"How is writing to your mother going to prevent people from talking about what goes on here, between us?" Elise asked before pushing her face into Spencer's waistcoat. How would anyone believe a woman could resist a man that smelled like this?
"I've asked her to come and stay here with us, for as long as is convenient. I've also extended the invitation to Mirabelle, Alastair and Lucien."
Elise was stunned. Spencer's family, here?
"Surely, they can't all just up and leave to chaperone us."
"I doubt that maman and Mirabelle have anything interesting on the horizon. The season has just a few months left and has been unremarkable so far. They'd all be at Winthorpe if Madeleine wasn't visiting her sick cousin in Bath. Alastair has been out of sorts, work's been slow since the war ended. Lucien will be tied up for a week or so, but once he clears up a bit of business, he should be free for the near future."
Apparently, they could just up and leave. They all could. Elise gripped the arm of the couch. Her head was pounding and her skin felt prickly.
"Are you alright?" She felt Spencer move closer, his hand gripped her shoulder.
Elise waved him off.
"I'm fine. It's just a lot to take in."
She felt him stand, he turned her and placed a pillow behind her back. Spencer pushed her shoulders back gently until she was reclining. He returned to his seat.
"Give me your feet."
"What? I'll be fine. Really."
"You've gone as pale as a sheet. Give me your feet. You'll like this, trust me."
Elise lifted her feet towards him and he placed them on a pillow on his lap. Spencer began kneading the soles of one foot with his thumbs and her muscles turned to water.
"Oh, dear lord!" Elise moaned and she gripped the couch to keep from falling off.
"Just relax." Spencer worked his way up the pad of her foot and her head lolled back. "I sent the letter as soon as I could this morning. I would have liked to discuss it first but it needed to be done and I had no idea when you'd be down. We can't be here alone longer than absolutely necessary. Truthfully, I should have sent it as soon as I arrived."
Spencer began kneading her calf and she felt as if she'd float to the ceiling.
"I've been too distracted to think clearly." His voice was low and gravelly again. It did things to her insides. Her lower insides. "After last night, it became clear that we needed to handle this properly."
It was rather unfair, him trying to have an intelligent conversation while rendering her brain useless.
"I understand. I do. It's just... I don't think..." Elise couldn't think! "This can't be proper." She sighed.
"It's not." Spencer murmured as he rotated her foot at the ankle. "But it's not nearly as improper as last night."
"True." Elise admitted. "We've become unusually familiar with each other in just a day. I don't quite understand yet it makes perfect sense. If that makes sense?"
She felt Spencer nod.
"I'm not so certain it will be as easy with your family."
"Will it feel like an intrusion, do you think?" Spencer's hands stilled and he sat forward.
"Not at all! Your family sounds lovely." He relaxed and resumed his assault on her ability to speak. "I'm scared they won't like me. What if I make them uncomfortable?"
Elise felt his chest shake.
"Darling, if anything, I'm worried they'll make you uncomfortable. They're a bit overwhelming at times."
"Surely not!"
Spencer switched to her other foot.
"Mmmm. Maman is at best of times, a force of nature. She will adore you. Mirabelle is a slightly milder version of maman. She has a sharp tongue and a quick wit. But she's unfailingly kind and when she loves someone, she loves them with her entire being. Alastair is a lot like you. He's aware of everything around him and incredibly perceptive. But sometimes too perceptive. He has a habit of objectively pointing out things one would rather he didn't. He can be too pragmatic and can seem detached. In reality, he's just highly logical and very guarded. Lucien is the complete opposite. Always charming and light hearted. At least on the surface. He has hidden depths that very few ever see. I expect he'll flirt with you because you're lovely and it will annoy me to no end. When we're all together, we can be boisterous to the point of appearing uncivilized. I'm worried that you won't accept them."
"Now, I truly hope they like me because I already love them."
It was true, Elise realized. She'd never had a family and his sounded like the family she'd always wished for as a child. She could hear his love when he talked about them. It was because of them that he was the man he'd become. Elise smiled and let the last of her resistance fall away as he worked his magic on her feet. Her last thought as she drifted off was that she was profoundly grateful to whoever it was that had taught him to render a woman senseless and unconscious through her feet.
Chapter 7
Gilles stroked Elise's feet long after she fell asleep, he was loath to stop touching her. He leaned back against the couch and softly caressed the tops of her feet as he stared unseeing out the opened French doors. He looked over his shoulder as Holderson entered. He made no effort to disturb Elise. Gilles trusted the older man and was confidant that he understood his intentions.
"May I get you anything,my lord?" He whispered.
Gilles looked up at Holderson. His expression was soft and his eyes twinkled.
"It's early, but I'll take a brandy. I've a lot on my mind."
"I understand." Holderson went to the sideboard where a decanter had recently been placed. It seems he did understand if he was adding amenities to make the room more comfortable for Gilles. He looked around the room and spotted the books he'd brought from London on the table next to his chair. His chair. He smiled. Elise's comment about how familiar they'd become came back to him.
"Holderson, that letter I sent this morning was to my mother. I've asked her to come to Longwood to act as a chaperone for Lady Elise and I. I expect that she'll arrive some time tomorrow and that my brother and sister will accompany her. The Duke of Clerendon will most likely come within a week. His mother as well, at a later date."
