Tempting a Sinner (22 page)

“No, that would be Mr. Castleton.”

Malinda stroked the dog’s head. “That name sounds familiar to me. I wonder why?” She flicked a glance at Joan. “Is Mr. Castleton in his fifth decade and does he have blue eyes and black hair graying at the temples?”

“That sounds like him, but—here you are, miss.” Joan opened another door and Malinda peered into the darkness. She could smell the stables and other unsavory things, but it was at least quiet.

She had a name and it was vaguely familiar to her. Perhaps it was time to return to Benedict. The dog whined and scrabbled to be put down so she released him into the yard.

“What are you doing back here with that door open, lass?”

Malinda turned to see an older man approaching them and immediately spun back ’round, crouched down on her heels, and called the dog.

“The lady needed to see to her dog, Mr. Castleton.”

“Did she now, then ask her to be quick about it before we all freeze to death.”

“Yes, sir.”

A sharp bark announced the return of the dog. Malinda gathered him close in her arms and turned back to Joan.

“Thank you so much. I should be getting back to my bunny before he becomes anxious.”

“You’re welcome, miss.”

They started back up the corridor. It was only at the last moment that Malinda realized the elusive Mr. Castleton had remained in the hall and was staring at her intently. She hurriedly buried her face in the dog’s fur and hoped he hadn’t gotten a good look at her. Hopefully, like most men, he was more concerned with ogling her bosom.

Just as she reached the door of the private parlor, it opened and Benedict appeared, his pocket watch in his hand.

“Oh, there you are, bunny!” Malinda cooed. “Did you miss me?”

She wrapped an arm around his neck to kiss him and whispered, “I have a name, but I think we should leave right now.”

“I’ve already ordered the carriage to be made ready.”

He stepped back into the room and she let go of him. To his credit, he didn’t immediately start interrogating her. Instead, he left some coins on the table, wrapped her cloak around her, and picked up the dog.

“Let’s go.”

She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and leaned against him, burying her face in his coat. He might not look like her Benedict, but he still smelled like him. The inn was busier now, and he had to force a passage through the incoming passengers who’d just alighted from one of the mail coaches. Malinda kept her head down and clung to him like a limpet.

She didn’t take a proper breath until they were inside the carriage and moving away.

“What happened?”

Benedict’s relaxed air had disappeared.

“It was unfortunate.”

“What did you do?”

She raised her chin. “I merely took the dog out to piss. I asked Joan to come with me. She told me that her father was the landlord of the inn.”

“So?”

“I asked if he owned it, and she said that was Mr. Castleton. I described our man and she agreed it sounded as though it could be him.”

“And that didn’t make her suspicious?”

“I implied that I knew him in a more intimate manner than she did. She didn’t question me further.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, the man himself chose to come and inquire why the blasted door was open and letting in the cold. I didn’t realize until too late. I think he caught a clear glimpse of me.”

“Is it likely that would matter?”

She met his gaze. “It might. Do you remember Fred Castleton from the regiment?”

“I do. He was a friend of your father’s.”

“Well, I think it was him.”

M
alinda hid a yawn as she glanced around the table in Adam’s office. It was well past midnight and it felt as though she’d been sitting in the same spot for hours. Benedict, Adam, and Faith were locked in an argument about the importance of what had happened at the inn, and what they should do about it. She was still surprised that Benedict had taken the news so calmly. He was obviously determined to prove that he could conduct an investigation without emotion. It was quite disconcerting.

He looked over at her. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“Just a little tired.” She summoned a calm smile. “Now that I think about it more rationally, I don’t understand why we need to worry about Fred Castleton. It’s unlikely he would remember me after eighteen years, and I
was
disguised.”

“Surely that depends on whether he’s involved in this business or not. I doubt it was a coincidence that we ended up at the very inn he owned, do you?”

“I wonder how he got the money to purchase the place?” Adam asked. “Was he an officer?”

“No.”

“Then perhaps we need to find a way to talk to him about his finances.”

Benedict stood up and held out his hand to Malinda. “We aren’t going to come to a decision tonight, so maybe we should all go to bed and sleep on it?”

“An excellent idea.” Faith rose too. “Ian will be furious at missing all this.” She paused to kiss Malinda’s cheek. “Sleep well, love.”

Malinda followed Benedict up the stairs and into his apartment and allowed him to help her out of her elaborate gown. She sat down at the dressing table to unpin the blond wig and grimaced at the faint stirring of a headache. Even after taking off the wig, she still had to undo her tightly braided hair.

Benedict disappeared into the bathing room next door and returned with wet but powderless hair and climbed into bed, blowing out all but one of the candles. By the time Malinda eased the final braid apart, the candle had almost burned through. She brought it over to the bed, found her nightdress, and put it on. She knew immediately that Benedict was not asleep. Tension hummed through his frame and heat radiated from his extremities.

