He opened the carriage door. “Into the carriage with you, my lady. You, too, Hilda. Jenson, drive them home while I deal with this ass.”
The carriage took off with a lurch, and she pressed her face against the window. The last thing she saw was Aaron standing over the Stuart lord, a dirk in his hand. Oh dear lord, would he kill him?
Chapter Nineteen
Half an hour later, Aaron strode the short distance up the high street toward Crystal’s abode, the blood boiling in his veins. His right hand hurt like the dickens, but he could clench and unclench his fingers, so he assumed he hadn’t broken it.
He saw Jenson and his conveyance waiting near the high street next to the close where Crystal lived. “The lady arrived safely, Jenson?”
“Yes, my lord. I escorted the ladies to their door as instructed,” Jenson said.
Now, how to extract Crystal from her abode so she could spend the night in his bed… A promise was a promise. The thought of her cooled his temper a bit.
He had itched to drive his dirk into that damned fool Stuart, whose careless behavior had no doubt warned the weaver delegates they were being spied upon. But Aaron had drawn the line at murder, forcing himself to be satisfied with a bone-crunching punch.
“Wait here,” he instructed his driver, then turned and loped across the courtyard and up the stairs to her front door.
The door opened before he could knock, and Crystal flew into his arms.
“Do you open your own door now?” he asked, looking over her head to see Hilda standing behind her with a scowl.
“I couldn’t prevent her. Right upset she is, my lord,” Hilda said.
“Did the brute hurt you?” he asked Crystal, his tone solicitous.
She pulled out of his arms and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I didn’t want to leave you there. I didnae ken what would happen next. I saw the dirk.”
He pulled out his kerchief and handed it to her, his heart warming at the concern in her voice. “Dinnae be afeard on my account. I fought Stuart in the boxing ring at Eton many a time, and he has yet to best me. I believe I had him at a disadvantage this evening.”
“Aye, with one punch,” she said, pride shining in her eyes.
He’d not had such a lovely maiden proud of him before, and he liked the feeling. He’d like it even more if she showed him how appreciative she was tonight…if he could extract her from under the nose of her disapproving maid.
“I had a little help from the tavern keeper’s lads. I summoned the constable to lock him in the cells for the night to cool down. He’s not suitable to serve his majesty, and I won’t have him threatening you.”
“Now he is your enemy, too,” she said, drying her eyes, folding the handkerchief and handing it back to him.
Even tearful, she was beautiful, and he would have kissed her senseless if her maid had not been standing close by. “So it would seem. He needs to learn my family holds the power here, not his.”
“Promise you won’t do anything foolish. I can see your blood is up. This will be all over the broadsheets tomorrow, and again it will look as if you have designs on me.”
“I do have designs on you.” He raised his eyebrows, realizing he couldn’t stay away from her when his whole body was pulsing with longing.
She met his gaze, and he could see the desire in her eyes. “Never mind. I refuse to stop seeing you because of that fool.”
He pulled her in to his arms, not caring that her maid was there. “Will you keep your promise to me?”
She swallowed and looked past him to her maid. “Hilda, get my portmanteau. I’m leaving with Lord Lyle.”
“Leaving, my lady?” Hilda said in consternation. “Why did you not tell me earlier? I would have packed my bag.”
“You won’t be accompanying me,” Crystal said.
Aaron turned to see the maid’s horrified expression.
“You heard me. Please don’t keep me waiting. I already have mine packed,” Crystal said.
“My lady?” Hilda paused, her gaze pleading.
“Go. Do as I ask,” Crystal said, her voice firm but soft.
Finally. He could feel her body trembling next to his, no doubt knowing she was about to break every social convention there was. She was from the right social background—the most interesting, feisty, and beautiful woman. He couldn’t marry her. He knew that. She was unsuitable to have as a wife, but he could think of naught but having her.
She was finally his.
Chapter Twenty
“Have you given your staff the night off again?” Crystal asked Aaron as they walked into his house. Although there were a few candles burning and the entry had a sweet scent of flowers from a large bowl of wood anemones on the hallstand, the house had an empty feel about it.
“Yes. They are rather fortunate, are they not? I have given them the whole evening and tomorrow, so we must fend for ourselves. Though I instructed my cook to prepare dinner, so we won’t starve.” He stood so close she could feel his body warmth and see the smile in his eyes.
“You must be very certain of me,” she said as he helped her out of her pelisse. His gloved fingers stroked her collarbone, making her shiver with pleasure. She hung her bonnet and slipped off her kid gloves.
“I sent a message to my butler when you made your promise. I trusted you were a woman of your word.”
“I’m a Wilding. That should never have been in doubt,” she said, her mouth dry with nerves. Oh dear, was she sounding waspish?
He peeled off his gloves and hung his coat and hat on the hook by the door. She studied his well-formed hands, wondering how they would feel on her body. Would his touch be tender enough to assuage her nerves?
“It isn’t that I doubted you. I simply didnae want to raise my hopes too high.” He smiled at her, his face full of longing, his body near to hers in the small entryway.
