Page 31 of Benefactor to the Baroness (The Seductive Sleuths #3)
A s Fontaine leaned on the railing of Captain Charles’s steamship, a crowd of tradesmen and dock workers gathered around Mr. Prue, who had been dragged out of the city by James and Cookie.
“What’s going to happen to him?” Annie asked.
Fontaine didn’t know how to answer. It felt as if there were a splinter slowly digging itself deeper into her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe. She couldn’t think about the children she was leaving behind without feeling nauseated. Instead of rescuing them herself, she had to trust James and the others to work in her stead. It wasn’t what the Fontaine of even a month ago would have done, but Rosemary had shown her that doing everything herself was impossible.
A seagull screamed overhead, and a spray of mist hit Fontaine in the face, making her wince.
“He’ll face justice eventually,” Rosemary said, joining them at the railing. “There’s nothing more we can do.”
Rosemary was right, of course, but that didn’t stop her from feeling that splinter sink deeper into her heart. She smoothed her hand over her pocket, which contained the book Rosemary had stolen. Between what they’d seen, the letters she’d taken from Mr. Prue’s desk, and the notebook, she had to hope it would be enough to convince the board to expel Mr. Blake.
The people on the shore had grown so small that she could barely see them. Despite that, she could still feel the stares, as if all the children she had left behind were standing near the water. So many had already died and would continue to suffer while she sailed back to London. If only she could have communicated with the board some other way, but she didn’t trust that any other communication would not be misinterpreted or diverted. Only a face-to-face interaction would do.
“I asked the captain to assign us the same cabin we had before,” Rosemary said. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Fontaine sniffed. “Thank you.”
Rosemary chuckled. “For what? For interrupting your impending marriage, or for ensuring we’ll have privacy on the return trip to London?”
Fontaine chuckled. “All of it, and more.”
She tilted her head onto Rosemary’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Rosemary snorted. “Sure, you could have, but you would have given away all of your possessions and would have ended up married to Mr. Prue.”
Fontaine giggled again. Rosemary was right. She had been so consumed with guilt because she hadn’t felt she deserved anything in her life. Including Rosemary’s affection.
But she’d been wrong.
It didn’t matter the circumstances. What had happened in Halifax was not her fault, and the only person who owed the relocated orphans was Mr. Prue. There was only so much one woman could do. She couldn’t be in two places at once, and although she knew she had to fight to get more people to help her, not take it all on her shoulders, marrying a man was out of the question. What she and Rosemary had was special, and Fontaine would not sacrifice it, or herself, for anything.
“We won’t be able to keep doing this when we return,” Fontaine whispered. “Not if Mr. Prue’s letter arrives before us.” Without the protection of a husband, she would have to be completely respectable to survive the inevitable scandal. That meant distancing herself from Rosemary.
“London is days away,” Rosemary whispered. “This time that we have is ours until then.”
“What should we do with that time?” Fontaine asked. She slid her hand down Rosemary’s back.
What she needed was a distraction. The more she thought about the board, the more anxious she got. Better to put it out of her mind. At least for a while.
Rosemary turned in Fontaine’s embrace, and their lips came together with no hesitation.
“Bunk,” Rosemary whispered against her mouth.
They made it to the privacy of their room in record time. Then Fontaine was clawing at her gown with a fervor, tugging laces and yanking each layer off of her until she wore only her underthings. Rosemary remained fully clothed as she pushed Fontaine onto their bunk.
“Watch me.”
Rosemary lifted her arms to her hair and pulled the pins out, one by one, to clatter onto the floor. Each lock of hair that fell stoked the embers burning inside Fontaine. She wanted to reach out, but as she crawled closer, Rosemary crossed her arms.
“Touch yourself,” she said.
Fontaine flushed. “ That ’s what you want?”
Rosemary grinned. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself while you watch me.”
