Regency for all Seasons: A Regency Romance Collection

by Mary Lancaster

  She nodded.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment I unlaced your gown and began rubbing vinegar all over your body,” he said, his voice soft and sensual. “Your family, our neighbors, even the villainous Lady Withnall knew exactly what I intended to do to you. Now you know, as well.”

  He lowered his lips to hers so that they were achingly close but not quite touching. “What do you say, Violet? Are you willing to explore the sense of taste?”

  Chapter Nine

  Mother in heaven.

  Was she willing to kiss Romulus?

  What a question to ask! He was easily the handsomest man she’d ever met and certainly one of the smartest. She wanted to devour him, breathe him in, inhale great gulps of him, for she loved his rugged, manly scent that hinted of salty air and spices. She loved the strength and power of him, wanted to cling like a limpet fish to his massive shoulders and burrow close against his body.

  She knew she would love the muscled strength of his arms as he wrapped them around her.

  His kiss.

  Most of all, she wanted to taste his lips, allow their warmth to seep through her own and carry her away to a place she’d never been before. “Yes, I’m willing.”

  Goodness, yes.

  She glanced toward the large parlor window, trying to detect whether any of her family was looking out of it. Hortensia was there, her stern and frowning countenance staring back at her, knowing exactly what they wanted to do, and by her frown, she was determined to stop them.

  Violet stifled her disappointment.

  “What a bother,” she muttered.

  Hortensia would come charging out of the house like a raging bull the moment Romulus put his arms around her.

  He must have noticed the direction of her gaze, for he emitted a soft, laughing groan. “This will take some tactical planning. Do you still want the kiss?”

  She nodded.

  “Then come with me.”

  “Where?” She merely asked out of curiosity and did not resist when he casually placed her arm in his as any gentleman would do when walking with a lady down the street. She wasn’t certain what he intended, but she went along since he obviously had something in mind.

  “The large oak tree will hide us from her view.”

  He was referring to the infamous tree where the bees once had their hive. “It will? Oh, I see. Yes, it might.”

  He nodded. “We’ll have only a few seconds to conduct this operation.”

  She laughed. “You make it sound like a tactical naval maneuver.”

  “Oh, it is. Hortensia is on to me and my evil desires. She will come running out of the house as soon as she loses sight of us behind the tree. We’ll have to the count of three to reappear, and when we don’t, she’ll know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

  “With my wholehearted approval.” Violet could not help but laugh again, for he had a devilish arch to his eyebrows, and he was smiling at her with a most appealingly wicked warmth. “I’ll be complicit in this delicate military operation. Tell me what I ought to be doing.”

  He walked her casually around the garden as they spoke. “All you need to do is respond honestly. There is no right or wrong in a kiss. You’ll either like it or you won’t. Your body will respond instinctively to it. So will your heart. Just follow wherever it takes you.”

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  In truth, she had been ready from the moment she’d escaped the bees only to end up in his kitchen, his big hands skimming all over her body as he unlaced her gown, rolled down her stockings, and hurriedly applied the vinegar to her skin. The bee stings burned in a bad way, but his touch burned as well, in an incredibly delightful way.

  They strolled near the tree.

  “Here we go,” he muttered, his arms suddenly wrapping around her as she leaned against the tree trunk and felt its rough bark press through the back of her muslin gown. He turned her so they now switched positions, he leaning against the rough bark as he drew her up against his chest and lowered his head to crush his lips to hers.

  She felt the warm conquest of his mouth on hers, the demanding press of his lips, and the tension in his body as he sought to hold back, no doubt afraid he’d scare her with the searing intensity of his desire. She knew he wanted her and felt this same hunger for him.

  She clutched the lapels of his jacket, needing to anchor the waves of sensation that began to course through her body. These were elemental waves, it was the only way she knew how to describe them. Air, fire, water, earth. The rush of air that left her breathless, while at the same time, a fire raged in her veins. Her legs had turned to water, no longer able to hold her up. She would have fallen if he were not supporting her, and now she was drowning in the power of his kiss. But he steadied her, his embrace comforting and planting her to the ground so she would not float away.

  She was unprepared for the enormity of these sensations, but he’d told her to trust her heart and follow wherever it led her. The answer was obvious. Her heart led her straight to him.

  Yet, how could she want him so desperately when she hardly knew him? How could her heart be so certain?

  She felt the lick of his tongue along the seam of her lips and opened slightly to take more of him in. He probed, invaded, and yet there was a protective gentleness to the kiss despite its heat and urgency.

  She’d lost track of the seconds, for this moment in his arms felt timeless, and she did not want their kiss ever to end.

  “Violet! Do not kiss that man!”

  Oh, far too late for that.

  “Twenty seconds,” Romulus whispered, easing his lips off hers with a wrenching groan. He released her and stepped back.

  She felt bereft.

  She liked being in his arms.

  How had he kept his wits together enough to count to twenty? She’d gotten as far as one, two…then completely lost her place. But this was her first time, and she had no idea what to expect.

  He’d done this before, quite often if the perfection of his kiss was any indication.

