Lord Heartless

by Tessa Berkley

  “I hope then this is a love match, for the last laugh will be on Mr. Shakespeare.”

  Juliet shifted her eyes toward her husband. “It is, your Majesty.”

  The queen turned to the gentleman two steps behind. “Then it shall make life much sweeter. Perhaps later we can exchange notes on your seamstress. That is a most lovely gown.”

  “Of course.” Juliet could only smile in agreement as the queen looked beyond.

  “Countess Montague, how good to see you again. It has been too long.”

  “Far too long, Your Majesty,” the dowager agreed. “Now that my son is married perhaps I can turn my pursuits to more leisurely endeavors.”

  “I hope so; you have been missed.”

  As the royal party moved slowly on, Juliet tried to relax. The countess touched her arm. She looked over to the tears shimmering in the older woman’s eyes. “Bless you, child.”

  A woman hurried across the floor, diverting their attention. The countess stiffened.

  “Lady Juliet, I had no idea you went for the green,” Lady Scarborough said. While a smile played upon her lips, there was no mistaking the daggers that lay in her eyes.

  “Yes, shame you chose another color, the green would have matched your eyes,” the countess said as the crowd began to move toward their seats.

  They had only made it as far as the stairs when a gentleman appeared at the countess’ right side. “Countess Montague?”

  “Yes?”

  “The Duke of Norfolk sends his greetings and requests the company of you and your family in his box for the opera.”

  Juliet heard the countess take a deep intake of air. “We have seats with Lord Scarborough.”

  “The lord will understand.” The gentleman sent an icy glare to the couple behind them. “The duke wishes to discuss some matters concerning merchant trade with Lord Montague.”

  “Oh well, then. Tell the duke we accept with much gratitude.”

  The man bowed and turned. “Follow me.”

  The countess took Juliet’s hand and to her surprise, she found the countess’s fingers were shaking.

  Chapter Twelve

  Simmons opened the door and Landon watched his mother enter, her footsteps lighter than they’d been in years.

  “Wonderful night!” she exclaimed with a wave of her cane. “Oh, Simmons, if only your could have been there.”

  Simmons lifted a brow and looked to Lord Montague as he ushered the women inside. Landon nodded.

  “Indeed,” Simmons said and shut the door.

  Landon placed his hat on the table and pulled the gloves from his hands depositing them on the inside. “The countess’s shining moment.”

  “It was. I have both you and my daughter-in-law to thank for that.” She smiled and looked at Lady Juliet who stood by her husband’s side. “Well.” She drew a deep breath. “The night is late and I shall bid you good night. Dear Lady Juliet, do not fill your calendar for I have a feeling there will be many parties and social events to come.”

  “Yes, Countess.”

  His mother turned to the butler. “Simmons, please bring me a spot of tea. I need to put my thoughts in order before retiring.”

  “Of course, milady. Lady Juliet?”

  “No, thank you, Simmons.” She turned back to her husband. “I shall be up in a bit. I’ll ring for Helen then.”

  “Of course.” Simmons turned, disappearing into the shadows.

  “Countess, may I help you to your room?” Juliet inquired.

  “No.” She turned her head. “I think there is much you need to say to one another, considering the looks that transpired between you two. I can see my way to my rooms. Good night, Landon, Juliet.”

  “Good night, Mother.”

  They watched her move up the stairs.

  “Your mother did enjoy herself.”

  Landon smiled. “Her night of triumph. I don’t think she ever thought she might return to the Ton’s good graces.” He stepped to her and took her hand. “All because of you, my dearest.”

  Juliet shook her head. “No, do not think it was only my doing. You’ve changed, Landon. I think many can sense it.”

  “If I have, it is because of you.” He ran his thumbs across her hand as he studied her face. “This evening, when you spoke to the queen, you said ours was a love match.”

  “Did I?” Juliet gave a look of mock surprise.

  “You did.” He swallowed. “I need to know, if you truly meant it.”

