Joss and The Countess (The Seducers Book 2)

by S. M. LaViolette

“I said you needn’t do this—stay with me. I can tell Mama I changed my mind.”

  Lord, her quiet acceptance of his possible rejection in her eyes gutted him; he couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone who was quite so lonely.

  “I would like to stay,” he said. “It’s just—”

  “I know, it is odd and you are uncomfortable.”

  Joss nodded, relieved not to have to explain.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get your love of poetry?”

  “From my mother.” Joss hesitated, and then added “She was a governess before marrying my father. She had a great love of books—they were her prize possessions.” They’d certainly been more prized than any of her children, whom she’d left behind, while taking her books.

  “She died?”

  Joss raised his brows.

  “You said she had, so I assumed she died.”

  She certainly had for Joss and his family. He nodded. “Yes, when I was fifteen.”

  They were silent for a moment, and Joss wondered if she was thinking of her own mother, the first Lady Selwood, who, unlike his, really had died.

  “That is a list Miss Tate drew up before she left. Have you read many of the books?”

  Joss studied the piece of paper she’d handed him, which held perhaps twenty books. He looked up to find her waiting, her expression expectant. “I’ve read all but these three at the bottom.” He gave her back the list.

  “Ah,” she said, tilting her head and squinting suspiciously. “You don’t care for women novelists?”

  Joss smiled at her mock arch tone. “My circulating library has a long waiting list for the more popular books.”

  The door opened and Lady Selwood entered. Joss sprang to his feet and she motioned him back down. “No, sit, sit. I shouldn’t like to disturb your book society.”

  “Have you read any of these, Mama?”

  Lady Selwood hesitated before taking the outstretched sheet. While she looked, her stepdaughter continued. “I am a very fast reader—are you, Mr. Gormley?”

  “I am adequate, my lady.” In fact, Joss was rather fast. Reading subscription books was a quick business as one didn’t get the book for very long.

  “Do you have a preference? Or would you perhaps prefer some verse? Mama said you were reading Shakespeare—”

  Lady Selwood looked up from the sheet she’d been studying. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, Lizzy.”

  Both Joss and Lady Elizabeth blinked at her rather sharp tone.

  “Oh. Well, do you have a preference, Mr. Gormley?”

  “No, my lady,” he said, his gaze still on his employer. What was she finding that was so fascinating on that list?

  “Would you like to read Persuasion first?” Lady Elizabeth asked him.

  “Persuasion would be fine, my lady.”

  Lady Elizabeth glanced at her stepmother, who was still looking at the list. “Persuasion is for young ladies, Mama. It is quite proper.” The countess finally lowered the sheet of paper. “Have you read it?” the younger woman asked.

  “No, darling, I haven’t. But that sounds fine.”

  “Excellent! Persuasion it is. Would you like to join us, Mama?”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to be rather frantic with all these plans for our holiday pleasure.”

  He could see the girl was disappointed, but he could also tell she was accustomed to putting the best face on things.

  “I just came down to remind you that we are to have dinner a bit earlier tonight. Remember, we are going to the theater.”

  “How could I forget.” She turned to grin at Joss. “You are going, too, Mr. Gormley. It’s a production of The Tempest, have you read it?”

  “Yes, my lady, I have.” Joss glanced at Lady Selwood.

  “Lady Elizabeth will require assistance as her chair is not practical at the theater. You will remain in the box to wait on her. Please be ready with the carriage immediately after dinner. Now,” she said, dismissing him and turning back to her stepdaughter, her icy expression melting. “You can probably discuss novels for an hour, but then Gormley should return you to your chambers if you’re to be ready on time.”

  “Of course, Mama.”

  She kissed her daughter’s cheek and left without another glance at Joss.

  When he looked at the younger woman, she smiled and handed him another sheet. “Now, for the fun part. This is a list of what I have already read this year. Which of these have you read recently—so that we might discuss it?”

