“And a wee bit disappointed,” she added softly, even as she realized her state of deshabille. Coming to a seated position on the edge of the bed, she hastened to draw up her shift, covering her lovely breasts before keeping her hands clasped over the sheer white cotton.
They were trembling.
“As am I,” he admitted, since she was being truthful.
Beyond disappointed, in fact. The ache in his groin was only matched by the odd emptiness that blossomed in his gut. A minute ago, he was set to have an enjoyable time, slaking his desire while satisfying hers, hopefully more than once before dawn. Instead, he would go directly home, for he no longer had a taste for an experienced blowsabella readily available in numerous houses in Brighton.
“Where you are concerned, my raffish nature fails me, which is to your benefit.”
She nodded, her brown eyes seeming bigger than before. Yet he refused to apologize for having gone as far as they had. Their brief encounter had been mutual, and he thought she deserved better than a hollow act of contrition.
Swiftly, he buttoned his waistcoat in silence before donning his jacket.How had his hat ended up on the floor?He didn’t recall.
At the door, he paused only to say, “Good evening, Miss Talbot,” as if nothing untoward had happened, wanting to return their relationship to one in which he could be around her without pouncing, one where he could look her in the eye without a drop of awkward tension. “I shall see you tomorrow at the Castle Hotel.”
Since he didn’t turn to her when he said it, he couldn’t see her reaction. Still, she didn’t speak, so he strode out, closed the door quietly, and crept down the stairs like a true cad, hoping no one saw him or guessed where he’d been.
For her sake.
***
GLYNNIS MOVED AS IFin a dream, or in a large bowl of sticky toffee pudding. Slowly, deliberately, she got off the bed and picked up her shawl from the floor. What a strange evening it had been. She was still trembling with how close she’d come to being taken from a maiden to a woman. She was relieved, but as she’d told Hargrove, she was also disappointed.
Never could she have imagined how intense the fiery passion of longing could burn. She had wanted him more than she’d wanted her virtue to remain intact.
Undressing, recalling his mouth upon her breasts, she removed her gown, then her stays and stockings. If she’d become so stimulated with a few kisses and caresses, how much more was there to experience when they were both bare and joining completely. She couldn’t fathom the actual act, but with this small taste, she could well imagine why men sought out prostitutes to enjoy it and why women sometimes gave in before marriage.
Thinking she would never sleep, Glynnis was surprised the following morning at how quickly and soundly she’d fallen into a deep slumber. In truth, when she had rested her head upon the pillow, the last dregs of her energy dissipated, and she recalled nothing else.
The sun was already streaming in her window when she opened her eyes, and the noises from the street below were rising to greet her. Carriage horses clopping along, people talking, even the sounds of the fishermen on the beach calling out prices of their catch met her ears.
And she had a long day to get through before seeing Hargrove again.
She shook her head — that should not be her first thought. She had a long day to get through before the handsome Lord Dodd came by to escort her to the Castle Hotel for the Regent’s next grand gathering. For despite knowing Hargrove would be in attendance, nothing could come of it. He’d made that abundantly clear. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to marry her.
Somehow, by strolling around Castle Square and North Street looking in the shops then returning to her room to write a letter to her brother as if she were in Bath and to her parents as if she were in London, before taking a light nuncheon and a walk along the Marine Parade, Glynnis managed to pass the hours. She told herself she was on the ocean boulevard looking for other eligible gentlemen and not hoping to run into Hargrove. In any case, she saw neither.
At the appointed time, she got herself ready, not an easy task without a lady’s maid, but she was getting used to dressing her own hair. And of course, she wore half staysà la paresseuse, the lazy girl’s stays, so she could easily tie them herself. Hargrove had already seen them, as had the hotel manager who’d got them cleaned for her.
So far, she had been humiliated and humbled. Shaking her head, she vowed to do better. To that end, she was waiting in the Old Ship’s lobby when Lord Dodd arrived. He looked very good, she told herself. True, he was not Hargrove, but no one was.
And she must stop thinking of the unattainable!
The fair-haired Lord Dodd carried himself well and wore a fastidious charcoal gray jacket over a scarlet waistcoat and pale breeches.
“You have exceeded my expectations,” he announced immediately. “A female who is ready at the appointed time. A miracle!”
She smiled, took his offered arm, and let him lead the way.
“I confess I like how close everything is in Brighton. It’s so manageable compared to London.”
He gave her a surprised glance. “I think everything one would care to do or anyone one would wish to know is all in the space of eight acres in Mayfair.”
“But Hyde Park,” she pointed out.
“We shall add the Park,” he agreed.
“Do you also have a country estate?” she asked when they were traversing the Steyne and nearly at the Castle Hotel. Carriages were letting off those who probably were renting at the farthest end of Brighton, on the Royal Crescent.
