By the time Gabby, Fergus, and Parker, left the house, it was after two. Belinda had been surprised to see Parker arrive with them.

“Isn’t there such a thing as an exclusive story?” she’d asked Gabby.

“That’s an easy one,” Gabby said. “I’m going to put my story in the morning paper, and he’s holding his until the afternoon.”

“My editor won’t be happy with me, but we’ll work through his anger,” Parker said.

They talked about the events, and Belinda made sure to keep her mouth shut about Alice’s prediction that someone was going to die. She might tell Gabby about it later, but she didn’t want Parker to hear it. It was a sensational part of the night’s events, and she didn’t want it to be in the newspaper.

Of course both reporters had asked about the fact that Belinda and Jonathan planned on getting married.

“I don’t think you should put that in the story until we’ve had time to talk with our parents,” Belinda had said. Jonathan had remained silent on the fact, and when she’d looked at him, he’d just shrugged as if he didn’t care which way the announcement went. Belinda hoped they didn’t see it as permission to say they were engaged.

Now, as they climbed the stairs to the bedroom, Belinda wondered about what might happen tomorrow.

“I don’t think we should announce it just yet,” she said as they entered the bedroom. “We should wait and see how society accepts me after the upcoming events with Victor.”

“I could give a rat’s ass about what society thinks,” Jonathan said as he shrugged out of his vest—he’d already taken off his jacket downstairs—and tossed it onto a chair. “Besides, I think it’s a bit late for that. From what you told me every woman in the shop today—wait, yesterday—overheard the conversation. We are as good as married to them. And when you think about it, it makes your objection moot.”

“I understand that, but…”

“No more buts, Belinda. The conversation is over. Hurry and get that dress off before I tear it off. You know I’m capable.”

“Then you’d have two dresses to replace,” she said.

“Don’t argue with me,” he said. “Now, shall I rip it off or call for Merry?”

“Let her sleep,” she said. “Now, about this marriage being in print. I really think…”

“Enough, Belinda.”

“But what if…”

“I said, enough.”

“The others think…”

“Bend over the bed.”

“What?” She took a step back and stared at him.

“Bend. Over. The. Bed.”

“You can’t mean to spank me. Just for having a conversation?”

“I can and I will. Just a small one, to remind you that as your future husband I will not allow you to argue with me. Call me old-fashioned, but in private, I’m the boss. You have no worries anymore, Belinda. I will take care of this business, and we will wed and be happy. Now, do as you’re told.”

Belinda crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. She wanted to tell him to go to the devil, but she knew it would do no good. She took off her clothing, down to her corset, and then bent over the bed as he’d instructed.

A tingle of excitement crept up her spine.

“Stay in that position and I’ll be right back,” he said.

She turned her head enough to watch him walk to her dressing table and pick up her hairbrush.

“Not again. Jonathan, please.”

“Hush,” he said. He rubbed the wood on her bottom, and she tensed.

“I thought I was going to…” Her words drifted off as he tossed the brush onto the bed, grabbed her hips and filled her completely.

The idea of the spanking must have excited her just a bit, because she was so wet he easily slid inside her. He grasped her hips and fucked her hard. Belinda grasped the bedding under her and relished the feel of him inside her. It had been so long since she’d had sex, and to have it now, twice in one day, was almost more than she could take. Once again he hit all the right spots, and from this position she didn’t need to have pressure on her clitoris. He pumped and thrust until the room spun, and when it stopped spinning she realized it must have done the same for him, because he was flat on top of her, and he’d stropped thrusting.

He kissed her shoulder and said, “You may be the death of me. I think I’ve lost all control of my body.”

She giggled and thrust back at him. “But you’re so young. I’m not sure I want a husband who can’t have sex twice in one day without collapsing on top of me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “After I take a small nap.”

The small nap turned into a longer sleep, and when Merry knocked on the door at eight, Belinda yelled at her to go away.

