by Eva Shepherd
His gaze moved slowly over her body, taking in every beautiful inch of it: the tiny waist, the round hips and the curve of her buttocks. He imagined encircling that small waist with his arms as he inhaled the scent of her hair, running his hands over those enticing curves, across her hips, taking those round buttocks in his hands. A stirring in his groin alerted him that one of his body parts had apparently not been affected by last night’s altercation.
She really was a beautiful woman, with a sensual, feminine body, and she had the most beguiling face he had ever seen. He was wrong. She wasn’t like a woman in a pre-Raphaelite painting. She was even more beautiful. But what he was doing was certainly wrong. He should not be watching her. He should close his eyes, turn his back on her. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do. But right now, he had no interest in being a gentleman. What he wanted to do with this woman was much more primal than that. And if he could actually move, he would have a hard job stopping himself from acting on his base instincts.
She turned and looked over her shoulder at him. Now he most definitely should look away. But how could he? With her body side on to him, the sunlight was exposing the outline of her breasts to his gaze. Full, round, firm breasts, just waiting for a man’s hands to caress them. The stirring in his groin grew more intense. He must look away. He must. Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes left those beautiful breasts and he looked up at her face. She was staring at him. For one intense moment she held his gaze. Like a prisoner, trapped by his desire, Dominic continued to stare back at her. The very room seemed to hold its breath as he waited for her to react. She had every right to be outraged by his libertine behaviour. If she threw him out of her rooms right now and on to the street it would be no less than he deserved.
Her gaze moved down to where the shape of the bedclothes revealed the powerful effect she was having on him. She bit her lip and a delicate blush appeared on her cheeks. ‘Well, you seem to be on the mend,’ she said with a small, embarrassed laugh. ‘But I think it might be an idea if I dressed in the other room.’ With that, she picked up her clothes and disappeared into the adjoining room.
It was Dominic who should be embarrassed, not her. This young woman had tended his wounds, had given up her bed for him, and he repaid her by spying on her, by lusting after her. He tried once more to rise from the bed and a searing pain shot through his chest and back, the ripping agony of his injuries completely removing the shameful evidence of his reaction to seeing Miss Regan in her nightgown.
Despite his pain, Dominic could not stay in these rooms a second longer. He had imposed on this young woman long enough and now he had embarrassed her by his lustful behaviour. He placed his hand on the iron bedstead. Slowly he eased himself up to a sitting position. Inch by inch he manoeuvred his legs across the bed and over the side. Taking a few deep, slow breaths so he could bear the pain, he stood up. Burning agony shot through his body, causing him to double over, and fall back on to the bed as an animal cry escaped his mouth.
Miss Regan’s hands caught him before he slipped to the floor. In his agony he hadn’t heard her enter the room and he was incapable of resisting as she gently eased him back on to the bed. Her lovely face was contorted with concern. In her haste to help him she had left her blouse unbuttoned. Through his pain he registered the soft round mounds of her décolletage. The creamy skin was so inviting, so tempting. He released another moan, but this time for an entirely different reason.
‘Do not try to get out of bed again,’ she admonished him while pulling her blouse together, hiding that beautiful sight from his inappropriate gaze. ‘The doctor said you might have broken a rib and it could pierce your lung.’
‘I can’t stay here. I’ve imposed too long.’ And despite my injuries I’m finding it increasingly difficult to behave like a gentleman. Broken rib, pierced lung or not, it was time Dominic left.
‘You’re being ridiculous. If you die on me, that will be an even bigger imposition. Now promise me, you will not try to get out of bed again.’
She waited, staring at him, her eyes blazing.
‘I said promise. You are not to try to get out of that bed.’
‘I should go. I shouldn’t be here.’
‘Well, you are here. And unless you promise me you’re not going to move I’m going to tie you to the bed. So, do as you’re told and don’t move.’
He smiled despite his pain. Those green eyes were flashing in anger, just as they had when he’d first seen her standing in the servants’ hall at Hardgrave Estate, her hands on her hips, her chin lifted in defiance. This little slip of a girl really did have a streak of iron in her.
‘All right. All right. I promise.’
She nodded in satisfaction.
‘But, please, can you send someone to fetch my valet? He’ll be able to arrange for me to be transported back to my own home.’
She leant over him and pulled up the quilt. He tried desperately to ignore the temptation to look down at her soft breasts. He fought not to inhale her delicate scent of roses, so soft and feminine. He needed to think of other things if he was to avoid once again revealing to her just how much of a cad he was. He should not be thinking such lustful thoughts while she was doing all she could to help him.
She left the room again and a few minutes later returned with a tray containing a teapot, two cups and a plate of toast and jam.
‘I’m sure it’s not quite as grand as what you usually have for breakfast,’ she said, pouring the tea. ‘But I’m afraid this will have to do.’
He thanked her as he took the cup and saucer from her outstretched hand. ‘You are very kind to put yourself to all this trouble.’
‘Oh, stop saying that. You kept saying that last night and I told you to stop. It’s my fault you’re in this condition. You should be reprimanding me, not thanking me.’
