“As far as mistakes go,” she said quietly, “I do believe it’s one of the better ones I’ve made.”
Chuckling low, he kissed the top of her head, loving the way her hair fanned out over the pillow, across his chest.
“I used to feel sorry for prostitutes but if they experience that—”
“I doubt they seldom do. Talk to Jewel. She’ll tell you honestly.”
“Do mistresses, do you think?”
“Depends on the selfishness of her lover, I should imagine.” He skimmed his fingers up and down her arm. He didn’t want to think about her taking a lover and yet the possibility of it hung heavy over his heart.
She began rubbing her instep over his calf, up, down, around. “I lied. My fire didn’t go out.”
“I know. I saw the firelight dancing over the wall.” Against his chest, he felt her smile form, and somehow it seemed as intimate as everything else they’d done.
“Do you think your sister was encouraging us to do this by putting us in chambers with a door between?”
“Gillie isn’t usually duplicitous, but there’s an entire other wing she could have put me in.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“This wasn’t a lesson, was it?”
He brought her hand up, whispered, “No,” against her knuckles. Kissed them.
“Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know.” It was humbling to realize he was not as strong-willed as he’d always thought himself to be, at least not where she was concerned. “Not a single night has passed that I haven’t wanted to follow you into your bedchamber.”
“Not a single night has passed that I haven’t wanted you to.”
He groaned low. “Thea—”
Rising up onto her elbows, she met and held his gaze. “You’re not taking advantage if it’s what I want. If we can pleasure each other without my losing my virginity, where’s the harm?”
Could he resist the temptation of possessing her fully? She knew not what she asked of him. But neither could he turn away the pleasure of having her naked in his arms. “You have to promise you won’t open your door to me unless it is what you want.”
“I promise.”
Cupping her head, he settled her back into the crook of his shoulder. Silence eased in between them. He didn’t mind it. It contained a comfortableness. He could hear her breathing, and that sound he especially liked.
“I probably shouldn’t linger much longer,” she said. “The maids will be coming in soon to relight the fires.”
On the hearth here only embers remained, dying out one by one. “I didn’t realize they did that. I’ve never stayed overnight in a noble’s house before.”
He’d visited his sisters several times in their grand residences—was pleased that they had such fine living accommodations—but had never seen any reason not to return to his own place at the end of the visit. While he had servants at his residence, they saw to the needs of the women more than his. They certainly didn’t go about lighting any fire he might want.
“I assumed as much when you offered to stir my fire. You should have said, ‘I’ll ring for a servant.’”
“Why would I do that when I can see to the matter myself?”
“Because that’s the way it’s done.”
Quickly, he rolled over onto her. She gave a little squeak, slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as they took him in. He had a clear view of her face because he’d hemmed her in between his arms and was resting on his elbows. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed the way I stirred your fire. Shall I stir it once more before you take your leave?”
Chapter 22
Althea feared—as she sat beside Benedict on the sofa in the parlor while gifts were being exchanged—that anyone looking at her would be able to discern the wicked things she’d gotten up to during the night.
Before she’d left him, he had indeed stirred her fire and she had stirred his, at the same time, because he’d used his fingers instead of his tongue. Each method had its own advantages, and whenever she thought about him, warmth flushed her cheeks, and she was relatively certain they were as red as if she’d just come in out of the snow.
The babes were too young to really appreciate that they were being given a gift. Robin was striving to teach his wriggling pup to sit, but the rambunctious thing was more interested in exploring his new environs. After a rather spirited discussion in which everyone contributed names, Robin had decided to name the spaniel “Lucky” after declaring “the luckiest thing in the world is finding a home with the Trewloves.”
She was glad she’d brought gifts for the Trewloves because they were giving her things. She’d received a fine bottle of sherry from Thorne and Gillie, an ivory fan from Mick and Aslyn, hair ribbons from Finn and Lavinia, a knitted shawl from Mrs. Trewlove, and a rare first edition copy of A Christmas Carol signed by Charles Dickens from Fancy and Rosemont.
“Happy Christmas,” Aiden said, holding out both hands upon which rested two small boxes.
She took the one nearest to her while Benedict took the other. Usually after handing someone a gift the person moved on, but Aiden stood there rocking back and forth on his heels.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch us?” Benedict asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
While Benedict glared at Aiden, she opened her box. Her breath caught. Gingerly, she took out the miniature portrait of Benedict. It was done in oils, had an ethereal quality to it as though she was looking at it through angel wings. She lifted her gaze to Aiden. “Did you do this?”
“I did.”
“You’re so talented.”
“Do you like the one I did of you?”
“Of me?”
He tipped his head toward Benedict. When she glanced over at him, it was to see him studying a miniature resting in the palm of his hand. A perfect likeness of her.
“How did you manage that? From memory?”
“I sketched you while watching you best Chadbourne.”