“But Milady, the police are here,” she said through the door.

Belinda sat up straight in bed, and Jonathan did the same thing. “Don’t come down,” she said. “They don’t need to know you are here.”

“They probably already do, but I think you’re right that it’s best if I stay here.” He got up and splashed water on his face. “I’ll get dressed and go out the back. Then I’ll come in the front. It’s trite, and I’m sure they’ll see right through it, but who cares, really.”

Who cared indeed, Belinda wanted to ask. Her reputation was already in tatters, but she thought that maybe her upcoming marriage to Jonathan would make things better. It would just go downhill again if people thought they were spending nights together before the wedding.

When she came into the sitting room the two men introduced themselves as Officer Caine and Officer Gregory. They did not give their first names. One of them held the Sentinel in his hands.

“We’d like to speak with you about the article in this morning’s newspaper,” Caine said. “And about the idea that your late husband is actually not your late husband.”

“Gentlemen, may I offer you tea?” she asked as she indicated they should sit back down. While they waited she pointed at the newspaper Caine had in his hand. “I’m afraid I have not seen this morning’s edition. You caught me still abed.”

“So it would seem,” Caine said as he handed her the paper. She scanned the headline. No Contact With Lord Strauss, the top headline screamed. Under it in smaller type were the words, Does This Mean the Lord is Not Dead?

“What do you know about the possibility that Lord Strauss faked his death?” Gregory asked.

“Not a thing,” she said. “In my mind my husband died and left me in debt.”

“And you became a well-known courtesan,” Gregory said.

Belinda stiffened. “I became a mistress,” she said. “I did not offer myself to many men, but to one until the situation was over. I object to your use of the term courtesan.”

“My apologies,” Gregory said, even as he shrugged as if to say a courtesan and a mistress were the same thing.

“Tell me about last night,” Caine said. “I understand from the local bobbies that it was quite a row.”

Belinda sipped her tea slowly and related the events from the prior evening, taking care to leave out the part where Alice said someone would die.

“Seems like a well-planned theatrical performance,” Caine said. “Why did you do it?”

“We did not expect the information to be released in the newspaper,” she said.

“I find that very doubtful, seeing as how the owner is one of your friends,” Caine said. “But let’s get back to the idea of your husband faking his death.”

The door to the sitting room opened and Jonathan came in. He looked as if he’d just woken from a restful sleep. “I wanted to check on you as quickly as possible, my love,” he said. He stopped short and frowned in the officers’ direction. “And who are you?”

The two men stood and introduced themselves. Jonathan crossed the room and hugged Belinda close to him. “I was worried about you,” he said loud enough for them to hear. I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, darling,” she said. She poured him a cup of tea and he sat down next to her.

“We were just talking with Lady Strauss about the possibility that her husband is not dead,” Caine said. “Do you know anything about it?”

“Not a thing,” Jonathan said. “Last night’s séance was an attempt to contact his ghost, and was unsuccessful.”

“It turned into quite a melee,” Gregory said. “Seems a bit shameful, actually.”

“We had not expected such a crowd,” Jonathan said.

“When was the last time you had contact with your husband, Lady Strauss?” Caine looked at her as if she’d just stolen the royal jewels.

“Ten years ago, when he died,” she said.

“When he supposedly died,” Caine said. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

“Mr. Caine, I am offended by what you are suggesting.”

“And what am I suggesting, Lady Strauss?”

“That my husband has been alive this whole time, and I had to degrade myself by offering my body to men so I could survive?” She wanted to reach across the room and slap the smug look off his face. “How dare you suggest that I think so little of myself that I would commit adultery, and for what reason? To give the funds to my supposedly dead husband?”

Jonathan put his hand on her knee. “Darling, I’m sure that’s not what they are suggesting. Is it, gentlemen?”