She turned onto her side away from him and resolutely closed her eyes, only to open them again as Benedict sighed.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Malinda asked.

“No.”

She persisted. “You told me that you do your best thinking last thing at night.”

“That’s true.”

“I can hear your mind ticking like a carriage clock.”

He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know that you’re tired.”

“I won’t be able to sleep until you settle down, so you might as well say what you are thinking. I did my best to do as you asked me, Benedict. I wasn’t sure if my questions to Joan would yield anything.”

“Yet you had to ask them.”

“When the opportunity arose, I took it—which was exactly what you would have done in my shoes.”

“Fair enough.” He rubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. “I wasn’t actually thinking about Fred.”

“Then what?”

“Your performance this evening.”

“I knew you wouldn’t approve.” She rolled onto her back. “It worked, didn’t it? I got the information we needed. And to be honest, I suspect Fred Castleton was too busy looking at my décolletage to worry much about my face.”

He shifted on the sheets. “As was every man there.”

“I know. It’s ridiculous.” She cupped her breast. “I’m not even that well-endowed.”

His hand covered hers. “You’re perfect.”

Her nipple pebbled against her palm. She tried not to think about it. “Every time I believe we are making progress, everything gets more complicated.”

“Are you talking about the ambushers or about us?”

She sighed. “Both, I suppose.”

“There is one certainty.” His fingers slid underneath hers and took possession of her breast. “We are married.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“Which means that anything we do in this bed together is sanctified by both church and state.”

She swallowed hard. “You don’t have to justify your lust, Benedict.”

His hand went still. “I apologize if I have insulted you.”

“That’s not what I meant. There’s always been a spark between us. Lust is as convenient a name for it as anything else.”

The candle finally spluttered and went out, leaving them in darkness.

“I can’t stop wanting you.”

He sounded as though the words were being dragged out of him.

“You don’t have to.” She tried to sound calm. “It’s not as if I have the willpower to say no. And as you mentioned, we
are
married, so you don’t even need my permission to exercise your conjugal rights.”

He came up on one elbow and looked down at her. “That’s not amusing. I would never—”

“Force me?” She forced herself to smile even though he probably couldn’t see her face. “Shall I make it easier for you? Would you like me to seduce you? Then you can lie there and simply pretend to endure.”

He stayed braced over her and she wished he would simply
move
or do something before she said something she might regret.

“You think I
endure
your touch?”

“If I answer you, will you go to sleep?”

“Surely that depends on what you say.”

She set her jaw. “You endure me touching you, and being close to you, because you lust after me. Is that clear enough?”

“Even if it is just lust, I still like to be touched.”

“No, you don’t, Benedict. You put up with it to get what you want, which is use of my body because you
lust
after me. And you hate yourself because you want me.”

“I do not—”

She reached up and put her trembling fingers over his mouth. “You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want anyone in your nice, ordered life. You certainly don’t want someone like me, who irritates you enormously.”

He jerked out of her reach. “You’re my wife.”

“So you keep saying.” She reached down and pulled her nightgown up to the waist, spreading her legs wide. “Then take me.”

With a groan, he lowered his weight onto her, his cock a hard, throbbing presence against her stomach. She wrapped a hand around his neck.

“It’s all right to want, Benedict.”

He bit her throat, her shoulder, his whole body shuddering as he entered her and started to thrust hard and fast. She turned her face to the side and contemplated the shadows thrown by the fire while he worked himself to a climax and came deep inside her.

After a long moment, he raised his head, his breathing uneven. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to lie back and endure.”

“I believe this is how a wife is supposed to behave.”

“So you denied yourself pleasure to prove a
point?
”

She bit down on her lip and steadily avoided his gaze. “Are you done? May I go to sleep now?”

“Damn you.”

He moved, and she tried to turn away from him, but he was too quick, his hands spreading her thighs wide and his mouth descending on her sex. He had her coming around his tongue and fingers in less than a minute, and she shook with pleasure. He didn’t stop there and rolled her onto her stomach, mounting her from behind, his fingers plucking at her clit, demanding her response as he fucked her again.

When he came, he collapsed over her and pinned her beneath him, one hand planted by her face, his head beside hers on the pillow.

“There’s one other thing a wife does for her husband, Malinda. She gives him children. Have you thought about that?”

She kept her eyes closed to keep him out, but it didn’t work.

“You’ve let me come inside you.” His voice roughened. “Many times. If you are with child, Malinda, you
will
tell me.”

So many words crowded her throat. She forced them all down. She couldn’t fight him about this, she just couldn’t.

He gave her shoulder a slight shake. “Malinda . . .”

She kept herself still and quiet, hoping he’d give up, knowing that had never been his style.

With an exasperated sound he moved away from her, but only to light a candle and return, scooping her up into his lap. She instantly buried her face in his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Dammit, what could she say? What would he like to hear? “If I’m carrying your child, I’ll let you know.”

