Wickeds Scandal (The Wickeds) (22 page)

 “Oh, my.”

The thumb suddenly stopped its ministrations.

Alexandra wanted to scream in
frustration.  Was he stopping?  Like an animal she moved her hips
towards his hand seeking, wanting. 

The two fingers inside her,
wiggled. 

“Oh God,
please
Sutton.”   

“Please what, sweetheart?”

Her heart flipped at hearing the
endearment from his lips. Her nipples hard and sensitive begged for his
ministrations.  Alexandra would burst if he didn’t touch her again.

She sobbed.  “I don’t know what I
want.  I don’t know what to ask for.”

“Tell me you want me.  I want to
hear you say it.”

His tongue flicked lightly against the
sensitive numb.  His fingers, still buried deep within her, moved in time
with his tongue. 

She thrust herself against his
mouth. 

Sutton held her firmly.  The tongue
flicked and retreated.  The ache built inside her, needy, demanding. 

Alexandra’s muscles clenched around his
fingers, “Please.”  She wanted his mouth on her again.

“Say it.”  His tongue rasped against
her flesh.  “Say it or I’ll stop.” The sensation traveled all the way down
her body.  She heard herself moan.

“I want you. Only you.”  She said it
as if she were begging for food.  As if she were burning in flames and
only he could rescue her. 

His mouth settled back over her as he
thrust a third finger deep into her.  Alexandra cried out.  The
intensity of his fingers and the stroke of his tongue gave way to a fine,
intense pinpoint of pleasure.  Her body tensed.  The pressure of his
mouth increased, his fingers thrust into her.

  A white hot, bolt of intense
ecstasy, shot through her.  Wave upon wave of pleasure so powerful, so
forceful, that she cried out.  Nothing she'd ever read, nor any cautionary
tale heard from her Aunt Eloise, had prepared Alexandra for the wealth of
pleasure she experienced at Sutton’s touch. 

“Sutton, Sutton.”  She sobbed his
name, her heart and body filled with this man.  Only, this man. 

He clasped her tightly.  His tongue
continued to stroke her until her body stopped its wild movements.

The sensations faded.  The jerking
of her body stopped.  She felt bloodless, boneless, limp and weak. 
If he hadn’t held her, she would likely have collapsed into a heap on the
floor.

His hands left her body.  A kiss
pressed against her womanhood.  Then the kisses moved down her leg, as he
carefully retied her drawers and lowered her skirt.  He murmured something
against her thigh in a soothing tone. His lips touched her thigh in
reverence.  Breathing heavily, his fingers trailed down her leg to her
ankle. 

Sutton grabbed her hand and pressed it
against the arousal in his trousers.

Alexandra didn’t flinch.  Instead
she traced the hard, uncompromising shape with her fingers. 

He groaned, the sound loud and
male.  He brushed his mouth against hers.

She could taste herself on his lips.

  Standing, he held her in his arms.
 One hand stroked the side of her neck.  He whispered dark, erotic
words of the pleasure he wished them to find together.

She nestled closer to his chest, wishing
for this to never end.  Ashamed and broken with the knowledge of what she
needed to tell him, she pulled from his arms.  She was betrothed to a man
Sutton hated.  He would never forgive her. 

 
“Alex?  What is it Badger?”  He grasped her
shoulders in the darkness, the fingers gently fitting the buttons of her
bodice.  “Did I hurt you?”

Alexandra made a small cry of
distress.  

“Sutton.”  She cleared her throat
and pushed his hands away.  She couldn’t make him out in the darkness, but
she sensed he was frowning at her, perplexed by her attitude.  “I must
tell you.  Please try to understand –“

Sutton backed away from her so violently
his large body collided with the shelves behind him.  Cleaning supplies
fell to the floor. 

”Alex.  What have you done?” he
rasped.

“You need to understand.  People
depend on me.  People –“

“Runyon.  You have
betrothed
yourself to Runyon.” 

Alexandra made tiny sobbing noises, her
heart breaking apart like a glass vase someone had dashed against a stone
floor.  “Please let me explain.  I deserve your disgust. 
Truly.”  Tears ran down her face.  “But Helmsby Abbey.  My home. 
I had no choice, don’t you see?  There is no one else.  He
promised….”  She babbled, sounding like a lunatic in Bedlam.

