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Authors: Samantha Holt

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Victorian, #Historical Fiction, #British, #Regency, #Historical Romance

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BOOK: Sinful Liaisons
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It was risky.

“Yes?” she called out, her voice but a harsh shadow of itself. She realised her mistake when her maid answered in stammering tones.

“I-I brought some...”

Evelyn chuckled. “Betsy will no doubt have some of my late husband’s clothes for you. He was about your size. I hope you do not find it morbid.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“You are far from a beggar, Cynfell.”

Indeed, a man like himself likely never had to beg for anything. Women would take one look at him—as she had—and offer him everything. She’d have to remain cautious. It wouldn’t do to let herself be vulnerable around him.

She turned to put her hand to the door and a strong set of fingers curled around her upper arm. “I’m willing to wager you can make a man beg.”

She eyed him over her shoulder. “Perhaps.”

Was this him begging? Did he feel the same heat curling between them? He had to. It was impossible to miss. But whether he had any thoughts of pursuing it, she didn’t know.

“Dinner is at eight. Please explore at your leisure,” she told him in an attempt to put them back on a formal footing. For the moment at least.

Evelyn needed some time away from his naked body to straighten her thoughts, and she had no concerns of him finding her in her favourite spot in the house.

“Good day, Your Grace.”

Somehow those four words felt like the most seductive and beautiful words she’d ever heard. Her stomach twisted itself into knots that would never be undone. She pulled open the door to find an astonished Betsy, trying to look as though there was nothing unusual about her mistress occupying a room with a naked stranger.

Evelyn didn’t say anything to the maid. She didn’t even feel like offering explanations. What explanation was there? She was curious, and she didn’t think her curiosity had been fully satisfied yet.

She strolled down the hallway. There was time, however.

Chapter Three

“So what exactly was this wager that caused you to end up losing your clothes, Cynfell?”

Pierce paused, leaving his fork halfway up to his mouth before he lowered it. He eyed the woman at the head of the long table, her fiery hair gilded by the lights. She fit the room perfectly. Bold, like the gold and red damask wallpaper. Beautiful like the elegant arrangement of whatever these flowers in front of him were. Curvaceous like the exquisitely made furnishings. And yet, she did not fade amongst these decadent surroundings. No, instead they only seemed to work to draw his gaze to her. He suspected she knew it well if her performance in his bedchamber was anything to go by.

“You are a curious creature.”

“I have a right to be, do I not? I have brought you, a stranger, into my home. For all I know you could be a dangerous highwayman simply using the Cynfell name as a cover.”

“I doubt there would be many criminals careless enough to masquerade as one of us. Our reputations precede us and few could live up to it.”

“And yet, I know nothing of you. Does that disappoint?”

He lowered his fork completely, giving up his hopes of continuing his enjoyment of the succulent pheasant. But, the truth was, he’d far rather speak with this woman who intrigued him so. She wasn’t intimidated by him—a rarity. He might not have the rank of his eldest brother but he had a reputation, and as far as anyone but those he owed money to knew, he had wealth. It left most women nervous around him. Of course, he knew well enough how to soothe those nerves but still, it was refreshing.

“It does not. It simply means none of my sins have yet reached your ears and therefore I can start afresh.”

“And that appeals does it? Starting afresh?”

God, yes. More than she knew. If he could go back and never place that first wager. If he could never have that first taste of a win. Never believe that the next hand would be the making of him. Yes, starting afresh sounded appealing indeed.

“I can’t think of many people who would not like to go back and ensure they didn’t make the same mistakes again, can you?”

“It’s our mistakes that make us who we are.”

He wondered at that. He wondered at
her.
Her confidence, her boldness. Was it simply because she was five and thirty or was it something else? Now he thought about it, he could see her age. Not in her face—she still appeared not much older than him to his mind—but in the way she carried herself.

“Have you made many?” He reached for the glass of wine to his right and took a slow sip of the rich merlot.

