Miranda sighed, partly in relief and partly in annoyance. It seemed her secret was safe, but only in exchange for the same speech she’d heard a hundred times before.
“The fresh air is good for me,” she argued as she made her way around her mother and sister and headed up the steps to the veranda.
“It makes you freckly,” her mother insisted. “And what if someone had seen you looking like this?”
“Who could have seen me, Mother?” Miranda sighed as she stepped inside the parlor.
“What about Lord Rothschild?” Beatrice offered.
Miranda skidded to a halt and spun on her sister. “Lord Rothschild?” she repeated past a suddenly dry throat. Her head was beginning to pound.
“Oh, is he back?” their mother asked with a groan.
Beatrice nodded. “I heard from Susanna Carlton that he is back in the county for his annual visit. Sometimes he roams about the woods.”
“Likely looking for unsuspecting young girls to seduce,” their mother said with a tsking of her tongue. “You see, Miranda, if you had stumbled into his path, you might not think the outdoor air was so very good for you after all.”
Miranda folded her arms, overcome by a sudden desire to defend Ethan against her family. “You dislike him, yet you always accept his invitations.”
Her mother blinked like she didn’t understand the point. “Of course. He may be a scoundrel, but he’s a well-connected one. And until he has the decency to quit the country, why shouldn’t we take advantage?”
“Oh, Mother!” Miranda cried as she began to rub her temples.
Her mother caught her hands and drew them together, squeezing almost to the point of pain. Miranda looked at her in surprise and caught just the faintest hint of fear in her mother’s wild stare. She’d never seen that before, not in all the times they discussed their financial problems. Miranda had always assumed Dorthea really didn’t understand the straights they were in.
Perhaps she did, after all.
“Miranda, you may judge me and my methods, but I do not want to wait for fate. We must take control of our own destinies.” Her mother released her hands and the emotions were wiped clean from her round face. “Now, please go upstairs and tidy up.”
Miranda nodded slowly and did as she’d been told.
As she moved up the stairs to her chamber, she thought of what her mother had said.
“We must take control of our own destinies,” she murmured.
That was what she’d been trying to do today by asking Ethan for help. And by accepting the terms of his agreement. But she hadn’t been in control at any point of their encounter. Ethan had seduced and pleasured and dominated her from the moment he entered the room to the moment he told her to go.
She had allowed him to do so, giving in to what he wanted with little argument except for her one stipulation of limiting their encounters to once a week.
If this were a courtship, she wouldn’t worry about the issue of control all that much. It was expected that a gentleman would rule in a scenario where he would end up married to a woman.
But this arrangement wouldn’t end in marriage. It wouldn’t end with a trusting, or even loving, bond, despite the surrender of her body to his whims. If she allowed Ethan to control her at every turn, she could end up hurt.
“He could steal my heart,” she whispered as she entered her chamber and rang the bell for her maid.
That was true. She felt it. She could almost taste it. After years of fascination with the man, surrendering to him had left her feeling…good. Happy for the first time in months. It wouldn’t take too much more surrender to have those feelings turn to love. And loving Ethan was the most foolish thing she could possibly do.
“Miss?” her maid said as she pushed the chamber door open.
With a start, Miranda turned on the girl. “Maddy, I fell on my walk today and I’m a bit dirty. I’d like a warm bath.”
The maid tilted her head in surprise. Normally the family didn’t bathe in the middle of the afternoon. But finally, she shrugged. “Of course, miss. I’ll make the arrangements immediately.”
“Thank you.”
As the girl left, Miranda moved behind the screen in the corner of the room and began to strip out of her gown. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice little marks on her skin, tiny bruises that had been left by Ethan’s hands and mouth. She stifled a curse. Already she was branded as his and they had only just begun together.
“I cannot let him take everything I am,” she said as she wrapped herself in a worn dressing gown.
But how to keep that from happening? How could she manage to keep a grip on her “destiny,” as her mother had put it?
Miranda sat down at her dressing table and began to brush her tangled hair. Her thoughts drifted to her encounter with Ethan. Every moment played through her mind in sensual, slow motion and her body reacted accordingly.
It had felt so good to be touched. To touch him.
Touch him.
Miranda straightened up. The only time she’d felt any kind of control was when she touched Ethan. When she stroked his cock, he’d been at her mercy, not the other way around. By giving him pleasure, she’d kept some of her power in the process.
That was it. She couldn’t just allow herself to be seduced. She had to seduce him. She’d been watching him for years, hadn’t she? She knew what he liked, what made him moan, in a way he didn’t know about her.
If she could use what she’d seen, what she’d watched those other women do over the years, she could keep Ethan at bay. Keep her heart firmly in her own hands.
All it would take was seduction.
And just because she had never tried to seduce anyone before didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. Women did so every day, didn’t they? Ones with far less intelligence than she possessed. And she had her years of spying on her side.
The door opened behind her and two maids came in carrying the tub, with two more following with hot water. As they prepared her bath, Miranda stared at herself in the mirror with renewed purpose.
She could do this. She had to. At this point, her only hope was seduction.
