His Wicked Seduction novel Chapter 41

The afternoon seemed to stretch for hours. Linley's back ached from hiding in the mews outside Jackson's Salon. The dark suit he wore was borrowed and slightly too big, as were the waistcoat and breeches. The entire ensemble was nearly threadbare and didn't keep out the chill of the winter wind. With each gust, he hastily gripped the edges of his white-powdered wig on his head, keeping it secure.

He prayed that the man he was sent to watch would appear soon. His fingers were turning blue and his blood was like ice in his veins. His quarry, the Earl of Lonsdale, a skilled boxer, could spend hours in the salon. There was no telling when Linley would get a chance to escape the cold and seek shelter inside. He rubbed his hands together, attempting to generate warmth. It didn't help.

A sudden wave of exhaustion swept through him. He didn't want to be here. His master had made him come here. Sir Hugo Waverly. A true bastard if there ever was one. Tom tried not to think about it but failed.

He was the man who'd taken advantage of him... and stolen something precious from him. Stolen everything, really. Including his freedom.

The month following his master's assault, Waverly's wife had dismissed him without references. That alone had threatened his future and now he had someone who depended on him. But Hugo could always make it worse. It had been easy for his master to take advantage of his desperation and force him into this job. This new identity. This new life of shadows and subterfuge.

My poor baby girl. He thought with aching sorrow of Katherine, the child he cared for. His Kate was the most important thing in Tom's life. Waverly had threatened to take her away, and Lord only knew what he would do with her...

Unless he gained the confidence of the Earl of Lonsdale and infiltrated his household. Tom sensed something darker and more horrifying was afoot but he was helpless to stop whatever his master had planned. His orders were simple, though far from easy-get hired by Lonsdale to replace the valet who'd recently left his employ and regularly report back to Waverly.

Tom didn't want to lie to anyone, and certainly not the earl. After a week of discreet surveillance, he'd learned enough about Lonsdale not to want to betray him. He was a rake but not a cad. He was a man who would offer a hand in aid of those who needed it. Tom had seen him more than once toss several coins to paupers as he passed and never had a harsh word for others, even when men deep in their cups tried to start arguments. But to save little Kate, Tom would have to damn himself and do wrong by one good man for the sake of a bad one.

The bizarre sight of Audrey and Linus chasing a stray goat dressed in a lady's spencer was one Lucien could not draw his eyes away from. The garment, once a lovely shade of baby blue, was now torn in several places and beginning to fray at the edges.

Lucien watched from the window as Audrey screamed bloody murder. She dove at the goat and fell to the frozen ground as it bolted away. Linus had taken up a garden hoe and was charging at the animal but a shout halted his blow. Horatia arrived, hastily dressed for the cold, and urged Linus to back away from the angry goat.

Lucien chuckled at the bleating creature whose wild eyes promised retribution on anyone who dared accost it further.

Horatia bent over and held out a carrot, coaxing the stubborn thing to eye her less viciously. It took a few cautious steps closer, then nibbled the carrot. When Horatia set the vegetable down the goat did not pay any attention to her as she casually extracted the spencer from it. She then returned the ruined garment to a distraught Audrey.

Lucien held his breath from his vantage point, enjoying the sight. Horatia's hair was a bit windblown and her cheeks flushed with the thrill of the chase. Horatia's womanly body with ample curves was made for passionate lovemaking and wicked fantasies. She was, in truth, the woman he'd always wanted, always needed. Even in light of his mother's revelations, it could never happen.

She was Cedric's sister, and the League had rules.

Lucien couldn't trust himself with her. He wanted to make love to her by candlelight, to better see the shadows playing across the curves of her body. He enjoyed restraining a woman and rousing her to peaks of pleasure. Never to hurt, no. But he loved to have power over a woman, and more importantly, her trust. He could learn every sensitive place and dark desire she harbored so he might fulfill it. He never once left a woman unsatisfied after a night tied to his bed, and he refused to enjoy himself until his lover had first been fully sated.

Now, this finely honed talent would go to waste. The one woman he longed for was the one woman he could never have. He wanted to be with her in ways he'd never been with other women, to show her a side of himself he'd always held back from others. Perhaps Horatia's allure was derived from her unattainability. Forbidden fruit. He could only pray she was safe from him, so long as he exercised that damned self-control that had frayed at the edges lately.

Lucien tore himself away from the window as he heard Audrey's shrill voice echoing in the main hall.

"I swear, Linus, you are the worst sort of man! How could you put my best spencer on a goat?"

"I thought the little fellow looked chilly."

"It already has a coat. What more does it need?"

"'Tis the season of giving. You should be thankful I exercised my goodwill to ensure the goat's warmth."

"The season of giving? I'll give you something!"

There was a thump and a responding shout of pain.

"Audrey's provocation doesn't help matters," Horatia added. "They played too often together as children to really adjust to their more mature roles in life. It's one of the reasons I never worry about my lack of diligence as their chaperone." Horatia confessed this with a small little smile.

Lucien's chest tightened as a wave of guilt struck him. An awkward silence settled between the pair. Horatia's warm smile wavered and then wilted as the silence lengthened.

"Pardon me," Lucien said gruffly and turned to leave. He couldn't bear to be near her anymore. Caught between deserved guilt and wicked desire, he was damned if he claimed her and damned if he didn't.

Lucien called for the footman, Gordon, to send a message to the stables that he wanted his horse then went in search of his greatcoat and riding gloves. A ride would do him good. Cold air and solitude would cool his ardor and give him time to think. Thankfully, Horatia did not follow him.

A groom brought Lucien's stallion to the hall steps. The beast twitched its tale. Lucien nodded to Gordon and then mounted up. He trotted from the main yard and crossed the snowy meadow to the east of the hall. His horse plodded along on the icy snow, carefully treading until the snow became thicker. Then Lucien coaxed it into picking up the pace. Then wind whipped through his coat as he cantered through the meadow.

Gray clouds formed a thick winter wall, leaving the land ahead of him a shadowy world between intermittent snowfalls. There was something beautiful about the desolation of Kent in winter, especially this year. More often than not, snow was rare, but this year the grounds were covered with it. The decay of life lay inches below the snow, unobserved. That world held secrets, like the moment before a swimmer breaks the surface for breath, the seeds in the ground waited to breathe, to reveal themselves. Lucien felt much the same, waiting to breathe, waiting to break free.

He remembered the multitude of kisses he'd stolen from Horatia, both in anger and desire. Now, without anger to fuel his emotional blindness, he could see the truth. It wasn't merely desire, nor lust for forbidden fruit, it was something more. Something secret lay hidden beneath the flames of his passion.

I shouldn't, but... He watched his breath blossom in a pale cloud as he examined his confusing thoughts about his feelings for Horatia.

Lucien's horse had slowed to a complete stop now, something the beast had never done before without encouragement.

How odd.

He dug his heels into the horse's side to give it a kick of encouragement. The horse whipped its head around violently. Lucien kicked again, and this time the horse bucked and whinnied. Lucien clung to the reins as he sought to keep himself in the saddle. The horse reacted even more fiercely and this time Lucien was unprepared. He was flung from the horse, his arms tangled in the reins as he landed with a crunch on the icy ground. Pain exploded through his head and body. His vision spun in slow circles, then started to fade...