She lifted her chin. “You may kiss me,” she said.
He wasn’t about to make it that easy for her. “I thought you meant to kiss me.”
“Oh.” She smoothed her skirts. “Well, I suppose that’s only fair since I took advantage of you.”
Her full lower lip fascinated him. He almost said she could take advantage of him anytime, but he kept that between his teeth.
She set her small hands on his shoulders, lifted on her tiptoes, and quickly kissed him on the lips. Then she smiled as she stepped back. “There now, that wasn’t bad.”
“I disagree,” he said. “It was terrible.”
“What?” she said, her voice outraged. “You— How dare you insult me?”
“You would prefer I lie?”
“No doubt you had something lascivious in mind.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I expected a real kiss, but if you’re afraid, I’ll understand.”
Her green eyes flashed. She closed the distance between them, stood on her tiptoes, and looped her hands around his neck. When he wrapped her in his arms, all of her soft, delectable curves pressed against him. His heart ricocheted in his chest.
She leaned in closer. The faint scent of roses bewitched him. Heat flooded his veins. She was soft and luscious, and he could no longer hold back. “Forgive me in advance,” he said, aware that his voice was low and rough.
“For what?” she said.
“This.” Then he claimed her sweet lips.
Chapter Two
Laura’s head was spinning as Lord Bellingham cupped the back of her head and devoured her lips. She clutched his shoulders, needing an anchor.
She shouldn’t compare his kiss to her late, elderly husband’s gentle, fleeting ones. But how could she not? Bellingham had taken full possession and left no doubt of his mastery.
This was a rake’s kiss—confident, provocative, and oh so bone melting.
She must stop him…soon.
She would. She must. She couldn’t—not when the faint trace of sandalwood and something else, something elemental, enveloped her senses. With every breath she took, his masculine scent curled inside her like a sinful potion. Her skin heated, making her keenly aware of the fullness of her breasts and of the virile man who so easily led her astray. She wanted his kiss and so much more.
The heat of his body and the strength of his arms proved as impossible to resist as his kiss. Propriety demanded she stop him. He was not her husband, and a faux fiancé did not count. She knew almost nothing about him—other than he kissed very well. But, of course, she must not let pleasure overrule her morals.
Just a moment longer, she silently promised.
The room had grown dimmer even though it was only early afternoon. Rain pattered the window as he slid one big hand down the curve of her spine just above her hips. Then he pulled her tighter against him. Her breasts and belly were pressed all along the rock-hard contours of his body. The carnal embrace felt all too good as she threaded her fingers through the crisp strands of hair at his nape.
His mouth curved in a lopsided smile. “Oh, yes,” he murmured, wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Then he captured her lips again, commanding her to surrender to him once more.
He angled his head, and this time, he touched his tongue to her mouth. Stunned, she parted her lips involuntarily. He made a low sound in his throat, and then his tongue was inside her mouth. Shock held her immobile for a moment, but he angled his head in the other direction and deepened the kiss. Then he plucked at her lips twice and held still as if waiting for her to reciprocate.
If she was going to feel guilty later, she might as well enjoy sinning now. Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his. He made that rumbling sound once more and took the lead. In her dazed state, she slowly became aware that his wicked kisses were an imitation of a far more intimate act. He cupped her bottom and pressed his hips against her. Then she felt the unmistakable hardening of his sex. The thin layers of muslin and petticoat provided no defense at all. She ought to express horror and push away from him, but long-denied need rose up.
“I want you,” he said near her ear.
She gasped. There was no doubt what he asked of her. His vivid blue eyes grew darker, and she could swear he was drawing her in with them. In a distant part of her mind, she knew she ought to look away, but her befuddled brain froze.
Someone tapped on the drawing room doors. Bellingham released her and walked toward the window.
Laura shook her skirts with trembling hands and hurried to the door. Reed held out a small silver tray with a note. “This just arrived for you, my lady.”
She took the missive and dismissed Reed. Then she broke the seal.
Bellingham’s footsteps thudded as he crossed the room. “Is it bad news?”
“No, it is only a note from Lady Atherton canceling our drive today because of the weather.”
She started to step aside, but he caught her arm. “I dislodged one of your curls,” he said.
When she reached to find the errant curl, he batted her hand away. “Allow me.”
“Are you training to be a lady’s maid?” she said, resorting to sarcasm as a defense.
“No, I’ve plenty of experience,” he said.
“I’m not the least bit surprised.” She hoped the butler had not seen her disheveled hair. Now that Montclief had threatened to take Justin, she could ill afford gossip below-stairs.
“Chin down,” Bellingham said. As he lifted the errant lock, her scalp tingled. “So soft,” he said in an undertone. His breath sighed over her neck, a shivery sensation.
The masculine rumble of his voice called to the forbidden impulses inside her. He knew exactly how to cut through a lady’s defenses. Obviously he’d honed his seduction skills in order to get exactly what he wanted. Even though she’d known this, she’d still succumbed to his wicked kisses. All the years of adhering to her father’s strict moral teachings had scattered like torn bits of paper in the wind.
