by Meara Platt
He gave a seductive growl as he took her into his arms, slipping one arm around her waist and taking her hand in his. “No, Goose. Never.”
Tingles of excitement threaded through her body. The heat of his touch seeped through her as well. She tried to remain calm and unaffected. But how could she when every pulse in her body was throbbing with excitement? “I’ll have to thank both Lord and Lady Plimpton for the news they gave us. I don’t wish to get my hopes up. It may come to nothing at all.”
“We’ll see.” His warm breath blew against her ear as he bent closer. “My Bow Street runner will dig up whatever there is to be found. But let’s give it no more thought. There’s nothing to be done about it this evening. And I still owe you a dance.”
She pursed her lips in confusion. “How? The waltz was the last of the evening. The musicians will have put away their instruments by now.”
Yet, his arms remained around her. The heat of his touch turned her insides liquid. He cast her a smile that made every last bit of her melt. “We shall make our own music.”
“We shall?” The Sherbourne music room had been crowded and too hot for her liking. But out here in Beast’s arms, she knew she was standing in fire. Her body was lit up like a torch.
“Unless you don’t wish to.”
She laughed again. “Indeed, I strenuously object. Why ever would I wish to dance under the moonlight with the handsomest man at the party? The handsomest in all England.”
He chuckled at her jest and drew her even closer.
She felt the warmth of the breeze on her cheeks and inhaled the scent of sandalwood on his skin. This was Beast’s alluring scent. It now mingled with the summer air that was heavy with the scent of roses and grass and moist air from the North Sea.
As she continued to breathe him in, she began to feel lightheaded.
He was rugged. Masculine. A hard-muscled, desirable male.
She closed her eyes and allowed him to expertly guide her through the steps, twirling her with such ease, she felt as though she were floating on a cloud. There was no orchestra playing. She merely danced to the music of her heart.
A proper young woman would have merely rested her hand on Beast’s shoulder, but she needed to cling to his solid strength so he would not float away like a bubble. Not that there was anything light or flimsy about him. She did not want the beauty of this moment to burst, for she feared he wasn’t real and would disappear if she ever opened her eyes.
He was the perfect dream.
His strength flowed through her. His touch felt like lightning against her fingers.
She lost herself in the enchanted moment.
When their pretend dance ended, she hoped he would lead her into the shadows to steal a lingering kiss, but they were not alone outdoors and she realized everyone on the terrace and others inside may have been watching them from the windows.
Of course, everyone watched Beast.
He was the person of interest.
He was England’s hero.
She was irrelevant, although he did not make her feel that way at all.
He grinned at her. “I know what you’re thinking, Goose.”
“You do?”
He nodded, still holding her despite the fact they’d stopped dancing. “You’re thinking this would be a perfect moment for me to steal a kiss from you.”
She hoped the night would hide her blush. “I was thinking no such thing.”
“Too bad, because that’s exactly what I was planning to do.”
She gazed up at him in surprise. “You were going to kiss me?”
He nodded. “But I shall scratch that plan since you aren’t interested.”
Her huff was mingled with laughter. “You give up awfully easily for a man who’s proven his valor on the field of battle.”
He cast her a smug grin. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?”
She looked around. People were now noticing they’d stopped dancing and he hadn’t released her.
He gave her hand a light squeeze. “You’re nibbling your lip and fretting. Don’t worry, Goose. I’m only teasing you. When I kiss you, we shall be quite alone.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “Then you haven’t scratched your plan, after all?”
He held out his arm to escort her back inside. “No.”
*
Beast had known it was dangerous to dance with Goose on the terrace. No music. Just this delicious girl in his arms. And everyone watching, because everyone always watched him and he was growing tired of it.
Instead of behaving himself, he’d caused a stir by waltzing with Goose. That would give the gossips something to talk about. England’s hero was now courting Lady Olivia Gosling. He wasn’t, really… at least he wasn’t certain what he was doing with Olivia beyond needing to be with her. Aching to be with her.
Aching to possess her, truth be told.
And not in any nice way, for the girl had a way of making him forget propriety and reason.
“Good night, Beast,” she said, smiling up at him as the last of the guests departed. She tried to stifle a yawn, but her smile was sleepy, her eyes were drooping, and it was obvious she wanted nothing better than to lean her head against his shoulder and drop off to sleep.
On impulse, he put his arm around her. “I’ll walk you upstairs.”
She nodded. “Poppy has already retired. So have Lavinia and Matilda. I think Thad is helping Nathaniel and Penelope close up the house now that everyone’s gone home.”
“I’ll have them leave the music room door unlatched. I’m going to take a walk around the grounds before I retire.” He was still wound up and needed to relieve the coiled tension building inside of him before he did something stupid.
The damn Book of Love was working on him.
Goose had only to look at him and his heart soared.
Other parts of his body responded as well. But it wasn’t merely her spectacular looks that set him off like a fireworks display. Everything about her drew him in deeper. Her kind and compassionate nature, her irritating hopefulness. Her appreciation of the smallest gestures. In typical Goose fashion, she’d forgiven him the moment he’d told her he’d been off writing to his Bow Street runner. When he’d also mentioned reading to Pip, her eyes had glowed with love.
