Trust Me (14 page)

What an intimate,
personal nickname. It was easy to picture a soft, submissive woman, someone who
fell to her knees just as easily as Anne. Someone who could offer Jon anything
and everything that Anne did.

An eerie shiver
tingled up and down her spine. She turned back and met Maria’s eyes, full of
malice.

She sucked in her
breath and glanced away and caught sight of a tall, lean man as he entered the
drawing chamber. The light from the small, high circular window played upon
golden hair with just a touch of red, worn long and tied at the nape with a
plain black ribbon. Such an old fashioned style. Yet he was a young man, surely
not yet thirty. Handsome, in a refined way, with a broad, square jaw… A lump
lodged in her throat. He looked just like…

Papa.

“Saxby,” Maria called
out in a smooth, seductive tone.

“Lady Waterbury.” His
voice was deeper than Anne remembered. But then, she remembered a stern,
studious-natured boy. He was, of course, the new Duke of Saxby. He had come
after all, the only blood relation of hers still residing in England. He had
not taken his eyes from Anne. He didn’t look stern today. No, he looked calm,
thoughtful. He nodded to her. “Lady Ruel.”

She remembered to
curtsy, slightly bending knees that were a bit wobbly today. “Your Grace.”

She should have said
more but the mix of agitation and happiness froze her wits. He regarded her
intently and she remained as she was, staring dumbly back at him.

His smile seemed to
falter, his mouth dropping open the barest amount.

She had to glance
down.

“Do you know that I
have never looked at you before—” He cleared his throat noisily. The sound
echoed in the drawing room, jarring and sharp.

Unwittingly, she
flinched.

He exhaled loudly.
“Oh, listen to me, what a thing to say to a lady… Ah, I mean, I have never
truly
looked at you before.”

Goodness. What to say
to that?

He laughed, but the
sound stilted, awkward. “I shall loathe myself from here on for the oversight.”

Where was the serious
boy? Had he always been so forward? She flicked a glance at him.

“If I had noticed
what a beauty you’ve become, I would have come to Whitecross. I would made a
grand romantic gesture and begged you to be my duchess.”

What an absurd
comment! She cut him another glance.

He raised his
eyebrows and nodded.

A laugh bubbled up
from her stomach and all her agitation seemed to melt away.

“Ah, well, I suppose
you probably still prefer your dashing Lord Ruel, even though he is a mere
earl.”

Joy spilled over and
she smiled, so broadly her face felt stretched. She nodded. “I fear I do.”

He offered her his
hand. “Then I had better take you to him.”

“I should never do
anything as unfashionable as hover about my husband all afternoon.”

“But he does appear
in need of rescue.”

“Rescue?”

“Yes, he appears
quite beleaguered. It is quite a burden upon a gentleman to be so popular with
the ladies. They can be so demanding, so draining.”

“What makes you think
he feels put upon in the least?” she asked with a smile.

“Because he married
such a quiet, thoughtful lady. A gentleman couldn’t help but look at you and
feel at peace.”

She placed her gloved
hand in his and he took it. With a quick glace down, he tucked her hand into
the crook of his arm. The beauty of his hazel eyes struck her. No, more than
mere beauty. His eyes were exceedingly kind. Soulful. She had never noticed
them before.

He was not stern, not
aloof and cold. He was merely a quiet, reserved gentleman. He understood about
shyness and he’d been teasing, albeit awkwardly, to distract her.

He paused, whilst
patting her hand where he’d placed it on his arm. “You always have a friend in
me, Lady Ruel. Remember this.”

As they approached
Jon and his group of ladies, he glanced over his shoulder, as though he had
sensed the pull of her gaze. He was smiling at her, in that way that crinkled
the fine lines around his eyes. But his gaze looked concerned. He came to her
and, placing his hand on her upper arm, drew her close.

The heat of his body
and the presence of his strength surrounded her. And she was glad of it, for a
tall, blonde lady with green eyes was staring at her so intently. He was introducing
Anne to this lady.

The Duchess of…
something.

Anne could hardly
hear him over the pounding of her heart.

But Anne nodded and
somehow said the proper thing. Jon still held her firmly against himself and
she couldn’t curtsey. And it seemed so improper for them to be touching like
this. No, it
was
improper.

