DisobediencebyDesign (23 page)

And then Geoffrey pushed inside her.

“Oh God!” he gasped, repeating the oath as he thrust in and
pulled out, groaning breathlessly when she clenched and released to his rhythm.
“It’s been too long,” he murmured. “Darling Sophie, you feel so good, so very,
very good.”

Sophia cupped his face with her hands and kissed his lips
tenderly, encouragingly, working her hips below. She was the master now.

Geoffrey increased his rhythm, his eyes boring into her,
glazing over, beginning the slide into joyous oblivion.

Joseph sidled up and reached his hand between Sophia’s legs.
He grabbed Geoffrey’s cock when he pulled out.

Geoffrey yelped.

“Switch,” Joseph commanded. “You on bottom.”

Geoffrey eyed Joseph for a moment before smiling. “Yes.” He
rolled onto his back, pulling Sophia on top to straddle him. She wriggled until
his prick nestled in the slick folds of her sex.

Joseph retrieved something from his nightstand. “Lift up,
Sophie.”

She positioned herself on her hands and knees. From behind,
Joseph massaged her clit, expertly taking her to the point of luscious delirium
before sliding through her slit to draw the sticky wetness to the crinkled hole
of her arse.

Oh God yes
.

She poked her butt out in invitation. One finger breached
the tightness then another, moving in and out gently, slowly. He stopped for a
moment only to return to his ministrations with a cool, creamy substance.

“Cold cream,” he murmured. “Better than butter.”

Excitement shot through her.

“Remember to relax, love.” Joseph’s gentle words were laden
with arousal. His prick nudged her behind.

And then he pushed in, tenderly but resolutely, the pain
exquisite. Sophia gasped, tried to relax. Geoffrey touched her cheek,
comforting her, an expression of wonder on his face. She held his gaze as
Joseph continued to work his way inside, teasing her clit with his fingers.

Geoffrey gaped. “Christ, I could spend just watching you.”

A sharp pinch sent her lurching forward with a clipped cry.
Now fully embedded inside her, Joseph held his position as she relaxed around
him. A moment later he commenced a slow, sensual rhythm.

“Geoffrey,” he said, “it’s your turn.”

Geoffrey grinned and grabbed his cock. “Sophie, lower
yourself onto me.”

“But Joseph is still inside me.”

“That’s the point,” he chuckled.

Such a notion was unbelievable. Joseph stilled as Sophia
spread her legs to let Geoffrey guide himself. He pushed in with a groan, his
hands gripping her waist, holding her steady.

“My God, it’s so tight,” he breathed.

Her head spun at the double invasion, every nerve sparked,
setting off a riot of sensation, pleasure, pain, hunger, satisfaction. Her
breath staggered, her heart raced as she was swept into a whirlwind of
orgiastic delight. She grabbed Geoffrey’s hands at her waist and wailed in
ecstasy.

Geoffrey beamed at her, wide-eyed.

Joseph resumed his movements, spurring Geoffrey to begin.

Incredibly the men moved inside her at once, inciting a new
wave of sensuality to rise within, goaded by Joseph’s attention to her clit and
nipples. She pulsated around Geoffrey’s every stroke, her breaths puffed with
the exertions of all three.

Beneath her Geoffrey lolled on the pillow, his gaze dreamy,
his hands pawing frantically at whatever part of her he could reach. Behind her
Joseph moved steadily, determinedly, his ragged exhales filling her ears, his
hands forgetting her as he raced to his own culmination.

Geoffrey emitted a low, guttural grunt. “Oh God—I can’t—”

He bucked up, piercing her to the core, emptying himself
with a loud, unwavering growl. He crashed down onto the mattress, trying to
catch his breath, still embedded inside her.

Joseph drove into Sophia with more determination, lost in
his own need. Geoffrey watched, his expression one of utter fascination, then
held her gaze, stroking her clit resolutely, willing her to the brink. Still
hard, he thrust deeper. She clenched around him forcefully, slumping forward,
her body powerless to the onslaught of lust controlling her, taking her once
again on a journey to sensual oblivion, racing to the end with Joseph.

But she needed something to take her over the edge.

She pleaded to Geoffrey with her eyes.

He reached for a nipple, twisting it cruelly, sending a
shock wave of delicious pain to meld with the pleasure below. She came with a
howl, every muscle straining in orgasm, compelling Joseph to join her.

