A Wicked Liaison Read online

  ‘He said—’

  ‘Never mind Barton, for a moment. What is it that you want, your Grace?’ He was trailing his fingers over the bare skin of her back and she shuddered with the shock of it.

  And then his hands slipped beneath her chemise, stroking her sides, grazing her breasts. ‘All things being equal, do you wish me to stay?’

  She closed her eyes and tried not to think of what his touch was doing to her, and spoke. ‘Of course I do not want you to go. But—’

  ‘Stop right there.’ He laid a finger on her lips. ‘Do not spoil it with more talking. You have said enough. Now let me help.’

  Oh, dear. She stayed very still as he worked the rest of the laces free.

  It was not as if she objected. But it all would have been easier a night ago, when she was not so frightened. Tonight, passion was the last thing on her mind. But if she could be still and give herself up to Tony, she could keep him away from Barton for the rest of the night. He had been working on her behalf for quite some time and she had done nothing for him but cause him trouble. And if this was to be goodbye, she could not send him away without something.

  It would be better for him if he ran, as she had told him to. She would be alone again, but he would be safe.

  But she did quite miss the comfort of a man’s arms around her, the soft words and gentle kisses.

  He freed the corset and in one smooth move pulled it forward and away from her body and pushed her bodice and chemise to her waist. She was bare before him.

  She closed her eyes, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. She was not old, certainly, but well past her prime. Suppose it was not what he had expected? She opened her eyes to look at him.

  And he did not notice, for he was gazing at her breasts in hungry fascination. He reached up to cup them in his hands, closed his eyes and sighed, and when he looked at her again his smile widened.

  All right. He seemed satisfied in that. And she had to admit that even though her nerves were jangling with dread, the feel of his hands as they caressed her was more than pleasant. There was a low humming in her blood as he looked at her. She was lying to herself to pretend that it would be a hardship to submit to him. And if they did it quickly, he would still be away before Barton tumbled to his whereabouts.

  She reached up and pulled his hand away, ready to lead him to her bed.

  And he shook off her touch and pushed her firmly back against the wall.

  Dear Lord. Did he mean to take her standing up? The humming was a singing in her at the thought. It would not take very long at all, then. Or so she thought. She had never tried it. It would be something that required more co-ordination, more balance, more stamina than she was used to in a partner. It was not something she had experience in. And was unlikely to be gen—

  His lips came down on hers, stopping thought as he took her tongue. His hands grasped her waist and found the strings of her petticoat, undid them and pushed the fabric to the floor, leaving her naked before him.

  He stepped away to admire her.

  She regained her thought. Gentle. He was not likely to be gentle, but she doubted that he would be so rough as to hurt her. She must need remember to relax, when the moment came, to make it easy for him to enter, and perhaps afterwards she could ask him to lie in her bed and hold her for a few minutes, before he had to go.

  Did one ask for such things? She was not sure.

  He was staring at her naked body, and she remembered too late that she should be embarrassed. At the very least, she should do something to help him out of his clothing, since the situation was highly unequal. She reached for the buttons of his waistcoat.

  He seized her by the wrists and pinned them against the wall, and said, his face close to hers, ‘I said I would take care of everything, your Grace.’

  And before she could suggest that under the circumstances he might call her Constance, his mouth was on hers again. She tried to pull her hands free, but he was too strong for her and held her pinned as he took her mouth. His grip on her hands was relaxed but unmovable, and she found she quite liked the feeling of struggling against his hold, the wool of his coat rubbing against her nakedness. And the way her movements seemed to inflame his ki—

  He was kissing her mouth with savage ferocity, and she writhed in his grasp, and with a shudder, she gave herself up to him, going weak and pliant in his arms. Only then did his lips move to her throat, and she could feel his tongue licking and his teeth biting at her pulse and making it jump in response. He released her hands and imprisoned her body between his and the wall, stroking down her back to cup her bottom before taking her by the shoulders and steadying himself as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.

  She tried to catch her breath, now that her mouth was free, but found it impossible. His mouth was greedy and hard against her and his hands slipped to her waist and squeezed, holding her steady as he su—

  Oh, dear Lord. His mouth was on her nipple, pulling hard and his hand slipped between her legs and…

  She pressed her back into the wall to keep from collapsing with the shock of it. He was making love to her with his hands, caressing her legs, spreading her sex and slipping those agile fingers in and out of her. She grabbed at her own hair, and it fell in a shower of pins and rose petals, the curls forming a curtain around him as he kissed her breasts. Then she ran her fingers through the waves in his hair, clutching at the back of his neck to hold his mouth to her and urge him on. Her breath was coming faster, sensations piling on top of sensation. And then subsiding as he pulled his mouth away to…

  He cupped his hand over her sex and slid to his knees before her, trailing kisses down her belly until he came to her navel, setting up a rhythm with his tongue and his hand, until she was rocking against him and pressing herself down on his hand to push his fingers more deeply into her, clutching his shoulders as though he were the only solid thing in the world.

