“Are you happy?”
“Of course.” I’m here with you, she almost added, but a time would come very soon when she might never see him again.
“I should like to have a miniature of you.”
She peered up at him. “That wouldn’t be wise, George. It might make your wife jealous.”
He nodded. “Yes, you’re right, of course. Ghastly idea.”
They’d reached the end of the room. He glanced around somewhat surreptitiously. “Step into the stairwell there and head down. I’ll catch up.”
“Are we about to do something wicked?”
He winked at her. “Very wicked indeed.”
Chapter 5
He caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs, grabbed her hand, and began jaunting through a warren of hallways. Her laughter followed in their wake, and he knew he would forever hear it whenever he walked the corridors.
“How in the world do people not get lost in here?” she asked.
“You learn your way around, but the possibility of getting turned about does keep most guests from exploring on their own.”
“So you think we won’t get caught?”
He grinned at her. “Rather sure of it.”
Finally, they reached the library. Normally a footman would be standing guard, ready to open the door for him but tonight they were all needed to assist with the guests in one manner or another. Closing the door behind them, he locked it.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“Because if someone is wandering around, I don’t want you to be caught alone in here with me. It would send your reputation to the devil.”
“As though I care about my reputation.” She glided over to the windows. “I don’t know if I’d get any work done in here. I’d forever be looking out.” She spun around. “Or reading. My God, where did you get all the books?”
They filled an abundance of shelves. “Bookshops. At least the ones I’ve added to the collection. Most were acquired by my ancestors. Some of the volumes are extremely rare.”
“All books are rare.” She approached a shelf. “We have the Bible and that’s about it. Do you have any notion as to how fortunate you are? All these treasures. The books, the paintings, the statues, the artwork.”
“They’re not really mine, Linnie. I’m more temporary custodian than owner. That’s the way it is in my world. You focus on the next generation and leaving them something of worth. Brandy?”
She smiled. “Yes, please.”
He wanted that smile captured on canvas. But she was correct. It wouldn’t do to be carrying around a miniature of her in his pocket. He would be as true a husband as possible to the woman he married. Unlike his father.
He walked over and poured the amber liquid into two snifters. When he turned around, it was to find her sitting on the floor before the hearth. “You can sit in a chair, Linnie.”
“I wanted to be near the fire and nearer to you. The chairs put too much distance between us.”
“I could move a sofa over.”
She patted the floor beside her. “Here is fine.”
He knelt. “You’ll get your pretty gown dirty.”
She laughed. “George, I suspect I could eat off your floor. Now sit, with your back against the chair so you’re comfy.”
She took a snifter from him and he settled in, not surprised when she patted his leg, nudging it as though she were hinting he should spread them. “I want to sit with my back to your chest like I did when we were children.”
Except then his back was against a tree, they were sitting in grass, and his cock didn’t get hard with the mere thought of her nearness. “Probably not a good idea.”
“It’s a lovely idea.” Before he could object again, she’d worked her way between his legs and snuggled in against his chest. “Cheers, George.”
She sipped, while he gulped a good portion and tried to focus on the flames dancing on the hearth rather than the feel of her rounded bottom pressed so intimately against him. Even with all the petticoats and material of her gown, he was acutely aware of her shape. Near his mouth the long nape of her neck tempted him. Her bared shoulders were a distraction.
“Do you know Lady Evangeline?” she asked quietly.
He’d greeted all the ladies as each had arrived during the past two days. Most he’d been introduced to before but a few were new to him. “Blonde, blue eyes, ruddy cheeks.”
“That’s the one. Greyling introduced me to her after our dance, before Robbie made his appearance. You should marry her.”
He needed to marry someone and quickly so he had a woman to bed before he exploded just thinking about bedding her. He couldn’t seem to tame the wild thoughts rioting through him that with a bit of vigilance and caution he could actually secrete her into his bedchamber. And that would be so wrong. She was in his care tonight; he was responsible for her. He couldn’t ruin her when he knew he couldn’t offer her a lifetime with him. “Why?”
“She has wide hips. She shouldn’t have any trouble at all giving you four strapping sons.”
“Four?”
Nodding, she wiggled against him until she was nearer when he’d thought it impossible for them to be any closer. “I see you with four boys. Two dark-haired and two blond. Rapscallions all.”
“No daughters?”
“Perhaps. I just don’t see them.”
“You can gaze into the future, can you?”
“Just a premonition. I get them now and again. Do you remember when those gypsies passed through one summer?”
“Of course. They put on a show with their jugglers and knife throwers. My uncle forbade me to go because he believed they only wanted to pick our pockets.”
“But when I came for you, you went with me.”
He couldn’t help himself. He trailed his gloved finger from the area above her elbow along her bare skin to the short sleeve of her gown. “You’d have thought me a coward, otherwise.”
“I went back the next day. An old woman read my palm.”
“Did she promise you a lifetime of happiness?”