  “Caught with my hand in the tin of biscuits. We’re in for it now,” he muttered, obviously feeling not a whit of remorse for what they’d just done.

  In truth, neither did she.

  She liked the affectionate warmth of his smile and the emerald fire in his eyes as he gazed at her.

  She’d thoroughly enjoyed clutching his muscles and running her hands over the hard planes of his shoulders and chest. Her only disappointment was the impossibility of touching his skin, for there were too many layers of fabric between them.

  She had no idea her thoughts could be so wanton.

  Was Romulus thinking wanton thoughts of her?

  *

  Romulus was not in the habit of strangling old ladies, but Violet’s aunt was making his fingers itch to wrap around her throat. He could do nothing but watch the harridan storm toward them.

  Violet’s chin was tipped up in unexpected defiance.

  He smothered a grin, realizing she’d liked his kiss and was not at all pleased with Hortensia for interrupting her exciting experiment.

  Her first kiss.

  He hoped he’d done it justice.

  One glimpse of Violet’s starlit eyes revealed he had. He was glad of it, not merely because he was a prideful arse who liked to think he had prowess with women. He cared for Violet more deeply than he thought possible on such a short acquaintance. But it felt as though he’d always known her, that his heart had merely been waiting to embrace her. She was important to him, and it had nothing to do with any possible scandal.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Hortensia scowled at Violet, the question delivered with the force of an inquisitor at an inquisition.

  “I say…hurrah! I’m glad I kissed him and would not take it back for all the world.” But she tempered her defiance as she continued. “Aunt Hortensia, don’t be angry. You know I had to kiss him. This is what I was explaining to you about The Book of Love and the impor
tance of testing its theories. Yes, this experiment was a few days rushed, but he was the perfect test frog.”

  Hortensia stared at him as though he was a debauched hound.

  He supposed he was when it came to Violet.

  “Indeed,” Violet said, overlooking the silent exchange between him and her aunt, “I could not bring myself to kiss anyone else. Besides, we are betrothed and ought to be permitted some modicum of privacy.”

  Hortensia cast Romulus another discerning glance. “So, you were her willing test frog?”

  “I hope I am much more than that to your niece. The kiss was harmless enough.”

  Hortensia snorted.

  Violet smiled up at him. “Your kiss was divine. Well done, Mr. Brayden. Thank you for being so…cooperative.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Farthingale.” He supposed these sensations of love and sexual awakening were all new to her and felt like tests at every step. As for him, he was very much looking forward to tasting her rosebud lips again soon. He’d already sown his wild oats. This was no test or new exploration for him.

  He’d been sexually awakened years ago.

  But with this kiss, Violet had awakened his heart as well.

  He was experienced enough to know what he wanted, and it was this girl with the soft, violet eyes and the beautiful smile.

  “Impertinent girl,” Hortensia said with a sigh of defeat. “Wipe that cow-eyed look off your face and make yourself presentable. You have company.”

  Violet appeared surprised. “I do? Who would call on me at this hour?”

  Whoever it was, Romulus already hated them for interrupting his time alone with her. But he would get more kisses from her later today. He was happy to be the object of her testing if the results were as delightful as their first kiss had been.

  Indeed, these love experiments could be quite jolly fun.

  He strode to the bench and picked up the book, curious to read it cover to cover. These experiments might be enhanced if he understood better what he ought to be doing to increase Violet’s pleasure.

  Despite his low brain function presently being in control of his body—Lord, he was in flames over this girl—he was thinking of how to make their lives together as husband and wife happy and fulfilled. This was the pleasure he sought to learn more about.

  There, that was a high-brain purpose.

  Even if his thoughts were still dug low in that sexual ditch.

  “Lord Forester and his sister, Lady Rawley, have stopped by. They apologized profusely, but said it was urgent that they see you.”

  Violet frowned. “Very well.”

  She turned to Romulus. “Do you mind if we postpone our…” A pink stain shot into her cheeks. “…discussion until later?”

  By discussion, he supposed she meant hot, steamy kisses.

  Yes, he minded.

  But he could be a gentleman about it. “Not at all.”

  The sun had broken through the clouds and was now shining down on Violet’s hair. Those dark, silken curls looked ready to burst from their pins. He’d probably knocked a few of them loose as his fingers had been buried in her hair.

  She was nibbling her lip, driving him wild with the play of her teeth against her plump, lower lip. “You are welcome to join us.”

  He was going to refuse, but she continued. “After all, we are betrothed. Even though it is a secret betrothal for the moment.”

  After that kiss? He’d marry her today if it were possible to obtain the special license within the hour.

  “But I know what Lord Forester’s visit is about, and I don’t wish to keep his purpose from you.”

  “What purpose?” Was there something more between her and Lord Forester? It couldn’t be anything romantic. Violet was no accomplished flirt and would never be able to pretend affection for two men at once.

  But he’d seen Forester with her in Lady Dayne’s moonlit garden last night. Although Violet held no romantic feelings for him, there was no mistaking Forester’s amorous intentions toward her.

  “It is about my singing.”

  “Your singing?” Oh, hell. Was he about to be dragged into a music recital? At this hour? He’d need three or four drinks to numb his ears. Not that he would mind hearing Violet sing, but the others?

