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Authors: Jenna Petersen

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Time was ticking away. Once they were out of the carriage, he realized she wouldn't allow this. He had to do this now or perhaps never do it again.

He dropped his mouth to her and pressed a wet kiss to her lower lips. She arched up into him, his name gurgling from her mouth as he licked her sex from top to bottom. She thrashed against the carriage cushion, her legs already shaking like she was close to release.

He glided a hand to her and pressed one finger deep into her clenching sheath. She lifted her hips as he breached her, and her breathy moan was all he needed to tell him she had been waiting for this. For him.

He pumped in and out of her gently as he continued to lick and suck her. He felt the carriage moving, bringing them ever closer to the house. He latched on to her swollen clit and began to suck as he worked his fingers in and out of her body, gentle, yet demanding at the same time.

He felt the moment just before she came. Her entire body stiffened and her nails dug against the leather of the seat as she wailed out a sound of release and then her body was rippling around his finger and her face contorted with pleasure and relief.

The carriage pulled up to the door now and Caleb quickly smoothed her gown down around her. He got to his own seat just as the footman opened the door for them. Caleb got out first and waved the servant away as he put a hand back in for Marah. She stared at him, at his waiting fingers, for a long time before she finally gripped his hand and stepped onto the drive. There was no mistaking her trembling as she pulled her hand free of his.

They were silent as they entered the house together. Crenshaw was there to greet them.

“Lord and Lady Baybary sent word,” the butler said with a drawn frown. “May I inquire after the marquis?”

Caleb nodded with a smile for the man who had served his father as well as he now served his brother. “He made it through the crisis, thank you.”

The butler gave a relieved sigh and seemed to droop.

“You may retire now, Crenshaw,” Caleb said, returning his focus to Marah. In the brighter light inside he could see how her cheeks remained pink with pleasure and embarrassment. “I don't think Lord and Lady Baybary will return tonight and you should have your rest.”

The butler bowed and left them alone. Slowly Caleb moved on her.

“Come with me to my room, Marah,” he whispered.

Her gaze darted up, wide and surprised and also filled with longing. But she shook her head. “My servant would know.
All
the servants would know.”

“It doesn't matter,” he coaxed as he reached for her hand.

She pulled away. “It matters to me. You may not care if you ruin yourself, Caleb, but I
can't
let you ruin me. I'm sorry about what I just allowed to happen.”

He frowned as she backed up, holding up her hands as a shield. “You don't mean that. You wanted me, you wanted what happened.”

She nodded. “Indeed, I did. And I didn't turn away from you. But I am not an animal, Caleb. I sometimes want things but I don't follow through because I know they are wrong for me or for the others around me.”

“Unlike me,” he said, stinging from her rejection and still on edge from the evening's earlier events.

She nodded without hesitation. “Yes. I have watched you wreck yourself every night since our arrival.”

He pushed out a burst of unhappy laughter. “I am nothing different than I was when you met me two years ago. And you liked me then, you even called me charming.”

“Is that what you think?” Marah asked with an incredulous shake of her head. “Do you really believe that by doing the same things and being with the same people that somehow you are the same? You aren't. I see you going out every night, you drink to excess, and you are cold to your mother, and often to your sister. There is
nothing
charming about any of those things. You may have fallen back into your old life, but there is no happiness in that fall. No joy.”

He stared at her, stunned by how accurate an assessment she made of him. Somehow his soul was an open book and she could read it without effort.

“And yet you still want me,” he pointed out, determined to expose her as deeply as she had exposed him. “Even as you are courted by another man, even as you tell me again and again that you ‘can't' or ‘won't' surrender yourself to me.”

Her cheeks grew even darker.

“What I want is very different from what I need,” she finally whispered.

He cocked an eyebrow. “I think I just gave you what you need.”

She frowned. “No. What I
need
is the kind of man who won't run when there is trouble, like my father did. Like you did. I need someone who can be a friend to me and a partner. Someone steady and decent—”

“What an awful life that sounds like,” he interrupted as he folded his arms.

She shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps to you. You are right that I've claimed I can't want you and then turned around and allowed you privileges I shouldn't have. I have been confusing and misleading and for that I am sorry. But this ends now, Caleb.”

“You've said that before,” he replied.

She nodded. “But this time I mean it.”

She turned without further comment and walked down the hallway and up the stairs. He watched her go with a new and strange desperation clawing at him. Marah might have said she was ending things between them before, but this time he'd seen something different in her face when she said it.

This time he feared it might be true. And only when he tested her resolve would he know for sure.

Chapter 13

E
merson took the cup of tea Marah had poured for him and gave her a wide and generous smile that held none of the hesitation she felt beside him.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said as he took a sip, then set the cup aside. “And I apologize again for how long it's been since I called on you. I have been mobbed by the increasing demands of my business, but I will endeavor to make you more of a priority from now on.”

Marah shifted in discomfort on the settee across from him, but somehow managed to put a smile on her face. “Think nothing of it. I have been quite busy myself.”

He smiled and then began to talk about his investments further. Somehow Marah managed to nod and did her best to appear interested, but in truth her mind wandered.

Wandered to last night. She hated herself for thinking of the way Caleb had spread her open and pleasured her until she could hardly see, hardly think, hardly breathe. Here she was, sitting with a man she one day hoped to marry, and yet it was Caleb's breath on her inner thigh that she incessantly thought about.

But she had ended it with him. This time for good. To prove it to herself, she had invited Emerson to tea. It was best to put all her attention and energy on him. It was the only way to keep her sanity.

“And that is why I believe it is actually a good thing that your identity as the late earl's daughter has come out,” Emerson said with a benign smile.

Marah blinked, pulled from her reverie. “I-I beg your pardon?”

He frowned and for a moment she thought she saw irritation in his expression but then he wiped it away.

“I was saying that my sources tell me your identity as the late Earl of Breckenridge's daughter has been recognized by the
ton
at large.”

Marah stared at him. “Wh-where did you hear that?” she asked. “How?”

Emerson arched a brow. “Gossip from your realm
does
filter down to the lower class, my dear. And since I do have a particular interest in you, I tend to hear things about you, to ask about you.”

Marah stared. She supposed she should be flattered by his attentiveness, but she wasn't. The idea that he would run around trying to find gossip about her made her feel violated rather than cherished.

“You must realize that this is a difficult and painful situation for me,” she said through clenched teeth. “When I revealed to you a few months ago that I had a relationship to that family, I also told you they had abandoned me in every way that mattered. The fact that the entire
ton
now knows that fact and is discussing it with such zeal brings me no pleasure.”

“I understand that must be true,” Emerson said as he reached out to take her hand. “But with the death of your maternal grandmother, you are all but alone in this world.”

“I have Justin and Victoria and my other friends,” Marah insisted, shaking her hand free of his. “They would protect me and take care of me just as family would.”

He nodded. “Of course, but I think it would be foolish to completely cut yourself off from any chance of a reconciliation with your father's relations. And you never know, they may be more open to your presence now. Seeking them out could be very advantageous to you.”

Marah frowned. Caleb and Victoria had both made clear their concerns about Emerson and his true intentions. Now their comments met with her own doubts and she found herself questioning his every statement.

She swallowed. “I suppose it would be good for you as well, if I one day reconciled with my family. If you continue to have intentions toward me, a reunion could one day align you with a most powerful family, with great resources for you to tap for your business.”

Emerson stared at her for a moment, and in his eyes she saw hints of emotion. A bit of outrage, even a touch of hurt. Those things confused her even further.

“Do not think so low of me,” he said softly. “Or mistake my intentions. When I met you, I had no idea of your family affiliations. I didn't care. I only think about your comfort and well-being when I recommend you open yourself to a rebuilding of your family. If I overstepped a boundary by making the suggestion, I apologize.”

“No, it is I who should apologize,” Marah said with a shake of her head. “These have been difficult days.”