"I look forward to welcoming them to Longwood, my lord.", handing Gilles a generous portion of Brandy.
Gilles took a long sip and sighed.
"What do you think my greatest obstacle is, Holderson?"
The old man considered for a moment.
"She will think she's unsuitable and that you would be happier if you chose someone else."
Gilles looked at her. Her hair had come loose and the light was as content to hover around her as he was. She seemed to glow.
"She couldn't be more wrong." He said softly as he raised the brandy to his lips.
"Indeed." replied Holderson as he found a pillow and placed it behind Gilles' back.
"You don't oppose this?" When had a butler's opinion come to matter so much?
"I do not."
"How can you be sure I'm worthy in so little time?"
"For three reasons, my lord. One, you knew you'd fallen in love before I'd brung the tea yesterday and you aren't trying o fight it. Two, you are the kind of man that care's about how his staff regards him and would humble himself to apologize over a misunderstanding. Furthermore, you would consider a butler's opinion in a matter such as this."
"This is a rather unusual situation. You're a great deal more than a butler to her."
"I am. And you recognize that. Would you like me to bring tea and perhaps something more than scones? I noticed that you didn't finish your breakfast."
Gilles shook his head.
"Just this for now. I don't want the tea cold when she wakes up."
Holderson smiled warmly.
"Very good, my lord."
"You said three reasons. What's the third?"
The old man picked up a shawl and draped it across Elise.
"I've taken great care in preparing her meals since she was four. Any time she's needed a new pl
ate, someone has sent for me. No one else would think to try. This morning, there were two identical plates prepared for her and I'd only been responsible for one. It's a great comfort for me to know that someone else can do that for her when I'm no longer here." With that he left Gilles to his thoughts.
Later, Gilles examined the tapestries in the main hall as he waited for Elise to come down for dinner and reflected on the afternoon. He'd enjoyed watching her nap for almost an hour. After she rose, they shared tea before she took to her piano. He read, occasionally stopping to enjoy a particular song or just to watch her hands drift across the keys. He learned that she favored Herr Beethoven and was able to learn a song by hearing it played once or twice and that her solicitor would bring her new music from London. Apparently, Mr. Bramford's father had been a vicar and he'd learned to play the organ as a child. At the late earl's request, part of his duties had been to bring new sheet music to Longwood. As he was able, he often played the new pieces for Elise at the conclusion of his visit. Gilles found himself more than a little curious about this Bramford and looked forward to sitting in on his next visit. When he mentioned that Mirabelle played the piano well and would probably be happy to play with Elise, he was surprised at her excitement. She responded as if he'd offered to buy her the Crown Jewels. Which had him wondering what one bought a woman that had no use for jewels.
Gilles heard the light snapping of fingers and looked up to see Elise at the top of the stairs. His breath caught in his throat as his jaw fell, his body turned to lead. She had been transformed into a Grecian siren. She wore a gown of draped ivory satin with a gold lace bodice that hugged her tiny waste and accentuated her amazing breasts. Gold ribbon laced up the front of the bodice and had been left unlaced at the top. The effect was nearly too provocative yet still acceptable. The creamy mounds looked as if they could escape with minimal effort. As she descended, the sheer satin clung to her hips. Gilles hauled in a breath and tried to loosen his cravat. Of all the nights to wear the navy velvet coat and matching brocade waistcoat... He was beginning to perspire and felt his shirt stick to his back. He'd never survive the evening.
Elise smiled and reached for him when she stepped off the last stair. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed the tops of both.
"You look stunning." Gilles said as he placed her hand upon his sleeve.
Elise let out a soft gasp as her hand touched the velvet.
"Oh, how soft!" She raised her other hand and to his chest and ran her palm downward. Gilles hissed and pulled her towards the nearest door.
"What? Where are we going?" Elise asked, confusion filling her voice. "What happened?"
"I have some questions about this room." Gilles ground out as he tugged her through the door.
"What room is this?" Elise's fingers snapped quickly as she pressed against him to keep from bumping into anything.
"I don't care." Gilles whispered as he backed her against a wall.
He took her face in his hands and claimed her mouth. Elise opened for him instantly and he growled in approval as she sent her hands sliding up his chest, under his coat. His fingers skated down her neck and traced her collarbone. She arched her back and thrust her chest forward, begging him to continue.
"Christ!" Gilles swore as he pulled away from her lips and watched his shaking fingers caress the swells of her breasts. Her skin felt like silk but as he traced along the edge of her bodice she shuddered and goosebumps spread along the creamy expanse. He'd never held a woman this responsive, this sensual in his arms. He'd never been so close to losing control. Gilles cupped Elise's breasts and let his thumbs graze her nipples through the fabric. She moaned softly and her hips rocked against him. He took her mouth again and their tongues tangled wildly. Her hands clutched at his waistcoat as she tried to pull him closer. He set his lips to her neck and laved the spot under her ear and was about to lift her so that he could feast on her breasts when reality intruded. Gilles swore again and stepped back.
