Chapter Ten
Jules waited until he heard the lock click on the water closet door and then sought out his small clay pipe.
His stomach was in a knot and much as he wanted to be with Meredith in every way possible, he hadn’t wanted to see the distress in her eyes when she’d imagined the tidal wave of gossip about them.
He opened the window to the sounds of the street—clopping hooves, calls from street sellers, pigeons cooing on the opposite roof—and lit his pipe.
Blowing out the first stream of bitter smoke, he thought of her stripping off her gown just a few feet away. Her skin was milky pale and he longed to see every inch of it. Were her nipples just as delicate or were they dark and oversized?
He puffed some more on his pipe and as he thought of touching her cunny.
Heat traveled to his groin. He set his gaze on a man pushing a barrow of apples and his memory flitted back in time.
When they’d last been in a bedchamber, at his home, things had ramped up fast. Passion had taken over.
She’d been so responsive, so giving, so damn desirable.
And despite Jules being convinced of her purity, she hadn’t been passive or afraid.
She’d been bright-eyed, confident, and sure.
In the name of the good Lord, she’d licked his cock. Her pretty, pink tongue had just poked right out and circled the end.
Jules shoved his free hand into his pants and adjusted his erection. It wasn’t the first time recalling that moment with Meredith had made him hard as steel.
And there was no denying the fact that he wanted it again…and more.
Oh, he could go find a brothel. There were plenty in the city, all with women ready to pay attention to a stiff cock for a few shillings. But Jules knew that wouldn’t cut it.
It was Meredith he wanted. The lust in his veins practically screamed for her and her alone.
As an intellectual, literary woman, with fierce wit and layered humor, having Meredith give her body to him was beyond erotic.
She wasn’t the sort to lie back and spread her thighs.
Oh, no, she was engaged, reactive, and able to make her own decisions.
Her ability to see him, really see and understand him, was unique and incredibly sensual.
It called to every part of his body and mind in a way no one else ever had.
The sound of splashing filtered toward him and for the first time in his life, he wished he were a bar of soap so he could trail over her body, around her breasts and between her legs.
He chuckled at the ridiculous thought of being a bar of soap and puffed on his pipe. Perhaps later, after they’d eaten, if she let him kiss her again, she’d also let him touch her until she made those sweet, little gasping sounds and arched her back from the bed.
“In the name of…” He tapped out the pipe and set one hand on the wall. His erection was becoming painful. He’d have to do something about it.
After dragging the curtain half-closed, he hid behind it, kerchief in one hand and heat spiking over his scalp.
He dropped the flap of his pants and pulled out his cock. He felt seedy, ridiculous, like a damn whippersnapper, but it couldn’t be helped. If he was to be able to attend dinner with Meredith, this had to be done.
He worked his cock the way he used to as a youth when first discovering his body. With gritted teeth, the arousal in his body grew and the pressure in his balls built.
Meredith was singing now, a gentle lullaby that filtered from the water closet, and it competed with the sound of the pulse in his ears.
His fist moved fast, almost a blur, and he closed his eyes.
Instantly, her face hovered in his mind’s eye. But not her expression as she concentrated on chess strategy, but her wide-eyed countenance as she’d given into womanly release.
“Ah, damn and blast.” He was getting close, thank goodness. He had to be quick.
Within another minute, it was there. Bliss exploded into the kerchief and he locked his knees to stay upright. “Ah… Ah…” He sucked in a breath and eked out every second of pleasure. Sweat popped on his brow and his belly tightened.
“Oh, dear Lord.” He squeezed his eyes closed and reveled in the moment of satisfaction.
But how long would it last? His own hand was all fair and good, but it wasn’t Meredith’s hand. It wasn’t her flesh against his, her breath mixing with his.
One thing was for sure, Jules observed as he tucked himself away and folded up the kerchief ready for washing, not only did Meredith have him behaving like a lust-addled youth, he was also willing to do just about anything to see her smile.
Meredith stepped from the rosewater bath and dried with a soft, white towel. Her body tingled but not just from the warm water, from the release she had just enjoyed.
Being naked just feet from Jules had done strange things to her body and the hot lust in her veins had sent her fingers between her legs.
Within minutes of rubbing herself, the way Jules had previously, she was curling her toes and pulsing through an orgasm that had sent water splashing over the side of the tub.
