Regency Rumours/A Scandalous Mistress/Dishonour And Desire Read online

  ‘That was not very subtle, was it?’ Amelie complained, tossing her gloves and reticule on to a silk-covered settee by the wall. ‘Will you help yourself to brandy while I go and say good night to Caterina? I shall not keep you waiting.’ Suddenly, the magic of the evening was giving way to the fulfilment of a certain business contract.

  Ten minutes later, she returned to find her guest reclining in the corner of the settee with a brandy glass on the table beside him, his long legs crossed in complete repose. He stood as she entered. ‘May I pour you a cordial?’ he said. ‘Blackcurrant juice. That’s it. Where do you keep it?’

  ‘No, perhaps I’d better have some brandy too.’

  He was laughing softly as he came towards her, drawing her to the settee and seating her by his side. ‘Come, lass,’ he said. ‘Is this such an ordeal?’ From the curved back, he reached out a hand to touch one dark curl that spiralled in front of her ear. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Do I get to see Lawrence’s portrait?’

  Though small, the gesture vibrated through her body to her knees, reminding her yet again how inept she was in the finer points of dalliance and that, while she had poise to spare for an evening in company, she had no experience to help her through this kind of intimacy. She sat, rigid as a poker and almost as aggressive. ‘It’s all very well for you,’ she whispered, ‘but I have not done this kind of thing before. I’m not sure that I can. Is there not some alternative?’

  Uncurling himself, he stood and took her hand to pull her up beside him. ‘We’ll continue this conversation upstairs, I think,’ he said. ‘Is your maid waiting for you?’

  ‘No, I’ve dismissed her.’

  ‘Good.’ Taking her shoulders, he held her chin up with one finger. ‘Perhaps you should stop thinking that I’m expecting you to do something, my lady. You need do nothing, unless you wish, and I shall not do anything you don’t want me to. That’s not my way. Our arrangement will make no difference to that. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  She nodded, unable to speak for the dryness of her mouth and shaking with the realisation that, though she had tried to prepare herself mentally for this moment, she was in fact as unprepared as one could be. She swayed, suddenly overcome with tiredness, with her attempts to make some sense of what she had heard that evening, and with the extraordinary effort at Ham House of holding her emotions in check. She felt that she ought to warn him of her inadequacies, but she did not, for it was in her own interests to make an effort. In Caterina’s interests.

  Placing an arm about her waist, he supported her up the wide staircase as she supported her train, while from the quiet landing a door opened to let a shaft of soft light fall across their feet. Lise emerged from Amelie’s room, curtsied, and whispered, ‘Good night, my lady.’

  ‘Good night, Lise.’

  Struck by the uniqueness of being ushered into her own bedroom by a man, Amelie leaned against the Chinese wallpaper and watched Lord Elyot’s ghostly shadow slide across the polished floor and over the bedposts until his white-fronted reflection halted in the gilt-framed chimney mirror. A low fire had just begun to burn in the grate. She would have liked to saunter into her room as if his presence meant nothing to her, to kick off her shoes and to drop her shawl, to fall back upon her beautiful curtained bed for some moments of contemplation. Now, she dared not go near it. She spread her hands, helplessly. ‘My lord, can we talk about this?’

  In the soft light, he appeared larger and darker than ever, yet by now she knew every detail of his immaculate dress and how he had outshone every other man that evening with his grace, elegance and devastating good looks, how the envious glances of women had scanned him from head to toe to approve the muscled calves beneath tight white stockings, the bulge of thighs and the deep chest that swelled the black coat. She saw how their eyes had lingered, hoping for a hint of recognition from him, a word, a bow, following his progress with thoughts as readable as a book. And how many of them, she wondered, would have given much to be in her place now?

  He reached her, making a buttress with his hands on the wall on each side of her, hunching his head into the great span of his shoulders to look into her eyes, wide and black with apprehension. ‘Yes, my lady, we can talk about it, if that’s what you want.’ His deep voice caressed her, and she recalled how he had said he would seduce her, how he would light her fires, which, had he but known it, were already beginning to scorch her by his closeness.

  ‘You may have to remind me … a little … about how … to … er …’

  ‘Yes, I understand. You are not unwilling?’

  ‘No … I, er …’ The touch of his knuckles moved softly over her throat above the glowing emeralds and, unconsciously, she stretched and lifted her face to his like a cat with half-closed eyes.

  ‘Yes?’ he said. ‘Go on.’ Bending his head to her throat, his lips followed the trail of his hand until they reached hers, hovering, drawing her mouth towards his, nudging and lapping while he cradled her head in both hands, spreading his fingers over her skin and warming her to his purpose.

  ‘The music was so …’ she breathed.

  ‘Purcell, or Mozart?’ His mouth teased a response.

  ‘Let me think.’

  ‘No, don’t think.’

  Half sentences, phrases and odd assorted sounds served as some kind of link between past, present and future, which, he realised, was only to be expected in these most unusual circumstances. Rarely had he needed to be so attentive or inventive, for this remarkable and sensitive woman was not dropping herself like a ripe plum at his feet, nor did she know how to make it easy for him to reach her. And because he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life, he was prepared to take the time, to make the effort, to play whatever musical game she wanted. Her inexperience, though bewildering, was delightful, he thought.

