“It’s lovely here but…” Mary looked to him with pursed lips and a puckered brow.
“But?” he prompted.
“I’m afraid it lacks one key element when compared to home.”
“And what is that?” Hadley asked with a hint of a frown.
She flashed him a playful grin. “The aromatic essence…of sheep.”
“Thank God for that!” Hadley threw his head back with a chuckle and offered his arm. “Shall we stroll? I would be delighted to show you all of its glories.”
…
During their leisurely perambulation of the deer park, and the Arethusa Fountain, Mary noticed a subtle transformation. Lord Hadley’s expression, his voice, even his way of moving seemed more relaxed, and carefree. It was as if the setting had brought forth another side of his character, an endearingly boyish side that he kept hidden, or perhaps had forgotten altogether.
“I thought to save the best for last.” Lord Hadley said with a grin as they approached what he referred to as the water gardens. “Impressive, is it not?”
“It’s simply breathtaking,” she gushed. And it was. The pools that formed this centerpiece of the landscaped grounds were designed to empty one into another until the last one formed the most magnificent cascade.
“The water is supplied by the Longford River,” he explained, “a man-made canal built to supply Hampton Court Palace. Charles Montagu, my second-cousin-once-removed, or some such, constructed it all when I was about ten years old. My cousins and I used to sneak away at night to swim in these pools.”
“But not during the heat of the day?” Mary asked, patting the beads of perspiration from her forehead and feeling a warm moist trickle between her breasts.
“No.” He scowled. “My father would never have permitted such a vulgar display. The scions of noble families do not shed their clothing and frolic like rustic rabble.” Even as he spoke, he shrugged out of his coat, dropping it heedlessly on the grass. He then removed his shoes. His stockings followed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What I’ve bloody well always wanted to do.” He grinned back at her. “I’m going to frolic like the rustic rabble in the pools. Would you care to join me?”
Mary stared at him aghast. “Here? Now?”
“Yes, here and now. I’m a grown man now and can do as I damned-well please, and it would please me greatly to get out of these insufferable clothes and immerse myself in the cool water. But if my suggestion injures your sensibilities…”
“My sensibilities?” Mary replied with a burst of uncontrolled mirth. “It’s not that! I was quite accustomed to bathing in the pond at Welham Grove. But the countess was most condemnatory of such a hoydenish practice. She would never approve of this!”
“Is she here?” he asked with a flicker of his brow.
“Well, no.”
“Then who is to tell her?”
Mary looked to Jenny who exchanged a conspiratorial look with Lord Hadley. “I see nothing, miss!” the maid replied. “Indeed, I think I’ll go unpack the baskets for your nuncheon.” Stifling a giggle, Jenny tripped off without a backward glance. Lord Hadley laughed and held out his hand, but Mary still hesitated. “I cannot,” she protested. “What of my gown?”
“Remove it,” he answered. “You can bathe in your shift, can’t you?”
“M-my shift?” she bit her lip and looked longingly at the shimmering waters.
“Fear not for your virtue, my sweet, for I have seen a woman in her shift before without feeling the least compulsion to ravish her.” He gestured again to the shimmering water. “It beckons to you, Mary.”
She laughed, her unease beginning to dispel. “But what if we are caught?”
“We will not be disturbed. I obtained permission to use the park from the Montagu’s.” He was already working on the buttons of his waistcoat.
She wrinkled her forehead, “You are quite certain about this?”
“Where is your sense of adventure, my dear? Or has Lady Blanchard managed to vanquish it altogether? I suppose you would rather return to the countess’ drawing room?” His look taunted.
He had dropped the gauntlet and Mary hesitated no longer. She spun her back to him. “Your assistance please?” she asked as primly as she could manage. He went to work on the laces of her gown with fingers as deft as the most competent ladies maid. In seconds, Mary’s bodice was sliding from her shoulders. When he made to loosen her stays, she stepped away with a wary look.
“You won’t be able to swim in those,” he warned her.
