Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies)

by Pimentel, Layna

  A light of amusement flickered in Robbie’s eyes. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

  “Lord Thompson?” Isabel turned to find where he had wandered off to, but did not see him anywhere. So much for asking him to join me. Shrugging, off she went in search of what was so splendid about the gardens.

  * * * *

  Nathaniel's heart rate quickened with every step her ladyship took toward the more secluded area of the Pleasure Gardens. Blood rushed to his groin, eager to find out where she was headed. Engaging in a public flirtation like that one outside the amphitheatre earlier would not compare to the embarrassment she would soon discover if she kept walking on the path ahead.

  Would she encounter lovers moaning, completely in raptures over erotic touches and sweet words, or the suckling of a rosy bud from an exposed creamy breast? Mayhap, she would stumble into a shrub head first, finding herself propositioned to participate as a third party. Good grief, he had to stop her from continuing on any further, or at the very least, convince her to partake in their own scandalous adventure. Time to get off this main path.

  Nathaniel reached the entrance lined with ancient oak trees and hedges. What will it take to convince her that we belong together? He turned his head side to side, noting the sparseness of people occupying the park. With any luck, he would catch her before the maze.

  Proceeding along, he halted by a bench where a couple affectionately held hands, completely engaged in their own seduction, when he discovered an odd shadow opposite of them. Intrigue and his swollen cock led him on, curious to see if the shape belonged to Isabel. And if it did, what in the world she was doing?

  He closed in, quietly taking cover behind a tree. A smirk crossed his lips as he watched the woman spying on the intimately involved pair.

  There had not been a moment these last twenty-four hours when the duchess did not occupy his thoughts. He dreamt of disrobing her out of those ridiculous layers of clothing, palming those beautiful round breasts, giving them the proper attention they required. Then, he would bury his face between her silken thighs, delving into her slick folds, edging her closer and closer to ecstasy as her eventual release shook him to the core.

  Nathaniel shifted slightly to adjust the bulge in his breeches when he stepped on a twig, snapping it. The splintering wood drew the woman’s attention in his direction. Attempting to conceal his location, he moved into the shade, where he could not be found. Nevertheless, he had finally found her. The devil take it! Isabel, of all people, stood there, observing the couple lying down.

  Nathaniel approached cautiously, to avoid alarming the duchess, until he stood behind her. She turned to face him, with shock splashed across her face. He locked her wrists above her against the trunk, leaving her nowhere to escape his assault of tender kisses. Lowering his head, he nipped at her lobe and dragged his tongue down the side of her neck.

  “Darling, you do realize what you are doing is called voyeurism and is quite illegal.” He released her hands, only to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into chest. Her derrière firmly pressed against the throbbing ache of his manhood.

  “Nathaniel!” she whispered angrily. “Release me this instant, you oaf!”

  “Not on your life, Your Grace,” he quipped. “Had I known you were interested in such wicked things, I would have indulged you sooner. There are several establishments in London catering to those particular needs.

  “On the other hand, my love, I will have you know, I can attest to my skills at pleasuring women. And I can assure you with the utmost certainty there will be no need to scandalize you further into taking you in such establishments. No proper lady should be in attendance to begin with.”

  Were it not for her growling, he would take her right there. “Isabel,” he murmured. “What you have been watching so intently is beneath you. Allow me to show you, in private, what pleasure—as you observed—would be like. We would make music, love. And you, darling, would never desire another.”

  She relaxed into his body, allowing him to give pause to the moment, until she turned to face him. A flush swept across her cheeks, and her chinned dipped down, stare no longer holding his. “Nathaniel,” she stammered. “I had no idea sexual congress could be that way. Henry… Henry never applied such ministrations when bedding me.”

  Nathaniel tensed at her admission. No lady should be denied, and even though Isabel had been deprived of such pleasures by the poor excuse of her late husband, he most certainly would not abandon her in her time of need.

