A Mistress for Penndrake

by Tammy L. Bailey

  “You do realize, my lord, that we risk exposure if you place that wretched thing over my eyes.”

  “You will be safe, Miss Holden. I promise you.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, turning her around and pulling her close. He’d wanted to teach her a lesson, to remind her how he was still in control of every situation, but he didn’t feel in control. He felt impassioned.

  “And I’m not ready to give you up yet,” he added.

  She gasped and his mouth covered hers, possessive and impatient. The warmth of her lips and the timid stroke of her tongue set his blood on fire.

  “Please,” she murmured, but did nothing to stop him or push him away. Instead, her arms lifted to his shoulders, bringing her closer, higher. He kissed her, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with hers. He maneuvered her back until she sank into the cool sheets of his bed.

  Wesley shook with the need to taste her more deeply, to feel the silken parts of her he had dreamed about on more than one occasion. Yes, he might have set up this entire moment, right down to confiscating Lady Garrett’s horrid undergarments, but not once did he wonder how much effort it would take to end it. Lost in his own passions, he began pulling at Kate’s dress, his mouth leaving hers to taste the sweetness of her flesh. She sighed against his neck, a euphoric sound causing him to harden with both pain and pleasure.

  She would be his ruin.

  …

  Kate had never known such exhilaration. Although her world remained black with uncertainty, she yearned for the next taste and feverish touch from his lordship, aching in places, tingling in others. His hand slid to her abdomen, her body yearning for a release she didn’t understand. Her hands tangled in his sleek hair, her lips parting to receive more of his ravenous kisses. So new at this, she tried to match his fervor, opening and feeding off his hunger.

  “Tell me what you want, Kate, and I will give it to you,” he whispered, his tone deep and restrained.

  Despite the blindness, she squeezed her eyes shut. It was a trick question, of course. What she wanted and what he’d give to her were two different things. She sobered from her unprincipled stupor and pushed herself up. Her hands trembled as they reached to lift off the mask. Afraid of glancing in his direction, she turned away and held the scandalous item in his direction.

  “I may not have a lot of inhibition when it comes to you, Lord Wesley, but it’s only because you are as forbidden to me as the apple was to Eve. Because of her, it is in our nature to want what we can’t have, and to pursue it until we have created a great catastrophe.”

  She averted her attention to the ground as he stood and shifted in front of her. She heard him inhale and exhale, slow and measured. “With a speech like that, madam, I wonder how your cousin has not returned to claim you for himself.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “I am not a property to be tossed back and forth to whoever declares some rightful ownership. It’s because of this that I shall never regret becoming a—”

  She smashed her lips together, afraid she’d said too much. He lifted off the bed, turned and grasped both sides of her arms, hauling her upward.

  “Finish what you were about to say,” he demanded, his eyes stormy in the dwindling firelight.

  Kate shook her head. “I will finish what I said if you give me what I came here to retrieve.”

  His lips thinned, and she swore she heard him growl. “Go.”

  She did as he bid, checking the corridor before stepping outside and taking the few paces into her room. She undressed, giddy from Lord Wesley’s kiss and anxious from her reaction. She lay awake in her thin chemise, staring into the canopy of her bed. So far, her will to stay on course had veered into dangerous territory. Oh, she’d been down this path before…or had she.

  With Arthur, his touch never exhilarated her. The innocent displays of affection never caused her stomach to somersault or her waist to tighten with longing and anticipation. If she declared herself in love with Arthur, then what on earth did she declare herself in with Lord Wesley?

  She groaned at her own answer and turned on her side. She would not allow herself to fall in love with Lord Wesley. If her heart had broken with Arthur, she had no doubt it would shatter into a million pieces once she learned the reason behind Edward’s warning.

  Then where would she run? Well, certainly not too far without stumbling. Exhausted, she forced herself into another restless and dream-filled sleep.

