World of de Wolfe Pack_Trusting the Wolfe Page 6

  He placed his hand on her arm. “Your aunt might also be in danger.”

  Tessa closed her eyes at the thought. While she liked to think she could protect herself, Aunt Betty could not. Her shoulders sagged even as her heartbeat accelerated. What choice did she have?

  Yet the idea of spending more time with Marcus frightened her. How could she shore up her defenses before she lost her heart and her innocence to this man?

  ~*~

  Marcus stood as Tessa entered the drawing room that evening before supper. Her eyes grew wide as she glanced about the room, making him try to see what she did. His home was vastly different than hers, but he hoped she would still be comfortable here.

  Her simple blue gown with a hint of a bustle might not have matched the elaborateness of a debutante’s but it complimented Tessa’s curves. “Are you settled?”

  “Yes. Thank you. The room is charming, my lord.”

  He frowned at her form of address. “Surely we’re beyond such formalities.” He took her bare hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “I like the sound of my given name on your lips. I rarely hear it.”

  “What do others call you?”

  “The Wolf. ’Tis a name passed down through the generations since my ever-so-many-great grandfather’s time. He is said to have had a terrifying reputation, causing other men to tremble in their boots.”

  “Oh?” She smiled up at him. “Do you resemble him?”

  “I am told my eyes are similar to his. Of course, that’s all based on family stories. He was a legendary knight feared by many, especially on the battlefield.”

  “A knight?” She leaned back and studied him from head to toe. “I could certainly envision you in chainmail with a sword strapped to your side. You would be fierce in battle. Of that I have no doubt.”

  “Sir William de Wolfe was a man like few others. He fought the Scots many times until he married one.” He released her hands to pour a splash of sherry into a crystal glass and a brandy for him, handing her the sherry as he moved to stand before her.

  “He married his enemy?” She held the glass carefully as though not certain what to do with it.

  “The Lady Jordan was first his healer, then his lover, then his wife.”

  Tessa’s eyes went wide. “That’s the name you called me. The night in the alleyway.”

  Marcus realized his mistake too late. Why had he told her the story? He took a sip to give himself a moment to respond. “You have the same coloring my great grandmother was said to have had. Green eyes and hair the color of warm honey.”

  She raised one of those honey-colored brows. “You must’ve thought the ghost of your grandmother had come to aid you when I appeared in the alley.”

  He chuckled, unwilling to admit which part of her assumption was wrong—that he’d thought his own de Wolfe angel had arrived to save him. With a frown, he glanced at the doorway. “Is your aunt joining us soon?”

  “She asked to have a tray sent to her room. I’m afraid the day’s events were overwhelming, even though she didn’t experience them firsthand.”

  Marcus did his best to hide a smile of satisfaction at the idea of having Tessa to himself for the entire evening. If all went as planned, he intended to ask her to consider a future with him.

  He escorted her to the settee where they conversed for several more minutes before a footman announced supper was ready. He offered his arm, drawing her close as they walked side-by-side into the dining room. As he’d requested, her place was next to his rather than at the end of the long table. The evening promised to be an enjoyable one.

  ~*~

  Tessa stopped short at the sight of the elaborate place settings and candelabra, dismay filling her. Since the moment she’d entered his home, she’d been overwhelmed and felt completely out of place.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m hardly dressed for such a fine meal.” While she’d worn her best gown, it was nothing compared to what a lady would wear to such a meal.

  He waved away her concerns as he pulled out her chair. “Nonsense. You look beautiful. I’m honored to dine with you.”

  Tessa drew a long breath, trying to relax. It had been easy to forget he was an earl earlier in the day, but here, it was impossible. “Your home is lovely.” Amazing. Ornate. Fancier than her wildest dreams.

  Still the tasteful elegance of the furnishings suited Marcus. But she’d never in her life felt so out of her element. Every item, from the intricate gold knocker on the front door to the hand-painted wallpaper in her room to the crystal and china sitting on the table, reminded her she didn’t belong.

  “I fear I haven’t been completely honest with you,” Marcus advised her as one footman poured their wine and another began serving them. Another oddity that would take some getting used to.

  Her gaze leapt to meet his. Was this it? Would this be the moment he told her a wife awaited him at his castle in Northumberland?

  “I have reason to believe one of my ships might be involved in hauling girls to the continent.”

  Relief made her knees so weak that she was grateful to be sitting. As Marcus explained his suspicions about what his ship’s cargo hold was being used for, her feeling of being out of place fell away. The information he shared appalled her. To think of such a terrible fate coming to Sally or Molly made her ill. They discussed the information they knew with what had recently been reported by social activists.

  To her surprise, he knew Josephine Butler, a social reformer who had recently started fighting for the welfare of prostitutes. The terrible descriptions of the white slave trade and poor treatment of prostitutes she shared at public meetings had caught the interest of many.

  “She lived in Northumberland for a time before moving to London. I have followed some of her reports on the poverty here.”

  “I admire her fortitude,” Tessa said. “I’m certain she’s made many enemies in her effort to reveal the travesties that occur on a daily basis.”

