‘I don’t think you understand.’ There was a bittersweet quality to her voice. ‘I can’t go climbing out my bedroom window every night. That’s a ruse that only works once, and maybe not even once. If I’m not back soon, my parents…’
‘Your bedroom window? Your parents?’ Dashiell repeated the phrases carefully but there was no way of avoiding the conclusion. ‘Good God, you’re Graybourne’s daughter.’
Chapter Seven
Dashiell regretted voicing those words immediately. Elisabeth paled. She stepped backwards out of his embrace, a hand clapped across her mouth, realizing she’d said too much. If she’d been dressed, Dashiell was certain she would have bolted from the room. As it was, she began a frantic search for her clothes, her other hand clutching the quilt tightly about her. All she could manage to say was, ‘I have to go.’
Dashiell let her dress. She needed to do something and goodness knew he needed a few moments to think. Her revelation was something of a stunner. Here he’d thought he had escaped meeting the dreaded Four Season Failure. Instead he’d bedded her and she’d been anything but.
The irony was worthy of a Greek Tragedy. His uncle would tell him his fate tonight was most deserving. He’d abandoned a dinner party and deflowered the host’s daughter all in the span of ten hours. Even for him, that was quite an evening.
But Dashiell was hard-pressed to find the tragedy in it. The evening had been the best night he’d had in ages. He wanted her to feel the same. He watched Elisabeth shove a foot into a boot, her hands trembling in their haste.
Dashiell crossed the room and squatted down beside her, taking her hands in his own.
‘Your hands are shaking. Are you that desperate to get away from me?’ He tried for levity.
‘You still haven’t answered my proposition.’
‘You’ve answered your own question. I’m Graybourne’s daughter. I can’t go chasing comets with strangers,’ Elisabeth said simply. He was at eye level with her. He could see the worry in her gaze and the regret, too. ‘Are you going to tell anyone about this?’ she asked cautiously. It was a brave question. She wasn’t begging him for his silence, she was merely inquiring, wanting to know his verdict.
Dashiell was well aware he held her future in his hands.
One word from him and she’d be ruined beyond redemption. Dashiell shook his head.
‘No.’ He didn’t want her ruined. He wanted her…happy. He reached out to absently tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I want you to find your comet and I want to be there when you do. Graybourne’s daughter or not, my offer still stands.’
She spoke slowly, deliberately. ‘Such an offer raises your stakes in this. One night can be justified for a man. But two or more? People will think this looks like an elopement and that is not so easily explained away for either a man or a woman.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘I am not a newcomer to the world of Society, Elisabeth.’ He fully understood they were in this together now. Discovery would be damning for them both. ‘I am not unwilling to take this gamble.’
He was conscious of her studying him, letting the silence build between them until she whispered a single sentence full of amazement. ‘Why would you risk this for me?’
Because no woman had ever walked away from him and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start that now. But it was so much more than manly pride. The reasons went far beyond sex.
He would fight for Elisabeth and her dream. Somehow in the span of hours, she’d touched his very soul, a place that proved unreachable for so many others.
Dashiell gave a soft laugh and felt himself smile. ‘You make me feel alive, which is something I haven’t felt for a very long time.’ He took her cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb idly stroking the delicate line of her jaw. ‘I don’t want to let you go, Elisabeth. I don’t want this to end.’
He would die if it did. This was his chance to live. ‘Say you’ll come.’
She was weighing it all; the risks against the pleasures, the present against the future.
His Elisabeth was smart. She knew how to make a decision. Her eyes softened. She had made her choice. ‘Yes, I will come.’
He leaned in to capture her mouth with a kiss, his body rousing for her. She was all compliance as he eased her backwards onto the wide planes of the chair.
Dashiell raised himself up over her and hesitated for a moment. ‘Why, Elisabeth? What changed your mind?’
Then she whispered the words her body had already spoken: ‘I want you, Dashiell. I want what we can be together.’
It was all the endorsement he needed. Dashiell knelt at her feet, pulling swiftly at the boots she’d so laboriously stuffed her feet into moments ago. He tugged at her trousers, sliding them over slim hips and long, elegant limbs until all that hid her from his view were the tails of her shirt. He rose quickly and took off his own trousers and knelt again, pushing the shirt up past her stomach and she was revealed in her feminine entirety.
‘Dashiell…’ She struggled to rise, her face flushed with her discomfiture at his intimate position, her cognac eyes mirroring her mind’s uncertainty about his intentions. He gently pushed her back. ‘Hush, Elisabeth, you’ll like this, I promise.’ He blew at her curls, feathering them with his breath, eliciting a gasp of pleasant surprise. He put his mouth to her until she arched hard against him and came undone.
She was a veritable angel in climax; her back arched, supple and lean in its curve, her butter-yellow hair spilling about the worn cushions. The sight of her caught up in pleasure was nearly his own undoing.
The initial wave of her pleasure subsided and she reached for him, drawing him down to her with a softly whispered invitation, ‘Come join me, Dashiell. I’d wager pleasure is best when shared.’
