“What?” she asked in a whisper.
“Does it sicken you to think of my kissing you…because I am such a wrinkled-up old gentleman?” He smiled slyly. His demeanor had indeed changed. Maria began to sense a sort of delightful panic rising in her bosom.
“Certainly not,” she answered. “I mean to say…what are you talking about, Brock?” She took a step backward, but he caught her hand before she could take another.
“Let us have another practice of the lingering waltz, shall we, Miss Holt.” It wasn’t a question. He took her in his arms once again and improperly pulled her tightly against his firm body.
Maria was entirely disturbed. They had spent a great amount of time in close contact, even embraced, exchanging affectionate, benign kisses on cheeks and forehead. But somehow this was different—the manner in which he held her, moved with her, most of all the manner in which he was looking at her.
“I make a request of you, sweet Maria,” Brock whispered enticingly into her ear. “May I be the first? The first to kiss you…truly kiss you? To savor the sweet confection of your mouth and let you taste the flavor of mine? So that for the rest of your life…if any other man may kiss you, your soul will cry, ‘Only Brock. I only wish it were Brock!’”
Maria’s eyes widened at the alluring words breathed from his lips. Her mouth ran moist and hot, her skin prickling with goose flesh. She had so often dreamt of such a kiss from Brock, but could it be he truly meant to bless her lips with such a treasure?
Maria shook her head a bit, smiled, and sighed with relief, realizing he was in jest. Entirely in jest.
“That is very arrogant, Brockton Thorton. You talk as if no one could ever compare to you…in…in that respect.”
Brock simply said, “Do you doubt it?”
Maria was further assured then of his being only in jest and smiled up into his smoldering eyes. “No, darling Brock. I do not doubt it.”
Maria tossed her head back as a giggle rose in her, but the sound was silenced in her throat as she felt Brock’s mouth caress the tender flesh of her neck. Instantly straightening, she looked at him in astonishment. The intoxicatingly attractive man grinned. He bent, capturing the string of pearls at her neck with his teeth and tugging at them playfully. When he released the adornment, Maria pushed at his shoulders, stepping away from him.
His smile faded as he at once began to apologize. “Forgive me, Maria. I…was wrong to tease you in such an inappropriate manner.”
But Maria had felt the warmth of his lips on her flesh, thrilled at his playful act with the pearls, and she caught his arm to stall him as he turned to leave her.
Though every part of her being trembled with uncertainty, she asked, “Were you, Brock…were you only teasing me?” Hope burned fierce in her heart, desire with even more ferocity.
He paused for a moment, yet not turning to face her. “No,” he answered at last.
Maria’s heart began to pound with such brutality it pained her. To kiss Brockton Thorton, to feel his lips pressed to hers…it was a dream she dared not wish would come true. But she did wish it.
Swallowing hard and summoning every fragment of courage within her, she asked, “Then…will you? I mean to say…if it would not be an unpleasant task to you…will you indeed?”
Brock turned and looked at her, still frowning. “Will I what, Maria?”
Courage was quickly abandoning her, but she endeavored with what little remained and whispered, “Will you…will you kiss me? I know I am so terribly young in your grown-man’s eyes, Brock…and not matured and ravishing as those women you are used to. Still…I…”
Instantly, he gathered her into his powerful arms. A handsome grin of pleasure revealed the dimple in his cheek. Maria’s heart was beating so madly she thought she might indeed expire. She fought to slow her quickened breath and hammering heart as Brock kissed her cheek very tenderly, very lingeringly.
“There is nothing on this earth, or in heaven for that matter…nothing I would find more pleasing, my pretty peach,” he whispered. Maria sighed, letting her body lean into his. “Still, I forewarn you, Miss Holt…I am about to commence with robbing you of your naiveté,” Brock whispered, his mouth so close to her own.
“Well, you had better make haste, milord, before the victim in question is lost in her cowardice,” she whispered. In an instant, the perception of his lips pressed to hers drowned her reason.
