by Fiona Miers
“Mister Willoughby, if she isn’t what you want...” The madam began, with an angry glint in her eye.
“She was lovely, beautiful. I just can’t tonight...” Rupert made sure to say this, not wanting the poor girl to be punished for his lack of focus. He threw too much money at the woman, flung open the heavy door and stepped out into the clean air.
Dishevelled, embarrassed, but whole, Rupert took a big breath and shook his head. With a heavy sigh, he gestured to a passing hackney carriage and made his way home.
Chapter 6
Lizzie had been almost yawning through a casual evening of socializing, until she heard a woman over her shoulder sigh and say with a gush, “Oh, he came. I hoped he would.”
Lizzie closed her eyes, fighting the urge to drop her head into her hands. She knew Rupert was a rake, every woman in London seemed to know him intimately, but did it really have to be thrown around her like the latest fashions? Lizzie had assumed that such knowledge about a gentleman would make him distasteful. Unfortunately, nothing about Rupert was off putting. Instead, the knowledge of how desirable everyone found him made her nervous and the fact that he seemed to still be pursuing her despite all of her knock backs, made her excited to see him. To see the interest in his eyes and feel the feminine satisfaction of having such an masterful male want her. Because he did, he had made that rather perfectly clear.
Lizzie turned to the elderly lady beside whom she’d been sitting and asked her a question about how she had enjoyed her dinner. It took every ounce of effort she possessed to focus on the woman who was answering her question, but for the life of her, Lizzie didn’t hear the words.
Lizzie refused to turn to look as he walked over to her, but her skin goose bumped in uncomfortable awareness.
“Mrs Symmons,” drawled the amused voice from behind her.
She quelled the instant smile that sprang to her lips and instead raised herself to her feet and turned around. There he stood, all six foot four inches of male muscle and strength. Lizzie tilted her head to look at him and gave him a very small smile.
“Good evening, Mr. Willoughby,” she greeted him, curtsying appropriately.
“Would you care for a turn around the grounds Mrs Symmons? The gardens are very fine.”
“Thank you, sir, but I would much prefer to see the music room. Do you know where it is?” she asked, with as straight a face as she could manage, considering how amused she actually was.
It was quite obvious to her that Rupert had never had to pursue a woman before. He had none of the normal subtleties. He was playing no games. Like a bull at a gate, he had her in his sights and he was charging.
Lizzie had known that the first thing Rupert would try to do, would be to lure her somewhere where they would have privacy. Although Lizzie had a feeling that she would enjoy being alone with Rupert, perhaps staying inside the house would be safer for her sanity and her reputation.
“I do indeed, Mrs Symmons,” Rupert said smiling, offering Lizzie his arm and drawing her close as they walked in search of the music room. His size and warmth made her knees shake a little, the need to lean on his strength a deep need within her
“Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Lizzie?” he asked, as they walked along the hall and entered the vacant music room.
“I am enjoying myself, thank you, Rupert,” Lizzie answered, allowing her hand to fall from his arm and walking to a wall where several string instruments were mounted. She needed a little bit of distance so she could think a little more clearly. Her need for a husband and indeed a will built man was beginning to make itself far too clear to her.
“Do you play, Lizzie?” Rupert asked her, running his hand lovingly over the keys of the piano forte.
Lizzie’s laugh rang clear in the air, too loud as always. She closed her mouth and put her hand on her belly to stifle the trembling there.
“I wish I did. My mother didn’t believe it was worth the time to practice music, but languages, that she would abide me practicing.”
She smiled at the memory of her many lessons. Her late mother had indeed been an unusual woman and Lizzie still missed her so much, it hurt a little most days.
“How many languages do you speak?”
“Not many,” she lied, then laughed again as though he had told a good joke. He really didn’t want to know. Most men found her intelligence intimidating and the others insulted her, calling her a bluestocking.
Rupert growled in response, coming up behind her, grabbing her and tickling her in the ribs as though she were a child. Lizzie spun around, giggling despite herself. She had rarely been tickled, even as a child. What a strange thing for him to do.
“Tell me how many languages you speak,” he demanded to know, scowling with what looked like mock outrage. Lizzie took a few steps back, then gasped as the wall pressed into her back. Rupert had stalked her right up to edge of the room and despite her earlier reservations about his dishonourable intentions, she didn’t feel at all scared of him.
Lizzie’s eyes darted around the room. They were alone now, but what would happen if someone walked in? She put her hands up to rest upon his chest, but made no move to push him away. His chest was warm and rock solid, her imagination running wild as she imagined what sort of body lay beneath her fingers.
He stepped closer, bringing his hands up to her face and tipping her lips up to his. Her eyes opened in surprise and without apparent hesitation, he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers, softly, reverently.
Lizzie held herself very still, feeling the warmth of his full lips caress hers and a wonderful stirring of pleasure rising in her belly. Determined to get full measure from this kiss, she raised herself up onto her toes and threw her arms around his neck as she had seen her maid do once to one of the footmen. She pressed her lips against his and clung, hoping he would know what else to do. She had rarely been kissed by her husband and didn’t quite know what else she should expect.
