Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Violet Hamers

  At the reminder that this was no longer his home, and that a quiet, lonely house awaited his eventual arrival, a familiar weight pressed into Harry’s chest. He was careful not to let his sister see his unhappiness, however. It was not her burden to bear in any way.

  “Yes, well, what purpose would you have to come in here in my absence? I do not think Mama has allowed it to be used in any other way.”

  Penelope chuckled. “She is overly sentimental when it comes to her children, I think. I swear, there is a part of her that still believes Papa will relent and allow you to move back home.”

  If only that could be true…then I might not dread the evenings as I do.

  Wandering toward one of the large windows, Penelope gazed out onto the gardens below.

  “Do you plan to attend the Bagleys’ ball next week?” she asked, not looking at him.

  He frowned at the unusual question. “I had not decided. How did you know I received an invitation?”

  She glanced toward him with her brow arched. “Common sense. It would be terribly awkward if Mama, Papa, and myself were extended invitations and you were not.”

  I suppose that is true.

  “Why are you interested in whether I plan to attend or not? You have never bothered to ask in regards to any social event before now.”

  Turning so she faced him fully, she offered him a dainty shrug.

  “I simply recalled that a friend of mine will be in attendance, and thought you two might get on.”

  A friend? What kind of friend?

  A gentleman, perhaps? Someone wanting to earn my favor before approaching our father about her?

  The thought made him wary. He did not like the idea of any gentleman pursuing his sister, even as he recognized she was well into marriageable age and it would be best for her to be settled. Still, he could not rid himself of the image of her as a small child with ribbons in her hair, padding through the garden with her feet bare…

  “Just who is this friend of yours?” he snapped, a surge of protectiveness rising up within him. “And just where did you meet him?”

  Penelope appeared startled. “Whatever are you talking about? I was not referring to a gentleman, Harry.”

  He blinked, his masculine emotions fading rapidly. “Oh, indeed? Then, who…?”

  “Lady Dorothy Wilson, of course,” she said with a baffled expression. “Do you not recall that I told you she was a fan of the novels?”

  His jaw dropped in surprise. “Lady Dorothy? She will be in attendance?”

  Penelope nodded. “Yes, and I know she would be delighted to make your acquaintance. I had hoped to introduce you, if you planned to be there.”

  The Bagley’s ball had held little interest for him, if he were honest. When the invitation had arrived, he had almost chucked the thing right then and there. Now, though, he felt a stirring of intrigue at the idea of meeting the illustrious Lady Dorothy Wilson. Penelope had told him of the lady’s great love of his novels, and had also let it be known she was quite lovely.

  His curiosity had piqued then, and it burned now.

  “Well, I suppose if it means so much to you, I will have to find the time to make an appearance.”

  He caught his sister’s knowing smile. “How very generous of you, Harry.”

  A buzz of anticipation made his spine tingle. He was suddenly eager for the Bagleys’ ball, and to make the acquaintance of Lady Dorothy Wilson.

  Yes, very eager indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Penelope paced the length of her bedroom and chewed at her thumb nail as her nerves got the better of her. It was a horrid habit, she knew, and one her mother had tried to discipline her from as a child. Yet, when she was riddled with anxiety as she was in that moment, the old habit reappeared as if to taunt her with the fact that she had no control over herself or her situation.

  She was too distracted to care, however, and worked her nail as her heart raced and her mind scrambled for rational thought. Yesterday’s conversation with Lord Romwich was all she could think of. His promise to present himself to her father was the highlight she kept repeating over and over again.

  He had said he would come today, if he was able. She knew her father was home, cooped up in his study. If Lord Romwich arrived, he would be able to see the Baron. When would he arrive? Would he arrive? It was already midday, and there was no sign of him. They were still well within the appropriate hours for social calls, but she thought he might come first thing. Why had he not?

  Where is he? Has he changed his mind? Decided I am too common for him after all?

  Penelope scolded herself for her thoughts. She needed to trust him. That was all there was to it. Lord Romwich had promised her his intentions for her were noble. She needed to believe his word.

  A sudden knock on the door startled her from her pacing.

  “Penelope dear? Are you in there?” Her mother’s voice penetrated the thick wood door.

  Penelope dropped her thumb from her mouth as if her mother could even now see her and would scold her for her behavior.

  “Yes, Mama,” she called.

  The next moment, the door opened and Lady Bienholm glided into the room. Her expression was one of concern as she looked her daughter up and down.

  “My goodness, sweetheart. What are you doing hiding away up here all by yourself? I had expected to find you in the library, or perhaps the garden.”

  “It’s too cold to walk in the garden, Mama.” The winter chill had won out, and autumn appeared officially over. “I was just reading. No need to worry.”

