Lady Chamberly’s Choices

Meta Mathews

After the Marquess of Chamberly unknowingly participates in the sexual humiliation of Lady Eliza Warren, he feels honor-bound to propose. But she wants nothing to do with him—or any other man for that matter. Her forced introduction to acts of a sexual nature convinced her that she can never willingly give a man access to her body. Still, she can’t convince her body that it doesn’t still desire the marquess’ touch.

Determined to right the wrong he’s done to Lady Eliza, Chamberly agrees to marriage on her terms—in name only. He assures her that if anything physical ever happens between them, it will be by her choice. Fortunately, she seems to want him. The challenge is to keep her safe until she chooses to give in to her desires.

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Lady Chamberly’s Choices

ISBN 9781419934193

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Lady Chamberly’s Choices Copyright © 2011 Meta Mathews

Edited by Helen Woodall

Cover art by Syneca

Electronic book publication May 2011

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Lady Chamberly’s Choices

Meta Mathews

Prologue

France, mid-January, 1814

The Marquess of Chamberly stuffed another pillow behind his bare back to protect against splinters from the rough-hewn headboard, then pulled the coarsely woven sheet across his groin. This tiny cottage in the woods near Champaubert, France, lacked all amenities except one. That amenity walked toward him now, holding a glass of wine and wearing nothing but a tantalizing smile.

His cock, still recovering from two lusty bouts of lovemaking that evening, stirred beneath the rough-textured sheet.

Cerise approached the bed, then bent and leaned forward so that her magnificent breasts swung toward him. He captured the right one in his left hand and grazed the nipple with his thumb. It responded immediately, growing to the size of a lush berry.

“Your wine, mon amour.” Still smiling, she held the glass toward him, but he shook his head, then motioned toward the sheet that was now tented over his groin. “Later. I find I’m more interested in making merry than in drinking.”

“But it is good wine.” She dipped two fingers into the dark red liquid, then dribbled several drops over the nipple of her left breast. “Taste for yourself.”

“Set the glass on the bedside table and come here,” he commanded. He didn’t doubt that Cerise would obey him. He’d learned that much about her in the three weeks they’d been together. Not only was she invariably cooperative, but she was the most uninhibited woman he’d ever known, nothing like the passionless English females of his acquaintance.

Thoughts of her antics in bed started his cock to twitching. Not even the most adventurous of his past mistresses had exhibited such an adoration for the unconventional. Cerise’s love of pretense seemed boundless, whether she was playing the role of a “bad girl” who needed spanking or of a sex slave who was spreading her legs apart under duress.

When he waved away the wine, her full lips formed a sulky moue, then tilted into a mischievous smile. “As you command, Master.” She turned, set the glass on the table beside the bed and picked up two narrow leather straps. “At least allow me to tie you to the bed tonight. I promise you delights such as you’ve never known before.”

For a split second, he considered giving into her plea, but he knew himself too well to think he’d enjoy being tied up, even for whatever pleasures Cerise might heap on him. “Not tonight, ma chérie. Shall I tie you up instead? I’ll give your backside a good paddling, then suck on your tits until you beg me for release. After that, I’ll untie your hands so I can force you to hold your pussy open for me. While you’re pleading for mercy, I’ll finger you until you come at least a dozen times. Then I’ll fuck you until we’re both weak.”

She sighed before tossing the leather straps back onto the table. “Merci, but I can tell you’re not really in the mood to play master and slave tonight. What shall we do instead?” She leaned forward and grasped the top sheet, pulling it away from him and wrapping it around herself until she was concealed up to her neck. “I know. I’ll pretend to be a virgin and you can seduce me.” She stared at his erect cock and gave a gasp of feigned terror.

“Seducing virgins is too much trouble.” He grabbed the sheet and pulled it away from her, baring her breasts again. Huge and beautifully shaped, each was crowned with a dark areola and darker nipple that seemed always to stand at attention, ready for his tongue or fingers or lips. No matter how many times he saw her naked, he never grew tired of looking. “I’m not in the mood for games, ma chérie. Just lie down beside me and let me worship your marvelous body.”

She shrugged, but rather than complying, she lifted her left leg and set her foot on the edge of the bed, then pushed her torso toward him. “Will you make me come with your mouth first? I want that so much. Please. My pussy craves your lascivious tongue.”

“Lascivious tongue? Mon Dieu, woman, where do you come up with these descriptions?” But she’d made him laugh, so he grasped her ankle and tugged her onto the bed. She fell on her back with her hair spread around her head like strands of ebony silk and her legs opened wide to reveal the thatch of black curls between her thighs.

“First, ma petite fleur, you must allow me a moment with these beauties.” He maneuvered his body over her until he could lower his head and capture a nipple in his mouth. He laved it with his tongue, sucked it, and then, when Cerise began to whimper with her need, he switched to the other side. He wasn’t sure why he’d fallen so deeply in love with these breasts. He thought perhaps it was because he was beginning to fall in love with the woman they belonged to.

She had, after all, very likely saved his life the frigid night he’d managed to crawl into her barn and ended up collapsing in a pile of hay. Near frozen and weak with hunger, he’d realized as he lay there, half conscious, that he was in more danger than at any time since he—and a few of his fellow Englishmen—had agreed to undertake various covert activities for the War Office.

They’d all had their particular talents and had often worked together, but two of his compatriots had grown ill from some mysterious malady the previous week, and he had been forced to go it alone for this assignment. As usual, he’d dressed as if he were from French peasant stock and had decided upon a fictitious name and story. He was to be Edgard, a French soldier who’d deserted and was attempting to return to his home in the south.

Rarely had he needed a cover story because he’d learned to travel at night and thus avoid people who might question him in more depth. This time, though, his luck had run low, and he’d turned his ankle when he stepped in a hole in the dark. Although he’d fashioned a crutch from a tree branch, his pace had been slowed so much, he’d run out of food before he could finish observing the French troop movements.

Then the weather had turned bitterly cold and he’d taken a chill, which had not only made him miserable but had also sapped his strength. He’d been reduced to crawling by the time he’d run across this tiny cottage in the woods.

He hadn’t been able to tell whether it was occupied, so he hadn’t dared try to enter. Instead, he’d decided to use the structure as a windbreak. Thick shrubs grew up next to the outer wall, so he’d crawled behind them and discovered a sort of trench that ran along the side. By burrowing into it and covering himself with the blanket he’d carried in his pack, he’d managed to create a bit of warmth.

He’d dozed for a while and awoke, aware of a gnawing hunger that had grown more painful by the minute. Just then, a powerful gust of wind had penetrated his barrier of shrubs and carried a familiar odor to his nostrils. Obviously a barnyard was nearby.

Hoping against hope that he could find something to eat, he’d crawled from his sheltered location, leaving his blanket and bundle of extra clothes behind. He’d continued to follow the increasingly strong smells of manure and animal through the thinning forest until he’d found himself in a clearing. The stingy light of a waning moon had revealed a modest farmhouse ahead of him, and to his right, a barn.

A nearby henhouse had become his immediately objective. With luck, he’d find a few eggs, and those could provide the nourishment he’d known he needed to help him regain the strength he’d lost in the last few days.

Fifteen minutes later, after consuming half a dozen raw eggs, he’d made his way to the barn. He’d hoped to find an apple or a few carrots stored there as treats for the horses, but his luck had run its course for the evening. Nearing exhaustion, he’d decided to rest for just a few minutes before making his way back to the cottage. He’d awakened hours later with the early morning sun shining through cracks in the wall and a woman more beautiful than any he’d ever seen staring down at him.

“Qui est la?” she’d asked.

“I’m…” He’d sat up, instantly awake and aware that he’d started to answer her in English. Trying to hide his blunder, he’d continued. “Um, eh, je m’appelle Edgard, mademoiselle.”

“Madame,” she’d corrected him. “I’m a widow. What are you doing here?”

He’d scrambled to his feet and hastened through his tale about trying to get back to his home in the south. Although he hadn’t said so outright, he’d intimated that he was a deserter because he’d known that most French civilians sympathized with the poor soldiers who had been putting their lives on the line with little or no recompense.

“Are you hungry?” she’d asked.

“Oui, madame.”

“We have a little time before my hired hands arrive from the village. I’ll bring you some breakfast and then show you to a small cottage in the forest where you can hide for a day or two. It has not been inhabited since my late husband’s groom joined Napoleon’s forces. Wait here.”

She’d brought him a delicious omelet, along with a change of clothes she said had belonged to her husband. “He was much your size,” she’d said, staring him up and down. “Although not so handsome as you. You’re a good-looking devil, as I assume you are aware.”

He hadn’t known what to say to that, and she’d laughed gaily. “You are also modest, I see. Come now, we’ll get you settled in the cottage. We can build a fire in the fireplace. If anyone questions the smoke, I’ll say I’m giving succor to a passing stranger who shows signs of the plague. That will keep the curious away.”

True to her word, she’d accompanied him to the cabin, helped him build a fire, and suggested he get some sleep. “For I noticed how badly you’re limping, and you also show signs of a fever,” she’d said. “You need both food and rest. I’ll bring you some dinner after my hired helpers leave for the day.”

“Surely you don’t live alone, madame,” he’d said.

“My name is Cerise, and no, I don’t live alone. I have a live-in maid and a scullery girl, but they never question my activities. I’ll see you this evening.”

He’d slept for several hours, getting out of bed only to throw more wood on the fire or answer the call of nature. By late that afternoon, he’d felt up to heating some water, bathing, and shaving with the razor Cerise had supplied along with her late husband’s clothing. By the time she’d arrived with his dinner, he’d felt much stronger, and the excellent food and wine she’d supplied strengthened him even more.

She’d sat across from him at the tiny table while he ate, openly flirting with him. He’d flirted back, enjoying his first repartee with a beautiful woman in more months than he’d cared to recall.

Once he’d finished eating and sat nursing a glass of wine, her flirting had intensified. She’d held his gaze while exaggeratedly moistening her lips, her tongue running in and out of her mouth in a suggestive manner. She’d leaned toward him, resting her breasts on the tabletop and dragging the tip of her finger across the back of his hand. Then, finally, she’d dropped the shawl she had kept wrapped around her shoulders, walked around the table and seated herself on his lap. She’d grasped one of his hands, lifted it to her breast, and regarded him with a question in her eyes.

“I’ve been a widow for two years,” she’d murmured. “A woman begins to miss what she once had, and I can’t afford to take a local lover or my reputation would be ruined.”

“Perhaps I can help you solve that problem, ma petite,” he’d responded, cupping her breast in his hand. He could feel her nipple pushing against the soft fabric of her dress, and he’d lowered his head to kiss it through the thin muslin.

She’d thrown her shoulders back, pushing both breasts toward his face, and he’d been delighted to discover that she wore nothing under her low-cut gown. With very little effort, he’d pushed the bodice of her dress down and those gorgeous breasts had popped out.

He’d reached with both hands to cup them, using his thumbs to caress the nipples, and within seconds, his cock had been aching with need. But she’d pushed his hands away, then rolled off his lap and stood in front of him while she’d slowly pulled her gown above her waist. “If you want what you see, you’ll need to work for it.”

“What do you want done?” He would have chopped wood, mucked out stalls, or milked a goat if she’d asked.

“A little game, that’s all. Follow me to the bed.”

She’d had him undress and lie flat on the bed. Then, still wearing her gown, she’d come down on him, sucking his cock until sweat popped out on his forehead, but she’d refused to let him come.

When he’d been ready to beg, she’d pulled her gown off and crawled on top of him, dragging her breasts along his belly and then into his face. “Kiss them while you finger me, s’il vous plait.”

After taking the tip of one massive breast in his mouth, he’d reached for her pussy and found it already dripping with creamy moisture. By the time he’d dragged his finger through the folds half a dozen times, her body had convulsed and she’d screamed her release.

A few seconds later, she’d rolled off him and onto her back. “Again,” she’d said, spreading her legs. “Make me come again. You are my master. Force me to come. Show me no mercy.”

So he’d learned early to play her games. And he’d enjoyed them. She’d made sure he found his own pleasure. And if he’d sometimes wished he had to work less to achieve their common objective, he’d decided to enjoy what he had at the moment.

For he’d known he couldn’t stay long in the cottage. He had his duty to fulfill, but fortunately, Cerise had managed to supply him with enough information that there was no urgency to his reporting back about the troop movements. From what she’d artlessly passed along to him—gossip from the village, she’d said—he’d known the troops were not yet moving, so there was nothing new for him to report.

Besides, he’d discovered he needed time for his ankle to heal. He’d known he would have a long walk ahead of him when he left the cottage and that he would need to be at his full strength.

But on this particular night, he realized the time for him to leave was growing near. Within a day or two, he’d be strong enough to be on his way, and he already dreaded telling Cerise. They’d grown fond of each other during the past weeks, and he wondered what she’d say if he told her he’d like to come back someday. Was this just an interlude for her? Would she agree to wait for him? He’d half a mind to ask her right now.

But as it happened, she had other plans at the moment. “Enough,” she said, pushing his head away from her breasts. “You said you’d eat me. You promised. Then I’ll take you in my pussy and you’ll not be sorry.”

“You’re insatiable, woman,” he grumbled. But he knew what she liked, and he knew she was a woman of her word. She’d see to it that he enjoyed himself after he made her come with his tongue.

He slid down her body, spread her legs wide, and lowered his head, breathing in her musk. She was ready for him. Her pussy was slick, and her nubbin was so sensitized that the second he touched it with his tongue, her hips shot up off the bed. A few seconds later, she was once again convulsing over and over, gasping out her climax.

She slumped onto the bed. “Merci, mon amour,” she murmured. “That was wonderful.”

Then she rolled to the edge of the bed, stood, and stepped to the bedside table. She grasped the glass of wine still sitting there. “You’ll wish to cleanse your palate.” She held the glass out to him.

“Mais non.” He waved the wine away. “I want you to taste yourself on my tongue. Come here and let me kiss you.”

With a small moue, she set the wine on the table and took one step back toward the bed. At that second, the front door flew open and three French soldiers burst into the room. All three aimed rifles at his head.

His first thought was to protect Cerise, although he wasn’t sure how the hell he was supposed to do that, considering that he was stark naked and there wasn’t a weapon to be had in the house.

Then he realized she didn’t need protecting. She glared at the soldiers before she dashed across the room to join them. “Fools. You were supposed to wait for my signal.”

The soldier standing in the middle and a bit in front responded. “We waited and waited. Why is he not unconscious?”

“Because he wouldn’t drink the damn wine. Be careful. He’s slippery.”

Realization hit him with the force of a battering ram. She’d known he was English and had turned him in. A searing sense of betrayal held him motionless for mere seconds before his years of training and experience kicked in. If he was lucky, he had one chance of escaping. All three soldiers were ogling Cerise’s tits instead of watching him. He rolled off the bed and keeping low, ran for the back door.

Cerise screamed. “He’s running, fools. Get him.”

A shot rang out and something whistled past his right shoulder. A second later he felt as though a hot poker had been slammed onto his skin, and he realized he’d been grazed. He ducked, grasped the door handle, and ran out into the frigid night, stark naked.

Chapter One

London, late March, 1816

Eliza was to recall later that she’d been smiling that afternoon when the new footman interrupted her letter writing. She’d almost finished a missive to her older sister, Martha, who was married to Baron Preston and lived in Sussex. Martha always enjoyed stories involving the antics of their youngest sister, seven-year-old Abigail—who called herself Abby-gal because she thought that was her name.

So, Eliza had written, when Abby remembered she had imprisoned the kitten in Mama’s sewing basket, she ran back to the sitting room to release Boots and discovered the feline had entangled herself in several colors of thread, and in the process destroyed the order of Mama’s basket. Were it not for poor Abby’s condition, I believe Mama would have paddled her on the spot.

“Excuse me, my lady.”

Eliza jumped, not having heard the footman enter the drawing room. What was his name again? Mitchell? Marshall? Whatever it was, he moved too quietly for her taste. He stood practically at her elbow, and she hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

She suppressed a sigh, placed the quill back in its stand, and turned in her chair to face him. “Yes?”

“You have a message, my lady.” He grasped a folded sheet of paper in his hand but made no effort to hold it out to her. Instead, he merely stared at her. Eliza narrowed her eyes. His expression bordered on a sneer, but that made no sense. Footmen didn’t sneer, especially footmen who had been in the family’s employ for only two weeks. They were generally eager to please so they would not lose their position.

But this fellow continued to stare, and he certainly appeared to sneer. Eliza searched her memory and finally recalled his name.

“Thank you, Mayhew.” She nodded toward the paper he held. “May I have my message, please?”

He leaned forward to hand her the letter, then pulled back quickly as though to avoid her touch.

Irritated, Eliza turned her back on him and unfolded the paper. The writing was bold and black.

We have Abigail. If you want your feeble-minded little sister returned to you in one piece, you will follow the instructions in this letter carefully. Otherwise, your sister will disappear forever.

First, you will make an excuse to forego any activities that might have been planned for this evening and retire early.

At ten o’clock, you will make your way to the back door leading out into the garden. There you will be met by a man who goes by the name of Nate. Nate will escort you to a house where you will be the dinner guest of a man and whichever of his followers he chooses to invite.

You are to obey anything and everything Nate or one of your dinner partners tells you to do. If you follow instructions successfully, you will be returned to your home unharmed, and when you arrive home, you will find that your sister is safe in her bed.

Should you fail to obey or successfully follow instructions, your evening will be prolonged and your sister will be turned loose in one of the worst of London’s slums. Considering her limited mental capacities, I doubt she would live a long life, and certainly it would not be a happy one.

Her future is in your hands.

Eliza read the letter through two times but the second reading was no more helpful than the first. Was this some sort of prank? And if so, who could be so cruel as to refer to dear little Abby as “feeble-minded”? Although Abigail, born when their mother was in her mid-forties, did not look or behave like the other eleven children of the Earl and Countess of Greenley, she was a sweet girl who had captured the affection of all of her brothers and sisters.

Eliza looked at the clock on the mantel. At this hour of the afternoon, almost four o’clock, Abby should be in the nursery.

She turned to the footman. “Where did you get this letter?”

He shrugged. “A lad delivered it. Just handed it to me and ran off.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

“Just to be sure that you got it as soon as possible. I brought it straight to you.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Wait here,” Eliza commanded. Clutching the letter, she hurried into the corridor and dashed up two flights of stairs to the nursery. Her heart, which had already been pounding from fear, was racing even more by the time she reached the nursery door.

She paused outside to allow her breathing to slow and to school her expression. If Abby was inside playing, as she usually was at this hour, Eliza didn’t want to frighten her by appearing different from her usual cheerful self.

Still, she could not control the sheen of perspiration that coated her forehead as she lifted the latch and pushed the door open.

Abby’s nurse sat by the window in a rocker, her head lying against the back of the chair and a soft snore emanating from her lips. Eliza stepped inside and glanced around the room. Mere seconds informed her that Abby was not there.

She dashed across the room and touched the nurse on the shoulder. “Mrs. Tipton, wake up.”

Mrs. Tipton had been Abby’s nurse for all of the child’s life, and the two were close. The family had always trusted Mrs. Tipton to take good care of the little girl.

“What? What is it?” The nurse sat up, obviously startled, and then jumped to her feet. “Oh, Lady Eliza, you caught me napping. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Where’s Abby?”

A frown touched the nurse’s forehead. “Little Abby? Why, she’s gone to your brother’s house. Lord Dunmorn sent for her. I thought you knew.”

Eliza tried unsuccessfully to swallow the lump of fear that lodged in her throat. Her oldest brother, Viscount Dunmorn, had traveled to the family’s country estate earlier in the week to attend the funeral of the vicar’s brother. He was not due back until tomorrow. “How did this come about?” she asked in a voice that threatened to break.

“That new footman brought a letter from his lordship saying he’d come back early from his trip and wanted Abby to come visit with his little Mary. Miss Abby was excited, of course, because she enjoys playing with Miss Mary, so I brushed her hair and put a fresh ribbon in it. I wanted to change her dress but the footman said there was no time for that because Lord Dunmorn was in a hurry. He said Miss Abby should be home before bedtime.”

A frown pulled at the nurse’s brow. “Why do you ask, my lady? Didn’t anyone tell you Miss Abby was going visiting?”

“Never mind,” Eliza murmured. “I’m sorry I interrupted your nap.” She hurried from the room and down one flight of stairs to her own bedchamber where she rang for her maid.

Agatha arrived ten minutes later, breathless from her dash up the stairs. “Sorry to be so slow, my lady. I thought you was in the drawing room writing your letters.”

Eliza blew her breath out in a long sigh. She’d paced the confines of her bedchamber while waiting for Agatha, trying to think what she should do. If indeed Abby had been abducted, why was there no demand for ransom? That would have made some sense, but this strange missive she still clutched in her hand made no sense at all. Why would a man she didn’t know want to have dinner with her? And what could he want from her that was worth the risk of abducting a peer’s daughter?

Unfortunately, she couldn’t turn to her parents, who had traveled to Surrey to visit Eliza’s next to oldest sister. Nancy was due to give birth to her second child within a fortnight, and because her first lying-in had almost resulted in the deaths of her and her babe, she’d begged her parents to come stay with her. Both had felt they should be there to lend moral support.

Nor could Eliza turn to any of her siblings. All four of her older sisters were married and lived on their country estates. And her dear brothers, with the exception of Richard, were out of town going about their own business. Eliza could only pray that Richard had come back from the country early and sent for Abby.

Still, she couldn’t risk an open inquiry into her little sister’s whereabouts. She gazed at Agatha, who had been her maid for the past seven years and who was as loyal as any friend Eliza had ever known.

She drew in a deep breath and tried to maintain her composure. “Are you still stepping out with that nice footman who works for my brother?”

Agatha’s eyes widened enough to signal her surprise, but she immediately nodded. “You’d be speaking of Mr. Henley, who’s second footman to Lord Dunmorn, my lady. And yes, we still see each other on our day off every week.”

“I need you to go around the corner to Lord Dunmorn’s residence and ask your friend, in strictest confidence, if my brother has returned from the country. Can you do that, and not let anyone know except for you and Mr. Henley?”

“I can, my lady, and I will, but—”

“I can’t answer any questions, Agatha. Just do what I asked you and come back as quickly as you can.”

Even though a frown of concern touched the maid’s brow, she nodded, then turned and hurried from the room.

Eliza bit down on her lip—hard. She would pray while Agatha was gone, but she knew she dare not depend solely on prayer. She had to make plans in case Agatha returned with the news that Richard would not be back until tomorrow.

She glanced again at the letter. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would go to so much trouble merely to ensure her presence at a dinner. Obviously, there was more to the rendezvous than a simple meal, but what?

Still, if she became convinced that Abby had indeed been abducted, she would have no choice but to follow the instructions in the letter. She read the second paragraph again.

First, you will make an excuse to forego any activities that might have been planned for this evening and retire early.

Fortunately, considering that all members of her family were away from home, her only plans had been to enjoy a quiet evening curled up with a book. Of course she’d have to make up some excuse to go to bed early or Agatha would become suspicious and be reluctant to leave her alone.

A headache would do, she decided. And if Agatha tried to hover too much, she’d simply say she was ready to go to sleep. She looked back at the letter and read the next sentence.

At ten o’clock, you will make your way to the back door leading out into the garden. There you will be met by a man who goes by the name of Nate.

At ten o’clock, the evening air would be quite chilly. Knowing she would need some sort of wrap, she crossed the room and opened the wardrobe. Toward the back she spied a long, brown cloak that had gone out of style a few years before. She wouldn’t attract undue attention if she donned that cloak tonight, and she would certainly feel more at ease wearing a garment that covered her fully.

