A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset

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A Rake for All Seasons: A Regency and Victorian Romance Boxset Page 31

by Samantha Holt


  “Kiss me,” she demanded.

  “I am,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Properly.”

  Another chuckle. But he did as she bid. This time his tongue met hers. A delightful frisson skipped through her while he sampled her, tentatively at first like someone trying a new flavour of ice cream. He was attempting to be a gentleman of sorts, she realised. Not that a gentleman would kiss an unmarried woman in a hotel room but for Jasper, this could certainly count as gentlemanly behaviour.

  She tried not to clamour against him, but it was hard. A deep ache started up between her thighs. A virgin she might be but she wasn’t ignorant as to what it meant. She needed him as a wife needed a husband. She ached for the touch of his fingers between her thighs. Hettie had explored herself plenty of times to know the pleasure her body could bring, but somehow she knew Jasper could do so much more.

  “Hettie,” he grunted a warning when the apex of her thighs connected with the arousal she could feel through his trousers. He drew back and eyed her, his hands still firmly cupping her face. “You make it hard to be a gentleman.”

  “I did not know you knew how to be one.”

  He narrowed his gaze, warning her now was not the time for teasing.

  She relented. “Do you have to be a gentleman?”

  “Did I not just offer to court you? I know you well enough by now, Hettie, to know that bedding you would not raise me up in your esteem but merely damage it.”

  She nodded while the haze of desire began to fade away. “You are right. It is just...”

  “Just...?”

  “My body aches for you,” she admitted.

  He dropped his hands away and her stomach near bottomed out. Had she sounded a fool? She hadn’t really meant to admit as much. Jasper flustered her beyond all reason and made her reckless. In some respects, she liked it, but not when it made her seem foolish.

  “I should not have—”

  “Hush.” He cut her off by raising a hand then pushing it through his hair. “Never be embarrassed by your needs.” His palms were back against her cheeks, brushing where her cheeks burned with humiliation. “But you have no idea how hard it is to stay in control when you say things like that.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “No.” He gazed into her eyes. “Do not be sorry for your needs. In spite of what everyone will tell you, particularly your father I should imagine, they are natural.”

  “I do know that.”

  He eyed her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. “When will you ever cease to stop shocking me, Hettie Foster?” His thumb stroked her cheek absentmindedly while he pondered her. “Do you...touch yourself? Do you know how to bring yourself pleasure?”

  She gulped. “Yes.” The word came out a whisper.

  “Holy...” His next word came out a whisper too but she heard the coarseness of it. It sent a thrill through her.

  Jasper liked the idea of her touching herself. That excited her to no end. The daring, bold Hettie was shaking at the confines of her corset, desperate to be unleashed. She couldn’t give herself to this man—not without marriage—but could she do more...?

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Do you want to touch yourself now?”

  She nodded against him even as heat flooded her face.

  His intake of breath seemed weighted. Jasper drew back and took her hand to guide her to the bed. He coaxed her to lie down, his expression dark and serious. Hettie did as she was bid, never taking her eyes off him. Anticipation swirled in her stomach.

  Gradually, he inched her skirts higher. His eyes glinted when he eyed her legs and the tiny slip of visible flesh between her drawers and the silk ties of the stockings.

  “Show me,” he demanded, his voice gritty.

  With a shaky hand, she found the slit in her drawers and eased her fingers through. He wouldn’t be able to see her most intimate parts but the scandalous nature of what she was doing made her whole body tremble with nerves and excitement. She could hardly believe that she, Hettie Foster, was lying on a hotel bed with Jasper Cynfell while touching herself.

  She felt the familiar heat and dampness of herself. When she found her nub, a tingle raced through her. She couldn’t recall ever being this aroused when doing this by herself. Jasper’s sound of appreciation merely enhanced the sensations while she explored her body.

  “Hettie...Christ...” His gaze remained on the spot where her hand vanished into her undergarments. “I want to touch you.”

  She stilled her movements.

  “I will not if you do not—”

  “I want you to.” The words came out in a rush before she could change her mind. After all, what would a little touching harm? She would remain a virgin even if he touched her. And how could something that felt so good be wrong?

  Hettie withdrew her hand and closed her eyes. Part of her longed to watch, part of her knew deep down how naughty she was being. She wasn’t a widow or a fallen woman. She was the polite, well-behaved daughter of a vicar. No one would expect such behaviour from her.

  And yet she could not help revel in it. She felt so wild and free from restriction.

  “Oh!” Hettie’s lids flew open.

  Jasper might have been cautious before but once his fingers connected with her flesh, there was no holding him back. He moved his hand with perfect expertise. She supposed jealousy ought to ring through her at the idea of where he’d learned such skills but the pleasure swept her away before she could recall why she should be jealous. And from the way he looked at her, she couldn’t fail to feel like the only woman in the world.

  Hettie gripped the pillow at either side of her head and rolled her hips in time with his movements. He released harsh breaths and she finally noted that he had undone his trousers and slipped a hand inside them. She wanted to see more really but could not find the words to demand as much, nor the courage. Another time perhaps.

