When Marrying a Scoundrel (25 page)

He kissed her instead, greedily and without finesse, with desperation eating at his soul. She kissed him back, seeming to know exactly what he needed, and as his tongue invaded the sweet recesses of her mouth, his fingers dropped to the buttons up the front of her day costume. He wanted to rip them open, but he didn’t. He tortured himself by unfastening each and every one. Once again, Sadie’s hands went to his cravat.

They undressed each other quickly, without the tease of slow seduction. Neither of them was interested in taking things slow. They kissed and tore at stubborn garments, tossing and kicking them around the room until finally both of them were naked and practically vibrating with the depth of their mutual need.

Somehow, Sadie remembered to turn off the flow of water into the tub just before it climbed too high. The bath could wait. Having her couldn’t. As soon as she straightened from the tub, Jack grabbed her about the waist and pushed her back against the wall. He could have taken her as she bent over the tub, but he wanted to see her face—needed to see her face.

As tall as she was, she was willowy, and when he
cupped the backs of her thighs, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her feet, bringing them up so that she wrapped those long legs around his waist.

This new shift in height put her breasts on level with his mouth and he sucked on her nipples as he guided his hard, aching cock to the already damp notch between her thighs. Above him, Sadie arched and he held her about the waist with his other arm as he found the correct angle and shoved himself inside her.

She was wrapped around him like ivy, meeting every fraught thrust with hot, wet acceptance. Jack knew, without asking, that she understood what he felt, and that she would take whatever he gave. They never had the chance to grieve together, and this frantic coupling was the only way he could think to connect with her.

Neither of them lasted long. Emotional need whisked their arousal to new heights and they ground and thrust against one another with the kind of abandon that was sure to leave them both bruised and tender later.

When climax struck, it took with it all the pain and numbness of the last twelve hours—of the last ten years—and destroyed it, at least temporarily. He came with great, racking spasms that threatened to buckle his knees, but he managed to remain upright, Sadie still clinging to him as her own cries rang in his ears.

Finally, he slipped from inside her and she lowered her feet to the floor. Much of the emptiness returned, filling him again with guilt’s numb embrace. Sadie took his hand and led him to the tub. She climbed in with him, lowering them both into the still hot water.

“Lie back” she instructed, wetting a cloth. “Close your eyes.” He did as she commanded, and she placed the cloth over his face, pressing it against his jaw. Jack sighed. The heat felt good.

A few moments later, when the cloth had cooled, Sadie removed it and brushed shaving soap over his beard. She shaved him slowly and carefully, but with the skill of a valet, wiping the removed whiskers and soap onto the cloth so they didn’t pollute their bath. He remembered how, years ago, she had loved to shave him, as though it were a treat for her whenever he agreed to it. Now, having finished the task, she took another cloth and rinsed away the soap residue. Then she soaped the cloth and began to bathe him.

“Sadie,” he murmured, “you don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” She ran the cloth over his chest. “I want to. Let me.”

He did. And when she had him clean and smelling of sandalwood and bay rum, he also let her touch him. Lying back against the warmed porcelain, he allowed her long, gentle fingers to caress him into a state of mind that was almost peaceful, almost void of turmoil. Then her hand reached down beneath the water and wrapped around his cock, already half-mast from her touch.

“Sadie…” What was he going to say? What could he possibly say? No? That would be a lie. That he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do this again? That would be a lie as well. He wanted her, and while he didn’t want her to feel like it was her duty or something equally as
foolish, he wanted to be inside her again. The rapid swelling of his prick was proof of that.

She straddled him and lowered herself onto him, inch by delicious inch. All the while she kept her gaze locked with his. There was such tenderness and caring in her faerie eyes, mixed with desire and want, and a multitude of other things he was scared to even try to decipher.

She sighed softly as he filled her completely; sat for a moment on his thighs before beginning to move. Water sloshed gently against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill over, but not quite.

Sadie’s hands slid up his chest, up his neck to cup his face and stroke his hair. She planted little kisses on his face as she slowly rode him, rubbed his scalp, and caressed the lobe and ridge of his ear. “Let me take it all away,” she whispered, a pleading edge he’d never heard in her voice before.

Jack’s hands slid over her thighs and hips, up to splay across her back, holding her close. He didn’t try to steal the rhythm of their bodies, but rather allowed her to lead, feeling her warmth seep into him with every stroke. He needed to make her feel good. He needed to hear her come again. Maybe he’d find the forgiveness he sought in her climax.

There was no quickening of pace, no frantic thrusting this time. Just the slow, gentle lapping of water as they moved together, gazing into each other’s eyes when they weren’t kissing a section of the other’s exposed skin.

