If He's Sinful (29 page)

Penelope did not return to her full senses until Ashton had finished cleaning them both off and pulled her back into his arms. Then the heat of a blush spread from her cheeks all the way down to her toes. He chuckled and kissed her hot cheek, annoying her. He had no respect for her modesty, she thought. What he had done had driven her mad with pleasure, but now that the pleasure had faded, she could hardly look at him. One glance at his smiling mouth had her recalling where that mouth had just been, causing an embarrassing ache there as if her shameless body was crying out
do it again
.

Turning so that she could press her cheek to his chest and listen to his heartbeat, she idly wondered what he would do if she so boldly ignored any sense of modesty he might have. Then she recalled the sight of him standing naked by the bed and nearly cursed. Men did not have much modesty at all. But he might just go as mad as she had if she kissed him so intimately. It was an intriguing idea that soon had her kissing her way down his chest to his hard stomach. When she kissed the lightly haired spot just below his belly hole, his erection bumped against her chin and he groaned. She smiled against his hot skin. If he groaned at that light inadvertent touch, he just might yell as loud as she had with what she intended to do next.

“Ashton? That, er, kiss you gave me? Is that some strange foreign trick?” she asked.

“Not that I know of,” he replied, not surprised that his voice was so hoarse and unsteady he nearly squeaked, for her mouth was so very close to where he ached for her kisses he thought he might go mad if she did not give him at least one little kiss. Mayhap even a lick or two, he mused, and nearly groaned again.

“Then it would not break any rules or traditions if a woman returned such an intimate kiss?”

“Ah, no.” The way she lightly ran her nails up and down his thighs had him shaking like an untried boy. “In truth, a man would be most heartily grateful, I should think.”

“Oh, good.” She slowly ran her tongue along the length of him and felt him shudder.

“Oh God.”

It was the last coherent thing Ashton said for a very long time.

Chapter Sixteen

“Now here is a sight I never thought I would see.”

Ashton’s first clear thought was one of astonishment that Penelope, whom he had thought was fast asleep, could go tense so quickly. It seemed as if every inch of her delectable little body had gone as stiff as an overly starched cravat. He was tempted to see if her hair was standing on end. He smiled as he kissed the back of her neck.

Then it penetrated his sleep-dulled mind that someone had spoken, that someone was seeing him and Penelope in bed together. Naked. Wrapped in each other’s arms. The room heavily scented with the lovemaking they had indulged in for long hours during the night. That someone had the voice of a mature female and an accent that bespoke education and good breeding. His heart sank as he realized that all the troubles and complications he had been wrestling with had just increased—tenfold.

“Best hold firm to that sheet, Ashton,” Penelope murmured. “Could you give us a moment of privacy, Auntie?”

“No.”

“Have it your way.”

“I usually do.”

It was not easy, but Penelope managed to sit up with the sheet held firmly against her. It helped that Ashton also sat up, holding firm to that part of the sheet covering the bottom half of his body. For a moment she was distracted by the sight of his smooth, hard chest, but her aunt’s loud
ahem
pulled her free of the thought of kissing him there. Penelope sighed for she did not really want to talk to anyone; she wanted to make Ashton writhe and yell like she had last night. She frowned at her aunt, who stood in the doorway with her arms crossed beneath her much-admired bosom.

Lady Olympia Wherlocke was a very impressive woman. A little taller than most women, and some men, with raven black hair and sky blue eyes, she drew many admiring glances. She was strong, confident, and only three years older than Penelope. Penelope was always amazed by how imposing her young aunt could be. Olympia was even more imposing than usual at the moment, backed as she was by all the boys and their tutor, who had his hand placed firmly over young Juno’s eyes.

“’Tis a little early to come calling, Auntie,” Penelope said, grimacing inwardly when Olympia simply quirked one perfectly arched brow. “I was unaware that you had planned a trip to the city.”

