Sexual Hunger (19 page)

“And what about Father? Which group is
he
in?” Jemma’s voice sounded high and childlike. Her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “He—he was not an overtly affectionate man, as Mummy said, but he wasn’t mean or hateful, either. At least not to
me.
”

“And when I summon him, you will realize that his nature remains unchanged.” Polinsky glared at Rubio before looking to his left and his right, addressing Maria and then Dora. “Shall we continue?”

Across the table, Jude appeared doubtful about this whole scenario. But he closed his eyes and held the hands of his mother and sister again.

The parlor echoed with their silence…the different sounds of their breathing as they waited…for what? Again Maria sensed an unseen hand that stroked her shoulder, but she remained quiet. Was it Phillip Darington, resuming the suggestive patter they’d engaged in before the courier’s telegram made him ill?

“I ask you now, my guides, to invite Lord Darington into our midst. And through him, we might resolve this conflict with Jason, to bring him home.”

Again they waited, until Dora let out a long sigh. “Yes, I feel his presence—or at least the presence of someone very much like Lord Darington,” she breathed. Again she turned her face upward, entreating the mystical presence. “How shall we bring Jason home? How will we capture him when the port authorities have been unable to find him?”

Maria wanted to blurt out
her
opinion as though she’d heard it from above, to move these proceedings along. But she refrained. It was best to align herself with Rubio, to cooperate with Polinsky’s spirit guides.

Across from her, Jude sat bolt upright. “Yes! Yes, Father, I agree! We must sail to America at once—to work with the port authorities and capture Johnny Conn before he does anything truly detrimental. Or gets himself shot.”

Dora and Jemma sucked in their breath. Jude’s voice sounded eerily detached, as though he were merely the mouthpiece for whichever spirit had spoken.

“And what do
you
think, Maria?” Rubio queried softly. “Jason is your fiancé, after all.”

She opened her eyes, slightly dazed from her prolonged concentration. Her brother’s earnest expression urged her to speak up, but it was Jude’s changing face that sent a surge of sexual heat through her body: he opened his eyes to stare at her as though he had assumed the persona of his brother. Or was it Johnny Conn the pirate who now undressed her with his lustful gaze? The change of atmosphere felt so sudden—so direct—she squirmed in her chair. “I—my God, it’s as though Lord Darington’s here with us! He’s entered Jude’s body to address us himself!”

“Phillip?” Dora asked doubtfully.

“No, it’s Jason—the new Lord Darington! Coming through as Johnny Conn! Jude’s eyes—the sensations I feel—tell me this is exactly what’s happened!” Maria focused on Jude then, daring him to concur with her assessment…or to play along, as if he was initiating a game so things would go his way.

“I’ve heard yer cry in the night, sweet Maria, and I’ve come for ye.” Jude’s lips moved in an exaggerated way, as though he himself were not forming the words, while the voice sounded far more imperious than his own. “Ye say ye’re intent on bringin’ me back, yet here ye all sit on yer arses, mournin’ a man ye scarcely paid any heed while he was alive!”

Dora sniffed indignantly. “I beg your pardon! Phillip was the center of his family—”

“A fine thing ta say, milady. Another matter entirely, now that ye’re entertainin’ the likes of that huckster beside ye!”

Jemma giggled nervously. Maria gazed from one medium to the other: was it possible for Rubio to create this little diversion, speaking through Jude to discredit Polinsky?

“I’ll thank you to remember whose home you’re in!” Dora spouted, although she clutched Yosef’s hand more securely. “Whoever you are, be gone if you can’t speak politely of Jude and Jemma’s—and Jason’s—father!”

“Says
you
!” the voice replied in a swaggering tone. “Every one of ya at this table is keepin’ secrets—”

“And what’s
your
secret, Conn?” Rubio demanded. His voice was low and calm, as though he were accustomed to conversing with unseen entities. “Why are you attacking Darington ships? Where are you hiding your booty?”

“Maybe ye should find out fer yerself—if ye’ve the balls to make the trip!” he challenged. Jude’s face shifted into a leer that looked out of place, yet deadly serious, as he eyed each of them. “I want no part of yer whinin’ to the port authorities—crooked in their own right—if ye get to America and I don’t leap out at ye with all the answers! Take a chance!” he exclaimed with a nasty laugh. “Send Maria after me, and maybe I’ll take yer bait! Maybe…she’ll not return to ye.”

