To Vex a Viscount (Lords of London Book 4)

by Tamara Gill

  “I’m sure you and lady luck will ensure it’s so.” He let her go without another word. With Lady X, no one ever really knew if she would help or not should you request assistance. She was an oddity for certain, but hopefully knowing Lizzie was innocent–so much more innocent than anyone else present–she would look out for the young woman. And by God, if he couldn’t marry Lizzie, he’d at least taste her sweet lips at any and all opportunities that arose.

  Once the room was cleared of ladies, the men sat about a round card table. Lord Benedict, a frequent guest to these types of events, picked up the top and spun it. It landed on Lord Stratford, a man who’d just come into a large fortune and viscountcy. “Seems you’re first, lucky sod,” Lord Benedict said, smiling and pushing the young buck toward the door.

  A lady in a blood-red gown that dripped seduction stood behind the door when Lord Stratford opened it. There was little hesitation between them to touch, and something told Hugo that they’d partnered up already during the house party. They left the room in a flurry of squeals and masculine laughter.

  Gentleman after gentleman spun the little top, and lady after lady came in and within only a few moments left with their partner for the night.

  When Hugo was the only gentleman left, Lady X gestured toward the door. “You may as well open it yourself, my lord. I’m sure you’ll find the woman you’re looking for behind the threshold.”

  Expectation thrummed through him as he strode across the room and wrenched the door open, only to find no one on the other side. Perplexed, he stood there a moment, before laugher sounded behind him.

  “It would seem your quarry has escaped.”

  He sighed. Why had she left? Well, he could probably guess as to why–she had been waiting to be mauled by the opposite sex, without the certainty it would be him doing the mauling, someone she seemed to enjoy kissing. It was only normal that Lizzie would make a hasty exit.

  “So it would seem,” he said, strolling from the room and heading toward the back of the house to where the billiards room was located. He would have a hit about for a time, before he retired. He strode past the staircase cupboard, taking no notice of the door being partially opened before a hand reached out and clasped his arm, and tugged him into the small storage room.

  Hugo didn’t have a chance to react before the softest lips he’d ever felt gently touched his. Desire rocked through him and the breath in his lungs seized. “So, you wished for a kiss after all,” he said when she drew away. “I thought when I didn’t see you at the door that you’d changed your mind about me.”

  He felt her smile more than saw it, and, wanting her with a need that left him breathless, he pulled her up hard against his chest. “Can we try that again? Longer this time, perhaps?”

  Lizzie ran her fingers up his shoulders and into his hair. “I took a chance and hoped you’d come in this direction. How lucky am I to guess so well?” Her fingers fisted into his locks. “I’m at your leisure, my lord.”

  No other words were required. Hugo clasped her chin and kissed her, letting her know in no uncertain terms how much he wanted her. She gasped, then her tentative tongue touched his, and he fought for control.

  Damn, she was the loveliest woman to have in his arms. She fitted him to perfection, like a pair of perfectly made kid leather gloves. Didn’t shy away from his advances and was all too willing participant. His blood pumped loud in his ears and he groaned. How in only a few days had she become his sole purpose? He attended these events to lose himself, to enjoy women who liked games and were free from society’s rules while under this roof, but with Lizzie everything was different. His body reacted differently to her touch, her gasps made him yearn to create more. He wanted to please her, make her laugh, and see her bite her bottom lip when he made her embarrassed.

  I want her…and not in the biblical way.

  “Your kiss is wicked,” she gasped, leaning further into his arms, her breasts hard against his chest. Hugo hardened, the delicious ache in his cock fogging his mind. She wanted adventure, not to lose her innocence. He fought his hazy mind to remind himself of the fact.

  He clasped her hip and pushed her against the wall. Muffled laughter sounded in the hall outside, footsteps and servants, but none of that mattered. Certainly not at the kind of house party they had found themselves at.

  “So is yours. You’ve placed me under your spell, my lady,” he murmured, never having said anything more truthful in his life. Her fluttering hand against his cheek almost undid his resolve to not push her further, demand more of her before they had to part ways, not just here at Lady X’s home, but back in London.

