The words penetrated, and Edward slowly came to his senses. He released Welton sending the man stumbling back. Edward eased back down.
Griston sipped his whiskey, a cynical curl on his thin lips.
“I h-heard t-tell the Duke of Marlborough’s grandson was able t-to inherit through a daughter. Perhaps, perhaps…” Welton’s voice tapered to nothing.
Griston grinned. “There’s your solution, Maudsley. And fear not, I shall keep your secrets.”
Edward narrowed his eyes on the man. “For a fee, of course.”
“Of course.” Griston’s tone dripped ice. He finished off his whiskey. “I’ll draft up the documents for you to present to the prime minister. There are no guarantees. But I do have a price. And regardless of the outcome, that price shall remain the same.”
“And the price?”
His grin numbed Edward, inside out. “Does it matter?”
Edward would pay the man’s fee, and Griston knew it.
Edward turned a condescending smile on Welton. “I thinkyoujust landed yourself a wife, Welton.”
Welton gaped at him, apparently still stupefied by the gist of the conversation. Edward wasn’t worried about Welton. The ideal solution for keeping Welton quiet had dropped in their laps.
“I believe the earl refers to your impending nuptials with his… long-lost daughter.” Griston grinned at Welton. “Congratulations, old man. As a baron’s son, you’ve just been granted the coveted opportunity to enhance your social connections.”
The wild-eyed panic in Welton’s face was priceless. Maudsley threw back his head. Laughter rumbled from his chest, startling the surrounding patrons. He clapped Welton on the back. “That you have,son.”
Eighteen
L
orelei arched and stretched, feeling like a well-fed feline. Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked at the unfamiliar setting. The dark furnishings were nothing like the soft ivory duvet and lace curtains in her own chamber.
Oh, yes. She’d seen the younger girls to bed and never made it to her own chambers after arriving late the night before. Thorne had been waiting just outside the nursery door for her. She’d stepped into the hall, and he’d swept her up in a mind-tingling rush of ardent kisses.
A heavy arm fell across her midsection, then dragged her back against the heated warmth of her husband.
“And what are your plans for today, my dear?” He growled against her neck, sending an onslaught of delicious tremors over her.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the weight of his arm over her. “I can’t think of anything so urgent at this very moment.”
“I can.”
He turned her head and swept his tongue into her mouth. His hand slid up her ribs to her breast, his arousal hot and swelled against her backside. His leg moved between hers. She met his tongue stroke for stroke. She pressed her sex against his thigh.
His mouth broke from hers. “You like that, do you?”
“Mm. I do.” She twisted her body, facing him. She lay on her side, her nose in his sternum. She breathed in the scent of their lovemaking. Ran her hands over the muscled contour of his bare chest. She traced one palm down his side to his hip bone and nudged him back just enough. She clasped his penis. Heat warmed her fingers.
His quick inhale sent desire flowing between her legs. She gripped harder, and his mouth possessed hers again. The rhythm of his tongue matched that of her hand. He rolled to his back, pulling her over him. His lips moved to her jaw, her collarbone. His hands brushed her nipples, then quickly cupped her breasts. He tortured her nipples with his teeth and tongue. His fingers trailed her stomach to her wet cleft… his thumb—
She gasped. His thumb pressed the hidden nub, then rubbed. One finger dipped inside, and she gasped. “More,” she begged.
He lifted her up, and she guided him in. He surged up, deep. A guttural sound rumbled from his chest to hers. He sucked her nipple, first one, then the other. She danced with him, meeting every thrust. Thrust after thrust. The explosion of sparks erupted in a scream she covered in his shoulder. He surged up one last time. Hot seed filled her.
She bent over him. Spent and panting, her breath matching his. Their hearts pounded in the synchronization of a well-rehearsed symphony. Tears burned, welled up from the emotion roiling within her. To her dismay, one leaked out.
He took her shoulders and lifted her. “What is this?” His thumb brushed her eye.
“Nothing.”
