A Love So Dark (The Dark Regency Series Book 4) (13 page)

“I’m returning to my room, Mrs. Webster. Do not summon me again. And I will be speaking to my husband about this,” Olympia warned softly and then backed away from her before she cleared the door and fled.

***

Florence lounged against the drawing room door and smirked at the dour housekeeper. “You’ve overplayed your hand, Mrs. Webster. You should have allowed me to guide you in this.”

“And what would you have done?” the housekeeper demanded.

“You have access to the perfect weapon, Mrs. Webster,” Florence offered mildly. “Someone who could easily rid us both of our troublesome new viscountess… Griffin would be consumed with guilt and therefore easily led. All you have to do… is leave the door unlocked.”

“She might hurt someone else,” the housekeeper protested.

“She might,” Florence agreed. “But it won’t be us. We’ll be safely behind locked doors. Whether it’s a housemaid, a footman, or his lovely new viscountess, he will still blame himself. And he will blame her… because she’s distracted him from his true purpose of curing his sister. We win, either way.”

“And if Cassandra is hurt?”

Florence’s eyes widened. “You do truly care for her, don’t you?”

“She was a sweet child, until she came here. Until your husband got his hands on her!”

“We were all sweet children until that happened,” Florence replied bitterly. “Do it, Mrs. Webster. It’s the only way.”

The housekeeper wavered for a moment, before squaring her shoulders. “No. Not yet. I will consider it, and if things become dire, then I shall. But when I mentioned her family in London, she was nervous. Scared even.”

Florence considered that. “Fine. I’ll start there and see what else I can find… Get one of the maids to cozy up to that stick like harridan she has with her. The least likely lady’s maid I’ve ever encountered!”

Mrs. Webster nodded her assent. “Yes, my lady. I will let you know what I find. I don’t wish to jeopardize Cassandra anymore than necessary. She’s far more fragile than you realize.”

“We cannot afford to take too much time, Mrs. Webster. The longer she has with him, the more likely he is to fall under her sway. Never underestimate the power a wife holds over a husband… Griffin is a romantic at heart. He will fall in love with her because that is simply his nature. And when that happens, neither of us will hold any power in this house.”

Florence exited the room with a swish of her skirts. The housekeeper would consider it, but eventually, she would relent. It was only a matter of time.

A
headache had been
Olympia’s convenient excuse to avoid the dining room that evening. It wasn’t the room’s bloody history that bothered her. She simply wished to avoid another skirmish with either Mrs. Webster or Lady Florence.

Seated at her dressing table, she waited patiently as Collins as slowly and meticulous removed each pin from her hair. They really would have to do something about her lack of knowledge as a hairdresser.

The connecting door opened and Griffin stood there. He’d dressed for dinner but upon his return had discarded his cravat and coat. His waistcoat was undone and his shirt was open at the neck. He looked disreputable, even a bit rakish, and far more appealing than he should for her peace of mind.

“You may leave us, Collins,” he said. “If her ladyship requires any further assistance, I will provide it.”

The maid blushed, bobbed a curtsy, and fled the room as if being chased by a hellhound. In the mirror, Olympia gave him a baleful glance as the door slammed behind the departing figure of her maid. “You terrify her!”

“Do I terrify you?” he asked.

“Hardly,” she replied.

“Even when I’m in a ghastly, foul mood and take it out on you?” The question was posed as he stepped deeper into the room. He held a piece of cloth in his hand, tied up to form a pouch.

“What do you have there?” she asked curiously.

He placed it on the dressing table before her. “A bribe… I’m hoping to buy my way back into your good graces.”

Olympia untied the knotted ends of what appeared to be a napkin. When it fell open, her mouth watered instantly. Claiming illness had offered Mrs. Webster the perfect revenge. She’d sent up a tray bearing thin, greasy gruel and stale bread for her dinner, claiming that it was what she needed to recover from her illness. Griffin had purloined slices of ham and cheese, as well as fresh, crusty bread. There was even a sliced apple.

“You were never
out
of my good graces,” she replied evenly. “Though if you were, this is precisely how to get back into them.”

Olympia was too busy eating to see his answering smile. If she had looked at him, she would have noted that he stared at her not just with passion but with a tenderness that would have surprised them both.