He dropped his hands to her hips and pulled her pelvis into him, causing a spark of arousal to course through her. Rupert dipped his tongue into her mouth and she moaned, which seemed to encourage him, as he plundered further.
Lizzie was being swept into the most amazing kiss of her life. Rupert was holding her as though he desired her desperately and kissing her as though she were the only one he’d ever wanted. She kissed him back as enthusiastically as she knew how to do. Stroking his tongue with her own and gripping his black shoulder length hair in her hands.
“The music room is this way, I believe.” A female voice was coming from further down the hallway.
Rupert and Lizzie both heard it. Breaking apart violently, Rupert moved quickly over to a book case, presenting his back to the doorway to make it look as though he were searching for a book.
Lizzie took a moment to realize she needed an occupation and saw a pack of cards on a small table. She quickly hurried over to a chair and picked them up and began shuffling. Lizzie knew she was breathing faster than she should be and hoped her flushed cheeks and rapid heartbeat wouldn’t give her away.
A gentleman and two ladies walked into the room without knocking. They were all elegantly dressed, and a blonde lady in particular, seemed to know that she looked well.
“Rupert,” she cooed, sauntering over to the book case and wrapping her hand around his elbow.
****
Rupert’s stomach plummeted. Of all the rotten luck! Well, at least thanks to Elise’s presence, his erection, the one to beat all other hard cocks was now history. He should remember that trick if ever he needed to do it again.
“Elise,” he sighed, trying subtly to remove her hand from his elbow.
She finally removed it with a pout, but grazed her nails over him whilst she did. Rupert suppressed his shudder.
“Elise, we’ll meet you in the parlour?” The darker haired lady enquired, moving towards the door with a sly smile.
The blonde lady nodded and smiled her thanks, then turned stony eyes on Lizzi
e.
Despite her obvious unease, Lizzie started laying out the cards on the table in front of her to play a game of patience.
Rupert saw the look in Elise’s eye and knew he was in trouble. He had barely spent a week in her bed before moving on. She was vain and selfish and he had been turned off her soon after their first night together.
“Rupert, I have missed you. Would you escort me home tonight?” She purred softly. Not too softly that Lizzie wouldn’t hear, but enough for it to appear that she was attempting to be discreet.
Rupert didn’t dare look at Lizzie, but he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She hadn’t stopped in the dealing of her cards, but he knew she had heard Elise’s offer from the obvious stiffening of her spine.
For one single second, he considered taking Elise up on the offer. It was true that she was a rather nasty woman, but she would let him sate his desire in her body all night if he wanted. He would finally be rid of some of this tension. It had been weeks since he’ lain with any woman and Lizzie was driving him half out of his mind.
Lizzie, the woman who wanted marriage. A breed of woman that Rupert had sworn not to pursue. Why was he even bothering with her? Rupert knew that if he left with Elise, then he would never get the opportunity to be intimate with Lizzie. That’s all it would take to ruin his chances with her completely.
Looking down into Elise’s eager face he realized he wasn’t ready to give up on Lizzie yet. He may not want marriage. But he didn’t want this overly willing woman either, it would not sate the need he had inside him. It went so much deeper than the needs of his body. He didn’t know what they were yet, but he knew deep inside himself that Lizzie held the key to them.
“Thank you Elise, but I’m afraid I already have plans for this evening,” he lied smoothly.
Elise’s eyes flickered a warning and she glanced at Lizzie again.
“I can wait. Shall we meet later in the week then?” She asked again, her mouth setting in to an angry line.
At that moment Rupert knew he would never bed Elise ever again and that he may as well let her know it. Wasn’t she embarrassed to beg a man who so obviously didn’t want her?
“I’m afraid I’m no longer available Elise.” He answered, giving her a direct look that would have had most men running from the room.
“You cannot be serious, Rupert!” Elise replied plaintively, looking back over at where Lizzie sat, playing patience. She placed both hands on her hips and began turning red.
“Tell me that this little mouse is not the reason for denying me” she demanded, pointing at where Lizzie sat quietly.
Rupert clenched his jaw and inhaled sharply through his nose.
“Mrs. Symmons has nothing to do with you, Elise, Leave her out of this. I am not interested in you anymore. Find someone else to escort you home,” he added, before walking away and sitting in a chair opposite Lizzie.
“May I join you at cards, ma’am?” he asked calmly, reining in his temper and giving Lizzie a smile.
Lizzie merely nodded and handed him the pack of cards.
Rupert eyed Lizzie and knew he was in trouble again. Elise had been easy to deal with, although he knew she hadn’t given up on him. She was like a dog with a bone, that one.
Lizzie was a completely different type of lady. She was deep in thought, no longer lost in feeling and being carefree and happy as she had been before Elise had walked in. He was in deep, deep trouble.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” Rupert apologized, more apologetic than he could express. He had always relished his reputation, as it gave him free rein to do what he wanted and leave who he wanted, whenever he wanted. No-one ever expected anything from him, except a good time while it lasted. For the first time, he actually wished his reputation wasn’t quite so obvious. How was he going to get this beautiful and sincere woman to trust him when women were practically seducing him in front of her?
