Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two (14 page)

“You saw her, Alastair!” Lucien
yelled. “It doesn't matter if she was unrelated to the case. A child died in
front of us. She starved to death next to her dead mother.”

Alastair waited. Lucien was emotional
and not thinking logically.

“I understand that you're affected
by what you witnessed…” Lucien cut him off.

“Aren't you? How could you not be affected?
She was just a child!” He looked disappointed and sad.

“My feelings won't change the
outcome, Lucien. There was nothing we could do for her. If you walk through the
slums, you'll find hundreds of little girls on the verge of starving to death.
We can't save them any more than we could her. If you want to help them, open
good orphanages.” He said calmly. Lucien threw his hands up and slumped against
the cushions. “I’m sorry. If I reacted as you did to each wretched soul I
encountered in the course of my investigations, I wouldn't be effective. The
best thing we can do for little girls like Charlotte is put an end to white
slavery and make sure there are clean brothels. I can assure you, her life was
not full of sweets and poppets and trips to the park. From what I saw, her
mother probably sold flowers or oranges and may have sold herself as well. I
wouldn't be surprised if little Charlotte hasn't already worked as a brothel
servant.”

“That doesn't mean they deserved to
die, Alastair.” Lucien said coldly. Alastair paused and considered the comment.
He was angry and reacting irrationally.

“I didn't say they did, nor do I
believe that. The entire scene was a tragedy, Lucien. But not uncommon in the
stews and slums. It's merely the reality. It may be related to our
investigation or their presence might have been a coincidence. We may know more
after Digby looks into it. You and Gilles would rush off to avenge this woman
and little girl when there may be no one to exact revenge upon. Or, there may
be a hundred Charlottes to avenge. I would prefer to stop the Whitroses so that
there are fewer men to prey on the Charlottes that survive their tragic
childhoods.” Alastair leaned back and watched Lucien consider all he said.
Eventually, he nodded and relaxed. He sighed and Alastair saw that he looked
haggard. “Will you be alright?” Lucien nodded as he stared out the window.

“I will be. I just want to go home
and lose myself in a hot bath and Mirabelle.” His voice sounded far away,
Alastair knew he was thinking of the little girl and wanted to be out of the
carriage as soon as possible.

He didn't even wait for it to come
to a complete stop before he jumped out and ran up the steps and into Clerendon
House. Alastair watched him disappear within and closed the carriage door. He
settled in his seat and banged on the roof. Home and a bath sounded like a good
idea. For the first time, Alastair wished he wasn't going home to an empty
house. He wriggled his shoulders as he pushed the thought away.

“Burn the gloves and the jacket,
Joss.” Lucien said as he handed the items to his butler. He looked up as
Mirabelle stepped into the hall.

“You're back!” The smile died on
her lips as she looked at him. “What happened? Where do you go?” She ran
towards Lucien and he pulled her to him as soon as she was close enough. He
closed his eyes and held her tight.
She smells like heaven
. He thought.
He hoped that little Charlotte and her mother were surrounded by lavender and
jasmine.

“It was terrible. I need a bath and
I need you. Can we go to bed and stay there for the rest of the day?” Lucien
pulled back and looked into Mirabelle's eyes. He saw her concern and her love
for him. He also saw their childhood and Winthorpe. He saw the fields and
forests, them rolling in the grass and her hanging upside down from tree
branches. She smiled softly and nodded.

“Of course!” She whispered as she
pulled his face to hers. Lucien shut his eyes and felt peace and warmth pushing
out the heartbreak and evil he'd witnessed that afternoon. Mirabelle's lips
brushed against his and he knew the world had to be full of more beautiful
things than dark and ugly. She couldn't exist in a world that wasn't good.
“Come along, then.” She said softly as she turned and led him up the stairs.

Lucien let her help him with his
clothes. As Mirabelle peeled away each layer, he felt the warehouse falling
away from him. He put the clothes in the hall; he'd make sure they were
disposed of later. He felt profoundly grateful for her as he carefully undid
the buttons and laces of her dress and chemise. He thanked God for the
miraculous perfection of her body as he slid her stockings down her legs and
knew he was as close to heaven as a man could get when he shook her hair loose
and buried his face in it.

When they were in the tub,
Mirabelle coaxed the details of the afternoon from Lucien. She listened and
cried as she bathed him, as if she was helping him wash the horrible events of
the day away from his soul, along with the dust and dirt from the warehouse. As
Lucien bathed her, he felt as if he was worshiping a healing deity.