  Her mother’s eyes immediately swept the room, and Penelope knew she would see that there was no open book to be found. When her gaze settled back on her daughter, they glowed with suspicion.

  “My dear, are you feeling all right? You are not coming down with a fever, or…”

  A sudden commotion stole Penelope’s attention from her mother. Without thinking, she rushed to the window in her room that overlooked the front entrance of the house. A carriage had pulled up in the drive.

  The Lockeder family crest was emblazoned on its side.

  “He’s here,” she breathed, her heart skipping as her belly clenched.

  “What is going on, Penelope?” Lady Bienholm asked, surprise in her tone.

  Penelope licked at her lips as she determined whether to tell her mother the truth or not.

  “It appears Lord Romwich has come to pay us a visit,” she answered at length, settling on a half-truth.

  She glanced over her shoulder in time to see her mother’s expression brighten.

  “Oh! Indeed? What a welcome surprise! Come, my dear. We should go down and greet him.”

  Penelope hesitated. “Perhaps we should allow Papa to meet with him first?”

  Her mother stared at her with a quizzical frown. “Why ever would we do that, my dear? He is our acquaintance, not the Baron’s.”

  “I know, Mama, but do you not think it only proper?” Penelope scrambled to come up for a reason to keep her mother away from Lord Romwich until he could speak with her father. She did not want anything to distract from their conversation. “You must admit, it is not so usual for both of us to have been introduced to a gentleman without Papa first meeting him. Especially a fellow peer.”

  Lady Bienholm seemed to consider that logic for several moments. “I suppose, it would make things continue on a much smoother path if Lord Bienholm approved of him from the start,” she murmured to herself.

  “What was that, Mama?” Penelope asked, not quite catching every word Lady Bienholm said.

  Her mother shook her head. “Oh, never mind dear. I believe you are correct. We will wait to be summoned to meet with Lord Romwich and give the Baron a chance to speak with him first, if that is his wish.”

  Penelope wanted to sigh with relief, but she dared not give anything away of her desires with Lord Romwich. At least, not yet. She would wait and pray the Baron received him, and that once his intentions were made known, tha
t he would not toss Lord Romwich back out into the street.

  * * *

  Andrew had never been so nervous to meet with another person in his whole life. As he waited for the Snowley family’s butler to alert the Baron of his presence, he drummed his fingers against his thighs. He could not keep still. His anticipation was too great. Gazing around the foyer of the manor, he hoped he might catch a glimpse of Miss Snowley before going in to see her father. He thought her presence might fortify his courage.

  Alas, the lady never appeared, which was probably just as well. Andrew knew he needed his wits about him during his meeting, and when she was nearby, he was likely to lose all sense of himself. Still, he could not help wondering if she knew he was here? Was she waiting in the wings, praying his conversation with her father went well? Was she completely oblivious to it all?

  The butler returned that moment, capturing Andrew’s attention.

  “Lord Bienholm will receive you in his study, My Lord,” the stern-faced older man said with a nod of his head. “If you will please follow me?”

  Andrew took a deep breath before falling into step behind the butler. They made their way deeper into the house, down a smartly decorated hallway and stopped in front of two imposing wooden doors. The butler opened them and stepped inside.

  “My Lord, Lord Romwich is here to see you,” the butler announced before making room for Andrew to step over the threshold.

  “Thank you, Carlton, that will be all.” The Baron spoke from where he sat behind his large desk.

  With a deep bow to both gentlemen, the butler left the room, pulling the doors closed behind him.

  Once they were alone, the Baron stood from his chair and came around toward Andrew.

  “Lord Romwich, this is such a surprise, though a pleasant one, I dare say. What is it that I can do for you?”

  Andrew turned to his host and replied, “I apologize, Lord Bienholm, for my sudden visit, but I thought it imperative that I make myself known to you.”

  The Baron frowned. “Oh? Whatever for?”

  This was the moment Andrew had been dreading since he first promised Miss Snowley he would come here.

  “My Lord, I had the great pleasure of being introduced to your daughter when she called on my sister, Lady Dorothy. I must admit, I found myself quite taken with her, and wanted to come here today to make it known to you my intention to court her.”

  It appeared to take a moment for his words to sink in, as the Baron simply gawked at him for several moments. Then, his brows shot up toward his hairline.

  “Truly, My Lord? You wish to court my daughter?”

  “I wish to court her openly, and for you to know my intentions are pure.”

  The Baron continued to stare at him as though he did not quite believe Andrew’s words.

  “Forgive me, My Lord. I am most pleased that you consider my daughter a suitable companion, but I must admit to some shock. A gentleman of such esteemed position as yourself could choose any lady to stand at his side. What is it about my daughter that has snared your attentions?”