“You are marrying him for a
farm
?” 
He shoved her against the wall, hurting her. “You scoffed at my offer, made me
feel as if I was the very epitome of depravity, for even suggesting that the
innocent Alexandra Dunforth be my mistress.”

“I thought you toyed with me.  I
know now that’s –“

 He continued as if she hadn’t
spoken.  “What a pity I didn’t know your price to become a whore was an
acre of dirt in Hampshire.  The highly principled Miss Dunforth.  In
the end, you are exactly like every other woman I know. You are just much
cheaper
.”

“Please, Sutton.  Listen to me.”

“You would rather be Runyon’s
whore?  Then so be it.”  Sutton snarled. “To think I actually
considered –“ His words ended abruptly.

Alexandra shook her head.  Her blood
drummed in her ears.  “It’s not like that.  I need to make you see -”

“Shut up.” He grabbed her chin roughly,
turning her head so that he could whisper in her ear, his tone full of
disgust.  “No better than a
whore
.” He dropped her chin as if the
feel of her flesh tarnished him.  “Is that what you were doing that day at
my grandmother’s?  Did you think to tell her I seduced you so you could
negotiate for your farm?  No wonder you were so surprised when I
appeared.  I scuttled your plans didn’t I?” 

Pain and hurt roared through Alexandra,
making her stomach twist into knots.  
I will not survive this
. 
I cannot listen to any more
.  A horrible retching sound came from
her mouth.  She opened the closet door and picked up her skirts. Her eyes
filled with tears, blinding her, as she stumbled out into the hallway. 
She ran full tilt into someone who held her by the shoulders.  Miranda.

“Alexandra!  What’s happened?” 
Miranda’s brow furrowed in surprise as she looked at Alexandra.  She
quickly leaned over, adjusting Alexandra’s bodice.  “Oh, Alexandra.”

  Alexandra shook her head. 
“Oh God, what have I done?”

“Look at me Alexandra,” Miranda said in a
low tone, “others are watching.”

Lord Tasterly, from behind Miranda,
cleared his throat.  “Lady Reynolds, your brother is here.”

“Miranda,” Alexandra whispered, “I need
to leave.  Please, away from everyone.  Especially your
brother.”  She was dying inside.  Her heart would stop beating. 
Her noble sacrifice on behalf of Helmsby Abbey brought her little comfort. 
She destroyed her heart’s desire.  How could she marry Mr. Runyon? 
How could she not?

Miranda straightened, shielding
Alexandra’s much smaller body with her own.  “It’s all right,” she said to
the small group that rounded the corner of the exhibition. “A snake in the exhibition
startled Miss Dunforth.  I believe she’s turned her ankle.”

Someone in the crowd gave a gasp of
fright.  Alexandra thought it sounded like Lady Atkins.

“Come Miss Dunforth, Lord Tasterly will
see you to my carriage.”  Miranda waved at Lord Tasterly.  “My lord,
would you assist us?” 

“Of course!”  He choked out, sparing
a glance at Lord Reynolds, to see if the Marquess would disagree.

Alexandra wanted to cry out that Sutton
would not object, in fact, she was quite certain Sutton could care less whether
she expired on the spot or not. Grief wracked Alexandra’s body.  She shook
uncontrollably.

Gingerly, Miranda led Alexandra away to
the main hall, assisted by Lord Tasterly.  Alexandra heard Lord Tasterly
murmur a ‘my lord’ as they passed Lord Reynolds.  She did not look up.

Sutton did not attempt to stop
them. 

Miranda made soothing sounds as she led
Alexandra towards the main entrance.  “I will have the Cambourne coach
take you home."

Every step took Alexandra farther from
Sutton.   She’d misjudged him.  Loss, dark and gaping, smothered
her, taking her breath away.  She stumbled.

