To Ruin a Rake (35 page)

“I am yours, as you are mine,” she husked against the corner of his mouth. “Now make love to me, husband.”

Her throaty command inspired an unparalleled rush of desire. Unable to contain his passion any longer, he abandoned himself to it. Withdrawing almost completely, he sank back into her with uninhibited joy. Again and again, he buried himself in her.

“I love you,” she gasped at his ear, just as her passage clenched around him.

Shuddering, he pressed into her to the root of his shaft, her words along with her complete embrace bringing a profound stillness to his entire being. Over and over, she convulsed beneath him, her sheath spasming in time with the climax that robbed her of breath and coherence. He savored her release along with her surrender.

While her body was yet in the throes of pleasure, he again began to move, and this time he held nothing back. All too soon, his crisis came over him, drawing upon his vitals in a sudden, unendurable tightening before releasing that tension in a blinding wave of pleasure. Over and over again, it blazed through him as his hot seed burst forth.

The woman in his arms was his, now and forever.

But then, she had been for some time now, he realized as his breathing finally slowed. That night at the Hospital, she’d chosen to give him her heart along with her body.
Him
. No one else. Not William, not Russell. Him. He was the one she wanted.

An anxiety he hadn’t realized he had vanished. For the first time in his life, true contentment filled him. He’d been searching for something, and now he knew what it was. He’d never been wanted, had never really belonged anywhere. He looked down at Harriett, his Harriett, who still drifted on the tides of pleasure, pleasure he had brought to her.

Now he knew. Right here was where he belonged.

Accustomed to rising early, Harriett awoke as dawn’s rose-tinted light began to seep in around the edges of the heavy drapes covering the windows of her new bedchamber. The contentment that suffused her was such that it was hard to even imagine moving. She lay there for a while, staring at the room her husband had so thoughtfully appointed to suit her taste, drinking in the warmth and security of his embrace.

His arm lay across her waist, its corded strength a lure for her palm. As she indulged herself, his hand moved to cup her breast, startling her.

“You rise early, Lady Manchester.”

The gravelly quality of his voice coupled with his gentle touch elicited a sharp pang of want. Turning in his arms, she looked into his smiling eyes. He was so handsome all tousled and unshaven like this. “And here I thought you a lazy aristocrat who never deigned to rise before the noon hour,” she teased, stroking the sandpaper roughness of his cheek with a fingertip.

Without warning he shifted, pulling her atop him. “As you can see, I am no such creature. You’ve taught me the merits of being an early riser.”

His wicked chuckle made her ears grow hot. The rest of her heated, too, as the hard, silken column of his manhood pressed against her belly. Her embarrassment, however, was quickly forgotten in the wake of desire.

“Rising early has its rewards, my lord husband,” she replied, levering up onto her knees to straddle him and put his errant member in its proper place.

Later as they breakfasted, a servant entered bearing a tray of messages. One was an urgent missive from her father.

“Not even a single day’s peace before it begins,” she muttered, breaking the seal. Her brows rose as she read. “Ours is not the only scandalbroth brewing. Nanette’s eavesdropping has already borne fruit.” Roland had told her of the incident on the way back to London. “According to Papa, she wasted no time in bringing Russell news of my defection.”

“And?”

Irony lifted the corners of her mouth. “Apparently, he was so greatly distressed that she was obliged to take rather drastic measures to prevent him taking himself off to the nearest bridge and diving off it. They were caught in the act by several witnesses.”

“No doubt by her specific design.”

“No doubt whatsoever,” she agreed. “Their wedding is in two weeks.” She tossed the letter aside with a satisfied sigh. “With
that
to look forward to in addition to our elopement and Cat’s wedding, no one will even notice Arabella’s return. We should send our congratulations to the happy couple.”

“Mm. We should. But before we do, I should like to place a wager at White’s—in your favor, of course.”

She laughed and continued to peruse the pile of letters. To her surprise, Elizabeth, too, had sent felicitations. She was in London to help Cat prepare for the wedding and had heard the news from Papa. That she did not inquire after Arabella’s health or whereabouts was a mark of her continued resentment. Presumably, Elizabeth preferred to pretend their errant sister no longer existed.

