Chapter 19 #2
Xavier grimaced. “I’m afraid so. If you don’t want to go any further after all, because I lack experience, I would understand. I am but a novice when it comes to lovemaking. You’re a widow and in your eyes, I might be woefully inadequate.”
Emmeline cradled his face between her hands. “First of all, the way you kiss—by the book—I would never have known. And secondly”—she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m honored that you’ve entrusted me with your secret.”
His mouth hitched in a smile. “I’ve studied of course. Read books, as you mentioned, detailing methods. Techniques. I’ve pored over salacious etchings. I’ve also kissed several women.”
Emmeline raised an eyebrow. “At these gentlemen’s clubs?”
“Yes. And on the rare occasion I’ve attended a ball, I’ve kissed an obliging widow or two. But nothing more than that.”
“Well, this particular widow is very obliging,” said Emmeline softly. “You’re a clever man, and I also suspect a very fast learner. Given your attention to detail, I’m absolutely certain you’ll be a wonderful lover.”
“I can but try. I’m not even certain that I want to lose my virginity tonight. I don’t want to put you in a position where you’ll have to worry about…” He swallowed. “I don’t want to ruin you by getting you with child.”
“I never fell pregnant when I was married,” said Emmeline.
The words didn’t sting as much as they used to.
While she adored children, and had always hoped she’d be a mother herself one day, she’d come to accept that for her, it simply wasn’t to be.
She might be a nanny first and foremost, and must appear to be chaste, but she was also human.
And oh, it had been such a long time since she’d been with a man.
But it was more than that: She so wanted to find pleasure with this man.
She looked up through her eyelashes at Xavier. “Naturally, one doesn’t have to play at couch-quail to be satisfied.”
The duke gave a soft laugh. “Play at couch-quail. I like that. And I’m aware there are many ways to share physical pleasure.
” Xavier’s expression changed. His gaze grew heavy.
Hotter. Intentional. “May I?” He raised a hand, his palm hovering over the swell of one of her breasts. “May I touch you here?”
Moved by the fact that this man, a duke , would ask her permission, Emmeline nodded. “I would love it if you did,” she whispered.
And then she closed her eyes as Xavier’s hand closed over her. Gently kneading, testing the feel of her through the fabric of her nightclothes. Running his thumb over the taut, straining peak beneath. Rubbing and teasing and pinching and oooh…
It wasn’t enough. Her body demanded more.
Her fingers trembling, Emmeline clumsily pulled open her robe and slid the mother-of-pearl buttons of her nightgown’s bodice undone. Guided Xavier’s hand inside so his warm bare flesh was touching her bare flesh. Desire rose in a great wave and Emmeline whimpered.
“Let me see you.” Xavier groaned, and when she obliged, parting the fabric so her breasts were exposed, he groaned again. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered raggedly, his gaze drinking her in, savoring her nakedness like she was a veritable feast, and he was a starving man. “I’m in awe.”
He feathered a caress over her collarbones and then his long fingers stroked and delicately plucked at her nipple.
Circled her sensitive flesh, raising goose bumps and provoking delicious shivers.
All the while he nuzzled and nibbled at her neck, and it wasn’t long before Emmeline was shifting restlessly in his lap.
“Kiss me here,” she all but pleaded, touching where his wicked fingers played.
The duke’s growled reply came almost immediately. “With relish…”
If Xavier hadn’t told Emmeline that he was a novice, she would never have known. His greedy lips, his sinuous tongue were hot and eager, and it wasn’t long before Emmeline was moaning in utter abandonment, arching her back, clutching at his head, flagrantly pressing herself into his mouth.
The soft core of her was now throbbing and needy and she slid up the hem of her nightgown in blatant invitation. “You can touch me here too,” she whispered. “If you want to…”
Xavier lifted his head. “Oh, believe me,” he rasped. “I want to. But I don’t want to fumble about, guessing what you like. You must teach me. I want to learn what pleases you.”
Emmeline’s cheeks grew hot and so did the slick juncture between her thighs. “Very well,” she whispered. She couldn’t refuse this man when there was such raw, naked need in his eyes. Such earnest longing.
Covering the duke’s hand with her own once more, she showed him how to stroke her.
