For the first time, he had a ridiculous urge to hold a woman through the night. He’d never look at his desk the same way again. Suddenly the mountain of paperwork and ledgers waiting for him didn’t matter. All that mattered was the next time he could hold her, kiss her, and possess her.
He helped her dress. Things had changed between them. She may not realize it, but he did and he prayed she wouldn’t have second thoughts tomorrow. He brushed his lips across her forehead.
“Thank you, Amelia. It was a gift I’ll treasure.”
She opened the hidden panel, but just before she slipped inside she glanced back at him. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I don’t regret it.”
Chapter Sixteen
The following afternoon, the guests gathered in the vestibule to wait for the carriages to be brought around to transport them to the village fair. Chloe, Helen, and Caroline, along with Huntingdon’s sister, Sara, chatted beside the fountain in the graveled drive. The first carriage was occupied with the duke, the marquess, and his brothers, Weston and Emmett.
As soon as Brandon stepped outside, he immediately spotted Amelia standing by a rosebush. She looked beautiful with her upswept auburn hair and gown of pale-yellow muslin.
As long as he lived, he’d never forget the image of her beautiful body spread across his desk as she reached her first orgasm. Or the feel of her slick heat as he thrust inside her. Christ…she was sensual enough to make any man lose control.
He’d desperately wanted to see her this morning, but she’d been with the other women and there was no opportunity to steal a moment alone. Had she dreamed of him? Now that she was within reach he wanted to stride to her, take her into his arms, and kiss her with every fiber of his being.
For the first time, he noticed that Eliza was speaking with Amelia. He approached the pair and bowed. “Miss Somerton, will you do me the pleasure of riding in my carriage to the fair?” He looked at her sister. “With Lady Huntingdon as a chaperone, of course.”
Amelia’s eyes widened at the request. He knew it was forward and could easily be misconstrued. A bachelor didn’t invite young, unmarried females into his carriage without causing tongues to wag and gossip to ensue, but he didn’t care. Logic fled when she was in his presence.
Brandon waited for her answer. Her lips parted, but before she could respond, Eliza interrupted. “I’m sorry, my lord, but we are riding with the duchess and her daughter.”
A swish of skirts alerted him to the presence of another. Brandon glanced to the side to see the duchess approach. Lady Minerva followed, a wide smile on her face as soon as she spotted him. Minerva was dressed in a gown of cream satin, with rows and rows of bows. No doubt the duchess wanted her daughter to appear innocent, but the dress was inappropriate for a simple country fair. He wondered how she didn’t perspire in the warm weather.
“You must join us in our carriage,” the duchess said to him.
It was far from what he’d planned. The thought of spending time in the company of the duchess and Lady Minerva made his skin itch. But it was a request he could not easily refuse.
He bowed. “Of course.”
He’d wanted Amelia to himself. He wanted assurance that she felt well after last night. It was her first time, and despite his best intentions, he had not been gentle. Most of all, he wanted to kiss her again. He glanced at Amelia. Her complexion had paled a shade, and he knew she wasn’t pleased with the seating arrangements.
Theirs was the second carriage in line to leave the manor for the fair. At the last minute, Huntingdon called out for his wife to join him, and Eliza made her excuses and left for her husband’s carriage. Brandon was forcibly placed beside Minerva, and her mother sat across from him. Amelia had no choice but to settle in the corner.
“How many years has the fair taken place?” Minerva asked.
“For as long as I can remember,” Brandon said. “Even from the time I was a young boy, I have fond memories of the fair. Peddlers travel from all over Hampshire to sell their goods alongside the local villagers and tenants from both Rosehill’s and Huntingdon’s estate.”
Minerva’s eyes widened. “Traveling peddlers? I daresay is it safe?”
“Very safe. I wouldn’t allow my guests to attend otherwise,” he said.
The duchess wrinkled her nose as if she smelled a bad odor. “I believe it’s better to mingle with people from our own station than to spend time with the working class who are only as intelligent as the sheep they shear.”
