In the silence of the room, with only the crackling of the fire to disturb the calm, Lauren contemplated the true motives behind her actions. Yes, she was being kind to her servants, but she also did not want any witnesses to whatever that devil, Lord Hawthorne, had planned.
The nerve of the man. Using something as commonplace as a bit of weed to prove her desire for him. It wasn’t fair he could command her responses so easily. She couldn’t forget he meant to trick her into marriage a second time.
And yet, how could she ignore the way her body ignited when Theo touched her?
Staring into the flames of the fire, Lauren was so embroiled in her thoughts that the click of the door did not register.
The trailing of a forefinger down the nape of her neck, exposed by her upswept hair, alerted her that she wasn’t alone.
With a startled gasp, Lauren sank further into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides when she instinctively crossed her arms over bare breasts.
“Good morning, my sweet,” Theodore drawled, his hand curling into a light grip on her neck. “Did you sleep you well? I didn’t. Too many thoughts of you running through my mind, unfortunately.”
“Have you taken complete leave of your senses?” Lauren choked out. “Have you no regard for the scandal this could cause?” She thought her heart would pound out of her chest from the fright he just gave her. Thank goodness Anne added some rose oil to the bathwater. It clouded the water just enough that Lauren could retain a bit of her modesty.
Theodore stood beside the tub, his fingers caressing her nape as he stared down at her. His full lips quirked upward with a slight twist.
“No one else is about this early in the morning, and Anne told me she had no intention of returning for a while. I have the feeling she was encouraging me to check in on you.”
He was dressed for riding, although Lauren could not imagine anyone willing to venture out in such freezing temperatures. Wearing a pair of dark breeches, a white shirt, and a knee-high Hessians, he also carried a wool riding coat in the crook of his arm. She watched as he carelessly tossed it onto the same chair as her nightrail.
Her heart rate ratcheted with something suspiciously akin to desire when he teased her earlobe, the blunt ends of his fingernails grazing her flesh. “Please, Theo. You shouldn’t be here…”
“When we are wed, this will become part of our morning routine. I will play lady’s maid for you. I will gladly wash your hair, pour the oils in your bath. Cleanse your body, from your head to the tips of your toes. And everything in between.”
While he spoke, his fingers traveled from her earlobe to the slope of her shoulder, then down along the delicate line of her collarbone. Lauren sucked in a breath, sinking further into the water, but that did not deter him.
Pulling a sprig of mistletoe from a small pocket of his breeches, he dangled it over her forehead, then tucked it away when she frowned up at him. This mistletoe business was becoming quite ridiculous. Did he intend on carrying the blasted plant with him everywhere he went? Did he mean to back her into a corner at every turn with it?
Chuckling, Theodore moved closer and gripped her chin with his free hand. With gentle pressure, he forced her gaze to meet his. His blue eyes were so bright with promise that Lauren felt her heart squeeze in response even through her frustrated anger.
“I can show you more pleasure than you could ever imagine, my love, by simply touching you,” he murmured, fingers dancing between the exposed border of flesh and the silky skin beneath the water’s edge. “But I will not take from you what you are unwilling to give. Tell me to leave and I will go.”
The demand was on the very tip of her tongue, but the words died a quick death. Lauren could only swallow and gaze up at him, wondering what pleasures he spoke of. What delights could be experienced with a mere brush of his fingers?
The longer she remained mute, the more it appeared she wished him to stay.
“Lauren?” Theodore’s hand tightened on her chin, his thumb rising to graze her lower lip as though testing its softness.
Lauren had no idea what possessed her, she really didn’t, but her lips parted slightly as she stared into the wintery indigo depths of Theodore’s eyes. Her tongue darted out, swiping at his thumb in quick exploration before she let him push it further into the depths of her mouth.
Something very wicked and primal and unbearably wild roared to life inside her when she observed his hunger.
Yes, he will consume me, drown me in lust and want. I’m foolish enough to believe I can withstand the onslaught and not long for more.