After glancing at the clock again, she realized Agatha might soon be returning so she hurried over to the chair that sat beneath a window. She picked up a book lying on the nearby table, settled herself in the chair, and was pretending to read when Agatha dashed into the room five minutes later.

The maid paused to catch her breath, and then spoke hurriedly. “I saw Mr. Henley, my lady. He said they’ve not heard anything from Lord Dunmorn and don’t expect him back before late tomorrow or even early the next morning. He was wondering if perhaps you’d heard something different, since you thought his lordship might be back already.”

Eliza laid her book to one side and stood. She forced a smile and shrugged, trying to appear only mildly interested in her brother’s whereabouts. “Silly me. I thought I’d seen his carriage go by the house earlier today, but obviously I was mistaken. I should have known he’d send word if he had returned early.”

The maid gazed at her searchingly for a few seconds but then appeared to relax. “Many carriages look alike, my lady.”

“Exactly. Well, it’s of no great import, and my silly mistake gave you an opportunity to have a few minutes with your Mr. Henley. I’m sure he was gratified.”

Eliza’s words brought a smile and faint blush to Agatha’s face. “That’s true, my lady. In fact, Mr. Henley asked if I might be free to walk with him for a little while this evening, but I told him no because I have my duties to you and they come first.”

“Nonsense. There’s no reason for you to stay with me. I plan to spend a quiet evening at home and retire at an early hour. You go ahead and step out with your Mr. Henley. I won’t have any more need for you today.”

She feared she’d gone too far when Agatha’s eyebrows shot up. “But my lady, you’ll surely want me to help you get ready for bed.”

“You can lay my nightclothes out before you leave, and if I require any assistance beyond that, I’ll call on the upstairs maid.”

“Humph! I doubt she’d know a neckline from an armhole, but maybe…”

Agatha had screwed her mouth to one side as though pondering the situation, but Eliza could easily judge that she’d already decided to take advantage of the offer.

“Very well, my lady. If you’re sure you’ll be all right, I’d be very pleased to have a little time tonight with Mr. Henley.”

Eliza breathed a soft sigh of relief. She’d never expected her need for privacy to be so easily attained. “Of course I’m sure. You go ahead and don’t worry about me. I’ve been feeling somewhat fatigued lately and can use a good night’s rest.”

Agatha’s grin was one of delight. “Thank you, my lady. I’ll make sure to lay your nightclothes out before I leave. Is there anything else you require?”

“No, thank you. I’m going back to the drawing room to finish a letter, so I probably won’t see you again until tomorrow morning. Have a pleasant evening.”

Agatha dropped a quick curtsy. “Thank you, my lady. And I hope you have a restful night.”

Eliza wished the same but very much feared her evening was going to be anything but restful. In fact, she was now anticipating an unpleasant venture into the unknown. Unfortunately, no matter what horrors might await her, she had no choice but to follow the instructions in that hideous letter. Abby’s innocent life hung in the balance.

Five minutes later she paused in the corridor beside the door opening into the drawing room where she’d told Mayhew to await her. She firmly believed that he had played some role in Abby’s abduction, but she doubted he would ever admit anything to her. She squared her shoulders, clenched her teeth, and hurried into the room.

He stood where she’d left him but she doubted he’d remained in that position the entire time she’d been gone. She glanced toward the letter she’d been writing and was almost certain it had been moved. Not that it mattered except to reinforce her belief that he was not to be trusted.

His gaze dropped to her hand and when he saw she still clutched the letter, a tiny smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Will there be anything else, my lady?” His tone was just short of insolent.

“No, nothing,” Eliza said shortly. “You may go.”

He lifted his shoulders in a tiny shrug and swaggered from the room.

Eliza’s knees threatened to give way, and she hurried over to the desk chair and dropped into it. Her heart was beating too fast and her mouth had turned dry. She was far out of her depth here but was afraid to turn to anyone for help.

She spread the letter out on the top of the desk and read it again. Surely there was some explanation, but although she racked her brain until a vicious headache set up behind her eyes, she could think of no one who would wish to cause her such distress.

She was almost beginning to look forward to the evening just so she’d have some answers to the questions that now burned in her mind.

Chapter Two

By the time nine o’clock rolled around that night, Eliza was half crazed with doubts about how she was handling the situation. Half a dozen times she’d slipped upstairs to the nursery floor, creeping from stair to stair and then holding her breath while standing in the corridor outside Abby’s room. Each time she had prayed she would hear Abby’s voice, but the only thing she ever detected was Mrs. Tipton’s cheerful humming or her soft snoring.

At last she gave up hope of a reprieve and pulled the cloak from the back of her wardrobe. She traded her slippers for half boots, and dug about on a shelf until she found a dark hat that would help hide her blonde hair. Not knowing what to expect and hoping to be prepared in case she ended up abandoned in some back alley, she slipped a letter opener and a few shillings into her cloak pocket. Neither would be of much benefit, but they were the best she could do.

At ten o’clock, she pushed open the door at the back of the house and stepped out into the night. Although she’d known a man would be waiting for her, she was still startled when a skinny fellow materialized out of the shadows.

“Evening, Lady Eliza,” he said, grinning. The moon was almost full, so its light was easily bright enough to glint off the dagger he held in his right hand. That he hadn’t bathed in more than a few weeks was obvious when his odor quickly overpowered the fragrance of damp earth that had first greeted Eliza when she stepped outside.

“Nate?” She wished her teeth weren’t so close to chattering with fear. She clamped them together.

“Aye, that’s my name.” He grasped her forearm, and when she instinctively started to pull away, he tightened his grip so hard that she flinched. No doubt she’d have bruises there tomorrow.

If she lived until tomorrow.

“You’d best not give me any trouble, milady.” Nate leaned close to her face, and his foul breath was so overwhelming that she bit her lip to keep from turning away. “You obey every word I say, just like that letter told ye to do, and I’ll bring ye back to this very door before morning without a mark on ye. Do ye understand?”

“I understand everything except why this is happening. Who is behind this bizarre intrusion into my life?”

His grin revealed rotted teeth, which no doubt contributed to his hideous breath. “Now that would be telling, milady, and I ain’t going to do that. You just obey me and the men I’m taking ye to, and ye’ll be all right.”

Eliza lifted her chin. “And if I choose not to obey?”

“Do ye know what a bawdy house is?”

Eliza had not grown up around five older brothers without overhearing conversations regarding subjects young ladies were not supposed to know about. “Yes, I’m familiar with the term.”

“If ye don’t do what ye’re told to do, yer little sister will be turned over to the procuress of a bawdy house.”

Eliza felt the blood draining from her face. “But she’s just a child.”

Nate chuckled. “There’s some men prefer a little girl to a grown woman, milady. And some would pay ten times the usual asking price if the little girl is a virgin. She’d be a big attraction, yer little sister would, in such a place. And most would consider it a bonus that she couldn’t tell what had happened to her even if she was to get away.”

“Dear God,” Eliza murmured under her breath. Obviously she had no choice but to go along with this man and do what she was told in hopes that they would really release Abby.

“Let’s go now. I don’t want to be late.” Nate stepped off, leading her through the garden and out a gate at the back. Eliza had assumed he would put her into an enclosed carriage, but he continued walking, keeping a tight hold on her arm.

He kept to the shadows and ducked into alleys whenever possible. Although Eliza thought she knew the neighborhood fairly well, she soon realized they were moving into territory that was unfamiliar to her.

A few minutes later, the moon slid behind a cloud and the London streets grew even more confusing. She was completely lost when Nate at last stopped beside a house and opened a door leading inside.

“Come,” he said shortly, pulling her along with him. He shut the door and then loosened his grasp on her arm.

A lantern burned on a table in the room where she now stood, and Eliza glanced around, hoping for a clue as to what was going on. She had wondered if perhaps she was being taken to a bawdy house, but this was not how she would expect such a place to be decorated. Half a dozen chairs and two sofas appeared to be placed in such a way as to invite guests to relax on their luxuriously upholstered seats. These were flanked by tables of varying sizes, all of which were polished to a high sheen.

Eliza had begun to hope that perhaps her worst fears would not be realized when a man stepped into the room and the temperature felt as though it had dropped several degrees. Unusually tall and slender, he was dressed in a well-cut black jacket and trousers. A high forehead topped his elongated face, which sported a sharp nose and thin lips, which were stretched into a sneer. His gaze swept past Nate and settled on Eliza.

“Good evening, my lady,” he said in cultured tones. “I know who you are, but for this evening, you will go by a name of my choosing. You will answer only to ‘Jillian’. Do you understand?”

Eliza struggled to subdue an urge to shrink away from the fellow. Instead she lifted her chin. “I don’t understand anything that is happening to me this evening. Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain.”

He thinned his lips as though exasperated but replied anyway. “I shall share a few details with you. First, I’ll escort you to a dining room where you will be entertained by a man who trains women for duties in houses of ill repute. You and he will be joined for dinner by two of his cronies.

“I will be your handler for this evening. You will address me as Mr. Cockington, and you must obey all of my orders, however bizarre they may seem to you. You must also obey every request made by your host and his friends. If you should refuse any order or request, your little sister will be subjected to whatever activity you have chosen to forego.

“However, if you do everything that is asked of you, you will be returned to your home unharmed, and you will find your little sister back safely in the nursery when you get there. Do you understand?”

A lump of fear lodged in her throat and Eliza was forced to clear it twice before she could respond. Even so, her voice was barely above a whisper when she forced the words past her lips. “I understand.”

“Anytime I ask you if you understand, you’re to respond thusly, ‘I understand, Mr. Cockington.’ Do you understand?”

Eliza moistened her dry lips. “I understand, Mr. Cockington.”

“Very good.” He nodded once, and then turned his arrogant gaze toward Nate. “Wait in the stables until you receive my signal.”

Nate swallowed loudly before responding. “Yes, sir.” He turned and slipped back through the door. Eliza found herself regretting his absence. Strangely, she’d rather try to cope with the smelly ruffian than the too-slick man who now had transferred all his attention to her.

“Take your hat and cloak off and place them on the chair nearest the door,” he said, gazing at her as though she were one of the lowest forms of life on earth. Why he should feel anything toward her at all was a question she didn’t allow herself to dwell on. Instead, she quickly obeyed his order.

After folding her cloak lengthwise and placing it neatly on the chair, she removed her hat and placed it on top. Then she turned back to face her handler. He looked her up and down, taking in her gown with its cap sleeves and modest neckline. “Quite appropriate,” he murmured. “Follow me.”

He picked up the lantern, then turned and walked through a doorway leading into a corridor. A brief and tempting vision of running, of dashing back the way she’d come and disappearing into the night, flitted through Eliza’s mind, but she’d already decided there was no escape.

Whatever she had to face tonight, even if the final outcome was to be a nightmare beyond her imagining, she knew she had to face it. If she did not, and if little Abby paid the price for her cowardice, she would never be able to look at herself in a mirror again.

Still, her knees were less than steady as she followed her handler down the corridor, into a front hall, and then down another corridor. At last he paused, pushed open a door, and motioned for her to precede him.

She stepped into what was obviously a dining room. A cloth-covered table in the center of the room was already set for four people with china plates, crystal wineglasses, and silver cutlery. Behind the table on the far wall was another door, one that led to the kitchen area, Eliza assumed.

On the wall to her right stood a large sideboard that boasted a tray, several glasses, and at least half a dozen decanters. A man leaned against the end of the sideboard, a glass in his left hand and a sheet of paper in his right. When Eliza stepped into the room, he transferred his gaze from the paper to her.

Her heart stuttered and then sped up.

He was clean-shaven with a square jaw, well-shaped lips, and dark eyes that were slightly narrowed. His nose was just a tiny bit crooked, reminding her of her youngest brother, Henry, who always swore his broken nose resulted from his running into a doorframe rather than a schoolmate’s fist.

But it was not the man’s handsome countenance that caused Eliza’s heart rate to accelerate. Rather, it was the hatred burning in his eyes. That he considered her to be the lowest of the low was obvious. But why? Did he think she should have refused to participate in his hideous game? Would he have respected her more if she’d been willing to let her darling little sister suffer in her stead?

She raised her chin and then stifled a scream when Mr. Cockington placed his hand on her arm. She’d forgotten for a split second that he was still in the room.

Mr. Cockington nodded toward the man holding the letter. “You will address this gentleman as Mr. Lade. He and his friends are to assist in your training. Do you understand?”

She murmured the words she knew were required. “I understand, Mr. Cockington.”

“Then make your curtsy to Mr. Lade.”

The man had captured her gaze and he held it while Eliza curtsied to him. Then he glanced again at the paper in his hand before looking at her with an expression in his eyes that was so disdainful, she half expected her skin to blister. He continued to hold her gaze. “Are you agreeable to the terms in this letter?”

Mr. Cockington quickly answered for her. “She is indeed, aren’t you, Miss Jillian?”

Eliza could barely breathe. What were the terms in that letter? What was she agreeing to? She fought the darkness that threatened to envelop her and responded as she knew she must. “Yes, I agree.”

“So be it,” Mr. Lade said. His nostrils flared as though he found her thoroughly distasteful. “We’ll have dinner in this room. I’ve arranged for two of my friends to join us. One will sit on either side of you. They are prepared to participate in your training.”

“Very well.” Eliza forced the words between lips that were numb. Why were his friends to be there? What sort of training did he refer to? Fear twisted and burned in her stomach until she had to swallow almost constantly to keep bile from creeping onto the back of her tongue. She couldn’t afford to be sick. She simply couldn’t. Her sister’s life depended on her appearing to be calm and cooperative.

Mr. Lade spoke again, his voice so cold that Eliza shivered. “Since you’ve agreed to the terms, this gentleman will prepare you according to the instructions contained in the letter.” He motioned toward Mr. Cockington.

“Prepare me?” Her voice was a whisper.

Mr. Cockington tightened his hold on her arm. “This is what you want, is it not, Miss Jillian?”

His words held an obvious threat. If she were to object, her sister would suffer the consequences. She responded with a jerky nod. “Yes, it’s what I want.”

“Good. My first act will be to undress you from the waist up.”

Oh dear God. What were they going to do to her?

“Do you object?” He put special emphasis on the word object.

She again swallowed bile and felt it burn its way down her throat. “No, I do not object.”

The man who had been introduced as Mr. Lade turned his back and picked up one of the decanters sitting on the sideboard. Eliza heard the click of glass touching glass and could only assume he was pouring himself a drink. She wished she could numb her senses with brandy, but no one offered her anything. Instead, Mr. Cockington placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed on the cap sleeves of her gown.

“Pull your arms up,” he commanded.

She obeyed, and within seconds, he had pushed her gown and undergarment down around her waist. Cool air caressed her breasts, and she felt her nipples puckering. She set her teeth and stared straight ahead. Unfortunately, Mr. Cockington appeared in her peripheral vision, his slimy smile implying that he was enjoying himself immensely.

“My next chore,” he said, “is to use the honey pot on you. Don’t move.”

Having said that, he picked up a small jar sitting on the table and dipped his finger into it. He then placed a chilly hand under Eliza’s right breast and angled it toward him so that he could smear the sticky substance on her right nipple. He repeated the procedure with her left breast and then sucked his finger clean.

“Did you like that?” he asked, grinning at her. “Say that you do.”

Although she felt as though a band had been wrapped around her, cutting off her breath, Eliza managed to respond. “Yes, I do.”

He pinched her right nipple. “Say, ‘I do like it. I like it very much.’”

The pinch hurt, but it was not the pain that weakened Eliza. Rather, it was the knowledge that this hideous man could do whatever he wished to her. And was the handsome one watching? Was he enjoying her humiliation? Darkness floated behind her eyes but she fought it back. She simply couldn’t afford to faint. “I do like it,” she whispered. Then, more loudly, “I do like it.”

She thought she heard a snort from the man standing near the sideboard.

Mr. Cockington tsked and shook his head. “Now I’m going to have to reapply honey to that nipple, and it’s your fault because I had to pinch it to make you obey me. Do you understand that it’s your fault?”

“Yes,” Eliza said. “I understand, Mr. Cockington.” She clenched her teeth while the fellow again spread the substance around the nipple, paying special attention to the tip. When he’d finished, he pulled Eliza toward the table where a small pile of rose petals was situated between two of the plates. He picked up two rose petals, lightly applied one to each nipple, then forced her chin up so that she had to look at him.

“Here’s what is going to happen. You will sit between two gentlemen during dinner. If a rose petal falls off your tit, the gentleman on that side of you will suck your nipple clean, reapply the honey, and reapply the rose petal. This will be repeated as often as a petal falls off. You will not object. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Mr. Cockington.”

“And you, Mr. Lade, do you agree?”

The man turned then, his handsome jaw set. When he spoke, it was through his teeth. “Yes.”

“Very good. You may now bring your friends in and then take your place at the head of the table. I’ll seat Miss Jillian. After your friends are seated on either side of her, I’ll serve dinner.”

The men who joined them were young, handsome, and grinning as though they could hardly believe their luck at having been invited to this particular dinner on this particular evening.

They hurried to take their seats on either side of Eliza. Each stared at her breasts, their eyes widening when they saw the single rose petal attached to each nipple.

“Are we allowed to touch?” the one on her right asked, looking away from her and toward their host. Mr. Cockington answered in his stead.

“Only if a petal falls. Then you should suck off the honey that was applied to make the petal stick. After that you may take as much time as you like reapplying the honey and then another rose petal.”

“But what if the petal never falls?” the man on her left asked.

Mr. Cockington merely grinned and shrugged, then told everyone to take a sip of wine while he stepped into the kitchen to fetch the soup.

Five minutes later, Eliza had begun to relax slightly. The men had apparently grown tired of staring at her breasts and were now engaged with Mr. Lade in a conversation related to some recent boxing match they’d all attended. She’d even managed to eat a few bites of soup, being extremely careful as she lifted her hand toward her mouth so as not to brush against her breast.

Then Mr. Cockington came back to touch up their wine. Eliza had taken only a drop of hers so the glass didn’t really need refilling, but he stepped to her right side anyway, reached in front of her, and in straightening, purposely dragged his sleeve against the rose petal on her nipple. “Gads, would you look what I’ve done?” he said. His chortle was mocking.

The man on her right side, who’d been introduced merely as Garett, looked at her breast, then grinned and addressed her. “Wonderful. I was afraid I wouldn’t have the opportunity to participate in your education tonight. Turn toward me slightly so I can suck the honey off.”

Aware that Mr. Cockington had never intended to let her go through the meal without losing a petal, Eliza took a deep breath and angled her body slightly to the right.

“Good girl,” the fellow muttered, placing his hand under her breast to lift it. He scooted down in his chair, took her nipple in his mouth and began to suckle. “Mmmm,” he said, then ran his tongue around and around and then back and forth across the nipple. Eliza was horrified to realize that her body was beginning to react to his ministrations. The nipple hardened and seemed to swell, and the fellow laughed in delight.

“Now then, you like what I’m doing, I see,” he said. “Just wait until I finish with the honey.”

He took his time about that too, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, until Eliza felt flashes of desire shooting from her breast down her belly and into the private place between her thighs. Her breathing changed slightly, growing more rapid, and she struggled to hide her reactions.

Finally the fellow finished with the honey, then placed another petal on her nipple, but she could judge that he barely touched the petal to the honey. He appeared to be hoping this one would fall off of its own accord.

“Now for the next course,” Mr. Cockington said. Eliza was not surprised when he reached for the bowl of the man on her left and again dragged his sleeve across her breast, knocking the petal off.

“Hurrah,” shouted the man who was called Jerome. “My turn.”

He was not as gentle as Garett had been. He sucked harder on the nipple, keeping at it long after the honey had disappeared. Then he used his teeth to nibble on the engorged tip. When Eliza gasped in pain, he pulled back, apologized, and switched to his tongue rather than his teeth. When he’d finally sucked his fill, he announced he would try to apply the honey with his tongue.

The men on either side of her had been drinking liberally and found it delightfully funny when Jerome layered honey on the end of his tongue and then attempted to transfer it to Eliza’s nipple. After half a dozen failed attempts, Mr. Lade rather abruptly suggested to Jerome that he use his finger to apply the honey so they could move on to the next course.

Perhaps it was due to the impatience in Mr. Lade’s voice, but Jerome appeared to sober somewhat. He applied the honey with his finger in a businesslike manner and pushed the rose petal onto Eliza’s nipple with considerable force. She thought it might stay if Mr. Cockington didn’t purposely knock it off.

Halfway through the next course, this entire process was repeated, with Mr. Cockington purposely dislodging the rose petals and both Garett and Jerome taking turns at reapplying them. As they became increasingly intoxicated, their actions became clumsier so that they required more and more time to apply the honey and rose petals. More than once Eliza flinched when their attentions grew too enthusiastic, and each time Mr. Lade spoke up and warned them to be more careful.

She would have been appreciative of his apparent concern had he not continued to watch her with so much heat in his eyes that she would not have been surprised if his gaze had burned her skin.

Finally, after the last course had been cleared away, Mr. Lade addressed Eliza directly for the first time since they’d sat down to eat. “You know what happens next, I assume.”

She met his gaze and willed her own expression to be frigid in contrast to the heat contained in his. “You assume too much. I have no idea what comes next.”

His nostrils flared. “I’m going to make you come without taking your virginity.”

Eliza didn’t know what he was talking about but was afraid to say so. She managed to keep her voice from trembling, but it cost her. “How will you do that?”

A sneer lifted the corners of his lips. “You play the innocent well, my dear, but unfortunately, I’m not in the mood for games. In fact, I had my fill of games a long time ago.” He glanced toward Mr. Cockington. “Where do you want her?”

“I’ll clear the table. She can lie on top of that. I want to see her with the soles of her feet together and holding herself open for you.”

A muscle jumped in the man’s jaw. “Let’s not drag this out. I’ll clear the table.” He picked up the candelabra, handed it to Jerome to hold, and then grasped one end of the tablecloth, giving it a fierce jerk. Within seconds, everything had been flung to the floor. China and crystal shattered and the wine that had remained in glasses spread out into puddles of red. “There,” Mr. Lade said coldly. “The table has been cleared.”

Both Garett and Jerome had jumped back with muffled curses. Mr. Cockington merely raised his brows before turning to address Eliza. “Stand up and take your clothes off.”

She could feel the blood leaving her face but managed to keep her hands steady as she dropped her dress and undergarments to the floor. Within a few seconds, she stood in front of the men, fully naked. She assumed they were staring at her, but she couldn’t lift her gaze. A second later she stifled a scream. Mr. Lade had stepped to her side, bent forward, and picked her up by placing one arm around the back of her knees and the other around her torso.

Her instinct was to fight him, but common sense quickly asserted itself. She merely gasped and then flung her arms around his neck to steady herself when she felt her feet leave the floor.

He held her close, and she found herself turning her body inward toward him. She pressed her sensitized breasts into the smooth fabric of his coat, welcoming the opportunity to hide herself for a short time. Unfortunately, he held her only long enough to carry her to the table. Within seconds she found herself lying flat on its hard, cold surface.

Mr. Cockington walked to the opposite side of the table and reached with one finger to touch her most private place. “Spread your legs and pull yourself open here,” he said. “Mr. Lade is going to finger your pussy and make you come. Once you’ve proven to me that you can successfully come when a man fingers you, you’ll be finished here and can return home.”

Only that sliver of hope gave Eliza the courage to reach down and open herself to whatever was to come.

“Open your eyes,” Mr. Cockington commanded. “You’ll either watch or we’ll have to repeat this procedure until you do.”

