Spending Christmas in Hell (Diamonds of London #8)

Chapter Twelve

December 23, 1818

Bloody hell, it’s two days until Christmas.

Timothy sat ensconced in his study, poring over the account ledgers. An idea had taken form in his mind after he’d gone on the charity errand with Ashlynn yesterday and he wanted to let it percolate a bit before he made a wild decision or even brought up a concept with Hugh. Whatever path he took, after Twelfth Night, nothing would be the same again.

Because of his wife.

Seeing those children yesterday had rocked him to his very soul. While he’d been vaguely aware there were less fortunate people in London, the fact that he usually didn’t see them in his daily life meant he could easily relegate them to the back of his mind where they were forgotten. Well, no more. What he’d experienced with them, saw how they lived, studied the state of them… He could no longer sit back and reside comfortably on his side of the line of divide.

Yet how to make a difference without giving up the life he lived? Without losing himself in the process?

There were no answers at this time, not on this problem or how he was beginning to feel about Ashlynn. The outing from yesterday had completely sent his world tip over tail and he had been in awe of her for what she did and stood for. Just knowing she felt so strongly about helping the poor, even to the detriment of her own health at times, left him marveling and wanting to learn from her, to change, both for himself and for her.

Would that make a difference to how she felt about him? Especially after he’d been an arse to her while they’d decorated the drawing room.

I’m such an idiot.

When a soft knock sounded on the door, he brought his head up. “Come in.” As the door swung open and his wife came into the room, he couldn’t help his grin. “Ashlynn.” His heartbeat accelerated upon the sight of her.

What the devil is wrong with me?

“Why are you closeted in here with your ledgers?” A hint of annoyance threaded through her voice as she glanced at his desktop. “Surely there are other things that can occupy your time? To say nothing of the fact that you should be resting in a better chair to make your back more comfortable.”

“As I said before, the counting house is how I make my living.” To be fair, he closed the ledger. Even though the idea rattling around his brain held merit and might even make her more willing to accept his position at the counting house, he kept his own council regarding that until he had a discussion with Hugh. “My back only has a dull ache left, thanks to the second dose of salve you put on it last night.” Where he’d been hard-pressed not to take her to bed at that time. “And my head only hurts if I accidentally brush my fingers over the bump.”

“I’m glad to hear you are feeling better, but no more climbing on ladders when you’re in a temper.”

“The only person who puts me in a temper is you,” he said before he thought it out.

Remarkably, she chuckled. “Are you saying that I’ve made your life hell, Dashfield?” Though her voice was a purr, her eyes flashed green fire.

“Not exactly, but you do make it interesting.” And more to the point, arousing. Even now, awareness of her tingled over his skin.

“At least I’ve made an impression.” She crossed the room, and at his desk, she came around to stand near his chair. The wild rose and sunshine scent she wore wrapped around him and oddly enough, gave him a certain level of comfort, almost as if he could breathe when she was near. “It is two days before Christmas. Leave off with the ledger books, hmm?”

“What does the date matter?” Should he tease her again, prompt her to aggravation merely so he could have the pleasure of bringing her back down from the boughs?

“It matters to me, for the clothing I’d ordered from the modiste has been delivered, which means I can now be suitably garbed for Mr. Ridgeway’s dinner party tomorrow. It’s a horrible number of parcels, but you did tell me I could.”

“Of course. I want you to have pretty things.” How darling she was in her embarrassment. And he’d forgotten about Hugh’s dinner party. “You would have looked wonderful regardless.”

“Such gammon.” She smiled and the knives in her eyes disappeared. In their place came tiny brown flecks swimming in the green irises. Had she always had those? They were damned intriguing. “My poor maid is just putting all the things away. Besides,” she met his gaze and hers sparkled with excitement, “You promised to take me to Covent Gardens this evening so we can wander the market and eat from hand carts in lieu of a proper dinner.”

How could such a little thing make her so happy? “I’m still planning on doing so. In fact, after I finished here, I was going upstairs to change my clothes.”

“Lovely!” She rested a hip against the side of his desk. “I can hardly wait.”

