Chapter Three #2
“My cheek stings a bit, but it’s fading.” She frowned as she stared at him. Why did he care? They were naught but strangers to each other. “I might have a few bumps and bruises tomorrow morning from being shoved and grabbed, but otherwise, I’m no worse for wear.”
“I’m glad I came along when I did.” As he spoke, Gregory scooted closer to her.
“Let me see.” When he brushed his fingertips along her battered cheek, a shiver of something twisted down her spine.
“The skin doesn’t look bruised.” The warmth of his breath skated along her chin with just a hint of brandy.
Then he cupped that cheek, explored a bit of her jaw and neck with the pad of his thumb.
“Faint redness and a bit of bruising on your throat, but it shouldn’t prove problematic. ”
“Good.” The one-word response came out in a breathless cloud.
His proximity was quite disconcerting, but in a lovely, exciting sort of way, but it was that fleeting touch which had various places on her body quivering, for she hadn’t known attention from a male since her husband had left on his last military endeavor.
“After the attack, I’m afraid I had one of my episodes.
” Why she decided in this moment to tell them that, she hadn’t a clue.
“Which means what?”
She tried not to make it obvious that she was breathing in his fresh, clean scent, as if it were wintertime in the country. “Ever since I was a young girl, I have suffered attacks of anxiety. I grow so worried and get uptight that I freeze and can’t breathe.”
“Ah, I had an aunt that suffered from something similar. How do you calm yourself?”
“I have a cat. Sometimes petting her or feeling her near helps to regulate my breathing.” As their eyes met, she studied those dark gray depths, but there was no sign of judgment or disgust there.
“My husband gave Isabella to me when she was just a kitten so I wouldn’t be alone when he went away with the military. ”
“Except I’ll wager that very act of him leaving brought on the anxiety.”
“Yes.” With a nod, she clasped her hands together in her lap.
“It worsened after my mother died and didn’t improve when I lost Samuel, my husband.
” The remembrance of being held tightly in Gregory’s arms after she’d been attacked had left her with a modicum of peace.
At least enough for her to pull out of the episode before she’d fully broken down.
“At other times, feeling the touch of another person can help to calm me, but I have been alone since Samuel’s death.
My cousin, Lydia, visits once a week, but she is busy and doesn’t often ask if I’ve suffered attacks. ”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I understand.
I’ve been alone for far longer than I probably should; my position takes up much of my time as I’ve said.
” He heaved a sigh but didn’t put space between them.
“I wouldn’t put it past my mother to select a woman then inform me at a dinner one night that our fathers have signed marriage contracts. ”
“That’s hardly fair to you.” Oddly, the timbre of his voice was soothing, like warm tea had been poured onto her soul. That had never happened before, not even with Samuel.
“No, it’s not, but it’s what happens in the beau monde.” Finally, he dropped his hand from her person, and she mourned the fleeting connection. “Did you know your attacker?”
“No, of course not.” Shivers twisted down her spine as she remembered what had happened.
“He said he would sell me to a wealthy man in India, and that I would travel with two other women on a ship tonight.” Despite being snatched from the jaws of such a horror, heated desire and tension fairly crackled between them.
She hadn’t had such a reaction for a man since her husband, and it was thrilling as well as concerning.
The attempt to ignore it wasn’t working.
“What should have been attending a simple rout to ease me back into society, has now turned into my reputation being called into question because of bad luck and things that weren’t my fault.
” Tears welled in her eyes, and she realized she’d dropped his handkerchief in the carriage.
“Perhaps I’m not ready for such a large step. ”
“Nonsense. Don’t let one horrid act ruin your future.”
Her breath came in small pants as her chest tightened. “What if I’m branded as a loose woman? I heard whispers that people assumed I was your mistress.” Prickles of alarm moved over her skin, while fuzzy darkness flirted with the edges of her vision. “Oh, God, I’m having another attack.”
“Shh. It will be well.” While she attempted to find calm, Gregory made soothing noises. Even went so far as to take one of her hands and hold it. “Get out of your thoughts and find two things in the room that are interesting to you. That’s what we did for my aunt.”
“I… I…” While struggling to breathe, Constance glanced past his shoulder. “The, uh, carriage-style clock on the mantel is lovely.”
“Good. What else?”
She clung to his hand. “That footstool with the embroidered cushion is an odd choice for a bachelor’s residence.”
“True.” A rich chuckle escaped him. “A gift from the same aunt who struggles with anxiety-driven episodes as you do. It is supposed to depict a Corgi dog, but if you look at it with slightly unfocused eyes, it becomes an odd tea stain with ears.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” Though why would she, when she would never come back here once he took her home. How sad that would be, to never see him again? It only added to the crushing panic filling her chest. “I…”
“It’s all right. Don’t try to talk.” Seconds later, without asking permission, Gregory gently tugged her into his arms, pulling her close so that he could wrap her in a hug with a strength that encouraged her to think only of him.
Good heavens, the scent of his cologne or shaving soap was lovely, and how easily she could sink into his warmth. Instead, her forearms and palms rested on his chest as she let him simply hold her until her heartbeat slowed and her breathing stopped being so painful
“All will be well, Constance.”
She uttered a soft snort. “How do you know?”
“It must be, or, you could choose not to worry about everything and instead…”
How maddening that he didn’t finish the thought. “And instead, what?” Needing to know, she edged backward slightly to peer into his face.
Mischief twinkled in the stormy depths of his eyes. “Or we can do exactly as the gossips say and tumble into scandal together.”
