Chapter Nine
“Would you care to stroll through the gardens?” Samuel asked once they entered the salon, and the uncertainty in his voice astounded her. The Samuel she once knew was never unsure of himself when it came to her. Perhaps her unusual behavior at the dinner table caused it.
“I would love that.” She smiled, feeling lighter and happier but still guarded. “The gardens and fresh air sound perfect.”
“Shall we?” He extended his arm, and instead of placing her hand on his forearm, she looped her arm around his elbow.
“We shall.” How wonderful it felt to be close to him. If only they both weren’t holding something back. There was an invisible wall of unease, uncertainty, and a past to navigate through before they could be at ease with each other as they once were. She hoped it wouldn’t take long.
They strolled leisurely out of the double glass doors onto the veranda, down a few stairs, and into gardens lit by glass lanterns hanging from tall poles.
“How long have you known the Earl and Countess of Langford?” she asked as their feet crunched on the gravel path and they walked farther away from the veranda.
“I met Langford last year at Tattersall’s. He was buying a mare for the countess and a matching four for his carriage. I offered him my help.”
“That was very thoughtful of you.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I was also very much in awe of him, Blackstone, and Mr. Caldwell for building their import and export empire. I had never met them personally, although we would have had overlapping years at Eton; however, I had heard a great deal about them. So I took the opportunity to introduce myself and offer any assistance I could. When he realized my vast knowledge regarding horseflesh, he took my recommendations. Since then, I’ve become acquainted with Blackstone and Caldwell as well.
They could never replace my friendship with Greyson and Hunter, but they are friends of mine as well.
Greyson and Hunter have also become friends with them.
They have another friend, the Marquess of Hollingsworth, whom I’ve met and become friendly with.
He and his wife are away at the moment and couldn’t attend this evening. ”
“I’m glad for you.” She genuinely was. They were both making new friends, which would help make life less lonely.
“What about you? How did you meet the Earl and Countess of Langford?”
“Letitia’s mother and the Duchess of Blackstone’s mother have been close friends for a long time.
Letitia has known Emmeline her entire life and met Lilly when her first husband died and she came to live with Emmeline in London.
” She paused and inhaled. “I only met them recently, but we have become friends thanks to Letitia.”
“I’m also glad for you. I can’t imagine that being married to an older man gave you many chances to meet other young women like yourself.”
They arrived at a black wrought-iron bench and sat so close that their shoulders, hips, and thighs brushed against each other.
Neither moved to create space between them.
The warmth of his body felt nice against hers.
“To be truthful, Chesterfield didn’t allow me out of the house.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I was allowed on the grounds.
We never attended social functions together.
He went out, but I was stuck at home. Honestly, I was glad not to be around him, and he certainly didn’t want to be anywhere near me. ”
He turned and took her hands into his, sadness shining in his eyes. “I don’t understand. If he didn’t want to be with you, why did he marry you?”
Her cheeks reddened, and she looked down. “He wanted an heir, and that was all. He couldn’t be bothered with me . . . except . . . for . . .” She didn’t believe her face could get hotter, but it did. She was utterly mortified that she was sharing these intimate details about her marriage with him.
He gently squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened and what was done is over. I never gave him an heir, and he went to his grave despising me for it. Cursed me to a barren life.” Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked them away.
“I’m sure you’ll have children someday. Chesterfield was old. He was undoubtedly the one who was barren.”
What Samuel said was true. But now was not the time for that conversation.
Nor did Clarice know if the right time would ever come.
If he went away and she never saw him again, he should never know.
Why should he suffer as she had if she could spare him from the pain?
She’d suffered enough over the years for both of them, cried enough to create a river full of her tears and carried a constant pain in her chest from the loss, enough to break a weaker woman. She suddenly had to blink back tears.
“Can I ask a question?” His voice was quiet and unsure.
“Yes.”
“Did you ever think about me?”
She pulled her hands away from his in shock as anguish and pain pierced her heart. How could he ever think she hadn’t? She gasped, “How can you ask such a question?”
Before she continued, he took her hands in his again, gently brushing his thumbs over the back of her hands. “Forgive me. That was rather insensitive of me. What I should have said was I thought of you often.”
“I thought of you as well. I realize we have a lot to talk about, but could you hold me and let us enjoy this lovely evening without dredging up the past or my unhappy marriage?”
“This I can do.” He let go of her hands, wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close so their bodies touched everywhere.
Clarice rested her head on his shoulder and inhaled his familiar scent.
A scent that hadn’t changed. Samuel always smelled of a mix of hay, horses, and the outdoors.
Some might think it was a bad smell. To her, he smelled like coming home and heaven all in one.
“I missed this,” he murmured as he rested his head on hers.
“Me too.” He took her free hand in his, and their hands rested on her lap.
His thumb gently stroked the underside of her wrist where the glove met her skin, and she wished she hadn’t put her gloves back on after eating.
The circles he drew with his thumb made her skin tingle in a very good way.
The sensation traveled up her arm, down her stomach until it settled between her thighs.
She moved her bottom on the bench, trying to heighten the sensation.
Desire wasn’t something she’d felt in forever, and she wanted to enjoy it.
Samuel chuckled. “Are there ants in your gown? Because you seem squirmy all of a sudden.”
Mortified because she hadn’t realized it was so obvious, she giggled nervously. “No ants. My body’s enjoying being close to yours.” She gasped, tugged her hand from his, and slapped it across her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”
Samuel chuckled, but she knew he wasn’t laughing at her, but with her.
“I’m not going to lie—I could stand to adjust my breeches.
” Before she could understand the meaning of his words, he used his strong arms to pull her onto his lap.
Her legs dangled on the bench, her arms wrapped around his neck, and they stared at each other.
