Sally MacKenzie Bundle (22 page)

“Uh—oh!”

Tynweith flicked one of her nipples with his tongue. She lifted her back off the bed, offering him more.

“Again. Please.”

“You don’t want me to drink brandy from your navel?”

“No. Not now. Some other time. Take off your clothes.”

He grinned slowly. “With pleasure.”

Slowly, too slowly, he undid his buttons and slid his pantaloons over his hips and down his legs. She wanted to shout at him to make haste, she was burning for him.

Where had this new impatience come from? She shook her head on her pillow, wetting her lips. She could not think about it. She could not think about anything but seeing—touching—Tynweith’s body.

Finally his drawers slid down, letting his hard length fall free.

“Ah.” She thought about freeing her hands so she could touch it.

She had never found that organ attractive, but Tynweith’s was beautiful—thick and long. Larger than Lord Peter’s. Far larger than Hartford’s. She wet her lips again, pulling on her bonds. She wanted to touch it, to stroke it. She was glad it was big. She was empty enough to take it all. She wanted it all now.

Should she touch him?

No. He was bending over her. He licked her breasts, sucked on her nipples. She arched, writhing. He kissed his way slowly down her body. She raised her hips to him, and he laughed, blowing on her heat.

“Anxious, love? Hungry for me?”

“Yes. God, yes. I need you.”

“I am so happy to hear that.”

Finally he brought his body over hers. She felt him heavy between her thighs, touching her entrance.

“Oh. Oh.” She was panting. Burning. Aching. “Something is happening. I feel…I feel…”

“Empty? Needy?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You are ready for my seed, then. Shall I give it to you now? Shall I fill you?”

“Yes.” She almost sobbed the word. She twisted under him. He was teasing her still, hovering just outside her. “Please.”

She slipped her hands free of her bonds. She had to touch him. She ran her hands over the muscles in his back down to his buttocks. She tugged on his hips, trying to bring him closer. “Now. Please.”

“So impatient, my love.” His words were breathy. “Have you never felt this wildness before?”

“No. Never. I want you
now.
”

He chuckled, though his breath was coming quickly and his back was slick with sweat.

“Demanding, too, Charlotte?”

“Yes. Please. Now. Edward, I need you.”

She saw through her madness that his face stilled. His eyes blazed into hers.

“God, Charlotte.” His voice was rough. “God, to hear my name on your lips. I want to hear you scream it. Will you?”

“I…”

He teased her, flexing his hips, touching her entrance, brushing it, but not coming in. She arched up, but she could not capture him.

“My name, Charlotte. Scream it and I will come to you.”

It was not hard to do at all. She felt like screaming in frustration.

“Edward!”

He was a man of his word. She sobbed as he surged into her. She started to come apart even as he entered. Her passage contracted around his hard length and her womb trembled as she felt his warm seed pulse into her.

“Charlotte.” He kissed her slowly, his body heavy on hers. He was still inside her. She liked it. She liked his weight, his possession.

Surely this coupling had given her a child.

She was surprised she didn’t feel more triumph. The job was done, wasn’t it? Now Edward could leave and she could sleep.

She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to do what they had done all over again. She moved her legs against his and flushed.

“I still have one stocking on.”

“Really? I am so sorry to have overlooked that detail. I shall just have to do better next time, hmm?”

He flexed his hips and she felt him growing hard inside her.

“Perhaps I had better try again now, do you think? They do say practice makes perfect.”

She smiled. “Yes, please, Edward. Now would be splendid.”

Chapter Twelve

“I’ve worked out a plan.”

“Hmm?” Charlotte sipped her chocolate. She had not gotten up yet. She didn’t want to. She wanted to pull up the covers and stay in bed all day, remembering the wonderful things that had happened here last night and this morning. Edward hadn’t left until dawn.

“Charlotte,
will
you pay attention?” Felicity’s tone was sharp.

Charlotte blinked. Felicity was glaring at her.

“I’m sorry. You said something about a plan?”

“Yes.” Felicity pulled a chair up to the bed. “I’ve come up with a plan to compromise Westbrooke when the house party visits the ruins today.” She smiled. “Or at the very least, I will remove Lady Elizabeth from the competition for his title.”

“Oh?”

