Читать книгу The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 35

Penny looked on with curiosity as Gabriel rolled his sleeves to the elbow, leaned over the immense copper tub, and gripped the water tap.

“Say a prayer to the gods of modern plumbing,” he advised her. “And if you know any, a ward against witchcraft.”

He turned the tap and water flowed into the tub—clear, plentiful, and steaming hot.

“That’s more like it,” he muttered.

“Hot running water?” She stretched her arm into the bath and swirled the water with her fingertips. “I hereby retract all my complaints about construction noise. This is a miracle.”

“It certainly took an act of God to achieve.”

He turned the other tap, adding cold water to balance the hot. Then he reached for a vial of attar roses and added a few drops to the bath. The room filled with fragrant steam.

“There are towels.” He indicated a stack of immaculate white flannel towels, folded in perfect squares. “Soap is there, by the basin. I’ll be seeing to a few things downstairs, but you’ve only to ring if you need anything and I’ll come at once.”

“Wait.” She turned her back to him and lifted her hair. “Help me with the hooks, if you would?”

He undid the fastenings carefully and loosened the tapes of her corset, as well. His manner wasn’t seductive, merely gentle.

“I’ll hang a dressing gown on the hook outside the door,” he said. “Take as long as you like.”

Once he’d gone, Penny slid her arms free of her frock, untied her corset and petticoats, and unbuttoned her chemise. She pushed the layers of fabric down over her hips, shedding them all at once, like a skin. The tile was cold beneath her bare feet, but when she lowered herself into the deep tub, the heat enveloped her.

Heaven.

The bathwater wrapped around her like a hug. One that embraced every part of her equally. A hand, a knee, a breast, an earlobe—the water didn’t distinguish between them. She submerged herself to the crown of her head and let the warmth flow over and around her.

The water had gone almost cold before she could bring herself to leave the bath. After drying herself with soft towels, she slipped into the comically enormous dressing gown he’d left her. She could have fit in one sleeve. The embroidered silk hem trailed behind her as she walked to the bed.

She must have fallen asleep the moment her head touched the pillow, because when Penny next opened her eyes, the windows revealed full darkness outside, and there was a toasty fire glowing in the fireplace. Across the room, Gabriel sat at an escritoire, poring over papers by the light of a single candle sconce.

When she rolled over and stretched, he lifted his head. “If it isn’t Goldilocks. I hope this means the bed was just right.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m glad you were able to sleep, that’s all.”

“So am I. Thank you.” She came back to herself with a start. “Bixby. George. Marigold. Ang—”

“I’ve seen to them,” he assured her. “All of them.”

“Really? But how did you know what to do?”

He sifted through his stack of papers and withdrew a thick envelope that looked familiar. “A few weeks past, someone was good enough to write out instructions in ridiculous detail.”

She smiled and hugged her knees to her chest.

At her feet, a fold of the bed linens wriggled. A wet black nose appeared, followed by a whiskered snout.

“Bixby!” She reached for the dog and pulled him into her arms for cuddles and kisses. The pup was beside himself, turning in circles and licking her everywhere he could reach. “Oh, darling. Look at you. How did you end up here?”

Gabriel crossed the room to stand at the bedside. “I knew you needed an animal in your bed. And I didn’t think it should be me tonight.”

“There’s room for another.”

He joined her on the bed. Bixby nosed his hand, and he ruffled the dog’s fur. They’d made friends, apparently.

Penny’s heart swelled. “You,” she said, “are the best man in the world.”

He chuckled. “That is most definitely not the case.”

“But it is.” She smoothed the terrier’s brown coat. “The night I found Bixby in the back alley, he was quivering and underfed, dragging his hind legs behind him. They’d been crushed by a cartwheel, or perhaps a horse’s hoof. The veterinary surgeon came. He amputated the unsalvageable bits and set what remained with splints, but he gave him poor odds to survive the night. Don’t name him, he warned me. It will only be harder when he dies.”

She smiled and spoke to the pup in her arms. “But his warning was too late, wasn’t it? You were already Bixby, and we both knew you had the heart and determination to survive. Two years later, and you’re chasing squirrels across the green like the terror you were born to be.”

She lifted her head to Gabriel. “This is the best dog in the world. And I don’t need to meet any other dogs to feel sure of it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Did you just compare me to a dog?”

“I know, I’m not certain you deserve the compliment, either.” She set Bixby down at her side. “I don’t need to dance—or flirt, or walk, or go driving—with any other men to know you’re the best of them all.”

“I just hope that everything we shared was …” His fingers combed through her hair. “I mean, what happened in the alley was rather—”

“Extraordinary.” She slid closer, taking one of his hands in both of hers. “What happened in the alley was nothing short of exhilarating. I mean, the part where you tried to leave me forever was quite poorly done, but up until that … ? Immensely satisfying.”

