Page 16 of The Earl’s Tempting Ward (Dukes Gone Dirty #2)
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T he mask was so very fitting. Philippa adjusted it once more, giving Benedict what she hoped was a reassuring smile from where he stood talking to his friends Raff and Hayden.
“I haven’t known Lord Foster for long,” Evangeline was saying from beside her. “But I’ve never seen him so happy.”
Philippa’s smile for Benedict’s sake faltered. “You think he’s happy?”
Evangeline cut her a penetrating look. “Of course. Just look at the way he’s watching over you.” She laughed. “I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off you once.”
She chuckled. “Yes, well, that’s just because he’s waiting for me to cause trouble.”
Evangeline’s grin held more than a little mischief. “And my husband is just waiting for a moment to steal me away.”
Philippa cast her a sidelong look. The more time she spent in Evangeline’s presence, the more she liked the girl. She might look like an angel with her white-blonde hair and her beatific demeanor, but there was so much more beneath the surface.
Just like with Benedict. She eyed her betrothed now, and as always, felt a shiver of awareness caress her spine. Beneath his growls and his scars, he was so very caring.
He had so much love to give. She bit her lip. To the right woman.
To the woman who deserved it.
Evangeline’s sigh brought her back to the moment and she followed the other woman’s gaze to a now familiar gentleman. The sight of Mr. Foley made her lips twitch with mirth. All she’d had to do was smile at the man and Benedict had lost his senses.
The memory of how he’d punished her for flirting with his enemy was enough to have her clenching her thighs together to alleviate the ache.
Benedict had barely touched her since the night she’d told him her secrets. She knew why, of course. He was being thoughtful. Sweet, even.
She looked around them at the judgmental old biddies who seemed to delight in finding fault with Benedict. None of them could guess just how gentle he could be. All they saw were the scars. All they knew were the whispers of his guilt.
Sometimes she envied him his scars.
But tonight, all she could muster was anger on his behalf. He deserved so much better than this.
He deserves so much better than you.
“Do be careful around him,” Evangeline was saying.
It took Philippa a moment to realize Evangeline was still watching Foley. Her words of caution brought back the memory of Benedict’s command to steer clear of the gentleman.
“Careful? Why? He seems harmless enough.” Indeed, the fellow was handsome in a sort of bland, forgettable sort of way. He was smiling now, laughing amiably along with a handful of older women.
Evangeline’s lips pressed into a thin line as she watched alongside Philippa.
“What has he done that’s so very awful?” Philippa asked. “Benedict would not say.”
Evangeline’s tight-lipped expression softened and her tone was rueful. “No, he wouldn’t. He and Hayden have been as good a friend to me as they have been to Raff all these years.”
Philippa turned to her in surprise. “So this Mr. Foley harmed you in some way?”
“He tried.” Evangeline glared at the man. “I was so sheltered and naive before I met Raff that I actually believed Foley was in love with me.”
Philippa winced at the bitterness in the kind girl’s tone.
Evangeline sighed. “Fortunately for me, Raff stole me away before I could learn the truth the hard way.”
“And the truth was…” Philippa prompted.
Evangeline’s expression hardened. “Foley is a fortune seeker, nothing more. Which wouldn’t be so horrible.” She cast Philippa another wry smile. “Half the ton is filled with them.”
Philippa laughed at Evangeline’s tone. Yes, the more she got to know Evangeline, the more she was certain they could be dear friends.
If she were to stay.
All at once she could see it. She and Benedict, laughing and kissing. She and Benedict attending parties like this one, surrounded by friends. She and Benedict with children underfoot…
Her lungs hitched at the onslaught of happy images dancing before her.
They could be happy.
She could be happy.
And all at once, the crushing weight of guilt was back. It hadn’t ever fully left, she supposed. But with Benedict’s strict orders earlier tonight that she get dressed and be ready…
It had been pushed aside. But now it was back, and she was certain it would never truly be gone. It would always be there, pushing her to be self-destructive, keeping her from real happiness.
Keeping Benedict from the happiness he deserved.
“...that’s why Raff and the others keep an eye on him,” Philippa was saying. “He might not have succeeded in fooling me, but that’s only because Raff intervened. If he hadn’t…” Evangeline gave a delicate shudder. “I hate to think what might have become of me.”
