Page 67 of Charity

His hand swept down her back and over her bottom. “I regret not fighting harder to win you from Carrington before you married him. I regret not making love to you openly that night. And I especially regret not courting you the minute Carrington’s body was cold in the ground. I feel like I’ve missed your whole life.”

Manning’s hands kneaded her bottom and Estella shuddered. “My life isn’t over yet.”

He grinned suddenly, and his hands stilled. “No. But since you haven’t consented to share the rest with me, I may still miss out. Marry me, Essy. You may scold me and make me earn my place at your side, but do not send me away.” His hands moved again, curling her tighter against him, raising one of her legs in the process. “Not when we can feel like this together after all these years.”

Lynton kissed her suddenly. Estella moaned and opened her mouth to him. A hot rush of sensation gripped her as they wrestled to touch any part of each other they could. She teased his tongue until he growled at her, and Estella gave up the fight against him and her desires. She did want him in her life and in her bed.

She had been very good at lying to herself.

He ground his hips against her as they kissed until Estella thought she’d go mad. Poor Thomas had never made her feel like this, not even on his most amorous day. She drew back, gentling Lynton with her fingers over his lips. He kissed them, then drew them into his mouth. The unexpected suction drew her senses higher. He circled his hips against her. Her body tightened unexpectedly as she climaxed. She shook. She gasped. She buried her face at Lynton’s throat to hide her embarrassment.

He forced her gaze back to his. He smiled like the devil himself. “Good to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

Although still astonished, she smiled back and curled her arms about his neck. “Gracious. How did you?”

“Not quite the saint you thought me.” He laughed suddenly. “Believe me, I have years of fantasies to prove with you. Marry me so I may seduce you properly.”

He kissed her flaming cheeks gently while Estella struggled to think. If he could do that and not think of it as a seduction, she was in terrible straights if he did. She stared across the room blindly as his kisses progressed to her neck.

Clearly, he’d employed the last few years wisely, not perhaps as saintly as one would expect. She dropped one arm down his back until she reached his hip, and since there was space between their bodies, she laid her hand over his erection.

Lynton hissed. “That was a ‘yes’ to marriage, Essy. Don’t think I won’t hold you to it.”

Estella met his gaze as she moved her hand. Lynton shuddered and swept her to a couch. She cupped his face between her hands as he hovered over her. “Oh, yes.”

Agatha opened her eyes for the third time to see the same sagging ceiling suspended above her. She had so hoped this was a dream, not a nightmare come to life. But judging from the coarse sounds filtering into the room, she was in a house of ill repute somewhere. The masculine groans and the banging of a bed frame against the wall behind her head reminded her, once again, that she was helpless.

She tested the bonds that held her hands and feet in place again. They didn’t give her the slightest hope of a successful escape, yet if she called out and assistance arrived, she might be in more trouble. They’d taken her gown and she lay clothed only in a thin chemise on the bed. The position they held her in should excite any man with a heartbeat who should walk through the door.

She lifted her head to see the closed door. So far, she’d seen no one but her two abductors. She didn’t remember anything after the carriage pulled up in the lane. She didn’t remember this house or being stripped of her demure black gown. She desperately hoped that the door was locked.

She lay back down. There was nothing to be gained by panicking. Nothing could change until that door opened and either savior or sinner passed the threshold.

Footsteps approached and keys rattled in a lock. Agatha raised her head to see who came near. It was a woman she didn’t recognize, but guessed to be the abbess of this crumbling establishment.

The woman who must have hired those thugs to abduct her was a well-dressed older lady, a woman who could walk on the street and be called elegant. She shut the door behind her and came closer. “You’re awake at last.”

Agatha nodded carefully, mindful of her aching head.

“Good. Tell me your name.”

Agatha frowned and kept her mouth closed. Shouldn’t the abbess know who she was? Agatha had assumed the woman had abducted her. Was that not the case?

She looked around the room. Nothing in her line of vision gave her any clue to where she was except for the rhythmic thumping against the wall. The peeling paper was old and faded, as was the quilt beneath her body. The window was covered by fading drapes, so she couldn’t see the world outside or guess at the time of day. The house seemed old, possibly one in a poorer part of London. Yet this woman was stylishly turned out. She looked as if she’d just returned from a carriage ride during the fashionable hour with friends. But her gaze held no warmth. She seemed immune to Agatha’s helpless situation.

The woman frowned. “It is not like my friend to gift me with a girl with no logical explanation. I have a busy house to run, and should not like the inconvenience of dealing with irate family if you are not the fancyware you should be. Who is your father?”

Agatha kept her lips closed. If she answered honestly, she’d be signing her own downfall. There was no one legally bound to care for her now. Not even Oscar.

The abbess’ cold, dry hands skimmed over hers. “Soft. A lady of leisure?”

The woman inspected her exposed skin. Agatha suffered the indignity of the cold touch without response for as long as she could, but when the woman lifted her chemise to look beneath, she bucked to get away.

The abbess frowned. “If you’re clean, I can ask a higher price for your first gentleman caller. There is many a man who would take one look at you as you are and demand a whole night in this bed.” The abbess tested the bonds at her ankles and hands. “It is not usually my way to resort to such precautions, but Prewie was adamant that you should not get away. I will have to ask for more particulars about you before we proceed.”

Prewie? Did she mean Lord Prewitt? But why would he bring her here? She had done nothing but turn aside his scandalous offer to share his bed. She’d suspected Lady Penelope’s family would be incensed by Oscar’s behavior but why would Lord Prewitt retaliate so cruelly?

The thumping against the wall ended with a harsh groan.