Miranda caught her and gently placed
Alexandra inside the Cambourne coach. “Please see Miss Dunforth home, Waldo,”
she instructed the groom. “You may return for Lord Reynolds and myself,
later.”   Miranda squeezed Alexandra’s hand.  She looked over
her shoulder at her brother, who watched them with hooded eyes from the
entrance.   “Alexandra?” She lowered her voice so Waldo did not over
hear. “What happened to leave you in such a state?”

Alexandra blinked back tears.  She
would brave this out.    Her chin lifted.  “I simply
informed Lord Reynolds of my betrothal to Mr. Runyon.”

Miranda said nothing.  She swallowed
hard.  “Oh no, Alexandra.”  Miranda’s lovely face crumpled.  She
shook her head and disengaged Alexandra’s hands from her own.  Waldo shut
the carriage door.  Alexandra could stand it no longer.  She began to
weep.

                                                                        ***

Damn her!  His mind refused to
accept the truth of Alex’s words.  Refused to acknowledge the anguish her
words caused to his heart.  He convinced himself it was only that he was
thwarted in his lust.  There were many women in the world.  He did
not need to suffer the loss of a temperamental spinster from Hampshire. 
Alexandra was like every other woman.  Runyon simply made her a better
offer.  Sutton merely made a mistake. Alexandra was not different. 
Providence allowed him to find out before he made an ass of himself. 
Sutton made the incorrect assumption that Alexandra wanted
him
. 
Not the Marquess of Cambourne.  Not Satan Reynolds. 
Him
. 
Pity he didn’t know earlier her price was a farm.  No matter.  He
intended on either killing Archie or sending him to the continent.

An unexpected wave of longing washed
through him. 
Alex
.

Did she care for Runyon?  Share his
proclivities? The thought made Sutton ill.  No.  Her response to
Sutton had been innocent and untried.  Alexandra had not been with another
man.  He did not believe the awful words he flung in anger at her. 
He refused to believe she married Runyon because she wanted to.

A distant memory came to him, from his
time at Eton.  Three boys, all despised by the other youths, were tormented
daily by the headmaster for their perceived flaws.  Colin smuggled in a
bottle of whiskey – good Irish whiskey – from his father’s
study.  The three ran and hid on the edge of the woods, drinking until the
bottle emptied.  Nicholas said a man in the village told him that an old
gypsy woman lived by the river.  She told fortunes.  

Drunk, but in agreement to have their
futures told, the three made their way to the river and spied the Gypsy
wagon.  An old nag, barely able to stand, was tethered to the wagon.  
The old woman didn’t flinch as the trio approached.  Laughing, the three
sat as the crone cackled in delight at their appearance. 

Colin shouted they wanted their fortunes
told.  Our fates should make the other boys respect us.  Make us
sound dangerous he said – so that the other boys will learn to stay
away. 

‘I’ve been waiting for you, my Wickeds’
the crone laughed ‘all cursed aren’t you?’. 
Her gaze fell on Nicholas. “
We share
an ancestor
.” 

Nicholas shrank back in horror. 

The crone reached out and grabbed
Sutton.  She held his chin, turning his head back and forth, as if
examining him for flaws.  One claw like hand stroked his cheek. 
“A
terrible beauty you are.  They say the devil was once an angel as well.”
His
looks were a curse, she said, for no one would ever look past his face to see
the soul encased therein. 

The crone terrified Sutton.  He
tried to pull away from her grasp.

 She laughed, coughing up brown
spittle.  The spittle hung from her withered lips.  Grabbing his left
hand, she traced the lines of his palm with a yellow cracked nail.  
Her eyes, nearly concealed by sagging folds of flesh, sparkled with a
supernatural intelligence. 
“Women will desire you.  You have only
to look at them to seduce them.  No woman will be able to resist you.”  
Colin
and Nicholas burst into gales of laughter, their fear momentarily forgotten.
Nicholas made several lewd comments. 
 “But, your life will be
controlled by the jealous envy of others.  You will be marked for it.”
Sutton
shrank back, his eyes never leaving the crone’s face.
 “And love? 
You will love only once, the same as your father.”
 

Nicholas dropped the whiskey
bottle.  Colin coughed nervously. 

Sutton had pulled his hand away from the
crone.  How could she know? How could she
possibly
know about his
mother?