Read A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle Online
Authors: Catherine Gayle
Tags: #romance, #historical, #historical romance, #regency, #regency romance, #duke, #rake, #bundle, #regency series
“
Whiskey for me,”
Carruthers said.
The flaxen-haired barmaid nodded and
left, winking over her shoulder at him as she sashayed
away.
“
So,” Quin began, “there’ve
been no problems during my time away? Nothing amiss? No problems
with the tenants or workers?”
“
No, my lord. I’ve run
everything just as I always have. Haven’t made any changes since
Sir Augustus hired me and we sorted out the mess your father left
behind.”
Sir Augustus? Quin’s step-father had
employed the man? He nodded, encouraging the steward to go
on.
“
A few of our workers have
left over the years and others have come along. But generally
they’ve all been working here as long as I have. Many of them even
longer than that.” The steward smiled. “It’s really quite like a
family, we’ve all been together for so long.”
A family? Ha. Quinton Abbey
was no place for a family, which only made Quin’s proposition to
Rotheby even more ridiculous. Sure, they were far from the prying
eyes of the
ton
.
That very privacy only allowed for nasty
family
secrets to fester like open
wounds until they ate the flesh of their victims.
The barmaid returned with their food
and drinks. “Anything else I can get you?” she asked with a
come-hither smile.
Quin realized with a start that he had
no intention of doing anything that could possibly be construed as
going-thither. He shook his head. “Just come back in a bit with
more whiskey and brandy.”
She nodded and backed away.
He downed half his brandy in one
swallow. “So the staff has all been here, for what? Twenty years?
Perhaps more?”
“
Some for over forty
years,” Carruthers said. “The head groom was here as a stable boy
when Lord Rotheby was still Lord Quinton. You might recall that
Mrs. Marshall was then your nurse.”
Yes. Quin remembered. She’d been the
one to find him in the woods where he lay by the river after Mercy
died. The one to hold him as he sobbed like the baby he would never
be again. The one to pick up his bruised body from the floor after
the first beating, the hot, sticky blood from his cheek staining
her grey dress.
He also remembered he had a different
nurse after that day. Mrs. Marshall had left him, too. They all
left him.
Or so he thought.
~ * ~
Aurora dined alone. She waited until
she was almost faint with hunger before she gave in and made her
way into the great hall alone. Cook had graciously held the supper,
keeping it warm, while Aurora waited more than two hours for
Quin.
Even after she ate, she waited for
him. First in the salon, then in the refectory where she pored
through the massive library of books, and finally in the sitting
room separating their chambers.
She’d already been through her nightly
ablutions, changed into her nightrail, and was half asleep on a
divan when she heard the creak of the door.
“
You’re home,” she
said.
Quin merely grunted. His bleary eyes
bore red streaks and the stench of brandy assailed her from across
the room.
Lovely. Just lovely. “Can we talk?”
Though, this might not be the best time for a conversation. Blast.
Still, she stood and moved closer to him.
But he didn’t walk away and close the
door. He just stood there. Staring at her. Or more staring through
her nightrail, at least. Aurora fought the urge to wrap her arms
across her chest and cross her legs. The thin material was hardly
diaphanous, but it would be hard to decipher that from the heat of
his gaze.
She might as well just start. “Mrs.
Marshall took me on a lovely tour of the abbey today. There are so
many books in the refectory I doubt I’ll ever finish reading them
all.”
Quin took a step toward her, closing
the distance between them somewhat. Aurora shivered. His eyes moved
over her, possessing every inch of her body with his
eyes.
“
And the tapestries in the
salon are exquisite. I doubt I’ve ever seen their
equal.”
Another step. She could almost feel
him. Heat poured from him in waves, cascading over the ebbs and
peaks of her body.
“
Tomorrow, she’s promised
to show me the gardens and the park. She says the wisteria is
particularly lovely this time of year.”
One more step. His hand reached across
and took hers, seemingly enveloping her in his warmth. Aurora
nearly wept from the simple touch. For days, they’d been so close,
but yet so far. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t
capitulate. That she’d be strong and not allow him to seduce her
with his touch. That he’d have to make amends before she
capitulated to him.
Oh, dear good Lord. She couldn’t very
well surrender now.
“
I particularly enjoyed the
gallery. The portraits showed such a strong family resemblance.”
His hand stiffened over hers, but she pressed on. “I was
particularly curious about your sister and your mother.”
~ * ~
“
You’ve never spoken of
them,” she said.
How dare she? How dare she go snooping
around the abbey, prying into his past, poking at open
wounds?
“
I thought I told you to
stay out of my concerns,” he said. He had to walk away. He had to
get control over himself again. Now.
But Aurora backed away first, pulling
her hand free and holding it to her chest. Her mouth was in a
perfect O and her eyes nearly matched it. “Your concerns? But they
are your family. I thought”
“
Stop bloody well thinking.
Stop prying. Stop going behind my back to find your
answers.”
Tears formed in her eyes again. Good.
He wanted her to cry.
“
I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’d only hoped I could meet them some day. My own mother passed
away many years ago, and I’ve never had a sister
before.”
Ha. What a sight that would be.
“That’s not possible,” he barked. “Mercy is dead.” She didn’t need
to know about Nia, either.
Then tears poured down her cheeks like
a deluge. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“
There’s a lot you don’t
know. Mind your own concerns.”
Aurora turned to her chamber to leave,
but he grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him
again.
“
Where are you
going?”
Her eyes refused to meet his. “I’m
tired. I’m going to bed.”
Bloody hell. Now that they’d been
talking, he couldn’t just let her go off to bed. He needed
something. Christ, he needed her.