He caught her chin in his hard fingers and made her look at him, his gaze steady.

“Are you already with child?”

God, she had to end this conversation for both their sakes. She forced a smile and patted his cheek.

“Don’t worry, Benedict. If the worst happens, I’ll remove myself and any offspring of yours to Alford Park. You can come and reclaim the boys when they are old enough to go away to school.”

He blinked and she saw the mingled anger and hurt in his blue eyes.

“I’m not my father.”

“Is that what he did to you?”

“That’s what every aristocrat does.”

She kissed his nose and wiggled off his lap. “Then, that being settled, may I go to sleep now? It’s been an eventful day.”

He didn’t stop her getting away from him, but he didn’t move either, his gaze fixed on his lap where she’d been sitting. He slowly exhaled.

“If the prospect of bearing my children alarms you so greatly, would you rather I didn’t share your bed at all?”

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. How had she ever thought she’d fool him into believing she didn’t care? He knew her better than she knew herself.

“That’s up to you and your inconvenient lust, isn’t it?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure I can find someone who’s perfectly willing to help with that.”

Without another word, he rose from the bed and walked out, shutting the door softly behind him. Malinda kept her eyes closed, but the tears still came and there was nothing she could do to stop them or control her anguish. Like a fool, she kept arguing with her conscience, that if they could just get through the current crisis, she could tell him
everything
and be strong enough to watch him walk away. She’d misjudged him. He obviously didn’t know the whole story, and that was probably due to his father’s machinations. She’d realized that almost immediately, and was simply being a coward. She was afraid to alienate him further because she needed his strength. She needed
him
. And that was as terrifying to her as his lust probably was to him.

“You’re up early, Benedict.”

“Good morning, Faith.”

She waved him back into his seat and poured herself some tea. “Did you even go to bed?”

“I—” He stopped abruptly as he remembered exactly why he’d spent the night in his office sleeping uncomfortably on the couch. “I had a lot to do.”

“Strange. You look exactly like Ian does when he’s at odds with me and didn’t sleep in his own bed.”

“I’m always at odds with Malinda.”

“She certainly challenges you.”

His appetite deserted him. “She thinks I prefer my life to be barren and uncomplicated.”

“And do you?”

He looked across the table at her. “I don’t know. It’s certainly more comfortable.”

“I can understand that. Before I met Ian, I thought I’d be perfectly happy being the strange bluestocking maiden aunt to my sister’s children. Marital relationships seemed either overtly messy or downright miserable.” She half-smiled. “And sometimes they are, but the overall experience of being married to someone triumphs over those bad days.”

“I haven’t decided whether that’s the case for me yet.” Benedict used his napkin and rose from the table. “And now, if you will forgive me, I have to get on.”

“Are you still happy for me to take Malinda to the musical afternoon at the Spensers?”

“Yes, as long as you take one of the guards with you.”

“I will, and Benedict?”

He paused at the door. “Yes?”

“I’ve sent someone directly to the convent where Malinda and her sister were lodged during the war. Do you have any objection?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you.”

Malinda sighed and tried to refocus her attention on the opera singer who was murdering a piece of Mozart’s
Marriage of Figaro.
She’d worn one of the new dresses Benedict had supplied to replace the ones that had perished in the fire, but even its peach beauty couldn’t console her for the entertainment. Beside her, Faith was listening with a slight frown on her face and her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

“Don’t look so horrified, Malinda,” Faith whispered.

“But she is so off-key she’s setting my teeth on edge.”

Faith touched her arm. “Let’s discreetly move along, shall we? Thank goodness we sat near the back.”

They escaped into the adjourning salon and helped themselves to a fresh cup of tea and some pastries until polite applause signaled the end of the performance.

Malinda shuddered. “We don’t have to go back in there, do we?”

“Not if you don’t wish to, my dear.”

“I already had a headache, and that didn’t help.”

“Didn’t you sleep well either?”

Malinda narrowed her eyes. “I assume you’ve seen Benedict?”

“He was just finishing his breakfast when I arrived in the morning room.” Faith paused. “He seemed rather upset.”

“Upset? Benedict? I doubt it.” Malinda put down her plate. “About what?”

“Presumably the same thing that you are upset about.”

“I’m . . .” Malinda sighed. “I can’t wait until this is all over and he allows me to go back to Alford Park.”

“I’m sure that will make you very happy, dear.”

“It will make Benedict even happier.”

Faith considered her for a long moment. “I’m not sure about that. Benedict might
think
he wants everything to go back to how it was, but I doubt he means it.”

“If that’s what he said, I’m sure he meant it.” Malinda tried to ignore the tight ball of pain around her heart. “I’ve caused him nothing but trouble.”

“You’ve certainly shown the rest of us a side of him we never knew existed.”

“And he doesn’t like that at all.” Malinda looked toward the door, where people were starting to come through from the music room. “Can we leave?”