She believed she was now totally free of Eustace, physically and legally, at the exalted age of one and twenty. Her heart fluttered as rapidly as a hummingbirds’ wings beneath her ribs. All of her worries should be wiped away. She was a now well-to-do young woman. No more shopping in second-hand shops. She could employ a fancy modiste, or hire a French milliner to create her bonnets—the kind with lots of fluffy ostrich plumes. Emily smiled to herself. She loved feathers. And any day if she wished, she could browse along Regent and Bond Streets to her heart’s content. Even lease a house with servants of her own if that was what she wanted.
And she would never again have to seek employment…
Oh, my goodness, I forgot all about Lilianne! The notion had finally leapt into her head. Launching Lilianne’s come out had been a prime reason the earl asked her to be his countess.
* * * *
“My dear girl,” Gavin said, “you look good enough to…I mean…you look exceptionally lovely tonight.” She certainly didn’t look like the governess Gavin hired, but rather a beautiful, sophisticated, ravishing woman.
The earl almost bit his tongue when he first saw her.
Bloody hell, you look delicious enough to eat, my dear. I wish to taste every part of you.
Had he really swallowed air like a callow schoolboy?
Emily was a vision in pale pink, shimmering satin, her woman’s body exquisitely sculpted by the wickedly deceptive, glamorous ball-gown. When she smiled up at him, her bright, crystal-clear eyes met his, and Leathem felt himself drowning in those blue waters almost immediately. His gaze dropped unconsciously to her bosom. Her smooth, creamy flesh teased the dangerously low neckline; the deep valley between those lush round contours quivered every time she inhaled. A new jab of lust speared his groin. Could she possibly guess the carnal thoughts taunting him?
“I’m glad you think so, my lord,” Emily murmured, rather coyly.
Gavin forced himself to subdue his unruly desires. She had all but undone him in by wearing that ball gown. He felt frazzled, his senses sizzling with erotic heat. Not a foregone conclusion, but lust attacked him it seems. He ached to plunder the sweetness behind those rosy lips. But not gently, the way he had before. And he was wild to bury his nose deep in the plush hills and valleys of her nubile body. Emily Dancy had scored deep grooves across his psyche. He never felt quite this way before. Because of it, he wasn’t able to forget her. He yearned to tear off his white evening gloves, bare his fingers and knuckles, and caress each and every soft curl in that elaborate hairdo until her silky tresses, unhampered by hairpins, flowed like dark water over him to sooth his bruises. He wanted to slip the pink satin off her creamy shoulders, and lavish her full breasts with expert kisses, tonguing her nipples until they blossomed, rosy and hard. He’d teach her how to enjoy lovemaking—how to please her—slow and gently—knowing Emily had never yet experienced a man’s full passion.
God help him, how he wanted her! But even more, he wanted her to want him the same way. His cock twitched behind the skintight, pristine evening breeches when a second thought came to mind.
What if she turns me down?
Several possible reasons dawned on him.
First, he was almost twice her age. It didn’t matter to him, but would it matter to her? He remembered Anthony Kendall. He was her age. She said she had forgotten him. But had she?
Would she refuse him even though he helped her reconnect with her grandfather?
And a more very important reason. Emily no longer needed to hire on as anyone’s governess. For him or anyone else. She was well-to-do after getting her generous inheritance. What if she did refuse him, would she remain in London with the Porters? He would have more opportunity to court her there if that happened. Or, she may wish to go back and live in Toynton-under-Hill. Now she could live wherever she wanted, even with her grandfather. The old gent had invited her to stay with him in Lesser Bodem.
The more Leathem thought about it, the more his offer had sounded like a business contract and not a marriage proposal. She may very well reject him simply because he asked her the wrong way—to help him launch Lilianne’s come out. At the time it had been his only reason. But things changed drastically between them since then, had they not?
Doubts whirled round in Gavin’s head.
But by now he should know his own mind—what would make him content. Unfortunately, against his will he had fallen into amour for a slip of a girl half his age. No, that wasn’t completely true. Emily Dancy was lovely to look at, an enticing and enthralling woman who turned out to be very courageous and intelligent as well. A woman a man with any eyes in his head and a sharp mind could easily be entranced by her.