Yet, Anne was shaking
now. She couldn’t have managed to bend her knees. What the devil was the matter
with her? She’d met the queen and not been this overcome.

Then again, the queen
hadn’t stared at her like this. Nor had the queen bedded the man who was now
her husband…

Oh goodness, she
shouldn’t think like that! She had no idea if Maria were telling the truth or
not about these particular ladies.

Jon introduced her to
the lower ranking ladies. A couple of baronet’s wives. A baron’s widow.

They were talking to
Jon. Talking about Anne as though she weren’t there. Teasing him about his
married state.

Surely it was all so
rude.

But then, she’d known
that Jon had tended to run in improper circles.

He answered the
women’s boorish remarks each in their turn, at times cutting the commenter with
his sharp wit. Oh heavens, if these chits had any sense, they would have fled
in tears of shame.

But they didn’t seem
to have a speck of sense.

Except for the Duchess…
Duchess of Lukecaster? Yes, that was her name. She was very quiet and still
staring holes through Anne.

Was this really
necessary?

And all the while,
Jon’s hold on Anne tightened, preventing her escape. She felt foolish.
Childlike.

Jon asked the Duchess
of Lukecaster about her husband’s horses and the conversation changed. Jon
asked Anne a few questions about her father’s horses and she managed to answer
him. But her replies were monosyllabic, stupid-sounding even to her. She would
remember this day forever and cringe.

The Duke of Saxby
joined the discussion, his face lighting with avid interest.

Yet to Anne it all
seemed to be talk and talk and talk about nothing. It seemed to go on forever.
It was all she could do to come up with new things to say. And it was fatiguing
her mind to have to think so hard.

How would she endure
all the afternoons and nights to come of this sort of life?

The air seemed to
have become thinner and thinner as the group’s chatter carried on without
interruption, until the faces around her seemed to spin.

“I need to speak with
Lady Ruel for a moment. Pardon us.” Jon’s voice sounded unnaturally loud.

The next thing she
knew, she was stumbling to stay apace with him. He led her to the corridor and
then to a small antechamber and closed the door behind them with a
firm-sounding click.

He spun her around to
face the wall. She felt his fingers moving over her gown, unlacing her. Then he
was unlacing her stays.

The garment gaped
away from her body and she took a gulp of air.

And then another.

“Sit,” he commanded
sharply.

She collapsed on the
puce-coloured chaise lounge, still gulping for breath.

He sat beside her and
traced a fingertip over her flesh. “Damn it.”

She cringed.

“I told you not to
allow Nellie to lace you so tightly.”

“But you don’t
understand…” she said breathlessly.

“You nearly fainted
out there.”

“Well, it is just too
warm for a fire with the sunlight coming in the windows and—”

“No, it’s not. And
quit making excuses.”

“Why did you did that
out there?”

“Do what?”

“Take hold of me and
detain me, as though I were your daughter and not—”

“Anne, when you first
came to me, you were pale, trembling. I thought you would faint then.” He
narrowed his eyes. “Something disturbed you?”

Of course something
had disturbed her.

Lady Maria Waterbury.

How would she ever
explain without bringing up things she’d rather not?

“Why would you
dignify those silly women’s ill-mannered comments?”

“Because it never
pays to act defensive. Not with anyone. They were looking to provoke an
emotional outburst from you.” He gave her neck a slight squeeze. “I was proud
that you did not rise to the bait but remained so perfectly aloof. As I said,
for you, it is better to give the impression of being haughty rather than shy.”

He sounded proud of
her. Maybe he was. But he was also making Society sound like a battle or
gauntlet that must be navigated just so if one was to survive it. Certainly, it
felt that way to her.

She shrugged. “I am
not used to all of this.”

He tapped a fingertip
on her back. “You could do yourself a lot of good by not lacing yourself so
tight.”

“Yes.” What else
could she say?

“I’ll have to punish
you for this.”

“Will you really?”

“I gave you an order
pertaining to the well-being and safety of your person, and you wilfully
disobeyed. Of course I shall punish you.”

“Now?” she asked,
somehow not quite accepting that he really would. It was a little misjudgement,
a small act of disobedience born of nerves and her wish to present her best
self.

Goodness, she’d
fallen quite far from that mark!