She collapsed on top of Geoffrey, breathless.

Joseph chuckled with relief. “That was magnificent.” He
pulled free and drew her to lie alongside him. “Perhaps a somewhat unique
wedding night, my wife,” he murmured, kissing her cheek.

Geoffrey laughed. “Wonderfully unexpected and thoroughly
enjoyable.” He kissed Sophia on the other cheek.

She lay between the two men, sated and amazed, marveling at
a husband who would permit such a pleasure for his wife.

Already everything about their marriage was unique.

The drawing room at Arthur’s house droned with the grumbles
and growls of more than twenty men. Wittering scurried about, making sure each
had what he required—tea, coffee, something stronger—repeatedly explaining that
the windows were closed on the August afternoon to maintain absolute privacy.
Joseph slumped in the corner near the door, acutely aware not one man would
meet his gaze and trying like hell to maintain his composure.

Repercussions from his marriage to Sophia did not take long
but were of an entirely unexpected nature. He was adamant Sophia’s reputation
not be besmirched. “I’ll take the blame,” he had told Arthur and Geoffrey.

“We’re in this together, Joseph,” Arthur reminded him. “Each
and every one of us.”

“I’m surprised it took all of three days before Thuxton sent
a note requesting clarification on the matter,” Geoffrey said. “But what
Royston lacks in funds he makes up for in societal connections.”

Arthur had insisted they immediately call a meeting of
current investors and invite important parties of interest. They needed to
ascertain what had been said about whom and lay any and all rumors to rest.

With a chime of his silver spoon against his porcelain
teacup, Arthur called the room to order. “Gentlemen, gentlemen.” He waved his
hands to suggest they take their seats. “Now it has come to my attention that
there have been rumors of impropriety surrounding Harwell and Company,
involving our engineer, Mr. Phillips, and my sister.”

“Impropriety, Petersham? Well that’s putting it mildly.” The
Earl of Thuxton remained standing, his normally casual air replaced by a
rectitude at odds with his personal notoriety. But vast sums of money were at
stake.

“How’s that, my lord?” Arthur asked.

“I dare say abduction and violence on the lady’s person can
hardly be called ‘impropriety’.”

Joseph met Arthur’s gaze with a raised brow. The gossip was
worse than they had imagined.

“Can you elaborate on these rumors of abduction and
violence, my lord?”

Somehow Arthur was able to maintain his calm. Joseph just
wanted to lash out at every damn one of them.

“Does that man have to be present, Petersham?”

Thuxton nodded in Joseph’s direction. The icy stares of a
dozen men sent a chill up Joseph’s spine.

“Since Mr. Phillips is the one accused of such crimes I think
it best he hear the accusations directly, my lord.” A faint tremor had invaded
Arthur’s reserve.

“Very well.” Thuxton returned his attention to Arthur. “It
is said he carried off the Lady Sophia and had his way with her.”

The oppressive silence that followed was only slightly
marred by Leonard Prescott’s cough. “As a fallen woman she was forced to marry
him,” he said.

“Rumor has it she is expecting his child,” added Harland
Moseby.

“And from whom did you hear this, gentlemen?” Arthur had
regained his cool.

“The Duke of Royston,” said Thuxton. “He claims he heard it
from Lady Richmond.”

The silence became an eerie buzzing in Joseph’s ears.

“Royston said you and Mr. Phillips have been at odds since
the death of Lady Henrietta,” Thuxton continued. “That the rape of Lady Sophia
was the only way a fellow of low birth knew how to gain leverage in such a
situation.”

The buzzing swelled to a roar, drowning out the murmurs and
exclamations of incredulity whirring around him.

Geoffrey clamored for quiet in the room. “Gentlemen, please.
We asked you all here so we could clear up these preposterous rumors.”

“Preposterous, Peel? The Lady Sophia has been missing from
her home for weeks.”

Geoffrey raked his fingers through his hair. “Days, my lord.
She’s been in hiding for several days.”

Thuxton’s brow furrowed. “Hiding? Whatever do you mean?”

Geoffrey straightened. “Her parents have expressed a wish
for Lady Sophia to marry the Duke of Royston.”

“And what, pray tell, Peel, is the matter with that?”

“Everything is the matter with that, Lord Thuxton,” Arthur
said. He faced the room. “Unfortunately, gentlemen, the rumors of rape pertain
to Royston himself, not to Mr. Phillips.”

