Authors: Deborah Simmons
She would be ostracized as a fallen woman, a soiled dove, a foolish spinster who had moved beyond the pale. Prudence realized that such a sentence would not upset her as much as it would Phoebe. Unless her sister found a husband in London, she would be returning to Cornwall, and it would be unfair to expect her to share Prudence’s isolation.
What a coil! Prudence’s practical side told her that she should leave Wolfinger as soon as possible, but the rest of her simply could not be brought into agreement. In truth, she did not think herself capable of parting from Sebastian unless he sent her away. She felt too alive, too wonderfully vital, to go back to her previous existence.
The cottage that had once been her world seemed too confining, the imagination to which she had retreated a
paltry shadow of the passion she had come to embrace. Although she knew it was cowardly, Prudence decided to throw her future into Sebastian’s hands for the time being. Let things fall as they might; she would worry about the consequences later.
Prudence was still staring out the window, lost in her bleak musings, when the door finally opened. She felt like running to Sebastian and throwing her arms around him in celebration of his safety, but she caught herself in time. Instead of the dark man of her dreams, Mrs. Worth stepped in—alone. Steeling herself for the woman’s disapproval, Prudence faced the housekeeper, only to be greeted with the clucking concern of a mother hen.
“You poor girl! Locked away up here like the madwoman herself! Strange doings,” she muttered, shaking her head. “But the abbey is a strange place, as I’ve said often enough. Come on now, and I will draw you a bath, poor thing.”
Prudence hesitated, glancing down at the knotted linens that trailed out the window, but Mrs. Worth waved a hand dismissively. “The earl said as he would tend to that,” she assured Prudence. Remembering the dark stains that marked her lost innocence, Prudence was relieved to know that no one else would set eyes upon them, and she was touched by Sebastian’s thoughtfulness.
Turning to follow the housekeeper, Prudence knew she ought to be grateful for Mrs. Worth’s kindness, and yet she felt an odd yearning for her lover. As she made her way carefully down the narrow stairs, Prudence told herself that he was probably getting into some dry clothes. Then again, he had been as trapped as she by the situation in which they found themselves last night, and now that they were both free, the worldly earl might have no more interest in her.
Although distressing in the extreme, it was a possibility, Prudence admitted, as was the notion that she might be bundled off and on her way to her own cottage within the
hour. An ache that was startling in its intensity closed up her throat as she realized that all her worries for the future might be for naught.
“Come along,” Mrs. Worth called. “The bathing chamber is this way.” Swallowing hard, Prudence refused to succumb to such gloomy musings, and hurried to follow the housekeeper.
A bath. Prudence smiled at the imagery the word conjured up for her: a soak in the small brass tub beside the cottage’s kitchen hearth or a quick wash from the pitcher in her bedroom. Of course, she had heard of rooms devoted entirely to bathing, but she had never seen one—until today.
Wolfinger’s was as aweinspiring as the rest of the abbey. Its marble floor stretched out before her to meet walls lined with tiles depicting calming pastoral scenes, while above her a domed ceiling was cleverly wrought to resemble a cloudfilled sky. Below, she was ensconced in a sunken pool that little resembled the cramped interior of her tiny vessel at home.
Feeling delightfully wanton, Prudence stretched out one long leg and wiggled her toes above the surface. Why, there was enough water here for half a dozen people, she realized, and because of an intricate system of pipes, no servant had been forced to carry a drop of it.
The thought took away any guilt that might have interfered with her pleasure, and Prudence dipped backward to wet her hair. Bathing had always been a fairly practical procedure for her, but now it seemed positively…sensual. Perhaps her new attitude was a product of her luxurious surroundings, or maybe she was simply more aware of herself, she thought, blushing. Although she had rarely noticed her body before, now it seemed to have taken on a life of its own, demanding her attention with heightened senses.
And when she surrendered to its demands, Prudence found herself enjoying the delightful lap of warm water against her skin, the heady smell of some foreign fragrance that Mrs. Worth had sprinkled about, and the silken glide of her limbs against one another. It was as if she had entered a whole new world.
