Scandal (10 page)

“I suspect there is,” she said. “You’re gentry through and through. Do you have a title?”

Chapter Eleven

“A title?” Rein shot out, her words shocking him. “Good lord, what gave you that idea?”

“You’ve a mark on your pinkie where a ring used to be. Signet ring?”

Why, that clever puss. “Heirloom,” he said, the answer not a lie; his signet ring
was
an heirloom. “I removed it so that it would not get stolen during my time in St. Giles.”

“So your memory has returned?” she asked.

“It has.”

“You never had a problem with your memory, did you?”

Unbelievably clever. And for a moment, Rein felt a sensation he hadn’t felt in a great many years: a sensation of being inferior. She was far too clever by half and it made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

Still, he found himself answering, “I did not,” because for some odd reason, he disliked all the lies.

“Are you really in St. Giles because of a wager?”

“Actually, ’tis more of a challenge.”

“One you mean to win,” she said.

“One I mean to win,” he answered with a determination he felt all the way to his soul.

“Are you that desperate for coin?”

“Actually, I am quite wealthy,” which was true, for now.

“Then why did you put your life in danger?”

“Perhaps because I am an utter fool.”

She blinked. Actually, it was a bit of a flutter. Blink. Blink-blink-blink. He’d begun to realize those flutters were a signal that her puzzled mind pondered a particular problem.

“You are far from a fool,” she said.

Which just went to show how little she knew of him. And yet… It was her cleverness that attracted him, having struggled to learn things his entire life. She fascinated him with her quick mind. She was clever
and
very beautiful, especially with her hair framing her face beneath that ridiculously tattered cloak she wore.

Beautiful. Intelligent.
His.
Yes, he wanted her.

“A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees—or woman, as the case may be.”

“Yes, but even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise,” she shot back.

He almost smiled. He’d given her the one quote he’d ever taken the time to memorize.
Days
to memorize, quite honestly, his mind unable to retain things for longer than a few hours. It was a fundamental flaw of his that he accepted as the way things were.

“You likely know far more quotes than I,” he said.

“Why do you say it in that way?”

“What way?”

“As if you truly believe yourself foolish?”

“I am a fool.”

“Wherever did you come up with that notion?”

“My father.”

“Your father?”

“I was too slow for him, you see. Not bright enough.” He stiffened his spine a bit, jutted out his lower jaw and did a tight-lipped imitation of his sire. “ ‘Work harder, young man. There would be no need for discipline if you tried harder.’ ” He relaxed then, pasting a small, sarcastic smile on his face. “So I tried to apply myself, only most of the time it didn’t work. Not all of us are brilliant, you see.”

“Discipline?” she asked, her astute mind catching on the one word Rein most wanted to forget.

“I was…” He searched for an appropriate word. “Encouraged to work harder.”

“Beaten,” she said.

The next smile he gave her was meant to be complimentary, meant to show her that he accepted his faults and his inability to be bright. Only it must not have worked for she said, “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged, then told her something he hadn’t told another soul. “I thought things would be better at university, only it was almost ironic how much worse they became. If I thought my father was horrid, it was nothing compared to being pounced upon by three older boys determined to pick on the class dunce.”

“What about your professors?”

“They noticed the cuts and bruises, certainly, but I was warned not to tell, and god help me, I feared the repercussions if I did. And so I held my tongue, Anna. One year, two, three. I grew older, wiser, learned to avoid them, most of the time, and when once I chanced to mention to my father that some of the older boys were… unkind, he laughed in my face. Said the experience would toughen me up, make me a better man.”

“Awful, hateful man.”

Her championing him filled him with odd warmth. “In the end I took matters into my own hands. I decided if my father would not allow me to come home, I should get myself sent home.” His smile turned wry. “I began to pull pranks. Spectacular pranks, though I dragged my cousin into the whole lot. Still, it worked. Rather well, I might add.” He smiled. “So you see, you have before you a man who has struggled his entire life to have half the intelligence you have in your pinkie.”

“And yet you, like me, have survived,” she said, shaking her head, the starlight seeming to shine from her eyes. “We are survivors, you and I, despite what the world has thrown at us.”

He chose that moment to do what he’d been longing to do half the night. Indeed, it was an urge he could no longer ignore. He gently and sweetly kissed her.

“Rein,” she gasped as she drew back a bit, her eyes nearly as golden as the flame that flicked inside the lantern.

Slowly, he lifted a hand to her hood, his hands shaking with the motion of the hack, or was it desire? He didn’t know, just tipped the fabric back, leaned forward and turned his attention to the second thing he’d wanted to do to her. He kissed the side of her neck, sucking there, lightly, possessively claiming her skin.

