Love Me True (2 page)

Lucy awaited him already. She must have shirked more of her duties tonight to share his bed at this hour. If it wasn’t his bed she’d been gracing on occasion since his twentieth year, she’d probably have been dismissed for her outright laziness.

Justin kicked off his remaining clothes and crawled under the covers.

Lucy cuddled into him and sought his lips in an ardent closed-mouthed kiss. Her attempt to appear virginal tonight amused him, but the press of her hardened nipples spoke loudly of her desires. He liked her games. He liked the pretense that she hadn’t spread her legs for anyone but him. But as her wine-scented breath puffed over his lips, he scowled. She’d obviously helped herself to the refreshments laid out for the guests tonight and, by the scent tickling his nose, she had also sampled a guest’s perfume, too.

He’d censure her about it in the morning, but for now she seemed altogether too delicious to ignore. He set his lips to her neck to lightly nip at her skin. Lucy shuddered and moaned with almost believable surprise, building the fiction that she’d never lain in a man’s arms. She’d missed her true calling in life, it seemed. She could have performed on the stage.

Justin pulled Lucy atop him. She stiffened and squirmed, rubbing her breasts against his chest awkwardly as if unused to the position. When he hastened to kiss her into compliance, she wriggled around until she was comfortably draped over his body, putting his stiff prick against her thigh. Justin tugged a little more until he lay primed and ready to slide into place. His delicious bundle whimpered.

“Shh, love. You know your safe with me.” He pushed her long, heavy hair back from her face and cupped her cheek. He couldn’t see her face clearly and he brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’ll give you everything you need. I promise.”

Lucy twisted suddenly and planted her lips tightly against his. Surprised by the sudden move, Justin kissed her back, pressing his tongue into the seam of her lips until they parted. The taste of her was heaven. Blind desire washed over him, leaving him breathless. He wrapped his arms around her and plundered her mouth, desperate to join with her in every way possible. He slid his palm down her back, over the firm round swell of her bottom and grasped one thigh. He inched her legs apart until she opened to him.

Justin flexed his hips, aligning himself to thrust inside. With Lucy’s hands threaded through his hair, her mouth open over his, he pushed in gently—as if they’d never done this before. As if she was in truth virginal—not wanton and hungry for pleasure. Lucy tensed, clamping her lower muscles tightly around him. Another thrust seated him inside her and his world shrank to just the pair of them.

God she was a good actress. Her initial whimper had sounded authentic. The tight control she used on her sex to simulate a novice in the bedchamber could almost fool a man, but as he slid in and out her rough pant gave her away.

This was no virginal, scared miss. This was a woman swept away by desire. Justin rolled them until he hovered above. He braced himself on his elbows, holding his weight suspended and gave himself over to the delicious illusion they’d woven.

CHAPTER TWO

The bed rocked enough to make Clarry sick. She clutched the sheet tightly against her face and tried to block out the insistent voice nagging her to get up.

“Come on, luv. Mrs. Gillard will have your head if she catches you sleeping the day away,” the deep male voice insisted beside her ear.

Clarry’s head exploded with a pain so great she moaned aloud. A hard smack landed on her bottom—her very bare bottom.

“On your feet sleepy.”

Clarry opened one eye and lowered the sheet a fraction. The unfamiliar room about her brought a gasp from her lips. She wasn’t at home or anywhere she recognized. The bed dipped behind her and then she heard movement, a man’s cough and the sound of pouring water. What was he doing? And what was she doing here?

She rubbed her temple as her memory of last night returned. She’d wanted to speak with Lord Ramsbury before it was too late. Obviously she’d found him but that didn’t explain why she was in his bed. Why was Lord Ramsbury going about his day as if having her in his bed was an ordinary event?

She shut her eyes and ran her hand over her skin beneath the sheet. Her bare skin. She glanced down at herself. Naked. As in the day she was born, naked. Clarry wriggled until she was cocooned in the crisp white sheets, feeling colder than she had her entire life. What had she done? And what had she had done to her?

