Lord Stanhope's Improper Proposal

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by Cerise DeLand


  “Indeed, Sir Henry,” she replied to Adam’s surprise. “His calculations on regularity of transport of foodstuffs and ammunition are ones you should take heed of.”

  Ulmsly laughed. “Know them, do you?”

  She nodded. “My business is to understand my husband’s positions.”

  “I think you are right, madam! And so we shall heed them, too. See you next Wednesday, Adam. Mrs. Stanhope. Pray, excuse me. Wonderful to talk with you.”

  He was no sooner gone than Adam stared into Felice’s golden eyes and demanded an explanation. “How do you know about my views of supply?”

  She lifted one elegant, creamy and nearly bare shoulder. “I read the papers.”

  He was gratified she cared about such things. “Come with me to the garden.”

  “And if I do not wish to come?”

  “I shall throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

  “You would not dare!”

  He made a move to pick her up, and she yelped.

  “I’m coming,” she told him between tight lips. “Take my arm.”

  Chapter Four

  Her perfume swirled around him. Lilacs? Lilies? Who the hell knew? Whatever it was, he inhaled it and understood his sanity had not survived the assault. As they had traversed the terrace and navigated the maze of boxwoods, his temper rose.

  With the moonlight brilliant and the breeze bustling through the evergreens, he drew Felice through the lanes of the complex maze and found a stone bench.

  “Please sit down, Fee.” He was going to try to be more than civil. After all, he had rehearsed this so many times, he knew the speech by heart. But the way Fee looked, the way she had changed her appearance unnerved him. Her hair made him wonder about the texture as her curls ruffled in the wind. Her smile made him question if he had truly tasted those lips on their wedding day. Her gown made him ponder what it would be like to take it off her, measure those marvelous breasts in his hands and suck her nipples again. And if he once more did that, would not he want to insert his very hard and heavy cock inside that wet warm chat of hers?

  “I am fortunate to have found you,” he declared, “and only by chance. You have done a good job of sequestering yourself. Why the hell have you been with my aunt Amaryllis?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “She invited me.”

  “How? When?”

  “The day after I returned from Dover,” she said in a voice he could barely hear. “A friend of hers saw me engage a room in a small lodging house in Jermyn Street and told her. She came to call on me and insisted I be her guest.”

  “I am grateful to her,” he declared. “She kept you safe and secure.”

  “And was discreet about it, too.”

  “Damnably so! I could not find you!”

  “You looked?” she asked, her luminous eyes wide and quite stunned.

  “Of course, I did. I worried.”

  “Sweet of you. But there was no need. Aunt was kind.”

  “For that, too, I owe her great thanks. Did she inspire you to buy the new wardrobe?”

  “To change my hair, as well. Do you like it?”

  “I do,” he admitted. “I suppose she also told you to send me your bills?”

  She threw him a merry smile. “That she did.”

  “I do not begrudge you paper or books or even a new wardrobe. You are my wife. But to come out in public now, with Miss Proper mocking me—”

  She bristled and turned her face up to his. “I will not be a prisoner of your decisions or your curse. You pushed me aside, Adam.”

  “I did it for your own happiness.”

  “And your own freedom.” She lifted her chin, valor suffusing her expression even though tears swam in her eyes.

  “Fee! You think I have mistresses?” He was shocked she thought that of him.

  “Don’t you?”

  “No! I’ve not had one since last winter. I gave her up long before I saw you again at the Billings’. The cursed Miss Proper should write that instead of the drivel she pens!”

  Fee blew a gust of air up to ruffle her bangs. “Ending an arrangement with another woman is too bland a story to sell papers,” she grumbled then rolled a shoulder. “It’s cold out here. Say what you want and be done.”

  He removed his coat and whirled it around her shoulders. But he could not seem to let her go and by the lapels, drew her against him. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Fee.”

  “Felice,” she corrected him, but when he shook his head, she affirmed, “My name is Felice.”

  “Very well.” He swallowed, closed his eyes. “I do not wish to hurt you…Felice.”