Jude shuddered and then shook his head to clear it. He gazed around the table as though he were disoriented, perhaps wondering why they were all here, holding hands. “What happened? Did I doze off, or—I’ve gotten so little sleep these past few nights, I—”

“We’re sailing as soon as possible.” Maria stood up, releasing their hands. The challenge pronounced by an unseen pirate had stirred
hope
within her, along with desires too long dormant. “You heard him yourselves, and you know it wasn’t Jude talking,” she insisted. “I for one know better than to let any more time pass before we take action.”

“But we buried Phillip—your father!—just this afternoon,” Dora reminded them in a wavering voice. “It will be seen as disrespect for his memory if we so hastily—”

“How long do you intend to wait, Mum?” Jude rose as well, a new purpose ringing in his words. “And who says you’ll be going along? Mourn if you must, but I’m sailing to America to bring my brother—now Lord Darington himself—home.”

A
s she sat facing Rubio and Jude in the carriage, Maria felt alive and purposeful again. “Rubio, be honest! Were you playing games with Polinsky? Creating the transformation we saw in Jude with your own power?”

Her brother swept his long hair back from his face, smiling. In his dashing black cape with its purple and red lining, he could have been a stage magician coming away from a very successful performance. “Does it matter?” he teased. “Did you not feel the presence of spirits in that room?”

“Well, to be honest…I’ve never been as attuned to such things as you are—not until I watched Jude’s face and voice change so dramatically, anyway.” Maria thought back to what she’d witnessed at the séance table. “I’m not sure Dora really felt anything, either.”

“I believe she was
trying
to feel an invisible presence, if only to please Polinsky,” Rubio agreed. “Nevertheless, we heard Johnny Conn’s challenge and you did the right thing, insisting we sail as soon as possible. Conn’s not the type to wait for us. He has bigger fish to fry.”

“Other ships to plunder,” Maria mused. “And other adventures to launch when he tires of this one.” She smiled at Jude, whose suggestive expression teased at her. “Did you
feel
the changes that came over you? It happened so quickly—”

“I have no idea what I did or said. It was as though I’d dozed off, yet when I came to myself again, I knew decisions had been made—and that everyone at the table had witnessed something astonishing.” He focused on her as though he was still getting his bearings. “I shall go to Father’s headquarters on the harbor and have a ship outfitted for the voyage. But if you and I sail to America, that leaves Mum and Jemma without a man to watch over them—”

Rubio snickered. “Oh, I doubt your mother shall be alone.”

“—yet I can’t insist that she go along. I don’t know that she’s ever left dry land,” he mused aloud. “And if Mum comes, my sister would. Do we want them both retching for the entire voyage? Or should they remain here to tend to the social details of Father’s passing?”

Maria nodded, following him with one part of her mind while her thoughts raced. She’d never left dry land, either, but of
course
she was going to find Johnny Conn! What woman could resist that lilting voice and the pirate behind it? It was all the proof she needed, hearing him speak through Jude: how else would that spirit know to name her specifically?

But what would happen to Miss Crimson’s column while she was away? Would anyone connect her absence in the
Inquirer
with Miss Palladino’s voyage to bring the new Lord Darington home? Maria gazed out the window, unseeing…careful not to betray her concerns to the men seated across from her. Should she hint of a holiday abroad in her next column? Inform the editor she might be away for several weeks?

“Are you getting out, dear sister? Or shall we remain in the carriage the rest of the day?”

Rubio’s voice startled her out of her woolgathering. And here came Quentin to open the carriage door…Quentin, the butler who knew the secrets she must now keep more zealously than ever.

“And how is everyone, now that Lord Darington has been laid to rest?” he inquired graciously. “My condolences to you, sir, as you mourn the passing of your father and wonder about the whereabouts of your twin—”

“Thank you, Quentin, but we have no time for tears. Jason’s spirit has instructed us to sail to America! Immediately!”

“And I’ll be going along, because he—alias Johnny Conn, the pirate—asked specifically that I come as
bait.
” As Jude helped her from the carriage, a bold new sensation made Maria look more closely at him. Was he himself again or still under the influence of that boastful buccaneer he’d channeled at the séance?

The butler chuckled slyly. “What man could resist such temptation? Doesn’t surprise me that milord stated his case that way, Miss Palladino, after the things he told me before you were to be married—all of them respectful and glowing with praise, of course,” he added quickly.

Maria blinked. What sort of cat and mouse was Quentin McCallum playing, that he spoke in such a cavalier tone? As Jude tucked her hand around his elbow, his expression bespoke an urgency, a purpose he wasn’t yet revealing, although his instruction to the butler brooked no doubts.

