Gregory rose, only to have Charity seize him by the wrist. ‘If you are tired, Hope, then you must quit complaining about it and go to sleep. Goodnight to you. Another game, Mr Drake? I insist we make it two out of three.’
There was nothing for it but to retire as she had announced she was going to. She left quietly, with her dignity intact. It remained so until she had reached her room. Once there she threw herself on the bed and pounded the pillow in a girlish tantrum she was far too old for.
She had been unsure of what was happening while in London. She had known that she liked it. But for the sake of her reputation, she had known that she should not do it again. Gregory had agreed and was making an effort to stay separate from her. But rather than be grateful for his consideration, she was angry.
And jealous. Insanely so. Jealous of her own little sister, who had been showing both good sense and good manners, all evening. And who was, right this minute, alone with a man who did not belong to her.
If this was love, then she wondered why people were so eager to experience it, for it was very confusing.
She needed to talk to Gregory. More than talk. If there was something that made it impossible for a woman to marry any other man, then perhaps it worked the same way for men. If they did it, there would be no question that they belonged together, for ever.
She called for a maid to help her out of her clothing and into a fresh nightgown. Then she dismissed the girl and sat quietly in the dark on the edge of her bed, with the door to the hall open a crack, listening. The house grew quiet, and quieter still. And then she heard footsteps in the hall, and the sound of the maid coming to her sister’s room and leaving it again.
A little later, she heard masculine steps walking to the room that had been set aside for Gregory Drake. How long did it take a man to prepare for bed? She was not sure. She waited another fifteen minutes, listening for the faint chimes of the long-case clock in the hall and hoping for the sound of stockinged feet walking from his room to hers. When they did not come, she surrendered to her desires and crept down the hall to find him.
She paused at his door for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Did one knock before seducing a gentleman, or simply open the door? If he didn’t want her, he would refuse. It would be embarrassing, but then, at least, she would know.
But he was not going to refuse her. She remembered the things he had whispered he could do to her and the things he wanted her to do to him. All that was waiting for her on the other side of the door.
She dropped her hand to the handle, worrying for just a moment that it might be locked, before feeling it turn easily. The door opened without a squeak and she thanked the Lord for the diligence of the servants in keeping the hinges oiled. Then she stepped through it and closed it quickly behind her.
The room was lit by a single bedside candle. He sat up in bed, his chest bare, the covers bunched at his waist. He had been reading. But now the book in his lap was forgotten. He stared at her as if waiting for an explanation.
For the moment, she had none. Her mouth had gone dry at the sight of all that smooth skin covering a fascinating array of muscles. She’d imagined what he must look like, under his clothes, but the reality was far more affecting than she’d imagined it would be.
‘I thought you had gone to bed,’ he said. His tone was matter of fact.
He had spoken to her many times. He’d even whispered honey into her ears. But until now, she had never noticed how beautiful his voice was, like the deep tolling of a bell in a valley.
‘Hope?’ Now he sounded concerned.
She wanted to tell him that there was no reason to worry. She was fine. In fact, she was better than she had ever been in her life, because she was with him. And something wonderful was about to happen. She was going to tell him exactly how she felt, if only she could manage to catch her breath.
Suddenly, she was on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. Gregory Drake was standing over her with a worried look on his face. Then he was crouching, his arm beneath her head, urging her to drink something from a flask in his hand.
She sputtered over her first sip of brandy.
‘You fainted,’ he said gently. ‘Drink. When you are feeling a little better, I will ring for a maid. Or perhaps your sister.’
‘No!’ At last, she’d found her voice. Apparently, it startled him for she could feel the slight jerk of his arm. She smiled hopefully up at him and reached out to touch the hand that held the flask. ‘You do not want Charity to come here, do you?’
‘Charity? God, no.’ Now, he was the one to look faint. ‘I have seen quite enough of your sister for one night.’ He took the flask away, raised it to his lips and took a long, fortifying drink before answering. ‘And if you are expecting a liaison, I am the one who should be creeping into your room.’ He smiled.
‘Am I doing it wrong?’ she asked, still not sure exactly whatitwas.
‘The whole situation is wrong,’ he replied. ‘I should not even know the location of your room and there are a hundred reasons why I should send you back to it.’
He stared down at the unbuttoned neck of her nightgown. ‘But, damn me, when I look at you I cannot seem to think of any of them.’
‘I am glad,’ she said, straining up to kiss him before he could clear his head. He tasted of brandy and his mouth was open wide in surprise.
There was a moment where he still resisted. But only a moment. Then, he took control, cupping the back of her neck and holding her mouth to his and possessing it. It was every bit as shocking as the first kiss had been when she’d had the feeling that his iron self-control had slipped, giving her a glimpse of something wild and dangerous beneath it.
And so it seemed tonight. His other hand was unbuttoning the rest of her nightgown, pushing the fabric out of the way so he could reach her bare breasts. She trembled as his fingers touched her nipples, stroking lightly over their tips before closing a hand over one, warming it with his palm.
As his hand moved, the sensation rushed through her body and she arched her back and clenched her legs together. She struggled free of his kiss and turned her head into his naked shoulder, licking against the skin before grazing it with her teeth.
‘You learn quickly,’ he whispered, pushing her away. ‘Show me what you want.’ She wanted what he had promised her before, to be kissed until she begged. He moved against her mouth and she kissed the planes of his face, the sharp line of his jaw, the cords of his throat and the muscles of his chest. Then she felt the rough, flat nipple touch her lower lip. She seized upon it, trying to take it into her mouth, circling it with her tongue and biting gently.
