Never Miss a Chance (Kellington Book Two)

by Maureen Driscoll

  She even looked palatable today. Her modiste had a talent for emphasizing Edith’s strengths. Her bosom was well displayed, even if it was smaller than his usual taste. But for some reason it worked on her. Something about the cut of her gown brought out the generous swell of her hips. For a fleeting moment, Stalford wondered what it would be like to grab onto those hips as he plunged his cock deep inside her.

  Physically, her sister Charlotte was much more his type. Full-breasted, long legged. She’d made her availability for dalliance known to him the previous night, as she’d cornered him in the garden when he’d gone out to have a smoke and relieve himself on the specially bred Riverton Rose. She’d caught up to him on the smoking portion of the journey, then grabbed his cock and told him to visit her chamber. She’d also made it clear that while her matrimonial sights were still placed at a marquess level and above, there was a possibility she might consent to marry him if enough groveling were involved. She didn’t specify the amount, but Stalford assumed it would be rather a lot.

  Stalford had been tempted to take her up on the offer of her bed. It was a rare occasion indeed when he passed up the chance to have sex with a lady as superficially lovely as Charlotte. But for some reason he’d turned her down, only to have her question his manhood loud enough for a nearby footman to hear.

  Now he was in a secluded area with the plain sister, who’d most likely laugh him off the estate if he made a move. Not that he was thinking of making one, of course. She was really a most unpleasant chit, despite the dowry.

  “What in God’s name are you thinking about, Stalford?” she asked. “You look like a simpleton denied a treat at the fair.”

  “Pardon me, Edith. I was lost in thought. Pray repeat what you were saying. I can only assume it was something brimming with the milk of human kindness.”

  “What are you doing to separate my brother from Elizabeth?”

  “I was hoping to act the gentleman…”

  “Yes, ‘act’ being the operative word.”

  “Might I continue?” At Edith’s grudging nod, he did. “I shall court her and listen to her plans for changing the world until I want to cram knitting needles into my ears to avoid hearing any more drivel about the injustice of it all. As if I gave a shite. And I believe I can use that word without offending your delicate sensibilities?”

  “You’re going to have to do a great deal more than that if you want her to break things off with Riverton,” said Edith. “Today’s Times contains an announcement of your betrothal to Elizabeth. I’m certain Lynwood will make haste in coming here once he sees it, so you have only a limited amount of time to make that fantasy a reality.”

  Stalford looked at her dumb-founded. “You placed an announcement in the Times?”

  “Of course I did, just as I arranged for the insufferable Lady Nicholls and the pain in the arse Melissa to be stranded on the road Riverton would take to come home. I couldn’t very well leave things in your moronic hands, could I? Of every useless, good-for-nothing….”

  Whatever else Edith was about to say was lost as Stalford’s lips came crashing down on hers. After a shocked moment, she pulled back. They were both trying to catch their breath.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “To shut you up, Edith.” Then he pulled her to him again and there was nothing soft or easy about the embrace. Just two people devouring each other in a kiss. She reached for his hand, then placed it on her breast. He grabbed her other hand and pressed it onto his cock. He was pleased to hear her gasp as she felt just how hard he was.

  She pulled him to the ground and they rolled on the soft pine needles, each fighting the other for supremacy. He’d never been one to seduce virgins because there was too great of a chance of it leading to the dueling field. But with Edith, he’d make an exception. He knew things were moving fast and he needed to slow down at least a little to keep from hurting the chit physically. But before he could even think of tempering his movements, he was flat on his back and Edith was straddling him.

  She was also releasing the placket of his breeches. Without thinking, he pulled Edith’s gown up, feeling her strong thighs that gripped his hips. His erection sprang forth and Edith squeezed his cock, then began to stroke. The head was inches away from her curls. But he needed to pull back. He needed to prepare her.

  “Edith,” he could barely get the word out. She was stroking his cock like a courtesan and he was in danger of embarrassing himself. “This could hurt….”

  Edith positioned herself over him then plunged down until he was deeply seated in her. He almost spilled his seed. Nothing had ever felt as good as Edith on top while he was deep inside.

  She paused and met his eyes. “You didn’t think I was a virgin, did you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Imbecile,” she said as she swooped down and bit his shoulder harder than one might expect, then began riding him.

  All thoughts of going easy fled Stalford’s mind. The harder he thrust, the more wanton she became. He gripped her hips so hard, surely he must be leaving bruises. But even as he eased his hold, her hands came down to make him grip harder. Each of his upward thrusts was met with the tightening of her inner muscles. She was wet and frantic in her need. She was nothing like the self-conscious women of the ton, so carefully calculated in their every movement even in bed. Edith was wild and on the cusp of coming, which was good, since Stalford was very, very near the edge.

  He reached up and squeezed a breast, and that was all it took for Edith to come – which brought on his climax. It was explosive, with the contractions of her sheath milking him dry. At long last, the pulsing stopped and Edith collapsed on him. He found himself stroking her back and kissing her temple.

  After a moment, a realization struck. “Edith, you didn’t allow me to pull out. There’s a possibility I may have got you with child.”

