Escape with A Rogue (41 page)

He wished he could, because it would take a lifetime—a
long
one. When they ran out of things he could invent, they’d have to create naughty ideas together—

She undid his trousers, and he moved from her breast to pull off his shirt, but then he glanced at the door. “This is madness.”

“No,” she breathed. “Not doing this would be madness.”

His shirt fell to the floor and he hooked his fingers in his waistband, just as he had in her cottage on the moors. He could picture again the sweet pink flush on her cheeks and the way she’d knocked her vegetables to the floor. A quick shove took his trousers down. Desire beat hard in him, hotter than he’d ever known.

He wanted to make it perfect for her. Something she would remember forever. He remembered his every moment with her, ever since the first time she had come to the stables. He wanted to leave such unforgettable memories with her.

It was all he could hope for.

Dear heaven, she loved his man.

Jack straightened, completely naked before her. Crackling power seemed to surround him. His haunches flexed, and Madeline skimmed her hand over the firm curve of his buttocks. This—all this—was hers to delight in.

She took his hand and led him to the settee, and he followed her, smiling and obedient. She realized they were equals in so many ways. They had both let their pasts haunt them. They both wanted freedom and peace. They could laugh together. They could help each other heal.

He stood by the curved Grecian-style sofa, watching her curiously.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she suggested playfully, though her heart ached behind the teasing tone.

He sprawled on the delicate chair. She bent to him and slowly swirled her tongue over the head of his cock.

He jolted up, the cobbled muscles of his abdomen tensing. “Maddy—”

She sucked on him, savoring the remarkable flavor of him. Of her Jack. She loved this, the sheer decadence of cradling his bollocks, licking the plump head, stroking his shaft while making him gasp raggedly. But she was eager for more, and she got up on her knees and lifted her shift.

“Hades,” Jack groaned. “I need a sheath, and I haven’t got one.”

She almost laughed. He had been held prisoner in her house overnight and thought she would expect him to take care of this. “I do.” She plucked one from down in her bodice.

“My amazing Maddy.” He laughed. “Planning for everything.” Then his hoarse chuckle gave way to a poignant, gentle look that made her heart leap in her chest.

She would treasure every second. The erotic sight of him pulling on the sheath and tying it. The astonishing length of his shaft as he held it upright. Waiting for her.

She straddled him, hoping she looked graceful and alluring as she tried to find a place for her knees. He grinned and she giggled in return, and felt at once comfortable. She could trust him with anything.

She loved him. It was that simple. Undeniable. Despite disaster hovering over them, it was enriching and beautiful. She would never stop loving him.

She lowered her quim on him, gasping as his thick shaft invaded. This moment was always intense and exciting, and almost more arousing than she could bear. “Heavens, Jack.”

His throaty laugh was magical. He held her hands, supporting her as she rose and fell on him. His green eyes glowed, his smile urged her on. She let her head drop back, feeling wanton.

Up and down she went, harder, faster. Rushing to her pleasure. She rocked her hips forward, and found a place where his firm groin kissed her sensitive nub. It took only a few grinding, luxurious strokes—

“Oh my God!” Her body exploded in pleasure, madly, gloriously. Jack pinched her nipples while she rode him. She couldn’t collapse on him, not with him holding her up by her breasts. Then he shifted his hands, sweeping her onto her back.

Jack was swiving her madly on the daybed. There could be nothing more thrilling. She climaxed again, velvety pleasure swamping her.

“Dear God,” she whispered.

Jack lifted her, kept her seated upon his cock. He carried her, and she held his neck, not ever wanting to let him go. Every moment with Jack was an adventure.

He pressed her to the wall, and she wrapped her legs tight around him. She lavishly licked his neck as he thrust into her like an artist laying all his talent upon a canvas. Deep thrusts, then light ones that made her toes curl, then ones with a luscious twist.

Her quim pulsed and fluttered, and ecstasy rolled over her like warm water. “Oh,
oh
. It’s happening again—”

“Maddy, I love you.” Jack thrust deep, and his hips bucked. His eyes shut tight in his agony, and he came with her, sharing the moment with her. Sweat beaded on her chest, on his forehead, and a droplet fell to her lips.