“I had not planned one but I was suddenly compelled to come. Drawn here, you might say. Called to your side.”

“Not another one,” muttered Ashton.

After giving Ashton a brief, cold stare, Olympia returned her attention to Penelope. “It was as I was racing to your side that a new element was added to the mix of feelings and portents pulling me onward. I now believe I know what that new element was.” She gave Ashton another hard glare. “I hope you can explain everything to my satisfaction.”

“More or less,” replied Penelope, “but do you think we could do all this explaining in the parlor in a little while? A few moments of privacy would be greatly appreciated. Ah, nay, actually, let us gather in the breakfast room. I am feeling a bit peckish.”

“I cannot imagine why.”

Ignoring her aunt’s sarcasm, Penelope said, “Please, Auntie. I will tell all over breakfast. There is simply too much to explain to do it here and now.”
And I would much rather explain it all with my clothes on
, she thought crossly.

“Fair enough, but I suggest you be quick about joining me there.”

There was a certain tone to Olympia’s voice that made Penelope uneasy. “Am I to prepare for more surprises?”

“Possibly. I have the very distinct feeling that I am not the only member of the family feeling compelled to rush to your aid.”

“Damn.”

“In truth, I believe your uncle Argus will be arriving within the hour.” Olympia shooed everyone out of the room as she turned to leave and, as soon as the doorway was clear, shut it firmly behind her.

For a moment Penelope stared at the door and then groaned. She quickly got out of bed and yanked on her shift before turning to face Ashton. He still sat in the bed holding the sheet over his groin and looking an endearing mix of confused, embarrassed, and alarmed. If her uncle Argus really was on his way to the Wherlocke Warren, there might be a good reason for that last one. Uncle Argus was a rogue, but he expected the women of his family to be sweet, innocent, and impervious to seduction. He had been known to get very angry with any man who tried to seduce one of the Wherlocke or Vaughn women. While some of those men had deserved all they got, she did think her uncle was very hypocritical in his attitudes.

“We best hurry,” she said. “Auntie is not a patient woman. If she thinks we are taking too long to join her, she could come back here.”

“But if we were taking a long time to appear, it could easily mean that we decided to—”

“Exactly.” Penelope cursed the heat in her cheeks for she hated to blush. “That thought would not deter Auntie.”

“So she really is your aunt?” Ashton asked as he got out of bed and started to dress. “She cannot be much older than you.”

“She is only three years older than I. She was the youngest of eight children. My mother was the eldest. Between them are six brothers. Uncle Argus is the third-born son.”

“Are you intending to tell her everything?” He moved to help her do up her gown.

“One must be completely truthful when dealing with Aunt Olympia.”

“And this Uncle Argus if he arrives?”

“Aye, him, too.” She decided it was not a good time to tell him that her uncle could simply make Ashton tell him everything he wanted to know with the power of his eyes and his voice. “And if Olympia feels he will arrive, then he will. I am sorry,” she said as she hastily tied her hair back with a blue ribbon to match her gown. “I have complicated your life beyond measure.”

Ashton took her into his arms and held her close. “You have, but so have I. More so than you have, actually. So has fate. So has my family.” He leaned back a little and briefly kissed her. “Who knows? Mayhap your aunt and uncle can help us to untangle this mess, most of which really is of my own making. The moment I met you, I should have turned away from Clarissa and taken a good hard look at things. The answers were there. I have seen that since I was trapped into this engagement. I had just decided to take the quickest route out of my difficulties by marrying money.”

She smiled sadly and stroked his cheek. “And if you had taken a good look, all you would have seen was what was already there—all those responsibilities a man like you cannot ignore. There is also the small matter of all those markers Charles holds.” Penelope took him by the hand. “Come. Olympia is neither a prude nor a complete tartar. She will frown and scold but she will not condemn.”

“Not
you
leastwise,” he muttered as he followed her out of the room.