“I was in a foul mood this morning,” he offered. “I wished to apologize for the manner in which I spoke to you. It was wrong. You did not deserve it and I will endeavor to do better in the future.”

She glanced up again, her mouth full of the delicious and forbidden treats he’d brought. When she finally managed to swallow, she said, “I knew you’d been up all hours of the night. It was the wrong time to press you about such matters.”

He settled onto the edge of her bed. “I want you to understand, Olympia that I would send them both away if I could… Mrs. Webster and Lady Florence. I know they are thick as thieves and hatching plots. But they both have access to information about me, about this family, and about the house that could ruin us forever. And if we are ruined, it will have far reaching consequences.”

“I don’t understand.”

Griffin paused, and then bent to remove his boots. It was a clear indication that he meant to stay and a new hunger replaced Olympia’s desire for food altogether.

“My uncle invested poorly for the most part and lost several fortunes. There were a few successful investments that are still producing… a shipping company in Liverpool, there is a salt mine to the south that is still doing well. And I’ve poured yet more funds into those businesses and people know it. If the family secrets that Mrs. Webster and Florence are privy to come out, no one will deal with those businesses… they will fail because the Darkes have been associated with them. And that’s nothing compared to the tenant farmers. What will become of them when local merchants refuse to do business with them? They’ll have no place to sell their eggs, meat, or wool; they’ll have no place to buy the supplies they need to survive.”

Those words quelled her burgeoning desire. “They would destroy everyone just to destroy you. I know that. Neither of them possesses the ability to see beyond their own selfish agendas to even consider the consequences of their actions to others.”

“Precisely. So, I will keep Mrs. Webster mollified. I will watch Florence like a hawk and attempt to rein her in when necessary. But we must try to appease them… whether we like it or not. At least for now.”

Olympia returned the uneaten food to the napkin he’d used to spirit it to her. After tying it up, she rose and walked toward him.

“I will try to remember that there is a valid reason for holding my tongue… but they do try me greatly,” she offered.

He reached out, latching his hands onto her hips and tugging her forward until he could fold her in his arms completely. His head was pressed to her, just beneath her bosom and his hands roamed freely over her calves and thighs as he tugged her nightrail upward.

“Let us not think of them anymore tonight,” he urged. “We are newly wed, after all. It is a time to be obsessively devoted to one another—to the exclusion of all else.”

Olympia sighed as his hands roamed the backs of her thighs, squeezing and caressing with deliberate intent. “You could tempt a saint.”

“I’ve no wish to tempt a saint,” he offered, lifting his head and pressing a hot kiss to her breast through the fabric of her nightrail and wrapper. “I only wish to tempt my wife. Have I?”

“You know you have!”

“Prove it me,” he said. “Let me see you. All of you.”

“You saw me yesterday afternoon… and last night,” she protested, embarrassed.

“Mere glimpses, Olympia. And I was lost in such a state of lust that I fear I did not pay proper homage to all of your charms… Take off your wrapper,” he asked, giving a playful tug to the ties that held it closed.

Olympia’s face burned at the thought. He had seen her, but it all seemed different now. To disrobe completely while he remained fully clothed seemed especially wicked somehow. Yet, she was reaching for the ties, loosening them and letting the garment fall even as her doubts shouted and clamored within her mind. It appeared he could talk her into anything.

When her wrapper lay discarded on the floor, and only the thin fabric of her nightrail covered her body, he pushed her away from him just a bit. His gaze traveled over her hungrily, so intently that she felt it almost like a caress.

“The rest of it, Olympia,” he said. “I want all of you bared to me… to look at you at my leisure and savor the perfection of your body.”

“I am far from perfect,” she protested, embarrassed at such overblown praise.

“You are,” he insisted. “Porcelain skin so soft I can scarce believe it is real, breasts that beg for my touch, to be taken in my mouth… Shall I go on? You blush so prettily when I’ve scandalized you thoroughly.”

“Will you stop saying such things if I remove my nightrail?” she asked.

“If you remove that garment, Olympia, I can assure you that neither of us will be saying very much at all for some time to come,” he promised.