He felt the tremors in her thighs and knew she was
going to come soon, heard her increasing sighs and moans. He was barely holding on, waiting for her.

“Sweet Jack,” she murmured, brushing her lips across his forehead. “I never should have let you go.” She shuddered then, and made a low keening noise as she came.

Jack didn’t have time to respond, didn’t have time to be shocked. Her words and climax sent his own release rushing over him and he couldn’t do anything but groan out loud as orgasm claimed him. It was so strong, so emotionally raw it robbed him of breath as well as reason, and when sense began to return, he was ashamed to realize that tears were beginning spill down his cheeks. His only consolation was the fact that Sadie was weeping as well.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as though she was all that was left of his sanity. She held him as well, burying her face in his shoulder.

They stayed like that for quite some time. The tears ebbed and gave way to sniffs and little kisses, as well as to the occasional embarrassed apology—which both of them tried to make but was sushed by the other. Then they stopped talking and kissed some more, holding each other until the water became too cool to stay in any longer. Only then did they climb out of the tub and dry off.

“It happened just like you predicted,” Jack said later as they lay together on the bed, Sadie draped over him, her head on his shoulder. It seemed he had reached absolution through sex, as just a few minutes earlier they’d
worshiped each other with their mouths and he was now lying peaceful and quiet with his arms around her.

She raised her face. “I know.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her as tight as he dared. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. More than you’ll ever know.”

She smiled, so very sweetly, blinking back tears. “I
do
know. Now stop torturing yourself and get some sleep.”

He was so very tired—bone tired. Maybe now he could finally rest. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

But even as his eyes drifted shut, he knew she was lying.

S
adie didn’t go far. While Jack slept she dressed and crept downstairs to deal with servants and anyone who might come to call.

She found the late earl’s secretary, Mr. Brown, red-eyed and lost-looking, in the old man’s study. He sat in front of the desk, hands hanging between his knees as he stared at the carpet.

“Hello,” Sadie said. “Mr. Brown, correct?”

The man looked up, frowning slightly. “Do I know you?”

She smiled. “We met years ago. I’m a friend of the new earl. Mrs. Moon.”

He nodded, accepting the information with the disinterestedness of grief. “Do you know if Mr. Walters has been here yet?” When she tilted her head in question, he added, “His lordship’s solicitor.”

“Lord Garret hasn’t seen him.” He went back to staring at the carpet. Poor thing looked as lost as a child. “Can I get you anything? A cup of tea, perhaps?”

Mr. Brown nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

She turned to leave. “I’ll have the housekeeper send it up directly.”

“Oh,” Mr. Brown said, “please don’t bother her.”

Bemused, Sadie faced him once more. “I’m sure she won’t mind.” Of course she couldn’t be sure of that at all, but the household still had to run, despite the tragedy.

The man looked uncomfortable. “She’s taking the news very badly. Very badly indeed.”

Obviously the old man’s servants thought better of him than his own family, because not even Jack was so overcome that he couldn’t function. In fact, if it weren’t for him finding out about the baby, he probably would have gone to that meeting Lord Trystan attended in his stead.

She had wanted to dig a hole and bury herself in it when he told her he knew about the carpet. And when he cried with her…well, it was like someone opened a door and showed her everything she’d missed out on by allowing him to leave her ten years ago. Astoundingly, Jack forgave her for it. They forgave each other.

“I appreciate that the woman is overwrought, but there is a household to be run, nevertheless.”

Mr. Brown flushed a deep rose. “Her relationship with the master was more…
intimate
than most, my lady.”

Sadie was too shocked to correct his form of address. Intimate? The old man and his
housekeeper
?

Why that hypocritical old bastard! Telling Jack that she wasn’t good enough for him when all the while the earl was sleeping with the hired help!

“Had she been with the earl long?” Sadie inquired with just enough innuendo that Mr. Brown could not mistake her meaning.

The man’s flush deepened, which Sadie took as a keen embarrassment over having to discuss such matters with a woman. Mr. Brown was a proper gentleman. “More than twenty-five years.”

That jerked her brows up. Almost all of Jack’s life. That was longer than most married couples were given together. Certainly the old man had been a widower at that point. Twenty-five years. He’d undoubtedly been loved by the woman if she was that undone by his death.

And he’d never come down off that high horse of his to make an honest woman of her. But perhaps the old man hadn’t been such a hypocrite after all. Recently he’d maintained only that Jack and Sadie shouldn’t be married, not that they couldn’t be lovers.

“I won’t bother her, then.” Sadie curled her lips slightly. “I’ll see to your tea, Mr. Brown.”

