Rory (21 page)

If Shannon wasn’t mistaken, Georgiana had smiled at her throughout dinner that evening, taunting her. How confident she was. Rory had done his best to get her attention, but Shannon would not glance at him even once.

Perhaps she behaved like a jealous wife, but she could not help it. He had made love to her, then turned around and bought another woman a trinket? It’s not that she expected gifts from him. She didn’t, and yet how easily he had given something to a woman he had admittedly told her he didn’t care for.

“Are you well, my dear?” Lillith asked, and Shannon nodded, forcing a smile.

“Yes, of course. Just a little tired. I fear I did not sleep at all well last night.”

“Forgive me for asking, but Rory is under the impression that you and your brother are in danger.”

Her heart missed a beat. “I am not in danger, Lady Graston.“

“If you were, you would tell me, though?”

“Of course.”

Lillith watched her for a few unsettling moments, then nodded. “Very well, if you say you are fine, then I believe you. My brother-in-law seems to care for you both very much.”

“I care for him as well.”

She smiled. “Let him know how you feel, then. Show him, tell him. Don’t let him wonder.”

“I will. Thank you, Lady Graston.”

“You’re welcome.” She placed a hand over her mouth and
yawned. “It has been a long, dreadful journey. Please retire for the evening and get a good night’s rest. I shall see you in the morning.”

“Good night, my lady.”

Tears burned her eyes. She wanted to tell Rory she loved him, but she feared doing so. If he returned the sentiment, she would never leave him.

Shannon left the elaborate chamber and rushed down the hallway. The manor house was so large, it was easy to lose one’s way.

Her chamber was on the ground floor and easily accessible to the kitchen. She stepped into the servant hallway and was met by Rory. “There you are.”

“My lord,” she said, dropping her gaze to his wide chest.

She could see his frown, sensed his disappointment at her reaction. “I have missed you, Shannon. Being stuck in that carriage for hours on end has only compiled my longing. I thought it would never end.”

They had not made love for days, and her body ached for him. Even now, just being so close, her nipples hardened.

“Are you off for the night?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

He took her by the hand and they walked down the servants’ stairwell, which came to a hallway. He ducked his head out, and seeing the way clear, motioned for him to follow to his chamber.

Like Lord and Lady Graston’s quarters, Rory’s rooms were also incredible, with oversized mahogany furnishings and fabrics of bold browns and golds.

Setting before a fire was a bath, with steam rising off the surface.

She swallowed hard and looked away.

Already he was undressing, and try as she might, she could not help but stare at his beautiful body.

“Come, join me,” he said, kicking off his shoes, and following with his stockings and then his trousers.

Her mouth went dry.

She didn’t move.

He went to the bath, stepped in, and lowered his powerful body into the water. Her gaze focused on the high, tight ass, the thick, muscled thighs, the strong back, and broad shoulders.

Desire pulsing in every nerve, she undressed. He watched her in the cheval mirror, and she felt an odd sense of power as she slid out of the gown. The chemise clung to her body; she untied the ribbon that held it together and it fell to her feet.

She sat on a chair, slipped off her shoes, then slowly rolled down one stocking and then the other.

“Wait.”

She glanced up at him.

“Spread your thighs.”

She frowned but did as he asked, opening her thighs the slightest bit.

“More.”

He made her feel positively wicked. Although she was embarrassed, she did as he asked and spread her legs wider, until each thigh slid over the sides of the chair.

“Let down your hair.”

With trembling hands, she removed the clip that held her bun in place and the tresses came tumbling down.

“Yes, that’s nice. Now play with your breasts.”

She licked her lips and lifted her hands to her breasts. The nipples stabbed into her palms and tightened into tiny buds. A rush of excitement touched her spine as she cupped the small mounds and then, using her fingers, touched the rigid peaks.

He released a moan and shifted in the tub.

Sensing his excitement, she continued to play with herself, rolling her nipples between her fingers and thumbs, and pulling, much as he would do when pleasuring her. A sharp ache began to grow between her thighs, and she slid one hand down her stomach, through the nest of tight curls that covered her sex.

“Yes,” Rory said from the tub.

She was already wet. Her flesh was sensitive, and as her fingers rolled over the tight bud at the top of her sex, she bit her bottom lip.

Rory had never seen anything as sexy as Shannon pleasuring herself. This was a woman who had been a virgin not so very long ago, and watching her touching herself was extremely gratifying. Already he was as hard as stone.

She pulled at her nipple while sliding a finger inside her sweet, tight quim. He could see the moisture there, and it was his undoing.

“Come here, Shannon.” His voice was husky.

She licked her lips again, and he anticipated those soft pillows wrapped around his cock.

Doing as he asked, she walked across the room, and he didn’t take his eyes off her. She had never been so excited in all her life.

“Sit on the edge of the tub,” he demanded, nodding toward the opposite side.

She sat down, easing her legs open as she gripped the edge tight.

His gaze shifted from hers, to her breasts, to her sex. She could see his cock in the clear water, the way it reared against his belly.

Then he was between her thighs, spreading them wide, his breath hot against her woman’s flesh.

His tongue barely grazed her and she cried out in ecstasy. He stroked her from back passage to clit, teasing the tiny nub with the tip of his tongue.

“Get into the tub, turn around, on your knees.”

She did as he said, turning her back to him and going up on her knees, her fingers gripping the sides of the bathtub.

Once again he tasted her, his finger toying with her clit. With his free hand he reached beneath her and cupped her breast, teasing a nipple.