“Hundreds.” She too took a sip of wine and smiled at him over the rim of the glass. “I intend to make many more, Cynfell.”

Pierce also wondered at the use of his surname. His friends called him Cynfell or Cyn. Most of his brothers were called similarly. It often got confusing when they spent time together in London, but thankfully Julian and Dante spent most of their time in the country and Gideon hated London society. That left him with only three other brothers to compete with. However, no woman had ever called them Cynfell. Until now.

“Would it not be better to learn from your mistakes?”

“Oh, I never make the same mistake twice, but one is not really living if one is too cautious.”

He couldn’t help but agree, although that same notion was what had put him in debt to most of the gambling dens in London.
What was the harm?
He’d say. Was this life not short? Shouldn’t he enjoy every moment while he still could?

“You talk a good game, Evelyn,” he said instead of admitting to his doubts, “but I don’t believe you make every decision in your life without some caution.”

Or else she might have done more than simply slip into his bedchamber. She desired him. Perhaps as much as he desired her. He could think of nothing he’d wanted more than to pull her close and strip her bare. This woman heated his blood in a way he couldn’t remember many others doing.

She took another sip of wine and put the glass down. “It’s hard for a man to believe a woman might act selfishly, I suppose. Or like a man.” A daring smile curved her lips.

“The male of the species are indeed selfish creatures.”

He was fairly certain he could count himself as one of those. It was the reason he hadn’t attached himself to anyone. Too busy enjoying and worrying about himself. One day, he might consider finding someone to concern himself with, but for now, he had no interest in changing his circumstances.

With the exception of the debt. He’d like to change that. If Julian was serious about cutting him off, it was going to take a lot of charm to see himself out of it. And apparently, he didn’t have enough of it. If he had, Evelyn Chesworth would not be toying with him at every corner, redirecting him and playing with his words. He couldn’t help but enjoy it, though.

“However,” he continued, “I don’t believe you to be selfish. You stopped to pick this poor waif off the side of the road, after all. And as for behaving like a man—” he eyed her “—there is nothing manly about you, Your Grace.”

A slight stain appeared on her cheeks. When was the last time she’d been complimented? He wracked his brain for knowledge of her but could come up with none. Even if her husband was recently deceased, he thought it unlikely she would remain unmarried for long, and she was clearly out of mourning if her vibrant emerald dress was anything to go by. A beautiful, wealthy duchess...either the men of society were mad or they knew something of her that he did not.

She returned her attention back to the meal and the conversation grew lighter again. Her husband had been dead for years it seemed and her son had been abroad for two years. She was entirely alone and something about this remarkable woman having no one saddened him.

“Do you spend much time in London?”

She shook her head. “Not if I can help it. Being Lady of the House affords one many luxuries. The freedom to speak, think, and act however one wishes. It means I’m not the best of company in polite society. I have a few good friends I visit with when I’m there, but if I travel, I prefer Scotland or Cornwall.”

Well, that explained why he hadn’t met her before. He was sure he would have recalled such a woman.

“You’re a duchess,” he pointed out. “Is it not up to society to conform to you and not the other way around?”

“For a duke, perhaps. Not so much for a duchess. Do not mistake me, I am afforded respect for my title, but I take no pleasure in it. That’s why I prefer to spend time with my true friends.”

Pierce nodded. He could understand that. When he tried to stop gambling, he hadn’t been sure he had any true friends. Giles wasn’t interested in more wholesome pursuits with him—riding, boxing, fencing. He only wanted to spend time with him when they were playing cards. The same went for many other friends. He found it hard to extricate himself from them without becoming thoroughly lonely and despondent.

“So, Cynfell, what am I to do with you now?”

He glanced at her, surprised. He shouldn’t have been. Had she not just spoken of her unguarded tongue? But the riot of images assaulting him blazed through his mind. It was not so much what he wished her to do with him—though there were a few things—but what he wished to do with her.

