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An Affair with a Notorious Heiress

Page 25

by Lorraine Heath


  They took his carriage back to the residence where Somerdale immediately took his leave.

  Gina smiled at Rexton. “Will you be joining us for tea now, my lord?”

  “No, but I will escort you to the door.”

  “I rather like Lord Somerdale,” Gina said as they walked up the path.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Rexton said, although the words were false. He wanted the girl happy but not when it meant shortening his time with Tillie.

  “Having an inheritance is certainly a double-edged sword,” Gina mused. “I wonder how the lady is to ever know if a man truly wants her instead of her money.”

  “A man would be a fool not to want you more than he wanted your money.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “You’re kind to say so but I would say the same is true of Tillie and look how things worked out for her.”

  “My past is a cautionary tale,” Tillie said, “and I shall use the experience to keenly observe Lord Somerdale and anyone else who comes to call. No reason for you to settle on the first gent to call.”

  “I like him well enough.”

  “Well enough is not necessarily good enough.”

  Just as she reached to open the door, he said, “Gina, I was hoping to take your sister on an outing on the morrow but she has declined my invitation. I’m hoping you might convince her otherwise.”

  Gina’s eyes were wide and glowing with pleasure. “You mean just the two of you?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Which is the reason I declined,” Tillie said sharply. “We need to spend our time ensuring you are out and about and seen.”

  “One day wouldn’t hurt,” Gina said. Reaching out, she touched his arm. “Never you fear, my lord. I shall ensure she is ready and enthusiastic when you arrive for her tomorrow.”

  Taking her hand, holding her gaze, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I was rather certain I could count on you. I shall be here at dawn.”

  “Dawn?” Tillie echoed.

  “It is to be a full day, Countess.”

  “It shall be a day you spend alone.” She retreated into the house.

  Gnawing on her lower lip, Gina said, “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Very much so,” he admitted, not only to her but to himself.

  “She may be a bit grumpy to start, but she will go with you. I promise.”

  With a wink, he leaned in. “See that she wears something simple, with few petticoats, as we’ll be doing a bit of traveling.”

  As he headed back to his carriage, he was rather certain Tillie would see his enlisting her sister’s assistance as cheating. But where she was concerned, he was willing to do whatever necessary to spend as much time with her as possible.

  It was too early for whisky, yet Tillie stood at the window, full glass in hand, watching as Rexton and Gina—her traitorous sister—talked. She was rather certain if she spent too much time alone with him that she would be setting herself up for heartache. She liked him far more than she should, more than was wise when she realized her heart might be on the mend. That made it so much more vulnerable.

  When she saw Rexton walking away and Gina heading for the door, Tillie moved away from the window and settled into a chair, striving to appear calm when she was anything but.

  “Why won’t you spend the day with him?” Gina asked without preamble as she marched into the parlor.

  Tillie took a slow sip of her whisky before saying, “It serves neither of us any good.”

  Gina dropped into the chair opposite her. “He wants to court you, Tillie.”

  Tillie’s heart somersaulted to the floor. “Did he tell you that? Did he use those exact words?”

  Shifting in her chair, Gina averted her gaze. “No, but why else would he want time alone with you?”

  For another frolic between the sheets. She wouldn’t have minded, but her fear was that he did want something more, something that could never reach fruition. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

  Gina brought her gaze back to Tillie. “Aren’t you curious?”

  What if it was something like the carousel, something designed to touch her heart? She was going to leave England when Gina was situated, and she had no desire to leave her heart behind. She feared with Rexton, she was very much in danger of doing that.

  Her face earnest, Gina scooted to the edge of the chair. “I think you should do it, Tillie, if for no other reason than simply to find out what he’s about.”

  She was afraid. She’d been swept off her feet before, and she’d landed hard on her backside. It would be so much worse with Rexton. So much worse.

  On the other hand, he’d already given her so many warm memories that had begun to shove aside the horrid ones of her past.

  “If you’re not curious,” Gina said, “I am. I will die if you don’t go with him and report back to me what sort of outing he planned that begins at such an ungodly hour. If you don’t go, I’m going—simply because I must know what sort of deviousness he arranged.”

  “I doubt it’s devious.”

  “Then what’s your excuse for not going?”

  She couldn’t admit her fears, her doubts—not to her baby sister. She was supposed to be older and wiser. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.”

  “Splendid.”

  Although she would have a few choice words for Rexton because he’d involved her sister. It seemed the man had no qualms about doing whatever necessary to gain what he wanted. While she knew she should be miffed, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of joy with the knowledge that it appeared one of the things he craved was time alone with her.

  He could not have been more thrilled to see Gina standing on the steps with a self-satisfied smirk on her face while Tillie stood beside her. He leaped out of the carriage before it came to a complete stop, not bothering to wait for a footman to open the door. The sky was lightening, but it was still dark enough that he wasn’t likely to be recognized.

  “It took some convincing,” Gina said gleefully, “but I did it.”

