Rory (19 page)

C
linton O’Connor stayed by Anna’s side the rest of the night. The couple sat on a settee in a far corner of the parlor where the majority of Lillith and Victor’s guests mingled. Though he played a game of chess, he seemed rather preoccupied with the comings and goings of the household servants, his gaze riveted on the parlor door.

As long as he knew where the Irishman was, Rory could rest easy that Shannon was all right. It would be a gutsy move to stroll through a stranger’s home looking for a servant.

Marilyn approached him. “So I was not the only one who noticed the Irishman’s keen interest in Shannon.”

Rory glanced at her. “You did as well?”

She nodded. “You know, when I was shopping with Aunt Lillith and Shannon the other day, Shannon had a very odd reaction. She was looking at her reflection in the mirror and I was standing right behind her. Her gaze shifted slightly–to something or someone–and she gasped.”

“Did you see who it was that startled her?”

“No, but earlier I had noticed a young man watching us, but I did not think anything of it. After all, men are known to stare, but tonight when I met Clinton, he seemed familiar to me. And not familiar in a sense that we’d been introduced, but that I’d seen him somewhere. It took me until just now for it to come together.”

Rory’s pulse skittered. “There was a man in London that day. An older man with silver hair and a thick mustache. Victor and I saw him following you.”

Marilyn frowned. “In the tea shop?”

“Yes, Victor and I were across the street and we saw him follow you out of the shop. When you stopped at the stationery store, he waited outside and watched you from the street.”

She gave a shiver. “You’re scaring me.”

Anna stood and walked toward them, leaving her companion behind.

“Let me know if I can help,” Marilyn added.

“Thank you,” he said, just as Anna approached them.

Anna smiled. “We are going to leave shortly, but I was hoping to have a word with you first,” she said to Marilyn.

“I shall keep your guest occupied,” Rory said, walking off in Clinton’s direction.

“I watched your fiancé during dinner … and you must know he will never make you happy.”

Marilyn frowned. How like Anna to make such an assumption based on what she saw. “I have every confidence in Stanley.”

Making an unladylike snort, Anna slid her hand around Marilyn’s elbow and urged her onto the verandah.

On the other side of the door, Anna turned, backing Marilyn against the wall, a hand on either side of her face. She leaned close, her breath warm against her cheek. “One night is all I ask. One night. Let me show you how wonderful it can be.”

Marilyn glanced past her shoulder into the parlor. No one seemed to have noticed their sudden disappearance.

“Come with me. Just for a few minutes. I swear we won’t be long.”

“Where will we go?”

Anna didn’t answer. She just took her by the hand and led her down the verandah steps and onto a stone pathway that was cast in darkness. Only a flickering lantern lit their way. “You are going to Claymoore Hall with your family?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I could come.”

Marilyn pressed her lips together. “Stanley wants me to stay in London.”

“And do you want to stay in London … because of Stanley?”

Marilyn couldn’t get the memory of Anna’s touch out of her mind or the excitement that danced along her spine.

“I will rent a room at the Cavendish Hotel. I would very much like for you to come see me, Marilyn.”

Marilyn licked her lips and Anna’s gaze followed the path of her tongue.

“Please, come to me tomorrow.”

“Marilyn!” It was Stanley.

“Good God, that man does not let you draw breath without him, does he? How very irksome.”

“I must go.”

Anna dropped Marilyn’s hand and took a step away. “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow, Marilyn.”

Shannon slipped into Rory’s room at twelve-thirty on the nose. He wasn’t there.

All night she had paced her small room, terrified that Clinton would walk in at any moment and kill her.

How did he plan going about it? she wondered, hoping that Zach had remained out of sight. She prayed he did not harm Lord and Lady Graston’s household because of them.

She would never forgive herself if that happened.

Walking across the room, she stared into the burning embers of the fire.

The door opened and closed, and Rory appeared. Her heart gave a leap. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No.”

“Good.” His gaze slid slowly down her body and back up again, and she wondered if he were able to see straight through her shift.

“Scandalous man,” she said, as he lifted her up in his arms and slid her bottom onto a side table, settling between her thighs.

“The men in the room missed you when you left. One even commented on your absence.”

Her heart missed a beat. “Oh, and who would that be?”

“Lady Anna’s companion.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I only wanted you to miss me.”

He smiled against her lips. “You always know what to say.”

She kissed his throat, his jaw, the lobe of his ear, and he moaned while he unbuttoned his trousers.

“You aren’t going to undress?”

“I can’t wait. I’ve wanted you all night.”

His cock probed her entrance, and he slid inside her heat. Their mating was fast and furious. Shannon could sense his urgency, the need to claim her, and she clung to him, needing him, especially since she knew that soon she must leave him.

Their breaths mingled together as they met climax, and she said his name on a moan.

Anna was being so quiet.

Too quiet for Clinton’s comfort level. He had hoped to get a glimpse of one of his cousins tonight, and he was stunned when Shannon had walked into the dining room. How far she had fallen in such a short time, and he could not help but remember the last night he had dined with her at the family estate in Dublin. She had worn a sapphire gown of the finest silk her mother had ordered from Paris, and her pale curls had been styled in a most pleasing manner, drawing more emphasis to her angelic features.

She was a prize, and well her family knew it.

And now she wore servants’ garb and labored for her room and board.

Soon he would deal with his cousins but now he must put his friend at ease. Anna had watched him closely this past hour. She had said little as they’d stood awaiting the carriage and he’d been relieved by the silence, especially since he’d been busy looking frantically about for Zachary … but to no avail.

