Beyond A Wicked Kiss (60 page)

She stretched and felt the ache of inactivity in every one of her muscles. Reaching behind her, Ria found West's pillow. She lifted it over her shoulder so she could hug it to her chest. It did not seem possible that he could have left the bed without her sensing it immediately, but the coolness of the pillow sham attested to the fact that he had been gone for more than a few minutes.

The dripping water that had disturbed her dreams and drawn her slowly out of sleep, caught her attention again. Over the top of the crumpled pillow, Ria's blue-gray eyes darted to the source of the sound. The adjoining dressing room door was slightly ajar. She lifted her head, cocked it to one side, and when the next droplet of water splattered the floor, she knew where it had come from.

West had lowered himself so deeply in the water that it lapped at his Adam's apple. His head rested against the lip of the copper tub; his eyes were closed. One arm rested along the edge, and a wet flannel dangled from his fingertips. Another bead of water was collecting at the tip of the cloth and in mere seconds would become part of the small puddle forming below.

Ria snatched the flannel from West's hand and wrung it out directly over his face. Water splashed his forehead and cheeks. A fat droplet landed squarely on his bottom lip.

"Do you mean to be annoying?" he asked calmly enough. "Or is it simply that you cannot help yourself?"

Snapping the flannel open, Ria let it fall on his upturned face. By the time he had removed it and opened his eyes, she had his shirt over her head and was preparing to join him in the tub.

"It will be a squeeze," he said.

"I hope so."

Grinning, West sat up and made room for her. Water sloshed over the sides as she lowered herself between his thighs. She rested her hands on his knees and her head against his shoulder. A thin film of warm water was all that separated them.

Ria welcomed being held in the intimate shelter of his body. When the water stilled, there was only the gentle sound of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart at her back. In this warm and liquid cocoon, she finally felt safe enough to ask what she could not earlier. "Last night was not the end of the bishops, was it?"

"No. Hambrick Hall is a spawning ground for the Society. There will always be bishops."

"And perhaps others like you and your friends?"

"Sworn enemies? Yes, I hope so."

"When will you release them from the altar chamber?" she asked.

"When Miss Petty and the other young ladies decide that I should."

"Oh, but they might never—"

West nodded gravely. "Precisely."

She tried to gauge how seriously he meant his words but could not. "When did you decide this?"

"When you were tending to Miss Petty and the other girls, and my friends and I were cleaning up the mess we made. Beckwith spilled a lot of blood when I smashed his nose. I didn't think it sporting to let him drown in it. Herndon had a nasty scalp wound where North cracked him against the marble column. Those bleed like the very devil, you know. And, courtesy of South, Sir Alex lost two teeth. I am not certain what injuries Eastlyn produced in the others, but he seemed to be enjoying using his fists for a change."

Ria had been witness to all of it. She knew she could not have turned away if it had been demanded of her. East
had
been enjoying himself, and it was equally true of the others.

There was no denying that she had found a certain satisfaction in the crushing blows that forced the bishops to their knees. When any one of them tried to get to the entrance she guarded, she smartly snapped South's whip until she drove them back into the fray. Had they attempted to rush her, she was quite confident she could have used East's pistol.

Still, she was not certain about the punishment that was being meted out now. "North and the others agreed with you... about imprisoning the bishops there, I mean?"

"Yes. It's not unjust, Ria. I am not convinced it is even cruel. They will be watered and fed. That is more compassion than I think they ever demonstrated for the young women they held captive." He laid his hands on her shoulders and lightly massaged the taut cords in her back. "You know better than any of us what manner of things passed for entertainment inside the Flower House."

"I do," she said quietly. "But I think you mistake my concern. It is not for the bishops, but for their keepers. They will be in danger each time they enter the altar room to pass food and water to their prisoners."

"The bishops are not free to make any advances."

"What do you mean?"

"Hoist with their own petard." At her questioning look, West explained, "They are chained, Ria, and I am quite sure that is a fitting end. I do not expect that Jane or any of the others will suggest granting the bishops their freedom before a sennight passes."

"What if they lose their nerve? Beckwith is clever. So are the others. Poor Jane believed Sir Alex was in love with her. It is not beyond her reasoning to think that she is still in love with him. The bishops are prisoners for the time being, but you must entertain the notion that one of the girls can be induced to release them, even if she does not believe it of herself now."

West's hands paused in their gentle massage of Ria's back. "We have considered that. That is why the colonel will be sending reinforcements. Northam was to make the arrangements after he and the others escorted us to this residence. I am certain everything has been made ready. The young ladies you calmed and cared for so splendidly last evening will have nothing at all to do with their former tormentors. The bishops will be looked after by others whose hearts will not be softened so easily."

Ria raised one shoulder under West's hand, reminding him his fingers were no longer offering their comforting pressure along her back. She sighed softly as he began kneading again. "I think it will not be easy for the girls to have other men in the house. The ones who witnessed the melee you created in the altar chamber will be especially suspicious."

"That is why North will ask the colonel to send women."

Ria was so startled by this intelligence that the water rippled around her. "Women? Do you mean it?"

"Pray, do not embrace the idea too closely. I am not yet recovered from the intrigues of the past two days, and frankly, I should like to be the one member of my club who does not have to concern himself that his wife and the colonel have formed some unholy alliance."

"I do not think it would be unholy," she said mildly. "Colonel Blackwood is quite charming and everything considerate. He has a superior intellect and an acerbic wit that I find vastly entertaining."