He slid his cock into her and she sucked in a breath. He moved slowly, his strokes long and even.

Rory clenched his jaw. She was so tight, so wet. He cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples, her sighs and moans telling him she was getting closer to orgasm by the second.

Shannon cried out as she met climax, and Rory followed behind with a guttural moan.

With trembling legs, she eased back into the tub and the warm water. Rory slid his hands around her, hugging her to him, and she relaxed against his wide chest as he kissed her neck and shoulder.

She could get used to such moments, the intimacy one could share with another. If only they could have such a future.

“I am glad you came to Claymoore Hall. There are so many things I want to show you.”

She smiled, content and sated. “Did you spend a lot of time here as a child?”

“I did. My mother has always preferred the country to the city. My brothers and I would run wild and free. There was always so much to do.”

She had also been brought up in a large manor house on acreage. She had always loved horses. One of the most difficult
parts about being in servitudemust warn them. I do not was that she never had time to herself, and never was able to ride. At least Zachary had been more fortunate.

“Perhaps tomorrow I can talk Lillith into giving you time off.”

“The other servants will be angry with me,” she said, glancing back at him. “There are already some who believe I have been given too much for the short amount of time I have worked for Lady Graston, and I do not blame them. I should not receive special privledges.”

He brushed a curl over her ear. “Shannon, what if when we returned to London, I set you up in your own apartment?”

Understanding the question fully, she looked away. Disappointment ate at her insides. He wanted her as his mistress, not his wife. What did she expect? She was a servant, after all. Too far beneath him to marry.

She took a deep breath, released it. “You wish me to be your mistress?”

“I do.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, Shannon. You will never have to work again.”

Yes, but for how long? Until he tired of her and replaced her with another? It didn’t matter anyways. She was leaving in a couple of days and she would never see him.

“My brother–”

“I would never separate you. He can live in your household. Whatever will set your mind at ease, I shall do.”

“Let me think on it,” she said, hoping the answer appeased him.

“I’ll treat you well, Shannon. You’ll never have to worry about struggling again. I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone harm you in any way.”

The declaration made her throat tighten. For a moment, she
allowed herself the luxury of dreaming about what her life could be like. What it would feel like to be with Rory and under his protection.

As lovely as that fantasy was, she realized she wanted more. She didn’t want to be just his mistress … she wanted to be his wife.

L
ady Anna could not recall ever darkening the door of a library, and yet she felt compelled to do just that after her disturbing conversation with Clinton O’Connor.

Last night he had once again drank a lot of whiskey and smoked opium, the combination effectively loosening his tongue. When he started slurring his words, she had asked specific questions, being careful to skirt the issue of Shannon and Zachary. He had made mention of a fire, that he would inherit a fortune and then all those who had denied him would come crawling to him.

“May I help you, my lady?”

Lady Anna smiled at the buxom lady before her, glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Yes, I believe so … I am looking for information about a fire that might have taken place in Dublin earlier this year.”

“I shall see what I can do.” The librarian disappeared in a back room for a quarter of an hour, then resurfaced with a substantial stack of papers and set them on a table. “The publication
comes out every week. If it is newsworthy, it would be here.”

Anna looked at the heap with growing dismay. Perhaps she should have asked Thomas for assistance, but he was no doubt sleeping the day away.

“You may want to wear gloves, so as not to get ink on that lovely dress of yours.”

“I shall, thank you,” Anna murmured.

“Let me know if I can help you in any way,” the lady said, walking toward her desk, where a large stack of books awaited her.

An hour later, Anna was quickly losing hope of finding any information that would be helpful, and the kink in her neck was not helping her foul mood one bit.

She set the newspaper on the stack of those she’d scoured, and her heart lurched seeing the heading: Prominent Dublin Businessman and Family Perish in Deadly Fire.

Her hands began shaking when the name O’Connor jumped from the pages. Earl, Ennis, and their children, daughter Shannon, and son Zachary, all died in the blaze, it said.

Her stomach twisted sickeningly as she realized the possibility that she had been cavorting with the O’Connors’ killer. From what the newspaper said, Clinton was the only living heir, and he had been hunting the night of the fire with another servant. Anna wondered how he had come to know that Shannon and Zachary had escaped the blaze.

“How are you doing?”

Anna jumped when the librarian appeared from behind her.

She glanced at the paper. “You found what you were looking for?”

“Yes, I’m wondering if you have pen and paper. I need to write down information.”

“Of course.”

Bringing the items Anna asked for, the librarian rushed off to help another patron.

Anna could barely keep her hand steady as she wrote. She must tell Rory of her findings immediately.

Marilyn had just fallen asleep when she woke to someone pounding at the door.

Her aunt and Lord Graston had left for Claymoore Hall, and the manor felt extremely empty without them. Now she wished that she had gone, but she had stayed in London because Stanley had asked her to stay.

Since a skeleton crew had been left behind, Marilyn went to the front door and opened it. “Lady Anna.”

“Did Shannon and Zachary leave town with your aunt and Lord Graston?”

She looked so pale, so concerned, that Marilyn became frightened. “Yes, why?”

“May I come in?”

Marilyn led her into the parlor where she’d been reading. Anna shut the door behind them. “I fear that Shannon and Zachary are in grave danger. I have discovered that their cousin was responsible for setting fire to their family home in Ireland.”

“What on earth?”

“Apparently he meant to kill the entire family, but Zachary and Shannon escaped.”