"Perhaps you should train your mind to have both."
Gemma raised her eyebrows. "Miles and the stipend? How is that possible?"
Honora shrugged, her lips tilted up playfully. "I am confident you shall discover some way."
"I wish I felt the same confidence." She sighed, watching the debutantes giggling and chattering, completely unconcerned about anything important. She had been the same once. "I envy them, with nothing of consequence to fret about, having their entire lives ahead of them."
"You act as though you are the same age as the Dowager."
That gave her pause. "But you must admit life changed once you became a widow. I had hoped this might be an opportunity to restart my life. Now I wonder if it is a delusion."
"I cannot deny that widowhood changed the future I had imagined for myself." She gazed away for a few moments, and Gemma felt a moment's anguish at decrying her current existence when Honora's was a great deal more challenging.
"I had anticipated I would be the Dowager's age when I donned widow's weeds," Gemma admitted. "My father has grown so fearful of my safety, after my husband died unexpectedly, I have less freedom than when I was a debutante."
"I am grateful the Dowager took me in, when no one else would." Honora's expression was definitely wistful. "Yet I must confess I crave freedom too."
"What a sad pair we are," Gemma teased. "Perhaps we should warn the young misses away before they end up like us, bemoaning our lost youth."
Honora laughed. "It is not our lost youth we are grieving. It is our hopes for the future." She pinned Gemma with her solemn gaze. "You have a choice to make. Enjoy the man who is here before you, or spend the rest of your days reading about his exploits in the scandal sheets."
"Such great advice. Will you choose to follow it yourself? It is obvious you and Mr. Travers are increasingly attracted to each other."
"I have done everything possible to keep it from being obvious. For at least two years." She smiled. "But if my situation were different..."
"Two years? I envy your fortitude. And my curiosity cannot be contained. Tell me how this attraction started."
Honora gazed off into the distance, a bemused expression softening her features. "I was attempting to do a watercolor scene, near the pond, and it was rather dreadful."
Gemma tsked. "I cannot believe that was the case."
"No, it was, and I had decided to give up on it for the day. The Dowager has always been generous, allowing me time each day to myself. Anyway, I had just begun to pack up my easel and paints when a gust of wind came through, knocking it all to the ground. It nearly swept my bonnet off as well."
"Oh no!"
"I burst out laughing, and began chasing everything, but the painting kept dancing out of my reach. Just then, Mr. Travers came up, offering to help. I was quite spellbound." Her cheeks pinkened. "So dashing, and that disarming smile, and of course his disreputably long hair."
They both sighed at the physical perfection Mr. Travers presented. "He is indeed a handsome specimen."
Honora laughed again, and Gemma realized how little the woman did it while in the company of others. It was gratifying she felt comfortable enough to do it with her.
"He chased after my silly little painting, as if it were a masterpiece, but it blew right into the pond. He retrieved it and returned it to me, and it was dripping wet. His expression was mournful, although I hastened to reassure him it was a much better painting now than when I had finished it."
Gemma laughed. "You are delightful. No wonder he is enamored of you."
"I will admit that he shows some interest. But I think enamored goes too far." She sighed. "Not that it matters, for I cannot risk my position with the Dowager. I have no other livelihood."
"Perhaps a discreet liaison? I am too much of a romantic to see you not enjoy the perks of widowhood with a handsome man who can scarce hide his interest."
"Perhaps." Honora grinned, and Gemma found it impossible not to join her. "Once I see how it turns out for you."
"You are too cruel!" Gemma reached her hand into the pool and swept her arm up, splashing the young woman quite thoroughly.
Honora appeared shocked for a brief moment, and then she laughed, bending down to fill both hands with water and tossing it at Gemma. In the next instant they were chasing each other, drenching and being drenched, making Gemma completely forget the dilemma known as Miles Colborne.
***
Miles blinked, and then rubbed at his eyes. A mirage? At his aunt's country estate? He turned to look at Richard and William, and their avid interest confirmed he was not suffering from a brain fever.
There were indeed two ladies splashing each other in the shallow pool, their delighted laughter carrying throughout the area. Miles had never seen such an amazing display of joy—the women were so demure all the time—what a liberating experience it must be, and Gemma was the one providing it.
He now understood why Ulysses had tied himself to the mast of his ship while sailing near the Sirens. He might be forced to do the same, since Gemma was completely irresistible, drawing him in despite his best efforts.
"Please tell me our aunt is not frolicking amongst them," Richard said, making them all laugh.
"I suspect she did more than her fair share of frolicking in her day," Miles added, "based on her unbridled interest in scandalous activities."
William nodded. "I had not thought of it that way. Though I doubt she devised this particular entertainment."
"We should not be watching," Miles said. He was transfixed at the sight of Gemma's dampened dress, the sheer muslin clinging to her curves. Nor could he tear his gaze away from her obvious joy in the simple act of splashing water at his aunt's companion.
"No, we should not," William agreed, not moving from his perfect vantage point.
"I merely want to ensure they are safe," Miles added. "And that they are not disturbed."
"I agree."