“Stop,” she groaned.

“I can’t,” he said between kisses and nips. And then he did the third thing he’d been longing to do to her. He nipped at the shell of her ear, those little pink ears that always peeked out at him from beneath her hat.

“Rein,” she said softly, almost in wonder.

He did a fourth thing then. He pulled back, reached up and cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs exploring the soft, plump fullness of her lips. Her eyes closed as he ran his fingers along the damp opening, her reaction as if he’d touched her far more intimately. He knew then that if he told the coachman to pull off, if he asked the man to leave them be for a bit, he could likely seduce her. But he didn’t. Indeed, for some reason he slowly, reluctantly, let her go, her eyes opening as he released her. Those eyes were as dark as the pools of water that lay in puddles on the road.

“Rein, I—” she dropped into silence for a moment. “I liked that,” she said with an honesty that made his manhood, already painfully uncomfortable in his breeches, flex into a more throbbing hardness. “I would like to do that again.”

He almost smiled, the words so unexpected he wanted to applaud her for her honesty.

The chance for more conversation came to an end when they arrived at her tenement. “Grandfather might not be right in the head, and I don’t want him to think—”

“Go,” he said, silently urging her to leave before he did something he might later regret.

Such as what?

Taking her. Making love to her in a way that he knew would change her forever. Wanting to brand himself upon her. The urge to do it had his hands clenching the fabric of his breeches. But he didn’t move because in that moment, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: honor.

The hackney driver opened her door then. “Out you go, love,” Rein said.

She slipped out of his arms as if she didn’t trust herself to stay. Rein settled back into the carriage squabs, his whole body wanting to turn in her direction, to go after her, to slake his thirst for her in a way that would ease the pounding in his blood. He watched her look both ways before stepping onto the walkway. Her hood slipped from her head as she all but ran toward her building.

“Go, little Anna,” he said, his manhood aching in his breeches as he stared at the spot that she’d been. “Run from the big, bad wolf.”

She wanted him. Anna all but ran up the steps of her tenement, the look on Rein’s face as she’d left him one she would never forget.

He wanted her.

She took the steps two at a time now, ran as if she’d never see the light of day should she not make it to the top alone, without Rein. Ran and then let herself in, pausing only to rest her back against the door.

“That you, Anna?”

She closed her eyes, her legs burning from her climb, her legs shaking from something else, for no matter how she had struggled to make herself sound sophisticated, experienced, aloof, she felt far from that.

“Yes, Grandfather,” Anna said as she removed her cloak and hung it on the peg next to the door.

“Where have you been?” he asked, emerging from his room wearing only his nightshirt, his hair mussed in the back as if he’d been lying down, his knobby, hairy legs almost as white as his shift.

“I told you earlier, Grandfather. Mr. Hemplewilt and I had an errand to run.”

“Hemplewilt?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, praying for strength, as he stood there staring at her blankly. She hated his memory lapses. Hated his mad ramblings. Hated his illness, whatever it was.

“The gentleman what’s livin’ with us.”

“There’s no gentleman living with us. I would never allow such a thing. You are young and unattached. Goodness knows what trouble you might get into.”

Sometimes she had a feeling her grandfather’s mind saw far more than she might think.

“He’ll be coming in behind me in a moment, Grandfather,” she said, ignoring his denials, for she knew from experience that arguing with him would do no good. “Please do not send him away.”

“Who will be coming?” he asked.

She almost closed her eyes, almost leaned her head against the door again. Nights like tonight strained her patience.

“Mr. Hemplewilt will be coming in. I’ll be in my room.”

She thought he might pound her with more confused questions. Instead, in one of his mercurial mood changes he said, “I’ll do as you ask, my dear. Good night.”

Suddenly she felt overwhelmed by it all. Her desire for Rein. The task of sewing sails and then testing them with less than a fortnight to go until the contest. Her grandfather. But she forced her legs to work, forced herself to climb the ladder. She paused at the top to take a breath.

Moans.

She stiffened.

Loud moans.

No. Not tonight. Not this night of all nights.

But there could be no mistaking the rhythmic groans of pleasure that drifted across the street and filtered through her window.

She almost covered her ears. Hell’s bells, there couldn’t be a worse time, not tonight when her lips still felt hot and plump from Rein’s lips pressing against her own. Tonight when just the sound of those moans made her body burn as if Rein touched her still. She grew damp just standing there, telling herself to cover her ears, to go back downstairs, do anything but stand there.

