What on earth was she going to do? If he saw her now, he would know she’d been deceiving him all along. He might hate her for it.
“Feeling better?” Finn called through the door, which he’d opened to a crack.
“Much,” she assured him. Well, the shivering had stopped. “I don’t know why I did that. That has never happened before.”
“It’s a very normal reaction.”
“Has it ever happened to you?”
“In varying stages, yes. There are a lot of emotions that accompany death, particularly when one is relieved it’s not one’s own life that was lost.”
***
Finn leaned his head on the doorjamb. It could have been her. It could have been Claire. If he hadn’t been there to catch her getting into that carriage, she would have gone to that masked ball, and Mayden could have killed her. The fear of losing her settled in his gut and rolled around like a cat in a sack.
“Finn,” Claire called. “Do you have a housemaid who could help me wash this tint from my hair?”
Not at this time of the night. “I’ll come and do it,” he replied as he pushed the door open and walked into the room.
Good God, she was pretty sitting here, her hair curling with the steam of her bath. She’d pulled all the pins from it and draped it over the lip of the tub. She sat forward as he approached, and drew her knees closer to her chest. “Finn!” she cried. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Oh, I promise not to look.” He was lying. But he didn’t feel even the least bit of remorse about it. He planned to look his fill. He planned to take in every dip and curve of her body. He wasn’t sending her home this night. Not a chance in hell.
She’d nearly died, for God’s sake. He’d nearly lost her.
Finn divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and he jerked free his cravat and tugged it off his neck. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and dropped to one knee beside her. Her skin was rosy and pink, her cheeks flushed with the heat of the bath. Tiny tendrils of hair had begun to spiral at her forehead and around her ears. He would be glad when that dreadful tint was gone and her strawberry blond hair would be back.
Finn picked up a pail and put it beneath the fall of her hair. Then he picked up a rinse bucket and leaned over her. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, not looking him in the eye as she leaned back. She kept her eyes closed, and as she lay back, her breasts rose above the water. But he wasn’t here to ogle her body. He was here to wash her hair.
Finn slowly and carefully wet her hair with the rinse water and then soaped her tresses gently. “I don’t think it’s all going to come out,” he warned. He massaged her scalp, letting his fingernails gently abrade her skin. She made a sound of contentment as he rinsed the soap from her hair. He hadn’t realized how very long it was when it was wet. When it was dry, it was springy and curly, and looked luxuriously perfect.
“Feeling better?” he asked as he sat down next to the bath and laid his arm along the side. She sat forward again, hiding the shadow of her breasts behind her knees.
“Better,” she said. “Thank you.”
Her teeth were no longer chattering, and most of that god-awful red was out of her hair.
And she was naked.
Gloriously naked.
Sinfully naked.
And Finn was aroused beyond bearing. “Would you like some help with your bath?” he asked and waggled his eyebrows at her.
She laughed lightly. “I think I can finish the rest on my own. Can you give me a little privacy?”
“Must I?” Finn didn’t mean to beg. But he wasn’t above it either.
“I just need a moment,” she said.
Finn left a stack of towels within her reach and hung his dressing gown over the back of the door.
“Thank you,” she called to his retreating back.
***
Claire had no idea what the right thing to do was. She needed to tell him about the baby. She would have to if he wanted to be intimate with her that night. And if the bulge behind the fall of his trousers was any indication, that was what he had in mind.
What should she do? Should she ask him to take her home? Should she ask him to sit and then tell him? He might be so surprised he’d fall over and crack his head on the floor. He might have an apoplexy. He might hate her forever.
Claire washed quickly and climbed from the tub. She wrung the water from her hair, and then flipped her hair over, wrapped it in a towel, and righted herself. She blotted herself dry with a second towel and slipped into his dressing gown.
When Claire walked back into his bedchamber, she found him reclining on a chaise longue before the fire. He called her over with a quick motion of his hand. He looked up at her from beneath heavy-lidded lashes. “I must confess that my plans were innocent when I brought you here.”
“And now?” she asked as she sat down on the edge of the chaise. He shifted to the side to give her room.
“My plans are no longer innocent.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged down a gravel drive. “Come here,” he said as he spread his thighs and pulled her between them, and then pulled the towel from her hair, combing it gently with his fingertips before he drew her forward to lie on his chest.
“I’m going to get you all wet,” she warned.
Finn sat forward and jerked his shirt over his head, and then pulled her forward. “I want to hold you,” he said, his voice raw and full of emotion. He kissed her forehead gently. “I could have lost you tonight.”
Claire’s soul hummed as he held her against him.
“Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again, do you hear me?”
She heard him, but she couldn’t possibly comply with his wishes. Not in this matter.
Claire was naked beneath his dressing gown, and she’d never been more aware of her skin than she was at that moment. Goose flesh rose on her arms and chest, and her nipples were hard points against the soft fabric of his dressing gown. Finn tipped her face up and touched his lips softly to hers.