  Juliet smiled and pulled her hand from his to lay it against his cheek. “Finish your notes, my dear husband, then come to bed.”

  She walked past him and he watched her make her way up the stairs.

  Landon stood quietly for a moment, his thoughts running rapid. She would need time to undress and make herself ready. He could have a drink. He should have a drink. Walking toward his study, he made his way to the tray of glasses and the bottle of Scotch. Heart pounding, hands shaking, he poured a just a splash into the glass and threw it back. The alcohol burned its way past his tongue cleansing his palate. She wanted him. He dampened his dry lips and moved up the stairs in order to claim his bride.

  No one stirred in the hallway. He paused at the door and took a deep breath to calm his escalating nerves. Quietly, he entered their sitting room. To the right, the door to her bedroom stood ajar. He wondered if she had called for her maid. As if to answer his question, Helen appeared. Landon smiled and waved her away. He moved to the opening and admired Juliet’s natural beauty.

  She stood near her dresser. Using her right hand, Juliet plucked the silver comb from the back of her hair. The silver sang out as she dropped it into the glass bowl and one by one the hairpins followed until her glorious mane tumbled and flowed down her back. With a sigh, she reached around in an attempt to undo the silk buttons of her gown. Her fingers struggled with the tiny buttonholes and the satin covers.

  Landon stepped forward. A board beneath the rug groaned.

  “Helen, I’m having difficulty.”

  “Allow me.”

  Juliet gasped as his hands brushed the golden curls forward over her shoulder. “I-I can wait for Helen. She should be in shortly.”

  Landon gazed at the skin above the mint of the silk. “No need,” he whispered and brushed the back of his knuckles across the warmth of her shoulders. He lifted his glance and caught her eyes in the mirror’s reflection and they both became aware of the sensuous light transmitted by the mirror. A soft pink hue filled her cheeks as he bent his head and pressed his lips to the sweep of her shoulders. He watched as she closed her eyes and sighed when he did it again. Landon raised his hands, and grasped the cloth then slowly, he pulled the button free.

  As each inch of skin was revealed, Landon lavished it with a kiss until he came to the ties of her corset. Raising his head, he watched the rapid rise and fall of her breasts while his fingers made quick work of the rest of the buttons. His body urged him to hurry, but his mind knew that this seduction must be slow and methodically done so that she would never want for another.

  “Hold out your arms,” he whispered.

  She did and he let the silk and tulle slide from her upper body. His eyes dropped from hers to gaze upon the dainty blue of the corset. She began to bring her arms up to cover herself. He placed a hand against her arm. “Please.”

  She raised her head and put her arms down. He placed his fingers, on her arms and using only the slightest touch traced her silhouette to the shoulders.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  The silk rustled as she made her pirouette. His hands took care of the skirt. Like peeling the layers of an onion, one by one he released the petticoats that lay beneath until only the corset and her chemise were left. Lace by lace, he released her from the stays while his eyes moved across her body. Her gaze intensified as he tossed it aside. He placed his arms around her, then lifted the small orbs into his palms. Her head fell back against his shoulder and her hands covered his as he lavished strokes
upon her breasts.

  Her hips began to move in conjunction with his actions. The friction of his touch ignited the dab of perfume she wore and the scent of honeysuckle filled the room. His body responded. His need for her so great that he feared if he didn’t stop all would be over before it began. Withdrawing his hands from beneath her fingers, Landon waited until she regained her feet. Then he moved before her and knelt to take hold of her ankle.

  Juliet’s heated breaths filled the air as he drew the satin slipper first from one foot, then the other. His fingers molded to the calf of her leg and he drew his palms upward past her knee to her thigh where her garters lay. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders as he brought the garter down and removed her stocking and deposited it on the stool behind him. Looking back, he pressed the pad of his thumb against the mark where her garter marred the skin and placed his lips against it through the sheer fabric. She let forth a groan of desire that shot straight through him. He looked up to find her gazing at his obvious examination with approval. Smiling, he lifted her other foot and did the same. The tender strokes of his fingers moved to her hips and then around to the front of her thighs, the dampness of her desire coated the inside of those ivory towers and he wanted to bury himself between them.