“Why?”
“Thought I’d be seeing you again, and might have a need for it.”
Only he hadn’t given it to her; he’d given it to Benedict. “Did we take the wrong boxes?”
He gave her a warm smile. “No.” He walked off.
“I don’t know why Aiden thought you’d want a portrait of me,” Benedict said, a bit of irritation lacing his voice. “We can exchange if you like.”
She studied him, the seriousness in his dark eyes. The shadow of doubt flickered. “Thank you, but I’d rather keep this one.”
And with her winnings, she was going to purchase a locket in which to keep it.
He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until she gave him the answer he’d been wanting to hear. Not that he thought she was keeping his miniature for any sentimental reason, but he didn’t want to give up hers. If he was very careful with it, he could trim enough off so he could insert it inside the cover of his timepiece and then he’d always be carrying it around. Whenever he checked the time, he would see her face.
Although he was a bit irritated with Aiden for too closely reading his feelings where she was concerned.
“I have something for you,” she said. Gingerly, as though it was the most precious thing in the world and should be pampered, she placed the box in her reticule and removed a stack of . . . something. She extended one toward him.
It was a long, narrow strip of light blue linen upon which she’d embroidered in red his name and a ship with sails capturing the wind.
“You use it to mark your place in a book. I made one for each of your family members.”
“I’m touched, Thea, that you went to so much bother. They will be as well.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, and he wondered if they’d been the same hue when he’d been nestled between her thighs. So much he didn’t know for certain, so much he wished he did. A room lost to shadows lacked color.
After he nodded, he watched as she first approached his mum, and he saw the delight illuminate his mum’s face. It seemed the perfect way to honor their love of reading.
Aiden was suddenly crouching before him. “I forgot to mention . . . you might let Gillie know there may be a mouse in the room in which you were sleeping. I heard a squeak coming from it near dawn.”
He clamped down on his back teeth. “No need to bother Gillie with it. I took care of it myself.”
Aiden grinned an all-too-knowing grin. “I’m sure you did.”
“Say another word and you’ll feel the weight of my fist.”
“I like her.”
He sighed heavily. His brother couldn’t not say another word but at least he’d chosen words that lessened Beast’s irritation with him. “She has plans, Aiden. They don’t include me. She’ll only be about for a little while longer.”
Aiden twisted around on the balls of his feet and his gaze swept over the room. “I’m sorry to hear that. You seemed well matched.”
“As though you know what constitutes well matched.”
Once again Aiden was facing him. “Not being able to take your eyes off her for one thing. Spending the night in a grand residence when you hate grand residences. To arrange for her to give an arse a drubbing.”
“Originally, I was going to do the drubbing.”
“But you gave up the satisfaction you’d feel so she could have it.”
“I remember a time when you didn’t spout such wisdom.”
“Love changes a man.” Putting his hands on his knees, he straightened. “The snow didn’t fall as thickly as we thought it might. Traveling might be slow going but not treacherous. Lena and I will be heading off soon to spend the remainder of the day with her family. Take care of the little mouse.”
As his brother strode away, Beast wasn’t certain he knew how to take care of Thea, how to determine exactly what she needed to be happy.
She was kneeling beside Robin, talking with him, petting Lucky. He wondered if she’d ever had a dog. So many things about her that he didn’t know.
A clapping drew his attention to Fancy, who was standing in the center of the room with her husband. “We wanted to be last, after everyone else had given out their gifts. Our gift requires a bit of patience on your part—and ours—as it won’t arrive for several more months.”
Rosemont threaded their fingers together and brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss.
“We’re going to give you a new person to love,” Fancy announced.
Cheers followed, with the ladies rushing to surround Fancy, and the gents shaking Rosemont’s hand as though he’d done something truly miraculous when all he’d done was make love to his wife.
“That’s a wonderful gift, isn’t it?”
He glanced up at Thea beaming down at him. Time spent with her was turning out to be a wonderful gift. He rose to his feet. “I have something for you.”
Her smile softened. Damn it all. He’d spent hours striving to determine what to get her. Something meaningful but not too personal. Something that would be appropriate for her to accept. “It’s a silly thing, really.”
She waited expectantly. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the small box and handed it to her.
Gingerly, she removed the lid. “A match safe. Very much like yours.”
Except hers had roses circling her name etched in the silver.
“No matter how dark things get, you’ll always have light.”
A fine sheen of dampness was in her eyes when she lifted them to him. “I’ll always treasure it.”
He would always treasure his memories of her.
Chapter 23
The winds of change did not blow in gently. Sitting in the library, in a reflective mood, Althea was amazed by the difference three weeks could make in a life. She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, at twenty-four her life had changed overnight. She’d felt powerless, like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind that had no say in the direction it traveled or where it eventually landed.
