“Was that the worst of it?” she asked cautiously, mesmerized by his gentleness.
“Almost,” he reassured her. Removing his gloves, he leaned in again. This time, his eyes locked with hers and Alyssa almost dropped the reins of her mount. He was impossibly close, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to experience his kisses again.
“If you took the reins and held her still, I’m sure I could manage the rest myself,” she offered.
He shook his head. “Patience, my beauty.”
Her lips parted to chastise him for the ill-timed compliment, but his touch silenced her protest. He began unpinning her hair with gentle hands, untangling long tresses from the rough twigs, making her gasp at the sensation of his fingers brushing over her bare face and neck and working through the silken strands.
“Ouch,” she whispered, as one stubborn branch refused to relinquish its grip.
He lowered his hand and stroked her cheek, his fingers trailing down her jaw to her neck. His touch was pure sin. “Stay still.”
A command easier to give than to follow, Mr. Yates! Dratted man! He’s deliberately torturing me!
Only the snap of wood and the cadence of their breathing echoed in the grove as Leland freed her, teasing her with each restrained caress and stroke.
At last, her hair was completely undone, a golden cascade of rambunctious curls down her back. The effect was intoxicating. To have a man disarm her with such slow, tender precision—it was something she had never imagined. A lady would never allow such liberties. She felt naked and vulnerable with her hair down, hating the heat that flooded her cheeks, staining them a telltale pink.
“You…” Words abandoned her as she saw the flash of desire in his eyes.
In one fluid movement, he pulled her from her saddle onto his lap. She struggled against him in surprise, but he was much stronger than she. “You shouldn’t—”
His lips descended, following a sensual trail along one side of her face and down the column of her throat.
“Oh, my…” she murmered, gripping his coat lapels and reveling in his attentions and offering more of herself to him. The grove spun around as the world narrowed to hold only the two of them. With one of his hands entwined in her hair, he moved to take control. Her jacket buttons gave way, and his hand skimmed over her collarbones to graze the pearl buttons of her blouse—a whisper-light touch that explored the barriers between his skin and hers and sent bolts of heat down her spine to pool between her legs.
His lips abandoned the pulse at her throat and, at last, found her lips. This kiss had no tender start, but instead betrayed his hunger—and hers. Hard, demanding kisses enflamed her and Alyssa could only cling to him and savor the fiery-sweet taste of his mouth. Her lips felt swollen and soft against his, and she groaned as his tongue tasted each sensitive curve and pulse of hers. When his hand moved over the pert swell of her breast, his thumb teasing its peak through layers of silk, the coil of need within her tightened into a pleasure that was almost painful.
Oh, dear. A lady wouldn’t…Oh, my!But she couldn’t seem to dredge up even the faintest bit of resistance to his touch. Instead, she wanted the pearl buttons torn away and the heat of his hands on her. Her eyes fluttered open, astonished at her own desires.
He growled in response as she arched her back to instinctively beg for more. He pulled her closer and shifted back to settle her more tightly between his legs. “What a siren, you are…”
His words emboldened her and she daringly made her own tentative trail of kisses down his throat, to find the same sensitive spot on his throat and drive him on. Instinctively she grazed her teeth over the pulse, and was instantly rewarded as he tightened his hold, his hand moving against the buttons of her blouse. The smooth pearls gave way easily, and the ties of her chemise and corset yielded just as quickly.
The touch of his bare fingers against the ripe curve of her breast sent a shiver of raw need through her. His mouth caught hers again, drinking in her gasps and sighs as her nipple hardened against his touch, the circular teasing dance of his fingers matched by his tongue and sweeping her into a spiral of ecstasy. His mouth trailed away from her lips to sample the taut coral point, and Alyssa was sure that there was no sensation more wicked and sweet than the soft friction of his hot tongue against her swollen nipple.