  Time had barely passed before she was torn awake by another dream. She screamed and then felt a masculine hand pressed hard over her mouth. Panic knotted her stomach and caused her heart to slam into her chest. She grasped the man’s fingers and writhed her body against a half-naked form when the familiar voice of Lord Wesley caused her to freeze in place.

  “Be still, Miss Holden,” he warned. “I’m fairly certain you do not wish to wake up as my wife.”

  Unsure how he came to be in her room or why, she clamped her teeth into his calloused flesh. He yanked his hand away and swallowed a few curse words, squinting into the dimness to examine the damage.

  “By God, woman!” he hissed.

  “Kate, are you all right in there? I heard a scream.”

  Kate opened her mouth to answer when Lord Wesley clasped her bare arms to bring her close enough to hear him. “Tell your young cousin you’re fine. That…you just saw a mouse.”

  Despite the dizzying circumstances, Kate leaned forward and whispered against his throat, “But I’m not afraid of mice.”

  The door handle rattled, and she drew up against him. Did she think her petite form could block his muscular one?

  “I’m fine, Lilly. I just…saw a mouse,” Kate croaked.

  “But you aren’t afraid of mice.”

  Kate clicked her tongue and then sent him a sidelong glance. “It was a very…large mouse.”

  “Oh,” came the quiet voice on the other side of the door. “Well, as long as you’re all right.”

  They waited a moment before hearing soft footfalls move away from the door.

  “Now, you will tell me, Miss Holden, why you felt compelled to scream my name?”

  Kate straightened, balking at his words. “I did no such thing,” she said. Inches away, his gaze, molten and reflective, slid across her barely clad form. Fire swirled from her belly to her face as a chilled wisp of air rubbed against her veiled breast.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, reaching for a blanket to cover herself.

  He sat up and bent his head toward the floor, using the quiet moment to rake the hand she’d injured down the length of his face. He exhaled and then turned back to her, his features chiseled into impatient lines.

  She let out a quick breath at his nearness and the way the light from a nearby candle licked over the corded muscles of his chest and abdomen.

  “Do you deny calling my name, Miss Holden?”

  She shook her head. “What? Why on earth would I do such a thing?”

  “Exactly, and yet I was thrust awake to my name on your lips. Not once, but twice.”

  Kate started to deny his words when the vivid images of her dream broke through her memory. She saw Arthur laughing and Lord Wesley watching as she tried to save herself from two fire-breathing dragons. In the middle of the battle she knew she couldn’t win, she tried to yell, only to hear nothing but silence. She waited for someone to help her, waiting until she propelled herself up and awake.

  “Miss Holden?”

  Kate winced, more so from the episode she’d caused than his emphatic tone. “I had…a bad dream, that is all.”

  “I thought you were hurt…or dying,” he said, his tone angry and void of empathy, as if the whole reason she was at Penndrake was her fault.

  Kate didn’t know what to think. He’d shown himself to her room to save her from an unknown death and appeared out of sorts that he’d found her well.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I was crushed by two fierce creatures, much like t
he ones on the crest in your study. I suppose out of desperation, I may have attempted to call your name.”

  He cocked one dark eyebrow at her. “At last, a confession,” he murmured. “So, did I rescue you again, Miss Holden, this time from fire instead of rain?”

  She shrugged. “No. While I awaited my death, you stood there, devouring some piece of forbidden fruit like a ravished street urchin.”

  He chuckled. “How brave you must have been.”

  She didn’t answer him for a long moment, contented to have them affable toward each other.

  “I suppose, then, I am more gallant in real life than in your dreams?” he teased her.

  She shook her head. “How is it that you have found a way to wreak havoc when I’m both asleep and awake?” she asked.

  He smiled and tugged the blanket higher to her chin. He leaned closer, and she held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her, to pull the blanket away and caress every place the air touched.

  Instead, he bent his mouth to her ear. “Miss Holden,” he said, his voice deep and husky, “you do not realize what truth you speak, for the both of us.” But before she could ask him to explain what he meant, he stood and glanced down at her.

