One Winter's Night, page 12
No one had ever asked such questions before. “Well, I shall inherit everything my grandfather owns, and so have no need to find a husband willing to take an impulsive and untamed bride.”
“Should you ever wish to marry, you’ll have no issue finding a husband. Lord Flanders might well ask for your hand once the clock strikes midnight.”
Lord Flanders!
The gentleman in question was pouring brandy into the bowl Miss Harper had placed on the side table, giggling like a schoolboy ready to play a trick on his housemaster. Though friendly and kindhearted, Lord Flanders lacked the earl’s rugged, masculine appeal.
“Why midnight?”
“Flanders must wait until I’ve made my choice before considering his own marital status.”
“And have you made a decision, my lord?” Heaven knows why she asked as she couldn’t bear to hear him speak another woman’s name.
“A man in my position must choose wisely,” came his cryptic reply. “Trust must play an important part in any relationship, Miss Bennett, although I shan’t make my choice tonight.”
She got the sense he was teasing her, but Miss Harper interrupted their conversation to drag the earl away and request he be the one to light the brandy with the taper.
“Snuff out the candles, Miss Bennett.” Miss Harper flicked her fingers as if instructing the hired help. Had Lara not seen the look of anguish on Lord Denham’s face when he realised he would be standing next to Miss Harper in the dark, she might have protested.
Lord Flanders assisted in plunging the room into blackness, and they all gathered around the table ready to take a turn at plucking out a piece of candied fruit. The eerie effect of the blue flames dancing on top of the liquor drew gasps of wonder from the female guests.
“You first, Lord Flanders,” Miss Harper insisted. “If you snatch a piece and swallow it, I’m sure one kind lady will grant you another kiss under the mistletoe. What say you, Miss Bennett?”
If Miss Harper continued with her taunts, Lara might dunk the chit’s head into the brandy bowl. “Surely a kiss from our substitute hostess is a more fitting reward.”
Everyone took their turn and played the game with good cheer. The viscount clearly misunderstood the rules. Lara had to snatch the rogue’s wandering hands off her buttocks and squeeze his fingers in a vice-like grip as a warning. It seemed his sister used the darkness to her advantage, too. Numerous times, the earl muttered beneath his breath only for the sly shrew to offer a lighthearted apology.
Lara was rather glad when the footman returned to light the candles, despite having to listen to Lord Flanders’ constant whines about his burnt tongue.
While Miss Harper tried to gather everyone around the mistletoe again, many guests expressed a wish to retire after such a long day. With an air of boredom about him, the viscount was the first to leave. Miss Venables was hot on his heels, explaining that she would check the maid had turned down Miss Harper’s bed and positioned the warming pan in just the right place to heat the toes.
Nonsense!
The woman had stared doe-eyed at the viscount all night.
One by one, the guests retired until Lara and Lord Denham were left in the drawing room with Miss Harper lingering like a bad smell. Unable to bear the lady’s company a moment longer, Lara bid them both good night and headed for the door.
“Miss Bennett, wait.” Lord Denham crossed the room. “There are matters of some urgency I would discuss with you.” His handsome blue eyes begged her not to leave him alone with the vixen. “It concerns your grandfather.”
“Can it not wait until the morning?” she said—retribution for his earlier teasing.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds. “I would rather we spoke now. Can you not pander to a man on his birthday?”
Lara inclined her head while Miss Harper narrowed her gaze and scowled at her behind the earl’s back. “Very well. As long as you’re brief, my lord. It’s been a tiring day.” While the thought of being alone with Lord Denham left her knees weak, she wouldn’t give Miss Harper cause to be spiteful.
Relief shone in Lord Denham’s eyes. He turned to Miss Harper. “Good night, Miss Harper. For obvious reasons, there’ll be no hunting tomorrow, so perhaps you might think of other entertaining games to occupy our time.”
The lady’s eyes gleamed like a bawd’s who’d opened her door to find a queue of wealthy gentlemen. “I have many talents, my lord, and know how to rouse enjoyment in those willing to partake.”