Both men stammered out noes, and of course nots before they reached for their teacups. Belinda wondered what would happen when—if—they found out the truth. She leaned into Jonathan, feeling as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

“One of the morgue workers admits to taking a bribe from your husband to declare that an unclaimed body found in the Thames was actually Lord Strauss,” Caine said. “Do you know anything about that?”

“No,” she said.

“Do you know where your sister is?” he asked.

That question shocked her. If they were asking about Gloria they knew something, surely. She decided to stick as close to the truth as possible.

“The last I heard she was living in Paris,” Belinda said. “She had a falling out with our parents, as did I, and she moved to Paris. She and I were not close, and we have not kept up, so I have no idea where she is.”

“Your father says the same thing,” Caine said.

Belinda didn’t have to feign her shock. “You’ve spoken to my father? I haven’t seen him since Strauss’ funeral.”

“He says the same thing,” Caine said. “He is here in town, staying at the Bell and Whistle.”

“Where is that?” Belinda asked. She looked toward Jonathan, who shrugged.

“It’s a hotel and public house,” Caine said. “Near Soho.”

Never in her life would she think her father would stay at such a place. Unless he was trying to hide, not only from her but, possibly, from Strauss?

“I’m sure you’re going to run and see him now,” Caine said.

“Why would I?” She picked up her teacup and took a dainty sip. “Like I said I haven’t seen him in ten years. I don’t care to see him now and I don’t know why he’s in London. I have no idea how many times he’s been here in the last ten years. Do I need to say it any other way?”

“Not in the least,” Gregory said. He finished his tea and, like a good hostess, Belinda refilled his cup.

“We will get to the bottom of this,” Gregory said. “Things will go easier for you if you admit now that you helped Strauss fake his death to escape debts.”

“But it’s not the truth,” she said. You’d want to look at my father for that, she wanted to say.

“Your father says the same thing,” Caine said.

“And I suppose he threw blame on me,” she responded.

“No, he said the same thing that you did, that you had a falling out, and he knew nothing about Strauss faking his death. He truly thinks he’s dead. But someone, I think, is lying. Which one of you is it, that is the question?”

Caine took a drink after his long speech. “We expect you to let us know immediately if you hear from your former husband.

“You have my word,” Belinda said.

“Then we will take our leave,” Caine said. “And expect you to keep your word.”

When they were gone, Belinda collapsed against the back of the couch. “What do we do now?” she asked.

“We invite your father for afternoon tea,” Barton said. “And then we go upstairs so you can suck my cock.”

“Such a juxtaposition of events,” Belinda said. “And you talked about them so close together.”

“Yes, but I don’t want your father to know about the second one, just the first. Go pen him a note, and then I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Belinda wrote as fast as she could, and when she got to the bedroom she wasn’t surprised to find Barton naked and laying on the bed. His cock was already erect.

“You’re in a hurry,” she said. “I was going to have Merry help me to undress. You should cover yourself up.”

Barton made as if to stand up and she put out her hand and told him to stop. “I can’t afford to lose another dress. You are too loose with the ripping off of clothing.”

“It’s such a fun thing to do,” he said. “When we’re married we need to keep clothes that are easily disposable so I can play rip and tear.”

He laughed, and she couldn’t help but smile. “I will get undressed as quickly as possible.” She pointed to the room next door. “You can wait in there.”

Merry appeared as soon as she was called, and soon Belinda was as naked as Barton. When she was gone, Belinda called Barton back into the room. He had his hand on his cock and a smile on his face.

“We’d better get to it or things might deflate faster than we want,” he said.

“Would you like me to show you my trick?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

“I’m always up for a good trick,” he said. “What exactly is it?”

She looked at his cock, twisting her head from side to side as if she were judging it.

“Do you find it lacking?” he asked.

“No, it’s perfect.” She licked her lips, and was happy to see the way his eyes widened at her praise. “It’s the perfect size for me to take down my throat.”

“Down your… excuse me?”