  He worked them both to their peak. The thought of him gaining pleasure from this experience only made it more extreme. She watched the movement of his hand in his trousers, catching the occasional glimpse of his arousal—a sight that intrigued and overwhelmed. Her body tightened and he worked her bud vigorously.

  “That’s it, my girl,” he urged through clenched teeth.

  My girl. Oh, how that thrilled her. Grip tight on the pillow, the ecstasy reached its peak. Her thighs vibrated at the intensity of it and she clenched her eyes tightly shut. It crested and spilled through her, sending waves of heat and pleasure from head to toe until she thought she would die from it. As it finally ebbed, she drew open her eyes.

  Through a haze of lethargy, she watched his face contort in pleasure. He snatched her hand and curled it around his shaft. She released a surprised cry at the feel of that taut flesh and the way he worked her hand up and down him. Now Hettie had a fine view of his manhood and she couldn’t help marvel at it.

  He uttered her name and moved her hand in several vigorous thrusts before spilling. Hot seed hit the back of her hand and his trousers. Hettie admired the sight, then the vulnerability stamped on his face while he worked through his orgasm. He eased her hand up and down him a few more slow, gentle times before releasing it.

  “Forgive me.” He sounded weary and regretful as he fished out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.

  She wiped off her hand and handed it back to him while offering a gentle smile. “I don’t think you need forgiveness, Jasper. After all, I demanded pleasure from you. It was only right that I return the favour.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “Hettie Foster, you really are something...”

  “I know. You keep saying that.”

  Jasper leaned in and kissed her on the lips with all the tenderness of a man who had every intention of courting her properly. She could not help but be excited by the possibilities of what the future held.

  “That is because it is true.” He buttoned his trousers and moved off the bed. “Now let us have that cup of t
ea before I give into temptation and do something truly scandalous.”

  Hettie appreciated his control, though she could not help wonder how long their courtship would last. She hoped it was not too long.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jasper handed Hettie up into the cab and sat beside her. He twined his fingers between her gloved hand, pulling it close to him so he could wrap his other hand around hers.

  “So where are we starting? You said you have an idea of where to?”

  Over breakfast, he’d tried hard to think how to tell Hettie where he suspected Emma was, but how could he? Part of him felt Emma needed to tell her but by the time they had searched all the charitable institutions, he’d made a list of she would know anyway.

  He was a coward. Who’d have thought it? He, who cared little what anyone thought of him and prided himself on taking chances in life, was terrified of hurting this woman.

  “I believe Emma will have sought help from one of the charities around here. There are many in the city. I think we should start with them.”

  Hettie shook her head. “I don’t understand why she would do this. Foolish girl. Did she really think that man would follow her and marry her?”

  Jasper doubted Emma really did. She’d known full well when she had asked him for help that Brandon had little intention of doing the honourable thing, but he imagined she still held onto hope. But why had she not come to him once more instead of running away? He couldn’t fathom it.

  “All will be well,” he assured Hettie. He wasn’t sure it would be. For once in his life, he wasn’t sure of anything. Even when Emma had come to him and he’d made a decision so outrageous and unexpected, even to him, he’d been certain of it.

  Now he regretted keeping everything from Hettie. What if she never forgave him? What if she refused to let him court her? He needed to be around her. He couldn’t lose her.

  “Do not be angry with Emma, will you?”

  “Angry with her? She’s my sister! I just want her safe.”

  Hopefully she wouldn’t be angry with him, either, but he had his suspicions that wouldn’t be the case. Still, he’d weathered her anger before. He just had to convince her he’d been trying to protect her and soon enough, they could return to normal. And he could return to doing his best to win her over completely.

  If all went well, he had every intention of making Hettie his wife.

  The cabriolet drew to a halt and Jasper stepped out and put on his hat.

  Hettie glanced up at the tall building with the words engraved into it. “St. Mary’s Female Protection Society?”

  “I won’t be allowed in. You shall have to enquire yourself.”

  She nodded and entered, leaving him standing by the carriage, arms folded. Hettie returned within minutes.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Well, we have plenty more to try.” He aided her back into the carriage and they continued their search.

  By midday, they had visited eight more institutions with no sign of Emma. Jasper’s gut clenched as Hettie’s expression grew more and more resigned.

  “We’ll find her,” he assured her while they ate a light lunch in one of the restaurants on Castle Street. “If we don’t succeed tomorrow, I’ll speak with the police and a private investigator.”

  “No, no police.” She lowered her cup and picked at the sandwich on her plate absent-mindedly. “I do not want them involved. What if Mama and Papa find out?”

  “You would be better off telling them what has happened anyway. It’s bound to come out eventually and they can keep a closer eye on her.”

  “They’re very busy,” she explained. “Their charitable work takes them all over the country.”

  “Leaving you to play mother,” he said quietly.

  That Hettie should be dealing with all this on her own rankled him. He longed to bundle her in his arms and protect her from having gone through all of this.

  “I should have come to London with her, but I don’t enjoy it. I thought my time was better spent at the orphanage.”

  “And you enjoy that?”

  “Yes, in some ways. It’s nice to be needed.”

  He didn’t mention how he needed her. Now was not the time nor the place.