Ashton’s concern proved to be warranted, Penelope mused as she swallowed the last bite of a hearty breakfast. The moment the children left, even the older ones ordered out by Olympia, her aunt fixed a severely condemning scowl on Ashton. This was not going to be a comfortable confrontation, Penelope decided. She was a little astonished that Ashton showed no real lack of appetite beneath her aunt’s gimlet stares.

“I assume the wedding will be soon,” said Olympia.

“Nay,” Penelope replied, firmly burying the hurt that knowledge always caused her. “There is to be no wedding.”

“You are the daughter of a marquis, the niece of an earl, the—”

“No need to list all of my impressive connections, Auntie. Ashton is fully aware of them. He and his friends have been doing a lot of poking about. I will explain the why of that in a little while,” she hastily added when she saw her aunt’s eyes narrow at the mere thought of someone investigating the family.

“Then there will be a wedding.”

“Nay. Ashton is already spoken for.” She grimaced when her aunt looked at Ashton in a decidedly murderous way. “I knew that from the very beginning.”

“I see.” Olympia took a sip of her tea before saying, “No, I do
not
see. Not you. You are not like so many of our other relations. You are not heedless, not reckless, and certainly not given to tossing away all good sense for the sake of passion. You better than all of us know the price paid for such things. You care for a houseful of the consequences.”

“The fault is mine,” said Ashton. “I erred in two ways. The first was that I should have left Penelope alone. The second was that when that proved impossible, I should have backed away from Clarissa, avoided that fatal meeting with her brother that ended up with me engaged to the woman.”

“Ashton.” Penelope patted his hand. “Charles has tied you neatly in a knot and you know it. Auntie, before we wade into that tangle, allow me to tell you how Ashton and I met,” said Penelope, and after taking a deep breath to steady herself, she told Olympia the tale of her kidnapping and all the other troubles that had plagued her since that night.

“You should have written to us, called upon us for help. That is what a family is for.”

“I intended to do just that as soon as I could figure out what was happening. And if it was anything more than coincidence. I know how uncomfortable this city can be for many of you. I did not wish to pull all of you to London simply because I was having a run of bad luck.”

“Bad luck? You call what has happened to you simply bad luck?” Olympia shook her head. “Someone wants you dead, Pen, and I think you know who that is as well as I do.”

“Aye, I do, but is it Clarissa, is it Charles, or is it both of them? I am certain Charles was behind my kidnapping but the madam’s hired scum mentioned a woman, too. No one actually said the names of the people who had paid to have me put there, however. Clarissa did hint at it the other day but that is only my word against hers. We also think Mrs. Cratchitt was responsible for some of the things that happened to me because she felt I knew things that could get her hanged.”

“Other than the fact that she kidnaps young women and forces them to become whores?”

“I said something to the men who carried me there, something about someone dying in that bed. If they told her what I said, and we now know she did kill a lot of people, she would not have wanted me telling anyone about it, would she? You see our problem, do you not? What was done by her? What was done by Charles or Clarissa? I think each has tried to kill me but we have no proof of that. If we are going to accuse a baron of trying to kill me, we need proof. Charles may be a somewhat new baron, the honor scoffed at by much of society, but he is still of the gentry. It is very hard to just point a finger and accuse one of the gentry. One needs indisputable fact. Ashton, his friends, my brothers, and Darius are all working hard to find out the truth.”

“The truth is that Charles does not wish you to reach your majority or marry. He will lose everything if that happens. But we can argue over that later. Aside from this fool getting himself caught in Clarissa’s web, why can you not get married?”

Penelope sighed, realizing that her aunt would not be diverted for long with talk of murder and mystery. She looked at Ashton and cocked one brow, silently asking him if he wanted to tell her aunt Olympia everything. He was doing what he had to do to save his family from utter ruin and he might not wish to share those troubles with her scowling aunt, a woman he did not know. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief when he patted her hand and looked straight at Olympia.