by Burke, Darcy
He lifted a shoulder. “It was well known amongst the young bucks.” He winced, and she didn’t think it was due to physical pain this time. “I’m sorry, Miss Pemberton. I never would have said anything if I thought you didn’t know.”
She appreciated his sympathy. And the fact that he would have spared her this information. Except he’d apparently believed it? She stalked back to the bedside and narrowed her eyes at him. “You thought it was true.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. He stared at her, then averted his gaze. “As I said, I didn’t think of it. I’d forgotten. It’s ancient history.” He tried to smile, but she could tell it wasn’t genuine, that he was trying to make her feel better.
“It hardly signifies. It likely ruined me as effectively—more effectively, even—than moving out of my parents’ house.” Groaning in frustration, she spun about and strode to the corner, where she flopped into a chair and leaned back, stretching her legs before her in a most unladylike fashion. But dammit, if people were going to say she wasn’t a lady, why should she behave like one? “Do you want to know what’s most enraging?”
“What?”
“The fact that I have a scandalous reputation without even the benefit of enjoying it. You’re a rake and a rogue. But at least it’s true, and you’ve claimed the rewards.” Scowling, she clasped the arms of the chair and squeezed. “What’s more, I will likely never get the chance now.”
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
She riveted her gaze to his across the room. “I won’t ever have the opportunity to experience physical pleasure.”
“Ah, I think I can safely assure you that you will not have difficulty attracting any gentleman you choose for the purposes of experiencing physical pleasure.”
She glowered at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re attractive, alluring, and many other…things.” His voice cracked a bit. “Any man would be glad—and fortunate—to tup you.”
She launched out of the chair and walked to the other side of the bed. Lowering herself to the mattress, she sat on the edge. “Does that include you?” It was a daring question, and she hadn’t thought too much about it before saying it aloud. In fact, she hadn’t considered it at all.
“I—” He stared at her, his jaw clenching as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Yes, of course.” His gaze remained steady with hers, and something deep in her core kindled to life.
“I know how you can repay me,” she said with a certainty that surprised her almost as much as what she said next. “You can relieve me of my virginity.”
* * *
Time seemed to stop as Anthony stared at Miss Pemberton. Had she just asked him to relieve her of her virginity? Who did she think he was, the Marquess of Ripley? Rather, Ripley before he’d fallen in love with Phoebe?
Hell, maybe she did. Anthony had done his best to replace Marcus as London’s Most Notorious Rake. He hadn’t set out to do so, but that had been the result, apparently.
“I am, ah, flattered, Miss Pemberton, but I’m afraid I’m not the sort of gentleman who—”
She held up her hand and narrowed her eyes at him briefly. “You are precisely that sort of gentleman. Or at least you have been the past year or so. Ever since your—”
“There’s no need to delve into particulars.” He couldn’t let her say it out loud. Even so, the end of her sentence crashed around in his brain. Ever since your parents died.
Her gaze fixed on him for an uncomfortable moment. He sought to redirect the topic. Quickly.
“Why on earth do you want to divest yourself of your virginity?”
Her brow creased. “Divest myself? It’s not a cloak.”
He wanted to laugh at her quip, but did not. This was serious. “No, it’s not. You can put a cloak back on, and once gone, your virginity will be lost forever.”
“I doubt I shall miss it,” she said. “It’s come to my attention that sexual activity is rather, er, pleasant, and I should like to experience it for myself.”
“Pleasant.” Anthony’s gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts and the lush contours of her heart-shaped mouth. “That’s not the word I would use to describe sex or any of the things leading up to the act itself.”
She looked skeptical and maybe a bit horrified. “It’s not pleasant?”
“It is, but I’d perhaps describe it as thrilling. Rapturous. Perhaps even heavenly.”
Jane laughed, and he couldn’t help but smile in return.
“You have the most infectious laugh,” he murmured.
