by Heather Boyd
“Oh, Giles.”
His fingers grew wet as he parted her folds and traced to her source of greatest pleasure. Lilly jumped as he petted her nub and his cock swelled in anticipation.
Giles lifted his head. The cords of Lilly’s neck stood out as she flexed, panting, aroused beyond anything she’d ever known. So damn beautiful that Giles couldn’t bear to take his eyes from her flushed face. Slowing his fingers, he waited for Lilly to look at him. He could not bear for her to avoid his eyes. “Sweetheart?”
Lilly’s grey eyes drowned him, her breath panted across his lips. “Now I know why you like this.”
Giles swirled his fingers again and she gasped, hips rising into his touch. “Now you know.”
He would not take her virginity, but there were benefits to allowing him free play. Giles would see her climax and enjoy doing so. His fingers slipped from her folds and he grasped one thigh and draped it over his so she was wide open. She would not need to hold herself still, she would be comfortable. That was all Giles cared about.
He slid his hand down her thigh and covered her mound again, kissing her lips, while his fingers pressed and twirled. When her hips rose to meet his fingers again, he knew she would peak soon. She moaned and sobbed as the pinnacle neared.
“That’s it. Come for me, Lilly.” Giles rose over her possessively to watch her release that first time and didn’t care that he would not even receive pleasure himself. He had never cared so much about a woman’s happiness before. Pleasing Lilly was all that mattered tonight.
Eyes locked, he increased the friction of his fingers, spreading her wetness until she arched again, sobbing his name as the release hit her squarely. Thighs clenched tight around his hand as she ground her body against his fist.
For a small, frail woman, her contractions went on a lot longer than he had anticipated. With his hand buried as it was, he felt every ripple of pleasure that shook her. He felt awed and proud all at once. God, she was heaven, and he wondered how he had ever thought desire existed before today. Touching Lilly was pure pleasure.
Her thighs relaxed and he moved his fingers, only to find greater wetness than before. Lilly was dripping and he could not help but grind his cock against her thigh. Once, twice, then a long, protracted moan burst free as he came in his trousers from just that slight friction.
Lilly clutched his head tight against hers until he slumped to the mattress, breathing hard to recover. He hadn’t needed to come that much in forever. He couldn’t believe what he’d done.
He hadn’t soiled his garments since he was a young lad in short pants, spying on the village girls washing in the stream. But Lilly had the damnedest effect on him. One he’d never encountered before. All his carefully thought out notions of pleasure had just been thrown out the window.
“Are you all right?” Lilly asked.
He lifted his head and grinned down at her. The earth shifted again and he pressed his lips to Lilly’s to prevent some banal comment from spewing from his lips. Her lips clung, her fingers threading into his hair as he tucked her tight against his body.
The way she moved against him convinced him that given enough night hours, he could pleasure her again. But the night was passing. He had no idea of the time. They both needed to sleep and he needed to make an escape before dawn found him in a virgin’s bed.
Regretfully, Giles turned Lilly, tucked his arm under her head and stretched the linen and counterpane to cover them both. Lilly sighed, pressing her lips to his wrist. Setting him alight with her simple gesture. He inched his hips so they didn’t fit so snugly and pressed a kiss to her hair, waiting for his world to settle. “Time for sleep, little ghost.”
Lilly grumbled.
Capturing her hand, Giles threaded their fingers together and held them against her belly, savoring the companionable warmth between them. To his surprise, Lilly pushed his hand away and turned to face him. Laying her head on his arm, she placed her hand against his cheek. Lilly’s short nails scratched at his stubble once then grew still, breath turning even and deep.
Astounded by her sudden sleep, he listened to the sound of her breathing. He’d never remembered past lovers’ sleeping habits, but he would always remember this moment, sharing Lilly’s bed. A night beyond his expectations and an experience he wanted again. He only hoped that Lilly would say the same come morning.