The sound of a door opening interrupted her exotic interlude, and Prudence lifted her head, suddenly alert. She stilled, listening for Mrs. Worth’s bustling noises, but nothing met her èars except silence. Whatever had disturbed her, it was not the housekeeper.
Despite the open shutters, the room remained dim, and Prudence searched the shadows for a hint of the shades that were said to haunt the abbey. Although she had longed to see the Devil Earl or his wife, she would not have chosen this time and place, when she was naked and vulnerable, for such a meeting. Eyeing the arched entry, Prudence discerned a dark form there, and her breath caught. It was no specter, she realized, but when she recognized exactly what—and who—it was, her pulse thrummed wildly.
“May I come in?” Sebastian’s deep voice sent shivers up her spine.
“Of course,” Prudence answered. She tried to speak evenly, just as though the presence of a man dunng her toilet was a normal occurrence, but her mounting excitement made her falter. Her bath took on a whole new aspect as she considered being observed not by a ghost, but by the current Devil Earl himself. “After all that has gone between us, I hardly think you need ask,” Prudence said.
“I shall always ask, Pru,” Sebastian replied in a wry tone. “Perhaps because I keep expecting you to deny me.” He stepped forward then, and Prudence saw that he was totally naked.
Heat climbed her cheeks and seeped into her very being at the sight of him, striding forward with arrogant grace, his muscles moving sinuously, his sex rampant. Apparently he
was not yet ready to say goodbye, and that knowledge filled her with relief and happiness. Anticipation danced along her skin from head to toe at his approach, and when he stopped at the edge of the sunken area to stare down at her, stretched before him, her body little hidden by its watery covering, she felt strangely exultant.
“I must say that you do not very much resemble the bookish spinster that I met at a cliffside cottage,” Sebastian said dryly.
“No, I do not, do I? Nor do I feel the same,” Prudence answered honestly. He took a step downward, following the stair into the depths of the tub, and her blood pounded at the thought of him joining her in the water. “I feel as if I am a new person,” she admitted as she watched him with greedy pleasure. “Sebastian, it is quite remarkable, but since knowing you, I feel as if I have come alive!”
Her words made him pause, and his eyes glittered, piercing her own as fiercely as if he were probing her soul. “How very odd. For I share the same sentiment,” he whispered. His lips curved upward slightly in a rueful expression. “I thought myself a dead man, but you have reanimated me with your own life force, as surely as Mrs. Shelley’s infamous surgeon.”
“Oh, have you read
Frankenstein?”
Prudence asked. She sat up suddenly, ignoring the water that rolled up to splash her companion, all her attention focused upon the other author’s famous work. She did not even notice how her breasts bobbed above the surface until she felt Sebastian’s hot gaze upon them. She looked down then, coloring brightly, as he slid into the tub in front of her.
“Later, Pru,” he said softly. “Remind me, and we shall discuss the book at length…later.”
“Yes,” Prudence murmured, all thought of novels and Gothic horrors forgotten as she lifted her arms toward the naked man in her bath.
His skin was silky sliding against hers, surprisingly so, and she found herself possessed of a new boldness that enabled her to reach out and touch him, his broad shoulders, his muscled chest, his arms like tempered steel. He leaned over her, pushing her into the water, tilting her head against the tiles as he took her mouth.
The scented water, the heat, the glide of his hands along her skin, made Prudence tremble, while the buoyancy made her feel light and free. Pushing Sebastian’s hair out of his eyes, she kissed his face, his ear, his throat. She ran wet fingers all over his body, his taut buttocks, his hard thighs, and when her fingers closed around his male sex, he groaned, the sound making her feel a heady power over the enigmatic earl.
Impatient now, he sat down on a step, pulling her along to straddle him as he lifted his mouth to her breasts, suckling her until she closed her eyes and whimpered her need. Then the water lapped against her as he lifted her, impaling her on his turgid sex, a slow, seamless gliding of two bodies as one.
Sebastian’s harsh features reflected a strained sort of awe in the dim light as Prudence lovingly traced them with her fingers and her lips, kissing the scar that marked him, the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He was the same powerful being he had always been, as potent and forceful as a seaswept storm, and yet, for an instant, Prudence thought she glimpsed in his gray gaze the same helpless surrender that she felt in his embrace. Then his arms closed tightly around her, and he surged upward, scattering her thoughts in a rush of sensation.