Tear her from her chair perhaps and press her face down on the table so he could flip up her skirts and touch the soft skin of her thighs. Take her from behind until she screamed his name—his first name. There were many, many more things he could think of, but if he pictured them, he’d be hard as stone.

“Am I to send you back to London?” she clarified. “I can have my carriage return you tomorrow.”

He gave a sigh. “That, perhaps, would not be such a good idea.”

“Because of the wager?”

“Because of many wagers. I’d better return to Lockwood Manor in Warwickshire.”

She gave a little nod of understanding. He peered at her, trying to see that look of condemnation that he knew he’d see in his brother’s gaze. There was nothing worse than feeling no older than ten when one was a grown man. But that look wasn’t there. Nor did she push him for details. Given her curious state, that surprised him. He strongly suspected that even before he did return to his family home, she’d surprise him many more times.

Chapter Four

Evelyn paused at the top of the stairs and pressed her hands down the bodice of her rich purple gown. She checked the ruffles at the end of the sleeves and drew in a breath. She had to suppress a yawn as she descended the stairs into the hall of Fairchester. Sleep had proved elusive, and she knew why.

Pierce Cynfell.

Dining with him had reminded her of her lonely state. Watching him had only emphasised how much she missed male company. Once in bed, she imagined the things he could do to her. Pierce Cynfell was a man after her own heart in many ways. Smart, bold, a little reckless.

Though he had financial troubles if his word were anything to go by.

She could find out exactly what sort of trouble he was in easily enough.

Not that she wanted to give him her heart. She wouldn’t give anyone her heart again. Grief was simply too painful. Her husband might have passed over seven years ago but she still recalled the ragged, raw ache it caused. And of course, there had been their second child...

She shook her head. No, her heart would never be in danger again. However, with a man like Cynfell, he wasn’t after hearts. No, he wanted more. More wealth. Perhaps more pleasure in life. He was greedy. She didn’t blame him. She was the same. She longed for a more interesting life. It was why she so often pushed her boundaries. When one had lost so much, it didn’t feel like there was much left to risk. Those were the sort of chances she enjoyed taking. Evelyn was greedy for experience.

But, alas, her experience with Pierce Cynfell was coming to an end. He’d return to his brother, likely get his debts written off and go back to London to increase his debt once more. She had known many a good man do the same.

When she stepped outside, she found the coach waiting but no sign of Pierce. The weather was clear. A few wispy clouds trailed across the sky but there was no threat of rain so he would make good time to Warwickshire. The scent of freshly cut grass breezed through the air, and she spotted her gardeners out tending to the lawns.

Evelyn sighed. Surrounded by people, yet alone. Being a wealthy duchess had some positives but the isolation wasn’t one of them. Her house was set on the fairly flat land close to the River Cherwell. Few passed by and fewer came to stay.

She turned at the sound of footsteps on the stone steps. Pierce exited the double doors and Evelyn had to admire him. It was interesting that no pang of grief hit her when she saw him in her husband’s clothes. Instead fingers of excitement skipped up her spine. In buff trousers, a red embroidered waistcoat and a greatcoat, he cut an elegant and, dare she say, sensual figure.

Pierce gave a little dip and took her hand to brush a kiss over her gloved fingers. She wished she hadn’t been wearing them.

“I must thank you for your kindness and charity, Your Grace.”

“And I must thank you for your fine company.”

He straightened but kept hold of her hand. His gaze searched hers and her breaths stuck in her chest. What did he wish to see?

“No thanks necessary. I am forever in your debt.”

“I don’t think you need any more debts.”

He chuckled. “You would be right there.”

“I can help if you wish it.”

His brows dipped. “You hardly know me, Evelyn.”

“I am a good judge of character, I can promise you that much. But I see you have some scruples at least.”

Pierce’s grin widened. “So I do. How astonishing.”

Was it odd to feel a connection with a man she hardly knew? One that ran deeper than pure desire? She wasn’t looking for love. But connection? Yes. She’d been craving that for a long, long time.

“Well...”

“Well...” His smile turned wicked. “Do I get a farewell kiss?”

