Her lips parted slightly and he deepened the kiss. Her taste and smell intoxicated him and it wasn’t until he felt her stiffen under him and heard her little sound almost of pain that he realised he was half on her in the darkened carriage.
He lifted his head and dropped his arms. ‘I beg your pardon.’ He moved away from her, trying to regain his senses.
‘There is no need to under the circumstances. It was just my reticule was under me. I think I sat on a pin.’
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. It was the merest of pin-pricks.’
Her voice was calm, too calm, whereas he felt as if he was on fire. He moved back to his seat across from her. What the devil was wrong with him? He’d nearly lost control of himself, attacking her with the loss of restraint of a callow youth with his first love.
That was not part of his plan. He had no intention of relinquishing control. He might desire her, but he intended to keep it firmly in check with no other complicating emotions.
Justin realised the carriage had halted in front of his house. He stepped down first and then helped her out.
He kept his voice and expression as cool as hers as he escorted her up the steps of his townhouse and into the entry hall. But he did not feel nearly as cool inside when he said, ‘We can go to my apartments.’ His voice came out rougher than he’d intended as he held out his hand.
She nodded and that was when he saw the apprehension in her eyes. It was gone quickly, but there was no mistaking it or the tremor of her hand as his closed around it. He realised then that she was not nearly as calm as she appeared to be. In fact, just the opposite. She was frightened. Which, whether he liked it or not, would complicate everything.
Her mouth dry, Belle glanced at Justin as they climbed the winding staircase. His expression was brooding. He had said little since he had kissed her in the carriage and then apologised, which had completely confused her. His manner had been polite almost as if she was a stranger he found himself entertaining, certainly not that of a potential lover.
He pushed open a door and she found herself in a darkened bedchamber. Only the light of the full moon provided any illumination. Her legs had quit trembling and she found she was detached, the way she had been when with Lucien. With a calm indifference she noted the bed was simple and old-fashioned with brocade hangings and there was a small table next to the bed and that the wardrobe was plain. A portrait hung over the mantelpiece. He put the candle down on the small stand and then turned to look at her. ‘Do you want more light?’
‘No. This will be adequate.’ She moved towards him. ‘What would you like me to do? Should I undress?’
‘No.’ His eyes swept over her face and then narrowed. ‘Are you always this aloof when you are with your lovers?’
‘I have never had any lovers.’
‘No? Then what of the man you mentioned before? The man who taught you that physical intimacy and love are not the same?’ His voice had a hardness to it.
She looked at him, surprised, and then remembered what she had said to him in her anger. ‘I was referring to Lucien.’
‘Lucien?’
‘Yes. My husband. I have never been with anyone but him.’
‘Were you in love with him?’ he asked harshly.
She looked away. ‘I do not wish to discuss Lucien.’
‘No.’ He moved away from her. ‘I have changed my mind. You may undress now.’
She looked up and realised he had come to lean against the bed post. His arms were folded, but the shadows prevented her from seeing his face. But she knew one thing, he was going to watch her.
Having no clue how to proceed, she finally sat down on the bed and pulled off her gloves. She placed them on the table near the bed and then bent down to remove her slippers. Her hand trembled as she untied the laces and then slipped them off. She pulled up her skirt as far as she could without baring her entire leg and started to unroll her silk stockings. She kept her eyes on the task, her face heating with unwelcome colour. She managed to get both stockings off and then rose.
Did he expect her to unlace her own dress? She had only attempted to do so a few times in her entire life. She forced herself to look at him. ‘I do not think I can undo the laces of my dress myself.’ Her voice did not sound at all like her own.
‘I’ll do it. Come here.’
She came to stand in front of him and felt his fingers at her back, cool as they brushed her bare skin. She closed her eyes as he undid the fastenings of her dress, trying to quell the disturbing sensations his touch wrought in her. And then her silk gown was falling from her shoulders and his hands were at her hips sliding the material so that it pooled at her feet.
She heard him catch his breath. ‘Turn around, Belle.’ His voice was husky with desire.
She did and resisted the urge to close her eyes as he looked at her. She felt vulnerable and stripped of everything as his darkening gaze rested on the mounds of her breasts pushed high by the stays. His eyes travelled to the curve of her hips and she felt almost faint with apprehension.
‘You are so damnably beautiful.’ He sounded almost reluctant to admit it. ‘Take the pins from your hair. I want to see it around your shoulders.’
She hesitated and then lifted her hands to her hair. Her fingers shook as she removed them and she felt her hair falling to brush her bare shoulders. She put the pins on the table with her gloves and then turned. He still watched her. ‘What do you want me to do now?’ she asked. At least this time her voice was more contained and normal. She would get through this. Nothing he did could be any worse than being with Lucien.
He stared at her and blinked almost as if he had awoken from a trance. ‘Do next? My dear Belle, does nothing shake your composure? You are standing in front of me half-dressed and you still sound as if you are inquiring whether I would like a cup of tea. Does it not fluster you in the least that I want to take you to my bed and ravish you until dawn?’
