Authors: Jenna Petersen
There was a brightness in her stare, a hardness that reminded Rage that this woman had certainly experienced loss and heartbreak. She might not have been from his world, but perhaps she was correct when she believed she could handle his past. If not, then he supposed she would flee and that would be the end of it. Better for her, perhaps, and at least he would have his memories of their brief time together.
“Very well,” he said. “I was born in Ireland, the son of a woman who was once a maid in London before she was disgraced and sent packing. I only have a few memories of her, she died when I was but a child of four. What I do remember is her sadness… and also the fact that she seemed to love me despite the fact that I was a result of her shame.”
Lucinda reached out and intertwined her fingers with his in a silent gesture of comfort. To his surprise, the action did soothe him and he continued.
“Her father, my grandfather, thought less of me. He was an ugly drunk, mean to a fault. I learned to dodge his fists and sometimes his glass when he had too much spirit in him.”
She flinched. “Even at so young an age?”
“I killed his bonny lass, as he took every opportunity to tell me.” A sour taste filled Rage’s mouth at the thought of his grandfather’s bile-filled words and hard, heavy fists. “Although he didn’t often spare her from his wrath when she lived. I think he was looking for an excuse to kick a dog that was weaker than he was. At any rate, I probably would have ended up dead but then one day a carriage arrived and I was shuttled into it and hustled off to London. The man who took me told me nothing about why or by whom he had been sent. I was taken to a home I did not know and handed over to a maid and the butler in the home of the Duke of Nordcross. They were married and had no children of their own.”
“Were they relatives of your family?” she asked.
He laughed. “The servants? No, not exactly. And I’m fairly certain they had decided to forgo children of their own choice. They certainly did not seem to want me. They were never cruel, though, at least not physically. And there were a few other servants who seemed to take more pity on a child with no place where he belonged. Eventually I surrendered to the fact that I would be living there and that was that.”
She shook her head. “Did you ever hear from your grandfather in Ireland again? Did he know you were taken?”
Rage shrugged, though as a boy he had questioned that, himself. “He may have made the bargain to send me away himself, he may have simply woken from a stupor to find his whipping boy gone. I have no idea. I made no attempt to reach out to him and he never tried to find me as far as I know. Soon, I had other problems, though. You see, for reasons I didn’t understand at the time, I was sent to the schoolroom to be taught alongside the children of the Duke.”
Lucinda’s eyes went wide. “Forgive me if this sounds insensitive, but that is very uncommon. I highly encourage education for the children of my servants, of course, and am happy to provide an allowance to that end, but I have never heard of a child of a maid or butler being educated alongside the child of a Duke.”
He laughed, though the sound was bitter, indeed, and he feared it revealed more about his thoughts on that matter than he wished to show. “Yes, it was not a usual circumstance, which the Duke’s brats reminded me of on a regular basis. And the Duchess despised it. She made certain I suffered for my involuntary insolence whenever she could manage to punish me.”
“But this does explain why you are so well-spoken,” Lucinda said softly, almost more to herself.
“Yes, my only escape was that I truly loved what I learned in those days. And when the Duke’s children were sent out of the home for their advancing education, I was also sent away. Thank God, it was not to Eaton or some other highbrow school, but it was to a very nice school meant for the sons of merchants and the new rich. So my time there was no better. I drank in the knowledge and fought my way out of scrapes every day after the lessons were over. By the time I was fifteen, I’d had enough. I jumped the wall and was off for London, never to return.”
Lucinda gasped and there was true pain and empathy in her stare. “You were little more than a boy.”
He smiled despite himself. “But certainly not the youngest urchin on the street, my lady. I fought there as easily and as often as I fought anywhere else. After about a year, I was in the middle of a terrible scrape with three other lads. After trouncing them soundly, I turned to find a man watching me. I figured he was there to take me to the law… or worse, and was ready to fight him, too. But for once I had stumbled upon a man who was actually interested in helping me.”
