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Page 22 of Miss Thornfield’s Daring Bargain (The Troublemakers Trilogy #1)

Thornfield House

London

T hree hours later, Ada was clean and curled up on the chaise in her bedroom, wrapped in her dressing gown. Her hair was clean and woven in a damp braid down her back. Every inch of her body felt bruised and exhausted. Her mind couldn’t settle, and her emotions darted from sadness to anger and fear. It seemed as though it had been months since she’d been able to take a breath. There had been no rest from the anxiety and terror since her brother had gone missing, and just when she’d been certain it had all been over, Trent had returned. Every noise, every sound, set her skin crawling and her teeth on edge.

Images, sounds, and scents from earlier in the night kept surfacing without warning. The heavy weight of Trent and Elodia pressing her into the ground while her numb hands struggled to keep pressure on his throat. The stench of the river. The dull thudding of footsteps on the ground. The sinking feeling in her stomach when Trent cut off her escape. The rage and desperation she felt coursing through her veins in those final moments when she was on her own, gripping her dagger with bloody desperate fingers as she stabbed down relentlessly into Trent’s chest. In that moment she hadn’t been herself, rather she had felt like a vengeful demon releasing a lifetime of rage and fear.

Basil had been a joy, waiting on her hand and foot, helping her bathe the filth from her body, combing out her hair and braiding it for her. Every time he stopped touching her a mild panic began to simmer in the back of her mind, and those images threatened to emerge. When he’d left the room the panic had choked her long enough for him to get away and she’d been sitting there, afraid to move, hoping he would return. How had her childhood room become a place where fears could reach her? She hated it. She was tired of being afraid, tired of looking over her shoulder. Tired of feeling displaced.

The door opened and Basil entered carrying a cup and saucer. Her sweet, wonderful husband with his bright eyes and warm heart. His hair was all over the place and he only wore his shirt and trousers and an anxious expression. She was tired of seeing that look on his face as well.

He handed her the cup before crouching down before her. “Drink all of that,” he said softly.

“Is it tea?”

“There’s tea in there, yes.” He said just as she took a sip. Fire raced down her throat as the flavor of smoke and wood flooded her tongue.

Ada coughed and winced, “That’s horrific.”

“Drink it all now, don’t be troublesome,” he said, a shadow of a smile on his mouth.

“What will you give me if I do?” she asked.

He pretended to think about it, tilting his head to one side. “I’ll let you sit in my lap,” he replied.

She glared at him but finished it quickly. “Couldn’t you have used brandy? I like brandy.”

“I’ll keep some on hand in case you decide to get kidnapped again,” he replied dryly as he took back the cup and placed it on the side table.

Her mouth opened to give him an outraged retort, but then he gathered her up in his arms and set her down in his lap, wrapping his arms around her. The instant she settled against that hard chest and the heat from his body sank into her skin she forgot her outrage. This was what she’d wanted the most. The safest place for her, the place with the most comfort and care would always be right here in his arms.

“I didn’t mean to get kidnapped,” she mumbled laying her head on his shoulder, as his hands stroked up and down her body, cuddling and caressing her at the same time.

“I know, Sweetheart,” he replied before kissing her head. “I was only teasing.”

“Are you sure you want a wife as troublesome as I am?” she asked, nuzzling her nose against his neck, breathing his scent of cloves and lavender.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said. “After all, it’s not every day a man finds a woman who will ravish him in his study.”

She hummed in response, her own hands drifting over his chest, inside the open collar of his white shirt. She felt him take a deep breath as her fingertips traced spirals over the smooth skin dusted with dark hair. In a short period of time his body had grown familiar to the point of necessity. Every time the low timbre of his voice rumbled through his throat and chest a restlessness grew inside her. A kind of desperation to touch and be touched. For her body to know the nightmare was finally over and she was safe at last.

She pressed her lips to the side of his throat once, twice, before moving down to his collarbone. He inhaled sharply, his grip on her tightening.

“Ada,” his voice rumbled against her lips, making her smile.

“I miss you,” she said, sliding her hand up to his shoulder to cup the back of his neck.

“You are too injured for that.”

She frowned, lifting her head to pout at him. “Why are you the one who gets to decide that?”

