Always the Bluestocking

by Murdoch, Emily E K

  “Now, look,” he whispered.

  Mariah lowered her eye to the telescope and gasped. He felt the shock of delight rush through her.

  “That is incredible,” she breathed.

  “Those,” he whispered, “are the most recently discovered moons of Saturn. You see, Mimas and Enceladus?”

  “This is more than I could ever have dreamed,” she said softly, not lifting her eye from the telescope.

  Patrick felt the warmth of her in his arms, saw the joy in her soul. “Yes, I must agree.”

  After a few minutes, she lifted her gaze from the telescope but stayed encircled in his arms as she looked around the room.

  “Countless experiments have occurred in this place, and who knows how many more will discover incredible things.”

  Patrick swallowed and then breathed in her ear, “I am certain I have already discovered something incredible. Someone.”

  The words had escaped his soul. Why lie to her or himself? Yes, he wanted to bed her, but the idea of leaving her afterward…it tasted bitter.

  Mariah shifted in his arms, turning to look at him. Her eyes were wide, confused, but hopeful. “Do you…do you mean…me?”

  He did not have the words to reply, but his lips knew how to answer. He crushed them onto her, and she responded just as passionately, losing herself in the moment, allowing him to ravish her mouth.

  She moaned, and her pleasure urged him on, desperately clinging to her. His manhood was struggling against his trousers, and he knew what he wanted.

  But did she?

  Patrick broke the kiss despite everything that cried out for more and looked into her hazel eyes, now hazy with desire. “I am interested in a scientific experiment of a more…biological nature.”

  She blinked, and he wondered whether he needed to describe his desire more clearly, but then she smiled. “Why, Patrick O’Leary, I thought you would never ask.”

  Chapter Nine

  She wanted him. Patrick’s body was warm, and he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

  He would give her pleasure. There was no doubt in her mind about that. She could almost taste it, the sensation was so close. His confidence around her, around women in general, surely he had given and taken pleasure like any gentleman his age.

  The thought twisted her stomach. How would she compare to those nameless and faceless other women?

  But just one look at him and she knew he would worship her. He had wanted her for a while, and she could see the lust in his eyes, remembered those stolen kisses.

  Mariah swallowed. “And…and what do we do now?”

  Patrick laughed gently. “There is no rush. If this is to be a…a proper experiment, as you say, then we should probably take things slowly. See how you feel. Review the results as we create them.”

  It was impossible not to shiver with excitement. The telescope stood beside them, utterly forgotten.

  As she moved against him, he groaned. “God, Mariah, I can barely contain myself—but I must stay in control. I want to give you pleasure. Pleasure beyond pleasure. More than you could imagine or hope for.”

  His words seemed to sizzle in the air.

  “I trust you,” she whispered. “But what…what about a baby?”

  She blushed to say the words aloud, but she was not foolish enough to ignore the possibility. It was basic biology, after all, and she had understood the mechanics for years. It was all very well, taking pleasure when this unlikely moment offered it, but to leave a lasting reminder—or to permit society to ever discover what she had done…

  “You said to me once that you…you would never marry because you never wanted to run the risk of…of losing a person to childbirth.”

  A shadow passed over his face, and Mariah bit her lip. Perhaps she should not have mentioned it. Regret poured into her heart, but it was tempered by his bracing smile as he pulled something out of his waistcoat pocket.

  “A French letter,” he said quietly. “This should prevent any lasting consequences from tonight.”

  A flicker of hesitation passed through her body. What a marvelous coincidence he had such a thing on his person. Did he always carry one of those around with him? Or was this a carefully planned seduction? Had he been waiting for the right moment for days, hopeful of taking advantage of her eventually?

  Her hesitation must have been apparent on her face.

  Patrick cupped her cheek. “Yes, I have wanted you for a while. And I will always choose to protect you whenever I can.”

  His gentle tone, not forceful nor mocking, was the reassurance she needed.

  There was a hot fluttering in her chest, growing with each passing moment, and she did not understand it.

  Her lips knew what to do. They moved up to meet his own, and this kiss was different from the others they had shared. Deeper, more passionate, slower, his hands moving to cup her buttocks to bring her even closer.

  Mariah moaned into his mouth, and Patrick pulled away, cursing under his breath.

  She pulled back instinctively, but he tightened his grip.

  “I am sorry. You—by God, you have more influence over me than I thought possible, ceann beag.”

  “What does that mean?” The question was asked suspiciously.

  He smiled. “Little one. God, I have never known anything like this.”

  Mariah tilted her head. “So, this is an experiment for both of us?”

  Patrick nodded and finally released her, pulling off his greatcoat and jacket, dropping them onto the floor.

  She did not know what possessed her to do it, but something innate within her knew what to do next. She gently pulled at the ribbon of her pelisse, allowing it to fall to the floor along with his outer garments.

  This was happening so quickly, Mariah could barely think, but she was not past the point of no return yet. She was still in control. She could step away at any moment.

  If she wanted to.

  “I have always wondered,” Patrick said, his fingers clearly itching to pull her into his arms again, “what it would be like…to see you naked.”

