The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1)

by Linda Rae Sande

  Alice frowned. “Whatever do you mean?” she wondered as she moved to press the front of her body against the front of his. His arousal was suddenly evident as it nudged her belly through the fabric of her night rail.

  “I am an old man, and—”

  “Nonsense,” Alice replied with a shake of her head.

  “—Once in a fortnight is usually quite enough for me.” He didn’t add that it had been far longer than a fortnight since he had last bedded a woman. “And yet, despite having had my way with you, I find I am desperate to do it again.”

  Had he been able to make out her eyes in the dark, he would have seen them darken with desire. “Then do so,” she replied, her voice filled with far more than an invitation.

  It was Alonyius’ turn to frown. “Truly?” he replied, his surprise evident.

  “Of course,” Alice replied before lifting herself on her toes and kissing the corner of his mouth.

  His lips took hers then, his kiss urgent and hungry, his tongue invading her mouth to touch her teeth and tangle with her tongue. One of his arms released her so that his hand could move to cover a breast, to knead it in his palm until the nipple hardened and was trapped between two fingers. She broke the kiss to inhale sharply, the darts of pleasure already sending her body into readiness for his assault. Far too warm, she backed into the cold wall and raised one lithe leg to wrap about his hip.

  Understanding her need, Alonyius used his hands to push her night rail up past her hips and then cupped the globes of her bottom. Lifting her up so she was leveraged against the wall, he pushed his manhood into her. A groan accompanied his movements as he squeezed his eyes shut against the impending release. For that moment of bliss, he merely wished to stay close, to have her arms wrap around his shoulders and hang onto him. He might have allowed his own pleasure just then—he’d been hard for far too long—but he wasn’t about to leave her wanting. Not when she was so willing.

  Alice inhaled. The cold against her back and the searing heat on her front had her body in turmoil, the space between her thighs throbbing and yet completely filled with his manhood. Although she feared there might be pain, she instead felt a need so great, she couldn’t help her plea of, “hurry,” from escaping her lips.

  Hurry?

  With her desperate word filling his ear, Alonyius stilled his breathing before thrusting his hips as hard as he dared. He reveled in how her entire body reacted, in how her chest arched out toward him, in how her head was thrown back against the wall. The night rail, an impediment against what he wanted to be doing to her breasts, had to go. One hand let go of her to push it up farther, and understanding his wishes, Alice let go her hold on him to pull the offending garment from her body so she could toss it aside. Her arms once again gripped the back of his shoulders as he pumped himself into her, over and over as his mouth covered a breast to stifle his groans. Despite knowing she was about to come, he was still a bit surprised when she arched suddenly and then hugged him hard as she cried out.

  The maelstrom of pleasure and stars and blinding light and darkness had him stilling his movements lest he crush her into the wall anymore than she already was. A moment later, he felt her teeth grip the lobe of one of his ears, and he jerked awake. Sliding his hands from her bottom so she could lower her legs, he heard her sigh—was that disappointment?—as his manhood left her body.

  She kissed him then, a sweet kiss accompanied by another sigh. “Come to bed,” she whispered. “Before you fall down, old man,” she added in voice filled with what sounded like amusement.

  Alonyius had no idea how he managed to make it to the bed, although it was only a few steps away from the window. He ended up on his side, his knees bent in an effort to retain the warmth of their coupling. Never before had he taken a woman whilst standing up, and he rather doubted he would again.

  Whatever had he been thinking to attempt such a feat?

  I wasn’t thinking, he reminded himself. Just reacting. What else could he have done in response to her blatant invitation?

  Or had that been a dare in response to his claim of being an old man?

  He suddenly found he didn’t care.

  Bed linens and quilts quickly covered him against the chill before a naked body pressed against his back, warm thighs rested against the back of his, and a soft arm wrapped about his middle. Sleep took him, but not before he managed a murmured, “Thank you.”

  Such an inadequate thing to say, but what else was there?

