Ruin Me Please

by Nichole Matthews

  “Ladies, look who has arrived,” Poppy proclaimed.

  All the women greeted Agnes with friendly enthusiasm as Agnes situated herself on one of the rocks.

  ***

  Declan spent more time playing fetch with Georgie and sneaking glances at Poppy from across the lake than he did fishing. He was unable to keep his eyes from her longer than a few moments. “Who is the new arrival?”

  Peyton turned quickly and almost stumbled as his gaze met the familiar gray figure of Agnes Aldebourne. “Oh, t-t-hat is Agnes Aldebourne,” he stammered. “Martin Aldebourne’s daughter, she is Piper’s dearest friend.”

  “I suppose the more the merrier.” Declan smiled, looking back across the lake.

  “Definitely,” Seymour agreed. “As long as it is of the female persuasion, I don’t care.” He winked to no one in particular.

  “Seymour, I swear.” Parker chuckled softly. “You would think that you were an untried schoolboy just waiting for a glimpse of a ladies ankle. Not one of the most notorious rakes in all of England.”

  Seymour raised his brows and stated drolly, “Me? Untried? Please!” He snorted. “I just love women. All women. You are just jealous of my wicked reputation.”

  “Oh yes, Seymour,” Parker replied in a conciliatory manner. “I am completely green with envy.” He rolled his eyes, casting his line once again. “Why do you not apply your efforts to catching a fish instead of trying to reel in every woman you set your eyes upon?”

  “Durham,” Parker called. “I think we should wager on who will catch the biggest fish.”

  “Capital, I do enjoy a good wager.” Durham’s lips twitched. “Maybe I can win my voucher back from Hawk. He obviously has his mind preoccupied with other subjects.”

  “You obviously must love living in dun territory,” Declan retorted, laughter in his voice.

  ***

  “Do you suppose the men are going to fish all afternoon?” Piper asked, fanning herself while at the same time shading her eyes to squint towards the men.

  “I believe the men could fish all day indeed.” Miss Harris heaved an aggrieved sigh. “They seem to find it quite agreeable, although I cannot see why? It seems like such a dull past time.”

  “Well, I for one am glad for it. Why we would never have any time to gossip about the latest on dit or for that matter the latest fashions if we had to forever work at entertaining them?” Chloe pointed, twirling her parasol prettily. “It is my belief that fishing ponds, billiards, cards, cigars, and brandy are all necessary for a woman’s peace of mind.” She grinned at her clever observation.

  “Very smart indeed,” Piper agreed. “I fear I would grow quite tired entertaining a man for an extended period of time.”

  Secretly, Poppy disagreed with Chloe. Fondly remembering the occasions spent alone with Declan. Heat enveloped her as she vividly recalled the delicious moments of passion spent in his arms. “My, it is warm this afternoon,” she said, fanning herself. Glancing at the men, her eyes collided with his as if willed by her very thoughts.

  Declan’s lips curved when she wiggled her fingers at him.

  Catching their interplay, Durham hit him lightly on the arm. Declan smiled even wider.

  Poppy turned to Freya with a grin on her face. “So, how did Durham propose? Was it very romantic? Was it just like we always dreamed?” She peppered her with questions.

  “Please tell,” Agnes agreed excitedly. “Piper told me of your betrothal.”

  Freya giggled loudly. “It was more like groveling or begging.” She giggled again. “However, I must admit it was the most romantic thing I could have ever imagined,” she said with a dreamy smile. “There was not a single moment of arrogance or conceit it was absolutely perfect.”

  “Who could have imagined that a penitent man could be romantic?” Poppy’s blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “That he would resort to begging and pleading to gain your favor is rather fascinating.”

  “I know, rather alarming is it not? It changes everything we had ever presumed.” Freya laughed.

  Miss Harris smiled. “I think it shows an abundance of character. His humility is most admirable.”

  Freya responded, “I agree, Miss Harris.” As she gazed tenderly at Durham. “He is the best of men.”

