Chapter Fourteen

After Penelope fell asleep, Michael had pulled out some paperwork and waded through it, sorting it on the seat opposite as he worked. He did not want to fall too far behind.

They stopped for the night at a lovely inn that Penelope would never have chosen for the cost. He borrowed the Thorpes’ names and checked them in as a married couple so they could share a room. He had chosen the carriage without the family crest to better avoid being set upon by brigands, important given that Penelope was carrying cash. It also helped avoid questions from the innkeeper.

The proprietor, therefore, did not offer the usual private dining room he would to aristocracy, and Michael enjoyed watching the other patrons as they ate in a quiet corner of the public room.

They were only a few hours from Peterborough by that point, and he spent the morning carriage ride asking Penelope about the townspeople they were likely to run into. She described the Cathedral Square, the pubs, and businesses of her childhood. The city contained higher-end shops as well, given that it was a county seat for the earl, but she had not had occasion to venture into them.

Given her story of the four women in the house at the edge of town and having worked with Leah at the theatre, he looked forward to meeting the others. One aspect of being two days’ ride north of London that made this trip more relaxed for him was the leniency of societal rules. Here he could blithely consider meeting retired courtesans, having dinner with a blacksmith, and visiting an earl and his new bride with no one caring much and no threat of gossip among the Ton. Which meant word would not get back to his parents.

Penelope had sent word ahead to her friends and family, including a second one to Leah at the theatre, as she frequently traveled back and forth. His own note to Edward annotated his travel dates and stated that he’d enjoy a brief visit if Edward’s time allowed. As his decision had been so close to the trip, he was not sure Edward would receive the note in time or would be free. If he was, he’d know to find Michael at the nicest inn in the town.

They gained Peterborough at lunchtime, and Penelope paced impatiently as he checked them into adjacent rooms at the inn. She had argued that she could stay with her family, but he desired her near, and she acquiesced. He suspected the size of her family’s home and the fact that her two very male family members had been living there alone for months might have had something to do with it. When he’d paid and received their room assignments, he directed the coachman to take the trunks up and they made their way to a nearby pub where she predicted her stepfather would be eating his lunch.

****

Penelope spotted David at the bar, chatting to the barkeep as he ate. The lunch crowd was light, and she sped around the tables to reach him, calling his name. Michael followed behind as she and her stepfather hugged and laughed with joy. The barkeep leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek as well, welcoming her back. As Michael reached her side, she introduced him as they had planned.

“David, this is Lord Michael Slade. He is a friend of Leah’s who I met in London and owns the theatre where I worked, so I see him often. He is here to visit Lord Peterborough and offered me a ride.”

David gestured to a table. “Lord Slade. Would you like to join us?”

She looked to Michael in question.

“Why do you not join your father and talk, and I shall head back to the inn to finish some paperwork?”

“Oh!” A bubble of happiness pulled her lips into a smile. “Do you mind? Thank you, Mich—my lord.”

“Sir, I look forward to meeting your son. I invite you all to dine with me, mayhap for your son’s birthday?” Ignoring her verbal stumble, Michael nodded to her and David.

David’s eyes widened in surprise at this generous offer from a titled lord. “Oh, ta, your lordship. We’d be ever so honored by your company.”

“We shall plan on seven, then, so as not to be too late for the boy. I will leave you both to lunch. Penelope, please come find me at the inn when you are ready, and we can walk over to Leah’s.”

“Certainly, my lord.” She cast her gaze down with a small curtsy in an attempt at decorum.

****

Penelope sank into a chair, unable to contain her questions long enough for her companion to even draw breath to answer them. “Oh, David, ’tis lovely to see you. And you look to be doing well. How is Matthew?”

He smiled and patted her hand affectionately. “Rick,” he called over to the barkeep, “bring Pen here a sausage pie, will ya?”

“Already put the order in.” Rick laughed as her inordinate fondness for that lunch was well known.

“Penelope, ’tis lovely to see you, too,” David said. “Thank you for your letters. You know I do not have the same way with words, so I hope you’ll forgive us gents for the less frequent replies. London sounds…well, interesting to say the least. And you are enjoying it so far?”