Chapter Eighteen
APPARENTLY, LILLY COULD consider herself just as wanton as half of the women in London. That was her first thought upon waking. When she rolled over and found her room devoid of Giles’ warm body, sadness trickled through her. Of course, he would not stay. The man was built for dalliance and nothing further. But still, she missed him already.
Her second thought was less condemning and had more to do with the teasing strength of his fingers on her skin. Oh, the things that man could do with his hands. Giles could make any woman relax with him. Not that she had ever feared him exactly, but she had known just how impossible it would be to form a tendre for him and share his bed.
His skill at easing her injuries notwithstanding, he was wickedly insistent in his single-minded pursuit of pleasure. He made her throb. He made her want more. Lilly stretched. Crisp sheets tangled around her legs as she tried to hold onto the memory of Giles’ lips and fingers on her body.
Her third thought was to wonder if he would want to share her bed again. Now that he’d had his wicked way with her, would he lay beside her tonight if she asked?
Considering how focused and tender he had been, she hoped he would. He combined the best of his healing hands with scandalous touches that inflamed her senses. And he had also aroused himself.
To her shame, Lilly could take no credit for his pleasure. She had not known how to touch him. When he had groaned into her neck from the slight friction against her leg, she had been embarrassed that she had not shown him more attention.
Lilly would ask him what to do next time. If there was a next time. She bit her lip. Given what she knew now, she couldn’t blame him for liking intimate relations so much. Not that they’d had sex, but what they had shared had been intense. They had enjoyed great intimacy together.
Lilly pushed her arms beneath her and moved into a sitting position. Her body was still bare and her breasts rose high over the linens, surprising her with a thrill of cool air across her nipples. She had never slept naked before and as she wriggled against the thick, cotton sheets, she decided she liked it.
Giles slept naked.
She looked over the bed with a critical eye, but could not detect if he had slept here for long. A blush crept up over her cheeks. She’d sobbed Giles’ name when her passion peaked. Her world had gone dark and starry as his fingers pushed her over an edge she’d never expected to exist.
At the foot of the bed lay Lilly’s nightgown, ready to slip over her head for modesty’s sake. She reached for it, dragging the familiar material up the bed and then struggling into the loose garment. As she pulled her hair free and over her breast, she smiled.
Giles was so thoughtful, so determined to protect her reputation. He wouldn’t want the maids to suspect her of promiscuous behavior, although how they couldn’t know about the nightly massages escaped her.
Combing through the tangled mass of hair with her fingers in the hope of appearing more presentable, she wondered if Mrs. Osprey had any idea. Not once had she mentioned or looked at Lilly with anything less than kindness. If she learned Lilly and Giles were lovers, would she disapprove?
With a shrug, Lilly snuggled beneath the blankets again, quite prepared to lose herself in the memory of making love with Giles, but the door creaked open and a white-capped head squeezed through the gap. “Good morning, Miss Winter. I’m sorry if I’ve woken you too soon.”
Lilly stretched. “I was dozing. How are you today, Mrs. Osprey?”
The housekeeper advanced in her usual rush, flicked open the drapes, and jiggled the window to let in the fresh air of morning. “Oh, nothing to complain of.”
She checked the flowers, the hearth, and her night table, then fussed with the sheets around Lilly’s waist, tugging them up high. “Are you ready for your breakfast?”
“That would be lovely.”
Mrs. Osprey fluttered out the door but returned a short time later with a large, heavily laden tray. It might be her imagination, but the breakfast trays appeared to be getting fuller with every meal. Lilly picked her way through what she liked best, ignoring the thought that Giles monitored her eating habits. She had not meant to snap at him, but he was becoming a bit rude in his dealings on the subject of food. It was not as if he had any right to tell her what to do.
While Lilly finished her breakfast, Mrs. Osprey flittered in and out of the room, selecting clothing from Katarina’s bedchamber—dark blue muslin today–and organizing her bath. It was embarrassing just how much time Mrs. Osprey spent with her. Wouldn’t her duties as housekeeper be suffering?
