as she touched him with her tongue. He was hot and silken and so very fascinating. She smelled the hot musk of his arousal.

“You taste silky… and mysterious,” she whispered.

The raw sound from his throat might have been a laugh or a groan. “You can investigate the mystery for as long as you wish, sweet.”

Experimentally, she let her lips slide down over the swollen tip. Lucian gave a soft groan and closed his eyes. Gaining courage, she took more of him in her mouth, gently suckling him while her fingers stroked his heavy testicles. She might have gone on for some time, but he suddenly pulled away, his hand tangling in her hair.

“You had best stop,” he said, his voice rasping, “before I spend myself in your mouth.”

Brynn felt another surge of triumph to realize Lucian wasn’t as complacent as he pretended. But then neither was she. Her skin was fevered; her flesh ached to be even closer to him. When he drew her up to straddle him, she went willingly, almost melting against him when he took her breast in her mouth.

As he suckled her quivering nipple, Brynn gave a gasp and arched against him.

“I believe I’m aroused enough. Are you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. She was incredibly aroused. The ache between her thighs was a fiery throbbing, while her nipples had hardened to stiff crimson buds.

“Don’t fight it then. Come here and let me taste you.”

He held her hips, almost lifting her up so that her thighs straddled his shoulders. “Even closer, Brynn.”

She shivered at the raw demand in his voice.

Drawing her nearer, he raised his head to press a hard, hot kiss to her soft mound. Brynn felt a shaft of liquid fire shoot through her.

She clutched at his hair as his tongue deliberately delved into her quivering cleft. The incendiary sensation of his mouth stunned her. Aching with delight, she tried to pull away, but Lucian refused to allow it. He had taken control in some wild and thrilling way and would not be denied.

Gripping her hips with both hands to steady her, he tasted and nipped and licked, running his long, rasping tongue up and then down her swollen folds, stroking the engorged bud of her femininity. Intense pleasure shot darkly through her like spears of flame, its white heat searing her.

Brynn gasped, writhing restlessly against the unrelenting caress of his tongue. She was hot and feverish… and suddenly she could no longer remain still. She arched and exploded in a shuddering climax, grinding her pubis against his blazing, eager mouth.

She was still moaning helplessly as the savage ripples died away, but no sooner had she started to sag limply in Lucian’s arms than he shifted her bodily, lowering her onto his swollen shaft. Gritting his teeth, he thrust urgently into her, forcing her to yet another fierce climb toward brutal, exquisite sensation. In only moments she was writhing again. She bucked against him as he plunged even more deeply, almost sobbing. Soon wave after wave of rapture racked her quivering body, until finally he relented and sought his own shattering explosion.

Brynn collapsed bonelessly on his chest. She lay dazed, her hair tumbled and wild around them, Lucian’s ragged breathing harsh in her ear, the taste of him lingering on her lips.

“That was adequate enough for your first effort, wife,” he murmured wryly, “but you will have to do better than that in future.”

The barest hint of laughter edged his passion-weary voice, making her realize he was deliberately provoking her. Yet Brynn could barely find the energy to retort. “Perhaps it was your tutelage at fault, rather than my efforts.”

“Perhaps. I see I should teach you other ways to arouse me.”

She lifted her head from his bare shoulder. “There are other ways?”

His mouth curved in a rakish smile. “Indeed. There are any number of methods.”

“What is wrong with what I just did?”

“Nothing was wrong-in fact, it was very right. But you don’t want me to grow bored, do you? If you learn to keep me satisfied, it stands to reason I will be more willing to accommodate your sexual needs, and that you will be more likely to conceive. Isn’t that what you want? To conceive a child so you can be done with me?”

Brynn gazed down into his blue, blue eyes. She could feel him swelling again inside her, huge and hot and potent. “Yes,” she lied. “That is what I want.”

“Well then, wife,” he said huskily, drawing her mouth down to his. “We had best move on to the next lesson.”

Lucian proved quite serious about requiring Brynn to initiate their lovemaking. He insisted that she come to his bed and wouldn’t allow her to confine their frequent sessions to merely the dark hours of night.

He also made good on his pledge to teach her to arouse him, showing her how to move, how to caress, how to pleasure. Brynn was sometimes shocked by the intimacies he suggested, but he had only to coax her with his tantalizing brand of charm, and her body melted to his touch. She was helpless against such overwhelming sensuality and raw magnetism. Thus it relieved her greatly to develop defensive weapons of her own to use in their erotic battles.

