"Perhaps," she said with the delightful laugh he could never tire of. "It would be a great deal more scandalous, however."
"You did say this would be a picture of Honora. My Honora," he reminded her. He added a wicked smile, the one he noticed always made her catch her breath. It did not fail him this time either. He pressed his mouth against hers. "But I shall save that for a future portrait."
She clasped his head so he could not retreat. Not that he had any desire to do so. Her expression grew more solemn. He gave her a reassuring kiss, waiting for her to remind him they were playing a dangerous game, one that likely had no happy outcome.
"I have imagined this from our very first meeting," she said softly. "And now I discover how paltry my imagination was, though that may have been a blessing. I can barely withstand these delicious sensations now. How could I have endured them while you were not here to share them with me?"
William gathered her in his arms and rolled over until she was atop him. Her eyes widened but in the next instant she was fighting with her skirts, desperate to get them out of the way. He was busily unfastening his breeches, chiding himself for not being more patient, but too many years of wishing for this moment had made it impossible to be any other way just then.
"I would simply tear these buttons off," she said with a laugh, assisting him, "though it would cause too many questions when you have to return to polite company."
"It is the same reason I have not already ripped your dress."
He smoothed his hands along her thighs, treasuring the delicate hitch of her breath. He dared to move them higher when she let her head drop with a heartfelt sigh. His fingers caressed her, softly at first, until she began a gentle rocking against him. She took him in her hand, and her soft skin stroking his hard length was a more wonderful torment than he had ever experienced.
William tried to close his eyes but could not. He wanted to forever imprint the image of her exquisite features, and the rising passion she exhibited in so many ways.
"Honora," he breathed. He meant to say something reverent, or meaningful, anything to let her know this moment was more than an aberration. But he was rendered mute when she began to moan, increasing the rocking movement against his fingers, stroking him more intently. He halted her hand with his, and she protested with a frown.
"I would apologize," he said, "but if I do not halt you now, I will have even more to apologize for in the next moments."
She smiled and leaned forward to give him a kiss. He took the offering and then grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and setting her right atop him.
"Oh, William," she said with a sigh.
Before he could respond, she began that maddeningly wonderful movement from before, only this time he was deep inside of her, and she was watching his every expression. He knew he was revealing too many emotions. He tried to fight them off. But it proved an impossible battle. He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her toward him, needing her mouth on his. Hopefully he could keep his deep-seated feelings for her hidden for just a while longer. Until then, her pleasure was all that mattered, and he would do everything in his power to give it to her, until their time ran out at last.
***
Honora pulled back from the kiss, needing to see William's face. She was so close to coming apart. The passion swirling through every inch of her body was exquisitely unbearable. She knew she would always crave the sensations he gave her. He watched her, his expression almost reverent. She shivered, and then felt another wave of pleasure rising, this one even more intense than the previous one.
He gently rubbed his thumb against her, taking a nipple lightly between his teeth at the same time. It was as if he knew what her body needed before she could attempt to explain it. She felt a pulsing inside and she tightened her legs around him, desperate to feel him deeper. He tightened his hold about her waist, thrusting upwards, increasing the pressure on the delicious spot between her legs.
It was too much. She could feel herself start to come apart in a way she had never experienced. How could she recover from something that intense? How did her heart hope to pretend it was completely detached after this?
William somehow knew the turmoil going on inside of her. He began to croon something to her, she was not even sure what it was, but it calmed her fears and stoked her passion, all at the same time. He slowed his movements until she thought he might cease entirely.
"No! Do not stop. I could not bear it."
"Nor could I."
His soft words, along with the promise in his eyes, was her undoing. The waves of pleasure that had nearly swamped her now swept her away, with William following along an instant later.
Chapter 20
Richard poured a measure of port into William's glass. "It seems you need this, judging from the scowl on your face."
"I may need the entire bottle." William felt his frown deepening, but he could not fight it off.
"What is causing your displeasure? I know Miles and I have neglected you of late—"
"No, I understand. I completely agree with your choices, by the way. I am merely filled with envy, as well as dismay that my brief time each day with Honora may be all I am ever given."
"Why cannot that be changed? And do not give me your rote answer about her being the Dowager's companion. It is not a lifetime appointment."
William wanted to growl, but he laughed instead. "It may as well be. I cannot provide for her in a better fashion than our aunt does. And if I cannot, she must stay here, restricting our liaison to a one-hour interlude each day. Unless we are somehow found out, which would prove ruinous for her."
He tipped the glass back, and drank the liquid pensively. He could only have the means to keep them financially afloat if he agreed to the Dowager's crazy matchmaking scheme, but that would mean placing Honora in the position of "the other woman". He would never agree to that.
Richard gave him a pensive look. "How have you managed to fall so quickly? It has only been a few days' time."