  “Sweeting, I need you to look at me.” He lifted her chin with two fingers until their gazes met. When those glossy blue eyes stared back, his heart broke. “My love, your husband was a coward, a sham, and far from being considered a man. The only thing honorable about him was the duel that ended his shallow existence.”

  Lord, how he wanted to take her right there. But then he would be no different than any other randy rogue, looking to flip a skirt for the sheer scandal. “Isabel, a proper gentleman always ensures his lady is well taken care of before his own release.”

  Unable to contain his desire any longer, his mouth crushed to hers. She tempted him, much to his own ire, like Odysseus’s sirens. Isabel called to him in a way so primal, nothing could stop him. Not even Poseidon, the commanding ruler of the seas.

  Somewhere along the line, she wrapped her arms around his neck, following his lead as his tongue swirled beyond her luscious lips. He lowered her with the intent to conceal themselves from other curious visitors of the gardens. Once nestled onto the carefully manicured lawn, his control vanished.

  He slipped his hand beneath her skirt, sliding it along her long, silken legs. Reaching her stays, he cupped her mound as she squealed. “Shh, darling. Let me take care of you.” Nathaniel’s fingers dipped behind the fabric, and he could not have been more delighted to find her damp.

  His intangible need to drive an explosive release from her made his cock swell to an uncomfortable level. The only thing he focused on was the beautiful vision beneath him. Her head tipped back as he rubbed her engorged nub. Her breasts threatened to burst from the confines of her corset.

  Using his free hand, Nathaniel released them. He dipped his head to take the pert, pink nipple between his teeth, gently nipping at the one before gradually moving to the other. She bucked against him.

  While taking great care not to cause her pain, he plunged his fingers into her. Tormenting her with each second passing, he brought her closer and closer to release. She trembled and squeezed around him. Ceasing his assault on her senses, he slid down her body. Kissing and caressing until his lips met the apex of her thighs, and her skirts rested over his head.

  Nathaniel continued his seduction by lapping at her folds, his fingers delving deeper. The sounds of other visitors to the gardens faded as Isabel’s moans intensified. Her muscles tensed, and her groans grew louder. His relentless focus on her core sent Isabel into release. She quivered, tensing around his hand while he indulged in her juices.

  When she finally steadied her breathing, he found himself pulling out his own member. He stroked to the image of one very sated duchess, who would soon be his in every possible way. Nathaniel closed his eyes, picturing her lips around the crest of his cock, teasing his thickness while she squeezed his tight sac. God! What you do to me…

  His heart thundered in his ears as he pumped faster and faster. She was naked and bathed in the moonlight, in the comfort of his chambers, whispering naughty things and playing with her God-given assets. If there was ever a pair of tits to be seen, hers should be modeled. An alabaster bust of envy, placed on display in his dressing room, where only he could appreciate it.

  She would play with her precious cunt, showing him what she could do to herself while thinking of him. Her tiny, delicate fingers rubbing her clit and delving them into her sticky wetness. She would then withdraw those same dangerous digits and pop them into her mouth. She would suck one by one slowly, as she did with his cock—being the relentless tease that he k
new she was.

  His body went rigid. Blindness struck him, and his breath escaped. “Isabel,” he groaned, before exploding into his palm.

  He waited for what seemed an eternity before opening his eyes, and his heart rate restored to an even beat. Damn. He had never intended to subject Isabel to a compromising situation. Nevertheless, he had enjoyed the pleasures given and could not remember the last time he had taken his own pleasure, thoroughly enjoying the vivid imagery he created.

  Surely, now Isabel would see there would never be another. He would be the only one. Not because of their indiscretion, but because of the power of their connection.

  Isabel was blushing something fierce. “Guess I need to do something about this mess,” Nathaniel declared. Before he could reach for his handkerchief, Isabel offered hers. “Thank you, love. I suppose we should get you back to your friends before they start to wonder where we have run off to.”