“Because I’m the one who has to look at you,” he said, and the look in his eyes told her he was about to be difficult about this.

“Are you saying you don’t want to?” she asked.

“I’m saying I’m worried. My heart hasn’t recovered from earlier and I won’t want to hurt you.”

If he was hoping she would give up after hearing that he was about to be educated otherwise. She shifted to straddle his lap, resting her palms on his shoulders and pressing her sex to his through his trousers. He hissed in a breath, his hands sliding over her dressing gown from her waist down to her upper thighs. She felt him harden against her and knew her goal was in sight.

“I haven’t recovered either,” she replied sliding her hands into his hair, scraping her nails over his scalp lightly. “But I can’t think about it anymore. I need to forget for a while. Can you help me?”

He let out a breath, his eyes heavy lidden and dark with restrained passion. “Yes,” he replied. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need your hands on me,” she said. He nodded once and leaned forward, his arms coming around her again, his hands smoothing over her back and sides, lingering on her stomach. The relief she felt at the pressure of his first touch was immeasurable. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him closer to her, then his fingers unwittingly found a tender spot on her back that had her hissing in pain.

Basil froze before drawing her away from him, concern etched all over his face. “Ada.”

She shook her head, desperate tears stinging her eyes. “I’m all right.” She was so close to feeling like herself again. He gazed at her, a fierce battle playing out in the depths of his blue eyes but then he sighed and began pulling at the ties holding her dressing gown together. Inch by inch her naked body revealed itself to him and with every bruise his eyes darkened with concern.

His touch drifted over her flesh as he pushed away the heavy green silk, light and hot as a flame turning her skin to gooseflesh and hardening her nipples in one shimmering instant. “I’m sick of seeing bruises on you,” he murmured.

What was he talking about? “This is only the first time,” she replied, fighting back a shiver as his fingertips pushed back her sleeves, tracing the delicate skin of her inner wrist where the ropes had left dark angry lines.

“And I’m sick of it.” His eyes, when they met hers, were full of somber intensity. She wondered briefly if she was asking too much of him. If she was being too selfish by insisting on this when he was so anxious about her well-being. Then his hand curled around the back of her neck and he drew her down for a deep kiss that made her breath catch in her throat. It felt like forever since she’d felt his mouth against hers and his tongue sliding past her teeth.

She reached for his shirt, tugging on the crushed linen until the hem pulled free from the waistband of his trousers. Then her hands slid under, eager to touch his skin and feel the body that had given her so much pleasure and would continue to do so for the rest of their lives. She pulled away long enough to lift the fabric over his head and throw it away. Then his arms were around her again, pressing her to his body with careful but unyielding pressure.

“Basil,” his name came out on a sigh and he nuzzled her ear.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“Kiss me.”

Slow and steady his lips and tongue marked a path down her neck, turning every tendon to water until her head dropped backward. Her fingers tightened convulsively against his shoulders as he tasted her shoulders, as his hand lifted a breast with one aching nipple up to his mouth. The soft fuzz of his beard scraped her bare breasts, making her groin clench and with every pull of his soft mouth the ache between her legs deepened and sharpened until she was rocking against his hardening sex desperate for some kind of relief.

With one arm around her waist he released her breast and reached between them, sliding his palm over her aching sex, earning a sharp moan. This was what she’d been craving, that unerring, instinctive ability he had to know exactly where she needed to be touched and leave her glistening and swollen, stroked to writhing, moaning life.

He lifted his head, “Ada?”

She shook her head fervently, bringing his mouth to hers, “Don’t stop. Touch me, please touch me.” She gasped as he slid two strong fingers inside her, his thumb tracing circles of wet fiery sensation around the aching nub of flesh he’d been courting. She moved against his hand, encouraging his fingers to thrust deeper, tearing her mouth away from his for a desperate gasp of air. His mouth moved over her cheek, down her neck, pulling her closer as his fingers thrust inside her with methodical precision grazing an area of electrifying sensation. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in them chasing every ribbon of sensation, every ounce of tension until it all erupted into a shimmering cataclysm of pleasure that left her shaking.

