The Seduction of His Wife

by Tiffany Clare

  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that her eyes were half-lidded with tiredness. Maybe the yawn hadn’t been feigned.

  Her sleepy gaze locked with his. “Will you be staying this time?”

  Shame he knew her meaning had nothing to do with sleeping in her bed. It was not an invitation to stay, but a question on whether he’d travel abroad again. Were his adventures in trade really over? The answer to that was simple. His life in the opium trade was over. Though future business dealings wouldn’t take him far from England, he knew his life in trade was far from over.

  Perhaps if his father hadn’t been so damn insistent on him taking a seat in the House of Lords next to him, he’d have stayed. Time could not go backward, so he’d never know.

  All Richard knew was that the answer he gave his wife was the truth. “I plan to stay.”

  Chapter 12

  I feel old, yet young in the sense that I have no life experience. A woman but not really fully a woman. A sad predicament.

  Emma set her brush down in the bowl of turpentine and looked to the tall clock. It was still fairly early in the morning. Richard would be searching for her soon. It was usually near midmorning that he found her. She definitely didn’t want Richard searching her out in her private sanctuary. This was the last place she could just be herself. A refuge of sorts where she could forget everything that was going wrong in her life.

  Questions flitted across her mind. When would she hear news from Nathan about her painting? Would Waverly do anything rash before the painting could again be safely hidden? How had the man even come by that canvas? It had been sold abroad to a collector more than eight years ago. Nathan was always so careful about whom he sold her works to.

  She wiped the excess liquid from her detailing brush and set that down on the easel.

  Staring back at her most risqué piece to date, she brushed a rag over the still-wet paint to blot out some of the mistakes in the lineaments of her form. The light was too strong in the background; it needed more shadows, more fading, more detail to her figure. The lady stretched out on a gold-and-green brocade divan, her supple, naked body on full display. She’d paint in a sheer white shawl to cover the middle section of her naked body this time, and leave the breasts completely exposed.

  The eyes of the lithe lady stared back at her in silent mockery. They said: You wish you were free like me; you wish you could act without a care in the world, just as I do. Emma thumbed over the facial features and decided right then she’d paint her facing away from the viewer, and wiped the wet mess into her apron. Tossing a cloth cover over the piece, she set a larger canvas atop with a serene landscape painted on it. She’d finish the painting tomorrow; hopefully she’d be sending this parcel to Nathan by week’s end.

  Sitting down with a heavy sigh, she cleaned her hands with the sponge and a tiny bit of turpentine, making sure she scraped out all the paint underneath her nails.

  How was she going to face her husband after last night? She’d wanted him a second time, before their conversation had turned so serious. Goodness, the world would have thought her a wanton, a harlot. Come to think of it, she was starting to act more like one of the women in her paintings than the proper Countess of Asbury she’d schooled herself to be.

  Placing her cool hands to her flaming cheeks for a moment, she tried to clear her mind of the intimacies she’d partaken in with Richard. She hadn’t expected their time together to be so raw, so untamed. She hadn’t wanted it to mean so much to her. What would it take to make Richard stay on with her? What would it take to make their marriage really work this time around? Ha! Her thoughts swayed toward a positive outcome.

  She couldn’t forget that him staying might mean the end of her painting. She wasn’t ready to give up her only passion. Couldn’t give it up.

  Needing to focus on something else, she cleaned the painting area, tucked her apron away, and covered the powders she used in mixing paint colors. Perhaps if she pretended that nothing had happened, that they hadn’t connected so deeply on an intimate level, her husband would remain quiet on the topic. She doubted she’d be that lucky. He’d use her desires against her; she was sure of that.

  She wanted something more from the intimate relations they’d had thus far, but didn’t know what “more” entailed. She couldn’t think of this right now. Her husband seemed to consume more and more of her thoughts. That was not acceptable.