Five
A stroll through the woods was normally Miranda’s favorite pastime in the summer months. Even before she’d become obsessed with spying on Ethan’s sexual exploits, she had loved the quiet of nature, the feel of a soft breeze on her face. Time spent alone had helped her handle her overbearing mother’s demands and the slow realization that her father wasn’t the heroic figure she had believed him to be as a sheltered child.
Today, however, her walk was no stroll, but more akin to a death march. She hardly noticed her surroundings, let alone took peace in them, as she made her way over the rolling hills toward Ethan’s home. Instead of quiet, an insistent refrain played over in her head. A skipping question about Ethan. What would he do to her? What would he say?
Today was the first full twenty-four hours of their agreement. With the barrier of her virginity gone, he would begin his promised debauchery in earnest.
As she stepped through the final veil of trees, Miranda shivered, though the air was warm. Across the lawn Ethan’s palatial home rose up like a beacon. Or point of no return. Which, she wasn’t quite certain yet.
But that was her destination and there was no going back. Not anymore.
As Miranda straightened her shoulders and tried to smooth the lines of nervousness away from her face, she forced herself to move. She wouldn’t give Ethan the satisfaction of seeing her worries. No, she would remain in control. She would use everything she’d secretly seen against him.
At least she would try. It was her only weapon in this sensual war.
She climbed up the marble stairs leading to Ethan’s front door and extended a shaking hand to knock. But before she could rap her knuckles across the shining surface, the door opened and revealed Ethan’s stern-faced butler. As always, he appeared disapproving and Miranda felt the blood begin to move to her cheeks. Clea
rly, Ethan’s servants were privy to her secret, or at least some of them were.
“Good morning, Winston,” she managed to croak out with as much dignity as she could muster given the circumstances.
“Good morning, Miss Albright,” he said with a small nod of the head. “He is expecting you. Please follow me.”
Miranda shoved her shaking hands behind her back and trailed after Winston as he led her down a long hallway to the backstairs. She looked around as they ascended to the second floor.
For as long as she had known of his secret trysts, the appearance of Ethan’s home had shocked her. Not because it was so very decadent, but because it was the complete opposite. The décor was elegant and masculine, done in dark colors with tasteful art.
It made all his vices that much more fascinating. Like he was two people. One the outwardly sinful lord with a reputation of seduction, the other a respectable gentleman who lurked under the surface and appreciated the finer things life had to offer.
Winston paused at a locked doorway halfway down the hall. He produced a key from his waistcoat and opened it, but didn’t step inside. Instead, he motioned for Miranda to enter the room in front of him.
“You will find a door along the west wall,” he explained with a frown. “Go through there and Lord Rothschild will join you in a few moments.”
Miranda stared into the dim room before she shook off her thoughts and nodded to Winston. “Thank you.”
“Good day, miss,” he said as she entered and he pulled the door shut.
Miranda hesitated, waiting for the sound of the lock being slid back into place, imprisoning her like in some gothic novel where the wicked gentleman seduced the virginal heroine. But that never happened. Instead, Winston’s muffled footsteps moved away from the chamber door. But, then, Ethan didn’t have to lock her in, did he? She had entered into this bargain of her own free will. She could leave at any time.
As long she forfeited her prize of the Seasons for her sisters.
No, she couldn’t afford to do that. Not after giving up her innocence. As he had pointed out two days ago, there was no turning back now.
And when she was honest, she didn’t want to turn back. Since their first encounter, she’d been thinking about the feel of Ethan’s skin against her own, the taste of his lips, the way she was stretched and filled when he took her. More than once, she had awakened wet and swollen, aching to be with him. And her own attempts at relief, which had always been satisfying enough for her in the past, had fallen short when compared to the memory of Ethan’s touch.
She took a brief glance around the room. Plain. Almost like a foyer to another chamber, rather than a room in itself. The only furniture present was a wingback chair next to the door Winston had instructed her to enter. It seemed like such a normal thing, but behind it awaited sin and pleasure and who knew what else.
Miranda held her breath. The final moment had come. The last instant between her life before this bargain and her life after.
She opened the door.
Inside, dark velvet curtains were drawn, so the light was dim. Only the fire and a few scattered lamps illuminated her way. As her eyes adjusted, though, she gasped.
If she had ever pictured what Ethan’s home should look like, this room exceeded even her most wicked imaginings. A huge bed was the centerpiece, with a high canopy and gauzy draping that swooped down over the mattress. Through the filmy fabric, she could see the coverlet was done in sensual, dark velvet that would caress over bare skin.
Her gaze skittered around and she realized that the bed was only the beginning. A table with various bindings rested directly across the room. Ones for the wrists, some at ankle level. She shivered at the shocking thought of being bound. It was something she’d never considered before. Would Ethan do that to her?
She darted her gaze away before she had to consider her increased arousal too closely. A huge mirror was along the opposite wall, its frame gilded with golden images of mythical beasts in various stages and varieties of copulation.
As she turned in shock to take in even more of the chamber, her eyes adjusted and she caught a glimpse of movement in a darkened corner of the room. She skirted back in surprise when a shadowy figure rose from a hidden chair and stepped into the light.
