2Rakehell (8 page)

She flinched as he chucked her under the chin. “See you at
dinner, sweeting?”

She jerked and straightened to her full height, which still
only resulted in bringing the top of her head to his chin. “I’ll be having
supper with my husband. In his room. Who knows? I might even have cause for yet
another bath.” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Adam’s slight grin.
“Now if you’ll excuse me I must see the earl’s well-being.”

Pushing her skirt back, she stepped around him and hurried
down the hallway. She couldn’t get away from Benedict fast enough. Oh why did
he make her skin crawl so? He was not unlike Adam in his forcefulness so why
did she find it so arousing when Adam reduced her to submission? She would have
never surrendered to Benedict. Never!

Willing her pulse to return to normal, she collected herself
before she stole into Thorley’s room. He was awake and as soon as he saw her he
began reaching for her.

Irene darted out of her chair and offered him his tincture.
“He’s been having a fit all day. Quite incoherent.”

Primrose sat on the side of the bed and tried to take his
hand but he grasped it desperately. “Is there something you need?”

He mumbled, unable to form words. She wished she could
understand, ease his suffering. It was a good thing she’d retrieved Adam when she
did.

“Did Lord Lashwood upset him?” she asked Irene.

“No my lady. Not a ’tall.” Irene’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“He’s been like this ever since his lordship visited this morning.”

“I see,” Primrose said, her heart sinking. She’d hoped a
reunion would ease both their consciences.

It appeared to have had the opposite effect. But what could
she do about it now? She didn’t want Adam to go away again. On the contrary she
couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

Primrose hurried toward the dining room. She’d overslept and
hated the thought of attracting attention with a late entrance despite the fact
breakfast at Scarborough Hall had always been an informal event. Stopping at
the entrance she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Dear cousin,” Benedict’s voice sang behind her.

She jolted as he suddenly appeared beside her, stealthy as a
cat.

“My, aren’t you rising later than usual?” The lilting banter
in his voice shattered her attempts at composure. “That extra rest has done
wonders for you. You’re positively radiant.”

The man was insufferable! Her fists clenched so hard her
nails dug into her palms.

His gaze raked her. “Exhausting isn’t it?” he whispered
conspiratorially.

She arched an eyebrow in question.

He leaned closer. “A bird in the spanking hand is worth two
in the bush.”

Primrose gasped. “How—” She stopped before incriminating
herself further. Her cheeks flamed, betraying her secret far more than words
ever could. “I thought you’d gone.”

“On the contrary,” he said, opening the door for her. “Why
leave when there’s so much…amusement…here at Scarborough Hall?” With mock
gallantry, he moved to the side to allow Primrose to enter the dining room.

Hamish and Adam rose as she stepped inside. Adam’s eyes were
unreadable and she couldn’t sort out how he felt about her or his cousin’s
presence. Or if the hateful bastard had regaled Benedict with the details of
the things they’d done. Wasn’t that just like a man?

Still, her stomach knotted when their eyes connected.

“Good morning,” Fidelis chirped, twisting in her seat to
welcome them. Her dark-brown, almost lashless eyes sparkled at the sight of
Benedict. “I’m so glad you decided to stay with us for a few days.” She offered
him her hand, which he courteously took, and when he bowed to kiss the back of
it she giggled like a schoolgirl.

Primrose hoped they didn’t notice the tension between Adam
and her. It was taut as a bowstring about to snap and after that episode with
Benedict there was no possible way she could appear dispassionate.

As she scooped a ladleful of coddled eggs onto her plate,
she realized she didn’t give a fig what Hamish and Fidelis thought. Benedict
either for that matter. Hiding her true feelings from Adam however was imperative.

She glanced at him as she mindlessly filled her plate with
deviled fowl and dry hash. He’d returned to his seat and looked over the
morning paper as he sipped a cup of coffee.

He apparently had little trouble hiding his emotions—if he
possessed any at all.

She should give up on this scheme. He’d seen his father.
She’d done her duty to the earl. She need not throw herself so shamefully at
him only to be cast aside yet again.

A servant stepped up to draw her chair out for her.
Muttering her gratitude, she sat.

“How long do you think you’ll be about?” Benedict asked from
the sideboard, his question directed at Adam.

Primrose’s breath froze as Adam’s gaze grazed hers before he
turned toward his cousin. “As long as is necessary.”

Benedict’s lips stretched into a dreadfully diabolical
smile. “Oh I imagine if Primrose has any say in the matter it’ll be a while indeed.”

“Indeed,” Adam muttered and turned back to his paper.

Primrose’s heart sank but she hid the setback by shooting
Benedict a nasty look. He sat back in his chair and smugly sipped his coffee.