Dammit! He had discovered a woman he could finally believe in and trust after two long decades. A woman he now knew he truly loved!
And now he might lose her.
* * * *
Gavin held out his elbow and Emily placed her satin-gloved hand on his forearm as they descended the central staircase and walked along a hall to the ballroom. She knew dancing had been going on for more than an hour, because she’d heard music coming from below.
Leathem looked splendid in black and white evening clothes, as handsome as any knight in shining armor. Masculine and virile, he looked what he had been born to—magnificent and aristocratic. His ebony hair was black and shiny as a raven’s feathers. Slicked back, strands of silver glinted at his temples under the light of hundreds of candles burning in the massive chandeliers overhead. They entered the ballroom, and it was no wonder several women’s eyes followed Leathem as the pair made their way across the parquet floor toward Wilma and Harry.
“Ah, here you are,” the viscount greeted them heartily, first shaking hands with the earl. Emily and Wilma dipped curtseys as the men bowed. Wilma turned aside to whisper confidentially to Emily. “You were late coming down. I hope everything is well.” A half smile twitched a corner of the viscountess’ mouth. She leaned closer. “Have you given the earl an answer yet?”
Wilma wanted to know, but Emily whispered, “No.”
Wilma persisted. “Good heavens, Em, what is stopping you? I thought you decided to agree.”
“Shush,” Emily responded just as young Lord Witherspoon approached them. He was smiling when he bowed before them. “Good evening, ma’am. Miss Dancy.” The young lord had partnered Wilma in the Treasure Hunt. “I’d be jolly glad if you ladies will allow me to sign your dance cards.” Blond and blue-eyed, and still a youth, Witherspoon was loose-limbed and lanky, a bit taller than both women.
Wilma shot a glance first at the aristocratic young man, and then at Emily, who smiled back. “Why, I’d be delighted, Lord Witherspoon,” Wilma replied, handing him her card as he duly initialed it. Emily did likewise. The handsome young lord thanked them. They watched him stroll around the dance floor signing more dance cards.
“He must plan to dance with every lady here tonight,” Willy giggled. “Ahh, what a dashing rake that young fellow will make in another five years.”
An hour and a half later, Leathem had danced with Emily and with Wilma while Harry did likewise. Later, Emily lost track of the earl. He signed Emily’s card three times—her first dance, the supper dance, and the last waltz of the evening. Three sets! Surely, the duke’s guests were noticing and wondering what was going on. Of course, they had taken notice. The earl hadn’t danced with Emily all week. And Emily knew it was odd to say the least for a man to dance with the same partner thrice in one evening unless she was his fiancée or his wife.
Her heart began to pitter-pat.
Wilma and Emily’s dance cards were soon full. The orchestra struck up a waltz for the supper dance—the second waltz of the evening. “I believe this is my dance, Miss Dancy,” Leathem said formally, surprising her when his injured hand slid possessively onto the small of her back. She felt the heat of his palm through his glove as he guided her onto the dance floor.
Gavin grasped her waist,
took her gloved hand loosely into his, and swept her into the gliding steps of the Viennese waltz.
The earl’s arms felt nothing like any of those with whom she danced earlier this week. Her partners had been young or close to her age. A few others, like Lord Harry, were in their prime like the earl. And Emily knew at once that Gavin was an excellent dancer. The difference was immediate as he held her firmly, his decisive lead whirling her around the floor as he guided her expertly between other twirling couples. Her mouth felt dry. Her breathing fluttered. She bit her lower lip and swallowed. A blush crept up from her chest and warmed her cheeks. She felt as if she were dancing on a cloud.
The earl’s gaze captured hers as they waltzed, his dark eyes never leaving hers. Tilting her head back, she peered into those mesmerizing eyes. She felt immersed in their dark pupils; the ballroom and its dancing couples faded into a hazy blur. The earl had to be the most devastatingly handsome, kind, and wonderful man in the world. Why hadn’t she realized that before now? It was a heady feeling dancing within his embrace.