But unlike other nights when she’d been able to ignore and sometimes laugh at the sounds, for the first time in her life Anna found herself wanting to listen to them, to get caught up in them, perhaps even turn and look out her window to see if she could spy on the woman who entertained her customers…

But no.

She went to the window, a rush of excitement dancing along her thighs as she shamelessly looked across the street.

A man lay atop a woman in a bed that had no covers.

Anna’s woman’s mound suddenly tightened to the point of pain. Her body erupted into a brush fire of excitement, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched them mate, a single candle by their bedside illuminating their passion-entwined limbs.

They were mating… doing what she wanted Rein to do to her. Now. Today. This moment.

She flushed with a heat that made her grow wet, that made her stare unblinkingly as the man tipped his head back and pushed in and out of the woman. She wanted Rein to do the same to her. Rein, who she suspected might be a nobleman, Rein, whom she would never have dealings with under normal circumstances. Rein whom she wanted to kiss, to touch, to—

“Anna.”

She cried out, coldness replacing the heat at the shock of her name being softly called from the hole in the floor.

“Anna, I couldn’t stay away.”

She turned.

He had followed her.

Chapter Twelve

Move,
a voice urged Anna as she watched him approach, his whole body in shadow as light from below spilled into the room behind him. But she didn’t move. She wanted this man. She wanted him to touch her, to stroke her like she’d seen the man stroking—

“Anna,” he said again, only this time the voice was closer, closer. “Will you let me?”

Move, Anna, move—Grandfather is belowstairs, he might hear you…

But obviously, Grandfather had gone to his bed. He wouldn’t hear them, not if she went and closed the trap.

Rein came up to her. And, yes, she could see him now by the light of the moon, could see into the green eyes turned dark with a sensual promise that made Anna grow warm. Behind her, the woman’s cries grew louder.

“Will you let me touch you like that?” he asked, his voice so low and yet so guttural it was almost a groan. “Will you let me give you pleasure?”

She pulsed at his words, the ache between her legs growing damp with desire. He was near now, so near that when he reached out and touched her arm, she didn’t see him do it. “Will you let me touch you?” he asked, leaning down toward her, and she thought he would kiss her, felt her mouth fill with moisture at the thought, but instead he used his hand to turn her, to make her face the couple on the bed.

“Like that,” he said, coming up behind her. He only touched her in two places, the hand he’d used to turn her coming around to caress her breast. Did she groan? She thought she might have. But when she felt the other place he touched her—that spot between her thighs—when she felt his manhood nestle between the cheeks of her backside as he pressed their two bodies together, she groaned. He moved his other hand up to sweep aside her hair, then kissed her as he returned to stroking her breast, and her woman’s mound.

“Watch them, Anna, watch them as I do to you what he does to her.”

Move,
a voice urged again.
Move. Grandfather might hear.

But then he stroked that place, that wet and heated place that craved his touch. She tipped her head back and moaned softly, her head hitting his shoulder.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he ordered. “Watch them. Watch them mate and learn what pleasure a release can bring to you.”

She didn’t close her eyes. No, she watched the couple on the bed through slitted eyes. His fingers probed deeper. She muffled a moan again.

Don’t let him touch you. Don’t, Anna.

But it was too late for her. She needed whatever this man could give her with a desperation that made her want to moan yet again, needed to forget her life and the dire financial straits she’d found herself in. Forget the rookery. Forget herself.

“Yes,” he said, stroking her, his other hand playing with her nipple. “Let it happen, Anna. Let it come to you.”

Rein,
she silently cried.
Oh, Rein.
God help her, he matched the movement of his hands to the rhythm of the woman’s moans. And with each stroke of those fingers, she wanted more from him. She wanted him to touch her deeper, wanted to turn her head and kiss him in a way she’d never kissed a man before, wanted to turn around and give him full access to… something.

So she did turn. Heaven help her, she couldn’t stop herself from pushing against him, her legs slightly spread as she let him lift her skirts, let him find her again, begged him to kiss her with breathy sighs that echoed the rhythm of his hands.

He bent his head

Yes,
her mind cried.
Kiss me. Touch me. Tongue me in the same way your hand probes me.

He must have sensed her need for his tongue entering her mouth in the exact way she’d craved. Their juices blended as he sucked on her in a way that made her want to cry out in pleasure. Behind her lids flashes of light began to spark and sputter. Like the ignited end of a fuse she grew closer and closer to the something which she sought. Time didn’t stop, but her world became Rein’s, and it was a world governed by the desire to fulfill herself, to let herself float away and be free, to fly…

It happened.