“Yes, so much, ta.”

“And you have nice friends there, then? Do you still see Leah often? And the couple you mentioned, the Thorpes? They look out for you?”

“Yes, yes, you needn’t worry about me. I am fine.” She tilted her head with a grin.

“Well, your ma would come back and haunt me if I did not worry a bit, so please bear with me.” His smile showed his affection, and invoking her mother was only an excuse for voicing his concern.

“Where is Matthew? How soon can I see him?”

“He’s with Mrs. James, doing schoolwork, as he should be. We received your letter but were not certain when you’d arrive. Are you truly able to stay for his birthday in two days?”

“Yes. ’Tis why I timed it thus.”

They dawdled over lunch as a few townsfolk who came in for their own lunches stopped by to greet Penelope. Eventually, David had to return to the forge, and she made her way back to the inn to collect Michael for a visit to the ladies.

****

Not seeing Michael downstairs or in the stables, Penelope made her way to their rooms. He was at the desk writing correspondence.

He looked up when she skipped into the room. “You seem to have enjoyed lunch.”

“Oh, yes, thank you so much for giving us that time. You’re invited to accompany me to the cottage later, as I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see Matthew. Did you get any lunch?”

“Yes, thanks. I had a cold plate sent up, and they’ve already returned to remove it. I am ready to have a stroll after all the sitting if you are ready?”

“Let me fetch the gifts I packed.” She had more embroidered lacy things for the women in the house at the end of town. She would need to warn them that the packages should be opened later, or they might give Michael an eyeful.

On the street, he took the satchel from her and offered his arm. As they made their way up Eastfield Road, she introduced him to a few shopkeepers and pointed out other businesses she’d described to him. The forge and her family’s small cottage was behind them, the other direction from the inn. At the end of downtown, they turned right at an angle up a hill and arrived at the last house.

Knocking, she bounced in excitement. Who would answer the door? Was Leah in town? Had they received her letter?

Then the door was thrown wide and Rachel was charging out and hugging her, bouncing with her. “Penelope! Love, come in, come in. We have missed you so! But all those lovely letters. Thank you so much. And that chemise—oh la la! So how was the trip? And you must tell me more about your house and your garden, and of course, your beau—” Her gaze shifted over Penelope’s shoulder.

Ah ha! So there is at least one thing that can pause Rachel’s word flow. She chuckled a bit at the expression on her friend’s face as Michael stepped into view. He had been off to her right as the door opened but redistributed his weight as Rachel attempted to drag her into the house bodily, bringing him closer.

“Good afternoon.” He offered a courtly bow. “Mayhap I can help with the last bit?” He smirked at Rachel.

“Oh, fiddlesticks, you must be Michael—er, Lord Slade. You may, good sir. You come on in as well. Nothing like hearing it from the horse’s mouth,” Rachel said and chortled at her own joke.

They stepped into the entryway, Pen automatically turning left into the parlor as voices carried from the kitchen.

Not waiting, Rachel bellowed, “Pen has arrived! And you’ll never guess who is with her!”

Mary and Ann came into view from the kitchen and rushed forward, each hugging Penelope in turn before stepping back. Rachel preempted her with the introductions for Michael, finishing with, “and I am Rachel, in case there was any doubt.”

He bowed to them all again. “Michael, Lord Slade, at your service, ladies. It is my great pleasure to meet all of you. Thank you for having me in your beautiful home.”

Rachel fanned her face with a handkerchief, falling theatrically against Penelope.

She should have gone on stage.

“Well! Leah said…but I did not believe…”

Penelope’s smile was smug, pleased at her friend’s reaction and at Michael’s deference to women who were considered beneath him by society’s standards.

“Rachel.” Mary’s tone carried a warning to her housemate before she herded the guests into the parlor. “Come. Let us all sit, and we can visit.” When Penelope claimed her usual spot on the settee, Michael took Rachel’s place next to her.

“Is Leah here?” she asked.

“She was due today, but she has yet to arrive.”

“Ah. Well, I do see her at least once a fortnight when she’s in London, so I dare say we’ll make do either way. I know Michael sees her there as well, am I right?” She turned to him to try to ensure he participated in the conversation.