  His words echoed around the room, and Mariah blushed, but any instinct to leave had disappeared. His voice was desperate, and in that moment, she realized something.

  He may be the experienced one, but she had the power. He wanted her badly, so badly that he would do anything for her.

  It was exhilarating, knowing that he would get on his knees and beg if she asked him to.

  “Well, then,” she said breathlessly, “perhaps this evening you can find out. I think it is worth the experiment.”

  Her fingers shook as they moved to the ties of her gown. Soon it was only one hand keeping the whole gown from falling to the floor and revealing herself.

  But before she allowed gravity to take control, she looked up. “But first, I want to see more of you.”

  The hunger was impossible to ignore, but Patrick did not appear disgusted or surprised.

  Instead, he smiled. His hands moved quickly, and soon both waistcoat and linen shirt had been removed.

  Mariah gasped. She had not been able to stop herself; he was like a Greek statue, like Leonardo’s Vesuvian man, which she had studied so closely.

  “You are…perfect,” she managed to say.

  Without thought, she stepped forward to touch him. Her fingertips scraped across tightly curled chest hair, and they tingled with his heat. She gained more courage, spreading her palm across his body.

  Patrick shuddered and appeared to lose all control. Grabbing at her hands to allow her gown to fall, he groaned at the sight of her naked body. She had not worn an undershift that day, it had been too hot, and her breasts pressed up against his chest as he pulled her into his arms.

  Mariah gasped. It was like nothing she had ever known, and could not have imagined the heat of their bodies together, the teasing sensations of her nipples against his chest.

  He groaned with pleasure and captured her mouth with his, losing himself in their kiss.r />
  When they finally broke apart for air, his hands had returned to her buttocks once more, and she gloried in the feeling of his hands all over her.

  “This is not,” Mariah said breathlessly, “the sort of experiment I would ever have expected to perform.”

  “And I never thought when I first saw you,” Patrick grinned, “tearing down that idiot at the wedding, that there was such fiery beauty in you. Inside and out. By God, cailín, you are something completely new, and I want you.”

  That was when Mariah fell hopelessly in love with him, the gentleman who opened up to her and had been so painfully honest, vulnerable even.

  He truly saw her.

  Sharing this moment with him was more special now. It was all she wanted from a lover and a potential husband. Everything about her cried out for him, and she had to know; it was imperative that she find out what he felt.

  Did he look at her in the same way? Was the same rush of love pouring through his veins? Was this, perhaps, the beginning of something more—not just an experiment, but a new way of being?

  Just as she opened her mouth to ask him, his hands reached to her breasts as his mouth kissed her neck.

  “Oh, Patrick!” The cry was instinctual, without any conscious thought. How was it possible that mere skin to skin contact was able to draw out of her such delight? It could not be, and yet each passing second brought her to more pleasure, her body closer to something she did not understand but knew she desperately wanted.

  “I am going to give you satisfaction now,” was the whisper in her ear as she whimpered, “and it will not be the only time. God, Mariah.”

  His right hand had left her breast and moved down her body, worshipping it at every moment, until it reached her secret place.

  “Patrick?”

  He kissed her and slowly moved a finger inside her, and she jerked, the sensation so unique, so overwhelming.

  “Patrick!”

  “Yes, say my name,” he moaned before he kissed her lips passionately once more.

  She could barely stand, her arms around his neck all that kept her upright. The gentle rhythm of his fingertips drew more and more bliss from her until her whole body seemed to be on fire, something deep and wonderful building in her stomach, radiating around her as though she was a star.

  He broke the kiss to whisper just five words. “Lose yourself in pleasure.”

  Mariah cried out with joy, his fingers reaching a fervent pitch, and suddenly her body exploded, the pleasure rocketing to every fiber of her being as his left arm helped her remain steady.

  And then it was over. Mariah opened her eyes. “Patrick.”

  He did not reply but lifted her and placed her down on the pile of their clothes before quickly pulling off his breeches.

  “Patrick, I feel…” Mariah barely knew how she felt. Every inch of her body seemed to glow, sparkles of joy seemingly just out of sight. She could see him now, all of him, and he was so wonderfully made. “I want…”

  “I know,” he said gruffly, nestling himself between her legs and pulling the French protective over himself. “Trust me, I want it, too. This may hurt, cailín.”

  But it did not. So lost in the hazy pleasure he had already given her, all Mariah felt when he plunged himself into her was a spike of decadence.

  “Patrick,” she moaned, “yes, more.”

  And he gave her more. Slowly but surely, that same rhythm he had so expertly created with his fingers started to build as he withdrew and then plunged himself into her. His arms encircled her, keeping her safe from the world, and his mouth worshipped her own, his tongue teasing more sensual delights.

  “I am so close,” she panted as he broke away. “More, Patrick, more!”

  “Christ! Mariah, yes!”

  He pounded into her as he exploded, and she followed him immediately, her body radiating more pleasure than she ever thought possible.

  Minutes passed until the world settled.