“I find that intelligence is influenced by family history, not whether or not someone has inherited a title,” Amelia said.
Brandon’s lips twitched with humor. The duchess didn’t look amused. No doubt she was thinking of her own daughter.
“They are hard working people, Your Grace,” Brandon said. “Rosehill wouldn’t survive without the rents paid by its tenants.”
“I know the income is important. I just find consorting with those who come from the common classes distasteful,” the duchess said, her eyes resting on Amelia a second too long.
Amelia sat straight. “The fair sounds wonderful to me. Is it true there are jugglers and tumblers?”
Brandon nodded. “There are.”
Their gazes held across the carriage for a heartbeat longer than necessary. A tangible current passed between them, exciting and electrifying. Amelia blinked and turned away.
Brandon became aware of the way the duchess looked from him to Amelia. Her shrewd, dark eyes narrowed momentarily before she pursed her lips. Unlike her daughter, the duchess was no fool and didn’t miss the tiniest of details. Her interests were clear—a match between Brandon and Minerva.
The carriage rumbled to a halt, and a squeak was heard as the driver hopped down from his seat.
“Perhaps you would be kind enough to escort us about the fair?” the duchess said.
Brandon’s cravat felt unusually tight as he looked into the woman’s sharp, dark eyes. “I’d be delighted to escort all the ladies.”
…
Stepping from the carriage, Amelia was excited to see they were in the heart of the festivities. Music drifted across the village green, which was crowded with revelers. Hawkers sold their wares in stalls, on wooden tables, and from their own colorful carts. Everything was offered to tempt visitors—cloth, jewelry, hair ribbons, hats, children’s toys, decorative fans, even litters of puppies and kittens. Laughter carried across a breeze, and torches stood ready to light to continue the festivities long into the evening. The thatched roofs of tenant cottages dotted the horizon.
Amelia followed behind the duchess and Minerva as Brandon escorted them onto the village green. Several tenants waved at Brandon, and Amelia recognized them as the ones she had seen when he’d taken her on a tour of his estate.
“Oh! Can we stop, Mother?” Minerva pointed to a stall where hair ribbons and fans were displayed. Even the dowager was distracted by the delicate fans.
Brandon grasped Amelia’s arm. “Come with me,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to show you something, one of my favorites as a boy.”
Her heart thumped at his touch. It had been difficult to sit in the same carriage with him and not think of last night. She’d feared she’d blush and all the occupants would suspect what had occurred between them. She’d never forget it. As she’d lain in the drowsy warmth of her bed this morning, she imagined she was in Brandon’s arms.
The women were occupied, and Amelia was able to step away without anyone noticing. “What is it?”
He shook his head. “I have to show you.”
Amelia was intrigued by the glint of excitement in his eyes. She glanced behind her shoulder. The hawker anticipated a large sale and had brought out more goods to display for the group. The duchess and Minerva, with avid interest, examined jewelry and straw hats adorned with an assortment of feathers, silk flowers, and ribbons.
Brandon’s fingers wrapped around Amelia’s gloved hand as he led her away from the group.
“I used to wait all year for the fair to arrive, just for this,” he said.
“I’m curious. What could hold your interest so much?”
He steered her through the crowd with ease. “Come see.”
She looked up at him and was struck by his relaxed expression. Unlike in the carriage, the crease between his brows was gone. He looked relaxed…filled with anticipation, and she glimpsed the boy beneath the man. The boy who’d eagerly counted the days until the hawkers had arrived each year for the fair.
“It’s nothing dangerous, is it?” she asked.
He flashed a smile. His excitement was contagious, and she stifled a giggle. They hurried along the colorful stalls. She spotted large wooden buckets for apple bobbing, and wheelbarrows for races, and a pole greased with duck fat to climb. The crowd gathered to watch a juggler dressed in colorful garb toss six balls up and keep them in the air. Onlookers clapped and cheered at the man’s antics.
