by Claudy Conn
~ Twenty-Five ~
KITTY REMOVED HER silk wrapper and stood looking at her nearly naked self in the long looking glass. Was she desirable? Would he succumb? Would it answer? What was she doing? Had she thought this out? This was no longer the whispering giggles that she and her friends engaged in about men and the art of love. This could be her undoing. Yes, but such an undoing. Well, she had always been unconventional …
Think, Kitty, is this what you want?
Her friends had whispered with her in private about such things … about making love with a man and what would be expected of them in a man’s bed. She and Ree had researched the subject of the forbidden pleasures to be had in a man’s arms. Once she had even broached the subject to Harry.
He had been shocked and nearly lost his voice as he screeched, “What?”
“You heard me, Harry … I need to know what happens when a woman goes to a man’s bed.”
He stuttered and spluttered. She had laughed at his reaction.
“Is it so bad, Harry? Is it so wrong for a woman to wonder about such things?”
“You can’t be asking me about this subject,” he said, his face the color of a red poppy.
“You are my friend, and Henrietta doesn’t have the answer, and as we both want to know—”
He spun around. “Henrietta? She wants to know? Why? And is she here?”
“No, she is in the kitchen with Cook. Now tell me.”
“With Cook? Asking Cook about this awkward business?”
“Oh, that is a good idea. Cook would know—she is married.”
“No, no … don’t ask Cook.”
“Then you tell me,” she had insisted. But in the end, Harry threatened to leave if she wouldn’t give over and drop the subject.
Now, here she was, hopefully about to find out. She had quite made up her mind. She was going to tiptoe to the earl’s room, go inside and kiss him, and see where that would lead her. She simply had to make him see that he loved her. He had to see that, because she couldn’t be wrong; he must love her. She was sure she saw it in his eyes and now hoped it wasn’t just lust.
She made it all the way to his door but stood there and found herself descending into a cavern of jitters. Butterflies swarmed in her tummy. Bees buzzed in her head.
She swooshed it all away and opened the door, went inside, closed the door, turned, and saw the earl standing by the window. The glow of candlelight illuminated his handsome, beloved face, and she saw his mouth slacken and his eyes blaze with heat.
His voice cracked on a groan as he said, “What in blazes are you doing here? You can’t come into a man’s room like that!”
She didn’t answer as she rushed to him and stood hoping he would take her into his arms. Instead, he took her shoulders and said, “Kitty … go back to your room.”
“No, I want to be with you.”
“Kitty …” It was a strangled sound.
She put her hands on his bare chest and leaned into him. His shaft, hard and large through his brocade dressing gown, pressed into her belly. His hands went into her hair. “Damn but your hair is gold … your body … Kitty … go back to your room. I don’t want to do this to you. I won’t do this to you. I know you think right now … this is what you want, but you are just a green girl, and I could ruin you.”
“No, you can free me. I am a woman, and I have made my choice. Tonight, that choice is you,” she said, hoping to sound sophisticated, but instead she saw anger light in his eyes.
He gently shook her shoulders as though to shake sense into her. “Kitty, when you make a choice like that, it should be a lasting one. I have come to know you … and if I took you now, it will forever haunt you. I can’t promise you more than now, and I won’t do that to you.”
“Then kiss me,” she whispered. She thought he was going to turn her about and push her away, but instead, he gathered her into his arms.
His kiss was delicious, if somewhat rough. His tongue probed and took hers into a never-ending waltz, and she swore she heard the music play.
His hands pulled away her nightdress and fondled her breast, and then he did push her away forcefully. His voice hoarse, he said, “There, you have had your kiss … now go to bed, and, Kitty, don’t let anyone else kiss you until you know for sure he is the one to give you forever.”
She went instead into his arms. “I want more.”
“Kitty … I won’t offer you marriage … and—”
“Shh, you don’t have to offer me a thing. I want you, you want me, and, my lord, we both like to get what we want. After tonight, after you, I will be equipped and will be better able to make a decision about my future.”