Was it for him?
Or was the glow in those beautiful sapphire pools meant for Pip?
The girl was ridiculously soft-hearted, genuinely caring for the boy despite the spiders he kept dropping on her head.
Her breathy sigh brought him back to attention. “What is it, Goose?”
“There’s a full moon tonight. The sight of it over the pond will be lovely. A big, silver ball reflecting off the dark water.” She cleared her throat and stared at him as though waiting for him to respond.
He arched an eyebrow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Of course. I hadn’t meant to suggest I should accompany you.” Heat shot into her cheeks.
“You hadn’t?”
“No.” She became flustered and her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink because that was exactly what she’d hoped to do and he knew it. And she knew that he knew it. “Our dance on the terrace had the guests abuzz. Being seen with you by the pond at midnight would wreak havoc on both our reputations. I’ll make my own way upstairs. Enjoy your moonlight stroll.”
She turned on her heels and fled up the stairs, her backside wiggling like the tail feathers on a goose.
She had beautiful tail feathers.
He sighed, knowing she’d misunderstood his hesitation.
He’d been raised as a gentleman, but the girl had a way of bringing out the uncivilized urges in him.
He would kiss her eventually.
It wouldn’t be a prim or proper kiss.
Nor would it be just one kiss.
Nor would she be keeping her clothes on after he kissed her.
There was a strong possibility that his clothes would fly off, too.
; Chapter Thirteen
This is a night for dreams and fantasy.
Olivia was not going to dwell on the fact that Beast had not wanted her to join him for his walk. Obviously, he had important matters on his mind and did not want her around to distract him.
He’d given her a bracelet and a dance under the moonlight. She hadn’t the right to ask for more.
Since her maid could hardly keep her eyes open, Olivia dismissed her as soon as she’d helped her out of the lacings and ties of her gown. “I’ll manage the rest, Betsy.”
“Thank you, m’lady. In truth, I’m not used to keeping these late hours. I’m quite dead on my feet.” But she waited until Olivia had slipped off her gown and then assured her that she’d freshen it in the morning and pack it up for her trip home. “Sweet dreams, m’lady.”
“To you as well, Betsy.” She maintained a smile until the girl left, but her heart was already aching. This perfect week was about to come to an end, and she dreaded the thought of returning to London and the toad who called himself her guardian.
She wasn’t afraid of him, especially now that she had friends willing to help her, powerful friends who would keep him in line if he attempted to force her into marrying anyone not of her liking. He’d quaked in his boots when Beast had stormed into his study and demanded she accompany Matilda to Sherbourne Manor.
He’d faint when Beast returned her to the Gosling townhouse with a warning to treat her well or face the consequences. Beast’s mere threat would be enough to make that toad behave.
But she disliked involving her friends in her situation.
The threat would be enough. She would work out the rest on her own as best as she could before turning to any of them for more help.
Olivia slipped off her stockings and camisole, then donned her nightgown. The thin linen felt cool upon her skin, not at all how she imagined Beast’s hands would feel if he ever touched her in an intimate way. His hands would be big and warm, their touch fiery and sensual, evoking a passionate response from her.
She shook back to her senses.
She only knew about such things from what she’d read in books and in the way Beast had made her feel tonight and the time earlier in the week when he’d kissed her.
After removing the pins from her hair, she brushed it out and then braided it so that it fell in a long, loose braid down her back. Since her chamber was too warm, she crossed to the glass-paned doors that led onto her small balcony and opened them.
Her balcony overlooked the spot where she and Beast had been dancing a short while ago. She peered down, imagining their waltz all over again.
It could not have been more perfect.
Tears formed in her eyes.
She wiped them away with the back of her hand, but more tears took their place. These days at Sherbourne had been a dream come true. Would she ever know such happiness again?
“Goose, what’s wrong? I thought you were going straight to sleep.” Beast stepped out from the shadows below. He’d removed his jacket and cravat, and had them casually slung over his shoulder. “Are you crying?”
Her heart began to pound in panic. “You’re still here. I thought you were going to the pond.”
“No, I merely intended to stroll around the garden. You’re the one who suggested the pond. The moon is just as beautiful from here.” He set his garments aside on the terrace balustrade and then surprised her by scaling the trellis that ran up the wall beside her window. He moved with the agile stealth of a wolf.
In the next moment, he hopped onto her balcony.
“Beast!” Her voice was a breathless whisper.
Mercy. What did he intend?
He touched a finger to her wet cheek. “Why the tears, Goose? Did you not enjoy the evening?”
“I loved it,” she admitted, the delicacy of his touch heightening her agony. “But we return to town the day after tomorrow and… I’m not ready for this beautiful dream to end. But it must, for all dreams do no matter how hard one wishes otherwise.” A mirthless laugh escaped her lips. “I’ve come out here every night before retiring to wish upon a star. I’ve wished upon the moon, too. I’ve even wished upon The Book of Love. Every time I opened it. If the book had ears, they’d be numb from my pleas by now.”