  ∞∞∞

  Joss had to admit he was more excited than he should be. He’d seen plays—many times—but he had never watched from anywhere other than the pit when he’d gone to the Drury.

  ​Although he could have easily afforded tickets when he worked for Melissa he’d been saving his money, not splurging on extravagances.

  Lady Selwood had arranged for them to use a side entrance to the theater so they were able to avoid the chaos out front. They’d also come a bit early so Joss encountered very few patrons as he carried Lady Elizabeth to the luxurious box that apparently belonged to Lady Selwood.

  Once Lady Elizabeth was comfortably installed, Lady Selwood turned to him. “You may sit here,” she gestured to the seat right behind her daughter. He must have looked surprised, having expected to stand at the back of the box, because she said, “I want you to be near if Lady Elizabeth has need of you.”

  “Of course, my lady.” But when he cut a glance at the girl, he saw she was grinning at him. So, he had her to thank for the seat.

  They were the first to arrive, but others soon swelled the box.

  It was apparent that Lady Elizabeth and Joss were the only ones who were more interested in the play than what was going on around them. But even with the nonstop chattering, flirting, and conspiring Joss was able to hear most of what happened on the stage.

  It was a quality production and worthy of the theater: the experience was transporting.

  All too soon it was intermission.

  Joss stood and went to the back corner while the guests left the box. Soon there was nobody left except Lady Selwood, Lady Elizabeth, and three younger friends of her ladyship’s whom Joss did not know.

  He saw Lady Selwood lean down and say something to her daughter, but the girl shook her head. Lady Selwood looked at Joss and gave a very slight shake of her head. So, he was not needed to carry her.

  The group of five were chatting and laughing when a tall form entered the box.

  Joss knew from Lady Selwood’s expression who the newcomer was before he saw him.

  Lord Selwood greeted the younger guests first, saving his stepmother and sister until last.

  “What a pleasure, Alicia. And you, too, Lizzy. Tell me, are you enjoying yourself?”

  The girl turned to answer her brother and her expression shocked Joss: Gone was the smiling, gregarious, pretty young woman. In her place was a wooden, pale, and awkward person he scarcely recognized.

  Whatever she said was too quiet for him to hear. Her gaze, however, flickered to Joss and her lips trembled into a smile, almost as if she were glad to see him. Her brother immediately turned, following her line of sight.

  “What’s this?” His teeth were a flash of white. “Ah, I see you’ve brought your beast of burden with you, Lizzy.”

  “His name is Mr. Gormley, David.” The girl’s voice was uncharacteristically sharp and an awkward silence filled the box. Joss was distantly aware of the others shuffling uncomfortably, but he could not take his eyes from Lord Selwood, who was still smiling, but not in a pleasant way.

  “Yes, of course. Mr. Gormley.”

  Joss’s hackles were well and fully raised.

  Lady Selwood stepped forward, putting her person between the earl and Joss. “I’m pleased to see you’ve found some time for entertainment, David.”

  Joss could see the other man knew what she was doing and that it amused him.

  “I always make time for pleasure, Alicia.�
��

  The conversation slid back into well-worn ruts and the next ten minutes ground by. The only one enjoying the exchange was Selwood.

  “Well, my dears,” he finally said, “I’d best take my leave.” The tall lord kissed his sister and Lady Selwood, once again appearing not to recognize their body language. Only Joss saw his face before he turned, and it was almost unrecognizable. Gone was the gregarious, friendly brother and son-in-law. In his place was a man who was about to stick the knife in—and enjoy it.

  “Oh, by the way, Alicia. It seems I’ll be free for dinner on Christmas Day, after all. I do hope you still have a place for me?”

  Lady Selwood would have resembled a marble statue if not for the red that stained her high cheekbones. She smiled and Joss could see it cost her. “We would love to have you.”

  Selwood turned, raising his brows and grinning at Joss, as if the two of them were co-conspirators.

