Page 21 of Only Pleasure Will Do

Chapter 9

Half dozing after that tumultuous coupling, Reginald lay still despite the scratchy blanket that covered him, completely aware of the warm armful of woman whose head was pillowed on his chest. Never had a woman sated him so thoroughly, nor brought him to completion so swiftly after he’d already spent himself in pleasure. She’d proved her reputation as a skilled lover, even if the men who touted it were lying. He could now attest to it truthfully, although he never would, of course.

Her tale of betrayal by the odious Sir Peter was infuriating, and Reginald would’ve called the man out immediately upon his return to London if the scoundrel wasn’t already dead. Instead, he would need to assist Maddy in disposing of the House of Pleasure and seeing to it that she began a new life with her daughter. A new life in which he could, perhaps, play a part.

He’d been intrigued by the seductive Amorina Vestry last year; now, having heard the history and plight of Aimée Forrester, he was even more fascinated by the beautiful woman who could be, by turns, hard as nails and soft as silk. They’d shared more intimacies in the past few hours than he’d done in a pair of years, and never with a woman for whom he’d felt such yearning. Her sexual prowess aside, Maddy’s strength and determination to accept her circumstances—but not the limitations such a life would naturally force on a woman—appealed to him in so many ways. He’d seen the seedy side of life for many years, seen what it had done to men and women. But not, apparently, to Maddy. That spoke to her strength of character and intelligence. Two things that were essential to Reginald.

That she was not a virgin did not particularly bother him, especially given the harsh realities of her story. The past was immutable, and he would not hold against her what she could not control. She was no more tarnished, in his eyes, than a woman who’d had a husband and a child by him. Maddy deserved a fresh start, and he was determined to give her one as soon as they could escape from this prison.

“I hope they send someone with food shortly.” Maddy hadn’t moved. He’d not thought her awake yet. “You must be hungry, and I am quite famished.”

“Strenuous exercise will often do that to you.” He smiled and stroked her hair, when something unusual among the dark locks that streamed across his chest caught his attention. “Why is your hair blond at the roots?”

Maddy gasped and sat up in the bed, her hands going to her hair. “Oh, no!” She clamped her hands to the part in her hair. “It’s been weeks since I could attend to it, so it’s begun to grow out.”

“Grow out?” He cocked his head.

She nodded. “As part of my Amorina Vestry disguise, I dyed my hair with color made from the crushed shells of walnuts because I wanted to look completely different from Aimee, who had blond hair. So I apply the mixture to my hair once or twice a week and it stays dark.” Her cheeks pinkened. “I even pluck my eyebrows and paint them on with the brown color, so no one will know I am blond.”

“I’m certain you’ve succeeded in fooling everyone, my dear.” He touched the soft lock of dark hair that rested in the center of her back. “You seem to have thought of everything. I’m sure you will be able to forsake the House of Pleasure now and resume your true identity.”

“Now that Sir Peter is dead, I may indeed have a chance to escape that house.” She glanced around the rough and ill-furnished room and sighed. “If we can escape this house.”

Grasping her shoulder, he turned her to face him. “We will get out of here. I promise you.”

Her wan smile spoke to him of her doubts. She had no idea the lengths to which he would go to free them. Setting fire to the door was a final, drastic option, but he wouldn’t hesitate if he believed they had no other choice. In which case, they had best rise and dress and begin to assess the situation in the daylight. “Come, Maddy.” He caressed her face, and her smile widened. “Let us try the door once more. Daylight may show us a way that the darkness hid.”

She rose and scooped up her discarded chemise. Shaking it out to remove as much dust as possible, she turned her back to him, giving him a delectable view of her perfectly rounded backside until the dirt-streaked garment hid her lovely form.

With a shake of his head, Reginald slid off the bed and gathered his clothes from various parts of the room where they’d been dropped or tossed in the throes of passion. He donned his small clothes, stockings and breeches then peered around the room. Where the devil had his shirt gotten to?

“I believe you may be looking for this, Reginald.” Maddy, attired in a loose-fitting dove gray gown, held out the missing garment. “It somehow ended up under the cot.”

“Thank you.” He took it and snaked it over his head. “I’m glad I didn’t rip it in my haste to take it off.”

“We were in a bit of a hurry.” Her dark eyes glittered as he tucked his shirttail into his breeches and buttoned them.

“As we are now.” He plucked his cravat from the end of the bed and wound it around his neck. No time for more than a serviceable bow. He looped the length of linen around twice then flipped the ends over and tucked them in the front of his shirt. After shrugging into his gray jacket, he adjusted his shirt sleeves quickly and donned his cloak. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“In a moment.” She swiftly completed the spiral lacing of her corset then pulled the edges of her bodice together and laced that up as well. “I haven’t worn this gown since the first day I was imprisoned. I didn’t want it to get filthy, and I hardly needed it anyway. I was able to fold it and lay it on the stone hearth.” She shook out the folds of the gown. “I hope it doesn’t look too disreputable.”

Reginald feasted his eyes on the trim form before him. Other than a few wrinkles, the gown showed no signs of disrepair. “Not at all, my dear. It becomes you perfectly.”

The rattle of a bolt being shot back froze them both.

“Lucy and Samuel,” Maddy whispered.

Reginald nodded and put a finger to his lips. He signaled her to follow him and crept to the doorway. Making sure Maddy was right behind him, Reginald strode hurriedly into the second room and stopped so abruptly Maddy ran straight into his back.

“Is it Lucy and Samuel?” She peered around him, screamed, and darted forward. “Pearl!”

“Mama!” A little girl, hair the color of corn silk, her face almost a replica of Maddy’s, stood at the top of the steps. The child started down the steps but was jerked back by a black-gloved hand. “Not so fast, poppet.”

At the venomous voice, Maddy stopped dead, her foot on the first step of the staircase.

Standing behind the child, Tommy Redmond raised a pistol, aiming it squarely at Maddy. “Don’t move, Amorina.”

Reginald’s heart stopped. His first instinct was to leap forward and shield her from the blackguard’s weapon. Fortunately, cold reason froze him where he stood. Redmond obviously wanted Maddy alive but would have no compunction whatsoever about killing Reginald. Dead, he’d be no use to her at all. Best to wait, assess the situation as it unfolded, and hope for an opportunity to overpower the scoundrel. Pray God such a chance presented itself before Redmond decided a dead magistrate would be much less trouble to him than a live one.