by Jade Lee
Salty. That surprised her. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. She turned to him, her eyebrows raised and her thumb still in her mouth only to find him looking at her with such hunger that she momentarily forgot everything. He didn't move but she could see his pulse beating hard and fast in his neck. She looked higher and was startled by the power in his gaze. That and his whole expression told her that he wanted her. He wanted to bed her. Enough that it was taking everything in him to not move.
Her hand dropped away from her mouth as she decided to experiment. She watched his face, studying the minute changes in his expression as her other hand played with his organ. She tried everything. She stroked his tip, she wrapped her fingers around his stalk, she went the full length of it down to his sac. And all the time his eyes never wavered. He was looking at her. His breath caught, his body shuddered, and he even licked his lips once. But his eyes remained trained on her.
"What does it feel like when you put it in a woman?"
He swallowed twice before answering. When he finally spoke, his voice thick but clear. "Have you ever come inside on a very cold day only to have someone put a cup of hot chocolate in your hands? Do you recall how wonderful that first sip is? How it is the best feeling ever?"
She nodded.
"It's a thousand times better than that."
"Oh." She didn't know what to think about that. "And for the woman?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. I believe the lover makes the difference in that case."
"Are you a good lover?"
His lips quirked, but his eyes remained serious. "I shall have to ask you that."
"You kiss very well. Very well. And the other..." She felt her lips curve in a dreamy smile. "That was most excellent."
He didn't answer for a bit, then he released a slow sigh. "Do you know that the first time with a man usually hurts?"
She nodded. "Yes, I have heard."
"There are ways to make it better, but it will probably not be completely easy."
She tilted her head. "Do you know these ways?"
He cleared his throat, obviously a little uncomfortable with this discussion but braving it through for her sake. "I went with my friend to a doctor a week before his wedding. We got all the particulars. The doctor called us upstanding forward-thinking gentlemen."
"Really?" she gasped. She could hardly imagine having the conversation with a stranger.
"My father called me a pervert."
"For wanting to know?"
He nodded. "My father thought God and nature took care of the particulars."
She smiled. "I am glad you feel differently."
"I certainly hope so."
"So can we do it now?"
He blinked. "It?"
She nodded. "It is time to deflower me. I told you I want to know, and I'm tired of waiting."
"Ah, Gwen," he said with a sigh. "We cannot do this. We are not married."
"I assure you, that is not a requirement."
He reached down and gathered her hand, drawing it up to press a fervent kiss to her fingers. "It is for me."
"But—"
"No."
And with that, he reached down and tucked everything away before buttoning himself up. She tried to protest, but she could see it in his movements that he would not listen. In the end, he set her aside before climbing out of her bed. Then he pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, before walking away.
"Edward, please! You cannot leave now!"
At the window, he turned back to her, and his eyes still seemed to burn with desire. "I will call on you tomorrow. We shall go riding in Hyde Park. Is that acceptable?"
She quickly thought through her schedule. "Robert will be here with mother. We can go riding. On one condition."
He arched his brows in query.
"You will name the time and place for your promise." He frowned and she could tell he was trying to remember which promise.
"My deflowering, you idiot!"
"Ah, yes. That."
"Do not sound so glum," she huffed. "If you do not wish to do it, then I can easily find someone else." It was a lie. She didn't want anyone but him. "I think—"
She did not get the time to finish what she thought. He was in front of her in a moment, towering over her as she sat up on her bed. He swooped down to kiss her, his attack both abrupt and thrilling. He thrust his tongue into her mouth. He wrapped an arm around her back, forcing her to arch into his invasion. And as she gripped his shoulders, he bore her down to the bed.
The kiss continued and her legs spread as he settled between her thighs. Damn her nightdress! She should have thought to shed it completely. All he could do was thrust over and over against her, while her body trembled with desire. And still he kissed her.
Then he finally broke free, dropping his forehead to the mattress beside her, his breath ragged and his body hot and heavy on top of her.
"Only me, Gwen. Swear it. Only me."
"I swear."
Then he levered up enough to search her face. It went on long enough that she touched his arm to reassure him.
"I swear it, Edward. No one but you."
She could see the relief in his expression. "And this I swear to you, Gwen. You will not regret it. Never for one moment."
She smiled. "I know..." But she was talking to empty air. He had already left her. She sat up in time to see him step out of the window and begin the descent to the ground.
She rushed to look out but didn't speak. There might be someone else outside wandering through the night. She did not want anyone to hear the noise and come looking. So she just watched him descend and, when he'd made it to the ground, she blew him a kiss. He returned the gesture, and in her mind, she imagined him looking at her the way he had on the bed: all hunger and passion.
Then he was gone.
Chapter 9
Edward readjusted his best jacket and tried to blink the weariness from his eyes. He hadn't planned on doing this today, but matters were proceeding faster than he expected. He should have stopped at a coffee house on the way over here, but he didn't know when Gwen's brother would be at home. He had judged it better to appear bleary-eyed and early rather than late and miss the man all together.