She left the study and began searching out the entrance to the kitchen, which she found in a corridor off the great hall, behind the staircase. The maid who had waited on them earlier approached at the same time to tell her that Lord Archer appreciated the hospitality but had taken his leave just a quarter hour earlier. Sadie thanked her, and then asked if she would see to having tea and sandwiches prepared for Mr. Brown.

“Oh—” She stopped the maid with a hand on her arm as another thought occurred to her. “Could you see that a tray is prepared for the housekeeper as well?”

The maid looked surprised—and somewhat touched—by the request. “I will indeed, my lady.”

“I’m not—” But the girl was already descending toward the kitchen and there didn’t seem to be a point to protesting after her that Sadie wasn’t a lady, not in the sense she meant it.

But she could be. All she had to do was take a gamble.

She stood there a moment, beside the grand staircase and looked around at the empty hall. What was there for her to do now? Jack was resting, the servants were looked after. The solicitor had yet to arrive, so there was nothing left for her to do.

A muffled knock on the front door sounded, as though Fate had been listening to her thoughts.

The butler, whose name she’d discovered was Alistair, didn’t seem to be around, so Sadie crossed the marble floor to answer the knock. Perhaps it was the solicitor. Who else would come calling when there was a black wreath upon the door and the earl’s body on ice in the cold room?

She pulled open the door and got her answer. It wasn’t the solicitor.

It was Lady Gosling.

“You don’t have an ounce of shame do you?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “This house is in mourning.”

The lady—beautiful and hard in a rich green walking costume that matched her eyes—arched a fine brow. There was a flicker of something in her eye, however,
that shamed Sadie just a tiny bit. It looked like hurt.

“I wanted to pay my respects to Mr. Fri—To Lord Garret.”

“He’s indisposed.”

“Perhaps, then, I might pay my respects to you?”

The question was a bit of a shocker, truth be told. Sadie shrugged and stood back from the doorway so the woman might enter. What did it say about her that she’d prefer the company of a woman she didn’t much like to being alone?

“The household is in a bit of a fuddle,” she informed her guest as she swept inside in a jasmine-scented breeze. “I cannot promise you any kind of refreshment.”

“The former earl was Irish, was he not?”

Sadie frowned, unsure of what that had to do with anything. “As is the new earl.”

Lady Gosling smiled. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, it wasn’t meant to be an insult. Am I correct in assuming that therefore there must be whiskey in the house?”

“Of course.”

“That will do. Lead on, my good woman.”

Sadie did just that, forced to realize that while she didn’t want to like Lady Gosling, she sort of did. She didn’t trust her any further than she could throw her, but she had a certain charm and strength Sadie had to admire. The woman truly didn’t seem to care what other people thought,
seem
being the operative word.

Sadie took her to the library, where she knew for certain there were strong spirits in the cupboard. She
busied herself pouring a glass for each of them and tried to ignore Lady Gosling gazing around the library like a clerk from Christie’s doing an appraisal.

“Here,” she said, shoving one of the sturdy glasses at the other woman as she moved to seat herself in one of the chairs.

“My thanks.” The lady took the whiskey and dropped onto the sofa in a very ‘un’ lady-like heap. She made a face. “I bloody hate corsets sometimes, don’t you? Difficult to get comfortable with a length of whalebone digging into your side.”

Sadie’s eyebrows rose as her eyes widened. Here was a peek not at Lady Gosling, but at Theone Fielding, a.k.a Theone Divine, actress. “Yes, it is.” The woman seemed to be trying her damnedest to get comfortable, however.

Lady Gosling glanced around the room once again. “It’s a lovely house. Have you taken over as lady of it yet?”

“No, and I’ve no intention.” Why did she sound so affronted? It was a reasonable question given what the woman knew of her connection to Jack. Yet, it seemed so gauche to be thinking of taking over when the household had just lost its lord and master.

Obviously Lady Gosling didn’t share her thinking. “Why ever not? The old earl’s dead. No family to protest. Good lord, girl! You could be a countess!” And since that trumped a baroness, the lady was suitably stumped.

“Until a few weeks ago I hadn’t seen my…Lord Garret in more than ten years. It wouldn’t be wise for
either of us to put ourselves in a situation from which there is little escape.”

“I beg to differ. You’d be a
countess
. Just in case you’re not aware of how the whole peerage game works, that would be a good thing.”

Sadie scowled at her. “I’m aware of how the peerage works. Marrying into it has done you a world of good, hasn’t it?”

Lady Gosling paused as she lifted her glass. She gave Sadie a droll smile. “Nicely played, my dear. But while I plot to change my current predicament, I wouldn’t give it up if my only option was a return to Covent Garden.”

“That’s your choice, but I’m not about to do anything that might adversely affect not only me, but Lord Garret as well.” God, it was bizarre referring to Jack by that title! “I’d rather continue on as I have been these past years.”

