The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy)

by Linda Rae Sande

  “Very well, my lady,” he finally answered, reluctantly taking his leave of the parlor.

  Evangeline watched him go, thinking he would probably hover outside the open door until Jeffrey left the house. Turning her attention back to the baron, she found him gazing at her in a most peculiar way. “What is it, Lord Sommers?” she asked as she lifted the tea pot and poured herself a cup.

  Jeffrey stood holding his glass of scotch, wondering how he was going to respond to her query. “You’re nothing like Geraldine, are you?” he finally replied.

  About to pour the milk into her tea cup, Evangeline paused and stared at the baron. “I ... I should hope not,” she replied, wondering if she should feel offended. He’d made the comment as if he had thought she were. Perhaps he had before now. But why would he think her so shallow? So insecure that she would feel the need to do the things Geraldine did in her attempts to land a husband?

  Evangeline shook her head as if to clear it, deciding she didn’t wish to dwell on the subject. Setting down the milk pitcher, she added a lump of sugar and nervously stirred her tea. Jeffrey was still staring at her, though, his expression unreadable. “I cannot believe Lord Ballantine is finding it difficult to secure a suitable wife,” Evangeline commented as she lowered herself onto the settee. She’d had a footman move the small couch so light from a nearby window would illuminate a book whilst she read during the day. The position of the furniture meant they were seated with their backs to the door, but Evangeline had found the rearrangement more comfortable for conversation when Lady Samantha paid a call earlier that afternoon.

  “What makes you say that?” Jeffrey wondered as he moved toward the settee. The Story of a Baron, its pages already opened to where they had left off earlier that morning in Grosvenor Square, lay on the low table in front of her. The page was marked with a rather elaborate bookmark. “That’s a rather interesting piece of art,” he remarked as he indicated the bookmark.

  “Father made it for Mother when he was courting her,” Evangeline explained, indicating the bookmark. “But he didn’t seem to realize that adding these gemstones would leave impressions in the pages if you actually closed the book with it inside,” she added as she indicated the swirls of colored stones that created a floral pattern atop the flat metal strip. At the very apex of the metal strip, where the bookmark extended beyond the top of the pages, the gemstones were larger and made up the shape of a single tulip.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jeffrey commented. “Was your father a jeweler? When he wasn’t an earl, I mean,” he clarified, hoping she wouldn’t think his question offensive to her father’s position as a peer of the realm.

  Evangeline nodded. “He was. Or rather, he would have been if he hadn’t been the heir to the Everly earldom. He loved working with silver and gold,” she said with a shrug.

  Jeffrey furrowed his brows. “If your father was so interested in jewelry ...”

  “Metallurgy,” Evangeline interrupted. “He was really more interested in metals and how they could be shaped and bent and curled. But Society is far more tolerant of a jeweler than a metallurgist,” she said with an arched eyebrow. “As was my mother, I suppose.” This last was said with a wan smile.

  Nodding his understanding, Jeffrey considered the late earl’s hobby for a moment. “Then, from where did your brother get his fascination with flora and fauna and ... exploration?” he wondered, his curiosity apparent in how he regarded his hostess.

  Evangeline considered the question for a long time before she finally shrugged. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “He’s always been more comfortable out of doors,” she added with a shake of her head. “Catching flutterbies and fire flies and snakes and all manner of small animals. Made for a rather entertaining childhood for me, although I admit I did not care for the snakes.”

  “I should think not!” Jeffrey said quite firmly. “You could have been poisoned!” This last was said with such alarm that Evangeline moved a hand to her breast and leaned back a bit.

  “Oh, I rather doubt it,” she replied then, suddenly hoping she hadn’t underestimated the snakes her brother collected. “They were common snakes the gardeners would find whilst they scythed the lawn,” she added with a grin. “But I appreciate your concern for my welfare.”

  Jeffrey nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. He pointed at the book. “I take it you are as curious as I am?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

  Evangeline grinned. “I cannot tell you how tempted I was to read ahead,” she admitted as she patted the cushion next to where she sat.

  Jeffrey took the seat next to her, careful to keep his thigh away from hers. “So, you didn’t give into temptation?” he wondered as he waved at the book, noting it was open to where they had left off earlier that day.

  Grinning, Evangeline shook her head. “I have steadfastly avoided this room since I returned home this morning,” she claimed as she leaned over to get the book. Using his left hand, Jeffrey caught the edge of the front cover and helped in lifting the tome onto his thigh.

  “I do not care for snakes, so please believe me when I say that I shall never expose you to such an abomination,” Jeffrey stated suddenly, for no other reason than to ensure she understood he meant her no harm. Ever.

  Evangeline blinked before giving him a brilliant smile. “I believe you, my lord,” she replied with a wink.

  A wink!

  Jeffrey stilled himself, goose bumps making their way over his entire body. Did the woman have any idea what her simple gesture had done to his sense of self? To his sense of well-being?

  Perhaps she merely had something in her eye.

  Or was she flirting?

  God, I can only hope, he thought before he realized Evangeline had already started reading.

