Lady Wicked: Notorious Ladies of London Book 4

by Scott, Scarlett

  He cleared his throat. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “No one has ever said anything like that to me before, Sidney,” she said softly.

  “Then no one has ever appreciated you the way you deserve. Your mother is included in that company.”

  Anger on her behalf surged within him. How could anyone fail to see what a gem Julianna was? He had sensed it from the start, but his belief had only grown as he had spent more time in her presence. In a sea of so many ladies who were the same, she stood out with the brilliance of a blazing summer sun. He knew instinctively there would never be another woman like her who crossed his path.

  And he was that much more determined to keep her near. To keep her always.

  The smile on her lush lips struck him as melancholy.

  “What is this? Sadness?” He tugged on her foot in teasing fashion. “I cannot allow that on my watch. What makes you look so forlorn?”

  “Nothing. You will think me silly.”

  “Never,” he vowed, and meant it. There was not one bloody thing about her that was silly. “Tell me, Lady Perfect.”

  Her smile wavered. “You must cease calling me that. There has never been a greater misnomer in the English language.”

  “Now I do think you silly.” He gave her foot another playful pull. “Cease arguing, my lady. I am a connoisseur of ladies.”

  Hmm. Regrettable choice of words, that last bit. He saw the shadow cross the serenity of her countenance and knew it.

  She caught the bow of her upper lip between her teeth, worrying it. “I am certain you are.”

  “Julianna.”

  She pulled her foot from his grasp and rearranged her limbs and skirts, hiding herself completely. “The hour is late, and I should return to my chamber or risk being discovered flitting about in the night with you.”

  She was retreating from him, and all over his own stupid tongue. He could have kicked himself in the arse.

  He rose from the bench and dropped to his knees on the cool marble floor before her, ignoring the bite of the hard surface into his knees. He would stay thus all night for her if he had to.

  Sidney rested his palms on her skirts, on her thighs. The intimacy of the touch was not lost upon him. Heat shot up his arms. The connection between them was as potent as ever. His cock was more rigid and unforgiving than the marble.

  “Stay,” he implored softly. “Please, sweetheart. I did not mean to suggest I am a sybarite or a rakehell. I am neither of those things.”

  She nibbled on her Cupid’s bow again. “I do not think you are.”

  Thank Christ. Her good opinion of him was important. More important than anything.

  He flexed his fingers on her thighs, giving her a gentle squeeze through the layers keeping him from what he wanted most—her bare, delicious skin. “Then what is amiss? It is only a quarter past one. You stayed later last night.”

  Sidney was acutely aware of the dwindling days in her stay here at Farnsworth Hall as well. He had only so much time in which to ply his charm. To win her over. To earn her yes. To make her his betrothed, and soon, his wife.

  “I have enjoyed our time together,” she began.

  And he sensed a looming but. Where the devil had he gone wrong? Was he pursuing her too doggedly? Was it truly one stupid sentence which was causing her reticence?

  “I have enjoyed it as well.” He held her stare, drinking her in. The oil lamps set a glow in her cinnamon hair that lent her an ethereal air. “Do not go yet.”

  “You are older, handsome, sought-after, and infinitely more experienced than I am. I do not want to be pursued or courted because of your guilt over what occurred in the lake.”

  What had occurred in the lake had been the best moment of his bloody life. And what he felt for her now could not be further from guilt. It was all-consuming, a raging fire in his blood. She was the only woman he wanted. And though he had long believed love a lie, a clever fiction invented by artists and writers and poets, he now knew differently. His parents’ union had been one of convenience. But he had seen enough to know he did not wish that for himself. Not if he could have love.

  Not if he could have Julianna.

  He shook his head. “Can you truly not see yourself as I see you? Do you have no notion of how rare and special you are?”

  She worried her upper lip some more, and he had to stifle a groan. Watching her torture her delectable mouth was, well, torture.

  “Rare? Like the truffle?”

  God, she was priceless, this woman. He wanted to devour her. He wanted to kiss her and make love to her and never let her go.