Eliza opened her eyes. Mr. Cockington looked at her, smirking. Mr. Lade stared at her privates with an expression she couldn’t read. Then he looked into her eyes. “I’m going to begin now.”

He touched her gently there, then cursed under his breath. “She’s dry as a desert. I can’t make her come this way. She’d better stop holding herself open. That may be contributing to the dryness.”

Then, to Eliza’s horror, he walked to her head, bent over her face, and began to kiss her. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea what to expect.

But the last thing she would have expected would have been the gentleness of his kiss. His lips were tender and teasing. He took his time, dragging his lips back and forth across hers until she sighed, the warm air brushing across her sensitized flesh.

Only then did he begin to use his tongue, and he again started off gently, merely outlining her lips until her mouth seemed to open of its own volition. When his tongue insinuated itself between her lips, she was amazed that her reaction was neither disgust nor displeasure. Instead, she felt the strangest urge to use her own tongue to engage his in what she could only assume had been a practice perfected between men and women for centuries.

Then, when she’d actually begun to enjoy the kiss, he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I’m hoping your body will be cooperating a little more.”

He sounded quite businesslike, and she felt a blush of humiliation reddening her cheeks. She prayed he hadn’t realized that she’d ended up longing to participate in that kiss.

Without looking, he eased a hand to her pussy and ran a finger between the folds. “You’re beginning to get wet,” he said. “I hope you don’t prove to be this much work for any men in your future.”

While Eliza was pondering those words, he patted her on the side of the breast. “Since you’re obviously not accustomed to this, perhaps Garett and Jerome should help us out.” His gaze cut to his two friends. “You fellows work with her breasts while I try to make her come. If she’s sufficiently aroused, maybe this won’t take all night.”

Eliza rolled her lips together to keep from objecting to this further humiliation, but she feared Mr. Lade might be correct. Since she wasn’t sure what reaction she was supposed to have, she knew she’d better go along with whatever he suggested.

Seconds later, she heard chairs scraping against the floor as Jerome and Garett pulled up on either side of her and simultaneously started massaging her breasts. She could feel blood rushing to her face. Having three men doing things to her body at the same time resulted in such conflicting feelings that she was amazed she didn’t simply fly apart. Then, as Mr. Lade reached inside her, coating his finger with the liquid she could feel her body producing, her control slipped. Without having the intention of doing so, she slapped his hand away.

Instantly fearful that she might be making bad matters worse, she caught his eye, pulled in a quick breath and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.”

His gaze was unreadable but his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Perhaps you need more attention in order to enjoy what’s to come. Fellows, use your tongues on her tits.”

As the two men at her side rose and bent over her, each taking a nipple in his mouth, Eliza closed her eyes and prayed that Mr. Cockington wouldn’t force her to open them again. She feared she could not retain her composure if she had to watch while Garett flicked his tongue back and forth across her right nipple and Jerome used his tongue to circle the left nipple. To her horror she found herself longing for them to take her nipples in their months and suckle.

At that moment, Mr. Lade again touched her folds with one finger, and she cringed as she felt her pussy quivering. “She’s beginning to respond,” he announced to the others. “Keep it up.”

Jerome stopped licking her nipple long enough to speak. “Oh, it’s up all right,” he said on a moan. “Are you sure we can’t fuck her? My dick’s not at all happy.”

“She has to be a virgin when she leaves here,” Mr. Lade said. “That is, assuming she was one to begin with. Maybe I’d better check.” His finger left her folds and thrust inside her briefly. “She’s a virgin,” he announced a second later. “Now to make her come so we can get her out of here.”

Eliza was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what was being said. The continued attentions to her breasts and Mr. Lade’s renewed caressing of the folds of her pussy were creating reactions in her body she’d never experienced before. She was finding it difficult to control her breathing, and her breasts felt as though they were growing heavier as each man continued attentions to her nipples.

But more embarrassing and certainly more difficult to control was the sensation in her pussy of wanting to move in conjunction with the gentle back and forth movements of Mr. Lade’s finger.

Then he touched, with just his fingertip, an area that felt as though it was hidden in the folds, and Eliza’s hips shot upward of their own accord. She almost wanted to cry when he withdrew his finger completely.

“I think I’m getting somewhere,” he said. “She’s beginning to like what I’m doing.”

Eliza longed to scream at him, to call him a liar, to vow that she could never enjoy having her body manipulated in such a humiliating fashion, but he’d parted her pussy again, holding it open with his left hand while he dragged the forefinger of his right hand back and forth. She felt moisture coating the entire surface and wondered if that was normal.

Then he increased the pressure of his finger and the urge to rise to meet it was too strong. She clamped her legs together.

He sighed. “If you want to be doing this all night, we can, but I’d prefer to have it over with. You need to let go, to let your body respond to me.”

Biting her lip, Eliza nodded. “I’ll try,” she murmured. Then although it was the hardest thing she’d ever done, she eased her legs open.

She was certain Mr. Cockington had been standing nearby watching, but he hadn’t said a word in the last few minutes. Now, however, he stepped forward and tapped her right knee. “I want to see you with the soles of your feet together and your legs down flat. Then you’ll hold yourself open and let yourself come or I’ll give these men permission to fuck you. Do you understand?”

Eliza’s eyes flew open in time to see Mr. Lade turn and stare at Mr. Cockington. His voice when he spoke could have severed steel. “I draw the line at rape.”

Garett gave her nipple a flick. “But she’s just a whore.”

“She’ll come for me soon and we’ll let her go,” Mr. Lade said stonily. He looked into Eliza’s eyes and appeared to be sending her some sort of message. “Give your body permission to do what it wants to do and we’ll be finished here.”

Eliza licked her lips. “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

“Assume the position,” Mr. Cockington snarled.

Eliza was past feeling humiliation. She placed the soles of her feet together and reached with both hands to hold her pussy open. Both Garett and Jerome leaned sideways to watch Mr. Lade manipulating her pussy, but each kept a hand on her breast, idly tweaking her nipples.

“Keep your eyes open,” Mr. Cockington commanded.

Eliza looked at Mr. Lade and realized he was seeking her gaze. She continued to stare into his eyes as he again started fondling her. Soon he increased the pressure, and she allowed herself to begin moving with the sensations he created.

As his pressure increased, so did her movements, and then his finger again found the spot that multiplied the sensations at least a thousand times. Her eyes widened as craving filled her beyond her control. Her breath started coming in gasps as her hips shot upward.

Her gasps grew shorter and shorter while her hips shot higher and higher. Suddenly chills swept her entire body. She was amazed to hear moans of unprecedented pleasure emanating from her lips, and Mr. Cockington chortled in some sort of unholy glee.

As the sensations died, Eliza realized that her hips were no longer rising in an attempt to follow Mr. Lade’s fingers. He pulled away as her bottom came back to rest on the table. Afraid to close her eyes for fear Mr. Cockington would force her to repeat the whole procedure, she watched Mr. Lade. His gaze moved from her pussy to her face, and his eyes appeared to glitter with hatred as he looked from her to Mr. Cockington.

Then he bent over, retrieved a napkin from the floor, damped it in one of the puddles of wine, and wiped off his fingers that had so recently been engaged in rubbing her pussy. That was when she realized she still lay with her knees drawn up and her legs spread apart. Now embarrassed beyond caring what else they did to her, she slammed her legs together, but no one appeared to notice. Mr. Lade stared at Mr. Cockington, his nostrils flaring as though an ugly odor permeated the room. “We’re finished here,” he said. “I made her come. Now both of you can go.”

Mr. Cockington grinned. “Have no fear. I’m a man of my word.” He looked at Eliza. “Get up, Miss Jillian, and get dressed. Then thank the gentlemen nicely for helping you with your training, and we’ll leave.”

Eliza scrambled off the table and grabbed her clothing from the nearby chair. Terrified that one of the men in that room would change his mind and force her to stay, she dressed as quickly as her trembling hands would permit. Within a couple of minutes, she was shaking her skirt out around her legs. “I’m ready to go,” she said.

Mr. Cockington stepped forward and wrapped his icy fingers around her arm. “In that case, we shall make our exit.” He bowed, mockingly, to Mr. Lade and his friends. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. Good evening.”

He led Eliza from the room, back down the corridors and into the room where she’d left her cloak. “Stand here,” he said gruffly, then walked to a window and held the lantern up as though signaling someone outside.

Within two minutes, Nate had hurried back into the room, but he wasn’t alone. A woman accompanied him. She was similar to Eliza in coloring and size but her face was covered with a multitude of pockmarks.

Mr. Cockington picked up Eliza’s cloak and tossed it to the woman. “Slip that on and then put on the hat. You’ll accompany me while Nate returns the female to her home.”

He finally released Eliza’s arm. “Go with Nate. You’ll find your sister safe in her nursery when you arrive home.”

Eliza did not necessarily accept the idea that she would live to see home again nor was she convinced that Abby would be there should she arrive safely, but she saw no option except to accompany Nate. Even if she could escape from him, she had no idea where she was or how she could find her home again.

“Hurry now,” Mr. Cockington said, placing his hand on Eliza’s back and pushing her toward the door leading outside. Nate held the door open and then stepped outside immediately behind her.

As she and Nate walked toward an alley, she glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed Mr. Cockington and the strange female who was wearing her cloak and hat. They were scurrying in the opposite direction and soon disappeared into the shadows of another alleyway. For a split second, Eliza thought she detected another form following them, but perhaps, she realized, it was no more than the flicker of a shadow, and she turned away.

The night air was cool on her bare arms, but she was so thrilled to be out of that house and away from those horrid men that she reveled in the damp and chill air on her skin. It helped remind her that she had survived this hideous evening.

Thus far, at least.

Nate hurried her along, occasionally glancing back over his shoulder as though he thought someone might be trailing them. Eliza couldn’t imagine whom he might fear, but she was delighted he seemed in a hurry. She couldn’t wait to get back to her home and check on Abby.

She had no idea what she would do if Abby wasn’t back home yet. But if her little sister had been returned unharmed, Eliza already was formulating plans to protect her in the future. Richard was due back soon, and he was the head of the family in their father’s absence.

Eliza planned to convince Richard to send Abby to their country estate. She would do whatever it took, outside of telling him the truth, of course. If necessary, she would make up a story about nonexistent illnesses striking down children in London. Or she would swear that Abby begged daily to return to the country. She would, in fact, do whatever was required to get Richard to send Abby away.

Five minutes later, Nate opened the garden gate and nodded toward her home. “Yer little sister will be safe inside, milady.”

“Who…” Eliza began, but before she could finish framing her question, he had turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Although the moon was setting, there was still ample light for Eliza to make her way to the door and let herself into the house. Not wanting to awaken any of the servants, she crept along, feeling her way until she reached the kitchen where a banked fire had been left in the fireplace.

Taking the stub of a candle from the mantel, she lit it from the embers in the fireplace and then made her way up two flights of stairs until she stood outside the nursery door. It was open a crack, so she pushed it wider and stepped inside.

Abby’s bedchamber opened off the nursery on one side of the room, and Mrs. Tipton’s chamber was located on the opposite side. Eliza hurried across the room and, holding her breath, stepped into Abby’s chamber.

The child lay sleeping peacefully, her lips twitched upward in the hint of a smile, as though her dreams were happy ones.

“My lady?”

Eliza stifled a scream when Mrs. Tipton’s voice sounded right behind her. She spun and looked into the nurse’s concerned gaze.

Mrs. Tipton spoke first. “I see you’re dressed, so obviously that new footman made so much noise he woke you when he brought Abby home. I had a word to say to him about not being so loud.”

Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat. “What reason did he give for her return in the middle of the night?”

“He just told me she wanted to come home.”

“Did Abby seem upset?”

Mrs. Tipton smiled. “Oh no. She was all smiles and giggles. Said she’d had a good time with the little girl. I don’t know why she stopped calling her cousin Mary, but she just kept referring to ‘the little girl’. In any case, I gave her a glass of warm milk and put her to bed. She fell asleep right away.”

Eliza had to lock her knees to keep from swaying. Apparently they’d treated Abby well and returned her safely.

Now that Eliza’s greatest fear had dissipated, she immediately started wondering why the events of that evening had taken place and who was behind them. Obviously, the new footman had played a role, and she intended to question him first thing tomorrow, then see to it that he lost his position.

“My lady?” Mrs. Tipton’s voice was filled with concern. “Why aren’t you dressed for bed? You’re not sickening with something, are you?”

Eliza glanced down at her rumpled dress and forced a smile. “I fear I’ve been enthralled in a book and let the time slip away from me. I’m going to bed right now and suggest you do the same. Good night, Mrs. Tipton.”

Half an hour later, Eliza had stripped off her clothes, washed herself in the water Agatha had left in the pitcher on her nightstand, and pulled on her night rail. Then she slipped under the covers on her bed and lay staring at the candle stub until it flickered and went out.

The one thought that kept running through her mind was that no matter what she had to do to accomplish her new goal, she would somehow convince her father that he must refuse any offers he might receive for her hand.

Because after tonight, she was determined that whatever happened in the future, the very last thing she would ever do would be to marry and thus give her husband the right to touch her body in whatever way he pleased. The very thought brought cold chills to her spine and twitches of pain to her belly.

Which in no way explained why on earth the thought of never seeing Mr. Lade again brought a deep sense of loss to her very soul.

Chapter Three

Two hours later at the London town house of the Marquess of Chamberly

“Damn it to hell, Jerome. I can’t believe you lost them.”

The Marquess of Chamberly slammed his glass onto the sideboard and glared at one of his oldest friends and compatriots. He wasn’t in the habit of placing blame when a friend failed to complete an assignment, but his disappointment was keen. During the whole debacle of that evening, while he’d been trying to make that silly female come, he’d comforted himself in the belief that he’d soon be able to bring both her and Mr. Cockington to justice. After all, he and Jerome and Garett possessed a variety of skills that had enabled them to serve as the most successful of the army’s undercover agents during England’s long war.

In fact, Jerome had come to his rescue on that occasion two years earlier when he’d been forced to run naked from a French cottage after having been betrayed by the woman he’d almost fallen in love with. Over the months that followed that occasion, he’d taught himself not to dwell on that evening, not to relive those hours when he’d burrowed into a trench beside the cottage, hiding under the blanket he’d left there along with a bundle of clothes three weeks earlier.

And except for the occasional nightmare, he’d stopping recalling the shouts of the French soldiers as they scoured the surrounding woodland for him. He’d especially tried to block from his memory their reassurances to Cerise that the Englishman couldn’t live out the night, wounded and naked in the below-freezing temperatures.

Most of all, he’d tried to forget her hate-filled words to the soldiers: “Imbéciles! Without a body, we can’t prove he’s dead and collect the reward on his head.”

He’d secreted himself in that trench for three long days and nights until the soldiers had given up and gone away, taking Cerise with them. One of the soldiers had appeared to take Cerise as his mistress. At that point, Chamberly had merely been glad that she was gone.

When he’d finally determined that the coast was clear, he’d crept out of hiding in the dark of night. Again weak from hunger, he’d also been half dead due to the fever that had resulted from the shallow gunshot wound to his shoulder.

Dressed in the shirt and trousers he’d retrieved from his pack, he’d stumbled through the forest for three hours before Jerome had found him. Both Garett and Jerome had assumed he was in trouble because of his unusually long absence and had been searching for him. They’d heard rumors of an Englishman who had barely escaped capture and was now presumed dead, but they’d known Chamberly well enough not to give up on finding him alive unless they had proof of his death.

Even after the war ended and they’d all returned to England, Garett and Jerome had remained his steadfast friends, which made him regret his harsh words tonight. However, when he attempted an apology, Jerome waved him to silence.

“No apology needed,” Jerome said. “After all, I did lose them.” He sighed and reached for the brandy decanter. “They split up, so I followed the female, figuring that Miss Jillian was your prime interest. When she stepped into a pub where the light was better and turned back toward me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Instead of the blonde beauty I thought I was following, she was a pockmarked harpy. She grinned at me and then slipped out a side door and disappeared into the shadows. I knew then I’d been outwitted.”

Jerome paused to pour a glass of brandy, then looked back toward his host with a frown. “But what of little Charlotte? When Garett visited your brother’s house, was he able to determine whether she’d been returned safely?”

“Yes, praise the Lord. Seems my brother thought she was with me all along. Garett didn’t tell him any different. I’ll visit David tomorrow and tell him the truth. He needs to be aware that someone in his household is not to be trusted.”

“Where’s Garett now?”

“He’s visiting some of our old haunts, hoping to get a clue as to the real identity of Mr. Cockington.”

Jerome took a healthy swallow of his brandy. “What kind of bastard abducts a three-year-old girl just to use her as a pawn in a silly game?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Obviously, my friend, you have a maniacal enemy, but who is it? Do you have any idea?”

“None, I’m afraid. If we hadn’t already defeated Napoleon, I’d suspect the French. On the other hand, tonight’s episode is not something a soldier or spy—even one of Napoleon’s—would have orchestrated. The whole business is downright peculiar. Why would someone want to force me to help initiate a whore into the business of being a prostitute?”

“I certainly don’t understand it,” Jerome said. “But we’ll find the female, along with Mr. Cockington.”

“Without a doubt,” Chamberly agreed, his tone grim. “And when we do, they’ll learn the cost of daring to touch little Charlotte.”

Jerome frowned. “You’re certain she wasn’t hurt?”

“According to Garett, she was giggling and laughing about the fun she had playing with another child. The fact that she wasn’t injured is the only reason I don’t intend to kill Mr. Cockington and Miss Jillian when we find them. They will, however, regret their part in tonight’s charade.”

Jerome turned up his glass, emptied it, and set it down on the sideboard with force. “Damn right.” He sighed. “Well, I’d better go home and get some rest. I plan to be busy until we find the people we’re looking for.”

Chamberly’s smile contained not a hint of mirth. “With our skills, I’d think we should be able to hunt them down in a matter of days.”

“If not hours,” Jerome chimed in before making his way to the door and tossing up a hand in farewell.

* * * * *

Chamberly clenched his teeth and stepped into his aunt’s crowded ballroom. Three interminable weeks had passed since the night he’d received a letter informing him that his little niece had been abducted and that he would be required to help initiate a prospective prostitute into the activities that would be expected of her. Since that night, neither he nor his friends had been able to turn up a single clue toward her identity or that of the man who had called himself Mr. Cockington.

Chamberly would have preferred being out tonight visiting the taverns and gaming hells of London’s notorious underworld in search of the man he now hated above all others in England. Unfortunately, Lady Formuth, his late father’s sister, had sent him an invitation to her annual ball, and she would never forgive him if he didn’t at least make an appearance.

He arrived as late as he could without insulting his aunt. A country dance was just ending, and he felt dozens of pairs of eyes cut toward him. He knew he was still considered an enigma by many of his countrymen, who often speculated as to whether he and his cohorts had spent the last three years working for the army or holed up at an unknown location amusing themselves in unholy ways. The confusion surrounding their activities had worked to their advantage since their work for the War Office often required them to be away from hearth and home for months at a time. In fact, to further the confusion and to support the belief that Chamberly and his friends were actually living a life of levity in one of his most remote properties, he’d concocted a name for their fictitious, nefarious club—The Riotous Revelers.

Even now, when he and his friends were safely returned to England, Chamberly didn’t go out of his way to deny the rumors about them, which were certainly less than complimentary. Still, probably because of his rank, people tended to court his company. Tonight, as the dance ended, half a dozen men bowed to their partners, returned them to their chaperones, and turned to watch him.

As one of those men stepped away from his recent dance partner, Chamberly caught a glimpse of the woman’s back and felt a stab of recognition, which was ridiculous. Having been out of the country for three years, there were a slew of debutantes he’d never met, and that blonde was surely one of them.

Still, the way she held her head, along with the unusual brightness of her hair, reminded him of someone he couldn’t place. He decided on the spot to find a way to meet her at some point during the evening.

But his immediate attention must be directed to his aunt, who approached him with narrowed eyes and a brittle smile. He’d better try to placate her before she gave him one of her famous set-downs.

He held out his hands and went to meet her. “Aunt Bernice. How lovely you look tonight. And your ball is, as always, the talk of the city. Congratulations on another triumph.”

She allowed him to grasp her hands and lift the right one to his lips. “Scoundrel,” she said in a scolding tone, but her smile had changed from forced to genuine, and her eyes twinkled. “And you, as usual, are late. I suppose I should be grateful that you’ve condescended to attend at all. I hear you’ve forgone all of the ton’s entertainments of late to hang out in the most disreputable establishments in London.”

“And when did you start putting credence in gossip, my dear aunt?”

“Don’t think you can put me on the defensive, young man. Talk isn’t necessarily gossip if it’s the truth.”

“Will you forgive me if I declare that yours is the only entertainment that was imbued with a temptation so strong that I couldn’t stay away?”

She laughed out loud at that. “Lord, child, but your blandishments remind me of my dear departed brother. Rarely have I seen a son so like his father as you are to him. Had he lived, he would be immensely proud of you.”

She reclaimed her hand in order to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. Then she thrust her arm through his and started leading him to the opposite side of the room. “There are several young ladies here I’d like you to meet. It’s time you were setting up your nursery.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Bear in mind, my lady, that the succession is as insured as these things can ever be. Not only do I have an heir in David, but my little brother has been fortunate enough to sire three sons who are also in line for the title. I’ve no need to worry about a nursery.”

His aunt tapped him on the arm. “I wasn’t referring to the succession. I’m well aware that your brother could step into your shoes if necessary, God forbid. I was thinking more of your happiness. A man needs a wife and family to anchor him and give him a reason to settle down.”

He purposely kept his tone dry. He couldn’t very well explain to his aunt that he didn’t trust his judgment where women were concerned and thus preferred to remain single rather than risk making a scheming female like Cerise his marchioness. He smiled, then inclined his head. “Thank you, my dear aunt. I deeply appreciate your concern for my future happiness.”

She snorted, then smiled. “That’s a blatant falsehood. You don’t appreciate my interference in the least, but it’s kind of you to pretend. And speaking of your brother, why did David take his entire family and retire to the country so soon? He’s always attended my ball in the past.”

Although he hated to continue lying to his aunt, Chamberly was glad he had another falsehood already prepared. “Little Charlotte gave David a scare when he thought she’d been exposed to a particularly virulent illness. Although it turned out that there was nothing wrong with her, he decided for his peace of mind to take her to the country where she’d not be at risk again.”

His aunt gazed at him for a few seconds as though she was trying to decide whether to press for more details, so he was almost relieved that their walk across the ballroom had brought them close to the small group of simpering misses he assumed his aunt wanted him to meet.

But before anyone could catch his eye, he glanced toward his right. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was a glimpse of the woman’s hair in his peripheral vision that captured his attention and called out to him. He could remember only one other female with hair quite that shade of gold, and the heat of anger flared quickly.

He still couldn’t see her face. She stood with a group of other women, obviously engaged in conversation. Her back was to him, and his view was limited, but he could judge that she was of medium height and slender. At that second, she tilted her head forward as though to listen more closely to the woman facing her, and the shawl covering her shoulders slipped. A tantalizing and somehow familiar hint of slender neck and white shoulder was revealed for half a second before she pulled the shawl back in place.

Who the hell was she, and why did he think he had met her before?

His aunt had begun tugging on his arm, intent on introducing him to the females who watched him with avaricious eyes, so he was forced to turn his attention toward these young ladies enjoying their first Season. There was not a one of them, he was sure, who would not welcome being married to a marquess, even if that marquess was an ogre.

But he owed it to his aunt to be polite. After chatting with the young ladies for several minutes, he excused himself and went in search of the female with the golden hair.

