Simply Sinful (12 page)

“There is more?”

“Good God, woman, what exactly did James do to you?”

She tried to push at his muscled chest, found she didn’t have the strength to move him even an inch.

“James would spend all his time trying to get inside me and then he’d leave his seed and withdraw. What’s wrong with that?”

A laugh shook through Peter, making her shudder too. “That man deserves to be shot for his treatment of you. I can’t wait to show him the error of his ways.”

He moved his hips back, then thrust back into her in a smooth relentless rhythm that made her pant with each forward movement. She closed her eyes and clung onto his shoulders, allowed him to guide her body into the position he wanted, and simply enjoyed. His pelvis rocked against her most sensitive parts, driving her toward another peak and then another.

She screamed as she came again, felt every inch of his cock being squeezed inside her clenching passage. Heard his answering groan and felt the hot spurt of his seed deep inside her. He collapsed over her, his face buried against her shoulder, his body shuddering.

Abby stroked his hair, waiting for the guilt to wash over her, and found her mind surprisingly clear. She suspected that would change later but concentrated fiercely on enjoying the moment, Peter’s arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against her, his cock still inside her.

“Did you mean to make love to me like this?”

He groaned and rolled over onto his back, taking her with him.

“No, I intended to be far more gentlemanly. I hope that if you ever give me another chance, I would take my time and not scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me on either occasion.” She stroked his chest, fingered his nipple ring. “I’m glad I caught you unawares.”

“Glad that I was so demanding?”

She hesitated, lifted her head to catch his gaze. “Glad that you were yourself.”

“Myself.” He shrugged, the movement drawing him slightly away from her. “Of course, I am renowned for my generosity in bed.”

She placed her hand on his thigh. “You were generous to me.”

Even in the uncertain light she could see his smile was bitter. “Then I have achieved my aim.” He removed her hand. “And perhaps you should go back to bed before you have another change of heart.”

Abby sat up straight. “That’s not fair.”

“There’s nothing fair about sex.”

She bit down on her lip. “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

He moved away until he sat on the edge of the bed, presenting her with his scarred back. “Perhaps for the very same reasons you used against me?”

“You feel guilty?”

He looked over his shoulder at her, his gaze intent, and she kept speaking.

“Guilty for what, Peter? For betraying James or for allowing me to see beneath that perfect gentlemanly veneer you wear?”

He got off the bed, walked across to the window to stare outside. Abby struggled to untangle her legs from the knotted sheets and follow him.

“I’m no gentleman, Abigail.” He swung around. His body, bathed in the first rays of the sun, was stippled with color like a stained glass saint.

“My, you are feeling guilty.”

His smile flickered out. “Aye, because you deserve so much better. You deserve to be sweetly wooed by a man on bended knee who will teach you about love and give you the time to learn to love him in return.”

She came to stand beside him, aware of the wetness of his seed on the inside of her thighs and the dull ache between her legs.

“That sounds like a fairy story and I don’t believe in them. I also believe I have a right to decide how I wish to be wooed.”

He touched her cheek, his fingers cool against her flushed skin. “Abigail…”

She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “Don’t tell me what I want.” She reached down to encircle his cock with her hand. “Don’t tell me how to think.”

His breathing quickened. “I wouldn’t dream of doing that.”

She squeezed hard, felt his flesh respond and fill out between her fingers. “Then I want this. I want you inside me, teaching me everything I need to know. I want a child. No lies, no treating me like a fragile flower, just this.”

Peter studied the hand wrapped around his shaft. Despite Abigail’s brave words, her fingers trembled as did her voice. His cock didn’t care, swelling and growing like some monstrous beast. He let out a ragged breath. Did she really believe she was capable of dealing with every one of his deviant, twisted sexual whims?

“You should go back to bed.”

He winced as her hand tightened painfully on his already well-used shaft.

“I won’t be treated like a child, Peter.”

He grasped her wrist and held her still. “It is almost five. The maids will be coming to light the fire in your bedroom. Do you really wish the staff to find you here with me?”

“No, no, I don’t.”