“I’ll manage,” she replied. She withdrew behind a hedge for modesty’s sake where she wriggled out of her gown, laying it over the shrubbery and then removed her shoes, garters, and stockings. Divested of outer garments, she contemplated her stays once more. He was right. They were so tight she could barely breathe, let alone swim. Choosing common sense over propriety, she returned to Lord Hadley.
His cravat was now discarded leaving him in breeches and a loose linen shirt, the latter open enough to reveal an indecent amount of bare male flesh. Mary’s gaze was drawn to the column of his throat, and tracked lower to the swirls of dark hair scattered over his chest. Just looking at him in this state of partial undress made her mouth dry. Mary didn’t understand why she was so profoundly affected by him. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her gaze drifted lower, over a body that looked lean, and muscular. She wondered what he looked like without the rest of his clothes.
He met her stare with a knowing grin that suggested he read her thoughts. Her face enflamed. She hastily spun to give him her back. “You were right, my lord. They are too tight. Perhaps if you just loosen them a bit?”
“Certainly.”
But instead of attending directly to her laces, she felt his hands at her waist, sliding up her sides, and back down again, slowly skirting over her ribcage, and then coming to rest level with her breasts. “Perhaps it would be best to remove them altogether,” he murmured in her ear.
“But, it wouldn’t be proper,” she whispered back, her heart thumping erratically against her breastbone. Although she tried to ignore the caress of his thumbs just below her breasts, her nipples could not, tingling and hardening into tight peaks. She could barely breathe now and it had nothing to do with her laces.
“Are you always so concerned with being proper, sweet Molly? Somehow, I don’t think so. Indeed, I think even now that there are some decidedly improper thoughts rattling around in your pretty head.” He nuzzled her hair and then his bristled cheek softly abraded her neck, sending shivers of sublime sensation down her spine.
He was right. She realized how ridiculous she sounded, for nothing about this was proper. She was about to go swimming in her shift…with an indecently attractive man, no less! Yet the longer she spent in Lord Hadley’s company, the less Mary seemed to care about decorum—especially here where it was only he and she.
“You are in no danger, Mary—unless you wish to be. I told you I’ve seen a number of women without their stays.”
“One wonders why you should have seen so many women in a state of undress,” she remarked softly.
“So coy, dear Mary? Do you wish to know if I’ve had many lovers? Is that what you really ask?”
“Of course not! I—I would never be so impertinent.” She tried to pull away but his hands anchored her in place.
“To answer your unasked question, Mary, I am inordinately fond of the fair sex, and they seem to be equally fond of me.”
“I see. How fortunate for you.” Mary stiffened at the unbidden vision of Lord Hadley embracing another woman and speaking in that same velvety tone. “My stays, please.”
The rumble in his chest vibrated against her back. His voice still tickled her ear. “I am flattered by your pique. It’s charming.”
“I’m not jealous!” She realized to her chagrin that she had risen to his bait.
He chuckled again. “You really should be thankful, you know. For I acquired pricel
ess knowledge and experience that I would be delighted to share with you.”
“I appreciate your generous offer, but no thank you.”
She jerked away, stripped off her stays, and flung them to the ground. Yes, she was irrationally jealous and furious that he toyed with her. She whirled around at a splashing sound and advanced to the pool, noting that his shirt had joined his other discarded garments on the grass. Thank God, she didn’t see his breeches.
Standing at the water’s edge, she tracked the shadow of his body gliding beneath, mesmerized by the graceful movements of his long, strong limbs. Everything about him seemed to be so elegant…so perfect. He suddenly broke the surface in front of her with a gasp and a smile full of brilliant white teeth. Chest deep in water, he approached the place where she stood.
“Come now, Mary,” he urged. “It’s so cool and refreshing.” He reached for her hand. When she hesitated, he hoisted himself upward and jerked her off balance and into the pool.
“You’re a beast!” She shrieked and thumped him with her fist.