A different, ardent look startled Emily when she met his eyes. The earl tightened his hold on her waist, and her steps faltered. He pulled her closer to steady her. Her breasts brushed intimately against his chest as they whirled across the dance floor. Emily dare not complain, but awareness sizzled along her nerves. She’d never felt so conscious of the earl’s virility as her fingers lay on his broad shoulder in the waltz, the heat, and the crisp, clean smell of him as his gloved fingers gripped her other hand. His palm pressed against her spine, strong and possessively. She wondered silently if his bruised hands still pained him as he twirled her around the ballroom. Emily had waltzed at impromptu dances held during the week, but she never felt quite like this. Not once had the earl asked her to stand up with him. But tonight he initialed her dance card for three sets. Was it because he kept her with him until he knew her answer?
Gavin lightly stroked the curve between Emily’s thumb and index finger beneath his glove, a subtle caress that had her heart thumping. He saw the pink tip of Emily’s tongue lick across her bottom lip, and another slash of lust sliced through him. Reacting unconsciously, he squeezed her fingers hard.
“M’lord? Don’t your hands still pain you?” Emily asked. “I felt you wince just now?”
He wasn’t aware that his grip had tightened. “Not to worry. I’m quite well, my dear.”
Silently, they danced along the room’s perimeter, until Gavin spoke again. “Have you been enjoying yourself?” His voice was a raw rumble. When she didn’t answer immediately, he prodded her for a response “You didn’t answer me, Emily. Was the duke’s house party not as pleasurable as you expected?”
As if coming out of a haze, Emily said, “Unh, I’m sorry, my lord. I had a lovely time…a wondrous week, really…it’s been special in so many ways.” She continued, thoughtfully. “You can’t imagine what it meant to me. Never in my life did I ever expect to be a guest here at Wyndemere.”
“Neither did I,” he said, his lips twisting in a wry smile.
The waltz music ended, and Gavin placed Emily’s hand on his forearm and led her, not into the supper room where most of the crowd was headed, but through the French doors and out to the balcony. Emily’s breathing faltered. Was it time for her to make her decision known?
She knew the rules of polite behavior, sprinkled with country manners and the etiquette her mother taught her, but she still wondered if she would fail the earl. Embarrass him if they wed. Worry plagued her like a sore toe aggravated by a tight shoe. Trepidation wove through her. What if London’s ton discovered she had a few noble ancestors, but none with a long history? She may never meet their lofty standards. Willy promised her she would be fine, but she didn’t feel fine. She felt…fretful…uncomfortable…and concerned.
A second major hurdle had hit her hard. What kind of marriage would it be if it started as a business agreement? She dreamt of marriage and children, but she wanted one like her parents shared. They had ups and downs, but their feelings for each other never wavered. If marrying was the sole reason the earl wanted for helping Lilianne to make her come out, she didn’t think she could bear it.
Unfortunately, she had fallen in love with the earl. Her feelings for him changed drastically after she returned to Surrey with him. Leathem was different from any man she knew. A man like Anthony Kendall, who was her age, handsome, and quite charming, and someone whom she learned was a rank coward, was nothing like the earl who fought so valiantly to save her from getting mauled by her uncle.
As they stepped into the cool night air on the balcony, Gavin led Emily away from the French doors. “Our presence here tonight seems a bit like déjà vu,” he said, quietly. “Was it only last week I discovered you on this dark balcony? I had no idea it was Lilianne’s governess hiding in the shadows.”
“I couldn’t believe it either, my lord,” Emily murmured. Then, because she was nervous, she giggled. “I was so embarrassed out here trying not to sneeze.”
“Now stop lording me, Emily,” he chided her again firmly. “Saying Gavin is much better.”
“Sorry.” She exhaled. “I must try to remember.” She repeated teasingly, “Gavin—Gavin—mmm…Gavin.”
“Ah…yes.” He chuckled with her, his male laughter genuine, deep, and low. “I like hearing you say my name.”
“Oh…well…”
The moon slid from behind a thin layer of clouds, lighting up the balcony’s dark corners enough for them to see clearly. His eyes pierced intensely at Emily when the earl stood very close and bent toward her.