Philippa followed her gaze back to Foley, but her mind was back within the stables. “Yes,” she murmured. “I know a thing or two about being gullible in the face of a charming young man.”
Evangeline looked at her but didn’t ask questions.
Truly, she would be the most wonderful sort of friend.
If she were to stay.
And she was back to that again. It was a thought that had been growing with each passing day, ever since Benedict had listened to her story and offered her redemption.
Redemption and a new life. A good life.
She’d known even as he’d held her that she couldn’t accept, as tempting as it might be.
He thought he understood—and indeed, in many ways he likely did understand more than most. But their mistakes weren’t the same. The level of guilt and responsibility was not equal.
She was glad for him that he could move on, but that sort of forgiveness was not meant for her.
“Mark my words,” Evangeline said, her voice low with warning. “One of these days, Foley will find a girl all too eager to run off with him. He’ll get his fortune, and that poor girl will be doomed to her own personal hell.”
Philippa made a noise, a murmur of acknowledgment. But her mind was spinning, her gaze locked on this notorious fortune hunter.
She had a fortune, after all.
And she deserved her own personal hell.
* * *
When the Duke of Raffian claimed his bride for a turn about the room, which somehow ended in them disappearing for nearly an hour, Philippa found her opportunity to confront the infamous fortune hunter.
Benedict and Hayden were deep in conversation with the Earl of Fallenmore and his lady, and Philippa found herself pausing beside the utterly forgettable-looking cad she’d been warned about.
“Mr. Foley,” she said simply.
“Ah, what a pleasure it is to see you again,” he said. And for a moment, Philippa could see how a sheltered young girl might be taken in by such a man. Precisely because he was so average. There was nothing intimidating about him, nor too charming or handsome.
He seemed harmless. And that right there was no doubt what made him so insidious.
She allowed the small talk to go on for only a moment longer, bristling with impatience now that she knew him for what he was.
“Shall we dispense with the pleasantries, Mr. Foley,” she finally interrupted.
His brows arched slightly, but a keen intelligence sparked in his eyes as he studied her. “Very well. Was there something in particular you wished to discuss…” His sharp eyes flickered over toward Benedict and others. “While your betrothed is otherwise occupied?”
There were others around. Her speaking to him was in no way improper. And yet guilt and shame oozed into her veins.
Was she doing this?
Was she truly doing this?
She watched Benedict’s harsh mouth curve up on one corner at something Lord Fallenmore said, and her heart gave a brutal kick.
She turned back to Mr. Foley. “I hear you are a man in need of a fortune, sir.”
His eyes narrowed, his expression guarded but there was no denying the interest there as well. “Are you so very unhappy with your current…predicament?” He cast another meaningful glance toward Benedict which left her cold.
Was she unhappy with him? No. Quite the contrary. But this man would never understand that. She didn’t answer him outright. “I’ve also heard that you have a penchant for stealing away unhappy young brides.”
His eyes gleamed with renewed interest as a weasley smile spread across his features. “I am always happy to help a young lady in need.”
She tried to smile in return and failed. “Then it seems you and I have much to discuss.”
In what seemed like no time at all, her fate was sealed.
By the time Benedict helped her into the carriage, Philippa’s future was clear. She’d thought perhaps there’d be some relief in that, in finally knowing how she would pay for her sins.
But all she felt was empty as Benedict climbed in after her and settled into his seat. “Philippa…” He drew her name out in that low growl of his.
She blinked up at him sweetly. “Yes, Benedict?”
“What were you doing talking to Foley for so long?” There was a chiding to his voice but he didn’t sound jealous.
Perhaps he thought she was taunting him again, teasing him into another stolen, passionate encounter.
She swallowed hard, keeping her smile in place. She’d known she wouldn’t have long, of course. But Foley was nothing if not quick-witted. He’d understood what she was offering instantly and a plan had been formed before Benedict could swoop in and hurry her away.
Which he had, whisking her onto the dance floor and not letting her go from his side for the remainder of the night.
But the deed was done. Not even this fearsome warrior could stop it now.
