by Gill, Tamara
A shiver of awareness trembled down her spine at the feel of his touch. They were alone in the gardens, free from prying eyes, and his words, oh, such sweet words, were doing odd things to her stomach.
If she were as bold as Georgina, she would close the space between them and kiss Lord Hastings. The wicked glint in his eyes told her he would not be in opposition to such actions. "Ye think I'm lovely? I think ye may have had too much wine this evening." She grinned, trying to make light of a situation she wasn't entirely sure she had control of. Never had she been in such a position, never had any gentleman touched her so intimately.
It left her discombobulated and unsure of what to do next.
"I have had hardly any wine, my lady. It is not the wine that has intoxicated me."
Oh my. Had he really said such a thing?
"You are not fond of compliments, I think. Mayhap you have not heard enough of them." He reached for her, taking her face in his hands.
Elizabeth gasped, unsure what to do, what to say, or think. Was he going to kiss her? She'd never been kissed before, and now, in his arms, she could not think of anything she wanted more. He was so overwhelming, handsome, his dark-blue eyes and strong jaw, his lips that made her want to close the space between them and touch her mouth to his.
If only she could be so bold.
Like a dream, he slowly leaned down, and then his lips brushed hers. They were as soft as she imagined, and then the kiss changed. He closed his mouth over hers, his tongue slipping against her lips, and a heady ache settled between her legs.
Elizabeth reached for him, wrapping her arms about his neck and slipping into his arms. He let go of her face, wrapping his arms about her waist, crushing her to him. Her breasts grazed against his waistcoat, sensitized and heavier than they normally were.
His mouth moved, teased her to open for him. Elizabeth copied his movements, hoping she was doing the right thing and not making a fool of herself.
"That's it, open for me, darling." He kissed her hard, and then the world on which she stood tilted, threatened to tip her off.
His tongue slid into her mouth, tangling with hers. She moaned, kissing him back with as much need, as much desire as that which coursed through her blood like an elixir.
The kiss went on and on, both of them taking from the other. His hands slid over her back, sometimes lower than what was acceptable in a dance. She wanted him to dip his hand lower still, knead her flesh. On second thought, she wanted his hand elsewhere too. Her breasts ached, her nipples tingled. Liquid heat pooled at her core, and she tightened her thighs, wanting to sate the throbbing there.
Elizabeth fisted his hair into her hands, holding his nape, and slipped her tongue against his. The sensation was odd but delicious. He moaned, and if there ever was a sound she wanted to hear, again and again, it was that one.
She pulled back, meeting his dark, hooded gaze. "Do you like my kiss, my lord?" she said, sipping from his lips yet again.
He swallowed, a small smile quirking his mouth. "I think you need to kiss me again." He closed the space to do exactly that, and Elizabeth stepped away, holding him back with her hand.
"If I kiss ye again now, ye may have your fill, and I cannot have that." She grinned as understanding dawned on his face. He smiled, bowing.
"Good evening, then, Lady Elizabeth."
"Good evening, my lord." Elizabeth turned, biting her lip to stop the squeal of delight from passing through. How delicious it was to be in his arms, to have his kisses bestowed on her. However was she to ensure she received more of them? No man would kiss a woman like Lord Hastings kissed her unless their interest was piqued. Hope blossomed through her. Did this mean that finally she would receive an offer, be courted, flirted with, and kissed for her Season in Scotland?
She smiled, crossing the lawn and stepping back up onto the terrace before heading indoors. Perhaps this year she would be her own good-luck charm and not anyone else's.
Lucky Lizzie indeed.
Chapter 8
They returned to Edinburgh two days later to commence their Season in town. Elizabeth greeted the butler at Georgina's townhouse, handing a nearby footman her gloves and hat. They were all tired after their journey and hectic few days in the country, but Elizabeth couldn't help but feel energized and excited over the weeks to come.
