Any Wicked Thing (20 page)

The more he fucked her, the more he wanted to. There were several methods of lovemaking as yet unexplored. She'd been an apt pupil so far, not needing to be restrained to obey him. His cock twitched thinking of her blindfolded and spread-eagle on his bed. But then he thought how appealing her legs would be locked around his hips, her nails scoring his back, her hazy blue eyes drugged with lust. Truly, any scenario to his way of thinking was as good as another.

He took a deep breath of Yorkshire air, but it did nothing to clear his head or calm his cock. If he hustled, he could catch up with her, toss her on the ground and fuck her before teatime. The view would not be as compelling below, but it was hardly the scenery he was after.

Having years of experience getting in and out of his clothes in record time, he rolled up the cape and jogged down the path before Freddie had walked too far. She'd forgotten that abomination of a hat, and a fistful of her hairpins was in his pocket. She was battling her hair in the wind, which had picked up as the afternoon waned. Medusa-like strands blew across her face and she was looking even more irritated than she was earlier, if that were possible.

“Freddie! Hold up!”

She gave him a scathing look but didn't stop. He caught a fistful of hair and brought her to heel.

“Ouch! Unhand me, you devil!”

He did as she asked, watching a bronzy wave of hair get stuck in her mouth. “I've come with hats and hairpins, Freddie. Sit down and I'll make you presentable.” Turning away from him, she tripped on a stone on the path and he caught her before she fell to the ground. “There, see? I told you I'd be useful.”

He dropped the cloak again. Freddie looked at it with suspicion, as though she divined exactly what his purpose was. They were closer to the castle now, but still far enough away from prying eyes. He was as hard as the stone she tripped on, and she eyed his bulge with suspicion, too.

“I'm going to be
very
useful. Let's make up, Freddie. I'm sorry I quizzed you. It doesn't matter what you were thinking back then.”

“I wasn't thinking of anything. I told you I was drunk,” she said mulishly.

“I wish you were right now. You'd be a lot easier.” But she would do what he told her. She had to. “Lift your skirts first, and then we'll get to the matter of your toilette.”

Without a word, she lay back and bunched up the muslin. He noticed as he mounted her that her hooks were fastened incorrectly. He'd see to them later, too. Right now, he was sheathed in her decadently wet passage for a quick, hard fuck, because he was far too impatient for finesse. Even angry at him, Freddie seemed to have no objection, bucking beneath him and moaning. His last coherent thought before he spilled himself in her was that if she got pregnant, he might be forced to marry her after all. He'd have to be more careful in the future. His orgasm ripped like thunder through him, and then he remembered to kiss her. The entire event had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Could he manage the walk home? The lassitude was nearly overwhelming. Sebastian thought he could lie out here forever, teasing Freddie's soft skin with his fingertips. She was smooth everywhere save for her hands, which showed the evidence of her labors. But their roughness felt like welcome fire against him.

He was getting soft in the head, being led around by his cock. Freddie was a surprising diversion, but he must not lose sight of his needs. He'd given too much up to her already. Pleasant as it had been, it was time for him to regain control. His whip had been underused last evening.

Not that he would hurt her with it. Not as he had been hurt.

“Sebastian.”

“Mm.”

“The clouds.”

He flopped over on his back, his eyes still closed. “What of them?”

“Look to the west. It's going to rain.”

Reluctantly he stirred and squinted above. “Impossible. The sun is shining.”

“Storms come up quickly here. We really should get back.”

“And here I was feeling like Adam to your Eve. Except with too many clothes. Sit up and I'll straighten you out.”

He saw to himself first, then combed through her tangled hair with his fingers, pinning it up quite credibly with the hairpins he'd salvaged. He hooked her dress and brushed the blades of grass from her back. All the while she was too quiet, as still as a doll on the toy store shelf. He'd expected her to rail at him for the somewhat brutal tumble, but her pink lips stayed buttoned, her eyes downcast.

“There. Good as new.”

“I'll never be good again,” she said morosely.

“Why should you be, when bad is so much better?” he joked. She didn't smile.

Fine. He'd give her a few hours to herself. She was worn out from sex and sunshine, as was he. Sebastian helped Freddie to her feet and tied the hideous bonnet to her head. A strong gust of wind blew the brim back, revealing every sweet freckle on her face. He took her hand and placed it on his arm.

They walked back in silence, the only sound a distant rumble of thunder and the whistling wind. Gray clouds scudded low across the sky, warring with the sun. Before they reached the outer wall, fat droplets of rain were coming down upon them.

“It's a good thing we're home,” Freddie said. “The rain may not last long, but the midges that come out after a storm would bite us without mercy.”

“How delightful,” Sebastian drawled. “There are no midges in London, you know.”

“I am not going to London or anywhere else with you! And a little lavender or lemon oil works quite well to repel them. I wish I could find some oil to repel
you
.”

“Tut-tut. Even if you are a bit of a white witch, there is nothing in your jars and bottles which would have the power to turn me away from you, Freddie. We made a deal.” That was all it was, a bargain on paper for a castle he didn't want with a woman he didn't trust.

A crack of lightning rent the sky, the accompanying clap of thunder drowning out Freddie's undoubtedly disparaging retort. Feeling a sudden burst of energy, Sebastian picked her up and dashed into the courtyard with her as the rain pounded down and turned the world gray-green. As if he'd been waiting for them all afternoon, Warren opened the massive iron-banded front door.

“Cutting it awfully close, Miss Frederica. I told you it would storm this afternoon.”

