Dare to be Brazen (Daring Daughters Book 2)

by Emma V. Leech

  Nic leaned down and took her mouth with ruthless sensuousness. One hand still pinned her down, but the other was free to roam, free to slide over her hip, up her waist and higher, to cup her breast. Eliza gasped, arching into his touch. His mouth moved down her neck, nuzzling and nipping at her flesh as she shivered helplessly beneath him. Her nipple was taut under the fine fabric of her nightgown and he teased it with his fingers, caressing and gently pinching as her breath hitched. He tugged at the ties holding the gown closed and slid his hand beneath, pushing the material aside and staring down at the soft skin he had exposed.

  Eliza waited, the anticipation almost killing her as he lowered his head. She clutched at his neck, holding him in place as Nic gave a low, contented rumble. The sound lanced through her, straight to her core as his hot mouth closed over her breast and suckled. Keeping quiet under such conditions was nigh on impossible, and Eliza could only pray everyone had gone to bed as she whimpered with pleasure. Nic chuckled, pleased by his devilry. He looked up, dark eyes full of wickedness, and took hold of her free hand, pinning it beside the other.

  “Don’t move,” he instructed her. He held her gaze, one eyebrow quirking.

  “I promise,” she said, getting the words out somehow, though even breathing was becoming a challenge.

  His smile was one that promised all manner of sinful pleasures and so Eliza gave herself up to it, to him, content to trust him and believe that he knew best in this. His hands moved over her as his mouth followed, pressing kisses to her belly through the linen and still moving lower. Eliza gasped, remembering the most scandalous thing that her sister had ever told her might happen. She had thought about it, wondering if Nic would want to do such a thing and… Eliza glanced down as Nic tugged her nightgown up over her hips. The look in his eyes was feverish as he stared down at her and pushed her thighs wider apart.

  Oh. Yes. He wanted to.

  Eliza held her breath and closed her eyes, beside herself with anticipation and nerves and….

  The sound that tore from her at the first swipe of his tongue over her sensitive flesh was like nothing she’d ever heard before. It was wanton and lascivious and Nic looked up, a smug glint in his eyes.

  “Shh.” He put his finger to his lips, but with such an expression Eliza could only laugh.

  “You devil,” she said, and then squirmed and writhed as he returned his mouth to its sinful work.

  Eliza could not seem to keep still and so he held her down, forcing her to be still as he tormented and teased, licking and sucking at the tender bud of her sex until she thought she would go mad. The coiling pleasure built and coalesced until she was giddy, her mind nothing but a muddle of bliss as the peak shimmered into view and she chased it.

  “Nic, Nic,” she murmured, hardly knowing that she was calling his name as she arched up, grasping at the bed sheets as wave after voluptuous wave rolled over her and she cried out, incoherent now as she bucked beneath him.

  Nic eased her through the shattering peak and soothed her as she came back to herself, touching her gently until every last throb of pleasure was wrung from her body.

  Eliza lay gasping and dazed as Nic moved back over her, kissing her as he went, pausing to suckle at one breast and then the other.

  “Eliza,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “Oh, God, love. So beautiful.”

  Eliza smiled as he raised his head again to stare down at her, his eyes glassy with desire.

  She looked along his body, noting the way his arousal strained against the close fitting evening trousers. Well, that must be uncomfortable. Eliza reached for him, grasping his erection through the fabric, and Nic sucked in a breath.

  “Sainte Mère de Dieu,” he groaned, closing his eyes. “Eliza. Eliza, non… No, you can’t.”

  “Of course I can,” she said, watching the rapture on his face as she caressed him. “You only need to show me how.”

  “But, I….” he began, though it seemed a half-hearted protest at best, so Eliza paid it no mind and made swift work of unbuttoning his fall. “Like this?” she asked as she curled her fingers around the silky hard skin.

  “Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu.”

  Well, she was going to take that for a yes, as he was shivering with pleasure.

  “Faster,” he told her, reaching a hand down to guide her.

