42 Bonnie Hamre
have him for her lover.
As she thought of the final interview, the one in which she finally allowed him to take her, anticipation filled her with moistness between her thighs. This man, whoever he was, was just the one to dismiss Sutherland from her thoughts.
"Something amuses you?" Sutherland queried.
She spared him a questioning glance.
"Your smile," he explained. "It reminds me of the cat at the cream."
She laughed. How astute he was. Suddenly she was enjoying herself in his company. Now that she no longer had to worry about her heart, she could allow herself to enjoy his quick wit. "The word is about, your grace, that you are in need of a wife."
His rapidly cocked eyebrow was his only reaction to the change in subject.
"Yes. Have you thought of your requirements yet? Perhaps a wife who will keep you pleasantly occupied at home—"
"Pleasantly occupied?" he interrupted. "By that do you mean cozy evenings before the fire?"
"However you wish to enjoy yourself," she murmured, a small teasing smile on her lips. "However, I would imagine that it is time you saw to establishing your nurseries for your heirs."
"Indeed? And have you chosen my future duchess?"
"H'mm." She smiled at his serious tone. "I shall have to give that some thought. Perhaps Caroline, Lady Arbuthnott's niece. You recall, you met her at the opera one evening."
"The young lady just making her come out? She seemed interested enough," he admitted with a modest smile.
"It would appear so. She is very beautiful, don't you think?"
"Is she? I didn't notice. I shall have to make that observation myself."
Antonia stomach clutched at the thought of Sutherland looking at and enjoying other women. Evidently she had been premature in thinking she could speak like this with him and not suffer the penalty. She made herself keep her tone light. "She is of good family. Not as distinguished as your own, of course, but well established.
A Lady's Quest 43
She would be a good match."
He nodded. "She is certainly young enough to fill the nurseries with no problem, but would she have the proper conversation to keep me entertained?"
"Ah." She paused as if giving thought to his questions. In truth, she struggled with the temptation to offer herself for his consideration. "That complicates matters. Entertaining conversation is a requirement, then?"
"Most definitely. I should hate to be bored by a wife with only one talent."
"That talent would be—" she questioned delicately.
"Providing my heir."
She exhaled. "What else would you require? Perhaps I could be of some assistance in finding the right wife for you."
He laughed. "You might at that."
"Well, come then, tell me what you want in a wife, and I shall endeavor to help you."
"Very well. Let me see. I want a woman with passable good looks—"
"Just passable?" she interrupted.
"More would be preferable, but so long as she is not a gargoyle—"
"Your grace! Very well," she managed through her laughter. "No gargoyles."
"To continue, then. A woman who I enjoy looking at, a woman with intelligent conversation, someone who will not bore me before the month is out."
"You are serious?"
"Absolutely."
She didn't know what to say. Clearly Sutherland was made of different cloth from other men.
I should also like a woman to be well attired, but that is up to me. I shall dress her well."
Autonia took exception to that. "And if the woman you choose to dress prefers her own taste in clothing?"
If it is satisfactory to me, I should allow her to continue. No
44 Bonnie Hamre
billowing flounces or lace up to her ears."
Antonia glanced at the sleek lines of her gown and hid a smile at the image his words presented. Without trouble, she could visualize a woman smothered in lace and furbelows, with only her nose and eyes visible. At that, it wouldn't matter if she were less than passable.
"Share the jest with me," he suggested.
She did. Their laughter mingled and drew curious glances. Antonia ignored them.
"What else would you like in a wife?"
"Let's see. We have looks, heirs, intelligence, the outer wrappings. What else is there?"
"Ah," she sagely. "What about the inner woman?"
"The what?"
She gathered her thoughts. "Have you never envisioned what kind of woman? So far, we have discussed all the exterior things, but what about the qualities that must wear well to last a lifetime together?"
His gaze sharpened. "And what would those be?"
"Patience. Good humor, tolerance for one another. A loving disposition. Fidelity. Anything you would want specifically?"
"Ah. I see what you mean. Indeed, those are admirable qualities. Yes, I should want all those, and more."
"And what are they?"
"Loyalty. A spirit of adventure," he said with a private smile Antonia found intriguing. "Faith in me. An acceptance of me as the man I am, of my heritage."
She listened to his Scots burr. "You would want your wife to live on your estates in Scotland? I hear it is very cold."
"It can be. It is also wild, rugged, beautiful country. My wife would not spend all her time in the Highlands, but I would expect my children to be born on land I inherited from my ancestors."
She nodded. "That is reasonable. Is there anything else your wife would have to do in Scotland?"
"Perhaps she could learn to fish?"
Her eyes widened. "I understand fishing is a solitary, silent activity. Would you want her chatter to scare away the fish?"
A Lady's Quest 45
"Ah, but remember, my wife would have intelligent conversation." He grinned, his teeth gleaming in his tanned face. The candlelight accentuated the interesting hollows in his cheeks and flattered his manly looks. "It follows that she would also know when to refrain from speaking."
"I see. So while you are fishing together, she is to keep silent and save her conversation for the drawing room."
