9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel (8 page)

BOOK: 9781618859594HerDeviantLordPimentel
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He approached slowly, hoping to avoid alarm, when she craned her
neck to spy him. “I was beginning to wonder when you would join me.”

Bastian watched her lashes flicker in the candle light. The minx had
an unmistakable twinkle in her eye when she was plotting. “Tell me, my dear,
what is it that you wish to happen tonight? I can be a very accommodating man.”

The bed sank as he sat behind her, only giving them an inch of space
apart. Bastian slid her nightgown off her shoulder and began kissing down her
neck. With his other hand, he moved to cup her breast.

Cordelia moaned beneath his touch. “I have missed you, Bastian. Do
not keep me waiting. I need you to love me. Hurry…” her voice trailed off as he
changed his approach.

“Stand up, love. I will give you what you need, and then we shall
discuss how the rest of the night will go.”

Lust and love all rolled up into one, and his need to take her soon
was imminent. Bastian rose from the mattress and stood before her. She gazed
upon him, filled with arousal and desperate need. He loosened the ribbons from
her gown, and when they fell, her bodice opened up, exposing the beautiful,
full breasts she possessed.

“They are quite becoming, my dear.” How he desperately wanted to
latch onto them, and begin to tease her, but the whole purpose of tonight was
to begin a new life. He slid his hands beneath the silk fabric, pulling away
the robe, allowing it to fall into a puddle of fabric at her feet. Bare as
Aphrodite the day she was born, Cordelia embodied all things sensual and
sexual.

Without wasting another moment, he drew her into his arms, crushing
his lips to hers. Every swipe of his tongue revelled in her sweet, sweet taste.
Bastian lowered her onto the bed, stretching her arms above her before binding
her to the bedpost with his cravat.

“It has been far too long, my love. Tonight is all for you. May we
never be separated again.”

Straddling her, Bastian removed his shirt and loosened his breeches.
He dropped himself again, this time to tease her senses. Showering her with
kisses, leaving not patch of skin untouched. When his lips reached the contour
of her breasts, he greedily sucked on one nipple while his free hand rolled the
other. All of his life source seemed to have rushed to his cock. Then, her milk
let loose and he drank from her.

Her hips bucked beneath him, as he sucked sharply. When he released
her breasts, he could smell her arousal.

“To hell with it,” he muttered before releasing the confines of his
cock, and in one swift movement, he drove himself into her. Over and over
again, he thrust into Cordelia, who now wept from pleasure. She cried out his
name. How many times, he knew not. All he knew was that to be so fully embedded
in the woman he had lost and loved once again, heaven was the only name for the
well of emotions building up in him.

His muscled tensed, and as Cordelia released, he pulled out,
spilling his seed over the roundness of her belly. Her once lean and slender
body had become even more beautiful after giving birth. With any luck, they
would have many more children.

Bastian rose from the bed, retrieving a wet cloth from the water
basin. He had missed this part the most. The post copulation—the touching,
kissing, and even the talking through what they had experienced and what they
would try differently.

’Twas
a miracle
they had found each other once again. All those months of weeping, of being
foxed out of his wits and thrown out of White’s and Martine’s establishments.
Good heavens, he had made a colossal fool of himself.

Cordelia meant the world to him, and now that Matthew was here, he
would love him all the same. The circumstances of his birth mattered not. The
ton
did not have to know anything at
all, nor did they answer to anyone. Bastian then remembered the note his man of
affairs had forwarded to him earlier while he was at Stoughton Hall.

He released Cordelia’s wrists and rubbed her arms free from the
tension. Then he slowly ran the cloth over her skin, wiping his release from
her body. “Can I get you anything, my dear?”

She shook her head, but then she frowned. “Do you think Matthew will
be all right?”

“Why not, my love? My housekeeper has raised a brood of children
herself. He is in quite capable hands, and I assure you, tomorrow we shall
ensure he has his own room.” Her frown soon turned into a smile. “Here, allow
me to pour you some wine. I think you and I have deserved this moment for a
while.”