“Easton Hathaway,” Lucinda murmured beneath her breath.
Rage stared at her. “How do you know that name?”
She blushed. “I-I did ask a little about you from Jane and Nicholas. He mentioned Hathaway was the man who took you both in over the years, taught you to fight and got you off the street.”
Rage nodded, though he felt a bit exposed knowing she’d had that information about him without his permission.
“Easton and Ruby took me in, despite how much I wanted to fight any kindness. It was Ruby who first gave me the nickname. One day after pulling me off a patron of their bar who I thought was going to stiff them for his drinks, she said, ‘You’re all rage, are you?’ Easton started calling me Rage after that. And it stuck.”
Lucinda dipped her chin and stared at the bed instead of him. Rage flinched although he didn’t blame her. What he had told her was only a scratch of the surface of his past, but it was more than enough to shock a refined lady. To remind her that she never should have lowered herself to speak to, let alone share herself with, a man so far beneath her in every way.
But when she glanced back up at him, there was neither censure in her stare, nor regret. Only the sparkle of tears.
“Oh Ronan,” she whispered. “Your life was so hard from almost the very start. I hate to hear of a child suffering, of pain turning to anger as a means to survive.”
He shook his head. “But that anger has faded over time. Thanks to Easton, God rest his rough, old soul and Ruby. And Nicholas. And… you.”
She blushed from her cheeks to the swell of her breasts. “I cannot imagine how I could have ever helped you. Not in such a short time.”
He shrugged. “I don’t just mean now, in the time we have grown close since you came here. Lucinda, you have lost so much, suffered so much pain… and yet you have never let that embitter you. You’ve never turned to the easy route of anger like I did. For years I have watched you quietly bear more than you ever deserved to carry and you did it with grace. More grace than I ever did, that is for certain.”
She swallowed. “When you said you desired me over the years… I never thought you were watching me so intently.”
“Of course.” He stared at her. “How could I not? You are like light that pierces the darkness. Not looking at you would be an impossible task.”
Lucinda blinked and one of the tears that sparkled in the dark blue sea of her stare slipped free, trailing down her cheek. She sat up and swiped it away as she scooted closer to him. Gently, she cupped his cheeks and then her soft mouth swept over his. Gentle at first, but then with more pressure and purpose. Rage groaned against her lips as his hands moved to cradle her naked hip.
Lucinda shifted without breaking the kiss. She straddled Ronan’s lap, positioning herself over him before she glided in one smooth motion down over his renewed erection. She didn’t know how to say how much his words about her meant, how much his honesty about himself meant, but she knew how to show him. And actions meant more to a man like him than any clumsy words ever could.
She flexed above him, setting a slow, steady rhythm as she rode him while she kissed him and kissed him. She was lost in the sensations of his mouth, of their bodies meeting and merging. Without warning the warm flood of her release washed over her. She tensed, riding faster as her cries of passion were lost against his lips. But they didn’t make Ronan stop. Instead he gripped her hips harder, thrusting up with steady flexes that pushed her farther and farther into release until she feared she would never return to normal again. That somehow she would be lost in his web of pleasure for the rest of her life.
The veins in Ronan’s neck throbbed and he let out a groan of pleasure.
“Lucinda, I must-” he began, then gently set her aside and the evidence that she swept him away as much as he did the same to her became clear as he pumped out his release with a gasping sigh of pleasure.
He glanced at her. “I apologize. I only want to protect you from any… unwanted consequences of this affair.”
She nodded, for she knew rationally that to have a child result from this union would be disastrous. But there was some small part of her, the part that still wanted more children, that took pleasure in the idea of having a son or daughter who she could look at and see this man, just as she looked at her daughters, Margaret and Georgiana and saw a man she had loved and lost far too young.
But the moment she realized what she was thinking, she shook her head.
Ronan was staring at her intently, so intently, in fact that she feared he might be able to read her shocking thoughts, no matter how ridiculous that was. She shifted with discomfort and felt her blush deepen.
