Rogue's Honor (34 page)

They reached Hardwyck Hall in moments. A few
early tradesmen were about, but none of the
ton
. Still, Luke
led her around to the mews before swinging down from his horse and
then helping her to dismount. "If we can somehow contrive to let
only Bellowsworth know of this, the rest of Society need not
discover it," he said.

"I told you I don't care," she reminded him,
and at this moment she meant it. All she cared about was being with
Luke again, sating her desire for him, a desire which threatened to
rage out of control at any moment.

He dropped a quick kiss on her nose. "I know
you did. But I care. I want to spare you any unpleasantness, if
possible."

"I'm not finding this unpleasant in the
least," she retorted, brazenly tilting her face up to him.

He lowered his lips to hers for a lingering
kiss. She had missed this. Yes, a mere moment of heaven with Luke
was worth any scandal. "Shall we go inside?" she asked breathlessly
when at last he released her lips.

Without a word, he tucked her arm into his
and led her to the back door. A single servant bustled about the
kitchens, but at a flick of Luke's head, he magically disappeared.
They encountered no one else on their way through the house. Up the
great staircase, past the public rooms, up again. Pearl scarcely
noticed her surroundings, however, anticipating what lay ahead.

Opening one of the many doors on the passage,
he drew her into a room and then closed the door behind them. She
had a hazy impression of a masculine bedchamber, a large
four-poster bed with a deep burgundy counterpane, but her focus was
on Luke alone. She reached up to pull his mouth down to hers for
another kiss, more passionate than the last. It was like slaking a
long thirst, while awakening an even deeper one.

Luke growled, deep in his throat, a sound of
animal desire that only inflamed her further. She slid her arms up
his back, threading her fingers through his hair, drawing him
closer.

"Wait," he murmured against her lips. His
arms were around her, and she felt him doing something behind her
back. Then he pulled her hands down, his own moving from her
shoulders down to her wrists —to strip off her gloves with his own
now-bare hands.

She murmured her approval, revelling in once
again feeling his skin against her own. Along with their gloves,
they seemed to have stripped off the last of their inhibitions, as
well. They fumbled with each other's clothing, clumsy in their
haste.

When Pearl would have torn the stubborn
fastenings from her habit, Luke stopped her, forcing her to wait
while he undid every hook rather than damage the gown. She
understood the necessity, but chafed at the delay. The moment the
last hook came free, she shrugged out of the dress, stepping over
the rich wine-colored fabric now pooled on the floor— the same
color as the bed.

The bed. Luke seated himself on its edge to
finish divesting himself of his boots and breeches. She slipped out
of her undergarments while he did so, ready and more than ready to
move to the next stage. Before he could rise, she was as naked as
he, and moved quickly to join him. He looked up at her
questioningly, and with a grin she pushed him back upon the
bed.

"So the lady is in an authoritative mood
today, is she?" he asked with an answering smile.

"She is." To demonstrate, she clambered atop
him, pinning him to the down mattress, her hands on his
shoulders.

His eyebrows arched with surprise, though
there was no dimming of the desire in his eyes. "I place my fate in
your hands, my lady."

"Mmm. And not only your fate." With all of
his masculine length before her, she set about exploring it in
detail. First the firm planes of his chest, the muscles well
defined under a sprinkling of dark, crisp curls. His sides, smooth
but hard, tapering down from the width of his shoulders to the
narrowness of his hips. His flat, firm belly. Lower . . .

He gasped as her fingers encircled his shaft,
still startling in its size. But now she felt no fear— only desire
to have him within her once again, fulfilling the need she felt for
him. She shifted above him until she straddled his hips with her
thighs, then leaned down to kiss him, the length of his shaft
trapped between them.

"You've become quite the seductress after
only one lesson," he commented when she raised her head again.

"Ah, but it was such an excellent lesson."
Still playful, she nuzzled his throat, then his chest, skimming her
palms across his flat, male nipples, hard with his arousal.

