by Janet Kent
“Turn around,” he ordered.
She pivoted in a slow circle. Strong hands gripped her waist and tumbled her into his lap. Giggling in surprise, she tried to look at him, but his arms encircled her in a quick, fierce hug.
“I was afraid you weren’t coming,” he admitted, self-mocking in his voice.
Alicia twisted her body so that her bent knees hung over the left arm of the chair, letting her legs dangle against the side. She reached up in the darkness, cupping his face in her hands. The thick leather of his mask felt smooth and soft against her fingertips, and the invisible stubble on his cheeks prickled her palms. Copying one of his oft-repeated moves, she rubbed the tip of her nose against his.
“Never,” she repeated.
He slanted his head so that her lips crushed his and he opened his mouth beneath hers. She needed no further invitation to explore its depths with her tongue, feeling cherished and powerful at the same time.
As they kissed, his right hand massaged her shoulders and back. When the hand resting on her knee slid up her thigh, crossed her stomach, and hovered uncertainly over her breast, Alicia leaned into his touch, pressing his lips against hers and his palm against the thin fabric covering her swelling breast.
Expert fingers cupped the soft weight and brushed against the straining nipple. Rogue peppered a row of kisses along the edge of her jaw and down the line of her throat, and before Alicia realized he’d undone her nightdress, he bent his head and suckled the bare breast still cupped in his hand, teasing the nipple with his teeth.
Alicia tangled his hair in her fingers, trying not to scream with pleasure. She was pretty sure she’d crossed the line separating stolen kisses from shameless impropriety, but oh, God, his tongue felt so good against her naked skin and his fingers… What was he doing with his fingers?
Rogue’s right hand inched around her waist and hiked her skirt up to her hips. Knowing she was completely bare underneath, Alicia tried to protest but he captured her mouth with searing kisses and she forgot to think at all.
While one hand continued to play with the exposed breast, the other hand crept along her leg, stroking the soft skin of her naked thigh, each stroke slightly higher than the last. A strange tension began to coil in her stomach as his fingers brushed closer and closer, and she began to wish–
Before the thought completely formulated, the tips of his fingers were there, tickling the wet curls between her thighs. Alicia writhed in his arms, rubbing her breast against his palm, bucking her hips against the teasing torture of his fingers, and gasping against his mouth.
His fingers parted her and rubbed against the swollen nub inside until Alicia felt the storm inside of her explode, her thighs trapping his hand between her legs as she convulsed around his fingers. Rogue captured her muffled scream with his open-mouth kisses and held her until her body quieted.
Shaking, Alicia clung to his broad shoulders, barely noticing when he smoothed down her skirts and refastened her nightdress. She sagged against his chest, trembling with pleasure and astonishment.
Crooning soft nonsense words into her neck, he held her close to him long after she felt her body relax in his arms.
“Elizabeth?” he asked, his cheek pressed against hers.
“Yes?” she whispered, glorying in the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her.
“I’d like to court you, if I may.”
Startled, Alicia jerked her head back far enough to squint at his face in the darkness. Not for the first time, she wished she could see his eyes.
“Not right now,” he said in a droll tone, “Soon. I’d like to come to you as I really am. As a man. May I?”
Alicia opened her mouth but no sound came out.
He brushed his lips against her cheek so that she could feel him smile. “Don’t answer now. Think about it. Let me know the next time we meet.”
She nodded dumbly, her mind fracturing in a thousand directions.
In one movement, he scooped her up, stood, and placed her on her feet. “You don’t know how sorry I am that I cannot stay longer,” he murmured. “I’ll return as soon as I can, but I must leave before dawn breaks. Goodbye, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose and disappeared through the door.
Alicia fell back into the chair in a heap of tangled limbs. What was she going to do?
###
By seven o’clock the next evening, she still hadn’t come up with a satisfactory answer to Rogue’s question. Her maid pushed and prodded her into her newest gown, but Alicia’s thoughts were far from the Thornwaite’s engagement that night. When she’d accepted the invitation, she’d had no way to know her mind would still be reeling from a very close call with lovemaking.
