“Raven?” Dory knew her voice was shaky. “What is it you want from me?”
“Be with me, Peacock. Please.” Stiffening in his arms, Jeremy rushed on. “Wait! Just…just listen. I am making a hash of this. Forgive me.”
Turning in his embrace, she looked up at him, his emerald eyes so dark they appeared black. “There is nothing to forgive, my raven. Just ask me plainly. As we have always spoken.” She offered him a tiny smile. “No secrets, remember?”
He nodded and for the first time, Dory could see tiny cracks in Jeremy’s mask of cool sophistication. He was worried about her reaction to the question he was about to ask. He shouldn’t have been. She knew what he was going to ask of her, or at least she suspected. And, of course, the answer was going to be yes. She would have said yes that first night, even if doing so would have made her no better than a common whore.
“Our time grows short, sweet. I am certain you know this.” His voice was rough and deep now, as if he was worried. He didn’t need to be.
“I am.” Ah. They were on the same page about things. She hoped.
Dory watched Jeremy’s tongue dart out to lick his lips and suddenly, she wanted to taste him, his tongue in her mouth. And…elsewhere. Just like all of the naughty books she had read – complete with drawings – in her brother’s library.
“But I don’t want this to end. Though I also know that we cannot be together.” He turned and nodded toward the window wall, never releasing her from his embrace. “Out there? We could not exist.”
“In here we can.” Summoning up all of her courage, Dory reached up and placed her fingertips on Jeremy’s lips. She had become bold over the last few weeks. Bolder than she could have ever imagined. Because of this man. “In here, we can do and be whatever we like.”
He nipped at her finger with his teeth and this time, Dory did moan. Loudly. These touches were small, but still extremely forbidden. Lover’s touches. She was playing with fire, being here with this man after running away from the safe and expected reality that was her life as Frost’s sister and Harry’s potential betrothed.
“Then be my mistress, Peacock.” The shock she saw in his eyes hinted that he might not have meant to say that so quickly, but now committed, he rushed on. “I do not mean simply in the sexual, though should you grant me that pleasure and that privilege, I would not turn you down.”
Now Dory was confused – not to mention very, very aroused. “Then how do you mean? What other sort of mistress is there?”
“The kind who listens to her lover and is there for him, even when they are not coupling in the physical sense.” Jeremy pulled Dory closer and she didn’t resist, going more fully to his arms willingly. “Make these masquerades more than just a few stolen dances, Peacock. Let us simply relish being with one another without restriction and without hesitation. Reveal yourself to me when you are within these walls, and I will do the same for you. Let down your guard and show me who you really are. You see me, Peacock, in a way that no one else does. To you, I am not some prize to snare, but a person. You desire me for me, and while beyond these walls, I would not be good enough for you? In here? We are equals. We can, well, we can just be. We can share a closeness that no one out there can even imagine because it is so forbidden.”
Unknowingly, Jeremy had struck close to the one area where Dory was the most vulnerable – being seen for who and what one was. He was asking her to give him the one thing she herself had longed for the last few years. To be valued for herself and not because of her connection to another. He was asking her to give him all of herself. Because he wanted her and not simply because it was expected but because she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
In the past, Dory had been referred to as a hellion and those people weren’t far from wrong. At least not always. She might have been raised as a lady but she was still Frost’s sister. She had seen much growing up in Chilton House. She knew far more about the way the world truly worked than she ought.
She also knew that people were, for the most part, neither completely good nor completely bad. People were also fallible. They made mistakes and bad choices. That included women. Lord knew, many of her friends had made questionable choices, especially as of late when they had followed their hearts over their heads and into some disreputable lord’s bed.
Those affairs, ill-advised as they had been, had worked out for them. All of her friends had found their happiness. Why couldn’t she, even if it was only for a little while. Because she wasn’t stupid. Despite everything, Dory knew that, in time, she would likely be forced to wed Harry. Again, that was the way the world worked. But she might be able to have this, too. Especially since it was only a temporary arrangement.
But could she really do this? Could she be this man’s mistress? She desired him yes, but giving him her body and her soul both? Though Jeremy had said this affair didn’t have to be sexual. It rather seemed that he wanted her company, at least for now, though she had no doubt that in time, they would fuck. They both desired each other too much to do otherwise.
For now, though? He wanted someone to listen to him? Didn’t she desire the same?
She did and Lord above, this was foolish to even consider, but it was only three more weeks. Everyone she cared about was tied up in their own lives and earlier, she had heard one of the masquerade guests mention that Harry had been seen trailing after an unknown woman at Lord and Lady Covington’s at some point after Dory had left him there.
Therefore, Harry was no longer a consideration for her.
That left only one question. Did she want this? Did she want him? Did she want Jeremy however she could have him? Yes. Yes, she did. So, in the end, there really was no choice but to agree.
“Peacock?” Dory hadn’t realized how lost she was in her own thoughts until Jeremy spoke. “What do you say? Will you be my temporary mistress?”
Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck, wondering if, someday soon, she might finally be able to look at him without these masks. She thought she would like that – very much. “Yes, my raven. I will be your mistress for however long we can manage.”
“And?” Now he seemed to hesitate. Well, that would not do.
“There is no ‘and.’ At least not yet. We will simply take things slowly.” At least that seemed logical to her.
“I don’t follow.” Now it was Jeremy’s turn to be confused.
“We meet here again. Tomorrow night. Just as we are now. With the masks. Why wait for the masquerade when this is what we both want?” She couldn’t venture here unmasked. He had to know that.
“And then?”
Dory swallowed hard. “And then? We do as we please. We see where this attraction leads.” Reaching up, she traced her fingers over his lips again, hoping she was not going to come to regret the words she was about to say. “And if that leads to your bed? Then so be it.”
At that, Jeremy’s response was to crush her to him, turning her mask to the side in the process as he brought his lips to hers in a scorching-hot kiss. Her first-ever kiss.
And that kiss? It had been well worth waiting for.
Chapter Five
Town Tattler
(Late Afternoon Supplemental Edition)
Word has reached my ears rather late today regarding an incident that took place at Dionysus, everyone’s favorite new gaming hell, last evening. It seems that Society’s least favorite reprobate, Lord Stillborough, threw a drink on a poor, hapless serving girl. Yes, yes, dear readers. I am well aware that most of you consider the serving girls at places like Dionysus little better than trollops, but I can assure you all that many of those young women are born into circumstances no different than yours or mine and poor choices by others have forced them into that life. Even if that is not the case, those young ladies are still someone’s daughter or sister or niece and do not deserve such treatment! What does it say about us as a Society if we treat those in less desirable circumstances so wretchedly?
In any case, I a
m told that one Lord Jeremy Taggart Dunn – yes, the hell owner himself – was summoned to deal with the incident. Though I am also told that Lord Richard Haywood – yes, THAT Lord Richard – was on hand to assist the injured young lady and was only too happy to allow Lord Dunn to take care of the proverbial “dirty work” while he attended to the serving girl.
Does it not speak volumes, dear readers, that men like Lord Stillborough are held in such high esteem while men like Lord Dunn and Lord Haywood are oftentimes reviled? I believe it does, but then who I am to judge? After all, I am merely a gossip columnist and no one of any particular note.
-Lady A
P.S. As an aside, I was also told that the mysterious bejeweled Lady Peacock was seen leaving Dionysus again last evening and looked, from all appearances, to be a lady of Quality and refinement, a single feather from a raven mask still attached to her cloak. Dare we hope that there are, in fact, those amongst us, that can see that, with some gentlemen, all is not as it appears? Something to think about, isn’t it, dear readers?
Had Dory really agreed to be his mistress? Did she even know what that meant? Did she understand what he wished to do with her? To her?
As his coach rolled up in front of the stately Mayfair townhome, Jeremy was still asking himself those same questions that he had first thought of last night when Dory had wrapped her arms around him and agreed to be his mistress for the next three weeks. He had been so shocked – not to mention so elated – that he had kissed her. Far more intimately than he had meant to, as it happened.
He hadn’t meant to nearly take her innocence right there on the floor. Despite the rumors about him – some of which were true – he was not a complete cad, and from the moment they met, he suspected that Dory had never even been so much as kissed before. Therefore, he had vowed, at least to himself, that he would never do anything to harm her. Which included kissing her in that sort of erotic fashion before she was ready.
Except that when she had pressed her body against his last evening, so soft and warm and willing? Well, he hadn’t been able to stop himself and before he knew what he was doing, his tongue was in her mouth and they were wrapped around each other without a single inch between them.
All of which worried Jeremy. After all, he was renowned for his self-control. Well, except around Dory, apparently. And that was what had really bothered him.
Because that first kiss had led to another and then to another. He had only managed to pull his lips away from hers when Richard had knocked at the door to inform Jeremy that Lord Stillborough was causing something of a scene on the main gaming floor and needed to be dealt with swiftly. Even then, it had taken a few more minutes for Jeremy to pry himself away from Dory before entrusting her to Adams’ more than capable care and instructing the footman to make sure Jeremy’s own personal – and, of course, unmarked – carriage took her home safely.
Before parting, however, they had agreed to meet again this evening. Provided, of course, that she could slip away without being seen. That was likely always to be the major obstacle to this proposed affair. Or whatever it was they were about to embark upon.
He was no longer quite certain what he had agreed to, actually.
There was one other obstacle to this pleasurable madness, of course – Jeremy’s own conscience.
Despite what Dory said about no one caring where she went or what she was about, he knew that wasn’t true. She might think that, and certainly, her family’s actions as of late might give her good reason for her belief, but he also knew something of the Tillsbury family, for he was not as far removed from them – or any of Society – as they might believe.
Dory’s family loved her, even though they were distracted more often than not. Jeremy knew they did. What they would not love was him sniffing around her skirts and hoping to get beneath them. On the other hand, that knowledge would not exactly stop him either, though it would make him proceed with caution. Especially when it came to the possibility of bedding her.
