Page 68 of Love with a Notorious Rake

Rokesmith frowned. “Go to hell.”

“Last chance,” Aidan forced out through his clenched teeth.

“All right. I’ll think on it. Two days, you said?”

Aidan leaned down, meeting him eye-to-eye. “Do not think to use that time to try to double-cross me, boy. You do not wish to betray the Wollstonecrafts. Not an heir to an earl. Think on that.” Aidan stepped back. “Go and bring me the basket.”

Rokesmith growled, but did as he told. “I knew you were a toff. You walk like you own the world. Your hands are too clean. No old scars. I should have known.”

“It hardly matters in this place.” Aidan grabbed the lad’s arm. “Enjoy the meal. Think of your Lottie. You want to protect her? Keep her with you as a sister? Then you know what to do.” He released Rokesmith, then said in a gentle tone, “I will hold up my end of the bargain. And more. I give you my word.”

Rokesmith mumbled inaudibly as he walked away.

Well, he’d tried. If the boy cared as much for the children as he claimed, then he would comply. Already Samuel was ready to move rapidly and alert the authorities in Hinckley when needed. It would depend how serious the news would be. Aidan had the impression the secret would be grim indeed.

Enough of this; he had a hot meal waiting for him. Things were coming together on all fronts. Once concluded, he could concentrate on living his life. He was more than ready to place the past behind him and live as an honorable man. And, with any luck at all, a man in love.

* * * *

Aidan would be a hard nut to crack. Since their first encounter at the sanatorium, Cristyn could tell he held his emotions in check. He was doing the same here. Though he may not wish to acknowledge it, he was vulnerable—perhaps he always had been. Men usually avoided such examinations, as if they made them less of a man. Not in Cristyn’s mind. She sighed and sipped her tea. There was no fire in her room tonight; it was far too warm. She had the window open and was curled up in the chair next to it, taking advantage of the slight breeze wafting in from outside. The pleasing scent of Mrs. Trubshaw’s prized roses filled the air.

Hard to believe it was the end of July. The past few weeks had passed in an exhilarating blur. Not only in her duties at Paris’s clinic, but with Aidan. Cristyn thought that after losing her virginity she would feel…different. She certainly didn’t mourn the loss of it. Except for a slight ache between her legs, and the fact that it felt as if Aidan were still inside her, no great transformation had taken place.

Never had she felt more alive. Her nerve endings still sparked. Her heart still thundered madly. A slow smile crept across her face. Considering the fact they had not removed all of their clothes, and that the act itself concluded in less than fifteen minutes, Cristyn had thoroughly enjoyed it.

Closing her eyes, she relived him moving in and out of her. How skilled. He varied the speed and depth of his thrusts to give her maximum pleasure. Dear heaven, such incendiary passion—on both sides. Cristyn had observed desire in his eyes as he thrust into her.

And to think Aidan claimed it would only improve. She opened her eyes and glanced at the open window with a wistful look, hoping he would appear. But they couldn’t take the chance.

Beyond all the drama and the appearance of Delaney, the fact that she had told him she loved him had lifted a weight from her. Cristyn reasoned that being truthful with her feelings would spur Aidan into confronting his emotions at long last, but it appeared she would have to wait a little longer for him to say those all important words: “I love you.”

And what about Aidan’s confession regarding selling himself for opium? Shouldn’t she have been horrified at such a scandalous act, and turn from him in revulsion? Many ladies of society would.

But Cristyn was not one of them, beholden to strict rules and codes of acceptable behavior. She was not a rich, coddled heiress living in a protected bubble of elite privilege and self-righteous axioms.

Though it could be said she lived in a protected bubble of her own. Born and brought up in an idyllic country village, what had she known of true suffering? Earl Shilton had given her an eye-opening lesson about those who dealt with poverty and sickness on a daily basis, doing all they could—legal or not—to survive.

She took another sip of tea, but paused when she heard loud arguing in the alley. Two men were fighting over a chicken, no doubt pilfered from a nearby farm. Yes, these were desperate people. It wasn’t right that humans must exist in such conditions. It made her admire Paris all the more for his generous offering of medical care.

But the majority of her admiration was for Aidan. Perhaps he needed to cleanse his soul, seek redemption, whatever it would take for him to be the man that he truly wished to be. Though he was brutally honest in admonishing his own behavior, Cristyn more than anyone understood how difficult it was to admit, let alone do anything to turn one’s life around.

Living in her own shielded cocoon, she had little experience with men. Oh, she had certainly treated many of various ages, had seen plenty of men naked in her duties as a nurse. But outside of messy kisses from neighborhood boys, no one had touched or kissed her like Aidan had.

Placing the cup on the table, Cristyn drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Aidan was notorious, scandalous, a complete bounder—and she loved him anyway, because along with that love was a deep and firm belief that an honorable and heroic man lay at the core of his being. He was worth loving. Worth supporting. Worth the entire world.

Now it was time for Aidan to realize it. Only then could they move forward.

* * * *

Aidan had stayed up half the night writing out every violation he had witnessed the past month. In between his scribbling, he consumed his meal, and also completed a rigorous session of calisthenics. He had to work off his excess lust, turn his mind and body toward other pursuits besides a certain violet-eyed, innocent—but seductive—siren. It had been difficult, for the brief lovemaking had consumed his thoughts, scorching his heart and soul. It wasn’t enough, not near enough.

Perhaps it would not be enough even for a lifetime.

Along with his sexual appetite, he found that his appetite for food had also increased of late. That was another good sign for his continued healing. But the best indication had been being honest with Cristyn, and handing the opium over to her. That crisis had mercifully passed.

Today, he was on a mission. If Rokesmith did not reveal the supposed secrets, then Aidan would need plenty of ammunition to bring official charges against McRae—and he had taken an abundance of notes.

As he strolled along the platform, watching over the factory floor, his mind drifted toward Cristyn, as it had done often since yesterday evening. God, he could not wait to see her again. Hold her close. Kiss her until those soft moans escaped her luscious lips.