“Thank you. I think. I’d hate to be infectious like a disease.”
“Never that,” he said. Though if she were, he’d gladly become ill. Did that mean he would accept her proposal? No, he couldn’t. And yet, he understood her dilemma. She was young, with little chance for marriage. Could he blame her for wanting to experience physical gratification?
Anthony tipped his head to the side. “Do you pleasure yourself?”
Her eyes widened just before she averted her gaze. Then she stood and put several feet between herself and the bed—and him. “Yes.”
That single word aroused every part of him. His blood surged in his head, his cock.
“But I don’t think I’m very good at it.”
Holy hell. What was he supposed to do with that information?
You could help her.
“How would you know?” The question fell from his mouth before he could think it through, but he realized it was a logical query. If she’d never had an orgasm, how would she know if she’d had one?
His head was starting to hurt again. Just as his cock was starting to throb. He adjusted the bedclothes to hide his erection. This was unacceptable. He couldn’t lust after one of his sister’s friends. Even if she was caring, beautiful, and asking him to pleasure her.
“You’re considering it,” she said, sounding surprised. She hadn’t expected him to agree. And he wasn’t going to!
“You’re a lady. And Sarah’s friend. I couldn’t do what you’re asking.”
“Then why ask about me pleasuring myself?”
“Because it seems the least I could do is show you how to do that.”
She arched a brow and contemplated him a moment. “And why should that be you? You can’t have experience in showing a woman how to find pleasure.”
He pinned her with a smoldering stare as heat built inside him. “I can tell you precisely where to put your fingers and how to move them to provoke a release that will make you scream in ecstasy.”
“How?” The single word came out high and breathy. Utterly arousing. This conversation was driving him to the very brink.
God, he wanted to invite her back to the bed, toss her skirts up, and show her. “You are testing my restraint.” While she sounded breathless, he sounded tortured. Because he was.
“Good. Does that mean you agree?”
“No.” But she was right—he was considering it. “Dammit, you’ve cast a spell on me. Perhaps you put something in the headache tonic.”
She sauntered toward the bed, her hips swaying in a devastatingly provocative fashion. “Could I?”
Not that he knew of. Anyway, it wasn’t necessary. She was quite capable of captivating him all on her own. He scowled at her. “You’re making this difficult.”
A bright smile lit her face. “Good. I promise this will remain a secret—just between us. And you’ll take precautions to prevent a child.”
Bloody, bloody hell. Of course he would. He couldn’t have a child. He didn’t deserve one. Pain—not the physical kind—seared through him. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
She sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Not yet, but I’ve several days to convince you before you return home.”
He needed to go home now. Before she seduced him. In all honesty, it wouldn’t be that hard. Just thinking of what he wanted to do to her was sending him into a fit of desire.
“I should go home t
omorrow.”
She frowned. “No. We have an agreement. You’re staying at least a week.” When he didn’t argue, she stood up again, her gaze sweeping over him and lingering ever so briefly on his pelvic region.
“I’ll move back to the other chamber tomorrow.”
As she leaned toward him, her eyes sparked with heat. “If you decide to accept my proposition, you don’t have to.”
“Jane.” He swallowed. “Miss Pemberton. If I decide to accept your proposition, I will still refuse to share your bed. As you said, this would be a secret, between us alone, and I will not be so blatant in our…activity.” Damn, he certainly sounded as if he was about to agree.
“However you wish. I’ll let you set the rules,” she said.
The word “rules” only heightened the lust spiraling through him. Or maybe it was that she would relinquish control to him entirely. He felt light-headed with want.
He managed to form a few words. “We’ll see what happens. Now, will you go?” If he didn’t frig himself, he was going to be miserable come morning.
“I will. And thank you for considering my request. I must admit, after hearing you talk tonight, I find I’m more curious than ever. I do hope you’ll agree. If not, perhaps you can recommend someone else.”
He bloody well would not! “No. That I will never do.”
