“What?” he asked, wishing she would not stop touching him, and to hell with the surprise.
“Close your eyes,” she told him, so he reluctantly he obeyed.
Lavonia went over to his horse and gathered up the reins, leading it over to her own horse, where she swung up, even with a dress on, and seated herself in the saddle, over his clothes. “Enjoy your walk back to town, love,” she said, and swatted her horse with her whip, sending sod up, to shower over Grange, as his eyes flew open, just in time to see Lavonia disappear over the mound of the moor, trailing his horse behind her, leaving him only with his boots, and mask, and nothing more.
“The Shrew!” he cried out. “I should have known better than to trust her!
Grange untied his mask, and retied it over his private parts, and then pulled his boots on. He would make her pay for this! She had gotten the better of him two times in a row. Then he started roaring with laugher. He was putty in her hands, and he knew it.
CHAPTER TEN
Lavonia was still chuckling, as she let the green taffeta fall down around her shoulders. The only thing that had been missing, was getting to remain to see the look on Grange’s face when he discovered she had ridden away with his horse and clothes. She took his horse to his room above the club, and tied it there, leaving his clothes at the top of the steps next to his door. That would teach him to second guess her. Perhaps he would give up all together, and stop riding out with her. Then she would be rid of the Irishman and he would stop haunting her dreams every night. Or was it Grange haunting her dreams? She had not thought that Grange could have been such a satisfying lover, even if he had been doing it merely to humiliate her, and try to get her to admit that she did need a man in her life.
After all, he had turned down her offer for him to marry her, in name only. He had wanted to continue to humiliate her until he found fit to expose the charade, for his own reasons. Now he had lost his chance to have her, one way or the other, and anything she could do to make him regret that decision gave her great pleasure.
She smoothed the material of her dress, and looked at herself in the mirror. She could not wait to see Grange’s face, when she danced with him tonight. She only wished he knew she had done it to get back at him, not the Irishman. She took extra pains with her hair, and sprayed her neck with the sweet smelling perfume. She would flirt with Grange tonight, she decided, rather than snub him, only to rub it in that he will never have her, either as himself or the Irishman.
Her carriage was waiting and she was in high spirits in a way she had never been before, as she began to realize that she could outsmart a man at his own game. He was so caught up in what he thought she was going to do with him, that he would have allowed her to do almost anything to him that she wanted, she realized. Luckily she did not hate him enough to harm him, but he needed a little of that same humiliation he had made her feel, realizing that he knew who she was all along, and took advantage of the situation.
The sound of the carriage wheels echoed over the cobbles, and then it slowed. “Is there something wrong?” Lavonia called up to the driver.
“No, ma’am,” he called back. “I just think that maybe one of the horses has thrown a shoe, and needed to get down and check.”
“Oh,” Lavonia said, as she waited patiently, feeling the carriage sway, as the driver stepped down, and listening to his footsteps as he walked around the carriage. Then he got back up again. “False alarm,” he called down to her, and the carriage jolted back out on the road again.
Lavonia sat back and closed her eyes. She was a little tired, but she would not miss this dance to save her life, she thought smugly to herself. She would flirt outrageously with Herald as well, because Grange knew that she had let Herald touch her, while he was out robbing the carriage.
Lavonia noticed that the steady rumble of the coble stones under the wheels had changed to the crackle of gravel instead. “Where are you going?” she called to the driver. “You have turned off the main road.”
“That I have, Mrs. Paddington.” he called back.
“But why have you done that?” she asked.
“We have to take a detour,” he informed her.
“But why?” she asked, starting to feel alarmed.
“Because it is necessary,” he informed her.
“Please stop this carriage!” she demanded.
“I will, in due time,” he promised.
“Right now!” she shrieked.
“Sorry, love, but I can’t do that,” he called back in his Irish accent.
“Irish!” she cried.
“Right, love. The very man.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Returning your surprise,” he told her, with a laugh.
When the carriage stopped, Grange stepped down and opened the door to find Lavonia cowering against the wall of the carriage. “Come, my dear. No use fighting it.” He reached his hand out, waiting for her to take it. “Decked out in your finery, I see. Just for me. A pity I will have to remove it all,” he chuckled.
“What are you going to do?” she faltered.
“I told you, it is a surprise,” he smiled broadly, grasping her hand, and pulling her from the carriage. “Come love, don’t be shy. You certainly was not shy the last time we were together.” Grange pulled the carriage blanket from the seat and put it over his arm, before he lead her away from the carriage. He stopped and spread the blanket at the base of a sapling, then moved closer to her, “You owe me, you know,” he whispered, “and I plan to collect.” His hands reached out and started removing the pins from her carefully dressed hair, letting the strands fall around her shoulders, as he tossed the pins aside. “I love your lovely lemon colored hair,” he told her, bringing the strands to his nose and burying his face against them. “What is that sent you are wearing? Lilac?” he ran his lips against her neck, breathing in the sent. As he did so, he reached his hands around her and began unfastening the buttons of her dress, one by one, kissing her neck along with each individual button, until the dress fell from her shoulders.
