The Regency Redgraves: What an Earl Wants / What a Lady Needs / What a Gentleman Desires / What a Hero Dares. Kasey Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ fribble; both were considered to be smart, patriotic servants of the Crown during this time of war. Lord Charles volunteered his services to the Admiralty. Urban was one of the many undersecretaries to the Prime Minister. Both were members of the Society, two of the devil’s thirteen.

      Trixie had explained how it all worked during his father’s time, this matter of guests: members of the Society would invite carefully selected persons to join them in their fun; to prance about in robes and masks, chanting satanic nonsense as they indulged their most base desires and depravities with willing or even notso-willing women…or whatever pleasure they craved. All quite sophisticated and civilized.

      Oh, there’ll be a foxhunt in the morning, with a lovely dinner to follow. Do bring your lady wife if you wish, I’m sure we’d all enjoy having her.

      And then would come the day when the demands for favors in exchange for not telling the world of those depravities would be issued, blackmailing them to gain their cooperation. Over and over and over again.

      Both the other members and any guests controlled by a strong leader, one who knew everything and could exploit their weaknesses. In time of war.

      “My God,” Gideon moaned, slicing his fingers through his hair. “Madness. Just…madness.”

      It was imperative he learn the other names.

      Hammer. What could that mean? Would it be something that rhymed with hammer? Was it the opposite of hammer? In the same general family as a hammer? Sharp, compared to the dull, blunt face of a hammer?

      Weaver. Could that be literal? No, too easy.

      Bird. Too many species to narrow that down.

      Burn. Fire? Its opposite—what was the opposite of fire?

      No, it was impossible to guess.

      There was no choice but to go after the known, Lord Charles and Archie Urban. But first he would check on Jessica and tell her what he and Trixie had decided.

      It was time for some sort of good news. He pushed himself away from the desk, not bothering to don the jacket he’d hung on the back of his chair earlier, along with the neck cloth he’d stripped off at the same time, and headed upstairs in his shirtsleeves.

      He passed Mildred in the upstairs hallway. “Is she still asleep?” he asked the maid.

      “No, my lord,” Mildred answered, attempting to curtsy while holding a silver tray cluttered with crockery. “Her ladyship’s up and fed and telling us she’s fine to go downstairs if she wants to. Doreen and me, we told her she didn’t want to. Never saw anyone quite so pale and wobbly on her pins as her ladyship was when you brought her home, sir.”

      “Yes, thank you, Mildred. See to it we’re not disturbed.”

      The maid rolled her eyes. “Well, if you think it might put some color back in her cheeks, I suppose it’s—”

      “I’m not asking your permission, Mildred,” Gideon said, trying to look imperious, which was more difficult than he would have imagined only a few short weeks ago.

      “No, your lordship,” Mildred agreed, a hint of color entering her own cheeks. “I suppose you think you know best. Well, then, sir, I’ll just leave you to it. Doreen’s downstairs, so you’re safe enough there.”

      “And ain’t I just the fortunate one,” Gideon mumbled under his breath as he watched the maid as she scurried off toward the back of the house and the servant staircase. The entire household would know within moments that his lordship had taken his ladyship to bed, and in the middle of the afternoon, no less, but then, that was the quality for you. He wondered if there’d be cheering. He supposed this was what happened when a doxy turned lady’s maid, but it would take some getting used to, even if he’d been grateful for the candles and the rose petals.

      He knocked lightly at the door and then depressed the latch, not waiting to be invited to enter his bride’s bedchamber. It didn’t occur to him that she might not wish his company, but if it had, her smile of greeting would have calmed those fears.

      “Have you come to free me?” she asked him from her seated position on the high tester bed, her ivory lace dressing gown barely covering her most delectable bits, her legs crisscrossed in front of her, a plate of iced cakes balanced on one knee. She looked wonderfully recovered; in fact, she looked radiant. “I’m being held prisoner by my maids, you know. Doreen put forth the possibility I’m carrying your heir, but Mildred assured her, even if that’s the case, it’s much too early for me to be swooning. Or casting up my accounts every morning, which doesn’t sound all that lovely a prospect to be looking forward to, does it? Thank you again for catching me.”

      Gideon sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg on the floor, for balance. “You’re welcome. I’ve always harbored a secret desire to be of assistance to a damsel in distress.” The possibility of a pregnancy he would allow to pass without comment. But it certainly was something to be considered. He believed he’d enjoy considering it, perhaps as much as he’d enjoy being a necessary part of the process. “Those look delicious,” he said, eying the cakes, not to mention her barely covered breasts.

      “Oh, they are. Almost as good as sugared figs, I’m sure. Here, take a bite.” Jessica held out one of the cakes, a two-inch square iced in pink on all sides and with a small sugar flower decorating the top of the thing.

      Gideon dutifully leaned forward and opened his mouth, allowing himself to be fed—and to get a better look at her breasts, because he was, at heart, an evil man. He bit off half of the small square and watched as Jessica popped the remainder into her own mouth, then licked at her fingers. “Another?” she asked, sucking lightly on her middle finger.

      Her innocent action raised a whole new hunger inside him.

      “I think I have a different delicacy in mind.”

      She looked at him, her mouth open slightly, her tongue still lightly touching the pad of her finger. And then she smiled. “Is that so?”

      “Yes, that’s so.” He took the plate and placed it on the bedside table, unbuttoned and tossed aside his waistcoat and shirt, slipped off his shoes and then joined her on the bed. “Not only that, I have permission.”

      Jessica cocked her head to one side, to look at him quizzically. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Mildred believes I might be able to put some color in your cheeks.” His fingers went to the sash holding her dressing gown closed. He found one end of the sash and gave it a slight tug. And then another.

      “Oh, she does, does she?”

      Gideon was concentrating on other things. “Umhmm,” he said, and then added, “You don’t care for the matching gown? Not that I’m lodging any sort of complaint,” he added as the bow came free and the dressing gown fell completely open.

      “I, um, I just slipped this on after my bath, and then Doreen brought up these cakes, so I…I decided to eat them now. I’ll soon be getting dressed.”

      “No, you won’t,” he said, easing back the concealing lace, slipping his hand between her crossed legs, unerringly finding her center. He spread her slightly, eased a finger inside her, applying pressure forward, against the wall of her tight sheath, then insinuated the pad of his thumb between her soft folds to stroke СКАЧАТЬ