  And he stopped. He lifted his head to look up into her face, dominating her even as he knelt at her feet. And again he smiled, and this time it was in triumph as he thrust into her with one hand, grabbed her hip with the other, and pulled her to his mou…

  And she lost herself, her cares, her body, and her mind, and yet the kiss did not end. She begged him to stop and in the same breath begged him for more, and he laughed against her and began it all again until her legs shook under her and she writhed against him as the feelings rolled through her again and again.

  ‘Your Grace?’

  He pulled away from her at last and laid his head against her thigh, idly kissing the soft flesh.

  ‘Your Grace, is anything the matter?’

  She shook her head, trying to understand what she was hearing.

  ‘Because I heard you cry out.’ Oh, dear, she had forgotten the maid. ‘Your Grace? The door is locked. Do you need assistance?’

  She leaned her head back against the wall, wondering if she could stand any more help for the evening without dying of happiness.

  When Tony smiled up at her, the lazy, carefree grin was back. He bit her hip, and let his fingertips play over the back of her knees.

  ‘Your Grace?’ There was a trace of laughter in her maid’s voice. It had been obvious to Susan what she had been doing. And, Constance suspected, quite loud.

  ‘No, Susan. Do not trouble yourself. I am fine.’ The maid retreated.

  ‘You are fine. Very fine indeed,’ Tony whispered against her belly. ‘And I must go.’

  ‘But you haven’t—’

  ‘But you have. Twice, at least.’ He smiled with pride and rose to take her hands. ‘I told you I would make it all better. I must go and take care of Barton and retrieve your deed and your keys. I suspect he is quite cold and stiff after all this time standing in the street. Whereas I feel most refreshed.’ He let go of her hands and scooped her up in his arms, and she squealed in delight as he carried her to her bed and tossed her under the covers, pulling them over her naked body. ‘You need not fear a visit from him tonight
. Now, go to sleep, and if you would…’ he kissed her ‘…dream of me.’

  ‘Sleep?’ How could he even suggest it?

  ‘I have work yet to do. It is a shame, isn’t it, that in my chosen profession the work begins when the sun goes down, for it leaves me less time to spend with you.’

  ‘But you will come again,’ she whispered. ‘Soon. When you can stay with me.’

  And he grinned. ‘As your Grace pleases.’

  There, he thought with some satisfaction as he climbed out of the window and gained the street. She had left off the notion that he need run for his life. In fact, he was quite sure that she would be most vehemently opposed to his going anywhere without her. And she had forgotten all about sleeping with Barton as well. Although the notion that she would make the ultimate sacrifice for him was flattering, under no circumstances would he allow her to do so.

  But it gave him proof enough that he need no longer worry about Constance’s feelings towards him. She might think that marriage was an impossibility. But there were many other things she seemed ready to agree to, and he would soon teach her that the advantages of becoming his wife might outweigh the negatives of birth and career.

  As he approached his rooms, he saw the shadowy figure concealed in the bushes long before it saw him, which was highly amusing.

  ‘Barton.’ He smiled his most unctuous smile, and strode up to the man, clapping him on the back.

  Barton started at the unexpected contact, and then straightened and failed miserably at hiding his confusion.

  ‘Forgotten me so soon? My name is de Portnay Smythe. I believe we spoke this evening, when I was rescuing Constance Townley from the tedium of having to waltz with you.’ Tony smiled. ‘I was most disappointed to lose you in the crowd at the Gardens, for I rather thought that you meant to teach me a lesson.’

  Barton’s eyes narrowed. ‘Someone must, Smythe. It is well past time you learned that sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong can be very bad for your health.’

  Tony shrugged. ‘Perhaps. But I doubt you will be the one to teach me, for you have not learned that lesson yourself. Your continued harassment of the Dowager Duchess of Wellford, for example, is about to prove extremely unhealthy.’

  Barton smiled. ‘I beg to differ. I was there first, Smythe. She did not seem the least bit harassed, when last we were alone, and I have no desire to part with her. I assure you, the lady’s services are already engaged.’

  Tony ignored the red haze of rage that formed at the idea of Barton alone with Constance, and sneered. ‘Her services are engaged? You talk of her as though you are hiring a coach. If she were in agreement on that point, then we would have nothing to speak of here. But in talking to her, I gather she is somewhat distressed by your attentions. And so, you will cease them, immediately.’

  It was Barton’s turn to sneer. ‘You believe that she prefers you, a low-born thief?’

  Tony ignored the insult. ‘Whether she might prefer me is immaterial to this discussion. We are talking of that which she does not prefer. And that would be you. Noble birth does not erase the fact that you are a criminal as well, Lord Barton. Perhaps, in respect to your fine blood, I should offer you the chance to settle our differences on the field of honour.’ Tony laughed to himself at the idea. ‘But I am just a common man. I am no fencer, sir, and not much of a shot. I will not give you a chance to stick me when the sun rises, any more than I will allow you to knife me in the back on a street corner this evening. If you think you deserve Constance Townley’s affections, then prove to me that you are the better man. Try and take them from me.’ He raised his hands, prepared to fight.

  Barton took the stance of so many fine gentlemen, fists up to protect his noble profile.

