by Cheryl Holt
"Nothing," he responded firmly, the simple word making her yearn for the necessary bravado to look him in the eye, but she honestly could not bear it. "I gave you my vow that our meeting would remain private, and so it shall."
"Then why ..." Her question trailed off.
"Because I am a cautious man who likes to establish all the facts before making a decision, and after uncovering your prominent rank I have spent many agonizing hours trying to figure out the actual purpose behind your request. I must confess that your intention eludes me." He took another sip of the brandy. "So tell me, Lady Abigail, what is the true reason you have asked me here?"
"It doesn't matter now." She rose on unsteady legs. "I shall take my leave, and I hope—actually, I beg of you— that if you ever encounter me again, you will have the decency to pretend we have never met."
In a quick, graceful move, rather like an advancing predator, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way to the
30 Cheryl Holt
door. "Has your thirst for carnal advice suddenly disappeared?"
"I find that it has," she admitted. "Now, if you will excuse me. . ." She tried to slide around him, but he shifted with her, and she couldn't pass.
"I do not excuse you," he asserted. "I am perfectly willing to instruct you. All you need do is answer my question: What is the reasoning behind your inquiry?"
He inappropriately rested a hand on her waist, and she recoiled from the heat of his unexpected touch. Her skittishness caused him to chuckle, which made her furious. More forcefully, she repeated, "It doesn't matter now."
"It does to me."
The solemnity of his statement provided her with the strength she needed to meet his gaze. "Why would it?"
"Discovering your elevated status has only served to increase my sense of how important this quest is to you. That a woman in your position would seek out a man like me ... that you would ask me for sexual counsel. . . Your behavior shows me that you are serious and resolute and in need of my help. I am, therefore, glad to give it to you. But you must answer my question."
She hesitated, not certain what to do. He seemed sincere. What could it hurt to confide in him? As he had previously pointed out, if they commenced down this road, there would be no secrets between them. Surely she could divulge a bit of the truth.
Utterly perplexed, she sighed. "Oh, I don't know what's best."
Appreciating the depth of her confusion, he leaned down to the folder he'd laid on the table when he first entered. He ran his hand over the soft cover, stroking it as one might lovingly pet a favorite animal. "I am ready to begin your first lesson," he said. "Surely that's what you still want, what brought you here." His fingers were hypnotic, massaging the leather. "Share your rationale with me, and the knowledge shall be yours."
Because he would not let her reach the door, she turned
Love Lessons 31
the other way, walking to the window and looking out at the gray day, the busy street. The glass felt cool against her palm as she mulled her situation.
What could it hurt? The question played over and over in her mind. She'd come this far. What could it hurt?
'Tell me," he coaxed from across the room. "I will not betray your trust. I swear it on my mother's life."
The very idea, that he would invoke his mother during this debacle, sent her defenses crumbling. Apparently he had a different view of his mother's character than that shared by the rest of the world, making his pledge sound dramatic and unquestionable. She couldn't discredit it. Besides, she rationalized, the damage was done. If he wished to blackmail her in some fashion, he already had the details with which to ruin her life. She had to rely on him. What other choice was there?
"You are correct," she said, still staring outside, "that my sister, Caroline, is in the City for her come-out. And yes, I fully expect that she will have a grand debut and that we will find her a wonderful husband. That is why I have come to you."
"Because she is marrying?"
"Because I am her sister, but also her friend." Gathering all her courage, she faced him. "She looks to me for guidance in this matter of selecting a husband, and already she has been asking me questions."
"About what?" he prodded gently.
"About men and their wives. What they do when they are alone together. How it will be." He accepted her explanation so calmly and readily that she was greatly encouraged. "I find myself completely in the dark about how to advise her."
"No one has taken the time to enlighten you?"
"I suppose I could tell her what my mother told me." She blushed bright red, which she was quite certain was going to be her perpetual state while she was in his company.
"And what is that?"
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She couldn't believe that she was about to address such an indiscreet topic, but on observing nothing but curiosity and understanding in his eyes, she pressed ahead. "Mother said that my husband would inflict himself upon me in a foul and disgusting manner."
"Oh, for pity's sake—" He bit off a curse.
"She explained that my wifely experience would be painful and humiliating, but that it was my duty to suffer through any indignity to which my spouse would like to subject me. Let's see ... what else?" She tapped a finger against her lip, remembering every detail of that horrid conversation. "Oh, yes ... that his revolting attentions would occur with regular frequency, and I would need to mentally compose myself during the months preceding my marriage so that T did not overly embarrass myself—or him—on my wedding night."
He refilled his glass, silently pondering her astonishing statement, eventually shaking his head in derision. "I never cease to be amazed by the women of your station, Lady Abigail."
"Neither do I, Mr. Stevens."