“I wish I could marry you tonight,” he murmured as his tongue teased her lips open, just before he dipped inside. Claire met the greedy thrusts of his tongue, and he moaned low in his throat. He leaned back and looked down at her, emotion brimming in his eyes. “If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Claire scooted up onto her knees and laid her upper body against his naked chest. With her hands on his shoulders, she lifted herself until she was nose to nose with him. “Ouch,” Finn said, as her knee brushed the rigid curve of his manhood behind his trousers.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling back a little.
Finn adjusted her body, pulling his legs together as he spread her thighs over his lap, setting one knee on each side of him. His robe was still closed about her waist, but Claire looked down to find that it gaped open at the top, and spread widely at the bottom, pulling tight across her hips. Finn sat forward and growled, just before he reached into the vee at the neck of the robe and pushed it wide around her breasts. He stared down at them for a moment, his mouth open wide, then he nudged her higher and brought her left breast to his lips.
Claire’s breath caught when he gently tongued the rigid peak, and she squirmed to get closer to him. The ridge of his manhood pressed against her aching cleft. Claire spread her legs wider and snuggled down closer to him.
“Just a minute,” he warned as he reached between them and unbuttoned the fall of his trousers. He pulled the turgid length of himself free and then tugged her knees forward, pulling her tighter against him. “God, Claire, you’re going to unman me.”
Finn’s hands gripped her naked bottom tightly, kneading the tender flesh, as he brought her forward to slide back and forth along his length. Claire could see the tip of his erection as it shimmered in the firelight, moving back and forth, but not sliding inside. “Plea
se, Finn,” she murmured against his lips.
Claire reached between them and took his erection in her fist. She pointed him toward the core of her, the part that wept with want for him. “Claire,” he moaned.
Claire wasn’t certain what to do.
Finn sucked her earlobe between his lips and suckled it gently. His fingertips slid up to the pointy tip of her ear and back down. “Put me inside you,” he said, his voice low by her ear. Where his voice was broken before, it was volcanic now. It was full of heat and want. “Put me inside you, Claire.”
Finn bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth again as his other hand strummed at the other breast. Claire’s slit wept with need, and his manhood was shiny wet with his strokes against her cleft. But this was not enough. She ached. She needed him.
“Take me inside, Claire,” he ground out.
Claire took him in her fist again and pulled his manhood away from his body, aiming it toward that pulse that pounded so loudly inside her. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. She chuckled, a weak sound, and laid her forehead against his naked chest.
Finn took himself in one hand and raised her bottom a little with the other. His hardness pressed at her softness and the tip of him slid inside. Claire stilled as he filled her just that much. He didn’t advance. He stayed still as a statue, with just the crown of his manhood inside her.
Then he pulled her forward and down all at the same time, filling her in one solid stroke. Claire cried out. He filled her completely and totally. Claire looked down between them and saw through the slit in the dressing gown that he was indeed buried to the hilt inside her. “Mine,” he said.
“Yes,” she breathed. Then she rocked forward. She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Not at all. But the noise that left his lips told her it was good.
He was hard as iron inside her, and his hands firmly gripped her buttocks, rocking her back and forth. He pulled her hard onto himself, and Claire thrilled when he began to push her back and pull her forward and down until she was riding his manhood. His rhythm grew more forceful, and Claire took up some of it with her knees and her hands on his shoulders. When she was moving freely on him, he pulled one hand away from her bottom and touched the place between her thighs that he’d rubbed so well and so forcefully before, the place that had made her shatter and break into a million pieces.
He strummed his finger across that aching little bundle of nerves, and Claire’s legs began to shake as tension built within her. It was like water pushing at a dam. With enough force, the dam would break. And so would she.
“Does that feel good, Claire?” he asked. His voice in her ear made her sheath clench around him and he groaned loudly, biting his lower lip between his teeth. His face was a mask of emotion. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Claire,” he groaned.
“Finn,” Claire cried as his fingers and his manhood pumping inside her pushed her toward that precipice.
“Claire,” he ground out. “I need to come. I’m going to come so deep inside you. I like the way you wrap around me and squeeze me. And I want to feel you squeeze my manhood when you come. I want to feel the ripples of sensation as you reach the peak with me.”
His fingers pushed harder against that special place as she continued to ride him. Claire lost her breath as he continued to talk to her. To tell her how much he liked her riding him, how much he liked having her on top of him. How much he liked having her be in control of how fast or slow he took her. “I am yours to do with as you will. But I need for you to come, Claire.”
Claire cried out as the waves of sensation crashed over her. She stilled on top of him and rocked with the waves of her release, and he grunted beneath her and began to pulse within her. His release was a hot wash of fluid, almost as powerful as hers. She pulsed around his manhood, and he grunted and groaned as he said dirty things in her ear. She didn’t know what many of them meant, but he said them with such power and force as he emptied his seed inside her that she continued to pulse. Her culmination wasn’t complete. It was ongoing. And when he’d finally wrung all the pleasure from her and stilled beneath her, the warm wash of his spending leaked between then.
