Improper Gentlemen (25 page)

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Authors: Diane Whiteside,Maggie Robinson,Mia Marlowe

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Improper Gentlemen
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The way he felt right now, a lifetime would be too short.
 
Rosalinde woke later to find Aidan easing out of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Aware of her nakedness as she sat up, she bunched the sheets around herself. Aidan made no attempt to cover his glorious body as he stooped to gather his discarded clothing.
“It’ll be dawn in a couple hours,” he said, leaning one knee on the mattress to kiss her. “Surely ye’re not wishing for your maid to discover me under your sheets.”
“No,” she said, not entirely sure it wouldn’t be a good idea to put a simple, if scandalous, end to their improper courtship. They’d marry in haste and the rest of the world could go chase itself. “I suppose not.”
He cupped her cheek. “I’d almost rather stay than keep breathin’, but I’d have ye proud when ye become my wife.”
Her heart swelled. He was right. She’d almost forgotten her duty to marry well so her great-aunt would bequeath her unentailed property and a decent sum to her poor father. Lady Chudderley was just vindictive and controlling enough to slight him in her will if Rosalinde thwarted her wishes. In order for Aidan to meet Lady Chudderley’s requirements that her betrothed be a proper gentleman with the right connections, they couldn’t very well be embroiled in a disgraceful start.
“Never fear. I’ll be proud when I become your wife.” She kissed him and despite his protestations, he climbed back into the bed with her, rolling across the crumpled linens in a tangle of arms and legs.
Then he swore softly. “No more, love. I must go.”
She sighed in frustration as he dragged himself away and gathered up the rest of his garments, heading toward the secret panel. He was still naked and his cock stiff when he turned to look at her one last time.
“What a stubborn man you are,” she said, eyeing him pointedly. She let the sheet fall to bare her breasts. “You know you want to stay.”
He groaned with need. “Sure and ye’re trying to kill me, Rose.”
“No, only to love you.”
“I know it doesn’t seem so, but right now, leaving is the best way for me to love you. But meet me in the stable at dawn, aye?”
Only a couple hours away.
She nodded and he disappeared into the darkness. The wall whirred shut behind him.
She sank back into the feather pillows, but her body was too keyed up to allow for sleep. She supposed she ought to don her nightshift so Katie wouldn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary.
Then she noticed a dark shape on the floor.
She rose from bed. All her joints felt loose and achy, but it was the good ache of having been well loved. She stooped to discover one of Aidan’s stockings next to her discarded nightshift. She quickly pulled the shift over her head and tried to find the secret entrance in the wall.
“Bother!” she muttered after she ran her fingers over the place where Aidan had magically appeared without finding a way to open it. Evidently the lord of Stonehaven only wanted a secret entrance between his chamber and his lady’s if he was the one who controlled access to it.
After the debacle with Aidan’s button in Bermuda, she shuddered to think what might happen if the man’s stocking were discovered in her chamber here. She padded to the door and peered into the hall, hoping to skitter to Aidan’s room and back without being seen.
Rosalinde opened her door a crack. The swish of kid soles on hardwood made her stop. She put an eye to the slit in the door and saw a woman in a maid’s mobcap and apron moving furtively down the hall. Buxom and bold, she fit Katie’s description of Lily Wade, the upstairs maid.
Lily stopped and scratched on one of the doors. Someone opened to her and she slipped into the chamber, silent as a wraith.
But in that slice of a moment, Rosalinde saw the face of the man who opened the door clearly.
All the air whooshed out of her body in a single rush. Shakily, Rosalinde pulled her door closed and sank to her knees beside it because she no longer had the strength to remain upright.
How could she have been so stupid? So gullible as to believe protestations of love from the admitted prince of rogues. She was never going to read another sonnet as long as she lived. Poetry and iambic pentameter had obviously turned her brain to pudding.
The chamber Lily had entered in the middle of the night without so much as a “by your leave” belonged to Aidan.
Chapter 9
 
I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you, as ’twere any nightingale.
—S
HAKESPEARE
,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
 
 
 
 
 