They shared a keen look that broke the tension. Tentatively, she stepped toward the couch and balanced herself on the seat, taking overly long in adjusting her skirts. "Recently, a friend of Caroline's was married," she stated. "She's a year older than my sister and made her debut last Season, but apparently she was totally unprepared for what her marital duties would entail. Being unwed ourselves, we were not allowed to visit with her, but rumor has it that she was so stunned by what happened on her wedding night that she has been under a physician's care ever since. She has retired to the country."
"Yes, I had heard the same rumor."
"Is there no sordid transpiration about which you don't know?" she asked, smiling.
"I make it my business to be aware of the affairs of my customers," he replied, shrugging.
"I can see where that might be helpful to a man in your
Lovf. Lessons 33
position." She fiddled with her skirts, once again letting the silence linger on, until she mastered the daring to confess her greatest wish. "I want Caroline to find joy, Mr. Stevens." She let her gaze settle on his astute, sapphire eyes, needing him to understand how vital was her objective. "My sister is a wonderful girl, and she should marry for love, and be happy and fulfilled through her choice of a spouse. When she comes to me with questions, I pray that I will be able to give her the proper answers, and the tools with which to flourish at the more private side of her wedded condition."
"I think you are being very wise."
"You do?" She was pleased and startled.
"Yes."
She was so elated to have his approval that she felt as if all her bones had suddenly turned liquid. "Do you think it is possible for a woman like Caroline to enjoy what will unfold in her marriage bed?"
"I'm certain of it."
"I had always suspected as much"—she nearly slid to the floor, her relief was so tremendous—"despite what I have heard over the years. Will you teach me the details so I may share the information with her when the time is right?"
"Of course, I will," he responded without equivocation, "but upon one condition."
Her heart sank. Would he now speak of blackmail? Of terms? "What is it?"
"T will go to g
reat lengths to ensure no one discovers that we have met. However"—he sipped his drink pensively—"should our liaison be exposed, it will cause quite a scandal."
"I'm aware of that fact."
"If the worst should happen, I will make no move to save your reputation. I will fight no duels in your honor. I will not marry you. I will do nothing."
"I understand." She nodded firmly. "I am a woman full
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grown. As this has all been at my instigation, I would expect no reparations from you."
"Then we are agreed?"
"We are agreed," she repeated, standing, and he towered over her so closely that she could have reached out and laid her palms on his broad chest. She liked having him here, liked being shamefully alone with him, liked smelling him and seeing the way he caressed her with his eyes. They roved brazenly, across her face, her breasts, her stomach. She should have been uneasy with his bold regard, but she wasn't. There was approval in his assessment that made her feel feminine and beautiful.
"Do you own this house?" he asked.
"No. I have only let it so we would have a location to carry out our discussions."
"How long is your lease?"
"Six months."
His brow rose, and he laughed, a full, rich sound that made her pulse accelerate. "Were you anticipating need of protracted tutoring, or were you thinking you might prove a slow pupil?"
"It was the shortest lease I could negotiate." She smiled in return, being forward and flirtatious. In his company, new behaviors were popping up every second!
A dimple creased his cheek, making him look like the devil himself come to call. "All right, then. I propose that we meet twice a week. Monday and Thursday afternoons. For the next month."
"Eight times." She sighed, thinking that eight times was not very many! There was definitely a part of her character she had never recognized before, because she craved this bit of stealthy adventure, this notorious secret to keep between the two of them. Mostly she relished being so improperly sequestered with him, but despite what she had done so far, it went against her nature to act immodestly, so she couldn't propose a longer tryst.
"Eight times will be fine," she concluded.
Love Lessons 35
"If we decide that's too few, you'll still have this place. We can extend our appointments."
She couldn't believe her surge of excitement: a drowning woman thrown a rope! "I would like that," she admitted, pretending a calm she hardly felt.
"Along the way, should you need to cancel, just send a note 'round to my office."
"And if you should need to cancel," she echoed, "I would prefer that you not contact me. I will simply come here to learn that you have not arrived."
"As you wish."
" ‘Tis safer. For both of us."
"Yes, it is," he couldn't help but acknowledge. "Well, then ... are you ready to begin?"
Her heart pounding, her skin heating, she squirmed with anticipation. "Yes, I'm ready."
In all actuality, she felt as if she'd been ready her entire life.
CHAPTER
THREE
"Do you have any idea of what occurs between a man and a woman when they are alone together?" James stood next to the sideboard, eyeing her where she sat on the short sofa.
"Not really," Lady Abigail answered honestly. "I know they lie down in the same bed, and somehow babies are magically created." She shifted uncomfortably. "However, I've always suspected that there was a little more to it than that.”
He chuckled, asking, "Have you ever seen a naked man?"
"Of course not!" she maintained vehemently. "When would I have?"
"How about a painting? Perhaps a statue." She shook her head. "Maybe one of your brothers when they were bathed as children?"
"I was never allowed to watch or help. It simply wasn't done."
James crossed the room and settled himself next to her, not touching but nonetheless feeling the caress of her all the way down his body. Her unique smell filled the space around him, and it flowed over him like a carnal cloud, stimulating his senses.
