‘I think that you had better leave…’ Eleanor’s words came out with about half the certainty that was required to make them sound even remotely convincing. She closed her eyes, wrapped up in the sensual spell that held her, and even as she did so she was aware that it could be her undoing. By now she did not care. Kit was kissing the smooth curve of her shoulder and instinct was prompting her to turn to face him so that he could kiss her properly. She remembered their embrace in the drawing-room and suddenly she wanted it very much. She tried to turn round but he held her still against him, her back against his chest, one arm about her waist.
‘I remember that you mentioned you needed help to undress…’
Kit’s hand had gone to the ties of her chemise, unfastening them so that her bodice was loosened. Eleanor felt it fall open and made a small sound of despair mixed with wanting. She opened her eyes and the reflections in the mirror stole the last of her breath—her hair was a tousled fall of dark, heavy silk tossed over one shoulder whilst the pale skin of the other was stung pink with Kit’s kisses. Her head was thrown back, her eyes bright with a desire she could not hide. The open chemise showed the soft swell of her breasts and the hollow between them, whilst Kit’s head was bent as he trailed a line of tiny kisses down the side of her neck, so frustratingly light and tender.
Eleanor wriggled, and succeeded in turning within the shelter of his arms. She felt Kit’s mouth resume its agonisingly slow exploration, drifting from the line of her collarbone to the hollow at the base of her throat. When his tongue traced the curves there she could not prevent the small groan that escaped her—Kit’s hands tightened momentarily on her arms, then slid round to the small of her back, holding her arched against him. Eleanor could feel the hardness of his arousal against her body and it was inexpressibly exciting. She tried to pull him closer.
Kit drew back, so suddenly that Eleanor felt dizzy. She looked at him uncertainly. His eyes were dark with a desire that was a mirror for hers and he was breathing hard. His gaze flickered over her, lingering on her parted lips, then dropping to the neck of her chemise.
‘I must leave,’ he said slowly. ‘I do not wish to break my promise to you and in another moment that is precisely what I shall do.’
For a minute Eleanor could not even remember what that promise was, then a second later she realised that she was desperate for him to break it. She almost reached out to him, but he was already turning away from her, walking slowly towards the door.
Doubt crept into her heart, and confusion. The heat in her blood was cooling now and she folded her arms tightly across her chest, holding the chemise to her. At the door Kit turned, and his mouth twisted with wry amusement.
‘Do not be afraid,’ he said. ‘I am gone.’ He smiled at her. ‘Good night, my love. Sleep well.’
The door closed softly behind him. Eleanor slid out of the chemise—an easy task now that it was so thoroughly undone—donned her nightdress and doused the candles but for the one beside her bed. She did not want to call Lucy back and she was certain that she would not sleep. She lay and stared up at the canopy above her head, listening to the sound of Kit moving about in the next bedroom, speaking to his valet in low tones. The sounds were oddly comforting but she wished that they were not.
She turned on to her side and hit her pillow with ineffectual anger. How close she had come to succumbing, and how soon it had happened! How easy Kit must have found it to seduce her! Eleanor rolled on to her back again. She was sure that Kit had set out to seduce her and she was only puzzled as to why he had stopped. Yes, they had had an agreement that he would not touch her against her will but he must have known from her response to him that she would not have objected…
Eleanor wriggled miserably, torn between confusion and unhappiness. Perhaps she knew the answer to that too, and at the thought, her body started to burn with humiliation rather than passion. Kit wanted her to want him. He wanted her to be frustrated with unconsummated desire, burning for his touch. As a strategy it had worked damnably well—it was still working, for beneath her mortification, Eleanor could feel a heat that was pure lust. She thumped her pillow with unrestrained force this time. Damn him! Damn him for his skill to arouse her and for his self-control in holding back! And damn her lack of self-control in still wanting him! The memory of their previous lovemaking still haunted her, overlaid with the excitement of the recent encounter. She was as likely to sleep now as she was to fly to the moon.