Bellingham pushed the pin in. “There now. You’re tidied up,” he said.
In any other situation, his words might have elicited a laugh from her, but there was nothing funny about the way she’d abandoned herself to him earlier. No doubt he hoped she would allow him additional liberties in the future. If so, she would disabuse him of that notion.
Anxious for him to leave, she cleared her throat. “I appreciate all you’ve done today, my lord.”
His eyes glinted with a wicked expression. “I believe you found it as rewarding as I did.”
Her face flushed. Oh, dear God, her morals had gone on holiday.
He took her hand and bowed over it. “I am at your service anytime, Laura.”
She snatched her hand back. How dare he use her Christian name? Then again, she’d certainly encouraged the rake to treat her like a trollop. At the moment, however, she didn’t have time to dwell on him or his “services.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re a busy man. I shan’t keep you from your important duties.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
His grin made him look rather boyish, but she must not allow his striking looks to distract her. She lifted her chin and said, “Let me be clear. What occurred this afternoon was a mistake on both our parts.”
“There was no mistake,” he said. “You freely gave me a kiss because I kept silent about our supposed engagement.”
“Well, you could have been more gentlemanly about it,” she said with a sniff.
“If I’d been gentlemanly, you wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much.”
“Hush,” she said. “This cannot happen again.”
“I agree. Your brother-in-law suspects us of an indiscretion. The last thing you need is to give him ammunition.”
Knowing that he was a rake, she’d half expected him to attempt to seduce her, but that was ridiculous. This was not one of those horrid novels with a villain snatching a damsel in distress. “I’m sorry for in
volving you in my troubles,” she said. “I couldn’t think of another way to stop Montclief.”
“He didn’t believe we’re engaged. If he inquires, you will blame me for abandoning you.”
She shook her head. “I cannot allow you to do that. Your reputation—”
“Would not suffer in the least if it came out,” he said. “It is unlikely our names will ever be linked after today, but if necessary, you will say you discovered I’m a scoundrel. No one will blame you.”
She suspected neither of them would get off so easily, but there was no point in borrowing trouble. “That is very, er, gallant of you, my lord,” she said, “but I couldn’t allow it.”
“Yes, you can, and you will if word of the engagement ever leaks. If you don’t do it, then honor will force us to wed. Since we’re both reluctant to marry, I think you’ll agree.”
“I agree that would be…unfortunate.” It would be disastrous. She couldn’t even imagine her family’s reaction.
“Good luck with your son,” he said.
She would need more than luck to bring Justin to heel. “I should take him home to Hampshire where there are no temptations to lure him.”
“There are temptations everywhere,” he said. “There is just more opportunity in London.” He bowed. “Good day, Lady Chesfield.”
After he quit the drawing room, Laura sank onto the sofa. She was more than a little unnerved by the events. One thing was certain. If not for Bellingham’s presence, matters with Montclief would have gone far worse for her and Justin.
Oddly, she felt a bit bereft after his departure, which was absurd. Their association had begun and ended today. She thought of his words. There are temptations everywhere.
She wondered if he’d meant her.
“Mr. Montclief inquires if you are at home.”
Virginia Holt, known as Lady Atherton to the ton, regarded her butler without a trace of guile, but inside something sparked to life. The dreary, rainy afternoon had suddenly become interesting. “Let Montclief cool his heels for twenty minutes and then show him up,” she said.
“Yes, my lady,” the butler said.
After the butler left, she walked over to the window and stood slightly behind the green and gold draperies. Montclief had arrived in a hired hack. He was a second son with no hope of inheriting. While his brother, the late Viscount Chesfield, had left his brother property and a substantial fortune, Virginia suspected Montclief had run through it and was now in debt.
She’d met him years ago at a ball and had disliked him upon first acquaintance. Montclief was the essence of a hypocrite, always toadying up to others and pretending to be sympathetic.
His brother had been a good friend to Virginia and her late husband, Alfred, for many years. They had always met during the London seasons, until Chesfield’s health took a downward turn shortly after his marriage to Laura. Thereafter, Alfred had kept up a correspondence with Chesfield, and it had become clear that his young wife was devoted to caring for him. Montclief had pretended concern for his brother’s health and used his growing family as an excuse for his absence. Phillip, bless him, had wanted to believe the best of his brother, and of course Virginia and Alfred had said nothing of their true feelings for Montclief.
Her poor opinion of Montclief had not altered since those days. If anything, her perception of him had taken a decided turn downward upon discovering he’d ignored his responsibilities to his ward.
But why had Montclief called upon her? Obviously he wanted something. Long ago, she’d discovered that men always had an objective. The subtleties that defined women’s conversation escaped all but the cleverest of them.
Montclief was neither subtle nor clever. Unlike his late brother, Montclief possessed only a mean understanding of the world around him. This was an important distinction to Virginia, as it meant that he was malleable and easily persuaded. He was also a damned fool for waiting in the antechamber for twenty minutes. A strong, confident man would never tolerate the delay.