A touch skimmed up her leg—warm, hard, and somehow comforting. “Time to rise.” The covers were wrenched from her grip. “Sleeping beau . . .”

Clarry squeaked and snapped her eyes closed, but not before she glimpsed a broad and shockingly bare male chest. So, she’d done it. She’d captured Lord Ramsbury’s attention on his wedding night. She should be pleased to have stolen the groom from his new bride on such an important night. But her victory rang flat. To put it quite plainly—she couldn’t remember even speaking to the viscount, let alone climbing into his bed.

“Sweet Jesus.” The sheet caressed her as her companion inched it down her body, revealing more of her to the light than she imagined necessary. She reached for it and grappled with two strong hands, winning but only after pinching his skin.

“Well, this is an astonishing surprise. Good morning, Clarry.”

Clarry risked opening one eye again and spied Lord Justin leaning over her, a foolish grin spread across his face. She scrambled away, dragging the sheet with her for protection. “Get away from me.”

His brilliant smile dimmed. “What game are you playing?”

“What game are you? What gives you the right to be here?”

The smile disappeared altogether. “Every right. This is my bedchamber. And that is my bed you’re hiding in.”

“You don’t belong here. Your chamber is on the other side of the house.” Clarry glanced around nervously. “Isn’t it?”

“I moved.” The clipped words came out from between his clenched teeth and Clarry hugged herself tighter. She glanced around frantically and spied her clothes from last night laid across the far chair. But to reach them, she had to pass Lord Justin—the naked rake that appeared to have taken her virtue in his brother’s place.

Clarry pressed her hands to her face to hide her distress. Good grief, she had thrown herself at the wrong man. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips, listening to Lord Justin move away. Why couldn’t she remember Lord Justin’s seduction? Usually she had an excellent memory. She had never, ever, encouraged
that
man to call on her. Or smiled or laughed at his many jokes. Really, had last nights revelry clouded her mind that badly?

Or perhaps her disguised state had turned off her sense of self-preservation. A rake like Lord Justin would certainly take what was offered and more without regard to her inebriated state. Well, she was done for now—a fallen woman with no hope for the brilliant future of which she’d dreamed. Even as deeply inebriated as she must have been, how could she not have recognized and refused Lord Justin’s advances last night? He was nowhere near as charming as his brother—the man she loved. The one she’d risked scandal for to prove they were meant to be together.

Lord Justin returned and pressed a wet something to the back of her fingers. “This will help settle your head.”

Clarry took the cloth and the cool moisture did seem to help. When it was too warm to be useful she let her hand fall. She was doomed. Lord Justin took it away and, when he’d moved further across the room, Clarry risked a second peek. His broad, smooth back, more muscular than she’d imagined, gave way to a sleek pair of buttocks and long limbs. Clarry closed her mouth as Lord Justin turned and she couldn’t stop a squeak from escaping her lips again. He wasn’t wearing anything at all. Yet he walked toward her without any sign of discomfort.

He held out the cloth and Clarry quickly snatched it from his hand to press the blessed coolness against her heated skin.

The mattress dipped as he sat close beside her. “I take it from your reaction that you were not expecting to have shared last night with me. You thought that this was to be my brother’s room last night, didn’t you?”

Clarry nodded swiftly and instantly regretted that decision. Her skull would explode at any moment. She licked her lips nervously. Could a mistake of this magnitude be hushed up with no consequences? She sincerely hoped so.

Lord Justin didn’t move and he didn’t speak for a long time. When Clarry lifted her gaze, she found him slumped. One glance at his face, however, closed her eyes. She’d never witnessed a bleaker expression on a man. He looked as if someone had stolen his inheritance.

“There is nothing else for it now.” He stood and then bent to lift his shirt from the floor, exposing his bare bottom to her shocked eyes. “Get dressed as best you can. I will finish lacing you up. After I’ve made arrangements, I will take you home.”