  “I owe you a dance at the next ball,” he said.

  She laughed. “You’ll give me that anyway.”

  He held out his hand to Tillie, closing his fingers around hers when she placed her palm against his.

  “We’re going to have a discussion about your underhanded means of using my sister,” she said haughtily.

  Any chastisement he endured would be worth it. He had her for the day.

  “I’ll have her back before nightfall,” he promised Gina.

  “Take your time. I’m off to get a new frock.” She fairly skipped into the residence.

  After settling Tillie into the coach, he sat beside her.

  “Seriously, Rex, I don’t want her knowing about the affair.”

  He understood her reservations. People didn’t usually boast about their clandestine meetings. “She’s not oblivious, Tillie. She’s known from the beginning I have an interest in you. She won’t think anything more of our daytime outing than my wanting some time with you.” Leaning in, he kissed her temple, lowered his voice. “Which I do. You must wish for the same or you’d have not agreed. I doubt anyone can convince you to do something you’re averse to.”

  “There are times when I find you insufferable.”

  He might have been wounded if he didn’t hear the smile in her voice. There was little he liked more than her lowering her defenses enough to tease him.

  Placing his arm around her, he nestled her up against his side, turning slightly so her head could be cradled within the hollow of his shoulder. “We’ll be on the road for at least two hours. Try to get some sleep.”

  She snuggled up against him, far too easily and comfortably to be too put out by his underhanded means to get her to join him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I’d rather not say, but I do think you’ll find it a delightful way to spend the day.”

  “How many women have you shared such delights with?�


  He suspected her relationship with Downie caused her to think that nothing special would be shared with her, that she would be the recipient of what he gave to everyone else—in spite of the fact that he’d shared far more with her than he’d ever shared with anyone else. “As with the carousel and my residence, you will share with me today what no other woman has.”

  Holding her near as he was, he was aware of her going very still, very quiet. He wondered if she had an inkling regarding how much he treasured her, how much he wanted experiences with her that he’d had with no other. He doubted it, as he, too, was finding it difficult to comprehend how much she was coming to mean to him in so short a span of time. When he’d first met her, he noticed the outer trimmings, been drawn to them, but he’d also been aware of an inner steel, a fortitude that appealed even more. She was strength and courage and determination.

  She was willing to do whatever necessary to gain what she wanted—no, what she needed. She’d needed a divorce in order to survive, to avoid a pit of despair. She’d taken actions most would consider drastic in order to obtain it.

  Now she wanted her sister wed and, again, she’d taken unusual measures, had become his temporary mistress.

  Temporary, however, no longer suited him. It was his turn to take drastic measures to ensure temporary no longer suited her either.

  Chapter 18

  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she’d slept fitfully the night before, so she’d welcomed his arm closing around her and the comfort of his shoulder. She didn’t much like how much she looked forward to being in his company. Their arrangement was for night hours only. Extending their time alone to daylight hours was dangerous, might cause her to wish for more than what they could have together. She would indulge him—and her interfering sister—today, and then she would make it clear that they would return to the original terms.

  She didn’t want him romancing her. The lie sat heavy on her heart. If she were a debutante, in her first Season, she would want all he offered. But she wasn’t. She was used goods. A man in his position had to consider his place in Society, his legacy, and the respect given to him by his peers. She might be a foreigner, but she had learned in short order that marrying into the aristocracy came with exacting expectations. Exhausting ones because its members were always on display, their actions scrutinized and gossiped over.

  Gina wanted it. Tillie did not.

  Rex closed his hand over her shoulder and gently gave her a nudge. “Sweetheart, it’s time to awaken. We’re almost there.”

  She loved the endearment, the gentleness of it, the warmth it carried. Slowly, she opened her eyes, forced herself to move away from him, and stretched as best she could within the confines of the conveyance. “Where are we?”

  “Kingsbrook Park.”

  “You brought me to a park?” she asked, leaning toward the window and gazing out. She saw rolling fields, occasional trees, green.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “It’s my personal estate.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “Personal?”

  “Not entailed. I have my own income from investments and such. I bought this place a couple of years ago.”

  Turning her attention back to the window, she spied the manor, simple in its design. Rectangular, brick, three stories. Then the enormous stables and numerous paddocks came into view. The excitement thrummed through her, and she couldn’t keep it from echoing in her voice. Not that she would have tried. She wanted him to know how much this moment meant to her. “It’s where you keep your horses.”

  As Rexton helped Tillie out of the coach, he felt like a young lad sharing a new discovery. Her smile was incredibly bright, larger than he’d ever seen it, and her eyes glowed with enthusiasm. She was fairly bouncing with anticipation as he led her toward the largest paddock where a dark bay munched on flowers. He’d known the outing would please her. He should have made a wager on it. He could think of a thousand things he wanted with her, things she might be reluctant to give.