After they were rinsed and dried,
Mirabelle took Lucien's hand and led him to her bed. She kissed him and guided
him until he was on his back and she was over him. Her hair hung about him, a
fiery cascade around his face and shoulders in the late afternoon light. She
rained kisses over his lips, cheeks, brow and chin before settling her lips
against his. Their tongues tangled as her fingers slid down his neck. Lucien
let his hands glide over the planes of her back, bottom and thighs, as if he
could claim more of the calm he found in her, the more he touched her. He felt
her slide against him and arch until his erection pressed against her hot, wet
core and slid in. She angled her head and deepened their kiss as she began
moving against him. Mirabelle wrapped her arms around Lucien and rode him
slowly.

Neither seemed in a rush, both
content to hide within each other from the horrors of the day. Both sought the shelter
of the other’s mouth and found peace in the way their bodies connected. The
slide of skin against skin soothed and warmed them as their arms wrapped
protectively around one another. They danced together slowly, silently. Lucien
rolled them so that Mirabelle could wrap her legs around his waist and he could
settle fully within her but he kept the pace slow and gentle. There were times
when they drifted towards sleep; they were so relaxed and serene.

When they both finally let their
release take them, it was stunning. Lucien felt Mirabelle’s arms and legs
pulling him tighter and tighter into her as her soul caressed his tongue. When
she shattered in his arms, his name came from her lips as a gasp and she
whispered “I love you.” A moment later, he felt as if he was truly being pulled
into her as he exploded and his seed poured from him. He shut his eyes as he
called to her, the world filled with bright light and his body ceased to exist.
Wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through him. When they finally subsided he
was completely spent.

“I love you. I love you so much,
Mirabelle.” He whispered the words against the corner of her neck before he let
go and let sleep claim him.

Chapter 27

            The Haverford ballroom was a crush. Some clod
had stumbled and spilled champagne all over Mirabelle’s sleeve. Lucien behaved
as if he'd ripped her arm off and insisted on escorting her to a retiring room.
A maid had been helpful and they managed to dab most of it away until the
sleeve was almost dry. When Mirabelle stepped into the hall she stood on her
tiptoes until she spied Lucien’s back, he was leaning against a column. She could
see that he was in the midst of a conversation but could see nothing of the
person he was talking to. As she approached, Mirabelle reached for Lucien’s arm
and heard a woman’s voice. She was pouting. Mirabelle froze and listened.

“You can't mean that, Lucien! You
know I will be discreet.” Her accent suggested she was Prussian or Austrian.

“I'm sorry, fräulein.” His voice
was low and smooth. “I've married, our arrangement is over.”

“We always had so much fun.” She
purred. Mirabelle felt her eye twitch. “Just because you're married doesn't
mean you no longer have needs. Do you forget how much you enjoyed how I used
to…” She attempted to lean forward and whisper but Lucien stopped her.

“No, Astrid. My wife is quite
demanding and more than capable of seeing to my needs.” He drawled. “I’m afraid
she leaves me with very little energy for other… pursuits.”

“Such a shame, Lucien. I will wait.
When you have become bored, you may call on me.” Mirabelle was about to make
her presence known and inform the “fräulein” as to what she could do while she
waited when Lucien chuckled. She stilled.

“There is no chance of that, I can
assure you.” The woman gasped.

“If I did not know better, I would
think you were in love with your wife, liebling.” Mirabelle detected sarcasm.

“Hopelessly. I'm afraid I've been
reformed.” Mirabelle suddenly felt as if her feet were leaving the floor and the
room became warmer.

“Your wife must be very lovely and
talented. Perhaps she might be interested in ménage à trois?” Mirabelle's jaw
dropped. She felt Lucien tense and stared at his back.

“Absolutely not. I could never
share her.” His voice was gravely. Mirabelle knew he'd imagined something and
was affected. She couldn't blame him. She was too. So much so that she
continued to stare at his back, blinking and mouth agape. The woman sighed.

“I'm very disappointed. How shall I
entertain myself?”

“I think I can be of assistance. Do
you know Ridgeworth?”

“I have seen him in passing.”
Mirabelle could hear that she was intrigued. Lucien laughed softly.

“He recently parted with his
mistress. I can write to him tomorrow, if you'd like.”

“I would be most grateful.” She
sounded as if she was going to touch Lucien again. Mirabelle decided she'd
heard enough. She stepped forward and grabbed Lucien’s arm.

“There you are! I think we managed
to get most of it. I don't think it looks too obvious.” Mirabelle tried to
sound as nonchalant as possible and looked up. “Oh! Hello!” She smiled brightly
as she let her eyes sweep over the woman in front of Lucien. She had to mask
her surprise. The woman had to be in her middle to late forties and she was
exceptionally beautiful. She was tall with blonde hair and carried herself
regally. Mirabelle was loath to admit that her silver gown was quite elegant
and flattered her slender figure. With the exception of her ample breasts, she
was willowy and delicate. She made Mirabelle feel like a cow. Lucien cleared
his throat and tugged at his cravat.

