Seducing The Perfectly Enchanting Marquess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  Looking back up at her face, he smiled. “We must go down and act casual now.”

  “Easy enough for me,” Amanda said. “A bit more trouble for you, I imagine,” she blushed, hinting at the visible evidence of his arousal.

  “Go ahead of me. I’ll splash my face with cold water in my room and be down in a moment.”

  She did as he said, taking several deep breaths of her own as she descended the stairs for fear that the flushness of her cheeks or her lips would give herself away when she came back into the company of the others.

  Kelly raised an eyebrow just slightly when she came back, but he said nothing, thank heavens.

  Moments later, Joseph reappeared, and they all set to playing a rousing game of cards. It was a pleasant way to spend an evening. Despite the fact that Amanda had never particularly cared for parlor games, she was in such a light mood that nothing could seem less than perfect.

  Joseph seemed adept at acting as though there was not a blazing inferno of desire burning between them. He joked and played well, seeming as casual as ever.

  Amanda, though, couldn’t keep her mind focused on the game. She kept accidentally playing foolish hands and ended up losing miserably. Even then, she couldn’t help but smile. Her whole body felt like it was tingling, anticipating, yearning for Joseph’s touch.

  The night grew long, and finally, they all went to bed. Amanda laid on top of her blankets for a long while, wrapped in her dressing gown, staring at the ceiling. Joseph was only a few paces away.

  Is he asleep?

  It seemed unlikely. As coolly as he had been able to act in the parlor, she could not forget the sensation of his erection pressing against the top of her hip. No. He was not asleep. He was lying awake, thinking about how close she was. Only a few paces away.

  Finally, she sat up. It was deep into the night by then, and the house was perfectly silent. But she could sit still no longer. She felt as though she were half dreaming as she stood up and silently crossed the room. She turned the handle of her door and stepped into the hallway, the floorboards cool against her bare feet.

  Her heart thudded in her chest.

  She didn’t stop to think. She crossed the hallway and, just as silently, she opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside, closing it behind her with no sound.

  “Amanda?” he whispered. She heard rustling sounds as he sat up in bed. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. His room did not have the benefit of moonlight to illuminate it as hers had.

  She said nothing. Carefully, she tiptoed across the room, and, lifting the edge of his blankets, she crawled into his bed.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered. She knew he was smiling despite the darkness because she could hear the hint of it in his whisper.

  “I can’t sleep,” she finally replied. His body was warm under the blanket and she sidled against him, gliding her hand across his chest and nestling into the crook of his shoulder.

  “Amanda, what will people think if, in the morning, you are found here?”

  “I will wake up with the sun and slip back into my room. No one will know.”

  He continued to tell her of the foolishness of her actions, but his words rang hollow as his hands found her beneath the weight of the blankets. His touch traveled lazily over the contours of her body, making her shiver despite the warmth of his bed.

  “Did I wake you?” she breathed. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloom enough that she could make out the silhouette of him, and she dragged her fingers over the familiar angles of his jawline. His skin was rough now, the stubble of a long day making a faint scratching noise under her fingertips.

  “No,” he whispered, “I was awake too.”

  “Thinking of me?” she asked.

  He made a low hum that resonated from the hollow of his throat. A yes.

  “And what is it you were thinking about me?” she asked.

  “Nothing I can say out loud to a lady.” His voice was lower now, gravelly.

  “So, whisper it, then.”

  He hesitated still, and she could sense him smiling.

  “All right then. You can show me,” she said.

  Suddenly, he was on top of her. Amanda gasped quietly, her hands coming to his shoulders as he settled between her thighs. Reflexively, she let her knees fall apart. Her nightgown was thin linen, but what little resistance it might have offered was null because of the way it had hitched up under the covers.

  He was wearing only his smalls and a loose shirt that twisted and tangled under the blanket. When he ground his hips against hers, she was surprised by the heat of his manhood as he pressed it against her sex. The sensation was like lightning, a sudden twitch of pleasure that convulsed up her back and down to her toes.

  “Amanda,” he whispered against her ear, slowly rolling his hips in a way that caused gentle friction between them that felt like nothing she could have ever imagined.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  “I must ask you something rather indelicate. You must answer truthfully.”

  She nodded, her toes curling.

  “You were engaged for quite some time,” he continued in that jagged, low voice. “Tell me honestly, did you and he ever—”

  “No,” she answered.

  “It’s understandable if you did. I wouldn’t think any less of you.”

  “We didn’t,” she assured him.

  He sighed, a long, slow exhale, and then rolled off of her, gathering her up in his arms as he laid on his side.

  “Are…are you upset?” she asked, confused by this abrupt change.

  She could see well enough now to actually see the smile on his lips rather than just hear it.