An incredible, amazing, ridiculously romantic bout of love-play with an irresistible masked rogue, who wanted to make the relationship permanent. Alicia shuddered with remembered delight at the feel of his fingers against her skin, the touch of his tongue against her–
“Miss Kinsey, if you don’t hold still,” warned Jenny.
“Sorry,” Alicia muttered with a guilty half-smile. Friends would be arriving in the next hour to take her with them to the Thornwaite’s, since Louis and Papa were out of town. She had to stop thinking about Rogue.
But, oh, how could she? He was perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but how disappointing could his true persona be? He wanted to meet her, to court her in truth. And why not? He was a damn sight better than Louis. Even if he was dirt poor and not nearly as striking without the mask, she didn’t care. He liked her for her.
Of course, he didn’t know she was her. He thought she was Elizabeth. Well, what’s in a name? It could hardly make a difference to him. After all, she only knew him as Rogue. Alicia shrugged and earned another pinch from Jenny.
Louis would be angry, but after his efforts to ruin her yesterday, she didn’t give a fig about what he thought. With the right man, a woman didn’t need to be forced. She made a little wicked grin. With Rogue, she’d been unabashedly eager.
If he did press his suit, all her problems would be solved. She’d have a marriage based on love, respect, happiness. Passion.
Papa may not like such an unexpected turn of events, but he’d promised he’d reconsider giving her to Louis if she had another suitor. And here she was, late Thursday evening and less than two days remaining, with another suitor!
Tomorrow when Rogue returned, she’d have to tell him to present himself to her father at once. If he came first thing the following morning, he could arrive before Louis had a chance to monopolize Papa.
That is, she hoped he came tomorrow night. Alicia frowned. Time had run away from them and he’d left before they’d had a chance to plan their next assignation. Well, if he didn’t come Friday, he’d come Saturday instead, and she’d just have to tell Papa herself.
Alicia grimaced. Without Rogue there to back up her claims, that was one conversation unlikely to go well. He might even revoke her dowry, as he’d threatened. What if Papa cut off all ties and Rogue didn’t have a penny to his name? No matter. Love trumped all. They’d find a way through any obstacle as long as they had each other.
“There you are, miss. Beautiful,” Jenny proclaimed, handing her a mirror.
“Thank you,” Alicia murmured, giving her reflection a cursory glance. For once in her life, she wasn’t going hunting for suitors.
She’d finally found one.
###
Alicia relaxed in her chair as the men excused themselves to the adjoining room for their after-dinner drinks. She’d forgotten how nice supper parties were without Louis around to make a hash of everything.
Mr. Morrissey was here tonight, although he hadn’t been seated close enough to be a conversational partner at supper. If she got a chance to speak with him, she’d be sure to thank him again for his timely rescue from Louis at the last soirée.
He’d turned out to be a sweet man after all, even though she no longer needed to place him on her ill-fated prospective suitors list. Alic
ia smiled to herself. Thanks to Rogue’s whispered question, Mr. Morrissey had fallen out of the running for a race he hadn’t even known he participated in.
Her friends had teased her tonight for being quiet and introspective. She’d given the tantalizing reply, “I’ve got someone on my mind.” When they couldn’t pry any additional information from her, they left her alone for the most part, although they continued to shoot her inquisitive glances from time to time. Alicia couldn’t wait to tell them about Rogue, but she couldn’t breathe a word until they’d “met” in a proper fashion. Even then, she’d never be able to tell anyone the true story – except maybe her children or grandchildren someday.
When the men rejoined the women in one of the large sitting rooms, she sighed in relief. The party wouldn’t go on for more than another hour or two and she could go home and think about her delicious secret in private.
While the men filed back into the room, another door opened, letting in an all-too-familiar figure, his blue tails brushing his shins, his red hair sculpted in the latest wind-swept fashion, and his noxious perfume ruining the taste of her tea.
