The Sinners Club (24 page)

 

Jack watched as Mary sucked at Simon's cock and appreciated every salacious second of it. He reached around to touch Simon's hip.

“How about we both make love to her?”

“I'd like that. Are you sure?”

“I can't think of anything I'd like to see more at this moment than Mary taking us both, can you?”

He loved her sensual nature, he gloried in it, and he would never become the kind of man who stopped his lover from enjoying herself in bed as much as he did. Of course, he
hoped
she'd always include him in any games she wanted to play; in fact he would insist upon it. He was willing to swear that he'd never touch anyone else without her consent or her participation.

He stared down at her. Was this what love did to a man? Made him want to please her more than himself? After what he'd learned from Miss Norris earlier that day, he could only pray Mary would linger long enough to listen to his declaration of love.

Simon eased his cock out of Mary's mouth and turned to Jack. “Where do you want me?”

Jack pushed aside all his unsettling thoughts and concentrated on the fact that he was with the two people he wanted to fuck more than anyone else in the world. More surprisingly, they seemed to want him too. He wrapped his arm around Mary's hips and brought her up with him, curling her legs around his waist.

“There.”

“But, Simon—”

“I'm here, love.”

Jack watched over Mary's shoulder as Simon eased an oil-slickened finger inside her, shuddering as Simon deliberately ran the pad of his finger along the thin wall that separated Jack's cock from him.

Mary's nipples hardened against his chest and she gasped Simon's name. Jack waited until Simon nudged the head of his wet, oiled cock against Mary's tight hole and then cupped her breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples until she rocked against him, driving Simon deeper with each roll of her hips. He felt Simon's cock slide against his and fought to hold still and not come until his lover was fully sheathed.

He kissed Mary and then Simon, holding them both, loving them both.

“Do you want more, Mary? Another cock in your mouth, filling you up completely?”

She came and he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from joining her. “There are plenty of men here who'd be more than willing to oblige you.” He bit Simon's lower lip. “Next time, maybe even more. Simon and I both in your cunt and two others, would that be enough for you?”

Simon moaned. “Have you ever done that?”

“Yes, it's damned tight.”

“Oh God.” Simon started to thrust. “I want that one day, I want my cock against yours while we both have her.”

Jack couldn't stop his body from responding to Simon's, and he started to move as well in counterpoint. Between them, Mary started to come endlessly, her screams captured in his mouth as he strove to give her everything he was, to become everything she ever needed....

His come exploded deep inside her and he simply gave in to the sensations until he could give nothing else, and felt Simon doing the same.

“Thank you, Mary,” he whispered.

He held her tight as Simon kissed them both and moved away to wash. It was too late to change course now. Loving someone was obviously a far more powerful force than he had ever imagined. He had to tell her the truth about everything and hope that, in the end, she would turn to him and not run. He had no intention of running away from her ever again.

 

After a long soak in Jack's incredibly modern bath, Mary felt remarkably relaxed. It helped that Jack had left her alone while she bathed, because she wasn't sure what to think, or how to deal with him anymore. He hadn't been angry to find her at the orgy. In fact, he'd seemed delighted. Having sex with him and Simon had been incredible and quite unexpected. She trusted them both implicitly.

When had she started to trust Jack?

When had she started to depend on him as much as she depended on Simon?

Pushing such unsettling thoughts away, Mary got out of the bath, dressed with the aid of one of the kitchen maids, and was escorted down the stairs. Simon was waiting for her in the hallway.

When they entered Jack's study, Mary, overcome by a wave of shyness, found it impossible to raise her eyes from the intricate rug on the floor.

“My lady.”

Jack's voice and his hand on her bare skin made her jump. “Good evening, sir.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He'd washed and changed and his dark hair was still damp and curling at the ends.

“I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Nicodemus Theale.”

Mary half-turned and noticed for the first time that she and Simon weren't the only people in the study. A slight black-haired man stood up and bowed.

“Good evening, my lady. I'm Mr. Theale.”

She nodded and smiled as Jack took her hand again and turned her toward someone else.

“And this is Miss Norris.”

Her smile froze as she stared at the older woman dressed in a plain muslin gown that looked twenty years out of fashion. The woman's eyes were brown like her own, and anxiously fixed on her.

“A pleasure.” Mary murmured, her heart racing, her thoughts in a terrible jumble of fear and anticipation and—what on earth was Jack Lennox playing at?

“Would you all like to sit down so that we can begin?” Jack asked.

“Begin what?” Mary said, aware that her tone was too high and full of suspicion.

He glanced over at her. “Sorting out this deplorable mess, once and for all.”

She sat, mainly because her knees gave way. Simon was on her left. He reached out to pat her shoulder.

Jack remained standing, his hands behind his back, his expression thoughtful.

“George Mainwaring came to see my solicitor, Mr. McEwan, this morning, and offered him an extraordinary tale. I was fortunate enough to overhear every word, and equally determined to see if there was any truth in the story.” He bowed to Miss Norris, who looked even more terrified than Mary felt.

“Apparently, on his deathbed, the earl confessed to Mr. Mainwaring that he had contracted a previous marriage. He wanted George to find out if his first wife was still living.”

“What?”
Simon asked. “But—”

Jack continued talking. “The earl mentioned the family name was Norris, which struck me as rather coincidental seeing as I'd recently been informed that the man who paid for Mary's mother, Catherine Miller's, keep was a Mr.
Desmond
Norris.” He studied his audience's faces. “Could it be that the earl had married the sister of the man who was the unacknowledged father of his second wife? How bizarre would that be?”

Mary wrapped her fingers together on her lap and stared down at them. No wonder George had been so sure of victory. If he were right, Mary would be left without a feather to fly with. She suddenly felt immensely weary. All her efforts had been for nothing. She was right back in the gutter where she apparently belonged.