  Tony ignored it and punched him once in the stomach, watching him fold and drop to the ground. He looked down at the man who lay gasping at his feet. ‘And this is why, if you wish to fight, it is better to learn it in the street, than from Gentleman Jim. You may find, Barton, that much of the prancing and preening you’ve been taught is quite useless against a rogue such as myself. And while you are quite terrifying to old men and ladies’ maids, I find you to be a bit of a joke.’

  Tony reached down, grabbed Barton by a lapel and ran a hand efficiently through the pockets of the coat, until he came upon the deed. ‘Carrying it with you to prevent me from stealing it? I thought as much. And you see how well that succeeded.’ He continued his search, removing more papers and a key ring. He flipped through the papers. ‘Let us see what else we have. IOUs. And here is one from Constance’s idiot nephew.’ He stared down in disgust at Barton. ‘No one is this lucky at cards, Jack. Therefore, I will surmise you cheated and will take the lot. I suspect it will be like early Christmas for the owners to get them back.’

  He examined the ring of keys, removing one that fit the lock he had noticed on Constance’s front door. ‘You will not be needing this, and so I will return it to its owner as well.’ He glared at Barton. ‘A true gentleman would never accept something that was not freely given.’

  He made to return the keys, and then hesitated. ‘I don’t suppose, while we are here together, that you would like to tell me the location of the key to your safe. I do not see it, on the ring here. It would be round, with a notched end. With a little cap to keep the dust out of the grooves.’

  Barton glared up at him with murder in his eyes.

  ‘Didn’t think so.’ Tony smiled. ‘Never mind. I didn’t really want it. I will open the lock on my own, soon enough. I enjoy the challenge, and having the key would spoil my fun. But do not think for a moment that you can succeed in your plans to mint your own money. The government is on to you, and has set me to stop you to prevent scandal. But they will have you, no matter what you do. My advice to you, as a fellow criminal, is to admit defeat, turn over the plates and run while they will still allow it.’

  He tossed the other keys back into the muck of the street.

  ‘Do you understand?’

  Barton had left off gasping, and he struggled up on one hand and spat on the ground at Tony’s feet.

  Tony kicked the hand out from under him, rolled Barton over with the toe of his boot and planted his foot across the man’s throat. ‘I said, do you understand? I am concerned, predominantly, about the Duchess of Wellford. It stops here, Barton. You will leave her alone. Are we clear on that?’ He increased his pressure on the man’s throat.

  Barton nodded with difficulty.

  He removed his foot from Barton’s neck, allowing the man to sit up. ‘You are no doubt having thoughts right now about what you will do to me, once you get your wind back. If you mean to call me out, you will be unsuccessful, for I will laugh in your face. I am proud to be a live coward in a family of dead heroes and I do not need to duel to prove my worth. If you accost me in public, I will make it clear to all within earshot what I think of the sort of man who needs to use blackmail to gain the affections of a lady.

  ‘And if you think, as you did tonight, that it will be possible to waylay me, alone or with the help of friends, or that it will be possible to send servants or lackeys to give me a taste of what’s coming to me, then I suggest you think again. Better men than you have tried it, but none has been successful. Should you manage it, know that when I am not dealing with the likes of you, I am a likeable fellow with many friends in high places and in low. They should be unhappy, should anything happen to me, and have been warned from whom the attack is most likely to come. They will take action on my behalf should I be unable to do so.’

  He smiled down at the prone man. ‘Likewise, do not attempt to harass the duchess further, or seek retribution for my actions. I will take a wrong against her as a wrong committed against my own person. I believe the Italians have a word for what I intend. Vendetta. It is much what you intended for me.’

  He looked down at the beaten man. ‘You may consider this your last warning on the matter. I mean to finish you in any case, and will have those plates. I suggest you
drop what you are planning and run, as far and as fast as you can. I will not follow, and the state is willing to let you go. But if I ever hear that you have interfered with the duchess or her household, justice will be swift and no distance great enough to protect you. Do you understand?’

  Barton glared.

  Anthony dug a toe into his ribs. ‘Yes or no, Barton. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tony smiled down at him. ‘Very good. We have an understanding. Good night to you, sir. And don’t make me have to do this again.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Constance stretched under the sheet and enjoyed the feel of the linen on her bare body. She felt a frisson of desire and the memories came flooding back. In spite of herself, she smiled.

  He had told her not to worry, and then he’d taken off her clothes, and pleasured her until she could bear it no more.

  And then he’d put her to bed and taken his leave. She’d dreamed all night of him, lying next to her on the pillow, and it was sweet disappointment to wake and find that he wasn’t there.

  There was a quiet knock on the door.

  It was still locked, and her maid could not get in. She wrapped the sheet around herself, then hurried to the door in bare feet and turned the key in the lock, grabbed the clothing from off the floor and tossed it over the nearest chair, trying to give the illusion that she had found her own way to bed.

  Susan came in smiling, and doing her best to pretend that there was nothing unusual about her mistress’s behaviour. There was an envelope, set beside the morning’s hot chocolate.

  Constance looked to her enquiringly.

  ‘It was delivered this morning, your Grace, with the first post.’

  She glanced down at the seal. An S, unfamiliar in its design. She slit the wax and unfolded the note. Her deed and inventory slid on to the tray.