She relaxed her grip, allowed him to step away. “Then perhaps you will allow me to visit you tonight so that we can discuss this matter more deeply?”

She turned to face him. “Do you promise not to leave today?”

“I promise.” He touched her full lower lip. “Now go and get some rest.”

She hesitated in front of him. “I thought I would feel guiltier, but I don’t.”

“Don’t worry, you will.” He maneuvered her toward the door and opened it with a bow. “Sex has a way of emptying good sense from a lover’s brain. Unfortunately morning brings wiser counsel. Good night, Abigail.” She frowned and Peter tensed for another argument. “
Good night
, Abigail.”

“Good morning, Peter.”

She sailed past him, her bare skin the color of the purest porcelain, her brown hair long enough to caress the curve of her buttocks. Her hair brushed his cock and he fought a desire to pull her into his arms, carry her back to bed and fuck her and fuck her until he forgot who he was or who he thought he was and simply found himself in her sex.

He turned back to his bed and climbed in. The scent of their lovemaking lingered on the sheets. He closed his eyes and remembered that first moment of penetration, the tightness of her channel, the perfection of her breasts. His cock jerked. With a groan, he wrapped himself in a sheet and fell into a well-deserved slumber.

9

“I
am an adulteress. I have committed adultery.”

Abby repeated the words out loud as she gazed up at the top of her canopied bed. She waited for a moment but nothing of a celestial nature troubled her. Outside her window, the birds sang, church bells tolled and the sounds of a busy household waking up continued. She said it louder.

“I am an adulteress and I’m going to church this morning. What do you think about that, God?”

Perhaps God was simply waiting until she was over His threshold before He smote her. For some reason, the thought didn’t deter her. She felt better than she had since her marriage had begun. Would God understand that? Was He truly a loving God who would forgive her transgressions because He knew the purity of her intentions?

She got out of bed and made a face at herself in the looking glass. Perhaps that was taking things too far. She was unlikely to ever understand the workings of God’s mind even if she studied them for a lifetime.

“Good morning, my lady.”

Abby turned with a smile as Marie’s cheerful greeting sang through the room.

“Good morning, Marie.”

Marie set a rose-patterned bowl and a pitcher of warm water on the table beside her. “You’re up bright and early this morning, ma’am. Did something awaken you?”

Abby smiled at her reflection. What would Marie say if she confessed that she hadn’t slept at all? Caught up in remembering how Peter’s body had felt moving over hers and her thrilling response to his maleness had kept her awake until the sun had risen.

“Which gown do you wish to wear to church this morning? The puce or the olive green?”

Abby bit her lip. “I don’t suppose I have anything scarlet?”

Marie paused, her hands full of petticoats and stays. “Not that I remember, ma’am. Would you like me to check?”

“No, I’ll wear the olive green.” She sighed. “My mother-in-law would never have allowed her dressmaker to make me a scarlet gown.”

Abby stood up and washed her hands and face. After her liaison with Peter, she’d cleaned the rest of her body and changed her nightgown. The flesh between her legs was still tender and her thigh muscles ached from being spread wide by his hips.

Marie deftly laced up her stays and helped her into the drab olive morning dress. Abby sighed at her dowdy reflection. If appearances truly were deceptive, no one would ever suspect she had enjoyed a night of passion with her lover.

“I’ll have my breakfast downstairs this morning.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

Abby skipped down the stairs to the smaller of the two breakfast rooms and stopped abruptly in the doorway.

“Good morning, Abigail.”

She stumbled into a curtsey, her horrified gaze fixed on her mother-in-law, the dowager Lady Amelia Beecham, who sat opposite Peter at one end of the small dining table. What on earth was her mother-in-law doing there? Perhaps God did have a perverted sense of humor after all.

Lady Amelia was dressed all in black. The five dyed ostrich feathers that topped her high poke bonnet waved majestically in the slight breeze from the open window behind her. Peter stood up and bowed.

“Good morning, Lady Beecham, I was just explaining to Lady Amelia how I came to be visiting with you.”

