Wedded in Scandal

Chapter 12

It nearly killed Robert to wait for her answer. He knew she wanted to say yes. Her body was already straining for him, her sweet perfume making him half crazed with lust. Her gaze held his, and in it, he read desire, excitement, and a sweet regret.

“N—”

He kissed her. Whatever word was on her lips was erased beneath his onslaught, his gentle domination as he moved his mouth across hers. Then he invaded her as a man ought, with steady pressure and thorough command. She was untutored, so he instructed, he teased, and he thrust himself inside.

She gasped and might have pulled back, but there was nowhere for her to go. He had positioned her with her back against a chair. And besides, he had his arm behind her, the bulk of his body to her side, and his other hand slowly wrapping across her front. When she was fully inside his embrace, he would ease her to the floor. There was a pillow there, conveniently placed. And once he had her on her back, everything would proceed exactly as it ought.

That was his plan, and he knew it would work. She was already arching into his kiss, her body stretching for him, her arm slowly wrapping around his back. But why was she reaching high? She should be clutching him as he overwhelmed her senses, not stretching up so she could reach…

She grabbed hold of his hair and yanked. His head jerked back with a cry.

“Ow!”

Her expression was the ultimate in innocence. “I’m sorry, my lord. Did your head get caught on something? Perhaps it was my word. I believe I said no.”

She released his hair and folded her hands primly in her lap. Meanwhile, he was feeling to see if she’d left any hair on his head. Clearly she was a woman who took things at her own pace. He would just have to go slower. And while he was thinking this, she was trying to put them on a more equal footing.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? About your mine?”

He sighed, his thoughts immediately wandering to the problems he had there. It would be good for him to talk it out. It would clear his mind and fill the time before he tried to kiss her again.

“I received yet another letter from the man I promoted to manager. Charlie is his name. Good man, but young. Maybe that was my mistake. The other men don’t respect him.”

She sniffed. “I find that reasons like youth are just excuses. Men invariably do what they intend and damn the circumstances.”

He frowned. “That’s a hell of a cynical attitude.” Too late he realized he had cursed in front of her, but she merely shrugged.

“Johnny Bono will take advantage of whoever comes along if he can. Male, female, young or old, his intention is to feed his appearance of power and virility.”

“Swear to me that you will never do business with that bastard again.”

She shrugged. “I certainly hope I won’t have to. As for your miners, look to their actions. What are their intentions? Then find some way to either use that intention or fire them. You really have no other choice.”

He frowned, startled by her logical thinking. If he weren’t staring right at her, he would swear the advice came from a man. Meanwhile, he was trying to follow her words to their logical conclusion.

“Charlie writes that the previous manager has been stirring up the men. I understand Hutchins well enough. He wants his job back. But I am making the mine better, safer for these men. Why would they turn on me?”

“They’re not turning on you,” she snorted. “You are a viscount and perforce believe that everything relates to you. You make logical steps toward the improvement of their lives, and you don’t understand why everyone doesn’t fall into line with your ideas.”

He sighed. “It has certainly worked before.”

“Or you have merely had the money and the distance to do what you deemed necessary and didn’t look any closer.” She tilted her head and the firelight caught on the delicate tracery of veins in her neck. Her skin was so fine, it seemed almost transparent. Clean and clear. He vowed he’d never seen so beautiful a neck. “What has changed, my lord? Why are you struggling with this business venture and not the others?”

He was so caught up in the sight of her flawless skin that he didn’t at first catch her words. But she was looking at him so frankly, as if expecting an answer.

“My lord?”

“Robert,” he admonished, though the word was automatic. His mind was caught on the shocking realization that she was figuring out the one thing that he kept carefully hidden.

“Very well, Robert. Tell me the truth. Are you really worried about the mine? Or was this just a ruse to get me alone?”

“Yes, I am worried,” he said.

“And yes, it was a ruse. That part I already knew. But if you are truly worried about the miners, then perhaps you should be a bit more specific. What exactly are they doing that is so worrisome?”

He sighed. “Someone has vandalized the equipment. I purchased new carts and ponies to pull them, but someone has destroyed the new ones.” Normally he would just buy new carts and post guards for as long as was needed, and thereby enforce his plans for long enough that the people accepted the new status quo. That was what he had done for his father’s other investments. Eventually the people saw that their lives were better off and accepted the changes. But he hadn’t the money to do such a thing right then. And so he was in the awkward position of having to try to appease vandals and worse.