“Aren’t you feeling any better?” Fidelis asked, her forehead
furrowing with concern. “You’re terribly pale.”

Before she could answer Hamish blurted, “She must not be.
She’s asked Grainger to look after things for a few days.”

Again she looked to Adam but he remained mired in the news.

Benedict chuckled softly as he took his seat.

“Grainger?” Fidelis echoed, eyes widening. “Well you must be
ill.” She turned to Benedict. “Primrose never lies abed. I daresay this house
couldn’t run without her.”

“You give me far too much credit,” Primrose said as she
picked at her breakfast. Why had she filled her plate so full? She had no
appetite.

The conversation turned to the war between the Spanish and
the Americans and though Primrose usually took an interest in politics, she
couldn’t concentrate on anything but Adam’s command for her to join him after
breakfast.

Thus far this morning he’d given her no indication he even
recalled his request. He’d long since finished his meal but sat casually
discussing the articles in the paper with Benedict and Hamish. Fidelis tried
repeatedly to inject her uninformed opinion and was summarily ignored by all
three men.

Finally Primrose turned her fork upside down on her plate. A
servant swept forward to take it.

She stood and, summoning courage, cleared her throat. “My
lord, would you care to join me in a visit to the earl?”

He stood as did Hamish and Benedict, but his gaze barely met
hers. “I’ll be along later.”

Disappointment caused her toes to curl in her slippers but
she refused to show it. Instead she flashed them all a smile. “Good day.” With
a nod she hurried from the room.

Breakfast had been every bit the horrendous affair she’d
thought it would be. Benedict had known—he’d known—the things she’d allowed
Adam to do to her. No gentleman would have ever let on. Then again Benedict was
exactly that. No gentleman.

Had Adam confided in Benedict?

Trying to push her anger aside, she visited Thorley who was
still abed and resting peacefully. Determining nothing had changed she went
back to her chamber.

Her traitorous body tingled and she growled in frustration.
She should dismiss Grainger and attend to her duties. She shouldn’t act as if
Adam would remember. She clenched her fists. She shouldn’t care if he
remembered.

Now that a new day had dawned she’d regained whatever
semblance of common sense she still possessed.

She regarded the door connecting their chambers and then
started for her own door, intent on taking back her duties from Grainger. Just
as she reached for the knob she heard Adam in the hallway.

“Yes, Midge, is it? Her ladyship and I shall not be needing
your services for the rest of the day.”

Primrose held her breath as she listened to the sound of his
door opening then closing. Her trembling hand hovered over the knob. “Oh
blast,” she cursed under her breath as she whirled and stormed into his room
through the connecting door.

For a scant two seconds he seemed surprised but then his
eyes hardened as he appraised her from head to toe. “My dear, I daresay you’re
a bit new to this to be asking for punishment.”

Fists clenched at her sides, she stalked toward him. “You
told him, didn’t you?”

His dark brows brooded lower in question.

Shaking, she released a torrent of accusation upon him. “Of
all the awful things you’ve done… Really? To tell him of all people what
transpired between us…” She didn’t stop until she was toe-to-toe with him. “You
saw for yourself the way he talks to me, takes liberties with me. Honestly I
hoped you’d keep this between us.” She gestured around the room wildly.

Angry as she was she couldn’t deny the way being this close
to him intoxicated her. Her pulse hummed. Her stomach clenched and warmth
pooled in all the wrong places.

A furrow that made him look far too adorable formed over the
bridge of his nose. “Are you insinuating I’ve confided in someone that I
spanked your lovely bottom yesterday?”

Scorching heat raced up her spine and settled in the back of
her neck. “That and more.”

Realization transformed his frown into mirth. Amusement
glittered in his eyes. “Darling Primrose, are you referring to my cousin?”

Her heart beat as fast as a rabbit’s and no amount of
reasoning would calm it. She forced herself to hold his gaze. “You know damn
well to whom I’m referring.”

Cradling her face in one hand he brushed his thumb dotingly
over her cheek. She wanted to melt into his arms, to offer herself up to him
like a sacrificial lamb. Perspiration broke out along her spine and in the
confines of her stays, making her ache for the freedom of casting her clothing
aside.

“Don’t you know?” he asked, his voice but a silken caress
that threatened to beguile her. “It’s in your eyes. Anyone experienced in the
art of domination can see it.”

“See what?” She wanted to squirm. Away from him. Against
him. Mercy, why was she so confused? Her insides felt tangled and twisted.

“That you’re practically begging to submit, that you need
it, want it. Crave it.” He moved closer, pressing dangerously into her skirts.