Theodore’s eyes burned as he moved his thumb deeper until her tongue curled around it, and her mouth closed over it with an innocent understanding of what he wanted. So intent was Lauren on watching his eyes as they ignited into twin flames that she truly did not pay heed to his other hand until suddenly it was below the waterline. Touching her breasts. Smoothing the globes alternately with his palm, measuring and caressing until Lauren’s back arched the slightest bit, and her breasts broke the water’s surface.
A muscle ticked in Theodore’s clenched jaw, but his hand remained steady as he stroked her.
“A favor I will take this time.”
His words were a growled rumble that oddly enough vibrated inside her chest as if he’d cut her open and deposited them there.
Then his fingers plucked one taut, dusky rose nipple, quickly followed by the same treatment of the other, and Lauren moaned softly. Almost convulsively, she swallowed around his thumb, unable to stop herself from doing so again and again as he softly pinched and tweaked the pebbled, sensitive peaks of her breasts.
Pressure was building within her, sparking the nerves hidden behind the soft folds at the apex of her thighs. It was unbearable. She wanted him to touch her there. To thrust his fingers deep inside her and extinguish the raging fire.
It was torture. It was pleasure. It was everything she never realized she needed. Now she wanted it all, and in the midst of the whirlwind, she hated Theodore Hawthorne for awakening this hunger.
“You are so beautiful, Lauren.” Theodore’s voice was a gravelly mix of desire and awe. “I cannot wait for the day you are truly mine. How foolish you’ve been, keeping yourself from me.”
Lauren froze as if drenched by a bucket of cold water. Giving his thumb a sharp, little nip, she shoved him away at the same time.
Jerking away with a low growl, Theodore examined the tiny wound then sucked off the drop of blood. For a heartbeat, his eyes narrowed while he studied Lauren’s face, almost as if he couldn’t believe she’d snapped at him.
“The day I am yours?” Lauren spat. “I still haven’t forgiven you for lying to me, so I can’t say for certain I’ll ever be yours. You’ve had your fun this morning, Hawthorne, with your silly mistletoe. Now, get out of my room before I scream this house down around your ears.”
The threat did not seem to faze him in the least. With a low bow, he turned and scooped up his coat.
“I’ll go, Lauren.” The smile he gave her was unnerving, but far more unsettling was the moment he leaned forward and tipped her chin up so he could stare into her eyes. “We shall finish this later.”
Chapter 5
Each time Theodore closed his eyes, he saw Lauren’s breasts. Perfect. Round. Slightly bigger than the palm of his hand and tipped with the most delectable rose-hued nipples.
Given the chance, he would have played with her all day. Would have bent his head and tasted those lovely peaks after teasing them to stand at stiff attention. Would have slid his hand down her flat, silken stomach until he speared the damp curls between her thighs. He would have swallowed her whimpers of pleasure as he penetrated her tight passage with his fingers and stroked her to completion.
Theodore rubbed a hand over his face, mentally scrubbing away the images from his brain.
Lauren was proving quite resistant to his attempts thus far, although he sensed her underlying weakness. He’d awoken a tiny flame of desire deep within her. Fanning
those flames higher would require ruthless dedication. He would not relent until she realized how much he truly loved her and how he regretted his role in what their fathers had done.
While waiting for Lauren’s appearance downstairs, Theodore took notice of the abundance of mistletoe hung around the mansion. It adorned nearly every passageway, doorway, and window that he could see. Penelope even took the opportunity of having it dangled from the chandeliers.
There were not many places Lauren would be safe, and that pleased him greatly.
“Why are you not gone?” Lauren asked behind him, sounding quite vexed.
Pivoting toward her, his grin widened at the sight of her standing in the entrance to the dining room.
He bit back a laugh when she glanced heavenward and then rushed forth so she wasn’t caught beneath the kissing bough again.
“Gone?” Theodore’s brow raised, taking in the butter-hued morning dress she wore. It complimented her rich brown hair and its honey-streaked highlights perfectly. He wondered how long her hair was. He’d never seen it down—it was always in some kind of bun or elaborate updo.