He caught her against him with a laugh. “You were taking too long. I thought you might back out.”
“I’m not such a coward,” she protested.
“No? You were not about to change your mind?” He tilted her chin to meet his gaze. “Don’t lie,” he said. “I could see the retreat in your eyes.”
And she could see heaven in his.
Glorious infinite blue, framed by full thick lashes covered with drops of water. He held her, against him, ignoring the rivulets of water streaming down his face. His gaze dipped to her mouth and her breathing arrested. Would he kiss her again? His earlier remark about the strawberry tarts had teased her all day, filling her with anticipation. She glanced up at him through her lashes, her eyes replete with longing.
“Shall I, sweet Mary?” he murmured, low and seductive.
He had to know her answer for her lips involuntarily parted. Yes. She wanted this, had dreamt of it, but also knew how easily things could spiral out of control. She pressed her hands against his chest just as his mouth came down. Cool and slick, his lips slid smoothly over hers. He prodded only once with his tongue and she opened for him, losing herself in the sultry sensation and tantalizing taste of him.
His kiss became more possessive, his tongue swirling and gliding with hers in a dizzying advance and retreat. Was there anything on this earth more sublime than Hadley’s lips? His tongue? His arms about her? His kiss was everything she remembered, everything she wanted and so much more.
He worked down her neck with his glorious mouth, licking, sucking, lightly biting, and pulling her inexorably into a wondrous whirlpool of sensation. She arched into him with a soft moan. He paused at the hollow between her collarbones, glancing up with a wicked look.
“So pale and soft and delectable. I wish to devour them.”
To her mortification, Mary realized that he referred to her breasts, clearly and indecently visible through a shift gone completely transparent. The fabric, wet and billowing in the water, left nothing to the imagination.
He cupped her breasts, stroking her taut nipples with his thumbs. They tingled and grew instantly hard. “Shall I suckle you now? Would you like that, sweetling?” As his hot tongue traced the delicate contour of her ear, he looked down, adding archly, “I think you would.”
His suggestion stunned her. Mary knew it was wrong to allow this to progress any further, but couldn’t seem to break away, as she knew she ought. And he took unscrupulous advantage of her hesitation, dipping his head to her breasts, kissing, licking, and biting.
Her world went blinding white with bliss when he drew the hardened peak into his mouth and suckled. Dear Lord in heaven! How she loved the possessive feel of his mouth, of his hands on her body. Instead of resisting, she tangled her fingers in his wet hair urging for more. She never wanted this to end, never wanted to let go of him.
His hands smoothed down over her rounded hips and rested on her buttocks. He cupped and squeezed them, pulling her tightly against… Oh my! Her breath hitched on a gasp.
He drew her hand down between them. His voice rumbled, low, and husky. “Do you understand what that is, Mary? What it means?”
She bit her lip, confounded how to answer.
“No?” He cocked a brow over blue eyes gone nearly black. “Then I will tell you. It means I am deeply aroused. It means I want to touch you, Mary, and I want you to touch me. I want you to feel my desire for you pulsing in your hands, to imagine me inside you, filling that empty place that even now begins to ache with your need.”
His words made her tremble all over and sent a hot and tingling sensation to her most private place. She should have been shocked and repulsed, but instead felt lost in a tumult of emotions—equally exciting and frightening. “B-but we are in a pool! It’s daylight! And Jenny—”
“Desire is oblivious to time and place, dear Mary; and Jenny, bless her, is the very soul of discretion. I want you, Mary. Please trust me, my sweet. Let me show you the ways of love.”
She stared back at him, her body filled with the want he had described, but common sense held her surrender at bay. “Love? Don’t speak of love to me. You describe meaningless pleasure. It has nothing to do with love!”
He gave her a roguish smile. “Pleasure is never meaningless, my sweet.”
“Nevertheless, you cannot convince me that the mere joining of two bodies is love.”
