Chapter 17 #3
“But I don’t think she really wants to destroy Julian,” Olivia said. “She’s still in love with him. He’s the first man who ended a relationship with her—that’s usually her claim to fame—that she leaves her lovers behind.”
“So, this is all about her hurt pride?” Carenza asked.
“And Walcott’s fury that Mr. Laurent inherited his money,” Maude added. “Don’t forget that.”
Carenza turned to Olivia. “Have you told Julian?”
“Yes,” Olivia replied. “He wasn’t very happy with me for spoiling his house party, but I felt I had no choice. You seem to forget that I was there with you in that inn, Carenza. My reputation is at stake as well.”
“You don’t care about your reputation,” Carenza said.
“And you care far too much about yours,” Olivia fired back. “You’re so afraid of being compared to your mother that you hide behind a bland exterior that must be stifling.”
Carenza wanted to argue, but what could she say?
“See?” Olivia pointed a finger at her. “You know I’m right.”
“It still doesn’t excuse your behavior,” Carenza said.
“Perhaps you both need to stop arguing and work together to prevent anyone losing their reputation,” Maude said firmly.
“This really is ridiculous when you both care for each other.” Carenza and Olivia stared at Maude, and she shrugged.
“I’m too miserable to be anything but honest this evening.
The pair of you need your heads knocked together. ”
“She might have a point,” Olivia said.
“But what can we do?” Carenza looked from Maude to Olivia. “Until someone comes out with actual accusations rather than gossip and innuendo, there is nothing to fight.”
“My main concern is whether Calloway or Mr. Cox told Percival and Lady Brenton about Julian’s appearance at the inn when we were interviewing the candidates for the advertisement,” Olivia said. “I’m sure they’ll use that information to make matters worse for Julian and inadvertently for us.”
Carenza sat back. “I have to agree, and gossip does say that Calloway has been seen in Percival’s company.”
“Percival never stops complaining about Julian, and if Calloway is attempting to curry favor, he’s bound to tell them about Julian’s presence at the Wheatsheaf Inn,” Olivia said.
“Then we’re doomed,” Carenza sighed.
“Don’t be so defeatist. All we have to do is work out what Lady Brenton and Percival Walcott fear most.”
“That seems quite obvious,” Maude said. “Lady Brenton likes to be seen as a beautiful woman who can ensnare any man she wants with a snap of her fingers, and Percival considers himself a leader of the ton.”
“If we threaten those things, then surely they will leave Julian alone?” Carenza asked. “The only thing we need to work out is how to do it.”
“Oh, that’s the easy part,” Olivia said. “We blackmail them. And before you both tell me you would never lower yourselves to do such a thing, think about what they’ve been prepared to do to Julian.”
By the time Julian retired to bed, he had the beginnings of a headache, his jaw was tight, and the temptation to run screaming into the night felt almost sensible.
He sat down beside the fire and pressed his hands to his head.
So much for his vaunted plans. Between his mother, Lady Brenton, and Mrs. Sheraton, he was beset by women who had a bone to pick with him.
He’d barely managed a word with Carenza all evening.
He had a sense she’d deliberately stayed away from him, which had been both a relief and a curse.
She’d never had the face for intrigue, which was why he’d deliberately left her out of his wildest schemes when they were children.
He hadn’t been able to hear the conversation at her end of the table, but he’d sensed she was out of sorts.
He raised his head and stared at the connecting door between their apartments. He wanted to go to her, sink to his knees, bury his head in her lap, and let her soothe his troubled spirits. And then he wanted to take her to bed and make love to her for hours.
As if he’d called her in his mind, the door opened, and Carenza peeked into the room. “Julian?”
“I’m here.”
She came into the room. She was dressed for bed, her fair hair braided down her back and a large shawl over her nightgown.
“I am beginning to feel as if I’m the one doing all the chasing, here. This is the second time I’ve had to come into your bedchamber to find you.”
He sat back and regarded her. “You did say you wished to be in charge. Perhaps I’ve decided to sit here meekly until I’m called upon to perform for you.” There was a snap to his words that he instantly regretted.
Carenza raised her eyebrows. “I see you are feeling sorry for yourself.”
“With considerable justification.”
“I had to endure Lady Brenton suggesting I was too stupid to be your mistress and Olivia making provocative and unhelpful comments throughout dinner.”
