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All Night With A Rogue Page 15
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The question managed to startle her. She automatically brought her palm to her stomach and worried. “I-I am not—at least, I do not believe I am.”
“Be certain,” he said abruptly. “And let me be clear. It will not bode well for either you or your family if you try to foist Gomfrey’s bastard on me.”
His threat delivered, Sin turned on his heel and headed for the outer hall.
Juliana slapped a shaking hand over her mouth at the time the crimson drapery parted and Lord Hugh, the one Sin affectionately called Dare, Lord Rainecourt, and the Duke of Huntsley walked into the anteroom. She backed away from the threshold and nonchalantly curled her hand under her chin as she studied a poor rendering of the port in Hastings.
One by one, she felt each of the noblemen’s gazes as they lingered thoughtfully on her profile before they followed Sin into the night. Juliana was not fooling anyone. She spun around and leaned against the wall. There was a good chance everyone in the private box had overheard the heated exchange between her and Sin.
Lord Sainthill cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence as he moved toward the open door. “Lady Juliana,” he murmured respectfully. He paused at the threshold. “During the confusion, Sinclair might have been remiss in his manners, so if I may speak in his stead and offer the following. If you need anything from him or the Lords of Vice, please do not hesitate to send a message to the club. I will make certain Sin receives it.”
He disappeared and his footfalls could be heard as he made his way down the hallway.
Juliana’s vision blurred at Lord Sainthill’s unexpected kindness. It was also her undoing. One sob escaped from her throat and then another. She covered her mouth and sagged lower until she was practically sitting on the floor.
“What the devil are you doing?”
She dropped her hand onto her lap at the sharp lash of Lord Gomfrey’s question. “N-nothing.”
He marched over and hauled her onto her feet. The blood was gone from his face. His lower lip was swollen and split from Sin’s fist, and his cheeks were mottled with colorful bruises. The earl’s disposition was as rotten as his moral principles, and he was looking for a fight that he could win. “If I wanted a sniveling girl at my side, I could have picked one off the street for a shilling. You, on the other hand, cost me a great deal more.”
Lord Gomfrey took out his handkerchief and threw it at her. “Clean up your face. Fix your hair. You have an audience awaiting your return, and you will not disappoint them.”
Juliana dabbed at her eyes. She turned away from the earl and delicately blew her nose before she slipped the soiled handkerchief into her reticule. She opened her clenched fist and stared somberly at the feather Sin had discarded. Impulsively she shook it into her reticule and gave the strings of her reticule a vicious tug.
Upon straightening, she noticed the narrow rectangular mirror on the opposite wall. It gave her an excuse to distance herself from Lord Gomfrey while she smoothed her hair.
She frowned at her reflection. The woman staring back at her looked like she had been thoroughly kissed by her lover. Her lips were red and slightly puffy from Sin’s demanding lips. During their brief passionate struggle, he had loosened some of the pins in her hair. Juliana dutifully gathered up her errant blond strands and tucked them into place.
“Did you tell Sinclair anything about our bargain?”
Juliana glared at his reflection as he stood behind her. “No. What would have been the point? I think I have endured enough humiliation for one evening.”
“Not quite,” he said, tracing the curve of her neck down to her bare shoulder. “Why did you let him kiss you?”
“I did not,” she said tightly.
Lord Gomfrey shoved her hard against the wall. Her right cheek connected with the gilt frame of the mirror so swiftly Juliana did not have a chance to cry out. He seized the back of her neck and jerked her backward. The mirror plummeted to the floor, shattering at their feet.
“Never lie to me again, Lady Juliana.” The earl smoothed the rigid muscles in her neck with his hand. “You will not enjoy the consequences.”
From the corner of her eye, Juliana noticed Lord Chillingsworth standing in the anteroom, one section of the drapery still clenched in his fist. How much had he seen? It really did not matter. While Lord Sainthill had offered her kindness, his friend Lord Chillingsworth was more likely to applaud Lord Gomfrey’s abuse.