  “Stand, Landon, please,” she begged.

  A tent had formed in the front of his trousers and he found it hard to rise. But when he did, he was rewarded with her coming to his aide. The shirtfront fluttered to the carpet, then one by one the buttons of his shirt fell away until she could lay her lips upon the skin of his chest. Her long fingers stroked the circle of hair that surrounded his nipple. She pulled her hand up and shoved the rest of the cloth from his arms. Her lips pressed against his body and he ripped the tail of his shirt from his trousers and tossed it to the floor.

  As she explored his torso, Landon closed his eyes to the luxurious feel. She surprised him when her hand moved to the clasp of his trousers and shoved them down his legs. Stepping close, she ran her palms down the outside of his legs and pressed the softness of her body against the rigid length of him.

  “Madam, I can stand no more,” he said with shaking breath.

  She brought her palms up and captured his face between them as her lips met his.

  Kissing Landon was nothing compared to the feel of his gaze moving across her body. They had kissed their way across the room, and Landon had picked her up to lay her gently upon the bed before joining her. Lying there, he had worshiped her body and Juliet could feel the heaviness of her breasts as he drew one pink nipple deep into his mouth, over the chemise. He was even more virile than she could have imagined. A quiver surged through her. The deep ache seemed to be building inside her womb as he released one breast to pay homage to the other. Her back arched. She stroked his back, urging him onward. She needed him to know how much she was enjoying their adventure.

  Her hand moved between them and she found the hardened length of velvet. This was her husband—she was not shy. Gently she caressed him, moved along the warmth, tracing the vein the pulsed with her heart, swirling about the tip and brushing a drop of moisture from it.

  “I want you.” He pushed the sheer chemise past her aching breasts and over her head. With that gone, he stared down at her. His gaze raked her body yet she was not offended. Instead, she welcomed the reverence in his expression.

  Bending down, he buried his face against her neck. She encircled his head while her other held on to his back as their wild ride began. Skin to skin, Juliet gloried in the feel of him as he pressed her thighs apart and covered her mound. She stilled as his fingers slipped inside to stroke. Her eyes closed. Her mouth opened as she tried to breathe. His kisses traveled up her neck to capture her lips, and then his tongue began to mimic the movement of his fingers.

  Within moments, her hips followed catching the steps to the dance of love. The bed creaked. The room grew warm. She was glad Helen had not lit the fire. Muscles strained. She wanted to draw her legs together and hold him firm. Instead, his fingers slid away and she cried out in despair.

  “Shh, no,” he whispered as his mouth lay close to her ear. “The best is yet to come.”

  Air stood between them as he raised himself back. She watched as his fingers widened and moved down the outside of one thigh and then the other. She brought her gaze to his chest, then to his face.

  “I will do my best not to hurt you.”

  “Please, Landon,” she said as he lifted her hips and brushed the tip of his manhood across her dampened curls.

  She panted as he eased the thick, hot velvet into her opening. Nothing in life felt as luxurious as this. She grasped the edges of her pillow and held tight as he began to move faster. The need inside her filled her senses. She could hear herself panting. She wanted him deeper inside her. Musk from their bodies filled the air. A primeval instinct took hold from somewhere deep in her chest, and a low moan tore from her lips. Still, he had yet to quell the burning that lay just out of his reach. A sharp point of pain gave her pause. He waited and then stroked in again and this time she shifted her hips just enough that ripples of desire radiated through her.

  She cried out. He adjusted the speed of his strokes and she followed his lead as they moved toward the pinnacle of power that seemed just out of reach. Suddenly a storm of color burst through her lashes. Her body arched from the bed, and his arms grasped hers as they found heaven together. Something roared from his body into hers and they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies locked in the passion that devoured them both.