“I see her sometimes, as she joins meetings with Prudence, the theatre manager,” he added to the ladies, in case they were not familiar. They nodded. He handed Penelope the bag he had carried for her.

“Oh, right! I brought you a few things.” She pulled wrapped parcels from the bag. “Mary, a lace chemise with a bit of extra stitching to help with—er, support. Ann, some garters that I know you, or at least your friend, will like.” A smaller one, this one purchased rather than made, “And Rachel, ivory that the maker said was strong enough even for your hair.”

“Excellent.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Sitting back, she stopped them as they tugged at the string. “Ah, mayhap you should open those later, and we can visit now?”

They looked up, and she tilted her head toward Michael.

“I shan’t mind if you do it now.” Michael’s cheek hollowed where he’d caught it between his teeth to stop from laughing.

Arching a brow at him, she drawled, “Please ignore his lordship, ladies. He is teasing me, or you, or all of us. He has seen what sort of gifts I make, as I wore one for him a few nights ago.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed as he shifted in discomfort from the memory of the lacy confection that Penelope’s nipples had poked through, begging to be sucked.

“Minx,” he muttered under his breath as she turned back to the women with a smug smile.

Mary’s mouth was agape at her audacity with her employer. Rachel was snickering as she eyed Michael’s lap, and Ann laughed and took Mary’s package, putting both of theirs to the side. She leaned over and whispered to Mary, just loud enough for the room to hear, “I’d rather try them on in private anyway, love.”

Mary’s face went up in flames, and she buried it in her hands, making the rest of the ladies giggle again.

“How long are you able to stay, Pen?” Rachel asked.

“Three days. We are visiting for Matthew’s birthday, but Michael needs to return to London for business.”

“You’ll be able to visit again whilst you are here?” Rachel’s gaze flicked between her and Michael.

Pen laughed under her breath. The ladies wished to hear about her well-being without him present.

“Oh yes. I hope to visit every day. Now, each of you tell me what you have been doing, and only then will we allow Rachel to interrogate Michael.”

They all laughed before settling in for a chat.

****

Back at the inn, Penelope collapsed on the bed, arms flung out. “I am eager to see Matt, but gor, I need a quick laydown and a cup of tea before I’m good for much of anything. I never realized how tiring talking can be.”

They were in his room. “Right, then. You just lie back and think of England. I need to see if you are wearing that delicious lace camisole you made for yourself.”

She was too tired to even giggle. He rolled her to her side, her limp body sprawling when he flipped it. Unlacing her dress and stays, he pulled one side down, then rolled her back to tug on the other side enough to expose her chemise and the top of her stays. He shoved the straps of her chemise down until her breasts popped free of the neckline. Leaving the undergarment where it caught on the loosened stays, he leaned over and sucked a hard tip into his mouth hungrily.

She arched, the strong draw skirting the line between pleasure and pain. She grabbed his head, unsure if she desired to pull him back and catch her breath or press him closer. In the end, she merely held him as he moved to her other breast, palming it with one hand as his arm braced his upper body next to her head.

His tongue swiped back and forth, harder than he had in the past. Her other nipple, damp from his ministrations, tightened further when the air hit it.

She stopped trying to decide if she liked what he was doing or not and simply gave herself over to him. He would do what he wished. She was his to play with, and she always ended up enjoying his ministrations.

Bolts of pleasure shot through her, and her hips jerked, jolting the bed and his leg. She loved hovering on that edge.

Levering to stand, he shoved his jacket and waistcoat off and dragged up her skirts.

Stealing a decorative pillow off the chair behind him, he sank to his knees by the bed to hook his hand behind her legs and draw her toward him.

Her skirts caught under her, so he grasped the front of them and flipped them over her waist.

Watching him lazily, she idly wished he’d remove his shirt, but she was too tired to ask.

Smoothing his hand up her inner thigh, he wetted two fingers and feathered them across the lips of her sex. Tugging each, he encouraged her sensitive flesh to swell and emerge.

She moaned under her breath, throwing an arm over her eyes and tilting her hips for him. Fatigue was forgotten. Tingles of pleasure ran along her skin. Her fingers itched to grab his hair and drag him up, but she knew he wouldn’t allow it. He’d rise when he was ready and not before. Her stomach clenched. She liked his control.

