“Please don’t. I’m being an arse.” Robert’s words and expression both apologetic and desperate.
Before Mary could move or think, he pulled her against him with his good arm, wincing for a moment before lowering his face to hers and kissing her softly. Robert’s lips were warm, soft, and pliant. As this was her first kiss, she didn’t know what to expect. But the softness and gentleness of his lips was not it. The sound of a moan traveled to her ears, whether it came from Robert or her, she didn’t know. Perhaps both of them.
His large hand splayed against the small of her back, pulling her even closer to his body. A hard bulge nudged against her lower stomach, and this time it was Robert who moaned. His lips coaxed hers apart, and she tried not to act shocked when his tongue entered her mouth and swirled around and around until she joined her tongue with his and they twirled and danced together.
“Mary,” Robert breathed against her lips. “You need to tell me to stop because I can’t.”
“Can’t stop what,” she murmured into his mouth. Her head tingled and her body felt weightless, as though she were floating in his arms.
“My dear innocent Mary.” He went to step back and she reached out pulling him close again.
“No. This is what I want. You are what I want.” Even though she didn’t understand the depth of her words or what her body craved, she couldn’t let him go. “Please kiss me again.”
And he did. His hand cupped her cheek reverently as he dropped his head and kissed her again. Not the same as before. This kiss, even with her inexperience, conveyed something altogether different than the gentle one of before. His mouth devoured hers. He used his tongue, his teeth as he plundered her mouth, making her grip one side of his waistcoat lapel to steady herself as her knees buckled. Time stood still around them. His upper body shifted slightly, and his questing hand cupped her breast. His fingers circled her nipple until it hardened, and to her surprise he pinched her, and she felt the sensation down low between her thighs. Her womanhood awakened, and she needed him to do something to satisfy it.
The room and all its contents melted into nothingness. The only sound was a buzzing in her ears. His hand skimmed down her side, across her stomach and found her womanhood. The tips of his fingers touched her there through the fabric of her skirts and she gasped with shock. Shock that turned to pleasure as he continued seeking her core. Her hips seemed to know what to do as they pushed against his hand, seeking something elusive and mysterious.
Every muscle in her body liquefied. Moist heat, like she’d never experienced before, pooled between her legs. Her lower stomach coiled up tight. Something unlike anything she ever experienced crashed into her and she broke the kiss, buried her face against Robert’s chest, and gasped loudly trying to catch her breath.
It seemed forever before she trusted herself to speak. “What happened?” she whispered as her body continued to tremble.
The sound of Robert chuckling was music to her ears. “You, my dear, sensual innocent, experienced your first sexual release.”
She gasped, raised her head and looked into Robert’s beautiful molten brown eyes.
“How’s that possible? It didn’t hurt. Can I become with child?” As she said the words, panic hit her and she trembled.
He held her close to his heart. “No sweetheart. Much more needs to occur for that to happen. I give you my word, I will never compromise you in that way. Just for your knowledge, there are many ways to pleasure a woman without risking breeding or taking her virginity.”
“What about you, are there ways to pleasure a man without...” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him as her cheeks were aflame with embarrassment.
“Yes,” he choked out.
“Will you show me?”
Something resembling both a groan and laugh came from Robert. “My dear, Mary, you will be the death of me.”
“Mary,” Elizabeth called to her from behind the closed door. “I know you are in there. Please come out now. I must speak to you.”
“I must go.” Mary hurried from the room, not glancing back at Robert. Afraid to look because if she did she would blush even deeper. One look at her face and Elizabeth would know something had happened.
AFTER MARY LEFT, ROBERT could still see her pink cheeks, her soft blue eyes, and her pert little nose causing his heart to split wide open. He should have forced her to leave the moment she entered his room. Said hurtful words, anything to not feel the heartache that would surely come to both of them. He couldn’t do it. He would do anything within his power to never hurt her. Never be the cause of her tears as he’d witnessed only minutes ago. He’d never realized until then how much her tears would affect him. Women had cried in his presence before, even women he’d bedded, but never had he felt anything. Well, perhaps remorse or guilt, but not feelings related to the heart.