Bastian straightened and walked toward the sideboard. Pouring two
drams of wine, he returned to the bed and passed her a glass.
He sat down, pondering how to bring up her husband.
Will she be hurt, or will she be offended?

He was staring
into his goblet, gaping hopelessly into the claret, when Cordelia’s hand
touched his shoulder. “Bastian, what is the matter? We should be rejoicing, not
mourning.”

The earl braced
himself for the worst of reactions. “I have received word on Richard’s
condition. I will show you the letter I received, but first, you must know that
I have no intention of losing you a second time.”

Before she could
say another word, he rose again and retrieved a letter sitting on the mantle of
his fireplace. When he returned, her speculative expression went from
questioning to worry. Her brows furrowed, and when she held out her hand, he
gently passed the paper to her. Instead of hovering while she read the missive,
he walked over to the fire to stoke the embers.

“He wants to see
me, Bastian! Has he gone mad?”

“That is a
possibility. He is, after all, dying. The question is, do we deny a dying man
his final wishes? Or do we allow him to perish without closure and live with
the guilt of never knowing what it is he wishes to speak with you about.”

He turned to watch
the pensive look on her face wash away, paving the path to confusion.
Exasperated and clearly unsure of what to say next, she stood and strode toward
him, only stopping to toss the note into the fire. When her gaze settled upon
his, she pursed her lips and stomped her way back to the bed.

The woman clearly
needed time to consider the request. In the meanwhile, he would certainly
occupy her thoughts in another way. Bastian cleared his throat. “Sweetheart, I
think what you need is a good tumble. Let me demonstrate just how much you have
missed me.”

Now that should get her attention.

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

Cordelia yawned,
stretching her arms out before her. She opened one eye, and then the other,
trying to formulate in whose room she was. Only a moment passed as she bolted
from Bastian’s room, only to discover that he was across the hall, holding
Matthew and reading a book.

’Twas
a most beautiful sight to
behold. Father and son, alone and revelling in their time together. She had not
thought much of how Bastian would take to becoming a father, much less expect
for them to bond in such a short time.

She crossed the
threshold of the room and swept in behind them, her heart swelling with pride,
an unexpected flush of heat rushing through her. Was it wrong to feel so
connected, attracted, and satisfied to have a man such as Bastian at her side?

His head craned to
see her approaching. He smiled at her and lowered his head to whisper something
to the babe. “I was wondering when you would get up. He’s a quiet lad, though
he only holds his attention for a short while before he gets squirmy.”

Cordelia could not
help but laugh. “Surely you jest. One cannot expect a child less than a year to
hold his attention long. For heaven’s sake,” she chided him, reaching for
Matthew. “He should be ready to feed right about now.”

“The housekeeper
has already seen to acquiring a nursemaid on such short notice.”

How could he? This is my right.
Anger
rippled through her that Bastian had taken the choice away from her. “How could
you!”

“My dear, I was
only thinking of you. The child could use a little separation from you now, and
I do not mean to imply a permanent independence. I only speak in the way that
you and I can spend some time alone. Cedric is arranging to have Matthew’s
furniture delivered as we speak.”

No sooner had his
words quieted then a nursemaid entered the suite and retrieved the baby,
leaving her to thoughts of how she would punish him so. She disliked being
cross at him, however, Bastian had crossed the line with his interference. She
had no intention of them staying in town this long. How could she even begin to
ask him to leave this all behind?

He would never
leave his wealth and position to be with her and his illegitimate son. She
could not believe she had even considered the thought.
How foolish. Foolish indeed. A man of his fortune and nobility would
never give anything up for a woman.

The thought pained
her, so much so that she could feel the tears well up in her eyes. Cordelia
stepped back and attempted to leave the room, but as soon as she turned he had
caught her by the waist.

“Where do you
think you are escaping to, my love? I have waited far too long to see you
again, and now that we are alone, you are departing.”

Cordelia sighed,
silently praying to blurt out the words. “Bastian…we…Matthew and I…cannot
stay.”

“I beg your pardon?”
He turned her, ensuring that their gazes met. “Cordelia, whatever do you mean?
I thought that we could make our situation…permanent.”