The only thing that really worried Harriett was the possibility of a confrontation between the two before she could spirit Arabella and Eudora away. Kimbolton was in Cambridgeshire, far removed from London and even farther from Kent where Elizabeth lived. She hoped the distance would be enough to prevent their ever meeting.

Her stomach tightened at the thought of how Elizabeth might react to her taking Arabella into her household. There was every likelihood it would be perceived as a betrayal. Would she, too, be cut off? Regardless, Harriett determined to see the plan through to completion—for her niece’s sake.

She did not share her fears with Roland, for she still did not know how much Papa had revealed. Did Roland know about Oxenden or did he simply think Arabella had fallen prey to some random calamity as did Mrs. Jenkins? Until she knew, she dare not say anything that might raise questions.

The adoption of Eudora and possibly another child with her was planned for the day after Cat’s wedding. They would all leave for Cambridgeshire the following day. It was vitally important that Arabella be seen at the wedding. Harriett prayed her little sister lost the majority of her motherly figure by then. Eudora had been born almost a month and a half early, which should help.

Until they brought the child home, Harriett planned to continue serving at the Hospital as she’d always done—where she could keep close watch over the babe. Things would be different there now that she was Lady Manchester. She would be serving alongside her husband, for one.
My husband.
She looked down at the gold band on her finger. It still felt foreign.

“I shall replace it with a jewel to rival those worn by the queen,” whispered Roland at her ear.

“I am content and need no such finery.”

“Nevertheless.” He punctuated his insistence with a kiss.

~ * ~

Two Weeks Later

“Birthmark on top of left foot,” mumbled Nurse Hayes as she wrote. “What name should we give this one, Your Grace?” she asked, looking at her expectantly.

Harriett rewrapped the baby and laid her back down in the crib. “What about Eudora? It means ‘the good gift.’”

“Eudora. Lovely.” Nurse Hayes wrote the name down and slipped the paper into her file. A card with the name was also tied to one corner of the babe’s crib. “She’s awfully small. Could only have been born a few days ago, the poor wee mite.”

“She’ll plump up after a few days here,” Harriett answered, confident. “Tell Matron Dimsey to find another wet nurse. This one will need one all to herself for a bit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hayes bustled off to carry out her orders.

Harriett ran a gentle finger over the soft, fawn-colored down now growing in above the baby’s ears. Thank heaven it wasn’t dark like Oxenden’s or Arabella’s. She tucked in a corner of the blanket and smiled as the babe grasped her thumb in her tiny fist. “You’ll be safe here, little Eudora.”

She came every day to see the babe. At first, she only visited the nursery once or twice, as was her custom, but after a few days she began to come more often. Then she began bringing Roland with her. As though Fate had conspired to help them in their plans, another newborn girl was abandoned at the Hospital the following week. Roland was present for her arrival and intake and was thus tasked with naming her. She was dubbed Isabelle.

By the time Arabella arrived for the wedding, everyone at the Hospital knew the newlyweds had developed a soft spot for the little pair, now affectionately referred to as “the Manchester darlings.”

Harriett watched as two footmen came forth bearing a sedan chair to carry Arabella up the front steps. It was completely unnecessary, of course, but she thought it best to maintain her sister’s appearance of fragility. Elizabeth had already visited twice, and she didn’t want anything to jeopardize the impression that Arabella had been gravely ill.

Seeing her sister now, she thought there was little need for such subterfuge. Arabella was thin and wan and had dark circles under her eyes. The sight of her struck quiet terror into Harriett’s heart. Had she truly been stricken with some malady?

“Tell me of Eudora,” demanded Arabella the instant they were behind closed doors. “Is she eating? Is she well?”

“She is quite well,” Harriett reassured her. “She is growing daily and is in perfect health. But what has happened to you? You look utterly exhausted.”

“I have not slept properly since Mrs. Jenkins took her,” said her sister, tears sliding down her face. “Oh, Harriett, I miss her
so
much—I’ve hardly been able to bear it! It’s as though part of my heart has been torn from me. I didn’t think I’d feel this way...I never expected...” She dissolved into quiet sobs.