Evelyn narrowed her gaze at him. The audacity of the man. She couldn’t help but like it.

“Very well then.”

Moving onto tiptoes, she leaned in. It started chaste. A brief brush of the lips. A goodbye kiss. Then it deepened. The parting of lips. The sweep of a tongue. He released his grip on her hand and drew her close, tilting her just enough so that her body was open to the feel of his. Even through the layers of their clothing, she was aware of his firm chest pressing against hers. Her nipples were hard and aching against her corset.

Evelyn softened into him. It didn’t matter that the driver and footmen were likely watching them, open-mouthed. She cared little for their opinions and it tickled her that they’d be gossiping tonight.

The heat of Pierce’s palm pressed through her gown and fairly branded the base of her spine. Heat washed over her in waves as his tongue searched her mouth and he pressed harder. She knew with utter certainty she wanted this man—that he would give her what she’d been longing for.

He broke away, his breaths coming hard. “I will not apologise. I’ve been wishing to do that since yesterday.”

“I would expect no apology nor ask for one,” she replied huskily. She gripped his arm, fearing he intended to leave her. “Stay.”

Both dark brows rose but he remained.

“I have a proposal. Please stay.”

He inclined his head. “As if I could say no.”

“Baker, take the carriage away,” she said to the driver. “We won’t be needing it today.”

The closed cab rumbled off, and she prayed she was right, that Pierce would accept her proposal.

Evelyn led him into the house and through the main drawing room to the study. It might all belong to her son, but while he studied she ran everything. Evidence of her work was scattered across the tops of the three desks while books sat open. She ignored the overstuffed and worn armchair her husband used to occupy and motioned to the chair opposite the largest desk.

He sat and watched her expectantly. “This is all very curious, Evelyn.”

Hands clasped in front of her to stop them from shaking, she paced past him and then back. How did one propose such a thing? Bold she might be, but in matters of the...well not the heart, but the body at least? She hadn’t kissed another man since Rupert’s passing. The taste and feel of Pierce still burned on her lips and threatened to light a fuse through the rest of her body. She felt a little like a powder keg next to a lit fire. One spark and she’d explode.

“I have been of the mind to—” No, that was too formal. “Cynfell, I think—” No, too brash.

He stood and brushed his hands down his trousers to straighten them. “Evelyn, out with it. You need not feel uncomfortable around me. I know you are not one to mince your words.”

She gazed into his youthful face and smiled. “I think there are few who feel uncomfortable around you. You have a way of putting people at ease and you well know it.”

Pierce gave a shrug. “I am skilled at many things.”

“And as a lover?”

He skimmed a hand down her arm. “I have had no complaints.”

Evelyn pursed her lips and summoned her courage—a courage that never normally seemed so distant. “What if you were to be my lover?”

“Your lover?” He said the words slowly, tauntingly, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. She had the strong suspicion he was toying with her.

She moved away from him in a bid to ensure he didn’t doubt her words. Setting her hands on her hips, she eyed him. “At this time in my life, I see no point in dancing around the things that one wants. I am attracted to you, Cynfell, and I believe you are to me too.”

“It’s safe to say that, yes.”

“Therefore, I think we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“I’m sure we can find a way to make this very beneficial for both of us.” Pierce slunk closer, forcing her to hold up a palm.”

“I don’t wish for a quick tumble. I am a flesh and blood woman, and I have needs.”

“Yes.” Another step closer.

“What I am trying to say, is that I see no need to waste time. I can offer you much, and in return, you can give me the things for which I wish.”

“And these are?”

“Pleasure, the comfort of another human being, good conversation, company.”

“Not much then,” he said dryly.

“For three months.”

“My, you have thought this out.” His lips twisted into a wry grin.

“And in return, I shall pay off your debts.”

His mouth opened slightly before he snapped it shut. “You’re buying me?”

“Yes.” There was no polite way to put it so she didn’t even try. “I’ve been of a mind to take a lover for a while but no man appealed. Until I met you. I believe you are up to the task.”