He kissed her hard, picked her up in his arms, strode towards his door, set her down on the other side, and closed the door between them.
She heard the key turn in the latch and caught the sob in her throat.
He didn’t want her. He would never be hers. She thought if she could make love with him, whatever that entailed, he would realize that he loved her.
She ran to her room, dove onto her bed, and cried her heart out before, exhausted, she fell asleep.
* * *
Two weeks had gone by since that night, and she had scarcely seen the earl. Kitty was hurting in ways she couldn’t describe, and it made her force herself to laugh and act nonchalant about nearly everything. She was heartily and completely miserable.
She was thoroughly, irrevocably in love with the Earl of Halloway, and he was not in love with her. She was destined to live a loveless life, she told herself.
It didn’t matter that she was a success with the beau monde. It didn’t matter that the Prince Regent himself had sought her out at Lady Esterhazy’s ball and conversed with her for longer than he was wont to do with anyone, let alone a debutante. It didn’t matter that London was fascinating and that she was being hailed as the beauty of the Season. All that mattered was the earl who was no longer giving her any time whatsoever over and above what was necessary.
She had many morning visitors and quite a number of suitors and had even managed to gather any number of female friends all eager to be in her elite corner.
Kitty rode in Hyde Park with this new group of young people and more often than not missed Harry and Henrietta, who were real and cared about her whether or not the Beau and Petersham did or not. Yes, this group was witty and fun, but this was not what she wanted.
She was flattered by the ever-constant barrage of posies, pretty fans, and books of poems her suitors sent to her, but she was not fooled. She had looked into the souls of her newfound friends and admirers and discovered them rather shallow. She felt that the fellows courting her were doing so because she had become all the rage, not because their hearts moved them to do so—not that such a fact would have made a difference. She didn’t want any of them.
She wanted only one. Her heart beat for only one, and that one had set her apart and in a world of aching.
A depression hung over her as they sat in their box at Drury Theatre and she gazed out at the fashionable crowd and missed her Henrietta and Harry’s company. London, she thought, wasn’t real. It was a fairytale of lights and music, but what she needed was to stand on solid ground. She needed solid friends like Ree and Harry, but here she was, already heartily sick of London. They had postponed their earlier planned trip to the theatre when the earl had announced that he would not be able to escort them. He had done so this night only after his grandmother had badgered him into it. He didn’t want to be in close company with her; she was sure of it.
The dowager seemed to be enjoying Kean’s performance of Shylock as he rolled off his lines, but Kitty could scarcely concentrate. Odd that, as everyone seemed to think Kean’s acting was superb. Lord Byron, whom she had met only a few nights ago, had told her that Kean’s acting had captivated, thrilled, and terrified him. Well, she found the fellow quite an ordinary little man who missed a word now and then. She could not see what all the fuss was about. In fact, t
hey had little acting troupes that came through the New Forest each year that were so much better than he.
Sighing with boredom, Kitty glanced around the galley and the other boxes, all full to capacity. Indeed, everyone seemed absorbed in the play. She made a face and wondered at it all, before taking a look in the earl’s direction.
This night, although he had escorted them to the theatre, he had basically ignored her most of the evening. He sat near her though, making her all too conscious of him. She took a moment to glance at his profile. Faith, he was so magnetic. She knew he was considered a marriage prize, but she also knew that people said he was a confirmed bachelor who would never wed.
And still, she adored him.
In the last two weeks, even though it seemed as though he was avoiding her, when they were at a rout or a soiree and something she found amusing made her twinkle, she would look up and find him staring at her. Their eyes would lock in mutual amusement as they enjoyed a private laugh. Now, looking up and meeting his eyes, she realized he was no more enjoying Kean than she was.
He grinned. “Aye … missed a word or two in that line, didn’t he, Kitty?”
“Indeed, he did, as he has all evening,” she said and giggled.
He frowned. “What is it, little one?”
