“I didn’t say I wanted to listen to him,” Julian protested. “If I had any spare cash to invest—which I don’t—I’d put it in steam engines.” Unless he was putting it into houses and diamonds and carriages for Georgie.
In any case, he could hardly refuse to do Thorne a favor by hearing his man of business out. And if the scheme turned out not to be solid, he might save his cousin a great deal of money and grief.
Besides, what else did he have to do this afternoon? Cards would fill an hour or two, but what about the rest of the day? He calculated the hours until he could meet Georgie once more in the garden and sighed. At least thinking about a canal might keep his mind off her for a while.
***
Georgiana was standing on the top step of the library ladder, peering into the shadowed bookcase to see what other interesting volumes might be hiding in the very back of the uppermost shelf, when the housekeeper came into the library.
“Miss Georgiana? I can summon Mason for you, if you need something taken down from the top shelf. He’s a great deal taller and could reach more easily.”
Georgiana almost fell off the ladder. “Oh, no, that’s fine, Mrs. Mason. There doesn’t seem to be much up here.” She let the book she’d just snagged slip back into place.
“If you need another volume of sermons,” Mrs. Mason said, “I believe they’re on the other side of the fireplace.”
Georgiana peeked down at her and was relieved to see a twinkle in the housekeeper’s eyes. She gave a discreet little push to the books she’d already selected, shoving them back on the shelf where—she hoped—the housekeeper couldn’t see. She’d simply have to come back for them later. “I thought perhaps some variety in my reading material would be better for me.”
“I should think so, dear. Mary tells me you were writing letters this morning and had a bit of an accident.”
Was there an edge to the housekeeper’s voice? “I beg your pardon—I should have told you myself. I’m sorry about the sheets. It was so very careless of me.”
“The sheets don’t matter. But I was just wondering, dear—who were you writing to?”
Georgiana goggled for a moment. How had she managed to forget that she wasn’t supposed to communicate with anyone outside the house? Writing letters—letting anyone know where she was… no wonder Mrs. Mason was checking on her. “Oh, no one, really.”
Mrs. Mason’s eyes narrowed.
“I mean, I was writing a long letter to a friend, pages and pages—just to pass the time. It’s more like a diary, in fact. I didn’t intend to send it—at least not until Lord Hawthorne has talked to my uncle and straightened everything out. But I thought perhaps if he made arrangements for me to go somewhere else, instead of back to my uncle, I should have a letter ready so my friends would know where to reach me.”
“I see,” Mrs. Mason said slowly.
“Then I’d only have to add the address of where I’d be staying.”
“Yes, dear. Well, give it to me when it’s ready, and I’ll send it over to Lord Hawthorne to be franked.”
And read as well, Georgiana knew. But since the letter was entirely fictional, there was no sense in feeling irate at the idea of her trustee reading her mail…
Though perhaps she should write a long letter, just in case Mrs. Mason went looking for it in her room… Oh, why had she said pages and pages? Could she perhaps say it had been ruined by the spilled ink so she’d tossed it into the fire?
“As it happens, dear, I came in to tell you that Mr. Perkins has called to see you. Perhaps he has news about your situation.”
Perkins? Now? Georgiana could have kicked the nearest chair. After almost a week with no word at all, of course Perkins would have to show up today. If he had come to tell her that she had to go home… or that Lord Hawthorne had reached an agreement with Uncle Rufus and was sending her somewhere else instead…
Well, she wouldn’t go, that was all. She simply wouldn’t go. She didn’t want to leave Upper Seymour Street, and she didn’t want to leave Julian…
Only because of her lessons, of course. Certainly not because she’d been foolish enough to grow fond of him. Mistresses didn’t get attached to their lovers. The only way to be successful in her chosen field was to keep her head and never, ever fall in love…
No. She was absolutely not in love with Julian. She was going to be a mistress. And he was going to marry an heiress.
Her problem right now wasn’t nearly so complicated as falling in love. It was simply that she couldn’t possibly leave before she’d finished these most interesting—and useful—lessons…
Of course, if Julian was to marry a very rich heiress, then he could afford to keep a mistress as well as a wife.
The thought of continuing to be Julian’s mistress should have been an inviting one, but it tasted like dust on her tongue.
Georgiana brushed her hands over her skirt and came down from the ladder. “I’ll see Mr. Perkins here,” she said quietly. “Ask Mason to show him in, please.”
With any luck, she told herself, Perkins had only come to make another speech to her about patience and due time. If that was the case, he’d no doubt be quite impressed with how well she took the news.
***
Colford joined them in the afternoon for Perkins’ droning and interminable analysis of the latest data on the canals—he had expanded from one muddy ditch, it seemed, to an entire network of them, and much to Julian’s surprise, the man actually made sense—and then stayed for dinner.
The meal, it seemed to Julian, was even more extended than the discussion of canals had been. It appeared likely to go on until midnight. Not that there was anything wrong with it, as far as dinners went. The dining room was cozy, the roast well cooked, the port and brandy excellent, and the conversation among the three cousins lively.
