Desire Becomes Her

by Shirlee Busbee

  Whatever his private feelings, Stanley rose to the occasion. Rising to his feet and lifting his wineglass, he said, “A toast. A toast to my sister and cousin and congratulations on their move to High Tower.”

  The toast drunk, Stanley reseated himself and, looking across the table where Gillian was seated, asked politely, “How soon will you make the move?”

  “It’s already made,” said Silas with satisfaction. “Several of my servants left yesterday for Surrey to pack up their things.” He grinned at Gillian. “Even the cow, Matilda, and the pig, Angel, will be finding a new home at High Tower.”

  The announcement made, the ladies escaped to the salon. Too nervous to relax, Gillian paced the floor, and watching as Sophia prosaically poured herself a cup of tea, she demanded, “Aren’t you the least worried about Canfield?” Her face clouded. “And Stanley?” She sank down on the sofa next to Sophia. “Oh, Sophy!” she cried, “Stanley was actually nice to me tonight as we went into dinner. He appeared to want for us to become, if not friends, at least friendly. After Uncle’s announcement, he’s going to be most upset and I can’t blame him.” She wrung her hands. “I feel terrible. He seemed sincere—he even called me Gilly, and he’s not done that in ages. We agreed to a truce and I was hopeful... .” She made a face. “Now I wouldn’t blame him if he thinks me the most deceitful creature in nature.”

  “He was nice to me, too,” Sophia replied. “Polite to Mr. Joslyn, also.” Stirring some sugar into her tea, she said, “Based on his manner this evening, it would seem as if he’s trying to change his ways.” She took a sip of her tea, and putting down the bone-china cup, she added, “I’m sure you’re right about his reaction to Uncle’s announcement, though—he can’t but believe that we’ve been conniving behind his back—worming our way into Uncle’s good graces.” She sighed. “What a shame, if it’s genuine, that his change of heart had to happen just now.”

  Gillian frowned. “You don’t believe he really wants to mend our relationship?”

  “I don’t know, my dear. It is entirely possible he is sincere. Stanley wasn’t a bad child—spoiled and petted and jealous of you, yes, he was all of that, but don’t forget there was a kindness about him—when he wasn’t being a wretched little monster.” Sophia looked thoughtful, “On the other hand ... he is here with Lord George Canfield and we know what Canfield is! Most likely Stanley is here to beg Uncle to cover his gambling debts, so it is possible that his hand of friendship is a ruse.”

  “You don’t think he knows what Canfield is about?” Gillian asked, horrified. “And that his apparent about-face is all part of a plot?”

  Sophia shook her head. “No. Your half brother may be overbearing and love the gaming tables far too much for his own good, but I cannot believe that he would be part of Canfield’s scheme.” Sophia picked up her cup of tea. “In fact, I think if he knew what Canfield planned, he’d turf him out of the house and challenge him to a duel.”

  She looked at Gillian. “While he doesn’t always treat you with the consideration and affection he should, I’m positive he would be offended by anybody else behaving badly toward you. In fact, though they were friends,” she said slowly, “I’m certain if he’d known of Charles’s bargain with Winthrop he’d have prevented you from going to Welbourne’s hunting lodge for the dreadful party and that he’d have called Charles out.”

  Gillian thought about it and decided that Sophia was correct. Stanley did have scruples of a sort, and like Sophia, she believed that he would have stepped in if he’d had any inkling what was in the offing the night of Welbourne’s party.

  “Do you think we should tell him what Canfield is about?” Gillian asked.

  Over the rim of her teacup Sophia regarded her. “Only if you want him to challenge Canfield. Unlike Uncle, Stanley does not have a broken arm.”

  “Of course, you’re right,” Gillian admitted, sitting down on the sofa next to Sophia. “I just hadn’t gotten that far in my thoughts.” She smiled crookedly. “I’m still trying to deal with Stanley being nice.”

  Sophia chuckled. “I suspect now that the cat is out of the bag about our living with Uncle, we won’t have to worry about that any longer.”

