Page 42 of Saving a Scoundrel
“This is my good friend, Miss Spencer. She and I were together when Tom found us. She’s good.”
The giant man rolled his eyes but stepped back to allow them to enter. Ellie scooted past him carefully. She gripped Lucius’s arm. “He is rather intimidating,” she whispered.
“That’s his job.” Lucius patted her arm.
They walked through the entryway and into an enormous room filled with tables. Giant crystal chandeliers hung from the tall ceilings, and along one wall was a long bar with tall stools turned upside down on its long wooden top. Green silk wallcovering stamped with a gold leaf pattern draped the room. The wood chairs were painted gold, and the window coverings were a rich dark gold as well. With one hand gripping hers, Lucius led her quickly through the maze of tables. Ellie tried to observe every detail of the glamorous room before they reached the back corner, where two large doors marked an entry to another part of the building. “Why are the tables covered in felt?”
Lucius paused. “They are tables for dice games.”
“People bet on the roll of dice? But the odds of guessing the correct number would be terrible.” She always thought of gaming hells as sophisticated places where people played card games requiring wit and trickery.
“Yes, terrible odds. But gamblers enjoy the element of chance. They are strong believers in luck. Come on. I’m going to have you wait for me in my office. You’ll be safe there.”
“Don’t you live here? Can’t I wait in your rooms?”
“Absolutely not.” His gripped tightened, and they went through the doors and down a long dim hallway. Lucius opened the fourth door on the left and ushered her into a small office. A large window looked out to what appeared to be the back alley of the building. A desk sat on one side and tucked into a corner of the other side an oversized chaise in the ugliest color she’d ever seen. Not quite green, not quite yellow. Tufted in velvet, it appeared a bit lumpy in parts.
“Now stay here. I hope that this business won’t take long. Again, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Lucius. Go and see what your boss wants. Leave me the letters. I’ll just sit here on this monstrosity of a divan and read a bit.”
His lips quirked up at her description, but the tightness around his eyes remained. He pulled out the letters and passed them to her. “I will be back as soon as I can. Don’t leave the room.” Then he strode out, closing the door behind him.
Ellie shrugged. He seemed very serious all of a sudden. What happened to the Lucius she was used to, the one that whistled and called her kitten? She eyed the divan. It was enormous. But it was right near the window where the light would be best for reading. Ellie sat gingerly on the edge of the stuffed chaise. A lump poked her right in the bum.
She scooted back until she could lean against the back. But then her feet and calves hung off the edge uncomfortably, so she swung them around and ended up lounging one arm resting across the back, with her legs curled up. She giggled, feeling like one of those Greek paintings where the goddess lays on the couch getting fed grapes by some handsome centurion.
Spreading the letters out in a row in front of her, she examined them carefully. Similar to the other letters they had found in Marbury, these had the address page torn off. It was clear the lady had been careful to hide the identity of her lover. She ran her fingers over the worn edges of one letter. It was as though they had been folded and unfolded many times. Each one began withMy dearest loveand ended withAlways J. But never was there a date written the corner, so the age of the letters was still a mystery.
She picked up one at random and read. The florid prose and over-the-top sentimentality made her sigh. She did not know a single man in real life that could express his feelings so eloquently and without an ounce of sarcasm. Was it because he was a writer? Really more of a poet.
She selected another letter and lost herself in the fantasy of the relationship narrated on the page. The letters jumped through the timeline of the couple’s affair. The ones they found last year had described a time the couple spent at the seaside in the summer, the time when they had seen each other in London, and one letter where he had beseeched her to answer since he hadn’t heard from him his love in several months.
Ellie picked up another. Her eyebrows rose at the first line.
My dearest love,
Your letter arrived and the words you wrote both soothed and enflamed me. I too miss our stolen time together at my aunt’s house by the sea. The freedom we had there away from society was a precious gift. Your words of love are a balm to my soul. My love, I wish I could be lying next to you so I could ease the ache you spoke of, for it mirrors mine. I spend my nights, my hand on my cock, dreaming of the curves and valley of your body. I wish to run my hands up your long legs and lose myself in the dark curls at your center. To hear your moans of ecstasy as I lap up your desire. Oh, to have you in my arms again! You are my heart, the center of my soul, and the goddess of all my desires. Perhaps the heat here in August has enflamed my dreams, but as long as they feature you, I will cherish each one. Do something for me, my love. I want you to think of me when you lay in bed and ease that sweet ache between your thighs. Know that I will conceive of some way for us to be together soon.
Always J
Goodness! Ellie felt the heat rise in her cheeks and spread across her chest. She scanned the letter again. This clearly took place right after their affair started at the seaside. His words were wicked and loving all at once. She chewed on her lower lip. What did he mean byI lap up your desire? Was it a euphemism for something? Something to do with the lady’s most intimate parts. And speaking of intimate parts, that word he used,cock, what a deliciously naughty word.
Ellie had never had anybody to explain things that happened between a man and woman in the bedchamber. But she and Charlotte had found a book of very naughty artwork once in the bookshop. The drawings had been cartoonish, and no doubt, the proportions of the body parts exaggerated. She and Charlotte had giggled as they flipped through it.
Ellie leaned over, rested her chin on one arm, and stared out the window. How would she ever seduce a man like Lucius when she knew next to nothing about bedsport? Unfortunately, neither Charlotte nor Olivia was in town to answer her questions. And besides, asking one’s friend advice on how to seduce their brother certainly must be bad form.
Her thoughts kept circling back to the phraselapping up your desire. What did that mean? Would a man use his tongue on a lady’s intimate parts? Would it feel as good as when she touched herself between her legs? Her imagination caught fire. She lay in her bed; her nightgown pushed up to her hips and Lucius’s blond head between her legs. His broad shoulders kept her legs spread, and his hands ran up her thighs. She bit down on her lower lip at the fantasy. Heat pooled at her core.
The door opened. Startled, she swiveled to see who it was. Lucius strode into the room. “Daydreaming?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lucius watched Ellie’scheeks stain pink. He hadn’t been teasing when he said he could write a treatise about her blushes. Her porcelain skin revealed her emotions if one paid attention, from pale pink blushes of embarrassment to the red stain when she was angry. But this one was different. She looked flushed not just across her high cheekbones but all the way up to her hairline and across her cleavage. She twisted from the window. Her eyes were wide; the pupils dilated almost as though she was flushed with desire? No, he imagined things.
“Lucius!” She struggled to sit up properly, arranging her skirts so she could swing her legs forward.
He crossed the room and took a seat next to her. The letters lay spread out next to her. “Interesting? Any clues?”