“Goose… it doesn’t have to end.” His voice was rugged and raspy, holding the promise of something more than a dance, if she would allow it. What was he suggesting? Another kiss that would keep her going until she found the right man to marry?
The fierce look in Beast’s eyes suggested he was offering something dangerous.
Yes, she’d allow it. She would allow anything with Beast. But what if they were found out? His reputation would be the one damaged by scandal. No one cared about her. “I won’t have my situation made the subject of every gossip rag in London. I certainly won’t have you implicated as my benefactor.” She wrapped her arms around herself, for she was now shivering despite the warmth of the night. She wasn’t cold. She was scared about what might happen if she allowed him too close.
He noticed and took her into his arms. “Don’t be stubborn, Goose. I told you I would help.”
She pushed against his chest to move away. “Aren’t you listening? You are the last person I will turn to for help. We’ve discussed this before. I won’t involve my dearest friends in scandal.”
He allowed her to slip out of his arms. Despite being a valiant warrior, force was never Beast’s way. Not that he ever needed to use force to keep a girl in his arms. She was the only one foolish enough to push out of them.
“Goose, you know I don’t care about that.”
“But I care about it for you.” She could see he was growing irritated and restless, but there was no room to prowl across her small balcony.
He ran a hand raggedly through his hair and pinned her with a glower. “Stop thinking of others and think of yourself. I don’t need you to worry about what happens to me, or my political future. I can take care of myself.”
“But I have the power to destroy your future and I will not have a hand in that.” She ought to have sent him away, not only because it was improper to have him standing beside her, but because the desire he aroused in her was overwhelming and a bit frightening.
She had pushed out of his arms a moment ago, but that did not diminish her ache to be held in them, to lose herself in his touch and in his kisses.
He stirred her wanton impulses as no man ever could. “Beast, please go.”
He cupped her face in his hands instead. “Stop thinking of me as England’s next prime minister. If I wanted that, I’d be in London right now courting some duke’s icy daughter and kissing every royal arse presented to me.”
Despite her astonishment, she giggled. “You don’t mean that.”
He lowered his head to hers so that their lips were almost touching. “I don’t do well with diplomacy. I’ve never felt the need to kiss anyone’s arse, not even the royal ones. Although your tight, little tail feathers are quite tempting.”
She inhaled lightly. “Be serious, Beast.”
“I am. Quite serious.” He still held her face gently in his hands. His lips were now so close to hers, she could almost taste the brandy he’d been drinking. The scent of it carried on his warm breath.
She licked her lips. “Then you’ve made your decision?”
“I think I made it the moment I tore out of London as though the devil were chasing me. I wanted to be here. I wanted…” He released her and turned away. “You’re right. I had better go. Goodnight, Goose.”
“Beast, wait.” She reached out to stop him as he was about to swing his leg over the railing and descend the trellis. What was she doing? Hadn’t she just asked him to leave? “You didn’t finish the thought. What else did you want?”
His gaze was a mix of heat and smoldering desire. “Nothing remotely proper. Let me go before I do something we’ll both regret.”
“With me?”
He nodded. “With you. To you. I
shouldn’t have climbed up here.”
She held on to him. Not that it would have done much good had he chosen to ignore her, for her hand was small and his muscles were large. She barely had her fingers wrapped around half of his rock-hard arm. “Then why did you?”
“Hell if I know.” But he cast her a grim smile. “You were crying. I couldn’t bear it. You were undressed. I couldn’t bear that either. Your hair was down. I wanted to loosen the braid and run my fingers through your hair. I couldn’t bear not touching you. I couldn’t bear not kissing you.”
She closed her eyes and emitted a breathy sigh. “No regrets, Beast. I shall never have any with you. I’m ready whenever you are.”
*
“What?” Beast hadn’t had all that much brandy, certainly not enough to demolish his good sense. Goose was doing that all by herself. Ready? For whatever he meant to do to her? Was this a test out of The Book of Love?
Goose’s eyes were closed.
She looked innocent and vulnerable.
She looked luscious.
“Damn it, Goose. Open your eyes.” Her cheeks were still damp with tears. Her nightrail was too damn thin. He’d have it off her in seconds. Then what? Ravage her? Kiss every inch of her beautiful body? Then bid her good evening and go on his merry way?
“I don’t want to open my eyes. I want the dream to continue.”
“The dream or the tests described in The Book of Love?”
Her eyes popped open and she cast him a look of indignation. “I wasn’t thinking of the book. Did you not just tell me to think of myself? Well, I am. I want to wring all I can out of this enchanted night, and that means kissing you. You are what made it perfect for me. The earth won’t shatter over one harmless kiss. Nor will I.”
Moonlight wrapped itself around her body, revealing her every curve as it shimmered through the sheer fabric of her nightgown. It shone upon her hair that fell in a long braid over her shoulder. His fingers itched to undo it. He dared not touch her, but her braid rested on the soft mound of her breast like a beacon of temptation.