Brock kissed Maria most sweetly and gently at first, no doubt allowing for her anxious state of mind and inexperience. He paused for a moment, taking her trembling hands and placing them at the back of his own neck. “It is much improved if you…accept and return my affections, Maria.”
She glanced away shyly, but he took hold of her chin and directed her face toward his. Finding her mouth once more, he softly caressed her lips with his own, now and again pausing to press a tender kiss to them. Gradually, the kisses he administered to her lengthened, the insistence with which he kissed her increasing until, all at once, he seemed to grow suddenly impatient. Taking her face between his capable hands, Brock’s mouth captured hers in a firm and driven kiss. She sensed the moisture of his mouth, felt the moisture of her own increase a hundredfold. As his kiss intensified, Maria felt suddenly freed, liberated, and she commenced in letting her passion for the man she loved break her bonds of hesitation and fear, returning his kisses with vigorous confidence. Brock’s need to instruct her ended swiftly as Maria’s feelings and instincts escaped the tethers of youth.
As Brock drew Maria into his arms and against the power of his body, the variation in their ages disappeared. As their mouths mingled in shared affection, she surrendered her soul to him. Everything she felt for him, everything she buried deep within for so long, escaped and was free as he held her there, his hands caressing her soft shoulders, his mouth quenching her thirst for his kiss.
After a time, he broke the seal of their lips, placing a lingering, caressive kiss on her shoulder. He winked at her, smiling as she blushed and glanced away.
“Forgive me, Maria,” he whispered, turning her away from him and pulling her back against his torso as his arms tightened about her waist. “But it had to be me. Only me,” he said, placing lingering kisses on the back of her neck and then the bareness of her shoulder.
She turned in his arms and looked lovingly into the delicious brown of his eyes. “Yes, Brock,” she said, caressing his rugged cheek with one palm. “It could only have been you.”
He smiled and playfully tweaked her nose, pulling her hand from his cheek and placing a warm, moist kiss in her palm.
“Was it truly such a terrible day after all?” he asked.
Maria smoothed her hair and, feigning an indifferent manner, said, “No. I suppose not.”
“Then off with you, chit,” he chuckled. “Compose yourself before dinner, lest my mother suspect me of some tomfoolery where you’re about.”
Maria smiled at him, her love, her heart’s desire. She paused in leaving him, not wanting to take her gaze from his handsome face.
“Off with you, kitten!” he chuckled. “I have damaged you enough for one day.”
Maria nodded, understanding what had happened between them must be kept secret and safe. Further, she understood it was the stuff of dreams, knowing dreams only came true once in a lucky person’s lifetime. Still, she tried to reconcile herself to the knowledge of one fleeting moment held in Brock’s arms, savoring his delicious kiss. She tried to tell her soul once would be enough. Then she turned from him and hurried up the stairs to her chamber.
SERENITY
Once isolated within the privacy of her chamber, Maria bolted the door and leaned back against it. Her hands rested at her bosom, her heart thumping wildly to the point of discomfort. Once her breathing had steadied, she could no longer suppress a sigh of delight. Never had she experienced such complete euphoria! She found herself still covered in goose flesh, the sensation of Brock’s mouth blissfully lingering on hers. She wished it would never fa
de. She wished she could spend forever wrapped in his arms, his hot, moist kisses spawning revelry throughout her entire being always.
Quickly, she removed the beautiful gown—Brock’s gift to her—and hung it lovingly in the wardrobe. She began to put on the dress she had discarded earlier but then, remembering the lovely Rebecca would be dining in Thorton Manor, chose a dress slightly more mature in cut and line. It was one of Brock’s favorites, a peacock blue. He always commented her eyes looked as flashing sapphires whenever she wore it.
Glancing at the clock on her wall, she realized it was already time to go down for dinner. At the thought, her confidence began to teeter. How should she act? Could she meet Brock’s gaze without blushing now that they had shared such intimacy?
Her stomach churned nervously as she descended the stairs minutes later.
Lady Thorton and Rebecca were already seated when Maria entered the dining hall.
“Oh! You always look so delightful in that blue, Maria!” Lady Thorton exclaimed as Maria kissed her affectionately on one cheek before taking her seat at the woman’s side.