  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the scents of citrus and musk filling her nostrils, Alice grinned and managed to murmur, “You’re welcome,” before allowing sleep to take her once again.

  Chapter 16

  A Widow in His Past

  The next morning, Sunday, December 22, 1816

  The bright sunshine pouring into the mistress suite had Adele blinking awake far later than usual. She dared a glance in the direction of the bedchamber’s only window and squinted. Her husband, bare naked, was almost entirely silhouetted in the light.

  “Come away from there, or you’ll freeze to death,” Adele admonished him as she rolled over.

  The earl gave her a glance, his grin turning to a huge smile. “The sun has decided to make an appearance, my sweeting,” he replied, his happiness apparent in his voice. “First time in...” He paused, realizing he didn’t know how long it had been since the yellow ball had been visible.

  Several weeks?

  “The entire year?” Adele offered from where she lay regarding him. Despite his age, her husband was still rather fit. There wasn’t a hint of a belly so many of his peers displayed, nor the humpback of a spine about to give out. His hair was graying, of course, but the man was in his early forties! He had already outlived some of his contemporaries.

  “Two months, at least,” Milton agreed as he returned to the bed. “Which means we could go outside today.”

  Adele’s involuntary shiver was apparent to the earl, and he gave her a chiding grin. “Now, now. I was thinking about hitching up the sleigh. I’m sure there’s a horse or two that would like some exercise, and the fresh air will do us both some good.”

  The idea sounded rather fun, although going out in the chill didn’t hold any appeal. “Are there rugs we can ride under?” she wondered. “I rather doubt my redingote will be warm enough.”

  Milton’s eyes widened. “Och, we have something better than coats,” he claimed happily. “Furs! Several blankets of them, and I rather imagine we can find you a warmer muff,” he replied with enthusiasm. “Why, the furs are so warm, we could go in our birthday suits.”

  Adele blinked and then regarded her husband with suspicion. “You’re not joking, are you?”

  Suppressing the urge to laugh, Milton shook his head. “I was, actually... but I suppose I could be talked into it if you’d like to try,” he offered with a bit too much enthusiasm. He climbed back into bed, careful not to touch his wife given how cold his skin was just then.

  Shaking her head in her pillow, Adele groaned. “As long as it took you to get me to sleep without wearing a night rail, do you really think I would agree to such an arrangement out of the bedchamber? Out of doors?” she countered lightly.

  “It was worth a try,” Milton reasoned. He pulled the covers back over his body and snaked an arm behind Adele’s shoulders. “Did you sleep well?”

  His wife nearly snorted. Was the man joking about that, too? Although she never believed she would be able to spend an entire night in bed with a man and actually sleep while doing so, she found she slept rather soundly with Milton—once she was able to drift off. “Once I stopped wondering what you meant about sharing me,” she whispered.

  Milton inhaled sharply and turned his head to regard her. “I believe I said I don’t wish to share you.” He lifted his head from the pillow in alarm. “Are you considering taking a—?”

  “No, of course not,” Adele interrupted with a shake of her head. “But what did you mean, exactly?”

  T
he earl settled his head back into his pillow and sighed. “I meant in general, I suppose,” he muttered. “You’re a rather busy woman, what with all your callers and your charities and the musicale you host every year. I just thought it rather advantageous that I could have you all to myself for a time.”

  Adele allowed a wan smile. “Are you jealous when we’re in town?” she asked in a teasing whisper.

  Frowning, Milton considered the question. “On occasion, I suppose,” he admitted.

  “There’s no need to be,” she assured him. “Should you ever think I’m too busy, you need only say something, and I’ll be sure to arrange a replacement.”

  A guffaw answered her comment. “You, my dear, are irreplaceable,” he murmured. “One of the reasons I made you my wife.”

  It was Adele’s turn to make a sound of disbelief. “If I hadn’t agreed to marry you, who do you suppose you would have pursued as your wife?”

