The Duke’s Obsession Bundle (31 page)

“You said it yourself,” Stull shot back, “women between the ages of fifteen and eighteen will change, delightfully so to my way of thinking.”

“So go on. If you’re so convinced that’s Morgan, trot along. Confirm your hunch.”

Stull gave him the mean look a grossly fat boy will often show when taunted then sighed.

“It is too hot,” Stull conceded. “If she’s in the area, she’ll be back here. The park is the only decent air to
be had in this miserable city. I’m parched—what say we find us a flagon or two of summer ale and perhaps the wenches that happily serve it?”

“A pint or two sounds just the thing,” Helmsley said, knowing Stull, true to his two consistent virtues, would pay for it. “And perhaps we can find someone to watch for your girls in the park. I still have their miniatures.”

“Good idea. Put the common man to work and let us do the thinking. What was the name of that inn where we saw the one with the big…?” He cupped his hands over his chest and wiggled his eyebrows.

“The Happy Pig,” Helmsley sighed. It would be The Happy Pig. “I’m sure we can find a couple of sharp eyes there, maybe more than a couple.”

For Anna, the week was passing too quickly. In her mind, the duke’s health would be resolved in those seven days, giving him either a cheerful or a grim prognosis. Westhaven was gone during most of the days, spending time with his parents and sisters, tending to business, dashing out to Willow Bend, or riding in the mornings with his brothers.

But the nights… it had been two nights and three mornings since they’d become lovers in fact, and Anna had all she could do to stumble around the house, appearing to tend to her duties. She was swamped with Gayle Windham, her senses overwhelmed with memories of his tenderness, passion, humor, and generosity in bed. He insisted she find her pleasure, early and often. He talked to her before, during,
and after their lovemaking. He teased and comforted and aroused and asked no questions other than what pleased her and what did not.

It all pleased her. She sighed, frowning at the flowers she was trying to arrange in the library’s raised fireplace. Normally, she could arrange a bouquet to her satisfaction without thought, the patterns simply working themselves out. This morning, the daisies and irises were being contrary, and the thought of Westhaven’s hand clamped on her buttocks was only part of the problem.

She heard the door open and assumed Morgan was bringing in fresh water, so she didn’t turn.

“Now this is a fetching sight. I don’t suppose the buttons of your bodice are going to get stuck in the screen?” Anna sat back on her heels and looked up at Westhaven looming over her. He stretched down a hand and hauled her up, bringing her flush against his body.

“Hello, sweetheart.” He smiled then brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Miss me?”

She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“How is your father?” she asked as she always did.

“Improving, I’d say.” But her unwillingness to return his sentiments bothered him, and that showed in his eyes. “I met with Hazlit,” the earl said, letting Anna walk out of his embrace.

“You did?”

“I got nowhere.” Westhaven sat down on the sofa and tugged off his boots. “He is an interesting man—very dark, almost swarthy. It is rumored his
grandmother was a Jewess, rumored he is in line for some Scottish title, rumored he is filthy rich.” He sat back and stacked his boots beside the sofa. “I’ll tell you what is true: That man has the presentation of a cool demeanor down to a science, Anna. He gave away exactly nothing but told me to call again in a few days, thank you very much. He will call on Her Grace and hear from her in person that I am to be trusted with her confidences.”

“Her Grace hasn’t given you the substance of his investigation?”
I don’t have a few more days to tarry
, Anna silently wailed.

“He does not write down his findings,” the earl explained, “and he made the appointment to call on Her Grace, and then my father fell ill. He will reschedule the appointment, and Mother will receive him immediately.”

“You could simply join that appointment.”

“And give the appearance that I am coercing my mother?” the earl countered. “I wish it were simpler, but that man will not be bullied.”

“One wonders how such an odd character would winkle secrets out of my dour Yorkshiremen.”

“So you are from Yorkshire,” the earl replied just as Anna’s hand flew to her lips. “Anna…” His voice was tired, and his eyes were infinitely sad and patient.

“I’m sorry.” Anna felt tears welling and turned away. “I always get like this when my courses are looming.”

“Come here.” The earl extended a hand, and Anna’s feet moved without her willing it, until she was sitting beside him, his arm around her shoulders. For a long, thoughtful moment he merely held her and stroked
her back. “I will meet with Hazlit in a day or two, Anna. What he knows will soon be known to me; I’d rather hear it from you.”

She nodded but said nothing, trying to pick through which parts of her story she could bear to tell and how to separate them from the rest. She shifted to the rocking chair, and he let her go, which was good, as she’d be better able to think if they weren’t touching.

“I can tell you some of it,” she said slowly. “Not all.”

“I will fetch us some lemonade while you organize your thoughts. I want to hear whatever you want to tell me, Anna.”

When he came back with the drinks, Anna was rocking slowly, her expression composed.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” The earl handed her a glass. “I put some sugar in it, but not as much as I put in mine.” He locked the door then resumed his seat on the sofa and regarded the woman he loved, the woman who could not trust him.

Since their first encounter several days ago, Anna had not repeated her declaration of love, and he had not raised the topic of her virginity. The moment had never been right, and he wasn’t sure explanations mattered. Many unmarried housekeepers were addressed as Mrs., and the single abiding fact was that she’d chosen to give him her virginity.
Him.

“So what can you tell me?” he asked, sitting back and regarding her. She was beautiful but also tired. He was keeping her up nights, and he knew she wasn’t sleeping well in his bed. In sleep, she clung to him, shifting her position so she was spooned around him or he around her.

In sleep, he thought a little forlornly, she trusted him.