She gulped and removed her shift, leaving her bare aside from her stockings, then spread her legs and brought her fingers to her sex. She was already dripping wet and ready. As she massaged herself, Rosemary shed layers one at a time while swishing her lips and fluttering her eyes. When she was down to her shift, Fontaine licked her lips. The dusky shape of Rosemary’s nipples was visible through the thin linen.
She imagined those breasts pressed to her mouth and worked herself with an increasing fervor. As she sped up, so did Rosemary. She lifted her shift over her head, revealing every inch of delicious skin, and the triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs. She spun around, circling her hips, bearing the smooth skin of her buttocks and the curve of her back.
Fontaine wasn’t sure which view she preferred more.
Rosemary spun back around and crouched forward, stretching her arms toward Fontaine’s ankles. The prickling of nails on her skin sent electric tingles up her body, and she had to resist the urge to curl her legs to her chest.
Having Rosemary between her legs was exactly where she wanted her.
“Don’t stop,” Rosemary whispered as she began kissing up from Fontaine’s ankle. “I want to see you finish. I want to feel you tremble as pleasure courses through you. Then I want to taste you as you shiver with desire.”
Fontaine panted as she worked herself, growing wetter by the moment. She imagined Rosemary bringing her lips to join Fontaine’s hands, felt the phantom kisses and plunge of a tongue inside her.
A fluttering began in her stomach, but she wasn’t quite ready to orgasm. She slowed her movements, eliciting a glance from Rosemary.
“So that is your trick,” Rosemary said. “Well, I rather think I can beat you at that one.” She put her hands on Fontaine’s thighs and spread them apart in a smooth motion that made her feel as if she were being opened for inspection. Then Rosemary brought her lips down and began movements that quickly brought Fontaine back to the edge. She clutched at the sheets, wanting yet more pleasure.
“You’re very good,” Rosemary said. Then she pressed the tips of two fingers slowly into Fontaine and curled them upward. The pressure and sensation were too much. The orgasm rippled through her body, making her cry out until she collapsed in a boneless heap. Her skin was covered in sweat, and she felt raw inside, but in a good way.
Rosemary shifted to lie atop her, one knee draped over Fontaine’s legs, her head on Fontaine’s chest.
“What about you?” Fontaine asked as she brought her arm around Rosemary. She trailed her fingertips along the soft skin of Rosemary’s back, then tangled them in her hair.
“Not yet,” Rosemary said. “I want to enjoy the feeling of you spent beneath me first. I never want to forget what this feels like.”
The sadness in her voice had Fontaine turned so they were facing each other. “I’m sorry for doubting you. You were right about everything, but I was too stubborn to see it. Sacrificing myself would have accomplished nothing. It would have just made me miserable.”
Rosemary brushed the backs of her fingers against Fontaine’s cheek. “I was stubborn, too. Selfish. I wanted you all to myself. I didn’t want to think about the consequences or about so many children being harmed. It used to be easy not to think about anyone else.”
Fontaine sniffed. “Mr. Prue was right about one thing. It would give us a way out if I married a man. The committee would be more willing to dismiss Mr. Prue’s claims, even if they had already received his letter. Depending on which man I chose, I might even have sway over politics.”
Rosemary tensed. “You could.”
Fontaine squeezed her arms around Rosemary. “But I won’t because I can’t imagine living without you. I don’t want to spend another night without you.”
Rosemary squeezed her back. “You are too sentimental.” Her words were terse, but there was a waver in her voice.
“Let’s make a deal,” Fontaine said, coming up on her elbow so she could look down into Rosemary’s face. “We won’t give up hope until we arrive.” She touched Rosemary’s cheek. “I want to enjoy every moment I have with you before the rest of the world intrudes.”
A tear slid down from Rosemary’s eye toward her ear. Fontaine caught it and wiped it away, then kissed the spot where it had trailed. Then she kissed lower until Rosemary was squirming beneath her.
True to their promise, Rosemary didn’t speak of their future again that night because Fontaine ensured that every sound that came out of her mouth was an inarticulate cry.