  “You can’t possibly know the restraint I have shown regarding you,” he breathed, ragged and hoarse. “Soon,” he added and turned toward the door. She stared after his transcendent form, lying down long after her door shut to seal her inside. A slice of dawn showed itself between the hefty draperies.

  At this point, she wasn’t so naive to believe what she felt for Lord Wesley to be anything less than a rare and coveted longing. Without any warning, he’d swooped in at the exact moment she’d decided to fulfill her destiny as a governess, as a spinster, forcing her to doubt everything.

  She refused to let another man have so much power over her emotions again. She’d made her mind up long ago, and she remained as determined as the day before yesterday to see it through.

  “Soon, indeed,” she scoffed. Whether she intended to go back to sleep did little to change the fact that she lay wide awake until she dreaded to face the late morning. Not only did she have to confront Lord Wesley after rousing him from his sleep a few hours earlier, but Arthur as well, who only reminded her of the deepest, most painful part of her young life. If those two factors were not enough to make her want to leave, she didn’t know what was.

  Nevertheless, she rose and washed without assistance, adorning herself in a sage green, V-neck Empire gown, the sleeves fashionably short, the waist high and gathered. Around her neck, she fastened a simple pearl necklace. In her hair, she placed a light-green ribbon, allowing some of her glossy tendrils to fall along her cheek and eyebrow.

  “Hold on for a little while longer,” she said to her reflection and exhaled at such an impossible feat. Somehow, she had to retrieve her items from Lord Wesley before he held her more captive or challenged her with more kisses.

  So far, coming within a few feet of his commanding presence made her clumsier and caused her heart to rebel and pound with quivering excitement.

  No matter. Day two at Penndrake swelled like the white caps upon an unpredictable sea, with Lord Wesley inviting a few of his most affluent friends and acquaintances to an all-night dinner party. The Garretts fit in well, Kate thought, with Aunt Sophia and Claire playing to the crowd like jesters in a court. Deidra and Lilly found ways to amuse themselves, dancing with the two single gentlemen, Mr. Darlington and Captain Bernard Everett, who appeared captivated despite the girls’ perpetual giggling.

  In grand attendance were also Sir Glenbrook Pearson, his lovely wife, Gertrude, and Mr. Darlington’s beautiful sister, Miss Vivian. From the very first minute the woman entered the room, she’d placed herself on the arm of Lord Wesley and refused to leave it for any reason. Claire, upon noticing this as well, adhered herself to his other side.

  On a golden chaise, next to a sash window, Kate observed above the rim of a bubbling glass of champagne—her fourth since she’d sat down—his lordship’s trifling nature. As he smiled, they blushed. As he talked, they gushed, all enamored by what spilled from his beautiful lips.

  She’d begun to stand up to find an obscure view of the embarrassing display when Deidra plopped down beside her.

  “Oh, cousin, you must find yourself a partner and dance.”

  Kate sent Deidra a knowing look, the young lady’s mouth forming an O before nodding and saying, “Forgive me. I forgot.”

  A silent moment passed between them before her cousin bobbed her head toward Lord Wesley and his entourage.

  “She does look tiresome, doesn’t she? Miss Vivian, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much fluff and curls upon one’s head in my life. Even Mr. Darlington has kept his distance. He says his sister is so determined to marry his lordship, she refuses to dance with another gentleman until he offers.”

  The room began to spin around Kate, causing her to grasp Deidra’s long hands and turn her so they spoke very close together.

  “Deidra,” Kate breathed, unable to hear another word about the marquess, marriage, or the young women who thought to throw themselves at both. “It is very rude to talk about someone of which you know nothing about.”

  “But you must admit she is not right for him.”

  “Who is not right for whom?”

  Kate and Deidra snapped their heads up to find Lord Wesley looming over them, his form steely, his arms free of female decoration.