  Edith pulled back enough to look in his eyes. “Before I came here I used a sponge soaked in vinegar. You have heard of such a thing, haven’t you? With as often as you rut, I should hate to think of a world littered with Stalford bastards, bringing down the intelligence of the next generation of milk maids and footmen.”

  Without ceremony, she got off him and began putting herself to rights, leaving him with the oddest sense of loss.

  “Edith,” he said to her turned back. “I should like to think that any bastard of mine would rise at least to underbutler status. But how did you know I would kiss you and it would lead to this?”

  “Because, my lord,” she said as she prepared to take her leave. “If you hadn’t, I would have. I expect Lynwood here on the morrow. Do what you must to become affianced.”

  He looked at her, at a loss for what to say.

  Edith raised her chin. “Is there something you wish to add?”

  Stalford looked at the woman who was so different from the one he’d just tumbled with. Then he shook his head. “Nothing, Edith. I have nothing to say.”

  “Good,” she said. She turned and walked away, not giving him the chance to see the moisture that suddenly obscured her vision. Must be an allergy to the damned trees, she thought. She’d have them cut down straight away.

  * * *

  Lizzie hadn’t slept well. She couldn’t stop thinking of what she’d shared with Marcus at the lake. He’d walked her back to the house, then asked if he could spend the night in her bed. It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to tell him no. But she knew that if she shared any more intimacies with him, she’d never be able to let him go. And he deserved more from life than the scandals she would bring upon him. Now she just had to find a way to break their engagement without letting him know the real reason.

  She entered the morning room to find her troubled mind gave her no appetite. Of course it didn’t help matters to see the beautiful Miss Simons delicately picking at a hard-boiled egg and dressed like the King might drop by.

  “Good morning,” said Miss Simons as Lizzie entered the
room. “Oh dear, you look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

  Lizzie didn’t think she looked all that wretched, but the girl was trying to be nice. She sat at the table, then smiled at Mansfield as he served her coffee.

  “Mansfield,” said Miss Simons. “Do be so kind as run to the kitchen to fetch me another egg. This one seems to be most irregular in its shell.”

  “Of course, miss,” said Mansfield, as he bowed and left for the kitchen. But not at a run.

  “Lady Elizabeth, I do hope you find Riverton Farms to your liking,” said Miss Simons as she took a delicate sip of tea. “Although I cannot imagine your finding a single fault. I spent many a happy day here as a child and the grounds are exquisite. You must enjoy the wide variety of flora. I can name at least three dozen distinct plants on the grounds, although I confess to only knowing their Latin names, which must be such a bore to those who don’t speak the language.”

  “Yes, I can imagine some would find it less than scintillating,” said Lizzie, counting herself among them. “Did you spend a great deal of time here?”

  “Oh, yes. Our parents were quite close, which threw Marcus and me together ever so often. You might say I was his only friend. I have certainly always had his best interests at heart.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, when it came time for Marcus to choose a wife, I made it known that I would not be interested.” Here, Miss Simons blushed a delicate pink.

  That was certainly news to Lizzie and, she suspected, would be a surprise to both Riverton’s and Miss Simons’s families. “Why ever not?”

  “It had nothing to do with him. Indeed, I cannot imagine a better husband. In fact, it was not that I cared too little. It was that I cared too much. He is destined for great things. He always has been. And, as the daughter of a lowly viscount with no exalted connections, I was hardly the sort of wife he should choose. He needed a wife of higher rank, such as yourself.”

  “Surely Riverton would place little emphasis on social position.”

  “But he has, obviously,” said Miss Simons, then put her hand over her mouth and blushed a bit more when she realized her faux pas. “That is, I’m sure he holds you in the highest esteem and is most certainly….intrigued by those treatises you go about penning. But in my case, I was concerned by how others might perceive it if he married only a viscount’s daughter. It’s no secret that his peers in the House of Lords have high expectations for him. I should hate to be the one to bring him low. And here is Mansfield with my new egg. How wonderful.”

  “Yes, it’s delightful,” said Lizzie as she thought the matter over. Perhaps the answer to her problem with Riverton was seated at the table, wearing an ethereal shade of pink and tapping at an egg as if it were an incendiary device. Miss Simons had, after all, been Marcus’s only friend. A friend he hadn’t thought to tell Lizzie about the previous evening. Perhaps a match between them would be just the thing.

  Because Miss Simons wasn’t the only one to love him too much to stand in his way.

  * * *

  Lady Riverton had decreed the day would be perfect for a picnic by the lake. The Earl of Stalford had then added the rather scandalous suggestion that those who wished to go swimming should do so. The very last place Lizzie wanted to go was back to the lake, but at her aunt’s prodding she had very little recourse other than to accept an old sea bathing costume of Edith’s – which was several sizes too big – and accompany everyone to the lake.

  The Marley siblings had no interest in swimming, so they sat at a table near the lake telling Aunt Prue and Mariah of their latest discoveries. Miss Simon’s bathing costume fit perfectly, even if it was a bit on the small side. She was unused to walking over stones, so she asked for Riverton’s escort, which he was only too happy to provide. As Arthur was busy tending to Miss Rennard – who looked like she needed little to no assistance – Lizzie was unsurprised to find Stalford by her side. He was less talkative than usual and in the course of the quarter mile walk to the lake made only one improper suggestion. Lizzie was on the verge of asking if he was under the weather, when they finally arrived.

