Once Upon a Rake Read online

  Torn between returning to his townhouse and resting as he should, or going to the mill and getting a head start on the day, he opted for the mill. In spite of endless lovemaking, energy still burned through his body. If he had to, he would finish early and take a nap before visiting Ellie. Lord knows, he would need the energy.

  It took him twenty minutes of walking through the backstreets to get to the mill. Smoke hung in the air but the streets were blessedly quiet. The inns would have emptied hours ago and only a few windows released a golden glow onto the cobbles.

  Lucian unlocked the gate and drew it shut before locking it again. He stuffed the keys into his coat pocket and made his way to the office. The quiet would disturb him normally. He had come to relish the clatter of the machines. It gave him something to concentrate on. No one seemed to realise how much the fire had cost him. How could he continue being the consummate rake with a face and a body like his? Though it didn’t seem to bother Ellie.

  A grin crept across his face as he thought of her curled up and warm and soft beneath the bedding.

  Still, the accident had done one thing. Turned his attention to his father’s investments. And the mill was one place he could make a difference. Most of the other schemes ran themselves and none were threatening to collapse beneath him. Every person who had known his father spoke of his business acumen, and Lucian had to prove himself as capable.

  He paused at the top step when he spotted a spark of light in one of the windows. One of the foremen perhaps? No, why would they be here at four in the morning? He scowled. A thief more likely and a damn brave one. They’d have had to scale the gates to get in.

  Lucian strode in the direction of the mill and found one of the doors open, unlocked. What the devil? He entered slowly, aware he had no weapon on him. He liked his chances in a fair fight but not in a dark mill with an unknown would-be assailant.

  A shuffle drew his attention to the rear of the mill and he peered into the darkness, past the motionless looms. Cotton dust swirled in the air, telling him someone was in there. He took another step forwards and a sudden flare of light had him reeling back. The flash of a figure dashed across the back of the room and he swore aloud when he realised the light was coming from the cotton bales.

  Fire.

  Bloody hell. He had to put it out.

  He raced over and tore off his frock coat. The flames were not large but cotton went up easily, as he well knew. He threw the garment over the flames and stomped until he was sure there was no chance of the flames restarting. The smell of singed cotton and sack hung in the air and his arm itched with remembrance.

  Peeling back the coat, he flung it aside and inspected the damage in the dim light. The bale had hardly caught thankfully, but he had lost the person responsible for the fire. Damnation. He strode out of the back door and peered around but he knew the blackguard would be long gone.

  “What the bloody hell...?” he asked himself.

  Something odd was going on. For a mill with such a low record of accidents, too many had happened and now someone had tried to set fire to the place. That was no accident.

  Three hours later, he had his head foreman in his office. His dour expression likely matched his own.

  “I’m going to hire some security for the nights. Are you sure none of the men have seen anyone suspicious?”

  “Nothing, my lord,” said Mr Fuller. “If the criminal was here last night, chances are they entered at night.”

  “And they’re a fine lock picker. And saboteur. I don’t know why we did not see it before.”

  “Machinery goes wrong, my lord. We had no reason to think otherwise.”

  Lucian rubbed his itchy eyes. The smoke and lack of sleep had taken its toll and though the bobbies had been, they could offer no answers. They promised to patrol past the mill at night but they had a whole town to look after.

  He had already spoken with a rough character his foreman knew who could hire several aggressive types to look after the mill. He didn’t relish having that type of man around but better them than someone wanting to burn the place down. And now they had looked into the previous accidents it seemed clear they were deliberate. Why had he not seen it before?

  Lucian pinched his nose. Because he had been so intent on keeping the place running and fighting his attraction to Ellie. He’d failed on the latter but the mill was still afloat. Just.

  Nothing more could go wrong. They would never catch up on the orders if something did and if whoever this person was succeeded in burning the place, there would be no salvaging it. Who was it?

  “Fuller, can you think of anyone who might wish to close the mill? An ex-worker perhaps?”

  The older man shook his head. “No, not off the top of my head. You have a good reputation, my lord. It would be far more likely one of the other mills would have disgruntled workers.”

  “Well, keep your ear to the ground.”

  “Of course.”

  Fuller left, leaving Lucian staring at the ledger for the week. Ellie would probably want to look over it, nosey little chit. In spite of everything, the thought made him smile.

  Pushing back his chair, he scraped two hands through his hair and made to put on his coat only to remember it had suffered a stomping on and a fire. He pulled down his rolled up sleeves and strode out into the courtyard. Lucian slid past a cart with fresh bales of cotton on and stepped into the mill.

  This time the rattle of machines washed over him and the workers touched their caps in greeting as he strode past to the back of the room. The police had already inspected the scene but found nothing. No evidence of the intruder. Could it have been an accident, they asked. A figment of his imagination? Had he been smoking? Devil take it, he did not even smoke. He had enough vices as it was and now they were treating this as though he was blind and not just scarred.

  He rubbed a hand over his arm when his skin itched again. The blackened remains of a cotton bale remained. He’d have to get someone to clear it up. But, wait a moment?

  He grabbed one of the nearby workers. “Was this how it was this morning?”

  “The bales, my lord?”