  “Then do not stop,” she said, clasping his lapels and pulling him back to kiss her again.

  Lizzie leaned up and kissed Hugo, taking all that he offered her. The hardness that pushed against her belly left her in no doubt that he desired her as much as she desired him. Dizzy with expectation and need, she wrapped herself about him, kissing him with as much force as she could.

  Having learned a little during their past encounters, she deepened the embrace, taking a little control back, and his gasp against her lips was payment enough. She longed to hear the sound again. Wanted to be the only woman to ever make him in such a state.

  She reached down and clasped his sex, wanting to touch him as intimately as he’d touched her yesterday. The delicious ache between her thighs thrummed and the looks between her cousin and his wife became all too clear.

  He hoisted her legs about his waist and pushed them closer than they had ever been before. Still, it was not close enough. She wanted him, all of him, and when he undulated against her sex stars fluttered before her eyes.

  Oh yes, this was what she desired. Her heart thumped loud in her ears, and she gasped as he teased them both, giving more pleasure than she’d ever thought possible.

  “I wish I knew your name,” she gasped, kissing him quickly. “I have an urge to call it out.”

  He grinned, watching her as he thrust against her sex. “Maybe one day we’ll be properly introduced.”

  Lizzie chuckled. How wicked she was being, and how wonderful it was to be in Lord Wakely’s arms while being so. He kissed her again with a fierceness that left her reeling and she clasped his shoulders. The sensations consumed her, and made her wonder how she would ever go on in life without experiencing them again.

  And then, like the day before, her body took flight and she shattered in his arms, gasping through his kiss as pleasure rocked from her core to spread to every part of her body.

  His breathing ragged, he slowly lowered her to the ground and stepped away. She shivered, already missing his heat.

  “May I escort you back to your room, my beautiful lady?”

  He took her hand, kissing it quickly before laying it softly against his arm. Lizzie bit her lip at the sweet gesture. “I…yes. You may.”

  The following morning Lizzie woke with a start when her maid bustled into the room. “Miss Lizzie, the river will be passable by mid-morning, or so the groundsman has stated, so we must pack up your things and be back at the inn post haste before anyone finds out that you were in attendance here.”

  Lizzie sat up with a start. Leave? She didn’t wish to leave this party, not when she could kiss Hugo in dark, quiet cupboards any time she wished, and not have to be concerned about what anyone saw or thought. Not when for the first time in her life she could freely indulge in passion with a man who was so sensually gifted.

  Blast it. But then, if she didn’t leave her reputation would be in ruins should anyone find out she was here. And she had been here for a few days now. If Lady X’s guests had been stranded due to the river being flooded and the roads being too boggy and wet, it was only rational that others from Lady Remmnick’s party would travel to check on her whereabouts. Even now there could be a letter making its way to her mama asking if she arrived safely home after not attending their party. She would have to leave, get back to the inn and pretend that was where she had been al
l the time.

  “Of course,” she said, throwing her blankets off and rushing toward her maid, who held an emerald travelling gown. She helped Mary get her dressed as fast as she could, then checked the room once they were packed to ensure she’d not left anything behind. It was an hour of madness. Putting on her mask, she left her room, then paused outside her door.

  The viscount’s door remained closed at this early hour. He would probably not wake for some time yet. Disappointment stabbed at her that she’d never see him in such relaxed circumstances again. The past few days at Lady X’s home had been scandalous, yes, but awfully fun and carefree. The complete opposite to London at times.

  Lizzie pursed her lips, unsure when she’d see Lord Wakely again. Would he wish to seek her out even if their paths did cross, or was their moment of madness these past days simply a little fun for his lordship, and now his dealings with her were done?

  That was assuming he’d even recognized her over these past few days. He’d never mentioned her name, but something told her he knew who she was. He was friends with her cousin, so it would certainly explain his instant hovering and keeping his sights on her. Maybe the attraction she thought was between them was simply in her imagination, and Lord Wakely had only sought her out to keep her virtue safe from the other rogues present…but not his, it would seem.

