This visit needed to come to an end before she did something mortifying.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Penelope is acting oddly.
From the moment he had noticed her standing in the parlor doorway, Andrew had sensed that something about her was…off. Her smile was too bright. Her shoulders too stiff. He thought she might be hiding something behind her too pleasant demeanor, but he could not begin to think what it could be.
When she had so vehemently defended her brother rather than allow her mother to tell him the gentleman’s plans for Dorothy, his suspicions had grown. Yet, at the same time, seeing the fire in her gaze as she stood against him on the matter had sent a thrill shooting through him. He liked her challenging him. There was a stirring in his loins when he thought about her showing him that same fire in the bedroom.
They were staring at each other now, and he was not even trying to hide his lust for her. He wanted her to see it, plain and clear, and know how much he wanted her. At the same time, he wanted to know what it was she was hiding. It struck him as funny that, after so many years of fiercely defending his bachelorhood, he should be the one baring all, and she the one holding back.
“Well, My Lord, you must be terribly busy today,” she said, breaking the tense silence that had developed between them. “Thank you for stopping by, and perhaps we could arrange a time to meet again closer to the new year?”
Is she trying to get rid of me?
Andrew narrowed his eyes and studied her. What was going on? Why was she so out of sorts? He knew it had something to do with her brother.
Andrew guessed that Snowley was planning to propose to Dorothy, which was why Lady Bienholm appeared so giddy about their appointment later that day. While he could understand Penelope’s desire to keep her brother’s confidence in the matter and maintain the element of surprise, he felt as though that was not the true secret she was hiding.
There was something else. Something bigger. Something that made concern gleam behind her eyes. She was trying to hide it, but he could read it in her, plain as day.
“Oh, must you leave us so soon, My Lord?” Lady Bienholm asked, her eyes wide with disappointment.
He stared at Penelope a moment more as he determined how best to navigate this peculiar situation.
At length, he shook his head. “No, My Lady. Though I do appreciate Miss Snowley’s concern for my time, I find myself rather free today. I can stay a while longer.”
Penelope’s lips thinned into a tight line, her displeasure clear. He smirked in response.
You forget, my dear, that I enjoy playing games with you.
If she wanted him to leave, then he would insist on staying. Her unwillingness to be open with him was a constant source of irritation, and so he felt it only right to thwart her plans and return the favor.
“You asked how my Christmas holiday was, Miss Snowley, but I have neglected to enquire about yours.” He moved from the mantle to sit in the chair across from her, making a show of settling in and getting comfortable. “Did you have a lovely holiday, as well?”
Her nostrils flared. “Yes, My Lord.” Her voice was clipped, her anger barely contained. “It was quite lovely, for the most part.”
Tilting his head, he asked, “Oh? Was there something about it that was not so lovely?”
That fire in her eyes was turning into an inferno. “Nothing in particular, My Lord. It was rather nice to have time to myself, if I am completely honest.”
He arched his brow at the pointed jab, refusing to break eye contact with her. “Were you not lonely at all, Madam?”
She shook her head firmly. “No, My Lord. Not one bit.”
Lady Bienholm, seemingly oblivious to the friction in the air around her, patted Penelope’s hand. “My dear, you should not be too proud to admit how much you missed the Marquess. I could tell.” Looking toward Andrew, the lady smiled. “She was moping about like a child denied her favorite toy, appearing so anxious and forlorn.”
Penelope’s eyes bulged and her face turned crimson as she turned her fiery glare on her mother.
“My Lady, please, not another word.”
Andrew watched her carefully, noticing how her reaction was different than the one she usually had when flustered or embarrassed. There was anger etched into the lines of her face. She would not be so upset if this were only a matter of her mother distressing her in front of him.
He felt he was starting to circle the truth, so he pressed forward.
“It sounds as though you were quite distraught, Miss Snowley. Had I known you were so lost without me, I would have made every effort to come to you.”
He counted on her fierce pride to push her into revealing what was truly on her mind. Surely, she would not be able to abide by the idea that he thought her so desperate for him that she could not function when they were separated?
Indeed, she gnashed her teeth and clutched her skirts with her hands, her offense at his words obvious.
How I wish we were truly alone, and she could unleash that fire without hesitation.
He had to force himself to focus. Now was not the time for bedroom thoughts, though the idea of her uninhibited and free when tangled in his arms was a heady one. He crossed one of his legs over the other as his trousers grew tight.
Andrew waited with bated breath to see what she would do. Confess her true troubles? Throw him from the house in a rage?
To his surprise, however, she appeared to gain control of her temper after several moments, and a serene expression settled over her features.