She threw her head back, moisture cooling her lips as she cried out, trying to muffle it but unable to do so.

“Yes,” she heard him say. “Take it, Anna. Take your pleasure.”

And she did, only it wasn’t pleasure—it was more than pleasure. This was a soul-searing joy that made everything that had come before pale by comparison.

“Anna,” her grandfather called from below. “Anna, is that you?”

No. Not now.

“Anna?” her grandfather called again.

The room came into focus. No, Rein came into focus, his eyes staring down at her with enough intensity to make her still.

“Do not move,” he ordered.

But she had to move. Her grandfather might take it into his head to investigate. “He might come up here.”

“He won’t,” Rein contradicted, his hands holding her shoulders. A smell wafted on a heated current of air—a smell both familiar and unfamiliar, a smell that came to her from his fingers. Her smell. Her woman’s essence.

“I want you, Anna. Now. This moment. God help me, I want to push you up against this wall and claim you.”

“We can’t,” she said, already pulling back, her legs feeling as weak as a newborn’s. “Not with my grandfather—”

“We can,” he contradicted.

But, no, for with the passing of her pleasure came an understanding so clear, it was like the pinpoint of a candle’s light when seen through a tiny hole. Letting this man have her, acting upon the desires they both shared, might bring her gratification, but it would also bring her a child. What she felt for him, what she wanted of him, could never be slaked in one mating. She’d want it again. And again and again. A month, maybe less, and she’d be swelling with a bairn.

She stepped sideways, with a part of her feeling surprised and, yes, disappointed when he let her go.

“I… can’t.”

“Damn it, Anna, don’t leave me like this.”

“I have no choice, Rein. You would see that if you weren’t so anxious to have me.”

“You do have a choice. I shall ensure that you—”

“Anna?” came her grandfather’s voice again, closer this time.

“Stay here,” she ordered Rein, “do not follow me down. You may sleep up here tonight. Best to keep you out of sight in any event, for my grandfather has forgotten your existence.” And before he could say another word, she turned away, the place between her legs slick with her passion.

“Anna, this is not over.”

No, it wasn’t. She knew that. This was only a temporary reprieve. Sooner or later they would have to sort out where their passions would take them. Anna just didn’t want it to be now.

But if she thought getting to sleep that night would be easy, she should have known better. She had become aware. And so when she got her grandfather resettled into his bed, she didn’t immediately crawl onto the mat before the fire. Rein was up there. Waiting for her. Listening to see when her grandfather had gone to sleep. Would he come to her then? Would he push the issue? Did she want him to?

Her breasts still hung swollen with desire, waiting for his touch. She felt the urge to touch herself, to give herself pleasure, an urge she’d never felt before meeting Rein. Except she wanted Rein to touch her, not her own fingers. Wanted him to come to her now, this moment—to kiss her, to bring her to a throbbing peak.

She removed her dress, her body so sensitized, she drew each brush of the fabric out, letting it caress her slowly, building a desire she warned herself not to slake.

If he came down, would Rein be surprised to find her in nothing but a chemise? Would he like that she’d undressed for him? Should she have stayed dressed in the event he
did
come to her?

She lay down on the mat before the fire, her ears straining, listening, hoping they’d hear the sound of him coming to her.

No, not hoping, dreading. No, hoping.

But he never came. Nor did he stir.

Just a complete and utter silence came from above her. Well, as silent as it could get in a building shared by six families. A mouse squeaked from behind the walls. A child cried out from belowstairs, someone dropped something heavy.

But he never came.

She woke the next morning feeling out of sorts, muddle-headed and, yes, just a touch piqued, and why that should be when she’d told him to keep his distance, she couldn’t fathom. But with dawn came the admission, too, that she’d done the right thing. Her body had cooled now, her blood not as thick as it’d swirled last night. So as she grabbed the gray dress she’d washed the evening before and left hanging by the fire, she told herself she should be grateful he’d been honorable enough to have kept his distance.

Only she wasn’t grateful, she was… disappointed.

“Ach, nice of you to join me this morn,” Molly said as Anna stepped from her building a few moments later, warm gruel in her belly, and her cloak pulled well over her face.

“Stow it, Molly. I’m tired and I’ll not welcome your skulduggery.”

“I’ll wager
that
has something to do with a certain Mr. Hemplewilt.”

Anna kept quiet.

“Did you diddle him?”

She refused to answer.

“Ach, you did, didn’t you?”

Anna stepped around her friend, heading down the alley and to her barrow kept in the basement below. She passed Molly’s orange-laden basket as she walked by, the twang of citrus overtaking the smell of the nearby gutter.