She eyed him. Did he not know? Did he not realize he had broken her, that though he thought to spare her heart, it was breaking all the same? “Nothing.”
“Is it Kean then?” He laughed.
“Well, as to that, I don’t care for his interpretations of the part. Do you?”
“Well, he has a certain force, but, no, Kitty. I don’t care for Kean, though all the world does.”
“That is something I greatly admire in you,” she said thoughtfully.
He chuckled quietly. “That I don’t like Kean?”
She slapped his arm playfully, which caused the dowager to admonish her to be quiet, so she lowered her voice. “I like that you don’t give a fig for the opinions of the world. I don’t, either.”
Their eyes met, and her heartbeat quickened.
“Indeed, we seem to have a great deal in common,” he said on a low note.
“Shhh.” The dowager actually put a finger to her lips and glared at them.
He stood and bent towards Kitty, offering his arm. She gave him her gloved hand and allowed him to lead her out of the box. This was the closest they had been in two weeks.
He led her to the refreshment box and said, “Would you like some Negus?”
“Not really,” she said, and it came out as a whisper.
He took her hand and rushed with her to the stairwell, and there, without a word and as though he hadn’t a moment to lose, he pinned her to the wall and brought his mouth to hers. His kiss consumed her; his tongue sang a sweet ballad against her tongue. His arms enfolded her as though he had been starving for ages. She felt his manhood pressed against her, and when the kiss ended, he whispered, “Kitty, what am I to do?”
“I will show you … later … this green girl will show you,” she answered hotly as her lips pressed against his. “Now, however, you will spare my reputation.”
He laughed, and the sound was full of joy.
Kitty watched his face as he led her out of the stairwell and back onto the main hallways. There he spotted one of her suitors and growled, “I see that dratted fellow nearly every day at Halloway House.”
“Do you?” Kitty laughed. “I don’t know how as you haven’t been around Halloway House very much in the last two weeks.”
“I keep a watch on what interests me,” he said meaningfully.
“Well, that sounds ominous,” Kitty said and laughed again.
“Has he come up to scratch yet?” the earl inquired with an accompanying frown.
“Four times. He has asked me to marry him four times.”
“What? He never applied to me.” The earl appeared outraged.
“He wanted first to know if I was so inclined before he applied to you.”
“And are you?” The earl stared at her.
“If I were, I wouldn’t have kissed you,” Kitty said softly.
Intermission was announced in that moment, and a throng of people flowed into the main hall where they were standing.
A few of Kitty’s friends, male and female, arrived and surrounded her, but she was aware when the earl slipped away. Deflated, she looked around and saw him in close conversation with the notorious Felicia Saltash, and her heart sank further.
Was that who he had been with while he had kept his distance?
The redhead was looking exquisite in her pale gold gown. It hugged her voluptuous figure and invited a man to stare. The earl seemed in earnest as he spoke with her, and Kitty, unable to see him thusly, turned away and began flirting outrageously with the young men in her group.
“Kitty!” a familiar and dear male voice filled her ears. Her lips stretched into a welcome smile as she looked up and around.
She turned and found Harry coming towards her, arms outstretched, and dived into them as though she were lost in a turbulent sea and here—here was a lifeline.
“Harry,” Kitty cried, setting the gentlemen around her to frown. “You are here. You have come.”
He gave her a hearty shake in greeting. “Yes, yes, but egad, Kit, you are prime!”
“To the nines, Harry, to the nines!” She laughed at this. “But tell me, when did you arrive in London? How did you find me? And, oh, why didn’t you come sooner?”
“Ho there, zany. One at a time.” He chuckled.
The earl had arrived on this scene, quietly touched Harry’s shoulder, and said, “A delightful surprise. Hallo, Harry.”
Harry took the earl’s extended hand and gave it a firm grip. “How do you do, my lord?”
Kitty’s face was now drawn in worry. “Harry, is everything all right at home?”
“Everything is fine, fine,” he answered.
