Pride and Fire (16 page)

Michelle spun around to face him. He closed the door and slowly ran his gaze over her, noting the way the chemise and petticoat clung to her curves. She bristled under such close scrutiny.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“This is my room,” he said simply, unbuttoning his jacket.

She watched him warily as he removed his waistcoat and shirt. He sat down in the chair to remove his boots. She attempted to skirt past him but he captured her easily, pulling her down on his lap.

“Let me go.” She struggled to stand, her eyes wide. “Please.”

He saw the fear in her eyes and released his hold on her. She stood and hurried toward the door.

“I would never force myself on you,” he said softly.

His words stopped her and she looked down at the floor. “I know that.” When he said nothing more, she turned back to him. “Paul, I—”

“Come here, love,” he gently commanded.

She came to stand in front of him. “Yes?”

“You do belong to me,” he said, taking her hands in his. She stiffened at his words. “You belong to me because you love me, not because I didn’t take your dowry.”

“But if you would just listen—”

“Shh,” he cut in. “Do I belong to you?”

She studied him for a long moment as his heart seemed to stop. “Yes,” she said. “You’re mine because you love me.”

He nodded as relief flooded him. He pulled her down on his lap once more. “We won’t speak of the dowry again.”

She pulled away from him. “Paul, this isn’t resolved.”

He reached out to stroke her cheek. “There’s no place for anger in this room, love.”

She nodded and rested her cheek against his chest. He rubbed her back in little circles and let out a breath. She lifted her head to gaze into his eyes.

“Paul,” she began, trailing her fingers over his chest. “Do you truly belong to me?”

He smiled crookedly at her. “Yes.”

That one word seemed to free her. She kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose. Her lips lingered over his, rubbing lightly. The fleeting kiss wasn’t enough for him. Paul kissed her deeply, taking her breath away. He stood with her in his arms and carried her over to the bed. He sat down and placed her on her feet, his hands coming up to untie her chemise. Her hands stilled his. He looked at her in question. She favored him with a small smile and pushed him down onto the bed. He turned and settled back, placing his hands behind his head as he watched her, eager to see what she was about.

Michelle slowly untied her chemise, letting the garment fall off of her shoulders. She pushed her petticoat over her hips and stepped out of the frothy white skirt. Paul’s pulse pounded as he watched her, the lust holding a tenderness absent that afternoon in his study. She stretched out beside him on the bed. He reached for her but she stopped him, pressing his shoulders back against the pillows.

“Michelle, what—?”

“Shh,” she instructed, placing her fingers on his lips.

She placed little kisses along the column of his throat, across his chest. She ran her hands over his skin and his muscles bunched beneath her touch.

“You’re magnificent, Paul,” she breathed. “And you’re mine.”

Her fingers trailed over his stomach to caress him through his breeches. She worked the buttons free and reached inside. Her delicate fingers brushed the head of his cock.

“Ah, Michelle,” he moaned, closing his eyes.

She leaned her head down and kissed the head and he nearly came up off the bed.

“My God…!” he cried, his words trailing off to a low groan of pleasure as she continued.

She caressed him with her lips, her tongue. When she took him completely into her mouth he nearly came apart. With a low growl, he pulled her up against him, kissing her with all the passion she’d aroused. He reached down between their bodies and stroked her. She gasped as his fingers found her, her body arching in pleasure as he felt her wetness. He braced her legs apart to straddle him.

She looked at him, confused. “Paul, I don’t—”

“Lean back,” he instructed.

He lowered her onto himself. Michelle gasped as he entered her fully. He held her hips as he thrust up into her, again and again. She threw her head back, crying out as she found her release. With one final thrust, he climaxed, shouting her name.

She collapsed against him, her breath coming in little puffs.

“There are so many ways for a man and woman to come together, wife,” he said, his voice rough.

She said nothing as she tried to catch her breath, merely nodding.

“And I promise you’ll love each and every one,” he said.

“Mmm,” she murmured against his chest. She shifted a bit and curled up against him. “Good night, husband.”

He breathed out a deep sigh of satisfaction and hugged her to him. He only hoped she wouldn’t broach the subject again tomorrow.