She licked it up. Savored it. She took in the beauty of his face as his climax drained away all his energy. She nestled her head against him, against his damp, hot skin, but tears burned.
I love you.
“Now that you’re exhausted and pleasured,” she whispered, “and you know how much I adore you, will you listen to me? I can’t give you up, Jack.”

He let his forehead rest against the wall. “I can’t have you, Madeline, even though I love you so much.”

A sharp rap echoed on the door. Philip’s voice came through. “Madeline, you must come out. Mr. Oberon and Captain Livingston are here.”

She tried to slide off Jack’s hips, but he held her waist. “You are to keep away from them.”

“No, I—”

“Listen to me, Madeline. Oberon won’t bargain with me,” he said. “He told you that to coerce you into telling him where I was. You remember I told you I overheard Livingston say there were traitors working for the Crown?”

She nodded.

“Oberon could be a traitor. Someone sent the assassins on the moors, and they were thugs who knew me from London. I suspect that means the traitor is working with Stephen. Blenchley the guard claimed he was working for a man who called himself Oberon.”

“Don’t you see, Jack? If Captain Livingston is
not
a traitor, we can tell him, or we could get you to Oberon’s superiors in the Crown. We can use this to bargain—”

“Oberon is going to be desperate and afraid,” he said. “He must have guessed I wouldn’t reveal the names of the traitors while I was using the information to stay alive. But now, he’ll think I’ll use his name to try to escape the noose.” He stroked her cheek. “I’m not going to put you in danger. I have no idea if Livingston is a traitor—I suspect he isn’t, because he would not have been talking about the rot in the Crown to Oberon if he were. But I want to ensure you’re safe, Madeline. I’ll let them take me and you can go to the local magistrate with our suspicions about Oberon—”

“You could be dead by then! I will send a servant to fetch the magistrate right now. You cannot leave with Oberon. You’ll be safest in the house.” She grasped Jack’s arm.

He wrapped his hands around her arms. Then he lifted her off him and deposited her gently on the chair. “You can’t show you suspect him, Maddy.” He had gone chalk white. “If Oberon thinks you know he’s a traitor, you’re in danger. Hades, you’re at risk anyway. But I’m going to use my information to make sure you’re safe.” He yanked on his clothes.

Suddenly Madeline understood. Jack was not going to hold onto his list of names for Stephen or even Bess. He was going to do it for
her
.

She slid off the chaise and rushed over to him. “You cannot go with Oberon. He’ll kill you!” But before she could start to think of a plan, Jack lifted her hand and kissed it. A melting kiss, but one so full of regret, she could almost taste it. Then he pulled her gown over her head and began to fasten it.

“I
want
to believe I could bargain for my freedom, and then drop onto one knee and propose marriage to you. And you would walk away from your family to be with me. Bess used to tell me fairy tales where love conquered all. But I know that can’t happen. Maddy, I killed those men on the moors. I killed a viscount. I’d cost you everything that matters to you—your home, your position, your family. You’d resent me and you would grow to hate me.”

As he believed he’d made his mother hate him. “That doesn’t matter to me,” she insisted. “I have lived my life afraid I would fail to be perfect, afraid my father would decide he would no longer have me under his roof. But I faced that fear today. I admitted to Father and Philip that I helped you.
You
gave me the courage, Jack. I would never hate you. Never resent you.”

“You would. But what I can do now is protect you.”

This was madness. She couldn’t keep him. Not because he didn’t love her enough, but because he loved her too much.

The idea startled her so much that it gave him a chance to march swiftly to the door before she could stop him. He opened it, revealing Philip, Father, and the Crown’s agents waiting to take him.

“Evershire,” Jack addressed her father. “Watch your daughter. I do not want Madeline doing something foolhardy to save me.”

Her father pointed at a man armed with a rifle. “The Crown has sent a guard to watch over her. To protect her from you, Travers.”

Madeline could guess the truth. The guard had been sent to ensure she could not interfere with Oberon’s plans for Jack.

“Not bloody likely,” Jack muttered, and he sprang so swiftly on the armed man, she barely saw him move. He jerked the weapon out of the astonished man’s hands. But one of the other agents jumped forward and slammed the butt end of his pistol against Jack’s head.