“I’m sure it happens often enough,” Lizzie shrugged, her sad face driving home how fragile she was.
Rupert smiled politely, not quite sure how to handle this situation. Frequently, he’d had jealous ladies competing for his attention and even several ex-mistresses in one room. It had been rather entertaining. This was very different. For the first time ever, he actually cared about what the lady in front of him was feeling.
“Shall we play poker? I assume you know how to play.” he asked. As an army widow, he understood she’d know how to play the card game.
Lizzie stilled in shock, “Of course I know how to play.”
Rupert grinned and dealt the cards, relief coursing through him in calming waves.
“Do you have a current mistress, Rupert?”
His head lifted up in shock, staring at the lady who has just asked one of the most courageous questions any woman had ever asked. He swallowed awkwardly, not knowing how to answer that question honestly and still retain Lizzie’s company.
She sighed, the sound tugging at his heart strings in a painful way. “And I suppose you gamble and drink often as well?” she continued with her questioning as though he had answered the first.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Should he just ignore the mistress question and answer the second one? He swallowed the lump in his throat once again and smiled gamely at her.
“Not as much as in my salad days,” he admitted. There was no gentleman who didn’t gamble and drink. It was the excesses that would be a problem.
“Thank you for being so honest,” Lizzie said, with a slight tremble in her tone. She, stood up, dropping her hand to the table.
Panic fluttered in his chest like a caged bird.
“Lizzie, please don’t leave,” Rupert urged, reaching out to grab her by the wrist. She couldn’t be leaving now, surely? Did she find his past so abhorrent?
“It has been lovely getting to know you,” Lizzie continued politely, pulling away from his grasp and doing something extremely odd. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, in a brief caress of tenderness.
Rupert leaned into her touch without thinking, his eyes closing on their volition as warmth spread through his heart. When her hand dropped away, he jumped to his feet in a panic for her to stay. This couldn’t be over, it just couldn’t.
“I haven’t visited my mistress since I met you. I swear it.” Rupert told her, uncaring that he was now begging.
Lizzie smiled sadly, shaking her head as she backed away towards the door.
“But for how long can you wait? I may never be ready and you’ll go and visit her and I’ll be devastated.”
A vice like clamping around his heart caused Rupert to press his hand to his chest. She cared, she really did. He had succeeded in affecting her as deeply as he himself was affected by her, but now he didn’t know what to do. He had hurt her.
“I don’t want any other woman, Lizzie. No-one but you ‘rouses me anymore.”
Lizzie smiled and walked to the door to leave.
Rupert stood transfixed, a victim of his own machinations.
“You didn’t answer the question.” He forced out of his frozen lips, before she passed through the door.
Lizzie turned and smiled, the glint in her eyes an indication that she knew exactly what he was asking, despite everything that had transpired between them since then.
“Five,” she answered.
Impossible.
“English, French, Gaelic, Italian and Latin.”
Rupert was extremely impressed. What woman spoke so many languages? Feeling that sinking feeling hit him again, he strove for a nonchalant smile.
“Latin?” he said, his eyebrows raised in question.
“My parents were scholars,” she whispered, before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her in a gut wrenching finality.
Rupert fell back into his chair with a loud sigh, looking up at the ornate ceiling as if asking for help.
Yes, he had a mistress, a woman whom he had visited often initially. However, those visits had re
cently dropped back to almost fortnightly. Rupert had been thinking of giving her up when Lizzie had dropped into his life and now he wished he had paid her off weeks ago.
He did gamble and drink occasionally, but that didn’t mean he was like Lizzie’s husband. He would never ignore Lizzie so that he could go out enjoying himself.
He was getting ahead of himself again. What was it about this woman that had him almost ready to jump down that church aisle? Maybe it was her unrelenting determination to accept nothing less than marriage. Either way, Lizzie was different. But could he marry her? He hadn’t planned on marrying for several years more and then he had planned on a traditional marriage of convenience, not the love-match his friends had found.
Love match?
Where had that come from? He desperately needed a drink.
Chapter 7
Rupert requested Lizzie’s address from his butler before he went to bed and went to sleep with a heavy heart. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if he found her, but he couldn’t sit idly by and allow her to walk out of his life forever.
The next morning, he was woken at a most unlikely hour, his head pounding from the lack of sleep.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” Rupert’s butler apologised, laying the letter next to his head.
Rupert groaned and stretched, disoriented. What time was it? It could barely be dawn.
“What is it?” He grumbled, rubbing his hands down his face and groaning again as his eyes blinked slowly awake.
“I have news about Mrs Symmons and thought you may want to know as soon as possible.”
Rupert shot up straight in bed and snatched for the letter on his pillow. Sleep forgotten, his body began to hum with happiness.
“Tell me now,” Rupert demanded, ripping open the letter in impatience.
“Mrs Symmons received a missive yesterday requesting her presence at a country estate in Kent.”
His heart sank at the news.
“She’s gone.” He let his shoulders drop and the letter fall to the sheets. How did his butler find out this sort of thing is such a short space of time?