“An eternity of it, actually, but even so, she said I wasn’t long for this world.”
He stilled, his finger ceased its stroking. He couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. Yet she’d be leaving his world when she moved to London. Once he married, he’d have to avoid her. No more laughing with her, no more conversations. No secrets shared. No more confessions. No more doubts and fears given over into her keeping, knowing that with her all would be safe. “Why would she tell a little girl something stupid like that?”
“Because she had the sight; she wanted me to make the most of what time I had remaining to me.”
“That’s ridiculous, Linnie. She was a stupid old hag who knew nothing.” He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and turned her slightly so he could look into her blue eyes. “You can’t have believed her.”
“I don’t know that it matters. I don’t fear dying, George. I fear not living life to its fullest. I have strived to make the best of every day. So perhaps it’s not such a bad thing to acknowledge that tomorrow is not a guarantee. It makes us appreciate what we have right now and to make the most of it.”
At that moment, he had her. “If I’d known we were going to escape to this room, I’d have had a basket with your bread and some cheese waiting for us so we could have had a picnic in here.”
“Ah, so that’s how you do it in winter. Inside.”
“Exactly, although I’ve never done it before.”
“That’s how you can court Lady Evangeline.”
He pressed his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “I don’t see myself courting her.”
“You promised your mother you’d court someone.”
“I promised I’d choose.”
“If you don’t court her, she’s not likely to say yes.”
Grinning, he shrugged. “But my promise is kept even if she says no.”
“Your poor mother. You must be a trial as a son.”
“I try.”
Laughing, she settled back against him. “I like your house.”
“You haven’t even seen all of it.”
“I don’t suppose we can stay in here very long. They’ll start missing you.”
After removing his gloves, he trailed his finger along her spine, from her neck to where the material gathered partway down her back. “We can stay as long as you like.”
It was peaceful here, with the fire crackling, sending off its warmth. He finished off his brandy in one long swallow, watched as she occasionally sipped on hers. One of the things he liked about her was that they didn’t have to always converse. He could enjoy her company in the silence and not feel odd about it.
She set her empty glass aside.
“Would you care for some more?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so.” She shifted her position slightly, her backside rubbing against him provocatively, and he bit back a groan as his cock immediately jumped to attention. He’d been having such great success keeping it reined in, and all it had taken was one little movement from her for him to lose complete control. She turned, presenting him with her profile as she raised her arm. Between her fingers, over her head, dangled a sprig of green. “Your cousin said if I don’t kiss a fellow when I’m beneath the mistletoe, I’ll end up an old maid.”
He never thought he’d be grateful to his cousin for anything. “The day we met you announced that you’d never marry.”
“I was a child then. Now I suppose if the right gent asked, I might change my mind.”
“Well then, we can’t risk turning the fates against you, can we?” Taking her hand, he began peeling off her glove.
“What are you doing?”
“You might decide, during the kiss, that you want to touch my cheek or run your fingers through my hair. It’ll be more pleasant for us both if you’re not wearing gloves.” The pleasantness had already begun with the revealing of her skin, flawless except for a small scar near her littlest finger where she’d once burned it on the oven. Now, he pressed a kiss to it before taking her other hand and patiently removing the kidskin.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her a little bit more before taking her face between his palms and claiming her mouth as his.
It was just as wonderful as she remembered, if not more so. His velvety tongue swirling over hers, his arm coming around to support her shoulders as he eased her down to the floor, one of his legs coming to rest between hers. The gown was lovely but the material too thick and it had far too many petticoats. At that moment she was wishing that she was wearing her tavern frock. It was much less cumbersome. Not that George seemed to mind.
He was slowly, provocatively lapping at her mouth as though she were a tasty treat and he could never have enough of her. His feral growl reverberated through his chest and into hers, inciting her desires. Not that much inciting was needed. She’d wanted him for far too long. She felt like a tinderbox that needed little more than a stray ember to send the entire thing into a conflagration.
He dragged his mouth along her throat and across her chin until he reached the soft skin below her ear. “We should return to the ballroom.”
“Not yet,” she whispered. “Please, not yet.”
Lifting his head, he held her gaze. She loved how tormented, how conflicted, he appeared. He was a man of honor but also one who desired her.
“You tempt me, Linnie, you tempt me to do things I shouldn’t.”
“What do you want to do, George?”
“Devour you. From head to toe.”
“Then devour. I shan’t object.”
“You should.”
“But I shan’t.” She required neither reputation nor purity. She craved only memories of him that she could lock away in her heart to be viewed when they were no longer together.
“Merely a taste then.” He lowered his head to the valley between her breasts, dipped his tongue between the aching orbs. Then he trailed his lips over one swell, before journeying back to take the same path over the other. So gentle, so sweet, so forbidden.