Grabbing the knocker, he dropped it too hard and the sound seemed to clap through the quiet square. He didn't even have time to blink as the doorway was pulled open by a stern looking butler.
Edward handed the man his card and requested an audience with Robert Percy, Viscount Redhill. After a thoroughly insulting perusal, the man gestured him inside, took his hat and gloves, then bid him to wait. Edward did, glancing upstairs as he wondered if Gwen was still abed. What he wouldn't give to be able to join her there right now. Then his thoughts were cut short as the butler rapped on what must be the library door not more than 20 feet away.
"My lord," intoned the butler.
"Graves, my eyes aren't even open yet," came the muffled voice of Gwen's brother.
The butler opened the library door but did not actually venture inside. "Yes, my lord, but—"
"No, Graves! It was the devil's own nasty night as well you know."
"The weather was quite fine, my lord. And it has roused a Baronet Edward Murray to our door."
Edward strained to listen, wondering what the reception would be. Did Lord Redhill even know who he was? Apparently not because there was a long pause and then the scrape of a chair being pushed back.
"Political messenger?"
"Worse, my lord."
Edward jerked at that. He was worse than a political messenger?
"Not another business proposition. I am up to my ears in them."
The butler sadly shook his head then ventured into the library, presumably to pass over Edward's card. It was a moment later when his lordship suddenly understood. His groan echoed down the hallway.
"Another suitor? Haven't they all offered for her by now?"
"Apparently there is one more," came t
he butler's dry response as he returned to the hallway to gesture Edward inside. "Sir Edward Murray to see you, my lord," he said in an echoing voice.
And on that inauspicious note, Edward gathered as much of his dignity as he could and walked down the hallway to enter the library.
"I shall bring strong tea," Graves said behind his back. "For two."
Lord Redhill had his face sunk into his palms, but at Graves' tone, his head snapped up. "Two? Why two?"
The butler gestured expansively at Edward. "Because you have a visitor."
Lord Redhill's eyes narrowed. "You never bring drink for a suitor. Why this one?" Then the man turned his dark gaze onto Edward. "Why is my butler showing you favor?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea," Edward returned and then they both turned to stare at Graves.
"Out with it," snapped Lord Redhill. "Why is this man different?"
"Because the ivy beneath Lady Gwendolyn's window has been disturbed." And on that hideous note, the butler bowed himself out and closed the door behind him.
"Bloody hell," said Gwen's brother as he hunched over his desk glaring. He didn't offer Edward a seat. "Tell me why I shouldn't call you out right now."
Edward squared his shoulders. This was not how he'd intended this meeting to go. But when had anything involving Lady Gwen gone as he'd planned? Never. Best to proceed quickly.
"I intend to marry your sister. If you wish to call out her future husband, then that is your choice. However I can assure you that your sister is still innocent."
Lord Redhill's eyebrows rose. "Never that. First thing Gwen did when she was born was piss on the doctor. She's been guilty of some mischief every day of her life since then."
Edward opened his mouth to deny such a thing, but then shut it a moment later. Gwen was full of mischief. It was her most endearing and dangerous quality. So he sat in silence while his future brother-in-law glared at him. Edward became acutely aware of his less-than-fashionable clothing, the awkwardness of his height, even the burn in his eyes from weariness. But despite that, he maintained his composure and never once broke eye contact with Lord Redhill.
It was a very long wait. And in the silence Edward discovered a way to prove himself. All it took was a single question.
"How does your mother fare today?"
Lord Redhill jolted. "I beg your pardon?"
"Your mother. Is she better this morning? I, um, my mother has some lotion that she swears is the best for ankle sores. She is prone to them from new boots. It is her own mixture from honey and... I don't know what all. I could ask her to send some."
Lord Redhill did not respond, except to lean back in his chair and continue to stare at Edward. Obviously, he was thinking hard, but about what? In the end, he nodded slowly. "I am sure my mother would welcome such a thing."
"I shall write Mama this very afternoon."
Lord Redhill leaned forward and picked Edward's card off his very cluttered desk. He flipped it over and over in his fingers. "I did not realize that my mother's illness was common knowledge."
"It is not. I learned it from Lady Gwendolyn in confidence."
"In confidence," Lord Redhill echoed. "That is not something she would usually share with anyone."
"I am not the usual friend."
"Obviously not." Then the man pursed his lips. "A mere baronet. She is the daughter of an earl and can look quite higher than you."
Edward dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "I believe she has looked higher. But she found me."
"Does she want you?"
That was a question that could be answered many ways. The only gentlemanly response was a non-answer. "You shall have to ask her that."
Then before they could continue with the awkward discussion of Gwen's wants, Edward passed a different card forward. Lord Redhill took it, peering at the lettering in suspicion.
"That is the name of my solicitor," Edward said. "He has been directed to answer all your questions regarding my status. I believe I can support your sister as she deserves. Even more, I believe I can make her happy."
