Beatrix, and those beautifully painted scenes upon her creamy cheeks and throat had, as predicted, become all the rage. As such, her company was sought after by both the young ladies and gentlemen of the ton.
“I had believed, despite Beatrix having refused you,” the older man snapped as he landed yet another blow to the tautness of James’s stomach, “that you would not give up so easily as you have done in your pursuit of her.”
“I have not given up anything,” James assured evenly, less than pleased at being reminded of the fact Beatrix had refused him. “Least of all my pursuit of Beatrix.”
Her response to him nine days ago when they were outside on the Blackbornes’ terrace had revealed, whatever Beatrix’s reasons for having refused his marriage proposal almost three weeks ago, it was not because she did not feel the same desire for him as he felt for her.
Desire was a big improvement on the indifference, or—God forbid—aversion, James had previously feared she might feel toward him.
“You caused a…situation, at the Blackbornes’ ball, and then had the audacity to just disappear,” Benedict accused.
He landed a blow against Benedict’s jaw. “My sister informs me that the duke’s guests accepted that I had left the ball because of ill health. God knows I was looking pale enough in the face from my overindulgence in brandy the previous week for them not to question that excuse. Nor, I am informed, did anyone comment upon Beatrix’s return to the ballroom in my sister’s company. I also believe,” he continued determinedly, “that if Beatrix is at the center of anything, then it is as the spearhead of the new fashion for ladies which has swept through the ton since her appearance in Society nine days ago.” Every woman in Society James had set eyes on since had proudly displayed a painted flower or another pretty image upon her cheek.
Benedict glared at him. “That is hardly the point.”
“That is exactly the point.” James nimbly skipped out of the way of the other man’s right fist.
“You kissed her that night!” Benedict’s left fist landed a heavy blow to James’s abdomen.
“Did Beatrix tell you that?”
“Your sister did,” Benedict revealed reluctantly.
“I see I shall have to have words with Bethany regarding her lack of discretion. As to my having kissed Beatrix…” James shrugged. “Have you never kissed a pretty woman or two when attending a ball?” he taunted. “And felt the thrill of having her kiss you back,” he challenged.
Dark eyes narrowed. “I will remind you that is my sister you are referring to.”
“And I would kiss Beatrix again, and hope to have her kiss me back, if the opportunity ever arises.” He waited until the other man’s guard dropped slightly in his indignation before placing another blow to Benedict’s jaw.
“To hell with this!” Benedict stepped away impatiently to remove the binding about his knuckles and step out of the ring. “I like you, James, and when you asked for my permission to court and marry my sister, if she was agreeable, I gave it. Beatrix was not agreeable. That being the case, I suggest, as I know you have agreed to be one of the guests at the Shaftesburys’ dinner party this evening, and Beatrix will be accompanying Chloe and me, that you keep a tight rein on any desire you might feel to kiss my sister again whilst we are there.”
His mouth twisted. “I doubt I shall be able to get close enough to her to kiss her. No doubt after the ball last Saturday and all the social events Beatrix has attended since, you have had a line of men outside Winter House eager to call and pay their respects to her?”
“No doubt,” the other man confirmed unhelpfully. “All the more reason for you to heed my warning in regard to Beatrix’s reputation. I am sure, now that Beatrix has left the seclusion of Surrey, that we all wish her well in meeting and marrying the man she loves. God knows she now has enough to choose from,” he added morosely, obviously not enjoying having been thrust into the role of chaperone during the evening events they attended, or when his sister’s suiters came to call the following morning.
James suffered from no such largesse of feelings toward any of his rivals. If Beatrix married anyone, it was going to be him. He was likely to kill any other man who attempted to usurp her affections.
But he would not allow such dark thoughts to dampen his pleasure at the thought of seeing Beatrix again this evening, of being with her.
Indeed, there was a lightness in his step as he thought of the plans he had put in place for later tonight.
“You did not really tell James that I have beaus lining up outside the door and down the street,” Beatrix voiced her dismay.
“He suggested it. I merely agreed to his speculation on the subject,” Benedict dismissed, having returned from the boxing saloon in time to join his wife and sister for afternoon tea.
“You know very well I have refused to see any and all of the gentlemen who have called during this past week.” In truth, Beatrix was slightly in shock from the number of handsome gentlemen who had called at Winter House since she first appeared in Society over a week ago.
Chloe gave Beatrix’s hand a gentle pat. “A little healthy rivalry never hurt any man.”
“Indeed?” Benedict raised one dark brow at his wife. “The moment you try that with me, you will once again find yourself over my knee with your skirts thrown up and your drawers down so that I can enjoy spanking your delightful bottom.”
“Benedict!” Her cheeks having become a fiery red, Chloe now sounded scandalized at having her husband talk of such intimacies in front of his sister.
But not so scandalized as to indicate Benedict hadn’t already done exactly as he described. Indeed, his use of the word “again” implied that he had.
Beatrix felt color heat her own cheeks at the memory of James having done most of that to her at the Blackbornes’ ball. But she could not stop herself from imagining how much more intimate that spanking would have been if James had thrown her skirts up and pulled down her drawers so that he might spank her bared flesh.
