Wedded in Scandal (23 page)

Then the meal was done, the dishes removed, and Lord Redhill was taking her hand as he led her from the table. But they did not return to the couch. No, instead, he grabbed hold of two of the very large pillows and tossed them on the floor right in front of the fire.

“Do you mind?” he asked. “I find this much more comfortable. Lets me stretch out my legs after a large meal.”

“Of course not,” she said because that was what she ought to say. She did not want him to be uncomfortable.

“You needn’t join me,” he said as he leaned back against the table and stretched out his legs. “But I do find it much easier to roast the almonds from here rather than over there.” So saying, he gestured to a bucket of the nuts sitting next to a roasting frame beside the fire.

“But I am so full. I couldn’t possibly eat another thing.”

“Ah,” he said with a laugh. “But we have not yet even begun to talk. Who knows how you will feel in an hour or more?”

“An hour! My goodness, what could we possibly talk about for an hour?”

He shrugged. “Anything you like, Helaine. But do just
come sit here beside me. Save me from having to crane my neck.”

What could she say to that? She didn’t want him to hurt his neck. “Of course, my lord.”

“You must call me Robert.”

She nodded. Of course she would use the Christian name of the man who was helping her settle down beside him.

“Say it, Helaine. Please say it.”

She gazed into the warm depths of his chocolate eyes. They were seated hip to hip, the pillows braced behind them, the fire before them. His arm was behind her, gently encouraging her to lean against his chest. And his face was a few inches away, his mouth even less.

“Say what? Your name?”

“Say yes.”

It nearly killed Robert to wait for her answer. He knew
she wanted to say yes. Her body was already straining for him, her sweet perfume making him half crazed with lust. Her gaze held his, and in it, he read desire, excitement, and a sweet regret.

“N—”

He kissed her. Whatever word was on her lips was erased beneath his onslaught, his gentle domination as he moved his mouth across hers. Then he invaded her as a man ought, with steady pressure and thorough command. She was untutored, so he instructed, he teased, and he thrust himself inside.

She gasped and might have pulled back, but there was nowhere for her to go. He had positioned her with her back against a chair. And besides, he had his arm behind her, the bulk of his body to her side, and his other hand slowly wrapping across her front. When she was fully inside his embrace, he would ease her to the floor. There was a pillow there, conveniently placed. And once he had her on her back, everything would proceed exactly as it ought.

That was his plan, and he knew it would work. She was already arching into his kiss, her body stretching for him, her arm slowly wrapping around his back. But why was she reaching high? She should be clutching him as he overwhelmed her senses, not stretching up so she could reach…

She grabbed hold of his hair and yanked. His head jerked back with a cry.

“Ow!”

Her expression was the ultimate in innocence. “I’m sorry, my lord. Did your head get caught on something? Perhaps it was my word. I believe I said
no
.”

She released his hair and folded her hands primly in her lap. Meanwhile, he was feeling to see if she’d left any hair on his head. Clearly she was a woman who took things at her own pace. He would just have to go slower. And while he was thinking this, she was trying to put them on a more equal footing.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? About your mine?”

He sighed, his thoughts immediately wandering to the problems he had there. It would be good for him to talk it out. It would clear his mind and fill the time before he tried to kiss her again.

“I received yet another letter from the man I promoted to manager. Charlie is his name. Good man, but young. Maybe that was my mistake. The other men don’t respect him.”

She sniffed. “I find that reasons like youth are just excuses. Men invariably do what they intend and damn the circumstances.”

He frowned. “That’s a hell of a cynical attitude.” Too late he realized he had cursed in front of her, but she merely shrugged.

“Johnny Bono will take advantage of whoever comes along if he can. Male, female, young or old, his intention is to feed his appearance of power and virility.”

“Swear to me that you will never do business with that bastard again.”

She shrugged. “I certainly hope I won’t have to. As for your miners, look to their actions. What are their intentions? Then find some way to either use that intention or fire them. You really have no other choice.”

He frowned, startled by her logical thinking. If he weren’t staring right at her, he would swear the advice came from a man. Meanwhile, he was trying to follow her words to their logical conclusion.

“Charlie writes that the previous manager has been stirring up the men. I understand Hutchins well enough. He wants his job back. But I am making the mine better, safer for these men. Why would they turn on me?”

“They’re not turning on you,” she snorted. “You are a viscount and perforce believe that everything relates to you. You make logical steps toward the improvement of their lives, and you don’t understand why everyone doesn’t fall into line with your ideas.”

He sighed. “It has certainly worked before.”

“Or you have merely had the money and the distance to do what you deemed necessary and didn’t look any closer.” She tilted her head and the firelight caught on the delicate tracery of veins in her neck. Her skin was so fine, it seemed almost transparent. Clean and clear. He vowed he’d never seen so beautiful a neck. “What has changed, my lord? Why are you struggling with this business venture and not the others?”

He was so caught up in the sight of her flawless skin that he didn’t at first catch her words. But she was looking at him so frankly, as if expecting an answer.

“My lord?”

“Robert,” he admonished, though the word was automatic. His mind was caught on the shocking realization that she was figuring out the one thing that he kept carefully hidden.

“Very well, Robert. Tell me the truth. Are you really worried about the mine? Or was this just a ruse to get me alone?”

“Yes, I am worried,” he said.

“And yes, it was a ruse. That part I already knew. But if you are truly worried about the miners, then perhaps you should be a bit more specific. What exactly are they doing that is so worrisome?”