Sighing, she sank into his advice. She’d lie back and relax and enjoy.

And enjoy she did. He blew on her swollen outer lips, making her hips twitch. Tapping the protruding nub, he then glided one finger down, opening her inner petals. His finger made a shallow dip inside and returned to slide around her most sensitive spot, making it harden more. Then he licked his first two fingers thoroughly, pressed his tongue to the sensitive knot of nerves, and drove both fingers into her core, withdrew, and speared in again.

Her breath caught, her body trying to process this intrusion that toed the line of being too rough. But this was Michael, and she trusted him. Relaxing her inner muscles that had clenched, she focused on his mouth first, then his fingers, as her body accommodated them better. Every bump of knuckle rubbed her walls in a different way than his cock but aroused her just as much.

His tongue wiggled side to side, his fingers plunged again, and a flood of wetness rushed within her to coat them. He curled the digits forward, pressing on some magical spot inside her, making tiny movements in and out now and tonguing her swollen nub back and forth.

Oh. Oh. Another new sensation. What did he do with his fingers? Better than any cup of tea, the build to orgasm energized her. Heat built within her, her limbs became lighter, and her heart raced. Yes, I want this. I want you.

Her breasts jiggled with his movements, the tips hard little points of sensation. Awake now, she wanted more even as she held her breath, hoping he would not stop what he was doing. Her stomach muscles tightened, her sheath became ridged around him, and her button hardened even further. She held still, anticipating that delicious explosion he excelled at coaxing from her.

Gor, so close.

He drew away for a moment, and her eyes popped open, her mouth opening to beg. Looking at him past her perked nipples and ruched skirts, she watched him rip open his breeches and extract his cock.

“Yes, please.” It was a whisper of sound, but his quick grin showed he heard as he shoved into her.

Gasping, she clutched his arms as he leaned forward and braced his weight with one hand, pinching a nipple with the other. Holding her breath on a sharp inhale, she arched up, caught on an erotic edge of stinging pain. She circled her bottom, rubbed her nub against him, and moaned.

“Michael,” was all she could manage.

His hips pistoned, snapping back, then forward hard enough to shake the bed.

Less than half a dozen thrusts, and she was coming, throwing her head back and keening, still gripping his arms as her core clenched around him, milking him, and sensation rippled through her from head to toe.

He groaned and straightened, grabbing her hips to make two final quick jerks before shuddering over her. “Ahh, Pen.”

She opened her eyes to see him stumble back to half-fall into the chair to recover, breeches still undone, his cock still wet with her juices.

Reaching beside him, he grabbed a cloth, dipped it into the ewer of water, and cleaned himself before redoing his clothes. Then he wrung out the cloth and rewet it to clean her as she lay supine, unmoving where he had left her.

“Pen, you awake there?” His voice held a smile.

“No.” Her languor had returned full force.

“Right then. Shall I go alone to introduce myself to your brother?”

“No. I’m getting up,” she grumbled.

“Tea first, I promise.” He held his hand and helped her lace up before leading her downstairs.

****

They visited with her family at the little house behind the forge. When Matthew convinced Michael to play a game of shuttlecock with him in the stable yard, Penelope withdrew the sack of coins she had brought for her stepfather.

“David, I have been doing very well, and I even have some savings in a bank in London.” She set the cloth bag on his desk in the corner. “There has been no need to sell any of Mama’s jewelry. I cannot thank you enough for helping me get started on this path.”

“Now, Pen, I don’t need your money…” he began, frowning.

As he reached for the bag to give it back to her, she stepped in front of him.

“I know you do not. But I find myself with plenty, and I wish to share it with those I love. You offered me a home for years and provided my food, clothing, and education. I want Matthew to have every opportunity he desires, so please, let me do this, David. ’Tis not repayment. You did all that because you are such a good man, and you loved my mother and me. I want to help you and Matthew like you helped me.”

“Ah, my girl.” David grabbed her into a bear hug as he always had, and she pretended not to notice him wipe his eyes, even as he ignored her swipe at her own.