  Her blue eyes fixed on his, soft and glowing. He had most certainly satisfied her, but would it be enough? After helping her up, Nathaniel insisted on adjusting her bodice, but she swatted his hand away.

  While he did not know the first thing about fixing hair or gowns, his only concern was to be supportive. His expertise was unraveling those tight and stern buns women wore, until cascades of waves fell seductively around their breasts, and efficiently removing evening dresses, so pleasure would be met with expediency.

  She stood there, waiting for him to lead them out from their seclusion, but all Nathaniel desired was to undo her gown again. “Well, darling, you do realize that was only the beginning?” He took her arm and steered her back to the path, when they were met by an unwelcome face. Stiffness settling in his neck and shoulders, he released Isabel and clenched his fists at his sides.

  “Downsbury, what are you doing here?” Nathaniel pulled her ladyship behind him. “I should have known that a rat would eventually leave town.”

  The duke regarded Nathaniel with even more disdain than the previous day. “I assure you, Lord Stoughton, I came to take some air and get away from the tedium of daily duties. What I did not expect was Brimley’s widow to be here of all places…much less with you. I hope the risk was worth it, Your Grace.” He smirked. “Your Grace, My Lord, excuse me. I have business to attend to.”

  Before Nathaniel could reply, the duke rushed off to speak with a gentleman leaving the park. He turned to Isabel. “I do not trust the man. He is up to something. Let us go. I will return you to Mr. and Miss Turner, and we will depart shortly after that for Bath.”

  Chapter Three

  Isabel tucked her arm into the warmth of her escort’s. Both she and Nathaniel quietly walked toward the amphitheatre without as much as a word spoken. While the consequences of their actions flitted through her head, tension pulled at her neck. Perfect! Not only do I have to worry about our reputation. But I could certainly do without this pain, and the grumbling of my belly.

  The afternoon sun, while not entirely at its peak, managed to impair her vision. Her head throbbed as if a mallet had fallen upon her tousled locks. Perhaps Nathaniel was just as worried as her about what the duke might have seen. Or is he disappointed with me in some way?

  If Downsbury played witness to their indecent behavior, would he sell the story to the gossip column of the daily? Or would he use it to blackmail her further? The mere thought made her flush. She stumbled onto the lush lawn face down, wishing to die an instantaneous death.

  “Darling, are you all right? Are you hurt?” Nathaniel asked as he crouched down to take her hands into his.

  Heat seared her cheeks. Sickness settled deep within her belly. What in damnation is wrong with me? More embarrassed than anything, she pulled away, lifting herself from the ground. She straightened her skirt, still feeling faint.

  Isabel wavered, her body temperature rising to an increasingly uncomfortable level. Nathaniel’s reputation in the House of Lords would be tarnished irreparably if such a scandal were announced. Moreover, should the duke proceed with his claims in a court of law, and the justice ruled in his favor, she would be turned out into the street. She couldn’t let this go on any further.

  Before she could even utter a word, Isabel’s reality faded. Leaden, she sank uncontrollably into the marquess’ waiting arms. Providence have mercy on me. “We’re both ruined,” she muttered as darkness closed in.

  When she regained consciousness, she felt herself being carried and laid upon a bench. Opening her eyes, she saw a crowd forming behind Nathaniel. Isabel sat up slowly, fanning herself, when she overheard the whispers.

  “Maybe she is with child?”

  “Her husband has not even been cold in the grave for a year!”

  “How scandalous!”

  Nathaniel turned around to face the gathering, “A little privacy, if you may!” The group disbanded swiftly, and he returned his attention back to her. “My darling, what hurts? Shall I summon my physician?”

  Isabel shook her head then lowered her eyelids and smiled. She relaxed, releasing a shallow sigh, remembering the time she had tripped down the hill attempting to meet with him in secrecy years before.

  He had run to where she had fallen, taken off her walking boots to examine her ankles, and then placed a kissed gingerly on each. The memory warmed her, and she giggled. “Nathaniel, do you remember that time on the hill?”