“Archduchess Astrid Karoline of Austria
may I present my wife, Her Grace, the Duchess of Clerendon.”Mirabelle managed
to keep her jaw from dropping as she looked up at Lucien. She dropped to a
curtsy and nodded when the woman returned the gesture. The woman’s eyes
appraised Mirabelle from head to toe and for a moment she felt inadequate. Then,
she saw her lick her lips seductively, her gaze flicked to Lucien before
returning to Mirabelle. She smiled suggestively.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”
She purred. “Your husband has told me much about you.” Lucien cleared his
throat again and placed Mirabelle's hand on his arm.

“If you'll excuse us. It was a
pleasure to see you again; I'll make sure to write that letter first thing
tomorrow.” He very nearly dragged Mirabelle back towards the ballroom. He was
only able to manage a few steps before she stopped and tugged on his arm. He was
tense when he looked down.

“I want to go home. Now.” She
whispered. Lucien nodded and turned them towards the door.

It took them ten minutes to
negotiate the crowd and another five for their carriage to be found. Mirabelle
was still in shock. Lucien was taut next to her and she heard him muttering
curses as the carriage was brought around. He handed her in as soon as the door
was opened and took the seat opposite her. As soon as the door was closed, he
sagged against the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I'm so sorry, Mirabelle. If you'll
just let me explain…” Lucien leaned forward and gestured towards Haverford
House. For a moment his mouth just opened and closed. He thought she was angry.
For a moment, Mirabelle considered letting him flounder. It was adorable. She
decided it was too cruel. She wasn't upset. She was so touched by his comments
and wildly aroused knowing that he would prefer her over a woman like that.

“Did you imagine me with her?”
Mirabelle whispered as she slid to the edge of the seat. Lucien's head snapped
in her direction. He tried to speak but nothing came out. He swallowed loudly.

“How much did you hear?” His voice
rasped and Mirabelle was sure she could hear his heart pounding within his
chest.

“Everything.” Her voice was little
more than a breath; her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tugged at the bow in
the middle of her bodice. Lucien sat back and watched as she unlaced it and
then pulled so that her cleavage gaped. He groaned and licked his lips as he
unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat. She reached for the blind and pulled it,
plunging the cabin into darkness before she launched herself at him.

Mirabelle was in his lap, astride
him. She took his face in her hands and pulled him to her. Their mouths pressed
together, their tongues dueled as they panted in the dark. Lucien grabbed her
bodice and tugged until she felt her breasts spill out. He filled his hands and
his thumbs brushed her nipples. Mirabelle pulled back and gasped. She arched
and felt his lips against her throat. Heat exploded and she felt herself
becoming wet, she was so heavy between her thighs. Lucien lifted her breast and
his lips closed about her nipple. Mirabelle sobbed as he started to suckle
hungrily.

“Please!” She moaned. “I need you!”

His hands gripped her thighs and
slid behind her. He shifted lower in the seat and pulled her forward so he
could reach the buttons of his breeches. A moment later, Mirabelle felt Lucien's
hands sliding up her calves and he slid her skirts up to her waist. She
shivered and rose on her knees. His hands worked between her thighs and she
felt the head of his erection against her. He hissed as he rubbed it against
her slick entrance. Mirabelle lowered and felt him filling her.

“Ooh, my God.” Lucien groaned as
she slid down. He found her lips and kissed her deeply as he filled his hands
with the globes of her derrière. She gripped his shoulders and rose slowly,
savoring the friction of him rubbing inside of her. His hands started moving,
caressing her bottom and thighs as she raised herself. “Find the rhythm of the
horses’ gait. Just like you’re riding.” His voice was hoarse and damp against
her skin.

Mirabelle picked up her pace,
sliding and rising in time with the rocking of the carriage. She began
squeezing and relaxing the muscles that wrapped around Lucien's cock as she
rode him. His head fell back as he cursed. She made a mental note to thank
Elise. After overhearing Gilles and her, Mirabelle had asked what Elise had
done to make him delirious. She had described the way she “squeezed him
intimately”. At the time, Mirabelle had no idea how valuable that information
would be once she was married. It drove Lucien wild.

He slid his hands around her thighs
and found her damp curls. He pressed his thumb against the delicate pearl
within her folds as his tongue found her nipple. He flicked at it as he rubbed.
Mirabelle shrieked and bucked against him. Lucien pulled her nipple between his
lips and grazed her with his teeth. She hauled in a desperate breath as she
felt her nerves tighten and coil within her. He started rocking his hips
against her and suckled harder. Suddenly, stars exploded behind her eyelids and
she was momentarily paralyzed as lightening pulsed through her. Mirabelle
screamed and her body convulsed. As if from far away, she heard Lucien call her
name, he pulled her hard against him as thrust into her. He arched and gasped as
his arms wrapped around her. A heartbeat later, he collapsed against the
cushions and she melted against his chest.