“McCallum, I’m counting on you to keep the town house—and Mrs. Booth—under control, the way Jason intended when he hired you. Mother’s in no condition to manage a second household—and, as we all know, Father handled the finances.” He smiled purposefully at the servant. “I’m sure we’ll all be glad to have Jason home again, as Lord Darington, because
he
will see to such everyday details as your…pay.”

Quentin’s single raised eyebrow spoke volumes. “I wish you and Miss Palladino Godspeed and all the help you need to fetch him back! I’ll remain loyally at my post no matter how long that might require.”

“Thank you, Quentin. My brother depended on you, and I’m pleased his trust was not misplaced.” Jude paused inside the town house doorway. After a moment’s thought, he addressed Rubio, who’d entered behind them. “Perhaps you’ve not considered it, but
your
presence on the voyage would be immensely helpful, Palladino. My brother revealed himself today because of
your
influence rather than any power Polinsky wielded.”

“Jason knows
I’m
not making a play for his mother.” Rubio allowed the butler to remove his cape. “And while your invitation suggests an adventure like I haven’t enjoyed in years, I have many upcoming appointments with clients to—oh my. What a wonderful likeness of Maria!”

Her brother stepped farther into the foyer to gaze at the portrait that hung above the mahogany table: in the light from the lamp, Maria’s voluminous wedding dress glowed warmly and the roses Jude had so skillfully tinted in her cheeks gave her an ethereal, angelic air. Her brother turned to look at her and then at the likeness again. “My compliments, Jude! You’ve truly outdone yourself. No doubt whatsoever about who’s the queen of
this
house!”

Maria’s cheeks tingled. While her brother often complimented her, the portrait had apparently stirred something he’d never noticed. “And thank you to Quentin for getting it hung,” she remarked. “I second Jude’s suggestion that he be entrusted with the running of this household in our absence. Mrs. Booth and I have both relied upon him to…carry on as only a younger man is able.”

As soon as the words left her mouth she realized how improper they sounded. The three men around her smiled indulgently. “Might I suggest you change into something less…funereal, dear Maria?” her brother said. “And McCallum, if you’d request some refreshment, I’ll wait in the parlor. If I meditate upon sailing to America to find Jason, perhaps I’ll receive an answer by the time you come downstairs, dear sister.”

“Excellent!” Jude loosened his tie. “Perhaps wearing Jason’s clothing will help me with our discussion, as well. I need all the assistance he can give me.” He gestured for Maria to precede him up the stairway.

As she ascended, she felt his gaze on her backside, heard his breathing accelerate more than climbing the stairs required. His reason for changing clothes made perfect sense: who wanted to wear black as they planned a voyage? Yet Maria sensed an ulterior motive—

Jude pinned her against the wall as they stepped beyond the first landing. “I don’t know how you do it, minx,” he murmured as he reached up her skirts. “Ever since Father’s service, I’ve wanted to yank down your—”

She gasped as her opera drawers landed around her ankles.

“—and bury myself inside your hot, wet cunt.”

The words struck like lightning, words spoken the way Jason would’ve said them—made more dangerous because their voices echoed in the stairwell. “Jude, really!” she whispered, pointing frantically toward the first floor. “What if Mrs.—?”

“Yes, really! And quickly! Quentin and your brother know damn well why I wanted to change clothes, so let’s not keep them waiting.” His eyes glowed in the dimness of the upstairs hall as he helped her step out of her drawers. “If this isn’t what you want, you’d better speak up, Maria. I’ve had to be so
fucking
patient since Jason disappeared, because Mother’s watched me like a hawk! Do you know how badly I
need
you, Maria?”

Had his words goaded her? Or was it the desperation with which he spoke them? Jude had always been the more sensitive, lingering lover, yet this risky opportunity made her pulse race. The day before her wedding, when she’d bedded both brothers, seemed like a distant dream…she’d spent so many nights alone in this house where other bedsprings creaked and other lovers met each other’s needs….

When Jude sent her black veiled hat sailing up the stairs ahead of them, her heart soared with it. Too long she’d gone without this sort of play. “In here!” she whispered, motioning toward the bathroom. “Jason’s bedroom is directly above the parlor and mine’s above the dining room, so—”

Jude steered her ahead of him, into the little room where he’d wooed her on the eve of her ill-fated wedding. Instinctively they moved, latching both bedroom doors and then tossing towels to the floor to muffle their movements. With a wicked grin, Maria twisted the sink spigots, so the water gurgled in the drain. “Here’s to a few moments of clean living,” she quipped. “How shall we do this?”