  “I feel that I must prove myself to be at least as gentlemanly as your first man.”

  “Oh, but I don’t want you to be. In fact, I much prefer for you to be quite as ungentlemanly as possible at the moment,” she protested quietly.

  He chuckled, stroking her cheek and kissing her. “Sweeter words than those cannot be spoken to a man, Amanda. And I hope that you will repeat them just as sweetly when we are married.”

  “Oh, Joseph, I don’t want to wait. I waited before and it got me only heartache.” She rolled onto her elbow, propping herself up to kiss down his neck to his collar bone. She could feel his pulse beating wildly under her lips. Emboldened by the darkness and the spreading ache that radiated from her core, she trailed her fingers down his chest and over the hard planes of his stomach.

  When she let her fingers trace the hard ridge of his erection, he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

  “See? You want it too.”

  He scoffed, pulling her hand away just as she was about to wrap her fingers around him to test his alarming girth. “It was never a matter of not wanting it. I’ve wanted it since I first laid eyes on you.”

  He pushed her onto her back, still grasping her by the wrist.

  “Really?” she asked

  “From the very first moment,” he said, “I’ve wanted you. And I will have you.” He kissed her as if he was sealing a promise. “I will. But when I undress you for the first time, it will be your wedding dress in a puddle on the floor. The first time you call out a man’s name and wrap those lovely legs around him, it will be your husband’s name on your lips.”

  Amanda’s breathing was deep and quick, a faint panting that added to her lightheadedness as he pinned her by the wrists to the bed.

  “Do we have a deal?” he asked.

  Amanda sighed, smiling. “I suppose.”

  He grinned, releasing her wrists and falling back onto his side. She nestled against him, nuzzling her nose into the front of his shirt. “Can I stay if I promise to be good?”

  He chuckled darkly. “Go to sleep, Amanda. I will wake you in time to sneak back into your room.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her fast as she slipped peacefully into the best night of sleep she could remember.

  Chapter 29

  The fo
llowing morning, Amanda woke up to the touch of Joseph’s lips on her forehead. It was still dark, but his room had taken on a faint gray glow.

  “Wake up, darling,” he whispered.

  Amanda shook her head, nuzzling deeper into the soft puddle of blankets that enfolded them together.

  “You must. I’m frightened of the Dowager.”

  She giggled. She was too, when it came right down to it. She sat up reluctantly. The air was chilled, and every inch of her soul wished to crawl back into that halo of heat. Reluctantly, she got up, and, with one last kiss, she slipped silently out of the room, padding swiftly to her own.

  Her own room was brighter than Joseph’s, and though she considered getting back into her own bed and sleeping for another hour or so, she decided it wasn’t worth it and she went about getting dressed instead.

  That morning at breakfast, Amanda wondered if she looked different. She felt positively reborn after spending a night held in Joseph’s arms. It had to be obvious. If it was, no one said anything, which was for the best.

  “I’ve gone ahead and arranged for you all to have a tour of the Tower of London.” The Dowager Marchioness spread strawberry preserves thickly onto her toast.

  “It’s haunted!” Lady Heather exclaimed with glee.

  The Dowager Marchioness’s eyes darted to the girl in alarm. “Good Heaven, is it?”

  “It must be! Miss O’Neil read me the story about the wicked Richard the Third and his dastardly murder of the princes in the tower. It’s simply got to be haunted. I bet we will see them!”

  “Honestly, I don’t encourage this kind of talk,” Amanda said apologetically. “This is not my doing.”

  Kelly was laughing, struggling to swallow his tea.

  “No, she’s always been like this,” Joseph confirmed blithely.

  “You know, Lady Heather, I used to live in a haunted house,” the Dowager Marchioness said, leaning in.

  “Really?” Lady Heather’s eyes lit up.

  “Mother, not this story again—” Kelly rolled his eyes.

  The Dowager Marchioness launched into a story about a rocking chair that rocked on its own when Kelly was just a baby. She was adamant that it was her grandfather’s ghost, as the chair had once belonged to him. Lady Heather was an immediate believer, though Kelly was clearly unimpressed and quickly turned the conversation back to the plans for the afternoon.

  “Actually, I have some business in town,” Joseph said. “I will have to meet you there.”

  “What business, Father?” Lady Heather asked.

  Amanda wondered too, but he gave a vague answer and she decided to let him keep his secrets.

  So, when they went off to the Tower, it was herself, Kelly, and Heather. The weather was a bit cooler that morning, and the clouds above were less puffy and darker than they had been thus far on the trip. It looked to be threatening rain, but they were undaunted in their quest to determine if the famed tower was haunted by two murdered princes.