She had always possessed the power to incite masculine desire, but under his tutelage, Brynn developed the skills to purposely drive a man wild. Her newfound mastery worked even on Lucian, whose legendary tastes had become jaded and acutely discriminating.

Within a few days of commencing her lessons, she was able to demonstrate the extent of her expanded powers. They lay in his bed, with Brynn draped over her husband, lazily pressing kisses along his naked chest, his hard, flat belly, his swelling erection. When she eventually took him in her mouth, Lucian quivered like a stallion. Moments later, he clenched his teeth and drew away with a groan.

“What is wrong?” she asked curiously, though not with any real concern.

“You know very well what is wrong, wife. Enduring your torment is an agony.”

Brynn smiled, triumphant to know this man trembled for her. Deliberately she smoothed her hands up his torso and drew her tongue along his throbbing sex, teasing the sensitive ridge. “Pray tell, how do I torment you?”

Taking her by surprise, Lucian rolled over her, pinning her lightly beneath his weight. His eyes dark with desire, he gazed down at her with unexpected seriousness. “Your very remoteness, love. Even when you are provoking me to savage hunger, you remain distant.” His frown deepened as he brushed a flaming tendril from her forehead. “You hide your passion behind a deliberate coolness, which only makes a man burn for you all the more.”

Brynn forced a smile, not at all convinced that her attempt at coolness was succeeding. “Is that not what I am supposed to be learning? How to make you burn for me?”

“Devil it is. And it’s damned effective,” he murmured against her lips.

Drawing him down, she surrendered to his kiss, eager to distract him from his probing scrutiny. She was indeed desperately struggling to repress any emotion, any feeling for Lucian, yet maintaining a strict detachment was proving lamentably arduous.

Making love to him was no longer a duty she resented. No longer merely a means to achieve her goal of conceiving his child. She wanted Lucian. She wanted to arouse his hunger. Wanted to feel the hot rise of his desire, the hot tremor of his flesh between her thighs, moving inside her. She had begun to crave his touch with a dismaying intensity.

If she managed to hide her response, it was only due to years of practice, presenting a chill facade to her admirers. But he had only to caress her to send blood rushing through her veins, filling her with hot yearning. She had only to glimpse the passion flaming in his eyes to feel an answering passion burning deep within her own body. She could feel his enchantment, drawing her ever closer, tugging on her heartstrings, pushing her toward the dark inferno of an impossible dilemma.

The magnitude of the danger became even clearer a fortnight later when her dearest friend, Meredith, finally arrived in London with her husband, Viscount Audley, and their new infant son. Meredith had retired from society when her pregnancy became obvious but had returned in time for the Little Season.

For a duke’s daughter, Meredith was not at all arrogant or highbrowed. In both disposition and looks, she resembled a cheerful, pretty Cupid, with her pleasantly plump figure and laughing mouth and short blond curls. Brynn called on her at the first opportunity and received a fervent welcome. After catching up on Meredith’s account of her pregnancy, they went upstairs to admire the napping baby Rupert, who promptly woke and began fussing.

“May I hold him?” Brynn asked.

“Of course. Although don’t be upset if he spits on your gown. I cannot tell you how many bodices he has ruined.”

“I won’t mind. Theo regularly spit up on me when he was a baby.”

Brynn took the mewling infant in her arms and immediately began rocking him, reminded of the countless hours she had soothed her baby brother after their mother’s untimely death in childbirth. To Brynn’s delight, Rupert shortly stopped his fretting and gave her a gurgling smile.

She winced, unprepared for the sweet, responsive pangs in her breast as she cradled the darling child or the powerful maternal instincts he stirred. Perhaps her reaction was because she missed her youngest brother so dreadfully. Or perhaps because the thought of conceiving Lucian’s child had been so much on her mind of late…

“You should see yourself, Brynn,” her friend observed quietly. “You are positively glowing.”

Pressing a tender kiss on Rupert’s silken forehead, Brynn smiled. “I have always wanted a child of my own.”

“But not a husband?”

“No, not a husband.”

“Well, marriage obviously agrees with you.”

Brynn didn’t reply.