  They made love again and again until their bodies were so sated that neither could move. Only then did he tuck her gentle curves beneath the protection of his and draw the covers over their damp bodies for sleep. Juliet had never slept so well in all of her life.

  ***

  Somewhere a light shone bright through the curtains. Juliet lay nestled against the warmth of another body as a soft smile played the edges of her lips. The poets did not do lovemaking justice. She ran her hand down the soft planes of her abdomen, recalling their lovemaking and how easily her body responded. How she savored the feeling he left inside her. The act of passion and possession that only two so fitted could experience left her mouth dry and her body wanting to drink again from the pleasure of life. He must have read her thoughts. Landon’s arm tightened against her middle as he drew her close and nipped at her shoulder.

  “My little minx,” he purred in her ear. “Who would have thought such a randy creature existed beneath that fine satin and lace?”

  She rolled onto her back and looked into his eyes. “You bring out so much in me.”

  He pressed his lips to her brow, to her cheeks, and suckled the hollow of her throat. Juliet closed her eyes, enjoying his ministrations while her hand ran down the muscles along his ribs to his hips. His thigh pushed between hers and this time their lovemaking was slow and just as pleasurable as the night before. When they finished she was breathless. Every limb felt weighted and her eyes longed to close again.

  “I will send for Helen to draw you a bath. Do not rise until I come for you.”

  He rose from their bed and tucked the sheets around her body. Contented, Juliet drifted in the world between dreams and reality. Maids chattered as they brought the water up from the kitchen below.

  “Did you see the stack of cards that came to the door?” one questioned.

  “There will be parties and such. Cook will be in her heaven planning meals with the dowager.”

  Juliet grinned in satisfaction.

  Her husband’s voice stilled their conversation. “Morning, Helen. Lady Juliet?”

  “Still quiet, milord.”

  “Ah, good, I’ve brought her a cup of tea. Is her bath finished?”

  “Nearly, by the time you’ve finished your tea.”

  “Good.”

  The door opened. Juliet stretched and opened her eyes to find her husband’s warm stare waiting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He did not want
to admit it, but the dowager had been correct. Juliet’s quiet outing at the opera had blossomed into constant demands on her time. In the past four months, twice, both she and the countess had been asked to tea with the queen. Starting at noon, endless streams of young socialites clamored at his door to leave their calling cards. Today proved no exception.

  Landon stood in the doorway of his study to watch as Simmons did his best to send another group on their way.

  “Yes, miss, I will gladly give your card to the countess and her ladyship when they return.”

  “Are they out at the dressmakers? I hear Lady Montague is fond of Madame Beatrice. We have tried twice to get a fitting, but she is booked.”

  “I do not know of ladies’ fashions.” He bowed his head and grasped the brass handle of the door. “But, I will tell them of your interests. Good day.”

  Landon caught the bobble of a bonnet as Simmons hurried to close the door. The poor butler sighed and twisted the lock for insurance.

  “Bravo, my good man. Should you keep that up, I am sure we can manage to get you to Spain and trained as a matador.”

  The butler turned toward him with a look of disdain. “Sir, no doubt, bulls would be easier to manage than young ladies.”

  Landon winced. “Sorry.”

  He walked to the table and watched as Simmons lay the silver tray upon the surface.

  “Just this morning, sir.” He shook his head. “They will not be in house until Thursday.”

  “Chin up, Simmons.” Landon tried to show a look of sympathy.

  “If you say so, sir.”

  “So, what have we today?” He looked down at the cards and placed his hands behind his back.

  “The usual, sir. A Lady Buchannan, one Lady Mountjoy, daughter of the Earl of Bonaire.” Simmons flipped the cards over and tapped the notes. “Invitations to musicals, plays, and your assorted balls.”

  A note caught Landon’s eye. “Wait.” He thumbed through until he came to an envelope scrawled in a familiar hand. He scowled.