“For all of us,” came a voice behind them. Marah turned to watch as Caleb entered the room without waiting for an invitation. “Hello, Winthrop.”

Marah's lips thinned. Even after her dismissal of him last night, the man
refused
to honor her request and let her go. And why? He had no honorable intentions toward her, that was clear enough. And yet he was like a spoiled child with a toy. He didn't want it, but he didn't anyone else to play with it, either.

“Winstead,” she snapped, folding her arms and glaring at him.

Seemingly oblivious to her angry stare, Caleb flopped himself into a chair and started perusing the tea cakes the servants had brought to accompany their refreshments. As he gulped one down in one bite, he said, “Whatever you say. So, how's business, Emerson?”

Emerson glared at him with as much heat as Marah was. “Very good, thank you.”

“Growing?” Caleb asked, though this time he shot a meaningful glance toward Marah.

She gasped in outrage. Had he been eavesdropping on her private conversation? How dare he!

Emerson seemed to recognize that fact, as well, for his eyes narrowed. “Indeed, it is. But I don't think you really care about the state of my affairs, Mr. Talbot.”

Caleb's eyes actually sparkled, as if he'd been waiting for this showdown and now he was excited to finally begin it. “Don't I?”

“No.” Emerson folded his hands in his lap. “I think you barged into this room and intruded upon our privacy solely to express your superior attitude toward me. You wish to judge me simply because I was born outside of your precious Upper Ten Thousand.”

“You know me very little,” Caleb said with a dry laugh, “if you think that is true.”

Emerson gave a shake of his head. “Perhaps you are right about that, Mr. Talbot. Perhaps I'm far off the mark about your reasons to dislike me. But I am not blind. If you don't despise me because of my lack of rank, then perhaps it has more to do with the fact that you look at Marah with wolf eyes.”

That stopped Caleb mid-bite of a second tea cake. Slowly he set the sweet down and faced Emerson fully. “Watch yourself now, friend.”

Marah had been watching the exchange with stunned disbelief, but this was enough. Rising to her feet, she snapped, “Both of you, just stop it!”

The men looked at her, and it was clear that they hadn't even been thinking about her while they snapped at each other. They were just barbarians, banging their chests and marking their territory.

“Emerson,” Marah said through clenched teeth. “I would very much like to take a walk if you would be obliged to escort me.”

Emerson rose with a quick bow. “Of course, my lady. I would be honored.”

“Good,” she said. “I'll just have a quick word with Mr. Talbot and then join you in the foyer.”

Emerson hesitated and she could see that her beau didn't like the idea of leaving her alone with a man he saw as a rival. But if she had her way, that would be finished. Now.

Finally he nodded. “As you wish, Lady Marah.”

He left the room and as soon as he was gone, Caleb leaned back in the chair and looked up at her. Marah waited for him to mock, to tease her about Winstead, but instead he said nothing. Only burned holes in her with those piercing eyes.

“Please,” she whispered. “Why can't you honor my request? Why can't you let me go?”

He straightened up, and his expression became even more serious. “I don't know, Marah.”

His quiet answer troubled her more than any long explanation would have. She shook her head.

“If you cannot back away and let me be, I-I will have no choice but to quit this house and return to Baybary.”

He stared at her. “You would do that?”

She hesitated. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was leave London. Even though she had resisted coming when Victoria initially asked, now that she was here she didn't want to go. She wanted to be here for her friend as the family struggled with the slow passing of Justin's father. And when she admitted the truth, she wanted to be there for Caleb, too.

But she couldn't. Last night had proven she had no self-control when it came to the man. And he refused to practice any himself because he was bound and determined to prove he hadn't changed because of the past.

“You leave me with no recourse,” she answered softly. “I am not like you, Caleb. I
will
do something to better myself and my position. Even if it means parting myself forever from my friends and from you. Good day.”

Unable to say more without fear of saying too much, Marah turned and fled the room, into the arms of another man who made her feel no strong feelings. Not lust, not anger . . . but certainly not love, either.