She started. ‘Until dawn? I rather thought we would be finished within an hour. Perhaps two at the most.’
His smile was dangerous. ‘An hour or two? That is not nearly enough time.’
‘But whatever does one do for so long?’
He stepped towards her and she found herself backed up against the bed. ‘That, my sweet Belle, is what I intend to show you.’
She forced herself to remain still, her eyes on his face. He looked rather angry and his eyes had a wild glitter. Her heart was beating so quickly she felt almost dizzy and her legs trembled. Justin’s hand cupped the back of her head and he brought his mouth down on hers in a hard, possessive kiss. She gasped and then stilled as his mouth moved over hers, demanding her surrender. His arms locked her to his hard chest and she fought to force the panic down, forced her mind to go elsewhere as she had done with Lucien. So when his arms fell away, she felt completely disorientated. ‘Damn it, Belle,’ he said harshly. ‘This is not what I want.’
Her eyes opened and she stared at him. ‘What is wrong?’
He took a pace away from her and ran a hand through his hair. ‘This. I feel as if I’m about to commit a rape. I cannot force you to my bed.’
‘But you are not. I am willing.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Are you? Then why did I have the sense you were terrified when I held you? I thought you were about to swoon in my arms.’
She looked away, mortified and ashamed. ‘I do not like to be held so tightly. I feel as if I cannot breathe.’ Which was not exactly a lie.
‘Is that all?’ he demanded.
‘Yes.’ She forced herself to look at him. ‘So, if you wish to proceed, I am more than willing.’
‘Not with you so terrified. What the hell did Milborne do to you?’
‘Nothing.’ She rubbed her arms where his hands had grasped her. ‘I did not like the marriage bed at all. He left me in no doubt that he found me quite inadequate, although he assured me that his mistresses made up for my lack. I fear, however, you will find me a poor m
istress, which is why I think it best if we proceed to the point quickly and then I can go home.’
‘No.’
She glanced up at him. The anger in his face stunned her. She backed up a pace and stared at him.
His face was dark. ‘I’ve no intention of taking you while you lie there forcing yourself to submit. I am not that base. When you come to my bed it will pleasure you as much as it pleasures me.’
‘It is really not necessary.’ Oh, lord. She did not want to find out what he meant by pleasure. She wanted to stay as uninvolved as possible and then, after she paid her debts, return to her quiet life.
‘Oh, but it is.’ The menace in his voice coupled with the look in his eye told her he had no intention of letting this go.
With growing trepidation she watched as he sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. Then he deliberately removed his stockings. He stood and started to shrug out of his evening coat.
‘Wh…what are you doing?’ Surely he wasn’t planning to strip in front of her? Not even Lucien had done that.
‘Merely levelling the field.’ He removed his coat and then his waistcoat followed. He picked them up and draped them over a chair and then picked up her gown from the floor and dropped it carelessly on top of his clothing. She swallowed as he came towards her and took a step back. Her knees hit the bed and she sat down abruptly. With a smooth movement he joined her.
‘Good. This is where we start.’ His thigh pressed into hers as he squarely met her eyes. ‘I’ll wager that by the end of this lesson you will not be so eager to quit my bed.’
‘What lesson?’
‘The lesson we are about to start. The lesson where I teach you what a man wants in a mistress.’ A peculiar little smile touched his mouth.
She swallowed again. ‘I don’t really want any such lessons. I do not plan to do this again.’
‘That does not matter,’ he said softly. His hand lightly brushed her cheek and then he tilted her chin up. ‘I am going to kiss you. We’ll start there.’
‘No—’ Her protest was silenced by his mouth. She braced herself, expecting the same harsh assault as before, but instead his lips moved over hers in gentle exploration. One hand cupped the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. With some surprise, she realised the sensation of his mouth on hers was not at all unpleasant. Her lips parted under the light pressure and then he pulled her more firmly against him.
His tongue slipped inside. Instead of the revulsion she had felt with Lucien, she found the sensation pleasurable. She tentatively touched his tongue with her own. Justin made a sound almost like a groan in his throat and his kiss deepened. Instead of pulling away, she pressed against him.
Then his mouth left her neck and was placing a fiery trail of kisses down it to the soft exposed skin of her breasts.
He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a dazed expression. ‘I think you are ready for the next lesson,’ he whispered. ‘But first this must come off.’ His hand brushed her stays. ‘Turn around.’
She obeyed, wondering what she was doing. Her lips felt swollen and her body curiously languid. The touch of his fingers as he undid the laces made her feel peculiar. Her stays fell away. One arm came around her and pulled her against him and through the thin linen of her shift she could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her back. He began to kiss her neck again, but when his free hand cupped her breast, she stiffened.
His hand fell away. ‘What is it?’ he asked. His breath was warm on her cheek. ‘Do you not like that?’
‘I do not mind. Please go on.’ Her face was suffused with colour and she was glad he could not see her. She supposed it was something women liked or at least were expected to tolerate but she had always felt violated.