Miss Harper couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d tried. She sounded more the desperate harpy than seductive temptress.
“Indeed.” Lord Denham hovered awkwardly. “Well, good night, Miss Harper.” He turned to Lara. “We may speak in the hall. Crudging has wool in his ears when it comes to discussions of a personal nature.”
No doubt the comment was meant to create an air of propriety, though as soon as Miss Harper had mounted the stairs—with an exaggerated sway of the hips worthy of a courtesan—Lord Denham ushered Lara into his study and closed the door.
Instantly, the air came alive with an energetic vibrancy.
In the masculine room, illuminated only by the candle lamp on the large mahogany desk and the glow of the fire, her thoughts turned to kissing. Perhaps he thought of kissing, too, as he strode over to the drinks tray and poured them both a glass of port before returning to stand only a foot away.
She took hold of the crystal stem, clinked his glass and sipped the burgundy liquid.
Lord Denham’s shoulders relaxed, and he studied her over the rim of his glass as he swallowed the fortified wine.
“You wished to discuss my grandfather,” she said by means of a distraction, for the electrifying energy in the room left her breathless. “Or is it merely that you feared Miss Harper might back you into a corner and devour your helpless body?”
“There is only one woman who will ever devour my body, and it is not Miss Harper.”
Heat swirled in Lara’s stomach. He stood so close she could smell the rich port on his breath, smell the earthy, intoxicating scent that stirred the senses and made her want to press her lips to his skin. “Did you bring me in here to seduce me, Lord Denham?” Having lied to him once, it was better to be direct.
Mischief danced in his bright blue eyes. “While I intended to discuss matters relating to the case, to inform you of recent developments regarding the viscount’s affairs, being alone in a room with you, Miss Bennett, sends all logical thoughts scattering.”
His unwavering honesty must be the reason he’d been so hurt by her charade. It was the reason she needed to convey an honesty of her own. “It’s difficult for me to rouse a rational thought when all I can think about is the last time we kissed.”
His breath hitched, and he moistened his lips before saying, “Perhaps we should stop thinking. Perhaps I should refresh your memory.”
Lara swallowed the rest of her port to banish her nerves. She snatched the glass from his grasp and strode over to place them both on the mantel. Then she turned and prowled towards the earl, pushing him back against the desk, making him perch on the edge.
“Open your legs, Lord Denham.” She offered a sultry smile.
“Why, whatever do you intend to do?”
“It will allow me to step that bit closer with a view to keeping you warm.” When he parted his muscular thighs, she stepped into the space and threaded her arms around his neck. “I will never lie to you again.” She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. “I’m a lady who follows her heart, not her mind, and certainly not her conscience.” She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. “You rouse reactions in my body I never thought possible. You do things to my mind that leave me craving your touch.” When she kissed him again, she slipped her tongue into his mouth.
A guttural groan rumbled in his throat. Before she knew what was happening, he locked her in an embrace.
And then he was everywhere.
One hand caressed her back, dipped to massage her buttocks. The other hand cupped her nape, his thumb stroking the delicate skin below her ear. His wicked mouth devoured hers in a searing kiss, hot enough to melt a mountain of snow.
“Heaven help me, Lara, you drive me insane.” He rained kisses down the column of her throat, wrapped both arms around her waist, bent his head and drew his lips over the exposed swell of her breasts.
“Hugo.” She pushed her hands into his hair and gripped hard. Lord, her nipples ached for release from their restrictive confines. Her sex took command of her mind, begging for the pleasure she’d heard talk of so often. “Do something, something to ease this all-consuming longing.”
He raised his head, the sinful smile casting a devilish glint in his eyes. “If I’m to touch you so scandalously, Miss Bennett, then I must make you my wife.”
“Let us not talk of that now.” Passion confused the mind, stole one’s rationale. “I expect nothing other than the feel of your lips on mine.”
