He nodded solemnly, the turned to their audience. “Do excuse us. Lady Dare is feeling a little under the weather, so I will see to her needs. No doubt you’ll all wish to take the time before supper to pack. I know how much you must be missing your own beds, so travel arrangements have been scheduled for first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Winifred, with the baffled look of someone who is aware they have been checkmated, but entirely unsure how.
“See you at supper, then,” he said, bowing to the room before assisting Madeline away. They walked sedately through the entrance hall and up the stairs, but as soon as they reached the second floor, Madeline hitched up her gold-striped gown and began to run toward the master bedchamber.
“Catch me if you can,” she said, with a saucy wink over her shoulder.
With a low whoop, he chased her into the room, slamming the door behind him, and stalking her movements as she kicked off her heeled slippers and headed straight for the oversized four-poster bed. “Trapped, sweetheart.”
“Oh dear,” she said with a sultry smile. “Whatever shall I do?”
“Surrender immediately and prepare to be conquered shortly afterward.”
Her laughter warmed him to the core, but not as much as when she leaped into his arms and kissed him in her deliciously unladylike way. “You know, you are going to fit in beautifully.”
“In your cunt? That fact is already well established,” Ethan replied, cupping her breast and rubbing his thumb across her rock-hard nipple. “Or perhaps you mean your mouth? Your ass?”
Madeline moaned and rubbed against him. “No. The Society. I cannot wait to introduce you to everyone.”
“Which society might this be?”
“The Surrey Sexual Freedom Society. The monthly meeting is in ten days time. You could be a guest speaker. I know everyone would love to hear tales from your journal.”
“There is a possibility I might be convinced to do so by the love of my life.”
Her teeth scraped his ear. “Please, my lord?”
Raw lust burned through him as he held her close. “A good start, my lady. But I’m going to need a lot more convincing.”
So she did.
Epilogue
Surrey, October 1814
“Oh, Lady Dare. We are so very, very happy for you.”
Madeline grinned and accepted the warm hugs from Beatrice, then Amelia as they stood in Lady Portia’s gold parlor chatting after another wonderful Society meeting. “I shall admit my shame and say I can now look at you both with nothing but gladness. Before, it was a great deal of envy.”
Beatrice laughed. “Or a churning stomach? I feel like we should apologize to everyone for all the foolish smiles and hand-holding.”
“Not to mention all the conversations we momentarily forgot we were part of,” added Amelia ruefully.
“It happens,” said Madeline, glancing over to where Ethan was dismantling the display of sketches and travel notes with the assistance of Captain Denham. Her husband’s speech on sexual norms and practices of the ancient Egyptians had been extremely well-received, and she was very much looking forward to joining him in future scholarly expeditions. “Dare is the most accomplished man I know, but sometimes I get distracted by how handsome he is. And young.”
“It’s only five years,” said Lady Portia, as she came to join them. “And I imagine there are significant benefits.”
“Perhaps one or two,” she replied with a wink, and all four ladies giggled.
“Hark! The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse,” said a voice behind her, and they all turned to see Clayton. “And I’ve caught you blatantly admiring the fine figure of Lord Dare.”
Amelia nodded. “Guilty. A rather nice backside, although overall too brawny for my taste. I like his eyes best of all. Aren’t they compelling?”
“They are. Although I must disagree in regards to brawn. I find broad shoulders and chest most appealing,” said Lady Portia, although her appreciative look didn’t seem to quite rest on Ethan. More on the gentleman next to him. Interesting.
“Indeed,” murmured Madeline with a contented sigh.
“Oh, stop it,” said Clayton, more than a little irritably, tension obvious in every square inch of his tall, leanly muscled frame.
She shared a significant look with the other ladies, and they quietly excused themselves. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Clay. I know it isn’t funds, as you landed that lovely new painting commission. Your father?”
“No,” he bit out, then his shoulders fell. “Much worse.”
“Worse?” Madeline replied, startled.
“I’ve found them. The man and woman for me.”
“But that is wonderful!”
Clayton rubbed a weary hand through his golden hair. “No. It isn’t. The couple is the baron and baroness I’m to paint. Hell, Maddy. She is a pretty little brunette with a rounded backside. He has ebony hair and the hard thighs of an expert rider. Lady Portia pointed them out when we were strolling the other day. When I got home, I had to come in my hand. Twice! I’ve never wanted two people more in my life. But it’s hopeless.”
Her brow furrowed, and she reached out and touched his wrist. Clayton was the most vivacious, happy-go-lucky man she knew, and he looked utterly dejected. “How do you know for sure they wouldn’t be interested in dalliance?”
“I made a few enquiries. Apart from a golden touch with money, they are known for one other thing: being as reserved and proper as any ton sticklers. Maybe more so. The last people in the world who would ever ménage.”
Madeline’s heart sank. “Oh, Clay. I’m so sorry.”
“Ah, don’t be. C’est la vie, as the French say,” he replied eventually, attempting a grin that failed utterly. “Anyway, I think Denham needs assistance moving furniture. We’ll talk soon, darling, so I can live vicariously through your no doubt astonishingly sinful newlywed exploits. Fare thee well.”
Frowning unhappily, she watched him walk away.
“Madeline?”
Ethan’s arm slid around her waist, and she leaned into him, needful of his warmth. “There you are.”
“What is the matter with Irving? Thought you said he was a lively chap.”
“Usually he’s the heart of the party. But his heart is sore,” Madeline finished sadly.
“I see. Can we help?”
Oh, how she loved this man.
“Be his friends. Unfortunately, that is all right now. If you’d like to help me, however, you could take me home. The scenic way. I have a new toy, you see.”
A wicked glint lit Ethan’s eyes. “Research is extremely important.”
“Just so,” she replied demurely as she brushed against his cock. “But don’t tell my husband, or I’ll be disciplined.”
“The vicar was correct. So willful! I predict decades of careful management required.”
“At the very least,” Madeline agreed, as he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
How wonderful then, that they had forever.
Also by Nicola Davidson
Regency
The London Lords
To Love a Hellion (#1)
Rake to Riches (#2)
Tempting the Marquess (#3)
Fallen
Surrender to Sin (#1)
The Devil's Submission (#2)
The Seduction of Viscount Vice (#3)
Surrey SFS
My Lady’s Lover (#1)
To Tame a Wicked Widow (#2)
Standalones
Once Upon a Promise
Joy to the Earl (In the anthology A Very Wicked Christmas)
Tudor
His Forbidden Lady
One Forbidden Knight
Contemporary
Ladies First (erotic short stories)
About the Author
NICOLA DAVIDSON worked for many years in communications and marketing as well as television and print journalism, but hasn’t looked back since she decided writing
wicked historical romance was infinitely more fun. When not chained to a computer she can be found ambling along one of New Zealand’s beautiful beaches, cheering on the champion All Blacks rugby team, history geeking on the internet, or daydreaming. If this includes chocolate—even better!
www.nicola-davidson.com
[email protected]
To Tame a Wicked Widow (Surrey SFS Book 2) Page 7