“Why? Covent Gardens is so trivial that going there is almost dull.” Somewhat. “However, we might be in luck and find a Christmas carnival or circus.”

“Truly?” Her eyes widened. Twin spots of color appeared on her cheeks as if she were a young child delighted by stories. “You might think it dull because you are disaffected and jaded, but I’m excited. I remember going to something similar with my father years ago. It was quite entertaining. Additionally, spending a bit of coin helps the vendors feed and clothe their families.”

“You are always thinking of others.” It was rapidly becoming one of the things he liked best about her. Hell, every servant in the townhouse thought her the most wonderful human they’d ever met.

“The world is larger than us, Dashfield. The sooner we realize that, the sooner we can make strides to help making it more beautiful.” She shrugged. “My mother taught me to revere everything on this earth and to help where we could.” For long moments, she remained quiet then she stirred. “Beyond that, going on an outing tonight means I’ll have an opportunity to wear one of the new gowns you so generously bought for me.”

What would she say when the silver moonbeam gown was delivered just in time for Christmas? Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to see her expression when that happened tomorrow. It was his own secret surprise.

“When it grows cold enough, will you also skate on the thin section of the Serpentine when it freezes?”

“I might, even though I’ve never done such a thing before.”

“I shall make certain you don’t fall.” Unable to resist, Timothy reeled her closer. “Tell me, what’s wrong with this frock?” It was the same one she’d worn at their nuptial ceremony. The deep emerald color made certain she wouldn’t be ignored, and it enhanced the hue of her eyes. “I rather like it.”

She regarded him with a bemused expression. “It’s not suitable for Covent Garden and you’ve seen this one already on our wedding day.”

“That doesn’t mean I still don’t like it.” He slung an arm about her hips and drew her toward him. “Would you like for me to show you?”

“This is hardly the place.” Though she batted his hands away, there was a certain look on her face that suggested she would welcome his advances.

“Are you quite sure?”

“Why?” Blatantly, she roved her bright gaze up and down his person. “Do you have something scandalous in mind?”

“Perhaps.” With a glance to the partially open door, he pushed caution aside. She was his wife, damn it, and if he chose to devil the hell out of her in his own study, he should be able to do exactly that. “You tempt me beyond measure, Linnie.” The use of that nickname might not have been wise, but it did soften her expression, and when he stood, swept her into his arms, and claimed her lips with his, she didn’t offer any sort of resistance.

When she looped her arms about his shoulders, common sense fled, for she felt all to right in his embrace. It took very little coaxing for her lips to part. The second his tongue touched hers and the glide of satin and silk made the connection with his brain, Timothy was lost. Repeatedly, he fenced with her, explored her mouth, tangled with her tongue as if he were but a green youth who’d encouraged a girl to finally kiss him.

Ashlynn gave him as good as she got, and it seemed her confidence in this arena had grown since the last time he’d kissed her. Needing so much more, he claimed her mouth again and again until he didn’t know which way was up or down. There was only her. As his shaft grew and tightened, the insistent pulse of that organ pressed tight into the front of his breeches, and desperate to alleviate the tension, he ground his hips into hers. That provided only a modicum of relief, and if anything sent more intense need pinwheeling through the length.

Clearly, that one quick coupling a few nights ago hadn’t been enough.

As a tiny mewl escaped her, followed by a barely audible moan, the last vestiges of his sanity fled. She nibbled and nipped at his bottom lip then left his mouth entirely to press featherweight kisses beneath his jaw. When she found a particularly sensitive spot, desire exploded through his body. That one spark they’d shared at the beginning had now grown into this strong, invisible connection that was becoming more difficult to deny.

What the devil are you doing to me, Ashlynn?

There were no answers, not in that moment where he was consumed with heat and passion and want, at least no answers he wished to dwell on right now. Those required much more thought. Hefting her upward with his hands at her hips, Timothy then planted her bottom upon his desk. A ledger and a few books tumbled to the thick carpeting with a dull thud.

He didn’t care and couldn’t be bothered.