They were still for several
minutes. Mirabelle could feel Lucien’s heart beating against her. She sighed
contentedly, wrapped in his arms and drowsy. The last hour replayed in her mind
and she laughed.

“Hmm?”

“That was…” She couldn't make sense
of it all.

“Remarkable? Divine? Satisfying?”
He offered as he nuzzled her neck.

“Not that.” She pushed and sat up.

“Oh.” Was he pouting?

“An archduchess, Lucien! Really?”
She knew he'd been in demand but she had never imagined anything like that. He
shrugged.

“She’s just a woman; her title did
nothing for me.” His lips were pressed into the corner of her neck and she felt
his tongue stroke her skin.

“She was quite beautiful.”
Mirabelle shivered as he nipped her shoulder.

“Yes. But you're more beautiful.”
He ran his tongue all the way up to her ear lobe. “And you taste better.”

“Please. She's in an entirely
different class.” Mirabelle countered. Lucien shook his head and went back to
nibbling on her ear.

“You're so very wrong, my love.” He
was still inside of her and she could feel him starting to harden. She licked
her lips and for once was glad that it was a longer ride back from Richmond.

“You have to say that, you're my
husband.” She sighed as hips started moving.

“Exactly. I married you.”  His lips
traced her cheek until they brushed against her lips.

“Not just because of my appearance.
And it's not as if you could have married her.” Lucien stilled and lifted his
head. He shrugged.

“I could have. I just didn't want
to.” He lowered his lips and started thrusting again. Mirabelle pulled back.

“You could have married her?” She
was thoroughly shocked. Lucien sighed and stilled.

“Yes. I suppose. She did hint at it
for some time.” She could sense that he was becoming frustrated.

“And you didn't because…?” She
couldn't help herself.

“I didn't want to. I didn't want to
marry anyone and the idea of marrying her didn't appeal.” He found her hand and
brought it to his lips; he licked her wrist and began to nibble.

“But from what she said, it's clear
that things were very good between you two.” Mirabelle whispered. It was so
unlike her to feel insecure but it was hard not to in this case. She felt
Lucien’s hands move up her body until they cradled her face.

“You're better, Mirabelle. It's so
much better with you.” As if to show her he kissed her hungrily and grabbed her
waist and started moving her upon his cock, it was hard and his hands started
to stroke and knead desperately. A wicked thought took hold. She pulled her
lips from his.

“What she said, about the three of
us… You considered it.” Mirabelle traced his lips with hers. He shook his head.

“Imagined it, yes. Considered it,
no. There's a very big difference.” His tongue tickled the corner of her lips. His
voice was becoming strained as his breathing became labored. She felt his hands
wrap around her breasts.

“I like when you imagine naughty
things about me.” She recalled the letters and could feel herself becoming
wetter. She squeezed around Lucien causing him to growl. He pulled her harder
against him as he undulated beneath her. “Tell me what you imagined, Lucien.” Mirabelle
felt his lips curve against hers. They cruised along her cheek to her ear.

“You were naked in her arms and I
was watching.” His voice was so deep and hot against her ear; she shivered and
bucked against him. He took her nipples between his fingers and rolled them.
Mirabelle felt her eyes roll and she moaned. “She was licking and sucking your
breasts.” She let her head fall and arched her back, pressing her breasts
forward. Lucien ducked his head and she felt his lips close around her nipple.
His hand pressed against her bottom as he ground against her. Mirabelle fisted
her hands in his hair and cried his name as she shattered. A moment later, Lucien
shouted as he exploded within her.

Boneless and exhausted, Mirabelle started
to drift off in Lucien’s arms. His hands stroked along her spine soothingly.
Neither felt the need to talk as the city closed around the carriage. She knew
they were almost home when he sighed. He lifted her off of him and set her on the
opposite bench. She heard him shifting and knew he was fixing his trousers and attempting
to right his appearance. He leaned forward and his coat fell over her
shoulders. Mirabelle smiled and pulled it tight around her. Lucien must have sensed
that she was incapable of pulling herself together.

The carriage came to a halt and the
door opened. Mirabelle blinked at the lights and waited for her eyes to adjust
as Lucien stepped out. He offered his hand to help her down. She stood and
realized that one of her shoes was missing. She turned and scanned the floor
but it was too dark.

“I've lost a slipper.” She mumbled.