“Have you posted guards?”

“I have instructed Charlie to do so, but what if those that work as guards are the very ones doing the damage?”

“Can Charlie hire from outside the town? Or would that just be seen as outsiders trying to step in where they aren’t wanted?”

He nodded, impressed again. “You understand my dilemma.”

“I understand stepping into a new place, a new business, and trying to learn the rules. Fortunately I had Wendy to teach me, just as you have Charlie. What does he suggest?”

He grimaced. “That we hire the children again. He believes that is why the carts were destroyed, so that I would be forced to hire the children again.”

“Then I think you should listen to him.”

He straightened. “Did you not hear me talk about the horrendous conditions there? Would you send your child into that pit? Never seeing the sun, in constant danger of fire or gas or cave-in? I have a hard enough time allowing the women to work, but to use children is monstrous!”

She didn’t answer. She was looking at him with her head tilted, her hair slipping free to dangle about her shoulder. He saw the beauty of her skin again, and his eyes were drawn to it, as well as to lower down where the soft mounds of her breasts were revealed.

“How tight is your money, Robert? Do you have the funds to force your opinion on these people? To pay the children to go to school?”

He grimaced. Yes, she had figured him out exactly. “No,” he snapped. “No, I do not.”

“Then I am afraid you will have to compromise your ethics in favor of slow change, slow growth. You can work to fire the children, one by one, later. But not just yet.”

He looked at her and knew she had come to the exact crux of the problem. He was not a man who compromised easily, and certainly not on the welfare of children. He couldn’t erase the sight of those bones in the tunnel, the ones placed specifically to frighten the children.

“I hate the idea of a child going down in that hole.” So saying, he flopped onto his back. The place where he had meant to lay her down ended up being the pillow for his own head. He stared up at the ceiling and he tried not to see those bones again.

He didn’t. He saw her face as she leaned over him. She touched his cheek, her hand warm, her expression filled with beauty. “You are an overbearing, pompous, opinionated man, my lord. But you are also a good man.”

He waited a moment, deciding whether he would be insulted by her words or not. In the end, he decided she was too beautiful to be at odds with.

“Will you kiss me now?” he asked. “To make me feel better about stealing the sun from little children?”

She laughed. “Of course.” Then she leaned down and planted a quick kiss to his forehead. He was prepared, though. Once she was close, he slid his hand behind her neck. And when she would have pulled away, he did not release her.

“You know,” he said right next to her ear, “you have offended my lordly sensibilities.”

“Have I?” she asked. Her voice was breathy, but no less clear. “By calling you overbearing?”

“And pompous and opinionated.”

“Do you deny the charge?”

“Of course not. It is part of my aristocratic heritage. I would not be allowed the title were I not.”

She arched her brow. “There is overbearing, and then there is overbearing.”

“Kiss me again.”

“See, there you are, ordering me—”

He did not allow her more time. He pulled her close and used all his skill. She was in the superior position, so he could not dominate her as was his usual method. Instead, he tried to tempt, to ask, and to cling. This ended up working much too well. Usually when he took his pleasure from a woman, he controlled the pace, making sure they both ended up satisfied.

But in this position, he was forced to please and not take. But it made him crazy with lust. If he allowed it to continue, he would go too fast. He would forget her and take what he wanted. This time, it was he who broke away.

“Helaine,” he gasped. And when he had no more words, he looked back at her, traced her swollen lips with his thumb, and calculated the force he would need to flip her on her back.

She must have read his intention. She must have seen that he was on the edge of his control, because she pulled back, her eyes wide with alarm. It should have cooled his lust, but with distance he could see more of her. He saw how her skin was flushed and her nipples were tightly pressed against her dress. He caught her wrist, holding her beside him when she would have run. “You must know this is why I asked you here today.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“So why do you run?”

She bit her lip, and he found the sight too gamine. She was not a woman who gave in to games. She was clearly torn, her desire at war with her good sense. He wanted her to cease this indecision and choose him. Choose the pleasure they could share.

“I will not hurt you, Helaine,” he said. “Though I have never done it before, I know how to initiate a virgin.”

She blanched at that, her gaze slipping from his face to his chest, but stopping there. At that point, he realized that perhaps she was not acting gamine. Perhaps she really did not know what he was about.

He needed to be more blunt. She was a woman who would be nervous where she did not understand. So he took her hand. She was trembling, resisting his caress, so he simply held her such that her palm pressed against his heart.