"I have been enamored of Honora from a couple years previously. I heard the most delightful laugh one day while strolling through the gardens and came across her chasing after her easel and a watercolor painting that the wind had strewn about. We had a brief conversation, and I suppose I began to tumble headfirst then." He paused, remembering how quickly she had squelched her pleasure, as if she was not allowed to let it show. "The dreadful part is when I tried to duplicate that brief moment of exuberance on canvas, I discovered my talents were too paltry. I have had her in my thoughts ever since."
"Then why did you not come back to see her sooner?"
Richard's expression demonstrated just how obvious a solution he considered it to be, and by rights it should have been. Yet it was not so simple, and William was not sure he could make his cousin understand the myriad conflicting emotions this woman evoked.
"I had good reasons for staying away."
"Yes, of course," Richard said with a knowing chuckle. "Which you will take with you to the grave. You are as obscure as Miles is transparent."
"While you are both, depending on your mood. Or your motives."
"I am not sure how I got in the midst of this, when I am attempting to help you solve your dilemma."
"I shall find my way through it," William said. "But I thank you for your willingness to aid me. Especially since you have solved one of your own. How is it that you did not need the Dowager's allowance?"
Richard shrugged. "I was willing to gamble on something I wanted, and needed, more. Besides, she is so glad to see me paired off with someone respectable, a woman she truly admires, that she is likely to send us the allotment anyway."
"And if she does not?"
"It matters little. I can still do my job, and Constance will accompany me, so between the two of us, I do not worry that we will come to any harm, financial or otherwise."
William grinned at the sigh of contentment coming from his cousin. "You give me hope."
"You n
eed more than hope. You need a strategy. Fortunately, I am willing to assist you."
"There is no need—"
"Of course there is a need. You are this close to flouncing about the room at the unfairness of your situation. The debutantes are handling their disappointment with more aplomb than you are."
"Flouncing?" William narrowed his eyes as he began rolling up his sleeves. "We may need to resolve this the way we used to when we were younger."
"We need not resort to fisticuffs just yet. But hear me out." Richard's expression grew more serious, and it was easy to see his genuine concern. "You have spent the majority of your days observing life, and doing your utmost to record it. It is time for you to begin experiencing it."
William felt the anger nearly swamp him. "That is not true, not at all. You know nothing of what I am experiencing."
"I know a great deal about human nature. I exploit it on a daily basis, so I am well aware of what drives a man, and what fears hold him back."
"Is it so horrible to want to protect Honora?"
"Not at all. I commend you for that trait. I have been the beneficiary of it many times. However, you are spending a great deal of effort protecting yourself. Perhaps it is time to change that, since you are clearly unhappy continuing in that vein."
William tried to protest. He could not, however. Richard had spoken the truth. He rarely shared anything of himself with those around him. He had never wanted to before now, before Honora had arrived in his life. Now he was no longer content with representing his emotions via paint and canvas. He wanted to demonstrate precisely how he felt about her.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "It is a bit unnerving to step from behind the easel."
"I would imagine it is," Richard said, his voice sympathetic. "Yet consider the reward that awaits you."
William had merely to look at his cousin's face, filled with contentment, to know the advice was sound. He wanted Honora, and he would not let anything hold him back. Not even the Dowager.
"I suppose I should have my packed bags at the ready, for that moment when our aunt tosses me out on my ear." He grinned. "At least I can tell her I am merely following your advice, so she will toss you out too."
Richard laughed heartily. "None of us saw fit to follow her suggestions. I wonder if she considers this just one more of our youthful pranks."
"Probably. Although I did give serious consideration to her reaction, unlike when I was a child, only interested in myself."
Richard clapped a hand on William's shoulder. "See? You are maturing. No matter what anyone else may tell you."
"I am still amazed Miss Lockhart finds anything admirable about you. I may need to take her aside and give her some useful tidbits about you."
"It would do you no good. She already knows the most despicable aspects about me and still has a very tender spot in her heart where I am concerned."
William shook his head as if completely baffled. "Perhaps she merely enjoys the medical mystery you provide her."
"Perhaps," Richard said with his usual insouciance. "I will do anything I can to make her happy, though, and if that is what is required..." He eyed William once more. "So what will you do to make Mrs. Beaumont happy?"
William was not quite ready to divulge his plans. "You shall see soon enough."
Before Richard could press him for specifics, the door opened and Miles entered, beaming, as he seemed to do all the time now.
"Ah, my favorite cousins. How are you this fine day?"
Richard and William groaned at the same time.
"Surely there should be a limit on the amount of happiness expressed around here," William grumbled, though in truth he was glad to see his cousins so obviously content. It gave him a great deal of joy to tease them about it, however. He knew they would do the same for him. He hoped they would have the opportunity to do so soon.
"I know what will make me happy," Richard said, his eyes twinkling with obvious mischief. "Miles, it's been ages since you have played billiards."
"It has." He walked to where the cues were stored and picked one, hefting it to judge its weight and balance. "Which of you is in the mood for losing?"