Juliana met Lord Chillingsworth’s insolent smile with a level stare.
“Forgive me for interrupting,” he said politely. “I was just leaving. It was impressed upon me that I should return to my seat in, let us just say, a conventional manner.”
“Come, my lady,” Lord Gomfrey said, taking her by the elbow. “We should also return to our seats.”
He nodded to the nobleman. “Chillingsworth, give Sinclair my compliments on his refined tastes.” Lord Gomfrey leered at Juliana as he escorted her through the parted curtain. “Tell him that I look forward to savoring every carnal delight imaginable and I have him to thank for my good fortune.”
“Oh, I will,” Lord Chillingsworth softly replied.
Juliana glanced back at him. He let the curtain fall back into place and left her to her fate.
Chapter Sixteen
HOURS LATER, LORD Gomfrey contemplated his new acquisition as his coachman drove them back to his town house. That was how Juliana was beginning to view herself. Somehow she had become a pawn, one to be used and discarded. First her mother had thought to barter Juliana and her sisters into marriage for the sake of the family, then Sin had sought her out and seduced her at the whim of his spiteful half sister, and now Juliana was the prize for another selfish gentleman.
She stared blankly through the small window and glimpsed the future. It appeared as bleak and shadowed as the London streets.
“It was a fine evening,” Lord Gomfrey gloated. He had positioned himself on the opposite bench, his long legs stretched out so that his dirty shoes bumped against her left hip.
“You did not seem pleased when Lord Sinclair bloodied your nose with his fist.”
Unconsciously Lord Gomfrey gingerly touched his nose as he frowned at her. “It might not bode well for you if you keep mentioning Sinclair. If you are not worried about your lovely neck, think of your mother and sisters.”
As much as Juliana loathed admitting it, the earl was correct. It was foolish of her to provoke him. “I do not mean to offend, my lord. I was stating a simple fact. I cannot fathom why Lord Sinclair’s attack would please you.”
Her quiet apology mollified him. She saw the white of his teeth flash at her in the dim interior of the coach. He even leaned forward and patted her knee.
“Sinclair may have been doing Lady Gredell’s bidding. Nevertheless, the man was enjoying himself tremendously. He was not quite finished with you, and it galled him that I stole you away.” The earl practically hummed with delight. “The insidious blow I struck against him was worth a little spilt blood.”
Juliana leaned back and allowed the darkness to swallow her. Any hope that the earl might have returned her to her family this evening was dashed when she had overheard him order the coachman to return to Lord Gomfrey’s town house.
He had quietly amended the terms of the bargain he had brokered with the marchioness, and the gentleman did not seem repentant about it.
Still furious with Sin, the earl planned to take his revenge by bedding Juliana. The thought of taking something away from the marquess seemed to give Lord Gomfrey immense satisfaction.
She allowed her eyelids to droop as she studied the passing street activity through a heavy veil of thick eyelashes. Sin had been the only man who had touched her intimately. She had initially feared the responses he had seemed to effortlessly evoke from her body. Later, she had reveled in their love play.
Were all lovers the same?
Would Lord Gomfrey be able to touch her and make her burn as Sin had? Would the earl make her forget the salty taste of Sin’s fles
h as she flicked her tongue over his nipple, the scent of his arousal, and the low growl of pleasure that rumbled in his throat when his seed burst from his manhood? Her chest still ached when she thought of Sin’s betrayal, of the hateful words they had said to each other.
Had anything they had shared meant anything to Sin, or was it all a game to him?
Juliana would have sold her soul to learn the truth.
“You fell asleep.” Lord Gomfrey’s hand on her arm was possessive and yet oddly tender. “We are home, my lady.”
As she descended from the coach, he covered her shoulders with her cloak and led her to the front door.
“It does not trouble you?” She bit her lower lip, instantly regretting the question.
“Does what trouble me?” The earl opened the door and nudged her into the front hall. “You sound half-asleep and make little sense. Are you still dreaming, my dear?”
“No. Not anymore.”