"And elsewhere."
"Where?"
"Bed," he said bluntly.
She felt her eyes widen. "Bed?"
"Aye. I like a woman to tell me what she likes, what pleasures her. I should expect my wife to do no less."
Antonia swallowed. "Yours will be a most unusual marriage, your grace. Quite the exception to stylish marriages."
"My marriage will be not be a Society alliance for the usual reasons, but a lifelong union. There will be no others for either of us."
"How can you be so sure, your grace?"
"You have forgotten the most important ingredient to a successful marriage, Antonia. It is my chief requirement."
She hesitated to ask, but could not bear not to know the answer. "And that is?"
"Love. My wife shall love me beyond everything."
"Oh," she said faintly. "Is that not one-sided? Will you not love your wife in return?"
"I already do, Antonia."
It sounds as though you have already chosen your wife, your
grace."
"I have."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Antonia lay sleepless. By all rights she should be sleeping soundly after her late night and the most satisfying way she had been pleasured by her anonymous lover, but her conversation with Sutherland kept her awake.
She hadn't known before how enjoyable conversing with him would prove to be. She'd reveled in their verbal sparring for the lift it gave her spirits. It had made her feel as if she danced on the edge of a cliff.
To fence with him with words always made her feel that she'd come away from a perilous encounter with all her parts in place. She'd enjoyed the danger, the element of risk in dueling with a man reputed to be as good with a blade as he was a lover. Their conversation over the delicious midnight supper had been ent
ertaining, suggestive, and had allowed her a glimpse of what she had renounced.
She envied the woman he had chosen to be his wife. Whoever she was, she was an extremely fortunate woman. To have won his love, to have him forswear his mistresses to be faithful to her alone was singularly rare. And for him to have done this without the gossips of the ton at his heels was another extraordinary feat. He had them all buzzing with his pursuit of her while he was actually courting another.
Whoever the unknown woman was, she had much to be thankful for. Sutherland would kept her identity secret until he was
A Lady's Quest 47
ready to announce their engagement, protecting her privacy and her good name until he was ready to give her his.
Clever, clever man. She admired his strategy so much that she could forgive him using her as a blind for his true activities. She should resent the attention he'd paid her, the unbelievable tale he'd told of hastening back to London when he'd heard she was free of Effingdale. She should be furious for making her a laughingstock with his public pursuit of her.
Many gentlemen of the ton had placed wagers on the outcome of the chase. The betting books in Whites and the other clubs had page after page of entries that the Duke of S would make Lady B-S his mistress before the Season was over. She'd heard the tremendous sums being wagered on the outcome of Sutherland's public hunting her through the ballrooms and drawing rooms of their acquaintances.
She should be angry and plotting his set-down, but instead she
was envious of the woman he had chosen. Envious, and more than
regretful that she would have to relinquish Sutherland's company.
It would be too painful to meet him when he had his duchess on
his arm.
She tossed restlessly. Much good it did her now to wonder what it would be like to have Sutherland love her. For all she'd renounced marrying again, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be his duchess, to share his life. Sighing, she turned on her side and drew her legs up. At least she had her wonderfully imaginative lover to console her. She'd content herself in his arms.
When she woke late the next-day, Clarry was already bustling around her bedchamber. Steam from a tub of water curled up through sunshine streaming in the opened windows. The scent of roses from her garden perfumed the air as freely as the bath salts Clarry poured into the bath.
Antonia stretched. "Good morning, Clarry. How late have I slept?"
Clarry turned and placed her hands on her hips. "It's not morn-
§ any longer, milady, and if you intend to keep your appointment
48 Bonnie Hamre
this afternoon, you'd better get up out that bed and into the tub."
Antonia blinked at Clarry's tone, but didn't have the heart to scold her. "What's the matter with you?"
"It's that tired I am of this constant traipsing over to that rooming house and you carrying on while I wait with the footmen. Aren't you done yet? How much longer do we have to twiddle our thumbs?"
"Today is the last time, I promise. Today I'll tell him that I've chosen him to be my lover." Antonia stretched, feeling energy rush through her body as she thought of the way she would inform him. Now he was just "him," but later, she would know his identity and have a name to put to that magnificent male body. He would be pleased, and proud, that she had chosen him out of all the others, but determined to make her happy with her choice. "I can hardly wait to see his face."
Clarry turned her back, all at once quite busy laying out
Antonia's clothes. "What if you don't like him once you see who
he is?"
"Why should I not like him? Is there something wrong with him?"
"Not that I know, milady, but you never can tell. He might be not what you want, after all."
"You're acting very strange, Clarry. If I weren't late, you can believe we'd have all this mysterious behavior out."
"You can ask me anything you want later, milady. I'll tell you everything."
Antonia wondered at Clarry's words while she rushed though her bath and her dressing ritual. She had nothing planned for this evening, and she would not go to bed until she had cleared up the reason for Clarry's puzzling manner.
She dressed quickly, in a simply cut afternoon gown of a deep blue that flattered her pale skin and hair. As she placed a small drop of perfume behind her ears and between her breasts, she eagerly waited her lover's reaction to her preparations for him.