Badly.
But she couldn’t know. He couldn’t
tell her. That would make it all too real, too permanent. Quin
pressed his fingers beneath her chin, forcing it up until she
looked into his eyes. “Have you forgotten? We have an heir to
conceive.”
Aurora’s eyes narrowed to darkened
slits. Even as he brought his lips down to crush against hers, she
pushed with all her might against his chest. He’d be damned if he
wouldn’t have her in his bed that night. Beneath him. Above him.
Around him.
Quin bit her lip, harder than he’d
intended, but it had the desired effect. She gasped. He entered her
mouth with his tongue, stroking and suckling against hers. Still,
she shoved against him. Quin advanced upon her, using his weight to
drive her backward until she bumped into the wall.
With one hand still keeping hers
enslaved, he pressed a knee between her thighs, driving it against
her sex. She let out a little moan against his mouth. He could feel
her wetness through his trousers—could smell the musky aroma of her
arousal mixed with rosewater and brandy and heat.
Another pass with his knee, and Aurora
gave up her fight.
Quin dropped her hands and used his to
rip the front of her nightrail open, delighted at her shocked gasp.
God, her breasts were perfect. Smooth and full, with nipples as
hard as diamonds practically begging him to touch them.
How could he resist? He splayed his
hands against Aurora’s ribcage and slid them up over her breasts.
Slowly. Painstakingly slow. Her eyes closed and her breaths came in
rapid succession. The juxtaposition of her taut nipples followed by
soft breasts against his palms was a sensation he’d never forget.
Exquisite agony. Just like everything else about her.
She moved her hips against him then,
sliding her moist heat over his leg in an all-too-familiar rhythm.
Quin raised his knee to help her. With his thumbs and fingers, he
rolled those pert little nipples around and watched his wife come
to the precipice of ecstasy.
“
Yes, love,” he crooned in
her ear. “Almost there.”
She was, too—panting and rocking her
hips and searching for release with her eyes rolled back in her
head. Deep in her throat, soft, little sounds formed.
Aurora reached down and unbuttoned the
flap of his breeches, placing her hand inside and stroking his
length. He kissed her again, sliding his tongue over hers to mimic
her hand. When she squeezed just so, he nearly lost control. “Oh,
God. Just like that, Aurora. I lo”
He cut himself off before he could
finish the thought. Quin pulled away from her. Aurora stumbled when
his weight no longer pinned her to the wall. Her eyes spoke to her
confusion.
Walking to his chamber, Quin called
out over his shoulder, “If you want me to finish what I’ve started,
you know where to find me.”
He couldn’t tell her. Not now. Not
yet.
~ * ~
Oh, damn and blast. The door closed
behind Quin. How could he leave her in such a state? If he didn’t
keep touching her, Aurora thought she might die. Her body ached for
the release that only he had ever provided her.
But she’d be damned if she
would follow that blasted man and beg him to
finish what he’d started
. With a
huff, Aurora turned to her own chamber and slammed the door behind
her. Hopefully he heard it. Abominable man, toying with her like
that.
She riffled through a couple of her
chests, hoping to find another nightrail, since he’d torn the one
she had on to shreds, but with no luck. It was all too new. She
didn’t know where Rose had stored anything yet.
And she couldn’t very well ring for
the maid now. Not with her bosom hanging out for all the world to
see.
Sleep. She’d just go to sleep and
worry about her nightrail in the morning, and forget all about Quin
and the way his touch made her feel. Aurora climbed into her bed
and slid beneath the counterpane, willing her mind to forget all
that had happened.
Her mind might have complied, but her
body refused. It still thrummed for Quin’s touch, aching for his
mouth. Blast him. She tried rolling over, but the movement of the
bedding against her sensitive flesh sent a jolt through her body.
Oh, dear good Lord. Perhaps she ought not to move at all. Maybe it
would go away. Aurora lay still for as long as she could stand it.
Probably not for more than a few moments, at most.
She could, perhaps, make it go away
herself. Couldn’t she? With a tentative hand, she slid it over one
sensitive breast. Her eyes flew open. Oh. Oh, my. That was actually
somewhat pleasant. She tried it again, pressing harder this
time—and attaining only a slightly better result.
At this rate, she would only keep
herself up all night with trying for something that would never
happen. She had no idea what to do. But Quin always knew exactly
what to do.
Blast, blast, blast, damn,
blast.
Aurora tossed back the counterpane and
marched through her room and the sitting room, throwing back the
door to Quin’s chamber with all her might. He sat completely naked
on the edge of his massive bed, fully aroused, surrounded by the
glow of candlelight.
“
I hope you’re well and
truly happy with yourself.” Aurora reached his side in three
strides, and then straddled his legs, rubbing her heated center
against his length. She kissed him, getting drunk from the brandy
still on his tongue. “Finish it,” she said against his lips.
“Please, Quin. Finish it.”
He lifted her by the hips and settled
her over him. As she lowered, he filled her. Aurora waited. She
waited for him to flip her to her back and come over top of her,
but he just smiled.
“
You finish it,” he drawled
with a fiendish glint in his eye.
Oh, gracious Lord in heaven. She never
knew…
~ * ~
Thank God she’d come to him. Even
through two closed doors, he could hear Aurora’s little sounds as
she’d tried to pleasure herself. Or perhaps he only imagined them.
Either way, it was enough to send him to Bedlam with
need.
Quin had won that little
contest.
He won another when she attempted to
leave after they were both sated, by pulling her arm until she spun
around and fell atop him, her nose landing only an inch from his.
“Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asked as the tickle of
her hot breath danced over his lips.