One Taste of Scandal (22 page)

Judah stopped moving, staring down at her. “You are a virgin?”

“I
was two seconds ago,” she panted. “Why are you stopping?” She felt a delicious edge of the cataclysmic glory she’d experienced with his mouth on her pearl, and wanted the sensation again.

“But you seemed so knowing. You wanted me so fervently.”

She was panting. “Just because my mother explained the process to me, does not mean I indulged.”

He began to roll off her, but she clutched his back. “Don’t stop!”

“Magdalene, we shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t love me.” His eyes were desperate.

“I never said that.”

“You refused to marry me.”

She kissed his neck. “We don’t want the same things. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

“How can you accept the proposal of the baronet when you might have my child in your belly?”

“I told you.” She gently danced her fingers down his back, cupped his buttocks. “There are only a few days a month a woman can conceive. This isn’t one of them.”

He sighed. She could feel his chest move against hers. “I don’t understand your family at all.”

“You do not have to. You only need to understand me.” She slid her legs up his, then crossed them around his back. “Love me, Judah, please.”

“I can’t stop,” he groaned, pulling her hands from him and sliding his fingers in between hers. He began to move then, long luxurious strokes inside her that seemed to simultaneously tear her apart and knit her together again.

“Judah,” she whispered. “I adore you.” She lifted her legs into the air, feeling the angle of their joining change and deepen. Sore, stretched, amazed, she couldn’t decide how this all felt. She only knew she had been missing something indescribable.

“Love me,” he commanded. “Tell me you love me.”

“I do.”

“Tell me.” He thrust so deeply that she cried out.

She tried to pull her hand away from his, but he would not let go. His gaze, intense with exertion, found hers.

“Tell me.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

His mouth descended on hers. The deep, drugging kisses, stronger than any opiate, took command of her senses. She could do nothing but embrace him and let the passion take over. When he cried out, moving against her with intense depth and speed, she lost control of herself again, her entire being spiraling into a wave of pleasure.

Then, it was only them, warm and cozy in the tiny bed, falling asleep after a long, draining day.

 

They spent the long day and night together, in a lover’s wordless happy haze, napping and making love. It was only when Judah sat beside Magdalene the next day on the train that he realized they had said little. He’d been too overwhelmed by the sights and scents of her strong, slim, feminine body to talk, still unbelieving that she’d given herself to him when she planned to marry another.

Now, they could not converse. The train was crammed full of people who had been stranded by the storm. He’d had to stand while she sat. When they arrived in London, it was even worse. No cabs could be found, and they had a dangerous trek through the snow on foot. By then, Magdalene was tense with worry for Manfred. No telegram had arrived at the small Doncaster telegraph office before they’d left.

At her brother’s house, Magdalene let herself inside.

“I should come with you,” Judah said. “I might be able to run for the doctor or do some other errand.”

“Hetty is here, and George,” she said. “Come tomorrow.”

“Magdalene.” He hated the pleading in his voice. Why was it necessary when she had said she loved him? Yet he had the distinct sensation that nothing had been resolved between them.

“Come tomorrow,” she repeated. “I do not want you ill.”

He frowned as she shut the door without so much as a kiss good-bye. She did not behave as he expected a woman in love would, but they had been two days without news of Manfred. Also, he had no reason to think she did love him. She’d only said so in the throes of passion. As he regained the street, he remembered his other responsibilities. Eddy and Redcake’s. Surely they deserved his attention too, especially when he’d abandoned them so precipitously.

He walked home, balancing carefully on the snow-covered icy streets, forcing himself to pay attention to his feet, rather than to worries about Magdalene or memories of their night together.

At the door, Lawrence met him, looking exhausted.

“Have you slept since I left?” Judah asked.

“I could ask the same, Captain.”

“It was a long journey through bad weather. What is your reason?”

“Did you know the lad has nightmares? He has woken us up at least thrice a night since you’ve been gone.”

Judah frowned. “I never heard anything when I was here.”

“Strange, isn’t it? But he isn’t bamming.”

“A larger house will allow at least some of us to sleep. I have some residences to look at when I have time.” He heard a clattering on the steps and Eddy appeared, looking a little wild-eyed but otherwise less injured than when Judah had left.

“Is Miss Cross’s brother recovered?” Eddy asked.

“I do not know,” Judah said, handing Lawrence his things. “But I delivered her to her brother’s door. I shall call tomorrow.”

“I do not like Mr. Farmer,” Eddy said next.

“Think of him as a customer you must please,” Judah advised. “Now, if you do not mind, I would like a bath. Lawrence, can you bring me hot water?”

“Yes, Captain.” Lawrence went down the hall.

“I’m not a scholar,” Eddy said. “I want to work with my hands.”

“You haven’t been here long,” Judah told him. “Give this a chance.”

Eddy frowned. “I could sell papers again.”

“You don’t need to work. For a boy in your position, this new life should be a dream come true.”

“I never dreamed of it.” He crossed his arms.

Judah stopped, trying to warm his feet. “Speaking of dreams, why are you having nightmares?”

Eddy shrugged. “Not ’appy, I suppose.”

Judah scrubbed his face with his hands. “I have a great deal to do today. We shall continue this discussion another time.” He climbed the stairs, ready to do his valet’s job and lay out clothing, all the quicker to check on Redcake’s.

After an afternoon hunched over papers in his office, he came home to an acrimonious dinner at his table, followed by a busy Saturday morning at Redcake’s. With a little over two weeks to go to Christmas, the upper classes were gone from London but everyone else was ready to celebrate. Early in the afternoon though, he broke himself away to call at the Cross home.

 

Magdalene was napping in a chair next to Manfred when Hetty appeared at the door.

“Captain Shield is downstairs,” the maid reported.