Today, it was piled into a shining mass high on her head, the straight length wrapped around itself in a braided coronet. Wispy tendrils brushed her ears, softening the effect. It looked lovely on her, reminding him again how tender the exposed nape of her neck was.
“Yes. Gone. I thought you were riding this morning?”
Theodore seated himself at the table, watching one of the servants pour coffee for him. He’d taken a liking to the stuff. Thank God Penelope and George served it as occasionally he desired something a bit stronger than an insipid cup of tea.
“I am. Care to join me?” he offered politely.
Lauren bit her lip before shaking her head. “It’s far too cold for riding. Besides, Penelope asked that the ladies prepare sweetmeat and almond papers today for decorating the tree.”
“Sounds incredibly boring.”
Theodore thought she might reprimand him, but after a moment, she sighed in agreement. “It does. But regardless, it’s still too cold for riding.”
He couldn’t believe she was actively, albeit not enthusiastically, subtly seeking his company.
“We could go ice skating instead.” Sipping his coffee, Theodore watched over the cup’s rim as she slid into the chair beside his.
“Still rather cold…” Lauren frowned, picking up a fork and testing the sharpness of the tines.
“We could have a fire near the water’s edge. A few blankets…” He poured her a cup of tea, dismissing a hovering servant with a wave of his hand. “Settleton says the pond is frozen solid.”
Lauren accepted the cup pushed toward her, dropping two sugar cubes into the steaming liquid. She stirred the tea with a tiny silver spoon while considering him beneath a fringe of dark lashes, her eyes twin pools of cloudy grey.
“I’ve never ice skated before.”
“I’ll show you how it’s done,” Theodore immediately offered.
The look she gave him was frankly suspicious, and Theodore could not help but laugh. But before he could voice any assurances that he held no ulterior motives, George and Lord Sanderson bustled into the room.
Theodore’s eyes narrowed to see Sanderson’s face light up when he realized Lauren was seated at the table. He wanted to stand and block the man’s path when he strode toward her.
With great effort, Theodore remained seated.
“Lady Lauren, how wonderful to discover you are an early riser like myself!” Sanderson lifted her hand, pressed a kiss to it, then took the chair on her opposite side while Theodore grit his teeth. George plopped down at the head of the table, a curious expression crossing his handsome face.
“A habit developed during my time away from society,” Lauren murmured, sipping her tea again. “Mornings have become my favorite time of the day.”
Theodore relaxed in his chair with a lazy grin. “Mornings often start with the best of surprises.”
Lauren’s eyes shot to his, and his lazy grin left no doubt he referred to the intrusion of her bedchamber earlier. Her mouth tightened, her cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink at the reminder.
“What are your plans for the day, Lady Lauren?” Sanderson inquired, touching her elbow.
“I’m not sure—” she began when Theodore interrupted, his voice coolly aloof.
“We are going ice skating.”
Sanderson blinked at his tone, and George’s brow rose slightly before Theodore’s apparent rival recovered.
“Ice skating? I say, that sounds like just the thing. What do you think, Settleton? We could all make an afternoon of it as I’m sure there are others who would enjoy the bracing winter air and an opportunity to exhibit their skills.” Sanderson exclaimed in excitement, “Yes, it’s a wonderful idea.”
If it’s so bloody wonderful, why does the idea of others around us annoy me? Theodore brooded as George shot him a covert glance before granting his approval of the plan.
Before Theodore knew what was happening, the quiet interlude with Lauren was completely taken over. While this turn of events irritated him beyond belief, Lauren seemed quite pleased.
The twinkle in her eyes was taken as a challenge he could not and would not ignore.
Under the clatter of breakfast dishes being set up by the servants, Theodore whispered in Lauren’s ear, “Be warned, sweetheart. The woods around that pond are full of mistletoe. You couldn’t drag me away with a team of horses now.”
Chapter 6
Lauren huddled closer to the circle of stones making up a rather large firepit. Several iron benches provided seating, and if one desired a mug of hot apple cider to warm their insides, a large vat of the beverage was kept warm in the coals.
