Chapter 13
13
Hearing Penny scream his name as she came apart broke loose a piece of shield shrouding Liam’s soul. His heart cracked as his body tightened.
Stunning.
Her perfectly shaped breasts, tipped with coral nipples he was desperate to touch, thrust upward as she arched against his mouth. Her taste was addicting, a drug far more dangerous to him than the poppy’s nectar. He gave her no quarter, continuing to lick and suck until the climax overwhelmed Penny. She gripped his hair, pulling him away from her honeyed quim.
‘It’s too much…’ she panted, her hazel eyes gloriously unfocused.
Liam leaned back on his heels, his erection so painfully hard, he winced.
Thankfully, Penny was too lost in her own climax to notice his state of discomfort. ‘I had no idea… I thought a man and a woman must…’ She patted her hands together in a slow clap, mimicking two bodies coming together, Liam supposed. He did his best not to be charmed by her innocence. ‘But that wasn’t at all…’ She clapped her hands together again.
‘And there is no chance of pregnancy.’
Penny cleared her throat. ‘Yes of course… because in order for a woman to become pregnant, a man would obviously have to…’ Trailing off, she shifted her gaze away from his to look at the fire. ‘I mean, everyone knows they would need to…’ She bit her lip, her fingers fiddling with the little wooden button on her still-open dress. Realising her state of dishabille, she hastily tucked her pretty breasts back into her chemise and quickly buttoned the top.
Liam’s cock twitched in disappointment before he brought his mind back to their discussion.
She didn’t know. And why would she? This wasn’t an appropriate topic of discussion for the gentler sex. Which was ridiculous. A woman should at least be informed on how one might become pregnant and what could be done to avoid such a life-altering condition. Not an easy thing to do when women were deemed too delicate to understand the details.
‘Yes, exactly. In order for a woman to fall pregnant, the man would have to release his seed. Inside her.’
Penny’s cheeks darkened in a blush, and she blinked several times. ‘R-right. And he would do that by…’
‘Penetrating her. With his cock. Repeatedly, until the man climaxes.’
Emitting a strangled sort of sound, she swallowed. ‘Yes. His… right, well. Exactly so.’ Flipping her skirts down, she pushed to her feet unsteadily.
Liam followed her lead, standing as well and catching her hand in his before she could escape. ‘If that is something you are curious about, there are ways to limit the chances of pregnancy. Even with penetration. But there would always be a risk.’
Her hazel eyes narrowed. ‘Really?’
‘I’m sure you are aware of French letters.’
She glanced over his shoulder. ‘Perhaps I know it as a different name. You mean a…’
‘Sheath. That a man wears over his cock. It prevents his seed from entering a woman.’
Penny’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ as she inhaled sharply. ‘A-and, you would be willing to procure one of these… I mean, if I was interested in…’
Liam fought the laughter. The last thing he wished to do was further embarrass Penny. ‘I would. If you ever wanted to explore that area of intimacy. But as I said, there is still a risk of pregnancy. Though much smaller. And pleasure can be found in so many other ways.’
‘Other than what you did with your, er, mouth?’ Liam nodded slowly in reply. ‘Or we could do that again? I mean, if you wanted, or I wanted to…’
My God, she is marvellous.
‘You would only need to ask, Penny. One taste of you, and I will always crave more.’
Her gaze flicked to his mouth and Liam’s beast almost broke the chain of control he held so tightly.
‘Yes, well. It is late.’ Penny pulled her hand from his grasp and stepped back. She was looking at the carpet again. ‘I must go. I have to be up early to help with the decorations. Mrs Harding will be expecting me to be, um, well rested.’ Ducking a hasty curtsy, he nearly missed her next words. ‘Thank you.’ She turned to go. ‘I mean, er, goodnight, my lord.’
An idea struck, spontaneous and stunning. ‘Penny, there is one more thing.’
She turned slightly, presenting him with her profile. Her nose tipped up like a pixie’s. ‘Yes, my lord?’
This is stupid. Absolutely idiotic. There’s no way she’ll agree.
But dear God. An image of Penny standing beside him on the ballroom floor, the entire fucking beau monde dancing around them with no idea she was a maid, and he was a marquess. Just two masked people swirling in a sea of silk and secrets to the strains of a stringed quartet.