She settled back in her seat. “I feel sorry for the man, if you must know.”
His brows lowered. “You’re lying.”
She shrugged. She was lying. One short conversation with the knave was enough to turn her stomach. His charm was skin-deep and it had disappeared in a heartbeat once she’d spoken plainly.
But he was a means to an end, that was all.
A way out of this engagement Benedict had forced upon her. He’d be humiliated by the scandal, but that couldn’t be helped. It was better than being trapped with her for a lifetime.
Benedict’s brows were drawing together and she could all but see the questions forming on his tongue.
She acted swiftly, dropping to her knees the moment the carriage began to move.
His eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
But this was surely obvious as she reached for the fastening of his trousers, her mouth watering for a taste of him. Her blood was rushing through her veins and a frantic desperation was clawing at her chest as a new realization set in—her time was running out.
“Philippa,” he breathed, his hand settling over hers. “You don’t have to do this?—”
“I want to,” she said. “Please, my lord.”
His eyes darkened. He couldn’t resist her when she was on her knees. Maybe it was wrong but just being in this position, between his powerful thighs and at his mercy…
It had her nipples tightening and her sex growing wet.
Tonight. She had tonight to show him how grateful she was—no, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t gratitude for his kindness that she felt. It was…
She shook her head. There’d be endless time ahead of her to sort through her feelings for this man who’d challenged her and pushed her, cherished her and saved her.
But for tonight, she meant to show him what was in her heart even if she could not put it into words.
Her fingers were clumsy with eagerness but with a happy sigh, she freed his long, hard shaft, marveling at the sight of it, the feel of it in her hands.
“Love,” he groaned as she took her sweet time stroking him, learning the feel of his member and figuring out what he liked.
He put his hands over hers. “When we get home, love, I’m going to bury this inside of you.”
“I don’t want to wait,” she whispered. And then she leaned forward, licking the tip first, and heartened by his growl of satisfaction.
She smiled against the ridge. “I want to please you, my lord.”
“Oh love, you always do.”
“Teach me,” she pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes as she slid the tip of his member between her lips, swirling her tongue the way he’d done to her when he’d licked her sex.
His head fell back with a groan. When he shoved his hands roughly into her coif, she thought he might tug her away, but instead he guided her so her mouth slid down his shaft. He moved her slowly, giving her time to adjust.
She could feel his thighs shaking beneath her hands from the restraint he was using.
She didn’t want restraint. She wanted to be used by him, to be taken roughly the way she ached for it.
“Christ, pet,” he whispered. “Your mouth feels so good.”
She moaned around his girth because he felt good too. He tasted like heaven as his familiar scent filled her nose. She sucked gently, stilling when his fingers tightened in her hair.
Was she doing it wrong?
But when his hips gave an instinctive jerk, thrusting deeper into her mouth, she felt a surge of triumph. She sucked harder, loving his answering growl.
She slid her lips up, letting his member slide out long enough to whisper a command of her own. “Show me, my lord. I want you to.”
He groaned, his fingers so tight in her hair it tugged against her scalp. But he did as she asked, guiding her mouth over his length and then pumping into her just like he did to her quim. She sucked and licked, opening her mouth as wide as it would go as he tugged her head down until the top of his shaft hit the back of her throat.
“That’s it, love,” he growled above her.
His words made her moan even as she fought a gag when he went too deep. But even then she wanted more. Her sex was aching to be touched, her breasts so sensitive that every move made her tight nipples harder as they rubbed against her bodice.
He shoved a hand inside, plucking at her nipple as his other hand firmly guided her head up and down. He muttered coarse words that ought to have horrified her, demanding that she suck him, that she swallow his release, that she take him in as far as she could.
But his words and his rough handling made her so filled with desire she nearly came along with him when he exploded inside her mouth, his semen spurting hot and thick into the back of her throat.
She nearly choked on it, but was met with murmurs of ‘good girl’ when she swallowed it all and pulled back to face him.
“What did I do to deserve you?” he asked, his eyes half-closed and sleepy.
She grinned up at him, pushing aside the pain that threatened to swallow her whole at what was to come.
At the way she would eventually hurt him.
But better she hurt him once and be gone than spend a lifetime making him suffer.