“Are you trembling?” he whispered. “But you don’t even know the surprise yet,” he teased, as he turned her and took the laces out of her corset, letting the corset fall to the ground.
He continued to disrobe her, until she stood naked as he had out on the moor. “You want to be wild and uninhibited?” he chuckled, as he took her hands and tied them with the lace from her corset, leading her over to the blanket. “Lay down, love,” he told her, motioning to the carriage blanket, and she had no choice but to comply.
Lavonia felt him pull her arms over head and fasten them to the sapling. “I wouldn’t want you to escape in the middle of it,” he murmured in her ear. And then he stood up, and started removing his own clothes.
“Is this another form of rape?” she spit at him.
“Seduction, love. Always seduction.” Then he removed his own clothes. Grange knelt over her, kissing her face, her eyes, her ears, lingering with his tongue, as he lapped against her ear, sucking against her lobe, and Lavonia could not stop the shivers it caused to rage through her body. “Excited already?” he whispered, as he continued to kiss across her face to the other ear, to do the same thing.
Lavonia knew she could not stop what he was doing, and that her body would naturally respond to his teasing, so she closed her eyes, allowing him to have his way, since she couldn’t stop him, even if she wanted to. She realized, that she did not want to stop him. But her being tied, added to the humiliation, and she knew that is why he did it.
Grange moved his mouth over her body, kissing, licking, and sucking his way over every inch, as Lavonia lay helpless to prevent him, her heart leaping, and her breath catching as he found those places that caused her the greatest amount of pleasure, and he chuckled each time he knew he had brought her a small amount of pleasure. Finally, his mouth started to settled over her, as though he was about to ravish her with his mouth, but all he merely did was breath light
ly upon her, as he skirted her yearning need. He knew she wanted that same desire, he had anticipated when she left him on the moor, with only his mask to cover himself with. Every time she started to lift towards him, he would back away, chuckling at her disappointment, only to start in again, when her breath slowed. It was almost more than she could endure, having him so close and yet never allowing her the satisfaction of actually caressing her in the way he knew she longed for him to do.
“Now you are beginning to know what I felt like, the last two times you teased me,” he whispered. “So I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did, the other night,” he chuckled, and then continued to tease her with his mouth and hands, always bringing her to the brink of madness, and then backing off. The teasing continued, until she realized he was never going to give her completion, regardless of how long he kept her here.
“Rest a bit, he whispered, as he moved his mouth to her breasts, listening to the rapid beat of her heart that was trying to catch up to the beat of his own heart, he wanted her so bad, only he didn’t want her to feel the pleasure she had deprived him of.
When her breath had calmed completely, Grange’s mouth lowered down over her stomach again, leading to that sensitive place that opened to the center of her universe, but instead of pleasing her, the way he indicated he might, instead, he used the place to satisfy his own needs, with quick demanding strokes, which brought him to his purpose, before she could barely respond to what he had done. Then he pulled away, as she gave a whimper. He wasn’t sure if it was in disappointment, or because she was upset at him? He didn’t want to analyze it.
Lavonia didn’t speak, and Grange was glad of it, because he didn’t want to hear what she was thinking. He worried that this was probably the last time she would ever allow him to touch her again, and maybe it was for the best, he thought. But still, the thought saddened him.
“Are you through?” she asked at last, because he laid so quietly beside her, without even touching her.
“I’m getting my second wind,” he murmured. “I am not finished with you yet,” he promised, and Lavonia lay stiffly, wondering what would be next?
At length, she felt him lay over her again, and then he was pulling her against him, taking her for a second time, but this time, he moved slowly, prolonging every sensation, bringing her to a new kind of anticipation.
As he moved over her, Lavonia, realized that this was the man she wanted to share her bed with, but she would never bow to Grange now. This was his sweet cruel punishment, to let her know what she had been missing, she turned him down as a husband and a lover. To beg him to be with her now, would be throwing away the last shreds of her dignity. And besides, he would never offer for her again. Not now, after what she had done to him, and now what he was doing to her.
She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, as she hugged him between her legs, raising naturally to him against her will, or maybe it wasn’t against her will. She just knew she wanted him there for as long as he wanted to remain. She would suffer the whole night with him, if he demanded it, and not regret a moment of it.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked softly. “Why are you crying.”
“You’re not hurting me,” she sniffled. “But I am sorry for leaving you out on the moor like that,” she confessed.
“Is this a trick to get me to trust you?” He knew he couldn’t trust her, and it pained him to know she didn’t trust him either. They had crossed swords in the worst possible way, and now they would both have to pay for their actions.
“What more could I do to you?” she asked. “You will only retaliate in some other way.”
“You are probably right. But you do egg me on, you know,” he told her. He had lost his need to punish her, but at the same time, he would not give her the satisfaction of thinking he wanted to satisfy her need, just because she was weakening to his treatment of her. And he was not going to satisfy his own need and then feel worse when it finally all had to come to an end.