  The double doors opened and the gentlemen came into the room. Silas made for his usual chair and the other three men scattered themselves around the room. Luc took up his former position by the fireplace; Stanley sat in the matching chair next to his uncle, and Canfield lounged on the arm of the sofa next to where Gillian was sitting, his upper body near crowding hers.

  His eyes narrowed, Luc observed Canfield’s territorial position just beyond Gillian’s left shoulder, not liking the surge of possessiveness that powered through him. He’d known many women, but jealousy was an emotion he’d never experienced. He wasn’t convinced that what he was feeling was jealousy, but he knew he didn’t like it—or Canfield’s proximity to Gillian.

  Luc had certain rules when it came to women, and he had yet to meet a woman who could cause him to deviate from his own principles. No virgins. No married women, and no flirtatious coquettes who delighted in pitting one man against another. And he never poached on another man’s preserves. His attitude was simple: the world was full of beautiful, amiable women and with a shrug, he’d move on.

  Gillian presented a problem for him: he didn’t think he was ready to move on just yet... . He wanted the sprite. Badly. His gaze fell upon Canfield and the sudden overpowering desire to pick up Lord George Canfield by the scruff of his neck and goosestep him out of the front doors of High Tower surprised Luc. He scowled. His reaction was understandable—he didn’t like the man, but he was not, he reminded himself, jealous!

  Gillian was acutely conscious of Canfield’s presence crowding her and she held her body as far away from him as she could. Using the excuse of pouring more tea, she slid nearer Sophy and away from Canfield.

  Luc noted the action. The sprite, it appeared, had no interest in encouraging Canfield, and unless he missed his guess, she wanted nothing to do with the man. Deciding it was his duty to rescue her, Luc strolled over to where Gillian sat.

  Smiling down at the two women, Luc said, “It is a pleasant evening. Would you two lovely ladies care for a stroll in the gardens?”

  No more than Luc had Sophia liked Canfield’s choice of a seat and she responded immediately. “What an excellent idea!” Glancing across at Stanley and Silas, she said, “What do you gentlemen think? A leisurely after-dinner walk sounds like just the thing.”

  Like Sophia and Luc, Silas hadn’t been happy about Canfield’s proximity to Gillian and spiking any plans Canfield might have had to cut her out from the others, he said, “Not for me I’m afraid, but Stanley, you go ahead.” He smiled wolfishly at Canfield. “Canfield can stay and keep me company.”

  Canfield had no choice but to remain behind with his host, and he watched in impotent fury as Luc, with Gillian’s hand on his arm, and Sophia and Stanley disappeared between the French doors that opened onto the side garden.

  It was a pleasant night and though the garden was no longer at its height, there were a few roses still in bloom and most of the shrubbery had not yet lost all its leaves. The foursome spread out, but they did not stray from the stone paths and the faint light spilling from the house.

  Gillian was very aware of Luc’s lean, masculine body moving fluidly beside hers as they wandered down one of the many paths. Beneath her fingers she was conscious of the muscles in his arm and she wondered what it would feel like to have those strong arms enfold her in an embrace. A pleasurable little shudder went through her at the idea. She risked a glance up at the chiseled mouth, and at the thought of having those lips pressed against hers, heat bloomed low in her belly.

  It had been a long time since she had felt desire, but she recognized the emotion lazily coiling through her. Desire. Why, I want him, she admitted incredulously. Her pulse jumped at the admittance, but she didn’t deny it. She wanted Luc Joslyn.

  A virgin when she had married Char
les, her husband had been the only man she had known, and during the first years of their marriage, Charles had been an attentive, exciting lover. He had delighted in her small, generously formed body and had taught her the physical pleasures that could be shared between a man and a woman. In love with him, Gillian had reveled in her husband’s lovemaking, but as the years had passed and the estrangement between them grew, Charles’s visits to her room became less frequent. Toward the end, she banished him entirely from her bed, and though there were nights she tossed feverishly and burned for his lovemaking, she never regretted her decision.