“No? Is not worship a display of adoration, Mary? Even the holy mother church would agree with that. And is not adoration one of the many facets of love? Sexual congress is the highest possible form of worship between a man and a woman, and is therefore indisputably an act of love.”
“I’ll allow that you display an impressive talent in the manipulation of words.”
“What else would you have me call it, Mary? Fornication is such an ugly term.”
“But a spade is a spade after all,” she retorted. “I would rather have honesty. If it is purely physical pleasure, call it thus. I would rather you spoke truth with candor than your perfidy with pretty lies.”
He laughed outright. “You would have honesty, sweet Mary? Most women prefer nothing better than wicked whispers and pretty lies. Playing along with a seduction is a widely accepted pretext for forfeiting virtue.”
Mary gazed at him solemnly. “If I were to forfeit my virtue, it would be by my deliberate choice, and not under some devious pretext like seduction. I don’t look for excuses for my decisions. I take responsibility for my actions—whether for better or ill, and cannot respect those who do not.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. His gaze softened. “You are a priceless gem and unlike any woman I’ve ever known. If you thought to put me off, you have failed for I only desire you even more. I will have you, Mary. I will make you mine.”
The dull throb that had afflicted her from the very moment his lips met hers had spread until her entire body thrummed with the desire to succumb to him. Oh, how she wanted to; for she was so stupidly and dangerously infatuated. Mary struggled to quash those feelings, reminding herself what ruin she courted.
“Please no. I can’t! I am to be wed. I won’t bring shame upon myself or my future husband.”
“Yes, indeed,” he mocked. “The as-yet-nameless-faceless bridegroom.”
“You know I have no choice in that!”
“But there you are wrong, my dear. One always has choices.” He stretched out his hand, his voice velvety smooth and so very seductive. “Such as your choice to give yourself to me.”
“No.” She extricated herself and backed away with newfound resolution. “You seem to think you can bend me to your will, but you cannot. It is not your decision but mine, and I won’t let you ruin me only for your pleasure.”
She pushed away in a need to escape temptation, wading and splashing to the edge of the pool, only to realize there was no way out. The water that only reached his chest was above her shoulders, weighing her down, and there was no st
ep or other means by which she could hoist herself up. He had followed, his big body forming a wall in front of her. She quivered with apprehension of his hands, his mouth, of any part of him, for she knew she couldn’t resist again. But there was nowhere to go with the stone edge of the pool boring into her back.
“Please don’t touch me again,” she begged. “I need to get out. Now.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible, my pet, unless I lift you out…but that necessitates my hands on your person.” He shook his head slowly. “No, my dear, I fear I can’t help you without touching you.”
“Can you not make a step for me with your leg?”
“My ever sensible and resourceful Mary,” he chuckled and bent his knee to do as she requested.
Mary placed her foot on his thigh, grasped the granite edge of the pool, and pulled herself half out of the water, only to have her foot slip. She came back down to straddle the hard thigh she had just stepped upon.
“Now this is quite an interesting dilemma.” he purred. Hooking an arm about her waist, he located the hollow behind her ear, lavishing it with his hot tongue. “Do you still want me to release you? Is that what you think you want, Mary?” He deliberately shifted his thigh between her legs. It was the most indescribable friction—equal parts pleasure and agony. “Or shall I show you the kind of release you truly crave?” He slid a hand up her thigh, smooth and slick beneath the water.
Dear God, was this inescapable? She closed her eyes on the portentous thought.
He had surely set out to ruin her. But why? Did it even matter anymore? If he wished to force her hand into marriage, would that be such a bad thing? Mary shocked herself with the realization that she wanted him. It was a dangerous and ludicrous infatuation that would only lead to heartache. Still, she wondered if she would ever be able to bear the thought of kissing, or far worse, of wedding, anyone else.
But Sir Richard would never approve of him, and moreover, Hadley had spoken nothing of marriage—only of lust and desire. Was this entire outing only intended as an amusing interlude to him? Was she just a dalliance, a way to idle his time?
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