“Then I suppose it will have to be you.” She gave him a final saucy smile, then departed.
Anthony leaned his head back and groaned. This could be very bad. She wanted him. He wanted her. No one knew he was here, and no one need ever know what went on between them. The temptation was overwhelming and impossibly real.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Chapter 4
Culpepper walked into the garden room, carrying a small basket. “Miss Pemberton, may I present your kitten.”
Jane jumped up from the table where she’d been sipping tea and met him in the middle of the room. “You found one!”
“I did, and if I may say so, she’s quite frisky. I might believe she would cause the ruckus you blamed on her the other day during your meeting.”
Laughing, Jane peeked into the basket where the bundle of fur was curled into a tiny ball. “Maybe we should have gotten two,” she said. “She looks lonely.”
“In fact, there was a sister. Would you like me to fetch her too?”
Jane looked up at him. “Could you?” These kittens might be the only companionship she’d ever have.
She flinched inwardly. She was just feeling sorry for herself after her conversation with Lord Colton the night before. Thinking back, she felt a mix of embarrassment for making the proposition, as well as irritation because he’d clearly wanted to accept but was keeping himself from doing so. Was she that resistible?
Apparently so. The rumor he’d revealed also rose in her mind and made her upset all over again. She’d been denied the opportunity to make a match, so yes, it might very well be that this kitten—and her sister—would be her only companions.
Taking the basket from Culpepper, she reiterated her wish for the second kitten. “Please fetch her sister at once. I would feel terrible for splitting them up.”
He inclined his head. “As you wish, Miss Pemberton.” He turned and left, and Jane went to sit on the settee. She set the basket next to her, and the kitten poked her head up. Yellow eyes stared up at Jane from an adorable tawny striped face.
“Well, aren’t you the sweetest thing?” Jane murmured.
The kitten mewed softly as Jane set her in her lap. “What shall I call you?”
In answer, the kitten stretched her front paws out and sank her claws into Jane’s gown. “Careful, don’t ruin it,” Jane said without much heat. What did she care if one of her day gowns was ruined? She was probably on her way to becoming a lady hermit. Perhaps she should move out to a folly on some eccentric duke’s property. Then she could have a dozen cats. Or more.
Jane giggled, and the cat turned in her lap, gazing up at her with those beautiful golden eyes. “You are so pretty. Perhaps I will call you Jolie. That’s French for pretty. Or maybe you need a yellow name to match your gorgeous eyes. Sunny? Daffodil? Oh, I like that.”
The kitten jumped from Jane’s lap onto the settee and began to explore the cushions. Jane picked up the basket to set it on the floor and noticed a ball of yarn inside. “Is this for you?” she asked, taking it out and placing it on the settee.
Daffodil’s eyes widened briefly as she saw the yarn. She squatted down, her backside wiggling, then she leapt forward and attacked the ball. It tumbled to the floor, and Daffodil followed, batting it around and chasing where it rolled.
Grinning at the kitten’s antics, Jane felt better than she had all day. Perhaps last night hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought. Colton had flirted a little bit, at least. And when he’d asked her if she’d pleasured herself… Well, that had kindled something deep inside Jane, something she’d tried to satisfy when she returned to the guest chamber. She couldn’t help but think that he could at least help her in that regard—even if she had told him he couldn’t know how to. Clearly, she’d been wrong.
A wave of heat rushed over her, driving her to jump up and pace. Just as had happened half the night, her mind turned to the rumor that had ruined her. How had she never known it existed? It certainly explained why her first Season had been such a disappointment. She’d had interest—several men had paid calls. Had they suddenly stopped? She couldn’t recall. She did, however, remember that her mother and father had wondered why none of them had progressed to making an offer. They’d blamed Jane for not being charming or interesting enough, something Jane knew wasn’t true.
And yet, doubt had niggled at the back of her mind ever since. Doubt she didn’t share with anyone, least of all herself. Except when she was being most honest or feeling most vulnerable. As she was now.
