A Gentleman for Judith (The Wednesday Club Book 1)

by Sahara Kelly

  Maud turned to Judith. “May he?”

  “I think he’d better, don’t you?” She freed her arm, fastened her ribbon, squared her shoulders and turned to Ragnor with a charmingly elegant look on her face. “I believe this is our dance, Sir Ragnor.”

  Maud couldn’t help a chuckle. “You’re on your own, Sir Ragnor. But you have my blessing.”

  “I think I’ll need it,” he answered wryly.

  At last.

  Judith smiled.

  At last she was in his arms, resting hers in the correct position for the dance, praying she’d remember the steps and not be distracted by the warmth and the scent of a man. She was where she’d imagined being far more times than she’d ever admit, and it was so much better in reality.

  His body moved fluidly, surprising her, guiding her with easy and natural twists and turns, helping her forget that she was actually dancing and encouraging her to enjoy the sensation of being held by a man.

  A warm palm burned through the light silk of her gown into her spine, and she shivered as she felt his fingers move a little against her.

  God, if that skin were bare…

  Swallowing, she risked a glance at his face. His grey-blue eyes were fastened on her own, his lips barely curved into a smile and a lock of his fair hair had fallen loose. The muscles beneath those elegantly tailored sleeves were evident, and for the first time she sensed a strength in him that was purely physical.

  He didn’t look like a powerful man upon initial inspection, but she now had a better idea of what he might well be concealing from the rest of the world.

  A quick spin took them out of the path of another couple, and Judith found herself even closer to Ragnor; her breasts were firmly held against his chest.

  He knew. She could tell. His hand moved again, the fingers spreading over her back and pressing her close, his waistcoat abrading nipples that sprang to life immediately. She prayed the decorations on her bodice would keep that fact secret.

  But oh, this was such a rare pleasure, such an arousing few moments. To be whirled around a beautiful room in the arms of the most attractive man present…to feel his interest growing, not only with his looks but—now and again—from the sensation of a bulge in his breeches nudging against her thighs.

  Glad she’d read some of the Cytherean Tales, Judith knew what was happening to her, and to him. It excited her beyond belief, and although frowning in confusion over a few of the details in those stories, she was developing a much better idea of what had happened between Madame Givèrne and the Masked Highwayman.

  Her heart was thundering as the dance came to an end, and she had to pull her self-control out of her slippers in order to manage the polite applause. She dreaded the walk back to Maud.

  But instead, Ragnor led her in the other direction, casually this time, as if unwilling to attract attention. He stopped once or twice on the way, bowing, smiling and exchanging a brief word.

  Judith, still trying to get her feet firmly back on the ground, followed him willy-nilly. Until they wound up tucked into a small corner off the card room where there were no chairs, few candles and a very large potted plant surrounded by vases of chrysanthemums.

  “Sir Ragnor…” she said, looking over her shoulder. “We should not…”

  “We absolutely should.”

  He put his hands either side of her face, tilted it upward—and proceeded to deliver her first kiss. Followed by another of even greater strength.

  She struggled for all of half a second, then threw her arms around his neck and gave as good as she got.

  *~~*~~*

  “Oh excellent, here you are. We’ve been looking for you.”

  Lydia Davenport’s voice penetrated the fog that had descended on Ragnor’s brain and blocked out any and all thoughts except those focussed on the woman in his arms.

  They rapidly parted, Judith’s skirts whooshing against the plants and flowers, and almost knocking over a vase. Fortunately, both parties managed a middling degree of aplomb, and it was a shadowy area, dark enough to hide their blushes.

  “I needed to catch my breath,” said Judith, her voice calm. “Sir Ragnor suggested a quieter place. And he was right.” She turned to him. “Thank you, sir. I really do feel much better now.”

  “Entirely my pleasure, Miss Judith.” His hand squeezed her bottom. “Any time at all.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” said Lydia making her way around the plants. “It is quite warm in the ballroom. Everyone seems to be dancing and there’s scarce room to breathe.” She nodded, completely unaware of the improper location of Sir Ragnor’s hand.