“I can swallow your cock,” she said. “It won’t stay there long, but I do believe you will find it very pleasurable. I’ve never had a complaint about it before.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wondered if they had been the right thing to say. Was it proper to talk about former lovers with the man you would marry? It’s not like he didn’t know she wasn’t a virgin.

And, while she was worrying about it he hadn’t said a word. He went back to the bed and took up the position he’d been in before. If it was possible, his cock seemed even harder, and longer, than it had just moments ago.

“There is a specific position you have to be in for this,” she said. “I know it sounds a little, well, shall we say not sexy, but it’s the best position for taking you all the way in.”

He groaned at her words, and then said, “Okay.”

Belinda sashayed toward the bed. When she was there she leaned over and ran her tongue up and down his length. “Tastes so good,” she said, right before she licked up and down again, and then swallowed the head and sucked him ever so gently.

His groans made her suck a little harder. She loved the taste of him, the feel of his hardness in her mouth. When he grasped handfuls of her hair and yanked, with enough pressure to make her release his cock and gasp, she said, “Stand up.” Her voice was gravely with need, and when he did as she asked, she lay down on the bed so that her head was off the side.

“Feed me your prick,” she said. “Do it slowly and gently, and whatever you do, if I push on your thighs, take it out of my mouth.”

“As you wish,” he said.

“I can take it deeply, but you have to move slowly.”

“As you wish,” he repeated.

Belinda opened her mouth and took him inside her, using her tongue to lick as he slowly moved back and forth. She could tell by the tightness of sac that he was close to climax. She licked and sucked, and when he read her signals correctly and she felt him in the back of her throat she groaned.

He shot off immediately, and Belinda felt as if she would gag. She patted his leg and he pulled away, which made quite a mess to her, but it was something she loved seeing, and feeling.

She was recovering from having him so deep inside her when he leaned over, parted the lips of her quim, and sucked her clit into his mouth. She came hard as he sucked and nibbled, and when he lay down next to her, so that they were head to toe, they both laughed.

“That’s a new one for me,” he said. “I hope you’ll be willing to do it again.”

“And again, and again, and again,” she said.

“Good to know.”

An hour later, while they were lying in bed, recovering, Merry delivered a note from her father. It had been short and to the point. Tea at four, your house.

“He makes it sound like a party,” she’d said, handing the paper to Jonathan. It was almost time for her father to arrive, and she was very, very nervous. “He didn’t even sign his name, just put his seal on the envelope.”

They were in the study now, and she was more worried about this than she had been about anything in a long time.

Jonathan sat down in a chair. “Something tells me your father has been inundated with bills from our fake Victor.”

“He frightens me,” Belinda said. “I haven’t seen him in ten years.”

“Sit down, Belinda,” Jonathan said. “Would you like a nip of brandy to calm your nerves?”

“No,” she said.

“Then sit and relax. I don’t want your father to see your nerves.”

He was right, of course. She did as he said. Jonathan leaned his head back and closed his eyes, and she wondered how he could be so calm. For herself, she went over different scenarios of speaking with her father, and they all ended badly.

At precisely four o’clock, there was a knock at the door. The butler showed her father in and Belinda was surprised to see how little he had changed in the last ten years.

“Father,” she whispered.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “I suppose you’re the man who’s marrying Belinda?”

“I am,” Jonathan said.

“You should know she’s a liar.”

Belinda felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

“Is she?” Jonathan said. “I believe she told me the truth when she said it was your idea to have her husband play dead so that you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

Lord Lucas stiffened and glared at Belinda. “Don’t you dare blame this on me.”

“As I see it, it is your fault. You didn’t want society to know that the man you allowed to marry your daughter was a cheat and a scoundrel. She’s paid the price. Not you.”

“Jonathan.” Belinda bit her lip when Jonathan held up his hand.

“She’s paid the price? She’s been a whore to every man she’s met. What price has she paid?”

“She was forced to fend for herself, after you cut her off. You send money to the scoundrel who wronged your own daughter and give her not a cent, and then question the manner in which she survives? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I won’t be lectured by you.” Lucas slammed his case on the desk and opened it. “Are you responsible for these?”