“So do you ever mean to satisfy my curiosity? I was never so shocked in my life as when I received your letter informing me you had wed Wycliff. I gather he proposed because of the curse, but I thought you meant never to marry. I am simply dying to know how it came about. Especially since he was considered such a profoundly elusive prize.”

Brynn bit back a sigh, knowing she couldn’t avoid her dearest friend’s pointed questions, no matter how intimate. “I did not have much choice. My family’s financial circumstances had grown dire. And Lord Wycliff offered to fund Theo’s education.”

“Are you happy, then? I couldn’t deduce a thing from your letters.”

“Happy?” Brynn went still, dismayed to realize her feelings of late had indeed bordered on happiness. Dangerously so.

“I am happy enough,” she murmured. “At least now. The initial weeks were… exceedingly disagreeable. We fought all the time. Lucian purchased me for a broodmare, and I resented his high-handedness-so much that I fear I became a shrew. We were both miserable.”

“But it is better now?”

She looked away. “We no longer quarrel, thankfully. We came to a truce of sorts.”

“Well, you could not expect two strangers to get along perfectly. And I should think you wouldn’t find the marriage bed in the least unpleasant. Wycliff is rumored to be quite a passionate man, for all his elegance and sophistication. You don’t mean to tell me the rumors lie?”

Brynn felt herself flush. “No, they don’t lie.”

“And that is what worries you?” Meredith asked. “It’s only natural that you would be swayed by his legendary charm. Wycliff has never had the least trouble winning female hearts. But there is real danger if you come to fall in love with him.”

“Yes,” Brynn agreed. She was finding it more and more difficult to battle the unexpected threat to her heart. She was becoming ensnared in Lucian’s potent spell, just as she’d feared she would be. “I admit,” she said in a low voice, “that terrifies me.”

Meredith gazed at her in sympathy. “So what do you mean to do?”

“I don’t know,” Brynn murmured. “I don’t dare let myself become too enamored of him. That is why I… We made a pact. Lucian agreed that after I bear him an heir, we can go our separate ways.”

Meredith’s expression showed dismay. “Separate ways? Does that mean you would have to give up your child to him?”

Brynn felt her heart lurch. Absurdly, she hadn’t considered that far into the future, although she certainly should have. Lucian wanted a son so badly, he would never allow her to keep their child if she left him.

“Could you endure that?” her friend asked quietly.

Brynn’s throat tightened. “I’m not certain I could.”

“Well,” Meredith said with sudden cheerful briskness, “there is no use stewing over that bridge until you must cross it. And perhaps by then you will have found a way to break the curse.”

Brynn stared, struck by her friend’s casual remark. Was it possible the curse could be broken?

“Perhaps so,” she murmured slowly, not daring to let herself hope.

Her defenses, however, suffered yet another blow the following week. Brynn was about to descend to breakfast when she heard a commotion issuing from the floor above. Curiously mounting the service stairs, she followed the din to the serving maids’ dormer. To her dismay, she found her maid, Meg, on her knees, sobbing, while the housekeeper stood over her, railing at the frightened girl.

Both women ceased their clamor when they caught sight of Brynn, but almost instantly Meg burst into renewed weeping.

“Oh, milady,” she pleaded, “don’t let her turn me out!”

“Be quiet, you disgraceful girl!” Mrs. Poole snapped.

“What seems to be the problem?” Brynn asked coolly.

“She is in the family way.” The housekeeper pointed at the maid’s stomach, adding in a revolted tone, “Look at that!”

The thin nightdress did nothing to disguise the girl’s thickening belly, while a chamber pot stood beside an unmade cot, attesting to at least one bout of morning sickness.

With effort, Brynn swallowed her shock. The sweet, timid Meg was the last person she would have suspected of bearing a child out of wedlock. She had never noticed the girl’s condition until now, perhaps because she’d been so wrapped up in her own affairs.

“I found her lazing abed, too ill to work,” the housekeeper went on. “Then I discovered this and dismissed her.”

“I beg you, milady,” Meg entreated, “don’t let her-”

“I told you to hush!” Striking savagely, Mrs. Poole slapped Meg’s face, making her cry out.

Outraged, Brynn moved between them. “That will be quite enough, Mrs. Poole!”

“A box on the ears is not nearly enough! She deserves to be soundly thrashed for her wicked behavior.”

