Ruined by Moonlight (23 page)

She quivered when he touched the dainty dark triangle of her pubic hair, the color in her already-flushed cheeks deepening, but she didn’t try to turn away though her slim hands flexed as she obviously resisted the urge to cover herself. “I’m glad you think so,” she whispered, the words holding a feminine throatiness. “But I am hoping that is not all you admire about me, my lord.”

“No,” he said, taking off each slipper before unfastening a garter and easing a silk stocking down her smooth thigh and calf, tossing it aside, “but I do admit I can’t give a list of your other admirable qualities at the moment. I want to be inside you so badly that apparently my mind has ceased to function.”

Did she have any idea how glorious she looked, fully naked when he dispensed with the other stocking, all pale satin skin and lustrous dark hair, woman incarnate and readied for her lover…?

He doubted it. Most gentlemen treated their wives
differently than their lovers and so far he’d been no exception, but more and more he was starting to think that had been a grave error on his part. Yes, she was a lady—an innocent one when he married her—and despite that she had pointed out earlier she was no longer a bride, it was entirely his fault she was still inexperienced in the bedroom.

Tonight would be different.

Ben smoothed his hands upward over the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and gently pushed. “Open for me.”

“I—” She started to speak, stopped, and he guessed he’d never know what she was going to say because she took in a deep breath that made her breasts rise seductively and parted her legs.

The leap of faith would not go unrewarded. Ben lowered his head, parted the soft folds of her sex, and pressed his mouth in exactly the right spot. The first flick of his tongue stifled her initial stiffening in objection, and the second slow whirl brought her hands to his shoulders.

“Ben!”

The manner of address was almost as surprising as when he called her his love. She rarely used his given name, much less the shortened version.

He rather liked it, especially at the moment when he was licking, tasting her arousal, hearing the heightened cadence of her breathing.

Slowly he set about bringing her to climax, urging her higher and higher, his hands firm on her hips as he played upon her confusion and rising sexual tension, each small sound and gasp giving him a sense of satisfaction. To his gratification, when it happened she did not hold back but cried out and shuddered against him, her legs wide open
now as the orgasm overtook her receptive body in quiver after quiver until she went limp.

Only then did he rise to unfasten his breeches with clumsy hands, shove them down his hips, step free, and join her again on the bed. “Call me Ben again,” he told her, touching her cheek lightly, marveling at the incredible indigo color of her eyes. “Remind me that Lord and Lady Heathton are not in this bed.”

Alicia wasn’t positive she would ever quite recover from the glorious thing that had just happened, but before she had time to contemplate the matter, her husband was positioned between her legs, the pressure of his entry causing another shimmer of pleasure so acute she made a very, very unladylike sound of enjoyment.

His eyes closed, the lowering of his lashes slow and the rigidity of his muscles under her palms betraying more than the dusky hue of his flushed face or the obvious care he took to push his hard length into her body inch by inch. He’d always done so, every movement slow and measured, and now she realized that some of the disappointment of the past was that she’d caught glimpses of that rapturous burst he’d just given her in the most scandalous way possible—but it had been elusive.

In that single moment she’d understood a great deal more about the dynamics of the world of men and women.

She’d also learned something very important about her husband.

It had never occurred to her that he separated the man from the earl and his fortune and privilege.

“Alicia.” He began to move in and out in long slow strokes, his gaze holding hers, his breath warm against
her lips as he lowered his head to kiss her again. Under her hands his skin was hot and damp and it wasn’t long before he shuddered and went still, the flood of his release forceful and deep inside her as the air left his lungs in a low groan.

Languid, enlightened, content to lie beneath him, she waited for what he might say next, because what had just happened had been…perfect. She did not wish to break the spell.

Neither did he apparently, because once their breathing had calmed, he simply eased free, rolled to his side, and put his arm around her waist.