  She had to go and see her sisters. Forget her problems for the time being and just spend the rest of the summer in her sisters’ company. They could keep her mind from straying in directions it had no right to go.

  * * *

  “We’re going to dress in trousers and roll down a hill like ten-year-old boys?” Emma asked.

  Both sisters reddened at the comparison. Then Abby smirked and held the bundled stack of clothes toward her. “We even adjusted the size so they’d fit properly.”

  “We’ll stay on the manor property. No one will see us. No one needs to know but us.” Grace’s mouth screwed up on one side in a grin.

  Emma started shaking her head back and forth immediately. “You’re lying, Grace. You always make that face, like you’ve sucked on a sour lemon, when you tell a fib.”

  Grace ducked her head, walked over to the bed to toss down her stack of clothes, and started to undress. “Of course we won’t tell a soul what we’ve done. It’s to be our little secret.”

  “Em…” Abby pushed forward, making her take the bundle of material. “We are doing the dare right along with you. You won’t give up so early on in the game, will you?”

  Abby had a point. It was too early to give up in this contest of theirs. She’d been resolute about completing every task from the start. She also wanted to avoid her husband again today. She didn’t know what to make of last night.

  “Fine, but I hope you have hats and jackets we can hide our figures beneath.”

  Abby sat on the edge of the bed and pinched up her face in thought. “I didn’t think to procure those items when we were adjusting the trousers.”

  Grace turned around, a winning smile on her face. “Never fear. I’ll retrieve something after we’re dressed.”

  Emma looked down to her stack of clothes and pulled the twine that held it together. Setting the clothes out on the bed, she looked over them carefully. The shirt looked rather large and she lifted it in front of her. Abby was already loosening the buttons at the back of Emma’s gown.

  It was a silly challenge. There was no reason she couldn’t do it. When she completed this, she would be one task away from winning a sitting from her sisters. Stripped down to their underclothes, they set about getting dressed in the menswear.

  “I do say, I’ve never wanted to wear trousers in all my days.” Grace was tucking her shirt in, looking down at her stocking feet. “But it’s kind of freeing.”

  Emma looked down at her form, then back over to Grace, who had been shaped as a true woman with her heavy bosom and wide hips. Grace looked positively indecent with the way the material of her trousers and shirt hugged her every curve.

  “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable in trousers. No wonder men don’t want us dressing this way. They can see far too much.” Abby was staring over at Grace when she said that. “Good Lord, this is more scandalous than I originally thought.” Though Abby seemed more excited than shocked.

  “It is,” Grace agreed. “Stay here, I’ll go and retrieve some jackets.”

  “Where from?” Abby asked. “Someone might see you dressed as you are. I should go. No one will think me anything but a boy since I don’t quite fill out the clothes as you do.”

  “No one will see me. Mr. Lioni is of a size that will suit our needs. I saw him walking the gardens earlier. I’ll just steal into his room. He’ll never even know I was there.”

  Emma grabbed Grace’s hand as she made to leave. “What if he should catch you?”

  “I’ll say we left something of Abby’s behind. Unless,” Grace’s eyes sparked with mischief
, “you want to go into your husband’s chambers and take his jackets.”

  “I say we throw a cloak about us. It’ll be sufficient enough to disguise us.”

  “No, the challenge specifically calls for us dressing as men. You’ll have to wear a jacket.” Abby’s grin was smug. Her sisters were enjoying this far too much.

  “We should go with you, Grace,” Emma offered. Not that she wanted to traipse around the house like they were.

  “Admit it, Em, it’s rather fabulous sneaking around like this,” Abby chided.

  Her sister was right. It was liberating for some reason. “I admit it. It is fun in the sense that we know we should not be doing this. Not because it’s wicked, but because it’s completely ridiculous.”

  Grace shook her head, laughing. “I don’t think we can explain all three of us being in Mr. Lioni’s room. I don’t mind going. I’ll be quick.”

  “Fine, but if you are caught, Grace, I—I’ll not be happy.” A shame that was the best thing Emma could come up with.

