by Tamara Gill
“Shall we agree that after the next set we shall reacquaint ourselves in the location discussed?” she said, her eyes bright with mischief.
Hugo cleared his throat as lust roared through him. “I…yes.”
She all but purred in his arms, and the knowledge that within the hour they would be pleasuring each other made the short sixty minutes seem too far away. He slowed them as they turned at the bottom of the ballroom floor, before making their way up along the other side. “I don’t believe I’ve told you how very beautiful you look this evening.”
“You just did.” Lizzie laughed, a throaty, seductive sound that made him harden in an instant.
“Before I have the urge to place you on my shoulders and carry you out of here like a caveman, tell me what you’ve been doing the last two days, other than the time we met in the park of course. I’m hoping you’ve been a little more productive than myself. I have struggled to have coherent thoughts since you left my bedroom.”
“Is this your way of telling me that you’ve missed me, my lord? You do know that for a man of your reputation, you’re putting it in danger by saying such things. Anyone would think that you longed to see me again. That you cared.”
How true that was. Lizzie was the only thing that had occupied his mind for the past two days. In fact, before he espied her in the park he’d even considered sending for his stable staff to prepare two horses, so they could go riding. It was only luck that he’d come by her in Hyde Park.
He watched her as they danced and the thought of her being married to some other gentleman made his guts clench. She would never do for anyone else, since she fitted him so perfectly. And yet, while he wished she could be his, if he made it so, he would lose everything. His tenants would lose everything.
He scoffed and pulled them into a tight turn, knowing how unfair and selfish he was being. To give hope where there was none was not something he should do, and yet he could not help himself. He didn’t want to give her up. Didn’t want to be in this position.
“What are you scowling at, my lord? You seem very fierce at the moment.”
Hugo shook his thoughts aside and made himself more congenial. “Tell me more about you. I want to know everything.”
She sighed, possibly in relief, and threw herself into the new topic. “Well,” she said, frowning a little in thought, “I enjoy horses and riding more so than I like being out in society. That was always Mama’s idea, and her desire to find me a good husband. I hate seafood but love sweets. I enjoy shopping, and going to horse races. As you know, I want to travel to Italy one day, possibly even live there for a time.”
“I have been to Rome. It’s a wonderful city, full of history, and the streets smell of olives and herbs.”
She chuckled. “It doesn’t smell like that, you made that up.”
He laughed. “I did, it doesn’t smell the best, but it is old. Ancient, in fact. You will love it when you get there, which I have no doubt you will accomplish one day.”
“What else can you tell me about it? I’d love to know.”
For the remainder of the dance Hugo told Lizzie about his entire trip abroad and the wonderful people he had met along the way. He spoke of the ruins of the Circus Maximus, the Colosseum and the gladiatorial bouts that had occurred there, how unbelievably majestic it must have been to see it during its glory days. Of the beautiful villas, and the bathhouses, some of which still ran today. As they talked, their discussion turned to other subjects, that of books and what authors they enjoyed, including one in particular that they did not agree about.
“She’s not at all writing a sensible story. I highly doubt the Bennett sisters would’ve found such high and well-connected marriages in real life.”
“I’m not titled, although I do have a gentleman father, may he rest in peace, and a cousin who’s titled, and yet here I am, talking to a viscount. And,” she added, looking about them, “from the annoyed glances I’m getting from some of the ladies present, I can only assume they’re put out with me taking up so much of an eligible man’s time.”
“You deserve my whole attention.” It took all of Hugo’s control not to lean down and kiss her. Warmth spread through his chest and he could barely wait to have her alone.
Everything that Lizzie and he had spoken of was intelligent and noteworthy. They had not agreed on everything, and she did not shy away from telling him her opinion, or when she thought his was misplaced.
Hugo had never been able to stomach the idea of a wife who had no independent thought. He doubted that Miss Fox would even care about his opinion or giving hers. Her interest in him had never been anything other than an alliance–a contract.
In the weeks since they’d returned from Lady X’s house party, Lizzie had become a woman who demanded his respect and admiration. The dance came to an end and, taking her hand and placing it on his arm, he started back toward her mama. “It’s eleven o’clock. In fifteen minutes, meet me in the stairway as planned.”
She nodded but didn’t reply, simply curtsied and rejoined her parent. Hugo lingered for a couple of minutes before heading toward where they would rendezvous. Excitement thrummed through his blood at having her to himself, alone and away from the ton’s prying eyes. Very, very alone, where they could get to know each other a little more, but in the biblical sense.
Lizzie slowly wandered over toward the ballroom doors, and when she was certain no one was watching what she was doing, she exited the room, walking quickly toward the servant’s stairs where Hugo said he would be waiting.
Finding the door that was made to look like the wall, she pushed it open and slipped away, shutting it quickly and standing there a moment to adjust her vision to the darkened space.
She stifled a scream when he stepped out of the shadows and wrapped his arm about her waist, taking the opportunity to kiss her softly. Lizzie threw herself against him, her body tight and longing for more. It seemed like weeks since she’d been with him intimately, not only a couple of days. The man was addictive and she was sorely suffering cravings when not around him.