  As Piper rose to her feet, stretching, she lowered her hand to assist Agnes with standing. “I do not know about the rest of you but I am ready for some refreshments.” Linking their arms they headed towards the tables covered with the cold collation.

  The men noticed the women heading towards the food and immediately set aside their poles ambling towards the tables.

  Peyton shamelessly hollered as he piled his plate with cold chicken, ham and biscuits. “I’m famished, thought we would never eat.”

  “Lord Peregrine, what happy manners you possess. It is so good of you to wait for the ladies to fill their plates before you take your very own refreshment.” She looked disapprovingly down her nose. “You have ever been the perfect gentleman,” Agnes admonished sarcastically.

  Hearing the disparagement in her voice, Piper laughed boisterously. “Well, it can always be said that Peyton is ever the gentleman.”

  “Oh I say.” Peyton smiled sheepishly. “Pardon me ladies.” Chagrin etched on his face, but not taking offense at Agnes’s observation. “My stomach got the better of my manners.”

  “You are excused,” Miss Harris said dismissively. “It is such a stifling hot day who can be responsible for such a trifling lack of manners?”

  “Well, Miss Harris,” Agnes said glancing at the sky once more. “It will surely cool down when the rain finally arrives.”

  “I’ll wager that the rain will pass us by.” Peyton leaned back to look up at the sky.

  “You will be the poorer for it.” Chloe looked about. “I see dark clouds already blowing our way.”

  “If we are wagering, I will place my bet on Chloe’s prediction. Seems much more logical,” Durham stated, picking up a piece of cold chicken and taking a large bite.

  Standing back to allow the others time to fill their plates, Poppy grinned at the verbal exchange. Under her long lashes, she glanced towards Declan. Her face lit up with effervescent brightness at his approach.

  “Would you like to fill a plate?” Poppy asked.

  “You are all the nourishment that I need,” Declan whispered in a deep soft rumble close to her ear. His hand lightly brushed the curve of her hip.

  Shivers of awareness streaked down her spine. He was standing so close that she had to tilt back her head to look into his face. Not desirous to be apart from him, her every intention was savoring their current connection. Smiling dazzlingly up at him, purposely concealing them behind her parasol, she softly purred, “I admit to having a limited education on these types of flirtations, Declan. Am I allowed to be equally as frank with you without causing myself too much embarrassment?”

  With a wolfish smile, he said, “I would relish your candor.” His gaze raked her face returning once again to rest on her mouth.

  She blushed under his obvious admiration, seizing the moment, she whispered huskily, “Then I too would be satisfied with your promised kiss.”

  His eyebrows soared at her comment. “One of your kisses will never be enough to satisfy me, Poppy.” His breath warm against her ear, causing her to shiver once again when he leaned towards her gently capturing her lips in a brief sizzling kiss. Declan smiled, whispering, “You have witchcraft in your lips.” Tortured by their proximity yet unable to touch her in the way he longed, struggling with his desire to feel her softness against him and knowing that he couldn’t sate his desire, he stepped away.

  Far from replete, knowing someone could catch them at any time, she lowered her parasol. Her tinkling laughter surrounded him. “It is clear that I will need to read up on my Shakespeare if I am going to keep up with you. Shall we?” Placing her hand on his arm, she steered him towards the pavilion that housed the table of food.

  After filling their
plates, they strolled towards the group, seating themselves with the others, everyone laughing and joking uproariously.

  Their lively bunch was led by non-other than Lord Seymour, who was generally thought of as the life of any ton gathering. As he lounged negligently on the ground he said, “Did you all here of the big to-do that occurred at the Keckilpenny ball?” He glanced around suggestively. “It has been bandied about that Rockwell, and a certain young lady, were caught in the library…” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “…alone.”

  “No,” Piper cried, the blood draining from her face, quite distressed by the news. “Have they wed?” Her body tensed.

  “Well, I heard tell that Rockwell refused to offer for her. He denies any wrong doing on his part.” Seymour chuckled. “I know all about Rockwell and I know he would never choose a maiden,” he guffawed. “He is accustomed to having his desires gratified. He does not need to stoop to stealing away with an innocent. Bad luck he couldn’t make it this summer. He could defend himself personally.”

