The Viscount's Addiction (8 page)

down the column. The numbers were suspiciously neat as though written with a feminine hand. His heart sank. Henry was on the verge of lunacy and Lewis was not clever enough, which left only one culprit. His little temptress was not only a thief but the actual brains behind embezzling his estate.

His frustration grew as he labored over the books. He should be riding to fetch the constable to have her arrested. Instead he found himself thinking, as Lewis must, of what could still be looted from the house to fulfill his desires. He supposed that once a man’s world had narrowed to a dank cell his priorities changed. Suddenly wealth seemed of little matter compared to the sexual satisfaction he derived from touching his wife. Thrusting into her tight cunt was the most delicious sensation he’d ever experienced. Thief or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to give her up so soon. The pleasure she gave him was too great. It seemed he had two habits to feed now.

He leaned back in his chair and jerked the bellpull. Impatient, he rang without pause until it brought her scurrying to the study.

“Your majesty rang?” she said with an adorable frown. She stole his breath with her brightness, her beauty. Her simple pale green dress clung to her curves so enticingly he wanted to take her right there on his father’s desk. He had to remind himself that beneath the surface there was nothing sweet about her.

“Lord Blackwood, you look ashen. Perhaps you’d like me to open some windows and let some morning coolness in,” she said, her tone gentling.

“Leave the windows alone.” Because he hadn’t indulged his habit, he was feeling miserable. His limbs felt weak, sweat trickled down his back and his head was starting to pound. He feared the chill air would only intensify the pain.

He tossed the book away. “I see you’ve been keeping the accounts.” With an angry flourish of his hand he pointed out the empty walls of the room. “The question that remains is what the holy hell did you do with all the money?”

“The money?” she asked with an innocent blink of her eyes. “The fortune you’ve stolen from me.”

“I’ve stolen nothing,” she insisted. Her thighs were now pressed lightly against the front of the desk. A pale gold tendril of hair had escaped the loose chignon. She brushed it off her face, a common enough gesture, yet completely provocative when she did it.

He tapped the ledgers. “Liar. The proof is all here.” He was angry as hell at her and yet his hard cock throbbed with need. “And I intend on recouping my losses.” He

motioned her closer with the crook of his finger. With cautious steps, she came around to his side of the desk. When she was close enough, he lifted her skirt and thin petticoat and slid his hands up the backs of her smooth thighs. She closed her eyes for a moment and swayed slightly as if she were dizzy. Then she looked down at him with huge, almond-shaped eyes that nearly melted him into a puddle in his father’s chair.

“To start to repay me, little witch, why don’t you do what you do best?” He moved his hands higher, cupping her naked bottom.

“And just what is it that I do best, my lord?” she asked breathlessly.

“You make me hard.” He grabbed her hand and placed it on his bulging crotch.

She shoved herself away from him. “I have other talents, as well.” She walked over to a cabinet beneath the window and unlocked it. Ryder adjusted the tight fit of his pantaloons as she bent over and reached into the cabinet. She slammed a pile of ledgers on the desk in front of him.

“What are these?”

“Those, Lord Blackwood, are the real books. I think you will find that you are still a very wealthy man.”

Confused, he opened the first book and began adding up the columns. After a few minutes he looked up at her. “I don’t understand. How is this possible?” he asked.

“Well, before I became just an inspiration for your cock, I made certain that your relatives did not deplete the entire estate. Armed with the marriage certificate, your uncle moved us into the manor and immediately dismissed the land steward. Henry soon grew bored of trying to make sense of the numbers. So given the opportunity I took over and created a set of fake books showing little or no money in the accounts. Then I kept the actual accounts hidden. It was very easy to fool them both.”

Ryder relaxed back in the chair. She glared at him with her beautiful green eyes like a furious feline. He regretted his rude comments. But it was his way of defending himself against her overwhelming appeal. He skimmed over the books once more then returned his gaze to her face. “My God, woman, you are a genius.”

She smiled now, and he caught a glimpse of a dimple creasing her smooth, creamy cheek.

“I daresay, saving the estate would certainly have paid off when you became my widow. You would have been entitled to a third interest in my lands.”

Her adorable smile faded with his last mean-spirited comment.