 
S
ongbirds put the finishing flourish on their pre-dawn hymn to the sun. They’d escaped the night terrors of the fox and owl, and the eastern sky wavered in shades of pearl. It was worth singing about.
Aidan knew exactly how they felt as he crunched across the graveled exercise yard toward the stable. When he’d emerged from Royal Dock with his health and sanity intact, he’d thanked God. Then he swore he’d discover who really should have taken berth on that prison ship. He owed Peg Bass that much.
He was close to knowing. He felt it in his bones. In the green morning air. In the heady joy of Rosalinde’s love.
He hoped to choose a suitable mount for her and have it saddled and ready before she appeared.
He found his groom already up and mucking out the stables.
“Where is Balor?” Aidan asked when he noticed the empty stall. Named for a Celtic god with a venomous eye, the beast was only a small step up from Beelzebub himself. Balor was a looker, sleek and black, and in all that horse’s vice-ridden life, Aidan was the only one who’d ridden him successfully. He suspected the
Knack
deserved most of the credit.
The groom sprang to attention and tugged his forelock. “Miss Burke’s riding ’im, m’lord. Picked him out herself, she did. Ye must admit ’e’s a prime bit o’ horseflesh.”
“And you saddled him for her?” The wee fool. Didn’t she realize her equestrian skills weren’t up to this challenge? Not without Aidan to
Knack
the beast for her. And even then, with Balor, it didn’t always work.
“I didn’t want to, but she insisted.” The man twisted his cap in nervous hands. “Beggin’ your pardon, your lordship, but you told me I should honor the requests of your guests. I thought ye’d be along direct like, so I saddled Camlan for ye.”
Aidan swung onto the back of his preferred mount. Camlan, a big bay, was less wily than Balor, but he was deeperchested and willing and would run himself to death if Aidan demanded it. “Did you see which way she went?”
“She asked the way to the ruin.”
Aidan swore with vehemence and Camlan leaped forward, barreling across the exercise yard and into the open meadow beyond, hooves digging into the black turf. The ruin of the old tower was overgrown with tangled brambles and blackthorn. If Rosalinde’s mount threw her on one of the narrow game trails in the wood surrounding the ruin, she could be seriously injured.
He caught sight of her dashing across the meadow ahead of him. When a hedgerow rose before her, she took the jump in a glorious bound and landed safely without Balor breaking his headlong stride.
When Aidan and Camlan sailed over the same hedgerow, she glanced back. But instead of slowing to allow him to join her, she leaned forward over her horse’s head and urged him to more speed. Aidan gained on her over the uneven ground, but he held his breath lest her mount step into a coney hole and send her flying.
When she turned Balor’s head into the wood, he called out to her to stop. She ignored him.
He dogged her into the dense overgrowth, ducking under low hanging branches and dodging whippy tendrils of woody vines. When the weathered gray stone of the tower rose before her, Balor reared, screaming his wicked head off.
Rosalinde dropped the reins and clutched the gelding’s black mane. Aidan rushed forward and snatched the dangling lines.
“Down, ye big bastard!” Aidan bellowed and splayed his fingers toward the beast, sending the full power of the
Knack
roiling toward the horse. Balor dropped his front hooves to the ground in a heartbeat and stood still, quivering but compliant.
“Give me those reins,” Rose demanded.
“Well, now, if ye want them so badly, perhaps ye shouldn’t have dropped them. Are ye trying to damage yourself?”
“Why should I do that when you’re so very willing to do it for me?” She narrowed her eyes. If she’d been a cat, she would have hissed at him. “Leave me alone.”
She unhooked her knee from the sidesaddle and slid off Balor’s back without waiting for his help. He dismounted, looped both horses’ reins around a hawthorn trunk and followed her into the tower ruin.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong, he says.” She lifted her hands in a gesture of frustration as she stomped through the overgrown grass amid moss-covered walls pocked with arrow loops. “I suppose you expect me to be grateful you managed to drag yourself away from your bed so you could keep our dawn assignation. Honestly, Aidan, I don’t know where you find the stamina. Katie said that woman looked the sort who could wear a man slick and I quite agree.”
“Who are you talking about?”
She rounded on him. “Lily Wade.”
“Oh,” he said slowly.
“Yes, oh. I know men expect to keep light-o-loves, but by God, what woman would put up with one under the same roof? Or did you think me too besotted to notice?”
“Ye’re mistaken, love. My dealings with Lily Wade are nothing of the sort. She’s merely performing a service for me.” He reached out and grasped her arm. “And not the one ye think.”
She yanked her arm away. “Believe me, you don’t want to know what I think.”
He grabbed her and pinned her between his body and the stone wall. She struggled, but he didn’t release her.
“Will ye stand still so I can explain?”
She stopped trying to jerk away from him, but just to be on the safe side, he pressed his body against hers. A man was never kicked by a horse if he walked close behind its rump. He’d only feel the hooves if he gave the animal room to maneuver. He didn’t dare give Rose any space at all or he suspected she’d put a knee to his groin. She finally stilled when she realized she couldn’t wiggle free, but turned her head to the side to avoid his gaze.
“Lily Wade is not a serving girl,” he explained. “She’s an actress.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better. And just what service is it this actress
performs
for you?”
“It could compromise matters for me to say.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Rose, ye must understand. I don’t want to involve you because the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
She shot him a venomous glare. “You mean the safer
you’ll
be. And whether I like it or not, it seems I’m already involved.”
He sighed. “She’s helping me discover who really killed Peg Bass. Last night, she came to my room to report that she’d done as I asked and set the trap for the real killer.”
Her features softened. “Why did you confess to the murder in the first place?”
“They arrested Liam for it,” he said, easing his hold on her somewhat. “He’d never have survived prison.”
Her brows knit together as she digested this bit of news. “Are you sure he didn’t do it?”
“Sure as I’m holding you. Liam is odd, I’ll grant ye, but he’s not at all violent. They arrested him because he used to leave orchids for Peg Bass and moon about over her a bit. She was always kind to him, but that was as far as it went. He’d never have hurt her.”
“He lights a lamp for her in the grotto every night,” Rose said. “Doesn’t that sound as if he has a guilty conscience?”
“He says she was afraid of the dark and Mrs. Fitzgerald backs his story. The girl never ventured up the back stairs without a candle.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t one of the servants who killed her?”
He shook his head. “Do you really think the worthy Mrs. Fitz wouldn’t know if they did? The only thing she was sure of at the time was that the poor girl was gone with child by someone who wouldn’t or couldn’t do right by her. If it was one of the servants, there’d have been a shotgun wedding. She’d have seen to it.”
“Then if it wasn’t Liam,” her eyes widened as she followed the thread of logic, “then it was someone else who was here that summer.”
“Aye, lass,” he said. “And I mean to discover who.”
 
