by Heather Boyd
A blush filled her cheeks as they reentered the ballroom and joined the set newly forming. Unfortunately, the dance was a quadrille, which meant they would be too far apart to continue an improper conversation. But she could look at him all she liked and imagine being with him. For a large man, he was an accomplished dancer. His touch was light, his steps precise. His eyes never left hers and shivers raced over her skin when he smiled. She would have to find a way to keep him at her side after the dance and be brave enough to pursue him for what she wanted.
When the set finished, Louth caught her fingers lightly and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you for the lovely dance, Miss Hedley.”
“Thank you, my lord. I enjoyed it too.”
“I will take you back to Lady Heathcote now.”
Well, that will not do. She needed to spend a few more moments with Louth to ask her questions. “Oh please, might I have punch first?”
“Yes, of course. Dancing is thirsty work.” He smoothly led her through the throng, his larger size immediately clearing a path, and for that she was grateful. She usually had to ask guests to move out of her way several times or scoot around them. A few steps along, however, Talbot materialized before her, stammering a false apology for stepping on her toes.
“East hall, alcove window. The library was occupied,” she whispered and then hurried after Louth before the earl noticed she’d been delayed and with whom.
Once punch was secured, Iris moved to a quiet corner of the room that was still in full view of everyone present and tried to control her racing heart. She felt badly for the Hazeltons. Tomorrow the family would be in an uproar over the robbery. There was nothing she could do to stop these awful events. She was as guilty as the thieves who took the jewels.
She sipped her punch then glanced up at Louth. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
He grunted. “My cousin is here, so no.”
Iris spotted Miss Crewe on the far side of the room in the company of the mysterious Lady Taverham and other acquaintances. Miss Crewe was wearing the most beautiful pink silk gown and Iris sighed wistfully for days gone past, when she might have worn something similar. The strand of seed pearls around her neck took her by surprise. She’d never noticed that lady wear any truly valuable jewels before tonight. She was also surrounded by a gaggle of young gentlemen who clearly were entirely besotted by whatever she was talking about. “She looks to be popular.”
“If only it could last,” Louth murmured. “My cousin never fails to prove she’s an original, as you probably have already heard. They’ll be scared off like the rest by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
She grinned and fluttered her fan before her face. “You might claim she does it on purpose but I’ve never seen any proof.”
“She once suggested painting a suitor then listed all the ways she could soften the impact of his jowls.” He laughed softly. “Ten minutes in my home listening to that sort of talk and you would not doubt my belief that she’d determined never to wed.”
“I’d love to visit you at home, my lord.” Her heart stopped. Was that too bold?
He seemed to choke a little but then smiled broadly. “Will your party go on to another entertainment tonight?”
She frowned, sensing the change in topic had robbed her of a chance to feel him out about the depth of his interest in her. “I believe Lady Heathcote has other plans for later that involve Mr. Meriwether, so I will be left to my own devices for several hours.”
“Ah,” Louth murmured and said no more on the subject.
“They are intimate friends and spend much of the evenings alone together.” She handed her empty punch glass to a passing waiter. She couldn’t let this opportunity slip away without trying harder to make an impression. “It must be nice, having someone to hold at night.”
Louth froze with his glass almost to his lips. “It can be,” he murmured before draining the glass entirely in one swallow and grimacing at the sickly sweet taste.
“Might I ask you a question?” When he nodded she took a deep breath. “What is it like to keep a mistress?”
He blinked slowly and tilted his head to the side. “Is your question part of a dare my cousin tricked you into tonight, Miss Hedley?”
“Absolutely not,” she assured him. “I want to know for my own interest. I’d never speak to your cousin about such a matter.”
“Then forgive me for being blunt but what interest could you have in such a discussion?” His frown grew. “Perhaps I should have returned you to Lady Heathcote, after all. I fear your fall has overset your good sense.”
She gripped her fan tightly until it blades bent under the pressure. “If you’d rather not explain then I’ll simply have to ask someone else.”
Her irritated tone seemed to startle him because he eased closer. “You cannot run about a ball asking that sort of question.”
Louth towered over her and those sensations he’d stirred in her when they’d touched earlier returned full force. Her pulse raced at the idea of being trapped in his strong arms, of being held by him. Kissed into senselessness.
She glanced across the room to where Mr. Talbot stood. He watched them with a curious expression on his face. Her heart raced a little faster. “Would you answer me in private then? I’d very much like to discuss the topic in detail.”
Louth stared at her with widened brown eyes. He shifted to stand immediately before her. “I will return you to Lady Heathcote now.”
He was so tall and wide; his shoulders blocked out Talbot entirely and for that she was grateful. A trickle of satisfaction filled her, even as he caught her elbow in a light grip. She took a risk to ask one more question, the most important one. “What sort of talents do you look for in a mistress?”
He squeezed her elbow firmly, and then dragged her back in the direction of Lady Heathcote and friends. Although she dug her heels in discreetly in a vain hope of slowing him down, she was no match for his power or determination to return her to her chaperone. Seeing it was futile to resist, she gave up the fight and plastered a smile on her face. She would have to ask someone less prudish next time indeed, if she wanted an honest answer.