How to tease and torment and relentlessly nudge her toward the edge of bliss.
His gliding, circling fingers grew more confident, more knowing, and as pleasure built, Emmeline let him take control.
Holding on to his strong wrist, she shamelessly undulated against his hand until pleasure welled and rushed through her in a hot pulsing surge.
And then Xavier was kissing her, absorbing her soft shuddering gasp of release, as he wrapped her up in his arms.
When the ripples of bliss at last began to ebb and her faculties returned, Emmeline straightened a little and murmured, “You are quite the student, Your Grace. But I don’t think the lesson has quite ended.”
The duke frowned down at her. “What do you mean? I thought you… Did you not achieve satisfaction? The way you gasped and then went boneless in my arms—”
“Shhhh.” Emmeline pressed a finger to his lips. “I did, and it was magnificent. What I mean to say is, it’s my turn to demonstrate how a woman can please you.” She cast him a coquettish smile as she wiggled her derriere a little. “You certainly feel up to it.”
“You certainly feel up to it…”
God’s blood. Xavier clenched his jaw as a hot pulse of lust bolted through him. Never in his life had he felt so aroused or so alive.
So wanted.
“Well, I’ve never had a half-naked woman in my lap before,” he said in a voice that was none too steady. “Come to think of it, I’ve never even had a fully clothed woman in my lap until tonight.”
A light peal of laughter fell from Mrs. Chase’s—no, Emmeline’s —kiss-swollen lips. “That’s not quite true,” she said, her bright blue eyes dancing. “The first two times we met, I ended up straddling you. Surely that counts.”
Xavier tucked a loosened lock of her silky hair behind her shell-like ear. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of touching her hair. “How could I forget?” he murmured.
She adjusted her position slightly and he couldn’t contain a hiss.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Did I hurt you?”
He laughed. “No, but I am in agony. I’m sure you can tell I’m about to burst.”
She smiled a siren’s smile and one of her hands crept between their bodies. Her fingertips slid beneath his shirt and pressed against the waistband of his trousers. “I can fix that.”
Xavier frowned. “Only if you truly want to. I would never presume…”
“Oh, I want to,” replied Emmeline, her lovely voice husky with desire. “I want to very much.”
Slowly, teasingly, she unfastened the fall of his trousers and without hesitation, clasped his hot, heavy, throbbing length.
On a half-anguished, half-relieved groan, Xavier’s head fell back into the corner of the wingchair.
Closing his eyes, he gave himself over to Emmeline’s wicked ministrations.
Her fingers were deft and sure as she worked him into a frenzied lather, his raging lust gathering force with each stroke and squeeze and…
Oh God, he was undone.
Gripping the arms of the chair, Xavier quaked and groaned as he lost complete control. Exquisite pleasure broke over him, crashed through him like a massive cataclysmic wave, stealing his breath and obliterating every single thought except one…
Emmeline. My sweet Emmeline…
Gathering her close, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “My valet is going to kill me,” he murmured huskily into her vanilla-and-violet–scented hair.
Emmeline’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Quite possibly.” She pressed a kiss to his throat and his jaw then sat up. “Perhaps we should have thought ahead and made use of a handkerchief.”
“I have one in my pocket if you need one.”
“So do I,” said Emmeline. “But I have a better idea.”
Xavier cocked a brow. “Really?”
Emmeline smiled mysteriously. “Yes, really. But you must shut your eyes and promise not to peek. No matter what happens.” She poked his chest. “On pain of death.”
Both bemused and intrigued, Xavier chuckled. “By Jove. Whatever you’re going to do sounds like serious business indeed.” Nevertheless, he complied with Emmeline’s request.
No sooner had his eyelids fallen closed, he felt Emmeline shift slightly and whisper something completely nonsensical. “Unsmirchify.”
Almost immediately there was a soft humming sound. A faint tingling warmth passed over his skin and the very air around him seem to be illuminated for a brief second.
What the deuce?
“You can open your eyes now, Xavier.”
Xavier did and then sucked in a startled breath. The aftermath of his release had completely disappeared. His entire person was spotless. And so was the nanny’s. Her nightgown was done up and not a hair was out of place.