The emotionless tone of Lord Justin’s voice sent her from his bed and she hastily dropped the sheet to pull on her clothes. Although her skull pounded, she managed to drag her chemise over her head, and then wobbled on shaky legs as she picked up her corset. How she had loosened the tight strings without aid escaped her. Could she even get back into it without the help of a maid? She managed to fit the stiff garment around her and then reached for the laces at her back. Lord Justin stepped close behind and took them from her grip. In next to no time, her breasts were bound tightly again.

Of course he would know his way about a corset.
The thought irritated her more than it should. Lord Justin was a rake, and was rumored to bed any woman who smiled his way. A very good reason to have steered clear of him in the past. A shame she hadn’t remembered to do so last night.

“All done.”

Clarry took a breath and then another. At least he hadn’t tightened the laces too far so as to strangle her as her companion frequently did. The thought of Bethany Gainsford’s scowl chilled her. Her companion would ring a peal over her head for this lapse of judgment and regale her with yet another tale of some nameless woman’s mistake in tempting a terrible man. Now, of course, Bethany could use Clarry as her example.

Her gown fluttered over her head, and Lord Justin settled the material in place without a word. As he did up the tiny pearl buttons with agonizing slowness, his breath washed over her bare shoulder and she hastened to tug the material higher. “I can’t see my stockings.”

“Leave them.” Lord Justin’s voice dipped deep, and she turned around. His staff peeked out from under his fine linen shirt in a most disconcerting way. At this proximity, she had time to notice a thousand intimate details about Lord Justin. Despite the situation, his thick member, veins standing out in stark relief, intrigued her. She didn’t know the correct term but she couldn’t drag her gaze away.

Lord Justin turned abruptly. He threw off the shirt he was wearing, leaving his bare back facing her and pulled on smalls, a new shirt and trousers, affording Clarry a completely unfamiliar glimpse into a gentleman’s life. Lord Justin was quite particularly attentive in his dressing habits, as if he was nervous, fussing with three cravats until they were perfectly tied. His gaze met hers in the tall oval mirror as he secured his cravat with a jade pin. Her chest tightened.

Despite her earlier opinion and desire to avoid him in the past, he was a handsome man. But she disliked him for his rakish ways, favoring his brother’s steady character instead. Lord Ramsbury’s smile set Clarry’s heart to wing whereas Lord Justin’s planted her feet on disturbingly unsteady ground.

Clarry looked away first. She felt embarrassed for having shared a bed with a man she cared nothing for, or he for her when she thought about it. Yet he was being so kind about her blunder that she wondered what he was thinking and whether he’d tell his friends of his successful seduction. As he settled a waistcoat in place and started doing up the buttons, she took a step toward him.

He scowled. “You cannot face the duchess like that.”

“Face the duchess?” Foolishly, Clarry shook her head and winced again. “I thought you were going to help me return home?”

“I am. But not until I can speak to my parents about our marriage. I want to ensure that they will support the match.”

“Marriage?” Clarry parroted, sagging into the nearest chair as her legs gave way. She couldn’t bear to marry a man she didn’t love. And she did
not
love Lord Justin. She loved his brother with her whole heart. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly marry
you,
” she protested.

Lord Justin stalked across the room and dragged her to her feet. “Well, how did you think this would end? Did you think I would bed an innocent and then discard her as if she were no better than a common whore?”

When Clarry didn’t answer, Justin gave her a little shake. She cleared her throat. “Of course, I did. We hardly know each other, but I’ve heard enough gossip about you. I know how you live your life. Debauchery and vice at every turn. I won’t live like that.”

Couldn’t he see how miserable she’d be as his wife?

Justin’s fingers tightened on her arm. “You don’t understand the first thing about me, Miss Wheaton. It appears as if you are in for something of a shock.”

Clarry glanced about the room, looking for a door to escape through. That didn’t sound pleasant or painless.

Lord Justin set his hands to her shoulders and forcibly turned her in the chair. “Sit.”