“Don’t move, Claire,” he said. “I’ll get something to clean us up. I’m afraid you’re a mess.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, but she really didn’t care. She’d just rode his manhood until they’d both found that sweet release. She’d just taken him. All of him. And he’d given all of himself back to her. He reached for the towel he’d pulled from her hair and brought it down between them.
“Be still, Claire,” he warned as he slipped out of her. “Claire, are you having your menses?” he asked.
“What?”
“You’re bleeding, Claire,” he warned. He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind. But it would have been good to know.” He chuckled.
Claire looked down between them and her heart leaped into her throat. She was bleeding. Her blood bathed his manhood, mixed with his seed. “Oh God, Finn,” she cried. She scuttled back from him, placing a hand over her belly where their child lay. “Something is wrong, Finn,” she cried. Tears pricked at the backs of her lashes. “Something is wrong. Call for a physician. Do it now!”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that, Claire,” he said.
“Now, Finn,” she screamed. “Call for a physician. Now!”
“Claire,” he warned. He got to his feet and approached her. But she didn’t let him touch her. He didn’t let her get away, however, and pulled her into him. “Don’t fret.”
A sob shook her frame.
“Claire, what is it?”
“I need a physician. Now.”
“All right,” he said.
***
Something was wrong. Claire was frantic. She sobbed against his chest, her tears wetting the front of his shirt as her body heaved with sobs.
“I’ll call for the physician. Do you want me to call anyone else?”
“My mother,” she said. “I need my mother.”
“All right,” he said, and he ran from the room to get a servant. He would send for the physician and send for her mother, and then he would find out what the devil was wrong with her. She was frantic for a reason. He just didn’t know what it was.
Twenty-Seven
Claire was tucked beneath the counterpane on Finn’s bed when her mother arrived. She’d managed to stop the frantic sobbing. And she didn’t appreciate the whimpers her crying had left behind. Finn stood across the room and looked down at her. He’d donned a clean shirt and tucked it into his breeches, but he didn’t come any closer. Every time he tried, Claire cried even more. Finally, the door opened and her mother stepped through. Her auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she wore a day dress that was buttoned wrong.
“Claire,” she said as she walked into the room.
But Claire felt a sob rise within her again. Her mother quickly searched the room until she found Finn. “Could you give us a moment?” her mother asked.
“I want to know what’s wrong.”
“So do I, but I have a feeling she’ll be more likely to tell me if you leave the room.”
“I’m going to marry her. I’m not going anywhere. Talk of menses and natural functions will not frighten me.”
Finn went and sat in a chair in the corner as Claire’s mother approached the bed. She sat down and pulled Claire into her arms. “What’s wrong, Claire?” she asked.
There was blood on the towel by the bed. “Did he hurt you?” Claire’s mother asked.
“I’m bleeding,” Claire sobbed.
Her mother struggled not to laugh. “Honey, that’s what happens when it’s the first time. It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” Claire wailed. Then she leaned forward and whispered to her mother. “This wasn’t my firs
t time. My first time was several months ago, and I’m with child.”
Her mother’s mouth fell open, and remorse didn’t begin to describe what Claire felt.
“Did you call for the physician?” her mother barked at Finn.
“Yes, he’s on the way,” Finn replied. He sat forward in the chair and placed his elbows on his knees. “What’s wrong?”
Claire’s mother tucked her in more tightly behind the counterpane. She crooned to her as she stroked the side of her face. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
The physician came in and shooed everyone from the room, including her mother. Claire squirmed under his gentle probing as he listened, manipulated, probed, and prodded her. He finally looked up, pulled the counterpane back up, and tucked it beneath her arms. “Everything will be fine, I think.”
“It will?” Claire whispered, hope swelling within her.
“I believe so. These things are rather common at this stage.”
“I’ve never heard anyone mention any such a thing.”
“Because old wives usually don’t talk of such things to young, unmarried ladies.”
Heat crept up Claire’s cheeks. “I see.”
“Shall we bring Lord Phineas in and give him the good news?”
Claire chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t know.”
“Is he the father?” The man began to pack his tools and implements back inside his case.
“Of course. We’re to be married.”
“Yet he didn’t know about the pregnancy.”
“Not yet.”
“I believe you’re past the point of no return now.”
Claire nodded. “I know.
The physician went to the door and opened it, and Finn and Claire’s mother came back into the room. But this time, Finn sat down on the side of the bed to comfort her.
The physician spoke. “Congratulations, Lord Phineas,” he said. “You’re to be a father.”
***
Finn choked. Like a dolt, he choked on his own spittle. The physician clapped him on the back with a laugh. “It’s not as bad as all that,” he said. “The babe is all right. I suggest that she stay in bed for at least a sennight, and then I’ll come back to check on her to see how things are progressing.”