He released a deep breath. “I’m glad of it.”

“I’m glad of it, too. I know most girls spend their youths dreaming of the thrill of a first kiss, the passion in a first touch …” With the pad of her thumb, she drew small, lazy shapes in the palm of his hand. “I never expected to have those firsts myself. To be honest, I doubted I’d want them. And then I met you, and everything was different. I thought it was lust at first sight. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And not in a romantic, Prince Charming way. In a naked way.”

He laughed a little.

“It was so unnerving.”

“I can only imagine.”

“But wonderful. Looking back, I don’t think it was lust at first sight. It was trust at first sight. I felt safe with you. All those firsts that I believed had been stolen from me … With you, I got them all back. I took them back, on my own terms. I only wish I could go back and help recover all the firsts you missed, too.”

“I’ve had some firsts of my own. First time being sneezed on by a Highland steer. First time playing midwife to a goat. First sham sandwich. That was a last, as well.”

She poked him in the ribs. “You are terrible, and I love you.”

He reached for her, cradling her cheek in his hand. “Hearing those words was a first.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But it won’t be a last.”

And because she knew he wouldn’t take the lead tonight, she leaned forward to kiss him.

Her kiss was sweet and searching. Gabe wasn’t certain how to respond. He didn’t want to refuse her, but he’d be damned if he’d press her one touch further than she wished to proceed. So he let her take the lead, making himself open to everything she wanted to give—even when she kissed and caressed his body with a tenderness so foreign to him, he wasn’t certain he could have borne it for anything less than love of her.

She hiked the hem of his shirt and shrugged out of the dressing gown he’d given her. They peeled away all the layers until they were both fully naked, and from there it was the simple, beautiful inevitability of joining. Clasping, holding, moving together in an unhurried rhythm that nonetheless quickly brought them to the brink. Her fingernails bit into his shoulders as she shivered and cried out with release. As he raced toward his own climax, she held him close, forbidding him to leave her embrace. He surrendered to the temptation, spending inside her with a primal, possessive joy.

Afterward, she snuggled in his arms. “You don’t need to save my reputation, but I hope you know you’re going to undermine your own. Long engagements and weddings in St. George Hanover Square? Not terribly ruthless or intimidating, Mr. The Duke of Ruin.”

“I’m not going to undermine my reputation,” he said. “I’m going to destroy it, thoroughly. For you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I love you so dearly for it.”

He was going to give her everything. Even if it meant living in her world, among the aristocrats he despised, choking back his pride and resentment.

The Duke of Ruin died here today, in her arms. And Gabe wasn’t entirely certain who he’d be going forward, but he knew one thing. He would be her husband and protector. And he would never allow anyone to hurt her again.

Along that line of thought, he had best return her to her house before morning broke.

“I need to see you home,” he said. “The last thing we need now is for a neighbor across the square to see you tiptoeing from my house to yours at dawn. Courting scandal at this stage would only give your family reason to object.”

“I’m tempted to argue, but I won’t.”

“I’ll check the corridor,” Gabe said. “We don’t want Mrs. Burns surprising us again.”

“She wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Perhaps not, but she might scare the soul out of me.”

As Gabe ventured into the corridor, he paused and held his breath. From down the way, he heard the creak of floorboards. As he moved toward the sound, a ghostly figure appeared in the distance.

Gabe shook himself and rubbed his eyes. “Hammond?”

The architect’s silvery hair stood at wild angles, and he was clad in only a white nightshirt. On one forearm, he balanced a tray of food. He had a bottle of wine tucked under his other arm, and a pair of wineglasses clutched in his free hand—the source of the clanking, Gabe presumed. The man was sweaty and breathless.

“What the devil is going on?” Gabe asked.

“Devil, indeed.” Hammond leaned over his tray to whisper. “I finally learned the truth about Burns.”

“Brilliant,” Gabe muttered. “I thought you’d ruled out ghost, witch, and vampiress. What’s left?”

“The woman’s a succubus.”

“What’s a succubus?”

“A female demon.” Hammond’s eyebrows lifted. “One who feeds on sexual pleasure.”

“Well, then. I am exceedingly sorry I asked.”

“Gerard, is that you?” The sultry, smoky female voice came from within a nearby chamber. “I’m waiting.”

“Good God. The enchantress calls.” Hammond backed his way into the bedchamber, tray and wine in his hands. “If I’m dead in the morning, bury my corpse with a stake through the heart.”

Numb with shock, Gabe returned to his own bedchamber.

Penny lifted her shoulders in question. “Well?”

“I have good news and bad news.”

“Let’s have the bad first, please.”

“The bad news is, I’ll never, so long as I live, wipe the past two minutes from my memory.” He scratched the back of his head. “The good news is, tonight we’re in the clear.”