She had moved only a few steps from her last location. Now she was conversing with a group that included two ladies and two gentlemen. As luck would have it, the orchestra began playing a waltz, and the woman’s companions paired off and headed for the dance floor, leaving her alone. As she turned her head to watch them go, Chamberly got his first look at her face. His heart stuttered for a split second and then sped up to send blood surging through his veins.

“I’ll be damned,” he murmured. He’d spent the last three weeks searching for Miss Jillian in every lowlife brothel in London and now here she stood in his aunt’s ballroom mixing with the cream of the ton.

He wanted nothing more than to denounce her on the spot, but he preferred not to cause a scene at his aunt’s ball. He took a step to the rear and then eased a few paces to his left until he was positioned just behind Miss Jillian’s right shoulder. Fortunately, she still stood alone watching the dancers.

“Dear me, Miss Jillian,” he said softly. “I hate to disappoint you, but I fear you’ve come to the wrong address. The Cyprian’s Ball for the demimonde is generally held at the Argyle Rooms, not in the home of the Countess of Formuth.”

He had expected her to spin to face him or perhaps to attempt to flee, in which case he would have happily grabbed and held her. Instead, she turned around slowly. Fear widened her eyes even as the blood drained from her face. For a few seconds, he thought he’d have to catch her after all, but not because she was running from him. He expected her at any minute to faint dead away.

But she did not. Instead, she appeared to gather herself, and she lifted her chin to regard him with a degree of hauteur he hadn’t expected in a harlot.

She was more beautiful tonight than she’d been three weeks earlier when she’d appeared half dazed during her initiation. Her gorgeous hair, which had fallen about her shoulders in disarray the first time he’d seen her, tonight had been swept up into an elaborate series of curls and waves that framed her face and accentuated the perfection of her features.

Her eyes, which he remembered as being merely blue, tonight resembled the azure of an autumn sky at twilight. She didn’t drop her gaze but looked directly into his face with an expression that appeared to intermingle fear with fury.

“Mr. Lade,” she said, nodding her head as a lady might to a casual acquaintance. “I was not aware that a man of your class would be admitted to such entertainments. Or is your hostess not aware of your presence?”

Her gaze shifted to a spot behind his right shoulder, and a whiff of his aunt’s perfume alerted him to her approach. He turned his head just as she stepped to his side.

“Ah, my dear nephew. You continue to surprise me. I wasn’t aware that you are acquainted with Lady Eliza. But no doubt you are a friend of her brother, Lord Dunmorn.”

It required all of Chamberly’s years of training not to betray his feelings. What in Hades? If this female was indeed a sister to Viscount Dunmorn, that meant she was a daughter of the Earl of Greenley, so surely she was not also a prostitute in training.

Obviously something was going on that was even more outlandish than he had first thought, and he intended to get to the bottom of it. He forced a smile and addressed his aunt. “Lady Eliza and I met at some point in the past, and we were just trying to recall the circumstances.”

He turned back to the woman who now stared at him as though he were a nightmare come to life. “Walk with me a minute, Lady Eliza, and we’ll continue our conversation. If we put our heads together, no doubt we’ll recall our first encounter.”

He nodded a brief farewell to his aunt and grasped Eliza’s arm. She would have pulled away but he tightened his grip and leaned toward her to speak softly. “We need to talk. I want to know who brought you to my house three weeks ago, and why you came.”

She regarded him suspiciously. “Is Lady Formuth really your aunt?”

“She is.” He linked an arm with hers and started walking toward one of the alcoves, pulling her along with him.

“Then you must be the Marquess of Chamberly.”

“That is correct.”

“Then why did you…” She seemed suddenly at a loss for words but he could imagine what she’d been about to ask.

“Probably for the same reason you agreed to go along with everything that occurred that evening. Obviously we have a mutual enemy.”

She halted as they reached the alcove entrance. “I have no enemies.”

“Then you participated in the activities that night of your own free will?”

Her eyes widened and a quick blush reddened her cheeks. “Of course not.”

“Then you have an enemy,” he said flatly. “Come, let’s sit and talk a minute. You’re in no danger from me.”

She gave the matter a moment’s thought and slowly nodded. “Very well. But I don’t think I can be of much help to you.”

“You can tell me exactly what led up to your appearing at my house that evening.” He guided her to a chair half hidden in a corner of the alcove and sat down facing her. “Begin at the beginning,” he said, then watched her closely. More than once in the past, his life had depended on his being able to judge another man’s veracity, and he had learned to trust his instincts despite the fact that his experience with Cerise had proved he was not infallible. Still, he was almost positive the woman sitting across from him tonight was telling the truth, and his respect for her increased with every portion of the story she told.

She spoke succinctly and with a firm grasp of her emotions when she described her little sister. Chamberly nodded. He’d met people with characteristics similar to Abby’s, and he accepted that she would not have comprehended what was happening to her. Thus, he understood why Lady Eliza would have been willing to do whatever was necessary to protect the child. After all, he’d felt the same about little Charlotte.

He listened closely to her description of the footman who had disappeared immediately after returning Abby to her home. But the next portion of her story especially attracted his attention.

“Nate? This is the first I’ve heard of him. Can you describe him?”

He listened carefully to Lady Eliza’s description and was disappointed to realize that the details she provided could accurately be applied to hundreds of men in London.

“And you’re sure you’ve never seen Mr. Cockington before?” he asked.

He watched a shudder shake her frame before she squared her shoulders, and he was aware that the recollections she was sharing with him came at considerable cost to her peace of mind. He hated causing her distress, but he knew this mystery had to be solved for both their sakes.

Her response was little more than a whisper. “No, I’d never seen him before and I hope I never see him again.”

“I’m sorry if my questions are upsetting—”

A man’s voice interrupted him. “Eliza! I’ve looked everywhere for you. Your absence from the ballroom has been remarked by several people.”

Chamberly looked toward the alcove’s entrance and realized that Lady Eliza’s brother had hunted them down. Eliza gasped and jumped to her feet. Chamberly stood slowly and nodded solemnly to her brother, a fellow he’d met on a few occasions. “My apologies, Dunmorn. I’ve been at fault for monopolizing your sister’s company. We were trying to establish when and where we might have met in the past.”

Viscount Dunmorn’s expression did not lighten. “My sister is not in the habit of wandering away from her family and friends. I’ll escort her back to the ballroom. Her partner for the upcoming dance has been looking for her.”

Chamberly glanced at Lady Eliza, who was staring at the floor. “By all means,” he said, forcing a hint of joviality into his tone. “And Lady Eliza?”

She looked at him then, an expression of pleading in her eyes. Did she think he was going to denounce her to her brother? He held her gaze, hoping she would understand the message he was trying to send her. “Are we agreed, then, that I’ll come by to pick you up tomorrow afternoon at four for a drive in the park?”

“Yes, four o’clock,” she murmured. “I’ll see you then.” She hurried to her brother’s side and disappeared into the corridor, leaving Chamberly to wonder where in Hades her overly protective brother had been on the night she’d been forced to play the part of prostitute-in-training in order to protect their little sister.

Chapter Four

Eliza lay in bed that evening after the ball, staring at the ceiling and trying to recall every second of her conversation with the Marquess of Chamberly. Just thinking of him stirred up strange and disturbing feelings within her. He was her worst nightmare, a man who had kissed her and touched her and caused her body to react to his ministrations in ways that inundated her in waves of humiliation.

At the same time, thoughts of him caused her nipples to harden and her most private parts to ache with a need she’d never known before that night.

What was wrong with her? Surely those longings were not normal. Surely a woman couldn’t crave the touch of a man, especially of a man who had performed unthinkable acts that had made her body behave in ways she still didn’t understand.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself that he was the devil incarnate, she had to admit that he’d not been as unkind to her that evening in his home as he might have been. At one point, he’d captured her gaze and seemed to be trying to communicate with her in a way that excluded the horrible Mr. Cockington and that seemed designed to ease the way for her somewhat.

So while she certainly wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again, she was not dreading their upcoming drive in the park as much as she might otherwise.

In some ways, she was actually looking forward to it.

But of course that was only because she was as eager as he to discover the identity of the person behind that truly bizarre evening and the reason for that person’s antipathy toward her. Only when she learned the truth about that incident could she hope to move beyond it and perhaps find some sort of fulfillment in being an aunt to her brothers’ and sisters’ children.

After all, considering that she intended never to marry, she would never have children of her own.

Which was not a thought that brought her much peace of mind.

* * * * *

By three thirty the following afternoon, any peace of mind Eliza might have hoped to attain had been completely dissipated by her mother’s raptures about the Marquess of Chamberly.

The countess, who had returned from the country two weeks earlier, had interrupted her afternoon’s plans in order to oversee Eliza’s preparations for her drive in the park. “My dearest Eliza,” the countess said, “I’m not sure how you attracted the attention of the Marquess of Chamberly, but I suspect all of this Season’s debutantes will be green with envy. He’s considered quite a catch.”

Eliza suppressed a sigh. Agatha, who was attempting to dress her hair, had been pleading with her to sit still while she completed the elaborate style. “I’m not sure why you’re so happy, Mother. There have been rumors that he’s a pleasure-seeker of the highest order, which would explain why he spent the last three years out of the country.”

“Nonsense.” With a single clap of her hands, the countess squelched that rumor. “I have it on excellent authority that he and his friends were working in tandem to seek out and neutralize enemies of our dear England.”

“Friends?” Eliza’s voice shook. She couldn’t help it. The word called up images of the men who had attended that hideous dinner and had spent so much time spreading honey on her breasts and then sucking it off. She knew them only by their first names, but if they were Chamberly’s friends, they might well rank high enough in society that she would be introduced to them at some future function.

She’d sooner die than have to interact with them in a social setting.

All the more reason to retire to one of her family’s country estates and never return to London again.

“Eliza?”

She realized her mother was speaking to her. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. I fear I was woolgathering. What did you say?”

“Merely that you look lovely and that it’s time to go downstairs. I heard the footman admitting someone, and I assume it’s the marquess. He won’t want to leave his horses standing too long so let’s not keep him waiting.”

Eliza paused to allow Agatha to position a bonnet on her head. “Speaking of footmen, have we ever discovered why that fellow named Mayhew disappeared so suddenly?”

Her mother shot her a puzzled look. “I don’t think anyone’s bothered to investigate his disappearance, my dear. In fact, I never saw him. He was hired and then disappeared while your father and I were in Surrey waiting for Nancy’s baby to be born. Why do you even care about the fellow?”

Eliza forced a smile. “He just happened to come to my mind.” She shrugged. “I’m ready for my drive with the marquess.”

“Excellent.” Her mother’s smile was so hopeful that Eliza felt her stomach sink. Her mother was in for a severe disappointment if she envisioned Eliza actually attracting and marrying the Marquess of Chamberly.

No matter how handsome, how brave, and how eligible he might be, Chamberly would be the very last man Eliza would marry, if she were ever going to marry at all, which she was not.

* * * * *

The man could be charming, Eliza would have to concede that. He soon had her mother gazing at him as though he were at least as important as Wellington or even the Prince of Wales.

Eliza herself had felt her knees go weak for a few seconds when he bowed to her. He was dressed in the height of fashion, and it was simple enough to judge that his tailor had no need to add padding to his shoulders to emphasize their width.

His smile when he addressed Eliza was appropriate, not too familiar but still imbued with admiration. “How lovely you look this afternoon, Lady Eliza. I’m honored that you’ve agreed to join me for a drive in the park.”

The countess affected a stern expression. “Your groom will accompany you, I assume, my lord.”

“He’s walking the horses as we speak, my lady.”

The smile that had been lurking around her lips returned. “Excellent. Then you young people should be on your way. Good day, Lord Chamberly.”

He bowed. “Good afternoon, my lady. I’ll return your daughter safely.”

Eliza had barely stepped outside the front door when she regretted having agreed to accompany the marquess. His groom had just returned from walking the horses, a matched pair of grays, and now stood at their head, waiting for his master to help Eliza into the curricle.

She’d not realized until that moment that she’d be forced to accept Chamberly’s assistance into his sporty carriage or that once seated beside him, she’d occasionally feel the heat of his arm or even of his thigh as his curricle bumped along the uneven streets.

Fortunately, her glove would prevent her having to touch his bare skin. After what she’d endured that horrible evening in his house, she wasn’t sure she could tolerate that without succumbing to a fit of vapors.

When he stepped to her side and held out his hand, she could feel his gaze on her face. Was he aware that she was uncommonly pale and that the hands she had fisted at her sides trembled? She stared at the cobblestones beneath her feet because she couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes. Was he remembering the way she’d held herself open to him, the way her private parts had grown wet and then quivered and finally, how she’d shot her hips upward, desperately seeking the release that his finger play had left her craving?

“Lady Eliza?” His voice was soft and seemed to contain a note of understanding.

She gathered her courage and forced herself to look at him.

He continued to hold out his hand, waiting for her to place her hand in his so he could help her into the carriage. He nodded once, as though to reassure her, and she finally set her teeth, raised her arm, and laid her fingers against his palm.

He grasped her hand gently, almost as though he understood that any sign of force would be too much for her fragile nerves. Strangely, though, as his fingers wrapped around her hand, she found herself feeling comforted by his touch, which was the opposite of what she had expected.

Even more strangely, the fact that she almost liked his touch resulted in her feeling anger rather than fear. She settled into the seat, squared her shoulders and stared straight ahead as Chamberly vaulted into the seat beside her.

The groom jumped onto his perch at the back of the curricle, then Chamberly lifted the reins and set the horses in motion.

They rode in silence for a few minutes while Chamberly maneuvered his horses through the crowded streets. When he finally turned into the park, the traffic thinned and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Eliza had no idea what he might be thinking, but she had been wondering for the last fifteen minutes how they could ever talk above the clomping of the horses’ hooves, the jingle of the harness, and the creaking of the curricle seat.

Besides, there was the groom on his perch behind them. Eliza had no wish for him to overhear any conversation about their hopes of locating the person responsible for the events of that hideous evening.

She turned toward Chamberly. “I don’t understand your desire for this outing. We can’t very well discuss our common problem under these circumstances.”

His smile was understanding. “You needn’t worry about the groom. He’s deaf as a fencepost when he’s with me. But I agree. We can’t really talk here.”

As though to prove them both right, a gentleman driving a high perch phaeton approached from the opposite direction and pulled his horses to a halt. “Greetings, Chamberly,” the fellow called in jovial tones. “Haven’t seen you in a donkey’s age. How have you been?”

Eliza watched a muscle twitch in Chamberly’s jaw before he pulled his horses up and forced a smile. “Good to see you, Messer. Are you acquainted with Lady Eliza Warren?”

Eliza nodded once toward the gentleman. “We were introduced at Lady Croston’s Venetian breakfast, I believe, Mr. Messer.”

“I’m flattered that a diamond of the first water such as yourself would recall meeting an inauspicious fellow such as I,” Messer said, then chortled. “I could have sworn you were too surrounded by your aristocratic admirers to pay attention to a mere Mister like me.”

Eliza felt Chamberly stiffen and watched his fingers tighten on the reins until his knuckles turned white. She hoped he wasn’t becoming suspicious of Mr. Messer. She’d recognized at their first meeting that he was a bit of a dunce, and she would bet all of her pin money that there wasn’t a dangerous bone in his body.

She forced her smile to widen. “You give yourself too little credit, Mr. Messer. Besides, I believe you were a schoolmate of my youngest brother, Henry.”

“Yes, indeed,” Mr. Messer said. “In fact, I recall one occasion when—”

Chamberly interrupted him. “You’ll forgive me, Messer, but my horses grow restless and I believe we’re holding up traffic.” With that, he nodded once and flicked the reins to set his pair in motion.

“How well do you know him?” Chamberly demanded with lowered brows.

“Well enough not to fear him,” Eliza replied shortly. “The park is growing more crowded by the minute, which means we’ll have even less opportunity to visit. This outing is a waste of time.”

“Not at all,” Chamberly responded. “We need to be seen by members of the ton, and that’s exactly what our excursion this afternoon is designed to do.”

A chill ran down Eliza’s back. “Why,” she asked, staring at him with as much hauteur as she could manage, “would you want us to be seen together?”

“That’s simple enough. So people won’t be taken unaware when our engagement is announced. If we’ve become accepted as a couple, there’ll be less likelihood of people gossiping about a hurried betrothal.”

Eliza drew in a deep breath and fought back the hint of darkness that had developed behind her eyes. Fainting in Chamberly’s curricle in the middle of the park was hardly an action that would protect her from gossip.

Not that she cared for herself. After all, as soon as the Season ended, she intended to retire to the country and never return to London again. However, she didn’t want her actions to reflect badly on her parents or her siblings.

She grasped the side of the seat and swallowed the fear that threatened her composure. After all, she had nothing to fear from Chamberly. At least, she didn’t think she had reason to fear him. Obviously he felt obligated to offer for her because of what had happened between them. She’d just tell him that she held him blameless and no doubt he’d object for the sake of his pride, but after pretending not to be relieved, he’d go on with his life.

He spoke before she could frame her next sentence. “You’re very quiet suddenly. Did you not think I’d offer for you?”

Irritation replaced her fear and strengthened her voice. “Of course I didn’t expect you to offer for me. You were as much a victim that night as I was.”

“Not quite,” he said with thinned lips. “No, not even close.” And for a split second when he looked down and captured her gaze, she felt another twinge of fear. The expression in his eyes was fierce, but she quickly realized it was not directed toward her.

“Be that as it may, I won’t accept your offer so you might as well save your breath.”

He transferred his gaze to the path ahead of them. “We still need to talk. I will call on you tomorrow morning in hopes that you will offer to show me the garden. That way we can have a few minutes of privacy.”

Eliza was glad he hadn’t pursued the topic of offering for her hand. In fact, she was thrilled that he’d accepted her rejection so readily. At least she should be thrilled. Surely there was no underlying hint of disappointment curled up in the pit of her stomach. Since she never wanted to experience the touch of a man again, she could only be happy that she wouldn’t have to continue to reject him.

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow morning around ten o’clock, and I’m sure my mother will allow us to step out into the garden alone. Hopefully that will give us enough time to conclude our conversation about what happened, and then we can go our separate ways.”

He merely nodded before pulling up beside a barouche in which his Aunt Bernice rode. The countess’s gaze flickered from Chamberly’s face to Eliza’s and then back to Chamberly’s again. A knowing smile brightened her face, and Eliza realized that whether Chamberly truly wished it or not, his aunt would be talking about them to her friends, who in turn would spread the rumor that the Marquess of Chamberly was courting Lady Eliza Warren.

None of which would have any bearing on Eliza’s intentions of remaining a spinster for the rest of her life.

Chapter Five

Eliza awoke early the next morning, just as the first signs of dawn appeared outside her bedroom window. A pleasant sense of anticipation brought a smile to her lips, even as her mind scrambled, trying to recall what event she could be looking forward to.

Then she remembered and her smile quickly faded. Chamberly would be calling on her this morning.

She sighed and snuggled back under the covers, wishing she could pull them over her head and pretend she’d disappeared from view, just as Abby sometimes did. But reality couldn’t be avoided, so she might as well spend her time trying to decide what she would say to Chamberly when he called later that morning.

She hoped he wouldn’t continue his campaign to bring about their marriage, but if he did, she must simply tell him that she did not wish to marry. Period. Not him. Not anyone. Ever. Then he would go away, she would retire to the country, and that would be the last she would see of him.

She should be happy.

Why wasn’t she happy?

Sometimes she simply didn’t understand herself.

She gave herself a mental shake. Happiness wasn’t her goal anyway. Her goal was simply to remain single, and that should be easy enough to achieve. She merely had to decline any marriage proposals she might receive. Including Chamberly’s.

Especially including Chamberly’s.

Unfortunately, the thought of marriage with Chamberly had set her pulse to racing in a way that not only upset her but also frightened her. Unable to continue lying peacefully in bed, she flung back the covers, got up, and rang for Agatha. She might as well get dressed and be prepared to greet the marquess when he arrived. Then she could send him on his way as soon as possible.

By nine thirty that morning, Eliza had driven poor Agatha half mad by her insistence on changing morning dresses three times and on having her hair dressed twice. Nothing seemed quite appropriate for turning down a man’s proposal, so she finally settled for a pale yellow gown on the theory that it seemed neither too frivolous nor too somber. She was still unhappy with her hairstyle, which was far too elaborate in her opinion, but when she saw tears gathering in Agatha’s eyes, she decided to settle for what the maid declared was her very best work.

Eliza then took herself off to the drawing room where she first picked up a book and settled in a chair to read. She quickly realized she couldn’t concentrate so she swapped the book for her embroidery. When that, too, proved beyond her abilities, she simply folded her hands in her lap and waited.

Her mother joined her shortly before ten o’clock. Eliza had, of course, felt obligated to inform her that Chamberly planned to visit that morning, and if the sudden gleam in her mother’s eyes was any indication, Chamberly would be welcomed with enthusiasm by at least one member of the family. Eliza prayed that her mother wouldn’t get her hopes up for a betrothal in the near future.

Chamberly called promptly at ten and was immediately shown into the drawing room. Eliza felt relatively sure that he too had paid special attention to his appearance. His dark blue coat hugged his broad shoulders. His shirt was sparkling white, and his cravat was tied in the challenging Mathematical, a style that her brothers had long admired but had always failed to achieve. For some reason, Eliza had no doubt that Chamberly rather than his valet had conquered that particular method.

His gaze immediately sought out Eliza, who sat quietly in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. Despite her determination to remain aloof, the second she looked into Chamberly’s eyes, her heart fluttered and then sped up in a manner that suggested either fear or another emotion Eliza preferred not to acknowledge. She reminded herself that attraction was the very last thing she should be feeling.

Fortunately for Eliza’s peace of mind, her mother stood and greeted Chamberly. She was not pleased that her mother did so with a degree of fondness that seemed too advanced for the short time they’d been acquainted. However, her mother offered a reasonable excuse for the familiarity when she mentioned that she’d known both of Chamberly’s parents before their unfortunate demise as a result of a carriage accident seven years earlier.

Eliza, in the meantime, moistened her lips and forced a smile that she hoped was welcoming enough to satisfy her mother. Since she planned to suggest to Chamberly that they take a turn in the garden, she didn’t want to give her mother cause to feel she must chaperone them.

After greeting her mother, Chamberly turned to Eliza and bowed. “Good morning, Lady Eliza. I hope I find you well today.”

Eliza inclined her head. “Quite well, thank you, my lord. And you?”

“I’ve been enjoying the unusual warmth of the morning. Have you been outside yet?”

Eliza recognized her cue. “I have not. Perhaps I should take a turn in the garden. Would you care to join me?”

Chamberly turned to the countess. “With your permission, my lady?”

Eliza’s mother waved a hand of dismissal. “By all means. I won’t offer to join you because I’ve chores to attend to this morning, but take your time and enjoy the beauty of the early spring flowers.”

Eliza stood, and when Chamberly walked to her side and offered his arm, she pretended not to notice. “This way, my lord,” she murmured before leading the way down the stairs and to the door leading out to the gardens.

This was the first time she’d exited the house through this particular door since the night she’d met Nate there and allowed him to lead her through the streets of London to the home of the man who now stepped through the door with her.

A chill swept up her spine, but she forced herself to move into the garden and onto a path that led around the side of the house where they’d have more privacy.

Chamberly silently followed her lead until they arrived at a bench situated beside the path. It was half hidden from the house by a hedge, and Chamberly grasped Eliza’s hand and tugged her to a stop.

“Let’s sit here where we can talk,” he said before pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and brushing away a few leaves that had settled on the stone surface.

