Seduction Regency Style

by Louisa Cornell

  “I do not care,” she said. “I simply thought we were going to play Ombre.”

  “MacLaren,” the viscount growled.

  Lady Carr grasped the crook of Evan’s arm and pressed her breast against his forearm. “Our card game is not going as planned. Lady Dunn is correct; I am not a woman to settle for a single stolen kiss.”

  “What’s this talk of kisses?” Dunn demanded.

  Lady Carr shifted her gaze onto him. “You are wise to keep a close eye on your wife, sir. It was not Mr. MacLaren who made advances, but her.”

  Isabel shot to her feet. “How dare you?” She lunged for Leslie.

  The viscount grabbed for her and Evan seized Lady Carr’s arm to pull her aside, but she yanked free and nimbly stepped away, narrowly missing Isabel’s grasp. Lady Carr spun, yanked up her skirt, and gave Isabel a kick in the buttocks. Isabel stumbled several more paces, caught herself, then whirled. With a screech, she charged.

  This time, Evan grabbed Lady Carr’s arm and pulled her into his arms as the viscount stepped in front of them. Lady Carr’s head snapped up and her eyes met Evan’s as Isabel slammed into the viscount. His mouth went dry at the crush of Lady Carr’s breasts against his chest. Isabel dropped to the carpet on her buttocks and cried out. Her husband grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She cast a glare Evan’s way. The guests in the room stared as the viscount led his wife from the room at a fast walk.

  Evan looked down at Lady Carr. “Shall we take that walk, my dear?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer, but started them toward the balcony. She didn’t resist. He hadn’t thought she would. After all, the walk in the garden was her idea. What had she said? “I am not a woman to settle for a single stolen kiss.”

  If ever there was proof of a merciful God, this was it.

  Evan caught the glances cast their way as they swept across the room and out the open doors. The night was cool for the start of summer. Even more perfect. The balcony opened to the east lawn. Beyond the lawn, trees lay in thin moonlight.

  She chuckled. “In a hurry, are we?”

  He looked down at her. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  Her head snapped up and he was satisfied to read the surprise in her eyes.

  “Do you mind?” he asked, as they slowed and descended the three steps to the lawn.

  He caught the twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth before she looked straight ahead again. That wasn’t quite the reaction he’d hoped for. They strolled across the lawn.

  “I take it you and Lady Dunn are old friends,” she said.

  There was no mistaking the laughter in her voice, but any recrimination was absent.

  “I met her nine months ago in Italy. I had no idea she was married,” he said, then regretted the confession. He sounded as if he made excuses. Had he been?

  “She seems dissatisfied with her marriage,” she said. “Is Lord Dunn difficult?”

  Evan snorted. “Compared to Isabel? Nae.”

  “You met her in Italy? Does that mean you have a lady in every port?”

  Bloody hell, if that wasn’t genuine curiosity in her voice.

  They reached the edge of the soft light that spilled from the open doors and slowed in the darker shadows of a massive alder.

  “No one of import,” he said.

  “Indeed?”

  “Indeed,” he murmured, and swung her into his arms.

  She gave a small gasp of surprise as he bent his head. Their lips touched, and his cock leapt to life. She slid her arms around his neck and he pulled her flush against him. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He eased her back against the tree and slid a leg between her legs. Her lips parted in surprise and he flicked his tongue against her tongue. She tangled her tongue with his and his cock pulsed with startling need. He’d only just met her. He’d bedded Isabel the very night he met her and that had been a terrible mistake. Would making love to Lady Carr so soon be a mistake, as well?

  She slid her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. He shuddered when she tightened her grip. She nipped at his lower lip. The lady liked to play. His heart pounded. This was the finest stolen kiss he’d ever had. Might she like a bit more? Evan flattened a palm on her ribs, then slid upward and cupped her breast. She sighed into his mouth. Surely, making love to this woman wouldn’t be a mistake. She was nothing like Isabel. He’d wanted Isabel, but he hadn’t considered a relationship beyond the boudoir. Was he considering more with Leslie?