“Not now,” he said,
humour lightening his voice. “Should we have all of our guests listening at the
door whilst I spank your arse?”

“No, I suppose not.”
Despite a tremor of apprehension at the prospect of punishment, she couldn’t
suppress a small smile at the image his words conjured.

He reached inside his
coat and withdrew a flask then uncapped it. “Here, have some of this.”

She sniffed it. “It’s
Scotch.”

“Drink some.”

She wrinkled her nose
and took a tentative sip.

It was somehow disagreeable
in a way she couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t anything like tasting it on his
tongue when he kissed her.

He tapped her
shoulder. “More.”

She took a deeper
drink.

Full strength, it
tasted like ashes and it burned like hell, all the way down her throat. It hit
her stomach like a ball of fire.

“Oh!” She pushed the
flask back at him. “That’s dreadful!”

He pushed it back at
her. “Take another.”

She took another
drink and tried not to gag as it passed over her tongue and down her throat.
“God!” She thrust the flask back at him.

He rubbed her
shoulders and neck. “You should tell me when you are feeling poorly, Anne. I
will always find a way to remove you from the situation.”

“It caught me by
surprise.”

He gripped the back
of her neck. “We’re going to be in many overheated, crowded places over the
next few weeks. I don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor at some
point.”

“I forgot my fan. I
left it on my night table.”

“Well, be more
mindful next time.” He ran a caressing hand down her bared back.

She sighed.

“Feeling better, are
you, wench?”

She glanced over her
shoulder. “I suppose I am.”

Those lines around
his eyes crinkled slightly. His hand came to rest on the swell of her left
breast, above the rounded neckline of her gown.

His touch was warm,
faintly roughened and her heart went fluttering.

“Take away all those
embroidered roses and yes, I suppose you do look like a dairy maid.” His words
were spoken close to her ear and sent delicious shivers through her. He pulled
her bodice and undergarments down then ran his hand slowly over her breasts.

Her nipples tightened
and pleasure radiated from where he touched, sending sparks deep into her
belly. “What are you doing?” she asked breathily.

“Shh, wench.” He
rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefingers.

He stood.

She stared at the
tent in his trousers.

He touched her
breasts, squeezing them in his large, strong hands. “Unfasten me, Nan.”

Chapter Eight

“But we’ve been in
here too long already,” Anne said, her mind spinning with Jon’s request.

“It doesn’t matter.”
He was handling her a little more roughly now, pinching her nipples, squeezing
her softness more firmly.

Sparks of excitement
tingled in her blood. It was hard to focus. To remember where they were or what
was happening. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter? What will… Our guests
are waiting for us to return.”

“Indeed they are. And
that arouses you, Nan.”

Well, she couldn’t
deny that. It did arouse her. Hearing him confront her with the fact caused
wetness to gush between her legs. All those people, so very close by… Surely it
wasn’t decent. “But Jon—”

“Hush, wench, and
obey me.”

She bent and applied
herself to his fall. She tried to unfasten the buttons but her hands were
shaking with her growing anticipation.

“We have to hurry, my
darling,” he said.

His words made her
hands shake all the more. She glanced up at him. “I am sorry, my hands…”

He chuckled softly
and brushed her hands aside. She watched as he made quick work of his buttons
and then pulled out his cock.

She took hold of it.
He throbbed in her hand. She bent forward and put her lips to the crown and
slid them over it, thrilling to the silken texture. He hardened like steel in
her grasp. Her heart raced with a fluttery, pleasurable apprehension.

It was a very, very
naughty thing to be doing. Shockingly so. The others in the drawing room were
close enough that she could hear their voices and laughter.

He touched her hair
softly, as though he were mindful of her elegant hairstyle. All Nellie’s hard
work.

Anne ran her tongue
around the head of his cock and licked the fluid that leaked out. Her face
flamed with the incredible exhilaration rising in her blood. She stroked her
hand up and down his shaft then glided her tongue up and down its full length.
His erection jerked and she glanced up at him. His eyes were darkened and he
was flushed as well. In that moment, she felt almost of one mind with him. They
were both so incredibly aroused. To be doing this here, now. They were like a
pair of child miscreants who had run away from their nurses and were bound to
find the most rebellious business they could get themselves into.

It was a delicious
feeling.

