Like a husband took his wife on their wedding night.
Except she wasn’t going to behiswife. She would be Payton’s!
Dammit!If it were any man other than a friend, he would lose his qualms about right and wrong in the face of this intense desire and have her mewling under him while he slaked his lust for her.
Hell’s bells!She had already collapsed against him, her wet quim still resting on his hand. With frustration, he jerked it away, letting her chemise fall into place. Then, with determination, he lifted his head from her breast, just as her eyes fluttered opened. They were glazed with passion, her pupils dilated.
Twice now, he’d tormented himself.And people dared to call him a rake!When it came to this woman, he couldn’t possibly treat her like a convenient canary, nor could he in good conscience crack her pitcher.
Unless...
“Are you an innocent?” he asked. Perhaps she was an experienced female, and all his torment over tupping her was for naught.
It took her a moment to gather her wits. Yawning, she belatedly covered her mouth and then, after a few seconds, folded her arms across her chest again, shutting out his view of the wet fabric clinging to her nipples.
Still, with large eyes staring into his, she remained silent.
“Are you a virgin?” he demanded.
Her cheeks blazed scarlet, which he would have thought amusing if he weren’t aching between his legs.
“I am,” she declared softly.
He believed her.Of course she was!She might be a conniving husband-hunter, but she was also a viscount’s daughter and would naturally guard her virtue in case its loss destroyed any chance of honorable marriage.
And yet there they were. He’d touched her intimately.Again!
“Why do you allow me such liberties? Do you want me to ruin you as you asked before? It would end any chance of happiness with Payton once he discovered it, even if that didn’t occur until after the wedding. Tell me why, and I shall gladly debauch you to the fullest.”
Her expression darkened like a thunder cloud over the sun.
“You must leave my room,” she said, her voice wavering. “There is nothing more for you here. I was merely caught up in the moment. I won’t let it happen again.”
With that, she turned her trembling back to him.
What else could he do?He left.
***
FINALLY, IT WAS THEnight of the Prince Regent’s masquerade ball. To much fanfare, Queen Charlotte had arrived the day prior. Her eldest son loved her for sharing his taste in art and even, to some degree, in decoration. When first showing Glynnis the Royal Pavilion, Prince George had mentioned how much the Queen’s Lodge at Windsor had inspired him with its beautiful Indian wallpaper, its brightly colored embroidered chairs, and its cheerful and lively rooms containing the finest furnishings right down to the wall sconces.
Moreover, the people adored their queen for standing by her husband through all the king’s difficulties and bouts of madness. No one could ever say a word about her being anything less than faithful.
Glynnis intended to have such a reputation at the end of her life. She would be true to Lord Payton, despite burning with desire for his friend. Once she said her wedding vows, she would forever tamp down the longing she felt for James, squeeze out from her heart every last drop of tenderness she felt for him, and she would never allow herself to be alone with him again. The temptation was too great, and always would be.
Lord Payton had been kind and attentive ever since they’d been caught in their embrace. In fact, he seemed pleased by the circumstances and not the least bit wary of her or regretful.
“I needed a wife. You are as fine a woman as any,” he said to her when they went to the tea-room in Preston two days after the Old Ship Hotel assembly. “Think of our king and queen. They only knew each other for six hours before they married, and they’ve been happy all these years.”
Except for during the king’s episodes of madness, and his downturn in health of late!Those could hardly have been happy times. But she took his point. A good marriage could blossom from many circumstances.
Glynnis wondered if she dare speak for a few minutes with Queen Charlotte that night and perhaps ask her about marriage — and love — but feared, given King George’s present ill health, her questions would be unwelcome.
“Lord Payton will be here any minute, Polly. Are we finished? I don’t see how there can be anything more to do to my hair.”
“No, miss. We’re keeping it simple tonight with a nice twist at the back and a few curls at the front. Your pretty mask and feathers will be all they’ll see anyway.”
Glynnis loved the mask. She’d bought it at Hanningtons with money from her racetrack winnings. Its bold purple feathers and purple satin eye covering went perfectly with the amethyst satin and gold dress she was wearing.