  When the door closed behind the earl, Joss realized he felt dirty—dirtier than he’d ever felt after a day of work at the butchers.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alicia closed the door to Lizzy’s room and leaned against it, releasing the sigh she’d been holding all evening—or at least since David had intruded on their pleasant night.

  He’d come to let her know he was watching her, an activity he’d always enjoyed because he knew it unnerved her.

  But his reaction to Mr. Gormley—to Joss—had been more than a little worrisome. It had been like a meeting of two predators inimical to each other.

  Alicia snorted at her melodramatic thought, crossing through her sitting room into the bedchamber beyond. Maude had helped her out of her evening clothes into her nightgown after she and Lizzy had arrived home.

  “Don’t worry about my hair, Maude, Lizzy will brush it for me. You may go to bed.”

  Alicia and Lizzy had spent an hour gossiping and brushing each other’s hair. And now? Now she was alone. And wide awake.

  She was in her cloak and hat in a trice and on her way out the door when she paused. She would need to say something to him this time—not like the last time when she’d merely blustered into his rooms and thrown herself at him.

  Alicia acted before she could talk herself out of it; she would think of something to say when she got there.

  Her eyes alighted on a decanter of ludicrously expensive cognac. She snatched up two glasses from the mirrored tray, putting one in each cloak pocket, and then held the bottle to her chest. She was halfway to his rooms before she accepted what she was doing: running headlong into disaster. Again.

  But she couldn’t help it. She kept remembering his expression tonight when he’d looked at David. There had been no worry or humility in his eyes. The way he’d looked at the powerful, wealthy lord had been fearless. It had been. . . arousing. He’d resembled a gladiator or some mythical knight, prepared to fight to protect what was his.

  She was breathless when she reached the top of the stairs. Before she could knock, the door swung open, making her yelp.

  It was him. Joss. Again, he wore only his trousers and shirt. He looked at her without speaking, his expression the stone wall it always was. And then he stepped back and let her inside.

  ∞∞∞

  Joss was surprised to see her. He’d begun to wonder if his memories of those two nights were dreams or hallucinations.

  He closed the door and waited for her to speak.

  She brought her hands from beneath her cloak. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Joss glanced from the crystal decanter to her face. She wasn’t smiling, but hope was shining in her eyes. Hope and something he was far more familiar with: lust.

  He took the bottle and went to the battered wooden table.

  “Here.” She took two cut crystal glasses from the pockets of her cloak.

  Joss poured them both a drink while she plucked off her hat and cloak and laid them over the wooden-backed chair and then turned to him.

  She was wearing a dressing gown—the white silk one he’d seen her wear that day she sent the message for Byerly—and her hair was caught up in a loose knot, as if she’d hastily put it up.

  He handed her a glass.

  She raised it to her face and inhaled. “Cognac.” She cut him a glance from beneath her thick, unusually dark lashes. “Cognac is a—”

  “I know where cognac is from and what it is.” He lifted his glass, inhaled, and then took a drink, savoring it on his tongue, letting it roll slowly over the part of his palate best suited to appreciating such a delicacy.

  She took a drink and studied him, her gaze no longer open, hopeful, and lustful, but shuttered. Joss felt a small, mean surge of triumph at having squashed her so quickly. After all, she’d squashed him utterly flat days ago and rolled over him again and again each day she’d ignored him.

  “I am sorry.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Well, this should be interesting.

  She gave him a wry smile. “I can see you’re not in a conciliatory mood.”

  Joss gestured to the chair in the other room. “Would you like a seat?”

  “Yes.” She looked at the rickety wooden backed chair. “Please bring that chair. I want to sit and talk. Not to you, but with you.”

  He picked up the chair, placing it across from her in his tiny sitting area before lowering himself onto it.

  She chewed her lip, took a substantial drink from her glass, and began. “You must be wondering what would happen if you refused me.”

  It was not a question, so he didn’t answer.

  “I want you to know your position here is not dependent on what happens here tonight.” She gave him a direct look and he realized she wanted some verbal confirmation.