This. This was beyond…anything…how in the world…Coherent thought eluded her, and Alyssa almost sobbed at the aching want that whipped through her. His hand left her back and traced the outline of her outer thigh through her riding skirt, and she trembled.If he meant to… she had no real idea where the dance was going but every nerve in her body seemed to thrill at this exploration. She wriggled tighter against his hard thighs, setting off another cascade of tension and heat. He slid her skirt up slowly, his fingers finding the firm warm flesh of her thigh above her stocking, shifting the ribbons to tease the skin just beyond his touch. Slowly his hand moved upward, and Alyssa wondered if a person could die from wicked rapture alone.
And then he abruptly stopped, his eyes wide as he raised his head.
“D-did I…hurt you?” she asked confused.
He shook his head and then smiled. “Hat pin.”
“Hat pin?”
He reached around his back and offered up her now slightly crumpled riding hat from where he had tucked it behind him. Their embrace had dislodged it, and he had suffered an ignoble poke in his backside.
“So much for trying to be a gentleman,” he said, shaking his head. Firmly but gently, he began to retie her undergarments, calmly restoring everything that he’d so feverishly undone.
It was all she could do to catch her breath as his fingers touched her bare skin. “I don’t know what to say.” She was sure that no etiquette book had ever touched on this particular situation. Her face burned with embarrassment at the liberties she’d allowed him—of the liberties she’d have begged him to take.
He was looking at her again with an intensity and hunger that made her tremble in his arms. “Let’s get you back to the road and safely home. You’ll have the ride to compose a good lecture to give me, and I promise I’ll absorb whatever punishments you see fit.”
She nodded, a mischievous smile giving her away. “A good plan.”
“For now, turn your face toward my shoulder. I’d hate to see it scratched.” Cradling her protectively, he led her mare back through the grove to the groomed path on which they’d been riding.
Alyssa was grateful for the reprieve, praying that the color in her cheeks would recede now that she wasn’t looking into his eyes. Once back on the lane, they dismounted.
She nervously finished buttoning her blouse at her throat, brushed at her skirt and closed her riding coat, wishing some of that lecture would compose itself.A lady would have come up with a scorching reprimand by now. Oh, dear. “Well, shall we head back?”
“Not just yet.” He reached in his pocket and held out the handful of hairpins he’d retrieved during her rescue. “You may want these first.”
She took them with a shaky laugh. “Ah, yes! Harder to explain than losing a carriage.”
“I would offer to help, but…” A lingering flash of desire in his eyes eloquently made his excuses. It definitely wasn’t wise to test their resolve by allowing him to touch her again.
“No,” she readily agreed. “I…I can manage. Just hold my bonnet for me, please.”
She had never before done the simple task while a man looked on. After their heated exchange, it seemed silly to ask him to look away while she arranged her hair. But the intimacy of the moment was unavoidable. Nervously, she tried to distract him from his open admiration of her efforts. “You have a twig in your hair, sir.”
He found it easily and pulled it roughly from a dark curl at the nape of his neck. “Thank you.”
She smiled, envious of his ease. “You…have quite a talent for rescuing me, Mr. Yates. I should thank you again, though I believe it is your turn to render payment.”
His l
ook was pure amazement. “Are you asking me for a kiss?”
“No!” She blushed, wishing she’d regained more of her scattered wits. “I was thinking you could…answer at least one or two questions about yourself. I’m willing…to risk boredom.”
He shook his head and then began to laugh. A true, hearty laugh that altered his countenance completely and made her heart soar. The serious Mr. Yates was anything but grim at the moment, and it pleased her to watch him try to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “How is it that I can never predict what you’re going to say or do, Miss Martin?”
She finished pinning a braid along the crown of her head, and arranged the rest of her curls as she replied cheerfully, “I’m not sure. I think I’m very predictable. I’m fairly sure it’s the rest of the world that is determined to remain indecipherable.”
“Well, one thing is certain.” He handed over her bonnet for the final touch. “It’s impossible to become bored in your presence, Miss Martin.”
Alyssa secured her bonnet with a shy smile.I could say the same for you, sir. Dratted man.