“How dare you ascribe such treacherous motives to me! I was an innocent fifteen year old at the time the marriage was forced on me.”

“In prison I met boys of that tender age who would slit a person’s throat for pocket change.”

Her beautiful eyes ignited with anger again. “When I vacate Tesslyn Hall, whether it is to prison or the streets, I want nothing of yours.”

Though he felt perfectly entitled to complain about their union, he did not care a bit for her complete rejection of it. He reached for the next ledger, and his hand trembled from the lack of opium. It did not escape her notice. Now he wanted her to leave. “You might as well return to your garden. You’re of no use to me with your clothes on.”

“Bloody grand. I falsify the books so that the entire estate could not be gambled away, and now the whole thing will be wiped out by your despicable vice.”

With a flourish, he took a draft of the laudanum. “I will spend my money on whatever I like. I may even replace you with a whore more to my pleasing.” As soon as he said the words, he wished he could retrieve them. She looked startled, as if he’d slapped her.

“I am not a whore,” she said, her chin quivering, “but you, sir, are no better than the other two craven, selfish men that live in this house. And at least they don’t hide behind an opium bottle.”

He slammed his fist on the desk. She flinched. “They did not waste five years of their lives in the bowels of Hades.”

“You will get no sympathy from me. You now have every opportunity to regain the life you once had. And as for the new whore, I will make it easier for you to replace me. I will leave as soon as I secure lodging elsewhere.”

Her threat brought him to his feet. It mattered little that he’d provoked her response with his vicious language. “You, madam, are far from the mistress of your own destiny. And I do not give a good goddamn why you signed that marriage document. Forced or not, it is a finished deed.”

“By your own reckoning, I believe that I have twenty eight days left of service to you.” She curtsied deeply. “Somehow I will manage to last it out.”

Mesmerized by the slight sway of her hips, he watched as she glided from the room. Service to him, he thought with fury. Bloody fine, let her consider it a duty, but there would be no reprieve after a mere month.

Jessie was nearly breathless with fury as she hurried over the lawn. He was a ruthless bastard, and she needed to get as far away from this place as she could. She had many domestic skills. Surely someone would take her in as a servant. Her father had educated her well; perhaps even a position as a governess might be possible. One thing was certain, she needed to find a way to dissolve the marriage.

“Jessie!” Lewis’s snide tone assaulted her from behind. “The man will come see the horse in a half hour. Have the beast ready to be shown.”

She did not bother to respond. She lifted her skirts and raced to the barn.

Jessie picked up the brush. She cursed Lord Blackwood with each exuberant stroke of the horse’s black coat. Unwanted memories from their night together filtered through her angry thoughts. Every place he had touched still tingled with pleasure. He was an expert with his fingers and mouth. She’d actually woken this morning with the mad thought that somehow the marriage could work, that she could make him happy. But obviously he hated her even more than his wretched cousin. Besides, she’d already concluded that the man did not have the capacity for happiness.

She grabbed Titus’s lead rope and walked toward his massive head. She stood on tiptoes and clasped his nose between her hands, planting a loud kiss on it. “Now you know what to do, my love, and make it good.” She gave him a hearty pat on the neck and led him outside having, as usual, to quicken her own pace to keep up with his long strides.

She tied the horse to the outside post and looked toward the house. No sign of Lewis yet—and then she faltered, nearly falling in front of her massive horse. Lord Blackwood stood on the small bluff overlooking the pasture. His shirt hung open revealing his muscular chest. His shoulders were massive. He swung an axe with amazing force as he chopped at a fallen tree. His strength demonstrated how much hard labor he must have

done. She was certain the scars that crisscrossed the skin of his chest were another Newgate souvenir.

She knew a little of his history, knew that he’d had a reputation as a rakehell. He’d probably never cleared a tree from his land before prison. He propped the axe on his shoulder and shielded his eyes as he looked in the direction of the barn. They stared at each other across the pasture for a long moment before she pretended to busy herself with Titus’s mane.

Hearing the clatter of horses on the drive, she turned and watched the carriage approach. The instant the passenger, a short, rotund man, descended the carriage steps Lewis came scampering across the lawn to greet him. The prospective buyer had a malicious frown on his face. He appeared the incarnation of cruelty.