Dominic laughed, a laugh that was cut short by pain searing through his side. ‘Would you actually listen to anyone who reprimanded you?’
She smiled and shrugged one shoulder. ‘Probably not.’
He took a sip of the hot drink, avoiding the cut on the edge of his bottom lip, and looked around the small room. It was quite humble accommodation, but she had made it attractive and feminine, with patchwork quilts, embroidered cushions and an array of knick-knacks. He settled back into the pillows. It was a comfortable room and he imagined it provided her with a welcoming retreat at the end of her working day.
He took another sip of his tea. He should make conversation. Discuss anything other than his inappropriate behaviour, anything other than how he had shamefully embarrassed this lovely young woman. ‘You must be very enterprising to open your own business. What made you decide to leave the security of a job in service to take such a risk?’
Yes, her work...that was a much safer topic.
She shrugged. ‘It didn’t feel like a risk and I’ve always wanted to work for myself. When I worked for the Duchess of Somerfeld, when she was still Arabella van Haven, back in New York, I had so many society ladies asking me if I’d work for them that I knew people wanted my services. Not that any of them deemed to ask me directly.’ She pulled a face of disapproval and Dominic smiled. That was the disapproving little madam he had seen in the kitchen at Hardgrave House.
‘They always got a member of their staff to do that. Too high and mighty to talk to me themselves.’ She sniffed. ‘And it was the same when I came to London. Then I noticed that a lot of middle-class women only had a few servants, or even just one maid of all works. Not many had their own lady’s maid. They’re all trying desperately to copy the aristocracy, but they haven’t got the staff to achieve the look. So, I thought a hair and beauty parlour would be a good business. And it has been. I’ve only been in business for six months and already I’m completely booked out most days.’
‘Yes, very enterprising.’ He took another sip. ‘Although I’m surprised you’re booked out.’
He suppressed a smile as she glared at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Why would you say that? My work is greatly admired.’
‘I’m sure it is, but you don’t exactly make it easy for people to hire your services. Last night was the third time I tried to ask you if you’d be willing to do my sister’s hair.’
‘Oh, yes, about that...’ She laughed to try to cover up her embarrassment. ‘Sorry, but you know, I got that one a bit wrong.’
‘You thought I wanted to tell you off for impersonating me?’
She bit her bottom lip and blushed slightly. ‘Well, I was pretty rude.’
‘Yes, you were. But it hardly matters.’ He smiled at the memory of her strutting round in front of the servants mocking him and Cecily Hardgrave. His smiled faded. He wasn’t the only one she had mocked.
‘You can make fun of me as much as you like, but Lady Cecily doesn’t deserve to be laughed at.’
‘Yes, I’m sorry about that.’ She pulled a small frown that didn’t look particularly sorry to him.
Dominic looked down at the cup in his hand. He hadn’t thought of his fiancée since he had left the Hardgrave Estate. That was unforgivable. In fact, just about everything he had done and thought since he’d met this pretty former lady’s maid had been unforgivable.
And as rude as she had been, she had, unfortunately, not been far from the truth. He had never looked at Cecily the way he had looked at Miss Regan this morning. He had never had thoughts of ripping off Cecily’s clothing and feasting his eyes on her body, had never felt that primal, lustful urge to take her and make her his own, but that was exactly what he wanted to do with Nellie Regan.
He moved uncomfortably in the bed. He had to get his thoughts under control. It was an insult to Miss Regan, not to mention highly inappropriate for a recently engaged man.
He coughed to clear his throat. ‘So, you lived in America for a while,’ he asked, once again trying to move the conversation on to safer ground. ‘But that gentle brogue is Irish more than American.’
‘Mmm, I was born in Ireland, but moved to America when I was still a young lass. I came to London last year, when Arabella—I mean the Duchess of Somerfeld’s father sent her over to England to find a husband with a title. He’s a right social climber, that one.’ Her hand shot to her mouth and a soft blush tinged her cheeks.
Was that how she saw him, as a right social climber? Is that why she thought he was marrying Cecily? Dominic released a long sigh. Well, she would be right. But his social advancement was not for himself, but for his sisters. Wasn’t it? Dominic was starting to wonder why he had ever thought marrying Cecily Hardgrave was a good idea. He shook his head and pushed that thought away. Of course it was a good idea. How could he think otherwise?
‘Perhaps advancing his daughter’s position in society was the kindest thing her father could do for her.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I think letting his daughter live her life in a way that made her happy would have been kinder.’
It was his turn to roll his eyes. ‘Being secure, having a place in society are what’s important, not some wishy-washy idea of happiness. And anyway, the Duchess of Somerfeld looked happy enough to me.’
‘Well, she is, but that’s because she’s in love, but that wasn’t anything to do with her father.’
‘Love,’ he snorted. ‘Love and happiness, how many lives have been ruined because people have chased those illusive concepts?’
‘You don’t think it’s important to love the person you’re married to?’ She blushed slightly. ‘Sorry, that’s none of my business.’
She was right. It was none of her business, but he felt compelled to make her see how wrong she was. ‘I believe there are many important things to consider before deciding who to marry and love is not one of them. A couple should be well matched socially and temperamentally. The decision should be made based on reason, not some illusive concepts like love and the desire to be constantly happy.’