At least he hasn’t carried me to my room,
she thought with philosophical jubilance, though it was no mystery as she drifted toward sleep that he was still wide awake, their bodies nestled together, his seed sticky between her thighs.

Without a doubt everything had changed for her this evening. Her last coherent thought was to wonder if it had changed for him? His silence could mean…anything.

A
ll conversation stopped so it was utterly quiet at the breakfast table when she first entered the room and sat down. She should not have been surprised, but Elena was fairly sure she was not the one who needed to speak first. It was unfortunate her grandmother was in residence now that the season was in full swing. The night before had been more the tearful reunion; now, in the light of day, it was time for the reckoning.

She and Ran had discussed what they would say when they escaped—if they escaped—but the finer details had not been ironed out. Since they had no idea why they’d been abducted, who had done it, or even how it had been orchestrated, even inventing a story was impossible. Now that it was over she was starting to realize that though getting away had seemed to be the most important thing just yesterday, this morning the who, how, and why were the least of her problems.

“A disaster.” Her mother took the initiative and broke the silence, a piece of fruit from her compote on her fork, which she waved in the air as she obviously
continued the discussion they’d been having before Elena’s arrival. “Of monumental proportions.”

“Gargantuan.” Her Castilian grandmother agreed with appropriate emotion, motioning for more coffee with an imperious hand. “Enormous.”

“And a good morning to you too.” She picked up her spoon to stir some sugar into her coffee.

“I’m sorry, darling. Did you sleep well?”

She hadn’t, actually. It was surprising how quickly a person became accustomed to sharing a bed. It wouldn’t be very productive to point that out so she said instead, “It’s good to be home.”

“What do you think Lord Colbert is going to do?” Her grandmother looked at her pointedly.

As far as Elena was concerned he could cry off and she would not be in the least upset. After all, he did not have midnight silk hair and a quicksilver smile. He certainly never would have taught her the finer points of cheating at cards, nor, she suspected, would he have done such wickedly delicious things to her body.…

And this was not the time to sit around dreaming of the nefarious lord who never actually ruined her but who might possibly have ruined her contentment with a safe, orderly marriage.

“I admit I have no idea. I really don’t know the man all that well.” Which, she had to ponder as she tried to take a bite of coddled eggs, was ironic. Wasn’t it?

God bless her aunt Margaret, who spoke up staunchly. “Elena is back safe and sound. I would think that, rather than bemoaning the possible whispers, we would all be celebrating.”

“Of course.” Her mother still gave Elena a reproving
stare. “But a person cannot ignore the future because the present has worked out in a satisfactory fashion. This is no longer a crisis”—her gaze did soften across the table—“but I am still concerned.”

In general they did get along well, but Elena was well aware her mother held very strict views of the role women played in society. Becoming a wife and mother was the only option, and marrying well the ultimate goal.

“Elena and I will discuss this in my study later,” her father said with his usual brusque authority, his quelling glance sweeping the occupants of the room. “Until that time I suggest we change the subject.”

She couldn’t help but wish that interview could be postponed, but with a sense of inevitability she did her best to eat, rather missing LaSalle’s incomparable chocolate croissants, of which she’d become inordinately fond. When the meal was over she rose and followed her father down the hall to the hallowed sanctuary of his personal study, where she’d last been, she recalled, the day he’d informed her that he and Lord Colbert had come to an agreement on the marriage settlement and the engagement was official.

This promised to be a different sort of conversation.

“Please sit down, my dear.” Her father motioned toward a chair. When she sank down, he took his usual spot behind his always tidy desk, the papers stacked in perfect piles, not a drop of ink on the blotter and his pipes lined up in an immaculate row next to the tobacco jar. When he folded his fingers together in a mannerism she knew well, she braced herself for a lecture, though, in this case, she could honestly say she was blameless.

Well,
almost
. Blameless for the abduction, blameless for being locked in a tower with London’s most notorious
womanizer, and blameless for arriving home the evening before in a state of undress. But while she still was technically a virgin, she wasn’t blameless for the interludes spent in Ran’s arms.