  “The wealthy in the city need to play a larger role in solving the problem. Fair wages have been something I’ve tried to implement in the coal mines my family owns. While some profit must be made in order to keep a business viable, it is equally important for the workers to earn a living.”

  Tessa felt her heart swell as he spoke. To hear a successful lord say such things rather than declare the issue someone else’s problem touched her deeply. While she and her aunt might make a small difference with their efforts, a man like him would make a big difference. Not only with the workers in his employ, but to influence other members of the ton.

  The meal passed quickly and so enjoyably. The food was delicious—a savory soup, roasted pork with potatoes, and freshly baked dinner rolls. The wine was light on her tongue. She couldn’t help but compare the evening to her normal routine of a simple supper with her aunt. There were too many differences to count, so she did her best to enjoy the experience. After the meal, they returned to the drawing room with Marcus guiding her to sit beside him on the settee again.

  “Have you always lived in London?” Marcus asked as he held her hand.

  “Yes. My mother died when I was eight. My father was a clerk at an assurance company but, without Mother to berate him, he made one unwise decision after another with what little money he made. He died when I was fourteen. Aunt Betty had recently started the seamstress shop and invited me to join her.”

  The memories were far from pleasant. She’d feared that she’d be forced into a workhouse as all their belongings had been taken to be sold by the creditors. Her anger at her father had not died with him. The fear she’d lived through in the dark days after his death before Aunt Betty had rescued her were something she’d never forget.

  “What are you not telling me?” Marcus placed a finger under her chin so she looked at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can see the pain in your eyes. What happened?”

  The concern in his voice touched her. But she d
idn’t want his pity. “My father left me in rather dire circumstances. If not for Aunt Betty, I might not be any different than the girls who apprentice in our shop.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

  Her mind filled with the images of the creditors who’d pounded on the door, demanding payment. One had even suggested they sell her to pay her father’s debts. The hatred she’d felt for her father in that moment had been a living, breathing thing. A cloud of darkness that had taken months to cast off.

  “It was unpleasant.” She drew a breath to try to push back the memories again. Unleashing them was never a wise idea as it filled her dreams with too many scenes she’d rather forget. Nor did she think he could truly understand given the world in which he lived.

  “I wish you’d tell me more.”

  The guilt and shame she’d felt flooded back, heating her cheeks. “Let us say that all our things had to be sold in order to pay our debts.”

  “His debts.”

  She looked up at Marcus in surprise.

  “They weren’t your debts. They were his. I think that’s an important distinction.”

  She nodded. She hadn’t realized the words she’d used until now. “Yes, well, some of the creditors believed I should’ve done more to alleviate the debts.”

  His brow furrowed as though he didn’t understand.

  She choked back the shame she still felt at the thought of what had nearly happened. Maybe this would make him truly grasp where she came from. “It was suggested that I be sold to help pay them.”

  “Tessa. No.” The dismay in Marcus’s voice couldn’t come close to matching what she’d felt at the time. What still returned to haunt her in the dark of the night.

  That was why she’d vowed never to leave her future in the hands of anyone else ever again, especially a man. She was determined to make her own decisions and pick her own path. With a deep breath, she blinked back her tears. She’d shed far too many all those years ago.

  “Thanks to Aunt Betty,” she continued, “I was spared from such a fate. Since then, I do all I can to keep others from facing that.”

  “I can’t imagine what you went through. But I understand why you want to help others. I admire your courage more than you could ever know. You are amazing.”

  He pressed his lips to hers then leaned back, their gazes locked. “You are very special to me.” He looked at her as though he truly wanted her to know that then kissed her again, longer this time, his tongue moving with hers. His hand cupped her face while his other pulled her tight.

  Tessa hesitated, surprised he’d still want her after what she’d shared. All the emotion that her memories had brought to the surface flooded her, leaving her vulnerable. But Marcus’s arms held her tight, anchoring her, making her feel cherished and safe. Perhaps he was a man who could be trusted.

  “Tessa? I want to show you how much I care for you. How much I want you.” He lowered his hand to the flare of her hip, the intimacy of his touch catching her breath as he made his meaning clear. “Will you let me?”

  Her heart thundered in her chest as she drew back to look into his eyes. Never before had she been tempted to give herself to a man. Did she dare? The risks were many, but in this moment, she’d never wanted anything so much.

  She licked her lips, trying to think this through, to make certain this was the right decision.

  “Will you trust me?” he asked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  For once, Tessa listened to her heart and found the answer. “Yes. I trust you, Marcus.” And it was true. Despite the short time she’d known him, she trusted him.

  He kissed her until her head spun. Then he rose, drawing her up to stand before him, molding her body to his.

  Tessa felt as though she couldn’t get enough. Every sensation was heightened as he ran his hand along the length of her body.

  “Will you come upstairs with me?” he whispered.

  Her stomach did a long, slow roll at the thought. She nodded though nerves fluttered inside her at the possible consequences of her decision. Surely some risks were worth taking.