  “Yes, the bales.”

  “Aye, my lord. We’ve not touched it. Did not know if you wanted to keep it for evidence or summat.”

  “Right, my thanks.” Lucian nodded distractedly and waved the man away.

  The bales puzzled him. They would normally be stacked much higher and they’d only had a recent delivery but these were set apart from the rest and were only a few high. As though a great blaze had never been the intention. But why set a fire if the purpose was not to burn the place down?

  He rubbed the back of his neck. If only he wasn’t so tired, then maybe he could figure this puzzle out. No doubt Ellie would have some smart answers for him, but he was not sure he wanted her involved. She had been harmed once before and he was loath to let anything happen to her. Not to mention, he could do without her distracting him as she had the past months.

  Well, at least he’d burn through his attraction to her before long. Maybe he’d regain his focus then. He pictured her milky skin against the purple bedding and tried to shake away the image. Or perhaps not.

  Chapter Twenty

  More Berry Red

  The day had been uneventful for Eleanor. She had risen late, shopped a little and poured over the few books from the mill she had brought with her. Something was still striking her as odd but she could not put her finger on it. With no friends in town, she had little else to occupy her but it did strike her as a little miserable to be sitting in her hotel room, pouring over accounts.

  Not that her smile would leave her face or even let her lament the fact she still knew few people in England. Her thighs ached and her body felt beautifully used. Had she dreamed the whole thing? It was hard to believe she’d bedded Lucian, one of the most infamous rakes in Yorkshire. And he had been beautifully tender and passionate—even amusing at times.

  She tapped her fingers on the book a
nd glanced at the small gilded clock on the console table. A bubble of excitement welled in her chest. She had forced herself not to count down the hours but he would be here soon. It was so deliciously naughty to be sitting in one’s nightclothes waiting for a lover. She was not wearing her drawers again and only the soft brush of silk kept her clothed.

  Maggie, her lady’s maid had accompanied her and was staying in the lower rooms, and had helped her pick out an attractive garment to wear. If she thought her depraved for such behaviour, the maid certainly did not show it, not when she was encouraging her to buy the shocking red silk garment.

  Eleanor thought she had become quite adept at only wearing flattering gowns and nightwear, but none suited her like this one. With her hair caught up in its usual curls and the red silk caressing her body and dropping low to reveal the curves of her breasts, she thought she could almost be attractive.

  What would Lucian think?

  She blew out a breath and put the books aside so as to stand and view herself in the full length mirror. Was it her imagination or did she look more grown up? No sign of little Ellie Browning here. She laughed at her reflection. One night of lovemaking did not change one’s appearance, but funny how one night did more than seven years of marriage and travelling. People often travelled to find oneself, she thought, but what if she had simply become more lost and with Lucian, she found herself?

  Strolling to the dressing table, she dabbed on a little perfume and laughed at herself again. “Ellie, you must be out of your wits.”

  Finding herself with a consummate rake and the man who had once hurt her terribly? Unlikely. But Lucian had changed. His unselfishness in bed was a demonstration of that, and did she not know how hard he worked now? The only thing the old Lucian worked hard at was seducing beautiful widows.

  A rap at the door made her heart bound. She paused to take a sip of wine from the glass on the silver tray on the round table. She had ordered some food too but she had no idea if Lucian would be hungry. She certainly wasn’t. Not for food at least.

  Eleanor swallowed and drew open the door, butterflies beating in her chest. Her limbs felt warm and weak. A tilted smile greeted her, then wide eyes and a deep darkening of his gaze. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his necktie loose. He did not even seem to care that his scarred arm was revealed. Fatigue haunted his expression, making the lines around his eyes more distinct and his hair looked as though he had been shoving his hands repeatedly through it.

  But he was still as handsome as ever.

  He let out a low whistle. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie...”

  “Are you coming in?”

  He stepped in and kicked the door shut with his foot. She gulped as his grin turned wicked and any hint of fatigue seemed to drop from him. In its place was desire—pure and unadulterated desire. For her.

  She twined her hands in front of her and, as he took a step forwards, she took one step back. It terrified and excited her at the same time—this overwhelming desire. What to do with it?

  What other choice did she have?

  They stepped forwards at the same moment. Silk met a cotton shirt and his hands immediately went into her hair, shaking loose pins and gripping her head fiercely. She dug her fingers into his neck and felt her nipples harden against him. She barely had time to draw breath before his mouth was upon her. He tasted of whisky and smelled smoky, as though he had been sitting near an open fire all day. And she could not get enough of him.

  “Oh, Ellie,” he murmured between kisses.

  “Lucian,” she responded, the word husky.

  “I’ve been thinking of nothing else all day,” he said while he trailed hot kisses down the side of her face and throat, before seeking her mouth once more.

  His tongue thrust impatiently into her mouth and she met him, touch for touch, kiss for kiss. Heat licked over every part of her body and need consumed her. Eleanor swept her hands up and down his back, and felt the rippling muscles and tension there.

  “What are you wearing?” he muttered as he took a moment to nip down her neck to her breasts.

  She lifted a shoulder, unable to answer as he brought his mouth down over the silk to draw a nipple into his mouth. Eleanor gasped at the welcome relief it brought and clutched his head to her.