“Do you feel that?” he asked. “That is what you do to me. My heart is pounding for you.”

She swallowed, but didn’t speak. Then he slowly drew her hand downward. If she was reluctant before, now she was downright alarmed. But he didn’t release her, and in time her curiosity overcame her fear. Plus, he was relentless, pushing her hand down until she felt the full length and girth of him beneath his clothing.

“Oh!” she gasped. “It’s so hot!”

He didn’t speak. His eyes were rolling back from the pleasure. God, what he wouldn’t give to strip out of his clothing right this instant, to feel her flesh stroking him, kissing him, taking his whole length between her thighs. He wanted that almost as much as he wanted to never move, to never end the sweet torment of her hand on him.

“I know the mechanics,” she said. “Mama explained it to me years ago. I just…I don’t understand how it can happen.”

She was petting him slowly, measuring the size of him, and he was breathless from the exquisiteness of her exploration.

“We will fit,” he managed, though he had precious little control of his reason. “This I swear to you. We will fit beautifully.”

She did not remove her hand, but her touch slowed, her strokes stopped. A moment later, he was able to open his eyes and look at her.

“Don’t you understand?” she said softly. “Lying with you is such an irretrievable step. I know my reputation is already damned. I know it, and yet, someday there might be a man who loves me. I would want to go to our wedding night a virgin.”

He nodded. He understood her words, but they were at distinct odds with her actions. “Why did you come here tonight?”

She laughed, and he heard desperation in the sound. “Do you know how long it has been since someone talked to me about anything but clothing and money? Since a…a man touched me the way I wanted to be touched?” She shook her head. “I could not force myself to give up this treat. But that does not mean I wish to be deflowered, either.”

She removed her hand from his body and placed it neatly in her lap. Her face held regret and longing, but nothing compared to the anguish he felt at the loss of her caress.

He cleared his throat, struggling to gather his wits. “As to deflowering, Helaine, there is much that can be done without loss of virginity.”

Her eyes widened and he could tell he’d surprised her. “Something beyond kissing?”

He groaned. “Did you imagine that there was nothing else? A kiss or the full deed?”

She bit her lip and looked toward the fire. “I had wondered, but there seemed little point in speculating.”

He pushed up onto his elbow so he could face her more closely. And then he stroked her cheek. He went slowly, their gazes locked, letting her stop him when he went too fast. She barely moved, and so he caressed her cheek, then rolled his thumb over her lips. Her mouth was open slightly and he could feel the moist curl of her breath around his thumb. Without breaking the connection of their gazes, he trailed his fingers down her neck and across her bodice. Her breath caught and held, but she did not stop him. And soon he was able to cup her breast in his palm and stroke his thumb across her tight nipple.

Her mouth opened even more, and her eyelids fluttered. She probably didn’t even realize it, but she also lifted her chest the tiniest bit so that she settled more fully into his palm.

“There is so much that can be done without the loss of virginity,” he said. “Will you trust me to be careful? To show you pleasure without taking your innocence?”

She grabbed his wrist, stilling his movements. “I believe my innocence is in tatters at my feet right now.”

Now he did smile. “There are different levels of innocence, don’t you think? How old are you, Helaine?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Much too old for naïveté. Any man who loves you will expect that you have experienced something of life.”

She pulled his hand away from her breast, but kept it between her palms as she rested them in her lap. She did not know what he could do to her with just a simple shift of his fingers.

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

He paused, wondering what he really did believe. “I think that there are more choices for women beyond wife and mistress. You are proof of that. You are a dressmaker and a business owner. And I think that if you choose to experience all that life can offer, then no man should damn you for it.”

“Just me,” she whispered. “And the man I might one day marry.”

“Is there a man?” He could scarce believe the alarm that shot through him at that thought. What if she had already selected someone? What if she knew—

“No one,” she said. “But I would like to think I could find love.” Her lips curved in a soft smile. “That is the wonder of not being the child of an earl. I have the luxury of marrying who I want. I can choose a man for love.”

He knew that she was in truth the daughter of an earl, but that an honorable marriage among his set was impossible. So perhaps she had the right of it. As plain Mrs. Mortimer, she did have options that he did not. She could marry any man she chose with no one to say she was marrying down.

“Mrs. Mortimer is not a virgin. Perhaps you should embrace your identity completely.”