Mary? What was he to do about Mary and his all-encompassing feelings for her? Kissing her had singlehandedly been the most precious, intimate, and loving experience of his entire eight and twenty years of life. There were no words to describe the shock that rocked his body when she’d exploded in his arms, causing him to nearly come in his breeches. How embarrassing that would have been. Mary was a true innocent, although not so much anymore, she would not have understood the wet stain on his buff breeches. God forbid she thought he’d pissed himself.
The entire time Robert held Mary in his arms, kissing and fondling her, his upper body burned like fire. Not just from his wounds but from the ache inside his chest knowing this may possibly be the one and only time he held her so dear to his heart. He was a realist and didn’t for the life of him expect Mr. Spencer to allow him to court his sister. The hell with courting, he wanted to marry her and spend the rest of his life showering her with his love. To appease her, he would stay, at least until her brother arrived and he could confront him with his attentions. He owed it to Mary to do so. Because he didn’t want either of them to wonder for the rest of their lives if they could’ve been together.
However, he could see it now. Spencer would have Amesbury’s burliest male servant throw his sorry arse out, and then beat him to within an inch of his life. His body vibrated from head to toe. It was no less than he deserved for trying to be better than he was.
He’d taken advantage of a member of the aristocracy. He could see Newgate in his future clear as day. He wouldn’t last twenty-four hours before being killed as he’d sent too many criminals to that horrific place. One of them would kill him in his sleep while the guards changed shifts. Happened all the time. The thought of Mary mourning over him was like a stab to his heart. He wished Spencer would arrive so he could get this over with.
Chapter Six
The moment Mary exited Smythe’s chamber, Elizabeth knew by her disheveled hair and clothes and the strawberry red of her cheeks that something had happened. “Come.” She took her sister’s hand, pulling her down the hall and another until they were in the privacy of her bedchamber. Both taking a seat on the chaise facing the warm hearth, Elizabeth turned and said, “Tell me. I’m dying to know what happened.”
To her horror Mary buried her face in her hands and cried. Elizabeth placed her hand on her back and rubbed in circles. “There, there, it can’t be all that bad.”
Mary sniffled and cleared her throat. “I’m not crying because I’m sad. It’s because I’m overwhelmed with feelings. Feelings I don’t quite understand and then there is the love bursting from my heart for Robert.”
“It’s Robert now, is it?”
Mary giggled, raised her head, and wiped her tears away. “Yes. Such a strong name. Robert Smythe.”
“I can’t believe you are calling each other by your first names, and I’m still referring to Amesbury as...well...Amesbury. He has yet to ask me to call him Edward. Perhaps I shall request him to call me Elizabeth and without insulting me he must insist I call him Edward.”
“Yes, indeed, that will work.”
“Is it my imagination or does Edward,
I can call him Edward to you, seem distant and moody since we arrived. I truly thought he invited us here specifically so he could get to know me better. What a stupid fool I am. I know he had many guests on his list, and most couldn’t come, and our brother and Miranda will be here in a few days, but still, he seems distant. Every other time we attended gatherings at country estates, there is always much planned and many things to do. If it is at an estate of a single gentleman, usually they have a female relative to act as hostess.” She paused then gasped. “He has no relatives, female or male. Perhaps I should offer my services to act as his...”
“No,” Mary interjected. “That would be too presumptuous. Besides, it was only going to be close friends attending. I think it was meant to be relaxing and an intimate affair. I don’t believe Amesbury meant to have all those silly games, planned rides, and hunts like most country gatherings.”
“Oh my God.” Elizabeth jumped up. I forgot Edward asked me to go riding. It must be past time I’m supposed to meet him downstairs.” She went to the wardrobe and grabbed her burgundy riding habit and matching hat. “Please help me change. I hope he doesn’t think I’m not joining him.”