Heavier treads signaled the arrival of the male servants with bath water. Snuggling under the linens, Lilly watched the fascinating interaction between Mrs. Osprey and the butler. Today, they both kept sneaking peeks at each other. Lilly hid her smile at how comical they appeared as one twisted away before the other caught them staring.
When Dithers was around, Mrs. Osprey became even ditherier. The absurdity was not lost on Lilly. As a result, Dithers took a firm hand with the staff—even though those matters were the housekeeper’s responsibility. When the bath was prepared to Dithers’ exacting standards, he bowed to her and excused himself, nodding to Mrs. Osprey as if reminding her of her task.
Usually the housekeeper ignored him, but today Mrs. Osprey blew out a heavy breath and dropped all pretence of forgetfulness. Puzzled, but unwilling to get involved, Lilly slid out of bed and hastened to bathe. Behind her, Mrs. Osprey stripped the bed in record time, wadded up the sheets, snatched her nightgown from the floor, then placed them at the door for laundering.
Lilly was surprised. They had only replaced the bedding with fresh sheets yesterday. They didn’t need to spoil her to this extent.
Mrs. Osprey helped her dress. The blue muslin wasn’t as pretty as yesterday’s gown, but at least it wasn’t another nightgown confining her to the house.
“There, all finished.” Mrs. Osprey stepped back and eyed her handiwork. Turning her head this way and that, Lilly admired the pretty arrangement of her hair against the darker toned gown. The contrast was striking. Mrs. Osprey had real talent.
“Thank you, Mrs. Osprey. You’ve spoiled me for my normal life.”
The housekeeper grinned. “Nonsense, my lamb, anyone who can make his lordship smile as you do deserves so much more than this.”
Blushing, Lilly grasped with a safer topic. “I did not think I would require clean linens as yet, Mrs. Osprey. I don’t wish to burden the servants with unnecessary tasks. Surely they could have waited another day.”
Mrs. Osprey frowned. “Ordinarily they could have, but the sheets are best dealt with directly. Now that we know your timing, we’ll be better prepared for next month. Perhaps you should rest indoors today. The earl’s mamma was always lying about at this time. Can’t say I blame her for taking the opportunity. Some women do take it harder than others, and Lady Daventry was a delicate sort like you, if you can remember.”
Lilly did not understand why Mrs. Osprey thought that she was any frailer today than yesterday or the day before that. She could admit that her long illness gave other people the impression that she was weak, but she knew herself to be improving a little more each day.
“I remember Lady Daventry. She was kind but frail, wasn’t she?” Lilly had always assumed that a strong wind could blow her over if she ever ventured out of doors, but she didn’t wish to speak ill of the dead.
“That she was, and a sweeter, kinder mistress you could never hope to find. You remind me of her.”
Lilly couldn’t hold back a smile. It was a greater compliment than Mrs. Osprey could know. “Mrs. Osprey, I wonder if you could tell me. When did Lady Daventry die? I don’t think I ever heard of it, and I am hesitant to ask the earl for fear of upsetting him.”
Mrs. Osprey frowned. “That’s probably for the best. Her death hit him hard. It was after your accident, but less than a year after her husband passed. Lord Daventry, the elder, took a fall from his horse and died a week or so later from a nasty infection. Perhaps two years after your accident.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that either.”
“The mistress did not take his death well and one way or another managed to follow him not long after. The children were devastated. His lordship tried so hard to cheer his mother, but she slipped away from him.” Mrs. Osprey tucked a stray wisp of Lilly’s hair behind her ear. “’Tis why the master banned laudanum from the manor. He thinks she doctored herself to death. I expect that’s why he’s so concerned about you. You are both fragile women.”
Mrs. Osprey bobbed her head and hurried off with the linens, leaving Lilly with her heart pounding. Mrs. Osprey’s news explained quite a bit about Giles’ behavior.
Thirty minutes later, Lilly shook and huddled on the corner of the chaise. She had just used the chamber pot, and found to her shock that she was bleeding.
