by Emma Brady
“I never agreed to that.”
“That came along with the marriage. I wasn’t going to force the point, but your partner might not give me a choice.”
The frustration was too much for her to even find the words, so she sat there sputtering. Lucas reached up to pluck the feather from her hat before it caused him to laugh out loud. She gasped when he handed it back to her. The silly little piece of adornment continued to bounce in her hands as she shook it at him. Lucas found it to be a distraction, but focused on what his wife was trying to say to him.
“You can’t continue to undermine me.” She found her words again. “I’m going to continue my business as I did before. My business, not yours.”
“With your partner?”
“Yes.” The hack came to a stop and she reached for the door before he could. “He’s at least willing to see me as an equal. You don’t seem to see much in me at all.”
She shoved the feather back into his hand before leaving him behind.
Chapter 19
Standing in front of the mirror, Sinclair had to squint to see the details of her image. The dark blue silk clung to her bodice and fell in ripples down the skirt. Matching blue lace trimmed the top of her bodice where the silk met her flesh. She was uncomfortable with the amount of her skin showing, but had been assured by the dressmaker that it was the height of fashion. Her corset had to be pulled in extra tight so that the fasteners in back could be closed.
“You seem to be missing something.”
The deep voice startled her, making her jump. In the reflection she saw a wide shape in black that could only be her husband. Lucas stood, blocking the entire entrance of the bedroom with his muscular frame. She hadn’t seen him since their argument and now felt hesitant. Her anger was gone but now she didn’t know how to behave around him.
“I don’t think so,” she replied, looking at her reflection, “Everything seems to be in order from where I stand.”
“How can you tell, when you are barely able to see your reflection?”
Her hand moved slowly to touch her bare cheeks. She had thought he would be pleased with her decision not to wear her glasses. As often as he had criticized them, he should be thrilled she wasn’t wearing them.
“I wanted to look my best,” said Sinclair. “Show bravery in front of the lion’s den.”
“It is better to see your enemy than impress them.”
A deep sigh slid between her lips as she realized that she wasn’t going to win this argument. With resignation she reached into the top drawer of her vanity. There, wrapped in silk were her treasured pair of spectacles.
“Does this make you happy?”
She placed the delicate pieces of glass on her face and turned to look at him. Now that she no longer had to squint, Sinclair was able to see his handsomeness clearly. The expensive cut of his evening coat defined the athletic build of his body. His thick black hair was combed back to reveal the splendid color of green in his eyes.
“Now you look like a woman I would recognize as being my wife.” Lucas flashed her a grin.
“You couldn’t recognize me without them?”
“It made you appear to be someone you are not.”
“I thought that was the idea.”
Lucas moved slowly into the room, his long legs stretching beneath the fabric of his trousers. His eyes never left hers as he walked to circle behind her. Pointing her face to the reflection in the mirror, he stood behind her with his chest pressed against her back. Sinclair watched as he leaned in to whisper against her ear.
“You shouldn’t give up everything that makes you unique. At least keep something to remind me that I married a very rare woman.”
“Even if society disagrees?”
“Especially then.”
The grip he had on the bare flesh of her arms tightened and she felt him breathing against her skin. It surprised her that Lucas of all people would convince her not to conform, after all his ideas about a woman’s place. Things between them were changing at a rapid pace and Sinclair was unsure of what to do.
“We should be leaving,” Lucas released her arms quickly and headed for the door, “We do not want to offend anyone by being tardy.”
“We certainly wouldn’t want that.”
The Duchess of Lanchester was a woman who had spent her life cultivating her place in society. The duke had been her third husband, none managing to outlive the robust lady. Now she lived the life of a happy widow, raising eyebrows in society but never letting her place slide.
The ball was held in honor of her fortieth birthday, an age most ladies wouldn’t admit to. The duchess was not most ladies and chose to celebrate her years with as much decadence as possible. Sinclair was in awe as she entered the large ballroom brimming with people.
Handsome men holding beautiful women in colorful gowns spun around the dance floor, while many other filled every inch around the room. Dark purple silk covered everything that wasn’t gold and a large table of food dominated one corner. Champagne was being poured by dozens of footmen, into sparkling crystal.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Sinclair whispered, gripping Charlotte’s arm until a faint red mark began to appear. “There are too many people here and the scandal will be fresh on their minds.”
“Just pretend they are not here and they will not notice you.” Charlotte offered.
Contradicting her words the crowd turned in waves to look at them as they walked into the room. Whispers could be seen traveling through the mass of people, barely discreet enough to be considered proper. Sinclair’s face flushed as she overheard her name moving around the room behind fans. Just as she began to step backward through the door, she bumped into Lucas.
“Do not let them smell the fear on you.” He whispered to her.
“You hardly sound fearless.”
“As long as they cannot see it, it does not matter.”
“Do I look afraid?”
“A smile might help.”
The trio moved slowly, smiling with as much dignity as possible. Sinclair’s cheeks began to hurt from the strain of smiling so much, but she feared what might happen if she stopped. Never before had she been under such scrutiny. Only the tight grip Lucas maintained on her wrist kept her from running for the door.