Was that a sneer? “For a woman possessed of such remarkable insight you are perhaps the most stupid female I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Lady Gosling.”

“Of course not. Forgive me,
my lady
. I cannot imagine being given the chance to love once let alone twice. Obviously I know not of what I speak.”

Mockery aside, the woman had a point.

“It’s not that simple,” she protested.

Lady Gosling’s smile actually turned sympathetic. “How often we say that when it really is that simple.” She
drained the rest of her whiskey. “So, I’ve appeased my conscience with a visit and now I must be on my way.”

Being in the woman’s company was like being in the middle of some sort of maelstrom, ducking flying debris. Sadie felt constantly off balance. “All right. Thank you for stopping by.”

The lady flashed her teeth and winked. “You should really work on your false sincerity. I could teach you, if you like.”

Sadie refused—politely—and rose to see the lady out. She didn’t trust her not to stuff a vase or painting under her skirts.

“Give my regards to his lordship, will you?” Lady Gosling requested at the door.

Sadie nodded. “Of course. Thank you for coming by.”

The woman brightened. “Very good! I almost believed that. Now, don’t roll your eyes, that ruins it.”

“Good day, Lady Gosling.” Sadie reached around her to open the door. “I’ll tell Lord Garret you called.”

Suddenly, a firm hand came down upon Sadie’s arm, and she lifted her gaze to see Lady Gosling watching her most intently.

“Madam, you’ve given me plenty of good advice in our short acquaintance and your predictions always do right by me, so allow me to give you a prediction of my own. I once told you that all actions have a cost, we simply must decide if they are worth paying. If you do not act in the best interest of your own happiness you will regret—and pay for it—for the rest of your life.”

Sadie opened her mouth to utter what she was certain
would be a witty retort, but the lady cut her off with, “You don’t want to end up like me, do you?”

Sadie shut her mouth, and Lady Gosling smiled tightly. “I didn’t think so. Good day, Lady Garret. I hope the next time we meet I’m the one with the black wreath upon my door.”

And then she was gone. In your face one moment and then whisked away like the scandal she was.

Sadie closed the door behind her and returned to the library. She needed another glass of whiskey.

It was late afternoon when Sadie woke Jack to tell him that the family solicitor was downstairs in the drawing room.

Groggily, Jack threw back the quilt and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Thank God Trystan had brought him fresh clothes.

“I’ll have Cook make coffee and a plate of biscuits,” Sadie informed him as she handed him his clothes. “Do you…do you want me to meet him with you?”

“Yes. Please.” It wouldn’t look right and the servants would talk, but he didn’t give a flying frig what the servants or the solicitor thought. He was lord of this house now and Sadie was his wife, whether she wanted to admit it or not. His only comfort was despite her vocal abhorrence to the role, she played it very well.

She watched him closely for a moment, then nodded. “All right.”

When she was gone, Jack changed into the dark gray suit. He finished knotting his cravat as he made his way
down the hall to the drawing room. Sadie hadn’t specified which one, so he assumed it was the first one—the green drawing room.

He was greeted by a tall, lanky man in a brown suit with a thick head of ginger hair and a nose that was impressive even by English standards. “Lord Garret? I’m George Walters. I’m sorry we had to meet under such sad circumstances.”

Jack accepted the man’s handshake and sincerity with a mumbled reply. Then he gestured for the man to be seated. “I hope you’re a coffee man, Mr. Walters because I’ve sent for a pot.”

The solicitor smiled, revealing a slightly crooked tooth. “I am indeed, my lord. Thank you.” He then set about digging through the leather case on the sofa beside him, retrieving a stack of papers and a reading-glass case.

A knock on the door announced Sadie’s arrival with the coffee. In fact it was the housekeeper, Mrs. O’Reily, who carried the tray. The poor woman’s gray hair had started to come loose from its normal tight bun and her bright blue eyes were rimmed with red as though she’d been sobbing long and hard. Sadie followed close behind, eyeing the poor woman with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

Jack introduced both of them to Mr. Walters, uncertain as to whether that was proper procedure or not. It had been a long time since he’d thought of himself as social superior to anyone, or inferior for that matter, and his knowledge of such foolishness had diminished accordingly.

“I thought it a good idea to have Mrs. O’Reily join us,” Sadie informed him, casting him a meaningful glance, which, unfortunately, meant nothing to him. Then she turned to Mr. Walters. “I think you’ll find that she’s mentioned in the will?”

Mr. Walters gaped at her. “I…I cannot say. Normally the will is not read so soon.”

She arched a brow at him. “You have it with you, do you not?”

“Why, yes.”