Chapter 14
“How did you get a black eye?” Aragon asked as he followed Julian into their box at the theater. “I thought you were considered a competent boxer.”
“I am.”
Julian took a moment to look around the growing audience and hoped his appearance wouldn’t cause as much comment as he feared. His guests hadn’t yet arrived. As expected, his mother had declined his invitation to attend, insisting that she preferred to rent her own box when necessary.
“Then what happened?”
Julian had forgotten how dogged his brother could be when he latched on to something. “All I can say is beware of ladies attempting to open umbrellas in closed carriages.”
“Ouch.” Aragon made a face.
“Indeed.”
“Who was the lady?” Aragon chose the best seat in the box and sat down. For once, Julian didn’t mind, because he’d already decided to sit out of the sight of any but the most determined viewer. “Anyone I know?”
“No,” Julian said. “And, as she was unaware that she had caused me any injury, I’ll keep her name to myself.”
“That’s probably best,” Aragon agreed. “You don’t want to appear any more foolish than you already do.”
The door to the box opened, and Allegra came in followed by Carenza, Mrs. Sheraton, and Mrs. Cooper.
Julian bowed. “Good evening, ladies.” He waited for a moment as they all studied him intently, then he raised his hand to touch the scar on his forehead. “As you can see, I am quite well.”
“Apart from that black eye,” Mrs. Sheraton said.
Julian shrugged. “A mere nothing.”
“Lover’s quarrel?” She looked over at Carenza.
“I told you what happened, Olivia.” Carenza approached Julian and smiled at him. “Good evening, sir. I am glad to see you in good health.”
His gaze drifted down from her face to her bosom, which was magnificently displayed in a gown of cream patterned muslin edged with gold lace. The sudden burst of lust that ran through him reminded him that he hadn’t had the pleasure of bedding her for far too long and that he wanted her very badly.
“Good evening, my lady.” He brought her gloved hand to his lips and deliberately bit her knuckles. Her eyes widened, and she uttered a little gasp that did nothing to suppress his desire. “Always a pleasure.”
“Not often enough,” she murmured. “But we persevere.”
He turned to greet Lady Allegra, who winked at him and immediately went over to speak to Aragon. Mrs. Cooper looked rather miserable.
“Is Mr. Cooper coming?” Julian asked.
“No, he’s still at work,” Mrs. Cooper said. “He sent his apologies.”
“Perhaps he’ll be able to come next time,” Julian said.
“I doubt it,” Mrs. Cooper said flatly. “His work is too important for him to indulge in such frivolity.”
Julian was far too adroit to involve himself in a matrimonial dispute and merely smiled.
He pulled out a chair for Mrs. Cooper next to Lady Allegra and Aragon in the front row, then steered Carenza toward the seat next to his in the second row with Mrs. Sheraton settling on the other side of him.
The loud conversations in the theater dimmed when the director of the opera came out to announce that they were ready to begin.
Some of the candles were extinguished, leaving the stage illuminated in the darkness.
He loved opera, but tonight his interests would be focused in his own box and not on the stage.
He angled his chair away from Mrs. Sheraton’s until his knee brushed against Carenza’s.
She stiffened as he placed his hand on her thigh, his fingers tightening as he caressed her through the thin fabric of her dress and petticoat.
He slid one arm along the back of her chair, his fingertips brushing the back of her neck and the lace of her bodice as he leaned in close.
“I burn for you,” he breathed against her skin.
She shivered, her fingers closing over his hand on her thigh, whether to embrace his ardor or to forestall it, he wasn’t yet sure.
He winced as Mrs. Sheraton jabbed him in the ribs with her fan and hissed. “If you intend to become amorous, might I ask that you find somewhere else to cling to each other? I was rather hoping to enjoy the opera.”
“I do beg your pardon,” Julian murmured.
He took Carenza’s hand and led her out of the box, noticing only Allegra’s startled face before he shut the door behind them.
He pulled Carenza into a small anteroom behind the box, where refreshments would be served at the interval.
After locking the door, he practically flattened Carenza against the wall.
“This is becoming a habit,” he whispered as he rucked up her skirts. “But I cannot wait any longer.”
As her fingers were already frantically undoing his breeches, he guessed she had no objection to being taken against the wall and acted accordingly.
The moment she released his cock he lifted her up and over it.