  “I suppose you enjoy London very much.”

  Jasper lifted a shoulder. “I enjoy aspects of it, but I’ve never been overly attached to it. I’ve never become overly attached to anywhere. There doesn’t seem much point.”

  “What of your childhood home?”

  “Lord, I couldn’t wait to leave. If you had grown up with six brothers, you’d understand why. I always wanted to experience more.”

  A dreamy look entered her gaze and a small smile spread across her lips. Jasper wanted to kiss her. He wanted to make her smile always.

  “I can understand that. I have never really been anywhere other than Wiltshire and London, but I like the idea of visiting other places. Paris perhaps, or even America.”

  He shook his head. “I do not think you will ever fail to surprise me.”

  “I surprise myself, in truth. I had not realised I wanted these things until very recently.”

  Jasper reached across the table and twined his fingers with hers. “And there are other things you want too?”

  “Yes, I believe there are.”

  “Then I look forward to showing you the world, Hettie.”

  She tilted her head and eyed him. “We are very different, Jasper.”

  “Indeed. And would it not be so very dull if we were the same?”

  “That is true, and as we know, you loathe anything dull.”

  Glancing at her mangled sandwich, he signalled for the bill. “I take it you are not going to finish that.”

  “No, I can’t find my appetite.”

  “Well, we have several more women’s charities to visit now. The next one is just around the corner.”

  “What if we’re searching in the wrong place?”

  “In spite of her choices, Emma is no fool. She will have sought help once her funds ran out, I’m sure of it.”

  “You seem to have much more faith in my sister’s intelligence than I do.”

  Jasper considered their meeting and how she’d come to him knowing of his friendship with Brandon. Well, what used to be a friendship. Now he had ideas of at least breaking his nose if not calling him out for a duel. But, anyway, Emma had been clear and concise in her needs, and not at all flustered.

  “She is related to you, is she not?” he said to Hettie as they left and forewent a carriage in favour of walking around the corner.

  Shoppers and a few beggars crowded the streets. Carriages moved slowly in this part of town, winding between the tall buildings and clogging up the roads. Jasper offered her his arm and took a moment to glance down at her. His admiration for her grew with every second and, with that, his attraction to her. Were it not for their important mission, he’d be sorely tempted to take her back to the hotel and see what other ways they could make love without risking her innocence.

  The next charitable institution was one for destitute mothers and children. No one guarded the doors so he entered with Hettie. Though the building was elegant and the charity likely well-funded by society ladies, there was an air of abandonment to the place. Somewhere in the distance a child cried and several ladies in severe clothing hurried back and forth. He tapped his foot and waited by a walnut desk that lined the marbled reception hall, but he was thoroughly ignored.

  Hettie tried to get the attention of one of the women. “Excuse—” She paused and narrowed her gaze at the steps leading upstairs. “Emma?”

  A young woman froze on the stairs and a burst of relief rushed through him. Hettie hastened forward and marched up the steps to drag Emma into her arms. Jasper allowed himself a small smile. Once they were settled, he would speak with Emma about what she wanted to do and if she still wanted help from him, but for now he’d let them enjoy your reunion.

  “Emma,” the word came o
ut on a sob from Hettie, but Emma remained stiff in her arms. Hettie eased back to cup her face and even from where he was, he saw Hettie’s face drop. “Emma?” She skimmed a finger over a dark mark on her cheek. “What is this?”

  Jasper clenched his fists when Emma extracted herself from her sister’s grasp and walked down the steps. She swung a surprised look at him. “Lord Jasper? Whatever are you doing here?”

  “I was helping your sister find you.” He glanced at the dark mark on her face. “Has someone hurt you?”

  She put a hand to her cheek and shook her head. Hettie gripped her arm and urged her sister to face her. “Emma, that mark...” She peered around and dropped her voice. “You’re with child?”

  He didn’t know how she’d figured that out from a dark mark on her sister’s cheek, but at least the truth was out. He hadn’t been happy that Emma hadn’t wanted to share her secret with her family, but he couldn’t very well force the girl.

  Emma nodded slowly.

  “With that man?” Hettie prompted.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you not tell someone? Why run away? Emma, I’ve been frantic. Aunt has been riddled with guilt.”

  “You did not tell Mama and Papa, did you?”

  “Of course not. But you’ll have to tell them now.”

  “No, I cannot. I’m going to stay here and give birth to the baby. They can arrange for an adoption. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to you, Lord Jasper. There was no time.” She glanced his way but he kept his mouth shut. He doubted Hettie would take well to the news that he had intended to adopt the baby.

  Hettie swung her gaze to him, her eyes wide. “You knew of this?

  Jasper drew in a breath and edged closer to Hettie. “Emma came to me when she discovered she was with child. I offered her assistance.”

  Her face grew ashen and she darted her gaze between them. “You cannot be serious?” She turned to Emma. “Why did you not come to me for help? Why would you give away your baby, Emma? I could have taken care of it. You could have given it to me or the orphanage.”

  “How could I tell you?” Emma declared. “You would have scolded and lectured me. I know well that I’ve been a fool but I didn’t need to hear it from my perfect sister.”

 

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