  When he felt her hands slide beneath his coat he knew it was time to do what she had allowed before when she was tired and unresisting, this time sliding over the green silk of her buttocks and hips, sweeping up to her waist with a boldness that bent her in to him like a bow, perfectly curved. And when she fretted at the stiff collar beside his cheeks, he said, ‘I am without my valet, my lady, as you are without your maid. Could we help each other, do you think?’ But he could tell it was not familiar territory when, between kisses and caresses, she searched for non-existent buttons and had no idea where the ends of his cravat could possibly be. Her fingers trembled and fumbled. So, he thought, she had never done this before.

  Drawing her towards the chair by the fireside, he sat her down in her blaze of emeralds while he proceeded slowly to undo each item of his own clothing and then assisted her to remove it as if she was not sure what she might find underneath. Each shoe, each stocking was placed neatly aside so as not to litter her perfectly appointed room, and when at last he knelt before her clad only in his linen drawers with the firelight casting a warm sheen over his very large male torso, he took her silent wonder for a comparison with the much older man she had last seen in this state.

  He could not have known that she had never seen any half-naked man at close quarters, that she had never encountered a man with soft downy hair that funnelled downwards from collarbone to navel as dark as that on arms and head. He could not have known how the sight enthralled her and sent waves of excitement deep into her hidden places, as did the glimpses of his long strong legs with the same masculine accessory. Amelie had never initiated intimacy of this kind before, and now curiosity overcame her shyness, as he had intended it to do, as she reached out first one hand and then the other to touch the wide column of his neck. Exploring with the palms of her hands, she found that the smooth skin belied a hardness beneath, that he had hills and valleys where she had none. Her hands slid over his shoulders as he moved closer and, without thinking, she leaned forward to meet his mouth, feeding on the sensuous taste of him, on his scent and the cool pressure of his bare arms on her skin.

  The fire blazed and crackled as they drew apa
rt, casting a halo around his faultless head. ‘Turn around for me,’ he said, huskily.

  It sounded more like a command than a request, and although she could not have undone the hooks of her gown by herself, the idea of a man undertaking such a task made her hesitate at the inevitable consequence.

  ‘Amelie,’ he said more gently, suspecting that this also was a new experience for her.

  Slowly, she presented her back to him while holding on to the arms of the chair, feeling by the quick snap and click of each hook that he knew exactly how to manage the business of undoing a lady’s bodice with its built-in straps and supports. He could not, however, slip the bodice off her arms without her cooperation and, though he waited, the thought of showing herself naked to him was not easy for her to accept.

  Again, he said, ‘Amelie,’ but now his hands spanned her slender waist while he placed his lips to her long backbone. The silken skin felt like the cool bloom of rose petals. ‘Turn to me,’ he said. ‘Come on, turn round, sweetheart.’

  She turned like an exotic bloom rising through forest-green leaves and sparkling with the dew of diamonds dripping into the cleft between her full perfect breasts, and neither of them spoke, not then, or for quite some time until the moments of Amelie’s unsureness had passed and until he was almost drunk with a surfeit of her beauty. Then she fell slowly forward into his arms and was swung down on to the warm soft pile of the rug where he covered her with his body, raining kisses upon every surface in a release of passion that dizzied her and made her cling to him, half-tangled in the green silk train and alive with the warm pressure of his skin on hers.

  With a deft pull on the cord around her hair, he brought the dark curling mass falling about them, and then they were rolling over and over, pressing every part of themselves to every other part and now, in the growing heat of their ardour, there seemed to be no time left for the long slow seduction he had intended. Nor did Amelie protest at his urgency, for the fires he had lit were raging without direction, and she knew only vaguely how to channel them after her years of waiting.

  Masterfully, he led her on, luring her to let go, to lose herself. He had said that he would not expect her to do anything, yet her hands were already searching the slender hips and firm buttocks under the linen of his drawers, roaming along the muscular valley of his spine and up to the powerful shoulders that rippled with strength. With his mouth on hers, on her throat and breasts, he held her quiet and still, throbbing with want of him and moaning gently through the veil of her hair as his suckling brought her to the peak of desire.

  Caressing her thighs with firm sweeps of his hand, he moved towards the soft tenderness between them and was instantly trapped by her legs, his wrist caught by her hand and held without explanation. Patiently, he waited until she relaxed again before continuing with the skilful touches that opened her to him with a gasp and a cry of ecstasy. ‘My lord,’ she whispered, ‘tell me … now … what …’

  Pulling at his last remaining buttons, he nudged her legs wider, pushing himself against her with an eagerness that made her catch again at his hand, warning him, ‘Please … be careful … my lord…. please …’

  He hesitated. ‘Let go, Amelie. I know. It’s all right, I’ll be careful. It’s been some time, sweetheart.’ With her release, his hand slid over her again, teasing, melting her.

  ‘What … how shall I …?’ she whispered.

  ‘Shh, it’s going to be all right.’