“I hope, given the unfortunate incident this evening, we will be able to maintain our privacy.” She clutched the lapels of his jacket. “Aaron, I don’t want the doors of Edinburgh to close in my face just when I’ve started my work. Those young weavers need me. I’m scared of what we’re about to do.”
He scooped her into his arms and climbed the stairs as if she were light as a kitten, going up two levels to the third-floor landing.
“Dinnae be afeard, for our time together will be a well-guarded secret. I know that’s not a real answer, but I dinnae wish to stop seeing you. This longing is a madness that will not cease. It makes me wonder if…”
The way he looked at her, the way he said he yearned for her…it was clear he had deep feelings for her. This heady sensation must be what Hilda said happened when a couple wasn’t forced into marriage.
Not that she wanted to wed, for that would ruin all her plans.
“Wonder what?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
He swept her into his bedroom and placed her on his bed. His bed, made of carved mahogany and hung with curtains, had a fat mattress and lovely large feather bolsters. The candles burned low, and there was a small fire crackling in the grate, giving the room a cozy feel.
She sat on the bed, watching as he fought to untie his cravat, his face a frown as it tangled in his fingers. “Do you need help?” she asked.
“What do you know about undressing a gentleman?” he asked, frustration making his tone gruff.
“More than you, clearly. I’ve never seen such a fumble fingers.”
His fierce blue eyes blazed with heat when he caught her gaze. He shook his hand and winced. “My hand aches, and it is stiffening.”
Along with his cock. She could see the rod-like shape pressing against the fall of his pantaloons, already large. She wondered if she was bringing more trouble on herself than she could handle. God help me.
He grinned at her expression, which relaxed his face
, and his eyes shone when he saw where she was looking. “I’m glad I’ve caught your interest, but I can also see I’ve lost my manners. Would you like some wine before we continue?”
“Aye, I’m in great need of fortification. My nerves are pulled asunder. I’ve a hunger in me for you that willnae rest. I’m out of my depth, but curious, too.”
And, under his beguiling spell, close to losing her naïveté.
He smiled as he took up a bottle and poured two glasses of wine, offering her one. “To our rare moments together. To an extraordinary and beautiful lady. You have changed my whole life for the better.”
“To my brave lord.” She raised her glass, clinking his, warmed by the deep evocation of his words. “You’re changing mine as we speak. Will you continue to undress? I’m enjoying watching.”
“I’m planning to, if my hand will cooperate,” he said, shrugging off his coat and throwing it over a chair.
“Oh, my poor dear. Is it broken?”
“I think not. Just swollen,” he said.
“Come closer, for I’m quite good with buttons.” She moved to the edge of the bed and set her wineglass aside on a small table, and he joined her.
Soon she had his waistcoat and the buttons of his white linen shirt undone, leaving him in a wonderful state of undress. Her insides liquefied. Oh, he was handsome, more suited to being in a painting on horseback with foxhounds…or perhaps a marble statue. She could scarcely believe he was real. If she was ever to spread her wings, this was the lord to do it with, for the look of him made it seem like a fairy tale, even though he was every bit flesh and blood.
He pulled his shirt over his head, and it joined the coat. Left in his pantaloons, his body was sculpted, all power, smooth skin with a slight smattering of dark hair across his chest. Her breath jammed, and she stared, her hunger for him growing. She couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and touch his hard nipples.
His stomach clenched when she did, all rippling muscles.
“Are my fingers too cold?” she asked.
“Your fingers are perfect,” he said, his voice low and husky.
Despite the impropriety of her actions, she was afraid she might drool when she deftly undid the ten buttons of his pantaloons.
“Nice work, my lady,” he said, pulling off his Hessian boots and discarding them, along with the rest of his clothing, so he stood proud and erect in front of her.
Oh my God.
He wasn’t big. He was huge. And it was too late to back out now, even though he’d insisted they’d only touch each other tonight. She gaped at him, her heart beating way too fast…yet yearning wove its way through her once she’d recovered from her shock. The sight of him was intoxicating. This was all so new. So exciting. So wicked.
She longed to feel his hands on her naked flesh.
“Now you,” he said.
She trembled and reached for her glass of wine, taking a large drink. “I’ve never been naked in front of a man.”
“Would you prefer me to blow out the candles?” he asked solicitously.
“That wouldn’t be fair,” she said with a bravery she didn’t feel.
“Another thing I admire about you. No matter how nervous you are, you never back down,” he said.
“It can be to my detriment at times. Often, I don’t have expertise, and yet I plunge ahead. Like now. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
She shouldn’t be here, an unmarried lady in a lord’s bedroom. But desire for him burned so brightly it eclipsed everything. She wanted to put words into action. Men and women should be able to love each other without marriage.
“I dinnae expect you to have expertise. I want to be your first.” He bent and picked up her foot. She started and gave a nervous squeak, her hands flying to her flaming cheeks.
“Trust me, my lady. Dinnae let your nerves get the better of you. I plan to worship all of you when you are naked. You willnae have regrets,” he said, pulling off one slipper, then the other, and letting them drop to the floor.