  He nodded toward the trainer and a couple of the stable boys who were at work nearby. When he and Tillie reached the enclosure, Rexton whistled and the horse trotted over, making quick work of snatching up the carrot he’d removed from his pocket and extended toward her. He patted the mare fondly. “Lady Landsdowne, meet Fair Vixen.”

  “Hello, beautiful,” she said with affection, rubbing her hand beneath the forelock. “I’ve seen her race. Up close, she’s gorgeous.”

  “Would you like to ride her?”

  Tillie’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped. He knew it was a sight he’d never forget.

  “Are you serious?” she asked in a near whisper. “Or am I asleep, still dreaming?”

  “Why do you think I asked that you dress in something simple?”

  “You should have told me to wear my riding habit.”

  “I feared that might give away the surprise.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. “I do so like it when you’re surprised.”

  Tears quickly welled in her eyes, were blinked back. “You’re dangerous.”

  He didn’t take offense because he suspected she’d just delivered a compliment. At least, he was hoping so. “Not so much so that you won’t accept the offer to go for a jaunt on my finest mare.”

  Laughing, she shook her head. “No, not that dangerous.”

  He called to the head groomer to ready Fair Vixen and Naughty Boy, his favorite stallion. Tillie had burst out with laughter when she heard the name. He’d not yet raced the beast so it wasn’t known. Because Grace sometimes visited, they had a sidesaddle, although Rexton wouldn’t have minded if Tillie had sat astride. He didn’t think she could do anything with which he’d be offended.

  Before long, they were galloping over the hills. He let her take the lead, enjoyed watching her graceful movements. Her affection for horses matched his own. He had a wild thought that he could spend an eternity racing with her, enjoying the movement of the horse beneath him.

  When Tillie brought her horse to a halt at the top of a rise, she was breathless and glowing, and he wanted to do all in his power to keep her looking that joyous, that happy.

  “She runs like a dream,” Tillie said, patting the horse as he neared. “You will certainly get a winner off her with Black Diamond.”

  “That’s my hope.”

  He dismounted, walked over to her, and brought her to the ground. By now, he should be immune to the pleasure it brought him to touch her, to curve his palms against her sides, to have her hands curling over his shoulders. As Tillie walked away, he tethered the horses to some low-lying shrubbery. He joined her, put his arms around her, and brought her back against his chest. She folded her arms over his.

  “It’s lovely here.”

  He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “We’ll let the horses rest for a while, then we’ll head back to the manor for luncheon.”

  “Do you come here often?”

  “Once a month or so. I like spending time with the horses.”

  “I’m considering having a horse farm when I return to New York. Perhaps I’ll ask you for some advice.”

  He didn’t want to think about her leaving. Moving away from her, he removed his jacket, spread it over the ground, and assisted her in sitting on it. He dropped down beside her.

  “This is the perfect spot for a picnic,” she said.

  “Perhaps we’ll do that next time.” He didn’t know why he needed the words, why he needed to believe there would be a next time, why he was grateful she didn’t indicate that this would be the only time she’d grace his small estate with her presence. Cupping her face, he turned her toward him. “For now, there’s something else far more delicious than anything my cook can prepare that I’d like to nibble on.”

  Tillie welcomed his mouth blanketing hers, his tongue sweeping possessively across hers. It frightened her a little—how easily she could see herself spending her days here with him, walking the grounds, riding, laughing. But that h
onor would go to some other woman, someone with a sterling reputation. She wondered if he would allow his wife to ride Fair Vixen or if his memories of her on the mare would be such that he wouldn’t want them replaced.

  She selfishly wished for the latter. When their time came to an end, she wanted some aspects of what they’d shared to be unique to her so he could never forget her. She wanted him to watch Fair Vixen race and to remember this day.

  Smoothly, his mouth never leaving hers, he lowered her to the cool ground. Grass tickled her cheek. The fragrance of the wildflowers grew stronger, but not strong enough to drown out his purely masculine scent. It had somehow woven itself into the fabric of her being. No matter what colognes other men in her life wore, they would never smell as good as he did.

  He skimmed his hand down her side, over her hip, and clamped it around her thigh, positioning her leg so her knee was raised and bent. His hand slid further down to circle her ankle, over the leather of her shoe, and he gave a gentle squeeze, before gliding those lovely fingers up her calf. Over her knee, down her thigh, lifting her skirt back as he went. The cool breeze wafted over her skin, causing little chill bumps to erupt everywhere, even where the air didn’t touch her directly.

  Breaking off the kiss, he raised his head, captured her gaze, held it in a manner so sensual that he made it impossible for her to look away as his hand advanced through the slit in her drawers to conquer her heated flesh with a caress that was at once gentle, but demanding. He wanted her surrendering to pleasure, here on the grassy knoll where nature looked on. She didn’t know if she could do it, but when his eyes darkened with determination, his lips parted slightly, and two of his fingers entered her while his thumb stroked, pressed, teased, passion roared through her, tearing away any sense of propriety, of civilization.

 

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