‘At the risk of earning another set down from my maid on the points of propriety I seem so determined to ignore, I have a proposition for you.’ He held his breath. This was a momentous risk he was taking, and it could explode in his face. Horribly. Or it could fire like a rocket into the sky in a shower of beautiful sparks. With Penny, he couldn’t predict the outcome.
She turned around fully, her hands on her hips. Definitely not a good sign. ‘What kind of proposition?’
Liam quirked his lips in what he hoped was a charming smile. ‘More of an invitation, actually. I informed Mrs Harding I hired servants for the ball. With the amount of work the staff have undertaken, I want them to enjoy their evening as much as the titled lords and ladies attending the masque.’
Penny’s mouth dropped. ‘That is beyond generous, my lord. The expense you must have gone to…’
Liam shrugged. ‘As I said before, my finances are excessive. And I believe a domestic staff who is treated well is much more likely to remain loyal to their employer, stay longer, work harder. It benefits all of us.’
Penny shook her head, her face a mask of bewilderment. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Well, it would seem my generous gesture has created an opportunity for something far more selfish.’
When she drew her brows together, a line formed between them. He wanted to press his finger just there and smooth away her suspicions. ‘I wish you to attend this masque. Not as a servant. Not clearing glasses or serving treats on a silver tray. But as an equal to the other lords and ladies in attendance.’ There . He’d said it. For better or worse, he’d taken a wild idea and put it in front of her like a feral kitten as likely to scratch and claw as cuddle and purr.
Penny’s shaking hand lifted to cover her mouth. She turned to the fire, then back to Liam. Her beautiful hazel eyes misted with tears.
Oh, fuck. I’ve made a terrible mistake.
‘You can’t be serious,’ she breathed.
Liam rushed ahead with his mad plan. ‘You can tell Mrs Harding you aren’t feeling well. Go upstairs to your room. I’m sure Molly will cover for you.’
‘You know the name of your laundry maid?’
‘Molly? Of course I do. Sweet girl, although terribly prone to tears, isn’t she?’
‘Only when you are around.’
Liam had no idea what to make of that. ‘Err. Yes. Well. At any rate. I shall buy you a dress. And a mask. There’s not much time, but with enough coin, anything is possible.’
Penny’s creamy skin paled to nearly white. ‘You’ve gone mad.’
Liam continued as it was too late now to turn back. ‘Dreadfully serious, I’m afraid. With all the servants enjoying their own revelries below, and your face hidden. No one would know. You would just be another lady of the beau monde enjoying a masked ball.’
‘Why?’
It was a simple question. With a very complicated answer.
Because watching you fall apart was the singular most erotic experience of my life. Because you make me forget, and you make me remember. Because for just one moment, I want to know what it feels like to hold you in my arms in front of the whole world, as if I have the right. As if we belong together. As if you are for me, and I am for you, and the rest doesn’t matter.
‘Because I want to dance with you, Penny.’ Not the total truth, but all he could admit. ‘On the ballroom floor. In front of the entire beau monde. I want to hold you in my arms and swirl you around with the music playing and look into your eyes and finally enjoy myself at one of these bloody things. Is that too much to ask?’
‘Yes. It is.’
The risk exploded in his face, shattering the fragile fantasy he’d conjured.
Liam looked at his feet because he couldn’t bear to see her face harden against him. ‘Ah. Well.’
Stupid fool of a man with a silly idea.
She moved forward, her tears evaporating in the heat of her temper. ‘Don’t you understand? You’re asking too much.’
‘I’m only asking you to dance. With me.’
Penny shook her head. ‘No. You aren’t. You’re asking me to risk all I’ve worked for. If I were discovered… I would lose everything. I could be thrown in prison for such a breach of conduct, or worse. A maid does not impersonate a lady. Society would never forgive such a transgression.’
The fire of her anger leaped over the distance between them and sparked Liam’s ire. ‘You deserve a night of revelry. I watch you work from dawn until well past dusk for a pittance and I hate it. Just once, I want you to feel as pampered and precious as these silly women who haven’t experienced an ounce of hardship.’