But Julian’s gaze kept wandering to the window that so conveniently overlooked the garden. Its blank glass reflected the branches of candles on the table, as though there was no garden outside. No flower beds and graveled paths. No grape arbor. No Georgie…
Was she out there waiting for him? He wondered if she’d be in the grape arbor tonight, or if she’d discovered some other sheltered spot. He thought he’d seen a pear tree—and though he wouldn’t have thought of pears as a tool of seduction before now, he was learning that in Georgie’s hands, anything was possible.
He hoped she wouldn’t stay out there too long; he didn’t want her to get cold.
But if she gave up and thought he wasn’t coming… what then? Should he follow her into the house and up to her bedroom, looking for her? But how would he know if she was really waiting for him or if she’d changed her mind? What if she hadn’t gone out to the garden to meet him at all? What if the door was locked?
What if she didn’t want him to come to her tonight?
But if she did want him, and he didn’t come… he couldn’t bear for her to think that he hadn’t wished to be with her.
The clock in the hallway struck half past ten, and Julian pushed back his chair. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m about to doze off in my port. You two wore me out at Gentleman Jackson’s today. I think I’ll take a quick walk and then go to bed.” Just not to sleep.
He made his escape without giving the other two a chance to comment.
The moon was past full now. The garden was quiet, and the air was still. He could smell grapes as he approached the arbor, and the aroma caught at his senses and sent a surge of arousal through him. He would never smell grapes again without thinking of Georgie… and wanting her.
The arbor lay in shadow, and he couldn’t see whether she was there. But as he approached, a breeze seemed to stir, and suddenly she was there in his arms. He almost staggered at the impact as she flung herself against him, the velvet of her cloak swirling around him and caressing his entire body—enveloping him in her scent. Her lips were cool against his—but only for a moment, and then the heat of her seared his mouth as she pulled him closer.
A mistress makes sure her lover knows that she finds him desirable. Well, that particular topic could be scratched off his list of lessons for Georgie.
Any time she wants to refine her technique, his body announced, I’m available.
He held her away from him. The moonlight shifted just then, so he could see the reproachful look she gave him.
“You don’t like the way I kissed you?” she demanded.
“Very much, my dear. But I don’t want you to bruise yourself on my coat buttons.”
She smiled. “Then let’s go inside and take them off.”
Her tone was only slightly naughty—but the mere hint of mischief left him suddenly as hard as he’d ever been in his life, so eager for her that he almost stumbled as she led him through the garden. The strength of his reaction startled him—and something deep inside him twisted oddly. The night before, she had been shy, tentative, an innocent girl. Tonight Georgie was a woman—totally in control of herself—and her incredibly sensual nature was at full heat.
He didn’t like it. Because she thinks she doesn’t need lessons anymore, he thought. She thinks she’s learned it all.
And that could be very dangerous for her. If she were to share herself so quickly, so enthusiastically, with a man who wasn’t inclined to be gentle with her, she might as well ask to be mistreated. So the next lesson she needed to learn was an important one—though perhaps not one that either of them would particularly enjoy.
Damnation, he thought. All he wanted was to be with her, inside her, toying with and teasing her—but for her own sake, he first had to make sure she understood this basic rule. And clearly he would have to demonstrate, since Georgie didn’t take well to explanations…
Once in her bedroom, she dropped her cloak on the floor and danced around him. “Come on, Julian. Hurry!”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What’s the rush?”
Have you lost your mind? his body asked. Let’s rush!
“I want to practice.”
Oh, good, his body murmured. Where shall we begin?
“Then practice patience, my dear. Not only is it a virtue, but you have a lot more to learn about making love.”
“Exactly,” she said. “So let’s get started.” She was stripping off her clothes as she spoke. Not that she had much on to start with, Julian saw; he thought she must have chosen her dress for the sheer ease of getting out of it.
Big buttons, his body noted. And not many of them. Very convenient…
He observed her out of the corner of his eye—he didn’t dare really watch, or he’d never keep control of himself long enough to make the point he needed her to understand—as he stripped his own clothes off. She was already in bed by the time he was naked, which suited him fine. He rolled on top of her, letting her feel his full weight. He nudged her legs apart, settled himself comfortably, probed a little…
She jerked away, ever so slightly. “Julian.” Her voice was very small. “Aren’t you even going to kiss me first?”
“Why should I? You seemed to be in a hurry.”
“Not that much of a hurry.”
“Well, I’m in a hurry, and you certainly led me to think you were. At any rate, since I’m ready, what does it matter if you’re not? All a mistress has to do is lie still.”
She bit her lip, and he thought he saw the glint of tears in her big hazel eyes. “That’s not what you said last night.”
“There, there, sweetheart.” He rolled onto his side and snuggled her against him, kissing her softly. Even in her confusion, her body was warm and yielding, her skin silky against his, and desire flooded through him.
That’s the way, his body mused. Enough with the restraint.
“It’s all right, Georgie; I’m not really that much of a cad.”
She blinked, and he watched her throat flutter as she swallowed.
“Not very romantic, was it—that approach?” he said.
“Well—no. Why…?”