He was lost then. For a woman of untried origins, his Elisabeth was a temptress of the first water. He could no more resist her than Adam could resist Eve. He took her with a hard thrust, her body pulsing around him as it welcomed him, sheathed him. She met him thrust for thrust, her body matching him, driving him to the edge of his control until he gave a final thrust and spilled deep inside her.
He was breathless and complete in the moments that followed. This was unprecedented.
Not once but twice now, Elisabeth had managed to render him replete. Not depleted, not exhausted, but replete, fulfilled.
‘I think this is much better than what I’d have been doing at home.’ Elisabeth curled against his side, his head on her chest.
‘What would that have been?’ Dashiell idly played with her hair, combing through it with his fingers.
‘Entertaining another boring suitor at my mother’s dinner party.’ Elisabeth sighed drowsily. ‘I didn’t even know his name but no one seemed to care. Only his title mattered.
This one was the Earl of Heathridge’s heir and bound to be the worst of the lot, nothing like you at all.’ She tossed him a smug smile full of contentment.
Dashiell’s hand stilled. ‘Well, you never know.’
Chapter Eight
He should tell her. Ethically it was the right thing to do but Dashiell could not bring himself to it while they lazed away the early morning hours in each other’s arms. Nor could he bring himself to do it as they dressed and scribbled a hasty note to Sir Richard of their intentions to go on to the fishing village of Burnham-on-Crouch in hopes of better viewing of the comet.
Dashiell’s only defense in keeping his secret was that knowing would ruin everything, including her chances of seeing the comet tonight. Elisabeth would be initially mortified if she knew he was Heathridge’s heir and in her mortification, she would refuse the use of his carriage. More than that, she’d refuse to continue her quest and her dream of seeing the comet would come to an abrupt end. He couldn’t do that to her.
In more honest moments, he couldn’t do that to himself. He was liking this ‘last adventure’ far too much. He liked being Dashiell the man; the man who saw stars through telescopes, who made love to a beautif
ul woman in a worn-out chair, who made impulsive decisions to chase comets without worrying whose dinner invitation would suffer in his absence. When he was with Elisabeth, he was the man he wanted to be and he was not ready to give it up even if it meant this little deception for a short while.
He’d even convinced himself this could end well, that someday they would laugh about it. Heathridge’s heir was supposed to marry Graybourne’s daughter, after all. To think they’d actually found happiness together would be a marvellous addition.
‘There, I think we’re ready to go. I just have to get one last thing.’ Elisabeth tossed him a smile over her shoulder as she strode to a far corner of the room and searched through a stack of items propped against the wall. ‘Found it!’ she declared triumphantly, holding a long circular case aloft. ‘My telescope,’ she explained as they headed downstairs, her case in one hand, a brass tripod in another. ‘I can’t keep it at home.’
They were on the road to Burnham-on-Crouch by half past nine and Dashiell could not recall the last time he’d done anything this early in the morning. Even the simple feat of getting out of bed hadn’t occurred until noon. But Elisabeth looked fresh and energized.
She’d changed into a dark green dress of merino wool she produced from her valise and her hair was pulled into one long ponytail that hung over her right shoulder. No one would guess she’d been up most the night. Her eyes sparkled with a vibrant energy and she looked as content as he felt.
‘Why can’t you keep your telescope at home?’ His curiosity was piqued. He knew women who kept tiny dogs, who collected china shepherdesses but he’d never known a woman who kept a telescope as a cherished possession, and it was cherished. She hadn’t let him carry it although he’d offered and she hadn’t let him stow it with her valise in the boot of the carriage. The telescope remained on the seat with her.
Her eyes took on a defiant cast. ‘My parents don’t approve of astronomy for girls. It’s not a feminine pursuit. My mother insists no man wants a wife who spends her nights looking at the stars.’ There was a touch of steel and vehemence to her voice that impressed Dashiell.
She’d kept her own interests in the field alive against the wishes of her family. It spoke to the strength of her character.
‘Perhaps a fellow astronomer would,’ Dashiell ventured.
She gave him a sardonic look. ‘Do you know several earls or dukes who have cultivated that area of study?’
‘Touché, Elisabeth.’ Dashiell stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.
‘My parents want an advantageous marriage for me even though I’ve been out for four Seasons and it appears hopeless. They will not settle for less than an earl,’ Elisabeth said softly.
‘Is that a warning? Are you trying to spare my feelings in case you have to reject me later?’ Dashiell teased.
But Elisabeth would not be teased on the subject. ‘There is to be this one adventure, Dashiell. There will be nothing beyond it. For the sake of my father’s political ambitions, I must marry well if I marry at all. This trip to Burnham is all there can be. After tomorrow, I must go back to London and make reparations to my parents and pick up the threads of the life they want me to lead.’
Dashiell understood this was her way of discussing what had occurred between them last night and this morning, and what would occur in the nearest future he could arrange.
His need for her was fast becoming insatiable.
‘What if I turn out to be an earl in disguise?’ Dashiell queried. He would have to tell her sometime, he might as well sound out that avenue.
‘Be serious for a moment,’ Elisabeth chided him, but she smiled when she said it. ‘This isn’t a fairy tale, Dashiell. Obviously you’re someone of import or else you wouldn’t have been on my mother’s guest list. That’s why I thought you should know what my circumstances are.’