“How? Wh-What?” he stammered. “What on earth do they teach you at the Parasol Academy?”
“All Parasol nannies and governesses are trained in advanced cleaning techniques,” she said, climbing off his lap.
“Advanced cleaning techniques?” Xavier stood too. Even his trousers were done up and his shirt tucked in. “Is that a euphemism for witchcraft?”
She laughed. “Surely you’re not suggesting that I’m a witch, Your Grace? We both know that witches aren’t real. Just like ghosts and trolls and mermaids don’t exist.”
She was right, of course. And suddenly the scientist in him didn’t much care that he didn’t have a logical explanation for what had happened. The universe itself contained countless untold mysteries after all.
Emmeline Chase had magic in her voice and her fingers, her eyes and her smile. Who was he to question that?
He pulled her into his arms. “Well, you’ve done a good job of bewitching me tonight, Mrs. Chase,” he said softly. “I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but I’m grateful that I won’t need to face the wrath of my valet.”
She fiddled with the points of his collar. “I had a wonderful time too,” she said almost shyly. Or was there regret in her tone? She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
He stroked a finger down her nose. “I know this must be a once-only occasion. You have a reputation you wish to maintain and I…” He caught her chin gently and tilted up her face so she couldn’t escape his gaze.
“While I loved what we did—and I’m touched beyond measure that you were so very patient with me, showing me things that I’d never experienced before—I cannot offer you more than this.
I’m very much a confirmed bachelor. And as for anything else—”
“There’s no need to explain, Your Grace.
” Mrs. Chase’s mouth lifted into a wry sort of smile.
“I understand, more than you know. You’re a duke.
A blue blood. I’m a nanny from Cheapside.
While I’ve broken far too many Parasol Academy rules tonight, I want to assure you that I will continue to do my very best when caring for your wards. My duty to them will not be neglected.”
“I know it won’t,” said Xavier. “You are nothing but conscientious.”
All of a sudden, the lights in the gaslit wall sconces began to flicker.
Xavier narrowed his eyes. How odd…
The next moment, the gaslights went out completely.
Mrs. Chase was frowning too. “I wonder if only the lighting in here has been affected, or if the gaslights have stopped working throughout the house.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Xavier exited his study, the nanny following close behind. The wall sconces in the hall had all gone out too. Everything was bathed in deep shadow.
“I’ll have the issue thoroughly investigated tomorrow,” said Xavier. His gut tightened. Had the saboteur struck again? “I’ll also accompany the night footman on a round to check everything is secure.”
“Are you worried something untoward is happening? Another break-in attempt perhaps?” Emmeline sounded concerned but not alarmed.
Xavier rubbed a hand down his face. “I hope not. The problem is, I don’t know.”
“I’ll check on your wards on my way back to my room,” said Emmeline.
“Would you like a candle?” asked Xavier.
But the nanny shook her head. “There’s enough moonlight to light my way,” she said. She reached out as though she were about to touch his arm, but then her hand fell away. “Take care, Your Grace,” she said softly.
“You too, Mrs. Chase. Goodnight.”
As Xavier watched the nanny retreat down the darkened hallway, heading for the servants’ stairs, he clenched his ungloved hands. Regret and melancholy swirled in his belly and rose up to tighten his chest. Constrict his throat.
Damn it.
If things were different… if he were just Mr. Xavier Mason and not the Duke of St Lawrence, then he wouldn’t have to set aside the woman who made him feel like the king of men.
Who made him feel seen and valued and not like a carnival spectacle to be whispered about and laughed at.
To be shunned by many despite the fact he was a “blue blood.”
But if only s were useless, he reminded himself sternly as he headed downstairs to seek out the night footman.
Best to draw a line under this night, firmly shut the door on it, and focus on his other passion, horology.
Clocks and watches and the science behind them—his plans to make a name for himself as a first-rate horologist, to be the best in his field and the brilliant designer of the “King of Clocks” at Westminster Palace—would be more than enough, even if those dreams would never keep him warm at night or offer him blissful violet-scented oblivion.
Would that he could extinguish his dreams featuring Mrs. Chase.
After tonight, Xavier was certain that they would stay with him until the end of his days.