“What?” Shock slammed into her chest, immediately followed by thrills of excitement that twisted down her spine. “Do you mean what I think?”
“That largely depends what is currently on your mind.” But when he nodded, there was a decided devilish gleam in his eyes. “What would you say to becoming my mistress?”
“Are you mad?” Shock filtered through her veins as she gawked at him. “Why would you ask that of me?” Did he think her less than he did other women? “Do you also assume that is the sort of woman I am from what happened tonight?”
“I do not.” Again, he cupped her cheek so she couldn’t glance away. “I find you interesting and clever, and if society wishes to speak badly about us—yes, they’ve lumped us together—why not make what they say true?”
Was this truly happening? “We’ve only just met.”
“I am aware, but can you deny the attraction, the desire between us?” One of his light brown eyebrows rose in challenge. “You have felt it tonight, haven’t you?”
“Yes, of course, but…” It was very exciting and a bit frightening, yet the idea of having someone in her life that would concentrate fully on her? How interesting.
“I can see it in your eyes you are curious.”
“I am.” She pressed her lips together, and when his gaze dropped to her mouth, another tremble moved through her lower belly. “How often would we meet?”
“As often or as little as you’d like, or when my schedule will allow.”
Fair enough. “What would those meetings entail? Physical relations?” Even as she said it, gooseflesh raced over her skin.
“If that is what you’d enjoy and since that is the primary function of a mistress.
” He winked to soften the words. “However, we can also share companionship. I have the feeling we both could enjoy that, but I would like to take you about Town, to the opera and other places, have meals together, and all the other things such a relationship would entail.”
What was missing in his life that he wanted a friend, as it sounded, in addition to the physical company he’d already mentioned? “What will you do for me if I agree?”
“Give you physical pleasure? Send you flying.” The grin he gave her was this side of cheeky. “Do you miss that from losing your husband?”
“Oh, I…” Heat went through her cheeks. “We weren’t afforded that much time together for such things, and when we were together in such a way, it was lovely but not intense.” How else should she explain it? “Don’t misunderstand me. What I shared with my husband was sufficient, but—”
“But he didn’t have much skill to speak of,” Gregory finished for her. “It is a common enough story.”
With a nod, she forced a swallow. “Can I continue to live in the townhouse my husband left me?”
“Of course. We should each maintain our private lives.”
“How long will the relationship last?”
“There is no way to know that yet. We’ve haven’t started, and we don’t know each other well at all.”
There was that. “Uh, will there be marriage at the end?”
Some of the amusement dimmed from his expression. “You know why there can’t be. It’s been impressed upon me since birth that I need to marry a woman of good breeding and good standing within the beau monde.”
Because I am only good enough to be someone’s mistress.
And he didn’t even know her history at this point.
Did every other man in the ton think the same?
Or would they if she agreed to this insane scheme?
While part of her objected to everything about that and the unfairness of it all, there was another part of her that was curious about what such a position would mean.
It could very well elevate her in society, give her more power than she’d had married to an army captain.
“Then, since you’ve admitted there isn’t the threat of marriage between us, I am also free to pursue a man who is marriage-minded?”
“Yes, of course. What we would have is nothing more than scandal and purely selfish.” Amusement in his eyes. “Do you have any other questions?”
Oddly enough, she did not. “Lydia is going to lecture me.”
“Don’t tell her, then. You are a widow, and that affords you more freedom than an unwed miss or even a married woman.
There is nothing about it that needs to be shared with anyone.
” His grin was quirky. “Think of this as a new aspect to your life, and who knows. You might enjoy it, and you certainly won’t be alone any longer. ”
Slowly, Constance nodded. “I don’t have any more questions.”
“So, does that mean we have an agreement?”
“Perhaps.” Yet she couldn’t fully agree to it until her next inquiry was assuaged. “I need to know if there truly is heat between us or is what I’m feeling merely a reaction to what happened tonight.”
“Then let us put it to the test.” Once more cupping her cheek, he brought his mouth down on hers. As kisses went, it was a gentle introduction, and as he moved his lips over hers, heat and trembles danced through her lower belly.
“Oh…” Constance broke the embrace merely to peer into his eyes while need she assumed long dormant throbbed through her core. “I suppose it’s not merely reaction.”
He nodded. A dark hunger shadowed his eyes, and it echoed deep within her. “Bid me nay, and I’ll take you home without further incident or protest. We can forget what I asked of you, go about our lives as if nothing happened.”
Except something did happen. Was happening. Her world had tilted and was spiraling. Yet she put a hand into the folds of his cravat to reel him closer. “I’m undecided.”
“Ah, then perhaps I haven’t convinced you properly.”
Once he’d settled her more comfortably in his arms—or as comfortably as one could while sitting on a sofa—he claimed her lips again, kissed her with more intensity this time.
His fingers that had slipped to her nape as he cradled her head gave her a hint as to the strength of him that she’d glimpsed when he’d fought off her attacker.
But it was the way his firm lips moved over hers that accelerated her heartbeat.
When he encouraged her to open for him and he touched the tip of his tongue to hers in an opening overture that had flutters scudding through her lower belly, a fog of passion seeped into her brain.
Before she could lose herself in that embrace, Gregory pulled away. “Oh, dear.”
He grinned. “So? Did that convince you?”
Perhaps I’m a ninny or a fool… Yet she nodded. “Yes, I’ll be your mistress.” Oh, this insane plan had had the potential to be the scandal of the Season, but then, she was a widow and had a bit more freedom than others. “The tabbies of the ton can eat their hearts out.”
Good heavens, what have I just agreed to?