“I-I should probably ready myself for supper,” she whispered.
When she dared to glance at him, he was nodding. “Yes, of course. But Lucinda,”
She forced herself to look him in the eye. “Yes?”
“Thank you for this,” he murmured before he leaned forward to kiss her. “For today.”
Then he pushed himself from her bed and dressed with such quickness that it stunned her. She was still stunned as he moved to the inner door of her chamber. As he opened it, she found her voice and called out, “Ronan?”
He stopped there and turned back, bright eyes focused on her face like a hawk on the hunt.
“Thank
you
,” she said with a shaky voice. “For your honesty and for… well, for everything else.”
He nodded once and then he was gone. Lucinda sank back against her pillows and stared up at the canopy above her bed. When she was alone, when she was honest, she could tell herself that making love to Ronan was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She had expected him to be a powerful, passionate lover.
What she hadn’t expected, however, was how deeply connected she felt to him with every touch they exchanged and every moment they shared. In the end, it was a connection she feared, for she knew it couldn’t last.
Chapter Nine
The next few days flew by in a whirlwind for Lucinda. During the day, Ronan was busy with his duties as Nicholas’s estate manager. She rarely saw him, though when she did, he always made a point to come to her side with a greeting, a smile and even a knee-melting kiss, if he could manage to give her one without being seen by those who came and went at Nicholas and Jane’s country estate.
But at night,
that
was when she greedily wished for more time. Ronan had begun to join her in her chamber after everyone else in the house had retired. They made love and afterward they lay together and talked in the firelight about their lives, about her children, even about the mundane activities of the day.
“Lucinda?”
She shook away her thoughts with a smile and turned her attention to Jane. The two women were sharing a mid-morning cup of tea, as had become their custom.
“Yes?”
Jane laughed. “I swear, this time in the country has made you the worst at distraction. I was asking for the cream.”
Lucinda blinked and then handed over the little container with a laugh. “Well, you told me to be utterly relaxed during my visit here. You never realized what a monster that would create.”
Jane took her hand gently and squeezed. “Preoccupied or not, I am very pleased to see you at such peace. Truly, it is a pleasure.”
“Jane, I wanted you to know how dear a friend you have become to me since my arrival,” Lucinda said, covering Jane’s hand with her own. “I have always liked you, of course, but now… well, I am very happy to call you my sister.”
Jane’s eyes sparkled with tears and she smiled. “Thank you, Lucinda. I know seeing me with Nicholas was not always easy.”
Lucinda swiped at her own tears. “Was I so obvious? I hope you know it was only because he and Anthony were twins, it had nothing to do with you.”
Jane nodded. “I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been to see Nicholas, with a face so like the man you loved, falling in love with another woman. I confess, there were times I feared you might not be able to overcome that hurtle, and that we might never be able to be as close as I desired. But I’m glad that time has eased your discomfort.”
Lucinda nodded, but there was a tiny twinge in her chest, one that said she wasn’t being truly honest. Yes, time had something to do with her healing, but there was more to it than that.
And in that moment, the “more to it” entered the room behind Nicholas. Ronan smiled at her while her stomach did flips and her hand shook until she set her cup down.
Jane smiled as she got to her feet and greeted Nicholas with a kiss on the cheek.
“What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to be out doing a tour of the tenant repairs all day!”
Nicholas slipped an arm around her waist without hesitation or awkwardness. “The repairs are coming along quite well and I trust the crew that has been hired to finish up without any interference from me. So we returned home.”
Lucinda watched as Nicholas settled his hand in the small of his wife’s back and leaned down to briefly kiss her. She turned her face as a surge of the jealousy Jane thought she’d overcome washed over her, but she found herself looking at Ronan instead. That actually made the darker emotion even worse. She would love to stand up, walk into his arms and welcome him home. But she couldn’t. Their relationship could see no light, could have no public airing. This was an affair… and when she returned to London, it would be over.