In profile, her face was perfectly assembled. The high, smooth brow, the long lashes, the adorable nose, the full lips. Combined with the swell of her breast, the tuck of her waist, the flair of her hip, she was an outrageously beautiful female who had tickled his fancy on more than one occasion during the past few days and nights.
Remarkably, he'd suffered numerous moments of physical and emotional turmoil as he'd pondered her request, where their assignations could lead, what her acquiescence would mean. Especially after Michael had provided the in-
Love Lessons 37
formation regarding her lofty station, he had been unable to keep her far from his thoughts. Even his dreams had been disordered by her, and upon rising, his tangled sheets were proof of how he'd tossed and turned, fantasizing about her both consciously and unconsciously.
As he'd grasped when they first met, aiding the woman presented numerous erotic possibilities—none of which he had the least interest in resisting. He'd always been called a bastard, for reasons having nothing to do with his birth, and in light of his plans where she was concerned, many would likely consider his base character to be showing its true form. But he didn't care.
He wanted her. It was as simple as that. And he intended to have her—eventually.
From the start, he'd been devastatingly attracted to her. She stroked his male temperament in a fashion that had only happened previously on the rarest occasions. He was a man of vast experience with women, possessed of a strong sexual drive, and he seldom declined what was offered, so he understood well what was occurring whenever he drew near to Abigail Weston.
They were intimately compatible in a manner he could not deny. Whether she gave off a specific scent, a vibration, a chemistry, he didn't know, but he was aware of her on a plane that was different from the other females who orbited his universe, and he was glad. For so long, he'd been searching for a diversion from the lackluster carnal encounters in which he regularly engaged. The lovers with whom he consorted were always possessed of great skill. They could and would do die most flagrant, wanton, even perverse tbings in their attempts to please him, but, quite simply put, he was bored with all of them.
Discontented, unhappy in his personal affairs, he was perpetually seeking the type of hot desire that had come so easily when he was young and sexual congress was still so new. Widiout exception, each moment of each encounter had been breathtaking. He wanted to discover the path back to those heady times, and he couldn't prevent himself from
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hoping that perhaps he'd found it in the slender blond sitting next to him. Everything about her aroused him.
Even now, just from being near her, his trousers were tight, his loins uncomfortable, and the two of them had yet to commence. He simply couldn't quit thinking about her and what he would like to do with her, and he didn't intend to stop himself from enjoying any pleasures he might ultimately encounter. Of course, she didn't realize his plan; she thought she was here to learn the variations of marital intercourse so she could interpret them for her younger sister.
But James understood more about women than any other subject, and he appreciated where their innocent talking would lead. She was an untried, twenty-five-year-old virgin, her body primed and ready for a sexual upheaval. He, with great delight, was prepared to make sure she experienced one.
From the straightening of her spine, and the nervous opening and closing of her fists, he could tell he disturbed her. These were very good signs of the sensual future they would inevitably share.
"You've never seen a naked man?" he asked again. "Not even when you were engaged?"
"Mercy, no!" she asserted, blushing delightfully. "How could you imagine such an occurrence would have happened?"
"Many betrothed couples decide they cannot wait for their wedding night."
"Not me. And certainly not my fiancé!" She dared
a sideways glance, looking at him through veiled lashes. "What kind of woman must you believe me to be?"
"I think you are the finest lady." he responded truthfully, while contemplating how dreadfully pretty she was up close. All smooth skin, moist lips, and pink cheeks. "I make no judgments through my questions. I only wish to determine where we should begin, and I had wondered if perhaps you and your fiancé . .."
Love Lessons 39
"No." She laughed softly. "I hardly knew him, and I was never alone with him."
"Very well," he said, intrigued by the sheltered life she'd led. She was five years younger than himself, yet in many ways innocent as a child. Her upbringing had been so contrary to his own. Just by the fact that his mother was an actress, he'd been raised around theater people and other artists, so he'd nearly always associated with women who were cognizant of the facts of life from an early age. With the exception of his wife, his lovers had always been adept, uninhibited women.
Her naiveté captivated him; it thrilled him, as well. He relished the chance to act as her tutor. What sort of willing pupil might she eventually turn out to be?
"Let us start," he said, "by my explaining the basics. We will expand from there."
"That sounds like a good idea."
One corner of her lovely mouth lifted in a tentative smile, making her appear as if she couldn't quite decide if she wanted to hear what he had to say or not. Despite her insistence that she was ready to learn all, she was about to be tremendously shocked—perhaps even alarmed—by what he would impart.
"This will be difficult for you. We are going to discuss things you've never imagined, and we will speak of body parts and bodily functions. I don't want you to feel overly embarrassed or shamed about the topics we will mention. Please ask me any questions that come to mind. Can you do that? Can you ask me questions?"
"I think so," she murmured quietly. " 'Tis very easy to talk with you."
"Good. I promise that I will do my best to respond openly and honestly." She nodded hesitantly, accepting his gesture, and he continued. "A man and a woman are created differently," he said. "In their private parts between their legs."