“Indeed, Abigail. If you had any manners, you would have informed me that you had a guest. I could’ve helped you entertain.” Lady Amelia smiled at Peter. “I only live half a mile away in that appallingly dilapidated cottage my son insists on referring to as my dower house.”

Peter smiled back at the older woman. “But I have been well entertained. All I required was directions around the estate and a decent horse under me.”

Lady Amelia sniffed. “That hardly sounds entertaining to me.”

Before risking a word to either of them, Abby found herself a seat and heaped some food onto a plate. She buttered a piece of toast and slowly cut it into small squares.

“I beg to disagree, Lady Amelia.” Peter said. “James asked me down here because I was worn out by my exertions in Town. It was a shame that he was called away so unexpectedly, leaving me to impose on my gracious hostess.” He bowed in Abby’s direction. “The beauty and hospitality of Beecham Hall have proved exactly what I needed.”

To Abby’s astonishment, Lady Amelia merely nodded before directing her fire back to Abby.

“Did you forget that today is the anniversary of my late husband’s death?” Abby opened her mouth but Lady Amelia kept talking. “Did you tell James that he should be here to attend church with us and show his respect and devotion to his father?”

Abby cleared her throat. “I did mention it to James. As Mr. Howard said, he was called back to Town unexpectedly. He sent his apologies.”

Actually, James had told her to tell his mother that the only thing he prayed for was reassurance that his father burned in hell. Over the years, Abby had become an expert at not passing along James’s messages and had cheerfully taken the brunt of his mother’s disapproval on her own shoulders.

“Pah, that boy will be too busy whoring and gambling in London to attend his own funeral.”

Abby concentrated on drinking her tea as her mother-in-law continued to mutter about James. Would James be out whoring or would he be too busy wondering what she and Peter were up to? To her eternal gratitude, Peter kept up a light stream of conversation that kept Lady Amelia sufficiently amused and her interest away from Abby.

Abby studied Peter as he nodded encouragingly at Lady Amelia, who appeared to be simpering. He wore a dark gray coat and cream waistcoat over buff-colored breeches and polished boots. His elaborately tied cravat was secured with a pearl pin. As if aware of her scrutiny, Peter winked at her.

She wished she had his ability to soothe troubled waters with such grace and patience. More often than not these days, she ended up offending her mother-in-law, who would then leave in a huff and refuse to speak to her for weeks. Her gaze lingered on Peter’s breeches. Did he wear those rings around his cock during the day? Was he wearing them now?

Her spoon clattered to the floor, earning her a frown from Lady Amelia.

“You can see why my son doesn’t bother to come home, Mr. Howard.” Abigail set her teeth. It was an old complaint. “Why would he bother to stay around a woman who has proved both barren and ungrateful to those who have elevated her far above her true station in life?”

Peter put down his napkin and rose to his feet. “I have never heard James speak of Lady Beecham other than in terms of the greatest respect.” He bowed. “Perhaps there are other reasons why he stays away.”

Lady Amelia frowned at him. “Well, I cannot think of any. You
are
coming to church with us, young man?”

“I would be delighted to represent James in this matter. I’m sure he is truly devastated about not attending today.”

Abby caught his eye and he winked at her again before leaving the room. How was he able to do that and not let Lady Amelia see? Abby finished her toast and poached eggs and wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, mama-in-law, I’ll just go and put my bonnet on.”

Lady Amelia pointed a black-mittened finger at Abby. “It is most improper of you to entertain a gentleman in your house when your husband is not present.”

Abigail held her gaze and kept her voice steady. “Mr. Howard is a friend of James. They came down together. When James had to leave he asked me if Mr. Howard could stay on for a few days to recuperate. I am scarcely alone in the house with him, and I fail to see how obeying my husband’s wishes are any of your concern.”

“You are up to something, missy, don’t think I don’t know it and don’t imagine that a gentleman such as Mr. Howard would stoop low enough to notice you.”

Abby turned toward the door. “Mr. Howard is indeed a gentleman. That is all there is to it. If you fear for my virtue, why don’t you move back into the house and chaperone me?”