He sighed. “Someone has vandalized the equipment. I purchased new carts and ponies to pull them, but someone has destroyed the new ones.” Normally he would just buy new carts and post guards for as long as was needed, and thereby enforce his plans for long enough that the people accepted the new status quo. That was what he had done for his father’s other investments. Eventually the people saw that their lives were better off and accepted the changes. But he hadn’t the money to do such a thing right then. And so he was in the awkward position of having to try to appease vandals and worse.

“Have you posted guards?”

“I have instructed Charlie to do so, but what if those that work as guards are the very ones doing the damage?”

“Can Charlie hire from outside the town? Or would that just be seen as outsiders trying to step in where they aren’t wanted?”

He nodded, impressed again. “You understand my dilemma.”

“I understand stepping into a new place, a new business, and trying to learn the rules. Fortunately I had Wendy to teach me, just as you have Charlie. What does he suggest?”

He grimaced. “That we hire the children again. He believes that is why the carts were destroyed, so that I would be forced to hire the children again.”

“Then I think you should listen to him.”

He straightened. “Did you not hear me talk about the horrendous conditions there? Would you send your child into that pit? Never seeing the sun, in constant danger of fire or gas or cave-in? I have a hard enough time allowing the women to work, but to use children is monstrous!”

She didn’t answer. She was looking at him with her head tilted, her hair slipping free to dangle about her shoulder.
He saw the beauty of her skin again, and his eyes were drawn to it, as well as to lower down where the soft mounds of her breasts were revealed.

“How tight is your money, Robert? Do you have the funds to force your opinion on these people? To pay the children to go to school?”

He grimaced. Yes, she had figured him out exactly. “No,” he snapped. “No, I do not.”

“Then I am afraid you will have to compromise your ethics in favor of slow change, slow growth. You can work to fire the children, one by one, later. But not just yet.”

He looked at her and knew she had come to the exact crux of the problem. He was not a man who compromised easily, and certainly not on the welfare of children. He couldn’t erase the sight of those bones in the tunnel, the ones placed specifically to frighten the children.

“I hate the idea of a child going down in that hole.” So saying, he flopped onto his back. The place where he had meant to lay her down ended up being the pillow for his own head. He stared up at the ceiling and he tried not to see those bones again.

He didn’t. He saw her face as she leaned over him. She touched his cheek, her hand warm, her expression filled with beauty. “You are an overbearing, pompous, opinionated man, my lord. But you are also a good man.”

He waited a moment, deciding whether he would be insulted by her words or not. In the end, he decided she was too beautiful to be at odds with.

“Will you kiss me now?” he asked. “To make me feel better about stealing the sun from little children?”

She laughed. “Of course.” Then she leaned down and planted a quick kiss to his forehead. He was prepared, though. Once she was close, he slid his hand behind her neck. And when she would have pulled away, he did not release her.

“You know,” he said right next to her ear, “you have offended my lordly sensibilities.”

“Have I?” she asked. Her voice was breathy, but no less clear. “By calling you overbearing?”

“And pompous and opinionated.”

“Do you deny the charge?”

“Of course not. It is part of my aristocratic heritage. I would not be allowed the title were I not.”

She arched her brow. “There is overbearing, and then there is
overbearing
.”

“Kiss me again.”

“See, there you are, ordering me—”

He did not allow her more time. He pulled her close and used all his skill. She was in the superior position, so he could not dominate her as was his usual method. Instead, he tried to tempt, to ask, and to cling. This ended up working much too well. Usually when he took his pleasure from a woman, he controlled the pace, making sure they both ended up satisfied.

But in this position, he was forced to please and not take. But it made him crazy with lust. If he allowed it to continue, he would go too fast. He would forget her and take what he wanted. This time, it was he who broke away.

“Helaine,” he gasped. And when he had no more words, he looked back at her, traced her swollen lips with his thumb, and calculated the force he would need to flip her on her back.

She must have read his intention. She must have seen that he was on the edge of his control, because she pulled back, her eyes wide with alarm. It should have cooled his lust, but with distance he could see more of her. He saw how her skin was flushed and her nipples were tightly pressed against her dress. He caught her wrist, holding her beside him when she would have run. “You must know this is why I asked you here today.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“So why do you run?”

She bit her lip, and he found the sight too gamine. She was not a woman who gave in to games. She was clearly
torn, her desire at war with her good sense. He wanted her to cease this indecision and choose him. Choose the pleasure they could share.

“I will not hurt you, Helaine,” he said. “Though I have never done it before, I know how to initiate a virgin.”

She blanched at that, her gaze slipping from his face to his chest, but stopping there. At that point, he realized that perhaps she was not
acting
gamine. Perhaps she really did not know what he was about.

He needed to be more blunt. She was a woman who would be nervous where she did not understand. So he took her hand. She was trembling, resisting his caress, so he simply held her such that her palm pressed against his heart.

“Do you feel that?” he asked. “That is what you do to me. My heart is pounding for you.”

She swallowed, but didn’t speak. Then he slowly drew her hand downward. If she was reluctant before, now she was downright alarmed. But he didn’t release her, and in time her curiosity overcame her fear. Plus, he was relentless, pushing her hand down until she felt the full length and girth of him beneath his clothing.

“Oh!” she gasped. “It’s so hot!”

He didn’t speak. His eyes were rolling back from the pleasure. God, what he wouldn’t give to strip out of his clothing right this instant, to feel her flesh stroking him, kissing him, taking his whole length between her thighs. He wanted that almost as much as he wanted to never move, to never end the sweet torment of her hand on him.