She stood shivering in the darkness as she listened to Lord Gomfrey close the door. He moved past her, she assumed to light a candle or a lamp.
“If you have a question, ask it.”
There was a scratching sound, and the light from a candle flared to life.
Her eyes focused on the flicking flame. “It does not bother you that Sin had me first?”
Lord Gomfrey brought his fist to his mouth and chuckled. He picked up the silver candlestick and walked toward her. The earl was still smiling when he bathed her in candlelight. “Your naïveté is rather charming, Lady Juliana. Is it feigned or did you actually manage to hold on to your innocence in spite of all the wicked things Sinclair did to your delectable body?”
The earl took her by the arm and pressed a kiss into her temple. “To answer your question, no, it does not bother me that Sinclair bedded you first. The fact that the rogue still wants you, and cannot have you, will make each fucking more pleasurable.”
“You are wrong. Sin does not want me.”
The earl stared at her in amazement. “Utterly charming. I look forward to our summer together, Lady Juliana.”
He led her to the staircase.
“Who knows, once you have settled your mother’s debt, you might beg to remain in my bed.”
Never, she thought, but did not speak the word aloud.
“I usually tire of my lovers after a few weeks,” he remarked casually, confident in his prowess and power over his lovers. “However, if you please me, I might be tempted to keep you.”
Alexius slammed the empty bottle of brandy down on the card table. “I’m finished,” he said, slurring his words as he staggered to his feet.
After he and his friends had left the theater, they had crammed themselves into a coach and headed for Nox. He had announced that they were celebrating his liberation from both his sister and the tantalizing wiles of Lady Juliana.
His friends had applauded him for his cavalier dismissal of the lady who had managed to tangle his cock and heart into dense complicated knots, and cheerfully poured a bottle of the club’s finest brandy down his throat before they settled earnestly into gambling away a small fortune.
Frost stared blurrily at Alexius. “Nonsense. That was only our fifth bottle.”
“When did you develop such a weak stomach?” Vane teased. With a plump brown-haired wench on his lap, he was handling his cards and brandy better than his companions.
“Not the brandy.” Alexius sneered at the insult. “I’m done with this game. I have no head for cards this evening.”
“I wish you would stay,” Hunter grumbled. “I would have won your town house and favorite horse by morning.”
Reign leaned back to swipe a bottle of brandy from a nearby table. He used his teeth to remove the cork. “I thought you were going to let me win Sin’s horse.” His friends laughed as Reign refilled several of the empty glasses on the table.
Alexius braced both palms on the table to steady himself. “And you call yourselves my friends. All the more reason to quit.”
“Coward,” Frost called out as Alexius staggered away from the table.
He responded with a rude gesture that everyone who noticed thought was uproariously humorous.
In spite of the late hour, Nox was crowded. Alexius maneuvered the room by bumping from one individual to the next. It was the only reason why he was still standing. Dare and Saint caught him by both arms before he reached the doorway.
“Where are you going, Sin?” Dare shouted into Alexius’s face.
“I am looking for more brandy.” If he kept drinking, he would eventually drown out Juliana’s voice in his head.
Saint laughed while he shoved Alexius into Dare’s arms. “I will find you another bottle. Try to keep him from throwing himself down the stairs.”
“Do you want to go upstairs?” Dare asked.
Alexius shook his head. “Chair,” he said succinctly.
“Christ, you are heavy.”
With Dare’s help, Alexius landed on a table and flowed into a chair that gave him a view of the activity in the room. “Just make sure I get home. If I’m going to die, I want to die in my own damn bed.”
Dare stared down at him. “If you say so. Do you want me to stay?”
Alexius scrubbed his face, trying to ignore the pity he saw on his friend’s face. Dare was intimately acquainted with losing the lady whom he loved.
Love? Alexius frowned at the notion. He was not in love with Juliana. He was just mourning the loss of her warm, willing body. Her laughter. The way she bit into his shoulder when she shuddered in his arms.
Saint returned with a bottle and a glass.
Alexius grimaced as he grabbed the bottle. “No. Go away.”