“Your color is not so good.” Charlotte brushed her fingers across the bright pink flesh of Sinclair’s cheek, “I think we should get you something to drink.”
“I just need to sit down.” Sinclair’s breath was barely escaping her lungs. “I’m having trouble breathing.”
“It is probably that corset you insisted on fitting into.”
“I wouldn’t have fit into the dress without it.”
“You would have been fine wearing something else.”
She was too busy concentrating on taking tiny breaths to answer her friend. Sinclair was grateful when she was allowed to perch on the edge of a gilded chair and a glass of Champagne was placed in her hand. Leaning back slightly, the sweet breath she took stretched her chest beneath the confines of her corset, but it felt wonderful.
“Oh, Sinclair,” her grandmother called, rushing to her, “I am so glad you decided to attend.”
“Your grandmother thought you might be too frightened to show,” said James coming to stand next to him wife.
“I did not, I simply wondered if this was a good idea, considering the circumstances.”
“Lillith, our granddaughter is not frightened by what people have to say.”
“I did not say that she was, but it might be a little intimidating.”
A look of sympathy passed between Sinclair and her grandfather. Arguing with Lillith was pointless, as well as tiring. Smiling at her grandmother through gritted teeth, Sinclair hoped she looked happy enough to convince the old woman not to worry.
“I’m not the type to let these people get to me. My mother taught me to have more backbone than that.” said Sinclair.
The crowd parted and Sinclair
saw a tiny woman in layers of silk walk towards her. The woman had diamonds draped heavily around her slender neck and falling from her ears. Her short stature was only enhanced by the round shape of her body, giving her the appearance of an apple.
“You must be the new Lady Westmore,” purred the opulent woman. “ I am glad you were able to attend my birthday ball. Your hasty marriage has become quite infamous.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Sinclair answered, struggling to stand.
It was difficult in the unbending corset to stand up from the position she was sitting. Using the gilt arms as leverage, Sinclair pushed herself forward, almost toppling over onto the duchess.
“You do not seem to have gotten your sea legs yet,” said the duchess with a laugh, her good natured face smiling on Sinclair. “Are all Americans as graceful?”
A thin smile was all Sinclair could manage in response but the duchess didn’t mind. With one diamond covered hand she motioned for one of the footman to bring her a fresh glass of Champagne. The crowd watched in silence as the duchess stood sipping her drink and looking over Sinclair.
“I have heard that you are quite an opinionated young lady.” said the duchess.
“Your Grace, I only speak my mind when asked.”
“Then I am asking you, what do you think of London?”
Sinclair took a big gulp of air, the constraints of her corset squeezing her chest. She could feel every eye in the room watching her, waiting for her response.
“It has been enlightening,” she said carefully. “Nothing at all what I expected.”
“Little in life is what we expect.” An approving smile lit up the older woman’s face and the crowd erupted into applause. Sinclair could feel her cheeks blushing a brighter red.
“I know many things,” the duchess said, beneath the sound of the people, “I have ears all over the city.”
“Oh?”
“For instance, I have it on good authority that you are in business.”
“I’m not alone. I have a gentleman for a partner.”
The lady leaned in to whisper so that only Sinclair could hear what she said.
“We both know who it is running the shop. It takes spirit to try and run against a man, especially in a skirt.”
The duchess gave her a sly smile from behind her silk fan. The crowd grew silent again and it made Sinclair nervous. She hated being the center of attention, having never felt such scrutiny before. Her breathing quickened under the pressure and she feared she might faint.
LUCAS STOOD WATCHING his wife with a close eye. She grew pale, the pink in her cheeks growing red. He could see the shallow breaths she took and wondered if he would soon need to catch her. The thought of her fainting disturbed him. Sinclair always seemed so strong that he wasn’t prepared to see her so weak.
“She certainly looks gorgeous tonight,” said the Duchess of Lanchester, turning to include Lucas in the conversation. “Marriage must agree with her.”
“I do my best to make her happy.”
“Who would not be happy with such a handsome man for a husband?”
“You make me blush.”
“I think it might be a good idea for you to escort your wife out onto the floor for a dance.”
“That sounds like a perfect idea,” Lucas agreed.
Lucas felt Sinclair stumble a bit as they started towards the dance floor. He could feel her sway against him and it infuriated him. The woman shouldn’t have risked her health for fashion.
“Lucas, I don’t think I can dance at the moment, I can hardly breathe.” said Sinclair.
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I just need something to drink.”
Taking another glass of Champagne from a passing tray, Lucas watched her sip it quickly. She appeared to gain her second wind and they progressed around the room, pausing every so often for another drink. It didn’t take Lucas long to realize that his wife was not accustomed to much drinking. By the end of the evening she was barely able to stand alone.
“Was that music not divine?” she slurred, as he carried her into the house.
“The duchess only hires the best musicians,” replied Charlotte, following her brother in.
“I think I could have danced all night.”