  Milton should have realized that no matter how he answered the seemingly innocent question, he had fallen into a trap from which there was no easy way out.

  And maybe no hard way, either.

  “Maybe Lady Pendleton,” he replied, not giving the question much thought.

  Adele stilled herself, realizing he referred to Edith Harrington, the widow of the Earl of Pendleton. The red-headed, green-eyed woman had been his choice of widow to escort to ton events the third Season he had decided to squire widows about town. Adele couldn’t remember having seen them much in public, though. “Edith?” she whispered in disbelief. She suddenly sat up, the covers falling from her front as she did so. She quickly gathered them to cover her bosom as she stared down at her husband. “Do tell me you’re joking.”

  Now, this was the moment Milton could have given her one of his devil-may-care expressions and agreed, that yes, he was joking.

  But he wasn’t. And he didn’t.

  And he hadn’t yet figured out his comment would have the Green Monster of Jealousy unleashed inside his wife.

  “Not at all. We suited well, for a time. She’s rather gorgeous, although not as pretty as you, and she was already a countess, so she wasn’t after a title, if you take my meaning.”

  Adele could only stare at him for a moment before she furiously gathered up more of the covers and moved to leave the bed, the bed linens hastily wrapped about her naked body.

  Suddenly left completely uncovered, Milton sat up and grabbed the end of one of the bed linens, pulling on it with a jerk so that Adele’s exit was impeded. “Let. Go,” she demanded, her eyes dark with warning.

  Her husband released the linen sheet and frowned. “What is it?” he asked, his manner one of innocence.

  “Edith Harrington?” Adele repeated with a huff. She shook her head. “She’s a... a... seductress! An opportunist. A trollop. Why, she’ll sleep with anyone who gives her half a glance!”

  His eyes widening with her rant, Milton realized just then he shouldn’t have answered her question. He should have dodged it, or claimed he hadn’t given a thought to a second choice. Or at least come up with a different widow’s name. But, dammit, her question had him considering one, and he had answered without much thought. He hadn’t had to give it much thought. He rather liked his time with Lady Pendleton—at least at first—and thought the two would suit. Edith would have had to give up her other lovers, of course, but she had been able to do so during part of their Season together. “I apologize, Adele. You asked, and I just said the first name that came to mind.”

  Adele’s expression turned to one of anguish. “Do you still... see her?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. Reason told her he didn’t, merely because he was home every night, and usually in her bed. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t spending an afternoon now and again in the company of the trollop.

  Milton gave a shrug. “Well, on occasion—”

  “Oh!” The cry of anguish increased in volume, and Adele hurried to the door that led to the dressing room.

  “—Because we do attend some of the same events,” he soldiered on, realizing he had dug a rather deep hole for himself, and he didn’t even have a shovel!

  “Out!” Adele yelled, her finger pointed toward the bedchamber door. “Out of my bed!”

  Blinking, Milton realized he had never before seen Adele Slater Worthington Torrington so agitated. So annoyed.

  So angry.

  Not even on the occasion when Lady Pettigrew deigned to hold a soirée on the very same night as Adele’s annual musicale. “Sweeting,” he started to say, hoping to assuage her anger.

  “Do not ever again use that endearment with me, you two-timing... cheating... bastard,” she hissed. “Now get out!”

  Recoiling as if he’d been slapped across the face, Milton swallowed hard. He watched as she reached for a vase from the room’s only dresser. She was attempting to hoist it over her head when Milton realized she was going to throw it at him.

  “I’m out!” he shouted as he struggled to get out of the bed. Despite his nakedness, he left the bedchamber by way of the room’s door to the hallway—his exit by way of the dressing room door was blocked, after all, the priceless vase having come to a rather high point above Adele’s head. The door slammed behind him, and he was forced to cover his manhood with his hands as he rushed down the hall in an attempt to make it to the master bedchamber without being seen by a chambermaid or footman.

  He almost made it.

