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Authors: Coleen Kwan

Darke London (14 page)

BOOK: Darke London
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“Nellie…” All the rancour he’d worked up on the trip home dissolved as he stared down at her. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t know why I married him. I was naive and yearning to escape from the asylum and my father…” Gulping, she pressed her fingers against her face. “I had these girlish notions of what it was to fall in love, and Phillip appeared, and I transferred all those fanciful ideas onto him, but—but it was a fantasy, I realise that now, for both of us. He was looking for solace, and I was seeking an escape from the loneliness of my life, but I should never have eloped with him. And then I insisted we get married with all possible haste. I badgered and pestered him. That’s why…” She broke off, her distress causing his gut to clench.

“What? What are you trying to tell me?”

She lifted darkened eyes to him. “Mr. Derringer sent me a note earlier today. You recall he offered to find out the truth about my marriage, whether Pip had concealed a prior betrothal from me. Well—” she drew in a quick gulp of air, “—it appears Sir Thaddeus was telling the truth. Pip has been engaged to a Miss Montague for more than two years and the wedding was to be held this spring.”

“My God!” Julian couldn’t help himself bursting out. “He’s as devious as his damned father!”

“No, I don’t believe that. He lied to me, yes, but not out of deviousness. He’s simply misguided and…and desperate.”

“He’s a fraud. He lied to you and tricked you into giving yourself to him.” He stopped short, gulping hard as the image of an innocent Nellie offering her maidenhood to the wretched Pip blighted his mind. With a small gasp, she turned her head, and the action hurt him even more than his taunting imagination.

“I’m not entirely without blame,” she muttered. “I was a prude, caught up in notions about my respectability and the fantasy of marriage. Pip is a soft soul; he needs someone who can be his stalwart, but I could never be that, especially when his father turned on him. After that, I became a burden to him.”

Julian tightened his grip on her trembling shoulders. “Ye gods, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a lily-livered featherweight.”

“No, he’s a tortured soul. Isn’t it obvious? Why else does he visit Madame Olga so often?”

Julian wanted to howl with frustration at her stubbornness. “Because he’s wracked with guilt over your death. Because he connived with Thaddeus to have you abducted and murdered, that’s why.”

“No, I refuse to believe that!”

“But you’ve contemplated it.” She did not respond, but her clouded gaze gave him answer enough. “Of course it horrifies you to think your phony husband would plot your demise, but you know it is a distinct possibility. Phillip scurried back to his father while you were out looking for employment. He had no means of support, and he was utterly incapable of living in poverty. His only option was to go crawling back to his father, cap in hand. Sir Thaddeus wanted you gone, but a public divorce would be too scandalous and take much too long. So Sir Thaddeus gave him an ultimatum. Get rid of your inconvenient wife immediately or live a life of penury forever. Phillip agreed, but he was too yellow-bellied to carry out the deed himself, so Sir Thaddeus organised the ambush. The bastard who assaulted you was supposed to have drowned you in the river, no doubt, but he was greedy. He wanted those rings of yours, and when I came to your rescue, he was in a quandary. He’d fouled up the job he’d been given, but he didn’t want to confess to Thaddeus. So instead he killed some poor streetwalker, hacked up her face, and put your rings on her. And now you’re dead, Phillip can live life on the hog again, as long as he does his father’s bidding.”

During his impassioned speech she’d said not a word. Now, with face set, she slowly disentangled herself from his grip. He wondered if he’d gone too far, but when she spoke her voice was low and hesitant.

“Everything you say is probably true, but I cannot condemn Pip without giving him a chance to defend himself.”

His gut clenched in protest. She must still nurse feelings for Phillip Ormond. How could she not see how feeble that boy was?

“Well, then, you must accost him with the truth.” Folding his arms, he regarded her brusquely. “You must show yourself to him.”

“I…haven’t decided that yet.”

She dipped her head to hide her scars from his sight. That was the first time she’d ever done that to him. He reached out to her chin and tilted her face back to him.