  Aware of Luc in ways she had nearly forgotten, her skin felt hot, tight and to her horror, the image of them entwined naked slid through her mind and her nipples suddenly hardened beneath the soft material of her gown. The idea of being naked in his arms and knowing the demand of that beautiful mouth would not go away and her breathing escalated. Feverish with desire, Gillian kept her gaze fixed on the path, afraid if she looked at him he would glimpse what she was feeling. If he touched me ...

  “The top of your head is very pretty,” Luc said, breaking into her thoughts, “but I would much prefer to see your lovely face.”

  At his words, she became aware of their surroundings. They were in a small, darkened nook, Stanley and Sophia were nowhere in sight and she made the mistake of looking up at him.

  His face was deep in shadow, but even with her eyes closed she would have been able to see his dangerously appealing features, the aristocratic nose, the high cheekbones and that sculpted mouth. Her gaze fastened on his lips and she could not look away.

  Luc muttered something and then she was in his arms, his mouth feasting on hers. His arms locked her next to his body, the thrust of his rigid member unmistakably pressing into her soft flesh.

  Gillian moaned at the sensation of that hard, knowing mouth taking hers, and when he parted her lips and his tongue plunged inside to explore and take, she welcomed him. Gripped by desire, her arms closed around his neck and her small body pressing ardently against his, she wallowed in the sensations shooting through her.

  Even when his hand fastened on her breast and those long, elegant fingers began to knead and caress, Gillian made no move to escape. She could not. She was burning up with desire, mindless with need, and if Luc had thrown her down on the ground and taken her then and there, she would not have denied him.

  It was the sound of Stanley and Sophia’s approach that brought them both to reality with all the finesse of being doused with a bucket of icy water. Tearing her mouth from his, her arms dropped from his neck and Gillian sprang away from him as if stung. Luc swore violently under his breath— with what breath he had and hoped to hell the darkness would hide his aggressively rampant state. Another minute and he’d have had that enticing little body crushed against a tree, her skirts up and his aching staff buried deep within her.

  Grabbing her hand, Luc jerked her from the darkened nook and onto the path where the shadows were not so dark. A lightning glance told him he had not damaged her gown or hair. Satisfied there was no outward sign of that frantic embrace, he placed her hand on his arm and said, “This doesn’t end here.” A carnal smile curved his lower lip. “The next time I have you in my arms, chere, and it will be soon, we will finish what we started. Now come, we must meet your cousin and brother with innocent faces.”

  Gillian stiffened at the confidence in his words. What had just happened between them, she tried to convince herself, even as her body throbbed for his touch, had to have been an aberration. No man, not even Charles, had made her feel so wanton, so full of mindless need that she wouldn’t, couldn’t have stopped him from taking her there in that little nook. She was a respectable widow, for heaven’s sake! Not some female of easy virtue who coupled with any attractive man she met.

  Her fingers once again on his arm, as they walked toward the sound of Stanley and Sophia’s voices, Gillian fought for composure. Knowing they would come upon Stanley and Sophia at any second, she forced herself to banish those breathless moments in the nook ... and vowed to stay as far away from Luc Joslyn as possible. Her jaw set. She had no intention of allowing this, this madness to continue.

  They rounded a curve and found Stanley and Sophia walking in their direction.

  Taking the offense, Luc said gaily, “Ah, there you are! Where did you disappear to? We have been looking everywhere for you.”

  Sophia chuckled. “We didn’t disappear, but we thought that you had.” Sophia’s gaze ran over the pair of them. There was nothing outward that she could put her finger on, but there was something... . Hmmm.

  “As I recall,” Stanley said, taking Luc’s words at face value, “the gardens are laid out in a bit of maze. It’s not surprising that we lost sight of each other traipsing through them in near darkness.”

  “Unless you care to walk further,” Luc murmured, “I suggest we return to the house.”

  “Yes,” agreed Sophia. “I think we’ve left Uncle with Canfield long enough.”

  Shortly after returning to the salon, Luc took his leave and moments after he’d departed, Gillian and Sophia bid the gentlemen good night and headed toward their rooms. Entering the sitting room they shared, hoping to postpone any questions, Gillian asked, “Did Stanley say anything to you about Uncle’s announcement?”