“Where to from here?” she whispered when he finally broke away.
He pulled her toward the stairs. “Follow me.” They travelled up two flights of stairs before Hugo peeked out into the hall and, seeing it clear of anyone else, pulled her into a room across the way and locked the door.
It was a guest chamber, clean but sparsely furnished. An emerald duvet sat on the bed, and the curtains of the same color hung across the two windows that faced the square. There was a chaise lounge before the unlit fireplace.
“Come here,” Hugo said, his voice deep, his eyes warm and inviting.
Lizzie’s body didn’t feel like her own and she all but thrummed with pent-up excitement as she walked over to him and wrapped her arms about his neck. “What do you plan on doing with me, Lord Wakely?” she asked, although she had a fair idea just what he was going to do with her, and she couldn’t wait for the pleasure of it.
“I want you to lie on the bed and lift up that beautiful gown so I may kiss you to climax.”
Oh my… Without delay, Lizzie did as he bade. Her gown was heavy but with Hugo’s help she soon had it ruffled up about her waist. The cool night air kissed her skin and she shivered. He kneeled, then placed his large hands on either side of her legs and pushed outwards, his eyes dark with need and admiration.
Never had she been so exposed, so vulnerable, but even so, she trusted him, knew he would never do anything that she did not want.
He pulled her toward him, placing her mons right before his mouth.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, running his finger over her flesh, paying homage to her nubbin that she now knew existed after their previous encounters, and knew just how pleasurable that part of her body could be.
“Stop teasing me, my lord. I cannot bear another second.” If he did not touch her soon she would expire. And then his hot breath moved up her thigh with slow tenderness before his lips kissed her there…
&
nbsp; Lizzie sucked in a breath, unsure as to what she was feeling having him do what he was. The sensation was odd, but when he flicked her with his tongue she couldn’t halt the moan that slipped free.
Heat spread across her cheeks and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to just enjoy, forget the embarrassment at being so open to him, under his complete control, and simply give in to what his fabulously clever mouth could do.
Her hands speared into his hair, and she found herself undulating under his touch. How would she ever live without such tactile contact with a man after experiencing such rich pleasures? The thought of Lord Wakely doing this to another woman left her emotionally spent and she pushed the vision away. He was hers, she was sure of it. Such passion and joy was surely uncommon, only happened between couples who cared for each other deeply.
His pace, his ardent response between her legs increased and she shut her eyes, reveling in his touch. “Hugo,” she gasped as he slid one long, strong finger into her heat. The sensation of his touch and his tongue was too much and she shattered in his arms, allowing the pleasure to rock through her over and over again as he kissed and drew every last ounce out of her body.
He came over her, his gaze serious. Laying beneath him, Lizzie’s bones resembled jelly and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, to curl up in his arms and be with him like this forever.
She reached up and traced his lips with her finger. “Such a wicked man with such a clever mouth.”
He flopped beside her, leaning up on one elbow. The sound of voices carried to them from the passage outside and Lizzie stilled. Hugo sat up, pulling her skirts down quickly and fixing his cravat.
“I saw Lizzie went this way, Mrs. Doherty. If you’ll follow me.”
Lizzie met Hugo’s eyes, all traces of pleasure gone.
“That was Lady Leighton and your mother. You must return to the ball and say you stepped outside onto the terrace for air. Tell them you were feeling unwell and needed some time away from the crush of the ball.”
Lizzie nodded, standing and fixing her gown some more before checking her hair was back in place. “I’m sorry I couldn’t… In any case, goodnight, Hugo.”
He pulled her to a stop when she stepped toward the door, and cupping her cheek he kissed her. “Goodnight, Lizzie. We will meet again.”
She nodded and slipped away, returning to the ball the way she’d escaped it. Oh yes, she would see him again. Again and again, if only he would choose her.
Chapter 15
Hugo sat at his desk and glared at Lord Leighton, one of his oldest and closest friends. But after today that was in doubt, and especially after what he had just said. Hugo would be lucky if the man didn’t pummel him to a pulp.
“Katherine saw you, and had it not been for her quick thinking Lizzie’s mother would’ve entered that room and seen who knows what. How dare you disobey me after I told you to stay the hell away from my cousin!”
Hugo had never seen Hamish so angry, and should he find himself in Lord Leighton’s situation he could understand his temper. However, Hugo could not help what he’d come to feel for Lizzie. He could no sooner stay away from her than the sea could stay away from the sea bed. It was impossible.
“Do you love her?” Hamish asked him, his eyes as hard as his tone.
Hugo shifted on his chair, having not thought whether what he felt for Lizzie was love. He certainly cared for her a great deal, wanted only the best for her, but love? That he couldn’t say. “I don’t know what I feel for her, but what I do know is that I have a decision to make, one that is not easy. I care for Lizzie, more than I thought I could care about anyone in the world, but I don’t believe it’s love.” The words spoken aloud rang an alarm in his mind and he frowned. Denying the emotion seemed wrong, didn’t sit well with him, and his stomach turned.
“Then tonight at our ball you will announce your betrothal to Miss Fox. She will be in attendance and it would be the perfect location to tell the ton. Lizzie no doubt will be upset, but at least she may retire to her rooms, away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues.”