Without warning, he pulled her back down
against him. "Time for another lesson, then, in just how effective
your wiles are." Moving his hips slightly, he brought his shaft
into direct contact with her most sensitive spot, causing her to
gasp in her turn. Now he moved her slowly atop him, so that she
slid along its length, every inch a new ecstasy.

She continued the rhythm on her own, freeing
his hands for other pursuits. Reaching behind her, between her
spread legs, he found her cleft and explored it, first with one
finger, then two. She tightened convulsively around him, sensing
that she was nearing her peak.

He must have sensed it too, for he lifted her
again, to impale her with his maleness. No tentative gentleness
this time, but a thrust into her depths, joining them in a rhythm
as old as humanity itself.

Pearl felt herself disintegrating around him,
melting into fragments of pure sensation. Still he thrust, and
still she climbed, until she cried out in an incoherent expression
of ultimate pleasure. While she still throbbed about him, he thrust
again and again, until his moans mingled with hers as he reached
his own fulfillment.

Together they slowly descended from the
dizzying heights, nerves tingling with the aftermath of the climax
they had achieved. Pearl lifted her head to gaze on his face, not
caring what he might read in her eyes. With a slow smile, he drew
her mouth down for a kiss, long and languorous.

"You are the most amazing woman I have ever
known," he murmured at length. "I love you, Pearl."

The longed-for words reverberated through her
being, bringing a pleasure nearly as intense as the physical one
they had just shared. By way of reply, she kissed him again, trying
to communicate all she felt through her lips and her body, still
joined with his. To her surprise, she felt his shaft swell within
her in response.

"To hell with Bellowsworth and Society," Luke
growled when she lifted her head again to regard him questioningly.
"What would you say to an elopement? With a fast carriage and good
horses along the way, we could reach Scotland in three days'
time."

It was the first time he had mentioned
marriage directly, and she blinked in surprise. "Now? Today?" The
fog of euphoria cleared slightly, allowing traces of reason in.
"What if we were overtaken?"

"That doesn't sound like a refusal, at
least." His eyes twinkled warmly.

She smiled. "Not a refusal at all. But—"

"But we should plan, to maximize our chances
of success. You're right. And we will . . . in a few moments." As
he spoke, he began to move within her again, rolling her onto her
side.

Pearl would no more refuse him in this than
in an elopement. She kept rolling until he was atop her and let him
direct the renewal of their passion, even sweeter than before now
that she knew he wanted a lifetime with her.

* * *

"I must get back," Pearl said regretfully,
some time later, when they both lay sated again. "Everyone will be
awake and about by now, and my absence will be noticed. I don't
wish to put Hettie in an untenable situation again."

Luke could not protest, much though he'd have
liked to. "Very well, my sweet." With a last, quick kiss, he rose,
then helped her out of bed for a longer kiss that promised the
future.

As at Oakshire House, they dressed in
silence, but this time punctuated by smiles and touches. They were
linked now, and would remain so, whatever came. Luke had never felt
more content.

Once they were both dressed, he led her back
through the house and out the kitchen door. Again, no servants were
in evidence, and he congratulated himself on having the foresight
to warn them away before leaving the house this morning.

Pearl apparently noticed as well. As he put
his hands to her waist, preparing to toss her into her sidesaddle,
she commented, "It seems you took the precaution of sending most of
your servants away for this occasion. Were you so certain of
me?"

She was smiling, clearly not upset by the
thought, but he felt obliged to defend himself anyway. "I merely
wished to be prepared for all eventualities, of course."

Chuckling, Pearl opened her mouth for a
retort. Before she could speak, however, another voice cut through
the morning quiet of the mews.

"So it's true. Lady Pearl, I would not have
believed it of you!"

As one, they both spun to face Lord
Bellowsworth where he stood at the entrance to the mews, his eyes
wide with horror.

"Back to Plan A," Luke muttered under his
breath. Releasing Pearl's waist, he strode toward Bellowsworth.
"You are abroad early, my lord." Though he spoke softly, his voice
held a warning —one his unexpected visitor did not heed.