She felt when he pulled his fingers from her body, resting his hot damp hand lightly on her bare hip while the other stroked and caressed her back, those broad palmed long-fingered hands holding her together, pressing her back into a shape she was finally starting to recognize again. When she lifted her head after a few moments of reprieve he was still petting her. He leaned his head back and met her eyes.

“All right, darling?” he asked.

She nodded and kissed him, once in gratitude, then again, slower as her hands gripped his face holding him where she needed him. He’d brought her some relief but she wanted all of him and she wasn’t going to let him get away with giving her anything less. She could tell he was only meeting her halfway, still unsure whether to give her what she really wanted. He was kissing her back but unwilling to escalate further. When she drew away his face was flushed, his mouth was swollen but his gaze was focused and clear. That needed to change.

“What do you need?”

She didn’t look away. Somehow it felt perfectly natural to look him in the eye and say the next words. “I need you inside me.”

He reached up and brushed a loose tendril of hair back from her face, his thumb brushing tenderly over her cheek. “Show me.”

That was all she needed to hear from him, a sign that he was willing as long as he believed she was able. She reached between them and unbuttoned the front of his trousers where she found him hot and hard. She wrapped one hand around his length, reconciling herself to its size now that she was taking a good look at it. She’d always felt it inside her but never noticed the darker hue compared to the rest of his skin, had never appreciated how smooth and soft that skin felt in counterpart to the hard pulsating flesh it enveloped.

She glanced up at Basil and found his eyes fixed on her, heavy lidded and dark with carnal appreciation, while his breaths came heavy and slow. That gaze alone had her core clenching with anticipation and heat radiating from her core all throughout her body. She kissed him again, taking first his lower lip and then his upper lip between hers as her tongue traced over his. He nipped her lip lightly and she smiled. He was getting impatient.

Perfect.

She lifted her body up onto her knees and lowered herself onto his swollen length, guiding him into her wet, eager body. Or at least she tried to. No amount of enthusiasm could make up for the fact that somehow it felt like there was even more of him. She couldn’t lower herself any further and her thighs were beginning to burn. Was she doing it wrong? She looked up at him and saw his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw so tense it looked like a touch would shatter it.

“Basil,” she whispered and his eyes opened slowly. “It won’t fit.”

The sound he made could have been a laugh or a whimper, but he leaned forward wrapping his arm fully around her waist. Then he kissed her neck and moved his free hand between them to catch that swollen nubbin of flesh between his fingers. Slowly he moved her up and down, easing his penis further into her body with each stroke, teasing her with fresh delight every time his fingers brushed the sides of that locus of rapture.

He nuzzled her breast, his tongue searching for her tender nipple and bringing it between his lips. On the first pull her eyes rolled back in her head, the combined assault on her senses too much to bear. He kept sucking, stroking, thrusting, teasing until at last she felt her thighs resting on his. He shifted his hips forward and leaned back further, adjusting the angle until she was leaning over him as well as against him.

She braced one weak arm against the back of the chaise and the other on his chest, her heart racing and her body one movement away from igniting, ready to claim her prize. His hand rested on her hip and pushed, firmly guiding her movements, showing her how to roll her hips and set a slow and steady pace to give them both what they wanted. He arched his back on her downthrust, making sure she could grind that sensitive bit of flesh right against his pubic bone. Then he wrapped his arms around her glistening, trembling body, pressing kisses and moans into her skin from her neck to her forehead.

Ada squeezed her stinging eyes shut, clinging to him as the first wave of ecstasy took her by surprise, dragging her into convulsions. His hands shifted to grip her bottom, keeping her in place as he buried a groan in her hair. She pushed him down further into the arm of the chaise, rocking her hips harder and faster until he let out a shout, his hips jerking against hers in spasms, sending them both into another explosion of pleasure that Ada felt skittering across every nerve ending in her body.

She pressed her forehead to his waiting for her breath to calm down to normal, for her skin to settle. Then she knew nothing more.

*

She was finally asleep. Ada lay curled on her side, curled up in her unfastened robe, buried under the covers while Basil watched, wide awake. He was bone weary, but he couldn’t close his eyes. There was an itch in the back of his mind that wouldn’t let him rest or take his eyes off his wife. He knew it was over. It had to be over now, didn’t it? Only now that Trent was dealt with his mind was turning to Ada’s uncle, the one who had started all of this in motion to begin with.

