If He's Sinful (37 page)

“Drink,” said Victor. “A toast to our success!”

All five men cheered and drank the brandy. Ashton felt calmer when he was done, his mind cleared of shock over his good fortune and jealousy over suitors Penelope did not even have yet. Then he grimaced. He had not even sent her a note in a fortnight. Wooing her back into his arms might not be so easy.

“So, when will you marry the girl?” asked Brant.

“As soon as I can,” replied Ashton without hesitation. “Once she will speak to me again. I just realized I have not even sent her a note in the fortnight since she and the boys were moved into Wherlocke House. Kept thinking I would see her soon and could talk to her in person. Much better than a note.”

“Except when it has been a fortnight since you last spoke to her.”

“There is that.”

“You shall just have to woo her,” said Cornell. “Flowers, mayhap some bonbons, although I suspect the children will eat all of them. Ah, and what about the children? You will not have her without them.”

“I know. I do not mind. The west wing at Radmoor is already being readied for them.”

“Confident bastard.”

“I was until about a moment ago. I shall just have to explain everything and beg for her forgiveness. Penelope cares for me. She is not a woman to take a lover unless she did care for the man.”

“Fool, she loves you. Any idiot can see that.”

“Some idiots like to hear the words before they get all cocky and sure of themselves.”

“Yet you are having a wing of your house prepared for her children.”

“That was as much out of hope than anything else.” He frowned when he heard someone approaching the door, Marston’s low somewhat urgent voice and measured footsteps following. “Now what.”

The door to his study opened and Ashton’s eyes widened. There stood his Penelope, an apologetic Marston peering over her shoulder. She was dressed as fine as he had ever seen her, having obviously bought herself some new clothes. The green of the gown brought out the green in her eyes and complemented the soft, creamy rose of her skin. The gown was cut a little low in his opinion, far too much of her lovely soft bosom exposed to the eyes of others. A kick to his chair brought him to his senses and he stood up.

“Penelope, can I help you?” he asked and was not surprised to see Cornell roll his eyes.

“I need to speak to you,” she said, some of her bravado seeping away as she looked at his friends.

Before she could succumb to utter cowardice, turn around, and run for home, his friends began to excuse themselves. Each man stopped to bow to her, wish her well, and kiss her hand. She held on to Brant’s hand and stared up into his shadowed eyes. Olwen was right. The man had been wounded and needed to heal.

“Olwen says it will be fine,” she whispered and then blushed at the weak attempt to give comfort when it had not been asked for.

“Does he?”

“Aye, I just thought it might help if you knew that.”

“Oddly enough, even though I am not sure I believe in all these things, it does.” He bent down to kiss her cheek. “Do not bludgeon him too much, m’dear.”

Penelope knew she was blushing when Ashton walked past her to shut the door behind his friends. She heard him murmur something to Marston before shutting the door and then frowned. Was that the sound of a key being turned in a lock?

She turned to face him and all her well-practiced words dried up in her throat. He was so handsome and he was smiling at her as if she was the best thing he had seen in years. Then she frowned. If he had wanted to see her, he could have come to Wherlocke House. She was not the one who had been in hiding.

Ashton saw the soft welcoming look upon her face suddenly firm into a frown. Anger turned her eyes more green than blue. He should have kissed her while she was still looking soft and welcoming, he thought, and then inwardly shook his head. They needed to talk. He grinned to himself. Then they could kiss. He pocketed the key he had just locked the door with, for he intended to keep her in his study until she forgave him his idiocy and then he intended to do a lot more than kiss her.

“It has been too long,” he said.

“You knew where I was,” she replied, fighting to keep hold of her anger with him and not fling herself into his arms as she so ached to do.

“Penelope, a man has his pride,” he began and then looked at her in surprise. “Did you just growl at me?”

She had but she would have all her hair pulled out before she would ever admit it. “Do not be ridiculous. Ladies do not growl. You were going to tell me about a man’s pride?”

“Pride can make a man act like an idiot. I suddenly realized how rich you were, in land and coin. I wanted to at least be clear of debt when I came to you.”

“You did not care about such things when you courted an heiress, when you courted Clarissa. How is my money different than theirs?”

“It is not, except that it is yours and I cared about what you thought of me.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “No, I cared about how I felt in your eyes. I did not want to be that fortune hunter any longer. I never did, to tell the truth. It always made me uncomfortable. But with you, it made me more than uncomfortable. When you burned those markers, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and then it was back. I was already in debt to you and we had not even discussed marriage. That was when I knew I had to do something.”

“Straighten out a few things?”

“Yes, straighten out the remaining debts and find enough money to pay you for those markers.”

“I do not want you to pay me for those markers. That was a gift. They had been the reason you had become ensnared in Clarissa and Charles’s trap and I wished to free you completely from it. I certainly did not wish you to remain chained down by debts your father made.”

He stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know that now. Up until a few moments ago, I was still planning to pay you back but my friends made me see sense. Sometimes one just has to accept a gift.” He brushed a kiss over her lips, forcing himself not to take more just yet. “I thank you.”

“You are welcome. And that was it? The markers?”

“No, not all of it. I made an investment, you see, and was waiting for it to pay some results. It has.” He grinned. “I am now a wealthy man.”

“So, you do not need a wealthy bride.”

“No, but I do need you. I want you as my bride. I know you cannot fully understand, but I needed to free myself of debt and put some money in my purse before I asked you to join your life to mine.”

“That is what Aunt Olympia said. All that puzzles me is why you should feel so with me and not the others.”