  Her bosom heaved. Her scent rose up to his nostrils and made him tremble with want and shame. The look in her eyes castigated him for his behavior. “Darling, I don’t mind paying your bills. Hell, I’ll buy a hundred gowns. If they are all as gorgeous as this one, I won’t pinch a penny.”

  She snorted. “Now you are being ridiculous.”

  “No, I’m not.” With one hand, he combed her hair back from her cheeks. Her curls twined about his fingers like strands of Sian silk. Her voluptuous lips pursed, tormenting him. Did he suddenly want the one woman he should not have? Who could not make him happy? “This is madness.”

  “What is?” She searched his gaze. “To live apart?”

  “No. Yes!” Her lips were distracting him, befuddling his logic. And he did have logic for this, didn’t he?

  “Adam, it should be clear to you now that I have more pride than to accept a marriage in name only.”

  “I made a mistake.” He hauled her closer, and the lightning shock of her body against his brought back memories of their embrace in the inn in Dover. “I am so sorry and I wish I could undo all this. But the curse is working and—”

  “Ever the curse.” She pushed him away. “I will hear no more of it. Foolishness like that is for idiots.”

  He grabbed her, pressing her nearer. The warmth of her, the way her curves fit his so snugly made him suppress a moan. “Tell me you are happy as you are.”

  She stuck her nose in the air even as fresh tears landed on her lower lashes. But she glared at him. “Tell me you are happy as you are!”

  “Hell, no!” he roared. “I worry about you. Where you are? How you are? I scoured the town for you. Bath, too. Then I find you here, out in the world, looking ravishing and too damn appealing. ” He wanted to have her, be insider her. Her body set his so aflame. “Holding you does horrible things to me.”

  She tried to step backwards. “So don’t.”

  He wouldn’t let her go.

  “If the curse is working,” she said on a wisp of sound, “why are you compelled to embrace me?”

  He sent his fingers through her short hair. “Part of the curse is an unavoidable urgency to take the other.”

  “To bed?” she asked, bewildered but thrilled at the same time.

  “Yes, yes,” he replied, her mouth too close. “Conflicting but true.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. Her breasts brushed his chest. “What happens if the couple fights the urge?”

  His lips descended to hers. Damn, they were plush as eiderdown.

  “Adam?” she asked between meetings of their lips. “What happens if you…”

  He took her mouth, held her head securely as he ravished her completely, lips and tongue and teeth. God, she felt divine.

  “Oh. That’s what happens,” she sighed, her eyes shining in the moonlight. “Stunning. May we do that again?”

  He growled and draped her backward over his arm. “Christ, yes,” he murmured as he sampled her willing mouth once more. “This, too.” He sent kisses down her chin, to her throat and at the center of her cleavage. “You smell of roses.” His fingers found a nipple beneath the delicate fabric of her gown. “Your breasts look like dark, rich flowers.” His mouth found her areola and sucked it into his mouth. “Did you know?”

  She cried out. “Never.”

  “And this.” He br
aced himself against the bench with one leg while he gathered up her skirts with the other. “I have to feel how you want me here.”

  He found her nether hair, light and frothy, traced her seam and drove one long finger up into her sopping wet channel. He cursed, kissed her on the lips and knew the utter lunacy he’d sampled in the inn in Dover.

  “Yes, have me and damn the curse!” She wiggled up against him, clutching his lapels.

  The night, the music from the ballroom and her perfume blended into a craving he did not understand. He set her to the bench, undid his flies, bent and lifted her hem to expose her legs. Pretty, pink, beribboned garters held up her stockings. Lovely the way they framed her taut thighs. Stunning that she wore no drawers and did not blanch as he stared at the dark feathering of her pussy. He bent and put his mouth to her chat, his tongue intruding for a sample of her heavy musk.

  She bucked and he soothed her.