Pulling her close, Brandon placed Amelia’s hand on his arm and maneuvered through the throng of people. In the tightly packed crowd, no one noticed, but Amelia’s body warmed at the protectiveness of his gesture and the feel of his hard thigh against hers. Even more shocking was the comfort and pleasure she felt walking beside him.
“Here we are,” he said, stopping before a table draped with a red cloth displaying fruits and confections. Sweet pastries, candied nuts, sweetmeats, and fruits were spread out like a lush feast. A short, old man with a thick head of white hair and a beard smiled. “Good afternoon, my lord.”
“Hello Abe,” Brandon said. “Have you saved it for me?”
Abe’s smile revealed two missing front teeth. “I’d never forget ye, my lord.”
Brandon turned to her, and his lips curved in a smile. “Have you ever tried a pineapple?”
“Noooo.” Pineapples were extremely rare and she never had the luxury when she lived in the city. She hadn’t even seen the fruit when she stayed at Huntingdon’s home.
“Rosehill has many gardens, but we lack a pinery. Abe travels from village to village, and he always manages to save one for me. It’s a mystery how he’s able to get one every year.”
Abe winked. “It’s a secret, but I haven’t failed ye yet, my lord.” He reached beneath the table and pulled out a pineapple. Amelia’s eyes widened in wonder, and she reached out to touch the tuft of sword-shaped leaves and the spiny brown skin covering the fruit.
“Let me cut it for ye.” Abe picked up a large knife on the table and sliced off the top, placed the pineapple up side down and cut into the fruit.
Brandon pulled a coin from his pocket and handed it to the old man in exchange for a piece. “The center is the most tender and juicy. You must taste it for yourself.” Brandon held the fruit to her lips.
Amelia knew it was ridiculously improper to allow him to feed her, but unlike inside the stifling confines of the carriage, no one was watching them. She parted her lips, and he placed the tip of the fruit in her mouth. She took a bite and a burst of flavor made her eyes flutter closed. It was unlike anything she’d ever tasted—sweet and juicy. She sighed in pure delight.
“It’s delicious,” she said.
A drop of juice lingered on her lower lip. She opened her eyes to find Brandon staring at her mouth, his expression intense.
Leaning close, he whispered in her ear. “I want to lick the juice from your lips.”
She could hardly breathe. Her body tensed with exquisite tension.
“You mustn’t speak to me like that in public.”
“It’s the truth.”
“What if the duchess sees us?”
His steady gaze caused a flurry within her. “I don’t care what the duchess thinks.”
She shouldn’t feel giddy about his statement, but she did. Heaven, she did. He didn’t care about Lady Minerva or her large dowry. Even though he needed the money, and most men of his station would grasp at the titled heiress, he didn’t.
The shocking truth struck her. He was willing to kiss her here, in the center of the village fair, surrounded by scores of people.
She almost gave in. Almost. All that held her back was a small voice of reason that echoed in her brain. She didn’t want to get caught in a compromising position. The consequences would be too serious. She had no desire to be forced to the altar. Lust was one thing; a forced marriage something else entirely.
Her future plans included exhibitions and art critics, not marriage.
“In private, then?” His eyes clung to hers, waiting for her reaction.
Her heartbeat escalated beneath his heated gaze. She longed for his kiss; her body ached for his touch.
Her voice was a mere whisper. “Yes.”
Unmistakable desire flashed in his eyes. He led her away from the stall, and they walked through the fair to the outskirts of the village green in silence. They left the crowd behind, and he continued toward a line of trees leading into the woods. The noise of the fair lessened until it could no longer be heard and the air was cooler.
He stopped beneath a large oak and drew her into his arms. “I couldn’t wait another minute to get you alone.”
She felt the same, but his mouth covered hers before she could speak. He took her lips in a soft and seductive kiss. She opened to him with a small whimper, and his tongue swept inside with a lazy, sensuous movement. She came alive then and her tongue entwined with his. Her fingers speared into his thick hair and urged him to deepen the kiss. With a low growl, he slid his hand around her neck, drawing her closer, and took her mouth with a savage intensity that left no doubt as to the fierceness of his desire. She tasted the sweet, exotic pineapple on his tongue. Molding her body against him, her senses throbbed with the strength and feel and scent of him.