  “That was…” Mariah swallowed, trying to moisten her throat. “Patrick, that was…”

  He pulled himself from her and lay beside her, kissing her nose before pulling her into his arms. “I know.”

  It was glorious, lying here naked, luxuriating in the feeling of one another. She never wanted this moment to end. It never had to. They could hide away from the world here and never think about the consequences of their actions.

  When she woke up, it took a moment to think where she was. There appeared to be a telescope above her, and a person beneath her.

  A person?

  Patrick. Mariah peered down, trying not to move, and saw they were both naked.

  Something warm twisted in her heart. She had tried to be coy with him earlier that night—and it was still night, she could see the stars through the window—but she had not managed to prevent herself from losing her heart to him.

  No matter what quips she had made about it being an experiment, this was all suddenly very real. It did not make any sense; it was just how she felt. If she could spend every day of the rest of her life with him, she would—or at least, every day studying and every night like this.

  Mariah smiled. It was a heady thought, but she had to think of other things. The time, for example.

  As softly as she could, she nudged the sleeping Patrick. “Wake up.”

  “Hmm?”

  He opened an eye, and then both of them. “Ah. Hello.”

  “Hello,” she said, conscious of their nakedness. “I think…I know we need to go back. We cannot be found here.”

  She sat up and began reaching for her gown, but Patrick pulled her back. “We have a few hours, surely. Enough time for another experiment or three.”

  Mariah laughed as she freed himself from his grip. “I need to return home before anyone sees me creeping back at ridiculous o’clock in the morning!”

  He did not seem convinced but allowed her to stand up and start to dress. When she had finished the last tie of her gown, she stood by the telescope and looked down at him.

  He was magnificent. She had not had much experience in naked gentleman, of course, but from the anatomical drawings she had seen along with the paintings of ancient Greek and Roman gods, she had an idea.

  Patrick was far better than any god.

  “And just what do you think you are doing?”

  Mariah smiled. “Enjoying the view.”

  It was strange to be so bold, but Patrick was not offended. If anything, he appeared pleased.

  “You know, every time I believe I have understood you,” he said, rising to his feet, “you prove me wrong. Come on then, I suppose if we must go, we must.”

  Wearing a gown felt wrong, somehow. As Mariah waited for Patrick to pull his clothes on, she realized why. The last time she had worn a gown, she had been an innocent. Now she had lost that, even if she knew intellectually that it was just a physical line in the sand that society loved to obsess over.

  Something she had was gone, but in its place was an experience she would treasure for the rest of her days.

  She took one last sweeping look around the telescope room.

  “I am sure the Herschels will permit you to come back here,” Patrick said quietly.

  “I am sure they will,” she said, “but it won’t be the same. It won’t be like this, just the two of us, after…after our highly successful experiment.”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow as he pulled his greatcoat on. “Successful?”

  Mariah nodded. “I think so. What do you think?”

  Instead of answering, he leaned forward and kissed her. It started as a chaste kiss with lips closed, but Mariah responded so warmly that she ended up in his arms again. After a few minutes of heady kissing, he groaned and pulled away.

  “Do not think I want to stop,” he said severely, “but if I am to have any chance of getting you home, I must. Come on.”

  The distance from the observatory to her rooms was short, and they were once again standing outside the door.

  �
��Good evening, Lord Donal,” she said demurely, but her eyes flashed with invitation.

  Patrick sighed. “Damnit, Mariah.”

  He pushed her against her front door, and his fingers quickly moved underneath her skirts to reach her special place once more. Mariah leaned back and lost herself in the heady sensations—to think that anyone could walk past, see him teasing her, and bringing her to the peak of pleasure once more.

  This was the most wild and rebellious she had ever been, and any moment now—

  “Oh, Patrick!” She was forced to keep the cry of ecstasy as quiet as possible as her body climaxed around his hand.

  As she met his gaze, she saw the passion in his face and knew herself to be lost to him.

  What was she doing, falling in love with Patrick O’Leary?

  Chapter Ten

  Patrick could feel the panic rising and pushed it down with all his concentration as he looked around his drawing room. This was no time to lose his head.

  He had done everything in his power to get it right. Mariah would surely appreciate that and see the passion and devotion in this act.

  Or would she? What if he was wrong to even consider it in the first place? What if she hated it, saw it as offensive, or misunderstood his intentions?

  He swallowed and closed his eyes. This was getting him nowhere, this panic. The decision had been made with the best intentions, and tying himself up in knots was hardly going to make anything better.

  He would never do anything to upset Mariah, not after the connection they had shared last night. He had been closer to her than anyone had ever been in the world. It had just been him and her, together, entwined in their nakedness, loving each other.

  “Lose yourself in your pleasure.”

  A smile crept over his face as Patrick opened his eyes. He had bedded more than a few women in his time, but there was something special about Mariah.

  A bluestocking. His smile broadened. Mariah was a bluestocking, and it was only now that he could comprehend what that word truly meant. He had not understood it before he had met her, and now the complexity and the joy of it confused him and astounded him in equal measure.