Eliza saw no sense in objecting. The sooner she could get this conversation behind her, the sooner she could banish Chamberly from her life. The minute he finished cleaning the bench, she murmured her thanks and seated herself.

Chamberly sat beside her, a little too close for Eliza’s comfort. His leg was not touching hers, but she could feel the heat emanating from it. That, combined with his unique fragrance, which she could recall from that night in his house, sent tendrils of need spreading from her belly downward, and she felt an ache building between her legs. Horrified that her body could react in such a way, she scooted a few inches farther away from him.

She spoke hurriedly, needing to bring this meeting to a close as soon as possible. “There’s not much more I can tell you about that night, I’m afraid. I told you everything I could remember at your aunt’s house the night of her ball.”

He glanced down at the space on the bench she’d created between them but didn’t make any effort to move closer. “I’m not asking you to try to recall more details. I have a good grasp of what happened that evening. But I need to tell you some things about me. You, as my future wife, have a right to know what kind of man I am.”

Eliza opened her mouth to object to his referring to her as his future wife but quickly decided to keep that to herself at the moment. She was, after all, curious about him, even though she hoped never to see him again. “What kind of man you are?” she prompted.

“If you haven’t already heard the rumors, you will. There are those who believe that my six closest friends and I are members of a club called The Riotous Revelers and that we spent the last few years at one of my remote estates indulging in activities unfit for a young lady’s ears. Actually, the club never existed, and although we did meet a couple of times at my estate, most of our time was spent in countries outside England seeking knowledge that would benefit the war effort.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Even now I can’t talk about what we did. It wasn’t pleasant and it wasn’t romantic. Much of the time it was miserable or boring, but it was necessary. The few times I came back to England, it was to make sure my younger brother was doing well. Fortunately, David had settled down and was leading the life that was expected of me as the heir. He married and had three sons to ensure the succession before little Charlotte was born.”

“Charlotte? Was she the child they abducted in order to force you to do what you did?”

He nodded. “Yes, and I’m sorry—”

Eliza interrupted him. “Tell me this. Garett and Jerome, were they among the six friends you mentioned?”

“They were, and they’ve asked me to extend their deepest apologies for what happened that evening. Although none of us was participating of our own free will, they would have behaved less enthusiastically had they known you were not a prostitute in training.”

Blood rushed to Eliza’s face. “So they know my true identity now?”

“Yes, but you need not worry. They would no more betray you by talking about that night than they would betray their country.”

Although she was not particularly comforted by his assurances, Eliza decided not to pursue the topic. Instead she changed the subject. “I think your niece, Charlotte, and Abby were kept somewhere together. Abby talked about playing with a little girl.”

His eyes widened and then darkened. “That’s good to know. We’ll keep that in mind as we continue our investigations.”

“We?” Eliza stared into his eyes. She didn’t think he would outright lie to her, but she suspected he would try to protect her from knowledge that might upset her, and she needed to know the entire truth. “Who do you mean when you say we?”

“Garett and Jerome and I are investigating. Each of us has our particular talents, and those talents are not insignificant. We’ll eventually find out who is behind all of this. In the meantime, you and I need to marry as soon as we can do so without causing undue gossip.”

Eliza squared her shoulders. “I appreciate your proposal, my lord, but I must decline.”

“Don’t be a ninny, Eliza. I’m not asking just to placate my conscience. Marriage is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“I assure you, I’m quite capable of keeping myself safe. Abby is in the country where she’s surrounded by a flock of doting servants, and I will be joining her soon. I never intend to return to London.”

“Until we determine the identity of our mutual enemy, neither you nor I nor any of our family members are really safe.”

“Nevertheless, my lord, I must decline. I will not marry you.”

He blew his breath out in a long sigh, then lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “I haven’t told you the latest news. Jerome located Nate last night.”

Eliza inhaled swiftly. “Nate? The man who— But of course that’s who you’re talking about. Did he tell Jerome who he was working for?”

“Unfortunately, no. Jerome found Nate floating in the Thames facedown with his throat cut.”

Eliza gasped with horror while her hands flew to her own throat and settled there as though to protect herself from a similar fate.

Chamberly regarded her with a decided lack of sympathy. “Whoever our enemy is, Eliza, I doubt he’ll be willing to stop the next time with your simple sexual humiliation. Unless you are willing to risk being forced into a house of ill repute or sold abroad as a white slave or even held as a sex slave to whomever wanted you to suffer at my hands, I suggest you stop being so stubborn and agree to marry me. I protect my own and I’ll make damn sure nothing like that ever happens to you again.”

“Oh, really?” Eliza jumped to her feet and stared down at him. “And I suppose as my husband you would never expect to touch me, to do all of those things to me that you did that night and then even more? Well, I won’t have it. I’ll give no man the right to use my body like that, to make me do things that I don’t want to do. For that reason, I’ve determined never to marry. Not you. Not anyone. Ever!”

She had the satisfaction of watching his eyes widen and his face pale before he spoke again. Then he barely breathed the words. “Well, damn. I didn’t realize. I never thought that you might feel this way.”

She folded her arms under her breasts and continued to stare down at him. “I hardly think, my lord, that you would be willing to settle for a marriage in name only. Thus, I suggest you disabuse yourself of the notion that you are responsible for my welfare and leave me alone. I’ll be leaving London soon, and I’m sure I’ll be safe at my father’s country estate.”

Chamberly pulled in a deep breath, then stood to face Eliza. “I agree to your terms,” he said solemnly.

“What?” Her mouth dropped open but she quickly closed it. “What do you mean?”

He squared his shoulders. “I agree to a marriage in name only. I’ll never touch you without your express invitation. I won’t kiss you breathless unless you ask me to do so. I won’t caress your breasts or run my hands down over your belly. I won’t play with your pussy until you grow wet and ready and beg me to use my fingers to make you come. And I certainly won’t claim my husbandly rights. I won’t do anything at all unless you ask. It will be your choice, my dear Eliza, and if you choose nothing, then that’s exactly what will be between us physically—nothing.”

Eliza knew she should feel insulted by his plain speech. Instead, she found herself becoming aroused, which irritated her. “You’re telling me that if we married, even though you would have the right to do those things to me, you would refrain? Surely you are not serious.”

“Ah, but I am. And I promise you this, too. I won’t hold your choices against you. I won’t be angry or resentful if you choose never to allow any physical intimacies between us. I understand why you feel the way you do, so I will respect you and treat you with all the kindness of which I’m capable.”

At a loss for words, she dropped back onto the bench and stared out into the garden. With spring still just around the corner, the garden was nowhere near as pretty as it would be when the plants were more mature. Strangely, Eliza found herself comparing her future to the plants that had been dormant all winter. If she didn’t marry, she wouldn’t die, but she would certainly not enjoy the usual experiences of womanhood. Her life would never blossom, never reach its full potential.

More importantly, she might never see Chamberly again. Why that thought distressed her so much, she had no idea. She only knew that if she didn’t agree to marry him, she would very likely regret her decision for the rest of her life.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Very well. I’ll marry you, but I’ll hold you to the restrictions you placed on yourself.”

He nodded solemnly. “You’ve made a wise choice, Eliza. I’ll call on your father right away and we’ll arrange the wedding as soon as possible.”

“We can’t rush it too much or there’ll be gossip that could cause problems for my entire family.”

“I’m aware of that, and I’ve given it some thought. We need to put it about that we’ve known each other for years, but our story must have some substance. Have you ever spent time with your sister who lives in Sussex?”

“Martha? Yes. As a matter of fact, I spent the entire summer with her and her husband at their estate three years ago when there was a great deal of sickness near my father’s country seat. He and my mother sent Abby and me to stay at Martha’s until the illnesses died down.”

A grin brightened his face. “I couldn’t ask for anything better. Jerome is a near neighbor to your sister and even though we were out of the country that summer, he’ll be willing to swear that we paid a visit to his estate. You and I will have to confess that we met somehow, perhaps while taking solitary walks, and that we were beginning to develop fond feelings for each other when I was called away. We said our farewells, not certain we’d ever meet again, but when we saw each other at my aunt’s ball, we instantly knew that our feelings had matured and grown during our time apart. Now, we wish to begin our married life as soon as possible.”

“I suppose that will work,” Eliza said after giving his suggestion a minute’s thought. “Very well. I agree.”

“Good. Now I’d best return you to your mother so I can visit with your father.” He held out his arm and Eliza placed her hand on it. She could feel his body heat through the fabric of his coat, and despite all her efforts to ignore his closeness, her breathing grew more shallow and her head felt light.

She realized that such casual encounters couldn’t be avoided, especially after they were married, so she was going to have to figure out some way to keep from reacting to him. Surely just bringing to mind the events of that horrible evening would serve to strengthen her resolve never to let a man touch her body in that way again.

In fact, her brief recollection of the humiliations of that encounter unsettled her so much that she gasped and jerked her hand away from Chamberly’s arm as quickly as if it had suddenly burst into flames. She paused and pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, staring at the path beneath her feet before forcing herself to look up and meet his gaze.

He paused beside her and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry too, Eliza. What was done to you was unforgivable, but if it is of any consolation to you, I intend to find those responsible and make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Let’s go inside now. You’ll want to catch my father before he leaves for his day’s activities.”

And they walked side by side back to the house, being especially careful not to touch each other.

Chapter Six

London, mid-May, 1816

Eliza had been the Marchioness of Chamberly for two weeks before her head stopped spinning from the speed with which her life had changed. She now realized that her husband would be extremely competent in any task he undertook, whether that be spying for his country or rushing her into marriage with him.

In the first hours after she agreed to marry him, he had met with her father and received his blessing and had then convinced her mother that a late-April wedding in the chapel at their country estate would be acceptable.

That accomplished, he’d set about spreading word of their betrothal to everyone who was in the top tier of society in London. Within a day, talk was swirling about the romanticism of their having met three years previously and how they had been unexpectedly reunited at his aunt’s ball.

Invitations had poured in for both of them, and Chamberly had called every day to take Eliza driving or to escort her to Hatchard’s bookstore or merely to visit with her in the mornings so they could make plans for their evening entertainment.

He had been unfailingly polite, thoughtful, and considerate while also maintaining such a distinct physical distance that Eliza had been constantly reminded that their relationship was based on an event that had turned both of them into victims and that the motives behind it were still unexplained.

One of Chamberly’s first actions after their engagement had been to arrange a meeting in which she could be formally introduced to Garett and Jerome. Although she had dreaded seeing them again, she’d understood the necessity. After all, as Chamberly had pointed out, initially Garett and Jerome had been just as deceived about Eliza as he had, and they were just as eager to find the instigator of that debacle and ensure that she did not fall into his clutches again. Thus, when Chamberly couldn’t be with Eliza in public, one of the other men would. Fortunately, they’d treated her just as she’d come to expect from her older brothers, and she soon felt quite at ease with them.

And so the days had flown by from that moment in the garden when Eliza had agreed to marry Chamberly until this evening when she sat at the dressing table in the bedchamber of her new home and watched Agatha prepare her hair for Chamberly’s and her appearance at one of the final balls of the season to be held later that evening.

“You’re going to look more beautiful than ever, my lady,” Agatha exclaimed as she positioned a diamond clip in Eliza’s hair. “All of his lordship’s servants are talking about how much his lordship must love you, seeing as how he’s giving you all this jewelry and even bought a new house for you to move into as the new marchioness.”

Eliza merely smiled. Although Chamberly had not said so, she felt certain he’d made the effort to get rid of his old house and buy a new one in Grosvenor Square so she wouldn’t have to return to the scene of her sexual humiliation. In fact, she’d raised the subject when he brought her here for the first time, but he’d declared he merely wanted a more fashionable address.

A slight tap sounded on the door, then Chamberly stuck his head into Eliza’s chamber. “Am I too early?” he asked.

Eliza’s heart sped up just a bit, the way it always did these days when Chamberly was near. She caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. “Come in. Agatha is putting the finishing touches on my hair.”

“And doing a wonderful job, as always.” Chamberly walked into the room and paused beside Eliza, who still sat facing the mirror.

Eliza shifted her gaze from her husband’s reflection to that of her maid and realized Agatha’s face was flushed with pleasure. Chamberly had managed to charm all her family’s servants very quickly. She had to admit he had gone a long way toward charming her too.

But how much of his charm was practiced rather than real? After all, his reason for marrying her was unconventional, to say the least.

She got to her feet, turned to face her husband, and forced a smile. “Thank you. And I must say that you’re looking quite handsome tonight. I don’t believe I’ve seen that jacket before.”

Chamberly nodded his thanks before offering his arm. “If you’re quite ready, my dear, the coach is waiting.”

Eliza took his arm and felt herself relaxing somewhat. She’d grown accustomed to touching Chamberly’s arm and she was learning to like having him grasp her hand, all in the most casual and necessary of ways, of course.

She hoped there would be waltzing at the ball tonight. She always saved her waltzes for Chamberly. At first her reason related to her fears of having another man touch her so intimately, but more recently, she saved her waltzes for him because she enjoyed having him hold her and guide her across the dance floor.

There might come a time, she admitted, when she would welcome his embraces in the privacy of their chamber, but she now realized he had meant what he said the day he proposed. Any intimacies would be at her instigation and she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the courage to initiate any physical contact with him.

A small sigh escaped her as they trod down the stairs.

Chamberly glanced at her. “Is something amiss?”

“Not at all.” Eliza turned her thoughts to the evening ahead and smiled. “In fact, I’m quite looking forward to this evening.”

“The Season will be over soon and we’ll be retiring to my country estate. Will you miss the social whirl?”

“Not a bit. In fact, I’m looking forward to being back in the country again.”

“Excellent.” He shot her a smile that had her knees growing weak. He undoubtedly was one of the most charming men she’d ever met, but she cautioned herself that she’d best be careful and not fall in love with him. Despite the courtesy with which he treated her, she knew he’d married her only because of what he’d done to her that evening. He would have felt honor-bound to propose.

But now that they were husband and wife, did she not owe it to him to give him access to her body? Sometimes she regretted the bargain they’d struck and wondered what it would have been like to marry under normal circumstances. Of course that question could never be adequately answered.

But now they had reached the bottom of the stairs and the butler stood there, all solemn and formal, to announce that the coach awaited them, and the footman rushed to open the door. Soon she was being handed into the coach, with Chamberly climbing in to sit across from her, and their ride to the ball was passed in making casual conversation.

The Duchess of Griffith’s ball was nearing an end when it happened. Eliza and Chamberly had just shared the last waltz of the evening and were chatting with their hostess before saying their farewells when something drew Eliza’s attention to a woman across the room. The female was glaring at Eliza with such heat in her gaze that Eliza unconsciously took a half step back.

Chamberly, who seemed always aware of her moods, glanced at her with concern, then followed her gaze across the room. “Who’s that woman?” he asked immediately.

The duchess obviously thought he was talking to her. “What woman, my dear Chamberly?”

“The female in the puce gown across the way. Ah, she’s seen us looking and is turning away.”

The duchess frowned. “She doesn’t look familiar, which is strange. I may invite a goodly number of people to my balls, but I never invite people I don’t know.” She turned to Eliza. “Do you recognize her, my dear?”

“I thought I did, when I first saw her, but now I’m not sure.”

“Who did you think she was?” Chamberly asked in a tone that sent chills racing down Eliza’s back.

“She resembles Blanche Lawton, who made her come-out two years ago with me. But I haven’t seen her in London this Season.”

The duchess snorted. “And for good reason. From what I heard, Miss Lawton made such a ninny out of herself when young Underhill offered for you instead of her, she became a laughingstock and had to flee London.”

Chamberly’s eyes narrowed just before he looked toward Eliza with a too-bright smile. “I wasn’t aware Underhill offered for you.”

Eliza shrugged. “He fancied himself in love with me, although I suspect he was more enamored of my dowry than me. I didn’t return his regard, and Papa would not allow him to address me. From what I was told, Miss Lawton had expected him to offer for her, and when Papa refused him on my behalf, he instead proposed to Marie Carson and they were married at Christmas. I can’t imagine that Miss Lawton holds me to blame for her single state.”

The duchess frowned. “I doubt that female actually was Miss Lawton because I certainly didn’t invite her. Of course someone could have brought her as a guest, but even that seems farfetched. I had been told that she had fled to the country in disgrace for having created such a fuss about Underhill not offering for her. Perhaps the young lady we saw merely favors Miss Lawton in appearance.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Eliza murmured before changing the subject.

She and Chamberly soon said their farewells and had started toward the door when Eliza glanced back over her shoulder. The woman in puce was again staring, and at her side, with his back half turned toward Eliza, stood a tall, thin man. Something about him frightened Eliza to such a degree that she clutched tightly to Chamberly’s arm. The man’s name screamed in her mind: Cockington.

Then the man turned toward the dance floor and she could see him full in the face. She realized she’d been mistaken. There was a resemblance, certainly, but this man definitely was not the man who’d forced her to call him Mr. Cockington.

What was wrong with her tonight, thinking she saw people who were not there? Perhaps she was more tired than she realized. Still she clung to her husband’s arm.

Chamberly placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“I’m fine,” Eliza murmured. “Just being jostled by the crowd.” She forced herself to lighten her grasp on her husband’s arm and smiled up at him as they made their way outside and into the coach. Neither of them had much to say on the ride back home.

The nightmares began that night.

Eliza had allowed Agatha to help her get ready for bed, as she did every night. After Agatha left her, Chamberly tapped on their connecting door and then stuck his head inside to wish her a good night and remind her to leave an impression on both pillows so the servants would assume that marital visits were taking place. He also wished her happy dreams before closing the connecting door again.

The first time he’d stuck his head inside her bedchamber, she’d been so startled that she’d had to stifle a scream. Then she’d felt foolish for being so skittish, and for the next few evenings, she merely blushed when he made his brief appearance. Soon she’d grown accustomed to his saying good night and missed him if he stayed out with his friends.

Tonight, if he hadn’t been home to wish her sweet dreams, she wasn’t sure she could have gone to sleep at all. As it was, she lay awake for at least an hour, trying to decide what had made her think that man was Mr. Cockington and wondering if she’d be haunted by him for the rest of her life.

Those thoughts, she decided later, were likely what had caused her dreams to be haunted by the specters of both Cockington and Blanche Lawton. She dreamt she was back at the Duchess of Griffith’s ball, except the duchess had changed into Blanche Lawton, who then changed into Mr. Cockington who asked her to waltz with him. Although the thoughts of being held in his arms terrified her, the dreaming Eliza had accepted without protest. He led her to the center of the room, while other couples stepped back and turned to watch them. Only when the music began and Mr. Cockington began twirling her around the room did Eliza realize she was completely naked and that everyone was watching and pointing toward her.

Desperate to escape, Eliza lunged to escape Cockington’s grasp and turned to run. Except now she was no longer in the ballroom. Instead, she was running naked through a dark and murky back alley trying to escape Cockington when Nate, with his slashed throat seeming to mimic his leering grin, jumped from the shadows and grabbed her. His hold on her was inescapable, so she was forced to watch as Mr. Cockington approached from the other end of the alley. He paused in front of her, then narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t obey,” he said. “You didn’t say ‘I understand Mr. Cockington’ so you must be punished.”

He’d grabbed her breasts and pinched, then twisted, so that the pain was nearly unbearable, but Eliza had held back her moans until a knife appeared in his right hand. When he grasped her right nipple and started toward it with the knife, Eliza screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

She awoke with Chamberly on his knees beside her in the bed. He had grasped her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. “Hush now, my dear. Hush. I’m here. You’re safe.”

“Oh, God. Oh my God.” Her heart thundered in her chest, pumping so fast she could feel it beating hard beneath her breast. “He had a knife. He was going to hurt me.”

She wrapped her arms around Chamberly, who eased her back and lay down beside her, pulling her close to his chest.

“You’re safe, Eliza,” he murmured over and over. “You’re safe. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

When her heart finally slowed, Eliza relaxed in his arms, rested her head on his shoulder, and told him everything that had happened leading up to her nightmare.

Chamberly continued to hold her. “You’re certain it wasn’t Cockington you saw in the Duchess of Griffith’s ballroom?”

“Positive. There was a resemblance, but that’s all.”

“Very well. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

He’d pulled the covers up over them, and she was warm and relaxed. “I suppose so, but…” She wasn’t ready for him to leave, but she didn’t know how to ask him to stay.

He shifted his shoulder a bit and she lifted her head and turned to look into his eyes. “I was wondering if you would kiss me.”

“Kiss you?” He sounded surprised.

“When you kissed me before…that was nice. Not at first, of course, but after a little while, it was nice. Would you do that again?”

His voice appeared to thicken. “It’s got to be your choice, you know. This is what you want?”

“A kiss. Just a kiss. If you don’t mind.”

“Just a kiss,” he repeated, then lowered his head and touched her lightly on the lips before pulling back a little. “How much of a kiss?”

“More,” she murmured. “Remember what you did before, with your tongue? I liked that. If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, a smile in his voice.

And then he kissed her.

There were similarities to what she remembered from that evening. He was still gentle, and his lips were still soft, and his taste was still unique.

But tonight was so much more. For one thing, she wasn’t afraid. She knew now that he would never hurt her or force her to do something she didn’t want to do.

And she knew enough not to be startled when his tongue began teasing her lips, and then gently eased between them. While his tongue explored the contours of her mouth, a moan rose in her throat. When it escaped, he withdrew.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he murmured. His voice sounded as though he was speaking through clenched teeth. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

She missed the feelings he’d been eliciting within her, but she knew enough about men, thanks to overhearing her older brothers’ conversations, to understand that too much physical contact might cause him discomfort. “Yes, I think I can sleep now.”

“In that case, I’ll leave you to your rest, but I won’t close the adjoining door. If you need me, just call.”

He gave her another quick kiss on the lips before pushing himself out of bed and walking to his bedchamber door. “Good night,” he called softly.

“Good night,” she responded. She turned onto her side and stared at the adjoining door, which stood ajar for the first time since they’d married. She could hear him moving around for a short time before the creaking of the bed told her he’d laid back down. Some time passed before his soft snores indicated he’d gone to sleep, and still she lay staring at the door, wondering what kind of marriage they would end up having.

Obviously it was going to be up to her to make that choice.

Chapter Seven

Early the following morning, Chamberly peeked into his wife’s chamber, saw that she was sleeping soundly, and quietly closed the adjoining door. Then, even before allowing his valet to help him dress, he sent footmen around to Jerome’s and Garett’s lodgings with a firm invitation to join him at his club in an hour’s time.

By ten thirty, the three of them had polished off a hearty breakfast of sirloin and eggs at a private table in Chamberly’s club. Although the waiter had cleared away their dishes, Jerome still nursed a cup of coffee. “Dammit, I’m not used to getting up so early,” he said, then yawned widely as though to prove the truth of his statement. “What’s to do, Chamberly?”

“I may have a clue.”

Garett’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s good news. I feel like I’ve been chasing my tail for the last few weeks.”

Chamberly nodded. “For good reason. I think we’ve been running around in circles looking for that one person who hated both Eliza and me. But now I have reason to believe two people were involved. One wanted revenge on Eliza and the other on me.”

“Ah, that would explain a great deal,” Jerome said. “Who are the two?”

Chamberly quickly filled them in on the happenings at the Duchess of Griffith’s ball the previous evening.

Jerome’s forehead wrinkled. “So you think this Blanche Lawton had a hand in what happened?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out. What interests me most, however, is Eliza’s reaction to the man who appeared to be Miss Lawton’s companion. Although Eliza is positive he was not Cockington, something about the man affected her to such an extent that she had nightmares about him last night.”