Saint glared at Dare. “What did you say to him?”
“Nothing. He is drunk and surly.” Dare watched as Alexius missed the glass and poured the brandy onto the table. “Here. If I may.” Dare filled the glass and slammed the bottle down. “He will pass out before he finishes that bottle.”
“I disagree. A hundred pounds says he will finish it and drink another before he goes under,” Saint countered.
“Agreed.”
The two men shook on the wager and left Alexius to his brandy.
He was content to be left alone. No one was paying attention to him. As he drank his brandy, he listened to the bawdy song several men were singing across the room. It mingled with the laughter of the whores flirting with the patrons, the angry shouts from the sore losers, and the hoots of glee from the winners.
It was halfway through the second bottle Dare had not anticipated that Alexius abandoned the bottle and chair so he could relieve himself out back in the yard. He could not recall the journey outside, but his body was happy. The cool air was pleasant, too. It revived him enough that he was willing to go back to the table and finish his bottle.
It took him several minutes to shut the door properly, and when he turned around one of Madam V’s girls was standing between him and his brandy.
“G’evening, Lord Sin.”
Alexius squinted at her. He had seen her with Frost and several of Nox’s patrons. “I know you.” At the moment her name escaped him.
“Aye. They call me Rose.”
She slowly approached him, uncertain of her welcome. He did not brush her hand away when she laid it on his chest or rebuke her when she wrapped her arm around his back. “Ye look like ye could use some company. A little unsteady on yer feet this night.”
“Dizzy,” Alexius mumbled, burying his nose into her red hair. The scent was not unpleasant. She was a pretty wench, with long limbs, pale skin, and large deep blue eyes. If he believed Frost’s recommendation, she was one of Madam V’s handpicked favorites and quite inventive in bed.
Together Rose and Alexius took a step forward. It was a disaster. He laughed as his weight caused them both to whirl and collapse against the wall. He used his back to keep himself upright as she propped him up with her palms on his chest.
“Yer a big beast,” she cooed apprecia
tively. “Why haven’t I had ye? Do ye find me pretty?”
“As a rose,” he said, pleased that he could jest in his current condition. Alexius placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer.
There was nothing about Rose that reminded him of Juliana.
Alexius thought that was Rose’s best quality as he roughly covered her mouth. With his head swimming in brandy, he squeezed her breasts and lowered his head to nip the exposed flesh.
Rose did not seem to mind his drunken fumbling. She wriggled against him and managed to undo several buttons on his trousers. Alexius hissed as her fingernails scraped the underside of his testicles.
“Better than an elixir.” He was breathing heavily as he kissed her neck.
Alexius was too drunk to feel much of anything. Blindly he reached for Rose and turned her around. He could not think of a single reason why he should not bury his cock in this willing female.
What he had with Juliana had ended. She had chosen Gomfrey. The faithless bitch was probably in the earl’s bed, begging and squirming under him.
Alexius abruptly pushed Rose down on all fours; he fell on top of her and fumbled with her skirts. He would not be a gentle or tender lover. All he wanted to do was forget. . . .
Chapter Seventeen
“WAKE UP, MY darling Alexius!”
With his face buried into a pillow and the bottle and a half of brandy he drank last evening still churning in his gut, Alexius moaned. So this was what death felt like. Utter hell. He could not decide which hurt worse, his head or his stomach.
Someone grabbed him by the arm and shook him. Alexius could actually hear the brandy in his stomach slosh from side to side. To his sensitive ears, it sounded like he had swallowed the bloody ocean.
“Go away!”
Where the devil was he? It smelled and felt like his bed, but he had no recollection of returning to his town house, let alone crawling into his bed.
“Oh, you were always a beast in the morning!”
The word “beast” triggered a faint memory, but it escaped him. Disorientated and still half-drunk, Alexius tried to identify the voice of the annoying wench in his bed. His last tangible memory was of returning to the club with his friends. The rest of the evening was a torrential river of brandy. He must have been a man possessed to have summoned the lust of Eros neither his body nor head could recall.