“Don’t ever hide yourself from me like that,” he said roughly. “I’m not your pernickety spouse. To me your face is perfect. Perfect, I tell you.”

A tide of colour rose in her cheeks. “Now who is the fanciful one?”

He brushed his thumb over the dimple in her chin, relishing the feel of her warm skin and delicate bone structure. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If your boy flinches at the sight of your scars, then he is not worth having.”

“Perhaps, but…” She chewed her lower lip pensively. “Perhaps I will write him a letter first.”

“A letter? That is hardly the way to confront him.”

“But I have no desire for confrontation or accusation. I wish only to know the truth.”

Reluctantly Julian released her chin and tucked his hand into his trouser pocket. He would never stand a chance with Nellie if she continued to harbour these conflicted feelings for Phillip. Once and for all the truth had to be wheedled out of Phillip, and without the need for Nellie to show herself.

“I have an idea on how we could trick Phillip into revealing himself,” he said, “but you may not approve.”

She glanced up, her interest piqued. “Oh? Why not?”

“It involves Madame Olga.”

“I see. Well, go on.”

As he proceeded to outline his plan, she remained silent, only the startled flickering in her eyes showing her response. Finally he stopped. Her furrowed brow did not auger well for her reaction.

“Well, what do you think?” he prompted when he grew tired of waiting.

“I think your plan is quite outlandish.”

“I hardly think insults are—”

“And I approve.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Yes. Yes, I think it’s so peculiar it just might work.”

He rocked back and forth on his heels. “Ah. Well. A lot depends on you, you realise. You will have to give quite a performance.”

“Indeed. I’ll take instruction from Madame Olga and practice my part thoroughly.” For a few more moments she contemplated his plan, and when she lifted her gaze to him there was suffusing warmth in her eyes. “Oh, Julian, you’re brilliant. This has given me fresh hope.”

The glimmer in her moss-green eyes lit a spark in him. Without warning, desire rippled through his veins, causing his fingers to tremble, but he made himself give her a bland smile. “At least you will have a resolution of sorts.”

She moved forward and touched his arm. “You’re so ingenious. I never would have thought of such a scheme. In fact, you’ve done so much for me already. Thank you, Julian.”

Leaning forward, she rose on tiptoe and planted a light kiss on his cheek. For a split second he just stood there, transfixed by her action. A moment later, his body responded viscerally, and he wrapped an arm around her waist and slid his mouth over hers. She made a tiny gasp, and he feared she would pull away, but then her lips softened and yielded against his, and it felt as though the blazing summer sun had burst through. The honey of her kiss poured out like hot lava through him, surging to every region. It was as if he’d been frozen for eons, and now the heat of her mouth was flooding his body, dissolving all the ice.

Lifting his hand to the back of her neck, he cradled her head as he bent her over his arm and ravished her mouth once more. Her fingernails dug into the sleeves of his coat. For a moment it seemed she was about to rip herself away, but instead she pulled him closer, so close their bodies were plastered together and he could feel every delicious inch of her. The mounds of her breast pressed urgently against his chest, the layers of cloth between them insufficient to disguise the hardening of her nipples. The discovery of her arousal only fed his own. He plundered her lips once more, only to find her tongue sliding into his mouth, shy and teasing and lascivious all at the same time. His heart leaped. How sensual and abandoned she was! Sweet and carnal, adorable and voluptuous, she was an intoxicating concoction that went straight to his head. He tasted her tongue and penetrated her mouth, all the while conscious of the pounding need building in his body. The tightening of his trousers came as no surprise. By heaven, he was in the grip of an unaccustomed fervour! He’d long ago discarded his chasteness, but Nellie in his arms triggered new sensations of such overwhelming power he wasn’t sure he could control them.

Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. Their panting breaths rose in the still air and mingled with the steam rising from their heated bodies. Nellie’s face was flushed with ardour, her lips swollen and wet and utterly enticing. Her glittering green eyes and striped cheeks gave her the exotic allure of a feline in heat, and the need to get her naked and on her back clawed at him like a ravenous beast.

