Wedding Violet (Fair Cyprians of London Book 4)

by Beverley Oakley

  Thoughtfully, he ran his fingers across his lower lip, not realising for a few seconds that he was yet again reliving last night when she’d done the same to him. And how much he’d liked it!

  “You’re a good actress, you say, Miss Lilywhite? Were you acting last night?”

  “What?”

  “Acting? When you were in bed with me? Surely you haven’t forgotten already?”

  To his amusement, she blushed. Sudden and fiery as she glanced at the noisy table beside them rather than meet his eye, though she didn’t seem embarrassed when she returned her gaze to his face.

  “Last night is not what is under discussion; however, in the interests of telling the truth, which I like to do whenever it is at all possible—since, so often, it is not—I thought you the most exciting and desirable of any gentleman who has ever crossed my threshold, and I’m deeply regretful that this is the last time we shall meet. Now, what is under discussion is what you wish me to say in order to cause the least distress possible to a charming old lady who is clearly very innocent, unworldly, and wants only the best for her favourite nephew.” She clasped her gloved hands upon the table and smiled at Max, who was feeling unaccountably churned up by her earlier revelation so that he was barely attending when she added, slowly, as if he were a simpleton, “What do you want me to say to Miss Thistlethwaite if she contacts me again?” Then, even more slowly as he still hadn’t found the right response, “Please attend to me, Lord Belvedere. I shan’t see you again and I promise not to follow you, so now is your only opportunity to ensure I do my part to curb your aunt’s wild flight of fancy. We need to ensure our stories align.”

  Max blinked. Her words had had a very odd effect on him, as if he were opening himself up to a world of impoverishment if he didn’t see her at least one more time. She really was quite captivating.

  “You’re very impatient for an answer, Miss Lilywhite, considering this has all come as rather a shock, and fellows like me are not known for making their greatest romantic gestures under stress.”

  She sat back and took another sip of cider. “I’d hardly put this in that category, but I’ll wait. I’m in no hurry to get back to Madame Chambon’s. It’s a rare afternoon off so I’m rather enjoying it with preferred company.” Her lips turned up in that delightful, half-amused way that made his insides tingle with want. But he couldn’t be rash about this. Of course he couldn’t. He was off to Africa to fulfill his greatest desire now that he’d at last been granted his freedom.

  “You might not put this in the category of a great romantic gesture, but I do. Aunt Euphemia’s heart beats as passionately as it ever did, and I’d not be the one to disappoint her.”

  “So, you want me to cry off? To tell her I have no wish to marry you? That would end it cleanly, I suppose.”

  Oh no, he didn’t want her to do that at all. It would finish the matter far too peremptorily, he realised, when he was having rather a lot of fun right now. So he was surprised at how pleased he was when she added, “Unfortunately, it would come across as rather odd for a mere shop girl to throw away such a material rise in fortune, not to mention being suddenly and completely at odds with the glowing terms I used to describe you only a few hours ago.”

  “Glowing terms? Oh, I do like the sound of that. Tell me what you said.”

  She tapped her forefinger thoughtfully on her glass. “You already have a healthy opinion of yourself, Lord Belvedere. And I’ve already bolstered it. I’m not sure I want to enlarge any further.”

  “What if I started by telling you that I think you are the most stunning creature I’ve ever had occasion to meet, and I’m disappointed that any further association with you would kibosh my lofty intentions towards virtue. Besides which, as I’ve mentioned, I won’t be around too much longer.” He flashed her his most winning smile for he truly was impatient to know how Miss Lilywhite had described him to his aunt.

  “And is that the truth, Lord Belvedere?”

  “I like to tell the truth when at all possible.”

  “As do I, as I’ve said. All right, I told her that I thought you the handsomest and most considerate of any gentleman who’d ever crossed my threshold—bearing in mind she thinks I work in a shop—and that I’d immediately lost my heart to you upon first sight.” She looked a little embarrassed. “And that every time you walk into a room my heart beats as loudly as a drum, and I have to exercise all my self-restraint to continue whatever polite conversation I’m involved in so as not to rush across the room and kiss you thoroughly. Oh, she did enjoy that! I could see how much she wanted to hear you talked up to the stars and I really did gild the lily. You should have seen how pink she went and how delighted to find me as ardent an admirer of your virtues as herself.”

  “Kindred spirits, eh?” He grinned. “Miss Lilywhite, you said you like to tell the truth when possible. Tell me how much was merely embellishment for my aunt?”

  “Very little, really. But I’ve already made it clear how much I like you. That’s no secret. Nevertheless, we’ve strayed from the matter under discussion since it seems you only want your head turned. What. Should. I. Tell. Miss Thistlethwaite?”

  “What should you tell Miss Thistlethwaite?” he repeated slowly. He sighed as he smiled fondly at the thought of his aunt though Miss Lilywhite’s words were still working a considerable effect upon him. “Darling Aunt Euphemia is the world’s greatest romantic, and nothing would please her more than to see me marry. Preferably someone poor and unsuitable—yet totally ravishing, like you—if only to spite her brother, since it was he who denied poor Aunt Euphemia the husband of her choice.”

