Pleasure Me (28 page)

The obvious disgust in Blackstone’s voice matched his own abhorrence for his uncle’s actions. The son of a bitch deserved a taste of his own medicine.

“How stable are Tremaine’s finances?”

“The man’s suffered several deep losses in the last year that have clearly affected his desire to invest in risky ventures. His situation isn’t dire, but it could be if he were to suffer another substantial loss.” Blackstone frowned in puzzlement. “In fact, I’m surprised he’s willing to continue covering your uncle’s extensive gambling losses.”

“And my uncle’s situation?” He pushed back the fear stirring inside him at the other man’s words.

“You have the controlling interest in all but a few of his smaller investments. If you were to call in those interests, he would have no way of meeting his financial obligations.”

What would his uncle do if Tremaine called in his gambling debts? Garrick rose to his feet and strode to the window that looked over the small garden at the back of the house. Now that the time had come to ruin his uncle, the taste of revenge was slightly sour in his mouth.

The sound of Bertha’s and his uncle’s vicious laughter suddenly reverberated in the back of his head. Just as quickly came the images of his uncle trying to enter Lily’s bedroom, the whippings he’d endured, and the torment the bastard had inflicted on all of them. The dark memories taunted him until tension held him rigid, and the bitter taste on his tongue vanished.

“As I recall, I hold the liens on several cotton mills Tremaine financed last year.” Hands clasped behind his back, he turned around to face Blackstone. At the man’s silent acknowledgment, he smiled tightly. “Have the bank call in the loan on the smallest one. Then in another week call in the loan on the mill he has in Haltwhistle.”

“Do you have a time frame for when you want the monies paid?”

“The man has three weeks from the recall of each loan.”

“
Three
weeks, my lord?” Blackstone sent him a startled look.

“Correct.” He drew in a deep breath. “If Tremaine appears to be having trouble meeting the deadline, I want you to immediately call in the liens I hold on my uncle’s properties.”

“And if Tremaine manages to make payment?”

“Then you’re to call in the next largest debt until the man’s back is against the wall.” At his command, Blackstone nodded.

“Is there anything else you wish me to do, my lord?”

“No. Simply provide me with a daily report as to any changes in their activities.”

Blackstone nodded his understanding as he stood up and bowed in his direction before leaving the small office. As the door closed quietly behind the stockily built man, Garrick turned back to the window overlooking the garden. With his plans for his uncle and Tremaine moving forward, the only other matter of importance was Ruth.

The question of what to do about their relationship hadn’t changed in the past hour. He refused to give her up, and it was impossible to go back to the way things had been before last night. For all intents and purposes, she was his mistress now, and he’d provide for her accordingly. He would simply have to limit his time in her bedchamber. With a grunt of disgust, he realized he was living in a fool’s paradise if he thought that would happen. Staying out of Ruth’s bedroom was the last thing he was capable of doing. He would simply have to secure her agreement that their lovemaking continue under the same conditions as last night. It was reasonable to assume she’d agree to his request. But for how long?

Hopefully long enough for him to formulate an alternative plan, although God only knew what it would be. The one thing he was certain of was that he wanted to make her happy. He wanted to shower her with presents, something she would no doubt protest, but he wasn’t going to let her refuse any more of his gifts. Today’s small token would be the first of many he intended to give her.

He crossed the office to open the small safe tucked next to a large file cabinet in the corner of the room. The tumblers rattled quietly as he spun the dial back and forth until he heard the click that said the safe was unlocked. He opened the strongbox and pulled out a box covered in blue brushed velvet. The safe snapped closed, and he spun the tumblers before opening the box in his hand.

The white tulip-shaped earrings winked up at him. When the Crown Jeweler had forwarded the jewelry to him, they’d noted that Ruth had returned the package unopened. At the time, he’d been deeply frustrated, but the fact she’d never opened the jewelry meant he would have the pleasure of seeing her expression when he gave them to her this evening.

He made a mental note to stop by Garrard’s later this afternoon to arrange for a matching necklace. Pulling his watch out of his pocket, he flipped the timepiece open. Today was his regular midday visit to Caring Hearts. It had become a habit of his to read to the younger children after lunch before Lily and one of the maids put them to bed for their early afternoon nap. As a child, his governess had read to him every night. It had instilled a love of reading in him, and he hoped to foster a similar love in the children who lived at the home.

A quiet knock on the office door interrupted his thoughts as Carstairs entered the room with a breakfast tray. The butler placed the tray on the desk then retreated as quietly as he’d entered. Garrick shoved his watch back into his vest pocket and poured himself a cup of coffee. He reached for the folded paper tucked under the plate of toast and fresh fruit and frowned.

Carstairs had arranged the paper so that the Society page was blatantly front and center. With a scowl, he quickly skimmed the gossip column then stiffened as the initials L.S. and L.R. caught his eye.

He drew in a sharp breath at the last sentence. Christ almighty. As sensitive as Ruth was about her age, the minute she read this malicious gossip she’d be devastated. And this anecdote was particularly vicious in reference to the differences in their ages. Without a second thought, he leaped to his feet and jammed the jeweler’s box into the inside pocket of his coat.

If he was lucky, she might not be awake yet. He uttered a dark expletive and bolted toward the door. That was wishful thinking on his part. The best he could hope for was that she’d not yet seen this morning’s London
Times
. If she read that piece before he arrived, all bets were off as to whether or not she’d allow Simmons to let him through her front door.