* * * *

When Michelle woke the next morning, the matter of her dowry was foremost in her mind. While she’d agreed to put the matter aside last night, it wasn’t resolved to her satisfaction. Her body tingled as she recalled what they’d shared. Well, not to her
mental
satisfaction.

Paul opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Good morning, wife. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.”

“I did.” He stretched and let out a loud groan. “Love, when you put your mouth—”

Michelle gasped. Thankfully he didn’t say more. She thought to broach the subject of her dowry, but changed her mind as she looked at him. His eyes sparkled, his hair was tousled. A smile teased the corner of his mouth. She sighed and kissed him instead. They rose to ready for the day.

As she sat at the vanity brushing the tangles out of her hair, Paul came out of the dressing room.

“I need to speak with my father’s solicitor this morning, love,” he said.

“Is anything wrong?”

“Um, no,” he said. “My father has no talent for business, I’m afraid.”

Michelle nodded, her dowry again on her mind. She couldn’t understand Paul’s refusal. He was a smart man. Taking her money made perfect sense.

“Paul—”

He kissed her open mouth. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he said. “You take the longest time to get ready.”

She frowned at him as she once more struggled with the brush. She called to Betsy and, as usual, the maid deftly worked out the tangles. Michelle studied her reflection.

“Bring the scissors, Betsy,” she said. “I want you to cut my hair.”

“No, My Lady!” Betsy gasped.

“It’s heavy. It tangles too easily.” Michelle smiled at the maid. “Please cut it.”

Betsy took up the scissors and soon the curls fell to just below Michelle’s shoulders.

“Betsy, I love it!” she exclaimed with a wide smile.

“‘Tis quite fetching, I admit,” Betsy said. “And even curlier.”

Michelle nodded and turned her head this way and that. “My head feels a full stone lighter!”

Betsy nodded and assisted her mistress with the rest of her dress.

* * * *

Paul waited in the breakfast room, his thoughts dark and brooding. He recalled their argument of the previous afternoon. Michelle’s anger had surprised him, but it was nothing compared to his reaction. He’d come very close to taking her in anger. He was glad they’d resolved their differences before going to bed. Her boldness in their bed proved she was passionate in all things. He prayed she wouldn’t approach the subject of her dowry with such tenacity.

Michelle breezed into the breakfast room. “Good morning, husband.”

She wore a dress of pale blue. Tight curls framed her face and a smile curved her lips.

He stood and crossed to her, kissing her lightly. “Good morning, wife.”

He sat and poured her a cup of tea as she served herself from the sideboard. She sat at the table and he looked at her again. Something was different.

“Michelle,” he began, “what did you—?”

“The Earl of Chester for you, My Lord,” Starks announced from the doorway.

Paul glanced at Starks. “Show him in.”

He read the curiosity on Michelle’s face and schooled his own expression.

“Did you know he was coming this morning?” Michelle asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I need his assistance.”

Chester soon joined them. “Good morning,” he said with a smile. He bowed low to Michelle. “May I say you look exceptionally lovely this morning, Lady Leed.”

Michelle blushed lightly at the compliment and waved her hand toward the sideboard. “Please help yourself, Lord Chester.”

He grinned and did as she asked, then joined the couple at the table.

“What are you gentlemen about this day?” Michelle asked, bringing her tea cup to her lips.

“We’re going to—” Chester began.

Paul’s quick shake of his head stilled him. “It’s nothing significant, love.”

Michelle shrugged and finished her tea. “I’ll leave you to our guest, then.”

She pushed her chair away from the table and the gentlemen rose as she did. She walked over to Paul and reached up to place a kiss on his cheek. “When do you expect to return?”

“Will you miss me, wife?” he whispered in her ear.

“Not in the least,” she responded with a cheeky smile. She turned as she reached the doorway. “Enjoy your insignificant errand, gentlemen,” she said, taking her leave.

Chester couldn’t hide his smile. “I wouldn’t try to put anything past her, Leed.”

Paul returned his friend’s smile despite his unease. She was too clever by half.

“Well, she’ll never know what we’re about this day, Chester. Not on my life.”