  She looked tender when he said that, as if she were capable of caring, when just a moment before he’d been impressed by the flash of fire in Violet’s eyes when she’d rebuked him for changing the subject; for talking of last night. She truly was beautiful, and she appealed to his senses on all levels.

  “I think the easiest is to just go along with it.”

  “Just go along with it?” She looked as if he were mad. Her eyelashes fluttered and her lips pursed. Over her shoulder Max could see several other young women of similar age to Miss Lilywhite. They might have turned heads if they were not competing with the beauty in front of him. They certainly were not as adept at striking the right note. Miss Lilywhite seemed to know how to rise to any occasion with just the right degree of charm and admirable self composure. She was undeniably a talented actress.

  “You’re clearly not kept under lock and key in that house of ill repute or you’d not be here. And I’ll pay you for your time, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

  She blinked rapidly. “My Lord Belvedere”

  “Call me Max, please. We’re engaged.”

  “Alright. Max. But we’re not engaged!”

  “We are for the purposes of making my darling Aunt Euphemia happy, my dear Violet. I can call you that since we are engaged. She only has a few months to live, don’t you know? You heard her cough, I suppose?”

  “Yes, she coughed, but it didn’t sound as bad as all that. Not like she was at death’s door.” Violet’s mouth was pressed together into a tight line, and she was looking at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses when really, what he proposed was seeming more sensible by the minute.

  “Well, I hope you’re right and she’s not going to die, Violet. I’m sure you hope that, too, since you said you liked her. But”

  “Well, clearly I’d be delighted. But we can’t carry on a ridiculous charade forever. And you’d have to set a wedding date. And there’d be guests and”

  “Yes, I know how weddings work. I’ve been involved in these preparations for months. I’ve been a marked man for years. Yes, for years it’s been the assumption that Mabel and I would marry, even though no one consulted us until I was prodded into making it formal.” It made him feel ill with relief at how close he’d come—yet survived. “And yes, we’ll set a date.”

  “And it’ll be a second wedding for you that
doesn’t go through? With all due respect, I don’t think this is going to fill your Aunt Euphemia with the kind of joyful rapture you fondly imagine it will.”

  “Of course we’ll go through with it. It’ll be hush-hush. Just you and me and Aunt Euphemia and a couple of witnesses. A sham wedding. We’ll pretend that we’re off to the Continent, only I’ll then embark for Africa and you can go back and do what you do, and everyone will be happy.”

  She looked disturbed by this when Max was suddenly feeling considerably pleased and clever. What a marvellous way to spend his last three weeks in England. He’d be making the greatest gesture possible towards Aunt Euphemia, who deserved so much for her maternal care of him all these years; he’d be adding to Miss Lilywhite’s coffers in the process since she was, after all, a working girl who’d taken herself out of the marriage market by virtue of her profession so needed whatever coin she could to keep body and soul together.

  “I fear it will not be as simple as you make it sound, Max.”

  “Nonsense!” he exclaimed, touching her cheek as he’d been wanting to do for some time now in order to remind himself of her softness. “We simply need to ensure our stories align, as you said.” Yes, he was doing this for the happiness of his aunt, he reminded himself, as he added, “So, let’s say we find somewhere quieter and more private to do just that.”

  Chapter 5

  Violet was conscious of the looks they received as she swept along the pavement, Max by her side. He was tall and handsome and she, although plainly dressed, had always received her fair share of admiration.

  It had been a blessing and a bane her entire life. It’s how she’d stumbled, then fallen into a profession that sucked dry all goodness from her soul.

  It’s why she was here, now, with a man who made her blood fizz in her veins like champagne as she contemplated the direction ‘aligning their stories’ might take.

  “This is the house,” she said after a few minutes’ walk, indicating a tall, four-square residence set back from the street with a neat brick path leading to a black front door. Neat, respectable, and discreet.

  And owned by a woman, equally so in each respect, who asked no questions as she handed them a key in exchange for Max’s coins.

  Violet didn’t even blush. There was little point in false modesty when she was destined for hell anyway.

  “Do you come here often?” he asked as they mounted the stairs.

  “I’ve never been here.” She raised one eyebrow at his subtle quizzing. “My friend, Charity, uses it all the time though, as a place to meet her young man in private.”

  “My, my, he sounds accommodating.”

  “He was her first client.” They’d reached their room at the end of the corridor, and Violet waited as Max inserted the key. She wanted to stroke the back of his head as he bent slightly. Instead, she added, “His grandfather had been horrified to learn his grandson was a virgin at twenty-three and so funded an educational evening at Madame Chambon’s. Charity was also a virgin, so little help apparently. But they’ve been desperately in love for the past eighteen months. He pays most of his allowance to keep her exclusively. He’s waiting until he comes into his inheritance when he turns twenty-five, so he can set her up properly. In the meantime, he brings her here whenever he can.”