T
hey dissected
Frankenstein
after a late breakfast that Mrs. Worth claimed to be too sparse for an earl’s table. Sebastian was more than content, however. The simple food was adequate, and he derived a certain satisfaction from the animated dialogue with Prudence.
If there was something grisly about discussing exhumed body parts at table, Prudence did not make the connection, but continued on, happily, while Sebastian smiled wryly. She really was engaging…and intelligent and interesting and articulate. Sebastian leaned back and admired her until she caught him staring at her hotly. He saw just a flicker of answering passion in her hazel eyes before she remembered Mrs. Worth’s presence and caught herself. Dear Prudence!
“Now, my lord,” she said suddenly, in a determined tone, “I believe we were going to search the library for clues as to James’s disappearance.” Her words were followed by the sharp crack of china breaking, and Sebastian glanced over to see the housekeeper standing over a fallen plate with a horrified look on her face.
“Pardon me, miss…my lord,” she said, shooting a fearful glance at Sebastian. He nodded grimly, well accustomed to that kind of regard—the kind that labeled him a murderer out of hand.
“Now, see here, Mrs. Worth!” Prudence exclaimed. “You cannot believe that nonsense about His Lordship murdering his brother!” The housekeeper knelt to pick up the pieces with a wary frown. “It is not my place to say, miss, but there are strange doings at the abbey, and that’s a fact!”
“Well, you can rest assured that the earl had nothing to do with James’s flight, and I shall prove it,” Prudence declared, rising to her feet. Turning to Sebastian, she smiled in anticipation. “We are going to get to the bottom of this mystery, are we not, Your Lordship?”
Sebastian stood, a little stunned by her moving defense of him. She truly was a marvel, a treasure he did not deserve but was determined to enjoy nonetheless. He walked across the room toward her, his lips curling wryly. “I can see that I should have consulted you months ago, instead of the Bow Street Runner.”
“But of course!” Prudence said, taking his arm familiarly. She grinned up at him and then down at Mrs. Worth, who was still crouching upon the floor, gaping at them in astonishment. Bemused, Sebastian left the dining hall with the distinct impression that his champion had just won the housekeeper over to her cause.
Sebastian strolled through the abbey, gazing about him with new appreciation and taking pleasure in Prudence’s obvious delight in her surroundings. As they approached the library, his steps slowed, however, and he steeled himself against the heavy weight that usually settled upon his spirit there.
Regret, a useless and heretofore unfamiliar emotion, struck him more forcefully in the dark quiet of this room than anywhere else. If only he had handled his brother better… If only he had not given chase, perhaps James would not have fled.
Ifs,
Sebastian thought grimly, were as worthless as wishes, and he had spent too much time of late pondering them.
Perhaps that was why he did not feel the oppression that normally dogged him here; hopefully, he was done with his uncharacteristic melancholy. Even as the thought flitted through his mind, however, Sebastian embraced another, more likely conclusion:
She
had banished it.
Leaning against the massive, ornate desk, he watched while Prudence walked around the perimeter, her bright gaze studying everything, as though she might learn the secrets of the ages with but a glance. Although Sebastian held out little hope of discovering anything useful, nonetheless he decided that if anyone could accomplish the impossible, it would be Prudence—by force of will alone. After all, had she not redeemed the Devil Earl single-handedly?
Crossing his arms against his chest, Sebastian assessed the formidable woman who had so altered his existence. How had she done it? Unlike any female he had known since his mother’s passing, she neither wheedled nor taunted nor bargained. She simply believed in him. Somehow, this bright, lovely,
genuine
lady saw something good hidden deep down inside him. And the knowledge awed him.
She deserved better, but Sebastian had ceased to worry about such details. Things he had not believed in for years— destiny, fate, or perhaps even God himself—had taken a hand. Who was he, a mere mortal, to argue? He smiled, enjoying the pleasure to be had in simply watching her, before his mind moved to other, more earthly delights.