“Nellie,” he groaned, smoothing his hands over her hair as he battled to control his primitive desires. “I didn’t mean to… You took me by surprise…”

“I am a shameless wanton,” she whispered back. As her hands moved feverishly over his chest, her spurs unsheathed and caught in the soft fabric of his shirt, tearing a rent at his collar. She sucked in a breath, then bent her head and licked at the patch of bare skin exposed.

Julian inhaled as the warm moist tip of her tongue swirled over his skin. “Sweet Jesus, don’t stop.”

She laved him again, her tongue and claws switching between playful and greedy. Sensations spiralled out of him, layer upon layer. He lanced his fingers through her tumbled hair, and the silkiness of her curls sharpened the pleasure of her lapping tongue. As the edge of her teeth nipped at his flesh, she drew back, dazed and panting.

“I—I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to bite—”

“Don’t apologise, my sweet. I want to feast on you too. Every inch of you.”

Her eyes widened, but she did not seem appalled by his suggestion. “I don’t—I’ve never…” She licked her lips nervously, and the sight of her wet mouth made the blood pound harder in his loins.

She’d never experienced such an explosion of desire, he conjectured. Never felt such primitive lust. Well, neither had he, despite his former experience. This was something new, something altogether different, for both of them.

“Yes,” he murmured against her mouth. “I understand. This is unfamiliar for me too.”

This time the heat of his kiss flared even higher. She didn’t shrink away but wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Spurred on, he slipped his hand down her back, following the contours of her spine until he reached her bottom, where he squeezed her flesh through her skirts. She let out a miniscule squeak against his lips as her buttocks perked in delightful fashion beneath his greedy grip. Before he knew what he was doing, his hand lifted the hem of her skirts and sought out her leg. A rounded knee was the first thing he encountered. He smoothed his hand northwards over her cotton drawers and closed his palm around the firm mound of her derriere. The heat of her flesh radiated through the thin material like fire.

“Nellie, sweet Nellie. You are Venus come to tempt me sorely.”

Though lust hazed his brain, he hung on to the remnants of his self-control. Nellie was not her usual self, understandable after the events of the night, and he had to be mindful of this though she clung to him and kissed him with wild abandon. He had to maintain command of the situation. But even as he thought this, his exploration of her bottom drew his hand to the cleft between her buttocks, and to his enchantment he discovered her drawers were of the open-crotch variety. Without pause, his fingers slipped involuntarily through the opening and sought out the sweet moistness between her thighs.

Nellie exclaimed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she first tensed then slowly relaxed against him. Heat shot through him as he caressed her slick folds. He could no more stop himself as fly through the air. Indeed, his heart hammered so hard he feared his ribs would burst. He felt as though he were drowning in her melting, dizzying temptation. Moaning softly, she shifted her legs, rubbing herself against his urgent fingers.
Sweet lover mine
. How ravishing she looked with her head thrown back, her hair wild and her breasts heaving.

His gaze flickered to the stairs leading up to the hayloft. It would take a matter of seconds to get her upstairs, and once up there they would tear off their clothes, and she would recline naked on a pile of hay and spread her thighs wide. His crotch swelled even harder, the urge for release biting at him. His hand tightened on her bare thigh; he could practically feel himself thrusting into her.

Then his gaze fell upon her dazed and trusting face, and shame pricked him. Good God, Nellie was special and precious to him. She was no amiable tart to be carelessly tumbled in the stable. She deserved rubies and emeralds, the stars and the moon, everything her heart desired and more. And he wanted more, too. More than a befuddled coupling at midnight, he wanted her trust and regard, and groping at her like a lust-addled satyr was no way to win her esteem.

Slowly he withdrew his hand from her legs. He straightened her ruffled skirts and buttoned her jacket, all the while trying to ignore his baying, boiling need.

BOOK: Darke London
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