  She arched into his palm. Slowly, Evan slid her sleeve down until her breast was exposed. He broke the kiss, dipped his mouth to her hardened nipple and flicked it with his tongue. She breathed deep and blood thundered through his ears. He suckled the nipple. She drew in a sharp breath and he feared he would spend himself in his breeches. The woman was intoxicating. She released his hair and he froze when she cupped his erection. He’d never known a woman to be so bold. Gently, she kneaded his cock. He suckled her nipple harder. She kneaded him more firmly.

  Evan released her breast and whispered in her ear, “Do with me what you will.”

  “Anything?” she said in a throaty voice that hardened his cock to near pain.

  Anything?

  “Anything,” he replied, and kissed her neck.

  She lowered her free hand and, to his shock—and delight—began unbuttoning his falls. His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to discern the shape of her hand and he watched her fingers make fast work of the buttons. His heart thundered in anticipation as she pushed aside his shirttail. When she wrapped her fingers around his cock, Evan felt certain he’d died and gone to heaven.

  “By God,” he muttered.

  She gave a low laugh and pumped his erection.

  “Leslie,” he growled.

  She squeezed.

  “You will drive me over the edge in minutes.” Seconds.

  She responded by pumping faster.

  His heart raced. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had brought him to climax so quickly. He was about to embarrass himself. He gently bit down on her nipple. She threw back her head without slowing her rhythm on his cock. Pleasure ripped through him. He grasped her shoulders and thrust faster into her fingers.

  Her heart pounded against his mouth. She wanted him. He wanted to be inside her—badly. She squeezed. His climax rolled over him before he could attempt to halt it. The pleasure dug so deep it bordered on pain. He buried his face in her breasts and thrust until the blood in his ears dulled to a low roar.

  At last, she released him. Evan closed his falls, then withdrew the handkerchief from his inner breast pocket. He grasped her hand, the one that had brought him to pleasure, and wiped her hand clean of any of his seed that might have spilled on her. When he finished, he folded the handkerchief and tucked it back into the pocket.

  Evan gazed at her face, but couldn’t make out her expression.

  “I am uncertain whether to apologize or thank you,” he said.

  She laughed. “Interesting choices.”

  He pulled her close. “If you would like to come to my room, I can show my appreciation.”

  “Indeed?” She nuzzled his neck.

  His cock twitched.

  She kissed the sensitive flesh between neck and shoulder His cock began to rise. His cock hadn’t hardened this quickly after an orgasm in…longer than he cared to admit.

  “I have already taken my pleasure with you. Unless you want me to bury myself between your legs, I would advise you to wait until we reach my room to continue your assault.”

  Did she just shiver?

  “I like trees,” she whispered in his ear.

  God help him. She would send him to his grave.

  There were worse ways to die.

  Evan kissed her. He grasped her skirt and lifted. She widened her stance. His heart began to thud. She was so bold. He reached between her legs and cupped her mons. She arched into his hand. Gently, he slid a finger into her curls, then dipped between her moist folds. When
he inserted a finger inside her, she rocked against him. He might bring her to climax with his finger before his cock was hard enough to fit inside her. Maybe.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. He slid his finger in and out of her slick channel. Her small gasp against his mouth caused his heart to beat wildly. With his thumb, he gently massaged her sex as he continued to thrust his finger inside. Her grip tightened in his hair. She rocked against him. Faster, she rocked. He increased his speed. She panted.

  Evan’s cock pressed in pleasurable discomfort against his falls. He made quick work of the buttons of his falls while maintaining a rhythm. Her breath quickened. When she cried out, lust washed over him. She convulsed. Evan yanked his finger free, lifted her left leg over his hip and fitted his cock to her opening. In one quick thrust, he buried himself hilt deep. Her hold on his neck tightened. He realized her intent, lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pulled back, then drove deep again.

  Leslie pressed her face against his shoulder. He plunged so deep, Evan wasn’t sure where she began and he ended. He thrust hard and fast. She bit down on his neck. His orgasm crashed over him like a tsunami. His body went rigid. Her panting against his ear sent a shock wave through him. He thrust again.