Her nipples, more sensitive than usual, straining against the cloth, hardened and pearled, longed for what they were being denied. He closed his mouth around one turgid peak, the velvet no barrier to his heat. She cried out, arching her hips, shifting, pressing the core of her womanhood to his firm thigh, made strong by all the riding he did.
It wasn’t enough. Although she’d never been with a man before, she knew there was more, that she should feel more. Tugging on his hair, she pulled his head back, rose up and took his mouth. Pushing herself up, keeping her mouth latched to his, she rolled him over until he was on his back and she could straddle him, her skirts and petticoats gathered around them, but no longer forming a barricade to what she wanted. Through his trousers she could feel the hard length of him straining against her thin undergarments, seeking the dampest part of her.
“Christ, Linnie,” he groaned. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I want you, George. I want to feel you inside me.”
“Jesus.”
He slammed his eyes closed, but she wasn’t having it. She tore at his cravat, untying the intricate knot, casting it aside until she could reach his neck and suckle on the soft skin, nipping at it with her teeth. “Unfasten me.”
“This is madness.”
“I’ll go mad if you don’t.”
He released a short burst of laughter before threading his fingers through her hair and bringing her mouth back to his. So greedy, so determined, so skillful. He explored every valley, every rise. Taking her so deeply into the vortex of pleasure that she was barely aware of the tug on her lacings. Then her gown and corset loosened. And she was free. Free to breathe deeply, free to gasp, free to push herself up and shove the various layers of material down or move them aside, until her torso was bared.
His emerald eyes as he stared at her were more heated than the fire. He shoved himself up, bent his head, and swirled his tongue over her nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling hard, then gently before circling once again.
Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back. The sensations eddying through her were incredible. They came in undulating waves along her limbs, from fingertips to toes. Glorious. Smoldering. Retreating before growing in intensity.
She unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. Placing her hands beneath the parted material, taking delight in his sharp intake of breath, she slowly caressed his ribs, before moving the silk and linen aside to tease his nipple as he’d teased hers. “I knew you’d be beautiful,” she whispered.
“Not as beautiful as you.” He skimmed his hands up her back, his fingers dancing along her spine as he flattened his chest to her breasts and once again claimed her mouth.
Gliding his hand down her side until he reached her hips, he maneuvered her until she was once again lying with her back on the floor. She was keenly aware of his hand traveling up her leg, circling her knees.
He grinned devilishly. “Not so knobby.” Holding her gaze, he took his hand higher. “Tell me to stop.”
“No.”
She watched his throat muscles work as he swallowed. His hand reached the apex at her thighs, his fingers parted the folds.
“You’re so damned wet.” He lowered his head. “And hot.” He kissed one corner of her mouth, then stroked his tongue over her lips as his fingers caressed other lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as his fingers entered her lower. His thumb circled the swollen nubbin, toying with it as pressure built. He slid his mouth downward, taking her nipple between his teeth, tugging.
She whimpered as sensations spiraled. His fingers slid in and out, slowly, gently, his thumb swirled deliciously, pressing more firmly, insisting, insisting—
Everything within her exploded into a thousand stars, hurtling through the heavens. Before she could fully give in to the cry
that burst up from the very core of her being, he’d covered her mouth with his, absorbing her scream, holding her close as her body jerked and spasmed with the force of the pleasure that ricocheted through her.
Only when she stilled did he release his hold. Draped over his lap like some limp rag doll, panting, with her nerve endings still tingling, she stared up at him. His expression was so soft and tender that she wanted to weep. “My word.”
He grazed his fingers over her cheek, watched the movement. “The harm in a kiss. Sometimes it’s difficult to stop.”
“But you did stop.” Having seen horses and dogs mating, she understood that he hadn’t gone as far as he could have. “You didn’t see to your own pleasures.”
“I’m not going to take your virginity on the floor.”
“We could move to a sofa.”
Chuckling, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. “Is it any wonder I adore you?”
Adore was not love but it was awfully close. “Does that mean we’re moving?”
Sadly, he shook his head. “I won’t ruin you, Linnie. I care for you too much to do that.”
He wouldn’t ruin her because he couldn’t offer her marriage. It hurt. Even as she understood her place in his world, it hurt. “I should return home now.”
He studied her for a long minute and she knew that he understood more than her words. He understood that not only the magic of the night was ending, but that she was saying goodbye to their friendship. “The ball will go on for another couple of hours,” he said quietly, and she heard the disappointment. Things between them were changing. They were no longer children who could ignore their places in the world.
“Without me, I’m afraid. I have to help my father bake bread in the morning.” Every Christmas they distributed loaves among the less fortunate in the village.
“Will you at least give me one more dance?”
“I suppose that’s not too much to ask.”
But first they had to set each other to rights. She didn’t want to consider how personal it seemed, how it made her feel as though they were a couple taking care of each other. Even though he’d assisted her and assured her that every hair was in place, she feared that people would be able to discern that she wasn’t quite as tidy as she’d been when she arrived.
Making Merry with the Marquess Page 5