How desperately
she desired that, but with the small matter of her husband being the obstacle,
how could they even begin to make the prospect more than fiction? She loved
Bastian with all her heart, but they could never live in harmony in London
whilst her husband still survived.

“And pray tell,
how exactly do you suppose we will accomplish the herculean task of making this
permanent. My husband is still alive. His title was revoked, and all that was
mine is gone. Save only for the child that I bore out of wedlock.”

“Barely, woman.
Richard is barely alive. We shall see him on the morrow and put an end to this
madness. You cannot mean to leave me again. I shall not stand for it. I would
rather die at the hands of the enemy than let you turn your back on us. Our
love. The possibility of our happiness. Do not do this, Cordelia. I implore
you!”

The world spun
around her whilst she tried to find the words to express her dismay. Surely, he
could find it in his heart to forgive her. “I am not sure paying my husband a
visit on his death bed is advisable, my lord. If he is ailing from some disease
that is contagious, I do not want to pass it along to my only son.”

“Sweetheart,
Matthew will be the first of many other sons we shall have. Now, come here. We
shall settle this nonsense now, so I can get back to being greedy with my
future countess.”


Shh
! Do not speak such things. It is a bad omen to speak of
things in haste.”

He
tsked
her and
shook his head. “When did you become the superstitious type, Cordelia? I only
speak of the truth. After the great moment when the devil takes your husband
for all his lust, greed, and sloth, we shall be free to pursue our endeavor.”

Cordelia sighed
with defeat. Exasperated and slightly relieved, she fell into his arms.
How things go that so bad, right themselves.

 

* * * *

 

Bastian laced up
her stays and fought viciously to keep himself from ripping the bodice away
from her. To let it fall at her feet, bend her forward until her chest rested
against the vanity, and take her vigorously from behind. Every time the
demmed
woman’s hips swayed, his cock
grew thick and hard. Unfortunately for him, and lucky for her, he had errands
to run and business to conduct.

He dipped his head
into the crook of her neck. “
Mmm
…you smell divine,
Cordelia. What did you put on?”

“I am not sure. I
put on what was left on the table there.”

Bastian snickered.
It warmed him, knowing the staff was becoming accustomed to having a mistress
here. Alongside the fact that he had not seen them about, and when he did, they
were in one way or another occupied with Matthew.

He pressed his
lips to the soft skin of her shoulder and ran his fingers down the length of
her arms. “I know there is much to do before we see Richard, but I think we can
steal a few more moments of the day for personal gratification,
sweetling
.”

Cordelia turned to
face him, placed a kiss on his cheek, and stepped out of the space. She walked
toward the armoire and opened it to find a few gowns already hanging. A gasp
escaped her lips, and when she turned to face him again, tears rimmed her eyes.

Bastian closed the
distance again, pulling her into his arms. Everything was so right between
them. He could not imagine his life without her. “Hush,
sweetling
.
There is nothing I would not do for you. For as long as we are together, you
and our son will not want for anything.”

She sniffled into
his chest. It excited him to see her so vulnerable. “Very well, I shall ravish
you later. Let us get you finished here, so that we may enjoy a bit of
breakfast before the day starts.”

He observed her
pull out a dark bombazine dress and press it against herself. “Do you think
this will suit?”

“It is certainly
dark enough that once we are outdoors, no one could tell who you are. Besides,
you have a black evening cloak that will keep you well disguised.”

“If you say so, my love. If I may be so bold…”

“Certainly, sweeting, speak freely.”

“Well, at first, while I thought seeing Richard would bring some
closure, I am not entirely sure it will now. The
ton
is on the cusp of discovering my return from my dead. How do
you think the denouncement of his title will affect my status, and that of our
sons’? That is, once they learn I had a child out of wedlock during my
absence.”

Cordelia’s concern
tugged at his heart. He wanted to assure her that her visit would go fine, but
he had not the slightest idea as to why the former duke would want to see his wife
one last time. Her worry about the
ton
lashing out at her was partially accurate, though he would never permit any
harm to come to his family.