But now she was in control, and as other lives began to take different shapes, she began to carefully consider and mold hers into what she wanted, discovering she wanted something very different than what she’d originally thought she wanted when Benedict had first come into her life.
Although it wasn’t only him. It was everything happening around her that was causing her to look at things slightly differently. Nothing stayed as it was. Which was clearly evident as she occasionally sipped her sherry.
On Boxing Day, the ladies had gone to the Cerberus Club, where they’d discovered that Pearl and Ruby were quite skillful at dealing cards. They’d left the establishment with not only a substantial amount of winnings but an offer of employment as well, which they each accepted.
Shortly after one of Benedict’s ships arrived at port, one of the shipmates had shown up at the residence and declared his love for Flora. Apparently, they had been seeing each other on the sly for quite some time, and the tendre he’d developed for her had tormented him while he’d been away, and he could no longer bear to be without her. They were married within the week.
Lily became a companion to Captain Ferguson’s wife, to ease her loneliness when he was at sea.
Hester had stopped entertaining gentlemen because a lady’s maid didn’t “do that sort of thing,” and she was now tending to Althea’s needs exclusively and being paid handsomely for her services.
A brothel with only one lady, Lottie, seeing to gentlemen, was no brothel at all. The decision was made to begin converting the building with its many rooms into a boardinghouse.
Lottie oversaw the conversion that began the first week in January. All the risqué paintings and statuettes were carted away. Walls were redone, draperies replaced. Althea fully expected the former doxy would hire out her services to decorate the homes of those coming into wealth—once she was finished with the current project.
The challenge was alerting the clients. Jewel greeted the men when they arrived, poured them a glass of scotch, and explained that the purpose of the establishment would be changing. Lottie took her favorites to her bed for one last hurrah. Those she didn’t know or didn’t favor, she blew a goodbye kiss.
Now, a couple of weeks later, they were seldom disturbed during the evening hours when they were all sitting in the library reading.
Althea continued to teach Lottie and Hester, to give them more refinement. But she couldn’t teach them forever. Soon she was going to have to determine a path for herself.
Althea missed all the nights when it had been only she and Benedict, when they’d been able to share personal stories, hurts, aches, and joys. The tulip glass of sherry still waited for her on the table. They still sat across from each other. No one else ever sought to claim those chairs as though they had been designed and constructed to hold only the two of them.
But with others in the room, the atmosphere had changed, the way the air did when a storm was threatening. Pages in books crackled as they were turned, sighs sounded, clothing rustled with the shifting of a backside, a stretching of shoulders, the bending of a neck.
At ten they would bid each other good-night with a punctuality that had not existed when she would become lost in stories Benedict shared or he would ask questions of her, when time held no sway over them.
After Hester assisted her in readying for bed and sought out her own slumber, after the building itself had settled in and gone quiet, she would sit on the bed with the counterpane folded back and wait. Wait for the quiet knock that invariably came.
She would open the door, welcome him in, and it was those moments she’d begun to live for.
She watched him now as he removed the timepiece from his waistcoat pocket and glanced at the time—as though the watch was more accurate than the clock ticking away on the mantelpiece. “Is that the one?” she asked quietly, knowing he’d need no further identifiers, not ce
rtain why she’d not thought to ask him before.
He leaned forward to show it to her nestled against his palm. She inclined toward him to see it better. A stag was intricately carved on the cover. “Lessened my guilt,” he said, his voice low, the words meant for only her, “because it had no coat of arms or inscription to indicate it had any sentimental value. Just something a wealthy bloke purchased so he’d always know the time.”
She almost asked if he’d be passing it on to his firstborn son, but that would mean shining a light on a future they both seemed reticent to discuss.
Every night he brought her pleasure—sometimes in a different way, sometimes in a familiar way, but never in a way that completely claimed her as his, that changed the status of her virginity. Often it felt as though her body was screaming for him to take her fully, to plunge into her, to ride her. It was an almost animalistic need.
She thought there were times when he was in need as well because he would utter guttural groans that echoed around them as though he was in pain. Even though he’d taught her how to bring him pleasure, she often felt bereft afterward, as though it wasn’t enough for either of them.
“I probably give it more credit than it deserves in an attempt to justify my actions, but it changed the course of my life.”
As he held her gaze, she thought perhaps he was referring to more than the watch, was applying the same influence to her. What she did know for certain was that he had changed the course of her life. That she seldom thought about returning to Society, that she no longer was certain that if she did, she would find that for which she’d been searching.
She’d begun to believe that what she’d been searching for was right here. Within the walls of this residence with him.
“Look at that,” Jewel said, “it’s past time for us all to be abed. You’re falling down on the job, Beast.”
Althea glanced at the mantel clock. Two minutes past the hour. It made her smile to have a reminder of the many nights when they’d looked at neither watch nor clock, so lost in each other they’d become.
Beauty Tempts the Beast Page 24