Chapter 14 #2
They walked in silence through her dressing room and bedroom to the luxurious boudoir where a table had been laid with linen and china.
Beth helped herself to perfect eggs and a crisp, fresh bread roll.
Her nerves had been so overwrought in recent days she had eaten little.
The present moment was not perhaps the most comfortable of her life, but like most feared events, it was easier to handle when arrived at.
Considering the traps to be found in the most innocent conversation she was happy to follow his example and eat in silence. When her hunger was satisfied, though, the silence began to weigh on her.
She fidgeted with the new, unaccustomed wedding ring. “For how long, my lord, do we live here in seclusion?”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Until, I think, you call me Lucien.”
Beth met his eyes. “You really must learn not to challenge me, Lord Arden. We are likely to become the hermits of Marlborough Square.”
“You refuse to use my given name?”
“Under those terms, yes.”
He studied her then turned on his most glittering smile.
“Please, my dear Beth,” he said softly, “will you call me Lucien?”
“Yes, Lucien, I will,” replied Beth in her best schoolmistress’s voice, hoping it disguised the way her pulse had speeded under his attentions.
The marquess set his elbows on the table and rested his shapely chin on his hands. His blue eyes were bright and mischievous. “Is that the key to your heart, my blushing rose? Please, my perfumed paradise, my angel of delight, come sit on my lap and kiss me.”
Beth eyed him warily and tried to deny the turmoil his words stirred in her. “No.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It was worth a try. I think I’ll wait for you to seduce me.”
“In that case there are unlikely to be heirs to the glory of the de Vaux.”
“We shall see.” He rose and stretched. “Now, having solved the name problem, it is time for us to leave and spend a few days at Hartwell.”
“Hartwell?”
“Don’t worry. It’s not Louis le Désiré’s miniature Versailles in Buckinghamshire. It’s my country estate in Surrey. Just a small place, a cottage ornée. Only a handful of servants. We can relax in bucolic isolation.”
“And after that?” asked Beth.
“After that we really should return for the remainder of the Season. We need to establish your place in Society, but I promise not to run you ragged as my mother did.”
“You most certainly will not,” said Beth also rising. “Please stop treating me like a child, my … Lucien. I will arrange my own social life.”
“To a point. Be fair, Beth. You still need some guidance on managing in Society.”
Beth didn’t feel fair, but she was forced to agree. “Very well. And now, my lord … Lucien, my darling,” she corrected, causing a laugh, “I must summon Redcliff. Unless you intend to be my maid today as well.”
Her unwary tongue had betrayed her again, and Beth saw the glitter in his eyes with alarm.
He came over and began to unfasten the pearl clusters down the front of the wrap, his attention completely focused on his task.
Beth looked at his handsome face blankly and wondered what she should do, what she wanted to do.
He slid his hands beneath the satin and pushed the wrap off her shoulders. His hands were hot against her skin. The garment slithered into a snowy pool on the carpet, and Beth was intensely grateful she had put on the nightgown. It still provided a decent covering.
His fingers rose to the three buttons which fastened it to the scooped and filled neckline. Beth’s hand came up to stop him.
He looked up, amused eyes challenging her.
“A maid would never leave my wrap lying on the floor.”
“Whatever made you think I was a maid?” he asked. In a single movement, he swept her hands behind her and trapped them. Just like that terrible night and yet so different. Beth might be nervous and uncertain, but she felt no fear.
He placed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose and Beth jerked back, wriggling in his grasp. “Let go of me! You said you’d wait for me to seduce you.”
He released her hands but wrapped his arms around her so she was still helpless. “Ah, but do you know what seduction is?” he asked. “You’ve made a prodigious start, I’ll grant you. Provocative remarks are a wonderful beginning….”
“I did not—” Her protests were stopped with a kiss.
When he raised his lips Beth tried again, “I—” and was stopped again.
The next time he raised his lips she wisely remained silent. She doubted her ability to be coherent in any case. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating with an energy she had never experienced before, an energy which burnt away thought like the sun burning away a morning mist.
“…but you have to know what to do next,” he completed. “Also,” he added softly, “you have to know you want the prize.” He lowered his head for another kiss.
This time he did not merely seal her lips. This time he gently teased them open and she felt his tongue upon hers for the first time. She moaned, but whether it was protest or delight she could not have said. Nothing in any book had prepared her for this.
She could feel the heat of his hands through the thin silk, one between her shoulder blades, one lower, in the small of her back, rubbing in small circles which pressed her against his body.
The rough texture of his damask robe fretted her skin through the fine silk, and her nipples, ah, her nipples had developed a life of their own.
She inhaled the aroma of soap and something more—something warm, spicy, and dangerous.
The scent of a man.
Instinct drove her to open her mouth to further invasion. She felt fingers trace up to thread through her curls, sending shivers down her spine to weave with the magic of his other hand. A fever spread throughout her body. She surrendered utterly, her hands clutching at his robe.
Eventually his mouth released hers. She shuddered and rested her swimming head on his shoulder, feeling his hand stroke over her hair.
“Beth?” he asked softly.