“I had to talk to my mother.”
For a moment their gazes clashed, and then Julian sighed. “You are right. I am out of sorts, and it is all due to my inept planning. I’m sorry I invited you into this mess.”
“I’m not.” She held out her hand. “Because of this.”
He reluctantly got to his feet and took her hand. “What about it?”
“This.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed him. “When we can lock the doors and be together.”
“I suppose that does make up for a lot,” he grudgingly acknowledged, his hand curving around her buttock and bringing her against him. “Although knowing our luck, someone will set the place on fire and we’ll be discovered with flames burning the bed curtains while we’re too busy fucking to notice.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
He looked down at her. “To burning alive?”
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” She poked him in the ribs. “I was referring to the part where you mentioned being fucked.”
“Ah. Now that I can help you with.” He picked her up and marched over to his bed.
He stripped off her nightgown, his fingers touching the slight bruise on her throat and the stronger marks on her hips where he’d held her so tightly earlier. She parted her thighs, and he cupped her mound.
“Are you sore?”
“Yes, a little.”
“Yet you still want more?” He touched her clit, which immediately started to throb under the pad of his finger. The scent of her arousal rose around him, and he slowly inhaled. “You’re insatiable.”
“Does it offend you?”
He looked up at her face, sensing the tension behind the question. “Not at all. Why would it? What more could a man want than a woman who wants him back?”
Her smile was wry. “I suppose that depends on the woman.”
Julian frowned. “Hector was a fool.”
“Or maybe it’s more about what is allowed for a married woman as opposed to a mistress,” Carenza mused.
“I would not make such a distinction.” Julian bent to kiss her. “There is nothing that excites me more than to be desired for myself.”
She swallowed hard. “Then perhaps you might disrobe so that I can have my wicked way with you?”
He removed his clothing, his gaze fixed on hers, enjoying her reactions to the gradual reveal of his body. She touched his hip, and he wanted to explode with lust as her fingers moved inwards and traveled up his shaft to the already wet tip of his cock.
“You’re just as ready as I am,” she murmured.
“Mmm …” He pushed against her hand. “I’ll be careful. Shall I blow out the candles?”
“No, I want to watch you.” She eased one arm behind her head and bent her leg at the knee to give him more access.
“And not do the work yourself?” He squeezed his cock and lowered himself over her, brushing the tip against her wetness until he seamlessly slid inside. “You want to watch … this?”
He pushed in and then withdrew completely.
A slight frown appeared between her brows. “There’s no need to stop.”
“I thought you wished to admire me.”
“Oh, I do.” She wriggled slightly on the sheets. “But in motion is best.”
“I think I’ll make you wait.” He replaced his cock with his tongue until she was ready to come and then sat back again. “I like to watch you on the brink of an orgasm, glaring at me to finish it.”
“I can do that for myself,” she pointed out rather breathlessly.
“Not tonight.” He held her gaze. “You’ll play my game.”
“All right.”
He placed his hands around her waist and arranged her against a bank of pillows. He slid his knee between her thighs and pressed it against her mound, almost making her climax.
“Suck my cock.” He brought his shaft to her lips and rubbed the crown against them, coating them in his wetness.
She licked him, her tongue darting out to explore the contours of his cock and dip into the very center.
He groaned her name and pushed his cock deep down her throat, holding it there while he regained control of himself.
He loved the way it felt to be sheathed within her mouth, her head back, her eyes closed as she held him so deeply.
He wanted to thrust hard and come hard but reminded himself that he’d offered her a different game to play and that driving her to distraction without letting her come was his aim.
He eased free and cupped her bountiful breasts in both hands, his fingers on her already hard nipples.
Angling his hips, he slid his cock in her cleavage and gently rocked back and forth as he massaged her breasts.
Her breathing hitched as he kissed her lips, which were sticky from his presence, and then removed his knee from her mound and kissed her other lips, which were already swollen and begging for his attention.
“Julian …”
He ignored her quiet plea and fingered her until she began to tighten against him. When he drew back, she made a feral noise that made him smile.
“I think I need a drink. Would you care for one?”
He got off the bed and strolled over to his dressing table, where Proctor had left him some brandy and two glasses. He poured himself a drink and turned back to the bed, where Carenza was glaring at him.
“Are you sure you won’t join me?” He held up the glass. “It’s very fine brandy.”