  Jeffrey quickly turned his attention to the page below and started reading the next chapter in The Story of a Baron.

  Christ! Did I really write this drivel? he wondered as he tried to remember writing the scene in which the heroine, Geraldine Porterhouse, flirted with Lord Ballantine as he drove her to the birthday party for Viscountess Barrick. She is shameless, he thought, wondering how he could have written a female character who would behave as Geraldine did – unlike any other gently bred woman. The chit would end up a spinster if she continued to act as she did, and yet, he knew first hand that she would end up happily married to the baron.

  She had to. He had written the scene in which she declared her undying love for Ballantine. Had written the scene in which they promised they would remain together forever.

  Forever.

  What was I thinking? he wondered suddenly.

  I was thinking of Lady Evangeline, he answered himself. Imagining how she would behave given her brother’s extended absences from London, her freedom from his rebukes allowing her to entertain guests at all hours in her home and pay calls on any man who showed her the least bit of attention.

  Jeffrey shook himself. Lady Evangeline did no such thing! She was nothing like Geraldine. She would never pay calls on an unmarried man at midnight, even if he wanted her to. And, at the moment, he could think of no more welcome caller than Evangeline Tennison. At any time of the day or night.

  “Are you finished with this page?” Evangeline whispered as her forefinger moved to turn the page.

  Not having read a single word of the pages spread below him, Jeffrey inhaled sharply. “Yes,” he lied, and then watched as her slender finger lifted the paper and slowly flipped it to his side of the book so that the next spread lay before them.

  A quick glance at the top line reminded him where they were in the story. Jesus! At any moment, she would be reading about the baron’s sexual fantasies regarding Geraldine! About how Ballantine imagined she looked without her walking gown covering her generous bosom. Of how she looked with her stays and her petticoats removed from her body
. Of how she looked wearing only her stockings and her dance slippers, one leg slightly in front of the other in an attempt to hide the dark curls at the top of her thighs. Of her pert breasts swollen and ready for his tongue and teeth to claim her. Of how she would inhale sharply but allow him all the liberties Jeffrey had ever dreamed of taking with Lady Evangeline.

  I am going to hell!

  “I rather doubt that,” Evangeline whispered, patting the hand that rested on the edge of the book.

  Christ! Had he really just said that last bit out loud? He must have, for what other reason would Evangeline have to make such a comment?

  “Thank you,” he whispered, turning his head so his nose was just grazing her coiffure. The scent of lilies and honeysuckle had him inhaling slowly. Did she have any idea how good she smelled? Of how intoxicating her very presence could be?

  When her head suddenly rested against his shoulder, his heart nearly stopped.

  She knows!

  Jeffrey allowed a smile and then dropped his head back until it rested on the edge of the settee. Given the silence in the parlor, he was suddenly aware of the slight sound coming from Evangeline. Her chest rose and fell with her even breaths, warmth emanating from where her body was pressed against his own.

  She’s sleeping, he realized suddenly. How dare she ...?

  He stilled himself. She was sleeping. She was sleeping with her head resting against his shoulder. How could she fall asleep in the part of the story where Geraldine realizes she doesn’t just want the lowly baron because she needs a husband but because she realizes she’s rather fond of him – that she might be in love with him? How could she not be enthralled enough to remain alert and awake to find out what happens next? he wondered.

  How could she simply fall asleep?

  Because she is tired, he chided himself. Because she feels comfortable enough to do so? Because I am here and she knows I won’t take liberties with her?

  Jeffrey sighed, deciding he rather liked how Evangeline would trust him enough to simply fall asleep on his arm. Smiling, Jeffrey leaned his head over so his cheek rested on top of her head. Inhaling slowly, he reveled in her floral scent and in the calming effect her very presence had on him.

  Within moments, Jeffrey, too, was sound asleep.

  Jones stood on the threshold of the parlor, his attention directed on the back of the settee. On the two heads that seemed to be resting, one on the other. On the silence that filled the Rosemount House parlor. He had already tamped down a sense of panic, realizing the two weren’t kissing one another. And he had already decided not to storm the parlor in an effort to scare the bejesus out of the visiting baron so he might never darken the door of Rosemount House again. But he realized he could not simply stand on the threshold and do nothing as his master’s sister sat with a male caller in the parlor. At nine-twenty at night!

  Or, perhaps he could. Neither one of them seemed to be doing ... anything. In fact, from the quiet in the room, he thought perhaps they were either very engrossed in the book they were supposed to be reading, or they were ...

  Asleep.

  He watched as the baron’s head slowly listed to his left until it rested atop Lady Evangeline’s head. After another moment, the telling sounds of a soft snore made their way to his hearing.

  Christ!

  Now what would he do? The two were sleeping together in the parlor!

  Although, they were doing so rather innocently, he had to admit to himself. Perhaps the book they were reading was boring. Perhaps they were both very tired and simply fell asleep. The parlor was rather cozy this time of night, the fire still crackling in the fireplace and the overhead chandelier illuminating only the settee, leaving most of the library in darkness.