  A fiery blush lit into Kate’s cheeks, partly due to his intrusion and partly because of the ungodly amount of alcohol she’d consumed. Beside her, Deidra made a slight move to stand. Desperate, Kate gripped her hand and squeezed it until her poor cousin winced. Kate didn’t trust herself with the marquess. She needed Deidra there to distract her, to keep her from swaying too far in his direction.

  “My, I’m parched,” Deidra said, shaking her hand from Kate’s vehement hold, scurrying across the room in the opposite direction of the refreshment table. Traitor.

  Kate, not in the mood for games, and her mind a little lightheaded, blurted her thoughts out loud. “She doesn’t seem to think you and Miss Vivian make a good match.” Kate lifted her glass and sipped, the amber liquid tickling her nose.

  “Is that so?” he questioned, a crooked smirk spreading across his captivating face.

  “Yes.” She hiccuped.

  Too dizzy for embarrassment, she waited as he lifted his arms wide and asked, “Then, what female in the room would you say would make me a good wife, Miss Holden?” He remained standing, his head tilted, his powerful stare flickering under long black lashes.

  “A wife? For you?” she asked, saying the words before her tongue could pull them back.

  He nodded.

  She sighed, stood, and then wished she’d thought to stop at one glass. “Well,” she said, tilting forward to gaze around at the numerous females in the room. After a few moments, she twisted her bottom lip between her teeth. “Must they be single?”

  He blinked. “I’d prefer it.”

  She thought, tapping her chin and gazing around once more. Her immediate attention was drawn to her dear cousin Claire. The woman glared at Kate from across the room, her handsome face tinted red from either anger or too much dancing.

  “Then, I suppose, Miss Claire Garrett.”

  His mouth fell open as if surprised she had chosen someone other than herself. “Why on earth would you say that?”

  Kate drew up…and almost tipped backward. When she’d regained her balance, she shrugged. “Why on earth would I not, my lord? You’re both beautiful and conceited, with just the right amount of selfishness to keep you engaged in your own lives until the day you die.”

  Kate knew she’d overstepped her boundaries, and she dipped her head and closed her eyes to hide her shame. Only, in the darkness, her head began to spin to a dizzying degree. She felt her body falling forward until a commanding hand clasped around her upper arm and pulled her up.

  “Let’s take a
walk,” Lord Wesley said, his mouth close to her temple.

  “I don’t—”

  “I did not pose it as a question, Miss Holden.”

  Kate swallowed a retort and allowed him to escort her around the room, a few pairs of seething gazes causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. They’d managed to slip near the open foyer when Arthur appeared out of nowhere to stand in their direct path.

  “Ah, there you are. I can take Miss Holden from here, cousin,” he said, a smile as wide as the Thames playing across his attractive face.

  Disappointment washed over Kate as Lord Wesley’s arm dropped to his side. She began to step forward only to have him shift slightly in front of her, his gaze unblinking, his features like granite as he stared at Arthur.

  “Since we’ve yet to finish our conversation, I must insist she remains with me.”

  Beaten by rank and a resolute conviction, Arthur fell back a few paces and motioned with his hand for them to pass, his smile never fading.

  “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Conceited and selfish,” Lord Wesley said, oblivious to the stares and whispers while offering his arm for her to take.

  Still ashamed of what she’d said, Kate lowered her voice. “Please forgive me, my lord, but you must realize, given our short history together, I’m not one to shower you with false flattery. It does not help that my mind seems to have no control over my tongue tonight.”

  He bent down close to her ear. “Seeming that I have a great desire to explore the first, and an ardent need to reacquaint myself with the second, you’re forgiven.” His hushed words were, Kate thought, said on purpose to elicit a blush, or perhaps a giggle.

  As she waited for both to show themselves, a realization dawned on her. “Oh, is that what you were doing?”

  He skirted her around Sir Glenbrook Pearson and his lovely wife, Gertrude, a couple Kate found both amiable and unpretentious.