Four
Martin handed his card to the butler of Lady Heathcote’s home and paced the short hall while he waited to be announced. He regretted his errand, he truly did, but he was doing this for Iris Hedley’s own good. He had barely slept a wink last night, fretting over the questions the innocent woman had uttered in the crowded Hazelton ballroom. She could not ask men what they wanted in their mistresses without risking her reputation and being labeled shockingly fast.
Any scoundrel could have heard her unguarded remarks and taken advantage of her mistake. She was lucky he wasn’t the sort to take advantage or spread harmful gossip, as so many in society were prone to do these days. Unfortunately, he suspected she might not be so lucky the next time she dared to ask a man such an impertinent question if he didn’t put a stop to it himself.
When the butler led him into the drawing room, he discovered Lady Heathcote and Iris alone beside the crackling fireplace and the vision was so lovely and warm, he faltered. Tiny Iris wore her dark hair softly gathered at the back of her head in a loose chignon, and the deep-blue day gown fitted snuggly around her ample curves accented the paleness of her skin. She would be a temptation to any man who thought he might have her in his bed. Given her questions, even a sane man might think he had the right to have her anywhere and anytime he damn well liked.
Lady Heathcote smiled widely. “Ah, Lord Louth. So nice of you to call.”
“Lady Heathcote, Miss Hedley, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” he said as he took a place on a delicate seat opposite them and made small talk as expected of any normal caller. When the pleasantries were over, however, his throat seized. He had planned out what he would say but now, faced with the moment to deliver the warning, he grew uncertain whether to proceed. He would harm Iris’s standing in Lady Heathcote’s eyes if he were to reveal he
r scandalous inquiries to him last night.
Lady Heathcote smiled and glanced between them. “Iris mentioned this morning that she asked after your requirements in a mistress, and I must say I appreciate your early visit more than you can possibly know. Are you come to offer her your protection?”
“You knew what she was up to?” His temper flared and he bit out, “Of course I would not.”
Iris shook her head. “I tried to tell you that you were mistaken over Lord Louth’s reason for calling, Lady Heathcote. He is just being as polite as he has ever been.”
“Absolutely,” Martin insisted. “I came to stop this nonsense.”
“A pity.” Lady Heathcote’s frank gaze raked him from head to toe and she squeezed Iris’s hand. “I should have listened but you cannot scold me for hoping that such a fine specimen of man admired you. There are certainly others who would want someone as lovely as you in their bed.”
Martin stared at Lady Heathcote in disbelief. The woman knew about Iris’s impertinent questions and wasn’t even offended by the idea of Iris Hedley joining the ranks of the demimonde. “Are you not going to stop her from pursing this ridiculous topic?”
Iris flinched and he chastised himself that he’d raised his voice enough to frighten her. He didn’t mean to bellow like a bull but he was horrified. He’d thought Iris to be Lady Heathcote’s friend, but clearly their friendship only went so far and did not cover preventing decisions that could destroy her reputation.
Lady Heathcote regarded him curiously. “Iris is a beautiful and intelligent woman. She knows her own mind, my lord. It is not a direction she has chosen lightly, but since she feels she has no choice, I’ve had to accept her decision and so must all her real friends. I certainly entertain the hope that she will marry well instead one day. Perhaps even fall in love. However, we’ve spent the whole morning discussing the subject and she is determined to strike out on her own and soon, with or without my help. She will find a protector and leave my home for the delights of his bed. I had hoped that man might be you.”
“Make her stay with you.” Martin jumped to his feet and began to pace. The idea of offering his protection was a joke. He’d only harm her.
“I cannot make her do what I want. She is my guest and not a child. She can stay for as long as she wishes to stay and take as much time as she needs to find the perfect man as her first protector.” Lady Heathcote stood. “All I can do is guide her toward a gentle man who will take proper care of her, especially given her past experience.”
“What past experience?” A hot flush swept over his skin at the idea of Iris Hedley having given her body to another without the benefit of marriage. “If your former betrothed or some other bounder has taken advantage, you should tell me.”
Lady Heathcote shook her head. “And then what? Do you plan to call them out? That would cause an even greater scandal.”
He glanced at Iris and found her staring at him, narrowed eyes, arms folded beneath her full breasts. “If you two are finished discussing my future and past as if I am not even in the room, I should like you both to calm down.”
“Forgive me,” Esme murmured and indeed she did look chastened. “I simply wanted Lord Louth to realize what was at stake and to have no doubts of your determination.”
“I think you’ve managed to convey that. My decision is made and will not be changed, my lord.”
He closed his eyes. “A shortsighted decision that will only bring you regret.”
Lady Heathcote murmured, “Excuse me a moment.”
Martin opened his eyes in time to see her leave the room and shut the drawing room door firmly behind her.
Iris waved her hand toward a chair, her skin glowing pink from embarrassment. “Forgive my friend, she is determined that I must approach my choice with honesty and utter conviction or not at all. I had not expected her to importune you on my behalf. Please do sit down, my lord, or if you are too disappointed in me, I can understand if you’d rather leave.”
