Fifteen
THE RETURN TRIP to Gladstone couldn’t have been more uncomfortable.
On the train, Cowasj kept glowering at Pearl, and after the heated kiss with Christopher, her lips tickled, and the darn throb between her legs seemed to sense Christopher’s closeness. Every time he inched towards her, the throb intensified. Once the excitement of the kiss had faded, and clear, cool logic washed over her, she wondered if the choice to go back to Gladstone had been the right one.
Christopher flashed a timid smile and adjusted his position in the seat. She smiled back. Anxiety tightened her stomach in knots, and she wasn’t any closer to discovering what happened to her father. But then again, alone and hiding from the police, she wouldn’t find anything new while if she stayed at Gladstone, Christopher might tell her more.
Oh, well, who was she fooling? She wanted to stay with him because she liked him, not just because he could give her information. She wanted to stay with him because she burned to be in his bed with him.
Once at Gladstone, Cowasj headed for the stable, blathering something about needing to exercise. He didn’t even greet her properly. Not that she cared. Provoking the prince was the last thing she needed.
The cool air of the foyer hit her heated skin when she entered Gladstone Manor. Feminine screams and incoherent shouts ricocheted off the walls. Thuds and noises thumped from upstairs.
Cristopher paused at the base of the sweeping staircase. “What’s happening?”
An angry, male voice resounded.
“That’s Benedict.” Grabbing a fistful of her skirts, Pearl ran up the stairs.
As she approached the landing, the irate voice of Mrs Armstrong thundered, followed by Julia’s pitiful whimpers.
Christopher brought up the rear in his uneven gait.
“I’ll send a wire to your parents immediately!” Anger filled Mrs Armstrong’s words.
“Oh, God.” Julia sobbed. “Please, don’t.”
Pearl sped up. The voice came from the bathroom at the end of the corridor.
“I thought you had more judgement, girl.” The fire in Mrs Armstrong’s voice could’ve burned the house.
Pearl skidded to a stop on the bathroom’s threshold. The clicking noise of Christopher’s walking stick sounded closer.
Pearl’s mouth hung. In the wide enamelled bathtub, Julia and Benedict lay together, soaking wet like ducklings, and stark naked. Her black hair was plastered over her naked shoulders, and she covered her bare breasts with her crossed arms. Benedict sat in a corner, a deep frown marring his face. Only his chest was visible, but the red bite-marks on his skin spoke of a lot of activity.
Steam fogged the mirror and the room. Scented candles were scattered around, and the smell of jasmine soap damped the air. It was a lovely, romantic setting, if it weren’t for a furious Mrs Armstrong that looked like a giant raven with its feathers raffled.
“What is the meaning of this?” Christopher sidestepped Pearl and barged into the room.
Gasps rose from Julia as she curled into a ball.
“Perfect.” Benedict threw a hand up, spraying water around.
Mrs Armstrong jolted, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. She pointed an accusatory finger at the naked couple. “This is unacceptable. Your friend has ensnared one of my charges.”
Tears streamed down Julia’s reddened cheeks.
“For God’s sake.” Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose.
Sorrow for poor Julia soured Pearl’s mouth. She could understand the temptation of doing wild, sensual things with a man she was attracted to.
She rushed to grab a towel and draped it around Julia’s shivering shoulders. “There.”
Julia’s bottom lip trembled. “Thank you.”
Mrs Armstrong shook a fist. “I won’t tolerate—”
“That’s enough.” Christopher’s sharp voice cut the air. “Would you please leave the bathroom, so that Julia and Benedict can put some clothes on?” He held the door open and shot a hard stare at Mrs Armstrong.
