Debauchery and the Earl, page 8
He raised his head, shifting to kiss her mouth once more. The glow of the solitary lamp reflected in his hot, clouded eyes, cast his jaw into deep shadow beneath the prominent blades of his cheekbones. His breath was at least as uneven as hers, but his passionate, sinful lips were smiling with an almost predatory triumph that excited her madly. And yet behind the desire, his eyes held a care and a gentleness that melted what was left of her sanity.
His hand stilled on her naked thigh.
“You trust me,” he whispered.
“I do.”
His fingers slid up her body to touch her lips. “And I am a hairsbreadth away from abusing that trust.” His head lowered, not to kiss her lips but to lean his forehead against hers while his panting breath slowly calmed.
She tugged at his hair in barely understood need. “What is it? You have not hurt me.”
A breath of laughter touched her lips. He raised his head. “Not yet. Not quite yet. My sweet, the door is unlocked, you are one insomniac away from ruin, and this is not the way it should be between us. I won’t take away your choices.”
She wanted to seduce him. She wanted to hit him or stalk regally away. But he gathered her close against his chest and smoothed down her nightgown.
“Is this about Helena?” she asked shakily.
He shook his head. “It is about you and me.” His hand cupped her cheek with a tenderness that made her want to weep. “This moment is not over between us—unless you declare it so. We are…pausing. For reflection.”
Reflection was the last thing she needed. It was the last thing she wanted him to be doing either.
All she grasped was that she had gone willingly into his arms, happy—nay, desperate—to be seduced by him, and he was rejecting her. Because she had done something wrong, or because she was not attractive enough.
His lips brushed hers. “Don’t let it be over.”
At last, pride came to her rescue. She clambered out of his lap, fighting the sense of loss. “I believe you have already declared it so.”
She moved toward her fallen robe, but though she hadn’t been aware of him moving behind her, it was he who whisked it off the floor and held it for her. She slid her arms into it, wishing him far away, wishing his nearness did not melt her, wishing he would take her back into his arms and tell her…What? Anything. Just make love to her.
Only, she couldn’t allow it now. She wouldn’t. And he clearly didn’t want her.
What did I do?
I don’t know what to do…
He drew the robe around her and stood for a moment looking down at her. But she could not bear his scrutiny. She whisked herself out of his hold, sweeping up the book she had come here to read.
“Good night, my lord,” she said distantly and probably ridiculously as she swept toward the door with all the dignity she did not feel. But of course, he was there to open that, too. He even looked outside, to make sure all was quiet before he held it wide for her, and then handed her a lit stub of a candle that might just make it to her bedchamber before dying.
It was the most difficult journey she had ever made. And when, eventually, she cast herself face down on her bed in the darkness, she knew there was no way she would ever sleep.
*
Sneaking back to his own bedchamber just before dawn, Gough knew he thrived on the intrigue. He had never quite managed the feat of having two mistresses on the go, as it were, at once, but he rather thought he would enjoy the juggling act. If Selina found out about Josephine Blackwell, she would drop him, of course. Not that there was anything to find out yet. But when there was, he thought he might tell Josephine about Selina, just so that she would know she was not the only one, that her survival hung by a very thin thread.
He liked that idea. God, how she would cling to him.
A sound from the staircase caused him to dart into his bedchamber. From sheer curiosity, he left his door open a crack to see who was wandering about at this hour. Surely it was too early for the servants to be about?
A solitary man wandered past his door in the darkness. It was impossible to make out his features, but just by the way the dark figure moved, sure and easy and unconsciously arrogant, he knew it was the Earl of Calton.
Interesting. What was he doing wandering about the house at this hour? If he had not come up the stairs, he would have assumed his nocturnal activities were similar to Gough’s own, but the bedchambers were all on this floor.
Perhaps he was reduced to bothering the maids. Gough grinned. He rather liked that idea, for he had just enjoyed Calton’s former mistress.
Chapter Eight
Although she hadn’t expected to sleep at all, she must have done, for she definitely woke up to sunshine in the room and the sounds of Helena moving about.
Josephine kept her eyes closed, just to be able to think in peace for a few minutes. The events of last night never seemed to have left her, so it was not a question of recalling them, but at least sleep seemed to have imbued them with greater understanding.
Calton had not been rejecting her so much as looking after her. And if she had been seduced to within an inch of her honor, so had he. He merely had the experience to know where their behavior had been going and to stop it.
Dear God, what must he think of me? Of my family? Helena is already with child, and I threw myself at him as though determined to get into the same condition.
Embarrassment washed over her in waves. Which at least prevented her dwelling on the exquisite pleasure of Calton’s kisses and bold caresses…mostly.
“Are you awake, Jo?” Helena asked. “If I don’t eat soon, I shall be sick. Don’t ask me how that works, because I don’t know.”
Josephine threw off the bedcovers and hauled herself upright. She washed and dressed hastily, with Helena’s help. They fastened each other’s hooks, pronounced each other respectable, and sallied forth together to the breakfast parlor, without troubling either Aunt Darling or their father.