“Oh, good,” she said with relief. “Are you here just to see me, then? That seems very odd. You said you might only come for the last week in the Season. Said you couldn’t abide the bustle of the city.” Kitty arched a look at him.
He blushed, which made both Kitty’s eyes widen, and then he stuttered, “Well … as to that … well, the thing is … suffice it to say, I had to come.”
The dowager had arrived at that moment and said, “Kitty, my dear, do release this poor young man’s lapel. You are making a mess of it.”
Kitty realized she was clinging to Harry’s lapel with a death grip. She laughed and said, “Oh, Minnie, this is Harry, my dear friend come from the New Forest. He is here.”
“I can see that he is,” the dowager said, smiling. She turned to the other gentlemen and told them, “You boys must leave now. Go on.” Watching them make a hasty retreat, she turned back to Harry, who was bowing to her and explaining that he was a Brentley.
“Do you know, I fancy I knew your mother … when she was first brought out and met your father,” the dowager mused. “Kitty, you know, speaks of you often.”
All at once, the lights dimmed and the curtain rose. There was no time for further conversation, though Kitty announced without hesitation, “Now, my poor Harry, you shall be subjected to Kean!”
The earl laughed out loud and then again at Harry’s doubtful expression. “Come along, let’s all be seated and try and enjoy the play.”
Kitty bubbled with Harry beside her, and once when she turned to meet the earl’s gaze, she was certain his eyes softened as they locked with hers.
~ Twenty-Six ~
A KNOCK SOUNDED at Kitty’s door. She knew, without a doubt, that it was the earl, and she opened the door wide. She allowed her silk wrapper to slip open. Could she tempt him? Would he be tempted? How could he be when he had the beautiful Felicia Saltash offering herself to him?
The look in his blue eyes was all about hunger. Even if she had no experience, she had learned that much about men. His hands were fisted at his sides. He stood rigid.
She said, “Yes, my lord?”
“Kitty …” he started and stopped.
“Yes, my lord?” she repeated. What did she know about the art of dalliance? Felicia had experience on her side. She had none.
“I’m fighting a losing battle …” he said and swept her into his arms, closing the door at his back with his foot.
His kisses took her into a dark sky where the stars exploded like fireworks. Her heart beat so fast she thought that it would burst. A yearning formed between her thighs, and she knew, absolutely knew, what that meant. She wanted him. A maid was supposed to wait till marriage, but at that moment she didn’t care what society said she was supposed to do. Their rules were for their convenience, not hers, and those rules didn’t make sense.
He shrugged out of his coat, and she helped him with his waistcoat and shirt. He unbuttoned his pantaloons and slipped out of his shoes and socks, all the while kissing her neck, her shoulder, lower to her breast, where he kissed, licked, suckled until she wanted him so badly she felt herself get wet with need. She looked at him as she made him stand there and looked at him from the top of his head, down, down to his manhood erect and dripping with his desire.
He made a primal sound and backed her up to the bed. She dropped off her nightdress completely, but just as she was about to clamber up onto the bed, he picked her up cradle-like, placed her there gently, and climbed up with her, whispering, “Kitty … I want you so.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. “Show me, for although I said I would show you, the truth is I don’t know what I am about.”
He kissed her long, so long, and the words sounded as though they were wrenched from him. “This … it means this … but hell … bloody hell, you are an innocent, and I am a scoundrel. You don’t know …” And then, as though he had been poked with a hot iron, he was up and off her bed, gathering his clothes and rushing out of her room and uttering as though in agonizing pain, “Forgive me.”
Kitty watched his naked butt as he ran out of her room, and although she felt bloody frustrated, she smiled. Not only did he want her, he cared for her. She had seen more than lust in his eyes. She had seen love. She had felt more than hunger in his touch; she had felt genuine adoration. Now, all she had to do was make him realize that the next step would not be so awful. Right, but how to get him to the next step and make him declare what he felt? That would take some thinking, for the man had a will power she had not anticipated.