Chapter Ten #2
“That is true, my lord. But in our society—and in a great many others—it is the women who are most severely hindered in the acquisition and retainment of these essential desires.”
The earl shifted in his seat, leaning forward a bit. “The financially destitute are also faced with often insurmountable obstacles to such attainment.”
“Of course,” she agreed with a wave of her hand, “but within that subgroup, and any other existing in a society, there are still men and women. Who fares worse between them? Who is most often at the mercy of the other—physically and financially? Who is more desperately without resources should the other abandon them? And the worst thing about it is that none of it is determined by any sort of innate lack of potential. Women are limited by a world which has been structured by men to their benefit alone.”
The earl’s expression darkened with each question. His brows lowered and his jaw tightened as the curl of his lips flattened.
Lydia tilted her head. “Do you think every young girl reaches womanhood with a desire to wed? Do all women seek fulfillment in becoming a wife who will be obligated to care for her husband’s house and raise his children while he goes off to test his ambition and change the world?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Do you wish to change the world, Lady Lydia?”
“It doesn’t much matter, does it?” she replied a bit sharply.
“I’m expected to marry, whether I want to or not, a man who will very possibly not even be of my own choosing.
I am expected to devote myself to his comfort and happiness, at the expense of my own, if necessary.
Society has given me a role to fill. Any attempts I, or any other woman, make to deviate from the prescribed path, is likely to be met with varying degrees of resistance or punishment. ”
After a moment, he said, “Many women appear content with this arrangement. Surely, not all of them loathe to be wives and mothers.”
“You are correct. There are women who exist within this structure rather happily. Their dreams are fulfilled in the roles they’re given.
But if that ever changed and a woman should find herself desiring something different than what society had deemed appropriate…
” she lifted her brows, “would her wishes be supported? Would her husband or family embrace her sudden desire to travel the world or take a seat in government? What if she wished to stop carrying children before a coveted heir is born?”
Darlington did not reply.
She continued. “I am not saying all women want the same life. I am saying all women want the option and the opportunity to choose the life that will make her the happiest. And I honestly don’t understand why that seems to be such a great offense to our male counterparts.”
As she finished speaking, she realized how passionate her tone had gotten.
And she could suddenly feel the earl’s intense regard.
His manner was still and thoughtful as his gaze nearly glowed from the shadows.
This was exactly the type of debate one was not supposed to engage in while in polite society. She forced herself to remain silent.
They stared at each other for a long moment. The din and hum of the theater disappeared. The darkness of the private box seemed to close intimately around them. Something subtle traversed between them, making her want to shift in her seat or take a deep breath.
Lydia resisted, stoically returning his gaze. A gaze that seemed to silently bore into her. Penetrating. Unrelenting.
Just when she began to wonder if he’d reply, he did. In a voice that was deep and weighted, giving her pause as the odd reverberation that had been hovering between them rolled straight through her, he replied, “Alright. You’ve convinced me.”
The quiet, simple words had a surprisingly powerful effect on Lydia. Not because he was agreeing with her perspective. But because she sensed that he’d actually listened and he truly did understand the depth and breadth of what she’d said.
It was different from what she’d experienced conversing with other intellectuals in the bluestocking salons she attended. This was a gentleman who benefitted from all the privileges and entitlement their society afforded him. And he was willing to acknowledge her truth.
It did something to her. But before she could analyze the way her insides were swirling, he took a breath and released it with an easy grin.
Then, in a smooth fluid motion, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
The curve of his mouth slowly shifted into something intimate and carnal.
It happened so expertly, she only noticed the change when her body ignited with tingles and shivers.
His tone was smooth and intimate. “And now I find myself intensely curious about your rebellious desires.”
She wanted to fight her reaction to him.
Deny it. Because she knew it for what it was.
And why wouldn’t she feel a thread of desire for him?
The man was extremely attractive, charming in a strangely confrontational way, and innately sensual.