“When my grandfather died and my grandmother fell ill,” Anna began, staring at her drink as she rocked, “things at home became difficult. Grandpapa was a very good and shrewd manager, and funds were left that would have been adequate, were they properly managed. My brother was not a good manager.”

Westhaven waited, trying to hear her words and not simply be distracted by the lovely sound of her voice.

“My grandmother encouraged me to take Morgan and flee, at least until Grandmother could meet with the solicitors and figure out a way to get my brother under control. But she was very frail after her apoplexy.”

“You came south, then?” The earl frowned in thought, considering two gently bred and very young women traveling without escort far, far from home. Morgan in particular would have been little more than a child and much in need of assistance when away from familiar surroundings.

“We came south.” Anna nodded. “My grandmother was able to provide me with some references written by her old acquaintances, people who knew me as a child, and I registered with the employment agencies here under an assumed name.”

“Is Anna Seaton your real name?”

“Mostly. I am Anna, and my sister is Morgan.”

He let that go, glad at least he was wasn’t calling her by a false name when passion held him in its thrall. “You found employment.”

“I took the job no one else wanted, keeping house
for an old Hebrew gentleman. He was my own personal miracle, that bone the Almighty throws you to suggest you are not entirely forgotten in the supposedly merciful scheme of things.”

“The old Hebrew gentleman was decent to you?” the earl asked, more relieved than he could say to realize whatever price Anna had paid for her decisions, she’d kept her virtue until such time as she chose to share it with him.

“Mr. Glickmann knew immediately Morgan and I were, as he put, in flight. He had scars, Westhaven, from his own experiences with prejudice and mean-spiritedness. He’d been tossed into jail on flimsy pretexts, hounded from one village to another, beaten… He knew what it meant, to live always looking over your shoulder, always worrying, and he gave us the benefit of his experience. He told me the rules for surviving under those circumstances, and those rules have saved us.”

“And is one of those rules to trust no one?”

“It might as well be. I trusted him, though, and if he’d only lived longer, then perhaps he might have been able to help us further. But his life had been hard, and his health was frail. Still, he gave us both glowing characters and left us each the kind of modest bequest a trusted servant might expect. That money has been sent from heaven, just as his characters were.”

She fell silent, and Westhaven considered her story thus far. Difficult, he tried to tell himself, and sad, but hardly tragic. Still, the what ifs beat at him: What if the job nobody wanted had been working for a philandering lecher? What if they’d been snatched
up and befriended by an abbess upon their arrival to London? What if Morgan’s deafness had meant no jobs presented themselves?

“Go on,” Westhaven said, more to cut off his own lurid imagination than because he wanted to hear more.

“From Glickmann’s,” Anna continued, “I got employment in the home of a wealthy merchant, but his oldest son was not to be trusted, so I cast around and found your position. The woman the agency picked for the position was at the last minute unable to serve, as she was sorely afflicted with influenza. Rather than make you wait while they interviewed other more suitable candidates, they sent me over, despite my lack of experience and standing.”

“Thank God they did,” the earl muttered. Anna’s fate was hanging by threads and coincidences, with social prejudice, influenza, and pluck standing between her and tragedy.

“What of your brother?” he asked, rolling back his cuffs. “I gather he is part of the problem rather than part of the solution?”

“He is,” Anna said, the tart rejoinder confirming the earl’s suspicions.

“And you aren’t going to tell me the rest of it?”

“I cannot. Grandmother has bound me to silence, not wanting to see the family name dragged through scandal.” The earl stifled the urge to roll his eyes and go on a loud rant about the folly of sacrificing one’s name for the sake of family pride.

“Anna.” He sat forward. “You have no idea—none at all—how lucky you are not to be serving men in doorways for a penny a poke, you and Morgan both,
as the pox slowly killed you. Sending you south was rank foolishness, and I can only consider your grandmother devised this scheme because she considered the situation desperate.”

“It was,” Anna said, “and I do know, Westhaven. I have seen those women, their skirts hiked over their backs, their eyes dead, their lives already done while some jolly fellow bends them over to have a go before toddling home after his last pint.”

If she’d been close enough to see that much, Westhaven thought… Ye gods.

“Let me hold you,” he said, rising and tugging her to her feet. “When you are ready, I will hear the rest of it, Anna. You are safe with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

She went into his arms willingly, but he could feel the resistance in her, the doubt, the unwillingness to trust. He led her up the stairs, her hand in his, determined to bind her to him with passion if nothing else.

Each time they were together, he introduced her to new pleasures, new touches, new ways to move. Tonight, he put her on her hands and knees and had her grip the headboard as he sank into her deeply from behind. She met him thrust for thrust, and when her pleasure had her convulsing hard around his cock, he couldn’t hold back any longer. And like a stallion, he let his spent weight cover her, resting along her back, his cheek pressed to her spine.

“Down,” he panted, easing one of her feet back several inches to explain himself. Anna straightened her knees and slipped to her stomach as his cock slid
wetly from her body. He followed her, blanketing her back with his greater weight.

“Are you all right?” He kissed her cheek and paused to suckle her earlobe.

“I am boneless,” Anna murmured. “I like this, though.”

“What this?” He nuzzled at her neck.

“The way you like to cuddle afterward.”

“I am a rarity in that regard,” he assured her. “I know of only one other person in this entire bed so prone to shameless displays of affection.” His moved his hips partly off her but shifted only a little to the side to kiss her nape.

“You trust me,” he said, biting her neck gently.

When she said nothing, he got off the bed to use the basin and water. He washed his hands and his genitals then came back and stood frowning at her for a long moment.

“You do trust me, but only in this,” he said again. “You would let me take you in any position, anywhere I pleased, as often as I pleased.”