Eleanor clutched the pillow to her, putting both arms around it. It was only as she remembered the past, the natural outcome of making love, the desire Kit had for children, that the cold seeped into her bones, replacing the anger she felt with cold fear. She stared at the wavering candle flame. The house was quiet now; the sounds from Kit’s room had gone. She felt lonely. To all intents and purposes she was alone, just as she had been in Devon when she had faced the appalling outcome of where her thoughtless passion with Kit had led her.
Eleanor turned her face into the pillow, breathing in its calming lavender scent and pressing its coolness to her hot cheeks. She could not bear such a thing to happen again. So she had to resist Kit’s seductions. That was all there was to it. She would not let him so close again.
Chapter Nine
‘Thank you so much for accompanying me, my dears!’ Lady Salome Trevithick said, beaming at Kit and Eleanor as the town carriage conveyed them across London. ‘I have so wanted to see the sights—why, it must be all of twenty years since I was last in town, and your mama, my dear Eleanor, was quite appalled at the thought of having to come with me to Westminster Abbey!’
Eleanor smiled. ‘I believe that Mama’s idea of sightseeing is to drive down Bond Street, ma’am! She does not have much energy for walking these days.’
‘And I, alas, can only bear to go shopping twice a week at the outside!’ Lady Salome said, sighing. ‘We are most incompatible!’
Eleanor caught Kit’s eye and could not help smiling. It was difficult to imagine finding someone who was compatible with the Dowager. Lady Salome, Eleanor’s late father’s sister, had arrived at the house in Montague Street just as they had been taking a late breakfast and Eleanor had been glad of the diversion. When she had arisen late that morning, she had vowed to treat Kit with a cool courtesy that would distance her from the events of the previous night. She had felt awkward and unsure how to go on. To her dismay, however, just the sight of him had been sufficient to make her feel all warm and disordered in the nicest possible way, reminding her as it did of exactly what had happened between them, and she had been hard put to it to reply to his conversation with any degree of sense. Kit had smiled at her, that slow smile that threw her into even greater confusion, then when the maid had gone out to fetch her breakfast, he had come across and kissed her with great deliberation. And all before Eleanor had had the chance to make it clear that any further intimacies between them were quite out of the question. Fortunately the maid had then returned with some warm rolls and honey, and before the meal had ended, Lady Salome had arrived.
Now, sitting across the carriage from her husband, Eleanor was aware that although Kit was discussing the tombs of Westminster Abbey very knowledgeably, his main interest was focused on her. His blue gaze moved over her thoughtfully, taking in the fashionable little hat perched on her dark curls, lingering on her face, moving down her throat to the modest neckline of her gown and on…It was enough to put Eleanor to the blush. She felt as though he was trying to learn her every feature.
Kit handed them both down from the carriage with a very proper attention, holding Eleanor’s hand for longer than it was necessary. Lady Salome billowed ahead of them into the Abbey. Eleanor, who had not seen her aunt for several years, had forgotten the unusual dress sense that prompted Lady Salome to combine colours and styles with reckless abandon. Today she was wearing a scarlet evening gown with a royal blue spencer over the top and her head was crowned with some truly awesome ostrich feathers. The Abbey guide, coming to meet them at
the door, recoiled slightly at the sight.
‘I wish to see everything!’ Lady Salome announced, surging up the nave. ‘What a truly magnificent building! Tell me a little of the history, sir—’ She turned to the guide, who seemed quite overwhelmed that for once there was a visitor who not only seemed fascinated but genuinely knowledgeable. They moved up the aisle towards the high altar and Kit offered his arm to Eleanor as they fell into step behind.
‘I hope that you do not mind spending some time here,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘Lady Salome seems quite rapt and I have no heart to foreshorten her pleasure!’
‘No indeed!’ Eleanor was looking about her with undisguised interest. ‘This may not be the sort of place one usually visits during the Season, but it is truly fascinating! Only look at those arches—and the ceiling! It is very beautiful, but a little cold…’
She shivered and Kit drew her closer to his side. Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor.