Thuxton blanched. “You had better be able to defend such a serious
accusation, Petersham.”

Arthur inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly. “We have
evidence the duke brutally raped two servants.”

“Rape?” Thuxton narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure such
allegations were not spawned from the consciences of girls desperate to repair
stained reputations?”

Arthur’s fingers flexed, the sign he was girding his
emotions. He wouldn’t be able to answer without impolitic bitterness.

“The girls in question, Lord Thuxton, were beaten in the
course of the crime,” Geoffrey said.

“Yet they allowed it to happen. That implies consent.”

Geoffrey’s lips thinned. “I will not argue the particulars
of a legal anachronism, Lord Thuxton. But that is not the worst of the duke’s
offenses. He attacked the unmarried daughter of a peer earlier this Season. Her
injuries took two weeks to heal.”

Silence once again weighed heavily in the room.

“Was this witnessed?” Thuxton asked, greatly subdued.

“Yes,” Geoffrey answered, holding the earl’s gaze.

Thuxton stared back. “The girl’s father has every right to
press charges.”

“The girl’s father does not want the scandal,” Geoffrey said
pointedly. “You yourselves see how Royston can turn a situation around to his
favor, regardless of the truth.”

Thuxton colored. “I want to see Lady Sophia. I want to
question her myself.” He turned to Arthur. “Do you know where your sister is,
Petersham?”

“Yes, my lord, I do. She is here.”

Joseph started but Arthur flashed an admonishing glare. “Wittering,
please call down Lady Sophia.”

“Yes, sir.”

Geoffrey sidled up to Joseph as a murmur spread like a wave
across the room.

“Thuxton is a longtime friend of the family’s. He’s known
Sophie since she was a child. He’ll be gentle.”

“They’re putting her on trial, Geoff. I don’t like it. She’s
not the villain in this affair.”

“I don’t like it either,” Geoffrey grumbled. “I’m thinking
as quickly as I can.”

The room fell silent as Sophia entered, wearing an austere,
pale-mauve dress, the two-tiered skirt cleverly adding volume to hide any signs
of pregnancy, the exquisitely tailored silk with lace and fringe declaring the
lady had suffered no change in circumstance and still held her position as a
daughter of the ton. Arthur took her hand and led her across the carpet, the
susurration of her skirts punctuated by murmured greetings to the men she
passed. He offered a chair vacated by a stunned viscount, then took his place
at her side. Anna had accompanied her mistress, remaining near the door,
averting her eyes from Geoffrey’s furtive attentions.

The consummate young lady of society, Sophia sat with a
dignified air. She scanned the faces of the occupants of the room, nodding as
she caught a familiar eye, her face registering no emotion.

Until she saw him.

Their eyes met and not for the life of him could Joseph
control the grin that spread across his face or the flush that crept up the
back of his neck. The color rose in her cheeks, plumped from her own smile, her
lips twisting in a vain effort to maintain her earlier solemnity. Finally she
allowed herself the freedom to express her joy then quickly looked down at her
hands.

Thuxton approached. “Lady Sophia, you are looking well.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“In fact I might say you look almost glowing.”

“You are kind to say such a thing, Lord Thuxton.”

The earl cleared his throat. “You see, we had heard rumors
that you had been abducted—”

She gaped. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“And abused by a certain man who is known to you—”

“Oh God, no!” Sophia grabbed Arthur’s arm.

Joseph’s heart clenched. Geoffrey placed a warning hand on
his shoulder.

“The consequences of which threaten Harwell and Company. We
need to know the truth, Lady Sophia.”

The poise broke and tears streamed down Sophia’s face.
Arthur knelt at her side and offered his handkerchief.

“Arthur, do I have to?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, my lady,” answered Thuxton.

The cad
.

She sucked in a sob. “It was at the Wrexham ball—”

Shit
. Alarm spiked Joseph’s gut, panic prickled every
pore. They hadn’t meant
that
. Arthur should have told her. She should
never have to relive that night.

Geoffrey grabbed his arm. Joseph slumped against the wall.
He had been ready to go to her aid.

Thuxton gawked. “At the Wrexhams’? Why, that was months ago!”

“I didn’t want to go with him but he forced me.” She looked
at Arthur. “Please don’t make me say it.”

Her entreaty broke the stunned silence of the drawing room.
Joseph closed his eyes at the desperation in her voice. There was no way to
regroup. She would have to move forward with the story she was about to tell.