  “Everyone knows he is wicked,” Miss Harris supplied. “Rumors of his escapades fly about the ton every Season.”

  “Perhaps he loves her,” Agnes queried, glancing anxiously at Piper.

  Peyton snorted irreverently.

  “That would definitely explain why he has suddenly been indiscreet with this particular interlude,” Chloe suggested. “He lost himself in the passion of the moment.”

  Peyton snorted again, “Love is generally not the feeling that one is attempting to achieve during an assignation in a secluded library during a ball.”

  “Peyton,” Parker admonished quickly.

  “I cannot believe that these lurid tales are benefiting anyone,” Agnes countered, stunned by Peyton’s response. “I also cannot believe that you would be so lackadaisical when rumors are being spread about one of your own friends.”

  “Dreadful,” Chloe agreed. “I do not wish an unhappy or forced match on anyone.”

  “Seymour,” Parker huffed, pointing an admonishing finger at Seymour. “Must everything you discuss be controversial, especially when speaking about our friend? Are you not aware of any pleasant topics to entertain us?” He turned towards his brother. “Peyton, you are aware that there are ladies present,” he warned with a stern look.

  He grinned guiltily. “Pardon, ladies,” Peyton apologized again.

  “Oh, but the scandalous tid-bits are so much more amusing.” Chloe giggled behind her gloved hand.

  Placing his head in his hands, Parker groaned. “I give up.”

  Lost in her own thoughts, Piper did not hear the rest of the conversation. As most were more concerned with the gossip, they failed to notice the misery in her eyes or the ghostly pallor of her skin.

  Declan soothingly trailed his finger up and down Poppy’s arm when he noticed her concerned look. Whispering, “What has you suddenly upset?”

  “Are you acquainted with Rockwell?” She glanced up and found him staring at her.

  “Of course, he was at school with us.” He gestured towards the men.

  After blotting her lips with her napkin, Poppy whispered conspiratorially, “Well, I believe Piper holds some affection for him.” She looked at the dejected slump of her twins shoulders. “This is definitely unwelcome news. I believe she harbored secrets hopes…” She trailed off compassionately.

  “I have known Rockwell for a quite a while.” He paused for a moment. “And he does have a rakish reputation, but I do not believe it is any worse than any of the other men who are enjoying this very luncheon with you today. Most stories are exaggerated beyond recognition.”

  “Believe me, I know.” Poppy frowned, remembering some of the gossip she had heard about Parker while she was in London and she knew for a fact those rumors were lies. “I do hope that Piper is not too disappointed.” She chewed her bottom lip, looking towards her sister.

  “Oh Piper,” Agnes whispered gently. “Do you believe the rumor? It is true that many mammas have been trying to bring him to heel for years.”

  She responded wearily, “I pray not, this is all becoming positively tedious.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I fear it may be so. I’ve never known Seymour to be incorrect with his information.” Placing her arm around her friend, Piper laid her head on Agnes’s shoulder for comfort. “But I do pray he is wrong this time.”

  The summer rain started to roll in with a sudden cool gust of wind causing Poppy to look up. Noticing the dark gray clouds beginning to cover the sky, “Oh dear, it looks like the rain is coming more quickly than I had hoped.”

  Taking command, “We should pack up and head towards home.” Parker slanted a look towards the sky and grimaced. “I have no desire to be drenched.”

  Quickly gathering their belongings, they had barely begun their journey back to the house when fat raindrops began to fall.

  Shrieks of laughter filled the air as they all doggedly slogged the half-mile to the house. Running quickly up the stairs they all dispersed to dry off and refresh themselves.

  Declan quickly grabbed Poppy’s hand stopping her before she could start up the stairs. His eyes wandered down her disheveled hair to her damp gown, which clung enticingly to her slender limbs. Her white linen chemisette proved semi-transparent by the rain and did little to hide the swell of her bosom or the tight little buds of her puckered nipples. He could feel himself hardening, cursing his swelling member. “How very fetching you appear when you are soaking wet.”

