Chapter Seven #2
He handed Greyson two glasses of red wine, and he, in turn, gave her one.
She took a sip. Her jumbled-up nerves were beginning to settle now that she was on the outskirts of the gaming tables, where she could observe from the shadows.
As best she could count, there were eight round tables surrounded by chairs, occupied by both ladies and gentlemen.
She knew that ladies gambled, but they usually did so at private card parties attended only by women.
Seeing ladies mixed with gentlemen was strange.
She, of course, never attended a ladies’ game night, but she knew of them.
“Do you recognize anyone you know?” Greyson asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Because she spent so little time socializing, she recognized only a few people by sight.
Those she recognized were people she had met in Newmarket.
Most likely, if Greyson told her the names and titles of some of the other patrons, she would recognize their names even though they’d never met.
“A few people from my time in Newmarket.”
“Are you feeling less anxious?”
“I am.” Even though butterflies still swarmed in her stomach.
More from curiosity than nerves. As she watched people at the card tables, others strolled around the room, and still others congregated on chairs and settees.
She wondered what everyone’s names were and what brought them here.
Her eyes fell on a couple nearby. They embraced and kissed most scandalously.
Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t look away.
The only time she’d ever come close to being kissed like that was by Greyson during their time at Newmarket and the other night in the gardens.
Not that Graham hadn’t kissed her, just not in such a way, not all-consuming, like what she was witnessing. In the open.
“That is Lord and Lady Hammond. They are good friends with Knight and a couple deeply in love. Don’t be fooled by them, though. They help Knight keep an eye on the patrons in exchange for free membership, but don’t repeat that.”
She turned her head away from the couple and looked at Greyson. “How do you know this? I can’t imagine it working well if all the members know.”
He chuckled, put his arm across the back of the settee, and said, “Lean back and relax. I won’t ravish you in public, but I would like to hold you.”
She shimmied back until she was up against the back of the settee. Greyson immediately rested his arm on her shoulders, and she sighed, leaning toward him.
“See? That didn’t hurt. And it feels nice,” he said with a touch of amusement. “As for other Club Knight members knowing about Lord and Lady Hammond, there are very few who do.”
“You didn’t answer my question about how you know.”
“Hmmm. I may have recently joined, but I’ve been friends with Knight for some time. Before he opened these doors, he sought advice from several of his closest confidants.”
“I see.” She didn’t really understand, since this was the first time Greyson had mentioned a friendship with Knight, or rather, the Duke of Tremont. How did they know one another? Had Greyson served in the Navy, as Knight had? She didn’t believe so.
Her eyes traveled the room. Almost everyone was focused on their cards. Yes, perhaps the ladies and gentlemen were dressed more casually than usual for a night out in London, but overall, she wasn’t as shocked and scandalized as she thought she would be.
“Do you have any thoughts or questions?”
Greyson’s query drew her gaze back to him. “Why all the secrecy?” she asked.
Instead of answering, his hand caressed her bare shoulder as her short sleeve slid down, exposing her skin with a little help from him.
Now that was something that would never happen in a proper London ballroom.
The warmth of his fingertip swirling in circles on her skin sent heat pooling between her thighs.
Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
The action felt natural, even though others were around, and it would be considered scandalous anywhere else.
It would make headlines in the gossip rags.
“Does this feel good?” he murmured, resting his head against the top of hers.
“Yes,” she said, exhaling.
“Most of what happens during card playing is mild. The masquerade ball is another matter. People dress most scandalously, more so than at any other masquerade ball I’ve attended. Of course, this is all hearsay, as I’ve yet to attend one here. And have you forgotten about the third floor?”
The heat consuming her cheeks intensified. She had forgotten. Greyson explained there were rooms for couples seeking privacy. Did that mean . . .?
“From what I’ve been told, couples can go up together for a private engagement. Single men and women can wait outside a vacant room, hoping someone will join them. One does not go up there unless they are prepared for a very intimate encounter.”
“Oh my,” she whispered, closing her eyes and picturing herself and Greyson in one of those rooms as he ravished her. She fought the urge to rub her thighs together to ease her discomfort.
“Have I shocked you?” His voice was soft and seductive as his fingertips traced her collarbone, making her swallow back a moan.
“N-n-not at all.” Oh dear, what a conundrum.
A battle was forming between her body and her mind.
She wanted nothing more than to go to the third floor and have Greyson’s hands all over her, and hers all over him.
Did she dare? “Can you take me up there?” Had those breathy words really come out of her?
“Letitia, I promised you and myself that we wouldn’t go there tonight.”
“When is the next masquerade ball?”
“Next Tuesday.”
“Will Knight allow me to attend?”
“If you wish, you can apply for a membership. I will cover the cost.”
“I would like that. When you were here before, did you go up there?” Her stomach sank with dread as she waited for his answer.
“I’ve yet to visit the third floor.” Her body eased, knowing he spoke the truth.
Greyson, to her regret, righted her sleeve. He removed his arm from around her and stood, holding out her hand. “Shall we go?”
She really didn’t want to leave, but she supposed it was for the best. How embarrassing.
She had practically asked him to bed her.
No. Not practically. She had asked him. “Yes.” She took his hand, stood, and they strolled out of the ballroom.
They collected their things from the doorman and went out into the cool night air, which did wonders in extinguishing the fire burning inside her.
They rode in silence to Rutherford Manor, and she wondered what he was thinking.
Was he shocked that she had asked to go to the third floor?
She was a widow and well-versed in the carnal acts between couples.
She and Graham enjoyed their time in the bedroom.
Since his death, she missed the connection she had felt when wrapped in his arms, the feeling of being cherished and made love to until her body reached the pleasure of release.
“You’re quiet,” Greyson’s soft voice echoed inside the small coach.