  Eliza did as he asked and was rewarded by another choked moan that made her own desire flame back to life in an instant. “Eliza, mon amour, I… I’m not going to last… I….”

  She felt the tension singing through him, his muscles growing taut as he found his release. He pressed his mouth against his arm, muffling his cries as his body bucked, helpless beneath her touch as pleasure overrode all else. It was the most erotic thing Eliza had ever seen as his big body submitted, given over to her, to this moment. She gasped as he groaned and shuddered, spilling his seed over her belly in a hot splash she found shocking and arousing in equal measure.

  Nic stayed braced on his arms, breathing heavily, and then gave a huff of laughter. “I did not mean for that to happen,” he said dryly.

  “The best laid plans,” Eliza replied with a giggle.

  Nic snorted and turned onto his back, closing his eyes with a sigh of content. Eliza watched him for a moment, entranced, before he stirred himself with difficulty and got up, going to the wash stand and pouring out some water to rinse a cloth. He came back to the bed and cleaned her up, his gaze on her soft, his attentions tender and careful.

  “Come back to bed,” she said, reaching for him.

  “I ought to go,” he said, but with such obvious regret she only shook her head at him.

  “No. Not yet. Stay a while.”

  He sighed, dithering, and so she leaned towards him and took his hand, tugging him down until he was lying beside her. Eliza coiled herself about him, twining around him like an ivy about a great oak tree, determined to keep him with her. How marvellous it was, to be so close, his arms wrapped about her, the sound of his heart a steady, reassuring thud beneath her ear.

  “I’m so sleepy,” she said with regret, not wanting to sleep, or wanting to miss a moment of this time with him.

  “Then go to sleep, mon amour.”

  “Only if you promise not to leave. You must wake me first. Promise.”

  Nic shifted so he could look at her and traced the shape of her lips, his gaze full of such adoration Eliza felt she ought to pinch herself, just to be certain this was real.

  “Je promets,” he said, and with that she was safe to fall asleep in his arms, knowing he would be there when she next woke.

  Chapter 18

  Dear Eliza,

  Please don’t tell anyone else that I asked but, I was just wondering what accomplishments I might need if I wished to be a teacher at your school? I have been so inspired by everything that you are doing, and I wish to be a part of it, a real part. I have enjoyed helping you fundraise and the organisation too, but I love to learn and the thought that I might share that love with children who have not had the opportunity is exciting to me. I can neither sew with any skill nor cook, but surely there will be children with an aptitude for writing or numbers who might do something different from what is expected of them? Could I not help those children? Unlike your other teachers, my work would be voluntary as I have no need to be paid. Indeed, my family would be horrified if I was. Please say I may.

  I know my parents won’t understand my desire for such a life and it will take time for me to persuade them but I shall, if only you give me the slightest encouragement to do so.

  ――Excerpt of a letter from Miss Elspeth Cadogan (Daughter of Mr Jerome and Mrs Bonnie Cadogan) to Lady Elizabeth Adolphus (Daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Bedwin).

  11th April 1839, Beverwyck, London.

  Nic blinked awake, some sense of anxiety bringing him back to the waking world with an abruptness that disoriented him for a moment. He stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling and then became shockingly aware of the warm body curved
about his.

  Eliza.

  He gazed down at her for a moment, his heart swelling with tenderness as he watched her sleep, the sweep of dark lashes against her lovely skin, her thick hair tumbled in disarray over the pillow. Then he realised dawn was creeping around the curtains already, and the sound he had heard was of people, raised voices.

  “Putain!” he muttered, furious with himself for having fallen asleep. “You bloody idiot.” he cursed, trying to slide out of bed without waking Eliza, which was pointless as she stirred at once, besides which he’d promised to wake her.

  “Nic,” she said sleepily, blinking at him. “Come back to bed.”

  Nic shook his head and tugged his shirt on. “I can’t, mon amour. I ought to have gone hours ago, its dawn already and….”

  He paused as the sound of raised voices came again, rising and falling like a crescendo.

  Eliza sat up, frowning, and pushing her hair from her eyes. “Whatever is going on?”