‘Life doesn’t work that way, Liam. Those ladies you so badly want me to emulate would never allow it.’
‘Well, I allow it. And I would defend you to the death should anyone threaten you. For any reason, and most especially for a reason as ridiculous as this. What difference is there between you and Lady Drake? Nothing except the circumstances of your birth. The Queen creates titles for her favoured citizens who have no more claim to it than you, or Molly, or Mrs Harding. What value is there in a baron, marquess or duke besides that which the beau monde decrees?’
‘You are trying to have a philosophical debate. I am being realistic, my lord. Society operates on rules that we all agree to follow. Our hierarchy is one of those rules.’
‘Well, it’s a stupid rule.’ Liam wanted to kick something. The wall looked like a worthy target. ‘You are more deserving of a night of frivolous pleasure than any ridiculous lord or lady of the beau monde.’
Penny’s lips twitched, but she didn’t grace him with her smile. ‘Perhaps. But unlike a certain marquess I know with excessive finances, I can’t afford to break the rules. The risk of defying the lords and ladies of the Queen’s court, even if they are ridiculous, is too great.’
Liam forced a dry laugh. ‘I thought you fearless, Penny.’
‘Only when fighting blackguards in dark alleys. Under the glittering candlelight of a ballroom? In front of the entire beau monde? I’m a total meater.’
Meeting her gaze, Liam saw the fear glimmering there. Such a foreign emotion from his fierce maid. ‘No. You are many things, but never a coward.’
‘I am.’ Liam hated the defeat in her voice. ‘Don’t you see? It’s impossible. I can’t even dance. I would take one step on that ballroom floor, and everyone would know I don’t belong. My domain is below-stairs. Yours is above. I scrub the floor. I don’t dance upon it.’
You belong next to me.
He was the coward. Because he wasn’t brave enough to say the words aloud. No matter how powerfully his heart beat for Penny, how constant she was in his thoughts, how desperately he wanted her. Not just in his bed, but in his life.
‘You can dance upon my feet.’ He took a step closer, catching her hand in his and squeezing her fingers. ‘I don’t think you are afraid of discovery. I think you fear yourself. You fear acknowledging your own worth in front of so many who are above you in station and below you in value. You told me once your ideas are worthy, but you don’t believe you are worthy. And that is a lie.’
‘What do you know about lies, Liam?’
‘More than I wish to admit. But I also know something about truth. And valour. And courage. And I know you hold all of these values, Penny. This is a risk for you, yes. But trust me, I have been to a million masques. The lords and ladies will be so deep in their cups, so determined to toss aside their inhibitions because they believe their masks somehow grant them anonymity, they won’t notice anything beyond their own revelries.’ It was possible. He knew it.
She inhaled, holding her breath and Liam wanted to shout in triumph. A clear sign she was considering his proposal. Perhaps she just needed some time. He could give her that.
He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against her temple, not above using his physical appeal to sway her. ‘The ball is two nights hence. A dress will be waiting in the marchioness’ suite. If you change your mind, all you need do is slip into the room, put on the dress, and join me below. If you don’t, I understand. But never doubt. You are brave, and strong, and so very worthy of everything this world has to offer, including whatever you wish to take from me.’
Penny returned his hand squeeze. ‘You are far more convincing than any man should be. But I am very good at saying no, my lord.’
‘Just don’t say no to yourself.’
Penny pulled her hand free, stepped back, and ducked in a terrible curtsy. ‘Goodnight, my lord.’ She spun and walked quickly to the door.
Liam’s heart thumped hard in his chest. ‘Goodnight, my Penny.’ But she was already gone, her quiet footsteps barely marking her swift progress down the hall.
Liam had seen the ravages of addiction destroy both his father and his brothers. Reynard battled numerous habits including wine, women, and gambling. But it was his love of power that led to his ultimate demise. Theodore used addiction to numb his pain. And their father’s weakness was cruelty. He fed on a daily diet of brutality, just as dependent on other people’s suffering as a glutton was on sweet buns. Liam knew such weakness infused his blood, but never had he wrestled with the helpless need plaguing his kin. Until he tasted Penny. He would spend the rest of his days chasing her flavour. Craving her scream of passion. Drowning in her wet, soft heat.