Garett rubbed his chin. “It shouldn’t be a problem to learn the identity of Miss Lawton’s escort. I’ll make some discreet inquiries.”

“If you find out, let me know as soon as possible. I’ve always thought Cockington reminded me of someone, and I’ve racked my brain trying to figure out whom, but with no luck.”

“I’ll begin investigating this morning.” Garett got to his feet. “Will you be at home later today?”

“I will, yes. In fact, I’ve been putting off making some business decisions, so I plan to spend the afternoon in the library going over requests from some of my tenants. If you have any information to share with me, feel free to stop by.”

Thirty minutes later, Chamberly climbed the steps leading to the front door of his new residence in Grosvernor Square. He liked the place well enough, and he’d been truthful when he told Eliza he’d wanted a house in a more fashionable part of town. Still, his primary reason for moving had been to protect her. He would never have asked her to return to that house where he and his friends had unwittingly treated her as though she was a prostitute in training.

And although she didn’t appear to hold his actions against him, he couldn’t help fearing that he’d done irreparable damage to her ability to enjoy marital intimacies. Thus, no matter how downright painful sexual abstinence might prove to be for him, he figured his discomfort was nothing in comparison to the suffering Eliza had endured at his hands.

Perhaps because he’d been thinking so intensely about his wife on the way home, he was startled when he almost bumped into her as he stepped into the entrance hall. Sidestepping quickly, he muttered a muffled curse.

Their abrupt meeting also appeared to catch Eliza by surprise. She took a step back, caught her heel in her hem, and would have stumbled had Chamberly not grabbed her shoulders.

They stood for a few seconds, face to face. Her eyes widened, and Chamberly felt himself falling into their depths. She was so damn beautiful, so unbelievably alluring, and so completely untouchable in so many ways.

He’d been encouraged last night when she’d let him hold her, but now, in the light of day, she stared at him as though he were a demon who’d stretched long arms out of hell to grab her. He immediately dropped his hands and took a step back.

“Oh,” she breathed. Her lips were slightly parted, and he couldn’t seem to stop staring at them. Last night he’d been thrilled when she’d invited him to kiss her. He’d tried to use care with his caresses lest he remind her too vividly of that other occasion when he’d used kisses as part of his efforts to make her body obey his commands. Last night he’d tried to bring her pleasure while refusing to listen to the needs of his own body. Had he gone too far? Had he made her fear him again?

As though she was reading his thoughts, she raised her right hand and touched her lips with two fingers, but almost immediately she dropped her hand and then took a deep breath. “I’ve been looking for you, my lord,” she said. “I didn’t know you’d already gone out.”

Just this slight interaction with his wife had Chamberly’s cock straining against his trousers. He set his teeth and forced a smile when a grimace would have come much more easily. “Is there something I can help you with, my dear?”

“I merely wanted to tell you that my mother and I are going shopping this morning.”

“Oh? Are you in need of funds? Has my man of business not advanced your quarterly allowance?”

She flushed, her cheeks growing a lovely shade of pink. “Oh no, it was nothing like that. You’ve been most generous. I just thought you would like to know where I’ll be.”

“Ah. Well, thank you for telling me, but I won’t worry in any case. You should be perfectly safe in the company of your mother. I assume she is calling for you in her carriage and will have a footman or maid with her.”

“Yes, and we’ll only be gone for a couple of hours. There’s a new shop near Leicester Square that my mother has heard good reports about and she wants to check it for herself.”

“Quite understandable,” Chamberly responded with another smile and a nod. “I wish you both good shopping.”

Eliza returned his smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

The butler spoke up. “Your mother’s carriage has just arrived, my lady. Allow me to escort you outside.”

Eliza nodded and, after a quick farewell wave, turned and hurried out the front door.

There was absolutely nothing to fear about his wife going on a short shopping expedition in one of the better parts of town, Chamberly assured himself as he stepped to the doorway to watch her being helped into her mother’s carriage.

Which didn’t explain the sense of disquiet that settled over him when the door closed behind her.

* * * * *

Eliza was delighted to have a few minutes to visit with her mother while the carriage lumbered toward their destination. Now that she was married, she had to grasp any opportunity to catch up on news about her siblings, all of whom seemed to be doing well. She was especially pleased to hear that Abby was quite happy living in the country where she and Boots could play outside on sunny days.

No doubt they were playing outside today if the skies in the country were as blue as they were in London. The unusually sunny day had obviously enticed many people out and onto the streets. Traffic was heavy, but Eliza and her mother finally arrived at their destination. After the footman helped them out of the carriage, Eliza’s mother instructed the coachman to return to pick them up an hour later.

The new shop stocked a nice variety of gloves, silk stockings, and various fripperies that begged to be examined and, in some cases, purchased. Eliza and her mother happily spent a half an hour looking before making their purchases and stepping back outside.

The shop next door boasted a delightful bonnet in its window in a lovely shade of green that Eliza’s mother was convinced would be just the thing to set off her hazel eyes. Unfortunately, once she tried it on, the countess discovered that the shape did not complement her round face, so the ladies exited that shop without making a purchase.

When they stepped out into the sunlight again, Eliza looked down the street to see if their coachman might be approaching. Unfortunately, her view was blocked by a huge coach that had halted right outside the shop.

“Oh look, Eliza,” her mother said, turning toward the shop next door. “I do believe the bonnet in this window is just the thing for me. Let’s go inside and see.”

Her mother hurried on into the shop, but before Eliza could follow, her attention was drawn to a woman halfway down the street who had started screaming that she’d been robbed. Everyone else paused to look toward the screeching female, and in that split second, a man ran up behind Eliza, slapped his hand over her mouth, and started dragging her toward the now-open door of the coach.

Mayhew! Eliza had caught a glimpse of the fellow from the corner of her eye and recognized the mysterious footman who disappeared the day Abby was abducted.

With knee-weakening horror, Eliza realized that if she allowed herself to be dragged into that coach, unlike Abby, she would not be returned home unharmed. Fear sent blood surging through her veins as her heart sped up. Using strength born of her fear, she twisted in Mayhew’s arms and slammed her elbow into his ribs. Taken by surprise, he loosened his grip on her mouth long enough for her to pull air into her lungs and get off a hearty scream before he again covered her mouth with his hand.

He continued dragging her backward toward the coach. A couple of nearby people glanced toward her but their attention was again engaged for precious seconds by the woman down the street who had increased the volume of her screams and was now yelling “murder” rather than claiming she’d been robbed.

Eliza continued to struggle, dragging her heels and twisting her head. She tried again to jab him with her elbow, but he evaded her thrust. At that moment, her mother came out of the shop, a puzzled frown on her face as though she was wondering what had become of her daughter. When she saw Eliza in the clutches of a strange man, she screamed even louder than the woman down the street, and then started striking Mayhew in the head with her parasol.

As various people became aware of the situation and started shouting at Mayhew to “unhand the lady”, he apparently decided to cut his losses. Cursing, he pushed Eliza toward her mother with such force that both would have fallen backward onto the pavement had Chamberly not rushed up to catch them. The three teetered, still close to falling, until Chamberly got his feet under him enough that he could steady the two ladies. By the time he was able to look for the black coach, it was barreling down the street.

Various people now rushed up offering their help. One gentleman was able to tell them that the fellow who’d been accosting Eliza had jumped into the coach before it pulled away. Everyone assumed he’d been trying to rob her, which suited Eliza. The fact that she had enemies intent on hurting her was not something she wanted to share with her mother.

She clung to Chamberly’s arm while he reassured the small crowd gathered around before firmly sending them on their way. Only then did the ladies have a chance to talk.

“Who was that man?” Eliza’s mother demanded, staring down the street as though she could make him reappear.

Eliza shot Chamberly a warning glance before answering her mother. “Apparently someone interested in robbing me.”

She could tell by Chamberly’s quick nod that he understood she was protecting her mother from the truth. “What brings you here, my lord?” she asked quickly, hoping to redirect her mother’s attention.

“A happy coincidence, obviously. My curricle is just back there, in line behind a couple of coaches.” He nodded down the street. “When I heard you scream, I jumped down and ran, leaving my groom to stay with the horses.”

Eliza’s mother pulled a fan from her reticule and began fanning herself. “I swear, my nerves are totally overset. Thank goodness I see my coachman approaching.”

Eliza was delighted to see that the street had cleared somewhat and her mother’s coach was in line just behind Chamberly’s curricle.

Chamberly spoke up. “Allow me to escort you to your coach, my lady. You should go straight home, have a calming cup of tea, and lie down for an hour. There’s room in my curricle for Eliza, and I’ll see her home safely.”

The countess patted him on the arm. “You’re so thoughtful,” she murmured. “I’ll take your advice.” She turned to give Eliza a quick hug and kiss. “When Chamberly gets you home, my dear, you should rest also.”

“I’ll certainly relax a while, Mama. Goodbye now.”

Five minutes later, the countess was ensconced in her coach, and Chamberly had handed Eliza into his curricle. The groom turned the horses over to Chamberly and jumped onto his perch.

Within a few minutes, they had left the business section of town behind and were rolling down a quiet street where private conversation was possible. “Did you recognize him?” Chamberly asked, his tone grim.

“He was the footman I told you about, the one who disappeared after bringing Abby back home.”

She glanced at Chamberly in time to see a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw. “Do you still have no idea who’s doing this?” she asked.

“Not yet, but I will.”

Eliza didn’t doubt he meant what he said, nor did she doubt that he would eventually succeed. But would she live to see it?

Someone wanted to harm her. She had no idea who. She had no idea why. But they were obviously clever or they could never have escaped Chamberly, Garett, and Jerome for so long.

She’d been extremely frightened this afternoon while in Mayhew’s clutches, terrified that he’d succeed in pulling her into that coach and making off with her. She had little doubt that whoever had engineered her abduction would have molested her in some way. She did not think she would have escaped this time with her virginity.

And if she was going to lose her virginity, she did not want it to be at the hands of her unknown enemies. She wanted—

She gulped and bit her lip, then nodded. Yes, she wanted Chamberly to be the man who took her virginity.

Or rather, the man to whom she freely gave her virginity.

He wouldn’t hurt her. He hadn’t hurt her the night he thought she was in league with the people who had abducted his little niece.

Thus, she trusted him more than she trusted any other man outside her immediate family.

Her mind made up, she decided to broach the subject even though the groom still rode behind.

“My lord?”

Chamberly glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “Yes, my dear?”

“Do you recall offering me choices?”

He pulled in a deep breath before responding. “I remember.”

“Then I’m choosing everything. Tonight.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“You know what that involves?”

“Somewhat. Enough, at least, to know it’s what I want. Are you agreeable?”

She thought she heard a soft whimper from his direction, but when she looked at him, he was staring straight over the horses’ heads.

“Quite agreeable.”

“Excellent. Will you be home for dinner?”

“I need to call on Garett and Jerome this afternoon but yes, I’ll plan on being home for dinner.”

She smiled, amazed at the sense of relief that swept over her. He had agreed, and he didn’t give the appearance of agreeing only out of a sense of duty.

“Excellent,” she said again, just before he pulled the curricle up in front of their residence and jumped down to help her alight.

“I need to leave again immediately,” he said. “Stay inside this afternoon.”

Eliza nodded. She had no intention of going anywhere until she saw exactly what sorts of activities her choices involved.

Chapter Eight

Chamberly wasted no time in setting up a meeting in a nearby tavern with Garett and Jerome so he could acquaint them with the latest happenings, including the fact that his groom could describe the woman who’d created a diversion on the street that morning just before Eliza was attacked.

“First I heard Eliza scream,” Chamberly explained after the barmaid had deposited three ales on the table. “My curricle was trapped behind a couple of coaches, so I jumped down and ran to help Eliza, leaving my groom to hold the horses. He was in an excellent position to observe the female who had yelled murder, and he said she was heavily pockmarked.”

“By damn.” Jerome slapped the table with such force that his tankard almost overturned. “I’d bet my last pound that she’s the harpy I followed from your house that night when I thought I was following Lady Eliza.”

“No doubt you’re right. So now we know positively that the footman and the pockmarked woman are still involved in the plot, whatever it may be. But unfortunately we still don’t know the identity of the mastermind, although I suspect there’s some connection between that person and the man who called himself Mr. Cockington.”

Garett had spent the last few minutes frowning and rubbing his forefinger across a crack in the table. Suddenly he looked up and his frown faded. “That’s it,” he exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to think who that Mr. Cockington reminded me of, and it just came to me. There’s a marked resemblance between him and the Earl of Rudman, who I saw this morning coming out of his tailor’s shop. When he saw me, he immediately looked the other way. I didn’t know why. I never did anything to the man.”

“Rudman,” Chamberly repeated, his brows lowered in thought.

Jerome shrugged. “I’ve never met him although I’ve heard the name, of course.”

“Ah, yes,” Chamberly said. “I remember now. He hunted me up once, maybe four years ago, wanting to join The Riotous Revelers. Said he’d heard our entertainments were wickedly enjoyable and he believed he’d be a valuable addition to the club. He went on to say that he’d done a great deal of research into the more depraved arts and had experience with perverse activities.”

“What did you tell him?” Jerome asked.

“Obviously I couldn’t tell him that The Riotous Revelers was not, if fact, a club at all but rather a ruse to explain our long absences from the social scene. As I recall, I thanked him for his interest but claimed our membership was limited and we had no openings at the time.”

“Could he have been angry enough to have plotted revenge all these years later?” Garett asked.

“What was done to Lady Eliza could certainly be described as depraved,” Jerome interjected. “But why her?”

Chamberly’s lips thinned. “I don’t know yet. But I will. First, we need to determine whether Rudman has any brothers or cousins who resemble him. Garett, can you check on that?”

At Garett’s quick nod, he turned to Jerome. “Try to determine if Rudman and Blanche Lawton are friends, but be careful. I don’t want them to become aware of the fact that we’re investigating them.”

“You’re thinking they may have joined forces to exact revenge on both you and Lady Eliza?”

“It seems farfetched, I know, but—”

“Not necessarily,” Garett said. “Not if Rudman is as depraved as we suspect he might be.”

“And what will you be doing?” Jerome asked.

“Making damn sure that my wife stays safe until we solve this mystery.”

* * * * *

When Chamberly arrived home, he was delighted to discover that his wife had company. Her sister Martha from Sussex and her sister Nancy from Surrey had just arrived in London for a visit. Both ladies planned to spend the afternoon with Eliza. Feeling confident that his wife would be safely occupied for the next few hours freed him to go about his own business.

And his business involved trying to find out as much as he could about the Earl of Rudman without alerting the fellow to the fact that he was being investigated. Unfortunately, Rudman turned out to be as elusive as any enemy Chamberly had ever tracked during the war.

He was able to learn fairly quickly that Rudman owned a town house that he’d inherited from his father. However, when Chamberly spent some time in the earl’s neighborhood, he learned that Rudman wasn’t in residence and, according to what his neighbors had to say, he never stayed there. The widow who lived next door speculated that Rudman avoided his London residence because his invalid wife was housed there, and everyone suspected that Rudman had no desire to be around her. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know where the earl could be found.

By the time he’d realized that Rudman wasn’t going to be easy to locate, much of the afternoon had slipped away, and Chamberly decided he’d better return home so he could be on hand to protect Eliza in case her sisters had left her alone.

He need not have worried. Once he arrived at their residence, he discovered that Eliza had invited both her visiting sisters, her parents, and her brother Richard and his wife to have dinner with them.

Chamberly and his brother David had been close, but there’d been just the two of them, so Chamberly was not accustomed to the cacophony that ensued when members of his wife’s family gathered around the dinner table. Laughter was followed by arguments that were then followed by more laughter. Half the time Chamberly couldn’t decide when his guests were teasing each other or about to come to blows.

Not that they would really have come to blows, of course. Obviously they were much too fond of each other for that. And while Chamberly thoroughly enjoyed their company, he wasn’t at all sad when Eliza’s father declared it was time for them all to leave.

Everyone agreed, but another half hour was required for the ladies to find their reticules and the men to locate their canes and gloves. The hour was approaching midnight before the last of Eliza’s family made their way down the front steps, leaving Chamberly and Eliza standing in the entrance hall.

The ensuing quiet was both welcome and somewhat unnerving. Chamberly had no way of knowing if Eliza still wanted him to join her in her chamber that evening, and he simply couldn’t think of any way to ask that wouldn’t appear self-serving.

So he instead turned to face her, grasped her hands, and smiled down into her upturned face. “I thoroughly enjoyed your family, my dear. I’m pleased that you invited them.”

Eliza returned his smile. “Oh, they invited themselves. You’ll find that my family members don’t stand on ceremony. And if they ever make pests of themselves, feel free to send them on their way.”

Chamberly’s smile faded into a slight frown. “Did any of them have recent word of Abby?”

“Yes. Mother says Abby is quite happy but is looking forward to the summer when our parents will be moving back to the country.”

“The important thing is that she’s safe.”

Eliza nodded, then bit her lip. “You look disturbed, my lord. Are you concerned that I might have changed my mind about tonight?”

He inhaled sharply, amazed that she could speak so directly about a subject that must at the very least unearth hideous memories for her. “I don’t want you to feel confined by your words from earlier today. We’ll do whatever you want.”

She lifted her chin. “I still want everything. I’ll wait for you in my chamber.” With that, she turned and started up the stairs leaving Chamberly to stare after her. It was a shock to realize he hadn’t been this nervous since he was a young virgin who’d just been invited to visit the bedchamber of the lovely widow who lived next door to his father’s town house.

Although he’d never admit his fears to anyone else, he had to be honest with himself. He was terrified that when he started loving her, Eliza would remember all he’d done to her against her will and whatever fondness she might have begun feeling toward him would turn into hate.

But he’d never been a man to run from his fears. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and followed Eliza up the stairs.

Chapter Nine

Eliza supposed she should be nervous, but she simply wasn’t. She trusted her husband. It was that simple. She was confident he wouldn’t hurt her, although, truth to tell, she was a little worried about her own lack of knowledge. Would he be disappointed by her inadequacies?

Somehow, she didn’t really think he’d expect too much of her to begin with, but since her worries were causing her to become tense, she decided to discuss them with Chamberly before they began.

She allowed Agatha to help her get ready for bed, just as she did every night, but tonight, as soon as her maid wished her sweet dreams and closed the door on her way out of the chamber, Eliza jumped up, pulled on her robe, and sat down in her reading chair to wait for Chamberly.

He arrived as usual, with a quick tap on the adjoining door before sticking his head into the room. He looked first toward the bed and his eyebrows shot up when he saw it was empty. He immediately shifted his gaze to the chair where Eliza sat, and his puzzlement morphed into a smile. “Shall I come in?”

“Please do.” Eliza tried to return his smile although she feared hers was a little weak. “Could we sit and talk for a few minutes before we do anything else?”

“Of course.” He stepped fully into the room. He hadn’t dressed for bed, she noticed. He still wore his trousers, although he’d exchanged his boots for slippers. He’d also removed his coat and cravat but left his loose-fitting shirt untucked. Eliza felt a fissure of fear mix with desire when her gaze fixed on the dark hairs peering out around the front opening of his shirt.

He paused, then reached back into his chamber to retrieve a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. He walked toward her holding the bottle aloft. “I thought you might join me.”

“Y-yes.” She paused, irritated with herself because she’d stammered. “I’d like that.” She motioned to the small table beside her chair. Generally it held a book but she’d cleared it off tonight except for the candle.

He poured each of them a glass of wine, pulled up a second chair so he could sit across from her, and then seated himself. A half-smile pulled at his lips, but Eliza could have sworn he was nervous, perhaps because his smile appeared so forced.

She grasped her glass and sipped the wine. It was sweet and heady, and warmth soon began to spread from her stomach outward. Some of the tension seeped from her muscles, but she didn’t want to dull her senses too much. She set her half-emptied glass back on the table.

Chamberly drained his glass before setting it down. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” Eliza realized she’d spoken too loudly and at once lowered her voice. “No, not at all. It’s just that…well, my sisters and I were talking this afternoon and they said that there are things a wife can do to make her husband’s experience in bed more pleasurable, and I wanted to ask you if there’s anything in particular you want me to do tonight.”

Chamberly stared at her for a few seconds, then blinked, then stared a second more before his mouth dropped open. He closed it with a snap. “You mean women talk about such things?”

It was Eliza’s time to blink in surprise. “My sisters and I are all married women you know. Why? Do men not talk about…well, those things?”

“Yes, of course they do, but not in, eh… That is to say, we don’t exactly… My God.” He appeared to have run out of words, which puzzled Eliza.

“Is it wrong for women to talk about what goes on in the marital bed?”

“No, of course not. I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Well?” Eliza folded her hands in her lap and waited.

“Well, what?”

She wondered if perhaps Chamberly had drunk too much wine. He seemed somehow slower to understand her than usual. “Is there anything I can do to make our activities in the bed more enjoyable for you?”

He swallowed, then reached for his wineglass. When he lifted it and saw it was empty, he set it back down. “Actually, I think we’d both be more comfortable if we just relax and let nature take its course.”

Eliza frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

“In that case, why don’t we begin by you kissing me?”

“Oh?” Eliza’s frown deepened. “What if I don’t exactly know how? Will you be disappointed?”

“You could never disappoint me. Why don’t you come over here, sit in my lap, and then, whenever you wish, you can kiss me.”

“Very well.” Eliza swallowed. This wasn’t what she had expected, but she had to admit that she rather liked the idea of being the one who initiated the action. She’d struggled all day with her fears that Chamberly’s touch would resurrect so many memories that she would have to ask him to stop. Now those fears were lessened considerably.

She stood, shook out her robe, and walked the three steps necessary to reach him. She was still wondering what to do next when he held out his arms in invitation and then, as she lowered herself into his lap, helped arrange her so that their faces were almost touching.

She gazed for a few seconds at his lips. She liked looking at them. They were nicely shaped, not too thin and thankfully not too thick. She was convinced she wouldn’t have enjoyed kissing thick lips.

As she stared at them, his lips quirked up at the corners so that he was almost smiling but not quite. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

She had no intention of telling the entire truth, that she’d spent several seconds thinking about the shape of his lips, so she told the closest to the truth she could manage without dying of embarrassment. “I’m wondering how I should begin a kiss. Do you have any suggestions for me?”

He formed his lips into a moue, as though he was giving serious consideration to her question. “I would suggest you tilt your head, just a bit, thusly.” He placed his forefinger against her chin and pushed down very gently. “Then you could lean closer, which would indicate to me that I should lean toward you.”

He followed his words with action until perhaps only an inch separated them. “Next you might consider touching my lips with yours.”

“Very well.” Eliza leaned in even closer and felt his breath easing from between his parted lips. She decided she liked the sensation and held there for a few seconds. A slight moan, almost inaudible, floated out with his next breath, and she wondered if her inaction was painful to him. She almost asked but then recalled how shocked he’d been to discover she’d talked to her sisters about such things, so she closed her lips and touched his.

They were everything she remembered them being—warm, soft but firm, and totally enticing. She applied some pressure, but he didn’t reciprocate, so she applied even more pressure. Then she did as she recalled him doing, which was to gently draw her lips across his from side to side.

Finally, when he continued to remain completely still, she grew impatient. She eased her tongue out and ran it around the edges of his mouth. The rate of his breathing increased, but that was his only reaction.

Eliza pulled back and said, with a little heat in her tone, “I wouldn’t mind if you’d help me out a little. I really liked what you did with your tongue before.”

His eyes widened and he pulled in a deep breath. “Really?”