He held up papers and shook them at Belinda.

“I am responsible for those,” Jonathan said.

“Then you shall pay them,” her father said, throwing the bills toward Jonathan.

“A small price to pay to get you here and to force the truth into the public eye so Belinda is no longer held prisoner by it.”

“Prisoner? Humph!”

“Yes, father, prisoner. You call me a whore, and society has branded me as such. I did what I had to do to survive. Jonathan is the first person to actually take an interest in me, and my life. Ever.”

Her father started to answer her, then stopped suddenly, his eyes turning to Jonathan.

“You’re the one who set up that embarrassment last evening?”

“Were you there?” Jonathan asked. When he didn’t answer, Jonathan said. “The next newspaper article will tell everyone about how you helped Strauss fake his death, and then set up a divorce through the Parisian courts.”

Lord Lucas paled. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would, and I shall. I had hoped that Strauss would be man enough to come and face the problem with you, but I see that’s not true.”

“I’ll pay you.” Lucas’ voice was soft.

Belinda felt tears sting her eyes. Then, Jonathan laughed.

“No amount of money would stop what I have planned. I want society to know that you and Strauss took advantage of Belinda, that you forced her into being a ‘widow’, that you paid him to remain silent while she was forced to make her own way.”

“Belinda.” Her father sat down heavily on the sofa. “Don’t let him do this to me. I’ll be ruined.”

“Why should she give you any boon, when you didn’t allow her the same courtesy?”

He looked as if he was going to cry, and Belinda thought her heart would break. As much as she hated him, she didn’t want to see him in this position.

“Jonathan,” she whispered.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“Hush, Lady Brat. Let me handle this.”

“Tell me something, sir, do you feel bad about how you’ve treated your daughter, or do you feel bad because everyone will soon find out?”

When her father didn’t answer, Belinda knew the truth. She straightened her shoulders and sniffled.

“That’s what I thought,” Jonathan said. “My future wife is tender-hearted. She wants me to stop what is going to happen to spare you any embarrassment. But I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Would you like to know why?”

Lucas nodded.

“One day in the future, you will die, sir. And when you do, Strauss and Gloria will show up on my doorstep, demanding money to remain silent. I won’t have that happen. And I won’t allow Belinda to live under the shadow of a lie any longer. What you should do, sir, is travel to Paris tonight and tell Strauss that the jig is up. Refuse to pay him anymore, and tell him that your secret will soon be common knowledge.”

“Either way, I’m ruined.” Then her father sighed. “Gloria is dead.”

Belinda gasped. “When?”

“A year ago, in childbirth.”

Belinda felt as if she would cry.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Jonathan said. “Making sure that Belinda is cared for is my responsibility now. And I pray that I do a much better job at it than you did.”

“I am sorry, Belinda,” Lucas said, rising. “I blamed you for everything. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”

He looked old and sad.

“If Gloria is dead, why do you continue to pay Strauss?” Belinda asked.

“Because I don’t want anyone to know,” he said.

“Blackmail,” Jonathan said. “You deserve it.”

Her father closed his eyes, and Jonathan said, “Where is Strauss now? He is living with a woman who resembles Gloria, I’m sure. She’s been seen asking about Belinda.”

“They are at Blackmon’s House,” her father said. “He wants more money.”

“Pay the bills that you tossed at me and I’ll have Strauss jailed,” Jonathan said. “I know just the officer to call.”

Her father got up and it occurred to Belinda they hadn’t even poured tea. She offered him some but he refused.

She waited for her father to apologize, to tell her he felt bad for her. Instead he nodded in Jonathan’s direction and left the room.

“Even now he doesn’t care about me,” she said.

“I care,” Jonathan said. “I’m not going to leave you, Belinda. You are my life.”

She put her lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said.

“Simply by being yourself.”