Page 57 of A Wallflower to Win the Viscount

He huffed out a loud sigh. Who was he trying to fool? If he had done that, then he would not have experienced the joy of having her in his life and the intense thrill of making love to her.

He raked his hands through his hair as he continued to stare out at the now-empty back garden, knowing despite his self-loathing over acting just like his father, despite the torment gripping him, if he could turn back time he would still make love to her. He would not have the strength to deny himself such intoxicating pleasure.

Making love to her had been unlike anything he had experienced before. It wasn’t just that it was physically more pleasurable than he would have believed possible. It was something else, something deeper, something one could almost describe as profound, if he was prone to such fanciful notions. He had never felt so close to anyone as he had felt to her during their lovemaking. It was as if, for a magical moment, they had truly become one.

He knew it was ridiculous, but it was as if the experience had changed him on some fundamental, innermost level.

But none of that mattered now. She didn’t want to marry him so they would not be making love ever again, and in one week’s time there would be the Atlantic Ocean between them and not just an easily surmounted garden wall.

He looked over at the bricks covered in ivy. That was all that separated them. It was so enticing. All he had to do was walk down the garden, through the back gate, along the path, into her garden and knock on her door. So very easy. If she had given herself to him once, there was every likelihood she would do so again. She, too, would hopefully be incapable of stopping herself from surrendering to such physical ecstasy.

His heart pounded vigorously in his chest as he remembered her moans of pleasure and the way it had felt to be deep inside her as she reached that pinnacle and how his body had been consumed by a greater pleasure than he’d ever felt before.

For the chance of gaining such a tantalising reward it would be worth sacrificing one’s principles, wouldn’t it? She had said she wouldn’t marry him, but she had never said she did not want to become his mistress. Hadn’t she said she didn’t give a fig about what Society thought or demanded? She’d already lost her virginity to him. Was it such a big step for them to become lovers?

He collapsed back into the nearest chair, his head in his hands. How had he managed to sink so low? He had taken her virginity, and now he wanted to continue to take and take? He knew exactly the fate of such women. They were shunned by Society, whispered about, disparaged by all.

Even to think of doing such a thing to Primrose was unforgivable, but it made one thing very clear.

He had to leave. Now. He could not stay in this house a moment longer, not with temptation just over the garden wall. It was now obvious he was not strong enough to last even one short week living next door to her.

He stood up, pleased to have come to a decision. He would find somewhere else to live until it was time to depart for America. London had plenty of hotels; he would select one as far away from this house as possible.

He informed the footman to ready his carriage again, and while he was waiting he paced the drawing room floor, making sure he did not go near any windows that had an outlook on the wall that separated him from Primrose.

When the footman informed him the carriage was waiting, he rushed out the front door, like a prisoner racing towards the open gates leading to freedom. Just as the door was about to swing shut behind him, that annoying cat skirted past him into the house and raced up the hallway and around the corner.

‘No, you don’t,’ he shouted after it indignantly.

It had already caused him enough problems. He would not be letting it cause any more. If it climbed up to any more perilous heights it would have to get itself down. Lucian would not be calling on Primrose to rescue it this time.

He looked towards his waiting carriage, then back into the house, then huffed out his exasperation and stepped inside. He traced the cat’s path. The drawing room door was open, so he looked inside. There was no sign of a cat. He searched behind the furniture and under the settees, chairs and tables. He scanned the top of the large cabinets. He even crouched down to look up the chimney, although even the stupidest of cats would surely not try and climb up there.

But no animal revealed itself.

He rose to his feet and dusted off his hands. It was obviously not in the drawing room. He returned to the hallway and looked both ways, then carefully checked every piece of furniture along the hall, looking under benches, behind sideboards and on top of the large grandfather clock.

Again, no sign of an animal.

His frustration increasing, he looked up the stairs. That was the most likely place it had gone. It appeared he was now going to have to check every bedroom in this damned house.

That familiar plaintive meow drew his attention back down the hallway, and he retraced his steps. Somehow, it had backtracked past him and was now in the study.

‘If you’re up on that shelf again, then you can stay there,’ he called out. If it was in any danger, he would leave the servants to deal with it. If they wanted to call Primrose, so be it, but he would make sure he was not present when she performed another rescue.

He opened the door and came to a sudden halt.

‘No. You haven’t! You couldn’t!’

He stared at the cat, curled up in the corner with four tiny, squirming creatures attached to her. She looked up at him and purred loudly, as if expecting him to be as proud of her achievement as she obviously was.

‘Right,’ Lucian said to the cat. ‘You can’t stay there. Not on the cold wood floor.’

He shouted down the hallway to any servant who was in hearing distance. ‘Somebody, find a large box and bring it here, immediately.’

The footman appeared from around the corner and approached Lucian with a quizzical expression on his usually impassive face.

Lucian pointed into the study. The man looked inside, gave a small laugh, then once again adopted the mask of a well-trained servant.