Not all was laughter. He’d confided that he resented that he’d inherited when only twenty-three.I thought that very unfair, that I should be saddled with those obligations so early, long before any of the others in my generation.So I ignored them as best I could.She could tell that he knew that had been wrong. He had been born a duke’s son, after all.
She reached behind her neck to unclasp the necklace. Firm hands joined hers and took over. She lifted the looking glass to see him in the reflection. He wore the brocade banyan, buttoned at the waist.
He had grown familiar to her, so she did not think so much about his beauty anymore. If he possessed a face far less handsome, she did not think she would notice that either. Now, however, in the odd objectivity created by the looking glass, she saw his features as if for the first time.
An astonishing face, with firm jaw and chiseled planes, and sapphire eyes as deep as the sea. His reckless dark curls softened him, as did his ready smile. She had seen him angry, though, and knew his good humor could not be taken for granted.
He spied her watching him while he concentrated on the clasp. It released just then, and he allowed it to drip down into her waiting palm. “You were beautiful in it,” he said. “And in the dress.” He raised her up and turned her. “It is time to remove it, however.”
He released the tapes, then took her hand and led her into the bedroom. He threw himself into a chair and sprawled there. “I will let you do the rest, so I do not ruin the fabric in my clumsiness.”
“Somehow I don’t think you are clumsy in the task. I think you had much experience and are an expert in handling fine fabrics.”
“I am all thumbs with it. Truly.” He flashed a devilish smile. “It would be better if you did it yourself. You can sing one of your songs while you do, so I don’t get bored.”
“A woman undressing bores you? You are jaded, aren’t you?”
She lowered the bodice, then eased the silk down her body. She stepped out with great care. While she laid it on a chair, she began a song popular in London, a rather bawdy one.
Used to doing for herself, she managed the stays on her own, but it took some time to release the laces. Hole by hole, she slid them out.
It became a performance with her dropping garments at the suggestive lyrics. He watched closely, laughing at her antics. He clapped when the chemise went down, leaving her in only her hose.
The laughter stopped with the last garment. She stood naked in front of him. He gazed at her the way he had earlier in the dress, slowly.
“Come here.”
She walked to him, excited from the eroticism of the game. She resisted when he tried to pull her onto his lap. “There is one more verse,” she admonished. She sang it slowly, quietly, while she unbuttoned the banyan. Its sides fell away, revealing his body.
She leaned over him and kissed his lips, then his neck, then his chest. She lost herself in the way all her senses dwelled on his presence. His scent filled her head. She heard nothing but his breathing. She tasted his skin and touched his chest and held his head for the deepest of kisses. He touched her too. When he stroked her breasts, it increased her arousal.
Lost in the sensuality, lost in him, she kissed and licked and tasted the skin on his chest. She dropped to her knees and continued on the hard planes of his stomach. Not thinking, not choosing, she ran her tongue up the length of his arousal. All of him tensed, but not in surprise. Rather, he braced himself and she knew that he wanted more. His voice, so perfect in the night, quietly told her what to do to vanquish him entirely.
* * *
He threw on his banyan and returned to his chambers. He washed and dressed slowly, stoking the last embers of the night’s fire with memories. A long night. An astonishing one. Again and again they woke and came together until, finally, at the first sign of dawn breaking, he had held her while she fell into a deep sleep.
Still in that bed in his mind, still in her embrace and in her body, he went below for coffee and food. He barely saw the letters he read or the words in the newspaper. Finally, he checked his pocket watch. He would prefer to let her sleep for hours, but it was time to wake her.
He returned to her chamber. She lay in abandon, her legs bared to the knees and the sheet hardly covering her breasts. He pulled the drapes open at the windows. An overcast day meant gray light found her, making her appear ethereal.
He hated waking her. He sat on the bed and stroked her face until her lids moved, then rose. “You should be up. You need to dress.”
She closed her eyes and looked ready to sleep again. “Why?” she murmured.
“You need to pack. We will leave today.”
A good minute passed before she understood. Her lids rose again, this time in surprise. “Have you already checked if a letter came? It is early still.”
“It came yesterday.”
“And you did not tell me.”
“No.”
She did not ask why. “You are right and we must leave.”
“I will return in an hour. The carriage will be ready soon after. I told your woman to bring breakfast to you here. She should arrive with it soon.”