Brynn narrowed her eyes. “If you dare strike her again, you will be the one dismissed.”

Mrs. Poole pointed again at the quaking maid. “I won’t have this shameless wanton in my employ!”

“I don’t believe that is your decision to make.”

The housekeeper drew herself upright, quivering with rage. “Choosing the household staff has always been my purview. Mine and Mr. Naysmith’s.”

“Perhaps it was, but I am mistress here now.” Brynn glanced down at the girl. “Do get up, Meg. The floor cannot be comfortable.”

Trembling, Meg obeyed. “Please, milady…” She latched desperately on to Brynn’s arm, evidently seeing her as a savior. “What will become of me if I’m thrown into the street?”

“You will not be thrown into the street,” Brynn assured her.

The housekeeper made a rude, scoffing sound. “She will not even disclose the father of her bastard- if she even knows his name.”

Meg’s shoulders stiffened, while her weeping subsided the slightest degree. “Certainly I know it. I just won’t tell you.”

“You disgraceful jezebel,” Mrs. Poole interjected, “luring some man into sin-” She broke off suddenly, flushing as she glanced over Brynn’s shoulder, toward the doorway. “M-my lord…”

Lucian stood there, surveying the three women curiously.

Brynn felt herself stiffen. It reflected badly on all three of them that not only had his lordship’s peace been upset, but that he was required to visit the servants’ quarters to investigate the cause. Yet discomfiting Lucian wasn’t what worried her; rather, his presence roused her protective instincts.

She had no idea how he would react to such a major transgression by one of his young servants- whether he would endorse Meg’s dismissal or show leniency because of his own rakish past. It would be better for the girl, Brynn realized, if she could handle the problem herself. She would no doubt have a fight on her hands with the housekeeper, though.

“That will be all, Mrs. Poole,” Brynn said before the woman could speak up. “You may go.”

The housekeeper raised her chin stubbornly. “I should like to hear what his lordship has to say about the matter, my lady.”

“We needn’t trouble his lordship.” She sent Lucian a faint smile. “I regret the disturbance. It will not happen again.”

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a long look, then glanced at the housekeeper, who had pursed her lips as if she had swallowed vinegar.

“I trust you understand, Mrs. Poole,” Lucian said mildly, “that Lady Wycliff is mistress here. She commands household matters.”

His implied threat made the housekeeper’s starch wilt. “Yes, of course, my lord,” she answered meekly.

As rigid as stone, Mrs. Poole turned away, daring only a brief, scathing glance at Meg before she left the room.

Brynn flashed her husband a genuine smile this time, grateful that he had chosen not to undermine her authority. Her influence was shaky enough, given that her marriage to Lucian had been so contentious in the past. The servants could not have failed to see the chill between them.

Lucian was still watching her. “I had hoped I might have the pleasure of your company for breakfast, my love,” he said lightly.

“I will be down directly, but… I would like a few moments here first.”

“Certainly. I shall see you shortly.”

When he was gone, Brynn took one look at Meg and urged her to lie down.

“Thank you, milady,” Meg replied, looking green around the mouth.

“Perhaps I should summon the doctor.”

“I am fine, truly. This will pass. My sister always had this trouble when she was breeding.”

When the girl curled up on her mattress, Brynn went to the washstand. Wetting one corner of a cloth, she glanced around the austere chamber with its rows of cots. It was not a particularly pleasant place to live-cold in winter and sweltering in summer. Certainly Meg could not remain here to bear her child. Not only would it set a poor example for the other servants, but a baby could not be raised here. Some other solution would have to be found.

Returning to sit beside the invalid, Brynn applied the damp cloth to the girl’s sweating brow. After a moment Meg’s nausea seemed to pass, and she opened her eyes.

“You are so kind, milady.”

Brynn returned a smile. “Would you care to tell me what happened?”

Meg dropped her gaze. “I am weak and wicked, I know, but I did not seduce him as Mrs. Poole said. It is just that he was so handsome…”

“Who is the father, Meg?” Brynn asked gently. “You should not have to bear this difficulty alone.”

The girl’s lower lip trembled. “I would rather not say. I don’t want to get him into trouble.”

“Meg, I cannot help you if I don’t understand your situation.”

“It makes no matter, anyway. He doesn’t want to wed me. But… it’s… John, milady. John Hotchkiss. He’s underfootman for Lord Bonamy, across the square.”

