Page 46 of His Scandalous Lessons
“Did he?” She smiled. “That’s lovely.”
Richard tipped up her chin. “If he feels for her a fraction of what I do for you, he’d follow her clear across the earth. He’d do anything.”
Anything. She’d do anything for him in return. After dealing with her father, following someone she loved across the world seemed the easier journey. She felt, sometimes, as if they were already separated by some vast ocean, passing each other like hailing ships. Finding time where they could.
They had only hours in this room, before the sun came up. Before he had to leave. She wanted to make the most of it.
But when she leaned forward to kiss him, Richard gently pushed her away. “Wait. I had something to say to you about Kendal.” His grip on her shoulders tightened. “Don’t be alone with him if you can help it.”
Anne swallowed. “What have you found out?”
“Nothing yet, but I’m looking into a few things. Have you ever visited his estate? Or his London house?”
“The London house a few times, and I visited his estate once with my father. It was an immense, cold place, and very quiet. He only maintains a loyal skeleton staff for his privacy at both.”
“Were there any children at either place?”
“Not that I recall.” She thought back. “The silence was disconcerting. I remember thinking it odd that I couldn’t even hear the staff moving about at either place. When I remarked on it to my father, he said it was a fine thing. That staff should not be heard while they went about their duties.” She could hardly stop the disgust from entering her voice. “Why do you ask about children?”
“He’s adopted a number of children from orphanages in the East End. Discreetly, of course. He hires men to collect them from the rookeries. Children who wouldn’t be missed if they were never seen again.” Richard cupped her cheek. “Anne...what I find may not end well for your father. Are you prepared for that?”
Anne shook her head. “No. But I have to be.”
Richard pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart.”
She clung to him, letting him be her anchor. It wasn’t her father that concerned her, that made her chest ache, but the idea of him. Of what her life might have been like if he had any regard for her at all as a daughter. But no, she was an instrument, there to be used and sold and discarded as he wished.
As if understanding her inner turmoil, Richard stroked her back. He whispered soft words of comfort. For she was no instrument to this man. She was a woman, and she was his equal, and he treated her as such.
Anne held him close. Their time was so limited. He was hers for these few hours before the sun came up over the City.
“I need you,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his chin.
He responded in kind, capturing her lips with hers. He treated her gently now, as if he understood that she needed this. His touch, his comfort. Just him.
But when she breathed, “Fuck me,” Richard pulled back.
He stared down at her, stroking a fingertip across her cheek. “We don’t fuck.”
She frowned. “That’s the word you use.”
“That’s the word I use, but that’s not —” He swore softly, shoving a hand through his hair. “We make love. You and me, we make love.”
“Richard—”
He kissed her again, so softly. “I love you, Anne.”
Before she could respond, he was unbuttoning her clothes with a quickness that hinged on desperation. His need inflamed her, and she responded in kind. Men’s clothes were easier; there were fewer layers to reach skin, and she thanked god for it. She had him naked more quickly than he had her, and in those brief seconds before their bodies met, she admired the beauty of his form. The way the shadows emphasized his musculature. The way the light caught his eyes and she could see the desire there.
Desire for her.
“I love you,” he said, pressing her down to the bed. His body was warm as it stretched over hers. “I love you.”
He slid inside her with a rough groan. Their lovemaking was hurried, but gentle. Anne could never get enough of this, of how he felt moving over her, within her. He whispered her name as if it were some revelation, an answer to a question he’d wondered for ages. When it was over, he held her against him. She fell asleep to him telling her he loved her once more.
Hours later, when the sun woke her, the bed had already gone cold.
Chapter 26