She’d hoped Jules hadn’t heard her, so she’d quickly started singing a little song to ease her embarrassment.
What would he think had he known?
After powdering and drying, she slipped into a chemise and then her yellow gown. Her cheeks were flushed and she added pomade to her lips and kohl to her eyebrows the way Nancy had shown her.
With hair a little damp and brush in hand, she emerged into the bedchamber. It smelled faintly of pipe smoke and one curtain was pulled. Jules was at his trunk pulling out a fresh shirt.
“Ah, you are finished.” He stood and turned, his gaze sliding down her body. “And you look ravishing.”
“‘Ravishing’?” She giggled. “Why, thank you.”
He swallowed and gripped his shirt until she was sure it had creased. “I will not be long.”
She pulled in a deep breath as the water closet door closed and then went to the window. A row of eight pigeons on the roof opposite stared at her and she swirled the fake wedding ring around her finger.
Perhaps, for a few days only, she could pretend it was real.
When she had been a child, make-believe had been her favorite pastime.
She’d kept that a secret, of course. But fairies, giants, trolls, and little elves who worked hard in the woods creating furniture from twigs had been her friends.
Yes, she’d had a great imagination. Convinced herself entirely these tiny creatures were real.
Could she do the same with this marriage to Jules? Convince not just the Parisians, but also herself that they were married? Man and wife. Connected until death do them part.
She turned and looked at the large, beautifully dressed bed. Would her longstanding duty to abide by convention be convinced it was a marital bed? A place for pleasure, not sin? A place to explore every inch of Jules Habsburg’s exquisite body and be the one to give him the pleasure of male release?
A shiver ran up her spine despite the warm weather. For a moment, she marveled at her erotic thoughts, at how she’d gone through some kind of metamorphosis since meeting the scoundrel of the ton and been dazzled by his wickedly sexy smile and the intriguing glint in his eyes.
Destiny was certainly playing a crazy trick on her. Giving with one hand, taking with another, and offering delights that would have beggared belief in her old life.
Soon, she was seated at a table in the hotel’s elegant restaurant. Spotless, white linen was spread on every table. The silverware was so polished, she could see her reflection in each piece, and like in the lobby, huge, fresh flowers filled every corner, every shelf, and tumbled from giant urns.
“Do you like it?” Jules asked, seated opposite her and sipping on a glass of champagne.
“It’s wonderful.” She looked up at the vast glass ceiling crisscrossed with steel struts. “And the plates being carried past look and smell delicious.” She craned her neck to eye a huge steak topped with creamy potatoes.
“I would suggest the blue lobster with asparagus,” Jules said, running the tip of his finger down the menu, which was all in French. “If you are agreeable.”
“If it is what you suggest, then yes, I want the full Paris experience.” She took a sip of her sweet champagne. “For I believe I will only be here once.”
“And why is that?”
She tipped her head and smiled. “Women like me…” She held back the word spinster. “Don’t generally travel.”
“I disagree.” He shook his head. “Women like you—who are rare, can I add for the record—can do whatever they want.”
“And why do you say that?” He thought she was rare? A slight flush rose on her neck and she resisted fanning herself with her napkin.
“Because you are intelligent, and observant, and I would imagine highly adaptable to your surroundings. For example, I bet you’d learn any language within a week or two if you submerged yourself in it.”
“I would like to learn Spanish.”
“You would master it in a heartbeat.”
“I admire you for being so fluent in French. It has been a long time since I studied it.”
He grinned. “Thank you.”
The waiter appeared and Jules ordered for them both, in French, and then set aside the menus.
“Can we be honest with each other?” she proposed, leaning forward.
“That is all I ever want to be with you.” He leaned forward.
She took a deep breath. That was a good start. “What is it you really want from life, Jules Habsburg? What is all this ducking and diving, gambling, drinking, fine dining… What is it for?”
“Whatever do you mean?” His eyebrows pulled together.
“You talk about your ancestors and how many generations ago you were cheated from a life of thrones and empires, yet you are a wealthy man, that much is obvious. Why would you need more? Why do you insist on searching for more?”
He tipped his head. “What I like about you, Meredith, is you are just like Mary of Burgundy.”