  Her heart skipped a beat; she was turning into an absolute wanton. “How very kind you are, Your Grace.” Poppy grinned, her eyelashes fluttering exaggeratedly.

  He watched as color rose in her cheeks and a drop of rain slid slowly down the ridge of her freckled nose. Declan’s lips curved in a breathtaking smile, his hand moved, catching the drop with his finger before it could fall to the floor all the while devouring her with his eyes. “I see you have acquired a few more delightful freckles from our outing this afternoon.”

  Poppy’s dimple peeked out with her grin and she crossed her eyes in an attempt to view the new additions. “I was adamantly warned by Miss Harris to stay under my parasol. However, alas, the sun was eagerly calling to me. Its warmth too enticing to avoid, would you not agree?” She pursed her lips in a pretty pout. “I have been told that I am completely hopeless.” She lightly shrugged her shoulders. “I fear it may be true.” Her brows rose in question.

  His eyes fell to the seductive pucker of her lips. Affectionately, he ran his finger down her nose again, leaning in to kiss the tip. In a rough whisper he said, “There is nothing hopeless about you.” Maneuvering closer he looked around cautiously when he whispered, “Once you have changed, can you steal away? Would you like to meet me in the conservatory?”

  Leaning even closer, Poppy shamelessly whispered back, “I would have met you back in the rain if you had asked.” Stretching on her toes, she placed a light playful kiss on his lips. Whispering, “I will be waiting.” Then grabbing her skirt in one hand she flew up the stairs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Her passions are made of nothing

  but the finest part of true love.

  Antony and Cleopatra

  *William Shakespeare

  She was fascinated, and it wasn’t just because he was so handsome, she was drawn to everything about him.

  With one hand on her fluttering stomach, an uncontrollable fire heated her veins when he was near, she could smell his spicy scent whenever she closed her eyes the hum of anticipation rushed down her spine because she knew he was on his way to her.

  A liquid heat pooled in her womanly place at the thought that she would soon feel the moist, warmth of his mouth covering hers and his tongue tasting her flesh. Her body felt heavy with a powerful need.

  She wet her dry lips.

  Her heart was beating far too rapidly.

  In addition, she was confused at the hot dampness, clenching her thighs in an attempt to ease the ache.

  She was aroused
.

  She had never experienced such a strong physical reaction to a man. Even now, just thinking of his strong tanned hands running over her body caused her nipples to tighten.

  Declan quietly entered the glasshouse. Rain pattered on the glass of the heated conservatory providing a cozy setting for their tryst. The tapping of the raindrops created a soothing rhythm. Bright colorful flowers bloomed strategically throughout the room and the lovely scent of orange blossoms assaulted his senses, pausing he inhaled deeply.

  The click of the lock seemed exceedingly loud in the quiet, echoing throughout the room.

  He found Poppy in a secluded corner sitting on a wide cushioned sofa watching the rain. A visceral tug pulled at his heart. His convictions only strengthened when he saw her comfortably situated on the sofa hugging her knees close to her chest. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, forcing himself to relax before he sat next to her.

  Poppy looked at him, her eyes dilated, a dreamy smile. “Isn’t this perfect? I feel so relaxed.”

  “You’re already aroused,” he said roughly, so masculine. Declan raked his hand through his hair before he shrugged off his jacket and his waistcoat in a haphazard fashion, flinging them to the opposite end of the cushioned seat.

  Piper’s eyes widened, a thrill ran down her spine.

  “There is nothing strange about your reaction. Nothing wrong with being a woman of strong passions, in fact, a man longs to find such a woman.”

  He swept her in his arms, lifting her to sit in his lap.

  She gasped. He lifted her as if she were light as a feather, leaning her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

  Burrowing into the heat of his body, she sighed deeply, every nerve in her body pulsing with sensation.

  Declan pulled her closer, tighter. His every intention was to be an honorable man, but he knew when he asked her to join him that he was playing with fire. “

  “You are perfection itself,” he said, lowering his head to kiss her nose.