15
Mary
The room was small and shabby. Mary knew it, and she wasn't exactly afraid to admit it, but it had seemed like it would be rude to say so in front of James. He was young, though, she thought. It wasn't as if he'd had years to make his fortune. Her eyes fell on an envelope with his name on it, and the sign of a hospital.
She shouldn't pry, it was awfully rude. But it seemed so terribly tempting, and he shouldn't be home for a little while now. After all, he'd need to go over quite a bit of material, she was sure, with the solicitor. The two of them both had quite a few questions, and James had the best hope of finding the answers.
But at the same time, the place was quite bare. She hadn't even thought to bring a book along, an oversight that she hadn't realized until she was sitting alone in the room. She couldn't go out; she hadn't any proper money, and she didn't know where a bank could be found. Certainly not her bank.
Her biggest hurdle, though, was what she was going to do when James got back, and later in the evening. She wanted to be near him, to spend time with him, but she knew that he was trying not to pursue her, and she could understand why.
She'd been in the middle of a fight, it seemed, and yet when he had come along she'd felt intensely relieved. She sat down. There would be plenty of time to sort out her feelings, later. She could smell James's scent softly as she lay in the bed, and she thought about him.
Then the doorknob turned and her heart leapt out of her chest. She heard the door open from the bedroom and snapped back up out of bed. How on earth could he be home so soon?
Mary rushed out into the front room just in time to see James slump back into a large cushioned chair. He had a blank look on his face. She wasn't sure that she should be less or more worried that he didn't look defeated. He looked…tired.
"What happened?"
He didn't answer. He didn't even look up at her, and that was when she knew that she should be more worried. Her chest felt tight, and she couldn't breathe. She couldn't think clearly. Whatever she could do, she needed to get James back to normal again. She needed him to be there for her.
If she could help, then she would, but she'd need to have the explanation from him first about what had happened at all. He looked like he was having trouble, though, with finding the words, or with finding the energy to express them.
She sat back and tried not to panic, but it was a lost fight by then.
"James!" He looked at her, but he didn't see her. "What happened with Mr. Stump?"
He slumped lower in the chair. Whatever it was, he clearly didn't want to talk about it. That wasn't an option, not for Mary and not for him.
She stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him as violently as her tiny frame would allow, throwing her full weight into it.
"Snap out of it!" She let go and nearly fell backwards onto her bottom, stumbling across the room into a bookshelf. "Snap out of it, and tell me what's going on!"
"He's gone," he answered vaguely.
"What do you mean, he's gone? Surely you can call on him at home if his office is closed, for whatever reason."
"No," James said, finally looking at her. "He's left the country. Gone to Europe. Spain, I think."
Mary had never seen him like this. He had always looked so certain, powerful and confident. Now he looked like a lost child, or like a puppy that is waiting for his master to feed him. She didn't want to, couldn't, be his master.
"What? When?"
"I don't know exactly. The landlord was there, standing guard, since the place was abandoned. Apparently, the last time anyone saw him or his staff was yesterday. Yesterday afternoon. Then the place was left emptied out of anything important or useful. Someone locked up, but I don't know if that was done later."
"What are we going to do now?"
"I don't know."
James didn't look like he wanted to give up, she realized, but he looked like someone who didn't know what could be done any more. She thought that sounded about right. Neither of them had turned up any new information since the first, and they were overdue for a win.
"We'll go back to Dover," Mary said softly. "We've made it this far, there has to be another option, and once we find it, we chase that down, as well."
James looked up. His jaw was clenched, and she could see the muscles flexing.
"We're past that, Mary. We've already done everything we could, and we've lost. Your uncle's been ahead of us every step of the way, and this has just been another in a long series of failures." He looked back into his lap, staring at the palms of his hands. When he continued, it was soft enough that Mary could barely hear. "I've failed you."
For a moment she couldn't respond. What did that mean? They could continue where they'd left off. She had the journal, and surely he'd be able to think of something, as well. If nothing else, he could go through the library, and then the master bedroom, and see if there had been any other clues left around.
They'd be able to find more clues. The more she repeated it to herself, the better it sounded.
"No," she said, firmly. "This is just temporary. We'll get by."
She started walking back across the room toward him. He looked up at her, his eyes unfocused and tired. Then she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.
He hadn't shaved in a couple of days and his stubble was scratchy, and for a moment she almost pulled away. Then he melted into her and stood up to meet her. She could feel his arms tightening around her waist, and then he lifted her easily up off the ground until she stood as tall as he.
He pulled away and Mary saw that he was already looking stronger, more self-sure, but there was doubt there, as well.
"We can't."
"We can," she said. Her fingers started working at the buttons of his waistcoat without waiting for permission "And I think I'd like to."
He smiled faintly. "No, we can't."
Mary undid the last button and pulled his waistcoat open.
"James Poole, if you don't get this corset off me, I'm never letting you back into my father's house again."
He kissed her again, hard, and she could feel the electric want that was running through him.
"If you put it that way…"
He picked her up again and carried her through the door into the bedroom, then set her down on the bed. Mary could feel her breaths coming short and hard. She could breathe in her corset, though she'd been afraid of it when she was just a girl. Most of the time.
But now, it seemed as if she couldn't take a deep enough breath to cool off the heat in her chest. He started undoing buttons on her dress, from the top down, but there were so many. She wanted it off.
Then he undid the tie on her corset and pulled it loose, then undid that as well. Her vision blacked out as she breathed in, her head tingling from the heady mix of arousal and too-much oxygen. By the time her vision came back, she could feel James's fingers on her, rubbing.
Her stomach tightened. She thought she'd been mad, before, with lust. But now she saw that had been only the tip of the iceberg, a small part of a much larger feeling. She needed him.
She reached desperately for him, and found that he was still clothed.
"That's not fair," she said softly. "I wanted to—"
James put a finger to her lips to silence her, never stopping his ministrations down below. The tightness in her belly got worse, and worse, and then something exploded behind her eyes. She came to a moment later, and reached up for James's lips.
He leaned down, reaching a hand between them to unbuckle his belt. They were pressed together and she could feel his hard want for her straining against his trousers.
"Let me help," she said softly.
She knelt down and undid his trousers, letting them fall. Then she kissed him and felt his hand on her shoulders, encouraging her further.
She felt an ache deep inside her, but she continued, taking him into her mouth. She could feel him shaking with arousal and excitement, and she smiled. This was a powerful feeling.
She stood back up and let James lay her back onto the bed. Then his hands spread her thighs, and he pressed against her entrance. She had heard this part would hurt, and she grit her teeth in preparation for the pain.
James hesitated, and she could feel it.
"If you don't want to—"
Mary opened her eyes and held a hand up to his face, strained with mixed arousal and control.
"Don't stop now, Mr. Poole, when you were doing so well."
He snorted, and then got control of himself and started working his way inside her. She could feel a stretching sensation, more and more, and she winced to try to shrug off the pain—and then he was inside her, and moving.
Deep down in her, something started setting off fireworks in her mind, spreading out from her sex to the rest of her body. The want was deep and refused to be ignored, and she didn't want to ignore it.
He moved inside her, and she clutched at him, unable to deal with the sensations, until with a deep thrust she felt another warmth spreading inside her. She could feel his weight on her, but it was good. Comforting.
She wasn't sure what was going to happen next, how they were going to deal with her family troubles, or with their relationship.
But that was later. Right now, she was happy with what she had.