  “A veritable lovers’ nest.” Indeed it was, Violet saw as Max threw open the bedroom door and they were met by the sight of a large, cushioned four-poster beneath a canopy of cream, gauzy bed hangings. The room was not large, but big enough to also accommodate a rose-velvet sofa by a merrily crackling fireplace.

  “It has everything but the draughts board,” Violet said on a soft laugh as she looked at the empty side table. But her insides were churning. She was achingly conscious of the man beside her, and she shivered in anticipation as she felt his fingertips slowly stroke her neck.

  “I don’t think I’m in the mood for draughts this evening.” His voice was hoarse.

  “Nor I.” Violet heard the wanting in hers.

  There was no need for words as she sank into his embrace. The cologne-imbued musky scent of his skin and the caress of his breath upon her cheek were all she needed to arch her neck and give him access to the buttons at her throat.

  “You kiss very well, Lord Belvedere,” she whispered as he worked the fastenings loose, and with commendable dexterity, slipped his hand into her bodice, then insinuated it beneath the layers of her underpinnings to cup her breast. Tingles of excitement charged up her spine as he fondled the nipple, at the same time as removing her jacket while Violet worked at her skirt fastenings.

  Soon she was wearing nothing but her corset, chemise, and stockings, lying across the bed while he towered, shirtless, above her, his handsome face focused intently upon her as if she were the most prized morsel he’d hunted all day.

  “How do you plan to explain our first meeting to your aunt, my Lord?” Violet asked, smiling up at him, her dark ringlets charmingly framed against the white pillows. “We’ve not much we can be truthful about.”

  “Damn the truth, my fair wench. I don’t care what story you want to concoct. All I’m interested in is ravishing you this very moment.”

  She murmured a muffled agreement into his neck as he swooped upon her, his hand skimming the length of one thigh and rucking up her lawn petticoat at the same time. When it arrived at the juncture of her legs, she was wet with wanting, curling into him as she worked the buttons of his trousers.

  “And I want you naked so I can see you,” she whispered when she found her voice. “And feel you.”

  His touch was as sweet as it was achingly sensual. Violet had never been moved by intimacy with a man. Until now. She’d fancied herself in love before, but her initiation to lovemaking had been brief and disappointing. What followed had been even more disheartening and, after that, nothing but a series of charades.

  This was real.

  He pulled her against him when he was unashamedly naked, deftly unlacing her corset, whisking off her chemise, then burying his head between her breasts. Breathing her in deeply, he contoured her curves, his large, warm, gentle hands quickly finding the nub of her desire.

  “So, this is where you like it?” he whispered, sliding his fingers through its moistness, causing Violet to shudder. “My sweet Violet, I am your slave.”

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she returned, her body feeling boneless yet at the same time a seething mass of sensation.

  She kissed the top of his head as he bent to his work. Burying her face in his light-brown curls, she surrendered herself completely, for the first time ever, to a man’s tender ministrations.

  For he was as tender as he was passionate, his hands smoothing her skin, fingers working their magic, bringing her to an ever-heightened awareness of what it was to truly feel the need of a man. And she pleasured herself through the mere touch of him, tracing his bones, his muscles, circling his nipples like they were delicate shells, skimming her hands over his flanks until she could grasp his rod, causing him to sink into the mattress on a groan.

  “You are quite magnificent, sweet Violet, and I want you now.”

  “Then you shall have me,” she vowed, wriggling over him, fusing her hips to his before he flipped her onto her back and loomed over her.

  In the dim light, his eyes glowed and his mouth curved. “Are we ready for this?” he asked on a low rumble of a laugh as she shivered to feel the tip of his manhood seeking her entrance.

  “As ready as you clearly are,” she responded on a gurgle of happiness as she gave a little wriggle, inviting him in further.

  Without another word, Max plunged into her in one smooth stroke, and Violet gasped her delight, and shuddered with excitement as she hooked her legs around his waist, wanting more than anything in that moment to be as one and to feel as one, as close and melded with another human being as was possible.

  She’d been on the brink when he’d entered her, but his increasingly rapid thrusts sent her brain into a
whirl of wicked pleasure, and her body into a morass of eternally damning ectasy so that her climax was beyond anything she could have imagined.

  With a cry of delight, she shattered around him, her arms binding him to her as he collapsed with a groan of ecstasy, rolling over her so he didn’t crush her.

  “By gad, Violet, now that was the best tupping I’ve ever enjoyed!” His laugh was unrestrained as he squeezed her affectionately. “I feel like I’m going to die of pleasure.” His breathing was rapid; his skin hot and slick with sweat. “Please, don’t talk to me for a few minutes while I regain my strength. I think I’m going to want to do this all over again, very soon.”

  Obediently, Violet lay in silence, smiling at the ceiling, her body humming with contentment while the comforting warmth of Max’s body seeped into her like a life-generating mantle of safety.

  “We really should get down to business and discuss what we’re going to tell your aunt,” she said with real regret after a few minutes, sitting up and stroking his chest as she smiled down at him. “I’m going to have to leave you sooner than I’d like.”

  “Really?” He looked appalled. “You have to go?”