He heard opium addicts could become addicted after one sip of laudanum. Opium-laced gin created a hunger impossible to sate. Liam had never understood how that was possible. Until now.
One taste of Penny.
And I’m addicted for the rest of my days.
If there was a cure, Liam wasn’t sure he wanted to find it.
Penny was precariously balanced on a chair, helping to hang swathes of cream and peach silk onto the walls of the front sitting room when Coggins slithered in, making a beeline for her. She was helping to convert the receiving room into a ladies’ waiting area. The heavy furniture had been replaced with delicate chairs. Full-length mirrors hung on the interior walls providing women ample reflective surfaces and making the space appear much larger. Vanity desks were placed strategically throughout and a screened area against a corner was erected to provide privacy for women who might need to make repairs to their dresses. The transformation of Liam’s serious, somewhat masculine sitting room into an ethereal haven for ladies needing a respite from the ball was astonishing. With the masque nearly upon them, the staff raced hither and thither on this final day of preparation to ensure all was ready on the morrow. Liam’s wild gamble of hiring outside service so his staff could have the night off had paid in large dividends. Never in her years of service had Penny seen a group of servants pull together and work so furiously to please their lord.
‘Miss Smith. Your presence is required.’ Coggins looked like he had just sucked a lemon. Not a good sign.
‘Is anything amiss, sir?’
Coggins’ only reply was a curl of his lip, like a dog snarling before snapping sharp teeth. ‘Follow me.’
Penny handed her silk burden off to Molly, who was given a reprieve from laundry duties to help with decorations. Jumping carefully off the chair – grateful that her ankle was healing after judiciously applied ice the night before – Penny made haste to catch Coggins, who strode out of the room, down the hall, and into Liam’s study.
Dear lord. What has Liam done now? Interrupting my work and having Coggins escort me to his study? Does he wish me to be ousted from his staff?
Preparing herself to face off against her employer, Penny froze in shock upon entering the study.
Liam was not present.
Lady Millicent Drake and her dear friend Miss Ivy Cavendale sat together on the leather settee. A petite young woman Penny hadn’t met before but knew by reputation sat next to them. The infamous Hannah Simmons. A lowly ward who married the Duke of Covington. Quite the scandal.
Tea and biscuits sat on the low table in front of the ladies.
Upon Penny’s entrance, Millicent jumped up, shortbread crumbs spilling from her skirts. ‘Penny! How lovely to see you! Dear Lord, what on earth happened to your face?’
Coggins turned to her, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper only Penny could hear. ‘You have one hour. Not a moment more.’
Liam must have ordered Coggins to fetch her and issued the command for her to have an hour’s reprieve. Coggins’ cold tone left no doubt as to his opinion on the matter. A maid did not receive callers. Certainly not when her services were required in readying the house for a grand masque. And never in a room above-stairs with tea and tarts, as if she were a person of prestige and not just the below-stairs staff. But Coggins could hardly defy his lordship.
Penny bit her lip to stop the smile. Coggins’ skin was flushed, his lips pressed in a tight line. He looked ready to explode, and likely would do just that once her visitors left. The thought sobered her. Penny doubted she would get her mid-morning meal, or her supper break.
Not much I can do about that. I suppose I should enjoy this as I’ll be paying for it later regardless.
She tipped her chin up and nodded at him as if she were just as fine a lady as the three watching them so intently. Her future punishment was worth seeing Coggins sputter.
Oh dear.
If Coggins disliked her before, he hated her now. He was practically seething, clearly struggling to maintain a neutral expression in front of the titled women.
‘That will be all, Coggins.’ Millicent easily dismissed the man, ignoring the flash of violence in his eyes as he pivoted on his heel and clipped out of the room.
Millicent rushed over, grabbing both hands in her own. Citrus and starch engulfed Penny, bringing with it a wave of nostalgia. She had missed Millicent.
‘Penny! When Philippa told us you found a position at Lieutenant General Renquist’s home, we had to come visit.’