“My love, all of
us I suppose, in the end, want to free ourselves from the truth. His truth
being that he did some horrible things. The man probably had no designs for you
in the first place. I suspect that is all he wishes to discuss. I mean to say
that he was probably only after your dowry if his recent actions are any
indication of what his motivations have been all along.”

He kissed the top
of her head and whispered, “Now go and get dressed, and try not to worry so
much. There is still time before we head out to Newgate.”

Bastian waited by
the door as she finished dressing. When they descended the stairs, a pounding
at the door raised their alarm. Cordelia stopped behind him and clung to his
waist.

“Do not worry
about a thing, my dear, Cedric will ensure whoever it is goes away. Right,
Cedric?”

But before Cedric
could even open his mouth, Mary Elizabeth came barrelling in through the front
doors, seething in anger.

“What in damnation
are you doing here, woman?”

Mary Elizabeth, in
her fury, stared in horror at the woman hiding behind him.

“You have no
business here, woman. Our very short affair ended some time ago, and you go too
far this time. Get out!” he roared with displeasure. “Get out and never return
to this house, or appear in my presence.”

She ran out
shrieking like a banshee, and after a few moments, there was silence.

He turned to
Cordelia, wiping a runaway tear. “My dear, head on back upstairs, and I will
have breakfast brought to you.” However, before he could even turn his head,
the shouting in the street caught their undivided attention.

“The duchess is
alive. Alive, I say. The Duchess of Downsbury was never dead!”

Bastian ran down
the stairs in all haste. “Cedric, grab that infernal woman, and gag her if you
must. I want her tossed in my carriage. Get it ready. I am going to put an end
to this madness immediately.”

Bastian glared at
the housekeeper, who held Matthew in her arms. “See that your mistress receives
her breakfast in our bedchamber. After that display, it will be a miracle if
she even leaves to visit that wretched wastrel of a man tonight.”

The portly woman
nodded and scurried away with his son.
Now
to end this, once and for all.

 

* * * *

 

“What
in God’s name is the matter with you, Mary
Elizabeth?””

The
cyprian
snorted with contempt. “And you choose a disgraced
duchess over me. Have you not had enough of scandal, Bastian? I know not of
what malady you suffer, as your thoughts do not seem to make an ounce of
sense.”

“What I do, and
who I choose to be with, is of no blasted concern of yours. When will you learn
that you go too far? This last event will surely end your employment. I cannot,
and will not, have Cordelia’s name dragged through the mud, any more than it
has been.”

“And pray tell,
sir, how do you intend to end my employment?”

Surely, she jests. Does she not yet gather that we are headed back
to Martine’s establishment?
No man or woman was
safe, with the extremes she had gone to today. “Soon, my dear, you will learn
my meaning.”

A few minutes
later, they arrived at the lone house on the lane. The same old, burly man
greeted them, holding open the front door. Inside, another gent joined them
with one of the house wenches. Mary Elizabeth tried to pry out of his grip, but
instead, he passed her to the man. “See that she does not leave this room, nor
your sight. I have an important matter to discuss with your mistress. Bring her
forth this instant.”

The air around him
was electric. He was in the mood for a fight, and he would not back down until
Martine came to a resolution as to what she planned on doing with the unruly
courtesan.

“What is the
meaning of all this noise, Lord Wycliffe?”

“One of the girls
you employ. You should already know my meaning.”

“I most certainly
do not, sir. Come into my office for a moment.”

Bastian followed
the madam into a side room, which already had a guest. Lord Chalcroft sat
rigidly and cross when he entered the room.

“Have a seat, my
Lord. It would appear that both of you have complaints regarding my girls, and
I wish to resolve this at once. Lord Chalcroft, as you were here first, what is
the issue?”

“The issue,” he
coughed and said hoarsely, “Is that I wish to terminate my contract with that
bloody wench I paid for. The demmed chit is never where she is supposed to be,
and when she is, she is a terrible bore.”

Madame Martine
lowered her eyes to a piece of parchment and pursed her lips. Her attention
then focused on him. “Lord Wycliffe, what seems to be your problem? I seem to
recall you terminated your services and interest with my house a little while
back.”

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