Brynn hesitated. “Does your John know about the child?”

“He knows.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes.

“And what does he have to say about it? ”

“He fears dismissal if he were to offer for me… Even if he could gain permission, he has no money to afford a wife. I don’t think he wants to be leg-shackled.” Meg covered her face with her hands. “It only happened twice. I never thought…”

She didn’t believe she would be so fertile, Brynn mentally concluded the unspoken sentence.

“And I never thought I would have a by-blow,” the girl moaned. “My mum would die of shame if she were alive to see it. And my sister… she is sure to disown me.”

“Do you have any other family you could live with?”

“No, milady. Just a brother who works in the mills.”

Brynn patted her shoulder, wanting to offer comfort. “Well, we will think of something.”

Looking up abruptly, Meg grasped her hand and gave it a fervent kiss. “Milady, you are truly an angel.”

Flushing, Brynn rose to her feet. “Try to get some rest, Meg. I need a little time to consider what to do.”

She summoned the butler and asked him to send for the doctor, then joined Lucian in the breakfast parlor. When he looked up from the morning paper, Brynn was struck again by the intense blue of his eyes.

“I gather peace has been restored?” he commented when she was settled at the table and the footmen had withdrawn.

“Yes, at least for now.” She could have allowed the subject to drop, but felt a need to express her gratitude. “Thank you for supporting me with Mrs. Poole. She tends to question my authority.”

Lucian gave an elegant shrug. “It was nothing. You are mistress here. You may run the household as you see fit-for as long as you remain.”

He was alluding to their bargain, she realized. Brynn lowered her gaze to her coffee cup.

“I trust the difficulty is not of great magnitude?”

“Nothing that cannot be resolved.”

“Would you care to discuss it? Perhaps I can help.”

She gave Lucian a questioning glance, wondering at his sincerity. “Is the pin money you allotted me mine to spend as I wish?” she said finally.

“Of course. And so is the household allowance. Why do you ask? ”

Brynn took a deep breath, gambling that she could trust him. “Because my maid is with child by one of the footmen across the square, and I should like to help her.”

“I see,” Lucian replied, his expression enigmatic.

Despite her determination to remain calm, Brynn felt herself growing defensive. “I will not have her turned out, as Mrs. Poole intended, Lucian. What Meg did was wrong, but she should not be the only one to suffer. The sin was her lover’s as well. I strongly suspect he seduced her, but even if not, it isn’t fair that the girl must be punished while the man can evade the consequences with complete impunity! ”

“No, it isn’t fair,” Lucian agreed mildly. “I will give you no argument there.”

When a wry smile curled his mouth, Brynn regarded him with suspicion. “I fail to see how my poor maid’s dilemma could be cause for amusement.”

“I wasn’t thinking of her dilemma but of your bluestocking tendencies. I was picturing how your notions of equality would sit with most of my peers.”

“Most of your peers are pompous stuffed shirts who believe women were put on this earth merely to serve them!”

“Calm down, love. We are not at odds here. Your passion is admirable.”

Her cheeks flushed, but her hackles settled down. Perhaps there was no need for belligerence after all.

“There is a simple answer to avoiding an illegitimate child,” Lucian observed. “The couple can marry.”

“Meg doesn’t think her footman would be allowed to wed without losing his position with Lord Bonamy.”

“I have influence with Bonamy. I’m sure I can persuade him to intervene. Her footman can be compelled to marry the girl, if need be.”

“But I don’t want her to be compelled to accept marriage against her will the way-” Brynn broke off. The way I was, was what she meant to say. Seeing understanding register in his blue eyes, Brynn bit her lip.

“I know,” she explained more diplomatically, “you might find it hard to understand, given your gender and your exalted rank, but for a woman, marriage can be worse than servitude. You have no idea what it is like to be subject to someone else’s every whim, to have no rights other than the ones your husband chooses to bestow upon you.”

His eyebrows rose. “Have I been so overbearing, then?”

“No… not entirely. But it isn’t pleasant to be totally at your mercy. How would you like it if you were dependent on me for every morsel of food, every scrap of clothing? If I could arbitrarily overrule your smallest decision, such as what friends you associated with? Or if I threatened to send you to the country if you disobeyed me?” As you threatened me. She could see Lucian’s comprehension.