She pulled back even further. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“That night. It was pretty terrible for you, and I did things to you that no gentleman would ever—”

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear any more talk like that. You did what you had to do to save your niece, just as I did what I had to do to save Abby. You thought I was in league with that hideous Mr. Cockington, and you were still kind to me. I have no fear that anything we do in bed together from now on will be hurtful to me.”

“I don’t know about that. You are a virgin.”

“True, but I’m not overly concerned about that. Now, will you please stop worrying and make love to me?”

Chamberly’s lips stretched into a grin. “With the utmost pleasure, I assure you, my dear wife. But you have to promise me one thing. You must promise me that if you become uncomfortable or frightened, you’ll tell me to stop.”

Eliza smiled broadly. “I promise.”

She clambered out of his lap and hurried over to the bed, keeping her back toward him. She didn’t want him reading the expression on her face and perhaps realizing that not only was she a little frightened but also that she was beginning to fall in love with him. That knowledge was something she’d have to deal with in her own time because she also realized that he was far from being in love with her and quite possibly never would be.

Chamberly watched Eliza shrug out of her robe and then turn toward him with an adorably uncertain expression on her face. Despite the circumstances that had brought them together, he counted himself lucky to be her husband. After his experience with Cerise, he’d decided not to risk marriage. Then he’d unwittingly been a major participant in Eliza’s sexual humiliation, and he’d felt honor-bound to make her his wife, even with her stipulation that the marriage be in name only.

Thank God she appeared to be changing her mind about that. At least he hoped she was. She now stood beside the bed frowning, obviously unsure whether she wanted to completely undress. After a few seconds, she made up her mind and climbed under the covers still wearing her night rail.

She leaned back against the pillow and watched while he removed his shirt and slippers. When he began unfastening his trousers, she quickly turned her head. He caught her glancing back toward him out of the corner of her eye a couple of times and was glad he’d decided to wear his underdrawers to bed. He still felt far from comfortable about how Eliza was going to react to his lovemaking. At least she didn’t scream or jump out of bed when he climbed in beside her and draped an arm around her shoulders.

Kissing seemed a safe place to begin. She’d indicated that she enjoyed kissing, so he started slow, hoping Eliza would set the pace. She was not nearly as adept as some of his past lovers had been, but he was delighted with her enthusiasm. When he eased his tongue past her lips and into her mouth, she reciprocated by exploring his tongue with her own.

“Mmmm,” she hummed.

He pulled back, fearing she might be trying to raise an objection. “Is anything not to your liking?”

Her voice hinted at breathlessness. “I like everything very much. Do you not?”

He tried to fight back a smile but lost the battle. “I love it. Thank you for asking.”

“May we continue then?” She sounded a little peeved.

“Certainly.” Since he couldn’t stop smiling, Chamberly chose not to kiss her lips immediately. Instead he planted a kiss on the top edge of her ear, then another on her temple, and still a third on her eyebrow.

A soft sigh suggested she was less than pleased with his strategy, so Chamberly forced himself to become more serious about kissing her in earnest. He was not sorry. She responded even more enthusiastically this time, and soon both of them were breathing heavily.

Feeling it was time to move beyond kissing, he eased his hand under the edge of her night rail and trailed his fingers up her rib cage until he detected the rising mound of her breast.

She stiffened and a shudder shook her torso.

He halted the motion of his hand. “Shall I stop?”

“No.” Her tone was emphatic. “I need you to continue. I need new memories to replace the bad ones. I want you to do some of those things to me that Jerome and Garett did. But you’ll be doing them because I asked you to, not because you think I’m being trained to take my place in a bawdy house.”

She hadn’t mentioned that Jerome and Garett had humiliated and sometimes hurt her, but Chamberly knew that had been the case. He could only pray that he’d be able to love her in such a way that she’d not recall their treatment of her.

He eased his hand over her breast and was forced to swallow a moan. He’d known that he would suffer while going slowly to keep from frightening her, but he hadn’t expected his desire to grow so strong so quickly. His cock strained against the soft fabric of his underdrawers. He longed to pull them off but knew he’d have to bide his time.

He was considerably encouraged when Eliza lifted her torso off the mattress as though to press her breast into his hand. Then she reached for the bottom edge of her night rail and pulled it up to bare herself.

Chamberly looked down at her beautiful breasts. They weren’t huge, but they were beautifully shaped with light brown nipples. He’d admired her breasts the night when she’d sat through that interminable dinner while Jerome and Garett had tormented her with honey and rose petals.

And he mentally cringed, recalling how he’d instructed his two friends to manipulate her nipples while he played with her pussy, trying to force her to climax. There was little consolation in the knowledge that he was merely following the instructions that had come in the letter telling him what he had to do in order to save Charlotte.

But if Eliza was recalling what was done to her that night, she wasn’t allowing it to dampen her desire to have him make love to her. She moaned softly while her nipples hardened and swelled, and he felt hard-pressed to lavish enough attention on them, even as he ministered to her right breast with his tongue while rolling the nipple on her left breast between his fingers.

Her breath was coming faster, and very soon, she was almost gasping as she phrased her next sentence. “Do you recall that thing you did with your fingers before?”

“Yes.”

“Can you do that again?”

He ran his hand down her belly and gently eased her legs apart until he could slip a finger between her nether lips. She was already wet, but he also felt her tense. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I don’t think so. What do I need to do?”

“You need to spread your legs for me. Can you do that?”

He heard her swallow, but she also eased her legs open a little, then asked, “Do I have to put the soles of my feet together?”

“Good God no.” He was furious that Cockington had given her such an impression but tried to contain his anger because he didn’t want to frighten her. “Just do whatever feels comfortable for you.”

She spread her legs a little more, and Chamberly eased his fingers farther into her. Her quick intake of breath suggested she was enjoying what he was doing. Or was he misinterpreting her reaction?

His voice when he spoke was a little raspier than usual. “Do you like this?”

“Yes. Oh, yes. I liked that feeling, the feeling I got that evening when you said I had come. It was embarrassing, and I’m embarrassed tonight to admit it, but at the same time, I liked it.”

“There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. After all, we’re man and wife now, and I’m very pleased that you’re even willing to share a bed with me. Can you spread just a little bit more?”

She complied with his request and he used all the skills he possessed to bring her pleasure. As he dragged his finger back and forth through the increasing dampness, he felt her beginning to respond and he increased the pressure, particularly around her bud. Within seconds, her hips were shooting up into the air as she sought even more contact. Her legs spread wide and her moans of pleasure increased in volume until her release grabbed her and shudders racked her body.

When the last spasms of her orgasm faded, she dropped back onto the bed and lay against him, weak and obviously sated, considering the smile that pulled at her lips.

Chamberly decided his wisest course would be to say nothing. He merely wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. They lay there for several seconds before she eased her hand down his torso and paused at the top of his underdrawers. “That was wonderful,” she murmured. “Now it’s your turn.”

Eliza was delighted that she’d had that nice, long visit with her sisters that afternoon. Since both had been married for years, their experiences in the marital bed were extensive, and considering that Eliza herself was now married, they’d been more than willing to share their knowledge with her.

Nancy had been most forthcoming. “Don’t hesitate to wrap your hand around your husband’s penis,” she’d said. “He’ll love any attention you give it before he actually puts it inside you.”

Martha was a little more inhibited than Nancy, but even she had agreed that if one wanted to keep one’s husband from straying, it was wise to be inventive in bed. “Using your mouth on him,” she said, blushing to a very rosy hue, “appears to delight him beyond belief.”

“And letting him use his tongue on you can be one of the most satisfying activities of anything you do together,” Nancy had added.

Martha’s blush had deepened, but she didn’t pretend not to know what Nancy was referring to.

Although Eliza wasn’t sure she was up to letting Chamberly use his tongue on her, she was certainly willing to try Nancy’s first suggestion of wrapping her hand around him. Thus, when her exploring hand first discovered his underdrawers, she simply ran her hand inside.

Since she’d never actually seen a man’s organ before, she was more than startled to discover how large and firm it was. This thing was supposed to fit inside her? She almost jerked her hand back.

But then she remembered how much pleasure he’d given her, and she wanted to reciprocate. “Why don’t you take your drawers off so I can have better access to you?”

“You’re sure?” he asked. His voice was gravelly.

“Positive. You don’t mind, do you?”

“God, no.” He’d raised his hips, slipped the drawers down his legs and off over his feet, and kicked them to the bottom of the bed. When he settled back down on his back, Eliza discovered his penis was standing straight up and weaving a little, almost as though it had a mind of its own. She gently wrapped her hand around him and was pleased that even such a soft touch could bring a moan to his lips.

“Show me what to do,” she demanded, and was pleased when he brought his hand down and covered hers. Then he began moving her hand on him.

She ran her free hand over his chest, reveling in the feel of him—the hard muscles, the wiry hair, and the tiny nipples that seemed to harden as her fingers grazed them.

“What’s next?” she whispered into his ear. He shivered and she almost smiled. “Please don’t hold back. I want to know.”

He pulled her hand away from him and turned to face her. “Very well. Remember, I’ll stop if you ask me to, but don’t wait too long. Otherwise…”

“I understand. I won’t ask you to stop.”

She didn’t feel nearly as confident as she sounded, so when he rolled her onto her back, spread her legs, and raised himself above her, she shut her eyes, determined not to let her gaze reflect her uncertainty.

But then, before trying to enter her, he spread her legs even farther and dropped his head toward her pussy. She was so startled that her eyes flew open and she looked down her body toward where he’d settled his head between her legs.

He looked up and met her gaze as though trying to gauge her reaction. “It will make it easier on you if I can bring you to the edge again before I enter you.”

She swallowed and reminded herself that she trusted him. “Very well,” she said before laying back and closing her eyes again.

But she tensed when he opened her pussy with his fingers.

He paused. “Is something wrong?”

She didn’t want to admit that his actions were bringing back memories of that night, the way she’d been forced to experience sensations that were humiliating and almost painful before they became so overpowering that she lost control.

She wasn’t certain she wanted to lose control again.

“Do you want me to stop now?”

Did she? Was she willing to be forever limited by memories of that horrible evening?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Go ahead.”

He waited another few seconds, as though to be certain she was still agreeable, and then he did nothing more than to begin dragging his forefinger across the folds of her pussy. She liked that, and she soon began feeling the dampness return.

Then, grasping each of her ankles, he spread her even farther, so far that she wondered that her joints didn’t object, and he lowered his mouth to her pussy. His tongue gently explored the outer folds before delving deeper and lapping at that spot he’d touched before that seemed to be a bundle of pure nerves.

She screamed, and he paused. A note of satisfaction sounded in his tone. “Do you like me licking your nubbin?”

“Oh God, yes,” she murmured, hoping she’d guessed correctly in assuming the bundle of nerves and her nubbin were one and the same. “Please do it again.”

He brought his mouth back down to her and again began gently, slowly, touching just the outer folds, dragging out the procedure until she thought she’d fly to pieces.

And just as she was ready to beg him to lick her nubbin again, he pushed himself back up and eased his erection into her. She gasped at the unfamiliar feeling of fullness, but as he eased his penis deeper, he thrust his hand between them and his finger found her nubbin.

She was screaming from the unexpected orgasm when he thrust himself fully inside her. Somehow, pain blended with pleasure to the point that when she realized she’d been deflowered while coming, she knew she’d always recall that night as a joyful experience rather than a painful episode.

Seconds later, while her inner muscles were still contracting from her orgasm, she felt him emptying himself into her, and she was thrilled to realize that she was finally, fully, a married woman.

And even more thrilling was the knowledge that despite what had happened to her in Chamberly’s dining room that night, she had overcome her fears and was able to enjoy the act that occurred between a man and a woman.

When he finally lifted himself off her and collapsed onto the bed, he pulled her into his arms. “You, my lady,” he murmured into her ear, “are incredible. I was fully prepared to face a marriage in name only, but instead I’ve been gifted with a wife who is generous and passionate. I give thanks for you.”

He kissed her gently on the forehead and that was the instant she realized she had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with him.

Chapter Ten

Chamberly could hardly believe his luck. He and Eliza had been married for five weeks now, and every night was a feast of lovemaking. He would have understood if she’d been repelled by his touch. Instead she seemed to crave it more each time they made love.

The only fly in the ointment was the fact that he still hadn’t located Mr. Cockington, and the mystery man’s possible connection with the Earl of Rudman hadn’t panned out. Garett had researched the earl and his family tree and discovered that Rudman had few relatives. Although married, he’d always appeared to dislike his wife, and there’d been no children as a result of the union. His parents were dead, and he had no brothers or sisters. Upon his death, the title would revert to another branch of the family going back to the first earl, who had lived two hundred years earlier.

Still, Rudman remained a mystery. No one in London seemed to know where he lived. He hadn’t resided with his wife for years, and he never visited his country estate, which was slowly deteriorating due to his lack of interest and oversight.

Logic suggested that Chamberly pursue other avenues in his search for Mr. Cockington, but the possible connection with Rudman was the only clue he possessed. Besides, his instincts told him a connection existed if he could only locate it.

The break came on a Thursday morning near the end of the Season when he was breakfasting alone. Eliza had left early to join her mother and sisters for breakfast before Nancy and Martha left later that day to return to their homes.

Chamberly had just drained his last cup of coffee when Jerome, not standing on ceremony, joined him in the breakfast room.

“I told your butler there was no need to announce me,” Jerome said, dropping into a chair at the table. “Do you have any more of that coffee?”

Chamberly glanced toward his footman, who hurried to pour an extra cup.

“You’re up and about early,” Chamberly commented while waiting for the footman to perform his task. “Any particular reason?”

Jerome nodded, then glanced toward the footman.

“That will be all, James,” Chamberly said as soon as the servant placed a cup of coffee in front of Jerome.

Jerome took a sip of the stimulating liquid while watching the footman exit the room. When the coast was clear, he set his cup down with a clank. “Rudman has an illegitimate half brother, a fellow born five years after Rudman’s birth. His name is Arthur Ingleman, and from what I’ve been able to discover, he’s as hedonistic and sadistic as Rudman himself.”

Chamberly’s heart sped up. “Any physical description?”

“Tall and thin. That’s about all I know thus far. I’ve quietly offered a reward for information about his whereabouts, but I’ve been told that most people would be afraid to betray him. They say he’s a mean bastard.”

A half-smile twisted Chamberly’s lips. “I doubt he’s half as bad as some of the characters we’ve dealt with in the past. I think I’ll don one of my more disreputable costumes so I can blend in at some of the city’s less reputable establishments. Care to join me?”

A wide grin split Jerome’s face. “That sounds most pleasurable. Come to my lodgings where we can change into our other garb in peace. My valet is gone for the week. Had an emergency to attend to in his family.”

“Excellent.” Chamberly stood. “And I’ll send a message around to apprise Garett of our plans. I don’t doubt but that he’ll want to join us.”

* * * * *

Seven hours later, Chamberly eased into his bedchamber and began divesting himself of his clothes, hoping to be completely disrobed before he rang for his valet. Franklin, who’d served as Chamberly’s servant in the army, had followed him into civilian life and transformed himself into a preposterously proper valet. The poor man would have a conniption fit if he should come in and see the condition of Chamberly’s shirt, cravat, and boots.

Of course Chamberly hadn’t worn his tailored coat and trousers to wander from hellish tavern to even more hellish tavern that afternoon. Instead he’d changed in Jerome’s chambers into a ragged coat and baggy trousers for that expedition, but he’d worn his good shirt under the coat. In addition—since he had long ago destroyed the boots he’d once worn to blend in with the underworld in other countries—he’d been forced to wear his expensive and practically new Hobys.

Thus, he now crept like a thief into his own bedchamber so he could try to repair the damage to his boots before Franklin saw them. After all, considering his more unpleasant experiences while engaged in covert activities abroad, he certainly wasn’t above cleaning a little horse shit off the soles of his good boots.

Unfortunately, his luck had appeared out that entire day. Not only had he and his friends found no trace of the man he still thought of as Mr. Cockington, but he had even failed to slip undetected into his own bedchamber.

“My lord.” Franklin’s horrified tone sounded from the doorway. “What have you done to your boots? And your coat is wrinkled and your shirt…” Franklin’s voice broke. “Your poor shirt.”

Chamberly stifled a sigh. “Remain calm, Franklin. I think everything can be salvaged.”

Franklin wrung his hands. “Oh my lord, I don’t know. Even I have my limits.” He hung his head, sighed, and then squared his shoulders. “But I can only try.”

Franklin had taken only one step into the chamber when a noise in the corridor behind him attracted his attention. His eyes widened, his lips thinned, and he whirled to glare at the distraction. “What do you want, girl? His lordship is occupied right now.”

A trembling voice sounded from beyond the valet. “I don’t care. I must see him. It’s about my lady.”

Clothes forgotten, Chamberly dashed toward the door and pushed Franklin to one side. He knew immediately that Eliza’s maid wasn’t bearing good news. “What is it, Agatha?”

“It’s her ladyship, my lord. I think she needs help.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was supposed to be back from her mother’s by two o’clock, my lord. She’d told me to be ready to help her change out of her walking dress into something more comfortable because she was planning to attend to her correspondence this afternoon. But she didn’t come back at two o’clock.”

Chamberly had thought he’d endured every sort of fear known to man during his wartime experiences. He’d been wrong. His mouth turned instantly dry and his blood began pumping through his veins so fast that his head felt light.

But he’d also learned to function in spite of fear. “Did no one send a messenger to her mother’s to discover where she was?”

“No, my lord, because my mistress sent me a note saying she intended to spend the afternoon with her mother. She also suggested I take the opportunity to spend some time with my sweetheart, who’s footman to her brother.”

“So?” Chamberly tried to keep his impatience from being reflected in his tone. He didn’t want to frighten Agatha, but he couldn’t imagine where her story was headed.

“I thought it was strange, her ladyship saying that about me visiting with Mr. Henley. The only other time she suggested such a thing was the time little Abby disappeared for a while.”

Calm settled over Chamberly and his blood turned to ice. A pattern was developing, but he couldn’t yet see where it would take him. “Go on, Agatha.”

“Well, I went to see Mr. Henley, but he was on duty so I had to wait outside the kitchen door until he could risk a few minutes to see me. We whispered to each other about what could be going on, and he mentioned that he’d seen that footman, the one who worked in Lord Greenley’s house and who disappeared the same day Miss Abby was gone for a while.”

“The footman who tried to abduct her ladyship while she and her mother were shopping?” Chamberly asked. He had no doubt that the servants knew about that episode. He’d learned long ago that there was little the servants didn’t know about those they served.

“Yes, my lord. That footman. So Mr. Henley followed him to a house not too far from here. He watched him go in, and he waited outside for as long as he could, hoping to follow the fellow again if he left. But he never did leave so Mr. Henley thinks he might be working there.”

“Could your Mr. Henley take me to this house?”

“Yes, my lord. He even wrote down the address.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Chamberly.

He glanced at it, then thrust it toward Franklin. “See to it that this address is delivered to Jerome and Garett immediately. Tell them someone may be holding her ladyship there against her will. They’ll know what to do.”

Franklin raised his chin. His usual sulk faded as a flicker of determination shone in his eyes, the same determination he’d exhibited during the war when his duties had little to do with valeting and more to do with procuring information for his master. “I’ll get word to them.” He turned on his heel and hurried toward the servants’ stairwell at the back of the corridor.

“Agatha, I need you to take me to Mr. Henley.”

“Yes, my lord. I think he’ll be expecting us.”

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later, Chamberly stood just inside the Viscount Dunmorn’s entrance hall interviewing his footman. Fortunately, the viscount was not at home, and the butler appeared too taken aback by the unusual proceedings to object.

“Aye, milord,” Henley said in response to Chamberly’s question. He observed the butler out of the corner of his eye. “I can show you the house right now if I’m excused from my duties.”

The butler, after one glance into Chamberly’s eyes, quickly nodded. “Do what is needed.”

“Let’s go.” Chamberly didn’t wait for the door to be opened for him. He grabbed Henley’s sleeve and pulled him out into the street where his curricle and groom waited. “I’ll drive as close to the location as possible, but I don’t want to announce my arrival. When we’re near, let me know. I’ll leave my groom in charge of the horses and you and I will go the rest of the way on foot.”

Fortunately for Chamberly’s nerves, the house was less than three miles away and was in a relatively prosperous neighborhood. He understood now why he and his friends had experienced no luck searching the more notorious sections of town.

He had little doubt that Eliza was being held inside that house, and caution would have suggested he wait for backup from Jerome and Garett. However, the thought of what Rudman and his cohorts might be doing to his beloved wife brought a chill to his blood, so caution be damned. After all, he’d faced dangers alone before, and his motivations had not been nearly this strong.

The fact that he was now thinking of Eliza as “his beloved wife” flitted through his mind and somehow comforted him. But he had no time to examine his feelings for her at the moment.

He turned to Henley. “Wait in the alley until my friends arrive. Tell Jerome to take the front and Garett, the back. I’ll be inside.”

Henley nodded and quietly moved toward the adjoining alley.

Chamberly waited until Henley was secreted and then stepped up to the front door where he raised the knocker and tapped three times.

A footman opened the door with a flourish. He bowed mockingly, and a sneer distorted his face. “Come in, my lord. We’ve been expecting you.”

Chamberly had no doubt that this was the fellow who’d betrayed Eliza and her family by helping abduct Abby, and he longed to smash his fist into the man’s face. Instead, he merely raised one eyebrow. “Hello, Mayhew. I assume my wife is here.”

“Oh yes, she’s here.”

“Take me to her.” Chamberly kept his tone even, although it cost him.

A grin split Mayhew’s face. “Too bad you arrived so soon. We’ve been enjoying her already but we had further plans for her this evening.”

Dread coiled and burned in Chamberly’s gut, but he merely sighed, as though bored. “I don’t recall asking you to speak. Now take me to my wife.”

A sulk replaced the footman’s grin. “This way.” He spun on his heel and stalked toward a door a short way down the corridor.

Chamberly followed slowly. His gaze flicked from side to side, taking in the windows on the right side of the entrance hall and the staircase on the left. If he could free Eliza before help came, he’d need some idea of the layout of the house.

Mayhew paused in a doorway. “He’s here,” he said by way of announcing Chamberly. Then he stepped to one side and waved an arm to indicate that Chamberly should precede him.

Chamberly took one step into the room and paused. He immediately saw Eliza seated in a chair in the center of the room. A thin scarf had been used to tie her hands together in front of her, and they lay in her lap, clenched into fists. Another scarf had been wrapped around her head so that it covered her mouth. Her eyes appeared wider than usual, and Chamberly had no doubt that she was terrified, but she didn’t appear to have been harmed in any way.

The ball of fear in his belly shrunk slightly, but he knew they were still in a great deal of danger. Forcing his gaze away from his wife’s lovely face, he attempted to assess the risk.

The Earl of Rudman stood in a corner, almost as though he was attempting to hide himself in the shadows. He presented no immediate danger, so Chamberly transferred his gaze to the man standing just behind Eliza’s chair.

“Ah, Mr. Cockington,” Chamberly said. “We meet again.”

“So we do, Mr. Lade. But the charade is over. Let’s revert to our real names. Mine is Arthur Ingleman.”

Chamberly allowed his lip to curl. “I think I prefer Mr. Cockington. The name fits you so well.”

Fury darkened the man’s eyes but he quickly forced a smile. “As you will. Then I shall continue to call you Mr. Lade.”

Rudman spoke up in a gravelly voice. “Enough of this banal chatter about names. If you two wish to insult each other, you may do so elsewhere.”

He then addressed Chamberly. “Do you recall the occasion of our last conversation, my lord?”

Chamberly nodded. “I do. Have you been harboring a grudge all these years because I didn’t see fit to welcome you into a club composed of my immediate friends?”