Even the thought of it once again caused her breasts to swell and tingle and between her thighs to grow uncomfortably damp and aching.
“Beatrix?”
She glanced up to find Chloe eyeing her speculatively. Beatrix’s cheeks instantly blazed with guilty heat.
“Oh. Oh.” Her sister-in-law’s lips mimicked the sound the second time.
“Oh what?” A clueless Benedict frowned as the two women exchanged a glance, embarrassment on Beatrix’s part, knowingly teasing on Chloe’s. “What the devil are the two of you—” He broke off, eyes wide as he stared at Beatrix. “Has James already spanked you?”
“It was not so much a spanking as… Well, it was more of a… He did not…” Beatrix stopped speaking before she made the situation worse.
“Did this spanking occur before or after the Blackbornes’ ball?”
She really wished her brother would stop repeating the word spanking. It brought forth such arousing memories for Beatrix, she was growing damper inside her drawers. “During. But as I said,” she continued as Benedict looked ready to explode, “it was not a spanking such as you described.” Oh God, now she was saying that word too, and it was causing her nipples to engorge, and ache even more than they already were.
“Did his hand make contact with your bottom?” her brother demanded to know.
She winced. “Yes.”
“Bare or covered?”
“I was fully covered by my gown and drawers,” she assured primly.
“I need to have words with that young man—”
“Oh, please do not,” Beatrix pleaded. “I am sure he fully believed I deserved to be spanked.”
“Going on the behavior you have decided upon for while you are in London, I am sure you did too,” Benedict drawled. “It is not my intention to chastise him, but to share with him that, as just described, the spanking will be enjoyed so much more by the both of you if he lifts your gown and pulls down your drawers first.”
“Bene
dict!” She stared at him in horror.
He shrugged. “If I am to be a part of helping James to see the error of his ways in fully appreciating you as a whole person, then I see no reason why I should not enjoy doing so. That being the case, I believe it is time for our afternoon…sojourn to our bedchamber, my dear.” He gave his wife an inviting smile as he held out his arm for her to take.
“Of course, my love.” Chloe rose to place her hand on the sleeve of his jacket. “All this talk of spanking has made me feel very much in need of…lying down.”
Beatrix had absolutely no doubt as to what her brother and his wife were about to do with the rest of the afternoon.
Leaving her free to think of seeing James again this evening at the Shaftesburys’ dinner party.
And to wonder if she might fabricate a reason for James wishing to spank her again, this time with her skirts raised and her drawers down…
Chapter Five
“Not feeling brave enough to venture out onto the Shaftesburys’ terrace this evening?” a familiar voice murmured behind Beatrix.
She turned to face James, having bristled at the underlying mockery she could hear in his voice. “We shall be eating dinner shortly.” The Shaftesburys’ guests were lingering to chat in the sitting room before dinner was announced.
“Afterwards, perhaps,” he dismissed. “Unless you have grown soft since coming to London?”
“I have not,” she denied stiffly, knowing James was aware of the walks she had often took on Benedict’s estate in Surrey. He had accompanied once or twice during his visit there.
To say James looked handsome in his tailored black evening jacket and fitted trousers, his linen snowy white, would be a serious understatement. The jacket fit him like a glove, emphasizing the width of his muscular shoulders and chest, and the leanness of his waist and hips. He wore some sort of complicated arrangement of white at his throat, adorned with a single diamond pin.
Tonight, he looked every inch the elegant and wealthy—and very eligible!—Earl of Ipswich.
Beatrix’s hands felt damp inside her gloves as she wondered if she had perhaps been foolhardy in turning down James’s proposal in favor of first having him see her as a fully desirable woman and his equal.
What if, while she was attempting to have James see those things, he should meet someone else he was more attracted to than her?
Worse, what if he fell in love with someone other than her?
Ultimately, Beatrix knew if that should happen, then their love for each other was not meant to be.
“What are you thinking about?” He tilted his head down so that he could better see her expression. “Whatever it is seems to be making you sad.”
She was feeling sad at the thought of James falling in love with another woman and her having to be a witness to his changed allegiance. Perhaps she ought—
“Dinner is served,” the announcement by the Shaftesburys’ butler interrupted her doubts.
“Shall we?” James held his arm out for Beatrix to take before escorting her into the dining room.
There were twenty or so people sitting down to dinner this evening. The Shaftesburys as hosts, her brother Benedict and his friends and all their wives, herself and James, two older couples, each accompanied by their unmarried daughters, and three single and handsome gentlemen. The latter, Beatrix knew, would have been invited by Abigail with the hope of inciting James’s jealousy as they hopefully flirted with Beatrix.
Except James, having seen Beatrix seated between two of those young gentlemen, the third seated opposite, had moved down the table to take his own seat. At which time he proceeded to converse with the young unmarried lady sitting on his left and the one seated on his right, and seemed to totally forget that Beatrix was even present.