  “There, there, you shall have more.” And so shall I. He reached inside his breeches, his cock springing free of the confines. He stroked it once. She shuddered. Smiling, he could not resist another taste of her cream. He spread her labia wide and in the moonlight, saw how her body glistened in want. Growling, he sent his tongue inside her channel.

  She mewled and begged for more.

  He gave it, his strong tongue laving her thick juices as his fingers sought her tender button.

  Opened wide for him, she trembled. “Adam, please.”

  “I know, my darling,” he crooned and bent to suck her swollen bud into his mouth. As she ground her teeth, he rose to watch her face transformed by ecstasy. “You like my mouth on you.

  And I?” He bent to kiss her nub again. “I love to eat you. You are so giving.”

  “Oh!” She grabbed his shoulders. “What is this inside me? A coiling, a storm.”

  “You have not felt this before?”

  “Never.”

  Joy overwhelmed him. “This is the energy, the drive to take me inside you.” He sucked on her tiny bud once, twice, three times until to his delight and shock, she broke apart in an orgasm that had her keening. If he could make her come like that with only his mouth, what would she do naked in his bed with his cock buried deep inside her?

  She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Oh, this is wonderful! Umm. Heavenly!”

  He sent two fingers up inside her slick channel.

  “Fee,” he moaned, his head dropped to her lower abdomen. From here, he could inhale again the aroma of her desire for him, and in gratitude, he stroked her molten core. “You flow like summer rain. I need to be inside you. Now.” He never rushed a partner, but this sudden urgency was startling and demanding.

  “Adam,” she beseeched him as her fingers reached between her legs and searched for his shaft. “There. Oh, my, it is large, isn’t it? Come put that inside me.”

  He rose up on his knees then up to his feet. He brushed back her skirts, hooked her legs up over his forearms and positioned his cock at the entrance to her beautiful cunt. This position he adored was one he’d learned quite young. Meant for a woman who gave her body to her lover with endless cream flowing over her lips and coating her thighs. He had the tip of his penis just at the opening to her dark entrance and conversation drifted their way.

  He froze.

  “Adam, Adam.” Fee was begging him in a whisper. “Don’t stop. I—”

  “Quiet, darling.”

  Voices became louder. And headed their way.

  He flipped her skirts down. “Fee, someone is coming.”

  “No!” she moaned and rather loudly, too.

  He winced, the denial of paradise with her a torment in his groin. “We will continue—”

  “Promise?” She sat up with his help, looking at him dazed.

  “Absolutely!”

  She blinked, her attention suddenly on his very straight, very ready and very unhappy cock. “My,” she exclaimed and licked her lower lip. “That is lovely.”

  “You are making me daft,” he muttered, reassembled his flies and tried to get her to stand.

  When she did, her gaze was clear and riveted on him. “Take me home with you.”

  Pulling her against him, he floated in a haze of sexual need. When he had planned to seduce her, he had expected she to be the only one enchanted. “Yes, by god.”

  “No one will know,” she offered like a conspirator. “Not anyone. Not even The curse.”

  Chuckling, he kissed her mouth.

  “So that’s how I taste?” she murmured, eyes closed, her tongue tracing her lips. “How do you taste?”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. What a treasure she was. “Want to learn?”

  “I do! Yes, yes. Why not?”

  “No one will know,” he said, though he didn’t have the mindfulness at the moment to understand why he said that.

  “No one will care,” she replied, as she nestled against him, and he led her from the maze.

  He smiled, too damn pleased with himself and his desire to feast on her. He knew he courted disaster to take her home, to his bed and another orgasm. But hell, he knew now that whatever she had felt as he’d eaten her luscious pussy and stroked her core, he had to have a piece of her the way a man should. The way a husband should. The way he was entitled. Damn the curse! Its chaos was working, but at the moment, he did not care. If they were meant to suffer more than they had already, it was sheer torment to be without her now.

  They rounded the side of the house, found one of Wingate’s footmen and told him to find Adam’s coach. Within minutes, Adam’s servant pulled up the brougham. Once the door was closed, Felice came willingly to his arms.