Harriett could only hold her and murmur soothing reassurances. Hearing Arabella say such a thing was quite a surprise, considering how spoiled and self-absorbed she’d been all her short life.

“I want to see her,” said her sister through her sniffles.

“And you will in just a few more days—”

“No! I want to see her. Tomorrow. I’ll disguise myself as a servant, I’ll—”

“You’ll jeopardize all of our careful plans!” Harriett said with quiet heat. “If the servants were to learn of your leaving here in disguise, if someone at the Hospital were to see you and make the connection, there is
no
amount of money that would silence the rumors.”

Arabella broke down further, and Harriett gentled her tone. “You
must
trust me, Bella. Unless you want everyone to know she is your child and illegitimate, you absolutely must keep to the plan. I know it is hard, but it is only temporary. The day after Cat marries, I
will
bring Eudora home. In the meantime, you must learn to school your reactions. You cannot imagine how quickly the servants’ gossip will spread throughout London if you burst into hysterics upon seeing her.”

“I cannot help it,” whispered her sister, mopping her swollen face. “I’ve been so worried about her, and I’ve felt so alone since Mrs. Jenkins took her. I know it was the only way, but it’s been so hard.”

Harriett bit her lip. Obviously, her sister was suffering the acute melancholy that sometimes befell new mothers. “I think perhaps I ought to arrange for you to be reunited with Eudora in private, at least for a short while. But afterward, until we are well out of London and away from its pricking ears and prying eyes, you must be strong and hold yourself together. For your daughter’s sake. Can you do it?”

“Yes,” said her sister after a moment. She squared her shoulders and faced her with trembling lips. “For Eudora.”

“There is something else,” Harriett added. “Roland and I have decided to adopt another little girl along with Eudora. He thinks it’ll serve to further throw people off the scent. Her name is Isabelle, and she’s about a week or so younger, so they’ll grow up as companions. I’m going to speak to Papa about bringing Mrs. Jenkins and Katie on to help. He can’t afford them anyway, and I’d rather they were with us than with strangers.”

Her sister’s eyes lit with hope, but then dulled again. “Katie won’t be coming. Jeremy has asked her to marry him. He was offered an apprenticeship with a silversmith in Reading, and she is to work as a lady’s maid for a family there. I think Mrs. Jenkins planned to return to London to do for Papa, but I’m not certain.”

Which meant they would need to hire additional help when they got to Cambridgeshire. “We’ll worry about that when the time comes,” Harriett said, pushing it aside for the moment. “Now, until we bring Eudora home I want you to get plenty of rest, eat every bite of every meal, and stop your fretting. Eudora is receiving the best care and will be with you before you know it. Cat’s wedding is just around the corner. I’ve had a new gown commissioned for you based on your measurements before you left London. We are to have you fitted tomorrow, provided you are well enough.”

“And what of Elizabeth?” asked Arabella, her quavering voice belying her calm expression. “She’ll be there, won’t she?”

There was no point in prevaricating. “Yes. She’s already in London and has been to visit me three times since my return. But not to worry, you’ll attend in a chair and we’ll keep you well separated.”

A scary, blank expression crept over Arabella’s face. “Because of my selfishness and lack of judgment, I have lost a sister and gained a lifetime of secrets and shame.”

“You have also gained a beautiful daughter,” Harriett insisted, grabbing her hand. “And you’ll both have a happy home with me.”

“I don’t deserve it.” Her sister’s lips became a hard, bitter line. “I stole Elizabeth’s happiness. I tempted him, Harriett. I deliberately dressed and behaved in such a manner as to draw his attention. I never expected him to respond as he did. When he did, I was so unprepared. I didn’t know how to—”

“Stop it,” Harriett commanded. “You were only trying your wings as young girls often do their first year out. You simply happened to do so around a man with no honor.” She hesitated, but then decided to forge ahead. Arabella needed to know the truth. “Elizabeth blamed it all on you at first, just as you are blaming yourself now, but she has since discovered that Oxenden’s perfidy was not limited to his seduction of you.”