Chapter 16

Now that the wedding was behind him, Paul could turn his attention to the matter of his father’s finances. He and Chester planned to pay a call on the Earl of Talbot’s solicitor. Surely the man could tell Paul what was going on.

“Thank you for accompanying me today, Chester.”

“Not at all, Leed.”

“I admit I don’t trust myself to be objective.” Paul laid his napkin aside. “I had thought Roberts would be with you.”

“I stopped by to see him this morning, poor fellow,” Chester said with a glint in his eye.

Paul crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Pray, elaborate.”

“We hit the pubs last evening. Roberts… overindulged.”

Paul gave a slow nod. He’d often gone to the pubs with his friends before his marriage, and often woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a sated body. Generous serving wenches.

“Poor fellow, indeed,” Paul said. “We’ll pick him up on our way, then.”

They stopped to pick up Lord Roberts at his townhouse and went on toward the solicitors’ offices. Roberts settled on the seat across from Paul, letting out a groan.

“Had a bit of ale last evening, Roberts?” Paul asked.

“Ah, Leed.” Roberts looked up and managed a small smile. “It wasn’t the ale that did me in.”

“It seems fair Lizzie took a shine to him,” Chester said, referring to one of the serving girls they all knew well.

Paul winked. “It’s a wonder you can walk this morning, friend.”

Roberts flushed, grinning.

Talk turned to the business at hand as the carriage rocked to a stop in front of the offices.

“How do you wish to proceed?” Chester asked.

“I’ll dictate the course of the meeting, gentlemen,” Paul said. “I trust you and Roberts to gauge his responses afterwards?”

Chester nodded. “I daresay with that look of determination I see on your face, the man will be hard-pressed to deny you your answers.”

The gentlemen alighted, Paul in the lead. They were shown directly into the rear office. The man in charge of the Earl of Talbot’s estate, as well as Paul’s, stood as they entered.

“Good morning, Leed,” the man, a Mr. Graves, greeted him. “Gentlemen,” he added.

Paul and the others nodded. They exchanged handshakes and took their seats. Graves settled himself behind his desk, interest stamped on his face.

“When I received your note yesterday, my curiosity was piqued,” Graves said to Paul. “What can I do for you?”

“I need to know about my father’s holdings,” Paul said.

The solicitor shifted in his chair. “I… Um, the earl usually handles all—”

“Frankly, Graves,” Paul cut in, “my father has been distracted lately.”

Graves nodded solemnly. He looked from Paul to his friends, then motioned for Roberts to close the door.

Roberts obliged, and Graves let out a sigh. “What do you want to know?”

“What’s the status of his holdings?” Paul asked.

Graves laughed without humor. “You don’t dance around a subject, do you? Well, his holdings have changed dramatically over the last few months.”

“How so?” Paul asked.

“He’s lost nearly all his leased properties.”

“Damn,” Paul said, clenching one fist. “I’d hoped he was wrong about that.”

Graves went on. “Since your mother passed away, the earl’s finances have been dwindling.”

“But she died nearly five years ago,” Chester said.

“Yes,” Graves said. “It was a slow decrease, up until six months ago.”

“What happened six months ago?” Paul asked.

“I’m not certain,” came the man’s answer. “He instructed me to sell off the property in Hull, near the inlet, last year and I’ve been releasing it parcel by parcel since then.”

Paul’s mind worked. Hull lay in Yorkshire, as did Talbot Hall. “The land near the inlet isn’t suitable for much, except perhaps hunting. What of the holdings attached to Talbot Hall?”

“They’re still intact,” Graves said. “However, I must tell you he’s instructed me to have those properties appraised.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Paul said. “That land is part of my legacy, my children’s future.”

“I agree, Leed,” Graves answered. “I’m glad now you’re aware of his difficulties.”

“What difficulties?” Chester asked.

Paul echoed Chester’s question with a nod of his dark head, urging Graves to elaborate.

“He’s amassed some debts,” Graves said. “I’m afraid the upkeep of Talbot Hall has been affected.”

“Wonderful,” Paul grumbled. “What of the property in Leeds, my own holdings in Yorkshire?”

“They’re intact,” Graves said. “They go with your title, and can’t be touched without your permission.”