The Bedding Proposal Part 27

As for her staff, a note could be sent to London so they would not worry when she didn't return. And it was only one night. She rather doubted she would be needing any night attire, not if Leo had any say in the matter.

"Yes," she sighed against his lips. "Let's stay."

Leo awakened hours later, tired but replete. A narrow band of sunlight crept under the sheer draperies, casting the bedroom in a gentle gloaming. At his side, Thalia was slumbering deeply, her head pillowed next to his, one of her legs bent upward between his own.

He considered rousing her. Now that she was becoming accustomed to his touch, she was amazingly responsive. A few pa.s.sionate kisses, some well-placed strokes and caresses, and her body came alive, instinctively craving the pleasure it hungered for, even if Thalia herself was still learning exactly how to deal with the depths of her newfound desire.

Curious, but when he'd started his pursuit of her, he'd a.s.sumed she would be the more knowledgeable one when it came to s.e.x. But in spite of being several years her junior, he was the one teaching her. The one leading her down unexplored paths of sensuality, paths that surprised and delighted-and, yes, shocked-her with the breadth of their power and the completeness of the satisfaction they gave.

Yet he was learning too, taking pleasure from her pleasure, testing boundaries of physicality and need that surprised even him.

And they'd barely even begun their affair. If he could find such extraordinary union with her after only two days, just think what the next weeks would bring.

His shaft stiffened, aching with renewed longing despite the night they'd just spent.

He ought to be exhausted. Instead, he wanted her again.

It would be easy to slide her thigh up and over his hip so she would wake to find him buried thick and deep inside her as he tupped her awake.

He groaned at the very idea, his shaft pulsing with need.

But he'd worked her hard during the night, exactly as promised, taking her repeatedly before he'd shown her another new position that had left her screaming with wild release into her pillow.

She'd sunk into a heavy sleep afterward and he'd followed, holding her close.

But now he was awake again.

Hungry for her again.

He could wait, though, for a little while at least.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself to concentrate on sleep rather than his throbbing s.e.x. He was just drifting off nearly twenty minutes later when a soft knock came at the door.

Scowling, he opened his eyes. Careful not to wake Thalia, he rose from the bed. He pulled on his trousers and s.h.i.+rt, leaving the latter only partially b.u.t.toned, then padded barefoot to the door. He found the caretaker's wife waiting on the other side.

"Sorry to awaken you, my lord," she said, keeping her eyes at a respectful level, "but this just arrived from London by messenger. He said it were urgent, so I thought it best not to delay."

Leo took the note. "Quite right. Thank you for bringing it directly to me."

"Shall I put on some tea for you and the lady?" she asked helpfully.

"Not yet. I'll ring should we require anything." Murmuring his thanks once again, he shut the door.

Turning, he broke open the wax seal and began to read. When he had done, he shook his head, unsure whether to laugh or groan. Keeping as quiet as possible, he went to don the rest of his clothes.

Thalia drifted awake to the quiet scratching of what sounded like pen on paper. She forced her eyelids to lift. "Leo?" she said on a whisper.

He stood across the room in front of a small writing desk. He was also fully dressed.

She called his name again.

This time he heard her and turned his head her way. "I'm sorry. I was hoping you'd keep sleeping. I was just writing you a note."

She squinted. "Why?"

"I have to leave immediately for London. My brother Lawrence has landed himself in a bit of a fix and needs my help."

"Oh," she said, pus.h.i.+ng her hair away from her face as she tried to shake off her sleepiness. "Is he all right?"

"Yes. At least I think so. I guess I'll find out for sure once I get there."

"Where is there?"

"The Giltspur Street Compter."

"What?" She sat up, the sheets falling to her waist. She s.n.a.t.c.hed them back up to cover her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Your brother is in gaol?"

"So it would appear."

"I shall go with you."

"No, you stay and sleep some more," he said, meeting her eyes. "You must be tired after the night we had."

A sudden warmth curled inside her at the reminder, but she didn't look away. "I am a bit weary, but I'll never be able to fall back to sleep now. Besides, how will I get to London if you leave?"

"I shall return to pick you up, of course."

She gave a small shake of her head. "Who knows how long you will be occupied with your brother? You could be away for hours. No, I shall come with you now."

His golden brown eyebrows drew together in thought. "I suppose I could drop you at your town house first, then go on from there."

"Lord Lawrence would not thank me for the delay. I shall accompany you to the gaol. You can take me home afterward."

He scowled. "Gaol is no place for a lady."

"I'll wait outside."

"In Giltspur Street? I think not."

"No one will accost me, but if you are worried, then I shall accompany you inside. I find myself rather curious to see the inside of a gaol."

"Don't be. They are miserable places."

"Then we must stop arguing and hurry to get Lawrence released. Now, hand me my s.h.i.+ft, please."

His jaw worked as if he was deciding which of several reb.u.t.tals to make. Instead, he walked across to a nearby chair, picked up her undergarment and handed it to her.

"Turn around," she said, suddenly viscerally aware that she once again had nothing on while he was fully dressed.

He gave her a disbelieving look. "I have seen you naked, you know."

"I know." She kept hold of the sheet covering her. "Now turn around."

He laughed. "You're being ridiculous."

"And you are wasting time. Pst-pst." She made a turning motion with her fingers.

"Fine," he said after a moment, "but I want a kiss first."

"There isn't time."

He approached, then bent down, taking her face between his hands. "There is always time for a kiss."

Then his mouth was on hers, moving with a leisurely yet determined intensity that sizzled through her like a blistering summer heat. His fingers slid into her hair, ma.s.saging her scalp as he kissed her harder.