  “I think it is important that you join me,” Violet said, casting him a pleading look.

  “Of course.” Bloody damnation.

  Hortensia was still looking at him as though she wanted to bludgeon him, but this appeared to be her natural look.

  He walked inside with Violet and was instantly glad he’d agreed. Forester was not happy to see him, and his sister appeared more than slightly alarmed.

  This wasn’t about warbling a few tunes among friends. “Why are you here, Forester?”

  “I might ask the same of you.” He turned to Violet. “Lady Rawley and I wished to speak to you in private, but I see we’ve come at a bad time. When may we call upon you again?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. You’ve already been invited. Did you receive Aunt Sophie’s invitation to come to tea tomorrow?”

  “No, we must have gone out before it arrived. We’d love to attend.” Lady Rawley smiled at Violet, but there was an undercurrent of tension in her manner that put Romulus off. What did this pair want with Violet?

  “We’ll see you tomorrow then,” Forester said, bowing over her hand and giving Romulus the curtest of acknowledging nods.

  Romulus crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at Forester’s retreating back. There was something he disliked about the man. It wasn’t jealousy, he would have been more polite if it were simply a matter of that.

  Of course, he would never encourage another man’s pursuit of Violet, but he could understand why another man might want to court her. She was lovely. Sweet. Intelligent. Perfect. But his gut was roiling, and the little hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. This man was not competing for Violet’s affections.

  This man was not to be trusted.

  Romulus did not yet understand the reason for his unease, only that alarm bells were ringing in his head, and he did not want Violet anywhere near Forester. “You mustn’t see him again, Violet.”

  She laughed off his request. “Don’t be silly. We’ve already invited Lord Forester and his sister to tea. They’re old friends. I cannot take back the invitation. Nor would I wish to take it back.”

  She frowned at him. “What is it you don’t like about him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Violet now looked as though she wished to bludgeon him. “You don’t know? Yet you expect me to cut an old friend out of my life, just like that?”

  He may have been a bit heavy-handed, but he was only thinking of her safety. “Yes.”

  He caught the disappointment in her eyes and knew he had confused her with a request that seemed illogical. “Please, Violet. I’m not an ogre. Nor am I a jealous, possessive hound. There is more going on here than you realize.”

  “Such as?”

  “As I just said, I don’t know yet. But I need you to trust me.” He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Why ever would she agree? She’d known Forester for years and him for two days.

  “Trust,” she said after a thoughtful pause. “This is the key to everything, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “It is.”

  She gazed up at him with hurt reflected in her eyes. “Then why do you not trust me to make the right decision?”

  Chapter Ten

  Why do you not trust me to make the right decision?

  Violet’s question troubled Romulus, and continued to trouble him as he strode into his brother’s townhouse later that afternoon. He’d tried to explain his reasons to Violet, but they’d sounded weak even to his own ears. “I’m an experienced naval officer,” he’d told her. “My instincts are finely honed to sense danger.”

  His instincts weren’t merely warning him that Forester was no friend to her, they were shouting it at him.

  Her an
ger had abated somewhat, but she was not happy with him. “I shall offer you a compromise,” she’d said with a calm and logic he had to admire. “Let me hear what he has to say, and then I’ll talk to you about it. But I must be the one to decide what I must do.”

  He had opened his mouth to protest, but she would allow no more and frowned at him. “Trust goes both ways, Romulus. How can I marry someone who doesn’t trust me?”

  That remark still stung.

  He trusted Violet.

  Blessed saints, there was no guile or malice in her heart.

  But Forester and his sister?

  He’d check the silver after a supper party to make certain they hadn’t walked off with any pieces.

  “Rom, you’re looking awfully morose for a man in love,” his brother teased as Romulus entered the study and sank into one of the soft leather chairs beside the fireplace. James had been seated at his desk, but rose to join him.

  His cousins, Tynan and Marcus, were standing with their shoulders propped against the fireplace mantel, each with a glass of brandy in hand.

  They grinned at him as he sat down.

  “The tadpole is in love?” Marcus teased, referring to him by the name given to the youngest Brayden boys. James, Marcus, and Tynan were the eldest and all of them earls. James was Earl of Exmoor. Tynan was Earl of Westcliff, and Marcus was Earl of Kinross.

  Not only were they older, but sometimes insufferable because of their titles. Not that they ever treated him as lesser, but they could never resist playfully taunting him and the younger Brayden boys because that’s just what older brothers did.

  Marcus’s brother Caleb was known as squid because he fell in the middle, between the eldest three and the youngest four. They all still referred to Caleb as squid even though he was General Brayden, and in command of England’s finest royal dragoon units.

  “Shut up, Marcus,” Romulus grumbled, “or I’ll tell your wife you were teasing me. Lara will have you sleeping in the outhouse for a week.”

  Marcus laughingly groaned. “She would do it, too. I don’t know why she’s so fond of you tadpoles.”

  Romulus, Finn, Joshua, and Ronan, said tadpoles, were all close in age and the youngest of the Brayden boys…now men, but not in the eyes of their older brothers.