Married to the Viscount (39 page)

A sudden gleam shone in his face as he reached behind her. When he brought his hand back, it was full of custard. “Time for dessert, darling,” he said as he smeared it over her breast.

“Spencer!” she exclaimed as the cool wet stuff dripped off and began to slide down her belly. “What—”

He seized her breast in his mouth, and her protest turned to a groan. His lips and tongue were everywhere, sucking and licking and generally driving her insane.

Dragging his mouth free, he gazed up at her with eyes alight, then licked his lips. “Mmm. I can see we’ll be having custard often for dinner.”

He reached behind her for more, but she scooped it from his hand when he brought it back. “Don’t be greedy. You have to share with your wife.”

She smoothed it over his chest, then bent her head to lick it off. Moaning, he leaned back to give her better access.

Heavenly day, but he tasted good, and not just because of the custard. Had it been only two days since she’d tasted his warmth, smelled his tangy scent, felt the smooth flesh jerk in response to the caress of her mouth? His male nipple met her tongue like a currant floating unexpectedly in one’s custard, and she nipped it, wishing she could devour all of him.

Maybe then he’d really be hers. Maybe then she could feel sure she had him forever.

That sobering thought made her sigh against his chest, but he didn’t allow her any regrets. Sticky with custard, one of his hands sought her breast to tweak and tempt the nipple while his other plundered her between the legs, plucking deftly at her own currant before driving his fingers deeply into her. She groaned and pressed herself against both his hands.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured.

“You’re already inside me,” she quipped.

His gaze glittered a warning. “You know what I mean.”

“Then you know what to do.”

Frustration filled his face. “You’re on top. You have to help.”

“Help what?” She mustered an innocent smile as she
stared down at the male flesh growing impossibly larger against her cleft.

“Devil take it, woman, do you want me to beg?”

“Absolutely. You deserve to beg after how you’ve acted the past two days, you and your not so subtle attentions and your furtive touches and your sly insinuations—”

He swallowed the rest with a sensual kiss that he probably meant to distract her.

She jerked back with a laugh. “But of course you won’t beg, will you? You always ask if I want you to, yet never once have you begged me for anything. The great Lord Ravenswood never begs.”

His eyebrow crooked upward with the arrogance of a thunder god. “Certainly not. Why should I beg for what we both want?”

This time when his insolent mouth came down on hers and brazenly took what it wanted, he didn’t stop with that, oh, no. Like a wicked divining rod, his fingers returned unerringly to the very source of her spring, then worked it until her fluid flowed hot and thick for him and the hollow ache between her legs grew to a gnawing hunger only he could satisfy. But when she ground herself against his hand, he withdrew it abruptly.

“No more of that until I’m inside you,” he vowed as he grabbed her hips. “So if you know what’s good for you, my wild rose, you’ll rise up on your knees and take me.”

She would have balked at his tone of command—and his scurrilous tactics—but she wanted him too much. Trying not to look overly eager, she did exactly as he bade.

He moaned when she slid down on him completely. “My God, Abby, you weren’t the only one suffering, you know. I’ve spent two days craving your hands on me, wanting your kiss, needing this.”

What woman could resist such a thrilling admission? With a coy smile, she rose and came down again…and again,
relishing the rough breaths she forced out of him, the rough moans he couldn’t repress…and the sweet delight of having control over him for a change.

“That’s it,” he choked out. “Ah, darling, yes…like that…you do that so well.”

The praise further swelled her enjoyment. All right, so maybe he wouldn’t ever release his control enough to beg, but at least he could release it enough to let her take charge of their lovemaking. How many other men would?

And this felt so good, so…so erotic. When his mouth sought her breast and she angled forward to help, it got even better. The spot between her legs that always ached for him now pounded squarely against his pelvis. Feverishly, she increased her pace, seeking more of that incredibly delicious sensation. Like a swollen stream massing behind a dam, excitement gathered just there, beating against the dam over and over until the dam strained to hold it back…

“Yes…Yes…” he rasped. “You’re mine now…Never forget it…”

How could she? No matter what happened, he’d always be part of her. He was the tide of her ocean, the thunder of her storm. And when he suddenly surged deeply to release a hot flood of his essence inside her, he burst her own dam, drowning her in the most exquisite pleasure, sweeping away everything before it…all her fears, her uncertainties, her insecurities.