Much as the three young gentlemen seated either side and across from Beatrix tried to engage and hold her attention, they ultimately failed. How could she possibly enjoy their company when it was impossible for her not to hear the constant giggling of the two young ladies seated beside James when he said something to amuse them?
It was immensely frustrating.
Infuriating.
So much so that by the time all the ladies retired to the drawing room after dinner, leaving the gentlemen in the dining room to enjoy their brandy and cigars, Beatrix was feeling completely out of sorts. It didn’t help that the two young ladies who had been so charmed by James throughout dinner were now openly flushed and giggling together from his attentions.
“I am sure James was only being polite to them,” Bethany consoled as she came to stand next to Beatrix.
Her gaze remained narrowed on the two preening ninnies standing across the room. “He did not have to be so polite they were in danger of removing their drawers before climbing upon the table and presenting themselves to him as the next course!”
There was silence beside her for several seconds until finally she turned to look at James’s sister. Only to find Bethany chewing on her top lip, her cheeks flushed, the gleam in her eyes indicating she was having trouble preventing herself from laughing.
“It is not funny, Bethany,” Beatrix snapped.
“Oh, but it is.” Her friend could no longer hold back her laughter. “Did it occur to you that perhaps my brother might be retaliating to your marked dismissal of his company this past week?”
Beatrix frowned her alarm. “You think he knows what I am about?”
The other woman shrugged. “I believe he knows something is not right in your behavior toward him,” she conceded. “After all, the two of you had become friends before he proposed to you, and now you will barely speak to or acknowledge him.” She glanced at the two blushing young ladies who had been the recipients of James’s company during dinner. “No doubt it also does his ego good to know that some ladies appreciate his company, at least.”
All Beatrix had wanted was for James to see that she was not bereft of choice when it came to deciding on a husband, and for him to choose her as his wife over any other lady, as she chose him.
But perhaps she had gone too far in her efforts this past week to have James see her as an only a slightly damaged and still beautiful woman, and moreover, one who might have her pick of suitors.
James’s dismissal of her this evening and his flirtation with two other young ladies would appear to indicate that might be the case.
Quite what she was to do about that, Beatrix had no idea. She had assumed, when making her plans to come to London, that her seeming indifference toward James and the attentions of other gentlemen would make him more eager to win her heart. The opposite appeared to be true.
As confirmation that his feelings for her could not have been as deep and constant as he had claimed them to be?
She gave Bethany a less than happy smile. “I believe I shall go out onto the terrace to partake of the air.” She would show James she had not grown soft since arriving in the capital.
“Make sure you take your cloak,” the other woman advised. “The snow has been falling for an hour or more.”
“I shall enjoy that,” Beatrix assured. “I always loved taking walks in the snow during my years spent in the country.” The snow, and the cold that accompanied it had, before James’s visit, guaranteed that Beatrix was alone in her need for exercise.
Bethany chuckled. “This is London, not the country. I assure you, the roads will become less than beautiful once the carriages and their horses have driven through it.”
She could imagine so. “Never mind, for now, I am sure it looks extremely pretty.”
Bethany gave an affectionate squeeze to Beatrix’s arm. “Do not give up, Beatrix. I know James to be the most caring brother there ever was. I am sure he will be just as considerate and loving as a husband.”
But would he be Beatrix’s husband or that of some other, more deserving, young lady?
“That is the fourth time you have glanced out the window then at your pocket watch in the past ten minutes. Are we keeping you from
another appointment?” Gabriel Templeton murmured speculatively, having joined James as he stood beside one of the two sets of French doors leading out onto the terrace overlooking the garden where an inch of snow had already settled upon the ground.
James replaced the watch before turning to look at the other man. “Not at all. I was merely wondering if it was late enough for me to call it a night. This past two weeks have not been particularly enjoyable for me, and an early night might help to restore some of my good humor.”
The duke arched a mocking brow. “I doubt your two young dining companions saw anything amiss with your humor at dinner. On the contrary, everyone remarked on what a jolly time the three of you appeared to be having. Indeed, I am sure one or other of the young ladies’ parents will be expecting a visit from you in the near future,” he added dryly
James winced. “Lord, I hope not. It was not my intention to raise false hopes.”
Gabriel chuckled. “I am well aware of what you were about, James, but I doubt Lady Beatrix has the same insight. She looked positively flattened by your marked attentions to those other two ladies.”
He huffed. “I feel the same way when, for the main part, she ignores me every time we meet.”
The older man shook his head. “The childish manner in which the two of you are behaving could backfire on the both of you and result in this situation not being settled as either of you might wish.”
James gave a reassuring smile. “Do not fear. I have the matter well in hand in regard to myself.”
The duke eyed him speculatively. “I trust it does not involve your…previous life of crime in St. Giles?” he finally murmured.
“An’ what’s it to ya if it does, guvnor?” James answered in the Cockney accent he had adopted for the years of his estrangement from his sister and title. It had been necessary to fit in when living in the slum known as St. Giles.
“Then I sincerely hope you know what you are doing,” Blackborne dismissed.
James’s Lady (Regency Club Venus 5) Page 3