“You’re impossibly tall!” Violet squealed with delight upon her arrival later that afternoon, pulling Alyssa into a rib-crushing hug on the house’s front steps. “You swore you wouldn’t grow!”
“I was twelve,” Alyssa gasped, smiling over her cousin’s shoulder. “You cannot hope to hold me to that oath.”
They both laughed and Alyssa released her to take in Violet’s changed appearance as well. It had been years since they’d seen each other. Violet had always been more petite with a delicate exotic beauty that Alyssa had envied. Now it seemed that Cousin Violet in full bloom didn’t disappoint. Every shining brunette curl was in place, framing porcelain perfect features, and her brown eyes were as brilliant as Alyssa remembered.
She shook her head in astonishment, “Violet, instead of looking weary and wilted, you look as fresh as if you’d just taken a turn around the village.”
“Nonsense! You’re sweet to say such things.” Violet shrugged off the compliment, removed her bonnet and preceded Alyssa into the house. “My parents send their warmest regards and, of course, wanted me to express their regrets that they couldn’t partake of your father’s hospitality this Christmas.”
“We were so looking forward to their company.”
“Oh, please! They are as dear to me as anyone ever could be,” Violet cut her off with merry enthusiasm. “But trust me, between Mother’s smelling salts and Father’s propensity for shouting everything, since he won’t admit that he can’t hear well, they are an imposition extraordinaire!”
Alyssa kept from answering, not sure how to argue that she’d always loved her aunt’s and uncle’s quirks. Perhaps because they made her own quirks seem more normal.
Violet continued as they made their way to the guest room that had been prepared for her arrival. “I cannot wait to hear more about your time at school. Your letters were so entertaining, but I refuse to believe you shared all the best details!”
Alyssa couldn’t contradict her. She would never commit all her infamous mishaps to paper. “I shall make up a few to please you, then. But only if you tell me how you are enjoying being ‘out.’”
“Oh, it’s ever so much more fun!” They reached the room and Violet pulled her to a small settee for their tête-à-tête. “Just the excitement of your first dance is magic. And of course, the ability to engage in private conversation with unmarried men without fear of judgment.”
“Oh, yes,” Alyssa answered innocently. She was not unaware of the rules she’d broken with Mr. Yates. She’d just decided that the rules never seemed to apply to the odd circumstances that kept throwing her into his arms.
“You’ll see!” Violet assured her with the supreme confidence of a young woman with a full year’s experience of being out in society.
Alyssa tried to muster the required enthusiasm. “I can hardly wait.”
“You have nothing to worry about cousin,” Violet said, reaching over to pat her hand, as if in consolation. “You are not ugly after all, and once word of your fortune is known, you’ll have your choice of suitors.”
Alyssa shook her head and attempted a smile. Violet was never one to mince words. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Violet shrugged. “Tell me. Are there many guests? Do you expect more for the gathering on Christmas Eve?”
“A few more for the party. You’re the last of the houseguests to arrive, though it’s not a terribly full house. The Cunninghams have come, though their daughter Fern is staying in London with friends. Mrs. Wolfe—you might remember her from your last visit—has brought her entire pack of pugs. And…there is Mr. Yates.”
“Mr. Yates?”
“A business associate of my father’s,” Alyssa supplied, willing to allow Violet to make her own assumptions.
“Oh,” she said with a pout. “I hate to give offense, but I do wish my uncle would invite someone young and personable.”
Alyssa had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep a straight face. “Yes, well. His friends are his own, and nothing to do with us.”
The footmen arrived with Violet’s trunks and the maids began unpacking. Their privacy lost for the moment, Alyssa left her cousin to oversee the settling of her things and to allow her to bathe and change after her journey. Her conscience nibbled a bit at the deception regarding Mr. Yates, but there was nothing to be done now. Violet would see for herself how “young and personable” he was, and Alyssa wondered if she could plead ignorance—as if she’d never noticed how handsome he was.
Or as if I were hoping Violet wouldn’t.
