Rogues and Ripped Bodices (28 page)

No Rest
for the Wicked

Lucian fought to keep his eyes open as Ellie skimmed her
fingers up and down his chest. He admired the sight of creamy skin that he had
buffed dry with a towel after bathing and a minor delay. The tub had not been
big enough to make love in but he had laid her out on the towel and paid
attention to every part of her, as promised. If he’d not been so exhausted, he
might have given into responding to the arousal burning through his veins.

Truth be told, he didn’t wish
to fall asleep. He wanted to value every moment with her. It would come to an
end soon enough. She would have her fill of him or see him for what he really
was. She would realise he was not good enough for her. How could he compete
with the sights of the world and her vast wealth? He might have a title but it
was hardly backed by money anymore and a mere viscount could not compete with
any titles of her own ilk or higher.

He suspected he had been lucky
enough to get in there before any other man had, but soon the masses of
eligible bachelors would sweep her up. The ball had proved exactly how popular
she was with gentlemen.

Jealousy tightened his gut but
her hand trailing over his stomach in an exploratory manner and the brush of
her hair against his cheek made him forget it. Whatever happened in the future,
what mattered was here, now. For the time being, he had this undiscovered gem
lying next to him, naked and willing. Damnation, if only he was not so tired. He
fought to mask a yawn.

“Poor Lucian, have I worn you
out?”

He scowled. “Do not talk to me
as though I am an old man.”

“But you are. You are no young,
suave rake anymore. You are a grumpy and grizzled old man.”

He lifted a brow and peered at
her face as she tilted her head towards him. A teasing smile sat on her lips
and he shook his head. “Alas, you have the measure of me. I am old before my
time. But you will forgive my tiredness. I didn’t sleep well last night. A
certain little minx kept me awake all night.”

“Oh indeed.” She barely
smothered a gasp as he plucked at her nipple, enjoying the way the rosy bud
tightened. “And who is the lady who can keep a rake so entertained?”

“She is a countess. A fine lady.
Too good for me. But beneath her elegant exterior, she is nought but a wicked,
naughty lady.”

“She sounds interesting.”

“She is indeed.” He yawned.

“But not interesting enough to
keep you awake, it seems.”

Lucian chuckled. “Forgive me,
my love. It was a busy day at the mill. I didn’t see my bed at all last night.”

“You work so hard, Lucian. I
worry for you. You shall age even quicker than you already have if you’re not
careful.”

The desire to tell her
everything that had occurred burnt in his chest. To unburden himself on Ellie
seemed so natural, as if she pulled all the truths from his tongue and bore
them all on those slender shoulders of hers.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Bloody hell, how do you do
that?”

“What?”

“You...read my mind or some
such witchcraft. It is disconcerting.”

“So there is something wrong?”

She pressed her breasts into
his side and he knew he had no choice. He would crawl over hot coals for this
woman and he would certainly tell her every secret of his if she so asked.

He blew out a breath and stared
at her shoulder as he smoothed his fingers across her skin. “There was a fire
this morning.”

“A fire? My goodness, thank the
Lord you were not hurt.”

“It wasn’t big though it could
have grown had I not caught it in time. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch the
person setting the fire.”

“It was deliberate?”

“Yes. As were the other accidents.
As was the belt snapping and striking you. Good Lord, it could have killed
you.”

“But it did not,” she reminded
him gently and he relaxed his grip on her shoulders. Odd how the thought of her
coming to any harm created a very real ache in his chest. “So someone is trying
to burn down the mill?”

“I think not. A fire would be
the person’s first choice, surely? The fire was never intended to reach huge
proportions. Likely it would have burned out but created enough damage to force
me to close the mill for a long time.”

“They hope to close the mill?”

“
They
hope to put me out
of business.”

“Things are that bad then?”

He nodded. “Yes, you were right
as usual, Ellie. The cost of cotton and the other mill fire has put a very real
strain on the business.”

“You do not think the other
fire was deliberate, do you?” She propped herself up on one elbow and drew up
the sheet but he tugged it away, eliciting a squeak.

“Do not cover yourself for my
sake.”

“It was more for mine. It does
not seem very sensible to be discussing such matters while my...” He saw colour
enter her cheeks.

“Your breasts?”

“Yes.” Ellie dropped her gaze.
“My breasts are on display.”

“I’ve never been accused of
being a sensible man.”