She donned the veiled hat, knowing it was the last time she'd do so, and was soon on her way to her last interview. Eagerly,
A Lady's Quest 49
she rode through the streets of London until they reached the now familiar street and rooming house. Only the barely concealed smirks on her footmen's faces kept her from lifting her skirts and running up the stairs in her impatience to meet her lover. He hadn't arrived yet, which disappointed her, yet she used the time to prepare herself for one last anonymous encounter.
Moments later, reclining on the sofa instead of the bed, she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, then the murmurs in the outer room. She stopped breathing until she heard the door open and close behind him.
She breathed again as she heard him approach the bed. Today she'd had Clarry leave the heavy drapes slightly open and the windows open to the warm afternoon. The street scents and sounds mingled with his. Together, they made a heady, earthy combination.
"Will you speak today?"
He said nothing.
"That will be acceptable for now, but later," her voice dropped as she promised, "later, you will speak with me."
She waited excitedly for him to begin. She had left off the robe, keeping on only the mask. She heard his breathing, then felt his body as he stood over her. She felt his heat and trembled with anticipated passion.
Watching her, Sutherland stripped off his shirt and trousers, leaving himself nude. He was already erect, his cock hard and aching. Willing himself to ignore his own desire, he took a deep breath and began as he had begun before, with soft, delicate touches on her skin that soon had her craving more.
Her skin heated under his touch as the fine hairs quivered under his fingertips. He'd brought none of his seductive toys in his box of sexual tricks, wanting to rely only on himself and her ardent response to his lovemaking.
Her skin was smooth and silky, delicately perfumed by both a oral fragrance and her own personal musk. The heady mixture swamped his senses, increasing his hunger for her and his determation to make their lovemaking so perfect that she'd have no
50 Bonnie Hamre
cause for complaint when he drew the mask from her and she discovered his identity.
She would have no reason to refuse him.
He placed little kisses on every inch of her skin, beginning with her toes and working up to her mouth. By the time he reached it, she was panting. The silken mask presented only the flimsiest barriers, but he managed, by the merest thread, to control the urge to tear away the mask and plunder her soft recesses.
He kissed her as he had been longing to, with nips at her lips, tracing the outline of her lips with his. He savored the taste of her mouth as he had relished the taste and texture of her everywhere else. The silk mask tore at one corner of the mouth opening. He pulled it further apart to reach more of her.
She didn't protest. Instead, she opened her mouth to him and he swept in, conquering and being conquered at the same time. She was delectable and heady, like the strongest whiskey and the sweetest meadow flower. Like honey, he lapped at her until she moaned and dueled with his tongue, circling it with her own and darting into his mouth to taste him.
At last they broke apart, breathing heavily, stunned by the emotions they'd aroused in each other. Though he knew she was as lusty and passionate as he, to feel her become aggressive with his mouth stimulated him and made him crave more. He wanted everything with her.
He reached for the mask.
Antonia forestalled him. "No, not yet."<
br />
He stopped. So his lady was still unsure of him. Very well. That would be rectified. He removed some of the plump damask pillows behind her and repositioned her so that she lay sprawling against the cushions, her satiny thighs open to him and her feet resting on the thick carpet.
He dropped to his knees between her thighs and caressed her legs from ankle to thigh. When she moaned and shivered, he lowered his mouth to drink from her. She cried out as his tongue entered her, she convulsed immediately. Her orgasm delighted and
A lady's Quest 51
spurred him onward. He kissed her repeatedly, using his tongue on her intimate folds, tasting, savoring, teasing, learning her tastes and textures and always demanding greater passion from her.
"More," she moaned, unknowingly echoing his hunger. He increased his pace, his tongue now flickering on the swollen tissues, now entering her slick passage, varying his technique until her hands clutched his bare shoulders, her nails buried deeply, as she urged him upward to enter her.
"Please, now, I need you now."
He sat back on his heels, breathing heavily, his mouth full of the taste of her as he contemplated how he would take her. He could rise on his knees, pierce her and thrust until they shattered together. If he did that, he could suckle at her breasts at the same time. The thought tempted even as he considered other positions. Draw her to the carpet with him, turn her over and enter her from behind? Stretch her out on the sofa and cover her?
While he debated which would afford them the most pleasure, she reached down and took his stiff yard in her hand. He bucked and almost spent his seed until he gritted his teeth and commanded himself to resist the fierce ecstasy.
With soft fingers, she measured and pleasured him. She played with him, alternating featherlight strokes with harder ones, then cupping his sac and rolling his testicles gently in her hand. He closed his eyes, willing himself to remain motionless, gripped by passion, until he though he'd lose control. He grasped her hand, stilling the motion, until she released him and lay back.
He stood and scooped her up into his arms. With a few long strides, he reached the bed and kissing her, leaned over to place her the way he wanted her. She let him do as he would with her. Triumphantly, possessively, he lowered himself beside her, stretching his longer length next to hers and he bent his head to take her nipple in his mouth.
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