Ethan.
Miranda caught her breath. His shirt was open a few buttons and the firelight flickered against the tanned skin revealed there. He hadn’t shaved that morning, so a dark slash of stubble made his jaw line all the more defined. He was barefoot, just as he had been the last time she saw him, right after they made love.
And just like the last time, his gaze was filled with desire, but lacking in any other emotion.
“Good morning,” he drawled.
She straightened her shoulders with the silent reminder that she had to be as distant as he was. “My lord.”
He gave her an indulgent smirk. “As much as I like to be referred to as your lord, I think we’ve gone far beyond those empty platitudes. You have called me Ethan several times.” He hesitated and tapped his chin. “Actually you moaned it once. I prefer you call me that while we are alone together.”
Miranda blushed at his plain reference to their first afternoon tryst, but managed to bob out a quick nod. “Very well.”
“So, I am curious. What excuse did you give your…” He hesitated and Miranda thought he gave a little shiver. “Mother for your absence for twenty-four hours?”
She shifted uncomfortably. Although she had her own issues with Dorthea, as a general rule Miranda didn’t like to lie. And coming up with an excuse to appease her prying mother had been difficult.
“She thinks Lady Ingleworth in Tipton has taken a liking to me and asked me to come each Friday to read and play the pianoforte for her, then spend the night. Since she is a Dowager Duchess, my mother wants to encourage the supposed friendship,” she explained carefully.
Ethan leaned back with a low whistle. “Ingenious, my dear. Lady Ingleworth is practically a shut in. There will be no awkwardness of meeting with her in London and being caught in the lie later.”
Miranda sighed. Ethan was clearly amused by the situation, but she was not. The idea of having her lie revealed and her mother pick and pick at her until the truth was uncovered kept her up at night.
“Yes, that is what I thought as well.”
“Hmmm.” He seemed bored of the subject already. “What do you think of my room?” He motioned around them without looking away from her.
She folded her arms. “It suits you far better than the rest of the house.”
He chuckled. “How impertinent, but probably true. The rest of the house is for public consumption. One must make allowances for their prim expectations. But this is my room.”
“Your chamber?” Miranda asked past a suddenly very dry throat. So this was where he slept. Dressed. Dreamed. Those mundane activities were ones she had wondered about, even though she knew the intimate details of his affairs.
He smiled again as he moved to a table that held a bottle of red wine and poured her a glass. “No, no. Even I can only live in such decadence for short periods of time. This is the room where I entertain, for lack of a better word.”
Miranda took the glass he offered and sipped the wine. It was a fine vintage, not cheap and watered down like the kind served in her household. Her mother complained endlessly about it, but she’d somehow convinced herself that it wasn’t really worse.
She had been wrong. The delicate liquid slipped down her throat with a heavenly bite.
“You don’t entertain here that often,” she said as she took a second sip. “I’ve never seen this room before and you’ve invited our family to several events over the years.”
Ethan arched a brow. “If I had known what a delightful student you would turn out to be, Miranda, I would have invited you to this room long ago.”
“You lie,” Miranda said with a laugh. “You never even looked at me before I showed up here unescorted.”
He stepped back, apparently surprised by her outburst. Miranda looked at her half-empty wineglass. She’d rather forgotten how little alcohol her body could take before she started saying things she didn’t mean to say out loud. She set the glass aside before she blurted out anything else and made an effort to look comfortable despite her sudden embarrassment.
He tilted his head closer. “I don’t make a habit out of ruining women who will want more than a few months in my bed, at best. I assumed you would want a lifetime commitment, so I stayed away. But I noticed you, my dear.”
His smile was positively animal and he moved toward her like he was a cat and she a helpless mouse. Suddenly she felt like one.
“What did you notice?” she asked softly.
“Your eyes, your lithe frame, those pretty breasts of yours.” His voice dropped lower to a seductive level that raked over her senses. “But mostly I noticed how you looked at me. Like you knew my secrets.”
Miranda started. She hadn’t realized her appraisals of him had been so transparent. Thank goodness he didn’t know exactly what secrets she did know.
“I imagine you must have many secrets, Ethan,” she countered, stepping out of his reach to pace across the room.
He laughed. “And I am beginning to think you have a few as well. I’m going to enjoy ferreting them out and exploiting them.”
Miranda turned on him with a gasp and found him watching her intently. “You are a cad.”
“Of course,” he agreed with a good-natured grin. Then he motioned toward the wall behind her. “What do you think of my art work?”
She wrinkled her brow at the sudden change of subject before she turned to look at the picture he’d indicated. She sucked in a breath. From a distance, she had hardly noticed the sketches on the walls, but they, like the mirror frame she’d seen earlier, depicted a variety of sinful couplings.
The one before her portrayed a couple waltzing, which wouldn’t have been so outrageous, except that both the dancers were totally naked. The man’s cock was engorged, prodding the wet lips of his partner’s sex. The orchestra and other dancers looked on as the two spun around the dance floor, lewd expressions on their faces as they groped their own partners.
Everything Forbidden Page 6