  “Anyway, we need to speak with you.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh good. Here he is.”

  Matthew finally appeared, juggling a small tray with glasses and a plate of delicacies. “Wasn’t sure I’d make it with this.” He looked at the tray. “I have a much greater respect for servants after making this trip. Is there somewhere we could sit down, d’you think?”

  Ragnor wasn’t certain he wanted to move, since Judith’s buttock fitted his hand perfectly. He’d be happy to stay there just a little longer, especially since his current state of arousal had yet to diminish.

  However, it was not to be.

  “If we can turn down that corridor without being noticed, there’s a little receiving room on the right. Just a couple of tables and chairs, but it should serve our purpose.” Judith looked at Lydia. “This is about what we discussed? The…er…fainting lady and her problem?”

  Lydia nodded. “Yes. And it turns out there’s more.” She gathered her skirts. “Let’s find that room so we can discuss it all.”

  Ragnor was loth to release his delightful handful, but did so on a sigh that only Judith heard. She flashed him a quick look, one filled with a mix of amusement and interest. At least he hoped that’s what he saw.

  He leaned close as they all moved and whispered, “to be continued, Miss Fairhurst.”

  She smiled, a sensual twist of her lips. “I shall look forward to it.”

  Within moments, the sounds of music and chatter were left behind and the four closeted themselves into a small ante-chamber, lit by only a few candles.

  “Right,” said Matthew. “Lydia told me about Fiona’s earring. This whole business with Rolfe is getting out of hand, and that was the final straw.”

  “What else is going on, then?” Judith frowned.

  “Cheating, Miss Fairhurst.” Ragnor leaned forward and took a raspberry tart. “A friend of Matthew’s lost a considerable sum several nights ago, and swears he was cheated.”

  “At Lord Rolfe’s, I assume?”

  “Yes,” answered Ragnor. “And both Matthew and I believe him. He isn’t one to prevaricate, and he does know his way around a hand of cards. If he was tricked, he would most likely recognise it. And he saw nothing amiss. But he knew, all the same.”

  “Did he say anything?” She looked at Ragnor and then at Matthew. “I’m not sure about the correct manner of handling such a situation, but shouldn’t he have gone to Rolfe directly?”

  “He would have, but Rolfe was not on the premises that evening.” Matthew shook his head.

  “Well, then.” Judith sat back. “Did you tell them about Fiona’s earring, Lydia?”

  “She may have told Matthew, but I know nothing about it. Please elucidate.” Ragnor ordered. He needed something to take his mind off Judith and her incredibly creamy décolletage.

  So the next few moments were spent on explanations, and the conversation then drifted to suggested activities.

  Both Matthew and Ragnor were ranged on the side of caution.

  “I don’t like it, nor do I care for Lord Rolfe himself,” said Ragnor. “But one false step on our parts and we give him a major victory and besmirch our own reputations. To charge a man with operating a dishonest gambling establishment is a serious accusation, and we’d better have some damned strong proof before we go public.”

  Matthew agreed. “He’s right. Much
as I’d love to punch him in the nose and retrieve Fiona’s earring, I’d be cast as the wrongdoer and Fiona’s reputation would still be shattered.” He paused. “Unless I found him alone in a back alley.”

  “But then he’d be unlikely to have the earring on him, wouldn’t he?”

  Judith listened, then offered her own thoughts. “It would be nice to have someone on the inside of the club, wouldn’t it?” She spoke quietly, but they heard. “Someone who could investigate both situations.”

  “Yes, it would,” said Matthew. “But I can’t see that happening.”

  The discussion continued, ideas being tossed out, suggestions and potential actions being considered—and eventually discarded.

  Finally, Ragnor rose. “We’ll be missed shortly. Much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Miss Judith. We need somebody on the inside of Lord Rolfe’s establishment. Someone who can spot a cheater and who won’t be spotted by Lord Rolfe.”

