Page 27 of Taming of the Rake
David stroked his jaw. “So … they bring the papers to you instead of delivering them. For how long?”
“Until she figures out what they’re up to.”
“What then?”
“Then, I help those boys find other employment. And if it isn’t enough to stop her, I have other means at my disposal.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, David grinned. “Ben, you’re a genius. You’re as mad as a March hare … but a genius nonetheless.”
Benedict slapped his back with a chuckle. “Leave it to me, and this will all be over soon. When do you return to Lancashire?”
“Today, I think. I have matters to attend back home.”
Guiding him far enough from the other men that they wouldn’t be overheard, Ben lowered his voice. “And all is well with Mrs. Hurst? If not, say so and I will find you someone else right away. Or rather, I’ll get Lyons on the job. He is certainly earning his wages these days.”
David avoided Benedict’s gaze at the mention of his keeper. He had visited her three more times since that first night, and had promised to return to her bed the moment he made it back to Lancashire. Each appointment had been much the same as the last, with her lying under him all but motionless without looking at him, and David trying his damnedest to pretend it didn’t bother him. In truth, it haunted him, knowing that the woman neither wanted nor enjoyed his attentions.
It wasn’t a question of his pride so much as the reason for her reticence. When he began to think on the matter, the conclusions his mind led him to were distasteful. For, surely there was more to the matter than he’d first thought. Randolph Hurst had certainly been a philanderer and an insensitive brute. But, David was beginning to suspect he’d hurt Regina in ways that went beyond the emotional. Such thoughts had made the night before his departure for London difficult, with David counting the seconds until it was over so he could escape the room and scrub himself clean with the hottest water he could stand.
“Regina and I are getting on well enough,” he hedged. “She’s lovely, if a bit quiet and withdrawn.”
Benedict’s grin turned wicked, his eyes knowing and bright in the torchlight. “If anyone can draw her out of her shell, it would be you.”
In the past, David would have wholeheartedly agreed. But, how was he to do that when Regina had made it clear she wouldn’t appreciate any such effort?
He forced a smile of his own. “Quite right. Thank you for sending for me. I knew you had things well in hand, but I feel better knowing there’s a plan in motion. What of the others?”
“Hugh and Evelyn left for Norfolk just before you arrived. He has an architectural landscape to paint, and you know he doesn’t like to go anywhere without Evie. Nick and Aubrey are still away on their wedding trips and will be for at least a few more weeks. Perhaps longer for Nick. I received a letter from him last week. Apparently, word of the column in which he was mentioned made it to him in Paris.”
David winced. “I’m certain Calliope didn’t take that well.”
“According to Nick, not well at all, but she is angrier with the Gossip and the woman who leaked the information than she is with her husband. They’ll likely remain in France through the New Year, though when I wrote him back, I assured him there was nothing to worry about. I will not allow his name to be connected to the agency. I won’t let it happen to any of you.”
If David could have faith in anything without question, it was the ironclad truth of Benedict’s words. They were always sure to be followed with swift and decisive action.
“Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
“I think not,” Ben said. “Go home, David. Take care of your family. Leeds, see him back to his carriage, would you?”
One of the torch-bearing men pulled away from the others, giving David a silent nod. Hands shoved into the pockets of his greatcoat, David went back the way he’d come with more confidence in his gait and a small weight lifted off his shoulders. There was, of course, plenty for him to concern himself with back in Lancashire, but the journey home would be less nerve-wracking with the security of the funds he was bringing with him. It wasn’t much, but there would be coal in the hearths, fabric for his mother and sisters to have mourning garments that weren’t falling apart, and food that wouldn’t make him want to slit his own throat from lack of variety.
During to the drive back to his hotel, David’s thoughts landed back on Regina. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the trajectory of his mind. It was a damned problem. He would have much preferred to pretend she did not exist until the time came for him to visit her bed yet again. Aside from being a problem, it was also an aggravation, because he couldn’t think of a time when having a new keeper did not fill him with expectation and excitement. The courtship phase had always been his favorite—learning a new client, coming to understand the inner workings of her body and mind. There was none of that with Regina.
In a few weeks he would know whether their efforts had been successful, and if she would require him for another month. Needing the promised income, he was torn between wanting the arrangement to last until spring and praying she would turn up pregnant as soon as possible.
Resting his head on the squabs, he closed his eyes and tried to steal as much sleep as he could before it inevitably became time to face the world again.
Regina staredup at the man kneeling between her parted knees in the dimmed lighting of her bedchamber. After ten days away from Lancashire, David had returned, ready to resume his obligation. He had arrived an hour later than their established time, citing the rain as his excuse and apologizing profusely. Despite being annoyed with him for keeping her waiting and sharpening the edge of the anxiety she’d been wrestling with all day, Regina had accepted his apology and led him to her bed. Several valuable opportunities for him to get her with child had already been wasted during his trip—though she wanted to be understanding that the man had a life outside her needs of him. He was here now, and she would take advantage of it.
There was a crisp layer of cold winter air clinging to him tonight, tangling with the sandalwood and his natural, masculine scent. He had towel-dried his hair, but the damp strands had begun to curl about his neck and forehead in a way she found intriguing.
Regina closed her eyes and waited for him to begin. He was taking his time tonight, a departure from the last few nights he had visited her. Instead of casually flipping up her nightgown, he slowly drew it up, his fingertips skimming the inside of one thigh. She shivered, goose bumps rippling along her bared skin. Yet, she wasn’t cold—quite the contrary. Heat flared low in her belly as he stroked his way toward her quim, his breath slow and steady in the silence of the room.
Regina’s parted legs began to tremble, her breasts heaving beneath the drape of her nightgown, her breath quickening at the whisper-soft stroke of his touch along the seam of her lower lips. What was he doing? There was nothing efficient about his ministrations, and she could hardly make sense of it. His visits had taken on an almost comforting monotony, and Regina had come to expect certain things from him. However, there was something different in his touch tonight, as if he wanted tosavorthe moments leading up to the actual act. She had never experienced anything like it. Weren’t men accustomed to speeding through the pleasantries so they could sink their prick into a warm, dark hole?
Her mind turned into mush when he finally found what she’d come to think of as her ‘pleasure spot.’ He never lingered there more than a few minutes—just long enough to coax that embarrassing wetness from deep inside her. Tonight, however, he took up a slow, circular rhythm, sending the most unnerving flutters through her. Her gut clenched when he pressed down, and her eyes flew open, lips parted to ask him to stop. He would hurt her. His touch was too … oh, God. It didn’t hurt. The pressure was unlike anything she had ever known or imagined. A ragged breath tore from between her parted lips, but nothing else came forth as he quickened his circling thumb, rubbing and sending sparks jumping along her nerves.
David’s gaze was focused intently between her legs, a forelock of hair tumbling over his brow. The shadows hid his expression from her, but she could see his lips, parted and slick as if he’d just licked them. Her sheath clenched around air, the involuntary spasms of muscle both shocking and confusing. It was as if a part of her was coming alive, one she hadn’t known existed until David prodded at it with his skilled fingers.