“Thank you, milady. But you flatter me so. Do not forget, I have a looking glass and can see for myself every imperfection. It is pleasing to have your compliments, all the same.”
Lady Thorton shook her head and smiled. “You have always been the perfect example of modesty,” she sighed. “I fancy you truly see yourself as plain and lacking.”
Maria shrugged. “Good evening, Rebecca,” Maria said, smiling across the table at the beauty sitting there.
“And to you, Maria,” Rebecca said.
“Wherever is Brock?” Lady Thorton wondered aloud.
Maria smiled. Lady Thorton always insisted on promptness at the dinner hour.
“You’re too impatient, Mother,” Brockton said, entering and taking his seat at the head of the table. “I had to post several important letters. They couldn’t wait, I’m afraid,” he apologized to his mother, smiling conspiratorially at Maria.
She felt herself begin to blush and quickly looked away, the blissful residual sensation of his touch causing her to break into goose flesh.
The meal was served, and all in the Thorton Manor dining hall began eating as they enjoyed light, yet pleasant conversation. Maria avoided looking at Brock often, however. She began to feel overly warm each time she did glance at him. He was forever grinning at her in a manner hinting at his possessing some secret knowledge shared by only one other person in the room—that person being herself, of course.
After a time, at the memory of being wrapped in the power of Brock’s arms and when her lips began to tingle at the thought of his remembered kiss, Maria began fanning herself with one hand.
“Are you too warm, darling?” Lady Thorton asked.
Maria abruptly stopped the motion and answered, “Um…yes. Just a bit.” She glanced to the head of the table to find Brock smiling with eyebrows raised in an amused expression.
“Really, darling?” Lady Thorton continued. “I thought it was a bit chilly in here myself. Are you feeling quite all right?”
“Oh, I think Maria feels wonderful, Mother,” Brock answered, chuckling.
Maria stared at him in amazement, her eyes widening in disbelief. Apparently, and blessedly, the other two persons at the dining table had not understood the underlying meaning of his lordship’s remark. Maria was grateful. He winked playfully at her, however, and she was undone again, rapidly fanning herself with one hand.
“Well, I hope so,” Lady Thorton remarked. Then to Rebecca, “When will your dear mother be arriving, Rebecca?”
“The day after next I’m hoping, milady. I am so very anxious to see her,” Rebecca answered.
Maria looked up nervously at Brock again only to find him still grinning mischievously at her.
Stop! she mouthed silently to him.
What? he silently mouthed in response, feigning ignorance. Maria gasped slightly as she watched Brock, then looking intently at her mouth, slowly moisten his lips with his tongue. It was a purely scandalous insinuation!
“Are we missing something, children?” Lady Thorton asked, looking from Maria to her son and then back again.
Maria dropped her gaze to her plate as she felt the crimson of a heated blush rising to her cheeks once more.
“Why, darling…you do look a bit overheated. Do not you think so, Brock?” Lady Thorton asked, concerned.
Brock looked down at his plate and answered, “Yes, I find her very warm.”
Maria gasped again, unable to fathom his outrageous comment and causing herself to choke on a bit of her food.
“My goodness!” Lady Thorton exclaimed. “I do believe you’re unwell, Maria.”
Brock chuckled lowly.
“There is nothing whatsoever amusing about this, Brockton! I tell you, Rebecca…I find it very hard to believe he is a grown man at times.” Lady Thorton sighed, patting Maria helpfully on the back.
“I am well. In truth, milady. I am well,” Maria choked, swallowing hard and clearing her throat. “Truly.”
Lady Thorton frowned. “Very well. Are you certain?”
“I think—”Brock began.
“Yes. I’m certain,” Maria interrupted, scowling severely at him.
Lady Thorton looked from her son to Maria and back to her son again. A knowing smile crossed her features. “Very well. Let us finish our meal. I am certain Rebecca thinks us most uncivilized if our behavior at the dinner hour is any indication.”