Lilly was frightened. Terrified. If this was what happened after the pleasure of Giles’ touch, she was appalled. She had no idea that the pleasures of the body could result in such an injury. Would she die now that she had finally managed to thwart all the nasty voices and begun to live again?
Lilly just did not know how long it would take, so she curled up on her side and prayed. She prayed to die quickly.
~ * ~
“So this is where you hide each summer.”
Giles looked up and found Lord Carrington hovering at his door. Giles tossed his cravat at his valet and crossed the room. “Carrington, when the devil did you get here? I didn’t hear the carriage.” He pulled the younger man into a rough hug.
“I rode here this morning from the village. My carriage broke down late last night, so I foolishly thought to borrow a nag from the innkeeper rather than wait.”
“Good God and you rode it. Have you no sense?”
“Apparently not.”
Giles turned back to his valet and let the man fuss with his attire. “Glad to see you survived. That horse, if it’s the one I fear, has thrown more able horsemen inside a mile of the village than I can count.”
“That does explain why the innkeeper didn’t seem too concerned about when the beast would return. He said he’d be seeing it soon. The foolish thing shied at every startled bird or rabbit.” Carrington leaned against the wall. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Quite all right. I’m happy to offer a brief reprieve from your family. I’m sure your mother’s been watching every wedding for the last few years and taking notes.”
“Too true, too true. She has a book.” Carrington blew out a harsh breath. “Why the hell did I decide to marry?”
Giles held the younger man’s gaze, surprised he’d uttered the question Giles had been trying to keep from asking for the past few months. “From what I understand, you had little enough choice but to do so or risk the loss of your honor.”
Carrington scrubbed his hand through his hair. When he started pacing, the usual sign the viscount was disturbed, Giles decided not to pursue the discussion. Talking wouldn’t help. “I was about to go down for breakfast. Have you eaten?”
Carrington stopped. “No.” He turned and met Giles’ gaze. “You know, I’m surprised you’re not possessed of a fuller figure. Is your answer for every crisis eating?”
“You forget I live an active life. A man must eat to feed his passions.”
Carrington burst out laughing, and Giles was happy his comment had distracted the younger man from his troubles.
“Active is one way to describe your life. But with all the rest you supposedly get when in Northhamptonshire I would have thought you’d not continue to eat quite so well.” Carrington grinned. “In fact, I must
compliment you. You appear in remarkably better spirits for a man whose self-imposed celibacy has become a well-known annual event. I’d say you were happy.”
Giles laid his hand on the doorknob. Was the bubbling feeling of contentment he’d woken with so transparent to others? It couldn’t be. “Carrington, lets go down to breakfast.”
He left the room and, after a moment, heard Carrington’s rushed footsteps following. For a change, the younger man held his tongue until they were left alone in the breakfast room. But Carrington’s gaze pinned him in place. “Have you a woman here?”
Giles breathed deep. Here was his moment to inform Carrington of Lilly’s un-chaperoned presence, yet he hesitated. After last night’s passionate encounter, he didn’t know how to describe what existed between him and Lilly. Lovers sounded far too coarse.
“You have, haven’t you?” Carrington stood. “I’ll head back to London. You should have mentioned you planned to have company you would prefer Lady Montgomery not to hear about. She sent her regards by the way.”
“You mean she tried to seduce you?” Sabine had shown her leg to more than one of his close friends and, to her mortification, she’d been rebuffed every time.
“I did not take up her generous offer. You’ve known all along how things stand with me.”
Giles sighed and set aside his napkin. “That I do. How is Aggie bearing up?”
Carrington paced again. “I don’t know. She won’t speak to me.”
“Can you blame her? What woman in her right mind could be happy the man she loves is to marry another?”
Carrington threw his lanky body into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. “I know. I wasn’t paying enough attention.”
Giles watched him, pitying the circumstances that had changed Carrington’s charmed existence. His was a situation most men feared. “My betrothed is here.”