Until the waters subsided, slowly but inevitably. Until their pulses receded to normal and their breathing fell into a steadier current. Clasping him tightly to her breast, she tried not to think of what she’d just done and how it complicated everything.

Then he whispered against her ear, “I love you.”

And just like that her joy returned. With a little murmur of surprise, she settled back on his knees to stare at him, half in fear, half in hope.

“I love you,” he repeated, his gaze perfectly sincere. “I think I always did.”

“You didn’t.” Though her heart soared, she hadn’t yet become completely irrational. “But it’s all right. If you love me now, that’s enough.”

“No, really, I did.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Almost from the first time I saw you. You were wearing braids and standing in your kitchen in a cloud of purple while you stripped stalks of dried lavender.”

She blushed. “I wish you didn’t remember that. You and Nat arrived a day before your letter said to expect you, and I wasn’t prepared. I’m sure I looked awful when Mrs. Graham brought you into the kitchen.”

He fingered the pendant she still wore around her neck. “You looked sweet and pretty and innocent. Your cheeks were flushed, and crushed lavender petals were sticking to your apron. I wanted to dust them off just so I could put my hands on you.” He grinned. “Then I wanted you to dust me off so I could have
your
hands on
me
.”

“Really?” she said archly. “The way I remember it, you assumed I was a servant and said, in a very uppish tone, ‘Please inform your master and mistress that Lord Ravenswood and Mr. Law have arrived.’”

He chuckled. “And you said, with a saucy smile, ‘Please inform Lord Ravenswood and Mr. Law that the mistress is aware of their arrival and will take them to the master once she’s changed her clothes and washed up.’ Nat laughed his fool head off.”

“You didn’t. My impertinence probably appalled you.”

“Not so much appalled as surprised me. You gave me no chance to respond before you flounced off toward the door. And once I got a good look at your impertinent and exceedingly fine derriere, I thought of only one thing—what it would be like to strip off your gown and ravish you right there in your father’s kitchen.” He released the pendant to
run his finger over her breast and then her nipple. “I should have followed my impulse. It would have saved us months of frustration.”

She laughed. “And sent Papa into a miraculous recovery as he chased you to the altar with a flintlock.”

“Exactly.”

As he kissed her in a sweet confirmation of all his love, her hope swelled even higher. If he truly loved her, then surely he meant to commit to the marriage. And that was all she wanted.

Spencer was stiffening again inside her when a knock sounded at the door to the dining room. He wrenched his mouth from hers with a curse. Glancing back at the door, he called out, “I told you not to disturb us!”

There was a short silence. “Yes, my lord, I know.” It was McFee’s hesitant voice. “I most humbly beg your pardon, but Lady Evelina has come to speak to you about an urgent matter concerning your brother. She awaits you in the front drawing room.”

At the mention of Nathaniel, Spencer’s returning erection died inside her. “Very well. Tell her I’ll be there shortly.”

“Tell her
we’ll
be there shortly,” Abby called out, then slid off Spencer’s lap.

As the sound of McFee’s footsteps receded, Spencer stood. “There’s no need for you to go, Abby.” Dipping a napkin in water, he rapidly washed the remaining custard from his chest. “Why don’t you head upstairs to my bedchamber and wait for me?” He grinned. “And take the extra custard with you.”

“No, indeed, my randy husband.” She cleansed herself, too, then pulled up her chemise and tied it. “Anything that concerns your brother concerns me. So we’re both going. The custard will have to come later.”

With a heavy sigh, he muttered. “Oh, all right. I suppose
the sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can have more dessert.”

They dressed and made themselves as presentable as possible under the circumstances, then headed for the drawing room. In the hall they saw McFee, who stiffly refused to meet their eyes when they started by.

Her embarrassment was acute…until she remembered what she’d seen earlier outside her bedchamber. Mr. McFee had the audacity to look down his nose at
them
, for heaven’s sake?

A perverse impulse seizing her, she paused. “Oh, Mr. McFee, I wanted to thank you for coming by my room earlier to bring Spencer’s gift. I’m only surprised you didn’t wait around to hand it to me yourself. When I first came out of the dressing room, you and Mrs. Graham were nowhere to be found.”