  She drew a sharp breath and rocked against him. Evan realized she was reaching for another orgasm. He gritted his teeth and drove into her again and again and again. She arched, and he gave thanks when her channel convulsed around him. He couldn’t have lasted much longer. His pleasure had sapped his body. Aye, this woman would put him in his grave. Just as she had her first husband, he thought with a laugh.

  When she collapsed against him, Evan held her close until both their heartbeats slowed, then he gently lifted her off him and set her on her feet. She clung to him. Satisfaction rippled through him. So, he’d affected her as much as she had him.

  When she straightened, he released her, and she pulled her sleeve up over her shoulder.

  She brushed her dress, and said, “I suppose we should return to the party.”

  Evan took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, then started them back toward the mansion. “By the time we returned to the party, everyone will be talking about you,” he said.

  She laughed. “Everyone already talks about me.”

  “You seem to enjoy the attention.”

  “Sometimes it is…unavoidable.”

  “As when you challenge an earl to a race?” he asked.

  Leslie looked up at him. “You don’t approve. Why bet on me?”

  He laughed. “I dislike Barton far more than I could possibly disapprove of your racing.”

  “So, you do disapprove.”

  A moment of silence passed before he said, “Why do you race?”

  “Avoiding the question?”

  He shook his head. “If you were any other woman, I would probably disapprove.”

  “What?” She laughed. “That is by far the smoothest response I have ever heard from a man.”

  They neared the dim light that fanned out from the open balcony doors. “Most women who might race would do so to garner attention. I suspect that isn’t the case with you.”

  From the corner of his eye, Evan noted that she dropped her gaze.

  “The wind through my hair and the power of the animal beneath me are thrilling.”

  He looked down at her. “Is that so?”

  She snapped her head up and met his gaze.” You do not agree?”

  He gave a slow nod. “I am a sailor, my lady. I understand the thrill of a challenge quite intimately.”

  She smiled. “Of course, you do--and you cannot blame me. Women love thrills, as well.”

  “Is horseracing the only thing that thrills you?” he asked.

  Her mouth quirked. “There are many things in life to thrill a woman.”

  He nodded again. “So I see.”

  Chapter Five

  “What are you dreaming about, Leslie?”

  The softly spoken question startled Leslie from her thoughts. She set her tea cup on the breakfast table beside her toast and shifted her attention from the two riders she’d spotted through the window to Alice, who stood to her left.

  “Oh, Alice, I did not hear you enter. Join me for breakfast. Baroness Trent’s cook is quite good.” She nodded at the table, laden with eggs, bacon, toast, pheasant, meat pies, pastries and more.

  “I don’t believe you would have noticed Prinny himself.” Alice settled in the chair to Leslie’s left.

  “I was merely admiring the view.” Leslie lifted her steaming teacup to her lips and sipped.

  “Hmm.”

  She lowered the cup. “You must admit, it is a lovely day.”

  Alice chuckled. “I see the lovely sights this morning.” She nodded toward the riders. “The gentleman on the right is Sir Stirling,” she said an instant before they disappeared into the stables. “The other is Mr. MacLaren, if I am not mistaken.”

  She was not mistaken.

  Alice’s mouth twitched with laughter. “No wonder you are so dreamy this morning.”

  Leslie inhaled her cup’s fruity steam and wished she might request something stronger. But such a request would be unthinkable this time of day. “I admit to feeling a little dreamy.” She lifted the cup to her lips and said, “I did not sleep well.” God knows, she should have slept well, given how spent she’d been after her lovemaking with Evan in the garden. Leslie sipped the tea.

  Alice’s face crinkled with concern and she paused in filling her coffee cup. “Oh dear, not another sick headache?”

  Relief loosened her shoulders a smidgen at the change in subject. Leslie set her cup down and smiled. “No, I haven’t had one of those in ages. Truly, I believe the doctor was correct. They were part of my grief over Carr.”