“It is true, My Lord, that I missed you dearly.” Her voice was sugary sweet and her smile implacable. “My poor heart could hardly stand to be away from you for so long.”
He frowned, confused. Then, he caught the triumphant look in her gaze and realization made him want to grin. She had figured him out and turned his game on its head. Penelope appeared determined to maintain a firm hold on her secrets. It irked him that she did not seem to trust him fully yet, but he could not deny how arousing he found that superior look of hers to be.
He wanted to watch it melt into helpless pleasure as he worked her body with his.
If only he could get her alone…
An idea suddenly struck him, and he bit back a wicked grin.
“Miss Snowley, I suddenly have an urge to take in some fresh air. Would you perhaps join me for a ride through the park?”
The confusion in her expression made him want to chuckle.
“A ride, My Lord?” She glanced toward the window to the icy world beyond. “It is rather cold out, is it not?”
“Oh, you could bundle yourselves up easily enough!” Lady Bienholm declared, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Just look how lovely it is out? The sun is shining and the snow is so beautiful. You two really should go and enjoy it.”
“Just us two?” Penelope’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at her mother.
Lady Bienholm waved a hand to swat away her daughter’s disbelief. “It is perfectly acceptable for you to ride together in an open sleigh. I will call for Carlton and have him get the vehicle prepared, and fetch Mrs. Stewart…” Pushing to her feet, Lady Bienholm hurried to the door to call for the butler.
Penelope shot a narrowed eyed glare Andrew’s way, but he merely grinned good-naturedly. She was right to be suspicious of him. He would drop the subject of her brother’s secret for now and concede this battle to her…but the war was far from over. There was one weapon in his arsenal he had yet to use, but he knew she would stand no chance against it.
* * *
“Andrew, this is ridiculous,” Penelope hissed at him as they trudged through the snow-covered park in her family’s old sleigh. “It is freezing out here.”
“That is why we must remain so close,” he whispered with a smirk. “To keep each other warm.”
Penelope shot a look up toward Mrs. Stewart, who sat next to the coachman. Thankfully, the woman was not looking back at them with her shrewd eyes. Tu
rning back to Andrew, she glared up at him, but her heart began racing. Indeed, they were closer than would be proper in any other circumstance, sitting side-by-side on the short bench of the vehicle.
A thick blanket was thrown over their legs. Penelope wore her long, fur-lined cloak and matching muff, as well as a winter bonnet to protect her ears. Andrew had on his coat, gloves, scarf, and top hat. Warmers were placed at their feet to keep the worst of the cold away.
The groom driving the sleigh sat ahead of them, bundled from head-to-toe himself, his shoulders hunched against the wind. Penelope felt a sting of guilt at his discomfort.
“We should not be out here,” she murmured. “No one else is.”
“Is that such a problem?”
The dark undertone in his voice made her shiver, though not from cold.
“People will talk,” she said, glancing around. “If anyone sees us out here…”
“No one will say a thing,” he assured her. “We are publicly courting, and it is perfectly normal for a couple such as us to go for a ride in an open-air vehicle. There is nothing we can do that will not be seen, so we are safe from scandal.”
She released a sigh. “I suppose that is true…”
“Well, it is almost true.” He shifted beneath their blanket and rested his hand on her thigh.
Gasping, she stared up at him with wide-eyes. “Andrew…what are you doing?”
“You will have to keep your voice down, sweetheart,” he growled at her ear as his fingers began tugging up her layers of clothing. “We would hate to scandalize the poor groom.”
Penelope’s eyes flew up to the coachman and Mrs. Stewart but their ears were covered by earmuffs and a winter bonnet, and they were focused on their own conversation.
Turning her attention back to Andrew, she whispered, “This is too bold, Andrew…someone will notice…”
“Then tell me to stop.” He was gazing at her as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening. As if there were having a polite chat, and he was not reaching beneath her skirts to run his finger along her bare knee.
She flinched at the contact, but quickly stilled herself. He was watching her expectantly, his hand paused.
Tell him to stop. Tell him to stop!
She opened her mouth to say the words, but nothing came forth but a small whimper.
He grinned. “If you cannot control your voice, I promise to stop.”
Penelope nodded, shocked by her own actions more than his. Why was she not stopping him?
His hand continued slowly working up her leg. She did not know what to do or how to respond, so she stayed very still and stared at him. His fingers brushed along her inner-thigh, and she bit her lip to stop a moan. She had never realized how sensitive her skin was there.
“You are so beautiful, Penelope.” He spoke softly, his words meant only for her. “So soft and lush. You are like a ripe fruit, ready to be plucked.”