  Judith nodded. “That does make a lot of sense…”

  “It’s logical, all right.” Matthew’s fist clenched. “But I’m still not discarding the punch in the nose suggestion.”

  His sister also stood, rolling her eyes. “Not every problem is solved with fisticuffs,” she admonished.

  “Says the woman who gave her governess a black eye when she was made to forfeit a junior hunt, and stay indoors to repeat a French lesson.”

  Lydia merely swept out of the room with her nose in the air.

  Judith snickered and followed her.

  Chapter Eleven

  T he first Wednesday Club event to feature dancing was a stupendous success, and Sydenham House was the recipient of so many flower deliveries the following morning, Hobson voiced his thoughts about changing his title to Head Gardener.

  Judith chuckled as she overheard his grumbles, but had to admit he had a valid point. The foyer was rapidly filling with bouquets and floral offerings tendered to Lady Maud. There was even one addressed to Sir Laurence—a somewhat subdued mix of greenery and a couple of early hellebores, their white petals contrasting nicely with the evergreen needles.

  “Hah.” Sir Laurence looked askance as he read the card. “Chuffy Bonahue. He lost four hands of whist last night.”

  “To you?” Judith peeked at him over the flowers.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that was quite nice of him to make a floral gesture this morning. Thanking you for the game, I suppose…?”

  “Not likely,” he snorted. “He knows I know something about hellebore.”

  “You do?” Judith was surprised.

  “Yes. Several varieties are poisonous.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip. “Oh dear.” They exchanged looks and laughed, both sharing a sense of the absurd.

  “At least you can say you were sent flowers, Sir Laurence.”

  “True.” He nodded. “I suppose half of these are yours?” His eyes roamed the colourful display.

  “Actually, only two,” she replied. “The rest are all for Lady Maud. Who deserves every one of them, without question. Last night was…perfect.” She sighed the last word.

  “Any interesting games?”

  “Pardon?” Her heart skipped a beat.

  “Piquet. Did you play any piquet?”

  “Oh. Oh, no. No card games.” She collected her errant thoughts. “It was all about the music. Dancing was such fun, and I think everyone was terribly pleased they had the chance to do so this late in the Season.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he gave her an avuncular pat on the shoulder. “I can’t make our game this morning, I’m afraid. Some idiot has called a meeting at the club.”

  “I shall miss it, of course, but I have cards to write, and I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help Lady Maud.”

  “Make sure both of you get some rest. Yesterday was quite busy.” He nodded and walked toward his study, leaving Judith with a card in her hand. It had come attached to a small bouquet of white rosebuds.

  She recognised the seal and broke it open to read the words inside.

  “Come and view the Elgin Marbles with me this morning at eleven o’clock. Unless I hear otherwise, I will send my carriage for you at a quarter to the hour.”

  It was signed with the scrawled initials “R.W.”

  Judith took a breath. Well, it wasn’t exactly a love-note. Or a ‘thank you for a wonderful evening’, or ‘I enjoyed our dance’, or ‘it was lovely to squeeze your bottom for a few moments’…

  She rolled her eyes at herself and went in search of Lady Maud.

  “Of course you may go,” said the lady when asked. She put down her quill and blotted her signature, adding it to the growing pile beside her.

  “Thank-you notes?” Judith raised her eyebrows as she glanced at the number of cards.

  “Some are. Others are invitations to our next meeting. It’s going to be in two weeks, and I think we might be able to squeeze one more in before the winter, but that will depend on the responses to this upcoming evening.”

  “May I help? You seem to have a lot more to do…”

  Maud shook her head. “No, really, I do better just picking away at these things. In addition, there are some decisions to be made about the guest list for next time, and this is the best chance I have to review my thoughts.”

  “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Judith turned to leave, then paused. “I should take a maid?”

  “Yes, definitely. Take Susan.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Oh, Judith?”

  She stopped by the door. “Yes?”

