Page 112 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Chapter 28
When they entered the bedchamber, Francisca cast Charley a steely-eyed gaze.
He would lock all the damn doors tonight, he would. They would stay abed until at least noon.
He released his hold on Gracie’s arm, went to the table, and poured two glasses of wine.
Gracie went to Francisca and a whispered conversation ensued, Spanish flying between the two women. The older woman’s stolid gaze softened, and as her questions were answered went stony again.
The servants had indeed not known about Reina’s parentage. How remarkable.
Juan’s interest had been heartfelt and circumspect. Francisca wanted answers, so many that Charley was pouring himself a second glass, and both women were crying.
And hugging. Francisca fell into Gracie’s arms, and they clutched each other as if both of them had just survived a catastrophe.
It was an entirely un-English maneuver.
Then the wiry maid was gripping his hand, perilously close to hugging him.
He bent over the thin hands and thanked her for her loyalty to Gracie and Reina, and promised to protect all of them, including Francisca and Juan. Francisca whispered back, apologies, best wishes and promises of service, patted his shoulder and disappeared from the room.
He met Gracie’s stunned gaze. In the lamplight, her eyes glowed with tears.
“Well,” he said. “She took that gracefully.”
She inhaled deeply, and let her breath out, her shoulders sagging.
“It’s a night for truth-telling,” he said.
Gracie straightened and a smile touched her lips. “Yes.”
“And, apparently, hugging.” Charley opened his arms. She flung herself into them.
The hugging was brief. She pulled his head down, pressed her lips to his, and then her hands went to work, pushing his coats off, untying his neck cloth, unfastening his fall.
Need filled him and drove him, his hands on her clothing clumsy. He heard fabric rip and her dress shimmied to the floor.
She turned in his arms. “Get these stays off me, Charley.”
He loosened her lacings, raked his fingers through her hair, letting the pins and combs fly, and turned her around again.
They were down to chemise and shirt and stockings.
She moved close and slid her hand between them, gazing up wickedly. “I shall hold you tonight.”
He gasped, and clasped his hand over hers. “Stop.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, searching for a distraction, something to slow his passion. “Else I will pop like a schoolboy before we’ve even begun.”
“Like you did last night?” she asked, grinning.
Delectable. Beautiful. His.
He pulled her hand away, shed the rest of his clothes, picked her up, and carried her to the bed.
Small hands tugged at his shoulders, surprisingly strong, pulling him in for another kiss. Her hands found his back, caressing him everywhere, teasing him.
He flipped onto his back taking her with him. Her hair veiled them, her breasts plumped on his chest.
“Tonight you must finish the lessons,” she said.