  Taking a deep breath, she carried on toward the stairs. In the entrance hall Lady X stood smiling, and Lizzie smiled in return. “Thank you for having me, and I must apologize for leaving with such haste, but, well…I’m sure you understand why.”

  Lady X walked her outside and toward the carriage. “Of course I understand, dear, and as much as I’ve enjoyed your company, this is not the place for such a lovely young woman as yourself. But I shall see you in town, where we can converse without those silly masks.”

  Lizzie clutched her ladyship’s hand. “I look forward to it.” She gave the house, where for a time her dream of the Lord Wakely had come true, one last longing glance then stepped up into the carriage. She steeled herself for seeing her mama once again, and the many questions she would face over her whereabouts these past three days.

  Chapter 8

  Upon her return to town, Lizzie found London and all the society balls and parties the same, if not a little tedious and tame after her exposure at Lady X’s house party. In the week since she’d arrived back she’d not seen Hugo at all, although the whispers concerning his courting of Miss Fox had doubled and there was talk of an impending announcement of their engagement. Lizzie pushed the disappointing thought aside, not wanting to think about that. The idea of him with another woman, kissing someone else, taking her to his bed, was unbearable to say the least.

  Her stomach roiled, and she took a steadying breath to stem the nausea.

  “Good morning, dearest. How well you look today,” her friend Sally said, sitting down on a chair beside Lizzie’s dressing table and pulling off her gloves.

  Lizzie frowned. “What are you doing here so early?” She checked the time. “You’re not normally up until after luncheon. You must have something extremely important to tell me to be here at this time.”

  Sally laughed and then dismissed Lizzie’s maid. “You’ll never guess who rode back into London on his phaeton carriage yesterday afternoon.”

  Lizzie shook her head, having no clue who Sally could mean, although a little part of her thrilled at the idea it could be Hugo. She’d thought he was back in town already, and giving her a wide berth, but perhaps he wasn’t. Just like the rumors surrounding his courtship, perhaps the ton was wrong on both counts. Maybe he wasn’t after Miss Fox, and perchance he’d been away, and the ton was simply making up stories to have something to talk about.

  It would certainly not be the first time such a thing had occurred.

  “Who?” she asked, checking her hair and finding the design agreeable and thankfully a little flattering. Mary was becoming a very talented lady’s maid.

  “Lord Wakely. And there is gossip he’s ruined a young, innocent miss and will have to marry her.”

  “What?” Lizzie stood, causing her dressing table chair to fall over backwards. “When did this happen?”

  Sally threw her a curious look. “At a county house party, although the details are very sketchy at present, but la. Imagine if it were true? I wonder who the woman in question is.”

  Lizzie stared in horror at her friend, hating the fact that this ruined woman could possibly be her. She had been so careful returning to the inn, and had been found later that day by Lady Remmnick, who’d been beside herself with worry. But Lizzie had explained that she could not travel to their estate due to the impassable roads, and their own small river that had to be crossed to enter, so she’d simply stayed put at the inn with her maid.

  No one other than Lady X knew that she’d been at the house party. Did others in attendance guess as to her identity? Did Lord Wakely too know who she’d been after all?

  Of course, the first day she arrived, having no idea she was at the wrong location, it was possible someone saw her enter the house before she was escorted upstairs to her room where masks awaited her to hide her identity.

  Oh dear, this was a disaster! Her mama would kill her and put her into a nunnery should she find out about her little escapade. Any chance of obtaining a suitable, secure husband would also be lost, never mind finding one who would love her. Her chance of marrying with affection would be an unattainable dream due to her own stupidity. She’d be thoroughly ruined!

  Lizzie shook the panic that threatened to take hold. Lord Wakely was a rogue, of that she had no doubt. Perhaps after she left he had found someone else to amuse himself with, and this fallen woman, whoever she was, the poor soul, was an innocent. Lizzie rolled her eyes, knowing full well how absurd that sounded. No, the young woman in this latest scandal was her. She was a stupid fool to delude herself otherwise.

