The Devil Earl (26 page)

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Authors: Deborah Simmons

BOOK: The Devil Earl
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She moved with her usual decisive, no-nonsense step, and yet Sebastian detected a new sway to her hips, evidence of the passionate nature she had once hidden so well. Her hair had been left down to dry, and it fell unheeded down her back, in a shining golden mass that sorely tempted him to run his fingers through it. And, when she was without her spectacles, even the blindest fool could not take her for a homely spinster.

“Prudence,” Sebastian said suddenly, “I believe you can see perfectly well without those glasses of yours.”

Too absorbed in her perusal to look at him, she answered over her shoulder as she made her way around the room. “Unfortunately, I cannot read or write without them, Sebastian. It is the close work for which I must have them.”

“Then why did you wear the blasted things constantly?” he asked, irritated at her for disguising herself so thoroughly.

“I seem to be in the habit of misplacing them, and Phoebe grew tired of helping me search,” Prudence replied, without hesitation. “It just seemed easier to always keep them upon my nose where I could find them.” She turned around, as if abruptly realizing they were gone. “Where are they?”

Sebastian patted his vest pocket. “I have them, and I shall not lose them, so you will leave them off.”

She did not argue, but nodded absently and returned to her inspection, while Sebastian, in turn, settled back to his. She appeared five years younger without the damned things, he mused, and there was a new flush about her, highlighting her cheekbones. Her wide mouth, too, looked rosy and well loved…and tempting.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware that this one slender woman was like a fever in his blood. He did not seem able to slake his thirst for her. As if that were not disturbing enough, he had no wish to, either. And that was
truly
alarming. He smiled wryly, oblivious of the darker connotations of his need for her. Actually, he was growing quite accustomed to the notion of Prudence Lancaster in his life, he admitted, with no little surprise.

They would live here, he decided, for she seemed to be in her element along the harsh Cornish coast. London had sapped her of her energies, while Wolfinger fed them. The rather desolate abbey was the perfect complement for his gothic authoress, Sebastian thought, a strange emotion he barely recognized as pride surging through him.

Yes, he realized, he was actually proud of this monstrosity the Ravenscars had called home for centuries. It had always intrigued him, but he had ignored it to pursue his hedonistic life in London. Now, however, it would be just the thing for the two of them. He could easily imagine Prudence writing here at the massive desk, her slender hands stained with ink…

Sebastian frowned at his growing arousal. He was well and truly smitten, if such visions could excite him! He eyed her hungrily when she stepped toward the desk where he was perched, peeking into drawers and studying the carpeting beneath. Her golden head bobbed closer, her pert breasts taunting him from the top of her modest bodice, and Sebastian felt the same urge he always had: to lay her bare. To strip her of her neat, practical exterior, until she was writhing passionately beneath him.

Oblivious of the direction of his thoughts, she spoke to him over her shoulder. “Next, I would like you to show me the route you took outside, and where you saw James on the cliffs.”

Sebastian drew a deep breath and released it slowly. He was no longer in the mood to pursue any mysteries except those hidden beneath her gown. As she moved nearer, he could feel her heat and smell the bath scent on her skin. He remembered that slow, endless interlude in the water, the way she had touched him, the depth of her response, and the memory made him ache.

In one swift movement, Sebastian swung from his position and reached for her, setting her on the edge of the desk. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, one of her hands fluttering to rest upon a large bronze wolf’s head that stood beside her. And, for once, Sebastian missed the spectacles he so enjoyed removing.

They were gone, however, and she stared up at him with wide hazel eyes, bright with highlights and dark wells of wisdom. How dear she was to him! How beautiful and
strong and good! “Pru,” he whispered. And then he kissed her.

She protested at first, mumbling something about her mission, but he refused to be denied, and soon her slender arms were around his neck, her anything-but-spinsterish mouth moving beneath his in abandon. His hands slid over her familiar curves, possessing them, marking her as his own, and he cupped her breasts, pushing them upward, so that more of her smooth skin was bared to his lips.