“Thank you for taking me tonight,” Clinton said, sitting back against the velvet seat.

Anna stared at him but said nothing.

“You are angry.”

“No, I am confused. You made a fool of me tonight in the way you stared at that servant.”

He licked his lips, his mind racing. Anna might be young, but she was not stupid. “She looked familiar to me. I thought I remembered her from when she worked for another employer, but I was wrong.”

“Why do I not believe you?”

His stomach tightened. He could not afford to fall from Anna’s good graces. She was his ticket into the ton, and though she didn’t have the best reputation, any reputation was better than none at all.

“I’d like to repay you in some way.”

She lifted a brow.

Having seen evidence of her inhibition firsthand, he knew he had nothing to lose. He reached beneath her skirts, his fingers drifted up her calf, over her creamy smooth thighs, to her hot core.

“No drawers, Lady Anna. How very wicked you are.”

Her legs opened and she glanced past his shoulders to the sheer, lace panels. She suddenly looked undecided. They had not yet moved, stuck in the line of carriages departing the estate.

He slid two fingers inside her and started pumping. She was so hot for him, so wet, and already he could imagine being balls deep inside her weeping core.

His thumb brushed over her clit and he added another finger. Her hips moved in time with his hand, and he continued stroking her faster and faster until she came, her honey drenching his fingers.

He went on his knees on the floor and settled between her spread thighs. She trembled, feeling his hot breath on her women’s flesh. She nearly came off the seat when he licked her slit from back to front, lifting her clit with the tip of his tongue.

The carriage started to roll, and they passed by the front of the manor where a group of guests stood, awaiting their carriages. A shiver of excitement rolled through her. She had always enjoyed being watched while having sex. Had loved the parties where she had worn masks and wigs, leaving the guests guessing at identities. She knew people talked about her and the way she had been so lax with her charms, but she had given in to her excitement, to the moment, and now had to live with the consequences. Her grandmother had said she must change her
reputation, but a reputation was a difficult thing to change, especially when she had done so much damage.

Those thoughts evaporated as Clinton’s talented fingers squeezed her thighs and he probed her with his tongue.

His cock tented the front of his pants. He glanced up at her, and seeing where her gaze was riveted, unleashed his cock.

He pulled her bottom to the edge of the cushioned seat and slid into her with a moan.

The carriage slowed in traffic, and she had a moment of panic and could swear she heard a gasp. Her head fell back on her shoulders and she gripped the worn velvet seat as he thrust against her, over and over again.

It was so hot.

The heat was incredible, undeniable, and there was nothing Shannon could do to get away from it. Behind her eyelids she saw the bright light and heard the crackle and popping of wood in the distance.

A scream brought her awake, and she sat up in her bed abruptly.

The smoke was so thick she couldn’t see her doorway because of it. The floorboards groaned beneath her and she came instantly alert.

The door opened and a figure appeared, his face covered in soot.

“Zachary?”

“Come on, Shannon. We have to get out.”

“Where are Mum and Dad?”

“I don’t know.”

Panic the likes she’d never known rocked her. “We have to help them.” she pleaded. But as they stepped out into the hall
way, she saw the flames roaring up the stairwell. Her parents’ chamber was on the first floor.

The heat was so intense, she could barely draw breath. And the smoke choked her lungs.

They rushed down the steps, and she could see the hallway was in flames. Her parents’ chamber was at the opposite end of the hallway and she had no way of knowing if the flames had reached their wing yet.

“Fire!” she screamed from the top of her lungs, hoping that somehow her parents heard her, or better yet, had already made their way to safety.

Rory woke up out of a dead sleep, hearing the frantic call.

Shannon was beside him, her breathing uneven, and she let out a whimper.

The only light in the room came by way of the single candle that had burned down to a dim flame.

“Fire,” she cried, and he lightly shook her.

She opened her eyes wide, looked at him, and blinked a few times.

“You were having a nightmare, Shannon.”

Tears stained her face and he brushed them away with his thumbs.

His heart squeezed seeing the pain in her eyes, and he pulled her into his arms. “Come here.”

She snuggled against his warmth.

His hand brushed up and down her back.

“What time is it?” she asked abruptly.

“I’m not sure.”

She set up on her elbows and looked toward the clock on the mantel, but it was too dark to see the time. “You dreamt about a fire.”

She stiffened but said nothing.

“Shannon, you need to trust me. I fear for you.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest and he cursed beneath his breath.

“Do not be angry with me, Rory.” Reaching up, she toyed with a lock of his hair. “I couldn’t bear to have you mad.”

She could get anything from him with those haunting blue eyes and that innocent smile. Indeed, he could not remember a time he had felt so strongly toward a lover. Fondness he had felt, and on occasion even a bit of possessiveness, but never an all-consuming need to make her his in every way.

“One day I shall tell you everything about my past.”

He lifted her chin with his fingers and brushed his thumb over her full lower lip. “Do you promise?”

She nodded, “Yes, I swear.”

R
ory noted two things the following morning: His mother was angry with him, and Lady Kinkade was positively furious.

He understood the latter. He had heard Georgiana knock on his bedchamber door last night, but he had not answered. Thank goodness she had not lingered for too long.

But now he would have to explain the obvious. A locked door meant he didn’t want her, but apparently she was not the type of woman to take no for an answer. Lord knows he had tried, and Lord knows she had tried, especially when she had taken him to the servants’ party. He knew her intention. She wanted to make him jealous, or perhaps she had been out to prove a point. Whatever the case, it had backfired. He had become even more obsessed with Shannon, and he wanted her with everything he possessed.