Pierce ran his gaze over her from head to toe. She fought the need to fidget or play with the buttons on her gown. Why did he make her wait? It was simple enough. Yes or no. All she wanted was an answer.

He closed the gap once more. Heat leapt between them. For too long, he stood with a mere slip of air separating them. When he brought a hand up to skim a finger down her cheek and along to trace the seam of her lips, she drew in a sharp breath of air. Tingles skittered down her spine.

“You make quite the assumption there.” He pressed the tip of his finger into her open mouth and she tasted the tang of his skin. “What if I am not up to the task?”

Heat gathered between her thighs. How could he not be? It had been so long since she’d felt the touch of a man, and he was sinfully handsome. She also suspected he was wickedly clever—something behind those glinting green eyes told her as much. In her limited experience, an intelligent man knew well how to please a woman.

But he was right. What if they were ill-matched? Evelyn fought through the fog crowding her mind to latch onto the rational side of her brain. She would never rush into a business agreement without ensuring she was receiving a satisfactory product.

“You have tonight,” she said, the words soft and papery. “Tonight to prove you are up to the task.”

Pierce removed his finger from her lips and trailed his gaze over her. “What if, Evelyn, it is you who is not up to the task?”

Indignation made her spine stiff. What was he saying? That she could not please him also? “I will be paying you,” she spluttered. “I hardly think it’s up to me to put in a performance.”

A grin cracked his face. “That’s better.”

He latched an arm around her waist and drew her into him. She fought him for a moment, her teeth gritted with annoyance. How dare he manhandle her like this? She was a duchess, damn him. But then his mouth came down on hers, hard, demanding, and oh so sinful...

Evelyn melted. She gave up any thoughts of being in control when his tongue met hers. Pierce bent her back so that her body was open to him while kissing her deeply, greedily. Her skirts might have prevented her from feeling the brush of his legs, but she was well enough aware of his body hard against her tightly confined breasts. The cotton of her shift and the taffeta gown rubbed against her sensitive nipples.

When he broke the kiss, he released her and left her wavering, taking a step back. She pressed her hands down her gown and took several deep breaths.

“If we do this, I shall not be your servant, at your beck and call.”

She folded her arms. “Well I hardly...” Evelyn drew in a long breath, still winded from his passionate kiss. “I hardly see the benefit in this for me then. What is the sense in me taking a lover if I cannot request of him whatever I wish?”

His grin turned wicked. “You need not request anything, Your Grace. I promise you shall reap the benefits of this arrangement. But I wish for us to be on equal footing. I’ll not be ordered about.”

Narrowing her gaze at him, she lifted her chin. How brazen he was. Here he had come to her, naked and destitute, yet he had the arrogance to make demands of her. He was taking a gamble. Really, she should demand back his clothes and toss him out on his conceited, naked behind. But she couldn’t help admire that boldness. He’d need it if he was going to keep up with her.

Her son would be home in three months. That gave her just over ninety days to make use of him—in many, many ways.

“You agree to do this then? We’ll have tonight together and then...”

“Yes.” He inched forward again. “One night and then you’ll decide if I am good enough for you.” The twinkle in his gaze told her he was jesting with her.

When he took another step closer and leaned in she pressed a finger to his lips. “Three months. No more. My son comes home then. In return, your debts will be gone.”

“It sounds like a fair exchange to me.”

“How do we seal our deal?” she asked huskily.

“A kiss?” He dipped his head toward her and froze with his lips hovering above hers. “No, something more.”

More.
Her eyes near rolled back in her head at the promise in those words. She didn’t know what to do now. The balance of power between them seemed to tip one way and the next. First, it was she who was the seductress, then he stole that control and flipped her about. Heat flared through her body at the promise of what lay between them. She could have everything she’d been longing for with this man—scandal, excitement, pleasure.

Life was for living and she wished to truly live it. Even if only for three months.

BOOK: Sinful Liaisons
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