As though she reeled him in on a line, Louis made a beeline to her side and plopped into the chair next to her.
“Good day, cousin,” he said and smirked.
“What are you doing here?” she countered, without any pretension of enjoying his presence.
“Seeing you, obviously.” Louis fingered the folds of his cravat and affected a nonchalant posture. “Of course, I’ll no doubt see you tomorrow as well… when I drop by for Chadwick’s official permission to marry you.”
“He said Saturday, not Friday.”
“Well, what’s the difference?” Louis demanded in an exasperated voice. “I’m tired of waiting.”
“I could tell,” Alicia replied, her voice laced with ice.
“Oh, cousin. Are you still piqued with me about that little tiff in the garden? Aren’t you precious. Nothing came of it, you know.”
“No thanks to you.”
“Blame yourself,” Louis answered with an unrepentant shrug. “If you weren’t so damned stubborn. Who knew Chadwick would make me wait two weeks?”
“Well, they’re not up yet,” she muttered. “Leave me alone.”
“You’re not still holding out for a knight in shining armor, are you?” he asked with a condescending smirk. “Husbands are not prone to falling in love, and you are a fool to imagine otherwise.”
“Fat lot you know,” Alicia said and bared her teeth at him.
“I know a lot,” Louis countered with a pout. “I know it’s not fair for you to have all that you have, just due to the accident of birth.”
She frowned. “You want to marry me just to someday have Chadwick House?”
Louis rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about Chadwick House. Don’t be a ninny.”
“Do you expect me to believe it’s me you care about?”
He gave her a horrified look. “Of course not.”
Of course not. Alicia grimaced. She’d walked herself into that one.
“You do realize you must marry in order to be someone. You have no other prospects. You never did, and you never will. Without me, you’re nothing.”
Alicia leapt to her feet. “Go away,” she said, enunciating each word in as forceful a voice as she could muster. She glanced around the room for one of her friends, but each of the girls was engrossed in conversation and couldn’t come to her aid.
Louis tossed his head and showed no signs of leaving.
###
Ian happened to turn toward Alicia Kinsey’s direction just in time to see her frantic glance around the room. That blasted cousin of hers made some comment and she jumped up, looking like she was about to bolt – either that or slap her cousin in the face.
He was going to have to rescue her again.
Sighing, Ian loped over to perform yet another intervention. As he neared, he heard Larouche needling her in his inimitable whine.
“I don’t know why you think you’re so special. What was for supper, cousin? What was the main course? Was it duck? You like ducks, don’t you? What about–”
Ian walked right past the bickering couple, grabbing Miss Kinsey by the arm as he did so and towing her out of the room. She stumbled once when she turned to give Larouche an over-the-shoulder glare, but quickly regained her balance.
Out in the hall, he pushed her back to the wall and crossed his arms. “What is the deal with that scab? I thought I’d seen the last of his shenanigans two days ago.”
Her pinched expression betrayed her frustration. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it with a loud click of her teeth when she caught sight of a footman passing by.
Clenching his jaw, Ian took her by the arm again, headed back down the corridor, trying the handles of doors as he passed. The second one was unlocked and opened to a room filled with rows of uncomfortable-looking chairs and a large black piano in the corner. He led her to the back, pulled out the bench, and sat her down with her back to the keys.
“Now we’re alone. Tell me.”
“I want him to go away, but he doesn’t listen to me!” she cried, balling her fists in her lap.
“What exactly did you say to him?”
“I said, ‘Go away.’”
Ian inclined his head. “Seems clear enough.”
She sniffed. “That’s because you’re not stupid.”
“I appreciate that,” Ian said with a half-smile. As far as compliments went, being smarter than Louis Larouche was no great feat. “Why does he always badger you about supper?”
“What do you mean?” she asked with a too-innocent expression.
“‘What’s for supper, cousin?’” Ian mocked. “‘Did you try the coq au vin?’”