Oh, blast it all. She’d left home and declared her spinsterhood precisely so she could stop worrying about such things. Who cared if she’d been ruined?
You do.
Yes, she did. Her future had been stolen, and she wanted to find out who had done it. And why.
Her pacing became more vigorous, her skirts swirling about her feet as she crisscrossed the room. Then she felt a tug and looked down to see Daffodil attacking the hem, her paws swatting at the moving fabric.
Jane couldn’t help but smile, then bent to scoop the kitten into her hands. “We are going to have such fun. Especially when your sister arrives.”
Loud voices carried down the stairs and into the garden room where Jane stood just near the door. Carrying Daffodil, Jane hurried upstairs toward the sound—her bedchamber. Not quite her bedchamber, but her sitting room. Inside, Lord Colton stood arguing with Meg.
“My lord, you aren’t supposed to leave your bed.”
“Then why make my laundered clothing accessible?” he asked, rather astutely. He wore his breeches and shirt, but nothing else.
Jane couldn’t help but take in his bare feet and calves and the triangle of his chest and neck that were revealed by the opening of his shirt. She looked to Meg, who stood with a hand on her hip as she regarded Lord Colton with likely well-earned irritation. “I’ll handle this, Meg,” Jane said as Daffodil squirmed out of her arms and jumped to the floor.
Meg startled. “Oh!”
“This is Daffodil,” Jane said as the kitten began exploring the room.
“She’s so cute!” Meg squealed. “I’ll have Cook make her something to eat. She’d like that, wouldn’t she?” The maid turned to Jane.
“I’m sure. And yes, we need to establish a place for her to eat. The kitchen, I suppose?”
Meg nodded. “You may also want to feed her somewhere else too, at least while she’s small. She needs to eat enough so she can grow into a big, strong cat.” Meg squatted down, and Daffodil came to sniff her. She then allowed the maid to stroke her head.
“Meg, will you also see that the bedding is changed in the gues
t chamber, as Lord Colton will be moving there.”
“Such a good girl,” Meg murmured before standing up. “I’ll take care of it, miss.” Then she pivoted and left without giving Lord Colton so much as a parting glance.
Jane turned her attention to him. “Please don’t annoy the servants.”
He blinked in innocence, and she was drawn to just how awful he looked today. His face was a more brilliant array of color, and his right eye was still swollen. “Did I annoy her?”
“It seemed you might have. She was only enforcing what I said—that you need to remain in bed. The physician said bed rest for a week.”
“I hardly think he meant staying in an actual bed. In any case, I have to get up today so I can move to the guest chamber, don’t I?”
He had a point there. “Do you feel better?” It seemed he must since he was upright. And he’d dressed himself. She would have wagered he couldn’t do that without help. He certainly couldn’t have the day before.
“I do, actually. Head’s still a bit achy, and of course my face is a disaster, and my ribs pull here and there, but overall, I feel more human.”
That was good to hear. “You certainly don’t look better.”
He cracked a smile, which did not improve his appearance. “I did peek in the glass, and I’m afraid I must agree. Why you made me, of all people, that proposition last night is a mystery. I’m absolutely ghastly.”
Except he wasn’t. She recalled exactly how attractive he was underneath the damage, and she’d seen him nearly naked the other day. Ghastly was not a word she’d use to describe him, even in his current state.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better, but you still can’t go downstairs. I’ll help you to the guest chamber after the bedclothes are changed.”
“I suggest a compromise. I’ll go downstairs just until the bed is refreshed, and then I promise I’ll come back up.” He started toward her, and Daffodil took that moment to attack his foot.
The viscount wobbled and began to pitch forward. Jane rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and keeping him from falling. He was bloody heavy. She had to dig her feet into the floor and presumed he was also preventing himself from toppling over. She doubted she could have stopped him on her own.