He returned to his chair. “Why this mistress nonsense? Why not just marry?”
She looked on him in consternation. “I am not exactly marriage material, my lord, without a dowry.”
True. And yet… “That would put off many men but certainly not all. You never lacked for admirers in the past.”
“They admired my father’s money and connections far more than me.”
He winced. “Have you heard when your father might return to society?”
Her attention dropped to her hands and he recalled his prior questions had always produced the same shy response. “I don’t expect my father will ever return.”
Her words were filled with such sorrow that her father had abandoned her along with his financial responsibilities that he leaned forward to take her hand in his. “Surely there is still room for hope that he will come back and put things right again.”
She bit her bottom lip and then shook her head. “There is none and it is high time I started earning my way in this world. I cannot live on Esme’s charity for the rest of my life. I want something of my own again and to be away from London.” She stood and paced away, abandoning his offered comfort. “Esme has been all that is kind and welcoming but I am always aware that my presence in her home is an imposition. My only hope for a secure future is to become a mistress. At least I would be out from under Esme’s feet. I wish you had not come today. It is easy to see that you doubt my appeal.”
Martin was glad he had come and he did not for a moment doubt her appeal as a woman. While she was distracted by the view outside, Martin let his gaze rove over her discreetly. He’d always had a soft spot for Iris Hedley, especially so since her father had fled to the Continent to avoid his debtors. That she lived with Lady Heathcote in London ensured she was well cared for and he always made sure to dance with her whenever their paths crossed. Many in society had snubbed her for her poverty and that made him furious. How was she to blame for anything that had happened?
However, no matter how appealing she might be, tiny, delicate creatures such as this were strictly off limits for a man of his proportions. Since his parting with Vivian, looking at a woman was often the only pleasure he allowed himself. He could not offer for her even if he didn’t think it the most appalling idea. “Of course I would come, if only to warn you not to ask gentlemen such questions ever again. Other men would have assumed you were bent on seduction and pounced on you immediately.”
Her gaze flittered to his shyly. “I will be more circumspect next time and ask someone who might like what he sees.”
Martin did like what he saw very much but she could never be more to him than this. He could be her friend and offer some guidance. Maybe if he answered her questions, she’d change her mind about the whole thing and consider the alternative: marriage to the right man. “I won’t allow you to ask anyone else. The risk of censure is too great. What do you want to know?”
Her eyes widened and then she smiled warmly and drew closer. “How often would I be expected to be intimate with my protector?”
He gave the matter careful consideration, stalling for time in the hope Lady Heathcote would return. Iris was beautiful in a way he suspected she didn’t understand. An ordinary-sized man would likely want her daily. He could tell her the truth but to be so honest might frighten her away from marriage entirely and that wasn’t his goal. He didn’t want to turn her off all men so he chose a lesser answer. “At least a handful of nights each week.”
She held out her hand and flexed her fingers. “So when you saw your mistress, you were intimate at least five times?”
He winced. In truth, he’d been intimate with Vivian less than that. He’d always ensured her pleasure first and often. “We are not talking about my desires but those of an ordinary man.”
She frowned. “What is the difference?”
He raked a hand through his short hair. He could not be that honest with Iris Hedley. “What is your next question?”
Her gaze fell to his lip
s and a bright blush filled her cheeks. “What is it like to kiss someone so deeply that you lose yourself in their embrace?”
He peered at her closely, noticed the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and felt the unwise stirrings of arousal in himself. Just how experienced was Iris with men? If she did not know a good kiss could devastate the senses then the “past experience” Lady Heathcote eluded too might not be as ruinous as he had first feared. “It is wonderful.”
“Could you show me?”
He rocked backward in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
She clenched her hands together at her waist and wrung them together. “As Lady Heathcote mentioned, I have limited experience in these matters.”
He sagged in relief. Lady Heathcote’s choice of words had led him to imagine the worst and that was not the case. “That is good news.”
“How could you believe that?” She sighed. “I have no choice but to press forward if I want any sort of life of my own. I want to know what I’d be expected to do with men and I’d like help in gathering some skills to prepare myself for that day.”
She wanted lessons? His mind reeled that she might have asked someone else for that improper education. She’d be expelled from all good society if she were ever found out. “How much experience do you have exactly?”
“Three kisses,” she answered immediately. “I know there are any number of degrees to a lady’s experience but Esme assures me a woman should be able to tell that the man she is with has the necessary skills to deserve her affections by the expertise of his kiss.”
“You’re a complete innocent,” he choked out. Gods, three kisses was nothing. She was contemplating a life well beyond the pale and had no idea of what changes would come in her life as a mistress.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin proudly. “But I’d like not to be ignorant, too.”
He rubbed his jaw, thinking hard of a way to turn her inexperience to his advantage. If he could distract her from her plan of finding a protector she might yet find a man to marry. A few poorly executed kisses wouldn’t bring her too much harm as long as no one learned of them. “Very well.”