Mr. McFee’s ruddy complexion deepened to scarlet. “I…er…thought it best to leave the box with Mrs. Graham.”

“Yes, I gather that. She was most appreciative.” She waited until McFee’s eyes swung to hers in alarm, then added, “Of your trust in her, I mean.”

As she moved on, Spencer bent to whisper, “What was all that about?”

“It seems my servant and your butler have formed an attachment to each other.” She leaned up close to his ear. “I saw them kissing in the hall when they didn’t know I was watching.”

Spencer stared at her. “My McFee? And your Mrs. Graham? Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. They made an assignation for later.” She grinned as they neared the stairs. “And he even squeezed her bottom.”

Spencer burst into laughter.

“Shh,” she hissed, “he’ll know we’re talking about him.”

“I hope he does. He’s probably discussed my shortcomings with the other servants for years.”

She thought of what Mrs. Graham had said. “Probably.”

“So tell me,” Spencer added as he dropped behind her on the stairs. “How did he squeeze her bottom? Like this?” He grabbed her left buttock with one hand, then cupped the right in his other. “Or was it more like this?”

Giggling, she hurried up the stairs to escape him. “I swear, Spencer, sometimes you are very wicked.”

“You’re just now finding that out?” he teased as he caught up with her.

“You hide it well beneath your seriousness.”

“Either that, or you simply bring out the devil in me,” he whispered.

She was still laughing when they entered the drawing room together.

Chapter 23

The wise servant avoids involvement in his employer’s family relations.

Suggestions for the Stoic Servant

A
bby’s pleasure vanished when she caught sight of Evelina pacing the drawing room, her hands worrying a handkerchief much too violently for her generally mild manner. “Thank God you’re here, my lord,” Evelina exclaimed. “You have to help me.”

“Of course,” Spencer said in soothing tones as he left Abby’s side to take Evelina’s hand in his. “What do you need?”

“I have to speak to Nathaniel right away.”

Only Spencer’s rigid stance betrayed his sudden agitation. “Why?”

Evelina hesitated, her anxious gaze shifting beyond Spencer to where Abby stood. Finally she steadied her shoulders and whispered, “I’m carrying Nathaniel’s child. And if he doesn’t come back to marry me soon, everyone will guess what we’ve done. Mama will never forgive me, and my sisters will have no future.” She burst into tears.

A desperate look crossed Spencer’s face as he folded the weeping woman in his arms. “There, there, don’t fret. It’ll be all right.”

Poor Evelina. How could it be all right when they didn’t know where Nat was?

“How far along are you?” Spencer asked.

“Well…since we only…were together the one time after he first returned from America…I figure it’s…not quite two months,” the girl gasped between hiccupping sobs. Gazing up at Spencer, she wailed, “So you have to get him back here right away!”

Spencer shot Abby a questioning glance, but she had no idea what to tell him to do or say. Evelina still thought Nat was in Essex.

“My…my last letter to him,” Evelina went on, managing to stifle her sobs, “the one telling him about the baby, was returned from Wales in the post this afternoon. Now I have no way to locate him and—”

“Wales?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed. Releasing Evelina, he stepped back to stare at her. “Why did you write to him in Wales if he’s recuperating in Essex?”

Coloring, Evelina dropped her gaze. “I…er…you see…I knew he wasn’t in Essex. Because he came to visit me before he left town the night of your dinner.”

“What?” Spencer roared. “And you never told me?”

“Please don’t be angry,” Evelina pleaded. “He made me promise not to say anything; he told me it would ruin all his plans.”

“For what?” Spencer growled. “To abandon and humiliate you publicly while he waltzed off to spend Abby’s dowry?”

“Of course not!” Sniffing, Evelina walked over to sit on the sofa. “His plans for you. And Abby.”

Now intensely curious, Abby took a seat beside Evelina. “What are you talking about?”

Evelina wouldn’t meet Spencer’s angry gaze. Instead, she fixed Abby with a pleading look. “He wanted Spencer to marry you, so he made it happen. And then he ran away to make sure that Spencer didn’t undo everything he’d done.”