When she wound her fingers in his hair and moaned, Sebastian wanted to take her right there upon the desk, but the library doors stood ajar, and he did not trust himself to be discreet. Prudence’s back was to the entrance, however, and he knew of a less obvious pleasure he could give her.

Even as he pushed up her gown, Sebastian felt himself tighten in eagerness. It was amazing, this wanting. Stronger than anything he had ever known, it threatened to consume him, and he let it, reveling in the life that surged through him at last.

“Sebastian, not here!” Prudence whispered, but he was already spreading her pale thighs and urging her toward his seeking mouth. His nostrils flared at the scent of her excitement, and he made a low sound of satisfaction before tasting her.

She was sweeter than any wine. Heady. Intoxicating. Sebastian let her skirts fall over his head, so that no one glancing in the door would see him, and beneath them there was nothing but darkness and heat and
her.

Her soft sounds egged him on until he felt her legs grow taut and her body convulse. “Oh! Oh!” she cried, and Sebastian knew a satisfaction that had nothing to do with his own need. The loud thump that followed made him scoot out from under her skirts, but, to his relief, he saw that they were still alone.

Prudence was lying back upon the desk like a dead thing, and, for a moment, Sebastian thought she might have struck
her head, but then he noticed the bronze wolf lying upon the floor. Apparently she had knocked it aside in her frenzy.

Smiling, Sebastian bent to retrieve it. “Really, Pru, you must be more careful with the abbey’s artifacts,” he said smoothly as he returned it to its place.

She lifted herself up on her elbows, the rosy flush of excitement still clinging to her flawless skin, and eyed him askance. “I beg your pardon,” she said. “My mind was upon…other things.”

“Understandable,” Sebastian replied, with a nod.

“Oh, my,” Prudence muttered. “That was certainly… invigorating. Now I suppose you should like me to do the same for you.”

Sebastian’s entire body grew rigid, his already hard sex painfully so.
Did she mean what he thought she meant?

She smiled, her lovely lips curving artlessly, as she contemplated his response. “I can see by your hopeful expression that you do.”

Sebastian cleared his throat, so as to be heard above the thundering of his heart. “Would you?” he croaked, like a boy in the throes of his first encounter. In his long, wicked past, he had engaged in far more exotic acts than this, but the thought of Prudence’s mouth upon him made him shaky with need.

Prudence nodded serenely, and Sebastian did not hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms and whirled around.

“But you cannot carry me about like this!” she protested. “What will Mrs. Worth think?”

“We need not worry about my housekeeper,” he answered, “for we shall not take a route that can be marked. You will have to excuse the dust, my dear, but I find myself in a hurry to reach my bedroom.”

Walking toward a bookshelf, Sebastian reached for one of the innumerable gargoyles that decorated the abbey and pushed upon its head. Even after all these years, the mechanism
worked soundlessly, and a section of the wall swung away to reveal the blackness beyond.

“Sebastian! Do not tell me there is a secret passage!” Prudence squeaked in delight. Hoping that no rats had taken up resident since his last trip up these stairs, Sebastian moved inside, watched the entrance close behind them, and climbed upward.

“But you must put me down! We need a light. Perhaps there is some clue in here to James’s disappearance.”

Ignoring Prudence’s protests, Sebastian ran lightly up the dark steps with the aid of his memory and pushed against a door that led into his chambers.

“This is wonderful!” Prudence exclaimed as a tall cupboard fell back into place, disguising their path. “But we must investigate—”

“Later, Pru,” Sebastian said as he let her slide down his body to her feet. Already he was fumbling with the fall of his breeches like a country clod, anticipation singing through him. “I believe you promised me something,” he said, “and I am most anxious to collect it.
Now.

Sebastian placed a gentle kiss upon Prudence’s bare back and was rewarded with her soft sigh. Her contentment matched his own, he realized with a smile, and he leaned down to kiss her smooth skin again. One thing had led to another, and now they were ensconced in his bed, deliciously satiated…for a while.

Relaxing against the pillows, Sebastian enjoyed the mere memory of the heart-stopping climax her untutored efforts had garnered him. Would she always surprise him? He glanced down to where her golden hair lay tangled amid the bedding and felt himself stir again, although he knew such pleasure played only a part in his desire for her.