As he encouraged her backward over his desk and settled himself between her splayed thighs, he dragged his lips down the side of her silky throat.

“Timothy, please.”

The plea bounced through his mind. “I’m trying.” As he manipulated the laces at the back of her gown until the bodice of her plain gown gaped and he could finally tug it down to bare her exquisite breasts, she sighed. Ashlynn, though, was quite a willing participant, for she had his cravat undone in a thrice. Her lips were at the hollow of his throat, her breath steaming the skin of his chest she’d uncovered, and the sensations further worked to drive him toward the brink.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to join with my wife.

Was there?

Desire guided him; he no longer thought with caution. It was all too easy to cup her pert breasts, knead the soft flesh, and when a moan pulled from her throat, he grinned against her mouth and brushed the pads of his thumbs over the rapidly hardening nipples. Damn but the pebbled surface of those tips was both inviting and tempting. As her back arched the longer he played, Timothy took one of those tempting buds into his mouth.

And it was the closest to heaven he could be just now.

“Yes!” The low-pitched utterance spurred him onward. While he continued to torment the nipple with his lips and teeth, he teased the other with his thumb. Would that he could lay her out on the desk and divest her of the clothes to better kiss every centimeter of her skin, feel the heat of her on his fingers, yet they hadn’t closed that damned door. “I need more…” Her words dissolved beneath another moan of pleasure. “Ah, oh yes, do that again.”

Christ but he adored how responsive she was, how she found enjoyment from the smallest things. His little innocent was certainly not that any longer, but only just. A chuckle escaped as he again flicked his tongue over that taut, tempting tip. Urgency tingled through his hardened length as well as his stones. There was nothing else he’d rather do than claim her body, but he truly didn’t want Hopewell to co me along and find them engaged thusly. Ashlynn writhed from the attention. As he moved to take her other nipple into his mouth, the clearing of a masculine voice at the door invaded all the carnal thoughts in his head.

Surely it must have been his imagination.

When he slipped one hand beneath her skirting, the sound came again, and Ashlynn glanced over her shoulder.

“Timothy.”

“Mmm?” It would be such a simple thing to shove up her skirting, dip his head down, and lick her honeyed heat.

“Timothy!” She shoved at his shoulder. “The door.”

The throat clearing came a third time, and finally he looked that way. “Bloody hell.” There was naught he could do, for his wife was quite literally spread out on the desk before him. A swath of irrational anger cut through his chest. “What is it, Hopewell?" This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen.

To his credit, the older man trained his gaze to something in the corridor, half turned away from the study. “A Mr. Badger has come to call, sir. Says he is one of your clients.”

“Of course I know who he is,” Timothy snapped as he eased into an upright position and took Ashlynn with him to at least shield her breasts from scrutiny. “I’ll be down directly.”

“Very good. He is in the blue parlor.” Then the butler left the area at a much faster walk than usual.

“Damn interruption.” In some annoyance, he met his wife’s gaze. “I’m sorry. It seems our adventure of the afternoon isn’t to be after all.” He helped her off the desk. “Bloody Mr. Badger has probably come to tell me he doesn’t have the rent money.” And for that, he wasn’t able to couple with his wife?

“Hush, now. There will be other times.” After tugging her bodice into place, she laid a hand on his arm. “Give him latitude, Dashfield. It’s the season of mercy and miracles.” Then she presented her back. “Do me up.”

He grunted as he tightened the laces. “What if I show that to all my clients? You and I will be out in the street.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” When she turned, she slipped her arms around his shoulders. Her brilliant eyes implored him to understand. “We would be together. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Again, the sensation of falling, tumbling assailed him. “It does, of course, but that only means if we’re in the gutter, there won’t be any more of what nearly happened on my desk.” After brushing his lips over hers, he set her away, for it would be all too tempting to forget about the world and lose himself in her. “Now, go abovestairs and choose a gown for tonight. I promise that I won’t cause Mr. Badger any undo strain.”

“I trust you.”

He nodded as he went across the room. “I won’t disappoint you.” Of that he was certain.