“Oh, I assure you, not at all, milady.” Looking to Maria, she added, “Mother and Lady Thorton were schoolgirls together, you know.”
Following dinner, Jacob Peterson arrived. He and Brock disappeared together. Lady Thorton retired early, leaving Maria and Rebecca alone together in the library. This was not Maria’s ideal of a pleasing after-dining activity, but there seemed little else to do but endure.
“Brock and I were playmates as children,” Rebecca continued. “We were very close then. Oh, the hours we used to spend riding together and playing mischief on our parents. I cannot believe it has been so long ago. He was handsome even as a boy. One could tell for certain, even then, he would be what he is now.”
Maria fidgeted uncomfortably. Something in the back of her mind was telling her that perhaps Rebecca’s visit was not as insignificant as it appeared to be.
“I’ve only been here for three years,” Maria said. “The family has been so wonderful to me.”
“Yes. They seem quite fond of you. And now…now you’re to have your coming-out! I’m sure you will have suitors lined up for miles outside Brock’s door!”
“I hope not,” Maria mumbled to herself.
“Oh, you mustn’t be nervous about them. It is ever so amusing to have all the young men vying for your attention!”
There was only one man on earth whose attention Maria longed for. She smiled to herself, thinking on their moments together previously that afternoon.
“See there…it does sound fun. Does it not?” Rebecca said, mistakenly reading Maria’s thoughts.
“This is far past the proper bedtime for little girls, ladies,” Brock’s voice boomed suddenly from the doorway.
Rebecca rose and, smiling, said, “I am a bit done in. Do you mind if I retire, Maria? It was a long piece to travel today.”
Maria rose as well and answered, “Of course, of course. I’m feeling fatigued myself. We can talk tomorrow.”
As Rebecca floated out of the room, she paused, kissing Brock sweetly on one cheek. “Good night, Brock dearest,” she said, smiling rather beguilingly up at him.
“Good night,” he called as she climbed the stairs.
Maria was hot with irritation. She did not like Rebecca’s infatuation with Brock, which was becoming more and more obvious.
“Will you retire as well then, Maria?” Brock asked, striding toward her.
“Yes. And by the way…your behavior was abominable at dinner, Brockton Thorton!” she scolded h
im in a whisper.
“Oh. Is that all? I was afraid you were going to scold me for my behavior in the library this afternoon,” he teased, lowering his voice.
Maria smiled and blushed. “I would never scold you for that,” she whispered. “Still, I could not believe you at dinner, Brock! How old do you claim to be anyway?” she teasingly reprimanded, moving to walk past him.
He chuckled and caught her arm. “Do you favor the gown?”
“I’ve told you…I adore the gown! Now, let’s retire. I am ever so fatigued.”
“Yes. Let’s,” he whispered, linking her arm through his own and escorting her toward the stairs.
“What do you want for your birthday, pretty lady?” he asked suddenly as they began climbing the staircase together. His touch, however simple, was the touch of heaven to her, and she caressed his forearm where her hand lay in escort.
“You’ve given me your gift already,” she said, smiling at him.
“How kind, Maria! To refer to the affair in the library this afternoon as my gift to you,” he whispered, smiling.
“Would you please stop? You are intolerable! I meant the dress, of course. And the slippers and…and the lovely string of pearls, Brock!” she sighed, pausing at the top of the stairs as she gazed lovingly up at him. “I could not have imagined such gifts…not in the world! Thank you so much, Brock…for all your beautiful and treasured gifts to me.”
“Oh, those,” he said, smiling. “You are welcome for them, naturally, pretty pet. But they were not for your birthday. Now, what do you really desire?”
The thought crossed her mind that her utmost desire would be to relive with him those precious moments in the library. However, she answered, “Oh…I cannot imagine. I have everything! What could I possibly be in need of?”
“Well, I must purchase something for you. After all, you will only be sixteen once, now won’t you? Let me think…what would you ask for? Jewels? That is really the only thing women like to receive, is it not?”
Maria exhaled dramatically. “Stop. Just stay as long as you can this time. That would be the greatest gift you could offer me.”
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