What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(69)
“Touch me.”
She cupped him through his trousers. “Like this?”
He caught her hand, rose, and circled his finger. “Turn round so I can undo your fastenings and loosen the corset.”
“I didn’t give you leave to do it,” she said.
“You’ll be uncomfortable if I don’t.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Let me, so you can sleep.”
“I’m sleeping at Deerfield.”
“Angeline, listen to the pounding on the roof. We will not be able to leave tonight.”
“We have to leave.”
“Hush. Turn round, and I’ll unhook and untie you.”
“I cannot believe this,” she said, turning her back to him.
“Do not fret,” he said. “It can’t be helped.”
Her face grew hot anyway. She’d wanted to be worldly, but her limited experience showed.
He went to work on the fastenings, and then he helped her step out of her petticoat and skirts. The laces on her stays were trickier, but he managed to loosen them. Her head bowed as he pulled the stays over her head. She stood there a moment in her shift and stockings. He took her hand and walked with her to the bed. Then he pulled the pins from her hair.
“Colin, I can do it,” she said as her hair fell in waves over her breasts and shoulders.
He sifted his fingers through her locks. “You are even more beautiful with your hair down.”
She refused to let his compliment go to her head—well, maybe just a tiny bit.
“You’re quite skilled with lady’s clothing.”
“It’s cold,” he said, and assisted her into the bed.
He pulled the covers over her and kissed her lightly on the lips. Then he slipped his shirt on again. “I’m going to bank the fire in the drawing room, and then I’ll start one in here afterward.”
She thought about the way he’d stayed her hand earlier, but she’d loved touching him. Now she suspected that he would sleep in another room. Of course, that would be the virtuous choice for both of them, but she was worrying over something that would not happen. She released a frustrated sigh. Why did he have to be noble now?
It had to happen tonight.
Colin ascended the stairs and walked down the corridor to the slightly ajar door where she lay abed. There was no doubt about his reasons or his intentions. He would do anything to keep from losing Sommerall. He would take advantage of this one last opportunity for them to be alone. He leaned his forehead against the door. Damn it all to hell. She deserved better. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He feared this would be his only opportunity, and he couldn’t be certain she would agree to marry him.
The truth would only hurt her, and he wanted to avoid causing her unnecessary pain.
He meant to compromise her thoroughly, and then she would have no choice but to marry him. It was true that they were unofficially engaged, but they’d agreed that either one of them could end the secret engagement. It was clear to him that Faraday meant to purchase Sommerall, and he could not let it happen.
She would never know he’d planned it as long as he played the game with all of his considerable experience. The trick, of course, was to make it seem as if it were the result of unbridled passion. He had the sensual skills to seduce her, but his damned conscience plagued him.
He told himself she needed a husband in order to restore her reputation and help her family. It would not be a fairy-tale romance, but he could provide her with a home, security, and the chance to redeem her reputation. No one but him would ever know.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but if he didn’t do something, he would lose the property. He had just cause, but his damned conscience bothered him. She’d been through a terrible ordeal with her first engagement, but he had no intention of wounding her. He would make sure she never discovered the truth. She would benefit as much as he did. There was no reason for guilt, but his stomach clenched anyway.
He thrust away the remorse. She would be happier once she had the protection of his name. Seeing Faraday today, it had all become too real. Colin knew the man would make the purchase. He couldn’t let it happen. Sommerall was his birthright and his mother’s resting place.
Damn it all to hell. She deserved better. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. God willing she would never know the truth.
She clutched the covers and waited for Colin. It continued to rain, though not as hard as before. Angeline slid off the bed and walked to the window, but it was too dark to see anything. Foolishly, she’d wished he would kiss her again, but of course, she would rather melt in the rain than let him know she yearned for him.
A draft chilled her. She shut the drapes and returned to the bed. Even though she’d explored all the bedchambers at Sommerall, she felt restless all alone here. The blasted rain continued to pelt the windows and roof. She looked up at the dark canopy and wished Colin would hurry. It was too dark and silent, reminding her of all the nights she’d lain awake these two years past, despising herself for what she’d done to her family.
He’d expected her to be fast asleep when he entered the chamber, but she sat up and hugged her knees.
“You must be cold.” He poured the coals and managed to start a fledgling fire.
He applied the bellows and paused to look back at her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” He’d rather hoped she’d fallen asleep, because he was having second and third thoughts about his wicked intentions.