She had watched Lord Hastings leave the country estate the day after the masked ball. Only hours after their kiss in the gardens. He had looked back at the estate before climbing up into the equipage, and she could not help but wonder, hope, that he had been looking for her. Glancing back to see if she were watching him go.
Of course she was watching. She had not stopped thinking of him since the moment he kissed her. Oh, and what a glorious kiss it had been.
He would already be back in Edinburgh, and she hoped he would be at the ball they were attending in a few short hours. Elizabeth strode into the front parlor, going over to the silver salver to see what other events they had been invited to since leaving town.
She shuffled through them all, absently listening to Georgina and Julia discuss their wrinkled traveling gowns before Georgina ordered tea and refreshments in the front drawing room.
"Oh, I'm so happy to be back in town, but what a wonderful masked ball ye threw, Georgina. I'm sure everyone is talking about it," Julia said, slumping down on a nearby chair.
"Of course they are, but I just received word," Elizabeth said, holding up a missive and waving it about, "that Marianne Roxdale is holding an outdoor ball. She states here in her letter that it's to be a reproduction of a night at Covent Gardens in London."
Georgina huffed out an annoyed breath. "She does this to make her event the event of the Season. How dare she compete in such a way and so soon after my own entertainment? It's because I secured Lord Dalton's affections, and she did not. Not that it helped me much since he died two years into our marriage. She's fortunate enough that her husband is still alive."
Julia chuckled, patting the seat beside her for Georgina to sit. "That is quite a callous statement, my dear. It would be best that ye did not state those words again to anyone but us. They will think ye are unfeeling."
"I am unfeeling," Georgiana stated matter-of-fact.
Elizabeth joined them just as their refreshments and sandwiches were brought in. "Do ye think you'll see Lord Bridgman at the ball tonight, Julia? I think he compliments ye well and he seems quite taken with ye, which shows an intelligence otherwise masked by his roguish ways."
Julia grinned. "I may see him tonight, but what I would like an answer to is where you disappeared to on the night of the mask. I saw ye walk off the terrace with Lord Hastings and disappear into the gardens."
Elizabeth had not told her friends what had happened between them. For some reason, she had wanted to keep it to herself, just for her to savor and dream over. During the carriage ride back to Edinburgh, she had ensured they spoke of anything and everything that had nothing to do with the gentleman occupying her life at present.
If she told her friends of her hopes, it would make it doubly worse when he left for London after the Season, and she was still without an offer. The humiliation would be enough if it were simply she who knew her hopes, nevertheless her friends.
"We walked in the gardens, took the air, that is all. Nothing happened between us, and nothing will, I'm sure. We're friends, no more than that."
"Oh," Julia said, disappointment marring her face. "Well, never mind. I'm sure now that we're back in town, and ye have managed to know one another better that he will soon be falling at your silk-slippered feet, begging you to be his wife. No one with any intelligence could deny you."
"I concur. Julia is right. He would be a simpleton if he was not interested in your sweetness."
"We shall see what happens, but I will not get my hopes up, not with Lord Hastings or anyone. I'm in Edinburgh to enjoy the Season here with my two closest friends. That is pleasure enough."
Georgina grinned, sipping he
r tea. "I agree. Men complicate the situation in any case. They make your mind all fuddled and unable to think straight. When I was married to Lord Dalton, and after our wedding night, I dinna think that I would ever think clearly again. A look, a touch, and I was powerless to his charms." She sighed, throwing them a sad smile. "Until ye have a man who will love ye as Lord Dalton loved me, we shall all keep our options open and not be fooled by pretty words or devastating kisses."
Elizabeth met Georgina's pointed stare and hoped the heat blossoming on her face wasn't visible. Did Georgina know she had kissed Lord Hastings? In the future, she would have to ensure she was more careful. The last thing she needed was to be forced into a marriage with a man who saw her as a diversion during a Season and nothing more. A loveless marriage was a state she could not abide.