Virginia treaded across the turkey carpet and poured herself a small sherry. When she was younger and foolish, she never would have indulged in spirits in the middle of the afternoon. She ought to have done that and far more when she’d been younger and still attractive, but society looked harshly upon younger women who did not observe the proprieties to the letter. Now that her sixty-fifth birthday had passed, Virginia reckoned that she’d earned the right to do as she pleased.
She glanced at the clock, finished her sherry, and returned to the settee. Moments later, her butler announced Montclief. Virginia rose and smiled serenely, but inwardly she was appalled at his appearance. He’d grown a potbelly and lost much of his hair. When he drew out a handkerchief and patted perspiration from his forehead, she hid her distaste.
“Montclief, this is a surprise. I’ve not seen you since Phillip’s funeral.” She’d written to him expressing her sympathies over his brother’s death, but he’d never replied.
“Grave matters have led me to London,” he said. “We’d best get to the point.”
His blunt manners hadn’t improved over the course of four years. She perched upon the sofa and indicated a chair with her beringed hand. When he sat, she noted his tight waistcoat gapped and she half expected a button to pop off from the strain. “Is all well with your family?”
“My own family is well, but there is trouble with my nephew.”
“Oh?” Virginia recollected Laura saying her son was at a trying age. Her boys were grown now, but they had been rowdy when they were young men.
“Imagine how I felt when friends wrote to inform me that Justin was running wild in London,” Montclief continued. “My sister-in-law Laura sent me a letter, rather belatedly I must confess, saying she was bringing him here. I am shocked and wounded that she did not consult me first.”
She doubted his sincerity. “Perhaps she did not realize that you expected it of her,” Virginia said. She knew Laura wouldn’t have thought to inform him, because Montclief had taken no responsibility for his ward.
He tugged on his tight waistcoat to no avail. “I’m the boy’s guardian, and she ought not to be making decisions without consulting me. I fear Justin is too difficult for her to manage.”
“I have only recently become acquainted in person with Lady Chesfield, though we have corresponded for some time. She appears to be practical and amiable. Did you discuss the situation with her?”
Montclief sighed. “I have something to tell you that will shock you. I never thought Laura capable of such deceit.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He pressed his lips together and drew in a breath. “Laura is involved in a liaison.”
Virginia’s lips parted. Last night, her protégé had claimed to have no interest in courtship. “Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I found her alone with that notorious rake Bellingham.”
Last night at Virginia’s ball, Bellingham had demanded that she give him Laura’s address so that he could return a flask that belonged to Justin. Virginia had suspected Bellingham hoped to make a conquest of Laura, but since he’d just seen her last night for the first time, she found the idea of a liaison improbable. “Perhaps you misinterpreted his reason for calling on her,” she said.
“I assure you I did not,” Montclief said. “Laura claimed that Bellingham was her fiancé, and he corroborated her convoluted story.”
Virginia had to restrain herself from gaping. The earl had made it clear as water that he had no intention of ever marrying, even though all of his property would default to the Crown. All the beau monde knew his intention to remain a bachelor, but that had not stopped ambitious mamas from trying to lure him. “This engagement is certainly sudden,” Virginia said.
“I’m sorry to inform you, but I feel certain they were lying,” Montclief said. “They said it was a secret engagement.”
Virginia’s thoughts raced. Why would Bellingham do such a thing? He was known for acting i
n a logical and methodical manner. She concluded there were missing pieces to the puzzle. “Did they indicate why they wished to keep their engagement a secret?”
Montclief mopped his forehead again. “Some foolishness about gradually introducing my nephew to Bellingham. They must have cooked this goose at the spur of the moment to hide their licentious behavior.” His nostrils flared. “I never suspected she was a shameless hussy beneath her veneer of respectability.”
Virginia knew differently. “Her father is a vicar, you know.”
“But what do we really know about her? Of course, my dearly departed brother was smitten when he met her, even though she was far beneath him. Now I fear she came to London with the express purpose of finding a lover.”
Virginia was tempted to ask if his knowledge came from firsthand experience, but she would not lower herself. “Of course, you’re concerned about your nephew. Are you planning to stay in London for the remainder of the season?”
“I can’t,” Montclief said. “You know I have a large family, and the expense would beggar me. That is why I need your assistance.”
Virginia frowned. Surely he wasn’t begging for money. “What precisely are you asking of me?”
“Keep an eye on Laura. I dislike deception, but I believe in this instance we must fight fire with fire.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Gain her confidence. Encourage her to talk and pretend to sympathize with her. Then send me a letter with a report of her actions.”
Virginia touched her high collar and shrank back from him.
“Lady Atherton, please forgive me, but I am concerned about my nephew. I would take him to my home, but he wasn’t even present when I arrived. I doubt Laura knows or even cares what he is doing. If I am right, and I fear I am, I want proof that she is having a liaison with that rake while my innocent nephew resides with her.”
Virginia reached for her silver vinaigrette, flicked it open, and sniffed the restorative. He really was an odious man. “She has cared for the boy these past four years,” Virginia said as she set the silver case aside.
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