  “He astonished me,” confessed Sophia. “I was certain he’d start complaining the instant we were alone, but all he did was mutter that he was surprised by our decision to live at High Tower permanently and considering Uncle’s age, perhaps it was a good idea.”

  “He didn’t accuse me, us of being underhanded?”

  Sophia shook her head. “I was prepared for that, but he was perfectly polite. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he was sickening with something.”

  Seating herself on the sofa, Gillian said, “I wonder if we have wronged him. Not that he hasn’t run to Uncle in the past every time he’s been badly dipped, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t fond of him.”

  Sophia joined her on the couch and sliding off her black satin slippers, she said, “I’m sure he is fond of Uncle ... and of course, his money, but it’s possible he’s finally grown up. We’ll see.” Her laughing eyes met Gillian’s. “Now are you going to tell me what you and Mr. Joslyn were really doing in the dark by yourselves?”

  With only a sliver of moonlight to guide him, Luc rode home. His mind was only half on the road, his thoughts on the past evening ... and the interlude with Gillian Dashwood in the nook. Just the memory of her intoxicating mouth beneath his aroused him and he moved uncomfortably in the saddle. Mon Dieu! The sprite had powers he had never suspected. With one passionate kiss she had brought him to his knees, and he was uneasily aware that nothing would stop him from having her in his arms again.

  He smiled in the darkness, his teeth flashing white. In his arms and naked, with no possibility of interruption until he had slaked himself on that sweet feminine body. Which might take awhile, he admitted, thinking of her generous breasts... . The impertinent rod between his thighs painfully erect, he decided that if he didn’t want to injure himself, he’d do well to think of something else besides the little widow. His attention reluctantly shifted to Silas’s announcement and Canfield.

  Canfield had been furious at the news that the women would not be returning to Surrey. Why? What did it matter to Canfield where they lived? Luc thought about it. If Gillian and Sophia returned to Surrey, it would be, from what Luc understood, a small household of women: just the two ladies and a few female servants. In a situation like that, with Stanley presumably going back to London and Silas at High Tower, the women would have no one to prevent an unscrupulous individual, like Canfield, he mused, from taking advantage of the lack of male protection... . Silas was no stalwart warrior, but he had several brawny young men on his staff and only a fool would attempt any sort of ugly mischief while the women were at High Tower.

  So Canfield was up to no good and he needed the women in a situation where he could
control events. Luc concluded that Gillian had to be the object of whatever plans Canfield had—Sophia was a handsome woman, but Gillian ... A surge of desire coursed through him. Oui! Canfield wanted Gillian.

  There could be other explanations, but remembering Canfield’s position on the sofa next to Gillian, he thought the best explanation for Canfield’s displeasure at Silas’s announcement was that it upset some sort of scheme the other man had involving Gillian. For a moment, he wondered if his own interest in the young lady wasn’t coloring his thoughts—because he wanted her, he assumed that Canfield did, too.

  Luc shook his head. No. Gillian might send his blood raging through his veins, clouding his brain, but away from her, his brain worked as excellently as it always had. Canfield wanted Gillian. But the lady wanted nothing to do with Canfield, he reminded himself, clearly recalling the stiffness of her body and the quick way she had moved away from the other man... .

  His horse snorted and shied, disrupting Luc’s introspection. Ever alert for danger, he pulled lightly on the reins, halting the horse, and glanced around for the cause of his mount’s reaction. They were stopped in the middle of a curve in the narrow, meandering road. The landscape was open meadows and rolling chalk hills, but he’d been traveling along a road adjacent to a creek and with the edges of the creek crowded with willows, beech trees and shrubby bushes, his view was obscured.

  The scant moonlight increased his inability to pierce the darkness, but as his horse continued to fidget and snort, he listened intently. No foreign sound carried in the night air, and deciding it was either the scent of a badger or a hunting fox that had disturbed his horse, Luc tapped his heels to the animal’s sleek sides.