Richard chuckled. "I shall leave the two of you to enjoy the spectacle. As for me," he coughed, almost convincingly, "I must see if the doctor has anything for this damned cough. I do not want it developing into something serious."
"You?" William snorted. "Serious?"
Richard merely grinned and waved them away as he set off for the doctor's cottage.
"He is not whistling, is he?" Miles asked.
"I believe he is."
They did not give him another thought, for the ladies had begun splashing each other in earnest again. How could they possibly hope to look away? If only it were possible to join them...
"I agree," William murmured. "The heat is almost unbearable here."
Miles laughed. "Truly, for now I am muttering aloud when I believe I am only speaking to myself."
"Your interest in Mrs. Seton is quite obvious, much as you want to believe otherwise."
"The Dowager will not approve. Gemma is charged with finding someone suitable for me amongst the misses in attendance."
"Naturally you found a way to thwart her schemes."
"Not intentionally," Miles protested with a laugh. "But there is no doubt that Gemma is the most delightful woman at this gathering."
"I would have to disagree, though she is quite charming."
William's gaze was pinned on their aunt's companion, his lips lifted in a smile. To Miles's surprise, the normally reserved woman was splashing Gemma and laughing as if they were compatriots in a battle to rule the waves. Gemma seemed to be visibly overflowing with happiness at all times. Mrs. Beaumont's glee was rarely expressed, making it even more remarkable when it was.
"It would be unseemly if we tarried much longer," Miles said reluctantly.
"I suppose you are correct."
His voice didn't seem particularly convincing. Miles wondered what sort of portrait his cousin was contemplating just then. Before he could ask, there was a loud whoop from Gemma, followed by a torrent of splashes between the two young women.
Gemma was completely drenched, h
er head tilted back with laughter. Her clothing clung to her body, leaving very little to the imagination—and his had been working overtime from the first instance he had encountered her.
Once more Miles was completely thunderstruck by the unpredictably delightful Gemma Seton. He was beginning to suspect he always would be.
Which made it exceedingly difficult to be heroic, since it required he push aside his selfish desires and ensure she found the happiness she sought—and that could only happen once she found another woman to be his match.
He nudged that unwelcome thought aside. Instead, he gave William a grin. "It seems these fair maidens are in need of rescue."
William laughed, and set off down the hill towards the pool, Miles hurrying to catch up.
***
Gemma did her best to leave the pool, trying to head toward the tented area, but her skirts were reluctant to cooperate. She bent and gathered them up again, wringing out the water as best she could, and then began her slow trek to the seating area.
Honora chuckled as she walked beside her. "You are gathering glances that are half-scandalized and half-admiring."
"I am not surprised," Gemma said. "I seem to inspire that reaction most of the time."
All of a sudden there was a round of gasps, followed by giggles as the entire group of misses scurried to find shelter under the tents.
Gemma turned to see what had caused their reaction—and her stomach dropped to her toes. Miles was heading her direction, a very satisfied smile on his lips. She shivered, realizing just how exposed she was to him.
And to his cousin, who was following close by. Though, to be fair, his eyes were pinned on Honora.
The glances they were receiving from the two gentlemen were not at all scandalized. They were most definitely admiring.
"We should probably return to the house, to change, before the Dowager awakens from her nap and turns me out for causing a scandal at her party."
Honora chuckled. "She adores you, so you have nothing to fear from her. In truth, she is more likely to join us than scold us."
"Which would completely scandalize her nephews."
By then the nephews in question had arrived. Miles was grinning when he said, "I suppose I do not want to know what might scandalize us."
Gemma shared a conspiratorial grin with Honora. "It is probably best if you do not."
Before Miles could reply, he had removed his coat and draped it around Gemma's shoulders. He murmured something about it being a shame to cover such magnificence, but she pretended she did not hear him.
William instantly did the same for Honora, and then they were walking together towards the house, leaving Gemma alone with Miles.
Alone, that is, except for a score of young misses watching their every move.
"I must see to changing into dry clothing," Gemma said. "I will be happy to return your coat when I am done."
"Please, allow me to accompany you."
"There is no need," Gemma protested, even though she wanted nothing more than to continue in his company.
"Perhaps not, but it would prove rather enjoyable for me."
"Then I would be delighted." When he held his arm out, she took it, albeit reluctantly. "I do not wish to dampen your shirt."
"It is nothing." He glanced over his shoulder. "In truth, I am a bit envious that you were able to cool down in the water. Perhaps I should do the same..."
"You would set off a riot if you did. Every young woman is watching you avidly at this moment."
He shrugged, but his lips lifted in a smile that made her knees feel a bit wobbly. "Then I shall refrain. For I find I am only interested in one young woman watching me avidly."
Gemma gulped. His words made her feel even more exposed than she already was, and she had to gather her wits to continue carrying on their conversation.
Fortunately it was not long before they had reached her bedchamber. She removed his coat, reluctantly, and handed it to him.
"I apologize for it being damp," she began, until she realized she had just bared herself completely without the covering his coat had provided. Where had her wits gone? It seemed they fled instantly whenever Miles was in the vicinity.