She leant forwards
and swallowed him in one swift slide.

His body jerked and
he swayed on his feet, as though taken unawares by the power of the sensation.
He groaned and grasped her shoulders.

He swayed again,
slightly this time, but still definitely weak in the knees. A sense of her
power swept over her and she redoubled her efforts, moving her mouth over his
shaft with every ounce of skill he’d taught her .

He put his hands on
either side of her face and gently, yet quite firmly, held her immobile. Then
he began to fuck her mouth, her throat.

Somehow, that seemed
even more forbidden than what they’d been doing thus far. Her blood pulsed
hotter. Her cunt clenched hungrily. She pressed her legs together.

He was breathing
harshly, increasing the speed of his thrusts. His hips arched forward and he
held himself frozen, pressing deeper. His fingers threaded into her hair,
gripping her head.

He pulled back and
jerked himself from her mouth. “Kneel for me.”

She stared up at his
frowning expression, feeling dazed. “What?”

“Kneel for me,” he
said in a harsh tone. He grasped her shoulders.

She went limp and let
him turn her body and she put her hands and knees on the cushion.

He pressed her head
down until her cheek touched the soft velvet. “Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

He flipped up her
skirts and cooler air washed over her arse. He touched her wet slit and thrust two
fingers into her. He made a soft hiss. “So very wet.”

She could feel
herself becoming even wetter.

“I am going to fuck
you, the way the master would if he had a dairy maid in the stables, hard and
quick.” He thrust his fingers back and forth, harshly.

She inhaled and
gritted her teeth, writhing and trying to be silent.

“You must be silent,
Nan. If you make a noise, I won’t let you come at all.”

Intense, unbearable
thrills quivered through her. Cries welled in her throat and she swallowed them
back. The suppressed energy made her shake from head to foot.

“Be still,” he
ordered severely.

She tried so hard the
effort brought tears to her eyes. Oh God,
oh God
.

He withdrew his
fingers.

Her mouth opened to
protest but she closed her throat off to the wail just at the last moment.

He put his cock to
her entrance and with one swift, powerful thrust, embedded himself within her
to the hilt.

Pleasure washed over
her from head to foot. Her face flamed with it, her feet twitched and her cunt
was clenching him in a frenzy.

He moved within her
fast and hard, just as he had said he would. The crown of his cock rocked
against the mouth of her womb over and over, battering her. Shocks of delight
shook her. Her throat burned, her jaw ached, all from the effort it took to stay
silent. To stay still as he’d bidden her.

He was fucking her
savagely.

Oh God, but it was
good, so good. Sweat poured all over her body, stinging her eyes.

She wanted to be
naked. She wanted to be able to moan and scream and thrash.

Oh God, oh dear
God.

Tears streamed down
her cheeks. She bit her lip and tasted coppery blood.

He paused. She
couldn’t hear him breathing over the fearsome pounding of her own heart but she
could feel his panting breaths, shaking her.

“You must come very
fast, I won’t wait for you.”

Her arousal jumped to
a fiery peak that was unbearable. Like pain, torturous pain. She began to
writhe, to rub her hardened nipples against the velvet. They began to burn.
Such a sweet delicious burn.

He grasped her hair
so hard, she was forced to lift her body off the cushions and crane her neck.

“Be still,” he
ordered.

He pounded her then.

She had thought he
had fucked her hard, so many times in the past. But he’d been holding back. For
now he gave her such a powerful fucking, she thought she would die with it.

And then she was
dying. Everything inside her exploding, shooting daggers of fire from deep in
her loins, her womb, up into her belly, her chest and into her limbs out to her
very fingertips and toes. And that was just the first wave, more came and came
and came.

She fell limp to the
chaise, darkness swallowing her up.

The world was
spinning. She let her eyes drift open and watched as the ceiling came into
view. His soft chuckle seemed to echo from a great distance in her ears that still
hummed with violent heartbeats. She glanced at him. His face was flushed, his
pupils still dilated. He ran a hand over her breasts.

“Look at what you’ve
done to yourself.”

She gazed down at her
breasts. They were red and they were still burning from her having rubbed them
so frantically on the velvet. She sat up halfway.

Come gushed from
between her legs. She froze. But it was too late, a flood of it rushed out. The
earthy scent filled the air.