“What do you mean, ‘oh’? This will give you what you’ve wanted, too, you know. Even if I don’t manage to trap Westbrooke, Alvord’s sister should be well and truly ruined. Lord Andrew is taking care of it. You’ll finally have your revenge.”

“Yes.” Revenge was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment—unless it was revenge against Edward for what he had made her do the third time he’d taken her. She hadn’t wanted to do it, but he’d been right. It had been very enjoyable.

Perhaps she could persuade him to take a tour of his topiary gardens after they got back from this trip to the ruins. Now that she was better versed in the amatory arts, she was certain she’d find the shrubbery much more interesting. Inspiring even.

“Charlotte! Where
is
your mind?”

Charlotte flushed. “Your pardon. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

The moment the words left her lips she felt her flush deepen. She must be the brightest shade of red. She glanced at Felicity. The other girl’s eyes had narrowed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been engaged in serious bed play. But you couldn’t have been. Peter spent a lusty night at the local inn last evening.”

Charlotte felt a spurt of annoyance. “So that’s where he was.”

“Yes.” Felicity’s gaze sharpened. “Did you find a substitute?”

Charlotte put down her chocolate and threw back the covers.

“You said you had a plan?”

Felicity gave her one more searching look and then shrugged. “Yes. It is not terribly complicated. I believe it should work like a charm. As I said, Andrew will take care of Lady Elizabeth. Your job is to be certain Westbrooke pays a visit to the castle’s dungeon—alone.”

“How am I going to manage that?”

“He’ll be looking for Lady Elizabeth. Tell him that’s where Andrew took her. He’ll fly down the stairs.” Felicity leaned forward. “And I will be waiting for him. It should take me only a few minutes to set the scene, then you are to come looking for us. Bring as many of the house party as you can, but be sure to include Lady Dunlee. She is a splendid gossip. I hope to have a spectacle staged that will titillate society for many months, if not years.”

“When am I supposed to accomplish this? Westbrooke might be suspicious if I try to send him off the moment his foot crosses the threshold.”

“Tynweith is planning a picnic. After we finish the meal, I will go off. Wait a few minutes and then send Westbrooke after me.”

“Very well.” Charlotte could not find a scrap of enthusiasm for the plan, but she supposed she did owe Felicity something. “I will see what I can do.”

Lizzie straightened her bonnet. She was waiting in Tynweith’s entry hall with the other house party guests for the caravan of carriages to arrive and take them to the castle ruins. They were still missing Lord Andrew, Lord Peter, and Lady Felicity. Perhaps those three had found something more amusing to do. She could only hope. Whatever it was, it was probably depicted in Tynweith’s obscene shrubbery.

She stepped behind a pillar to avoid Mr. Dodsworth.

This house party was a complete disaster. She should never have come. Perhaps she could persuade Lady Beatrice and Meg to leave early.

She glanced around the room. Meg was in close conversation with Mr. Parker-Roth.

Perhaps not.

She straightened her bonnet again. Shouldn’t the carriages be here now? She’d prefer to walk, anyway. It was ridiculous to ride such a short distance.

Her gaze touched portly Lady Dunlee and Lady Caroline.

Well, perhaps carriages were not a terrible idea for some of the party.

She heard a noise on the stairs and glanced up. Another hope dashed. Lord Andrew and Lady Felicity were descending. At least Lord Peter was still absent.

Felicity caught sight of her and said something to Lord Andrew. He nodded and started toward Lizzie. She dodged behind another pillar. She did not want to spend time with Lord Andrew.

She found Lady Beatrice standing next to a statue of Aphrodite. The older woman looked delighted to see her.

“Come here, Lizzie, and pretend to be fascinated by some conversational topic, so Lord Botton will not approach me.”

“He’s talking to Miss Hyde now.”

“Yes, poor woman. If I were of a more charitable disposition I might take pity on her. But I spent an entire hour with Botton last evening and my charity is depleted. It really was too bad of Tynweith to invite the little lecher.”

Lizzie glanced over her shoulder. Lord Andrew was still coming her way.

“I do wish he had not invited Lord Andrew either.”