“No no, sweet. They just want to know who.” Arthur’s voice
shook. “There have been rumors about who attacked you.”

“Someone other than the duke?”

Gasps and murmurs filled the room.

“Which duke, Lady Sophia?” Thuxton asked gently.

“The Duke of Royston, my lord,” she quavered.

The murmurs grew louder.

Thuxton colored. “That is not the name we have heard, my
lady.”

Sophia looked at Arthur with a crinkled brow. “I don’t
understand.”

Thuxton placed his hand on her shoulder. “We heard that
another man attacked you, my lady. Not the duke. I see we have been misled.” He
paced before her, staring at the carpet, then stopped. “Tell me, my lady, what
is your relationship with Joseph Phillips?”

She glanced at Arthur, who nodded.

“I am his wife, my lord.”

Sharp exclamations punctuated the growing babble.

“And when did this occur?”

“Last week, my lord.”

“Was this of your own choosing?”

She tilted her head and bit her lower lip. “Are you asking
if I had my father’s permission?”

“Ah, no. I am asking if you were coerced in any way.”

“Well yes, in a way—”

Shit
. Joseph held his breath.

“Because despite the duke’s insult my parents insisted on
our marriage. Such a fate was abhorrent to me. I would have preferred a longer
courtship with Jo—Mr. Phillips and a grand wedding but time was of the essence.”

She looked his way, hope in her eyes. He exhaled.

Prescott coughed again. “It’s obvious, Thuxton, there is a
great affection between the two.”

“The rumors appear to be just that, rumors,” added Moseby.

Thuxton sighed and shook his head. “It appears we owe you an
apology, Mr. Phillips,” he said.

Everyone present turned to Joseph.

“Say something, damn it,” Geoffrey muttered under his
breath.

Joseph straightened, steadying himself against the anger and
frustration boiling within. “It is unfortunate that Lady Sophia had to be
subjected to such interrogation.” All eyes were on him as he traversed the
length of the room toward her. “It is equally unfortunate that our business
associates did not trust my actions and instead relied on the slander of a
known adversary.” He took her hand in his and kissed it, raising the color in
her cheeks once again. Still holding her hand, he turned to face the room. “I
understand, gentlemen, in your eyes I am not only a foreigner but of low birth.
It must be shocking that Lady Sophia has chosen thusly. How can I earn your
trust?”

Thuxton approached. Sophia gripped more tightly.

The earl bowed. “I humbly offer my congratulations, Mr. and
Mrs. Phillips.”

The room erupted in cheers and applause. Joseph glanced
sidelong at a relieved Arthur then toward the door at Geoffrey.

But Geoffrey’s face was twisted in worry as he watched a
flustered Anna scurry from the room.

* * * * *

Anna could watch the heart-wrenching romance no longer. She’d
quietly opened the drawing room door and had left as quickly as she could,
hoping Geoffrey wouldn’t notice.

Once in the hall she closed her eyes and drew in a breath.
If only it were as simple as Mr. Phillips made it seem.

She rucked up her skirts and scurried up the cramped
staircase to the servants’ floor, taking the steps two by two, slowing as she
reached the fourth-floor landing.

“It’s a damn good thing my legs are longer than yours. I
don’t think I would have caught up with you otherwise.”

She turned around at his voice. Geoffrey stood on the
landing below, looking up at her with a smile and a crinkled brow, the door
ajar behind him. She had hoped he wouldn’t think to take the servants’ stairs.

“It’s not going to work,” she said.

“What isn’t?”

“Us.”

“Us? And why is that?”

“He’s exotic, foreign. A man. It’s acceptable. I’m a servant
in their own country. If I were exotic, they would accept me.”

Geoffrey drew his hands over his face. “Anna, darling, they
were concerned about his integrity. Not his social standing.”

“And if the duke spreads rumors about me?”

He stared at her. “He wouldn’t dare.”

“Whom would they believe?”

He drew a breath through his teeth. “Darling, can we talk
about this somewhere else?”

She motioned for him to join her then led him down the hall
to her room. When they stepped inside, she measured his reaction to the modest
space.

“What a cozy abode,” he said, taking it in with a gentle
smile.

“Yes, the governess’ quarters. Right next to the nursery.
That’s mine too. I read by the fire in there.” It
was
cozy. She turned
the lock and leaned against the door with an exhale of satisfaction.