  And he would have made it if the door to the master suite hadn’t been locked from the inside.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he cursed, which had the housekeeper peeking around the corner from an adjacent hallway to discover him banging his head against the door.

  Without a word, Mrs. Miller approached and held out the key from her chatelaine. “Let me get that door for you, my lord,” she offered in her most dispassionate voice.

  Milton blinked, rather stunned the housekeeper had just been around the corner and even more stunned by her efficient manner. “Most appreciated, Mrs. Miller. I seemed to have locked myself out this morning,” he commented in a matching voice. “The view of the sun from the hall window is most unexpected. Why, it was so bright, I was nearly blinded.”

  Mrs. Miller unlocked the door and stepped back. “Yes, it is, my lord. Why, it would be a perfect day for a sleigh ride. Have a good day.” She gave a quick curtsy, arched an eyebrow, and disappeared around the corner.

  Although he was about to bow to her curtsy, Milton thought better of it and simply rushed into this bedchamber. He managed to kick the door shut behind him before he let out a curse that might have been heard by the nearest neighbors had they not lived nearly four miles away.

  What the hell had just happened?

  His wife had asked him a simple question, and he had answered. Somewhat truthfully. Somewhat stupidly.

  A mistake, he realized now.

  He rolled his eyes and hung his head, wondering if it would be safe to attempt a reconciliation before breakfast. But what could he say? The damage had already been done. Adele was convinced...

  Well, he wasn’t exactly sure what she was convinced about, but he had to do something to assure her his time with Lady Pendleton had been over for more than ten years.

  Moving to the door to the dressing room, he pressed an ear against it and listened intently. Although he heard a bit of banging about—were those shoes being tossed against the wall? Or his Hobys?—he was more surprised to hear whimpering.

  Was Adele crying?

  Or had the stable dog been allowed upstairs?

  Milton gave a shake of his head. He had a thought to simply climb into his bed and go back to sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do so. Not without Adele at his side.

  When had his need for her become so intense? His dependence so acute? Although he had bedded a number of widows over the years, he had only ever enjoyed serial relationships. He knew from his philandering friends that having more than one woman in his life at a time would lead to consequences.

/>   Consequences much like he was experiencing at this very moment.

  How the hell did this happen? he asked himself for the fourth or fifth time.

  I told the truth.

  Well, that wasn’t exactly all of it, he had to admit. But he’d had no idea Adele had such a poor opinion of Lady Pendleton.

  Were other ladies of the ton of the same opinion about Edith Harrington? Did she suffer the cut direct because others of her sex believed her to be a trollop?

  At the precise moment he almost felt sorry for the woman, he also realized there was some truth to his wife’s opinion, for Edith could play him—and did—with little effort, he suddenly remembered.

  The seductress had him spending most of their nights together in her bed in her townhouse in Westminster, assuring him they could miss important ton events in favor of creating their own beneath her bed linens. After a few months, and fielding far too many comments from his colleagues regarding his noticeable absences from the nightly entertainments, Milton realized he had to give up the widow in favor of his political career.

  And so he did.

  He purchased a gemstone-encrusted necklace from Rundell, Bridge & Rundell, paid a call on her in the middle of the day, and informed her he had to end their liaison.

  Appearing a bit disheveled and clad only in a satin dressing gown, Edith gave him a brilliant smile until she guessed the reason for his visit. He explained their affaire was threatening his political career, offered her the black velvet box, and kissed the back of her hand as he gave her a bow.

  Although Edith feigned disappointment—her lower lip extended into the pout of a spoiled woman told she couldn’t have what she wanted—Milton had the distinct impression he had interrupted a tryst. “Don’t keep your lover waiting too long, my dear,” he whispered as he took his leave of her townhouse.

  He would never forget the look of shock that appeared on her face just before he shut the door. Didn’t she realize that Lord Brougham’s coach was parked directly in front of her townhouse?

  Milton shook his head of the annoying memory, made even more annoying by the thought of how much the necklace had cost.