From the first time he had made love to her, in the tower room, Sebastian had realized their union involved more than the delights of the flesh. Yes, those delights were considerable,
and more satisfying than anything he had ever experienced, but with Prudence, there was more. A cerebral connection. A communion of souls.

By God, even such lofty terms failed to describe how he felt, and although Sebastian knew his uncle would have laughed uproariously at his thoughts, he refused to mock what had become, for him, something that went beyond mere sex.

Alone of all the women he had ever known, Prudence took him to a place he had never been before, for when he was deep inside her, he was deep inside himself, too, in some long-forgotten core of his being that only she could reach.

“Are there any maps of the abbey?” she asked.

Her abrupt question stunned him, and then he laughed aloud. So much for his soul-searching! “Very well, Pru. I can see that you have been distracted from your purpose long enough,” he said.

She turned over, and he regarded her from under the arm he had flung across his forehead. “Well, it is getting late,” she said in an apologetic tone, even as she looked at his chest with more than a little interest. “And what must Mrs. Worth think?”

Sebastian reached down to pluck a long golden lock from her breast and twirl it around his finger. “I cannot care. Though I suspect she is worried that you are being sorely used by the Devil Earl. As you are,” he added with a frown. “I cannot get enough of you, Pru. You must tell me if my attentions become annoying.”

Prudence smiled, a flash of white teeth against her lush mouth and golden skin. “Surely no woman has ever told you that!”

Sebastian’s grip on her hair tightened as his eyes sought hers. “You are not any woman, Pru.”

“I know,” she whispered, covering his hand with her own. For a long moment, their gazes locked, and something passed between them—reassurances that he could not
have put into words, and that she, for all her cleverness with her pen, made no effort to say aloud.

Should he ask her now? The idea came to him so suddenly and so startlingly, that Sebastian looked away, unable to hold her eyes. He felt oddly faint—euphoric and wary all at once. It was like the first few times he had seen her. He had to get up and stretch. And think.

He rolled from the bed and reached for his breeches. “There is no map of the abbey, that I know,” he muttered.

“Drat,” Prudence said, apparently oblivious of his swift change of mood. “Well, you shall just have to draw one out for me, and, of course, we must explore all the secret passageways.”

“There are only two, and I will gladly indulge your curiosity,” he said, a bit more gruffly than he intended. What he was thinking of was ridiculous, impossible…within reach.

He heard her dressing, although he still did not glance at her. “We shall need plenty of light, of course,” she noted. “I do not want to miss anything in the dark. I am determined to clear your good name, Sebastian.”

That
made him turn around—and swiftly. Whirling, Sebastian stared at the lovely young woman who was now facing him. Unlike all her predecessors, she wore a simple, modest gown and was pinning up her hair without the slightest guile. She seemed totally unconcerned about the loss of
her
innocence,
her
reputation and
her
good name, yet she was worried about his.

Sebastian felt as if he had been struck in the chest, and the decision that had seemed so difficult only a moment ago settled into place effortlessly. Now, he had but to put it into action. He cleared his throat.

“Hurry, will you? I just know we shall find something!” she said, smiling at him brightly.

“Pru, I-” He faltered.

“How does this thing work?” she asked, poking at the cupboard that hid the passage. “Fetch two lanterns, will you? I would like one for myself,” she called over her shoulder.

“Damn it, Pru!” Sebastian snapped. “I fail to see what these secret stairs have to do with James. You cannot expect me to believe he lost his way in his own house?”

She turned toward him with a look that questioned his wits. “You can ask that after what happened to us? What if the window in the tower room had been barred and we could not have gotten out? Wolfinger is larger than I ever imagined, with wings and galleries that are rarely visited. Can you account for each door?”

Sebastian’s gut clenched at her suggestion. Despite his jaded manner, he had enough imagination to envision such a fate. “But James was outside when he disappeared,” he protested.

“Still, we must explore all avenues,” Prudence said matter-of-factly.

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