She stared at him through narrowed eyes and didn’t answer.
Ian threw out his hands in exasperation. He’d had his suspicions since the first, but now he was sure. “Why don’t you just tell him you don’t eat meat?” he demanded.
Alicia sighed. She gazed over his shoulder for a moment then patted his arm. “He already knows,” she said with a bitter smile. “Why do you think he brings it up all the time? He says it’s incredibly rude of me not to eat what the hostess offers, whether I’m vegetarian or not. I do like ducks,” she added with a self-deprecating chuckle, “but not like that.”
“Couldn’t you avoid offending the hosts by explaining the situation?”
“I can,” she agreed. “And I do when I have to. But I’ve no wish to be the main topic of conversation. Why should they be forced to know whether I ate it or not? I tend to avoid unnecessary confrontation. Perhaps I’m more passive than I ought to be. Yet another of my faults.”
“Come on, Alicia. No bouts of self-pity.” Ian tried to think of a way to cheer her. “I’m sure you have plenty of fine qualities.”
“Oh?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at him in a mockery of flirtation. “What would those be?”
“Well,” he answered, pretending to give the question great thought. “You have a nice nose. I could tell from the moment I looked at you that it had never been broken practicing pugilism.”
She tilted back her head to look down her nose at him, playing along. “It is a fine nose, isn’t it?” she agreed in haughty accents before spoiling the effect with a grin.
“And… your hair.”
“My hair?”
Ian paused, giving her a critical inspection. A pile of curls spilled from a coil on her head, and tiny ringlets were arranged in artful positions to frame her face. She looked gorgeous. “It’s yellow,” he answered in a decisive tone. “Quite yellow.”
“You’ll have to be more poetic than that, if you want to impress women.”
“Fine.” Ian tried to think of a poetic metaphor. Failing that, he decided on, “It is a golden mane of yellowness, much like the sun.”
She burst out laughing. “You say that now, but come morning, my hair appears more a matted pelt than a
‘golden mane’.”
An image of waking up next to her sprang unbidden to his mind. He pushed the thought away and continued with the game, noting that her color was improving and her fingers no longer clenched in her lap.
“And mine?” he asked, giving his head a violent shake so that wavy hair fell across his forehead at a rakish angle.
“Brownish-black,” she pronounced. “And not quite curly. Rather like–” Just as she reached out her fingers as if to touch one of the stray locks of hair falling past his eyes, the door to the music room flew open and the entire supper party flooded in.
She froze, with her hand arrested partway between his face and hers. He froze. The entire party froze.
Larouche, of course, was the first to speak.
“Alicia!” he shrieked, barging through the crowd of gaping onlookers. “What are you doing, hiding in here with him?”
Her face turned three shades of red as she bit her lip and clamped her hands to her sides. “Nothing,” she mumbled, knowing all possible responses would be ineffectual.
Ian felt like clapping his hands to his face and moaning. So much for his daring rescue. Now he needed someone to rescue him.
The crowd was already murmuring their scandalized conclusions amongst themselves when Larouche pranced over and hauled Alicia up by her sleeve. “I saw you touching him! What kind of lady goes around touching people? How could you!”
“I didn’t touch him!” she cried. “We were just talking.” She turned to Ian, a look of abject panic on her face. “You’ve compromised me!”
“From the sound of it,” he answered, dropping his head in his hands, “you compromised me.”
Larouche waved a fat finger in Ian’s face. “Don’t think you’re going to marry her!” he shrilled.
Lady Thornwaite stepped forward and took Alicia’s hand. The silver-haired matron bent forward to level her face with Ian’s. “Don’t think you aren’t going to marry her,” she intoned with steel in her voice. Giving Larouche a black look, she tugged Alicia from his grasp, put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her out the door.
“Aahh!” Larouche cried, his head flipping from Alicia’s departing form to Ian and back again. He pivoted on his heels and flounced after Alicia and Lady Thornwaite.