“So you did, Warren. Sebastian, do set me down.” Once her feet were on the flagstones, Freddie took her soggy hat off and studied it with dismay. Good. It was now beyond the pale. Sebastian decided he would buy a new hat for her at the earliest opportunity, perhaps even two or three, expense be damned. There must be some milliner in York who would extend credit to the Duke of Roxbury. A day's drive to the city would be just the thing to enliven his stay, get her out of this gloomy place. They could put up in some historic inn and he could treat her to the sights. He supposed York Minster would be on the tour, medieval monstrosity that it was.

“Warren, see that tea is served for Miss Frederica in the solar in an hour. I'll take a whiskey then if you have it. Push dinner back until nine.”

“Nine!” both Freddie and Warren exclaimed at once.

“I know you keep country hours here, but if I'm to have a sandwich in an hour, I won't do Mrs. Holloway's cooking justice. Freddie, I want you to go to your room and rest. Our walk was most invigorating and you must be exhausted. See you in a little while.”

She looked as if she wanted to snap something back at him, but she mounted the stairs, her back straight. Sebastian admired the sway of her bottom until Warren cleared his throat.

“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said impatiently. “You want to lecture me. This is becoming a daily occurrence. Well, I don't want to listen. Let me guess. It was untoward of me to cart Miss Frederica around in my arms.”

The butler was stiff as his starched shirt points. Sebastian wondered if it was Freddie who ironed them. “It's not my place to lecture you, Your Grace. I should hope at my age I know what is proper.”

The implication being that Sebastian did not. “Damn propriety, Warren. It and I do not see eye to eye.”

“Miss Frederica has always been all that is proper. Except when she was fencing with gentlemen. That, I could not approve of.”

“You needn't worry for her safety. She's very accomplished. Had me disarmed before I knew what hit me. But I don't plan on fencing with her again, so rest easy.”

“She'll ask you anyway. We can't keep up with her. She tried to teach young Kenny, but the boy was hopeless.”

“What's wrong with him, anyway?”

“Your father inherited him when he purchased the castle, the last of the Earl of Archibald's retainers to remain. I suppose he had nowhere else to go. Young Kenny was never ‘all there,' as one might say, but several years ago he took a bad fall. He's been worse since, although we do keep hoping. Miss Frederica nursed him herself. He's very devoted to her.”

Freddie was a bloody paragon—scholar, housekeeper, nurse. And now a sexual temptress to boot. He clapped a hand on Warren's shoulder.

“I know you're concerned about your mistress. You have nothing to fear.”

“I'll not stand idly by and watch her get hurt.”

“Good Lord, man! You've made your point. But you know, we all get hurt. There's nothing you or anyone can do to stop the vicissitudes of life.”

Warren looked dissatisfied, but nodded. “Very well. But it's becoming impossible for me to stop the tittle-tattle. You were watched on your picnic in the lady's garden. If you are to do this—this
courting
of Miss Frederica, you'll have to do it away from prying eyes.”

Sebastian was truly exasperated now. He summoned the most ducal voice he could muster. “This
is
my home, Warren, and I should be able to do as I please without censure from the servants. I am not
courting
Miss Frederica; we are
copulating
. At her insistence and invitation, I might add.”

Warren blanched. “Of course, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect. I only worry for Miss Frederica.”

“Well, stop. That's an order. And tell everyone else to mind their own business. There's too much for them to do here as it is without concerning themselves over Miss Frederica's virtue.” And far too late.

“Very good, sir.”

Warren shuffled off. Damn it. This daily castigation was worse than the usual dressing-down at school from the headmaster. Sebastian had stood unrepentant through many of those, but Warren seemed to have a surprising influence on him. To Sebastian's mind, the one positive thing at present was that there were so few servants to alarm. How the castle was even managed as poorly as it was, was a minor miracle.

To a man who'd always had some concern for his comfort, his life was topsy-turvy. He'd had to let a great many people go at Roxbury Park, people his father should have released from service long ago, as he was an absent master. Even so, there were still far too many folks dependent upon the Duchy of Roxbury. The house was not in such dire straits as Goddard Castle, but it needed more than a lick of paint. Sebastian dragged his hand through his hair, silently cursing his father one more time.

But it didn't pay to curse or complain. What was done was done. It was up to Sebastian to turn the situation to his advantage, justice that he would be doing it with Freddie's money. He could keep the wolves at the door without inviting them in to dine upon him.

Speaking of food. He'd have to get out of his damp and dirty clothes for tea with Freddie. He could do with a catnap himself. There were a proscribed number of hours left to his day, and he needed the energy to make the very best use of them.

As he mounted the stairs, he gave some thought to what he wanted to introduce Freddie to next. She'd been an amazingly willing pupil so far, considering she seemed to hold him in aversion. But her body appeared disconnected from her brain when she was with him, and that was just how it should be. Sebastian may have lost his fortune, but he hadn't lost his touch with the fairer sex, thank God. There had been a time when he had worried. At some point he would have to consider holy matrimony. Not that holiness had a thing to do with the God of Sin.

S
leep eluded her. Unless she was ill, she was incapable of napping during the daylight hours, when there was so much to be done. Not that there was a ray of sunshine to be seen right now. The rain lashed against the windows with considerable fury, suiting her melancholy mood perfectly.

This affair with Sebastian had gotten completely out of hand. Apart from that first wicked night, he had not withdrawn as his crisis came to him. Frederica was not entirely stupid—a man's seed caused babies. Mrs. Holloway had given her quite the lecture when she was eighteen, when Frederica had gone to her in a fit of conscience after that horrible night with Sebastian. Even then she had known not to ask Mrs. Carroll anything. Her canny companion would have somehow detected what she had done in the tower, and with whom. The one positive aspect of Frederica's life was that she was now free of Mrs. Carroll, although the lack of chaperone made it so very convenient for Sebastian to corrupt her.