Her lover glanced at the bathtub, the water closet, and then the large cabinet where linens were stored. “Off with your dress!” he whispered. “No more of this awful black garb, when pale pink skin becomes you so much better.”

“Off with your clothes, too! We came upstairs to change, after all.” Maria quickly unbuttoned the fitted gown of black bombazine, watching as Jude’s somber suit coat and trousers landed on hooks beside the door. He’d shrugged out of his white shirt and was peeling down his union suit by the time she stepped out of her dress: the flush in his cheeks matched the heat she felt in her own face…the illicit excitement of sating each other’s hunger while her brother awaited them made her throb all over. She widened her eyes, asking what came next.

Jude gazed avidly at her: she was clad only in her black stockings, pumps, and a fancy corset from her trousseau. “Up you go,” he murmured as he lifted her to sit on the linen cabinet. “Why haven’t we thought of this before? This is precisely the right height—”

Maria spread her bare thighs and tipped back in his embrace. Her pulse pounded so loudly she wondered if anyone downstairs could hear it.

He stepped in and stopped with the tip of his cock in position. “Damn, but you’re lovely, woman. And such a sport about it, too, that I—”

She pulled him into a kiss that made them both squirm. Their impassioned sighs mingled with the gurgling of the water as they rubbed their bodies together. The rasp of his coarse hair against her silk corset only inflamed her more, and his skin felt like warm velvet as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. His cock teased at her curls, prodding her mound while denying her that surge of entry she sought. Despite the need for speed, Maria allowed herself to exhilarate in Jude’s affection—and in his brazen way of expressing it.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if we
didn’t
find Jason,” Jude murmured.

“But we will,” she assured him between kisses, “and the three of us will continue as lovers. But right now it’s
you
I need, Jude. I’m so wet I might slip off the cabinet—”

She stifled her gasp against his bare shoulder as he plunged inside her, tipping her back to find the best angle. Biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut, Jude concentrated on stroking her with his cock. Maria clutched his shoulders to suspend her body so the cabinet wouldn’t bump and creak. He felt needy, this man who’d claimed her so quickly. Jude rode her faster, stiffening with the intensity of holding back, of remaining quiet as he thrust and then eased away…thrust and then—

“I want to feel you squirt, hot and hard,” she muttered near his ear. “Want you to spasm deep inside me, like a dog rutting a bitch in heat—clutching and fucking—knowing she won’t let go of his red-hot cock until he’s satisfied her. And then—”

“Jesus God, Maria!” Jude held her hard against his body as he rocked relentlessly, caught in the throes of an orgasm that triggered her own.

Maria ground her hips against his, inhaling hard to keep from screaming, flying on the verge of absolute madness until his low gasps subsided. Together they caught their breath, careful not to knock against the cabinet.

“We’d better dress—”

“By now they’re wondering where we are and—”

“Begging your pardon, Miss Palladino. Would you like lemon cakes with your tea, or the fresh jelly tarts I baked this morning?”

Maria gaped at Jude as his grip tightened around her. She pried herself from his arms to turn off the water. “Yes! Both!” she exclaimed toward her bedroom. “Thank you for asking, Mrs. Booth.”

Was that a sly chuckle coming from the other side of the door? “And do you suppose Mr. Darington would enjoy fresh strawberries with clotted cream?”

As Jude opened his mouth, Maria clapped her hand over it. “Yes, please! Strawberries would be
lovely!
”

“The least I can do, considering all the shock and sadness of these past few days.”

Why didn’t the damn housekeeper leave her to that shock and sadness, then? Step away from the door and go downstairs?

As if you don’t know! How will you face her, knowing she’ll remark about—

“Mr. Darington, sir, shall I find you a fresh shirt and trousers from Jason’s armoire while you’re washing up?” Quentin spoke from Jason’s room, and as she and Jude scrambled for the same washcloth, Maria swore the butler was laughing. In cohoots with Mrs. Booth, no doubt—and, for all they knew, the two servants had been listening at the bathroom doors for several minutes. Jude covered his own mouth this time, nodding at the door where the housekeeper might still be hovering.

“Thank you, Quentin,” Maria replied with exaggerated patience. “I’m sure he’ll choose something when he returns. Gentleman that he is, he’s allowed me to freshen myself first.”