His hand left her breast. ‘Not if you do not like it. But do you like this?’ He caressed her stomach through her shift in gentle, languorous circles. A slow heat began to grow in her and she pressed back against him. When his hand circled closer to the juncture of her thighs, she grabbed it. But then remembered she was supposed to let him do these things to her so her hand fell away.
He did not seem to notice. ‘We can lie down now.’ And then she was on her back and he was over her. She closed her eyes and waited for him to lift her shift but instead he stroked her face. And then he was kissing her again in that slow exploratory way as if he had all the time in the world.
Belle’s arms came around his shoulders and she felt the hard muscles of his back through his shirt. Her hand moved up and entangled in his thick hair. Her head seemed to spin and she was kissing him back. She was vaguely aware that his hand was again caressing her stomach and hips, creating exquisite sensation. His hand moved lower and she forced herself to relax. But she could not quite help her little start of surprise when he began to caress her most private parts. ‘Shh…’ he said against her mouth. His fingers were stroking her and despite the barrier of her shift, she could feel a warm growing heaviness between her thighs. His tongue was teasing hers and his hand kept its steady slow rhythmic caress. She fought the urge to part her legs but the spiral of sensation seemed to be growing smaller and smaller and focused on where his hand was. She pressed against him and then cried out as the heaviness shattered into an exquisite pleasure.
He withdrew his hand and lifted his head. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the triumph he must feel over her surrender. Worse, he had not even had to remove all of her clothes. Or his.
‘Belle.’ She felt his weight shift away from her.
She opened her eyes. Justin sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I believe that is enough of a lesson for tonight. I will help you dress and then take you home.’ His voice was polite.
‘Very well.’ She sat up, trying to tell herself she should be grateful for his manner, that he was not rubbing in his victory, but instead she felt confused.
He helped her dress, his movements so efficient she thought he must do this often, hardly a pleasing notion.
‘Damn,’ he muttered.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘I’ve managed to miss a fastening. I’ll have to start again.’
‘No!’ She turned around, not wanting to have him touch her any more than necessary. ‘It does not matter.’
He scowled. ‘But there’s a gap in the back.’
‘Since I am only going home and not out in public it hardly matters. I will be taking it off again anyway.’ Although her maid would probably wonder what she had done. But it was too late for any of those considerations now.
‘Always so practical.’
She had no idea whether it was a compliment or not. She followed him down the stairs and then he fetched her shawl. He had fallen into another brooding silence and she had no idea what he was thinking. He said nothing until he had helped her from the carriage. ‘I will leave for Surrey tomorrow.’
‘To get your horse?’
‘Yes. I will return the day after. I will call on you then.’
‘As it pleases you. Good night, your Grace.’ She had started to leave when he caught her hand and pulled her around to face him.
‘It does please me. As you did tonight. We’ll finish the rest of the lessons when I return.’ He cupped her chin and brushed her mouth quickly with his. ‘Goodnight, Belle.’
‘Goodnight,’ she whispered and turned and ran up the steps without looking back.
Chapter Six
Belle had thought that with him gone some sort of normality might return despite the loss of Maria and Chloe.
But that her life had been irrevocably altered became quite apparent the very next day when she went to find a new pair of gloves. She had made her purchase and was about to step out of the shop door when Lady Blanchard and Mrs Cunningham entered. There were no smiles on their faces when they saw her and Mrs Cunningham, who was usually quite pleasant, had a distinctly frosty look in her eye. Their acknowledgement was so brief that they might as well have cut her.
She t
hought it must be her imagination, however, when she was at William’s Lane Library and Mrs Barry greeted her politely enough. But was there a speculation in the other woman’s eye that she had not noticed before? Particularly when she asked if Belle had enjoyed last night’s performance. In fact, as the conversation progressed, Mrs Barry’s comments seemed to border on the impertinent. Belle finally made her escape by claiming she had another appointment.
Once in her carriage, she tried to tell herself that Mrs Barry was a notorious gossip and that she always asked questions that were a trifle presumptuous. But she could not shake off the sense that something was very wrong.
With a start, she realised her carriage had stopped in front of her house. She took her parcels and stepped down. Mrs Bates opened the door. ‘Lord Ralston is waiting for you. In the drawing room.’ Her mouth was puckered with disapproval.
Belle handed Mrs Bates her parcels and went directly to the drawing room. She might as well see Arthur straight away instead of putting off the unpleasant task. He sat in one of the wing chairs near the window. He looked up when she entered and stood. ‘Good day, Belle.’
‘Hello, Arthur. Mrs Bates said you were here.’ She came into the room and removed her bonnet.
‘Yes.’ He clasped his hands behind his back and frowned at her. ‘I have come to speak to you about last night. You cannot imagine how shocked I was to see you in Westmore’s box.’
‘Were you?’
‘Most certainly. I would like to know why you would do such a rash and ill-advised thing. I have no doubt he has designs on your virtue.’ He paced away from her and then looked back. ‘I will own I was mistaken. I thought he wished to contract a proper alliance with Chloe. Instead I see he wishes an improper alliance with you.’ His face showed distaste. ‘You are foolish beyond belief if you think he intends to offer you marriage.’
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