  “Rare like Lady Julianna Somerset. The only woman I have ever wanted to make my wife,” he dared.

  She swallowed, and he tracked the movement down her creamy throat. The moment seemed heavy and alive. So very alive, and in a way no other moment in his life had been. A definitive moment. He felt it to his marrow.

  “Oh,” she murmured, her eyes wide.

  Wide and blue and brilliant and fringed with long, coppery lashes. Those eyes told him so much. The more time he spent with her, the easier it was for him to read her gaze and understand her emotions. She was nervous now. Hesitant, too. But…receptive. Hopeful.

  The time to press his suit was upon him, and he knew it.

  “Do you trust me, sweetheart?” he asked, slowly caressing her thighs through those hated barriers. To the devil with the silk and the petticoats and chemise.

  She paused for a breath longer than he would have preferred.

  But then she gave him the answer he had been seeking, and nothing else mattered.

  “Yes.”

  “Then lift your skirts to your waist,” he said.

  * * *

  Julianna stared down at Sidney, the man she had loved from afar for so long, on his knees before her, his big hands slowly setting her on fire as they caressed her through the voluminous skirt of her gown. He was Viscount Shelbourne, she reminded herself. Her closest friend’s older brother. Debonair and elegant and so terribly handsome without even trying, his air one of easy perfection and charm. He was the gentleman every lady longed for. The only gentleman she, in particular, had ever wanted.

  And she was terrified that she trusted him as much as she did. Her life had been marked by disappointment and—aside from Hellie—people who did not care for her when they should have. People who held her close when it suited them and then pushed her away when it did not. People such as Mama and Father who both, she had come to suspect, used her as a weapon against each other in one fashion or another.

  But Sidney was on his knees before her, imploring with those emerald eyes she had fallen into so many times, touching her, telling her everything she wanted to hear. Looking at her as if she were beloved to him. Whatever it was he wanted, she was going to give it to him. Even herself. Whatever he asked, it was his. She was his. She always had been.

  Eyes on his, she grasped her skirts in her fists, clutching handfuls of silk, and raised them slowly. Inch by inch. He had seen much of her before in the lake. And yet, he rested back on his bent knees, releasing his hold on her thighs to watch. The ribbon-trimmed hem slid past her shins. Cool night air kissed her skin through her stockings. Higher still, revealing her frilled drawers. She hesitated for only a moment before bunching all the layers of fabric around her waist and holding it there.

  She kept her knees tightly together, shielding the most intimate part of her from his view. There was nary a hint of her bare flesh on display, and yet she felt gloriously, wickedly naked before him. The way his gaze caressed her, taking in every bit of her from toe to hip, made all the coiled anticipation unleash itself within her, and so too a blinding rush of desire.

  She wanted him so badly, she would do anything to have him.

  “Christ, Julianna.” His hands were upon her once more, starting at her ankles and gliding over her calves. “You are a goddess.”

  She felt like one beneath his ardent attentions. “Sidney.”<
br />
  He caressed past her knees, leaving a maddening trail of fire in his wake as he moved higher, worshipping her thighs. “Part your legs for me.”

  His command was wicked. She could tell him no, push him away. Julianna knew that. She could flee, run from the temple, disappear into the night and pretend these boundaries had never been crossed.

  But she did not want to.

  Instead, what she wanted more than anything—more than her next breath, even—was more of every sin he was visiting upon her. And then some.

  She did as he asked, knowing it was wrong. No lady would reveal herself to a man who was not her betrothed or husband, would she? Julianna thought not. However, her capacity to deny herself what she wanted most—Sidney—was quickly dissipating. And the more he ran his hands over her, the higher the flames of her need grew.

  His head lowered. His hands remained on her thighs, but his mouth—oh! Although her stockings and drawers kept her bare skin from him, it hardly mattered. His lips were on her, kissing up her shins, to her knees. He caressed her inner thighs, parting them more, until the split of her undergarments sent night air over her, and she knew she was exposed to him, utterly.