“The Riotous Revelers,” Rudman said, a sneer in his voice. “From what I know of your friends, I doubt you were very riotous. Still, no one turns their back on me and escapes retribution.”

Chamberly lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “No doubt I’m rather dense, but I find your method of exacting revenge somewhat puzzling. What, exactly, did you hope to attain by abducting two children and then having your bastard brother set up that farce in my dining room?”

Before Rudman could respond, a woman’s strident voice sounded from the doorway of an adjoining room. “I’ll tell you what we expected to attain.”

She marched into the room and paused in front of Eliza’s chair, glaring down at her before cutting her gaze toward Chamberly. “After what happened, you were supposed to denounce this bitch so that she’d never receive another offer.”

She turned back to address Eliza. “You shouldn’t have taken Underhill away from me. I was going to have his baby and instead of offering for me, he fell victim to your lures. If it hadn’t been for Lord Rudman helping me find a midwife who could rid me of the baby before I was showing, I’d have been ruined.”

“So you decided by way of revenge to ruin Lady Eliza,” Chamberly interjected.

She turned to face him. “Yes, damn you. You ruined everything by offering for the bitch.”

“Enough of these useless recriminations,” Rudman said. “It’s time to move on to the next phase of our little drama.”

He then stepped in front of Eliza and looked down at her with a sneer pulling at his lips. “We’re going to give you a choice, Lady Eliza. You can either voluntarily fuck first me, then my brother, and finally Mayhew—while the others watch, of course—or you can watch your husband die.”

His hand shot out and he tugged the gag away from Eliza’s mouth. “It’s your decision, Lady Chamberly. Which will it be, your virtue or your husband’s life?”

Eliza felt Chamberly’s gaze seeking her attention as surely as if he had reached out and grabbed her. She risked a quick glance toward him and then gave the very slightest of nods. She knew she could trust him to get them out of this situation. After what he’d told her about his experiences during the war, she had no doubt that he’d come prepared for anything. She merely needed to give him whatever amount of time he might require.

“Could I have a cup of tea?” she asked meekly, gazing at Rudman. “My throat is terribly dry, and I really need something to drink.”

He shot her a disgruntled glare. “Very well.” He turned Mayhew. “Fetch our guest a glass of wine.”

Mayhew stomped across the room and poured a fairly generous measure of dark red wine into a dirty glass and carried it back to Eliza. When he held it out to her, she lifted her hands, which were still tied together, and raised her brows in a silent question.

“Oh, very well, damn it, untie her,” Rudman ordered, his lip curling into a snarl. “Anyway, she’ll need her hands when she starts fucking me. If she doesn’t play the part of whore to my satisfaction, I’ll turn her over to a procuress and let her live the rest of her life on her back with her feet in the air.”

Grinning, Mayhew set the wine on a side table, untied the scarf holding Eliza’s hands in front of her, and then picked up the wineglass. As he handed it to Eliza, she pretended to swoon, tossing a hand up as though to catch herself. Instead, she managed to slap the wineglass hard enough that the contents flew into the air and arced. The dark red liquid first splashed across Blanche Lawton’s bosom and then deposited splotches on Rudman’s coat, which bore the signature of one of London’s most expensive tailors.

Blanche’s squeal of dismay was followed by Rudman’s curses. Their immediate swipes at the stains drew the attention of everyone in the room, and all eyes were attracted to their efforts to minimize the damage to their clothing.

Eliza almost grinned when Chamberly stooped to pull a dagger from his boot. Instead, she jumped behind the chair she’d been sitting in so no one could grab her and hold her as a shield. Within seconds, Chamberly had his arm wrapped around Rudman’s torso. The knife blade rested on his throat.

Rudman’s eyes widened, and he gulped.

“My wife and I are leaving now,” Chamberly announced. “If anyone tries to stop us, we all know what I’ll be forced to do, and I’m really not in the mood to cut throats this afternoon. It’s so messy, you know.”

He tightened his grip and Rudman moaned. Without looking toward her, he addressed Eliza. “My dear wife, I want you to make your way to the front door and outside. You’ll find your brother’s footman, Henley, in the alley. Tell him to escort you home. I’ll join you later.”

The last thing Eliza wanted to do was to leave Chamberly in that room with Rudman, Mr. Cockington, Mayhew, and Blanche Lawton. Still, if she objected, she would merely distract him. “Very well,” she said. Being careful to keep her distance from any of the men who might have attempted to grab her, she walked across the room to the doorway leading out into the corridor, then stepped into the hallway and hurried out of the front door and down the steps.

Henley stepped out of the alley just as Eliza reached the walkway. Before either could speak, their attention was drawn to the sound of galloping horses. Eliza looked up the street to see Garett driving his curricle at top speed. Jerome occupied the passenger seat and strangely, her husband’s valet, Franklin, rode on the groom’s platform.

“What on earth?” Eliza murmured, momentarily diverted by the sight of the persnickety Franklin clinging to the back of a curricle. Then her heart felt as though it literally leapt with joy. Help had arrived.

Henley hurried to the horses’ heads when Garett pulled the team to a halt.

Jerome jumped down first and hurried to Eliza’s side. “Where’s Chamberly?”

“Inside.” Eliza pointed to the open doorway. “He’s holding a knife to Rudman’s throat, but Mr. Cockington and Mayhew are in there too. Be careful.”

“A knife to Rudman’s throat?” Jerome repeated as he joined them. “Damn, we always miss the fun.” But he pulled a pistol from inside his driving coat. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I’m fine. Just hurry and help my husband.”

“I doubt he’ll be in need of our help,” Garett said on a sigh. “But just in case…” He, too, reached inside his voluminous coat and came out with a pistol. “If you’ll excuse us, my lady…” He bowed to Eliza before turning to bound up the steps to Rudman’s lair. Franklin followed in his footsteps.

Now that help had arrived, Eliza had no intention of telling Henley to escort her home. Instead, she instructed him to continue holding the horses while she slipped around the side of the house to listen under the windows to see if she could determine what was happening. Fortunately, although Henley looked as though he wanted to object, he knew he had no authority to do so, and he merely nodded.

The alley was rather smelly, and Eliza had to watch where she was walking for fear of stepping into a pile of something she didn’t try to identify, but she was soon standing under the windows of the room where she’d so recently been held captive. Unfortunately, listen as she might, all she could detect was a muted mumbling of words.

She’d just about decided to give up and rejoin Henley when she heard a faint noise from farther down the alleyway. Startled, she took a step back toward the street but paused when she saw Blanche Lawton slipping through a side door near the rear of the building.

The two women stared at each other for a few seconds. Was Blanche trying to escape? Eliza wondered. But apparently not. Holding her chin high, she walked a few paces until she faced Eliza. When she spoke, her tone was scathing.

“You must be quite proud of yourself. You’ve managed to snare one of the most eligible men in all of England. No wonder you weren’t willing to settle for poor old Underhill.”

There was no use in trying to explain that she’d never encouraged Underhill in any way, that in fact their sole interaction had consisted of one dance, and he had asked her father for her hand without once indicating to her that he wanted to marry her. Miss Lawton probably wouldn’t be comforted to hear that Underhill had merely sought a wife whose dowry would help pay his gambling debts.

“Where are you going?” Eliza asked.

Blanche’s lip curled. “Not with Rudman, that’s for certain. I listened to the conversation inside long enough to determine that he’s going to be living the rest of his miserable life somewhere other than England.”

“What about the others?”

“Them, too, of course. Either that or face the wrath of your husband. Thus, they’ve all chosen to spend the remainder of their lives on the continent.”

“What will you do?” Eliza asked.

Blanche shrugged. “There’s more than one man in London who has asked me to become his mistress, but I’ve decided to travel to Bath. There’s no reason I can’t persuade some old codger to marry me if I play the role of demure lady well enough.”

Eliza doubted Blanche could appear demure if she tried, but she was wise enough not to say so. She merely nodded.

Blanche held her gaze for a minute, then shrugged. “I doubt we’ll meet again. I hope not, but in any case, just be aware that I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.” With those parting words, she turned and hurried back the way she’d come, slipping out of the alley and into the shadow of the mews at the back of the house.

Eliza stood a few seconds, pondering how some people appeared to hug hatred to their breast like a precious heirloom. Then she turned back to the street. She had no doubt that Blanche Lawton had ceased to be a danger to her or else Chamberly would never have allowed her to leave.

It was then she realized that the voices from inside had ceased, so she lifted her skirt and made a dash for the front of the house. Soon she was standing beside Henley, who still held the horses, and seconds later, her husband, his valet, and his two friends exited the house.

Although Chamberly’s eyes widened when he saw her standing there, he immediately smiled. “Ah, my dear, I’d expected you to be gone, but then of course Henley couldn’t escort you and hold the horses at the same time. I’m glad you’re here, because now you can ride home with me.”

Eliza returned his smile. She had no intention of asking what had taken place inside that house after she left, nor did she intend to tell him about her conversation with Blanche Lawton. Her sisters had advised her that some things were best kept to oneself to preserve peace in a marriage, and she suspected this was one time her sisters’ advice would apply.

She flashed her most charming smile. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll be more than happy to go home with you.”

Chapter Eleven

Chamberly had been grateful for Eliza’s silence as he tooled the curricle back toward their residence. He’d expected a lot of questions from her, questions he didn’t particularly want to answer. In fact, what he really wanted was time alone to examine his feelings for his wife. The realization that he’d fallen in love with her had blindsided him, and while he admitted that she deserved to know how he felt, he wasn’t sure how to voice it.

But those concerns would have to be addressed later. As soon as he pulled the curricle to a halt in front of the town house, he turned to Eliza. “I’m sorry I can’t come inside with you now, my dear, but unfortunately, I still have work to do. Our enemies have chosen to leave the country rather than face criminal charges, and there are details that must be handled this afternoon.”

The tenderness in Eliza’s answering smile sent tendrils of desire rushing toward his cock, and he longed to pull her into a passionate embrace, but of course the time wasn’t right. “I hope to be home before too late this evening. Will you wait up for me?”

Her smile widened. “I’ll be waiting for you whenever you arrive.”

He liked the sound of that and would have risked a quick kiss had not one of the footmen already come outside to help Eliza alight. Instead he simply squeezed her hand and then waited until she’d disappeared into the house before setting his horses in motion again.

He’d left Garett, Jerome, and Franklin in charge of dealing with Rudman, Mayhew, and Arthur Ingleman, all of whom would be passengers on a ship leaving England the following morning. As it turned out, the pockfaced woman was Mayhew’s lover, and Chamberly had agreed that she could go along. In fact, he’d insisted on it.

Chamberly’s self-imposed chore for the afternoon was to ensure that Rudman left sufficient funds behind in England to care for his invalid wife. Chamberly didn’t want the suffering of another innocent female on his conscience.

After managing that task, he hunted up his friends to offer any assistance they might need. Fortunately, they had already made the necessary arrangements with a ship’s captain, who had accepted responsibility for ensuring his four new passengers did not leave their cabins before the ship left port the next morning. Still, Jerome and Garett insisted on taking turns keeping watch on deck that night. Because he knew them so well, Chamberly had no doubt that they’d be there to watch the ship depart at dawn the next day.

All of which freed him to go back home and spend the night with his wife. Strangely enough, the prospect filled him with both anticipation and dread. He’d never before made love to a woman he loved so desperately.

And he did love Eliza. He’d possibly loved her from that night he’d discovered her at his aunt’s ball and become aware of just how brave she really was. He remembered feeling a sense of relief that he was compelled to offer for her because of what had happened between them.

But how did she feel about him? He’d practically forced the marriage on her, claiming she needed him to keep her safe. Then somehow he’d failed even to do that.

Come to think of it, he didn’t yet know how she’d ended up in Rudman’s hands earlier today. A flicker of annoyance chased away part of his guilt. He’d emphasized to Eliza just how dangerous her enemies were and how careful she must be to ensure her safety.

What had happened? He intended to find out as soon as he set foot in the house. And he was more than happy to toss his reins to a waiting groom and climb down off the curricle. While it was a fashionable ride, it lacked a degree of comfort found in more cumbersome carriages.

He paused outside to draw in a deep breath of the warm evening air. Soon the city would be insufferably hot, but by that time, he hoped to have moved most of his household to the country. He looked forward to showing his country estate to Eliza and introducing her to his neighbors.

But first he wanted to find out exactly what had led to her abduction earlier today.

He squared his shoulders and hurried up the front steps. A footman swung the door open and stepped back. A cacophony of voices rushed out to greet him.

“What in Hades?” He stepped inside and turned to the footman. “Are we hosting a party tonight, James?”

“No, my lord. At least, I wouldn’t guess you’d call it a party. Her ladyship’s family is visiting.”

“Ah!” Chamberly supposed he should have guessed and no doubt would have done so had he not been so tired. “How long have they been here?”

“Pssst.”

The hissing came from a nearby doorway. Raising his brows, Chamberly strode across the entry hall and stepped into the library. “Agatha! What are you doing here? Is something amiss?”

The maid shook her head. “Just that my mistress wanted me to intercept you and ask you to say nothing in front of her family about what happened this afternoon. She doesn’t want them to know she was in danger.”

“How could they not know something untoward happened when she apparently was taken from her mother’s house?”

“She told me she was visiting with her mother when the butler brought her a message that had just been delivered for her. The message instructed her to write a note to me saying she wouldn’t be home for a while. Then she was told to make her excuses to her mother and get into a carriage that would be waiting outside for her.”

“Why in the name of all that’s holy would she do that?”

Agatha shook her head. “I couldn’t say, my lord. Whatever was said in that note made her do it, but she didn’t tell me what it was.”

Chamberly blew his breath out in a long sigh. “I’m rather tired, Agatha, and not in the mood for company, I’m afraid. My valet has been detained elsewhere, so I wonder if you would see to it that water for a bath is delivered to my chamber.”

She dropped a quick curtsy. “Of course, my lord.” She turned and hurried toward the back of the house while Chamberly wearily climbed the stairs leading toward the bedchambers.

His bath behind him, he slipped into a dressing gown and stretched out on top of the bed to wait for Eliza. Before anything else, he intended to ask her why she’d gotten into that carriage, knowing the danger.

He yawned, and his eyes drifted shut. He forced them open. He needed to talk to Eliza and he was determined not to fall asleep before her family left and she joined him in their chambers.

He awoke two hours later when the mattress sagged and a familiar hand slipped under the edge of his dressing gown and began caressing his chest. He almost reacted as he would have during the war, by rolling onto his side and slamming his elbow into the intruder’s throat.

He’d already started the maneuver before he became awake enough to realize he wasn’t in the field but rather in his own bed and the intruder was not an enemy but his wife. Her fragrance, which he’d grown to love, seeped into his bloodstream and carried desire straight to his cock, which came to life with a vengeance.

He groaned and allowed that small hand to push him onto his back again. “Shhh,” she said before raising herself onto her elbows and leaning over him until her lips were situated right above his. “Just lie there and let me kiss you.”

He stifled another groan when her warm breath caressed his lips as she lowered her torso onto his chest. Her breasts flattened themselves against him and her nipples, already taut, impressed themselves against his skin. What a pleasant surprise to discover that she was already naked.

She initiated the kiss by first outlining his lips with her tongue, then thrusting it into his mouth. The fact that she was far from expert only fueled his desire. His tongue met her thrust in a barely controlled caress, but she immediately pulled back.

“Lie still,” she commanded while running her hand down his chest and over his stomach. When she wrapped her hand around his pulsing cock, he moaned with pleasure, then reached for her, intending to pull her down into another kiss, but she evaded him. Within seconds she had loosened the tie holding his dressing gown and pushed it open. Before he knew what she intended to do, she’d taken his cock into her mouth, something she’d never done before. When she began moving up and down on him, he knew that whatever her wishes might be, he had to get his hands on her.

Because she was on her knees, he merely grasped her feet and pulled them toward his head. When she came down on her side, he insinuated a hand between her knees and gently urged her to open for him.

Still holding him in her velvety mouth, she looked at him and their gazes locked. His breath was so short, he was barely able to speak. “Let me make you come while you’re still holding me in your mouth, love,” he murmured. “Let me touch your pussy.”

First her eyes widened but then she slowly raised one knee so that she lay open for him. He eased a hand up her thigh until his fingers encountered the soft curls shielding her mound. When he slipped a finger between her folds and found her already creamy and slick, his heart felt as though it swelled almost double.

How could he have come to love this woman so much in such a short time?

But there was no time to consider the answer to that question. She’d begun moving her mouth up and down on him again with her head angled in such a way that she could watch his face. Thrilled to have her mouth on him while she allowed him access to her pussy, he began caressing her in the fashion he already knew she enjoyed most.

When her hips began moving in concert with the motions of his hand, he increased the pressure and then, when her breath started coming in gasps, he moved his fingertip to the bundle of nerves that always gave her the greatest pleasure. Just half a minute of teasing her nubbin had her lifting her hips completely off the bed as she built toward her orgasm.

Then it hit her and her mouth wrapped even more tightly around his cock while her hips pumped and pumped and pumped. Her moans of pleasure brought Chamberly to the brink, but he wasn’t ready for their activities to end just yet.

He sat up, grasped her shoulders, and pulled her away from his cock and back down onto the bed with him. He waited until her gasps had leveled off before he sought her mouth with his while bringing his right hand up to cup her left breast. She moaned again when he rolled her nipple between his fingers, and her hand again moved downward to wrap around his cock.

He grabbed onto the remnants of his self-control and transferred his mouth from her lips to her breast, flicking his tongue across the nipple until it stood straight and taut. He then gently loosened her hand, freeing his cock before he embarrassed himself, and pushed her flat against the bed so he could service her right breast too. He suckled one nipple while teasing the other with his fingers.

Within seconds, her breath was quickening, and he knew from experience that he would soon be able to make her come again. He positioned himself between her knees and lubricated the end of his cock in the juices that her pussy still pumped out.

When he slid into her, sensations rocked him, reminding him that he’d never experienced feelings this strong with any other woman. Whatever was between him and Eliza was surely unique.

He longed to tell her that he loved her, but for the first time in his life, fear of consequences held him back. What would he do if his words frightened Eliza? Or, even worse, if she found his emotions embarrassing?

Not willing to risk upsetting his wife by declaring his love, he decided instead to express his feelings through his actions. Knowing how much she enjoyed his mouth on her mound, he pulled his cock out of her pussy.

Then, before she had time to ask what he was doing, he grasped her knees, spread her legs wide, and lowered himself until he could run his tongue along the outer edges of her nether lips.

He heard her moan with pleasure and wanted only to bring her more pleasure. “Hold yourself open for me, love,” he said, then froze in horror. Would his words take her back to that horrible night when she’d been forced her to hold her pussy open for him against her will? Was his desire to please her instead calling up memories that must still haunt her?

He sighed with relief when she responded with a note of anticipation in her voice. “Gladly,” she murmured as she spread her legs farther apart and reached with her hands to open herself to him.

He started slowly, avoiding her nubbin because he wanted to draw out the pleasure. But his wife had her own ideas about their lovemaking. When her pussy began to quiver and her hips to move in conjunction with the motions of his tongue, she transferred her hands from her pussy to his head so she could push him away.

“Inside me,” she gasped. “I want you inside me so we can come together.”

Touched that she’d think of them as a couple in that moment when her body was surely telling her to let go and enjoy her climax, he paused long enough to plant kisses on her stomach and breasts before thrusting his cock into her deliciously moist pussy.

“Ah, yes,” she murmured as he entered her. Then she began moving with him, her hips rising to meet his as each worked toward bringing the other pleasure.

And pleasure wasn’t long in coming. When he felt her climaxing, as her inner muscles tightened around his cock, he allowed himself to surrender to the urges of his body. She tightened her legs around him as he pumped his seed into her.

Minutes later, when they lay in each other’s arms, fully sated and relaxed while their sweat-slicked bodies slowly cooled, Chamberly remembered that he’d intended to stay awake long enough to ask Eliza about that afternoon. She still, he believed, owed him some sort of explanation.

“Eliza?”

“Mmmm?”

He realized she was on the verge of going to sleep so he shook her. “Don’t go to sleep. I want to know what was in that missive this afternoon that caused you to get into a carriage that you surely knew presented a danger to you.”

She stirred a bit, then sighed. “The letter was signed ‘Mr. Cockington’. He had paid an urchin to deliver it. He said in the letter that I should write a note and give it to the urchin to deliver. I was to address it to Agatha and explain that I wouldn’t be home for a few hours. After telling my mother you’d sent the coach to pick me up, I was to go outside and get into the waiting carriage.”

“But why would you do it?”

“He said he was holding you captive.”

Chamberly’s good mood evaporated. “And you were foolish enough to believe that?”

“Of course not. I felt sure you were too intelligent to allow yourself to be abducted. I also knew you would rescue me. That’s why I got into the carriage.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“We needed to know who Mr. Cockington really was and then get rid of him before we could relax and enjoy our lives. After all, I didn’t want to live forever looking over my shoulder. I knew if I got into that carriage, there was a good chance we’d discover the identities of our enemies and you could disarm them permanently. And as you know, that’s exactly what happened, so it worked out just as I had hoped.”

“Am I to understand that you thought through all of this before you allowed yourself to be taken again?”

“Of course. I even hinted to Agatha that I had been abducted when I suggested she visit with her Mr. Henley again. I felt sure she’d make the connection to the day Abby disappeared for a few hours. And she did.”

Chamberly’s fury was growing in direct proportion to Eliza’s seemingly cavalier attitude toward the jeopardy inherent in her actions. “Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

She raised her head off his shoulder and frowned down at him. “Why do you keep harping about the danger? I was in no real danger. I knew you’d come to my rescue, and you did. Now we’re free of our enemies, so my plan worked.”

“You had that much confidence in my ability to save you?” Chamberly was nearly stunned by the level of her faith in him.

“Of course. I have no doubt that you are far braver and more intelligent than those pathetic creatures who thought they could best you. And I’m not just saying that because I love you.”

Chamberly’s irritation with his wife instantly dissipated. “You love me?”

“Of course I do. And I suspect you return my regard. Do you not?”

He took a deep breath. Even now, when he knew she would welcome hearing him say he loved her, expressing the emotion was going to require more courage—or at least courage of a different sort—than he’d exhibited to date.

However, she had complete faith in him, and he wasn’t brave enough to live with himself if he let her down. He grasped every particle of resolution that existed within him and voiced the words. “Yes, I do love you.”

There, that hadn’t been so bad, so he decided to elaborate. “I love you more than I ever dreamed possible to love a woman. You’ve become the center of my world, the reason I get out of bed in the mornings, the delight of my life.”

“Oh my,” Eliza murmured. “I doubt you can even imagine how much those words mean to me.”

His tone was half teasing, half serious. “Then why don’t you tell me?”

She grinned. “Suffice it to say that I now feel sure I’m never going to regret the choices I’ve made where our marriage is concerned. In fact, I’d like to practice one of those choices right now if you’re willing.” Her hand slipped over his stomach and curled around his reawakening cock.

Contentment such as he’d never experienced before filled him, convincing him that whatever choices he and Eliza made in the future would be ones they’d both enjoy. “Believe me, my love,” he said, “I’m ready, willing, and will soon be able.”

And they laughed together as the dawn of a new day brightened the sky outside their chamber window.

About the Author

Meta Mathews is the pseudonym for an award-winning romance author. Meta enjoys writing in various subgenres, including traditional contemporary and Regency. Writing erotica is a new adventure for her, and she sincerely hopes you enjoy her stories.

Meta welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Meta Mathews

Lady Amberly’s Lessons

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