West was certain that the nature of her reply would bode ill for him at some future date. His sigh was perfectly audible and quite telling. "I don't suppose I should like you half so well if you weren't so provoking."

"Provoking? Do you think so? I don't mean to be."

"You are also a consummate liar, but it is one of your chief appeals."

She chuckled and brought his arms around her. They fit nicely under her breasts. "I have been thinking that some arrangements will have to be made for Jane, Sylvia, Amanda—indeed for all the girls. Their lives are extraordinarily changed. I would like to offer them opportunities different from the ones the Society gave them."

"Some will still become courtesans and prostitutes."

Ria nodded. "I know." She idly ran one hand back and forth along West's forearm. "It will require a goodly sum to provide for the ones who will want to do something else. Decent homes in respectable areas of town will not come cheaply."

"That is why the former governors of Miss Weaver's Academy will lend their considerable fortunes to the enterprise."

"Truly? Can they be made to do it?"

"Of course. I suspect after a few days of confinement, they will contribute generously to the rehabilitation of your young ladies."

"And after they are released?" she asked. "Can we depend on them to honor their promises?"

"No. What you can depend upon is that certain pressure will be brought to bear to encourage that they act honorably."

Ria was sure there was a great deal he was not saying. She might ask for the details later, she thought, but not now. Some things she was not prepared to know just yet. "None of this can touch the school, West. They must not be allowed to ruin Miss Weaver's or the reputations of its students."

"Before I left Gillhollow the last time, I arranged with Tenley that he should look after you and the school. Margaret was also apprised of my concerns. Their visits to Gillhollow had more than a single purpose."

"You were watching me so closely even then?"

"Especially then," he said. "Ria, the first thing I did when I realized Miss Jenny Taylor was in the employ of the bishops was to inform my brother. I am confident that he has received the missive by now and has acted accordingly. You can be assured that Miss Taylor has been removed from the school and that Mrs. Abergast and Miss Webster are providing direction in your absence."

"You have considered the whole of it, then."

"I wish I were so omniscient, but we have made a good beginning."

Ria hugged him to her. It seemed that they had. She appreciated the comfortable silence that settled over them. The water was still warm, though perhaps a few degrees cooler than the heat they shared between them. After a time, she said quietly, "This is my second bath today."

"I know. You came to my bed smelling of lavender."

"Did I? Perhaps I was too liberal in using the salts. I wanted to wash away the stench of that wretched place."

Though Ria said these words matter-of-factly, without rancor or particular distaste, West found himself tightening his arms ever so slightly around her. "You cannot know how I wish it might have been different."

"I think I do know," she told him. "Will you be surprised to learn that my only regret will be if you hold yourself responsible?" She felt, rather than heard, his sharp intake of breath. "Did you imagine I would not know? When they made you come to me and would have watched while you lay with me, I knew which of us would suffer more. You were so gentle, even when you coupled the cuffs, even more when you fastened them to the bed." She found his hand and took it in hers, drawing it beneath the water toward her heart. "I was never afraid of you, West, only afraid for you... for us. It would not have been rape, not between you and me. If that act was done, then it was done by the bishops to both of us, but I do not think they succeeded in any measure. They had a great deal of understanding about mastery and submission and none at all about how love bridges the distance between them."

She twisted her head a little, raising it so she could see if the grim line of his mouth had softened. "I wanted you, you know. Perhaps I reveal too much by admitting it, but I did. When you called me to stand in front of the mirror and put your hands on me, you showed me then how I might survive what they wanted. You made it seem as if it were happening to someone else, that I was more observer than participant, and yet it
was
me... and you... and the desire was as real as anything I have ever felt. Should I punish myself for that?"

"No." West closed his eyes briefly. "God, no."

"What about you?"

This time West hesitated.

Ria's fingers threaded in his. "See? You do not yet forgive yourself. You saved me, West, just as surely as you did long ago at the lake. You did not deserve to be punished for what you did then, nor do you deserve it now." She kissed his cheek and then whispered against his ear, "Mayhap it is something that can be washed away. What have you done with the soap?"

West stayed her hand. He stared at her darkening blue-gray eyes for a long moment, took in the sweet offering of her parted lips, the frank and unashamed desire that defined her exquisite features, and thought how utterly uncomplicated she made it all seem.

Perhaps it truly was.

He released her wrist and reached over the side of the tub for the soap. Smiling a trifle crookedly, he placed it in her open palm and watched her fingers curl around it. At the very first touch of its slippery warmth, he thought he would be undone.

They were heedless of the water that splashed over the side or that when there was laughter, it could be heard well beyond the bedchamber. Their bodies were made slick by the soap, and they moved easily against each other with no regard for friction or the restrictions of their setting, tangling arms and legs in ways that made them catch their breath with the sheer pleasure of it.

Dripping water in their wake, they abandoned the tub for the bed. Under the covers, Ria lay fully on top of West, pinning him down with her slight weight and the circle of her fingers around his wrists. She drew his hands upward to the level of his shoulders and lifted her head so she could look clearly into his eyes.

"Do you know," she said, "that your friend South has the most lamentable timing?"

"You are speaking of when he broke the skylight."

She nodded, absently rubbing the raised tendons in his wrists with her thumbs. "But I think you knew he was there, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"How? I looked up when I heard the first raindrops, yet I didn't see him."