“You might have done just that, but I am in need of sleep.”
“Good-night then, sister,” Sinclair called out.
“Good-night to you both.”
Sinclair laughed as Lucas carried her up towards her bedroom. He had a hard time holding her when she squirmed so much in his arms. The softness of her flesh hardly weighed anything, but the heat of her body was a distraction. When her head fell to rest against his chest Lucas looked down to see her gazing at him.
“Lucas, do you think I’m attractive?” Sinclair’s voice held no practiced allure, but just her natural voice made his blood race.
The question took him by surprise, so he struggled to find an answer.
“I think you are a beautiful woman,” he said, kicking open the door to her room with one foot, “You have many wonderful attributes.”
“Such as?”
He softly laid her down on the plush linens covering her bed, watching her hair fall down around her head in a dark halo. The pale blue of her eyes were shining up at him with her fluttery lashes falling against her cheek with every blink. He struggled to remember the flattery he had given other woman.
“You have the most delicious lips I have ever tasted.” He stared at them as he spoke.
“I imagine you’ve tasted quite a few.”
“I cannot remember.” That was the truth because in that moment all he could remember was the way she tasted, rich and bold.
Those tempting lips smiled, while the hint of pink tongue slipped out to run along her teeth. Without realizing what he was doing, Lucas reached down to brush his thumb across them. To his surprise Sinclair responded by wrapping her lips around the finger and tickling it with her tongue. Feeling heat surge through his body, he pulled back quickly.
“Tonight has been more than I ever dreamed,” she whispered, her eyes closing gently.
“You were radiant,” he answered, “I could not keep my eyes off of you.”
“It was almost perfect.”
“Almost?”
“Lucas, I think you should stay with me tonight.”
Looking at her, Lucas had never seen anything so tempting. Her skin was barely contained by the thin fabric of her dress and her breasts were threatening to spill out the top of her tight corset. He longed to run his lips across the pale flesh and find the rosy peaks that waited for him.
“I do not think that would be a good idea.” His own voice sounded harsh against his ears.
“Don’t you want me?” Her mouth tilted down in the corners.
“More than you know.” Lucas had never wanted anything like this before. It took everything he had to keep his hands from reaching for her.
“Then kiss me. Kiss me like I’m a desirable woman instead of the opinionated American you were forced to marry.” The pleading touched him deeper than the sexual desire.
“I find the American desirable on her own.”
He could see she was going to argue with him and he didn’t want to hear anything she might say. With swift movements he captured her face in his hand and brought his lips to hers. Lucas heard her sigh as he pressed his mouth against hers.
Sinclair’s tongue slipped out to dance with his own, giving him her sweet taste. The slow strokes of her tongue over his drove him beyond the edge of his control. He needed to feel more of her, to touch her.
Moving faster now, driving his tongue into her mouth, Lucas reached up to cup her breast in his hand. The corset was so tight it only took a tiny tug to free the creamy orb to the air. Using his thumb to stroke the tiny peak until it hardened, Lucas swallowed the sound of her moan.
Breaking away from her mouth, he slid his tongue down the column of her throat and up over t
he crest of her breast. She arched upward, urging him to take the blushing nipple in his mouth. Ignoring her silent plea, Lucas slowly used his tongue to circle around the peak, moving fast with each circle. When a strangled sound came from her, he wrapped his lips around the tiny peak and suckled on it gently.
The urgency in her response surprised him as much as the feeling of her hands spreading across his back. As he flicked his tongue across the hardened nipple, he felt her fingers digging into his back through his coat and shirt.
“Lucas, please.”
He knew she begged for something she didn’t understand. Wanting to feel more of her hot skin beneath his hand, Lucas reached around to find the fasteners of her gown. His desire made his hands clumsy and he couldn’t unhook them fast enough. Desperate to touch her, he ripped the fabric straight down the front her dress. In a swift movement, he tore at the lacings of her corset until she lay topless beneath him.
“That was a costly dress,” Sinclair giggled between breaths.
“I will buy you a new one.”
His need for her outweighed any other consideration at the moment. Reaching beneath her skirts, his hand slid up between her thighs. At first she froze, gripping his hands just past her knees. Trying to soothe her he whispered softly in her ear. “Let me pet you, my darling.”
His soothing voice must have worked because her muscles soon relaxed allowing his hand to continue upward. When he felt the wet entrance to her body, he groaned at how easily he was able to slide a finger between the folds of her womanhood. He felt her lurch up as he slowly started stroking the bud of her femininity.
Her breathing grew rapid, gasps escaping her open mouth. As the tension buildt in her, the gasps got shorter and more rapid. Lucas clenched his teeth against the throbbing in his manhood. Focusing all his concentration on her, he felt the moment when she drifted over the edge and convulsed with her orgasm.
Shuddering, Sinclair opened her glazed eyes to stare at him in silent wonder. There was a hushed plea behind the blue that tempted him to bury his body in her and not look back. Clinging to last shreds of honor he had, Lucas replaced her skirt and hurried from the room. The sound of her ragged sigh followed him out.