  He stared at her as if trying to comprehend what she was asking. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned. “Madam, have you lost your wits? When did you last eat?”

  Humph. Is he deliberately avoiding my question? Isabel turned her head in an attempt to ignore him when she felt his hand brush again her knee.

  “Yes, I remember the hill, my dear. I also remember those delectable ankles of yours. The question is, when will I see them again?”

  Breathless and hopelessly eager to answer, Isabel returned her gaze to his. He must be mad. To imply that we will… It is impossible. “To answer your first question, Nathaniel, the last time I ate was at breakfast. I could use a spot of tea, maybe a sandwich. As for your second inquiry, I really do not think we should continue.”

  “Very well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We will walk across the lawn to there.” He pointed in the direction of the tea house near the entrance to Vauxhall. “From there, we will find the others. And I will still escort you to Bath. We could use the time in my carriage to clarify a few things.”

  “What could we possibly have to clarify, My Lord? After our indiscretion in the park, we should avoid being together for a while.”

  “Not bloody likely. If you think for one moment I will abandon you when the haute ton has a field day at your expense, you are wrong. Now come along and let us find Mr. and Miss Turner.”

  * * * *

  Nathaniel could not believe his ears. Did she honestly think she could be rid of him so fast? No. Not on his life, his honor, his family’s name. She would be his bride. And the sooner the better. His lack of propriety had led them down this path, and she tempted him every moment of the day. How could he not stake his claim? He never anticipated the duke would go to such lengths to tarnish Isabel’s reputation. But he would deal with Downsbury soon enough.

  After they reached Bath and retired for the evening, he would send a note to his secretary with detailed instructions on how to proceed. Nathaniel needed to know how much money the duke was after, and if there was any chance he would be awarded what he claimed.

  From the safety of Bath, he would be free to orchestrate a plan to remove Downsbury from his shadow. Considering the duke’s neglected wife played a role in this debacle, he would not be surprised to discover just how mismatched the two were. That alone would be sufficient in resolving any blackmail Downsbury was plotting. Both would pay dearly for turning his beloved Isabel’s life topsy turvy.

  In the meanwhile, only Isabel’s safety, reputation, and health mattered. The sojourn to Bath would benefit them both. Perhaps he might even convince her marrying him would help alleviate some
of this mischief.

  Yet, something still nagged at him, at how wrong he could have underestimated this state of affairs. For all anyone knew, Brimley could have instigated this state of affairs, knowing all too well what it would do to his dowager duchess. Such cruel intent would mean there were other troubles—financial woes—the staff did not know about. Had Griffith paid their wages regularly? Had suspicious characters visited their townhouse in recent weeks?

  So many questions crossed his mind, and time was limited. He would investigate as soon as he returned, but for now there was no use in jumping to conclusions.

  * * * *

  Once seated comfortably in his carriage, Nathaniel reached for a blanket and tucked it around her ladyship. The simple sandwich and tea may have restored her senses for the time being, but he did not want to take any more chances. “Drive on!” he shouted.

  He moved to sit next to her. She had closed her eyes and leaned into the side uncomfortably. Taking care to not wake her, he shifted her position to rest on his shoulder. The long silence while she slept gave him the opportunity to rehearse in his head how he would propose to her. However, an unsettling feeling that they were being followed nagged at him.

  Nathaniel twisted his body to push the drape away from the window, which was currently concealing them, and did not spy anything suspicious. Only lone riders and the horses traveling at a normal speed behind them. Even so, the feeling lingered, making him wonder just how desperate Downsbury was to gain what he wanted, and why he would want to bring down Isabel so badly.

  If the law granted Downsbury restitution, the woman could easily find herself homeless and without a cent to her name. He loved her—had even worshiped the ground she walked on when they were younger. Now, she faced a scandal so large that he wanted to shield her from the possible cruelties she could encounter.

  Moreover, his body ached to join with hers. To be finally reunited with you, my love. Absolutely no one will come between us this time.