Her brother had married for love, adored his wife, and Elizabeth wanted the same sort of commitment. Anything less was not to be borne.
They arrived at the ball later that evening when the event was already in full swing. Each of them, exhausted after their travels, had rested over the afternoon and slept late. Now, refreshed and ready to throw themselves into the full swing of the Season, they entered the room, paying their regards to their hosts before procuring a glass of champagne each from a passing footman.
Marianne Roxdale strolled past, giving them each, but Georgina especially, a cool nod of welcome before disappearing into the crowd.
"I think ye may be right, Georgina dear. Marianne is hosting her outdoor event to spite you. Seems she has not forgiven ye for winning Lord Dalton."
"No, it would most certainly seem that way."
Elizabeth glanced about the room, taking in those who were present. She looked down at her dark-emerald silk gown, the pretty gold embroidery over the bodice a favorite feature of her dress. The color suited her, and she could not help but hope that Lord Hastings was present to see.
A voice in her head taunted her that she'd dressed in one of her best gowns in the hopes he would see her, be pleased and appreciative of her appearance.
She picked up the diamond-encrusted cross that sat about her neck, fiddling with it, a nervous flutter in her stomach when she could not locate him. There were many parties and balls in the city tonight. He may have attended another event.
"Shall we take a turn about the room?" Georgina said, setting off, Julia by her side.
Elizabeth followed them, stopping to talk to the guests whom she knew. The outdoor ball Marianne Roxdale was holding the on dit for conversation.
Leaving the small group a little while later, she turned to find Georgina and Julia but could not see them anywhere. Continuing on, she watched the dancers as she made her way around the room before she ran nose-first into a muscular chest positioned right in front of her.
"Oh, I do beg your pardon," she said, stepping back and holding her glass of champagne out to the side to stop assaulting the gentleman with her drink, along with herself.
"Good evening, Lady Elizabeth."
Shock rippled through her at the silvery words. Her eyes flew up, meeting those of Lord Hastings. "Ye came," she blurted, forgetting herself a moment and wishing she could pull those words back into her mouth. "I mean, good evening, my lord. I did not think ye were here."
"I just arrived," he stated, taking her hand and kissing her gloved fingers. The breath in her lungs seized, and if she were the fainting type, she was sure she would need smelling salts right at this moment. His devilishly handsome face, his eyes that held wicked intent, made her want to forget the ball and just walk out of the room, away from everyone here so they may be alone.
What else could he do to you if you were alone?
The thought came out of nowhere, and heat bloomed on her face, not the best appearance for a red-headed woman with freckles.
"Will you dance with me?" he asked, not letting go of her hand.
Elizabeth felt herself nod and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor. The strains of a country dance sounded, and couples hurried onto the floor to take their places. Elizabeth stood beside Lord Hastings, feeling as though her heart would burst outside her chest, it pumped so fast. The man made her nervous, made her all jittery inside. Did this mean she liked him as much as she hoped he wanted her? She sent up a silent prayer it was the case and that she would not yet again be labeled Lucky Lizzie for others here in Scotland as well.
The dance started, the steps taking them from each other only to join up yet again. His stormy-blue eyes bored into her, not shifting to the other couples about them. He was all-consuming, made it impossible to concentrate on anything else.
"I'm glad to see you back in town, Lady Elizabeth. I missed saying goodbye to you at Lady Dalton's estate."
"Ye left early, my lord. I was not out of bed by the time you departed," she lied, having been up for several hours, unable to sleep with what happened between them at the ball. The kiss, the clutching, his moan.
Oh dear lord, that sound he had made when she touched her tongue to his. Even now, it made her want to repeat the embrace, hear it again, fell him against her, in her. This must be what her sister-in-law Sophie meant by desiring one's husband, an essential ingredient Sophie had said was required for a happy and enjoyable marriage.