C
aleb sat in the dark, a bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingertips. But despite the fact that the bottle had been open for over half an hour, he hadn't taken a drink. He had intended to do so. To drown himself and all his feelings in the numbing delights of a fine year, but when he touched the bottle he saw Marah's face.

You may ruin yourself, Caleb, but I can't let you ruin me.

That was what she had said to him the previous night. Those words rang in his head.

He stared into the fire as the door opened behind him. He didn't move and hoped whoever had intruded upon his thoughts would leave him in peace.

It wasn't to be. Justin stepped up to the chair and looked down at him in surprise. “Hello, brother. I didn't realize you were in residence tonight.”

Caleb lifted his face to look at his elder brother. “Did you think I was out carousing?”

Justin smiled as he sank into another chair that faced the fire. “It has been your way of late.” He motioned to the bottle in Caleb's hand. “May I have a glass of that?”

He handed it over. “You may have it all, I don't want it.”

Justin stared at the bottle, still full, and a small smile touched his face. Caleb frowned at the relieved expression. Apparently his brother shared Marah's sentiment that he was wrecking himself with drink and frivolity.

“Would you like to crow about my abstinence?” Caleb asked, his tone peevish as he sank deeper into the chair, with folded arms.

Justin shrugged as he set the bottle down on the floor beside him without taking a drink of his own. “I only worry about you, Caleb. You returned to London vowing to reclaim your wicked life as if nothing had changed. But you don't seem to be having much fun at it.”

Caleb scowled. Again his brother reminded him of Marah's accusations. “Well . . . it isn't very fun,” he finally admitted.

Justin looked at him in surprise. “No? You could always stop.”

Caleb was quiet for a long while. “You sound like Marah,” he finally said softly.

His brother remained silent and Caleb sighed.

“She thinks I'm a coward, you know. And that I'm ruining myself.”

“Aren't you?” Justin asked.

Caleb stared at the flames. “I have tried, but I fail even at that.”

“You have failed at ruination.” Justin laughed softly. “Isn't that a success?”

“Not if one is trying to forget. To numb,” Caleb said with a sigh.

Justin's laughter faded and his nod grew somber. “I'm sorry. And Marah has spoken to you about all this?”

“You sound surprised,” Caleb said as he brought his gaze level with Justin's.

“I suppose I am.” His brother shifted. “I know you two bonded together after she was attacked two years ago, that you told her your secret, but I didn't realize you had remained so close that she would venture such a strong opinion about your life now.”

“We made love that day,” Caleb admitted.

Justin blinked. “What day?”

“The day Victoria was kidnapped and I told Marah about our father.” He swallowed. “We made love.”

His brother was silent for a long time and Caleb held his breath as he waited for the stunned censure, the judgment.

Instead Justin sighed. “Well, I feared as much.”

Now it was Caleb who couldn't mask his surprise. “You did?”

“It was obvious
something
had happened between you,” Justin said with a shrug. “But when you didn't speak to me about your conquest, I thought perhaps it hadn't gone so far as that. Why
didn't
you tell me about Marah?”

Caleb stared at the flames again. In them he could see Marah's sweet surrender that day long ago. Now it merged with her whispered moans in the carriage the night before. All of it tormented him beyond reason.

“I suppose what happened between us seemed too . . . too sacred,” he admitted softly.

“You must have cared for her,” Justin said, his dark eyes focused entirely too intently on Caleb.

He shrugged. “I believe I did. No, I know I did. But my world was upside down. I hurt too much already, I was so confused that the way Marah made me feel when I was near her was too much. So I ran.”

The room was silent for a long time.

“She is right,” Caleb finally whispered. “I
am
a coward when it comes down to it. And she is finished with me now. She has said it before, but this afternoon she meant it.”

Justin tilted his head, and Caleb could see his brother was incredulous about the idea that Marah could simply let him go. But Justin hadn't seen her face when she declared she would quit the house if he didn't agree to her terms. Justin hadn't seen the steel in her eyes.

“But I think she might be right,” he continued, unwilling to argue the point with his brother.

BOOK: A Scoundrel's Surrender
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