Page 61 of Love with a Notorious Rake

Breathing hard, they broke apart.

“Where is Middlemiss?” Aidan asked, looking about.

“Upstairs in his room. He promised not to disturb us.”

Aidan stroked her flushed cheek with the back of his fingers. “He informed me he is not interested in you romantically.”

“Believe me, he truly isn’t. Shall we sit?”

He touched her forehead with his own. “The last damned thing I want to do is talk. I am selfish to the core, for I want nothing more than to lay you across this desk, lift your skirts, and lick and taste you until you scream out my name.”

Oh. “How deliciously naughty. Have you done that with other women?”

“Too many to count.” Aidan laid hot kisses along her neck. “I have a bad reputation; you might as well know it now.”

“Will you tell me of your past?” She took his hand and led him to the small settee on the opposite side of the room. Once they were seated, they turned slightly to face each other.

“My decline came over a number of years. You saw me at rock bottom. Even after all this time, I cannot quite puzzle out how it happened. Or why. I was rich, selfish, eager to experience all life had to offer. I make no excuses. I accept my failures. All I wanted was the next thrill, and it consisted of seedy venues and disreputable companions of both sexes. Until I disappeared, lost in the morass of utter depravity. Uncle Garrett and Mr. Seward located me and brought me to the sanatorium. I do not remember much of my last month, but I remember enough to be horrified and ashamed.”

His sober words touched her heart, for she had seen the result. “The circle of burns on your back. What happened?”

“You will leave me with nothing?”

“I want to understand. Is it something to do with the man that showed up at the sanatorium? The brute who wielded a knife?”

Aidan’s eyebrow arched. “You witnessed that?”

She nodded. “For a few minutes, he yelled at my father and me to leave.”

“Ah,” Aidan murmured. “I remember. Yes, it had to do with the brute. It is not a pretty story. But before I reveal that particular mess, I need to finish telling you about my family. The Wollstonecrafts do live in Kent; my uncle does breed horses. I told you of my brother, Riordan. He married last autumn and his wife, Sabrina, is expecting a baby in a matter of weeks. My father is a Member of Parliament. My grandfather is in the House of Lords.”

Cristyn blinked. “Lords? Then he is a member of the peerage? Which makes you, what exactly? Are you the older brother?”

Aidan nodded.

My God. He was the heir. An aristocrat, though his posh accent should have been a clue. She merely thought it a result of his wealth and education. Her conversation with Paris pushed to the front of her mind, and what he’d said about his lover. Heirs to the aristocracy are strange creatures. They are born, weaned, and raised on a steady diet of honor and duty. When it comes down to it, no matter the utterances and assurances of love and devotion, they will choose duty and family.

What would an heir of the peerage want with the daughter of a Welsh country doctor? Except for a dalliance? An affair? A mistress? She gulped deeply. “And your grandfather is what, exactly?”

“An earl.”

“I had no idea. You are Lord Wollstonecraft. Isn’t that how the heir apparent is referred to?” she whispered.

“It’s a courtesy, it means nothing. In fact, I often insist that it not be used, for it makes me uncomfortable.” His mouth quirked sardonically. “I sign my letters to my brother ‘Lord Nothing.’ And I have been that for far too long. It’s why I’m here. I wish to remedy my past mistakes.”

Good God, a lord. Her mind was swimming to such an extent she couldn’t form a response to his Lord Nothing remark. “I knew you were rich, but part of the aristocracy? This changes…well, everything.” She frowned and shook her head.

“In what way?” Aidan demanded.

“How can there be anything of permanence?” Cristyn rubbed her forehead. “I am getting ahead of myself, for when has either of us mentioned a lasting relationship? Though we’ve been acquainted for months, what do we really know about each other? Why use the false name?”

“It was Garrett who gave the name of Black; I went along with it. I understood his way of thinking. Protect the family. Protect me. In light of the gossip, it was a wise move.”

“Gossip?”

“Before my disappearance, I was called a notorious rake. Scandalous affairs. Dissolute company. Sinful parties. Indulgences of all sorts. I told you, I am not a nice man.” He crossed his arms and frowned. “The burns on my back? Done by an aristocrat who wanted to inflict pain, not only on me, but my family.” Aidan told her of the Marquess of Sutherhorne and his intense hatred for the family, his kidnapping of his brother’s wife, the shooting of his uncle, and the gossip he’d spread.

Cristyn gasped. “That is terrible.”