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As the servants carted water in to fill the tub, he chose a change of clothes from the items he’d left in the wardrobe when he departed for Nunhaven. There wasn’t a large selection, so it didn’t take long, and he hovered awkwardly until the last of the servants left.
He stripped and sank into the bath, wincing slightly at the sting from the chafing on his buttocks from riding so far, but then he relaxed as it faded and the hot water worked its magic on his tired muscles.
As he rested his head against the back of the tub, his eyelids drooped, and an image of Seraphina popped into his mind. He imagined her undressing in the same way he had, peeling off her layers one by one until she was bare except for her stockings.
His cock stiffened, and he cursed, trying to dispel the erotic vision, but even when he bit the inside of his cheek, there was no getting rid of it.
He pictured her plush lips moving as she talked about extraction techniques she had learned from a beginner’s chemistry book that she’d discovered a few years earlier. His cock throbbed, apparently turned on by her intelligence as much as her body.
Inhaling deeply, he sat up and grabbed the soap. He washed himself briskly, not lingering anywhere and pretending not to notice his erection.
Unfortunately, ignoring it didn’t make it go away.
When he was clean and still hard, he gave in and palmed his cock. His hand was slippery from the soap, and he groaned as he shuttled it up and down his length. The inappropriate fantasy flickered on the inside of his eyelids, refusing to go anywhere as he brought himself off efficiently, twisting the head of the shaft with every upstroke.
His breath stuttered, and he gasped her name as he spilled into the water. Immediately, he clambered out of the tub and dried off his legs to make sure that none of his seed stuck to them. No one wanted to smell like body fluids.
As he toweled the rest of himself, an awful sense of shame simmered in his gut. Getting off while thinking about Seraphina made him no better than any of the others who wanted her because of the way she looked.
He needed to do better.
Meeting his own gaze in the mirror, he said, “If I get to marry her, I’ll be the best husband she could ever dream of.”
He prayed it was true.
CHAPTER 5
It was only when Seraphina turned to address the man who’d said her name that she realized her mistake. She should have pretended not to hear anything and walked quickly away.
Mr. Emerson smirked at her, his cold eyes, which she had heard mistakenly referred to as “warm as a summer’s day,” gleaming with anticipation.
Forget walking—she should have run.
“May I claim the next dance?” he asked, bowing just enough to show respect without being ingratiating.
Her nerves clamored for her to get away from him, but she’d been at this ball for less than an hour and had already realized that her reputation was—unfortunately—not completely destroyed. The reason for that, as far as she could tell, was Mr. Emerson himself. If she made an excuse to avoid dancing with him and her father found out, she’d never hear the end of it.
Mr. Emerson might have chosen to support her for now, but he had a poisonous tongue and could easily change that. While she might not mind if he used that tongue to shred her reputation, she didn’t want to face the force of her father’s wrath.
“Miss Dalton?” he prompted, making her realize she hadn’t replied.
Reluctantly, she offered him her hand and smiled prettily. “I’d be honored.”
She exchanged a brief glance with Letitia, who sent her a commiserating look, then allowed Mr. Emerson to lead her onto the dance floor.
The music started, and they took up positions opposite each other. As they moved to the music, she couldn’t deny that he was a skillful dancer. But then, of course he would be. He made it his business to excel at anything that was of value to the ton.
“I must say, I imagine we look rather dashing together.” They linked arms and circled around each other. “Both fashionable. Both fair.”
“I suppose we do,” she agreed.
Mr. Emerson was undeniably handsome. He was also cunning and cruel, and no one else seemed to see it.
He flashed his straight white teeth. “Both so gracious in our performance for society that they don’t trouble to recall we aren’t nobility. Together, we could take London by storm if we set our minds to it.”
She jerked a little, startled. Performance?
She didn’t like the thought of him seeing her that clearly. Not to mention that she had no aspiration to be a leader within the ton.