  Jones took note of the single chair that had been placed just inside the door. Duty required him to keep an eye on the chit and her visitor. He could do so if he took a seat in the parlor. If they did not wake up of their own accord within a half-hour, he would wake them and encourage the baron to take his leave of the house. Glancing down the hallway in both directions, Jones stepped into the parlor and took a seat in the nearby chair.

  Within minutes, he, too, was sound asleep.

  Jeffrey was enjoying his rather vivid dream, one in which the love of his life had fallen asleep in his arms, when he was suddenly aware of an intruder.

  A competitor for the hand of Lady Evangeline? he wondered, girding his loins for battle. Or just an interloper? Someone who took interest in the carnal activities of the ton, perhaps? Or a passerby?

  He concentrated on the sounds in the room, frowning when he realized the oddest sound was one of snoring. Could Lady Evangeline be capable of such a rumble? he wondered, slowly opening his eyes. She was still leaning against him, although now her head was nestled into the small of his shoulder. Her body barely moved with each breath she took, which meant she couldn’t be the source of the violent breathing that filled the room.

  Someone else was in the parlor!

  Certainly the fish couldn’t make such a racket. He knew their was a tank somewhere in the house, but it wasn’t in this room; the only fish he knew of in Rosemount House were in a tank in the library, and he rather doubted theirs snores could be heard here in the parlor! If fish even snored, he considered for a moment before realizing the thought was simply ridiculous.

  So, who could be sleeping with them?

  My one opportunity to sleep with Lady Evangeline and someone else has the audacity to join us!

  He took a tentative look to his right, relieved when he realized no one else was on the settee with them. There certainly wasn’t room for another person on the petite couch. He made a careful glance to the left, ensuring no one was on the other side of Lady Evangeline. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the source of the offending sound and realized it came from behind them.

  Careful not to jostle Evangeline’s head too much, he dared a glance behind him and frowned at the sight of the butler sitting just inside the parlor door.

  Damnation! When had Jones joined them? And how long had he been asleep?

  Perhaps his heart rate had increased suddenly, or perhaps he had moved too much, but Lady Evangeline suddenly stirred, one hand moving up his chest in the process. The delicate set of long, slender fingers came to rest in the folds of his cravat.

  Jeffrey closed his eyes. A few more inches and they might have landed on his lips, where he would have drawn each one into his mouth with his lips and suckled them one by one in the order they appeared on her hand. The thought had his nether regions suddenly responding, his cock hardening until it strained against the placket of his breeches.

  He forced himself to take a deep breath, which seemed to cause Evangeline’s hand to fall from his cravat and onto the bulge in his breeches.

  His sudden inhalation of breath had Evangeline’s head angling up a bit.

  Jeffrey dared a glance down. Evangeline’s face lay against his shoulder, her lips slightly parted and her eyes still closed. Below, her hand rested on his manhood, apparently unaware of the pounding pulse her simple move had incited.

  I could kiss her right now, he thought, his pulse nearly doubling in only a few seconds.

  I cannot, he reasoned with himself. I cannot take advantage of her innocence ...

  “Kiss me,” he heard in a distant whisper.

  Startled, Jeffrey stared down at Evangeline, wondering if she had been the one to invite a kiss.

  “Of course, my lady,” he whispered before capturing her lips in a simple caress with his own lips.

  Jeffrey closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her lips against his own. Like velvet and satin and my favorite whiskey, he thought before he finally released her willing mouth. Her head remained firmly pressed into the small of his shoulder, a small smile apparently approving what he had done
.

  “Kiss me back,” he whispered, wondering if she would even hear his plea. The hand that pressed against his swollen manhood was now squeezing gently through the fabric of the breeches, the fingers slightly curled around his hardening cock in a manner that would send him into ecstasy if she continued her erotic movements much longer.

  Jeffrey allowed his head to rest on the back of the settee, his breaths coming faster as her ministrations coaxed him closer to orgasm. Her lips suddenly captured his neck just above his cravat, nipping the skin in a gentle love bite that had him gasping. He moved his lips to hers, taking ownership of the firm, velvet flesh at the same time her fingers suddenly squeezed even harder around his erection. Not expecting the move, Jeffrey broke off the kiss when his manhood suddenly reacted and he was forced to take a deep breath.

  God, it had been ages since he’d had such a release, such a quiet, powerful and satisfying orgasm that left him blind but for the stars that seemed to appear behind his eyelids. He had to bite back the groan he was about to allow; somewhere, someone else was in the room, and he dare not let them know that Lady Evangeline had been the cause of such a miracle. Jesus, did the chit even know what she had managed to accomplish in her sleep? he wondered as he barely opened one eye. She still seemed to be asleep against his shoulder, her lips still parted as if she thought he might kiss her again.

  He did so, his light touch bringing her alive. His hand released its hold on the edge of the book and moved to her body, gliding up the soft sprigged muslin fabric until it reached the underside of one breast. Although the mound didn’t completely fill his palm as it moved over the top of it, the fact that he could hold it, press it, mold it, even give it a gentle squeeze through her stays had him so excited, so aroused, he thought he might come to completion again.