  Nic did not know, but he did not like the sound of it. Someone was angry. The sudden thought that someone had discovered him here arose, only to be dismissed. If someone knew he was here, the raised voices would be in his face, not somewhere down the hall. He crept to the door, listening intently as Eliza got up and pulled on a thick velvet dressing gown, before coming to stand beside him.

  “I’d better go and see,” she said and then gasped at the sound of footsteps hurrying towards her door. “Quick!”

  She pushed at his chest. Nic did not need telling twice. He spun about, looking for a place to hide.

  “Merde!” he said with feeling.

  “Under the bed,” Eliza squeaked in panic, pulling up the counterpane and gesturing to a thankfully large gap underneath.

  Nic dived to the floor and rolled under, grabbing his boots as he went. Eliza flung his jacket and waistcoat after them, straightening just in time as a brief knock sounded and the door swung open.

  “Oh, my lady,” Martha said, her maid breathless with anxiety. “Such a to-do as there is, I thought I’d best come and warn you.”

  “Warn me?” Eliza said, and Nic could hear the anxiety in her voice.

  “Yes, my lady. I know I let you down bad with your young man and, though I still don’t think he’s good enough for you, I don’t believe what’s being said right now and that’s a fact.”

  “What is being said, Martha?” Eliza asked, and Nic felt the slight dip of the mattress as she sat down.

  She was breathing hard, and he prayed whatever this was did not bring on a bad turn.

  “Why, that Mr Demarteau broke into the house last night and stole Miss Talbot’s emeralds.”

  It seemed to take a lifetime to dress, during which Eliza could feel her heart beating in a sickening fashion. She felt lightheaded and strange, and knew the slightest provocation would send her swooning, which was the most infuriating state of affairs when she wanted to shake Miss Talbot by her pretty little neck. Finally she was ready. She sent Martha ahead of her to allow her a moment to speak with Nic. He crawled out from under the bed, his expression bleak.

  “Don’t,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you dare say anything about not marrying me now. We both know you didn’t steal those blasted emeralds and you have as good an alibi as you need.”

  “No,” he said at once, as she’d known he would. “You cannot—”

  “Nicolas Alexandre Demarteau, our marriage will be a great deal more tranquil if you understand this one small truth. You do not get to tell me ‘you cannot.’ In fact, I believe I can guarantee you that the uttering of the words ‘you cannot’ will be followed shortly by the realisation that I can, I will, and I probably already did!”

  She blew out a breath, ignoring the pounding in her head and heart.

  “Eliza,” he said helplessly. “For God’s sake, love. I won’t have you ruined for me.”

  “I won’t be,” she snapped. “It will just mean a speedy marriage and, bearing in mind that’s what we both want, I hardly see the problem. Now, do stop getting in my way. I must go downstairs. I only wanted to ensure you wouldn’t leave. Promise me, Nic.”

  He groaned and she could see his desire to argue with her, but she folded her arms, glaring at him. “Don’t you trust me? Believe in me?”

  “Oh, that is not fair,” he protested, throwing up his hands.

  “All’s fair in love and war, mon coeur,” she said, blowing him a kiss. “Stay,” she added sternly, before hurrying out of the door.

  By now, the upstairs parlour seemed to be the source of the angry words that were audible from some distance away. Eliza rushed into the room to see her parents rigid with indignation, Lord Pinnock striding up and down like an irritated peacock while his sister wept copious tears on the settee, and her Uncle Gabriel watched the proceedings with interest.

  “Lady Elizabeth,” Lord Pinnock said, a glint of malice shining in his eyes, “I regret to say that your tender heart has led you astray. It is clear that you are not to blame, but that man is a villain. It’s obvious enough to see just looking at the fellow, and blood will out in the end.”

  “Lord Pinnock,” Eliza said, drawing on every vestige of her legendary patience whilst allowing her anger to simmer just beneath the surface. “I suggest you do not speak of my fiancé in such a manner, for if he does not call you out, I shall.”