“I think you have your moments,
my lord. But what of this fire? What shall you do? You will not let them
succeed, will you?”

“No. Whoever this person is, I
will not. Perhaps it is just mischief making but I think not. Too many
livelihoods depend on that mill and my father worked hard to make it a success.
I will not let his legacy be whittled away to nothing.”

“I’m sure your father would be
proud of you, no matter what you did. You are a good man.”

“Am I? You did not think so not
long ago. I am a rake. Or at least I was. With not an ounce of honour in me.”

“You are still dishonourable, I
will agree with that.” She pushed up to kiss the tip of his nose. It was a
movement that he likened to that of a mother to a child and not suited to a
grown man at all, yet his heart stretched. “But you are a good man and you
shall save this mill.”

“I’m not sure I know how.”

“First, sleep. Then let me see
this month’s records tomorrow. There is something I should like to look at.”

“You are being mysterious.”

“I don’t know if I am seeing
things that are not, but there are some discrepancies.”

“There often are, you know?”

“But, Lucian, you know someone
wishes the mill closed. Why should they wish such a thing?”

“A disgruntled employee perhaps
or one of my competition.”

“They are not all the most
honourable men, but surely that is below them?”

He thought of Abberley and
conceded she was right. He did not like the man, but he had sound business
sense and wouldn’t do something so foolish, surely? But who else could it be?
Who would benefit from the closing of the mill?

“Get some rest, Lucian, and let
me look at the books tomorrow. Perhaps I shall have some answers for you.”

He didn’t argue. How could he
when she coaxed his weary body down and repositioned the pillow under his head?
When she drew up the blankets and pushed her lithe body against his? Or when
she ran soothing fingers through his hair?

Lucian did not wish to fall
asleep. He longed to stay awake and enjoy every moment of her attentions. When
had anyone treated him in such a way since his mother? And she had long since
given up trying to take care of him.

So sleep claimed him and the
worries of the mill seemed to drift away with each touch of her fingers. He
felt a smile on his face as he drifted into the darkness and heard her sweet
voice.

“Rest well, my love.”

Never
Keep a Rake Waiting

The words and numbers had all begun to blur together by
midday. Eleanor rested her elbows on Lucian’s desk and rubbed her eyes. She
pressed fingers to her temples to release some of the pressure on her head. A
fine headache was coming on. She had lain awake for too long last night,
watching Lucian sleep, but watching him in repose, all relaxed and almost
childlike was too fascinating. It brought her great joy to see him so tranquil
and free from worry.

Not that it had lasted. He had
awoken early and left her, and she saw the tension back in his posture as he
slipped out of the door. Hopefully some more lovemaking now he had rested would
help him, but first they needed to find out who this unknown saboteur was.

She peered at the numbers and
wished she had brought the entire collection of records with her, though she
would have to have them sent over by carriage. When she saw Lucian, she would
have him send a message to his staff to have the books sent over.

There were discrepancies in the
costing of cotton she noticed, but that was not unusual, not with the rapid
changing nature of the industry, but it read as though they were being charged
more than the quoted cost. She did not know for sure but the records from the
previous years had shown no such discrepancies. Eleanor would have to ask if
there was a reason for the different numbers.

“Will you come and eat?”

Lifting her head, she could not
help but smile at the handsome sight he presented. He had discarded his jacket
and it hung from one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and not even the
scars on one arm could prevent her from admiring the way his muscles pulled as
he leant against the doorframe. His waistcoat was a simple, pure black one, and
the gold chain of his pocket watch stood out against it. She sighed. To think
he was her lover. It was so very wicked and so very exciting.

“Well?”

Eleanor nodded hastily and
stood. “Yes, I did not even realise I’m hungry.” She placed a hand to her stomach.
“But apparently I am.”

She put on her bonnet and
snatched her shawl. Lucian stepped forwards to help place it around her
shoulders. He grabbed both ends and used it to draw her to him. She peered
around his shoulder at the open door.

“Someone shall see,” she
hissed.

“And you think that bothers
me?”

“Considering you sneak out of
my room in the early hours, yes.”

“That is merely to cater to
your sensibilities, Ellie. My reputation cannot get any worse than it already
is.” He glanced over his shoulder, his hold still firm on the shawl and pushed
the door shut with his foot. “But I would not wish to shame you.”