  Grace chuckled softly as she slid quietly from her bedchamber and went to procure the necessary items for their escapades.

  * * *

  How was it she couldn’t find any jackets? She’d been through his dressing room and was now sorting through stacks of clothes in the wardrobe. Aha! Finally, her fingers brushed over a fine wool frock coat.

  “Seeing you thus, cara, gives me the greatest pleasure.”

  Grace shot upward and smacked the back of her head off a low-hanging shelf. “Ouch.” Dropping the two jackets she’d managed to find to the floor, she clutched and pressed at the top of her throbbing head simultaneously.

  Mr. Lioni rushed forward, pushed her hands away, and pulled her head down so to inspect the spot she’d been rubbing at.

  “I did not mean for this to happen. I walked in, and your lovely derriere was enticing my wicked tongue.” His hands were warm and gentle as he parted her hair in his examination. “Not even a bump. Maybe this is a good thing to happen because now you are in my arms.”

  She raised her head and looked at him. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at her. His lips were full, the bottom one more so than the top, just perfectly sculpted like that of a stone statue. His shoulders were wide, his height only a few inches taller than her five-foot, ten-inch frame. Mr. Lioni was a very masculine presence and the epitome of what she liked in a man. Whenever he was near to her, she wanted to tumble him into the nearest bed and see what else was manly about him.

  Goodness, her thoughts were starting to burn her ears.

  “Cara mia, I am going to kiss you—to change that look of confusion on your face to one of delight.”

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat. Unable to answer him, she simply nodded yes.

  Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lowered his mouth to hers but did not press their lips together. What was he waiting for? She wanted to feel his mouth crushed to hers with a desperation that stole the breath right out of her lungs.

  Slanting his mouth over hers, he said, “I have this desire to make you mine, tesorina.”

  The words were like a rumbling purr and had her closing her eyes and swaying forward. Her hand pressed against his chest. She ran her fingers over the fine, firm muscle beneath his shirt. Oh dear, he was so impressively hard all over.

  Tilting her head back, she slanted her mouth beneath his and pressed forward. His hands were wrapped about her waist, one of them kneading the top of her rump. Right in that moment, she decided she loved wearing trousers. There was so much more to feel; the contours and strength of his thighs, the rigid length of his manhood pressed tight to her stomach, the warmth of his body, and the rapid beating of his heart next to her breast.

  His tongue swept around hers. Hers wrapped around his. He tasted of mint leaves. What did she taste like to him? She could have basked and taken more of what he offered, but not today.

  Or at least not right now, she silently amended.

  Her sisters would worry that she’d been caught and come looking for her if she didn’t return. But she liked being caught very much by Mr. Lioni. Hadn’t she promised she would enjoy a flirtation and no more? Oh, that simply wouldn’t do. Being in his room, in his arms, must have put some sort of spell over her.

  “This has been most interesting, to say the least,” she started to say, and then realized he would want an explanation for why she was in his assigned room.

  It didn’t help matters that she’d dropped the two jackets she’d managed to procure. There was nothing to do but sidestep his path and head for the closed door. He caught her hand before she made it more than two paces, spun her back around, and planted his lips over hers again.

  This time the kiss was a swift wrestle of lips and tongue, and it was he who stopped the heated licking and tonguing. When he released her, she swayed on the spot. He caught her up against his taller frame. His impressive, welcoming larger body encircled her. It was so nice to feel small next to a man. Rarely, with her height and plumpness, did she have that opportunity.

  “You cannot escape me so easily. I would like an explanation as to why you are here.”

  She looked back over her shoulder to the jackets lying in a pile on the floor, and then down to her front. Hopefully indicating her state of dress without saying anything.

  “If all women looked as good in menswear as you, I declare they should all dress just like this.”