His hand reached the apex of her thighs and grazed her heat there. She stiffened, fighting to keep her body from arching toward him. It was eager for his touch. Eager to experience the mysterious release it had been yearning for these past weeks.
“Hot,” he growled. He pushed his finger through her wetness, urging her thighs to part with his palm. “You are so hot here, darling. Hotter than I expected.”
“Is that…is that wrong?” she asked in a meek tone.
He shook his head with a grin. “No, my beauty. It is not wrong in the least. You are perfect. I wish I could spread you wide and lay my eyes upon you here.” He emphasized his wish by adding a second finger to graze her flesh.
Penelope licked her suddenly dry lips. “I…I do not know what to do, Andrew. I have never felt anything like this before.”
“Just relax and allow me to pleasure you. We have little time, but you must remember to be silent, my love. Do you understand?”
She nodded as her breath left her in a rush.
Andrew adjusted himself in his seat ever so slightly. Above the blanket, it would have appeared he was simply getting more comfortable. Under the blanket, he was improving his angle so he could tease her entrance.
“Someday, I will claim this part of you,” he murmured so softly, he may have been talking to himself rather than her. “When you are my wife, I will touch and kiss you here whenever I please. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
Penelope could only nod her head. She could not form words as he began to work one of his fingers inside her. He did not go deep into her but worked her with shallow pumps. Pleasure swept though her as the heat she had become so familiar with exploded into an inferno.
She twitched and squirmed, trying with all her might not to give them away. The task was becoming herculean with each passing moment as she was bombarded with sensation. Her legs shook and her hips wanted to roll into his hand. Pulling one hand from her muff, she bit down on her knuckles to keep from releasing a sound.
Andrew’s eyes were on her, watching her tortured expressions. There was a heated gleam to them that contrasted with his relaxed demeanor. She glanced toward the coachman and Mrs. Stewart afraid they must be able to sense what was happening, but their backs were still to them, their shoulders still hunched. There was a slight wind blowing past them which she prayed was sweeping her whimpers away with it.
“Andrew…” Something was building inside her body. She did not know what, but she yearned for it. Yearned for it to consume her.
“Remember not to scream,” he whispered, increasing the speed and the pressure of his fingers. The intensity of the pleasure she felt began to frighten her. Surely it was too much? How could her body sustain it?
Andrew was relentless, however. Driving her further and further, taking her higher and higher, until suddenly white spots burst in her vision as pure ecstasy exploded from her core to engulf the entirety of her being. She bit her tongue to keep from shrieking, and tasted blood. Andrew’s fingers continued to torment her as wave after wave of heated bliss coursed through her.
When she at last returned to earth, Andrew discreetly removed his hand from between her legs and smoothed her skirts back in place under the blanket. At that moment, Mrs. Stewart turned to look back at them.
“Are you feeling too cold, Madam?” she asked with a frown. “You are quite flushed. Should we return to the house?”
She stared at the lady’s maid, to horrified to speak, but Andrew easily replied, “Yes, I believe that is a good idea. Have the coachman take us back to the house. Miss Snowley has satisfied her need for fresh air.” His gaze returned to her and he raised a brow. “Is that not right, Miss Snowley? Are you not satisfied?”
It took her lust-addled mind a moment to catch on to his meaning. She curled her lips into a grin and nodded.
“Yes, My Lord. I find myself very satisfied indeed.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“When is Mr. Snowley expected to arrive, darling?”
“Any time now, Mama.”
“Oh, excellent.”
Dorothy glanced up from her book to smile at the Duchess, who sat across the room from her with her own book in hand. They were each reading one of Harry’s novels, or rather, rereading them as they had read both works all the way through at least once.
“He is such a brilliant wordsmith,” the Duchess murmured, more to herself than to Dorothy. “How someone can convey such passion in their writing is astonishing…”
Dorothy giggled softly, returning her attention to her own book. She struggled to read the page before her, however, as she was too excited to focus. It had been days since she had last seen Harry, and she missed him as she never had missed anyone else before. The closer it came to this planned time of arrival, the harder her heart would beat.
They would spend the whole evening together, however, as he had been invited to dinner with the Duke and Duchess. Though her parents liked him already, Dorothy knew it was vital he make a good impression upon them tonight if they wished to eventually receive approval to marry.
>
Suddenly, the door to the small parlor opened, and Bensen stepped into the room.
“Your Grace, My Lady. Mr. Snowley has arrived.”
Dorothy slammed her book shut and sat up straight.
“Please send him in, Bensen, thank you.”
The butler appeared momentarily startled by her eagerness but said nothing as he bowed and left to obey her instructions.
Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 20
