Page 25 of The Virgin and the Viscount

“No, there is more.” She paused, wondering briefly if she should continue. Could she trust him with this secret? It wasn’t merely hers to keep. Lady Somersby had suggested they share this with their husbands. She decided that if he revealed her secret, it would gain him nothing. Yes, she would tell him everything. “You see, that is merely the charade we hide beside. The group does so much more.” She found herself sitting on the edge of her seat, eager to tell him, hopeful he’d be enthralled and impressed with her skills.

She had no great beauty. No grace. No wiles with which to beguile men. But she did have this. She was good at this. And Sullivan had been a soldier. Maybe, just maybe, this might be common ground for them. After all, Lord Somersby supported Lady Somersby. Sometimes he even helped train the Ladies of Virtue. Their passion for justice and the betterment of society was something they shared.

She had no illusions that Sullivan would ever love her, but perhaps they could be partners in this one way.

“We have all been specially trained and we are skilled in capturing thieves and whatnot from the streets of London. There are even some members who have been able to do much more in terms of saving servants from lords who abuse them.”

His eyelids fluttered closed and for the briefest instant, she got the feeling this was not the answer he had wanted.

When he looked at her again it was with a clenched jaw and stern frown. “You have fought thieves? On the streets of London? You, personally?”

“Well, not precisely fought. You’d be surprised how quickly they’ll drop a bauble they’ve just swiped when you aim a particularly sharp hatpin at them.” She laughed, but quickly that laugh died in her throat when she took note of his expression. Dark and guarded. There was nothing impressed in his face. The muscles in his jaw ticked.

He came to his feet. “You will cease your activities with them at once. That is not safe. And I will not knowingly allow you to put yourself in danger.”

Her heart plummeted. “What? You cannot possibly be serious.”

“I am quite serious, Matilda,” he said.

Anger lit in her belly and she jumped to her feet. Her ears pounded and she clenched her fists because what she wanted to do was pound on his chest. How dare he! “I didn’t even have to tell you any of this, but I wanted to be honest now that we’re married.”

“And I appreciate that you are forthcoming. Now I’m being honest with you and forbidding you from continuing.”

She had to stop herself from stomping her foot. This is when her mother would tell her to hold her tongue, that disagreeing with a man, especially one’s husband, was not only inappropriate, but also unbecoming. At the moment, though, she didn’t care at all if Sullivan found her becoming or not. “You cannot forbid me!”

“Actually, I can. It is within my rights as your husband.”

“Your precious Agnes is a member, too! Did you know that? She even designs our weapons. What do you have to say about that?”

“I say she’s her husband’s problem, not mine.” He moved closer to her, loomed over her. “There will be no more of this apprehending of thieves and other dangerous activities!”

She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “And if I refuse?”

He closed the distance between them, so much so that she could feel the warmth coming off his body. “If you refuse, I shall put you over my knee and teach you a lesson. Punish you for disobedience.”

She sucked in a breath and took a step backward. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His brown eyes flashed with something she couldn’t identify. “Try me.”

“My father never even did such a thing.” Her breathing had become erratic and her skin felt hot and prickly. She was angry, yet there was something else there, too. A dark promise of something forbidden. Tingles unfurled in her belly and coiled downward. Did husbands normally spank their wives? She certainly couldn’t ask her friends. And despite her anger, she couldn’t ignore the hot wave of desire that swam through her. She found herself looking at Sullivan’s big hands, his long nimble fingers. She swallowed.

He looked down at her—his eyes an endless pool of molten chocolate—wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her flush to his body.

“You are my wife, Tilly, and therefore my responsibility. It is my duty to keep you safe. Do not test me in this because I will not allow it.” His eyes flared and then he turned and walked away, leaving her trembling with confusion and desire.

Chapter Five

Sullivan slammed the adjoining door between their two bedchambers and closed his eyes. What the hell was the matter with him? He’d nearly kissed her, wanted to put his hands and mouth all over her. But he couldn’t be that aggressive with his innocent, virginal bride. If he hurt her, he’d never forgive himself. Not only that, but he didn’t want to frighten her.

Then he rolled his eyes. She hadn’t seemed the least bit afraid of him and his commands of her. But he’d be damned if he stood by and allowed his wife to put herself in harm’s way like that. It was ridiculous. He was pleased she’d been honest with him considering he’d already known of her affiliation with the group. But he’d hoped she’d see reason and agree to his demands.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and went about changing his clothes to go riding. What he needed right now was to get out from under the same roof as his tempting wife. Why the devil had he threatened to spank her? He’d never before considered putting a hand to a woman to punish her, but damned if her plucky attitude and spitfire mouth hadn’t challenged him.

Or what?

She’d wanted to know. It had been the only thing he could think of. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he’d regretted them. Until he’d seen the blatant desire simmering in her eyes, the way her chest had rapidly pulsed with her breaths.

Damnation. That look, her parted lips, the ruddy stain on her cheeks, the change in her breathing; she’d wanted him. He’d had to leave, though, before he’d taken her right there on the floor, or up against the wall, because he didn’t think he would have been capable of taking his time. Even now his cock was a pipe against his leg; heavy and throbbing. He stopped in the midst of dressing and moved quickly to his bed and lay back, unfastening his trousers and pulling himself out. He gripped hard, fisting himself with an almost viselike hold.

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