  “You...you like it?”

  “Very, very much. Too much. How am I to keep my wits about me?”

  “You do not need your wits.”

  “I always need my wits about me in your presence,” he said against her breasts, “but I cannot keep them with you around.” Lucian drew straight and stood back to eye her, his hands to her shoulders. “I should like to remember you just like this?”

  “Desperate and wanting?”

  He let out an astonished laugh. “I thought you a lady, Countess, but it appears I was wrong. And I am so very grateful I was, but I have come straight from the mill. I had intended to wash and change before coming to you, yet I didn’t.”

  “I care not. Lucian, don’t make me wait.”

  “I smell of smoke and dust.”

  “You smell lovely.”

  “Lovely? Hmmm. That is not very masculine.”

  “Lucian,” she said, frustration tingeing her voice. How could he stand there, staring at her when she felt she might explode into flames at any moment if he did not touch her?

  “The countess wants something.” His lips quirked.

  “Yes, you!”

  “So I must oblige.”

  He closed the gap once more and coaxed her mouth open beneath his. He didn’t have to do much coaxing. She accepted his tongue willingly and relished the warm taste of him. His hands found her rear and with one easy movement, he had her lifted and her legs wrapped about him. In his arms, she felt delicate and feminine. Raw strength surrounded her and even though he complained of smelling smoky, it only added to his appeal.

  Eleanor gripped his hair and kissed him furiously. She did not think she would ever get enough of his kisses. She wanted this affair to last forever.

  Lucian stumbled a little as the kiss deepened and she gasped when the wall met her back.

  “What does my countess want?” he asked.

  “You.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  “Here?”

  “Here!”

  He used a hand to hitch up her chemise and she heard him fumble with his trousers. Heat touched her most intimate parts and she gasped as she felt how wet and ready she was. Pinned against the door, he touched his nose to hers and stared deeply into her eyes before thrusting deep inside her.

  Shocked by the sudden invasion, she stiffened and he flattened his lips to her neck as he began to move inside her. She could do nothing but dig her nails into his back and cry out with each thrust. She was being noisy yet she could not help herself. Each slide of him inside her drew new sensations to the surface, so exquisite they were almost unbearable.

  The door behind her seemed to shake, though perhaps that was her and she grappled for a hold on something while her other hand wove into his hair and kept him pinned to her body. She found purchase on a picture and her fingers curled around the frame, only for it to knock to the floor. The clatter didn’t even seem to register to Lucian and she could not bring herself to care.

  “Yes. Oh, please,” she begged.

  “Bloody hell,” he groaned.

  Sensation built inside her until she thought she might swoon. Lucian’s lips were everywhere, kissing her forehead, her lips, her neck. His pace grew erratic and each sweep of him inside her forced her to tighten her grip on his hair.

  “Ellie.”

  Her name, so harsh and fragile on his tongue was the undoing of her. She came apart with a cry. Her body became liquid in his arms and she clenched her eyes shut as the blissful pleasure flooded her senses. Convulsing around him, she heard his groan and a rough whisper—her name. Warmth filled her and his grip tightened then relaxed.

  Body heaving, he pressed his forehead to hers. She ope
ned her eyes and drew in great gasps of air. A blissful sense of peace came over her and her body felt warm and satisfied. Eleanor smoothed her palms over his hair and clasped him to her. They remained like that for several moments until he seemed to have gathered his breath.

  One by one his fingers released their hold on her rear and he disengaged them to lower her to the floor. Lucian kept her captured against the wall, however. He peered at her from under his brow, that half-smile on his lips, but his eyes belied the message on them. Those green eyes were serious and it made her chest constrict.

  “What do you do to me, my love?”

  Oh, how her heart pounded at those words. Why should she be so excited by such a notion? He had promised her nothing more than pleasure, and pleasure he had given her. She was no starry eyed seventeen-year-old anymore. There would be no happily ever after for them, just a few moments of shared enjoyment, and that was all she wanted, was it not?

  “The same thing you do to me, I suspect,” she replied, proud of how strong her voice sounded.

  He dropped a kiss to her lips and straightened her nightgown. “I should not have spilled inside of you. Should anything happen...”

  She shook her head, unwilling to hear his proposal of what he should do should she fall pregnant with his child. He would offer money perhaps, or at least claim the child. “It won’t happen. I was married for seven years and it never happened.”

  His brows lifted as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Yes, I suppose it did not.”

  Eleanor offered weak smile. “It is likely me, though Edward did not...I mean...”

  She put a hand to her mouth. She shouldn’t be disrespecting her husband like this. He had been a good man. Was it his fault he did not find her attractive enough to bed her? Besides, the few times he had done his duty to try to get her with child had failed. There had to be something wrong with her.

  “He did not bed you?”

  “Enough to make sure there would be no doubt about me being his wife,” she offered quietly. She pressed a hand to his arm. “Lucian, it does not matter, I don’t feel comfortable discussing my late husband with you. Come you must be hungry.” Motioning to the food she had ordered up, she strode to the bathroom and paused in the doorway. “I shall clean up then join you.”