And curiously enough, she didn’t regret it one bit.

“Last evening,” her father began, “in the emotional aftermath of returning home to find that you were unharmed and restored to us, I was too overjoyed to ask probing questions. I am still overjoyed, but please understand that your mother is correct. Your safety was my most pressing concern; you seem well enough, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

As far as she knew she’d never been in any real danger, though she had to admit that if it wasn’t for LaSalle and Benjamin Wallace it was hard to say what their ultimate fate might have been. “I’m also happy to be home,” she said neutrally, fingering the skirt of her pale rose muslin day gown. All the requisite garments were actually confining after a week’s reprieve.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Not an unexpected question. She’d debated how to answer it, and she and Ran were both well aware their story might not be believed, but nothing else would work either. How could a person—two persons, in this case—explain their mutual absence for five damning days? She still didn’t know what they would say, but to her father she would give the truth.

She did, as succinctly as possible, explaining how she had awakened first, taking care to mention Ran’s outraged accusation that she had possibly instigated the situation, and then going on to the guard, the silent servants, and finally the note to LaSalle and Lord Heathton’s timely arrival. Her father listened without comment,
though he drew his brows together once or twice, and when she finished, he looked at his clasped hands for several moments and then glanced back up. “I confess I am perplexed.”

“So was Lord Andrews. He seems to think this might have more to do with me than him.”

“Does he, now? You swear to me he did not persuade you to run off with him?”

She looked back steadily. “I should not have to swear. I just told you the absolute truth. If I were going to lie, trust me, I would make up something more believable. I feel ridiculous recounting the story but that is what happened.”

For a moment, by her father’s scowl she thought he might argue, but then he sighed, leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his forehead. “Even when you misbehaved as a child, you did not deny it. If you say that is what happened, I believe you.”

She’d definitely misbehaved as an adult recently, but hopefully he would not question her about that directly. “What is it you suggest we do now?”

It was much more her father’s provenance to take charge, and he was obviously grateful to assume it. “I will talk to Colbert. I am not positive what I am going to say quite yet, but he is a decent sort. As unhappy as he is over this turn of events, he is hopefully reasonable enough to see it isn’t your fault. If only Andrews weren’t the other party, this might not be of such interest to all the gossipmongers. When you first were missing and it was rumored he was gone also, that was Colbert’s concern. He wanted to know if I was aware of a connection between you. I told him of course not. I would not allow that libertine anywhere near my daughter.”

The other party.
An interesting way to put it. As for being a libertine, perhaps the description fit but she knew Ran was so much more than the rakish picture of him that was often painted.

She already missed the hint of perpetual laughter in his eyes, the easy companionship, the teasing power of his smile, the way he looked at her as if she were the only woman on the earth.…

She missed
him
.

And had the sinking feeling that was not going to change.

Elena shook it off. “Speaking of Lord Colbert, I’ve been thinking…what if this was directed at
him
? What if someone wished to ruin me because of our engagement?”

“Colbert? I can’t really imagine it. He’s far too upright and honorable.”

Unfortunately, that might just be true. Boringly so, she could add, but doubted her father would appreciate it. “I think it is very difficult in this life to go through it and not have an enemy or two, no matter how sound your character. Whatever the motivation, it remains that now he is forced into a somewhat difficult decision.”

Her father rubbed his chin. “I suppose that is true and puts a different slant on it.”

“I thought so too.”

“But Andrews is a much more likely candidate. The man is a notorious philistine.”

“Who avoids marriageable young ladies as if they carry the plague,” she argued reasonably, doing her best to not leap to Ran’s defense. “You cannot have this both ways. This will not affect him other than the speculation. He is immune because he doesn’t care about gossip and
never has. He didn’t instigate what happened and he will not be ruined by it either. Other than his utter frustration at being locked away for five days when he has obligations, this will not significantly affect his life.”