  In the soft firelight, she saw him hunch over her and felt the exciting weight of his supported body, demanding, controlling her, and the deep kiss that followed filled her senses so that when he pushed himself against her, then paused, then pushed harder, the cry that escaped her lips was like a tremble of sound, not meant to be heard.

  But he did hear it. He waited. ‘Amelie?’ he said, looking for the corresponding pain in her eyes. They were closed tightly against him, and suddenly he understood.

  ‘No … go on … please … do it,’ she whispered, trembling. ‘Don’t stop now. Please.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. It’s nothing. Go on. I want you.’

  His lips were gentle over her face as he waited inside her for the tension to abate, for her panting to slow, and for her hand to signal with a caress that she meant what she said. Then he began to move, filling her with each slow thrust, further and further, until she knew that he was part of her, joined with a sweet pain that brought tears to her eyes, though she was not weeping.

  This was something he had certainly not expected. Breathing his sighs over her face, he watched her eyes gradually open. ‘Beautiful woman,’ he said. ‘Adorable, desirable, perfect woman. Now I have you … at last.’ Later, when she began to moan, he said, ‘Am I hurting you?’

  ‘Not hurting … no … something else … I don’t know what …’

  ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  ‘No, don’t stop. It’s amazing … I didn’t know …’

  Still later, as their excitement reached unbelievable heights within all those newly explored caverns of her body, she was unable to control the surge of emotion that came, in a flash of lucidity, from knowing that here was the only man ever to have captured her heart as well as her body, the only man she could ever want to possess her like this.

  Timed perfectly to her mounting fervour that tossed her from side to side beneath him, his pace quickened and took her even further towards an ecstasy she could never have imagined. And although she was rocked by the sheer force of his rhythm that nothing could have stopped, the growing exhilaration stretched her breathing to its limits before sounds and sights collided into an earth-shattering void, shimmering like stardust through her eyelids. Floating in space and gasping for breath, she clutched at him for support.

  Above her, his magnificent body convulsed with what sounded to her untutored ears like a deep groan of despair into her shoulder, though when she turned to look, she could find only his ear, which she took between her lips while breathing in the scent of male vigour from his thick glossy hair. Now for the first time in her life, she knew the completeness of belonging and of being possessed by a man, though she was sure that, to him, she was simply keeping her side of the bargain after he had kept his. He would never know of her heart’s involvement, for by the time she had paid her dues in full, he would have tired of her, despite his impassioned words. She would have to find a way of dealing with that, as she had dealt with the tragedy of Josiah.

  For a few startling moments, his withdrawal left her feeling diminished and incomplete, but not for long. With one hand under her back, he lifted her, pulling his linen drawers beneath her and between her legs in a caring gesture the significance of which she did not fully appreciate, at the time. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  ‘Keep it there,’ he said, gathering her into his arms, ‘while I carry you to your bed. Tell me where to find a towel.’

  Between the cool sheets he enclosed her with his arms, tucking her head into the angle of his shoulder, with the emerald necklace and earrings peeping through a dark cloud of hair like distant planets. His fingers carefully adjusted the lowest and largest gem precisely between her breasts before continuing their own meandering journey over the lovely moist contours of her stomach, now quite sure that they travelled over virgin territory which she had ceded to him without a word of explanation. Even now, she believed she had deceived him, that he would not know the difference, indeed that there was no difference for him to know about. What an innocent this woman was. What an amazing contradiction of a woman. What more skeletons did she have hidden away to explain the phenomenon of being a virgin wife?

  ‘Amelie?’ he said.

  ‘Mmm?’ It was the satisfied sound of a woman sated by loving.

  ‘Do you have something to tell me?’

  She yawned and covered her hand with his own. ‘No, but I do have something to ask you.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Is this what you do with all your lovers?’


  She did not see his smile in the distant candlelight, but it was there in his voice for her to hear. ‘No, my lady,’ he said, struggling against outright laughter. ‘Not by any means. You are singular in every way.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Then could we do it again, please?’

  The laughter won. ‘What … now?’ he gasped.

  ‘Yes, now. Are you too tired?’

  Still chuckling, he lifted himself up on to an elbow to watch how her heavy almond-shaped eyelids opened for him like the gates of heaven, bathing him in their depths and showing him a side of her he had never thought to glimpse so soon. It was a side he guessed would be hidden again by daylight when she was more in control. ‘Too tired to make love to you, sweetheart? Never. But are you sure …?’

  She smiled. ‘Just do it again,’ she said, ‘but slower.’ The deep pools closed with a sweep of lashes against her cheeks, and this time she offered him her lips in a manner that was some way from being virginal.

  ‘So slowly that you’ll beg me to take you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Very probably,’ she replied, wrapping herself around him.

  Inch by slow inch, he explored the seductive curves and surfaces that lay under his hands, about which Amelie herself knew so little and which made him wonder why her late husband had never discovered them. His skills were such, however, that her responses were at the same time wondering and rapturous, shy and permissive, hesitant and then eager, and gradually he began to see more clearly how all the previous signs had pointed towards her ignorance of a man’s body as much as to the precious and erotic parts of her own. Yes, every encounter with this amazing woman brought out yet another facet of her complex character and, just as he had solved one mystery, another one came to overshadow it.