Page 19 of Surrender to Sin

“Sebastian now, is it?” said Nell with raised eyebrows. “My, my.”

“Oh hush up. Anyway, he told me half the Carlton House set were there and galloping the news to the four corners of the Gardens and beyond, so it is impossible for Lord Baxter not to have heard. I’m going to send Sebastian a note. Ask him to meet me at the fundraiser.”

Nell nodded as she sank into an unhappy heap on Grace’s bed. “I think that is a good idea. You may need a friend later, especially with the bishop and your stepmother firmly on the side of Lord Baxter.”

Anger flared again, the foot-stomping, vase-hurling kind, and her fingers clenched around her small jewelry box. She’d asked for two weeks. Just fourteen nights on her own, and her father had again broken a sworn promise, bursting in with vile Edwina in tow. “No need to remind me. I just hope Sebastian doesn’t have a prior engagement.”

“Indeed. Oh, Lady C, although I truly hope the Vauxhall outing worked, I’m sad you never got to try out some other toys. Or see the pirate room…”

Grace’s shoulders slumped. “You and me both.”

Several hours later, she strolled into the parlor of a stately wood and stone London townhouse. Lord Baxter’s grip on her elbow was more gaoler than fiancé. In her heeled slippers she was an inch taller than him, and despite the fact she wore a high-necked gray silk gown adorned with a single, discreet cameo, and her hair in the terrible bun, the wretched man had still tightened his lips and insisted she showed more flesh than appropriate for a respectable lady. Only already running late had prevented him imposing his preference for a complete change in clothing.

“Ah, Lord Baxter! You are most welcome,” chirped a plump matron clad entirely and rather unfortunately in orange satin. “And who is this fetching…why, it’s Lady Carrington. My dear, I’m so relieved to see you two together! Miles returned from his club late last night with the most frightful tale…but here you are, and his lordship in escort with all proper devotion. How wonderful!”

“Lady Miles,” Lord Baxter chided coldly. “A refined female pays no heed to the idle gossip of curs and whores. Your husband is most lax in his instruction.”

Their hostess drooped. “You are right, my lord. I do beg your pardon. Oh, Lady Carrington, how fortunate you are to have gained the affection of a man such as Lord Baxter. So proper. So righteous. I enjoyed tremendously his most recent speech on the evils of lowborn women, the vulgar, shameless harlots who dare put pen to paper and call it writing, who shelter runaways and orphans, who put the world in disorder when they marry above their station. I was truly, truly inspired. Did you hear it?”

Grace swallowed hard, lest the scream building in her throat unleash itself. “Ah, no. No I have not, Lady Miles. May we sit anywhere in the parlor? I should like to find enough room for my father and stepmother also.”

“Bishop Lloyd-Gates is here?” said Lady Miles with a gasp. “Oh gracious me. Gracious me! We are twice fortunate. I must share the good news. Do excuse me, and please, take the seats in the first or second row so I might point you all out. The committee will be in transports. Transports!”

As their hostess bustled away, Grace gritted her teeth and forced a smile upon her face. “I wonder how fundraising is progressing for the church roof.”

Lord Baxter gave her a small but approving smile. “Very well. I’m going to present the committee with a draft for three hundred pounds this evening. That will take them over and above the remaining amount they needed to restore the building to its former glory.”

“Most generous of you, my lord.”

“Lady Carrington,” he replied, his grip tightening further even as one thumb traced a brief circle on the soft skin of her upper arm. “Grace, if I may. I am a generous man. To a quiet, decorous, obedient wife, a true lady who knows her place and endures marital relations without complaint, I would be a very generous husband.”

Nausea churned. “Oh. I, er—”

“Carrington’s earldom was laughably new. His lineage weak, diluted with commoners. But our ancient bloodlines together will breed sons to own the country and clergy. Pretty daughters groomed for the palaces of England and Europe. Each time you were brought to childbed, I’d reward you with tasteful trinkets and jewelry. You’ll have all a woman needs.”

One more word and she was going to be violently ill.

“Please excuse me, my lord,” she choked out, twisting her arm from his grasp and dipping into the shallowest of curtsys. “My stepmother is calling me over.”

Fleeing at a near-sprint, uncaring who might see her or what they might think, Grace dashed across the room then veered left and left again down a series of narrow, dark paneled hallways. These houses built in the time of King Henry VIII might be problematic when it came to light and space and ceiling repairs, but they were altogether wonderful when it came to getting oneself thoroughly lost—

The thought dissolved in a stark flash of terror, as a large, strong hand wrapped around her arm and dragged her into a darkened alcove. Struggling against the iron grip, Grace’s cry for help to rouse the entire city was reduced to nothing more than a muffled squeak when her captor’s other hand clamped over her mouth.

“Shhh, it’s me, darling,” whispered Sebastian in a rough voice so welcome, she turned and burrowed against his chest in sheer relief. “I came as soon as I got your note. Is it over and done with? Are you free?”

“No,” she said bitingly. “It seems Lord Baxter heard tales of my behavior from many sources last night, but chooses not to believe them as they come from the mouths of curs and whores.”

“Damn his bloody priggish hide. Well, I guess we’ll have to make it so he cannot help but see reason.”

“How?”

Sebastian smiled at her, a slow, rakish grin that hardened her nipples and caused her clit to throb. “Why, a depraved spectacle right under his nose, of course. If we moved to a more suitable, easily discovered location, do you think you could moan and scream for me loud enough to shake the very foundations of the Miles’s townhouse?”

“With you there is a strong likelihood of that,” Grace replied with a shiver of anticipation as she went up on tiptoes to brush his mouth with hers, and rub her aching pussy against his cock. “And here you are, helping me again. I…you’re the best of men.”

“Gracie, it is my pleasure. In all ways.”

…