She didn’t breathe, nor did she think Samuel did, but she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her side.
She felt the intimate gaze of his dark, mesmerizing eyes penetrate straight into her soul.
“You are beautiful.” His voice deepened, and his eyes shifted from hers to her mouth and back multiple times. “May I kiss you?” he breathed out.
Her lips curled into a smile, and she exhaled, “Yes.”
She turned toward him as his lips pressed against hers.
How could it be that he tasted the same as she remembered?
His soft lips, larger than hers, even settled against hers in the same way.
They both moaned as the kiss deepened. Her tongue swirled around and around with his.
They reacquainted each other with their tongues.
The fingers of one of his hands skimmed up and down her back, then drew circles around and around, fueling the heat between her legs.
His other hand moved to the side of her neck, and his thumb moved lazily across her neck, collarbone, and the sensitive spot behind her ear, making her rub her bottom against the hardness growing in Samuel’s breeches, and he groaned out.
Lips left hers and travelled down her neck and throat until he licked the swell of her breasts exposed by the low-cut neckline she’d worn specifically to entice him.
“Christ, Clarice, you are driving me mad with lust. You, only you, have ever made me feel this way. Like I could lose myself in you and die in your arms, a happy, contented man.”
She wiggled her bottom again as she took his hand and placed it at the bottom of her skirt. “Touch me, Samuel.”
He didn’t hesitate to comply. He moved his hand beneath her skirts.
Clarice bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as her core vibrated with anticipation.
When his fingers finally found their way up the inside of her thighs and tunneled through her curls, she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder as her entire body trembled.
His fingers parted her folds, stroking her as his thumb circled around and around her nub.
She kept her face buried because of the sounds escaping her that she couldn’t hold in even if she tried.
To have Samuel’s hands on her again was almost more than she could endure.
Her hips jumped when he inserted a long finger inside her channel, and while he moved it in and out, he continued to tease her nub.
It was only moments before her legs shook, her stomach coiled up tight, and her body exploded.
Thankfully, his clothing muffled her cries as her pleasure continued on and on, and he continued to stroke her more gently and more lightly as time went on, until he removed his hand, tugged down her skirts, and inserted his index finger into his mouth and moaned.
“Samuel.” Having left euphoria, she smacked his arm.
“Did you really think I would waste your juices after waiting seven years to taste you again?”
Embarrassed, she buried her face again, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, making her feel cherished.
*
“It’s me. We have never been embarrassed by anything we’ve done together.” He kissed the top of her head and rubbed his cheek against it. “Please don’t be now. Time has passed, but we remain the same. Everything I felt for you before is still inside me.”
Samuel’s skin had tingled alive when he pulled Clarice into his arms, acutely aware of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart, and the softness of her curves.
The lavender scent of her hair drove him wild with desire, but at this moment, it was all about her.
He wanted to give her pleasure. When she said “touch me,” he nearly lost control.
When his fingers first ran through her curls and felt her wetness, her heat, he sighed as his body stilled and hers awakened.
When she came on his fingers, he knew he had to taste her.
He hoped he hadn’t shocked her too much, especially since her face was still buried.
As time passed and she said nothing, his stomach tightened.
“Is something wrong? Did I do anything wrong?”
When she said, “Nothing is wrong,” in a muffled voice, he understood her perfectly.
“Will you look at me?”
A groan escaped her lips as she slowly raised her head and looked into his eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks, making his heart race and his voice falter, “What is it? Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”
Her head shook from side to side until she finally answered him. “I’m fine. Better than fine.” She hiccupped. “I got a little overwhelmed with emotions and sensations, making me cry.”
Leaning his head back against the bench, his chest rose and fell with deep inhalations full of relief.
He had been so afraid that he had done something to upset her.
Looking up into the night sky, his eyes took in its vastness and all the stars.
He always wondered what it would be like to travel up into the sky and explore what was there.
What the planets and stars were really like.
But right now, he had everything he ever wanted or needed right down here and cradled in his arms.
“Do you remember what I used to tell you?” It wasn’t really a question, so Samuel kept going.
“That we never have to pretend with each other. That we are the other half of each other’s hearts, minds, and souls.
Nothing we could ever do or say would shock the other.
That we could confess our deepest, darkest secrets and nothing would change.
We would love, respect, and cherish each other until death. ”
“I remember. Please let me up.” Regrettably, he released his grip on her and helped her stand, where she began smoothing down her skirts and patting her hair. “How do I look?”
He joined her in standing. “Perfect.”
Her eyes drifted down to her skirts, and she giggled. “You’d say that even if I wore a sack. But, oh well, there’s nothing I can do about the wrinkles. Shall we head back to the house?”
He held out his hand, and bloody hell if he didn’t grin like a love-sick fool. “Yes.”
They neared the double doors leading into the salon as Lady Rutherford and Greyson stepped onto the veranda. Samuel lowered his head and asked quietly, “I know you arrived with Lady Rutherford, but was it your carriage or hers?”
“Hers.”
“Would you allow me to see you home?”
Instead of replying to him, she said, “Letitia, Stanton has offered to take me home. You don’t mind, do you?”
Lady Rutherford smiled at Clarice. “Not at all. Are we still going shopping on Bond Street tomorrow, late morning?”
“Why, yes, of course.”
“Greyson, Lady Rutherford,” Samuel said, “enjoy your stroll through the gardens.”
Before they could respond, he led Clarice into the salon, where they approached Lord and Lady Langford to say goodbye.
They exited the townhouse hand in hand. Once beside his coach, the liveried footman opened the door, lowered the steps, and Samuel helped Clarice inside.
He spoke to his driver, then entered the carriage, sat down, and tapped the roof, sending the carriage on its journey.
Samuel reached for Clarice’s hand and held it throughout the ride to Chesterfield Manor.