He glanced down.
“That’s what happens to naughty dairy maids who wander into the manor.”

“The chaise…”

“What about it?”

“It’s ruined.”

“Well, I say good
riddance. It is the ugliest piece of furniture in this entire house.”

“What will the
servants think?”

“We’ll tell them
Tiberia—”

“Yes, Tiberia.”

He laughed.

She laughed. Then she
tried to sit up the whole way. But her legs were so weak. She looked at him,
alarmed. “I don’t think I can move.”

“Just wait a moment.”
He caressed her thighs, lingering at the junction where his seed wet her. “We
went to the heights, eh?”

She nodded, still
feeling the strong ticking and pulsing of her flesh.

His look turned
thoughtful. “Do you need to come again?”

He flicked her still
erect nub with one finger.

The over sensitivity
made her jump. “No, no—God no.”

A look of determined
wickedness lit his eyes. “You would if it pleased me.”

She held her breath.
It would surely kill her to be forced back up to the heights.
Oh mercy,
don’t let him take that notion seriously.

But he didn’t. He
stood, his gaze resting on her warmly whilst he tucked in his shirttails and
refastened his trousers.

Except for lingering
high colour, he looked completely unruffled, whilst she was… a disaster.

“I am in desperate
need of a bath.”

He gazed back at her
with an unconcerned air. “You have your petticoats.”

****

In the end, Nellie
had to come to her. The older woman kept her lips compressed whilst she
hurriedly helped Anne to repair the damage to her hair and clothing.

When she’d been wed to
William, Anne had not appreciated how very intimate was the position of a
lady’s maid.

Now it was painfully
apparent. With relief, she rushed out of the little antechamber, down the
corridor to the drawing room.

Every eye seemed to
focus upon her.

She had nothing.
Absolutely nothing to feel ashamed about. There was nothing amiss about her
appearance.

If one discounted her
slightly swollen, bruised looking lips.

All right, so her
lord had thoroughly kissed her. What of it?

She took a deep
breath and walked across the expanse of floor. The crowd parted for her, people
were watching her so closely. Frank curiosity upon their faces.

Then she met Jon’s
eyes.

He winked at her.

Heat washed over her
face, crawling down her neck, burning her ears. She looked away from him and
sought the sidebar.

She desperately
needed a cool drink. But the lemonade was sickly sweet and made her feel
slightly ill. She set the cup down determinedly and looked up.

Jon was talking with
a group of young men. But then he glanced at her. And he brushed his left lapel

She caught her
breath. They had talked about that. When he gave her that sign, she was to drop
whatever she was doing and attend to him immediately. She went to him and he
took her hand, holding it firmly.

A thread of uneasiness
curled about her navel. She glanced up.

The Duchess of
Lukecaster was looking at her, her vivid green eyes glittering with pure
jealousy.

****

The guests had
finally left. Jon watched the subtle bounce of Anne ‘s beautiful bosom as she
climbed the stairs.

Once she reached the
landing, he grasped her about her waist and in one hasty motion, jerked her to
him. “Alone at last.”

“So we are.”

He put his hands on
her arse and drew her tight to his body. He was hard as iron for her and he
waited to see her reaction.

She frowned.
“Everyone knows what we did.”

“They weren’t sure,
Anne.”

“You think so?” She
sounded so eager to believe.

He nodded. “They
weren’t sure—” he leant near and lightly nipped the very tip of her nose. “That
is, not until your face erupted into flames.”

“Oh.” She leaned into
him. “But you seem so unconcerned.”

“It has often been
said, that if one is the subject of unwanted gossip, it is best to give people
something equally shocking yet less damning to talk about instead.”

“Oh goodness, you
think this is less damning?”

“Less damning for
people to think I can’t keep my hands off of you rather than that I was forced
to marry you?”

Her breasts rose and
feel with a deep breath. “Well, I suppose…”

“They are not sure
what happened. Not exactly. That makes it all the more titillating for them.
They would have talked for days about you and I, regardless of the afternoon’s
events. But this way, we have taken a measure of control over what specifically
is being said.” His cock throbbed frantically. God, he just wanted to get her
skirts up again and bury himself cods deep in her tight, hot little cunt.

Had he ever wanted a
woman like this? Christ, he was insatiable for her.