  “It is acceptable to leave one’s maid near the entrance of the museum. There are benches there for that purpose. No sense in dragging the poor girl along behind you when she can have a chance to sit for a while.”

  “What a good idea,” answered Judith.

  Maud’s smile was one of charming innocence. “Yes, isn’t it?” Her eyes, however, were twinkling in the wickedest of ways.

  Judith left before the blush she could sense rising burst forth and betrayed her.

  So within the hour, two young ladies stood waiting for Sir Ragnor’s carriage, which arrived promptly at a quarter to eleven, and carried the gentleman himself.

  “Good morning.” He tipped his hat and bowed correctly, helping Judith into the carriage and seeing that her maid was settled next to her. He hopped in, closed the door, and they were on their way.

  “This is a lovely idea, Sir Ragnor. Thank you for thinking of it.” She looked out the window at the scurrying pedestrians wrapped warmly against the cold morning air.

  “My pleasure, Miss Fairhurst. I recall you mentioning your interest in seeing the Elgin exhibit and discovered that I myself had yet to do so. What better than for us to see them together for the first time?”

  “Quite so, sir. An excellent opportunity.” She nodded. “And do you have an opinion on Lord Elgin’s presentation?”

  Their conversation turned to the latest uproar about the validity of Elgin’s claims to the statues, and Lord Byron’s violent opposition to their removal from Greece.

  It lasted until they arrived at the entrance to the museum where the carriage disgorged its occupants, and all three walked up the impressive stone steps to enter the portal to the past.

  As Maud had mentioned, there were indeed benches set near the door, so Judith gave Susan leave to wait there while she and Sir Ragnor strolled through the exhibits.

  Susan, obedient girl that she was, merely curtseyed her thanks and sat, folding her cloak around her and leaning back with a sigh of relief against the wall.

  Ragnor took Judith’s arm, tucked it within his, and led them off to see the Marbles.

  A few turns later, he glanced down at her, his eyes more blue than grey this morning. “I’m glad you came.”

  She smiled up at him. “So am I.”

  His gaze lingered on her lips, and she felt that strange warmth begin deep inside her body. It was turbulent and disturbing, and she wasn’t su
re if she really liked it. All she knew was that it happened whenever Ragnor was near, and especially when he looked at her like that. Or touched her. Or…

  “Here they are.”

  She glanced around with interest, finding herself in a large room with a massive frieze going halfway up the walls. Above them was a darker stone, and pieces of other magnificent friezes were mounted at regular intervals, almost as if they stood on a stone shelf.

  On the floor, on large plinths, were two imposing statues, and others stood in a huge niche toward the back of the room. It was breathtaking, and for a few moments, Judith just stared.

  “Impressive, aren’t they?”

  She shook her head. “I’m at a loss for words. Such amazing detail…it’s overwhelming.” She couldn’t avoid noticing that two of the most prominent sculptures were male. And nude. Although bits of them were missing.

  They strolled around, silent, absorbing the enormity of the works, the talents of those who had created them, and the lives they had portrayed in stone.

  “It’s…well, I still can’t find the right words.” She sighed. “Although after seeing this, I understand Byron’s arguments a little better.”

  “We’ll see more in a minute, but there’s something else we need to do first.” Ragnor moved her away from the statues and down another corridor. He paused in front of a door, opened it, and whisked her inside, locking it behind them.

  “What…” She blinked against the darkness. The only light was from the little window above the door. Stepping back, her foot hit a bucket. “This is the cleaners’ cupboard?”

  “At this moment, it’s our room. Come here.”

  Judith barely had chance to obey before he had her in his arms.

  *~~*~~*

  He found her mouth with his, hungry to taste her once more. She’d haunted him all night, he’d slept poorly, and awoken with one overriding urge.

  Well, two actually, but the only one he could indulge himself in was to dash off an invitation to Judith for this trip to the museum. The other urge would be satisfied but it would take longer. He’d have to be patient.