Josephine’s heart beat uncomfortably fast as they approached the parlor, for she had no idea how she would face Lord Calton.
Friendly dignity, she told herself. Though how that was to be achieved, she had no idea. Too soon, Helena was all but dragging her into the room.
But she need not have worried. Their host was present, tucking into a plate of eggs and bacon and sausages. So was Sir Joe Sayle, Talley, and one of the debutantes whose name Josephine had forgotten, along with her mother. But no sign of Calton.
So, it was easy to wish the company good morning and follow Helena to the sideboard. Starving as Helena claimed to be, she took only a poached egg and a slice of toast. But at least she was eating something. For a couple of weeks before, she had seemed to be starving herself.
Having a larger appetite, Josephine spent longer at the sideboard. So, she had her back to the door when Calton’s deep voice said cheerfully, “Good morning, all.”
Immediately, her heart started hammering again. She did not know whether to bolt for the table or stay where she was until he got there. And then he was there, damnably large and gorgeous.
“Miss Blackwell. May I help you to some beef?”
“Thank you, no,” she managed, keeping her voice light. “I will just have a cup of coffee.”
Before she could move around him to do so, he poured her a cup and passed it to her. Their fingers touched, and as her eyes flew to his face, something small and cold passed from his hand to hers.
“Thank you,” she managed, hiding the tiny object in her palm while she carried her cup and saucer in one hand and her plate in the other.
She sat down beside Helena, and as soon she could discreetly do so, she glanced down at her left hand in her lap and opened it to reveal a small, metal ball. The bullet he had once emptied from her pistol.
Her breath caught on surprised laughter. He sat opposite her and smiled amiably. But his eyes danced as they met hers, inviting her to share the joke. And suddenly, wonderingly, her shame vanished into peculiar happiness.
“This moment is not over.”
*
Josephine finally found her moment to assess her sister’s feelings as they walked together in the formal gardens later that morning. Though they had escaped the noise and mayhem of the children playing around the terraces with their doting parents, their laughter could still be heard in the distance.
“Do they bother you?” Josephine asked. “Other people’s happy children?”
For the first time that she had seen, Helena’s arm crossed protectively over her stomach. “No. I like it. Though I suppose it is a bittersweet liking since it is something I will never know.”
Josephine’s throat tightened. “Never is a very long time, Lena.”
Helena nodded but said nothing.
Josephine was wondering how best to bring up the subject of Andre de Talley, when her sister saved her the trouble.
“What were you and Talley talking about in the hall when I came upon you?” Helena asked, rather carefully casual.
Josephine shrugged. “Oh, I was just teasing him about his growing influence with the ambassador, since he managed to obtain leave of absence.”
Helena smiled faintly. “I believe he fears it means he is easily replaceable.”
“Not our Talley.” She looked directly at her sister. “But…don’t you think he is different somehow since he arrived in England.”
Helena cast her a quick glance, then bent to sniff a late rose. “Different, how?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Like a grown-up, I suppose! When we used to like him because he wasn’t stuffy like the other diplomats.”
Helena gave a faint smile. “We were really only children ourselves in Vienna.”
“Well, he is definitely a man now.”
“Why do you say that?” Helena asked quickly.
Josephine shrugged. “Because he is different with us. With you.” Although her words were for effect, they were also true. Once she truly watched, she had easily seen what Calton had already noticed. Tally was subtly different with Helena, just a little more solicitous, more protective, his smile a little more tender than the merely friendly one he bestowed upon Josephine.
“Is he?” Helena’s careless words somehow bore a hint of wistfulness.
Josephine took her turn sniffing the rose, though it carried little scent. “At the risk of spoiling a delightful friendship, I believe he might have a tendre for you.”
“Talley?” Helena said breathlessly. “I see no reason why you would imagine such a thing. His tendre might as easily be for you.”
“No, it isn’t,” Josephine stated. “Of course, he is still my old friend, but it is you he watches, you who lights up his eyes. Do you like him?”
Helena’s fair skin was pink. “Of course, I like him.”
Josephine nudged her. “In that way?”
Without warning, Helena grasped her elbow in a hard grip. “Don’t you dare say anything to him, Jo. Not a single thing. You must not interfere.”
“Oh, I won’t,” Josephine assured her. “I learned my lesson with Calton. Although,” she couldn’t help adding, “that hasn’t worked out so badly, has it?”
Helena laughed shakily. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you are silly. Talley feels his lowly position compared to yours. Why don’t you just put the poor man out of his misery and tell him how you feel?”
Helena gestured to her own body. “Like this?” she said in despair.
Josephine bit her tongue, being damned sure Talley was the cause of this. Instead, she said, “Lena. If you love him, trust him.”
As she, somehow, trusted Lord Calton.
*
In the afternoon, some of the younger people rode out with Lord Wenning to see an abbey ruin on the edge of a scenic lake that bounded his property to the south. Calton, who had pleasant memories of swimming in the lake as a schoolboy, was more than happy to accompany the expedition, especially since both Blackwell sisters and Talley were part of it.