"We should stop," she said on a breathless gasp. "Your brother-"

"Isn't going anywhere." He smoothed a hand down her arm. "What's another few minutes?"

"Your brother might disagree. Leo, he needs your help."

But her body wished he didn't.

Leo pressed another kiss to her lips, then sighed and eased away. "Put your s.h.i.+ft on," he said gruffly. "I'll act as your lady's maid with the rest."

Straightening, he turned his back.

Chapter 23.

Beyond the heavy doors of the Giltspur Street Compter, the air smelled of vomit, urine and rank, unwashed bodies. Misery seemed etched into the very walls of the place, human suffering everywhere to be seen inside its shadowy confines.

Yet, as Leo knew, this was nothing compared with the sheer brutality that awaited those unlucky souls scheduled for transfer to the larger, nearby house of incarceration-Newgate Prison. That was where the ma.s.ses of accused mixed with the worst sorts of criminals-the murderers, thieves and rapists who would likely swing from Tyburn Tree once their trials decreed their fate. Luckily for Lawrence, Giltspur was for lesser, petty crimes or for those who could not pay their debts.

As a barrister, Lawrence usually visited such places to provide counsel to inmates, not the other way around. Clearly, he hadn't been able to argue his way out-although perhaps he'd found himself too embarra.s.sed to try.

"Still glad you decided to accompany me?" Leo asked Thalia, who stood at his side with a handkerchief over her nose. "Has your curiosity been satisfied yet?"

Her brown eyes met his own knowing gaze. Resolutely, she tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket. "It is not something I will soon forget. Let us find Lord Lawrence and be gone from here."

Leo hid a wry grin and followed after the turnkey, who had already received his fee for performing his duty. In fact everyone who worked here demanded some kind of payment-usually from the prisoners themselves, who found that the more they could afford to pay, the better their accommodations.

Lawrence must have run out of funds, Leo realized, as he and Thalia were led to a rather middling sort of cell.

A couple of prisoners called to them as they pa.s.sed, one reaching out with grubby fingers, trying to touch the edge of Thalia's skirt. He laughed when she jumped and sidled closer to Leo, who wrapped a protective arm around her waist.

Before Leo could tongue-lash the fellow for his impudence, the turnkey struck the man's knuckles through the bars with the long stick he carried. The inmate howled in pain and disappeared back into his cell.

"Sorry 'bout tha', milady. Milord," the turnkey said as he led them farther along the corridor. "Can't remember last time we had Quality come visitin'. Makes the others restive." He stopped in front of a cell door. "Here we be. Ye say he's yer brother, do ye?"

Leo peered through the bars to the figure who sat hunched on a wooden stool. The prisoner turned his head and met Leo's eyes with ones that were so like his own.

Or rather with one eye, Leo saw, since Lawrence's other was black and swollen shut. Lawrence had a cut lip, another cut along his left cheekbone and a purple bruise that ran the length of his jaw. With his hair mussed and face unshaven, he looked a proper ruffian, rather than his normally well-groomed self. His silk waistcoat was missing, and his jacket and formerly white linen s.h.i.+rt were both ripped and dirty. His trousers had fared slightly better, but not by much. And he still had his boots.

The turnkey blinked and stared between the two of them. "Well, I'll be deuced. Ye two look jus' alike, 'cept fer tha bruises. Guess he is yer kin."

"He is," Leo said in a grave voice. "Open this door at once."

"That'll be an extra two farthings ter let ye go inside," the turnkey stated. His dark eyes widened when he met the glare Leo turned upon him. The older man swallowed nervously.

Leo reached into his jacket and withdrew half a crown. "Tell the sheriff I expect my brother, Lord Lawrence, to be released within the hour whatever the charges. I shall pay any outstanding fines."

The other man goggled, then gave a nod, s.n.a.t.c.hing the coin from Leo's fingers. "I'll tell 'im."

Hands trembling, the gaoler jangled his heavy iron ring of keys, found the one he wanted and inserted it into the lock of Lawrence's cell.

Moments later, Leo and Thalia stepped inside.

The door locked behind them, the turnkey hurrying away.

Lawrence stood and came forward. "Leo, thank G.o.d. I wasn't sure if my note had reached you. They're a pack of leeches in here, wanting money for every conceivable thing. Had to trade my gold cravat pin just for the paper, ink and quill. My waistcoat went for the messenger fee. I was afraid I'd have to sell my coat soon if you didn't arrive."

"Well, I'm here now. What in Hades' name happened to you?"

"Long story. Let's just say Northcote got me out on the town drinking last night. We ended up in a rather unsavory dockside pub, then into a brawl with some nasty toughs. All h.e.l.l broke loose and somehow I ended up here. Northcote's a wild b.a.s.t.a.r.d when he fights. Is he here, do you know?"

"I don't. Let's get you released first. Then we can sort out the rest. Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No. It's mostly just cuts and bruises and a sore rib or two. I've had worse."

Leo nodded, remembering well all the worse things Lawrence had suffered over the years.

At his side, Thalia made a compa.s.sionate tsk low in her throat.

At the sound, Lawrence looked past Leo's shoulder. "Lady Thalia. My pardon for not greeting you immediately. And for my earlier cursing. My manners are somewhat lacking at present, as is my attire."

She sent him a rea.s.suring smile. "That's quite all right, Lord Lawrence. These are rather unusual circ.u.mstances, after all. I think a bit of foul language can be excused. And without a valet, the state of your clothing cannot be faulted either."

He smiled, likely for the first time since he'd been tossed inside this cell.