“I am? Why? What was she like?” She shrugged. “And who is she?”
“She was the duchess my ancestor Maximilian left Vienna for. He traveled, with his army on horseback and in his heavy armor, all the way to Burgundy to marry her. And Mary was known for being a straight speaker. She told it how it was, to her friends, family, and to her people. Famed for being a great negotiator and a keeper of peace, she understood strategy and people’s moods and could spot their biases.
” He nodded slowly. “I admire her. From what I have learned from my readings, she was an incredibly strong woman.”
“She sounds it.” Meredith was touched and a little flattered that he’d compared her to someone he clearly revered.
“A woman with a zest for life,” he went on, leaning forward and warming to his subject. “Learned, skilled at falconry, ice skating, hunting, and more.”
“I would like to be friends with her.”
He laughed and sat back, picking up his glass. “You would have been great friends, should you have lived three hundred years ago in the Low Countries.”
Meredith laughed too and then smoothed the napkin on her lap. “Yet still you don’t answer me. What is it you really want from life?” She bit on her bottom lip to stop herself from adding ‘if it’s not a wife and children.’
“What more could I want?” He sipped from his flute of champagne. “Tonight, I am in Paris with a beautiful, intelligent woman and tomorrow I will, hopefully, find the art pieces I have set my sights upon to take back to London.”
“And that is enough?”
His smile dropped and he leaned forward. “Why shouldn’t it be?”
She sucked in a breath. “What about heirs to your fortune?”
“‘Heirs.’” His eyebrows rose. “I suppose there is always time for that.”
“Yes, you are still a young man.”
“I am thirty-one.”
“And I twenty-eight,” she offered, knowing she was particularly old for an unmarried woman.
“My younger wife.” He grinned cheekily and nodded at her fake wedding ring. “How lucky I am.”
A tremble went through her at his words. If only they were true. “Jules…” She tipped her head. “I adore your company. We laugh a lot together, but…”
“‘But’?”
It was her turn to lean toward him and she held his gaze. “If it is not too forward of me, I do see sadness in your eyes when you are sitting quiet and you believe no one to be observing you. What is it you miss? Who is it you miss?”
As if to stop her seeing any sadness, he closed his eyes, his long lashes creating small shadows on his skin. “I have no sadness.” His jaw tightened.
Meredith lowered her shoulders. She knew what she’d seen.
The dark depth of his eyes took on a cloudy hue, and his eyelids grew heavy, when he was deep in thought and believed himself to be unwatched.
Several times on the journey to Paris, she’d spotted it, when they’d been traveling in the carriage for hour upon hour.
“What you see is…” He swallowed tightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing down to his cravat. “Loneliness, perhaps.”
Meredith forced herself to nod slowly, hoping he’d go on.
“With my father gone and much missed,” he said, “and no real roots to the Habsburgs, I find the house silent and vacuous at times. Too big for just myself and staff, apart from Cook, have always felt in the way rather than company. Perhaps if I’d had siblings…” He trailed off with a shrug.
“That is an understandable emotion.”
“Which is why I throw myself into my work.”
“Work, yes of course, but also late nights at the Lyon’s Den.”
“And yes, late nights at the Lyon’s Den.” He chuckled. “There is always company to be had there. Interesting company to while away the time and share a glass of something with.”
“So it is companionship you wish for?”
“I suppose it is.” He leaned back as the waiter set down a sumptuous-smelling lobster and vivid green asparagus spread on a fine China plate. “When it boils down to it, I enjoy the company of other gentlemen.”
Meredith said her thanks to the waiter as her food arrived. Then, when he’d left, she picked up her utensils and asked, “Don’t I count as company?”
“Very much so.” He nodded earnestly. “And I don’t even know why you should ask. Didn’t I practically beg you to accompany me to Paris?”
She smiled and cut the tip off an asparagus. “I suppose you were rather persuasive.”
“I know what I want…” His eyes narrowed as his gaze fixed upon her. “And I want you.”
A flush of heat rushed up her chest and to her cheeks.
Then when she looked into his eyes and saw the same desire that had been there back at his house, in his bedchamber, a glut of lust poured into her veins, tightening her nipples and making her cunny flutter in anticipation of where the night might lead.
He wanted her.
As she wanted him.