Then he lowered his lips to
hers. Excitement darted through her, twisting into her stomach and making her
body tingle from head to toe. How, after sharing so much with him, a mere kiss
created such sensations, she did not know.

She savoured every second,
however. Feeling desired and wanted brought her more happiness than she thought
possible. Even notions of the future and them having to part did not bother her
when he kissed her.

He flicked his tongue over
hers, then drew back to brush his lips briefly across her mouth. Smiling with a
look of satisfaction, Lucian settled the shawl properly over her shoulders and
readjusted her bonnet.

“Perfect.”

Hardly, but she wouldn’t argue.

Lucian put on his jacket and
she slid her arm through his. The clank of the machines rang out from the
building in the most oddly soothing manner. The sounds of activity and industry
thrilled her almost more than the quiet peace that surrounded Broadstone Hall.

As they strode along the street
towards the busy town centre, Eleanor found herself not concentrating on
walking carefully or how she was carrying herself as usual, but instead on her
surroundings and most of all on the tall, handsome man at her side. Such a
sense of peace and satisfaction washed over her that she had to bite back a
contented sigh and force herself out of her dream world where happy endings
existed and devastatingly attractive rakes gave girls like her their hearts.

It will not last, Eleanor
, she
told herself.
Just remember that.

***

Lucian tapped his feet as he waited for Ellie to open the
hotel room. He’d spent far too long staring at this damned door already. What
in the devil was she doing? He had not seen her all day. Normally she could be
counted on to pull the door open so fast he feared it would fall from its
hinges, but she really was taking her time.

“Ellie?” he tapped again.

Was she annoyed at him for not
coming to see her again as she poured over the books? He had meant to but there
had been some trouble with one of the machines and then a meeting with his
banker had fairly drained him. He did, however, look forward to dinner with
her. It meant leaving her bed but Ellie deserved to be treated better. All he
had done since she had come to town was keep her in bed or in his office. And
what woman did not like dressing up and going out to dinner?

Blast, if she was angry with
him, he would rather know about it. He pressed his ear to the door and heard
low voices. She was in there with her maid. Was she concerned about her maid
seeing him? Ellie had already admitted the maid knew all and fully supported
her mistress enjoying some time with him. Perhaps the maid felt Edward had been
as stuffy and neglectful as Lucian thought him to be, and Ellie deserved some
fun for a while.

He snorted. Some fun he turned
out to be. He had her buried under books at the mill, hardly the sort of
treatment a countess expected. Still, tonight he would show her an enjoyable
evening and remind her exactly why she had decided to come to town. If she was
not screaming to the rafters by the end of the evening, he would consider the
night a failure.

Right, he wasn’t going to stand
here any longer. If anyone came along, he would appear a damn fool. He twisted
the doorknob and eased open the door to step inside.

Ellie squeaked his name and he
spotted her sitting in front of the dressing table, having her hair tweaked by
the maid.

Maggie, he recalled, dipped.
“My lord.”

“Lucian, could you not have
given me a couple of moments? As you can see I am not dressed.”

He peered over her shoulder and
saw she still sat in her corset and drawers. A grin split his face. “I can see
very well.”

“Well?”

He met her gaze in the mirror.
“Pardon?”

“Wait outside. I shall only be
a moment.”

“Not likely. What shall it look
like if I am found loitering around outside your room? I shall be lucky if the
hotel staff do not carry me away and I am certain any gossip about us will be
confirmed.”

“People are gossiping?”

“We have been careful, my love,
but there is always gossip.”

The maid flushed. “Your hair is
done, my lady. Shall I help you choose your gown or...” She indicated to the
door, clearly not wishing to be privy to their private conversations.

“Yes, leave us, Maggie. Thank
you. Lord Rushbourne can always help.”

“As you will, my lady. Will you
need me tonight?”

Ellie shook her head. “I think
not.”

Lucian waited until the maid
had left before sinking down onto the bed. “Come on, Ellie, it’s not like you to
be late. We shall miss our reservation.”

“I am trying to hurry,” she
said, her voice tinged with annoyance, “but it is not easy when you have...have
blasted straw for hair.” She motioned to her perfectly coiffed hairstyle.

“Looks fine to me.” He picked a
bit of lint off his sleeve.