Instead of resisting her body’s response to his gleaming gold stare and the knowing curve of his mouth, she tilted her head and narrowed her gaze.
Her voice was subtly condescending. “So, you can offer to fulfill them?”
A flicker passed through his eyes. “I believe I’ve already made that offer,” he replied in a tone that was low and deliciously graveled. “There is a lot of fun to be had in the kind of rebellion I offer.”
Lydia sighed. “I’ve no need for your assistance in rebellion…or anything else.”
His smile was slow to form. “Are you certain?”
The heat of his devilish grin and the provocative gleam in his eyes made it difficult for her to respond. For a moment, she wanted to shout that she wasn’t certain of anything at all when he looked at her like that.
“If you’ve had any lovers at all,” he continued, “they must’ve been terrible. I’ve never seen a woman more desperately in need of pleasurable release.”
“You did not just say that,” she muttered in shock. The man’s boldness was inexhaustible.
Instead of being chastised, he lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “How long has it been?” he asked gently, “Since you’ve experienced pure sensual pleasure?”
She couldn’t answer. Words caught in her throat. There was nothing in her experience to support any kind of proper reply. She should say something to shut down his inquiry completely. But there was too much inside her that sparked and sizzled in response to the suggestive note in his voice.
As she stared back at him, her mouth slightly agape in shock as she struggled to reply. She saw the exact moment that surprise flickered across his gaze. His own lips parted on a swift inhale as his body gave a subtle jolt. Staring at her now with bright astonishment, he cleared his throat.
“Please,” he murmured thickly, his stare holding hers, “tell me you’ve at least explored your own body and its responses. Surely, you’ve touched yourself—”
Heat engulfed her from the inside out. She barely managed to protest in a thick whisper. “You go too far.”
“Or not far enough,” he challenged, staring at her with glittering golden eyes, his arched lips curved into a devilish smile.
His focus was so hot and penetrating and far too intuitive.
He seemed to see into her then. Into the core of her private yearning.
To the center of her psyche where her darkest desires were kept secret.
But his piercing gaze didn’t feel intrusive.
It felt…deeply arousing. She squeezed her thighs together as an intimate pulse of desire awakened deep within.
“Have you ever given yourself pleasure, Lady Lydia?”
Shock and something else made her frustratingly mute.
The man’s daring knew no bounds. She couldn’t debate someone who followed no rules of polite conversation.
As she stared back at him, eyes wide and stunned, she noted the satisfaction twisting his lips and the devilish light flickering in his eyes.
She would not be bested.
“If I have,” she blurted, “I certainly wouldn’t be telling you such a thing.”
His amber eyes suddenly widened with disbelief and blatant carnal delight before softening into something dark and distant and wicked.
He was imagining it! Her body ignited.
“No,” she said sharply, shaking her head, “don’t you dare.”
“Too late,” he replied with an unrepentant grin as his amber eyes flashed with heat. “Stunning,” he added in a lover’s voice.
Lydia couldn’t speak. Nor could she look away from his wicked gaze as her body erupted in flames, melting her core into liquid heat. Her breath quickened and everything tingled while Darlington stared back at her with unshielded desire.
And then the lights of the theater began to dim again, signaling the end of the intermission.
“I shan’t torment you much longer,” he said quietly. “I only ask that you do me one small favor…” His voice dropped to a weighted whisper that seemed to caress her skin with every word. “When you finally decide to explore your body’s sensual reactions, I’d like you to think of me.”
Heat billowed through her, swirling through her low belly, making it impossible for her to respond. Her skin tingled, her toes curled, and her mind went utterly blank.
“Though it should go without saying, my offer still stands, Lady Lydia,” he added as he rose to his feet and gave a bow. As if they’d just concluded a bit of light small-talk. “Enjoy the rest of the play.”
She didn’t respond as he stepped back then turned to slip past the curtain.
By the time her companions returned, Lydia was relaxed in her seat, casually observing the theater-goers below as they flowed back to their seats. Not even keen-eyed Bridget noticed her inner tension.