  “Eliza!” her father said, sharply, glaring at her. “That does not help the matter. I assure you I do not believe a damned word of this… this outrageous nonsense, but serious accusations have been made and we need to investigate.”

  “I understand that Lord Pinnock is accusing Nic of stealing his sister’s emeralds, which is ridiculous. I know that can’t possibly be true, because—” Eliza smothered a yip of pain as her mother pinched her.

  “A word, Eliza,” her mama said with a tight smile, taking her hand and towing her from the room with more strength than Eliza might have expected of her.

  The door thudded behind them.

  “Please don’t tell me,” her mother began, a look of sheer exasperation in her eyes.

  “He’s in my room,” Eliza said, folding her arms and putting her chin up.

  Her mother stared at her and looked very much as though she was counting to ten. Then she breathed in deeply, and spoke again, calmly and quietly.

  “You will not ruin yourself by telling the world you took that man to your bed, Eliza.”

  “But Mother,” Eliza protested, pointing towards the parlour. “That dreadful creature and his odious sister—”

  “Yes, my darling, and were you awake all night? Did you have your eyes on your beloved for every second, or did you fall asleep?”

  Eliza stared at her. “You can’t think—”

  “Of course I don’t!” her mother said with obvious indignation. “As it happens, I like your Mr Demarteau, though right at this precise moment I would be happy to chop off his tender parts with a pair of gardening shears!”

  Eliza winced.

  “However,” her mother ploughed on, her blue eyes glittering with such fury Eliza felt quite taken aback, “those awful people have created some plot against him. Lord Pinnock never forgave you for turning him down, Eliza. We may have been relieved by your decision, but he was never going to take it lightly. He’s proud and arrogant and—”

  “And so why did you invite him last night?” Eliza retorted, furious that her parents had done so when they knew the man was a vindictive idiot.

  “My darling girl. People can be unmitigated arses when the mood takes them, which is more often than one might hope. If your Nic couldn’t handle Lord Pinnock, when he obviously had the support of last night’s guests, how do you think he would fare when he was outnumbered, when the provocation was far greater and came from someone of far more importance than that horrid little man?” Her mother took her hands and squeezed, giving her a gentle smile. “It was a test, love. Unfair, perhaps, but Mr Demarteau was well aware of what it was about and he acted just a
s he ought. I was proud of him.”

  Eliza let out a breath. “That’s all well and good, Mama, but that doesn’t help us right at his moment.”

  “No,” her mother said, frowning. “No, it does not.”

  Eliza looked around, more than startled at the sound voices and of boots on marble downstairs announced visitors at this ungodly hour of the morning.

  “Ah, Eliza,” Louis César called up to her, seeing her at the top of the stairs as he strode into the house. “I believe this creature has something to tell you.”

  The duchess gasped. Eliza could not blame her; Louis was holding a man at gunpoint and proceeded to push the fellow to his knees in the middle of the grand entrance hall. Aggie was with him, her huge blue eyes glittering with excitement. Eliza and her mother hurried down the stairs, beside themselves with curiosity.

  “Catch,” Aggie said as they got closer.

  Eliza almost did not react quickly enough but put out her hands as the cold weight of an exquisite emerald necklace almost slipped through her fingers.

  “Mon Dieu, petit diable!” Louis exclaimed, staring at her in outrage. “You do not throw priceless jewels about like juggling balls, child.”

  Aggie just grinned.

  Nic paced the bedroom, going quietly out of his mind. That bloody woman was at the bottom of this, he was sure of it. She had warned him she would cause trouble, and he’d not taken the threat as seriously as he ought to have done. How, though? That he did not know, but he intended to find out.

  A moment later the door opened, and Martha burst in before he had time to hide himself again. She stood, staring at him for a long moment, her lips compressed in a thin line, before letting out a breath.

  “Lady Elizabeth says you’re to come downstairs at once.”

  “The devil I will!” Nic retorted. “If they know I spent the night here, she’ll be ruined. I’ll not—”

  “They won’t,” Martha said, folding her arms. “Not if you come this moment. Your brother is here. You’re about to get an alibi.”