Her voice, little more than a husky whisper, set him aflame, and he had to clench his jaw for a moment to keep control of himself. She was far from being ready—and so he would wait, trying to distract himself from the glorious softness of her breasts rising and falling against his chest with every breath she took. “Men are generally unromantic creatures, Georgie. They’re quick to arousal and quick to action. If you wish to be treated with restraint and care and patience, then you must not encourage your lover to be in a rush.”
“Oh. You mean I shouldn’t…”
He traced her profile with his fingertip. “You shouldn’t strip your clothes off as if they’re on fire, for one thing,” he said gently. “And don’t bound into bed like that. Require him to tempt you into making love—Lady Flame.”
“Even if I am ready?” she said doubtfully.
“You’ll never be so ready that a little tenderness won’t make you more so.” He kissed her, long and slowly. She hadn’t been eating grapes tonight, but her taste was just as sweet, just as exotic, even though it was entirely her. He let his tongue trace the even white line of her teeth. He wasn’t a bit surprised—but he was delighted—when she bit him, very gently, and sent an arc of heat straight to his groin. He groaned a little and tried to remember the point he’d been making. Something about tenderness… and being ready to make love…
I’m ready, his body announced.
“Encouragement, but not impatience.” He moved just a fraction away so he could palm her breast and toy with her nipple. “Men are hunters. When it’s too easy to bring the quarry down, they lose interest and move on to the next prey.” She moved ever so slightly, pushing against his palm, and suddenly he could barely hear his own words through the rush of blood in his ears.
“So you’re saying if I’m to keep a lover…”
Julian’s voice was thick. “Make him seduce you.”
Any time, his body agreed. Now’s good for me.
She reached up to run her fingers through his hair and pull him down to her. “Like this? Kiss me, Julian…”
He kissed her, and fireworks went off behind his eyes as she responded. What was it he’d been saying? “That’s good. Show him that you’re interested—but make him work to have you.” His hand wandered down until his fingers spread over the warm, flat plane of her belly. He could feel the ebb and flow of her breathing, and the rhythm—mimicking the pattern of making love—made his groin ache.
She arched against him. He cupped her hip, and his fingers seemed to burn from the heat of her. His hand slipped over her thigh and slowly worked its way up the inside of her leg. Very slowly, because he didn’t dare go faster. He wanted to plunge into her, to plunder, to take… and he was barely hanging on to his self-control as it was.
“Otherwise,” he managed to say, “he’ll just spread your legs, thrust a few times, and be done. And if that’s all he needs to do, then any woman can satisfy him.”
“But you’re not like that,” Georgie observed. “You could have done anything you wanted just now—but you didn’t.” She nestled against him and smiled. “I bet you never have to.” She took his hand and—almost carelessly—moved it up a bit until his palm rested over her mound.
He groaned.
Georgie said innocently, “I’m just showing you what I like.”
That’s torture, said his body.
He slipped a fingertip inside her, and she moved just a little to make it easier for him to touch her. “What about this?” He probed a bit further. His chest was getting tight, making it difficult to breathe properly.
“Quite nice,” she said. She sounded very relaxed.
He eyed her suspiciously. Yes, the dimple had peeked out. She really was a star student… who was already applying this newest lesson against him.
Her fingers curled gently, almost lazily, around his penis, cupping him so lightly it was almost as if she hadn’t noticed. Not that he believed for an instant that she didn’t know precisely what she was doing.
All right, now pr
ide is at stake, his body agreed.
It was time for a serious change of tactics, Julian thought, or the minx would have him begging—and he would never hear the last of that.
***
No doubt he was correct that patience was a virtue, Georgiana thought, even though when he said it he sounded a great deal too much like priggish old Perkins for her taste. But maintaining an attitude of forbearance was extraordinarily difficult when he was being so very tempting. Didn’t he understand that she was aching, longing to have him inside her?
What had he said she should do? Oh, yes—encouragement, but not impatience. Well, she’d encourage a little more and see what happened. She let her fingers tighten just a little on that most interesting part of him, and she slowly began to stroke…
Suddenly, he pulled away from her. Her head, which had been resting quite comfortably on his shoulder, almost bounced on the pillow. “Julian—”
“I’m not leaving you,” he said. He sounded a little hoarse. “Just beginning Lesson Four.”
“I thought that was Lesson—”
“Lesson Five, then.” Suddenly his voice was muffled against her most private place, and the vibrations of his words sent shivers through her body.
“Oh…” Georgiana said helplessly.
He used his thumbs to gently open her and bent his head to nuzzle at her. She bucked against him, and he said, “Now, now. Lie still. A mistress’ job is to please her lover.”
She gripped the pillow with both fists. “I’m supposed to just hold still while you do that?”
He raised his head long enough to grin at her. “You can try,” he said sweetly. He blew gently on her, and Georgiana shuddered under the sensation of his warm breath. He was driving her past the point of reason, and the emptiness inside her had become a gnawing ache.
She unclenched one hand from the pillow and wrapped it into his hair instead.
“I’m busy right now,” Julian said, a bit breathlessly.
“I’ll yell.”
“Blackmail? But Georgie—think, dear heart. If you yell, someone will come in, and then you’ll never get what you want. What is it you want, by the way?”
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