As they neared, Jessie untied her gelding and gave him a slight nod. Titus stepped forward with one feathered hoof then took a quick short step with the other. The horse’s head jerked up and down with each movement. He repeated this hobbled gait for several more steps. The buyer and Lewis stopped abruptly a short distance away. The man’s mouth tightened into a thin, vicious line. Lewis’s pinched face grew red. He placed a placating hand on the man’s arm. The man shrugged off Lewis’s hand and screamed curses at him before pivoting on his heels and marching back to his conveyance.

Lewis stomped toward her. “You bitch! I will kill that worthless animal and sell him for—” His tirade was cut short by a large hand landing with a thud on his shoulder. With a start he turned around to face his cousin.

Lord Blackwood’s expression was unforgiving. His icy stare could have frightened a dead man. With shock, Jessie realized she wasn’t looking at an aristocrat, but at a hardened convict.

He shoved up his shirtsleeves in an ominous gesture. “Say that again and I will wrap that tongue of yours around your throat.”

“Awfully protective. As if you care a damn about her.” Lewis backed up a step. “She owes me. If she’d climbed into my bed as easily as she had yours, the debt would have been paid long ago.” His voice rose to a nearly hysterical pitch.

“Haven’t you any sense, Lewis?” Jessie shouted.

Lord Blackwood glanced at her and raised an annoyed brow before smashing his fist into Lewis’s jaw. The crunch was sickening. Lewis dropped to his knees and moaned like a wounded animal.

Jessie cringed, but she was hardly feeling any compassion for the fool. After all, she’d tried to warn him. Lewis’s wailing grew louder. Jessie hated to think what damage Lord Blackwood would have inflicted if he hadn’t been mellowed by laudanum. Wanting to be out of earshot, she moved herself and her horse away from the confrontation.

Lord Blackwood yanked Lewis to his feet by the lapels of his coat. It was evident angry words were still being exchanged. No, not exchanged, she decided. It was Lord Blackwood doing all the talking. Eventually, Lewis, cradling his chin, slouched off like a scolded little boy. But the completely composed Lord Blackwood headed in her direction. It felt as if her heart were skipping beats. Damn him for always making her so nervous.

Without a word to her, he stopped in front of the horse and stroked its shoulder. He then proceeded to rub his hands up and down the horse’s front legs. “So I was right about Lewis trying to coerce sexual favors. This I can almost forgive him. What man would have the willpower to deny himself such a temptation?” He straightened and patted Titus on the neck. “Interesting, even to keep your beloved horse you refused him.”

“It must do wonders for your male conceit knowing you needed only a piece of paper to coerce me into your bed.”

He had the nerve to grin. “Where is his bridle?” he asked while still looking the animal over.

“I beg your pardon, my lord?”

He glanced at her. His violet-tinged eyes raked up and down her body before settling on her face. “His bridle? What do you ride him in? I would like to try out the horse I bought and check out this curious limp he seems to have.” He punctuated his words with a cocky, white smile so devastatingly charming, it robbed her of breath.

“You bought my horse?” she said, her voice rising in a squeak.

“No,” he said calmly as he began walking to the barn. “I bought my cousin’s horse.” She put her hands on her hips. “How dare you buy my—his horse.”

He reappeared a short time later with a bridle hanging over his shoulder. “I suppose I’ll hop on him without a saddle.”

She could not suppress a mischievous grin. “You may certainly try, my lord, but I must warn you that Titus hates men. He’ll throw you before you go three paces.”

He looked down at the lush grass and shrugged. “The ground looks soft enough. I’ll take my chances.”

Jessie watched with awe as he bridled a surprisingly compliant Titus. He grabbed a handful of the long, wavy mane and vaulted effortlessly onto the horse’s back. Certain that her horse would throw a tantrum with this male stranger sitting astride, Jessie quickly backed away. She had to admit, though, that the two made a magnificent pair. Lord Blackwood walked the horse a few steps then coaxed him easily into a trot. The feathers on Titus’s legs vibrated with each high step. Lord Blackwood handled the animal expertly. His cue for Titus to canter was so subtle Jessie didn’t even catch it. The man knew how to sit a horse like no one else she had ever seen. The wind whipped his glossy black hair as he maneuvered the massive Shire around the field in a consistent circle.