‘And the shrine of Edward the Confessor!’ Lady Salome’s voice floated back to them. ‘Only regard the stone carving! It represents scenes from the life of the Confessor himself, I believe.’
Eleanor stifled a little yawn. It was not that she was bored, but strangely the cold and the dark interior of the building were making her feel sleepy. They were the only visitors and it was very quiet. Then she had not slept very well last night, of course…She stole a glance up at Kit’s face. He was looking straight ahead and his profile was as clear-cut as one of the tomb carvings. Only there was nothing particularly saintly about him. He turned his head and gave her a smile that both confirmed her opinion and made her heart skip a beat. If she had been confused the previous night, now she was even more at a loss. Cold resolution was no proof against Kit’s determination, nor her own desires…Never had her body and mind been so thoroughly in opposition. She shivered again.
‘Do you wish to go out into the sunshine?’ Kit enquired. ‘I believe that Lady Salome is intent on viewing the coronation chair, for she was horrified that the Westminster schoolboys had had the audacity to scratch their initials on it!’
Eleanor watched as Lady Salome, still talking volubly, disappeared from view behind a large pillar. Her voice, still talking nineteen to the dozen and quite drowning out the guide, echoed around the high ceiling and bounced back to them: ‘Vandalism! Sheer wanton destruction! The youth of today…’
Eleanor laughed. ‘Oh dear! It is fortunate those very youths are not now at Aunt Trevithick’s mercy!’ She turned back to Kit. ‘Perhaps we could wait here, my lord? I would not wish my aunt to think we had forsaken her!’
Kit pulled her round and into his arms. ‘Perhaps I may keep you warm then, Eleanor?’ His breath feathered across her cheek in the lightest of caresses. ‘I wanted to speak to you about last night and I can wait no longer.’
‘Pray, my lord, you cannot behave like this here—in a consecrated building!’ Panic rose in Eleanor and she struggled to free herself. She was not sure if she was more afraid of someone seeing them, or of Kit’s actions, or of her own responses. Kit did not let her go.
‘What better place? I am not ashamed of the feelings I have for my own wife—’
Eleanor made a slight, protesting noise that was smothered as his mouth came down on hers. She put her hands up to his chest, determined to push him away, and somehow found herself passing her arms around his neck to draw him nearer instead. For a long heart-stopping, breathless interval they were pressed close and oblivious to all else.
Kit loosened his arms a little and they stood looking at one another. There was the same dazed and wondering look in his eyes that Eleanor was sure must be reflected in hers, and at the same time there was a hopeless confusion raging through her body, for she knew that without a doubt she was falling in love with her husband all over again, and there seemed no way to prevent it.
‘Eleanor…’ Kit said huskily. He put out a hand to brush a stray curl back from her cheek.
‘There you are!’ Lady Salome’s voice echoed down the aisle behind them. ‘I am so sorry for keeping you waiting all this time. I hope that you have not been bored?’
‘Not at all, ma’am!’ Kit said, smiling at Eleanor.
Lady Salome’s bright, observant gaze moved from Kit to Eleanor and lingered there.
‘Goodness me, but you look very flushed, my dear!’ she said. ‘It is suddenly very hot in here—I have noticed it myself! Let us go out into the fresh air and pray that you will cool down!’ She linked arms with both of them and shepherded them outside. Eleanor felt rather like a small boat carried along inexorably in the wake of a much larger ship.
‘I was hoping to visit St Paul’s Cathedral,’ Lady Salome continued, ‘but I see that it is time for nuncheon. Perhaps some other time, if you would care to accompany me?’
Eleanor had a sudden, heated vision of Kit kissing her in every church across London.
‘That would be very pleasant, ma’am!’ she said, and her hand trembled a little in Kit’s as he handed her back up into the carriage. She resumed her seat in the corner and looked out blindly as the familiar landmarks passed by.
She was falling in love with Kit again and she could deny it no longer. Perhaps her heart had never entirely abandoned its feelings for him. She did not know. All she knew was that the thought elated and terrified her at one and the same time, but whilst she knew that a reconciliation with Kit was what she wanted now, it simply was not fair to him. Not when he might never achieve the family he so desired. She leant her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes, feigning tiredness. She needed to think. But in her heart of hearts she knew the answer.