Her brother snorted in disbelief. "Happy? Gwen doesn't want happiness. She's a girl. She wants passion, excitement, and love."
"What she wants," returned Edward rather too sharply, "is for her mother to be better, her father to be moderate, and her brothers to be present. What she has found, however, is me. And I can make her happy."
"Bold words from someone I have just met." Lord Redhill leaned even further back in his chair, but Edward did not make the mistake of thinking the man relaxed. If anything, his eyes were more piercing than before. "Why did you not apply to my father? That is the usual way of things when asking for a lady's hand."
"I am not asking you for her hand. Only she can give me that. I am asking for your blessing."
Lord Redhill snorted. "As to that, Gwen will do as she wants with or without my blessing."
"You underestimate your value to her."
"And you have not answered my question. Why aren't you speaking with my father right now?"
"Because if I see him, I might very well punch him in the face." It was an honest answer, but a risky one as well. Fortunately, the gamble paid off. Lord Redhill burst out laughing.
"Well, I can see we are of the same mind on that at least." Then he released a loud sigh. "Very well, Sir Edward Murray."
Edward frowned. It sounded as if he were being dismissed, but he didn't quite understand if he'd accomplished his mission or not. "My lord?"
"I said, very well. That means I shall make inquiries as to your background and broach the subject with my sister. If everything is how it should be, then you have my blessing. Though damned if I can see how you did it."
"Did what, my lord?"
"Caught her eye. You're not her usual sort."
He shrugged. "I'm not anyone's usual sort."
They paused a moment, sharing a long moment of growing respect. And in the silence, the butler knocked twice before entering with a tea tray. Edward could tell from the smell that it was a strong brew and his hand actually twitched with the need for it. Matching wits with Gwen at night and her brother in the morning was difficult work. He needed all the strength he could find.
"Go on," muttered Lord Redhill. "He has brought us tea, so you might as well sit and drink it."
Not the most generous invitation, but Edward took it gratefully. He settled down into a chair and soon both he and Lord Redhill were sipping an excellent brew. They talked for a half hour more, the topics general, the conversation genial. Edward's estimation of Lord Redhill grew with every exchange and he could only pray that the man felt the same way about him. Naturally, the man gave no clue as to his real thoughts. That would be reserved for after the financial inquiries were satisfied, as was perfectly appropriate.
But by the time Edward stood to leave, he was well satisfied with his progress. Until the very last moment, that is. He was just reaching for the library door when Lord Redhill spoke.
"One more thing, Sir Edward."
Edward paused and looked back.
"I intend to have the ivy stripped from the walls this very day. Then I shall put bars on my sister's window and broken glass on the sill."
Edward felt his eyebrows raise. "That sounds somewhat excessive."
"One learns with my sister that she was a woman of extremes. It is important to keep up."
"Really?" Edward drawled. "I have not known her to be inconstant in her moods."
Lord Redhill snorted. "Then you obviously haven't known her very long or very well. She is often happy one day, angry the next. In love one week, filled with hatred the very next."
"Ah," Edward said slowly. "I see that Gwen was right about you."
Lord Redhill blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"She said you don't see her. Not clearly. Not since she was about fourteen."
The man's mouth dropped open in surprise. He was obviously at a loss for a response.
"But even so, she loves you to distraction,
" Edward continued. "It would devastate her if you did not approve of me."
Lord Redhill pushed to his full height. Not quite as tall as Edward, but he had a width and a power to his frame that could not be denied. "Then you'd best make sure you do not cross me."
Edward took the warning with a bow. "Learning how not to cross you, your parents, or Gwen is going to be quite the challenge."
"Are you up to it, boy?"
"No," he said honestly. "So it is good that I only have to please Gwen. And I think she is the one who will make the rest of you fall in line."
"She might at that," Lord Redhill said dryly. "Oh listen. I believe that is her dainty tread I hear stomping down the hallway this very moment."
Edward spun around. It was fortunate that he was light on his feet. He jumped back from the door just as Gwen was throwing it wide. She looked fresh and beautiful this morning for all that her hair was hastily pinned back and her gown still wrinkled from the wardrobe.
"Just what the devil do you think you're doing?" she demanded. She had spoken to the room at large, but her glare quickly landed on Edward.
"I was—" he began, but her brother interrupted.
"We were doing what men do, sister dear. Drinking tea, talking horseflesh, and deciding your future."
"How dare you!" she huffed as she headed for her brother. Edward barely had time to grab her arm and hold her back.
"He is baiting you, Gwen. Surely you can see that."
"Of course he is baiting me!" she snapped as she whirled on him. "It's what he always does! He used to glue my dolls to the floor and set the dogs on them. Said he was testing out a new formula for glue. He's a tyrant and a boor—"
"So why do you rise to his bait? Why do you play the child with him when we both know you are a woman grown?"
She stopped, her mouth open and her eyes snapping with indignation. But she didn't speak. And in that moment of silence, he was able to press his point.