"I can think of nothing you need apologize for." His eyes twinkled, not only with mischief, but with something a bit harder for Gemma to resist: desire.
Her conversation with Honora rattled through her brain. Why must she continue to resist him? She was no debutante seeking a good marriage. There would be no real scandal attached to having a short liaison with him. She could still find him a suitable match, though the thought entirely displeased her.
She quickly glanced down the corridor, and seeing no one about, leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. He pulled her close against his body, clearly not caring if his clothes ended up damp. His kisses the night before had been deliciously exciting, but these held promises of even more pleasure. She thought of what this man could do, the passion he could incite, and it made her shiver.
"How thoughtless of me," Miles apologized. "You must go, so you do not catch a chill."
She laughed. "That is not at all likely. I feel as though I have stumbled headfirst into a fire. One that means to consume me."
His eyes widened, and there was no mistaking his interest. Nor was there a chance she would hesitate to grab the opportunity presented to her. Perhaps it was folly, but at this moment, she could think of no sensible reason to remain logical. There would be plenty of time for that later.
She opened the door and slowly walked backward into the bedchamber, her gaze pinned on Miles, silently inviting him to join her.
Chapter 6
Miles told himself to decline Gemma's unspoken request, but even though it was good counsel, he refused to heed it. He was intent on following this bewitching beauty who drew him into her bedchamber. He had enough sense to close the door behind him, before anyone could see them together like this, but it was likely the last bit of logic he would put to use for quite some time.
He was besotted with this woman. He wanted her in that moment more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life. He had begun to suspect he would never grow tired of her, a possibility he had not ever contemplated before.
"Gemma," he murmured. Her lips lifted in a smile that he found so seductive, perhaps because it was filled with promises of mischief.
She stopped in the middle of the room, and then reached for his coat, which he still held in one hand. She tossed it onto a nearby chair. "My apologies to your valet," she said with a grin. "But we do not need that at present."
"No, we do not."
"Nor do we have need of this."
She reached for his waistcoat, but he grabbed her hands, covering them with his own, as if they were in prayer. Her head tilted to one side while she regarded him.
"Has my boldness shocked you?" she asked.
"It has delighted me, and aroused me to an almost unbearable level."
"Then why are we waiting? I want to see what happens when it truly is unbearable."
He chuckled. "I do not wish to reside there alone."
"You will not be there alone."
She had no doubt noticed his avid gaze on her visibly tightened nipple, for in the next instant, she took his hand and placed it atop her breast. The muslin was still damp, and incredibly sheer, hiding yet exposing her in such an erotic fashion. He had planned another lighthearted bit of banter, but the feel of her was so pleasurable, and the sound of her breath slowly releasing was so intoxicating...
He decided his lips should do something more than speak just then. He leaned down until his mouth was hovering just over her taut nipple and then lightly bit it through the fabric. Her sigh turned into a most delectable moan. She gripped his hair, tugging to let him know he should continue his ministrations. How could he not oblige? He wrapped his arm around her waist, and then used his other hand to tug the fabric away from her skin, revealing a rosy-pink morsel he had no hope of resisting.
He gave it every bit of his attention, worshipping it, biting it with a savage tenderness, sucking it more intensely when her moans increased.
Her hands became a bit more frantic, tugging at his clothing, but with little success. Miles stopped for the briefest of moments, just long enough to remove the waistcoat and the linen shirt underneath, tossing both atop the coat Gemma had earlier thrown aside. When he turned back to face her, she was smiling as if he had unearthed a treasure just for her.
He became impatient to see more of her. Even though her dampened dress was quite revealing, it still managed to obscure many delectable parts, and his patience was beginning to fray.
Especially with her hands smoothing over every inch of his bare chest. She shivered and he was not certain if it was from anticipation, or her drenched clothing.
"You have caught a chill," he said.
"I have never been more heated in my life," she answered. She began to tug the rest of her bodice out of the way, but somehow her arm became tangled in the sleeve, and she could not move.
She glanced up at him with dismay and then burst out laughing. Miles laughed, too. He had never found himself in such a situation, and it was even more enticing than he could have believed.
"Allow me to rescue you once more."
"I may need you to follow me about on a daily basis," she said with a laugh, "to ensure I am not at the mercy of my attire."
He kissed her bare shoulder, and then trailed a few more kisses down her exposed arm. "I am more than willing to take on such a delightful task."
He gently eased her arm from the sleeve, and then turned her slowly so he could unfasten the back of her dress. He nuzzled her neck, gratified at the sounds it elicited. He could not resist lavishing kisses along every inch of her skin, which was heated by their lovemaking, and her recent frolic in the sun.
"Gemma," he marveled. He was eager to become entangled with her, to feel her body wrapped tightly around him while he made her come apart in his arms. His emotions were becoming a tangle, though. He pressed another kiss to her shoulder and paused. Would he be able to walk away from her when this was over? Or should he leave now before he found himself falling even more for this enchanting woman?
Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone? Page 5