“Don’t think walking away from me will help. He kissed you, didn’t he?”

… his tongue in her mouth, matching the rhythm of his hand…

She opened eyes she hadn’t even known she’d shut. She’d stopped before the small door that angled out from the side of the building, the wood water-stained from a leaking drainpipe above, the gray streaks looking as dismal as Anna felt.

“So it’s finally happened?” Molly asked. “You’ve finally gone and given yourself to a man.”

“Molly, we didn’t lie together,” she said as she fiddled with the key she pulled from her pocket.

“No, but he touched you well enough, I can see that.”

Anna told herself not to react, but she could be honest with Molly. And truth be told, she wanted to talk about it, no,
needed
to talk about it.

She turned back to her friend. “He touched me.”

“Did he bring you pleasure?”

She thought about how to answer, then decided on the truth. “More than I ever thought possible.”

“Oh, there’ll be more,” Molly said with a light in her blue eyes. “Just wait until he gets to the
real
joining.”

Anna shook her head, tipping her chin down so Molly couldn’t see her beneath the brim of her straw hat. “Molly, I can’t let that happen.” She met her friend’s gaze again. “For too many years I’ve watched what happens when a woman bears a child. And I’ll not be responsible for one more mouth to feed here in St. Giles. Not now, not ever.”

“Aye, but Polly the tart what lives below me says there are ways to keep yourself free from the childbed—”

“Polly has three babes of her own.”

“Yes, but none since she started having her customers wear pigskin—”

“Molly, please.” She held up a hand, because if Molly told her of a way to have Rein and not get with child, she might do it. Indeed, she suddenly admitted that what she feared almost more than a child growing in her belly were the feelings growing inside of her.

And from up on high, Rein stared at the coral-pink colors of a dawn sky, waiting for Anna to reemerge from the alley with her friend next to her.

“Devil take it.” One would think a night spent inside a freezing cold room would cool a man’s ardor.

Only it hadn’t, he admitted as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Staying away from her had been hell. He’d thought he could do it, had told himself to do the honorable thing and stay away. Only when had he suddenly turned honorable? It was a badge of honor in his family—well, most of his family—to seduce innocents, and yet suddenly he found himself wanting to live up to the word
noble
in
nobleman.

And then he saw her, Anna’s head bowed as she emerged from the side of the building with her barrow out in front of her and her friend in tow. Rein straightened. The two women merged into the pedestrian traffic like clots of cream through a spout.

Gone. She’d left for the day.

He slumped back, his eyes narrowing as he thought of the feelings she evoked in him, wondering if he could keep himself away from her, wondering what it mattered if he did not.

“It must be hard to keep who you are to yourself.”

He turned, too shocked for a moment to do anything more than say, “Who the
devil
are you?” before realizing the man might be a threat.

“Freddie Stills, at your service,” said the broad-shouldered man. He tipped his hat, exposing a cap of red hair. He was big, huge even, Rein would guess almost as tall as himself, though Rein had never aspired to have muscles the size of beef legs. Obviously, this gentleman did.

“Mr. Stills?” Rein asked.

“I’ve been retained by Mr. Lassiter to keep watch on you.”

Of course, Rein thought. He’d wondered if his uncle’s solicitor might do such a thing.

“You’ve done well for yourself,
Mr. Hemplewilt
.” He smirked a bit at the assumed name.

“How the blazes did you learn the name I’d given?”

“Your landlady’s friend, Molly, is a talkative lass.”

“I see,” Rein said, surprised to learn that he’d already been checked up on.

Mr. Stills moved to the edge of the roof. “I’ll have to admit, I never expected you to last this long.” He looked down. Rein knew what he would see: the tops of carriages that rolled by, spotted with dirt and water stains. A rut that lay on the right side of the road, one that carts always seemed to find with a thunk loud enough to be heard on the roof.

“Nice view.”

“It’s tolerable,” Rein admitted. “How the blazes did you get up here?”

“The bloke what you’re living with let me in.” The man glanced over at him. “A bit crackers, ain’t he?”

“A bit,” Rein admitted, wondering where this was all going and why a man who was very obviously a Runner judging by his scarlet waistcoat had tipped his hand if he’d been paid to catch him cheating. Truth be told, he’d almost admitted to Anna who he was last night. He’d wanted to convince her that she’d be well taken care of once they became lovers. Only he couldn’t tell her that, nor did he truly want to, because the devil of it was, he’d never bedded a woman without her knowing of his wealth and position. Suddenly it became vastly important to him that Anna want to be with him because of
him,
not his title.