  Andrew’s first instinct was to feel offense on Miss Snowley’s behalf, but he quickly realized the Baron’s words were not spoken cruelly, as though he considered his daughter unworthy of a Marquess. They were simply spoke with surprise, and Andrew supposed he could understand the Baron’s confusion. In the ranks of peerage, he and Miss Snowley were quite separated.

  That did not matter to him, however. He considered her more that suitable to appear at his side in front the entirety of London society.

  “My Lord, your daughter is unique among the ladies I have so far encountered,” he admitted. “She is polite and well-bred, as any young lady should boast, but she is also intuitive, witty, sweet, and caring. I can also admit that I find her very lovely to look upon and appreciate her modesty.”

  He threw in the last bit so that the Baron did not consider Andrew’s carnal desire for his daughter when thinking of their courtship. Though, Andrew could admit, those feelings grew stronger with each encounter he had with her.

  It was a relief when the Baron appeared impressed with Andrew’s praise of Miss Snowley.

  “It does seem as though you genuinely care for my daughter,” the gentlemen said with a smile. “I should be happy for you to court her, if that is her wish as well, of course.”

  “I believe it is, yes.” Andrew felt as though a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. He could see and speak with Miss Snowley without having to hide. He could interact with her in public without fear of scandal.

  The Baron nodded his head. “Very well, that is settled then. Should all go well, I look forward to you visiting me once more to ask for her hand.”

  Though he spoke with a lightness that suggested his words were in jest, Andrew knew Lord Bienholm was completely serious. For once, however, the prospect of marriage did not seem so stifling to him.

  “I pray that day comes in haste, My Lord,” Andrew said with a smile, and was pleased to realize the words were true.

  Chapter Fifteen

  During the week leading up to the Bagleys’ ball, Andrew visited the Snowley house nearly every day. He and Miss Snowley would sit together in her family’s parlor under the watchful eye of her mother or Mrs. Stewart, or go for walks in the nearby park, uncaring of the snow that had begun to fall, and would take the time to get to know each other.

  He found himself falling more and more under her spell as she revealed more of her interests and personality.

  Though he thought he had fallen in love with her the first moment he laid eyes on her, as he came to know her, he was sure of it. What he was not so sure of was her love for him. He suspected she cared for him deeply, but he did not know definitively that she felt for him what he felt for her. To try and assist her feelings for him, he did not hesitate to answer whatever questions she had for him.

  One day, as they sat sipping tea, Miss Snowley looked at him with a soft smile.

  “My Lord, how is it possible that we have never met before? I know that we do not typically run in the same circles, but surely we would have encountered each other before…” she trailed off, glancing toward Lady Bienholm, who sat on the far side of the room with her needlework. Dropping her voice to a whisper, Miss Snowley finished, “the bookstore.”

  Andrew grinned. “I was at university studying business for several years, and so rarely appeared at social gatherings about town. Once I finished my education, the Duke sent me to America to visit our enterprises there. He had my sister accompany me, as he believed it a good idea for Lady Dorothy to travel and gain some worldliness before she married.”

  The lady’s eyes went wide and sparkled with amazement. “How thrilling. I have always dreamed of seeing America, and of travel in general. Are you well-traveled, My Lord?”

  He considered his answer a moment. “I suppose you can say I am sufficiently traveled, Madam. Apart from America, I have visited France and Spain, though the latter was as a child with the Duke and Duchess. I visited India once on business in the Duke’s name, but I must confess that is the extent of my worldly explorations at present.”

  “Oh! I would love to see India! The Baron and my brother have been, as my Papa’s textile company has much business there. When they returned, my brother raved of the marvels of the country.”

  Andrew smiled at the wonder in her voice. “Perhaps you will go one day, Madam. I am sure your husband may wish to take you, if only to please you.”

  Her eyes met his as a little gasp flew from her lips. God, how beautiful she was when she stared up at him with such hope and longing in her dazzling blue gaze. He imagined that look in her eyes as he caressed her body, that little gasp breaking through when he touched her most intimate places.

  Andrew shifted in his seat, breaking eye contact with her for a moment to gain control back over himself. The last few days with her had been a dream, but they had also been a test of his endurance. Being so close to her, hearing her voice, and catching wh
iffs of her scent when she moved was making him crazed.

  More and more often, he could not stop his thoughts from straying to imaginings of her in his arms or spread out beneath him in his bed. He longed to run his hands through her dark hair. To see it loose and flowing down her back. To press his lips to the point where her shoulder and neck met and know once and for all how smooth and soft her skin was there.

  “My Lord? Are you feeling all right?” her voice broke through his lustful thoughts. It was just above a whisper and breathless. His eyes focused on her, and he saw her cheeks were flushed and her bosom rising and falling with her shallow breaths.