She sighed, “All I know is that I have to keep the roof my father left over my mother’s head.”
“Get some rest,” he told her. “We’ll talk about this move over supper.”
The sun had long set when Ariadne, after having a soothing, warm bath, and dressed in another new night rail, this one silky, gray donned a night rail edged in lace and brushed her hair the requisite one hundred strokes before winding it into a single plait.
The looking glass reflected her crisply perfect ensemble as she wrapped a silky robe over her and padded to meet Cedric in his study for supper.
He was seated behind his desk, but her eyes drooped to the magnificent, covered feast laid out upon the Aubusson rug.
“A picnic by candlelight,” she sighed. “I never expected such a thing from you. How romantic.”
“Just don’t tell anyone.” He said as he rounded the table. Looking sinfully virile in his black silk robe, he bent and kissed her cheek; his familiar lavender oil from his bath sent a pleasant shiver up her spine. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
Gently, she folded her skirts and sat. “What is next for you? A sonnet?”
“Hardly,” he snorted.
Her giggling, her dimpling, and her soft laughter prodded him to laugh as well. He filled both waiting glasses with warm spiced wine and handed one to her while he uncovered a dish on the cart, revealing: partridge pie with a golden crust, sturgeon cooked with parsley and lemon, and slivers of toasted bread.
“Eat what you want to,” he said.
Seeing him dig into his plate with gusto, she picked up her fork and took a bite of the sturgeon. “Mmm,” She moaned before she swallowed. “It’s so warm and buttery.”
“I thought you’d like it,” he said.
As she finished the fish, she said, “Before I forget, I told Emily that I’d arrange a version of ton’s soiree for her and her friend,” she said. “I thought it would be nice to create something for the little girls our neighbors and friends would have.”
He stilled, and a dark feeling washed over his chest. “With boys?” his growl came out harsher than he’d like.
Ariadne did not blink an eye. “No, nothing like that. More like a fun outing to a travelling menagerie or a fair. Mayhap a puppet show at Almack’s and a lovely tea after. A picnic at Hyde Park, something simple.”
“I see,” he polished off his plate, she marveled.
“How can you eat like that and stay so fit?” She asked.
“I take regular exercise.” He helped himself to a grape and ate. “Well, I used to, and thinking of it, I should start swimming again.”
She settled happily on the carpet, patting the space next to him. Reaching over, he plucked a rich, purple grape off the stem and held it to her mouth.
He didn’t have to say a word as she leaned in, parted her lips and plucked the tart orb from his mouth, filled her mouth, she saw the way his eyes went heavy-lidded.
Next came a tidbit of roasted pheasant, and she took the succulent morsel from his fingertips and licked her lips. The second time, when he tore off a hunk from a chicken leg, she suckled at his fingertips.
His eyes darkened. “Be careful with what you are doing, Ariadne.”
“What am I doing?” She asked innocently.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dropping his hand, he casually wiped it on a napkin before unceremoniously reaching out and hauling her onto his lap, before his hand landed on her backside. She jumped at the sweet sting, eyes wide. “Did—did you just spank me?”
“Imprudent misses need to be punished,” he said. “There will be more if you keep teasing me.”
“I have not teased you a day in my life,” she said indignantly while letting a shoulder of her wrapped slip down an arm.
Cedric pulled the lacy straps of her negligee down her shoulders, and Ariadne felt the fierce focus of his eyes on her; the way he stared at her was as if he were unwrapping a present.
His fingers skimmed over the petal-soft beneath his fingertips, and drew the soft, tight fabric over her bosom, the material snagging on her taut nipples. The full, creamy mounds of herbreasts heaved as the tight tips of her nipples stood tight against the silk.