Desire…
Did that mean she desired Lord Hastings? Was this what she was feeling? She also liked him very much, he was amusing and a lovely dancer, but other than that she did not know him much. Only that his brother had passed, and he inherited his father's title.
"I must ask, my lord. What do you like to do when you're not paying court to ladies such as myself or dancing away your nights at balls and parties?"
"Well," he said, twirling her before setting her back in line with the other women dancers. "I take care of my estate. I have not had it for long, you see, and there is much to learn. I'm in Scotland to look over Bragdon Manor as you know, ensure all is in working order before I return to England."
The idea of him leaving for England after the Season shot a pang of sadness through her. If he did not ask her to be his wife and came to know him even better than she did now, she was sure to miss him. Mourn the idea of them she had started to imagine quite more than she should.
"My brother has said I may move to Halligale after the Season, especially if I do not marry. I'm not a young debutante, and my brother does not believe I need to live quite so strictly as an impressionable young woman ought. I shall have my independence, at least, if not a husband."
"Your brother is very accommodating to allow you such freedom. I do not think I would allow my sister—were I to have one—such liberties. Who knows what rogues are lurking about, just waiting for their moment to swoop in and seduce them to scandal?" He waggled his brows, grinning.
Elizabeth laughed. "What fun to be had if they did," she said, teasing him.
"Hmm," he murmured, the sound making her insides quiver. "With me as your neighbor, mayhap, it will be me who'll knock on your door late at night and ask to share a nightcap."
She gasped, and he pulled her against him, spinning her yet again in the dance. "When can we be alone, Lady Elizabeth? I cannot wait much longer to have you in my arms once more." His words whispered against her ear sent delicious shivers down her spine. Did he mean what she thought he did?
"There is no place here for such rendezvous, my lord. You will have to be content to have me in your arms, such as we are now." Although the idea of sneaking away, of allowing him to kiss her as he had before, was more tempting than anything else in the world right now.
He was dangerous, not only to her reputation but to her ability to deny him. She bit back the smile that wanted to burst from her lips. How she loved every moment of his inappropriate words.
And the dark, hungry look he had that promised everything she'd ever wanted and more.
Chapter 9
Sebastian wasn't sure where the need to have Elizabeth all to himself was coming from, but it was there, as certain as the air he breathed, the win
e he drank, he wanted her. The last day of not seeing her had been the longest in his life. It was totally unlike him to constantly think of one particular woman. And yet, that is exactly what he'd one.
He'd wanted to see her on the morning that he'd left Lady Dalton's estate but had not marked her in the breakfast room or any of the other downstairs parlors open to the guests. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her had she been there. Maybe he needed to remind himself that what they had shared was not an imagined fantasy, that she had kissed him back, sunk into his arms, and allowed him to take his fill of her as much as he'd desired.
He wanted to kiss her again. To feel her pliant and needy in his arms. But how to get her to be alone with him? That was the question.
"Will you come for a drive with me tomorrow? We can travel past Edinburgh Castle or go out into the country if you prefer?" He waited with bated breath to hear her answer, hoping she would say yes.
Her eyes brightened. "I would like that very much."
"Wonderful." He smiled, holding her hand through the dance. He could not remember the last time he looked forward to such an outing. He'd never before invited any particular woman for a carriage drive or to spend the day together. He supposed she would need to bring a maid, but he wasn't so worried about that. Servants knew when to blend into their surroundings and give privacy.
Sebastian reminded himself he was going to all this trouble because he wanted his ancestral home back. Not because he found her enchanting, pretty as a peach and a woman who excited him, made him feel more alive than he had in, well, forever.
"I shall pick you up at eleven if that is agreeable?"
"That will do very well," she replied, smiling up at him as if he'd just bestowed on her a bunch of flowers.
She would suit holding a dozen red roses. It would bring out the fierceness of her hair, make her eyes shine. He leaned close, spinning her and moving her off the ballroom floor and behind a large gathering of potted ferns.