She stifled a scream against his shoulder as she sank fully onto him and immediately climaxed.
He stayed still, his cock desperate to join her, resisting temptation until she’d finished.
Then he took advantage of her suddenly weakened state to fuck her as roughly as he could.
He came fast and groaned through his teeth, aware that they were not really alone and that anyone who came in would know exactly what they’d been doing.
Her grip on his hair relaxed, and he set her down on her feet, steadying her as she rocked toward him. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, take her to his carriage and then to his bed, and emerge only after they’d worn each other out. His cock filled again and he reluctantly pulled free of her.
She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her breasts heaving as he found his handkerchief, cleaned himself off, and then pressed the folded cotton gently between her legs. She drew a shuddering breath.
“I’ll go to the retiring room and set myself to rights.”
“Yes.”
She left him leaning against the wall, listening vaguely to the sounds of the soprano on the stage as he calculated when his guests would be expecting refreshments at the interval.
A sense of dissatisfaction enveloped him.
He wanted more than quick, hurried couplings in inconvenient places.
He wanted a large bed equipped with a naked Carenza and no interruptions for a week.
He wanted to make her scream and not stifle her cries in case they were heard.
“You are behaving like a lovesick youth,” he scolded himself out loud. “Not a sophisticated, discreet, renowned lover of women.”
“Sounding a little conceited there, Mr. Laurent,” Mrs. Sheraton spoke from behind him. “And what have you done with Carenza?”
“I believe she’s gone to the retiring room.” Julian turned to face her.
“May I make a suggestion?” Mrs. Sheraton looked at him. “I’ll tell your other guests that Carenza isn’t feeling well and that you have taken her home. What you do with that time is up to you as long as you get her back to Tavistock Square before Allegra notices she isn’t there.”
He stared at her and then nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll take care of the others,” Mrs. Sheraton said. “I do hope you’ve provided refreshments so that we don’t have to mingle.”
“They will be delivered promptly to this room at the interval,” Julian promised.
Carenza arrived and went still as she saw Mrs. Sheraton. “Olivia …”
Mrs. Sheraton looked at Julian. “She does look rather flushed. You are right to take her home.” She winked at Carenza. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Allegra occupied until you return to Tavistock Square.”
“Thank you.” Carenza kissed Mrs. Sheraton’s cheek. “I’ll get my cloak.”
Minutes later, they left the opera house and were ensconced in a hackney cab taking them back to Julian’s house. He studied her in the dim light.
“I gave my staff the evening off, so we’ll be quite alone.”
“Oh, dear. How will we manage?” Carenza asked. “You’ll have to help me disrobe.”
“I had every intention of doing that anyway.” His gaze flowed over her. “I haven’t seen you naked for far too long.”
She shifted slightly on the seat, aware of the wetness between her thighs and the throbbing of her flesh where he’d thrust into her so forcefully.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”
She held his gaze and slowly licked her lips. “I’m just getting comfortable, sir. I am quite … sensitive.”
“Was I too rough?”
“No. I rather liked it.”
He groaned and looked out of the window. “This damn traffic. How long will it take to get to my bloody house?”
“We’ll be there in five minutes, guv,” the cabdriver shouted down to him. “Keep your powder dry.”
Carenza hid a smile and looked at Julian. “If the floor were cleaner, I might consider going down on my knees, and—”
“Stop talking,” Julian said through his teeth.
Luckily, for his sanity and hers, the cab soon arrived at the mews behind Julian’s town house.
He paid the driver and assisted Carenza down.
He took her hand, marched her through the garden, and into the house.
There was a single lamp burning in the kitchen, and the boot boy slept in his bed by the range.
Light came from under the door to the butler’s pantry, but no one came out to speak to them.
“Up the back stairs. It’s quicker,” Julian murmured.
She followed him up until he stopped, opened a door, and ushered her into a dark room which smelled reassuringly of him.
“Stay there.”
She heard the rasp of a flint, and a candle flickered into life to reveal Julian on his knees turning his attention to the fireplace.
She lit the remaining candles and discovered she was in the dressing room attached to his bedchamber.
Ignoring his instructions to remain where she was, she took one of the candles and opened the door into his bedroom.
The curtains were drawn, the fire was banked up for the night, and the bed was turned down, awaiting its occupant.