Sinful. Charlotte Featherstone

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СКАЧАТЬ her breasts, still tasted her on his tongue, smelled her on his hand. He could hardly paint, so consumed was he by thoughts of her. He had relived that night with Jane over and over, and each time he marveled at how beautiful it had been.

      Damn Inglebright for refusing to divulge any information in regard to Jane or where she lived. And damn him for not giving up the idea of pursuing her. Already the day’s letter had been shipped off to the hospital. Another missive for Jane requesting that she come away with him. Anywhere. Just him and her and a place that was private, so he could fuck her senseless and purge her from his body and mind.

      “I was worried, you know, when I heard you had been ambushed in the East End. Nasty work, that.”

      “You, of all people, know that I have an exceedingly hard head. It would take much more than a few rookery ruffians to do me in.”

      “Still, I was worried.”

      “No need. I’ll still bear witness to your nuptials, if that is your concern.”

      Raeburn sent him a scathing glare. “I’m here because I care for you, damn you, not because I’m concerned I’ll need to find myself a new best man. Devil take it, Wallingford, you know I care.”

      Of course he did. Raeburn wore his emotions on his sleeve, unlike himself who buried emotions to the pit of his being. Feelings led to weakness and he never again was going to weaken. Despite that, he did love his friend, and acknowledged the sentiment with his usual hauteur and a deep grunt that Raeburn was able to interpret. Theirs was a long-standing friendship that no longer required words. And Matthew thanked the Fates that he still had such a friend in his life. Raeburn understood, and wisely chose a different tack for his visit.

      “You know, if this business of money has got you tied in knots, why not set your cap for an heiress?” Raeburn suggested as he continued to study the flickering flames. “It’s a simple enough option, and it’s all the rage, you know. The nouveau riche are clamoring for titles as illustrious as yours. What railway magnate’s daughter would not swoon for the opportunity to become a countess, not to mention a duchess? You could have your pick of them, you know. Your reputation could easily be swept under the carpet. No one would bat an eye once you made it clear you intended to actually do right by the girl. You could easily become the most sought-after bachelor, with your looks and your estates, and your other—” Raeburn waggled his brow “—sizable attributes.”

      “Sod off,” Matthew cursed, swiping his brush along the canvas while he ignored Raeburn’s taunting. ‘I’d rather become a damn eunuch than find myself married to some simpering, weeping girl.”

      “Get yourself a feisty American chit, one with a large dowry and a minx of a body. That should change your mind about spending the rest of your life living without your bullocks.”

      “Surely to God you have not traveled to Berkeley Square to talk to me of marriage.”

      “Well—” Raeburn shrugged as he tossed a pillow aside and stretched his booted feet out on the settee, lounging in negligent repose “—I did come to see you to make certain you were on the mend. Thomas told me you had the fever.”

      “I am recovered, as you can see.”

      “But still stewing over money.”

      “There is very little in my life to occupy my thoughts. Naturally it falls to money to become my fixation.”

      “Fucking used to be your fixation.”

      “What does your future wife think of your crudeness,” he snapped. “Does she find it as tiresome as I do?”

      Raeburn threw his head back and laughed. “I assure you, crudity has its place in the bedchamber. And while we’re talking of the fairer sex, I was introduced to an extraordinarily lovely young lady last night. I thought she might do very well for you. Beautiful face, quite perfect breasts, at least from what I could tell—I don’t really look, you know, as I’m very devoted to Anais. However, I could not help but notice—”

      “Stop.” Matthew held out his hand and glared at his friend. “I am not the least bit interested in meeting some young twit who cannot string two words together. Furthermore, I am not interested in virgins. Innocence is highly overrated and more often than not, feigned. Give me the jaded whore any day over a naive virgin. Give me a woman who can indulge her passion without blushes and remorse. If we’re exchanging currency for fucking, I’d rather do the buying instead of being the one sold off. It’s much more palatable to know I can toss a few pound notes on the bed and leave forever, than it is to fuck a wife, knowing she’s purchased your cock just for your title. I’ll not be bound like that—never.”

      “Christ, you’re so bloody cynical,” Raeburn grumbled. “Not every woman is the devil disguised behind a good set of tits.”

      Matthew arched his brow and peered at Raeburn over the top of his easel. “I’ve yet to meet one that is an angel.”

      But that was not entirely true. He did not think of Jane as he did all the other women who had come and gone in his life. She was not made of the same stamp as the women he had taken to his bed.

      “Right, then, since a rational discussion of marriage seems to be out of the question, let us talk of something else.” Raeburn inclined his head to the easel. “What are you painting, now that your masterpiece is completed?”

      “Nothing, really.” Matthew looked at the portrait he was just starting. Pale lines lay in contrast against the vanilla-colored canvas. It was the shape of a woman, all soft curves. She was reposed on a lounge, naked, her fingers tangling in her blond hair. She was faceless. Frowning, he realized he had painted Jane without even thinking.

      Raeburn cocked his brow and studied him. “You’re in fine fettle this morning. Up a bit too early, or is it you’ve gotten to bed too late?”

      Matthew ignored him and proceeded to close the lids on his ink pots.

      “Damn me, man, you are not yourself. You’ve become as dull as a vicar’s wife. It is not like you to not have gotten into some sort of illicit scrape with a lord’s wife or infamous actress. Or perhaps you’ve managed to seduce a maid who was taking care of you on your sickbed?”

      “No…no scrapes.”

      “What of the famous Lady Burroughs? How goes your pursuit of her?”

      Christ, he had not thought of her in a week. Not since Jane had entered his life.

      “Word is that the young countess is looking for someone to warm her bed. Her husband seems incapable of pleasing her. I’m quite certain, from what I’ve heard from your past paramours, that you are more than up to the challenge of pleasing Lady Burroughs.”

      “You’re remarkably well informed in the latest gossip.”

      Raeburn shrugged and crossed his legs. “I had not stepped foot in Lord Halifax’s ballroom last night for more than five minutes before I was inundated with gossip and questions.”

      “Tell them all to go to hell, that’s what I usually say.”

      Raeburn shrugged off his rebuttal. “Has your father come to you yet, about the portrait and auction?”

      “No.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