  They were approaching the Tower itself when a man cried out to Kelly using his nickname. Kelly’s face brightened as he greeted the man.

  “Miss O’Neil, this is my friend from school, Mister Abernathy.”

  “Judge Abernathy, now,” the man answered, bowing deeply to her and Lady Heather.

  “Judge! Mercy me, it’s been far too long.”

  “I’m here with my wife and son, actually. Will you come and meet them?” Judge Abernathy asked. “If it’s not too terrible of an intrusion?” He glanced at the ladies.

  Amanda smiled warmly at Kelly. “You run along. I can manage Lady Heather on my own for a few minutes. We will meet you inside.”

  “You’re certain you don’t mind?” Kelly asked, looking rather like a schoolboy himself at that moment.

  Amanda chuckled. “Of course, I don’t mind. Hurry back, though.”

  He thanked her and then the men were off in the other direction.

  “Shall we?” Amanda asked Lady Heather. The girl nodded enthusiastically, and they hurried toward the tower just as a light rain began to fall. They were on an ancient stone staircase which, even to the skeptical Amanda, did elicit a certain ghostly atmosphere. Her hairs stood up on the back of her neck, and when she heard her name called from behind her, in a voice she did not recommend, she whirled around anxiously.

  There, striding toward her and Lady Heather, was none other than Forester Bently, the Earl of Pemperose.

  “My Lady, how wonderful to see you again,” he said with that wide grin.

  “My Lord,” Amanda dropped into a curtsy.

  Being without a male chaperone hadn’t felt particularly troublesome when it was merely ghostly children to put her on edge. But the gleam in Lord Pemperose’s eyes made her feel terribly exposed. She found herself holding her hands up to her chest, though its neckline was perfectly modest.

  Still, the way he glanced in that direction made her cheeks burn.

  Doesn’t he know better than to stare? At a woman’s chest?

  Bitterly, she wondered if he treated her so brazenly because he knew that she was not really a lady, but a common governess.

  She raised her chin slightly.

  Little do you know, Lord Pemperose. Soon I shall be a Marchioness.

  The thought surprised her, as she had never given a thought to the title she was set to acquire through marriage.

  “How lucky Lady Heather is, to have her history lessons illustrated so viscerally. You must be very proud of your pretty governess,” he said, bending at the waist to look at Lady Heather.

  She glanced up at Amanda, then sidled behind her.

  “They are bashful at that age, aren’t they?” he chuckled, straightening up again.

  “Yes,” Amanda said, though Lady Heather was about as far from bashful as it was possible to be most of the time.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked with an air of casual interest.

  “With the Dowager Marchioness at her London estate. She invited us for a holiday.” Amanda glanced around.

  Where is Kelly?

  “Capital. Just capital. You know, I have been curious since we last spoke, My Lady, about that necklace of yours. You never got to tell me the story behind it before. I see you are wearing it again. It must be important to you.”

  Amanda remembered how he had asked about her necklace before. She didn’t understand why it so interested him, but she had the impression that it was merely an excuse, a cover for his leering at her chest.

  She took the pendant out from under her neckline, where it nestled customarily between her breasts. Once she told him about it, he wouldn’t be able to excuse his staring any longer, at least.

  “It’s all I have of my family. I was adopted by the O’Neil’s in Dublin when I was twelve, but I have no memory of my life before then. Other than this necklace, which has my name engraved on the back, I have no knowledge of my life before then.”

  He looked at her quizzically. She thought she saw his face soften and something in him seemed to change.

  “You remember nothing before you were twelve years old?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve tried to remember all these years, but nothing has ever come to me. I’ve put it behind me now.” She tucked the pendant back into her dress. “I am happy. I don’t need to grieve what I can’t remember.”

  Lord Pemperose nodded slowly. “My, what a remarkable story.”

  “Here you are,” Joseph appeared behind Lord Pemperose and Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. Something about that man’s gaze just made her feel so exposed. “Where is Lord Brubrun?”

  “Lord Ethelred,” Lord Pemperose bowed to Joseph. Joseph regarded him coolly, inclining his head. “I was just saying good morning to your lovely governess again. I hadn’t expected to meet her here.”

  “We are visiting the Dowager Marchioness,” Joseph said.

  “Yes, she told me.”

  The air between the two gentlemen was tense. And then Kelly arrived, looking harried. H
is hair was damp as if he had been jogging through the rain.

  “Ah, I see you found the ladies,” he said to Joseph. “I only left them for a moment, you know. Amanda said it was all right. Good afternoon,” he nodded perfunctorily at Lord Pemperose.

  With the tenseness thus dispelled, Lord Pemperose said his goodbyes and descended the stairs.

  “A friend of yours?” Kelly asked Amanda.