She tried to swallow but couldn’t. “You didn’t tell him?”
Curses, but she wanted to stay mad at him! Her already feeble resistance melted
with every lingering sweep of his thumb on her skin. She whimpered.

“Of course not. In spite of our…relationship…this thing
between us requires absolute trust. I would never betray you. Especially not to
him.” His words left her confused. “Benedict knew what you were even before I
recognized it. I would imagine that’s why he sought to marry you.”

“But I…I didn’t know myself until yesterday.”

He chuckled. “Didn’t you? Because I knew the moment you
watched me with Lady Beckham overly long.”

She averted her gaze. Was she that transparent? That easy to
read?

His touch fell away and any tenderness in him hardened. He
took a step back. “Now to the matter at hand. Why are you still wearing
clothes?”

He spun on his heel, strode to an oxblood armchair and sat.
Primrose’s lips parted in shock.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he chastised. “I told you what to
expect. Now strip.”

Every inch of her body warmed. For several seconds she
debated refusing him. The inner deliberation continued even as she began
unfastening the endless row of tiny buttons running the length of her bodice.

“Faster,” he ordered.

Her fingers shook so dreadfully she feared she’d disappoint
him. What was this need to please him? To bend so readily to his every command?
She couldn’t comprehend it but already that feeling, the one she couldn’t
describe or define, started to come over her. It was as if her very blood had
begun to thicken, as if some inner space inside her expanded. Her mind went so
easily to that place where it relaxed and surrendered to the physical—to Adam.

She shrugged free of her bodice.

“Drop it,” he said.

She obeyed then untied the drawstring holding up her skirt
and the other that anchored her petticoat and bustle. Already she sensed that
elusive freedom she’d come to know only yesterday. A part of her understood
Adam’s lure toward opium because one day had doomed her to sate this
indescribable yearning to abandon all control, to subject herself fully to
Adam’s will.

As she continued the labor-intensive process of shedding
layer upon layer of her clothing she occasionally glanced at Adam. The way his
gaze moved over her thrilled her and filled her with the desire to prolong even
this tedious task.

Once she’d stripped down to her pantalets, stockings and
stays he uncrossed his legs and then crossed them again. “Look at you, naughty
girl.”

Her pulse ran riot as he stood, walked to his wardrobe and
drew open the door, the inside of which was fully mirrored. After securing it
open he returned to his seat. “Watch yourself. See what a wanton display you’re
making.”

Oh yes…

“Take off your drawers,” he ordered.

Liquid gathered in her center. Her clitoris throbbed, aching
for his touch, which she knew he’d withhold as long as possible. The bastard.

Fingering the robin’s-egg-blue ribbon holding up her
pantalets, she watched herself for a moment before pulling the string and
releasing the fine lawn cotton so that it slithered down her legs.

“Are you wet?” he asked, his voice rougher but softer than
before.

“Yes.”

“The time for play is over. Henceforth you will refer to me
as Master or else you will be punished.”

A warm shiver shook her. “Yes Master.”

“Now once more. Are you wet?”

“Yes Master, I…I’m w-wet.”

He scoffed. “You don’t know for certain. Reach between your
legs, touch yourself and show me.”

Holding her breath, she watched in the mirror as she eased
her fingers between her legs, burrowing them into the warmth of her dark-brown
thatch. Jolts of pleasure rolled through her in rapid waves as her fingers came
into contact with her hardened clitoris. More slippery liquid flooded her
crevice.

“You little trollop. Touching yourself. Does it feel good?”

Call me names. Yes, yes…
She felt drunk. “Yes Master.”

“Show me how wet you are.”

Reluctantly she removed her hand and displayed her fingers
for him, seeing how they glistened in the light.

He crooked his index finger. “Come here.”

Hoping he’d relieve this maddening need, she hurried to him
but he only took her wrist, brought her hand to his mouth and sucked the cream
from her fingertips. She whimpered in disappointment.

He sat back. “No more dallying. Finish undressing.”

“Before the mirror, Master?” She shivered upon uttering his new
title. Why did it heighten her desire to refer to him as such?

“No. Here.”

Impatient to be totally naked, she rolled down her stockings
and removed them and her slippers. Her corset was not as easy to discard. Midge
had laced her far too tightly. To make matters worse Primrose’s struggle with
loosening the laces seemed to amuse Adam.

Finally she slackened the tapes enough to wriggle the hated
garment down over her hips. Once she removed her camisole she was blissfully
naked.

She drew in a deep breath, feeling life-giving oxygen course
through her like the bubbles in a glass of champagne. Excitement surged in her
breast. Now that she was completely bare he’d surely touch her.