Elizabeth practically ran through the halls and down the stairs and out the door so fast the doorman never had a chance to open the door for her. She turned the knob and swung it open in a flash, then paused to catch her breath and smooth her skirts. She also took a moment to watch Amesbury as his back faced her.
Calm now, she said, “Forgive me for being tardy.”
At the sound of her voice, he pivoted and smiled, taking the air from her lungs. Amesbury had always been beyond handsome. Standing now in his buff riding breeches that hugged his thighs, his cut-away dark brown riding coat, cream waistcoat and cream linen shirt and cravat left her speechless. And that was before she took in his face, his thick brown wavy hair, hazel eyes, not green or blue, but something in-between. His jaw was finely chiseled and his nose slightly crooked. She recalled he’d broken it once in a fight at Eaton. Wentworth, Myles, and Amesbury, she’d heard were hellions back in their Eaton days. Truth be told, they were known as the rakehells until several years ago. Her heart flipped.
“All is forgiven. Come, meet your horse.” Something had changed between breakfast and now. Amesbury appeared relaxed as he moved with liquid grace to stand beside her mount. “Her name is Peppermint. She is calm, graceful, and not easily spooked.” He laughed. “She also likes peppermint candies. I keep a supply in my pocket for her.” As he spoke the horse nudged his side, no doubt smelling the treat.
A groomsman came forward with a wooden block, but Amesbury waved him off and he helped her mount Peppermint himself. Yes, indeed, something had changed. This was the Amesbury she’d known and fallen in love with in London during the beginning of the Season. What had made him moody and distant since she arrived she couldn’t say. Of course, it could have something to do with them being attacked by highwaymen and Mr. Smythe being shot. Once she was settled in the sidesaddle, his hands lingered on her waist, their eyes met, and she found herself drowning in the deep depths of his radiant orbs.
He bowed his head ever so slightly, turned, and mounted his horse a tad awkwardly which surprised her. “I had cook pack us a picnic lunch.” Until now she hadn’t noticed the saddlebags. “It’s sure to be a treat.”
Amesbury clicked his reins and set his horse’s pace at a slow walk. She and Amesbury rode side by side in silence for a time until he spoke. “I thought we could first explore the village and then part of my lands. There is a meadow of wildflowers still blooming, although they are starting to wilt with the cooling nights. Or we could ride toward the cliffs and the channel.”
“I see cliffs and the English Channel in Dover quite often, I would love to see the village and the meadow. How many acres do you have?”
“As this is not my ancestral home, the lands are not as great in size, nor do I have as many tenants. I have a little over a thousand acres and thirty tenants.” Turning his head, their eyes met and her heart leaped at the longing she glimpsed. She’d never really thought about Edward being lonely because he had a closeness with Wentworth and Myles, not to mention, a friendship with Bridgeton and Spencer. However, now that she thought about it, when he retired to his home at night, he was alone. Had been alone since his family died. What did he do to occupy his time? Her heart constricted. She didn’t think she could be alone. She and Mary were as close as sisters could be, making Elizabeth wonder how she would live without Mary when one of them married.
With her woolgathering, she found herself far behind Edward. She clicked the reins and sent Peppermint into a trot and found herself next to Edward in no time.
“I was wondering when you’d realize you were lagging behind,” Amesbury said with a chuckle.
“My mind wandered. I apologize.”
“None necessary, and please call me Edward.”
Elizabeth wanted to dismount and twirl around in joy. Finally, Edward gave her permission to use his Christian name. “Then you must call me Elizabeth.”
They rode to the village, bustling with fishmongers, farmers, and flower peddlers hocking their wares. Edward and she visited shops and he introduced her to the shopkeepers. He purchased lavender and vanilla scented soap for her at the soap store and a posy of heather and daisies from the flower vender even though she could pick her own in the meadow. How thoughtful of Edward. Then they rode aimlessly around for almost an hour.
With the village far behind, Elizabeth, feeling elated after Edward’s thoughtfulness to her, kicked her horse into a canter and took off over the field of tall green grasses. Eventually her horse slowed and Edward came up beside her.