"Not as early as the two of you, it seems."
Bellowsworth's eyes flicked from Pearl to Luke and back, his
expression still disbelieving. "I am shocked, my lady. Beyond
shocked. Whatever am I to tell my mother?"

Luke had to swallow a laugh at this
unexpected conclusion, but managed to keep any hint of amusment
from his voice. "You won't be telling anyone, Bellowsworth. To do
so would be to besmirch the Lady Pearl's honor."

Tearing his eyes away from Pearl,
Bellowsworth finally focused on Luke, now directly before him. "I'd
say you've done that already, Hardwyck."

"And?" Luke asked ominously.

"And . . . and you'll both be sorry for it,
when word gets out. The Duchess will be most displeased, my
lady."

Luke sighed inwardly. The man was a complete
milksop —he simply could not be provoked. Deliberately, he removed
his gloves. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pearl watching, her
eyes wide— but not as wide as Bellowsworth's.

"What . . . what are you doing?" he
stammered.

Instead of replying, Luke struck him across
the face with his gloves —not violently, but smartly enough to
sting. The soft thwap of kidskin against flesh was amplified by the
silence around them. Behind him, Pearl gasped —as did
Bellowsworth.

"I knew you were not worthy of her," Luke
said, almost conversationally. "As you will not defend the lady's
honor, I see I must. Name your seconds."

For a moment, he thought Bellowsworth would
refuse —or faint dead away. But the man apparently had some
vestigial backbone after all. "Very well, Hardwyck," he said in a
strangled whisper. "I'll . . . I'll send his name to you
shortly."

"Have him call on Lord Marcus Northrup." Luke
coolly reminded him of the proper procedure. "He will act for me."
Marcus's face, when informed of this fact, would be most amusing.
Luke rather looked forward to seeing it.

"Very . . . very well." Bellowsworth seemed
completely at a loss, shaken almost to the point of tears. "May I
escort you home, Lady Pearl?"

Luke tensed. How dared he—?

"Thank you, no." Pearl's voice held not the
slightest quaver. "It seems more appropriate that my
protector
do so."

Luke had to bite his lip to stifle his
amusement at the double entendre. Whether Bellowsworth caught it,
he could not tell, for the man merely flushed scarlet and bowed
stiffly before disappearing around the corner as quickly as he had
appeared.

The moment he was gone, Pearl ran to Luke and
surprised him with a fierce hug. "You were marvelous!" she
exclaimed. "But now we must manage our elopement before this
meeting can take place."

Luke set her away from him, both hands on her
shoulders, with a frown. "What do you mean? I'm quite looking
forward to meeting Bellowsworth on the field of honor —not that the
man seems to have any."

"Exactly. I don't think he'll go through with
it. More likely, he'll report the whole thing to the authorities
and attempt to have you arrested. We dare not risk it." Her violet
eyes were wide with concern for him. Luke was deeply touched, but
he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, my love. Whatever the risk, I
cannot fail to appear, particularly as I was the one to offer the
challenge. Even a thief such as I has more honor than that."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he
silenced her with a quick kiss. "Besides," he continued,
"Bellowsworth may surprise us and come prepared to duel. For all we
know, he's a crack shot."

"This is supposed to comfort me?" she
demanded, her fine eyes now snapping with anger. "Men can be so
absurd, with their high-flown ideas of honor. History is littered
with
honorable
corpses. I would not have you become another
one."

"Never fear, my sweet," he said, reaching for
her again. "I promise to be careful. Now let me see you home."

She spun away from him. "I'll see myself
home. It appears I am the only one I can truly rely upon after
all."

Her grand exit was somewhat marred when she
had to wait for Luke to help her into her saddle. It gave him one
more chance to reason with her.

"Pearl, it will all turn out right, you'll
see. No one will be killed, and Bellowsworth will relinquish his
claim on you. We won't have to elope after all."

She stared down at him from atop her mare,
her expression unreadable. "Then I suppose it is worth the risk
—for you. Good day, my lord." With that, she turned her mount,
flicked the reins, and was gone.