‘So, my dear,’ Lady Salome said, when she and her niece were back in the dining-room in Montague Street and were partaking of a luncheon of cold meats and fruit, ‘it seems to me that there is an unconscionable amount of sorting out needed in this family! How fortunate that I have come up from Devon for that very purpose, but I scarce know where to start!’
Eleanor looked up in some surprise. Kit had gone to his club and she had been quite looking forward to a coze with Lady Salome, who had always been by far the most entertaining and least stuffy of her aunts. She poured them both another cup of tea. Now indoors, Lady Salome had discarded her royal blue spencer and the outrageous ostrich plumes, and the red ball-gown could be seen in all its glory, as could the diamond jewellery that adorned it. Eleanor thought about Lady Trevithick—and wondered.
‘Whatever can you mean, Aunt? You have been here but one day to observe us!’
Lady Salome’s eyes twinkled. ‘I hear things, you know, my dear! And it takes but a few hours in your brother’s house know that all is not well…’
Eleanor passed her a cup. She frowned. ‘All is well with Marcus and Beth, surely? They are but new wed and very happy—’
Lady Salome raised an expressive eyebrow. ‘Ah, marriage! Marriage! An honourable institution, as the Bible tells us! Yet how happy is a man when his wife refuses him entry to her bedroom no matter how he scratches at the door? And then there is your cousin Justin, who wears the expression of a man similarly afflicted. Both he and Marcus are decidedly cross and frustrated!’ She saw Eleanor’s scarlet face and patted her hand with her own, beringed one. ‘I am sorry to put you to the blush, my dear, but I confess the matter intrigued me.’
‘Oh dear!’ Eleanor said faintly. She had quite forgotten her aunt’s devastating combination of biblical quotations and outspoken sense.
‘And then,’ Lady Salome continued inexorably, ‘there is the small matter of finding your mama in my room this morning about to relieve me of my favourite brooch…’ She patted her ample bosom where the said piece of jewellery rested in all its splendour. ‘A thief in the night! Or rather in the morning. She assured me that she had merely come to make sure that all my comforts had been secured…’ Lady Salome crunched her fruit consideringly ‘…but I fear it was her own comfort she sought to achieve—by taking my diamonds. But then she is a slave to her laud
anum, poor creature! We really must do something about that. And finally there is you, my dear…’ Lady Salome tilted her head and looked thoughtfully at Eleanor.
Eleanor shifted uncomfortably, staring fixedly at the pattern on the carpet.
‘I? I assure you, Aunt—’
‘Oh, do not trouble to do that!’ Lady Salome said blithely. ‘It seems to me, Eleanor, my love, that you are mightily attracted to that husband of yours—and indeed, who would not be—but that you are not happy with your situation for some reason! Indeed, when I first met Christopher a few months ago and he was good enough to confide in me, I was struck by the difficult task he would have in regaining your love and trust—’
‘Wait, wait!’ Eleanor besought. Her head was spinning. ‘You met Kit a few months ago, Aunt? He made no mention of it to me! I thought that you were meeting this morning for the first time!’
‘Naturally, since I particularly asked him to let me speak to you before he explained,’ Lady Salome said, smiling. ‘A small deception, my dear, for which I apologise. Deceit is a bad thing, and I pray that I may redeem my soul from it, but in this case it was entirely necessary! Christopher had given me his word that he would tell no one of our previous meeting and I asked that he permit me to talk to you alone, so…’ she made a slight gesture, ‘here I am!’
Eleanor put her hands up to her cheeks. ‘Aunt Trevithick, it seems that in a remarkably short time you know all our most closely guarded secrets!’
‘I pride myself upon it, my love,’ Lady Salome said complacently. ‘One cannot spend as much time as I have upon Fairhaven Island without observing human life in all its glory!’
The Notorious Marriage Page 16