  “With the dissolute reputation of the viscount, it could be anyone,” she said. “He is a rogue after all. Let us not worry any further about it. I’m sure he’ll do the right thing and marry the girl and save her reputation, should he have acted so low.”

  Sally grinned. “Oh, I cannot wait to find out who’ll marry such a man. He is awfully handsome and rich, and no doubt would keep any woman happily occupied I would think.”

  Lizzie started toward the fire, needing its warmth. “Two nights ago at the theater there was talk of his courtship with Miss Fox. The gossip was his uncle in America is set to arrive within the month, no doubt to attend the wedding. I think this new scandalous rumor is a diversion. He’s obviously going to marry Miss Fox and add her fortune to his. Maybe they had a tryst and it’s becoming public knowledge.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Even so, the next few weeks in town are set to be very interesting,” Sally said, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

  Lizzie smiled, but pain radiated within her chest. Silly of her, but she’d thought they’d had a connection. His kisses certainly discombobulated her–totally seduced her into the idea of him and her, having a future together. Had she been naive? A silly chit who was imagining more than what was there? Maybe Lord Wakely never knew who she was at all and had simply enjoyed himself with a woman at a party, just as he’d done many times before.

  Sally stood and went over to the armoire, flicking through Lizzie’s gowns at a rapid pace. “Everyone will be attending the Lefroys’ ball this evening, and so too are you. Now,” she said, pulling out her favourite gold and silver threaded gown, “this is what you shall wear tonight. The coloring suits your red locks.”

  “What should it matter what I wear? I have no one to impress.” Not anymore at least.

  Sally laid the gown on the bed and went in search of gloves. “That has no bearing at all. Everyone who is anyone will be in attendance, no doubt to see Lord Wakely. They’ll want to see if his interest in Miss Fox is still founded, or if these new rumors point to another woman entirely.”

  Lizzie rang the bell for her m
aid. “Very well, I’ll do as you ask, but in all truth, I do not care who his lordship is to be betrothed to. Nor do I wish to see the ton take to the fallen woman, should there even be one, and peck her character apart with their elevated opinions.”

  “Well,” Sally said, picking up her gloves and slipping them on, “aren’t we cutting this morning? Now, make sure you get some rest today, for tonight shall be a long, exciting time and I expect you to keep me company until the early hours of the morning.”

  Lizzie sighed. “Since you’re so keen on my attendance, I shall meet you at the supper room doors at eight.”

  “I shall see you then.” Lizzie watched Sally turn and leave just as Mary arrived.

  “I’m to attend the Lefroys’ ball tonight. Please have a bath prepared late this afternoon along with a supper tray brought to my room for an early dinner.”

  “You do not wish to eat at the ball, Miss Lizzie?”

  “I prefer not to eat too much at such outings.” And if the nerves coursing through her stomach already were any indication, eating at the ball this evening would be nigh on impossible.

  Hugo watched the entrance to the Lefroys’ ballroom like a man starved of water looked for rain. For the last week he’d thought of nothing else but Lizzie Doherty and the time they’d spent together at Lady X’s estate. Not to mention the delectable kisses she’d bestowed. That the little minx had hightailed it back to London the following day was not what he’d expected to wake up to find, after a very restless night thinking of nothing other than her sweet lips.

  He rubbed his jaw, reminding himself it was for the best that she had left. Their interactions had become more and more carnal during the days they were together, and a few times he’d had to restrain himself from begging for more.

  He’d left for his own estate the same day she departed, determined to move on with his plan of marrying Miss Fox before his uncle could claim his inheritance. Time was running out for him to find a rich wife, and Miss Fox had shown she was open to such an arrangement. Therefore he’d pushed the idea of Lizzie from his mind. They had been at Lady X’s house party in disguise, after all, so he could forget the fact he’d known who she was the moment she’d walked into the parlor that day. He’d made no promises, no declarations of undying love.