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  “Why do I feel like you don’t believe me?”

  “I couldn’t say, my lady.”

  She frowned and put down her glass with a thump. “After what we did—you did—the last time, you should call me Alicia.”

  Joss took a drink before he answered, wanting to rein in the fury he felt. “Is that an order, my lady?”

  She recoiled. “No, of course it isn’t. I apologize if it sounded that way.” She stared hard at him. “Do you want me to leave? To forget all of this and go on as if nothing has happened?”

  That made him smile. “You mean the way you have been doing?”

  She opened her mouth, and then shut it.

  Joss nodded, even though she’d said nothing. “Yes, perhaps you see the way things are. One of us makes the decisions and the other complies. I am the one who complies, my lady.”

  “So, you are angry.”

  “I am.” He was beyond angry. He was furious. And hurt. Stupidly, foolishly, deeply hurt.

  “I’ve behaved. . . high-handedly.”

  He laughed.

  Her cheeks darkened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what? Banishing me to the stables?”

  “I didn’t—” Joss cocked his head and she stopped, her shoulders slumping with defeat. “Fine. I did banish you.”

  “You’ve done it twice.”

  She sighed and then nodded. “Yes, twice.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated, and then said, “Because I was embarrassed.”

  He felt as though he’d been punched in the face, but he controlled his expression, lifted his glass and sipped, savoring the cognac the way it deserved.

  “I apologize for embarrassing you.”

  “What? No! Of course I’m not embarrassed about you.”

  “Oh, so you’d like to make our—” Joss searched for the correct word, but couldn’t find one. “Our whatever it is generally known.”

  She glared at him. “You’re being purposely obtuse.”

  He sipped his drink.

  “I meant I was embarrassed about what happened, of course.”

  “And what did happen?”

  Color invaded her pale cheeks and her chin dropped. “You want me to tell you what embarr
assed me?”

  ​Joss actually wanted to know what the hell she wanted from him.

  ​But now that she’d brought it up, he decided that hearing her describe what he’d done—in detail—would be more amusing than arguing with her. He nodded slowly.

  Her mouth twitched at the corners, until she could not hold back a smile. “I think you just want to hear me say wicked things.”

  Joss kept nodding and she laughed.

  The sound was so unexpected, so delicious, that he wanted to savor it more thoroughly than the liquor in his glass.

  She set aside her drink and stood, her hands going to the belt of her dressing gown. “I don’t think I would be very good at saying wicked things.” Her fingers loosened the sash and then parted the robe.

  Joss, who’d been erect since opening the door, sat up straight.

  She gave an elegant shrug and the silk slid to the ground, puddling around her feet like rich crème.

  Her nightgown had been spun by angels—or perhaps the Devil Himself. It was gossamer thin, twin rows of lace running from her shoulders down to the hem, falling just so across the hardened tips of her breasts.

  He realized she’d stilled and looked up at her face.

  “I’m probably not even very good at doing wicked things. But perhaps . . .” She chewed her lip.

  “Perhaps?” Joss prodded, his voice like the rasp of a dull saw.

  “Perhaps you might tell me how to . . . please you.”

  A shudder rocked his body and his shaft throbbed painfully hard.

  “I’ve been selfish,” she said, her voice breathy. “Taking from you without giving.”

  Joss could have told her that was a bloody lie; kneeling for her the last time had been one of the best experiences of his life.

  No, it hadn’t been the lack of an orgasm that had left him angry and empty, but the knowledge that sexual gratification was all she’d ever want from him.

  “I want to give you the same pleasure.”

  It was all he could do to calm his breathing enough to speak.

  “Take off your nightgown.”

  It was her turn to shudder, her face flushing at his tone of command, just as she had the last time.

  Her shaky hands moved to the high neck of her gown and began the long, sensual process of undoing the tiny buttons. Her hands weren’t the only ones shaking and he put down his glass, focusing all his attention on the fantasy unfolding in front of him.