She bit her lip and her drew her eyebrows together as if trying to understand a difficult concept. ‘So, how long have you known Lady Cecily?’
Dominic tried to think back to when he had first met her. She had always lived in the same county and they had attended many social functions together so he must have known her for quite some time, but he couldn’t actually recall when they first met. In fact, until her father had suggested they marry he had never paid her much attention. Since then they had taken several long walks together around their estates, under the watchful eye of Cecily’s chaperon, but their engagement party was the first public event they had attended as a couple. ‘We’ve known each other for many years,’ he finally replied.
‘So, when did you decide that she was the one you wanted to marry?’
‘It was quite simple. Her father suggested it. I realised it was a highly suitable match. I proposed to Lady Cecily and she agreed.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘So, what are you saying? You don’t love Lady Cecily, but you’re engaged to her because it’s a highly suitable match?’ she asked quietly. ‘Does Lady Cecily love you?’
He shook his head impatiently. ‘That hardly matters, does it? We’re well suited and I’m sure as time passes we will become much closer and grow to have a shared affection for each other.’ And that will be much better than love and passion, he wanted to add. His parents had married for love and all that had done was cause damage to the family and their position in society, damage that his marriage to Cecily would finally undo. But he couldn’t expect an ex-servant to ever understand that.
‘Well, it looks like your marriage to Lady Cecily will be a great success then if your expectations are so low. If you don’t expect love, and you don’t even expect happiness, nothing can go wrong.’ Her voice had grown terse, as if he had offended her in some way.
She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. Sometimes I speak my mind before I have time to think. That was rude of me. I’m sorry, I keep being rude to you. Your relationship with Lady Cecily has nothing to do with me and I’m sure you’ll both be very happy.’
She gave a little laugh, which sounded more annoyed than amused. ‘Well, maybe not happy, you don’t want to be happy, do you? But I’m sure it will be very successful and it will be great for both families, socially and what not.’
Dominic released an exasperated sigh. ‘Sometimes it’s important to sacrifice your own happiness for the benefit of others. My marriage will be good for my sisters. You might scoff at people marrying to advance their position in society, but my marriage will mean my sisters will move in society’s highest echelons. It will mean they will have much better opportunities for making suitable matches and maybe even meeting your criteria and finding so-called love and happiness.’
Dominic was unsure why he felt the need to explain himself. He did not need to justify his marriage to anyone, but for some reason it was important to him that she did not see him as some grasping man desperate to align himself with the aristocracy at any cost. He didn’t want her to despise him, didn’t want her to be annoyed with him. He wanted to see that laughing Nellie Regan once more.
‘Yes, it will be important to sire another generation of toffs,’ he said, making sure his voice sounded completely serious. ‘But believe me, that is something I’ll be more than capable of doing myself and it’s one task I won’t have to pass over to a servant.’
She looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, then laughed out loud. It was such a delightful sound and he smiled back at her.
‘Yes, I’m sorry about that as well,’ she said, trying to stifle her laughter. ‘That impersonation I did of your wedding night was very rude, even for me.’
‘Well, the servants seemed to enjoy it.’
‘Yes, but still, I did go a bit far, didn’t I? Sorry.’
She took a sip of her tea. Hopefully, now that he had made her laugh, she woul
d stop grilling him about his relationship with Cecily Hardgrave and his attitudes to love and marriage.
‘Although heaven knows what Lady Cecily will have to say when she finds out you spent the night in another woman’s bed,’ she said, still smiling.
It seemed she wasn’t going to drop the subject after all. ‘I very much doubt if she will be concerned.’ It was Dominic’s turn to regret what he had said. Just as Nellie Regan professed to do, he had spoken without thinking, otherwise he would never have revealed such a personal detail about his relationship with Cecily Hardgrave. It seemed Miss Regan was having a bad effect on him.
She stared at him, her gaze long and considered, her head inclined slightly to one side, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. ‘Really? She won’t? Why not? Even if she’s not jealous that you spent the night in another woman’s bed...’ Her cheeks exploded with colour. ‘Just sleeping that is, nothing else, won’t she be concerned about you? Won’t she be worried?’
Dominic wondered whether she would be. Cecily seemed to be completely unconcerned about everything to do with him and their forthcoming marriage. Not for the first time he wondered why a young woman would be so keen to marry and yet be so uninterested in her future husband.
A silence stretched out between them and she continued to stare at him in expectation, her cheeks still that delightful shade of pink. Once again he was being drawn into a conversation he did not want to have. And despite those green eyes staring at him with curiosity, he would not be answering any more questions about himself and Cecily Hardgrave.
‘I have no desire to discuss Lady Cecily’s feelings with you,’ he said in a voice that sounded bombastic even to his own ears. ‘I thank you for helping me last night but, as I’ve asked you already, would you be so kind as to contact my valet so he can arrange for my transportation home.’ He could hear his voice becoming more pompous with every word, but he had to stop this young woman from asking any more awkward questions, had to put an end to a discussion that was causing him to examine his decisions and forget his responsibilities and his commitments.