“I was thinking you must be shocked by my suggestion that we visit the third floor,” she said, exasperated and mortified, fighting the urge to cover her face with her hands and hide. “I can hardly believe it myself. Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable.”
Just then, she noticed the carriage had stopped, and she wondered how long they had sat in front of her home.
“Will you permit me to see you inside?”
She shouldn’t, but because of the hopeful way he asked, she replied, “Yes,” a little breathlessly.
Mr. Henry greeted them at the door and took their coat and cloak. “You may retire for the night, Mr. Henry.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Mr. Henry bowed and headed toward the kitchens.
“Come with me,” Letitia said, leading the way up the stairs and into the drawing room, where she’d had afternoon tea with him just that afternoon. It seemed like days ago to her now.
Sitting on the settee, she invited him to join her. They faced each other, their knees touching. She took a deep breath and said, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again.”
He reached out immediately, taking her hands in his, and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “Why on earth would you say that?” He moved one hand to cup her cheek and looked at her questioningly.
She stayed frozen in place, fighting the urge to lean into the warmth of his hand. “Because you must think me a wanton.”
“My darling Letitia, you are no such thing. As far as I know, you have been with only one man, your deceased husband. And even if you have been with others, it wouldn’t matter to me.
You intrigue me. You make my heart pound and my breath seize in my chest. I desire you as I’ve never desired another.
I was flattered that you had the courage to speak your mind and consider taking me into your bed . . . into your body.”
“I . . . I . . .” Words escaped her, and the knot in her chest eased at his words.
“I must be totally honest with you about forming a courtship.” He looked at her, his eyes intense and touched with sadness, and she knew she wouldn’t like whatever he had to say next.
“I feel it would be unfair to you at this time if we formed a courtship. That is not to say we can’t see each other and attend society functions.
But my life is not my own, and I have many responsibilities, more than you know.
When I do court you seriously, and I do plan on it, I want to give you all my attention.
Can you find it in your heart to be patient with me and not give up on us? ”
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she blinked them away, mad at herself for almost crying.
She would be truthful with herself because seeing each other and going to functions together sounded an awful lot like courting.
If he couldn’t commit to her now, she would take what he could give.
There was no other gentleman she’d met who intrigued her or made her heart flutter like he did.
She smiled, even though it was tinged with sadness, cupped his cheek, and said, “I trust you.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
It was a kiss that turned sensual quickly, and before she understood what was happening, she was swept into Grayson’s strong arms and gently lowered across his lap.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed into his mouth.
It took only seconds for him to devour her.
His tongue swirled inside her mouth, tasting her.
When she joined her tongue with his, she felt the rumble of his groan from deep in his chest vibrate against hers.
That wasn’t all she felt. His manhood, hard and straining against his breeches, pressed against her bottom, and she swiveled her hips, intensifying the friction and making him groan again.
He eased his lips from hers and placed light, barely there kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and back up her neck, beneath the sensitive spot below her ear.
Her entire body quivered with desire for this man.
“Greyson . . .” she purred as his hand reached beneath her skirts.
“Easy, my dear. Stop me if this isn’t what you want.”
His hand continued caressing up her calf, over her knee, and along the inside of her thigh.
A stampede of wild horses couldn’t make her say stop.
Oh dear, what did that say about her? She wanted this man and what he was making her feel.
She sometimes wore pantaloons, but not tonight.
There was nothing between his hand and her womanhood.
His fingers finally brushed her curls, and she sighed deeply.
“Letitia,” Greyson exhaled as his fingers parted her folds and his thumb circled her nub. “So wet.” He kept circling. “So warm.” More circling. “Come for me.” He inserted one long finger, then removed it and pushed it back inside repeatedly.
She clutched the lapels of his jacket and buried her face there as her stomach fluttered low, her legs began to tremble, and her body shattered into a million tiny pieces of intense pleasure.
Greyson didn’t speak as her body exploded.
One hand stayed beneath her skirts, drawing out her pleasure, while the other splayed against her back, holding her tightly.
Her body felt languid and weak, and she was thankful he held her; otherwise, she would likely slither to the floor in a lifeless heap.
After perhaps a moment, Greyson righted her skirts and said, “Letitia, look at me.”
Did she have to? She inhaled, then raised her head, seeing desire in his eyes and a soft smile. “That was beautiful. Thank you for giving yourself to me. For trusting me.”
Oh dear, she blinked back tears at his words.
With no words of her own, she brought her mouth to his and kissed him gently, not to arouse their desires but to let him know how much she appreciated and cared for him.
She did care for him. In fact, she’d fallen in love with him during their time in Newmarket.
However, she would keep those words to herself until the time was right.
When she broke the kiss, he eased her off his lap, and she stood on wobbling legs.
Greyson rose, straightened his jacket and cuffs, then raised her hand to his mouth, and brushed his lips across her fingers.
Their eyes met, and his smoldered. “Goodnight, my dear. Weather permitting, would you join me for a ride in the park tomorrow?”
“I would like that very much,” she answered, and then he was gone.
Poor Greyson must be uncomfortable in his breeches.
Her thoughts darkened. Would he visit a brothel to ease himself?
Go back to Club Knight and visit the third floor?
If only she’d never known about Graham’s mistress.
It made her question Greyson, and it wasn’t fair to him.
He wasn’t Graham, with his secrets. Not to mention that he’d told her he didn’t have a mistress.
Jane met her as she entered her chambers. She helped her undress, then slipped a clean night rail over her head. She removed all the pins from her hair, combed it, and braided it. “That will be all for tonight, Jane.”
“Yes, my lady.”
After her maid left, she performed her nightly toilette and slid beneath the counterpane. Her body was still warm from the lingering effects of what Greyson had done to her, she didn’t want to feel embarrassed, but she was. Sleep eluded her for quite some time.