“Because I cared nothing for them. To me they were more dowry than women. I knew I would be a good husband, faithful and kind, but I really felt little for any I courted and less than nothing for Clarissa. If not for those markers, I would have walked away from her at the start. But you, I could not bring myself to act the fortune hunter with you. I wanted to go to the woman I love with a full purse and no need of her money. I wanted the world to know that I chose her not for the weight of her purse, but because she was the only woman I wanted.” He leaned back a little, uneasy as he saw tears glistening in her eyes. “This makes you cry?”

“You love me.” She finally gave in to the urge that had been gnawing at her from the start and threw herself into his arms.

“Yes, I love you.” He savored the feel of her in his arms again, wondering how he had lasted even a fortnight without feeling her there. “I was about to come to you, beg your forgiveness and woo you.”

“Oh, there is no need. I forgive you. I might not fully understand it all, it being a man’s way of thinking, but I forgive you. I also love you. More than I can say.”

“Then show me, Penelope Wherlocke,” he whispered against her neck.

“The door,” she began as his fingers nimbly began to undo her gown.

“Locked.”

“Cocky.”

“Hopeful. Very, very hopeful.”

Penelope let herself drown in the heat and passion of his kiss. They stumbled toward a settee, leaving their clothing in their wake. She was shaking with her need for him and the tremors that rippled through his body told her he suffered from the same hunger. By the time they fell together onto the settee, she had nothing left on but her stockings.

Ashton looked down at the well-kissed, delightfully tossled woman in his arms and his whole body hardened with his need for her. He was panting as if he had run for miles and was pleased to see that she was doing the same. The wildness was still there and he rejoiced in it.

She moaned her welcome as he joined their bodies with a slowness that had her gritting her teeth in need. He moved in and out of her with an equal slowness and she thought she would go mad. Every nerve and muscle in her body tautened with hunger and her desire roared through her veins. She did not want slow and easy. She wanted to be possessed with fire, ferocity, and blind need.

“Ashton, cease playing with me,” she said as she rubbed her feet over the backs of his legs.

“I like playing with you.” He was not sure how much longer he could do so, however, as his mind was clouding with passion’s heat and his body was screaming for release.

“Do you now?”

Penelope trailed her hands down his strong back and slowly ran her nails over his taut buttocks. The way he trembled at her touch, sweat beading on his brow, told her she was on the right track. Smiling faintly, she slipped her hand between their bodies and did the same just above where their bodies joined. He groaned. She tightened herself around the hard length of him and almost undid herself with the way it made her desire soar. He gasped and shuddered. She did it again. He finally gave her the ferocity she craved, pounding into her until they both cried out with joy.

“Penelope,” Ashton said when he could finally speak again, “have you been reading some of those books?” He smiled when she giggled.

“Actually, there were quite a few in the library at Wherlocke House. Naturally I had to hide them away so the boys could not find that, er, pirate treasure.”

“Really? There are naughty books at Wherlocke House?” He grinned at her. “And you read them? Sinful child.”

“I peeked at a few.” She blushed. “I think whoever wrote them and drew the pictures had some very grand ideas of the size of men and just what a person is capable of doing. I am sorry, Ashton, but some of the things I glimpsed in those books are impossible, if not positively painful looking.”

“I agree, all except on the size of men.” He laughed when she slapped him on the shoulder. “Ah, my Penelope, I do love you.”

She brushed her lips over his. “I love you, too. Ashton?”

He touched a finger to her mouth. “And I love the boys. I have already begun making changes to the west wing of Radmoor Manor so that they may have rooms.” He frowned at the glisten of tears in her eyes. “Are you going to cry again?”

“I did not cry before. ’Tis just a little dust. You need to get the maid in here.”

“I also may still have doubts about what you and your family can do, will confess that some of the things can make me uneasy, like what your uncle Argus can do, but I do not care. It neither frightens nor repulses me. Those were the things you were most concerned about, correct?”

“Very correct.” She stroked his cheek. “Thank you, Ashton, and do not worry about your doubts hurting any of us. We understand that those who have not lived with such things as we have cannot always accept them as we do. It has always been the fear, the whispers of witches and such, that we cannot abide.”

“I am not surprised.” He idly began to caress her breasts. “I hate for this moment to end as my mother will be eager to keep you busy and at her side as she makes wedding preparations.”

“How long does that sort of thing take?”

“I am hoping I can keep her to the three weeks needed to read the banns.”

“It could take longer than that?”

“Easily.” He studied her face and smiled. “In a hurry?”

This was not the way she wished to tell him, Penelope thought. Yet if she hesitated, she would find herself in a precarious position. Three weeks was not so bad as she was carrying twins and everyone expected them to come early. Any more than that and they would be raising eyebrows everywhere at the birth of the children.

“Three weeks. No more.”

He blinked. “You are sounding very firm. I will speak to Mother, though, if you really feel that way.”

“Ashton, I would love to have a big wedding, love to make your mother happy as she plans and shops and all of that. However, any more than three weeks and I shall not fit into any wedding dress made now.”

Ashton sat back on his heels and stared at her for a moment. Then he stared at her pretty, flat stomach. Then he stared at her again.

“Am I guessing right in thinking that you are already carrying my child?”

“Aye, I am.” She squeaked when he lunged at her and hugged her almost too tight. “So, I need not say I am sorry for ruining your mother’s wish for a big wedding?”

“No need to say you are sorry at all.” He kissed her with all the love and joy he was filled with. “I do believe I had a hand in this.” He stroked her stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry all the time. I fought with Artemis over the last piece of apple pie last night. He lost.” She grinned when he laughed for she could hear the joy in his voice.