He came and joined her on the bed and started to unbutton the back of her gown. It was a navy silk, simple in its complexity, covered with French netting and elaborate beading at the neck and sleeves. He pushed it off her shoulders and down to her waist, revealing her petticoat. No man had ever done that to her before. An intoxicating mix of desire, nerves, and fear made her head spin.
“Why do women wear so many layers? I swear it’s to torture the male of the species.” He nuzzled her neck, and she sighed as shivers of pleasure spiraled out from his kisses.
When he rained smooches on her bare skin, her nerves settled, replaced with savoring the magic of his touch. “When you kiss me like that, I forget everything—every fear, every doubt.” She pulled her arms out of her sleeves and wiggled out of her gown.
He undid the tie at the back of her petticoat, pushed it over her shoulders, revealing her stays, and kissed along her shoulders. “Have no regrets. You are precious to me. I love your scent. You always smell wonderful, of lavender, sometimes of roses.”
She smiled, thinking of the rose bedroom at Lomond House and how she’d been so determined that he wouldn’t bed her.
The petticoat went the way of the dress onto the floor.
“I hope you’re good with lacing,” she said, turning to him and squirming in pleasure as he kissed every patch of bare skin he revealed until goose bumps arose.
“An expert.” He gave her a wicked smile that set her blood racing. She had no intention of asking how his expertise had been gained. She didn’t want to know the answer.
Stays unlaced, she handed him her glass of wine, stood, and slipped them off, followed by her shift, so she wore nothing but her silk stockings. The wickedness of it helped her lose the restraints her mind tried to impose, especially when she saw his hot desire. It was as if the whole world had shrunk to just her and him.
His eyes became hooded as he swept the bed covering aside and laid her back on the linen sheets. “You were made to be worshipped.”
He joined her, leaning over her, kissing her breasts, totally focused on laving one nipple and then the other, teasing them with his tongue as she arched her back and moaned.
This was better than she’d ever imagined. Every kiss and lick seemed to spiral through her until, unconsciously, she began stroking herself between her legs.
“This is too much. Too much,” she groaned.
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping the length of her before focusing on her hand and what she was doing. “Don’t come yet. I’ve only just started.”
“What do you mean, come?”
He smiled, his white teeth shining in the limited light. “I’m so glad you asked. It’s called the little death.”
“Death?” she echoed warily.
“Trust me, you’ll return to a place better than you left, and you’ll want so much more.” He left her breast and started kissing a path down her torso.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She felt awkward, caught with her hands between her legs, her fingers sticky with her own dew.
He moved down her body, his fingers replacing hers, and he continued to nip, kiss, and suck, all the while stroking between her legs.
She’d never felt anything like it. It was far more pleasurable when he did it, a sweet torment. Her mind stopped questioning, and her body took over.
She groaned out loud and rolled her hips in rhythm with his fingers.
“That’s my girl. I want you to enjoy everything I do to you.” And then he did something that sent pulses of pleasure—and angst—right through her.
He moved between her legs.
“What are you doing?” She tried to wriggle up the bed. Despite thinking she was ready, this was so intimate that she suddenly wasn’t sure.
He grabbed her around the thighs and pulled her back down. “Using the
next best thing, because my hand hurts. Lie back and enjoy it.”
His tongue snaked out, and he licked her down there, and she nearly ricocheted off the bed. She pulled a feather pillow under her head so she could watch what he was doing. He licked right up her seam, and it was as if heaven exploded in her mind.
The modest part of her was horrified, but when Aaron focused on a certain spot, sucking and swirling his tongue, the whole world turned on its axis and she ceased to think. Instead she became his creature, sighing and moaning in pleasure at the wonderful things he did to her.
Heat built inside her, and she writhed on the bed, rolling her hips, wanting more, ready to beg. He clamped her hips down and opened her with his thumbs, exposing her in the most indelicate way. She would have protested if she’d been able to formulate words. Instead, when he brought down his lips again, a rush of ecstasy made her whole body stiffen. She arched her back, completely powerless, and groaned deep, gasping and writhing until finally he pulled away and moved up the bed to hold her.
“That is what it is to come,” he said.
She rolled her head to the side, seeing his masculine air of satisfaction. “I feel as if all the bones in my body have dissolved. I had no idea consummation would be like that, though I’m a little confused.”
“That wasn’t consummation,” Aaron said. “Now I’m going to teach you how to pleasure me.” He took her hand and guided it down around his cock.
“It’s so hard. I thought it was meant to go between my legs. At least, that seems the way of it with animals.” She didn’t want to own up to her sexual spying. One day she’d tell him—just not yet.
He chuckled. “We’ll do lots of things that animals don’t do. I want you to lie on your side so I can lick your nipples. Your breasts entrance me. I will show you what to do with my cock by keeping my hand over yours.”
“Is this what you meant when you said we’d caress and touch?”
“Aye. I’ll not take your maidenhead until you’re sure. This way, we’ll learn about each other and feel comfortable in each other’s arms.” He started to move his hand up and down over hers, building the pace.
An Unsuitable Lady for a Lord (Scottish Lords and Ladies) Page 13