  Lizzie was overwhelmed with memories from the previous evening. She dreaded meeting Riverton’s eyes, to see the knowledge he had in them. But in the end, she couldn’t resist looking at him, only to see him talking and laughing – laughing! – with Miss Simons. She of the vulgarly small bathing costume. It was really outside of enough. Lizzie left Stalford’s side, then stormed past Riverton and Miss Simons without a word. She waded out into the water, then began swimming. She wanted to get away from all of them, even knowing she’d never be able to escape herself.

  The water helped cool her down from the hot summer sun, but did little to settle her emotions. She knew she was doing the right thing in letting Marcus go, but it didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. It was also quite irritating to be swimming in Edith’s bathing costume. There was more material than she was used to, and it was weighing her down. She continued swimming, distancing herself from the others. When she reached the middle of the lake she stopped, treading water as she watched the others near the shore. Riverton caught her eye and raised a hand as if to wave. Unable to look at him even another minute, she dove beneath the surface and swam underwater.

  The lake was murky, so she didn’t realize until it was too late that there was a submerged tree in her path. Unfortunately, Lizzie snagged her costume on it. She broke the surface, then tugged at it. The costume didn’t move. She dove beneath the surface again, to try to move the tree. She surfaced for air, then repeated her efforts. This time she was joined by Marcus underwater. He tugged at the tree with her, then something broke loose from the log. Lizzie grabbed the object, which felt like a small chest of some sort. Then Marcus dragged her to the surface.

  “What the devil do you mean by swimming all the way out here?” he asked as he held her to ensure she was all right.

  “I’m surprised you noticed. You were having such a good time with your old chum.”

  “Manners dictate that I make all my guests feel at home. My association with Miss Simons has been a long one and we were simply reminiscing about the past.”

  “But you laugh with her!” said Lizzie, even knowing how pathetic she sounded.

  “I put on a show with her,” said Marcus, as his hands caressed her waist. “You bring me real joy.”

  This was not the direction she needed to go with him. So she examined the small chest in her hand, instead. “What is this curious box?” she asked, as she held it up for his review. It was a perfectly formed container, but Lizzie could find no way to open it, even though the lid looked to have a simple latch.

  “I’ve never seen it before,” said Riverton. “It looks to have been in the water for a good long time. Come back to shore with me so we can examine it. I don’t want you out here any longer with Edith’s costume hindering your swimming.”

  “I’m sure Miss Simons floats across the lake like a swan.”

  Riverton looked at her. “Did you bump your head on that log? You’re not making much sense. Let me help you back to shore.”

  They swam side-by-side back to the others. Lizzie thought of the last time they’d been in the lake together and as she caught Riverton’s eye, it appeared his mind was similarly engaged.

  “Are you all right, Lady Elizabeth?” asked Miss Simons when they reached the bank. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life as when I saw you flailing about in the water. Perhaps I should give you swimming lessons.”

  “How kind of you, Miss Simons,” said Prue, as she held out a blanket for Lizzie, with Arthur by her side. “But I assure you my niece is an expert swimmer and rarely, if ever, flails.”

  “Whatever are you holding in your hand?” asked Miss Marley.

  “Oh, this?” said Lizzie as she held up the small chest for all to see. “It was caught in a tree underwater. It’s most curious, is it not?”

  As Arthur looked around, he saw that the Marley siblings were m
ost curious, indeed, to see the chest. And so was Miss Rennard.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Dressed in a new gown after her bath, Lizzie turned the stone box in her hands. She wasn’t sure why she was so fascinated with the tiny chest. Perhaps it was the distraction her head needed to stop thinking about Marcus. God only knew her heart wouldn’t let go of the matter for even a moment.

  But as she turned the box over yet again, a solution came to mind. One that was quite unpalatable, but could solve the problem facing her.

  She set out in search of Stalford and found him in the library, drinking Riverton’s best brandy. He languidly rose when she entered the room.

  “I hope you’re feeling better after your mishap in the lake,” he said.

  “Lud, why is everyone making so much of that? I simply snagged Edith’s bathing costume on a branch. And I wouldn’t have done that if it hadn’t been too big for me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Edith’s size,” said Stalford defensively, before throwing back the rest of his drink.

  “I didn’t say there was. It was simply too big for me.”

  “Perhaps you should gain weight.”

  “Stalford, what is wrong with you today? I’ve come here on a very difficult mission only to find you acting most irregularly.”

  “You can’t even insult a person properly. Edith does it much better, you know.”

  “I’m sure she’s had a great deal more practice. Now before you go off in defense of Edith once again, I need you to listen to my, uh, proposal.”

  Stalford raised a brow. “What is it?”

  “Well,” said Lizzie, as she began to pace. “I was wondering if you might like to become betrothed to me. Not to be married, of course, just betrothed.”

  “Excuse me for being dim-witted – a state I’m told I’m in quite often – but what other betrothals are there, besides marriage?”