Emily tilted her head to one side. “Have you ever wondered what keeps the stars up in the sky?” she asked rhetorically, moving a bit away from him, and staring up at the star-studded night. “I often wonder about it myself.”
Gavin smiled, his gaze softening as he focused on Emily’s upturned face. “Not all of the stars stay there. Some fall to earth and shatter. Have you ever seen a shooting star?”
Her arched brows lifted in question. “Goodness, no. Have you?”
“Yes. A few times during my life so far.” Gavin’s dark eyes reflected light from the moon. He now bent and brushed his lips across Emily’s, slowly and gently.
The moment the earl’s mouth touched hers, he knew he was in deep trouble. Her lips were as warm and soft as silk. He remembered how sweet they tasted. He was surprised Emily didn’t stop him. When she didn’t, he slid his gloves along her bare arms and deftly pulled her into a full embrace. Grasping her chin between his thumb and finger, his mouth dipped low in a new kind of kiss, one more passionate. Gavin was powerless to stop his tongue from sliding between her parted lips. She reacted with surprise at first, but then she sighed softly. Did he shock her? Probably because of her girlish innocence and lack of experience, but he cradled her head in his palms and took his time, and kissed her again, this time more slowly, devouring her mouth, long, and deep.
His arms drew her even closer. Emily’s eyelids closed as she melted into his embrace. He licked the tip of his tongue along the seam of her mouth, and she willingly opened for him. Gavin seized an opportunity a second time to plunder her sweetness.
Leathem skimmed his lips along the bare skin of Emily’s neck—skin as silky smooth as the pink satin enfolding her creamy shoulders. He was instantaneously hard, and his cock craved fulfillment. He leaned away from her briefly, before kissing her again. A swift tide of male lust had returned to swamp his senses with powerful carnality. Heat throbbed through him like plucking mandolin strings. Only his ability to maintain his hereditary honor kept him from seeking a place he could sink his thick cock deep and long inside her for as long as it took to satisfy them both. He sucked in a reluctant breath, and abruptly released her. He hadn’t meant to kiss her that passionately or that often, but when their lips met, something inside him exploded. He was hard, and unable to stop kissing her. Of course, he wanted to do more than kiss her. She tasted so sweet, fresh, and new, her p
illowy breasts pliant and lush pressed against him. Staring down at her in the moonlight, her lips were damp from his kisses. It pained him like hell not to yank her back into his arms and devour her essence all over again. He knew, however, he must cease and desist. She was not one of his normal bed partners; Emily was untouched by carnal experience. He offered her a marriage bargain for all the wrong reasons, but he still couldn’t forget the hot flush of desire boiling through him at this very moment.
* * * *
Tangling tongues felt utterly strange but exciting, and Emily was not repulsed by the earl’s new ardent kisses. Instead, she wallowed in the new sensations.
Unexpectedly she had wrapped her arms around Gavin’s neck, clinging to his broad shoulders for an uninhibited kiss she initiated on her own.
Her knees wobbled. She trembled anew when wonderful feelings crashed through her. The last time she felt so safe and cared for was ages ago when her parents were alive. Not until the earl lunged at her uncle in Grafton’s office, his pounding fists knocking Eustace to the floor, and allowing her to breathe freely again. The earl had comforted her tenderly afterward. She felt safe and unafraid then, his hard, masculinity pressing against her curves. How extraordinarily tender and sensuous his lips felt when they caressed her, she was ready to remain in his arms forever.
If only…
Emily hung onto Gavin, stunned by the strong feelings assaulting her untutored sensibilities. He had kissed her before, but never like this. His arms seemed forged of iron, surrounding her with his strength. Passion sizzled like a lit fuse along her nerves. A fierce ache burned like wildfire on a direct path to her woman’s center. This worldly man’s kisses branded them permanently on her psyche.
Emily went limp in the earl’s arms.
“Are you all right?” Gavin whispered, his breath brushing over her ear as he held her away from him, gazing down at her.
The Marriage Bargain Page 24