“That won’t ease the ache,” he said, although that didn’t stop him capturing her mouth in a kiss that was as confident and as self-assured as him.
He continued the sensual assault, delving so deep as to taste every inch of her mouth. When his large hand gathered up her skirts and edged up past her stocking to stroke her bare thigh, she couldn’t help but moan with anticipation.
It was the same lustful anticipation that saw her run her hands over his chest and thighs.
“Grip my lapels and don’t let go,” he said, dragging his mouth from hers. “I want to watch you when your body shudders with pleasure.”
“Lord Denham!” The salacious comment roused shock and excitement. “Whatever do you mean to do?”
“I mean to do this, Miss Bennett.” His fingers brushed over her sex to leave a scorching trail in their wake. “As many times as it takes for you to find your release.”
“Good Lord.” She closed her eyes. The slightest touch left her panting, wanting more. Indeed, he did not disappoint. He slid his fingers back and forth in an achingly sensual rhythm. The more he played her, the more the coil inside tightened. Like a wanton, she couldn’t help but jerk her hips and rub against his hand.
“Better than any form of enjoyment one might find in a parlour game?” he teased.
Lara gathered the strength to look at him. Oh, he seemed thoroughly pleased with himself, and so she drew her hand down his chest, down over the solid bulge in his breeches.
“Christ!” His eyes glazed, and he lost his rhythm for a moment. “This is about your climax, not mine.”
“Do you not seek pleasure, my lord?”
“Watching you gasp and writhe is pleasure enough.” His fingers grazed over her entrance. “Do you want to feel my fingers inside you, Lara?”
Heavens, a sudden rush of desire stole her breath.
“You must give your permission,” he continued, massaging and teasing her sex until she was panting. “You must speak honestly.”
If he wanted honesty, she would give it to him. “I want you, Hugo de Wold, and will take anything you’re willing to give.”
He hummed, deep and throaty, as he slipped one, then two fingers inside her. Mother of all saints. The feel of him stroking her sensitive skin was her undoing. The coil snapped, and she came apart in his hands, shaking and trembling as delicious waves of ecstasy flooded her body.
Aware that he watched her with intense fascination, she kissed him on the lips, drew on their mingled breath to refill her lungs.
“What can I do for you?” she said, trying to calm the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The realisation that she wanted this man in every conceivable way took root.
“Lara, that’s enough for tonight, else I fear I’ll cover your body in seconds and make love to you as I’ve wanted to since the first night we met.”
“And what if I need you to touch me again?” She loved teasing a reaction.
“Then all you need do is ask.” He cupped her nape and drew her into another kiss. This time, she felt an outpouring of emotion as their tongues tangled. “I could keep you here forever,” he whispered against her mouth, “but we must return to our respective rooms else Montague will use me for target practice.”
Lara straightened. She still felt a little giddy as she stepped out of his embrace. “You’ve yet to tell me the news about the viscount.”
From his ragged breathing, and the way he devoured her with his arresting eyes, the viscount was the last thing on his mind.
He sighed, pushed a lock of hair from his brow and said, “If Northcott’s shipping venture fails, he faces bankruptcy. And my mother’s lady’s maid witnessed Miss Venables at the gate the night Bertie was murdered.”
“Good Lord. Perhaps if you question her, she might confess and tell you all she knows. I speak of Miss Venables, not the maid.”
“We’ll discuss it at greater length tomorrow.” His gaze dipped to her décolletage. “Presently, the more time we spend alone in this room, the more I must fight the need to ravish you.”
Desire burned at the thought of his hands working their magic, of his tongue leaving a scorching trail across the swell of her breasts. “Then you may escort me to the landing and no further, lest you give in to temptation.”
The journey from the study to the top of the staircase took longer than expected. The earl stopped every third step to press another kiss to her lips. He said good night on the landing, a long, lingering good night that would see them wed if Montague caught them. The distance between them seemed cavernous when he stood and watched her navigate the dimly lit corridor back to her chamber.