She rose to her feet. “I'd rather not hear any more.”

“Sit down, Mary.”

She glared at Jack. “Are you enjoying this? I'm surprised you didn't invite George along. He would love to be the one who throws me out—or do you want that privilege for yourself?”

“Mary.” His gaze was full of compassion, which terrified her even more. “Please let me finish.”

Simon tugged at her fisted hand, and she reluctantly sat back down. They might have ruined her, but she'd be damned if they made her cry again.

“After hearing George's story I offered to post down to Hertford and meet Miss Norris for myself.” Jack smiled at the older woman. “She was kind enough not only to invite me into her home, but to accompany me back to London.”

“So is she Jasper's wife?” Simon interrupted him.

“It appears that she is.” Jack held up his hand. “But things are never quite as simple as they seem. George was so eager to confirm the marriage that he forgot to ask any more questions.”

“If she's Jasper's wife, then Mary isn't, and that's all there is to it,” Simon stated.

“Not quite. If Miss Norris is the Dowager Countess of Storr, why didn't she come forward to claim the title?”

Miss Norris stood up. “Because it would've been a lie.” She swallowed hard. “I married Jasper under duress to protect his ungodly relationship with my brother, Desmond. He wanted an excuse to spend time with Desmond, and they used me to get what they wanted. Officially, I kept house for them both.” Her mouth twisted. “Oh, we were well paid for it, and Desmond threatened to kill me if I ever breathed a word to anyone, so I kept quiet.”

“Even when Jasper became the Earl of Storr?”

“I didn't want all that grandeur, and pretense. It would've choked me. I was much happier where I was, with people who loved me. Eventually, everyone forgot that Jasper had ever been part of my life. Desmond made other arrangements to meet the earl in London, and I was left to myself. In truth, I'd almost forgotten all about it until that unpleasant Mr. Mainwaring came calling and threatened me with the magistrate.”

Mary almost wanted to smile. How strange that the earl had married two women to disguise his real interest in another man. It was so very likely that she didn't doubt Miss Norris's story for a second. She cleared her throat with some difficulty.

“One must assume that Desmond Norris continued to meet the earl at the house my mother and I inhabited in Hans Town.”

Jack, who was assisting Miss Norris back to her seat, looked up. “Mr. Theale has the answers to that part of the puzzle.”

The quiet curly-haired man stood and bowed before producing a notebook. “Mr. Desmond Norris is listed as the owner of the house in Hans Town and was considered to be the protector of your mother, Catherine Miller. However, after some research, it does appear as if all the funding for the house and upkeep actually came from the Earl of Storr.”

“So my mother and I were simply a front for the earl's romantic liaison with Desmond Norris?”

Mr. Theale's glance veered over to Jack, who nodded.

“Go ahead.”

“I fear it was more than that, my lady.”

“Let me guess, Desmond Norris wasn't averse to bedding women, and I am his bastard?”

Mr. Theale hesitated. “From what I understand from Mrs. Picoult, my lady, it wasn't Mr. Norris who bedded your mother but the Earl of Storr.”

Mary stood up so fast that she knocked her chair over. She managed to make it to the door and ran toward the entrance of the club, fighting her way through the incoming members with all her strength. But it was no use; she was hauled back from behind and found herself in Jack's arms.

“No, damn you!” She kicked and fought him as hard as she could. “Let me go!”

 

Without a word, Jack picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and mounted the stairs at a run, not stopping until he reached his apartment and had her inside. He locked the door and faced her. All the color had leached from her skin, leaving it as pale as the finest porcelain; her eyes were huge and full of pain, her hand jammed over her mouth as she gulped in air through her tears.

“Mary.” He held out his hand to her.

She backed away. “Get away from me, I'm going to be sick.”

“It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything.”

Her breathing was as uneven as his. “It changes
everything!
Did he know? Did he deliberately take me up, and
marry
me? He made me watch him with Simon, he—” Her chest heaved. “Oh God, I can't—”

She slid down to the floor and he followed her, taking her into his arms and hauling her onto his lap. He wrapped himself around her and just concentrated on holding her shaking form.

“I don't know if he knew. Desmond's death wasn't reported to him. It was Desmond's solicitors who ordered the sale of all his assets and threw you and your mother out of the house.”

“But he found us at Mrs. Picoult's. He must have known!” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“I suppose it's possible that Mrs. Picoult wrote to tell him what had happened to you and your mother. She did know of their relationship.” He sighed and kissed her now disheveled hair. “I should imagine she thought it might help.”

“In her way of thinking, it probably did. She made a profit and Simon and I got out of the brothel.”

He hated the note of defeat in her voice.

She shuddered. “Jasper was a monster.”

He couldn't argue about that and concentrated on rubbing her back and kissing her throat and ears.

“Now what am I going to do with myself?”

“There isn't really any other option.” He kissed her ear again and took a deep breath. “You're going to have to marry me.”

She shoved him away. “I can't do that!”

“Why not?”

“If I'm ...” She faltered. “Jasper's daughter, we're related.”

“Barely, and who is going to know or care about that? We'll unleash the gossip about Jasper's previous marriage to Miss Norris and install her as the Dowager Countess of Storr. Everyone will be terribly sorry for you and feel it only just if I do the right thing and marry you myself.”

“But we're practically cousins!”

“Which is a perfectly legitimate connection in this country.” He eased a finger under her chin and raised her head until he could look into her beautiful brown eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, my father was quite convinced his mother had a lover and that he was the result of that liaison. He was born several years after his siblings, and looked nothing like them. Naturally, my grandfather either had to accept the child as his own, or cast doubts on his wife's virtue and the legitimacy of all of his children. Apparently he chose to put up with the situation, but made my father's life a misery, hence his early departure from the bosom of his family.”