  “Kiss me again,” she pleaded, her elegant fingers splaying up into the curls at the back of his head. “I’ve wondered what your flavor was. Licorice? Molasses?” She put her mouth to his and enjoyed his texture then let her tongue plunge inside.

  “Felice,” he murmured as he fondled one peaking nipple though her gown, “you undo my resolve to be courteous and slow. I believe you are a witch.”

  She threw her head back for a full-throated laugh. “Comes with curses.”

  He chuckled with her. “We’re ruining your dress.”

  “You’ll buy me another.”

  “I will give you anything you want,” he whispered as she caressed his thigh.

  “Anything?”

  Shocked to laughter, he nodded. “Tell me what you wish.”

  A light flashed in her eyes. “An education in the art of love.”

  The coach rolled to a stop. The horses stomped and snorted.

  Stunned, Adam stared at her. She was his wife. His very charming, giving wife. She seemed sensual, too. But he had been duped once before. His instinct here however said she spoke the truth.

  The coachman knocked on the door. “Sir?”

  “Thank you, Brown,” Adam called to his coachman, but to Fee, he warned, “Be aware that my gift to you will be a generous one to myself, as well. It is most improper to take advantage of a woman.”

  “I am not just any woman. I am your wife, and I wish a mutual pleasure for us, Adam.”

  She could not have spoken more persuasive words. He grasped her hand and kissed it.

  Then two of them straightened their clothes quickly. Once repaired, he rapped on the door for Brown to open it. He descended and held out his hand for Felice. “You may brush down the horses and retire for the evening, Brown.”

  The man flashed him an astonished look.

  Adam, for all his lust and haste to get Fee into his bed, understood his man’s sudden reluctance to proceed. “This is Mrs. Stanhope, Brown. She will be spending the evening.”

  His servant checked Fee’s expression. She summoned the ability to smile politely at the man and acknowledge him suitably as the lady of the household should, despite the rather odd circumstances of their introduction. Turning with a regal demeanor, she gathered up her skirts and preceded Adam to his front door.

  He grinned at her social grac
es.

  In the morning, I shall worry about what we have done. But for now, Adam flung open the door to his townhouse, whisked Fee up in his arms and told the butler to go to bed. The placid servant nodded and shut the door as Adam bounded up the stairs to his bedroom.

  Yes, damn the curse, for one night. He’d take a bit of bliss for himself and make more for his wife, as well, as he educated her in the finer arts of making love.

  Chapter Five

  Felice hung on to Adam with feral hunger. She’d meant to be his good and obedient wife, in bed and out. She’d imagined he might care for her, like her as a bed partner beyond the pleasantries of their friendship. But this wildness in him thrilled her.

  As he let her slide down his torso while he opened his bedroom door, she leaned against him and went eagerly with him as he led her inside. But she came to a halt, surveying his sanctuary. A Stanhope bedroom. A legendary den of private pleasures. The master suite of a Stanhope was reputed to be the one place on earth a woman could indulge in the most mindless intimacies she could imagine. If some women rued the day they entered one and fell in love with a Stanhope, far too many regaled others with the tales of decadence. True, those women had been paramours. Not wives of Stanhopes. Never wives.

  Adam cupped her face. “Felice, do you now have second thoughts?”

  Tearing her gaze from the red velvet canopy and counterpane over the massive bed, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “No. Not I. I thought about my decision to marry you long and hard. I am committed to you and making a happy marriage.”

  He swept one arm around her waist and grinning against her mouth said, “I am delighted, too, you are willing to brave a man many call wild.”

  “Mr. Wild, I’ve heard of you. A talented politician. But brash, eager and tormenting to women. Just like your brothers.”

  “My brothers, Arrogant and Difficult?”

  She chuckled. “What’s in a name? I know they have other redeeming qualities, just as you do.”

  He walked backwards, leading her further into the room rich in ruby velvets and damask, punctuated by gold appointments. “Contrary to what you may have heard or read, no other woman has ever been here. Not in this room and not in my bed.”

 

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