  She smiled at his teasing and ducked her head. She was a little embarrassed to be found this way, but at the same time relieved that they could stop posturing with each other and start the affair that was inevitable between them. What was wrong with her? She’d talked herself out of not having an affair with him. This wasn’t good. Not at all.

  Now that she’d voiced it to herself, though, she could not deny herself this man. She’d played the role of wife to an elderly husband. She’d never had an affair with the younger men who danced attendance upon her. It hadn’t felt right to betray her husband that way. He was always so kind to her.

  But he was almost two years in the ground. Mr. Lioni was very alive, very interested, and she couldn’t help but be attracted to his suave act. She was sure he was quite the lady’s man. She’d have to keep her emotions from carrying her away. Have to keep from expecting more from this man than an affair.

  “Stay for a while,” he said. “It’s still quite early in the morning. No one will notice your absence for a couple of hours.”

  The mention of a couple of hours and not a few moments was enough to make most women swoon. Goodness. She wanted this man.

  “And lock ourselves in here for those hours?” she asked. Of course that was exactly what he meant by such a bold and wonderful suggestion. How she wished she could accept.

  “Why else would I ask? I’ve a need to taste your skin. It’s so cruel to tease a man like this, no?” His gaze raked over her tight-fitting trousers and gaping shirt as if he were already touching her.

  Was it awful of her that she liked teasing him? His accent had thickened in the last few moments of their conversation. It had taken every ounce of resolve in her not to melt at his words. How desperate she was to know what Mr. Lioni was like in bed. It was a startling revelation.

  What she was about to suggest was more daring than anything she’d uttered in all her life. “My sisters wait for me now. That being said, I would like to take you up on this offer later. Much later.” Did he understand what much later implied? That she wanted nothing more than to spend the whole night with him.

  “I will be counting the minutes, cara. Tonight is so very far away, though. Let me have a small taste to get me through the afternoon.”

  She retrieved the jackets and held the material between them. If he started kissing her again, it might not stop there. She’d let him have more than a small taste later.

  “Might I take these?” she asked. “If you want to know what they’re for, you can come out to the grazing hills on the north side o
f the property. Not more than a twenty-minute hike. But come with Asbury. It’s nothing more than a silly adventure my sisters and I have planned.”

  He nodded his approval. “Is this something that will make the evening all the sweeter to wait for?”

  “I can’t say, for that’ll depend entirely upon you.” Then without any hesitation, and with a sudden reversal of the shyness she’d felt only minutes ago, she stood up on her toes and kissed him on the mouth. A sweet kiss with closed mouths this time. They could save the more intense version for tonight.

  Chapter 13

  For so many years I’ve needed nothing more than your companionship. I am slowly realizing I need to move on from that want.

  Richard watched the three Hallaways wander away from the house from his vantage point in his wife’s bedchamber. All of them wore tan-colored trousers and shirtsleeves—like any ordinary man out for a stroll in the country, in a style of a few decades past. Although there was nothing ordinary in how they appeared. Had they pilfered from the old chests of clothes in the attic? Reaching down, he adjusted the burgeoned swell of his cock. What a state his wife put him in—more like kept him in.

  He’d come to her room hoping to ask her on a walk around the grounds. Instead, he’d looked out the window when the room had turned up empty, and discovered her acting the hoyden as she had yesterday in the apple orchard.

  He dropped the curtain back in place and strode from the room. Time to confront his wife. And find out what tricks the sisters were up to. He couldn’t imagine this was how they normally spent their summers—partaking in childish pastimes. Not that he minded. It showed him a different side of his wife, one she seemed so bent on hiding from him.

  Meeting Brown in the hall, he asked for his horse to be saddled, then waited in the drive for the blue roan to be brought around. Mounting, he turned the tall beast toward the hills and pastures that flanked the north side of the property. There were sheep here and there, lolling under the odd patch of trees that offered up shade during the heat of early afternoon. It took him less than a quarter hour to find them. He doubted they’d seen his approach since he came around the back of the property.