“Is the boy becoming a nuisance?” Lady Beatrice raised her lorgnette and inspected him. He changed direction quickly and went to speak to Lord Dunlee. “Why aren’t you with Lord Westbrooke, anyway? I believe he has just joined Meg and Mr. Parker-Roth.”

“I…well…we are not on good terms at the moment.”

“Really? Why not? I thought the whole point of attending this affair was to give you the opportunity to bring Westbrooke up to scratch.”

Lizzie flushed. Had she been so obvious? “I’m sorry. You must be very annoyed with me for making you and Meg come.”

“Well, I would have been if I’d known Botton would be here.” Lady Bea laughed. “Don’t castigate yourself, child. I had my reasons for wanting to get away from Town for a few days. And I don’t believe Meg is complaining either. She seems quite taken with Mr. Parker-Roth.”

“The carriages are here!” Lord Tynweith stood at the front door, grinning.

“Now I wonder what has happened to him,” Lady Bea said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Tynweith so jovial.”

“He does seem unusually happy.” Lizzie glanced around. Felicity was looking at her now. “May I sit with you, Lady Beatrice?”

“Of course. Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to join Lord Westbrooke’s group?”

Lizzie met Robbie’s eye for a moment. He looked right through her. He was still as angry as she was over their argument.

“I’m certain.”

“Come along then. We will see if we can rescue Miss Hyde.”

God, he felt wonderful. Tynweith tried to stop smiling. Nell had already commented on his high spirits. Worse, Lady Dunlee had given him a searching look. If that gabble grinder got wind of the fact he’d visited Charlotte’s bed, the story would be all over London within the week. Hartford would not be pleased. More, Charlotte would be distressed.

He would not have Charlotte distressed for the world.

She wanted any baby she might conceive credited to Hartford. Tynweith frowned. He didn’t like that, but there was little he could do about it. She
was
married to the man. And really, if she were enceinte now, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to say for certain who the father was—he, Lord Peter, or Hartford.

Perhaps that was for the best. Still, he hated the thought of his son being raised as another man’s. He should have given that more consideration before he’d climbed into Charlotte’s bed.

No, it would have made no difference. He would not give up last night for anything.

Lady Dunlee was staring at him again.

“You are looking unusually merry this morning, Lord Tynweith. Have you some good news to share?”

He’d put an announcement in the
Morning Post
before he told Lady Dunlee any news, good or bad.

“I don’t believe I do, ma’am, except that it is a beautiful day for an outing.”

She peered at him through her lorgnette. “My lord, how can you say so? Just look at the horizon. Aren’t those rain clouds?”

Lady Dunlee was correct. Sinister clouds loomed off toward the sea.

“Ah, but it is sunny here. The wind may well keep the storm at bay for hours—and I will have the carriages stand ready to whisk us back to Lendal Park at the first rain drop. Your lovely bonnet and gown are quite safe.”

“I see.” The enlarged eyes examining him held a puzzled look that was quickly replaced by a spark of excitement. He swore her nose twitched, as if she could smell the hint of gossip on his person. He half expected her to bay.

The hunt was on.

He tried to keep his face expressionless. “May I help you into this carriage?”

She examined him for another instant and then lowered her lorgnette.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He helped her and Lady Caroline up the carriage steps. Lady Beatrice and Lady Elizabeth came next, dragging Miss Hyde with them.

“Shall I send Lord Dunlee to join you?” He was certainly not volunteering to climb into this rolling inquisition chamber himself. The trip to the castle would take no more than fifteen minutes, but that was more than enough time for an accomplished gossip such as Lady Dunlee to extract all his secrets.

“No, thank you,” Lady Dunlee said. “We will do very nicely without him.”

“Lord Botton, perhaps?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Lady Beatrice glared at him. “Don’t you dare let that lecherous cod’s head in here. And don’t think to fob off that crashing bore, Dodsworth, on us either.”

“Indeed.” Lady Dunlee raised her lorgnette again. She and Lady Beatrice both inspected him as if he were a repulsive bug. Fine with him. He was merely trying to be a thoughtful host. He bowed and stepped back so the footman could close the carriage door.

He sighed with relief as soon as he heard the latch catch. Thank God. He would have to be very careful now that Lady Dunlee was on the hunt. He’d do his best to put as much distance as possible between them this afternoon.