Nonsense!Alyssa corrected herself, determined not to allow her good sense to abandon her completely. If the man was handsome, it was not a point that should concern her. Girls who were not officially out were, by rule, supposed to be happily ignorant of any and all characteristics that a man like Mr. Yates might possess.
And if Violet was in the more liberated position to make an inventory of his every delectable feature—it shouldn’t make a bit of a difference.
When Alyssa entered her own room, her eyes rested on the bound leather volume at her bedside. Lady Peabody mocked her silently, as if to note that out or not out, the dowager botanist hadn’t missed that for most of the previous night she’d just lain awake and uselessly tried not to think about Mr. Yates’s eyes.
She sighed again, and sank into a chair by the fire. There was no fighting the inevitable. Mr. Yates would meet her lovely cousin who never got stuck in carriage windows, trapped by trees or chased rabbits and that would be that. He would bestow his heart-stopping kisses on Violet, and there was nothing she could say.
At least if he is paying attention to Violet, he will be ignoring me, and maybe I can get a good night’s sleep—with or without dusty old Lady Peabody’s help.
The inevitable was longer in coming than Alyssa anticipated. Mr. Yates sent his regrets for dinner that evening, eating in his room and working on business correspondence. Alyssa expected to feel some relief, since she wasn’t sure she could look at the man without blushing like a fool.
The following day, Violet was a welcome distraction from Mrs. Wolfe and her pugs. The cousins escaped to the solarium amidst the potted palms and plants, where Violet could regale her younger friend with exciting stories of her first social season.
“The dancing is the best part,” Violet assured her. “I even wore out several dancing slippers, if you can imagine!”
“In one evening?” Alyssa asked, deliberately overplaying her ignorance in the hope that Violet would laugh and change the wretched subject.
The tactic failed.
“Over a few nights, silly! Not that they are made to last, mind you. There is something thrilling about sacrificing a fashionable and lovely scrap of silk and ribbons for the pleasure of the dancing.”
“Or is that so the shoe sellers can make more money?”
Violet gasped in shock. “Alyssa! You mustn’t say su
ch vulgar things! Commerce is hardly the subject of a lady’s conversation.”
“I fail to see how a practical grasp of the shoe trade is repulsive.” Alyssa bit her lower lip and decided that the point wasn’t worth the battle. “But I’m sure you’re right. I’ll try to keep your advice in mind.”
Violet’s expression softened and she took Alyssa’s hand. “You’ll be fine. Besides, you’re lucky. You could paint yourself blue and set fire to your hair and still manage to catch a husband.”
“And how would I be able to manage that?”
“Your dowry, silly!” Violet released her hand. “You’ll be forgiven anything.”
“How comforting.”If a discussion of commerce is vulgar, then how is the trade of my fortune and my future any less offensive?
“Oh, don’t be so dour. After all, you have many advantages that other girls would die for, and when it comes to marriage—”
“Ah, here you are, dearlings!” Mrs. Wolfe interrupted. “I told your father you would be as thick as thieves.”
“Forgive me for keeping her to myself, Mrs. Wolfe,” Violet said, undaunted by the intrusion. “We were making plans for the party Christmas eve!”
Alyssa’s squeak of shock at the lie was easily lost to Mrs. Wolfe’s louder endorsement. “How delightful! What sort of plans?”
Alyssa was ill prepared to respond. “I…umm…”So much for a clever improvisation.As the world’s worst liar, all she could do was hope that Violet would do better.
“An entertainment!”
“What kind of entertainment?” Mrs. Wolfe pressed, openly intrigued. “A game?”
“A little musicale.” Violet reached down to pat one of the pugs. “Alyssa has a lovely voice and we thought it would make a lovely surprise for her father.”
One of the pugs barked, and Mrs. Wolfe laughed at the canine’s endorsement. “Delightful! Well, if it is a secret, naturally, I shall say nothing. Come, Binkley, let us leave the ladies to their plans and schemes.”
Once Mrs. Wolfe was safely out of earshot, Alyssa couldn’t stop herself. “Why did you tell her that story? A musical performance? Are you serious?”
The School for Heiresses Page 30