Elise whined and pulled him back to her. He took her lips briefly and as he withdrew hers clung.
"Don't stop!" She begged, her lips pushed out to pout and he almost gave in.
"Dinner, love. We have to go."
"I'm not hungry." She whispered as she reached for his face.
Gilles let her pull him down and tasted her once more.
"Holderson will look for us if we don't appear soon." He groaned against her lips as she grazed the nape of his neck with her nails.
With that Elise released him. Gilles stepped back and looked her over. It was dark but her dress seemed in place and her hair wasn't mussed. He tugged on his waistcoat and jacket. There was little he could do about the front of his breeches. He took her arm and led her from the room. In the light he could see that her lips were a touch swollen and she was slightly flushed. Otherwise, everything was in order. Gilles wanted desperately to have her in disorder. Starting with that dress. He wanted to untie the gold ribbon and let her breasts spill out. He thought of pushing the silk up along the length of her legs, revealing inch by delicious inch. Gilles had to think of something else before he made a scene. He could push Holderson only so far.
"Tell me, I know you rarely leave Longwood..."
"Never." Elise interrupted.
"Never?"
"I never leave Longwood. I haven't since the day I arrived as a child."
"That's... a long time." Gilles didn't know how else to describe the revelation. Unimaginable? Sad? Lonely?
"You were about to ask something before I interrupted you."
Gilles led her to her seat and pushed her closer to the table. Holderson placed her plate and withdrew.
He took his seat and waited until his wine was poured and he'd nodded at the various dishes offered. Once his plate was complete he continued.
"I assumed you must visit a modiste regularly and wondered if it was near by or you made trips to Town."
"No, My Lord. Anna and Alice make all of my clothing. I believe they are very talented. I'm rather fortunate but I fear their skills are wasted here."
"Ah, Anna again. She's your lady's maid, correct?"
Elise nodded as she chewed.
"Her and Alice follow the latest fashions and order whatever fabrics they need. I think they truly enjoy it so I indulge them, though I'm certain I have far too many dresses and am probably a bit overdressed most of the time. I often feel like a life sized doll."
"You are quite a stylish little thing. And you say they just order whatever they wish and you have no opinion?"
"They are very careful to keep my particular needs in mind and I'm always comfortable. I can't imagine what else I'd be able to add to the process."
"You misunderstand, they do excellent work and I can't fault their taste. I just can't imagine any other lady of my acquaintance trusting anyone so implicitly with their wardrobe."
"I don't really have a choice. If you're concerned with the expense, I assure you, I have all costs of my clothing taken out of my allowance. I really have no other expenses. Mr. Bramford hasn't seemed concerned so I assume they aren't putting me in the poorhouse."
Gilles leaned back and laughed.
"My lady, I assure you, the last thing that would concern me would be the budget for your wardrobe. It can't be worse than my own. I think your Mr. Bramford would swoon if he knew what maman and my sister spend. As countess, it's within your rights to charge it to the earldom. In fact, it would please me if you did so."
As he let his eyes sink into generous cleavage, Gilles realistically admitted to himself that he might be responsible for the destruction of several of her garments and thus required to replace them. His conscience would be soothed if he wasn't wasting her money.
Chapter 8
Meanwhile, in London, Lucien Haviland, The Eighth Duke of Clerendon and Sir Alastair Spencer alighted from separate coaches simultaneously in front of Spencer Place.
Alastair nodded in greeting.
"It's been a long time, Alastair!" Lu
cien teased as he slapped him on the back.
"We were just at White's this afternoon." Alastair mumbled as he checked his watch.
"Indeed! Which makes this that much more of a pleasure." Lucien gestured towards the door as it opened.
Bennings opened the door and bowed. He'd been butler at Spencer Place before either had been born and had survived their pranks and wildness. Both handed him their outerwear. Alastair gripped his upper arm warmly and Lucien pulled him into a friendly half embrace before they continued down the hall.
"Young rascals." Muttered the old man with fondness as he hung up their coats.
Approaching the sitting room, Lucien stopped Alastair.
"What's this about? You know I don't like surprises."
"I know as much as you do, I'm afraid." Which wasn't an understatement. Alastair thrived on information the way others thrived on food for nourishment. In fact, during the height of the war, he would forgo food for days because he believed a full stomach made his brain sluggish.
"I had planned to attend a party in Richmond before I received your mother's summons."
"Dinner at Spencer Place. Mandatory." Alastair recited.
"Exactly." Lucien grimaced as they walked through the parlor doors and located their partners for the evening, heads together whispering. "It must be Gilles, I hope he's not in too much trouble."
Alastair nodded and cleared his throat. Both ladies rose and rushed towards them.
Mirabelle was the first to speak.
"Good, you're both here. We received a letter from Gilles, it's most curious."
Maman thrust a letter towards them. Alastair took it while Lucien greeted the ladies.
"You look lovely as always, Celine." He bowed over her hand.
He leaned towards Mirabelle and kissed the top of her head.
Alastair noticed that she rolled her eyes.
"Miss Mirabelle, you're a vision." Lucien offered as he moved closer to Alastair in order to read the letter over his shoulder.
Saved By A Siren: Spencers in Love Book One Page 5