“I suppose this is over,” he grumbled, pulling free of her, before either of them had reached the glory that had been promised. He undid her hands. “Get dressed,” is all he said, and she complied, as he too began putting on his clothes.
When they were finally dressed, he took her into his arms, clutching against her, in a way he never dreamed he would ever want to cling to a woman. He knew he had to have her, whether she wanted him or not. Even if it meant fooling her into marrying him. But how he was going to do that, he wasn’t sure?
Lavonia stood in the moonlight, snuggled in the arms of Grange, wishing that she had agreed to marry him all those years ago. Wishing she had agreed to become his lover, only a few months ago. But he could never learn that she knew who he was. Once the game was over, he would drop her flat and laugh in her face at her gullibility and the way he finally got her to submit to him. As long as she pretended he was the Irishman to her, she could enjoy his love making in the future, she thought.
She started to kiss down his neck, because she knew he was upset, even if he did cling to her, like he never wanted to release her. “I’m sorry for everything I have done,” she murmured, against his skin. “I promise I won’t tease you like that again.”
Grange chuckled. “I don’t know whether to believe you. Maybe you are too wild for me,” he whispered.
“I believe you are attracted to my wildness,” she laughed,
“You know we fit well together,” he whispered. “Say you will become my lover, and I will forgive you,” he begged.
“I am already your lover. You have turned me into a wanton woman,” she accused.
“And what of your search for a husband?” he asked. “Are you going to leave me for a husband someday?”
“I will just have to postpone it,” she told him. “At least for the year I am supposed to be in mourning.”
“That would be a wise decision on your part. No more flirting and getting written up in the rags?” he questioned.
“Oh, you cannot insist I do that. I do not want to disappoint my fans, but rest assured, your hands will be the only ones touching me.”
“What about the guard?”
“I can deal with him. If I have to use him to keep him distracted while you rob the carriages…..”
“Let’s not go out any more. Call an end to it, Lavonia.”
“No,” she told him. It was one thing to let Grange make love to her as the Irishman, but she would not give him the satisfaction of stopping her.
Once that happened, Grange would tire of his game with her. She knew then he would reveal himself, and laugh in her face, the last humiliating gesture, for his revenge of the way she had rejected him all these years. It had been a long painstaking agenda, and like he said, he had held his breath for seven years. Now he had his crowning glory, but it wouldn’t be complete, until he let her know that he was the Irishman. Once that happened, the masquerade would be over. She would have lost every shred of dignity she ever thought she had, and he could expose her as the highwayman, as the finishing blow.
The thought of it crushed her, knowing that her enjoyment of the Irishman could not last forever. But somehow it was worth it, to have a few hours in his arms, submitting completely, as she allowed her heart to dream just a little.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Even with guards, the roads are not safe,” Marybeth shuddered, as she delicately lifted her fork to her mouth, and pouted towards Grange.
Lavonia watched the way Grange bent his head closer to Marybeth, glancing down at the tops of her well rounded breasts that hovered above the square cut neckline of the green gown she was wearing. It was almost the same color as Grange’s eyes, or was it her dress that was reflecting in his eyes, she wondered? She thought of how he had said if he ever got married, he would marry someone like Marybeth, and the thought of it sickened her somehow. Even Lavonia’s uninhibited response to the Irishman, would never sway Grange to marry her. The Irishman was his ploy to unravel her resistance, until he had her
where he wanted her, and then expose himself as the Irishman, and she knew it.
The luncheon benefit was being held on the lawns of the Wellington’s manor, and Lavonia could not help but remember her first encounter of becoming a highwayman and robbing them. It seemed such a long time ago. She felt a slight twinge of guilt, and tried to think about something else.
“Apparently the highwaymen are smarter than the guards,” Grange responded to Marybeth’s statement.
“Once they are captured, the excitement will come to an end,” Marybeth said almost disappointedly.
“Yes, I’m sure it will,” Lavonia said absently.
“What is the matter, Lavonia?” Grange asked. “I thought you would be happy to be in your eye catching attire once more, flirting with all the young men. You seem so glum. Have you lost your taste for it? I haven’t seen you flirting all day.”
She turned and gazed at him for a long moment. “And deprive you of something scathing to write about me?” she said, trying to put on a smile. “I am just tired today.”
She should be, Grange thought, remembering how she kept him awake all night, as the Irishman, acting as though she would never tire of touching him, or having him touch her. “Burning the candle at both ends?” He asked. “I know you have a lover hidden away someplace,” he accused.
Of course he knew! He was that lover, but he would continue to taunt her, trying to make her feel guilty in some way, for enjoying what they spent their time together doing, after each robbery.
“Dear Grange, you know perfectly well, that is just something you have conjured up in order to have something to write about in your rag. Do I look like someone who has taken on a lover? If so, why would I have to continue to flirt with the men, in order to convince someone to take pity on me?”
“Because it is your nature,” he laughed. “Perhaps you have more than one lover,” he suggested.
Marybeth gave a little laugh. “Do you, Lavonia?” she asked. “Mr. Marks has hinted that he may be your lover,” she tittered.
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