  But any embarrassment lingering was banished by his groan of sheer appreciation.

  “You are so damned beautiful, Julianna,” he said. “Everywhere.”

  She believed him. He made her feel beautiful. Incomparable. He made her feel so much more than she had ever known possible.

  And then he made her feel more.

  His mouth was on her, moving, a promise, a temptation, a tease. Until she was almost writhing on the bench, desperate for more. Dear heavens, she had never imagined. Had never supposed…

  Lips closed over her, sucking.

  Her hips bucked. The most exquisite sensation rocked through her, beginning at her core and spiraling out. She moved against him, a gasp leaving her when something else happened.

  His tongue.

  Dear. Sweet. Merciful. Heavens. Above.

  His tongue was everywhere. Moving in rapid strokes, then slower and more leisurely, savoring her, harder and then softer, licking her up as if she were a delicacy laid before him. It was forbidden and yet so very delicious. Nothing had prepared her for this rush of feeling. For bliss so fervent and sudden, she lost control of herself.

  A moan tore from her lips. She clutched her skirts so tightly she was certain the wrinkles would be irreparable. And she did not give a damn. Not about her skirt, not about the wrongness of their actions, not about anything but his mouth on her, the pleasure he gave her.

  She wanted that tongue everywhere she could have it. And she never wanted him to stop. It was sudden, the rush that came over her, taking her by surprise. She quaked beneath his mouth, writhing against him, trying to get him deeper, harder, faster.

  “Oh, Sidney,” she cried out, stiffening.

  He groaned into her sex. “Yes, love. Spend on my tongue.”

  Wicked words.

  Wrong.

  This was sinful and depraved.

  She loved it. Loved him. She rocked against his face as a second wave crashed over her, this one more luxurious and luscious than the last. A calamity within her in the very best possible sense.

  He reared back on his haunches, his mouth glistening with the evidence of her desire. Her pulse was thrumming between her legs, and her body told her there was much more she needed. This had been the prelude to something wilder, better.

  If she but dared.

  “Sidney,” she said, finding her courage, her boldness. “Make love to me.”

  He stilled, his hands on her knees. “Julianna…”

  When he would have protested, she leaned forward and caught his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips, staying any other words he may have offered. She tasted herself, musky and strange. And then he groaned again, kissing her back with more ferocity than she had expected. He kissed her hard and fast, his tongue sliding into her mouth before he reared back, staring at her, breathless.

  “You do not know what you are asking for,” he said.

  “Yes,” she countered, “I do. And I want it very much. Give it to me, Sidney. Give me you.”

  “Christ.” He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead to hers. “You were reluctant enough about courting. What you ask of me now…”

  “What I ask of you is what we both want,” she argued, kissing him again.

  And again.

  And again.

  She kissed him until their tongues tangled. Until her mouth felt bruised and sore and delicious. Until her nipples tingled. Until her sex pounded and throbbed. And then she kissed him some more for the sheer joy of his lips beneath hers and for the loveliness of having the freedom to have him at her mercy.

  This glorious man.

  This beautiful lord.

  Hers.

  For tonight.

  And if she had her way, for forever.

  He guided her down, until she lay on the cushioned bench, and then he joined her without ever removing his lips from hers. Her legs fell open to accommodate him as he reached between them to part the slit in her drawers once more. His fingers teased over already aching flesh, earning another moan of surrender from her.

  When she was at the edge, he withdrew, raining kisses on her jaw. All the way to her ear, chanting her name as he went. “Julianna, my sweet Julianna. You want this?”

  How could he doubt it?

  “Yes.” The word left her with ease, without thought.

  There was a flurry of motion as he undid the fall of his trousers. And then there was flesh, hot and hard, prodding her center. Making her want more. Filling her with a new ache.

  He pressed forward, and there was pressure, foreign and intense and somehow good. She shifted beneath him, seeking instinctively. He found his way back to her mouth, kissing her slowly, tenderly.