“Can George see him?” She yawned and stretched, half-asleep. Seeing the captain in a weakened, exhausted state made her fear she would say something she shouldn’t, reveal some private part of herself. That was, if she had any privacy remaining, given their night together.

“I think he has a touch of the fever himself now. He’s asleep.”

Magdalene groaned. They all needed to be well or her nephews would be shipped to her uncle’s country home for the holidays rather than to London. She stood slowly and walked to the basin and poured in a little water so she could clean her face and her hands.

On the way downstairs she looked at herself. Her dress was old, but at least she’d changed it that morning. Besides, Judah liked her disheveled. He appreciated an active and occupied woman, rather than a perfect Society miss. Maybe she was incapable of being the woman she had expected to be. Certainly she had been bored at Lady Varney’s home.

When she saw Judah in the parlor, sitting in an armchair, his head back and eyes closed, the picture of exhaustion, she wanted to crawl into his lap and curl up against him. If not for Manfred, she would wish them back in Doncaster. Quietly, she closed the parlor door and tiptoed up to him.

His eyes opened and a lazy smile brightened his face. “Maggie.”

She blushed. He had called her that for the first time in Doncaster. “Hello, Judah.”

He stood and moved to a sofa, then patted the space next to him. His tiger eyes seemed to steal the light from the gas sconces and they glowed with intensity.

She felt a moment’s unease. Would he pounce? “Hetty will be here soon with tea.”

“I told her not to bother.”

“Oh.” She sat next to him and arranged her skirt, then folded her hands primly in her lap. Would he demand a kiss?

Judah inclined his head. When he glanced up again she saw he now wore a civil mask and it was as if the hunger she had sensed in him had departed. “How is Manfred? I stayed away as long as I could, but I must know. You might have sent a note.”

She had considered it, but as she had stared down at the paper, did not know what to write. “I am sorry. I should have done so. I know you have been worried too.”

He patted her shoulder, his big hands awkward on her, in a way they had not been when they were naked together. “I know you have been too busy to think of me.”

She shivered at the memory of their bodies entwined. “On the contrary. It has been a challenge to think of anything else.”

His lips twitched. “I feel quite the same way, occupied as I have been with my household and Redcake’s. I did have news waiting for me. The marchioness has become an aunt, courtesy of her sister Matilda, who is recovering. But how is Manfred?”

She took a deep breath of his exotic scent, remembering how it had stayed on her flesh for a full day after she had come home. “Manfred is well enough. His fever was very high for six hours after I arrived. Hetty said he had some kind of seizure, but he has been awake a little and his fever is all but gone.”

“He seems in his right mind?” He folded his hands over his knee, quite deliberately.

She thought he’d considered putting his hands elsewhere. “Yes, and he can move his appendages. George is becoming ill now.”

“It is very contagious then. Should you be here?”

“I rarely become ill. My brothers were always more susceptible.”

“Make sure you eat and sleep,” he advised. “It makes a great deal of difference, I’ve always noticed.”

She smiled at the advice. “I will, Auntie Judah.”

He laughed. “I gave Hetty a basket of Redcake’s treats. I even liberated some scotch trifle that is the specialty at the holidays.” He reached for her hand and pressed it between his two palms. “I will not keep you away from your brothers. I know this is not the time to discuss our future. Please consider it though. I will call again soon.”

He stood. His look upon her was serious and loving all at once. She felt the warm glow of his concern for her. It didn’t diminish as he left the room.

She sat for a moment in the cold parlor. He had been respectful. He had brought a gift. She appreciated that, given that she’d all but declared herself a loose woman. What kind of future did he have in mind? Did he still want to marry her? Could she be happy with him?

She dropped her head into her hands. His kindness left her with more questions than answers.

Sunday passed in a haze of nursing her brothers. Judah did not return, nor could she have expected him to. On Monday, she found letters from Harrogate in the morning’s post.

One note was from Cousin Lillian, expressing exasperation that she’d left and inquiring as to whether the baronet had made any declaration of intent. Lady Varney had penned a stiff note of concern for her family. And Constance had written as well, with tremendous news.

Like Judah
. He was exactly the sort of man who would do very well for Constance. Good breeding, a good position, someone who might appreciate a wife with a private income but didn’t need it, and would certainly not look down at her for being mostly alone in the world and not wealthy.

Yes, a man like him would do very well, but not him. She wanted Judah for herself. It seemed nothing could change that, not even a proposal from a titled gentleman. The question was, would Judah give her a second chance? It seemed more likely that he would want her as a mistress, now that she’d shown herself to be of low morals. No man in Society ever thought he had to propose to a Cross girl just because he’d enjoyed her favors. Being a Cross girl meant you were compromised from birth.

She stared into the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup, wishing she could read them to get some hint of her future. Of course, this would work better if she believed in fortune-telling. With a shake of the head, she pushed back her chair, ready to leave the warm kitchen to tend her brothers.

Hetty rushed in. “There is a boy here to see you.”

“A boy?” Magdalene followed the maid into the hall, to find Eddy Jackson waiting inside the door. “Eddy! How did you find me?”

“The captain’s valet knew your direction.”

“Are you here for a chat?” She wondered why he had come. Had Judah become ill?

He took her proffered hand. “I came to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye? Is the captain taking you to Heathfield for Christmas?”

“I don’t know where that is,” Eddy said, jamming his hands into his coat pockets. His wrists did not appear to be as bony as they had, nor his neck as thin. “I’ve found a job away from this part of Town.”

She noticed his Cockney speech had been smoothed out in the past few weeks. This new tutor was performing his job well. She suspected his visit here was a cry for help, rather than a real good-bye. “Are you running away from the captain’s house? Come into the kitchen. I think we still have some raisin buns left.”