“I wouldn’t care for it at all,” he murmured.

“Of course not. And Meg should not be made to wed her lover if she doesn’t wish to. I’m not certain she is in love with him, and I seriously doubt he is with her. He might resent having to pay for his transgressions, and Meg would bear the brunt of his anger. She would be better off alone than being pressed upon a husband who doesn’t want her, being forced to endure a bitter union.”

Thoughtfully, Lucian shook his head. “I’m not convinced even a bitter union would be worse than rearing a bastard alone.”

“Perhaps not, but the choice should be hers. I intend to provide for her, Lucian. At the very least to make certain that she has somewhere to live.”

“A better solution would be to dower the girl. Sweeten the pot, so to speak, so her lover will see her as a prize rather than a burden.”

Brynn pursed her lips in contemplation. Lucian’s suggestion did have practical merit. If finances were the major impediment, then dowering the maid would certainly smooth the path to a happier union. And it would allow her to avoid rearing a bastard alone, which would prove incredibly difficult…

“That might be a solution,” Brynn replied slowly. “But I will have to see what Meg says first.”

“Speak to her, by all means. But in either case, there is no reason for you to use your pin money. My pockets are deep enough to provide a dowry for a serving maid.”

“You would do that for her?”

“Not for her. For you.”

When she was silent, Lucian gave her a long look. “I’m not quite the villain you think me, love,” he said softly.

“I don’t think you a villain,” Brynn replied. Indeed, he was far kinder than she wanted him to be. And it was becoming increasingly impossible to remain impervious when Lucian wielded such weapons to assault her defenses.

She averted her gaze from his quietly measuring one. They might have determined a solution to her maid’s difficulty, but her own dilemma was becoming more profound by the minute.

If Brynn was torn by the incident, Lucian was more so. Their conversation rang in his head long after it had ended. Her passionate insistence that her maid be allowed to choose her future only drove home how he’d wronged Brynn when he bought her in marriage against her fervent protests, denying her the same choice.

He’d seen her as a prize to be claimed, thought only of his own wishes, determined to use his vast wealth or any other means necessary to assure victory.

He greatly regretted his arrogance now. He had underestimated Brynn from the first, viewing her merely as a temptress and a prime receptacle for his seed. But she was far more than a tempting, fertile body. It wasn’t surprising that she would be protective of her brothers, especially her youngest, but that she actually cared what happened to her dependents…

Lucian knew how unusual such compassion was. While beauty and good lineage-and even brains and spirit-were not uncommon attributes among the ladies of his acquaintance, a kind heart was a rarity.

Admittedly, Brynn’s unexpected depth made her all the more alluring. He’d never met another woman whose touch produced such a blaze of desire in him, and yet he had come to admire his bride as well as lust after her. He wanted her more deeply with each passing day.

Despite his fevered dreams of Brynn, wakening next to her was an unaccountable joy. Wrapped in flaming drifts of her hair, enveloped by her warmth and feminine scent, he felt a contentment that he had never before experienced. She was the most elusive woman he’d ever known-and her sheer elusiveness only strengthened his primitive urge to bind her to him in any way he could.

Getting her with child might provide that bond. Yet he wanted Brynn to want their child. To want their marriage. He wanted to win her affections.

It required every ounce of willpower he possessed to allow Brynn to dictate the pace. He had hoped that given time, she would realize that her fears were primarily in her mind. Yet he didn’t seem to be making much headway.

Dare was right, Lucian knew. He would have far better success in courting Brynn if he could get her alone. His London house was simply too full of servants and hangers-on to allow the kind of privacy that was conducive to courtship. His country seat would perhaps allow them more opportunity to be alone, but he couldn’t leave London just now when word of Caliban might come at any moment.

Thus far his best agents had failed to discover any further leads regarding the mastermind of the gold-smuggling ring. Philip Barton had returned from France empty-handed.

At least Dare had been enlisted to help flush out Lord Caliban’s identity. Dare had initially laughed at the notion of becoming a spy, but rather quickly he’d decided to view it as a challenge; pitting wits against an elusive, dangerous traitor was the ultimate game for him.

With Dare searching for Caliban, Lucian could devote himself to wooing his bride with a trace less guilt. And suddenly wooing Brynn had become the most important thing in the world to him.