  Grief or guilt? Guilt over the worry she had caused her late husband over antics that most wives would never have dared. Most women would have been too intimidated by Carr to do aught but submit and obey. Even she had trembled, inwardly, a time or two at his stern reprimands. But her exuberance had always rebounded until she found herself pulling at the reins again.

  His doctor had said his self-controlled ways and his desire to attain perfection in the running of his estate had put a strain on his heart. But she had caught Carr’s unguarded glance, a time or two—steely gray eyes softened, just a tad, by love. Her wild ways are what had put a strain on his heart.

  I am who I am. He knew when he wed me.

  A too-familiar tightening in her chest made her seek solace in her tea. Perhaps one day the guilt would fade. But her guilt was born of her genuine and deep affection for him. Yet, for all his kindness and patience in the bedchamber, outside of it, he’d refused to understand her. He had never accommodated her as she had tried to him. He had asked too much of her. She would never again subject herself to wedlock.

  “There he is.” Alice’s voice cut through her reverie.

  “Who?” Leslie lifted her gaze.

  “Young Mr. MacLaren.”

  Leslie shifted her attention to the window. He walked alongside Sir Stirling, tall and lean in his well-cut riding clothes. Her pulse skipped a beat. Even from this distance, Leslie fancied she could feel the reckless, youthful energy that radiated from him. Warmth settled low in her belly at the memory of him driving deep inside her last night. She released the breath she had unknowingly caught.

  Alice laughed. “When I see you dreamy-eyed and sighing over the mere sight of a gentleman, I fear we’re in for quite a time.”

  “I told you. I had a frightfully disturbed night.” Leslie pursed her lips and used all her willpower not to look out the window again. “I think I shall retire for a nap.”

  “But the gentlemen are coming in.”

  “They will be at their cards all day.”

  “Perhaps they will indulge us ladies in a card game.”

  Leslie frowned and pressed a hand to her head. “I do not want to chance a headache.”

  Alice
studied her, doubt in her eyes. “I have never known you to be afraid of a man, not even Carr.”

  “Afraid? Now you are being silly.”

  The doubt in Alice’s eyes turned knowing. “I do believe you have a tendre for the man.” Before Leslie could deny the accusation, Alice added, “That was an interesting…altercation between you and Mr. MacLaren’s former paramour.”

  Leslie scowled. “You love gossip too much, Alice.”

  Alice laughed without rancor. “Perhaps, but you must admit this piece of gossip is quite juicy.”

  Thankfully, the door opened and the air filled with manly scents of leather and cologne as Evan and Sir Stirling entered. Leslie repressed a groan when Alice directed a flirtatious look at MacLaren.

  “Mr. MacLaren. Sir Stirling.” Alice’s voice sounded warm and womanly.

  Sir Stirling reached her first and took the hand she extended. “Lady Langley, what a lovely surprise. After such a late evening, I had not expected to see you before noon. The rest of the household is still abed.”

  Rising in time for breakfast was a novel situation for Leslie. Usually, she dragged Alice into some madcap adventure that lasted until dawn, then slept until noon. Having spent a night full of heated dreams wasn’t like her—even after a night of such erotic lovemaking—and left her feeling oddly vulnerable. She’d woken with a strange hollowness that persisted. Until now.

  Those piercing blue eyes stared straight through to her soul. Anticipation tingled through her belly and down to her toes, as though something she’d waited a dreadfully long time for was about to happen. How ridiculous. This was just the start of another chase, another fling. One of many.

  Yet, those eyes had haunted her dreams. She released a quiet, slow breath, then resisted the urge for a languid stretch to ease the energy coiled in her muscles. She settled for tapping her toe under the table. A flash in his gaze caused her stomach to flutter. Had he discerned her feelings? Surely not. She’d always been able to maintain a cool exterior.

  “Lady Carr.” He grasped the hand she rested on the table and bent over her fingers. He looked at her as he brushed his lips across her flesh and winked.

  She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. The man was incorrigible. The men took seats opposite Leslie.