Aidan’s eyes were impossibly green as he gazed down at her, lit from behind with a wild spark of determination. Then something changed and they darkened as his pupils expanded. Rosalinde felt the subtle shift of desire in the contact between them and her body responded. His mouth descended to hers even as she stretched up to meet him.
He was delicious. Warm. Unbearably male. She gave herself over to him and he took her. His kiss alone was enough to start the low throb of need in her belly. She groaned into his mouth.
Before she knew what he was about, he’d lifted her skirt and found the slit in her pantalets. She was swollen and achy and so sensitive, her insides contracted in greeting at his first touch. Her mind might harbor doubts, but her body knew this man and welcomed him.
She worked the buttons to free the hard bulge in his drop-front trousers. He lifted her thigh and hitched her leg over his hip.
Then he released her mouth and gazed down at her as he entered her in a single slow thrust, his thick length filling her so deeply she was forced to stand on tiptoe.
“You’re mine, Rose. Mine alone.” Then he was caught in the heat of rut and thrust into her repeatedly.
“Harder,” she urged between clenched teeth.
She didn’t have to tell him twice. They moved together, grinding against each other as if they wanted to climb into each other’s skin.
The secret part of her began to coil. She was so close. Desperation made tears cling to her lashes.
Only a little more . . . only a little . . .
Then she convulsed in his arms, her whole body shuddering over the force of her release. He stopped pumping and thrust into her deeply. A hoarse cry tore from his throat and his seed shot into her in hot pulses.
Rosalinde had no way to gauge how long they sagged against each other with her back against the cool, lichen-covered stone. She was only aware of their hearts falling into a steady rhythm and their breathing coming together as one. Aidan finally slid out of her and smoothed down her skirt.
“Seems I let me cock lead me a merry chase.” He slanted her a crooked grin. “I shouldn’t have taken ye in such a desolate spot. I’m sorry, lass.”
“Don’t you dare be sorry,” she said fiercely. “Do you think it matters to me one jot where we are so long as we’re together? And if you’ll recall, I’m the one who led you here on a merry chase.”
A smile stretched across his handsome face as he tucked in his shirt and refastened his trousers. “Aye, lass. So ye did. Only next time, don’t be trying it on that big demon Balor.” He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the neck. “I’m awfully fond of your sweet body just as it is.”
“Agreed.” The horse’s power had scared her more than she wanted to admit. “But now that we’re here, I don’t suppose there’s any harm in snooping around, is there?”
“Nary a bit. In fact, I’ve been meaning to come have a look-about.” He strode into the next empty room, sending a covey of quail scurrying through the underbrush. The tower rose around them, the open sky vaulting above its gray walls. “When Mrs. Fitzgerald showed me the secret passage between the master’s chamber and some of the others, it gave me pause. What’s to say that’s not something used time out of mind here at Stonehaven? There might be a connection between this old ruin and the grotto, I’m thinkin’.”
Rosalinde followed. “Why would that be important?”
“If there was, it would untie a knot I’ve been puzzling over. Might be how the killer got away without being found in the maze.” He walked around a sapling growing up in what used to be a long hall in the ancient keep. “There.”
He pointed to a dark portal in the gray stone. The English oak was rotted away, but heavy iron hinges still jutted from the stonework.
Aidan stepped into the doorway and looked down. “Might be it.”
Rosalinde peered around him. A set of stone steps led downward. To the dungeon, perhaps? The scent of damp and rot and ancient misery rose to meet her nostrils. “If we’re going down there, we’ll need a torch.”
“And some kind soul’s left us one, darlin’.” A pitch-daubed stick was thrust into an iron ring in the wall. Aidan lit the torch with a phosphorus match and started down the stairs. “Careful. They’re uneven and a little slick in spots.”
He reached behind him to take her hand as they descended. The stairs ended in a long, man-height corridor stretching away into the blackness. The torch chased away the tunnel’s clinging dark and Aidan swept aside the long dangling cobwebs.

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