William managed to keep a straight face, though it was difficult with Richard grinning like a madman.
"Why don't you and William go at it?" Richard said. "I have had quite enough of winning for today."
Miles's eyes lit up. "Perhaps we should place a wager on the outcome. What do you say?"
"Yes, perhaps we should." William walked around the table, ignoring Richard's gleeful expression. "What would you like to wager, Miles?"
Chapter 21
"Are you certain you do not want me to paint you today?"
It would break William's heart if Honora refused, but he would not do anything that caused her distress. He clasped her hand in his and raised it to his lips.
"I am feeling too exposed," she said.
"There is nothing more beautiful than your face at this moment. Your skin is flushed, your eyes are sparkling, and your lips are a beautiful rosy red. All because moments before you came apart in my arms. How can I not want to capture that?"
"It is becoming more difficult to conceal this liaison." She frowned, but it did nothing to mar her beauty. "While you were with your cousins drinking port last night, the Dowager inspected me with her lorgnette, determined to find the source of what she called my 'glowing appearance'."
William laughed. "It is unmistakable."
"That is precisely the problem. I managed to persuade her it was the result of some strenuous exercise. Gemma nearly coughed herself silly, which proved to be the diversion needed, thankfully."
"You have made me even more determined to paint you." He traced the outline of her lips with his finger. "So that I might have this depiction of you after your 'strenuous exercise'."
She playfully bit his fingertip. "Fine, but I wish to do the same with you."
"The painting? Or the exercise?"
"The painting," she answered, doing her best to appear stern, but a smile managed to escape. "Even though my skills are not as developed as I would like, I still would enjoy having your portrait. Something I could enjoy—"
She did not have to finish her thought. He knew precisely what she meant. Something to enjoy, in private, when their liaison was nothing but a distant memory.
"I like your plan. We shall take turns sitting for each other."
Her lips lifted in a seductive smile. "You will not be sitting for me. I have another pose in mind."
"Indeed. You are rather devilish, Mrs. Beaumont."
"And you are a scoundrel, for you are not even attempting to hide how much you enjoy when I'm devilish."
"We make quite the pair," he commented, brushing a curl away from her forehead.
"We do indeed." She murmured the words, and it seemed they were tinged with melancholy. He could not have that, not now, when they had so little time available. He remained ever hopeful, however.
"Come, we must get to work, for now we have two portraits to complete. Who shall go first?"
"You can pose for me," she said. "Remove your shirt, and toss it over your shoulder. Yes, precisely like that. Now stand here." She moved him into position, and it took all he had not to grin at her earnest endeavors. "Turn your head slightly."
He leaned down and kissed her. "Like this?"
"No."
He kissed her again, aroused by her enthusiasm for the project they were undertaking. "Like this then?"
She gave him a mock frown. "Now I can see why you have never been an artist's model before. You do not take instruction very easily."
"Oh, but I do. Remember when you asked me to touch you—"
She clapped her palm against his lips. He grinned and gave it a little nibble. "Now if you will stand here, I will be over there." She motioned behind him. "I want you to turn your head slightly, as if you have just realized I am entering the room."
"I will always know when you are en
tering a room, or sadly, when you are leaving a room."
She did not say anything, but he heard her breath catch and knew his words affected her deeply. That is one thing he adored about her. She felt emotions intensely, and even though she did not always display them, there was so much more to her than the coolly bland surface she presented to the rest of the world.
He was much the same way. Yes, they were indeed quite the pair. A matched set.
Honora moved around behind him, setting the easel where she wanted it, and getting everything prepared. He wanted to turn around to watch her, but he stayed in place exactly as she had requested.
"This is not the pose I would have expected," he commented.
"I find I am rather partial to this view." She laughed softly. "Also, it solves my inability to reproduce your nose."
He burst out laughing. "I applaud your creative solution. Though I am bereft at being unable to watch you at work."
"I have a solution for that as well." He heard her moving about again, and the next thing he knew, she was dragging something in front of him.
A cheval mirror.
"I cannot believe I did not use that earlier. We shall employ it later."
"I should pretend I do not know what you mean." Honora tilted the mirror and then moved back to her easel. "But I am quite intrigued by the notion."
"I have so many notions, we may not have time to complete our portraits."
He wished he had not reminded her of how little time they had available, and nearly recalled his words. But she smiled once more. "I may have a solution for that as well."
His eyebrows shot up with surprise. He could see her watching him in the mirror, and it was as arousing as the thoughts he had had moments ago, of both of them reflected in the looking glass...
Honora moved away from the easel, gazing at him in the mirror as she approached. His heart beat faster, and he could feel the desire rising in his body. He was ready to carry her to the chaise once more, the portrait be damned.
Before he could move, however, she placed her lips on his shoulder. He expected the tender kiss, but the gentle bite afterwards was a surprise.
Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone? Page 16