Treacherous Temptations(22)

He backed her against the trunk pressing his body into hers. She undulated against him with a moan he caught with his mouth. It was purely instinct on her part, but her response triggered the most powerful and startling compulsion to pull up her skirts and thrust into her. For a blinding moment, lust almost overcame his good sense, but prudence prevailed. Although rigid as a spike, he broke the kiss, withdrawing to arms-length while he endeavored madly to will his rampant arousal back into abeyance.

He pasted on his languid smile with an effort. “I think perhaps this is enough for the nonce.” His voice was thick and heavy, an effect of his throbbing erection and the sexual frustration constricting his chest. She regarded him in wide-eyed bewilderment and he couldn’t suppress the compulsion to stroke his thumb over her damp and kiss-swollen lips.

With her bonnet discarded, her hair mussed and tangled, she looked scandalously and deliciously tumbled, thoughts he struggled to tamp down. But then in an impulse he couldn’t have controlled to save his life, he claimed her mouth once more, savoring the most intoxicating of concoctions—wine, innocence, and strawberry tarts.





Chapter Ten


Storm clouds rolled in just as they were leaving, as if an omen that the idyll had truly ended. The rain necessitated raising the carriage top and taking Jenny inside, making it impossible to speak.

Why had he kissed her? Well, it was certainly more than just a kiss, but Mary was confounded what else to call it. With his mouth and tongue, he had stirred something to life inside her, making her feel strangely restless and thoroughly agitated, while he appeared completely unruffled.

Had he only done it for his amusement? Or did he mean something more? Did he intend to woo her? Was it possible? Or was she only deluding herself?

The pragmatic part of her chided herself for a fool to imagine she could ever appeal to a man like him. He was a nobleman and she was a nobody. But then again, she was a nobody with substantial wealth. Both Lady Blanchard and Sir Richard had implied her fortune could secure a match with almost any man she desired…and Mary increasingly desired him. Could he ever come to care for her?

Surely, her money would be a doubly powerful inducement to a man in such straightened circumstances as the countess had implied he was in. Although she yearned for more than a mercenary marriage, Mary had come to accept that her money would be her primary attraction to a potential husband, but this knowledge would bother her far less if she believed affection might eventually grow.

Countless questions plagued Mary, yet during the drive back to Hanover Square Lord Hadley seemed unusually preoccupied. When the carriage finally halted under the portico, he assisted her down and bid her a good afternoon with only a cool smile and the briefest brush of his lips across her gloved hand. He seemed utterly unmoved and detached, as if their passionate interlude had never occurred. Was this how a relationship progressed between a man and a woman? Was this advance and retreat all just part of the incomprehensible courtship game? For that’s what it felt like—a game in which she knew nothing of the rules, and his behavior left her no clues.

Perhaps she had disgusted him with her shameless behavior? Mary wanted to scream out of frustration. How she wished she had someone in whom to confide.

Although the countess had shown great kindness in taking her under her wing, Mary was wary about sharing her feelings with Lady Blanchard. There had been a subtle change in the countess in recent days. She had become peevish and ever-critical. It also seemed to have coincided with Lord Hadley’s arrival. Intuition told her to hold her peace where Lady Blanchard was concerned.

And now she feared chastisement for her tardiness. Aware of the late hour and her meeting with Sir Richard, Mary bustled to her room with Jenny in tow, determined to make the hastiest possible repair to her tousled appearance before meeting with her guardian.

…

Barbara was still in a foul mood when Sir Richard called for tea a full half-hour before his usual time. “You’re early,” she remarked with barely disguised irritation.

“I have an appointment to keep, and did not wish to forego our usual business,” he replied with a leer.

“Of course, darling.” She pasted on a fake smile. “I look forward to our afternoons as much as you do.” It was all she could do not to grind her teeth.

He grunted as she knelt and unbuttoned his breeches to release his flaccid penis. Soon, she reminded herself. Very soon, this would end. Hadley would not fail. He was a superb lover. The girl would not be able to resist him. But the same thought she used to console herself was as a knife twisting in her gut. Had he done it yet? Had he thrown up her skirts and taken her? How soon would he become bored with Mary and return to her bed?

“Why have I not heard anything about Mary yet?” Sir Richard asked as she began stroking him to arousal. “You have had the girl in London above a fortnight already. ‘Tis past time she’s seen.”

“Why, my dear, just this afternoon she has gone to the gardens at Kensington.” She was careful to avoid saying with whom. “And last week I took her to stroll St. James.”

“Why have you not yet taken her with you on any of your social engagements?”

“La! Take her out with me? Darling you have no idea!” Barbara protested. “I assure you the girl can hardly put two words together in company. It’s tragic really.”

“I don’t expect a miracle, only for her to pass as a lady of breeding. It’s been nigh on two months you’ve had her. Surely she has made some progress by now.” His gaze narrowed. “Do you think to make a fool of me by stalling?”