Because you might think yourself more worthy than you are. Oh, he heard the message alright even couched as it was in polite language. Dashiell crossed his arms. She could warn him all she wanted but in the end he’d push his cause all the same. He was not a man to give up a challenge simply because someone asked him to, not even if that someone was quickly stealing his heart. ‘In honour of the request to be serious, I must point out, Elisabeth, there could be consequences from our adventure. We’ve been together twice now.’
‘I’m confident we’ll be safe in that regard.’ Elisabeth met his gaze evenly.
‘Why is that? Mother Nature doesn’t care if it’s your first time or your sixtieth.’ Now it was time for her to be serious.
‘Mother Nature must answer to the rhythms of the universe like the rest of us. It’s not my time of the month to conceive.’ She gave him a sly smile. ‘There’s a lot more to studying the stars in their orbits than just knowing the constellations.’
‘I can see I have a lot to learn.’ Dashiell leaned forward in earnest. ‘It’s a good two hours to Burnham, Elisabeth. Why don’t you tell me about your comet?’
That was how the most important conversation of her life began. It started out as an exposition of her comet. She told him how this particular sighting would prove the comet was on a returning orbit. This particular return was important because it would be the third official sighting. After three such well-timed sightings, no one could any longer doubt that the comet was on a seventy-six-year cycle.
Breathless with her enthusiasm, she told him about her predictions about the comet, how she’d made the calculations; she told him how much more scientists could learn with this passing of the comet than ever before. Thanks to advances made in refractory lenses and telescopic construction, they would be able to see the comet’s make-up in more detail.
‘And that’s why you climbed out the window?’ Dashiell interjected at one point.
‘Yes.’ Elisabeth paused and drew a breath. ‘No. Yes, I want to see the comet. It represents a capstone to my work, to my passion. But no, it’s not the only reason. It’s more of a catalyst. I knew if I didn’t climb out that window and stand up for what I wanted now, I never would.’
Elisabeth looked down at her hands resting in her lap, wondering if she should say more. She’d never revealed this much of herself to anyone. In some ways telling Dashiell these things now was every bit as intimate as the physical things they had done in the night.
But the fear she usually felt over such revelations was absent. In ways she couldn’t explain, she knew Dashiell would understand.
‘I’ve always thought I was strong. I pursued my astronomy in secret. I continued to study with Sir Richard against my parents’ wishes. But I was starting to realize, secret rebellions aren’t quite the same as an overt show of strength. This time, my parents will know I’m gone and they will know why. I will have proven to them and to myself I have the courage to go after what I want.’
It wasn’t a pretty speech, delivered in the flowing tones of an orator. It was a halting speech as she gathered the right words to give life to the thoughts she’d harboured in her mind but never voiced out loud.
She did not have practice with this particular confession. But when she was finished, Dashiell was smiling at her. This was not one of his wolfish smiles or one of his sensual smiles she’d come to know so well. This was a smile of admiration.
‘Brava, Elisabeth,’ he said softly. ‘When I tell you I’ve never met anyone like you, it is the absolute truth.’ He was not mocking her, not flirting with her, not tolerating her, not any of the hundred things men had been with her, hoping to humour her into matrimony and turning over her dowry. Dashiell was validating her.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you, either.’ She wished she had better words to express that sentiment. It sounded trite but she meant it to her core.
‘If we’re not careful this might become a mutual admiration society.’ Dashiell gave a sensual laugh, low and private.
Or worse, Elisabeth thought. I might fall in love with the most unsuitable of men unde
r the most unsuitable of circumstances.
The carriage came to a halt and the driver called down that they’d arrived. But Dashiell didn’t move to get out. Instead he turned serious and reached for her hand.
‘If this is all we’re to have together, let us swear to make it count…every minute, every moment of our time in Burnham.’ Dashiell held her eyes with a solemn gaze as he raised her hand to his lips and sealed the pledge with a kiss. ‘To making it count, Elisabeth.’
When he looked at her like that with hot blue eyes full of approval for what she was and not what she ought to be, ‘might’ became irrelevant, seeing as how she’d already fallen.
Chapter Nine
Burnham-on-Crouch was fifteen miles away, not so very far in distance, but much farther in terms of Society and luxury. They arrived close to noon to discover the village was bustling with holiday trade and fishermen driven to land by the icy December waters. The number of people on the streets created an almost festive atmosphere.
‘I’d forgotten it was so close to Christmas,’ Elisabeth commented, stepping down from the carriage in front of an inn on the main street. A little wave of guilt swept through her.
She’d been intensely focused on the comet to the exclusion of everything else these past weeks. Except for Dashiell, she hastily amended. He’d commandeered more than a slice of her attentions. She’d tried to ignore him in the garden. She’d abandoned him for her work in the observatory and still he’d stayed. He was proving to be quite persistent and she was glad.
She didn’t know if she’d have made it this far if it hadn’t been for him. Most likely, she would have either returned home or at best decided to risk one more night at Sir Richard’s.
An Illicit Indiscretion (A Sinful Regency Christmas) Page 4