The truth was, he couldn’t stay away from her. He still couldn’t explain exactly why. So for now? He wouldn’t. But when the time came? He would back away and leave her be, using his legendary self-control to do so. Because they both knew this was a fantasy. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
What was real, however, was his extremely manipulative mother, who was even now waiting for him inside this monstrosity of a London town home so that she could pounce if she thought he was weak. And he was late, meaning she would be even more displeased than she usually was when he appeared for his twice-weekly visits.
However, there would be one person inside that would be happy to see him. She would also be happy to see the gift he had brought for her from her favorite place on earth, The Child’s Emporium. Yes, Maggie would be happy to see him, even if no one else was.
The carriage had no sooner rolled to a stop than Jeremy leaped out, his boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. He didn’t even wait for his tiger to lower the steps. He needed to have this meeting done and over with, the sooner the better. At least part of it. Because it was Friday, which meant this was the day his mother would hound him about her finances. As always.
“Higgins.” Jeremy nodded to his mother’s butler as he offered the man his hat, which was quickly passed off to a footman. “How fares my mother this morning?”
“Irritable,” the butler replied with a weary sigh, which told Jeremy all he really needed to know about her mood, “but then it is Friday, my lord, and you know how she can be.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. If Higgins felt the need to add that last part, then she was in particularly rotten spirits. “Indeed, I do.”
Then again, when wasn’t Jeremy’s mother, the dowager duchess of Wyncliffe not irritable or miserable? He couldn’t remember a time, actually.
“She is in the green parlor, my lord.” Higgins looked a bit uncomfortable, but this man knew who paid his salary and where his loyalty lay, and it wasn’t with Lady Wyncliffe. “She is in high dudgeon, if I may say so. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, you understand.”
So, it was to be one of those mornings, was it?” “Anything to drink?” Jeremy needed to know if his mother was already foxed before he faced down the dragon that awaited him.
“Not yet, my lord. At least not that I’m aware. If she has intoxicants in the house, I cannot find them.”
Jeremy would not fault the butler even if his mother were foxed already. She was a sly creature and could sneak in just about anything under anyone’s nose. After all, she had done so numerous times in the past – even with him all but standing watch over her.
Thankfully, she hadn’t over-indulged in drink in nearly a year, but there was always a chance that she could, so Jeremy wished to remain vigilant. However, at the moment, he had the feeling drink was the least of his problems where his mother was concerned.
“Very good.” His hand on the stair rail, he paused before handing over the box he had almost forgotten he was carrying. “Oh, and Higgins, please see that this is given to Maggie’s nanny. I will see her and Maggie once I am done visiting with my mother, but I don’t want Lady Wyncliffe to see this. You know how she can get.”
“Indeed.” The other man nodded and took the box. “I will see to it personally, my lord.”
With a nod to Higgins, Jeremy quickly began taking the steps two and then three at a time, eager for this part of the visit to be finished. If Higgins said that Lady Patience Prudence Dunn was in “high dudgeon” than her mood was likely far worse than that. She was probably enraged and his visit would only make matters worse. Especially when he would turn down her request for additional funds for the week – as he always did.
For his mother, despite her names, was neither patient nor prudent about anything in her life, but especially not about money. While Jeremy’s father had been alive, he had kept his wife – along with the rest of the family, save for Jeremy who had his own funds and his own way of doing things – until his ducal, iron-willed
control. During that time, his mother did not over-spend on fripperies, nor indulge in too much drink, nor gamble more than she could afford.
Once his father had passed and Jeremy’s elder brother, Wilson, had become the new (and somewhat current) duke, the purse strings had been loosened and for the first time, Jeremy understood, at least a little, why his father had ruled his family with such a strong will. His mother began to spend money as if it grew on trees. While the Dunn family’s personal fortune along with the Wyncliffe dukedom’s estate fortune were both rather sizeable, Jeremy’s mother had done her best to put a significant dent in both of them.
And Wilson had done nothing to stop her. Nor had Jeremy’s younger brother, Alfred. No matter how much Jeremy – who was the proverbial black sheep of the family anyway and not one to be listened to on any matter, no matter how serious – begged.
Then came the day when neither Wilson nor Alfred had a say in what their mother did or did not do. How much she spent or did not spend. Eventually, there came a day when Jeremy – the most hated of them all – was the one in charge of everyone’s lives. That was the day everything had changed. The same day his mother came to despise him even more than she already did.
But it couldn’t be helped. It was for her own good. Even if she didn’t realize it just now.
Determined now to get this part of the visit over with, Jeremy gave a short, perfunctory knock on the drawing room door and then pushed it open without waiting for an invitation to enter. One wouldn’t have been forthcoming anyway. His mother was hardly a gracious hostess these days. Unless, of course, one brought her a gift or came with the offer of money.
“Mother. You are looking lovely this morning.” Jeremy hoped he sounded sincere. He was doing his best, after all.
His Temporary Mistress Page 7