Ruth awoke to a raw male scent embedded in her pillows. It was Garrick’s, and it brought a smile to her lips. Her eyes still closed, she reached out for him, but the space where he should have been was empty. Disappointment crested through her as she raised herself up to rest on her elbows and looked around the bedroom. The first thing she noticed was that his coat was no longer draped over the back of the fireside chair. The rest of his clothes that had been scattered on the floor were gone as well. He’d left without saying good-bye. She didn’t know why she’d expected to wake up in his arms, but she had. Her gaze fell on the folded parchment standing up on the table beside her bed. The strong handwriting on the note made her slide quickly across the mattress to snatch the missive off the nightstand. It was a brief note, and she smiled at his shy, almost awkward message.

She fell backward into her pillows with the note clutched to her breast. Slowly she rolled over to bury her face in the pillow Garrick had used last night. The rich spicy smell of him permeated the bed, and her mind flitted back to the pleasure she’d found in his arms. Despite his inexperience, he’d been an amazingly quick study.

The second time he’d made love to her, he’d already learned how to control his own release until he secured her climax. Sweet heaven, but the man had been incredibly thick and hard inside her. When she’d shattered in his arms that first time, she couldn’t have imagined a more exquisite moment. But she’d been wrong.

With the innate skill of a born seducer, he’d pulled her toward another precipice. In a joint release of pleasure, they’d climaxed together. The memory of how he’d throbbed inside her flooded back to make her body ache with a need to feel him inside her again. It had been a wonderful experience, and the only thing she could have wished for was to see his face at the moment of his release.

She sighed. Although Garrick had trusted her with one of his secrets, there were deeper layers to be explored. It would take time for her to gain his trust until he was willing to reveal himself further. Whatever Beresford had done to him, it was obvious Garrick didn’t want her to see or touch him below his waist.

When she’d reached for his cock, his rejection of her touch had been so swift it had startled her, and the fear in his voice had touched her deeply. She had wanted to kill Beresford at that precise moment. Kill the bastard for the torment he’d caused Garrick. But in a blink of an eye, Garrick’s touch had pulled her back to him and the delicious way her body responded to his.

With every touch, he’d made her feel desirable, wanton, and young again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this alive, euphoric almost. It was as if she were fifteen years younger. It was a glorious feeling, and she loved it. Loved the way he made her feel both physically and emotionally. It was a heady experience.

A quiet knock sounded on the door before it opened and Dolores entered with a breakfast tray. The maid eyed her warily, but she was too happy to berate her friend. Thanks to Dolores, she’d experienced a night unlike any she’d had in a very long time.

“So are you going to fire me?” There was just a trace of smug contentment in the maid’s voice, but Ruth didn’t care.

“No.”

“Good. I knew it was the right thing to do to let his lordship into the house. After the bleak mood you’ve been in for the past three weeks, I’m happy to see you smiling.”

“I’ve not been that bad,” she protested.

Dolores arched her eyebrow at her in disbelief before she set the breakfast tray on the table in front of the hearth. In a limber move for a woman her size, the maid retrieved Ruth’s robe from the floor where it had fallen the night before.

Ruth scooted out of bed and accepted the silk garment the maid handed her. The robe brushed softly against her skin, reminding her of the warmth of Garrick’s breath on her cheek as she’d fallen asleep last night. The robe’s belt tied around her waist, she reached for the glass of juice on the tray.

“Do you know what time Lord Stratfield left this morning?”

“Simmons said he hailed a cabbie for his lordship around seven this morning,” Dolores said as she bustled her way into the bathroom to run Ruth’s bath.

Her heart skipped erratically at her friend’s comment. So Garrick hadn’t left immediately after she’d fallen asleep. The realization sent happiness spiraling through her. Inside, a small voice of warning tried to obliterate the blissful feeling, but it failed. She knew it was a mistake to take pleasure in the notion that he’d been unwilling to leave her, but she couldn’t help herself.

Ruth glanced at the mantel clock. Nine thirty. There would barely be time to enjoy her breakfast and dress before she needed to leave. Yesterday she’d arranged to visit the Caring Hearts orphanage to speak with Lady Lynmouth about making their current partnership a permanent one. Deep inside she knew her motives for the visit had not been completely selfless.

She knew she’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of Garrick or at least have word of him from his sister. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, his continuous attempts to see her over the past three weeks had begun to wear her down. It was why she’d been unable to resist listening to his heartfelt explanation last night. She took a small bite of toast and frowned as she stared down at the tray.

“Dolores, where is the morning paper?” The question was met with an indistinguishable reply. “What?”

“I said you don’t have time to read the paper.” The older woman avoided her gaze as she emerged from the bathroom.

“I’m not that short on time.” Ruth frowned at the stubborn look crossing the maid’s face. “You’re hiding something from me. What is it?”

“It’s nothing.” Dolores sniffed with annoyance. “Come along now. You need to be getting your bath or you’ll be late for your appointment.”

“The paper, if you please, Dolores.” She stretched out her hand in a silent demand. With great reluctance, the maid pulled the paper from a deep pocket in her skirt.

“Don’t you pay them no mind, my lady.”

Her friend’s words sent tension skimming along every one of her nerve endings as she accepted the London
Times
. With trepidation she opened the paper to the Society column. Her gaze scanned the article until she saw Garrick’s initials combined with hers.

A shudder raced through her as she read the last sentence of the paragraph. Oh God,
advancing years
; she reached for the back of the nearby chair as she swayed on her feet. Behind her, Dolores clucked with concern and touched Ruth’s arm. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly as she shrugged off her friend’s touch.

“Leave me, Dolores.” It was a quiet order her friend disobeyed.

“Don’t let it upset you, my lady. It’s all—”

“Go, Dolores,” she bit out coldly. “Now.”

She closed her eyes in an effort to control the nausea rolling over her with increasing strength. Why hadn’t she listened to the warning bells in her head when Garrick had first suggested they be friends? And last night . . . dear lord . . . last night had been a mistake of the worst kind. She shuddered.