Curling her gloved hands around the tin cup, Lauren smiled as she watched Penelope and George glide arm and arm. Her lovely cousin gazed at the viscount in obvious adoration, her laughter echoing across the open space with that of the other guests.
A tiny frisson of envy struck Lauren without warning. The unwelcome emotion was startling, but most confusing was why on earth her gaze unerringly sought out the Earl of Hawthorne.
He’d reluctantly left her behind after she refused his command to join him on the pond’s frozen surface. Now, he slid effortlessly over the ice, his forearm held tight by a simpering chit.
A second cousin to George, Lady Melanie Overton was blonde, willowy, and quite the flirt. Lauren had met her several times at various social functions. While cordial to one another, their interactions never progressed any further than that, and Penelope once confessed to Lauren her dislike for the girl.
Now, Lauren watched helplessly as Melanie stumbled and Theodore easily steadied her with an arm slipped around her waist. Pulling her tighter against his body, he said something that made the lady laugh. Then she turned slightly until it almost appeared as though they danced the waltz on steel blades.
Dropping her gaze, Lauren swallowed past the lump in her throat. Even with the warmth of the vessel in her hands and the heat of the flames from the firepit, she shivered.
“Shall I procure a blanket, Lady Lauren?” Lord Sanderson plopped down on the bench with an easygoing smile. Slipping the ice-skates from his feet, he set them aside.
“That would be very kind.” A few moments later, a thick, red woolen blanket lay draped about her shoulders.
“There. That should do the trick until you decide to venture onto the ice. The exertion warms the blood very quickly, I find.”
“I believe I shall return to the house once I’ve finished my cider.” Lauren gave him an apologetic smile, fighting the urge to stare in the direction of the pond when a peal of laughter rang out.
It sounded suspiciously like Lady Melanie Overton.
“Oh, that won’t do at all! You’ve not even taken a turn around the pond. Come, I’ll help you. You shan’t fall as long as you hold on to me,” Sanderson urged. “I’ll find you a pair of skates, and you’ll see it’s
grand fun.”
Lauren said nothing. Taking another sip of cider, she dared a peek toward the pond and wished she hadn’t.
Coming toward them, Theodore and Melanie trudged through a thin layer of snow. Melanie was laughing with delight, cheeks pink with exertion while the earl oddly enough seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes were pools of icy blue when they slid over Lauren and Sanderson sitting so cozily together.
Finding an empty bench across from them, the pair sat down, Theodore’s long legs stretching almost obscenely in Lauren’s direction. She nearly winced as Melanie snuggled closer as if warming herself simply by hugging his arm.
“It’s dreadfully cold once you stop moving, isn’t it?” Melanie exclaimed, her teeth biting her bottom lip in a pretty gesture as she gazed up at Theodore.
“I was explaining to Lady Lauren, if she only took a turn, she would warm up nicely,” Sanderson offered. “I’m afraid she doesn’t believe me, however. Perhaps you can convince her, Lady Melanie. After all, you appear quite flushed.”
Melanie’s eyelashes fluttered as she acknowledged Lord Sanderson, and Lauren experienced the overwhelming urge to rip the feathery things out by their roots.
“Ice-skating may not be completely at fault,” she simpered, giving Theodore another besotted look before gracefully removing the skates from her dainty feet. “Lord Hawthorne believes I’m in danger of twisting an ankle, so we agreed I should rest for a moment.” By her tone, she had every expectation Theodore would rest along with her.
“This is a perfect opportunity!” Sanderson crowed, retrieving Melanie’s skates before Lauren could form a protest. Kneeling in front of her with the things in hand, he reached beneath her skirts.
With a low growl, Theodore rose to his feet. In two steps, he was towering over the other man.
“What the devil do you think you are doing, Sanderson? Get your blasted hands off of her.”
With a ruthless shove, Theodore knocked Sanderson away from Lauren and just as quickly took his place, unmindful of the damage the snow might do to his trousers. “If anyone will be touching these lovely ankles, it shall be myself alone,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 108