She
humphed
and
proceeded to pat some cream or some such on her cheeks. He had never realised
ladies went to quite so much trouble. He eyed the clock and tried not to grind
his teeth in frustration. Viscount or not, a reservation at
Petit Paris
was not easy to come by.

Ellie stood and eyed the
several gowns laid out on the chaise. He tapped his feet and waited for the
final decision. It was a dress—how hard could the decision be?

“Ellie...”

“Yes, I know, Lucian, we are
late, but I cannot go out in just
anything
.” She lifted her hands in
annoyance.

He stood and strode over to the
gowns to pick one up and thrust it at her. “Wear this.”

She shook her head. “No, the
fit is not quite right and I shall look pale under the street lights.”

Lucian dropped the gown and
pressed his fingers to his temples before picking up the dark blue gown. “This
then. You look fine in blue.”

“Pale blue, but that is being
cleaned.”

“Ellie, devil take it, it is
just a gown. No one shall care.”

“I shall care. And everyone
will care. I am a countess, I have to look as well as I can. It’s all very well
for you. You do not even have to work at being handsome, but I—” Her voice
cracked and she turned away from him.

“Handsome? With my scarred
face? Hardly.”

Rounding on him, hands on her
hips, she narrowed her gaze at him. “A little scarring is nothing, Lucian.”

“It is not nothing to me.” His
skin prickled as heat flushed through him, driven by annoyance. What was wrong
with the woman? And did she really think being burned was nothing to him? Did
she know him so little that she had no idea of the pain and anguish it had
caused him?

“No, of course it isn’t,” she
said softly. “But you cannot understand what it is like to be forever ugly. To
have people look at you and consider how beastly you are.” Ellie spun away
again, her shoulders dropping. “Hardly worthy of being a countess.”

“Ugly? What nonsense is this?”
He strode over and grasped her shoulders. He tried to turn her gently but she
would not move. Those shoulders began to shake. “Is this because of my careless
words when we were younger?”

“No. Yes.” She sniffled. “But
you were only saying what others thought. I know that.”

“I was a blasted fool.” This
time he managed to coax her around and tilt her chin up to view her glossy
eyes. “You are beautiful.”

“I am not and you don’t need to
lie to me. Not even Edward thought me beautiful.”

“You are not like other women,
I shall give you that, but that is what I love about you.”

That word kept coming out
during their conversations, did she notice it? What did it mean? But it seemed
she was too upset to notice the slip.

“He could not even find me
attractive enough to bed me, you know? Oh, he liked me and was kind to me, but
he saw me as nothing more than an awkward girl whom he had to take care of.”

“Ellie, if he did not bed you,
then he was a damn fool.”

“Edward was an intelligent man
and never a fool. He did try...but he could not... could not...” She covered
her face with her hands.

“Could not bed you?”

“I’m too ugly you see?”

Realisation dawned at just how
she saw herself. He had seen hints of it, of course. Her embarrassment when he
had first taken her, her uncertainty as to how attractive he would find her
that night.

“Edward could not bed you, or
would not?”

“He could not get...hard.” She
whispered the last bit.

Lucian shook his head. Poor
Ellie. Not only had she suffered his awful treatment of her but she had been
lumbered with a husband who was too old to do anything with her. Poor Edward.
To have a wife like Ellie and be unable to do anything with her. He pitied them
both but he had to admit annoyance with her late husband.

“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.” He drew
her into his arms. “Edward was old. Many men struggle at his age, particularly
when they are so active in other parts of their lives. All that travelling likely
did the poor man in. It would not have been because he did not want you. Bloody
man should have explained as much to you.”

“I know I am not pretty. It’s
all fake, what you see. Make-up and corsets, and carefully cut gowns. It is not
me,” she muttered against his shoulder.

“You are not in one of your
gowns now and yet...”

He clasped a hand and pressed
it between them. He was not hard yet but it wouldn’t take much. All he had to
do was skim a hand down to cup her rear and breathe in her scent. The light
touch of her hand was enough.

“You are hard.”

“Yes. And I was when your hair
was wild and your make-up was gone. Ellie, you arouse me far too often for it
to be comfortable quite frankly. Believe me, there is not a thing wrong with
you.” Her throat worked and a flush crept up her face. It made him smile. “The
worst you can complain about is too much hair, Ellie. I would gladly swap
unruly hair for my scars.”

“Your scars?”

“They are ugly, are they not?
You see, I am far uglier than you.”