Her mouth went dry and her heart raced in her chest. It was a challenge, but the reward he offered was beyond her ability to resist. With trembling fingers, she reached up and loosened the ties of her nightrail, drawing it open until it simply fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor. Standing in front of him, she felt vulnerable in ways she’d never imagined. But as she saw his eyes darken, his gaze traveling over her body— that sense of vulnerability faded. Instead, she began to feel powerful. His hunger for her was evident in his expression, in the rapidness of his breathing and the heavy weight of his gaze upon her.

“You almost make me believe I am beautiful when you look at me that way,” she said with wonder.

“Come closer,” he urged. “I will convince you yet.”

Olympia did as he asked, moving closer to him, but he when she was standing between his parted knees, he didn’t tug her onto the bed with him as she’d expected. Instead, he held her there, his hands moving over her, mapping every curve and contour of her body even as his mouth followed. His lips burned a trail along her rib cage, the underside of her breast. When he bit her there, his teeth grazing the tender flesh, she let out a soft yelp of surprise. But what shocked her even more was that she’d enjoyed it thoroughly.

“You are wicked,” she muttered.

“As are you,” he replied softly, his breath fanning over one furled nipple. “Do you deny that everything I’ve done to you and with you, that every touch, has brought you pleasure?”

“No. It would be a lie.” Her response was breathless, her voice thin and weak as he was tracing delicate circles on the crest of her hip bone, each one inching closer to the juncture of her thighs where she was already wet for him.

He drew her down then, slipping his knees between her thighs and parting them until she sat astride him. They were face to face, her breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Even through his breeches she could feel the hard press of his arousal against her. It was an instinctive thing to move against him, to rock her hips against his hardness. It eased the ache growing inside her for just a moment, but when it returned, its force was even greater.

He reached between them, unbuttoning the fall of his breeches. Olympia leaned back glanced down, embarrassed but also eager to see him. She’d been too shy to look at him the night before.

Curiosity got the better of her, and with tentative fingers, she stroked the domed crown. His breath hissed out between clenched teeth and she stopped immediately.

“Don’t,” he said. “It feels wonderful when you touch me that way.”

Olympia did as he bade, exploring the hard length of him, learning the satiny texture of his skin, the impossible firmness of his flesh. Knowing that she pleased him, that it only intensified his desire for her spurred her own desire to new heights. The ache at her center, the sharp and nagging need that only he could fulfill, grew beyond her ability to bear.

As if he’d read her mind and new precisely what she needed from him, he cupped his hand around hers, and with it, guided his rigid length to her entrance. It was an instinctive thing, to simply allow her hips to sink lower, taking him inside her.

The sensation of fullness was still novel to her, and the pleasure it brought still a marvel. His hands fell to her hips, lifting her and then bringing her down again. Olympia bit her lip, trying in vain to hold back the pleasured moan.

“Don’t,” he urged, stroking his thumb over her lip. “Let me hear you. Don’t hide anything from me.”

He surged into her again, and any thoughts of embarrassment, any thought at all, faded. Clinging to him, Olympia dug her nails into the heavy muscles of his shoulders, letting her head fall back as a soft cry escaped her.

Every movement brought a wealth of new sensations, every thrust of his body into hers took the blinding pleasure to new heights. She could feel it building within her, the tension coiling tighter. Every muscle drew taut as she hovered on that precipice.

Griffin leaned forward, kissed her neck and then bit her there. His teeth scraped over her tender skin as he pressed deep one last time. Olympia simply came apart. There was no other word for it. Her body was wracked with tremors as waves of pleasure washed through her. She clung to him desperately. He stood then, bore her back onto the bed and thrust once, and again, before withdrawing from her completely. The warmth of his release bathed her thigh.

Precautions, he’d said. The term made infinitely more sense to her now. The perfection of the moment faded for her. But she’d agreed to his terms and she’d abide by it. To do otherwise would be dishonorable.

He sank onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She went willingly, grateful for the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Children hadn’t really been something she’d allowed herself to dream of for the last several years because the possibility of marriage had seemed so impossibly far away. And now, with a husband who desired her, even if love was not to be part of their arrangement— that yearning was growing within her. She resented it, but part of her also resented him. It was unfair and she knew it. He’d been honest with her from the start about that. She would have to make her peace with it, one way or another.