How many times would he have to feel that terror of knowing she was in danger every time she set foot outside the house? How many more times would he see her covered in cuts and bruises with that wild broken look in her eyes? He didn’t know what being her husband would turn him into in order to keep her safe but he knew that whatever it was, the metamorphosis had begun long before tonight. Time would make it even more complete and intractable. More and more the only identify he could think to define himself was as her lover, her protector, her safe haven, her husband .

If his father could hear his thoughts now he would think Basil had lost his mind along with all sense of male patriotism. Perhaps he had. But the fear he’d never shake came with a freedom unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. Freedom to love and be loved as much as his heart could manage. Freedom to look himself in the mirror unflinchingly and know that every part of his life was anchored in a woman beyond the price of rubies, or social pretense, or familial obligation.

A light knock came at the door and Basil glanced down at Ada, wondering if she would wake. When she didn’t he kissed her forehead and rose from the bed, grabbing his rumpled shirt from the floor as he went and pulling it over his head. He cracked the door open and saw Richard’s butler, Lewis, standing in the doorway.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

“There’s a Mr. Kingston here to see you, sir.”

“Leo? Let him in,” Basil said.

“He’s in the sitting room awaiting you sir.”

Basil nodded and closed the door. He tucked his shirt into his trousers and pulled up his suspenders before rebuttoning his trousers. A rustle from the bed drew his attention as Ada sat up, looking around for him.

“Basil?”

“I’m here,” he said crossing over to her and taking her hand.

She stared at him with a sleepy frown. “You’re dressed again.”

“Leo has a message for us, I was just going down to speak to him.”

“I’m coming,” she said moving to slide off the bed.

He shook his head and ran his hand over her braid. “No, go back to sleep darling.”

“I won’t sleep without you anyway. I don’t want to be here by myself.” She would never know how those words tore at his heart. No matter what it took she would feel safe on her own again. He swore it.

He nodded in silence, and waited as she re-tied her robe before leading her down to the sitting room where Leo was standing by the fireplace, disheveled and visibly exhausted but the calmest he’d appeared in days.

“Sorry to come so late, Bas,” he said. “And you, Mrs. Thompson.”

“I think you can call me Ada at this point.”

“Ada then. I know it’s late, but I have news and I imagined you’d want to know as soon as possible.”

“Is it about Trent?”

“Yes, I just left the prison.”

“Has his execution been scheduled?”

“No, but either way he won’t be an issue for anyone anymore.”

Something on his face gave the answer to the obvious question.

“He’s dead?” Ada asked.

Leo watched her solemnly and nodded.

“Was it… did Ellie and I do it?” she asked and Basil slid an arm around her narrow shoulders when she shivered.

“No, although you both did quite a number on him, I have to say. What on earth did you attack him with?”

“Hair pins.”

Leo’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened. “Jesus Christ.”

“He tried to kidnap us! He was threatening to hurt Ellie!”

“I’m not excusing his actions but perforated by hairpins is not a good way to go.”

“Well, they are more like daggers really,” she exclaimed.

Leo’s laughter, though weak, lit up his dark amber eyes. “Either way, it wasn’t either of those. Someone slit his throat.”

“While he was in prison?”

“Apparently.”

Ada winced at the image. Inexplicably, despite all he’d done to her and her family her eyes burned with fresh tears. “It’s not exactly surprising.”

“No.”

“Do we know who?” Basil asked. It could have been one of the men he owed money, but it could well have been Ada’s uncle, or someone working for him.

“Not yet, but I have my guesses.” Leo rose to his feet. “I won’t stay any longer.”

Ada took a step forward. “I’m indebted to you, Mr. Kingston. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done to help me and my brother.”

“Not at all. It’s nothing your brother wouldn’t do for me. And if I’m using your name, you can use mine.”

Ada smiled and tried to sit up straight. “Are you sure you won’t have at least a cup of tea, Leo?”

“You’re good, but my mother is expecting me back tonight. I don’t want to keep her up any later than usual.”

“Give the old dear my regards,” Basil said.

“I’ll tell her you called her old,” Leo said with a smirk before heading out the door.