  Another kiss was her reward, the heat of it reassuring her. He tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her up the stairs. To her relief, they didn’t encounter any servants, nor did Aunt Betty poke her head out of her door to stop Tessa.

  Marcus opened a door at the end of the hallway a few doors down from her room and gestured for her to proceed him. The large bedroom was another impressive space decorated in golds, browns, and creams with rich brown velvet drapes covering the tall windows. A mahogany writing desk gleamed along one wall. Two chairs stood before the fireplace where flames danced cheerfully. Marcus stepped around her toward the massive four poster bed. Its old fashioned design would be well suited for a castle.

  He lit the candles on the bedside table then moved around the room, lighting several more until the room glowed with warmth. One wall displayed a tapestry that depicted a knight kneeling before a king.

  “One of your ancestors?” she asked, pointing toward it.

  “Indeed. Everywhere I go, I am reminded of where I come from. Who I come from.”

  “That must be quite a responsibility.” She couldn’t imagine how that might feel as she hadn’t known her grandparents, let alone the family that had come before them.

  “It is. But it is also an honor.” He finished lighting the candles and returned to stand before her. “As is having you here, and it is one I do not take lightly.”

  Her cheeks heated at his intense regard. “Nor do I.”

  She lifted up on her toes to kiss him, loving how he pulled her slowly closer until they touched from toes to lips and everywhere in between.

  Her body hummed with desire. All for him. It stunned her. Why he felt anything for her was difficult to understand. He was an earl—strong, powerful, and wealthy. He was handsome, intelligent, and kind. But it was his heart that drew her. The way he’d treated her, her aunt, and Sally spoke for his respect of everyone. That he cared not only about his ships’ profits, but even more about the girls and what might happen to them touched her deeply.

  In truth, he was perfect. And for tonight, he was hers. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “What is it?” he asked, returning her smile, his finger trailing along her cheek.

  “I can’t believe I’m here. With you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, reveling in the knowledge that she could and that he welcomed her doing so.

  His hands spanned her waist then ran up and down her sides. The sensation of his touch was delightful, something she would never grow weary of.

  “Nor can I. You are such a gift.” He kissed her deeply, passionately, until her head spun. His fingers lingered in places she hadn’t realized were sensitive, along her neck, near the modest edge of her gown. When his kisses followed the path of his fingers, her knees weakened.

  She reminded herself she was a woman, not a girl, yet still nerves threatened to put a hitch in her breath at the sight of his dark head so close to her breasts. She was astounded that this was happening and could hardly breathe.

  He paused to unbutton his jacket and remove it but left on the vest beneath.

  “May I?” he asked as he gestured toward her back.

  At her nod, he moved behind her to loosen the laces of her bodice, lifting it over her head. Her gown was a simple one with a modest bustle, yet still there were several layers to remove. Having a man undress her was a startling experience, but his kisses between the layers eased her nerves and kept passion simmering between them. When she stood before him in her thin chemise, she took the liberty of unfastening his vest and removing it. The intimate sight of Marcus in his white shirtsleeves stirred her even more. She ran her hands along the soft linen, admiring the feel of his muscled form beneath. While she’d often sewn men’s shirts, she’d never touched one when it was on him. It astonished her that she was doing so now.

  She s
wallowed hard as nerves threatened once again. She darted a glance at the bed, wondering if she could actually do what he wanted her to do. Would he still admire her once she’d removed her clothes? Did he realize she knew little of what happened next, other than overhearing a few conversations? What, precisely, did he expect of her?

  Tessa turned to Marcus to warn him, to explain that perhaps this was a poor idea after all as she’d surely disappoint him.

  He took her hand in his, and her stomach dipped. But rather than moving to the bed as she’d expected, he drew her toward the fire and sat in the oversized chair. With a tug, he pulled her onto his lap.

  Long, slow kisses had her worries falling away as desire poured through her. His hand on her bare calf felt lovely. She hadn’t realized how sensitive the back of her knee was. Before she had a chance to worry about where else his hand was venturing, he removed it to cup her face.

  With a sigh, she sunk into the kiss, loving the feel of his broad shoulders. She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside. The heat of him amazed her. As she shifted on his lap, she realized his manhood pressed against her. The knowledge that he desired her caused liquid heat to pool low in her belly.

  “Oh, Tessa. So beautiful. What magic is this that you weave over me?” He ran a finger along the embroidered neckline of her chemise, back and forth until she thought she’d go mad for more. At last those clever fingers dipped lower to her bare breast.

  She couldn’t help but arch back, her breasts suddenly aching. For what she wasn’t certain. When his fingers found the tip of her breast, she had her answer.

  This.

  Oh, it was glorious to feel the weight of her breast in his hand, his thumb caressing her nipple. Unbelievably glorious.

  He freed her breast from her chemise. “Perfect,” he muttered. Then he kissed her there, shocking Tessa. As he neared the tip, she caught her breath. He drew it into his mouth, sucking gently, and it was all she could do to stay on his lap. A pulsating need shot through her, making her moan.