Her heart almost burst in fear as Jack fell unconscious to the floor.

Chapter Twenty-four

Jack had been taken from the room, and a dark-haired, young soldier had been left on guard. To prevent her from chasing them, she guessed. The lad was armed, and he clung to his rifle as if he feared she would steal it away from him.

Madeline stalked up to him, fuming.

His smooth cheeks paled as she approached, and he positioned his body in front of the door, barring her way. She waved him aside, but of course he did not move. “Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to shoot me—an unarmed woman and an earl’s daughter?”

He gulped. “Y—you’re not supposed to leave the room, my lady. I—It’s my duty to protect you. Mr. Oberon ordered that you were to stay here under my watch.”

Frustration beat at her. But she tamped down panic, certain the only way to win was to use her mask as a perfect lady. “Think it through,” she snapped. “Does it make sense to you that I would need an armed guard in my own home? What could Jack Travers do to me in a crowded house?”

The young soldier frowned, but he weighed her words. “Those are my orders, my lady.”

“Oberon could be working with traitors in London. He could want you to watch over me so I can’t stop him taking Jack away. So he can murder Jack Travers. He’s put you on guard to ensure I can’t talk to the magistrate—” Her rapid words were only confusing the lad. She glared. “Did he command you to kill me to silence me?”

He gaped at her, confused. “He said you might get desperate and panicked, and that I was to—to restrain you.”

“I shall have your head if you try. I can do that. I can have Mr. Oberon’s on a platter, too, if I command it.”

Of course she couldn’t, but the young soldier obviously didn’t know that. And in that moment, where he was uncertain and frightened of possible confrontation, she pushed him away from the door. She’d surprised him enough by her directness and strength. He stumbled to the side.

She darted past him and out the door. All she could do was pray Oberon hadn’t ordered him to shoot—or, if he had, that the boy would hesitate before killing an unarmed lady.

Heavy footsteps revealed Father in pursuit, followed by the armed lad, his rifle pointed up at the ceiling. “Father, they are holding us captive with armed guards,” she shouted. “This is wrong.” Then she raced toward the front door in pursuit of Jack.

“They have him in chains!” Her mother’s voice rose in horror from the music room, which overlooked the front drive. “It’s terrible. So very wrong!”

Mama was not supposed to be downstairs, but Madeline rushed into the room to find her with a maid. She reached her mother’s side at the window. At once, she recognized Oberon’s tall frame and Livingston’s stocky one. Two other men dragged Jack behind them. He was conscious but staggering. His wrists were manacled and shackles secured his legs. Eversleigh footmen stared impassively ahead as the Crown agents pushed Jack into the waiting carriage.

She could
not
let this happen. But the drive was not the place to stop it. She would be too late.

She managed to evade the guards and get out through the rear kitchen door. It took precious minutes to reach the stable and command a groom to help her. She threw open the door to Penelope’s stall. Her fingers shook as she slid a bridle on. “Hold her,” she commanded the hapless groom, as she swung up onto Penelope’s bare back. Fiercely, she jammed her skirts in a bunch in front of her. As the groom managed to utter a strangled protest, she urged Penelope out of the stables.

Near the drive, she heard masculine exclamations of surprise. She leaned forward, shifted her weight and sent Penelope into a gallop. Grandfather had ensured she learned to ride like a jockey, and she was thankful for it now. Penelope flew across the fields. They were moving straight as an arrow, making for the first bend in the road—she would catch the carriage there. With any luck, she would be ahead of it.

Her luck was in.

She slowed Penelope to a walk and placed herself across the road, right in the middle, so Oberon’s coach had no choice but to stop. It did, and with such haste the vehicle rocked on its wheels. Captain Livingston leaped to the road, a pistol in his hand, scarlet infusing his face.

“What are you doing, my lady?” he roared.

Mr. Oberon walked down from the carriage on quickly lowered steps, wearing a surprising smile. “I think she intends to rescue Mr. Travers again,” he said cheerfully. “Are you armed, Lady Madeline?”

“If I was, you would well know—because I would be pointing a weapon at you right now.”