“I thought you would race me.” She said catching her breath.
He grinned at her and her heart melted. “I enjoyed the view from behind.”
Realizing what Edward would have been watching, had Elizabeth’s cheeks heating with embarrassment.
“Here we are.” Edward dismounted then helped her as they stood in the middle of wildflowers as far as the eye could see. She did admit the colors were not as vibrant as they would have been in the early days of summer, but they still took her breath away. She inhaled deeply, reveling in the aroma of lavender as it overpowered all other scents.
Edward tied their horses to an ancient, gnarly tree with most of its bark gone. He opened his saddlebag and spread a blanket on the ground beneath another old tree, trying not to squish the flowers. How considerate of him. How many gentlemen would worry about the wildflowers.
“Please sit. I’ll bring the food over.”
Elizabeth, careful of her skirts, sat down on one side of the blanket, crossed her legs beneath her skirts, making sure they were covered. Her eyes drifted to Edward as he juggled several items, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his large capable hands, making her wonder what those hands would feel like on her body. Heat suffused her cheeks and she turned away lest he see her blush. There were times, many times, she wished mothers would share with their daughters the intimacies of the marriage bed when they came out for their first Season instead of waiting until the night before they said their marriage vows. Of course, in her case, it would be her grandmother, how mortifying. Oh, Elizabeth had knowledge that came from books, but somehow pictures only made her imagination worse. When Miranda arrived, she planned on waylaying her into telling her and Mary everything involved in making love with a man.
“You seem to be woolgathering again, Elizabeth. Am I that boring?”
Startled, her cheeks warming once again, she replied, “Not at all. I was looking around and thinking how lovely your place is,” she lied. She had to. She couldn’t very well tell him her wayward thoughts.
“I am fortunate. Too bad I don’t spend much time here.” He opened the wine, poured her a glass, and handed it to her, then poured his. “I prefer the hustle and bustle of London. Even in the dead of winter or in the heat of summer when most of the ton is at their country estates. There is still so
me gathering or another to attend and my clubs never close.” He drank deeply of his glass while Elizabeth sipped the sweet wine. How did he know she liked her wine on the sweet side?
“I never thought much about what others were doing when we retire to the country. Would you like me to serve lunch?”
“No.” His lips twisted up into a crooked grin, taking her breath away. “You are my guest.” He filled two plates with finger sandwiches, bits of chicken, fruit and cheese. He handed over her plate with a napkin and smiled. “Bon appétit. Cook informed me she made raspberry tart for dessert.”
“Oh yummy, my favorite,” Elizabeth said between bites of her cucumber sandwich. “How did she know?”
Edward shrugged his shoulders and looked as though he had a secret. “No idea. Lucky guess I think.” He popped a grape in his mouth and took his time chewing all the while never taking his eyes off her. “Cook made the raspberry tart because it’s my favorite.”
Smiling with excitement, Elizabeth said, “We’ve something in common then.”
Placing his now empty plate beside him on the blanket, he leaned toward her. “I think we have more in common than that.” He reached out, her eyes riveted on his hand, and he cupped her cheek. The contact took her breath away. “I hope, no...think, we have other things in common than tarts.”
The intensity of his eyes and the warmth of his hand had her leaning toward him, anticipating his lips connecting with hers. Instead they stayed, swaying toward each other, eyes locked in an emotional discovery. She uncurled her legs so they were straight out, ignoring the sudden air wafting up her skirts. Time evaporated, the wildflowers disappeared around them, it felt as though they were floating on a cloud, the only two people in the world. Only now mattered. Time and consequences weren’t relevant.
Edward blinked, breaking the spell. He pulled back, and she almost fell to the blanket in a frustrated huff. Instead she busied her hands covering her ankles with her skirts and focusing straight ahead. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest, and she inhaled deeply several times. It felt as though she’d been holding her breath for hours.
The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts Page 6