Penny shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘We are friends, are we not? I wanted to come and make sure you are settled here. That you are well and happy.’ Millicent cocked her head to get a better look at Penny’s cheek. ‘And by the looks of things, we should have come much sooner. Who hit you? If it was the marquess, we’ll take care of him before leaving today.’
Penny emitted a strangled squeak, too overwhelmed to create a convincing lie. ‘Some idiot brutes attacked me while I was out walking. Lord Renquist saw and intervened.’
Millicent gave a sly glance to the other ladies. ‘Did he? Well, it seems your mother’s salve is working as well for you as it did for me. That’s healing nicely.’
‘I’ve found arnica oil to be helpful with bruises.’ The Duchess of Covington was petite, beautiful, and quite frightening. Penny didn’t miss the crescent scar on the woman’s cheek, or her sharp, assessing gaze. She reminded Penny of Philippa, carrying the same hint of danger about her. ‘I shall send some to you directly. Sit and eat something. We have much to discuss.’
Penny, so used to following orders, straightened her back and thrust out her chin. Something about the woman’s tone got her back up. Lady Killian was testing her. Showing weakness would not be wise. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so glad to see you Lady Drake, but I’m not sure why you are here. I’m a maid. Ladies do not make calls upon their past domestics. And as you can see, there is much work to be done here to ready for the masque tomorrow. I should leave.’
Letting go of Millicent’s grip, she moved a step backward, closer to the door.
Miss Ivy Cavendale stood and walked to Penny’s other side, hemming her in between herself and Millicent. Penny couldn’t help noticing the woman’s slight figure – almost as lean as a young lad’s – was also lithe. She looked stronger than the last time she’d seen Ivy. Her blonde hair and pale skin gave her the look of a haunted fairy. ‘Please, Miss Smith. You have an hour’s reprieve from your labours. As Hannah said, we have important matters to discuss with you and there are far too many biscuits for the three of us. Stay.’ Her command was far gentler than Lady Killian’s but just as demanding.
Penny exhaled and then nodded. Millicent moved aside so Penny could sit in the wingback chair opposite the leather settee. Hesitating, she leaned forward and took one of the lemon tarts from the tray. The buttery crust crumbled against her lips as the tart lemon curd burst on her tongue.
‘Your cook is quite good,’ Millicent said, smiling as she took a miniature iced cake and popped it in her mouth.
‘Yes, but we aren’t here to discuss pastries. We have a proposition for you.’ Lady Killian leaned forward, her eyes sparking with purpose.
Penny swallowed the tart. ‘Me? Is it an offer of employment? Because I am quite happy here.’
Lady Killian smiled, her gaze flitting from Ivy to Millicent. ‘You could construe it as such, though you wouldn’t need to end your time here. At least, not immediately.’
‘I must say, you are being awfully mysterious, Lady Killian.’
‘Call me Hannah. You’ll find we are much like Philippa in our dislike of titles.’
Penny just nodded, not ready to make such a drastic violation of manners.
Millicent licked icing from her finger, her hand hovering over another tea cake before she thought better of it and sat back. ‘Penny, you know a little about my work with Philippa and the Queen from your time as my lady’s maid. What we are proposing is that you join us. Philippa is willing to train you. She has been looking for someone in your, er, domestic position, to help with a current investigation.’
Penny straightened in her chair, her spine growing rigid. ‘Does this investigation include Lord Renquist?’
Millie looked away. Hannah tipped her chin down slightly. Ivy fiddled with the lace on her sleeve.
I knew it! We are investigating the same man!
This confirmation did not bode well for Liam’s innocence.
But neither does it ensure his guilt. Even the Queen can be wrong sometimes.
The lemon tart curdled in her belly. Why would she wish for his innocence? That meant no reward money. No way to get her mother out of prison.
No reason for him to remain my enemy.
Pulling her thoughts back to the conversation, Penny frowned. These women had information about Liam. Information that might help her if she wasn’t so lost in her own thoughts to ask the right questions. ‘Why is the Queen focused on Li… err… Lord Renquist?’
Drat!
There was no point hoping the women missed her slip. They were all far too intelligent. Hannah raised an eyebrow, Millicent’s lips curled in a knowing smile, and Ivy’s pale skin blushed an alarming crimson.