When passing her grandfather’s room, she heard an almighty thud followed by a sudden shriek. Panicked, she beckoned the earl.
“I heard noises coming from my grandfather’s chamber. He tends to fall out of bed after a night spent drinking copious amounts of brandy.”
Lord Denham pressed his ear to the door. The look of concentration on his face turned to one of shock and then embarrassment. He flew back as if he’d scorched his cheek.
“Let’s just say that your grandfather is not alone in his room. My mother seems to have taken her role of mistress quite seriously and is testing out the comfort of his mattress.”
“Gracious.” Lara slapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a chuckle. Once composed, she said, “The sly, old devil.”
“I would open the door and check all is well, but then you’d have to gouge out my eyes with a hot poker.” An amused grin stretched the width of his handsome face.
“Well, it has certainly been a memorable birthday, my lord.”
He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “Deliciously memorable, Miss Bennett. You know where my room is should you have further need of my services.” With that, he gave a deep bow and retreated down the corridor.
Lara’s heart sighed.
She was more than a little in love with Lord Denham. While so physically irresistible she almost melted in his company, his wit and compassion teased her senses just as much. And those sinful hands—heavens she’d never experienced such exhilarating rapture. He was a wicked devil. A divine angel. The man drove her to the wild heights of ecstasy, cradled her gently as she came back down.
Indeed, she recalled the sheer joy of being in his arms as she floated to her room. As she swept into her chamber ready to waltz around the floor in a state of euphoria, the sight of her shredded red dress scattered about the floor stopped her dead in her tracks.
Chapter Thirteen
During the brief walk to his bedchamber, Hugo wallowed in the memory of Miss Bennett panting his name and gripping his lapels as she found her release. Every toned muscle in his body wrung tight with the need to make love to her. Restraint was something one learned when inheriting an earldom, but he’d been so close to laying her down on the desk, to thrusting deep into the only place he belonged.
Had it not been for the ridiculous promise made to his mother, he would have asked for her hand tonight. But when he took Miss Bennett for his wife, she would know that he had not plucked a name simply to satisfy Lady Denham’s need for an heir. She would know that she was the woman he wanted to love for the rest of his life.
When he entered his bedchamber, his mind was still floating in the clouds, which was why he failed to notice the naked woman sprawled in his poster bed until she came up onto her knees and bid him good evening.
Damn the devil to hell!
He almost tripped over his shoes in shock.
“Don’t act so surprised, Lord Denham.” Miss Harper clutched the coverlet to her breasts while exposing the curve of her bare hip. “You more or less invited me here when you asked me to think of other interesting games to play. Here I am, with a game I’m sure we will both enjoy.”
Had the lady lost her mind?
“I was referring to snapdragon.” Though he was likely to get equally burnt if caught in the middle of this scenario. “Not sport between the bed sheets.”
“Every man wants a wife who can please him in bed.” Miss Harper let the coverlet slip to reveal one pert pink nipple. “I’m sure you’ll find me more than satisfactory in that department.”
Her confidence implied she’d taken a man to her bed before. “An earl must marry a virgin, Miss Harper.” Hugo didn’t believe that for a second, but he’d say anything to get rid of this woman. “Boasting of your skill leads me to believe you’ve had intimate relations before.”
The lady gave a mocking snort. “Have no fear. You’ll find me intact. All you need do is let me pleasure you. Once satisfied—and I guarantee you will be—you will see that I’m the only lady you should choose as your bride.”
“I’m not inclined to marry any of the ladies my mother invited.”
“That’s because you’re thinking with your brain. Some men need a little encouragement. Let me tease another part of your anatomy into action.”
Miss Harper had an answer for everything. The time had passed to solve this dilemma with polite conversation.
“Miss Harper,” he began in the tone of a strict schoolmaster, “I did not invite you here, nor do I have any intention of partaking in an illicit liaison with you. Get dressed and leave this room this instant, else I shall be certain to mention your lack of morals to your brother.”