  With almost maddening torpor, he thrust, bringing the thick ridge of his manhood deeper. She was stretched and full and it felt unlike anything she had ever anticipated. But still, it was not enough. She was impatient. Greedy.

  Julianna jerked beneath him, hips pumping. He groaned into their kiss and pushed forward, pinning her to the bench with his bigger, masculine form as he made love to her. Their tongues dueled. He thrust again and she welcomed him, any lingering resistance from her body subsiding as she fully accommodated his. She was throbbing and aflame, poised on the edge of something luscious.

  “More?” he asked her.

  It seemed impossible there could be anything beyond this glorious closeness, the feeling of him lodged inside her. They were as close as a man and woman could be, and yet they were both fully clothed, too many layers of cloth separating her bare skin from his. Somehow, it did not matter. Nothing mattered but the moment, the man.

  It was right. She had not a moment of guilt over her decision. Nary a regret. This was meant to be.

  “More,” she whispered, clutching his shoulders, hands traveling over the strong planes of his back. The need to touch him everywhere rose, strident and impossible to ignore.

  So she did. She caressed him everywhere, committing to memory the broadness of his shoulders, the sinews and muscles there. His arms, his back, his bottom, his wavy hair. He felt so wonderful beneath her questing fingertips, against her, inside her. She loved him so much, and the love within her blossomed, growing, becoming larger than herself.

  He began a rhythm that sent sparks showering over her, chasing any lingering discomfort. She clutched him to her, kissing him, and it felt as if they were the only two people in all the world. Julianna never wanted this night to end.

  His fingers found the place where their bodies joined, glancing over her, and she lost control, clenching on him. A rush of fierce pleasure shot through her. Another moan tore from her as he moved faster, deeper, stretching her, claiming her.

  Making her his.

  When she reached her second pinnacle, he stiffened and slid deep, and the sensation of something hot floo
ded her. He collapsed against her, his body a welcome weight atop hers.

  He had given her his body. Now all she needed was his heart.

  Chapter 13

  Present

  I ought to have known better than to believe a gentleman like him could ever want a lady such as myself. All those words, those kisses, those promises…they meant nothing in the end, and that bitter truth was never more painfully apparent than on the day I saw him with her. I shall never forget the agony. It fills me still, an ocean between us, our daughter in my arms. Mayhap one day, with enough time, my heart shall be whole again. Until then, it remains nothing but bitter, jagged shards.

  ~from the journal of Lady Julianna Somerset, 1883

  The Lady’s Suffrage Society meeting to discuss the next issue of their new journal was underway in the crimson drawing room at Wickley House. It was Julianna’s first sojourn to Hellie and the Earl of Huntingdon’s stately townhome since she had revealed the truth to her friend. Hellie and the earl had called upon Julianna and Shelbourne to meet Emily shortly after their wedding. But even then, Julianna’s interactions with Hellie had been stiff and disjointed, whilst tempered with her friend’s delight at meeting her niece for the first time. It would take time, Julianna knew, to heal the wounds.

  And although she was devoted to their cause, her enthusiasm was somewhat diminished by her nervousness. Her palms were damp and her stomach was knotted. Hellie had been polite but guarded. There was a distance between them which had never existed before, and Julianna only had herself to blame. She understood her friend’s hurt, confusion, and distrust. Emily was her niece, after all, and although their difference in age and sex had rendered Hellie and Sidney’s relationship naturally distant in certain ways, Hellie loved her brother, and she was fiercely loyal.

  Lady Jo Decker was speaking now, the petite, dark-haired beauty holding everyone’s attention. “Mr. Decker has been able to secure some advertisers for the journal, which will enable us to print more pamphlets with the additional funds they bring. Robard’s Chlorodyne and Davidson’s Laundry Bluing have agreed to place advertisements in the Lady’s Suffrage Society Times, and my husband is also speaking with some drapers and Bunting’s Cookery School. Mr. Decker’s various businesses which may be of interest to ladies will advertise as well.”