“I will not do that to her so publicly. How could you ask such a thing of me? Do you not care for your cousin at all?”
The fury on Hamish’s visage gave Hugo pause and he wondered if he’d pushed the earl too far. “I love my cousin, and care for her a great deal, have cared for her for the past six years. Had you not been a blind fool you might have seen her pining after you all these years, but you were too busy dipping your wick about town and now it’s too late. You told me yourself of the financial predicament you find yourself in.” The earl paused, taking a calming breath. “You had twelve months to look into other options to secure your estate. Such actions might have given you the ability to marry anyone you wished and whenever you wanted. Tell me, what have you been doing with your time, Hugo? Because to me it looks like you’ve been a sloppy viscount.”
“I’ve been a fool, I know that now. I should have done more than to decide to marry an heiress to solve my problems. But I never banked on Lizzie being as wonderful as she is. To have her I must lose everything, and yet I find myself not wanting to make the decision either.”
“Lizzie cannot help you with your financial difficulties, therefore you need to choose. You either offer for Miss Fox and her thousands of pounds or you offer for my cousin. But I will not allow you to tamper with her emotions any longer. She deserves a man to pick her, to love her for who she is. Are you that man, Hugo? Are you willing to risk all that you have, to have her in your life?”
Hugo swallowed, unsure what he wanted. Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted Lizzie, in all the ways a man wants a woman, and a husband wants a wife. But by doing so his tenants and the servants at his country estates would be unemployed overnight. Their livelihoods gone without notice. He could not do that either. Hamish had said he’d been a sloppy viscount. Well, at least there he might be able to make amends for his wrongs.
Lizzie deserved more than what he could give her. He could give her affection, passion, but little else. They would be forced to live in London, with no country estates, no house parties, and their living would be frugal–the servants in town would have to be minimal. He could not do that to her. She deserved to be lavished with beautiful things, treated and pampered like the goddess she was.
“I will tell her I cannot marry her.”
Disappointment crossed Hamish’s face and Hugo looked away, not wanting to see reflected in his friend’s eyes the dissatisfaction that he himself felt. “No, you will not. You will write a letter right now and I shall deliver it to her. If I know my cousin, and I do, very well, she will try and persuade you otherwise should you not offer for her. I cannot allow her to do that. The man who marries her, if she ever marries, will be worthy. You, Lord Wakely, are not.”
Hugo nodded. There was no point in trying to dissuade the earl. He pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled as best he could a note to Lizzie. A note that he knew would break her heart when she read it. He signed it then folded it and sealed it with wax. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
Hamish snatched the note out of his hand and strode to the door. “On reflection, you’re disinvited to the ball this evening. I do believe it will be many years before we’ll be friends again. Good day.”
Hugo stared at the door for some time after it slammed closed. What had he done? His guts churned with the knowledge that Lizzie would read his note, be crushed by his words. He stood and poured himself a brandy. He was a bastard. She would never forgive him. She would never be with him again, and rightfully so.
How was he ever to survive it? That he didn’t know, and right at this moment in time he wished he would not. Death was better than this wretched, self-loathing emotion he now had coursing through his blood. The ton had always thought him a cad, and now he’d truly earned that name. For the first time in his life, it was true.
Lizzie sat in the coach as it rumbled toward Lord Wakely’s home. After reading his missive, she’d scrunched
it up and thrown it in the fire. If he was going to break her heart, he could damn well look her in the eye and do it. Not hide behind a letter and have her cousin deliver it for him.
The coach rocked to a halt and she jumped out, not waiting for the driver. Without knocking, she opened the front door and let herself in. The butler, on his way to meet the viscount’s guest, started at her intrusion and mumbled something about her not disturbing the viscount as he wasn’t receiving guests, but she pushed the library door open and slammed it in his face without care.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hugo? You think you can write me a letter and I’ll just scuttle away like a good little girl?”
His eyes wide, he looked up from the chair before the fire and Lizzie could tell from his bloodshot eyes that he’d hit the brandy. “Lizzie. I—”
“Don’t you Lizzie me. How dare you treat me with so little respect. I think after everything we’ve done, all that I thought we felt for one another, I deserve more than just a note.” She took a calming breath, not wanting to lose control of her emotions, although that may happen anyway as her eyes already stung with the threat of tears.
“Your cousin wouldn’t allow me to see you.”
“You have no right to blame Hamish. He has nothing to do with this. You could’ve said no to that. You could’ve said you wanted to speak to me. Explain why you would sleep with a woman, open your heart to her, only to discard her without a backward glance.”
Hugo stood, coming over to her. He went to take her hands and she slapped him, hard. He reeled and she swallowed, the sting of her palm nothing to the sting of tears in her eyes. “I loved you.” She shook her head, not believing this was even happening. “I thought you loved me too.”
“Lizzie, I cannot marry you. I lose everything, the people who rely on me lose everything. I could not care less about having nothing, but I do not want that for you. As for my employees, they do not deserve to suffer because of my father’s spite and my inability to toe the line. I have to give you up, for I have nothing. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