She laughed at that, a sweet shimmer of sound that was real humor. “Surely you have better arguments than that, my lord.”

He smiled. “Only one. So much has been taken from you, Helaine. Allow me to give you an evening’s pleasure. That is why you came here, is it not? To have one evening of joy? I swear I will not take your virginity, my dear. Do you trust my word of honor?”

“Yes,” she said, though the word was barely more than a breath of air.

“Then kiss me again, Helaine. Place your hands here, on my chest.” He guided her palms to rest just below his shoulders. When the feelings became too intense, she could raise her arms to grip his shoulders or lower them to do what he had already taught her. “And let me give you something special.”

He kissed her. He went slowly because he had more respect for her now, and more awareness of her needs. He teased her lips, he stroked his tongue across the seam, and he slipped inside. He didn’t dominate, but he played with her. And when she relaxed into his kiss, he slid his hands around behind her back.

His fingers were deft as they slid the buttons from their holes. Her gown began to open, the shoulders slipping down. He felt her awareness of the change. Felt her tremble in anxiety, so he renewed his efforts with the kiss. And he slid his hands up from her buttons to stroke her bare flesh revealed. The base of her neck, the elegant curve of her shoulders, and the long sweep of her arms as he pushed her dress down.

Her chemise was in the way. It was a thin piece of cheap cotton, and he mentally decided to buy her a new one of sheerest silk. Especially since he had no patience with the thing. There were no straps, and he had no desire to break their kiss to lift it off her head.

He tore it, the flinch in his conscience eased by the decision to buy her a dozen new chemises. But it was nothing compared to her reaction. The low rasp as the fabric tore had her pulling back, her eyes wide and her lips wet from his kiss.

“What did you do?”

“Only this,” he said as he gently, slowly, and deliberately pulled her torn chemise from her body. It was still trapped beneath her gown, so the steady tug caressed her skin the way he wanted to. It abraded her nipples and made her shiver in delight. Or so he hoped.

“Trust me,” he whispered as he tossed the thing away. Her dress was barely held up, the neckline caught on the swell of her breasts. Her skin was flushed and her body taut. She was like a young deer torn between immobility and a full-out bolt. So he petted her as he would a terrified animal. He stroked his fingers gently along her shoulder, his thumb brushing the prominent line of her collarbone. Her skin was flushed, and her breath suspended, so he continued talking just to reassure her.

“Some nakedness is required, Helaine. But you can trust me.”

Then he leaned forward and began kissing along her neck. The position was awkward as she was sitting before him, her legs tucked to the side. But he managed to do what he needed. He pressed tiny kisses along her collarbone, to her sternum, then eventually to the top of her breast, where the gown restrained him.

He felt her relax into his attention, her breath easing out on a long sigh of delight. So he decided to be bolder. He lifted his hands, cupped a breast with one hand while the other tugged her gown down to her waist. Then, before she could react, he caught one pert nipple in his mouth and began to suck.

He could tell no one had done such a thing to her ever before. She perhaps had never even conceived that a man could do this. Her body arched as if it had been struck by lightning. Her hands rose immediately to his shoulders, holding him tightly.

He did not stop, did not release her. He began to suck in rhythmic timing that had her swaying forward and back in time to his motions. While one hand lifted her breast into the better position for his mouth, the other boldly gripped her free nipple and began to squeeze it.

She began to shake, her body coming alive beneath his mouth and hand. It was the work of a moment to ease her down to the floor, though he had to scramble at the last moment to cushion her head with the pillow. Now he had full movement with her reclined and him on his knees above her. There was so much he could do to her from this vantage point. But instead of pursuing her down, he took a moment to look at her.

She was naked from the waist up, and the fire continued to touch her skin with golden light. The rosy blush of her skin, the lifted puckering of her nipples, and the slightly dazed look in her eyes had his blood demanding more.

“Lift your hips,” he said, his hands going to where her dress pooled about her hips. “Let me see you naked.”

Her eyes widened, the dazed confusion rapidly shifting to alarm. “Robert…,” she began, but he wasn’t listening. He had the strength and the leverage he needed. He knew how to do this. His work with the patients at the Chandler had long since taught him how to quickly and efficiently strip a woman. So he did.

He pushed his hands beneath her slender body, looped his thumbs into the curve of her gown, and stripped the thing away. Between one breath and the next, her dress was gone. Except for her stockings and shoes, she was naked and laid out before him for the taking.