Oddly enough, the strength of his feelings for Josephine no longer terrified him. It was as if their encounter in the library had banished all the silly paraphernalia with which he had surrounded his life and left only the stark truth. That he wanted her more than anyone or anything ever. In fact, holding her in his arms, passionate and willing, he still wasn’t sure how he had made himself stop.
Or why. For in truth, it seemed the stopping rather than the beginning that had offended her.
When she had left, he had gone outside to cool his ardor in a brisk walk that had turned into a run and ended with him lying flat on his back under the stars, smiling because she could be part of his life. The most important part. She could be with him, his to cherish and protect and love. To laugh with and adventure with…
He could have taken her in the library, and perhaps he should, for assuredly, he meant to marry her. Though perhaps he had flung enough at her for one day.
She rode ahead of him with her sister and Talley, which meant he could admire her seat on the horse, the slope of her shoulders, the slender column of her neck, which he ached to kiss.
“You used to always lead the way, Calton,” Selina Reddington murmured beside him. “Can it be you have turned into a slow top since our time together?”
“Perhaps I was always a slow top,” he said lightly. “And I have no reason to believe Wenning will lead us the wrong way on his own land. How are you, Selina?”
He turned his head with reluctance to look at her and read the conflict in her face quite easily. On one hand, she wanted to assure him of her continued boredom, which was probably the truth. On the other, she wanted him to understand how happy she was with her new lover.
In the end, she waved one careless hand. “As you see. And you, my lord?”
“Likewise.”
She sighed. “I do hope we are not about to discuss the weather next.”
“It is why we parted, Selina,” he said gently. “We no longer have anything to say to one another.”
“Talking was never on our agenda,” she said sardonically.
“That is another reason.” There had always been a hint of desperation in Selina’s passion. He had recognized her unhappiness but never his own until now. “You are bored, Selina. If you can do no more, make the best of a life with your husband. Or leave him honestly.”
With that, he spurred ahead to join Wenning.
His opportunity to speak to Josephine came while they strolled around the ruins and came face to face at what had once been a huge, arched window. Immediately, she blushed adorably, and he wished everyone else at Jericho so that he might finish what they had begun last night.
It was clear she didn’t know quite how to face him, and yet she stood her ground with a courage he could only admire.
“My friend Dornan painted this once,” he said. “At sunrise. I wonder if Wenning still has it?”
“The light is beautiful with the reflections in the lake behind.” She took a step nearer, and his senses rejoiced. But she only said, “Helena has gone down to the lake.”
“With…?”
“Yes,” Josephine said. “She does care for him, and I’m sure you are right. With luck, there will be no need to go abroad.”
“I’m told it is more comfortable to have the lying-in in familiar surroundings with family and friends close by.”
“I would rather it that way.”
He offered her his arm. “Shall we walk down to the lake? Very slowly.”
A smile flickered across the lips that had kissed him so deliciously only a few hours ago. “Very,” she agreed.
Five minutes later, they were rewarded by the sight of Helena and Talley standing very close together, talking earnestly. He held her hand clasped in his and pressed it to his lips. She lifted her face, and Calton tugged Josephine away.
She grinned up at him. “How clever are we?”
“Very,” he said gravely. “So long as nothing else goes wrong.” Annoyingly, for he would have liked to take her in his arms at that point, he could hear voices and rustling footsteps approaching. He raised his voice a little louder as a warning to the couple at the water’s edge. “I believe the others are coming with us.”
*
Cyril Gough, who had been about to pursue Josephine around to the outside of the arched window at a discreet distance, couldn’t quite believe his ears. As he strolled along the inner side of the window, he was irritated to hear her voice already speaking softly to someone. Stepping closer to the stone, he made out her words.
“…am sure you are right. With luck, there will be no need to go abroad.”
And a deep, male voice answered in equally low, intimate tones. “I’m told it is more comfortable to have the lying-in in familiar surroundings with family and friends close by.”
“I would rather it that way,” Josephine said.
“Shall we walk down to the lake? Very slowly.”
Calton. It’s bloody Calton. To be sure, he walked to the end of the window wall and stepped around. Arm in arm, Josephine Blackwell and the Earl of Calton were walking down toward the lake.
Damnation, he beat me there, too, Gough thought furiously. So, it was an assignation with her I saw him returning from last night! And he’s got the stupid girl with child. Jealousy surged like a tide, for he had so wanted to be first to sample Josephine Blackwell’s charms. Now, he could not even marry her, not without taking on another man’s child as his heir.
Although, now he thought of it, he could overlook this if, preferably, the brat was a girl. Because her condition certainly gave a clever man several new opportunities…
He could barely wait to discuss these new developments with Selina, but unfortunately, there was no opportunity to do so until they had returned to Harcourt and he could shut himself into her bedchamber.
“Calton has got the Blackwell girl pregnant.”
Selina paused, her bonnet suspended from one hand. “He’s what?” She turned slowly to face him, looking oddly haggard in the beam of sunshine from the window. “Why ever would you think that?”