‘That is not information we can share. Unless you join us in our mission, of course.’ Hannah stood and slipped her hand into a cleverly hidden pocket in her skirt. ‘Penny, we are pursuing very powerful, very dangerous men targeting maids. I won’t lie that by joining us, you won’t be putting yourself at risk. But you will be doing so to save countless innocent girls.’
Penny wanted desperately to confess their shared goal. But while she knew Millie and wanted to trust her, Hannah and Ivy were near strangers to Penny. And her own mission was far too important to risk. Even for the Queen. She owed her loyalty to Constable Sweet, and more importantly, to her mother.
What would become of the reward money if she switched allegiance? Would the Queen be willing to compensate Penny with coin? She certainly had the wealth to spare, but a monarch expected obedience from her subjects, not trading services for something as vulgar as currency. An opinion only the very rich could afford to hold. These women need not worry about payment for their work. Penny did not have that luxury.
She stood as well, prompting Millie and Ivy to rise. ‘I wish you the best of luck in finding these men. But I cannot help you. I’m sorry.’ It was the truth. To join Millicent, Ivy and Hannah, share a camaraderie with such courageous, fearsome ladies, would be a dream. But she was just as far from their sphere as she was from Liam’s. She had her own path to walk, and it was one she must walk alone. ‘Allow me to show you out.’
Leading them to the entryway, she asked a footman to retrieve their coats.
‘Are you sure you won’t reconsider?’ Hannah kept her hands in her pockets.
Penny shook her head. ‘If my circumstances were different, I might. But I am just a maid, Your Grace. Hardly able to stand with ladies such as yourselves.’
Ivy smiled and shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Miss Smith. I think you might be surprised how similar we are when it comes down to what matters. Heart. Courage. Honour.’ Her words echoed Liam’s from the night before and Penny shifted uncomfortably.
Before she could reply, the footman returned and the ladies donned their coats. He opened the door and Hannah and Ivy descended to the waiting carriage, but Millie lingered.
‘You’re up to something, Penny. I know it. If you ever need any help, I’m here. I don’t care if you are a maid or a marchioness; you will always be my friend.’
Penny’s ears grew warm, and she knew a blush stained her cheeks. ‘I shall never be a marchioness, Millicent.’
‘You don’t know that. Hannah was a ward before she became a duchess. I was going to be married to a mouldering man older than my father before I convinced Drake to compromise and then marry me. Never underestimate the power of a determined woman to alter her stars, Penny.’
Penny smiled despite herself. Even thinking of becoming a marchioness, Liam’s marchioness, was madness. But it was a lovely fantasy. ‘I don’t deserve a friend like you, Millicent.’
‘You deserve far more than you know. You just need to be bold enough to claim it. We only live once. We might as well fight for what we want.’ Millicent pressed a kiss against Penny’s cheek before rushing down the stairs after her friends.
Fight for what I want. But what do I want? A marquess who might be guilty of horrendous crimes? A haven for my mother at the cost of Liam’s freedom? A life free from scrubbing floors and serving tarts I’m never allowed to taste?
‘Miss Smith.’ Coggins stormed over the marble floor, stopping next to her. ‘You may go.’ He coldly dismissed the footman without even looking at him. The liveried man clenched his jaw, nodded, then walked away.
‘Yes, Mr Coggins?’
‘What in the devil were those women doing here, wanting to speak with you?’ He leaned closer to her, the words hissing from his mouth.
‘Lady Drake was enquiring as to my happiness here, sir.’
Coggins eyes narrowed. He didn’t believe her. Which was fair. She wasn’t telling him the whole truth. ‘You are lying. An earl’s wife doesn’t care about someone as insignificant as you.’ He snatched her wrist, pulling her close enough for her to see the blood vessels snaking across the whites of his eyes. ‘You’re up to something. And when I find out, I will make sure you never work in service again.’ Coggins and Millicent delivered a similar message in very incongruent ways.
Penny pulled free of his grip. ‘I would be careful who you threaten, Mr Coggins. I’ve faced far more terrifying enemies than you and won.’
She spun and walked to the sitting room where her work waited. His malevolent stare burned into her back every step she took.