At last he pulled back to cup her cheek. “I can’t stop thinking of last night,” he said.
“Nor can I.”
He groaned. “You have no idea of my wicked thoughts. I’ll never look at my desk the same way again.”
“It’s shown in your portrait. What will you do?”
His head lowered to kiss a hot trail down her neck, and lower still, to the lacy bodice of her gown. When his lips hovered over the swell of a breast, she sucked in a breath.
“Then we must make love on another piece of furniture in my study, so that I will think of something else when I have to work on my desk,” he murmured against her breast.
She bit her lip. “Your study? I was hoping we could try here?”
He lifted his head an inch to meet her gaze, and a flash of raw, primitive lust lit his eyes. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”
My lady. She’d worked hard to behave like a lady ever since Eliza had married Lord Huntingdon. But since she’d been with Brandon, propriety was the last thing on her mind. What did it matter when the hot tide of passion raged through her?
He lowered his head once again over her breast and kissed the soft flesh above her bodice. She wanted more, and her hand went to brazenly cup her own breast.
“Kiss me here,” she breathed.
His fingers swiftly went to the fastenings on the back of her gown. Then her gown and chemise slid down her arms, and her bare breasts were revealed to his heated gaze. With lids half closed, she watched him lower his head and lick a pebble hard nipple. Then his teeth tugged slightly, sending sharp pleasure down to her belly.
There was a rustle of skirts, and then his fingers glided up her silk stockings, past her thighs, to the top of her garters. He found the slit in her drawers and reached her woman’s center. This time she knew the pleasure to be found and squirmed beneath his touch until he threaded through the curls to finger her swollen, sensitive flesh.
“Ah, Amelia. You’re so wet for me.”
Ragged whimpers of sheer need escaped her lips. His magical fingers were at her soft core, stroking, teasing, driving her mad. Her hips arched against his hand of their own accord.
“Easy, Amelia,” he murmured.
She didn’t wan
t easy. She wanted all of him. Boldly she reached for the fall of his breeches and let out a satisfied moan when she felt his hardness. He hissed at her touch, then helped her with the loosening and he sprang free, hard and demanding. Her fingers explored him, reveling in the hard feel of him, like steel encased in velvet. He groaned and cupped her bottom with his large hands and lifted her to press her against the trunk of the tree.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he said hoarsely.
She lifted her legs, eager to feel his fullness inside her. The tip of his cock eased inside an inch.
She couldn’t control her moan of delight. “Brandon, I need more.” Her fingers grasped his hard buttocks, urging him to thrust.
“Sweet Jesus,” he groaned. “I tried to go slow.”
Deep spirals of desire formed in her belly, and her hips arched forward just as he plunged deep. Her breath caught, but this time there was no pain, only the stretching of her body to accommodate him. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss as he began to thrust in and out of her body. It was exquisite, wicked, and oh, so miraculous. Passion rose in her like the hottest fire, clouding her mind. He captured her lips as a scream erupted, and she crested and rode the wave of pleasure. He threw back his head and groaned, his eyes closing for an instant as he withdrew from her body and found his release.
Exhausted and drained, his forehead rested against hers as they breathed heavily in the cool forest air. At last he pulled back and brushed a kiss across her lips.
Her heart tightened in her chest, and she feared her emotions more than this desire. Brandon had awakened her body, but it was her soul that had changed. She couldn’t love him. They were from different worlds. He needed what she didn’t have, and she wanted an artistic future that she could never have as his wife.
But she cared for him. Greatly.
He’d withdrawn last night, and she was grateful for his precautions. An unwanted pregnancy would be disastrous, and the consequences would be grave for both of them.
With a firm hold on her waist, he slowly eased her to her feet and helped right her gown. When at last she was dressed, she turned to him. He reached out and picked a leaf from her hair.
Real Earls Break the Rules (Infamous Somertons) Page 13