“I share her Irish sense of humor,” she teased.
“I love to watch you laugh—among other things.”
Sarah set down her fork. “I fail to see any enjoyment in watching me eat.”
“You have such dainty manners, I am fascinated. When you taste something delicious, the tip of your tongue comes out to lick your lips. When you sip your wine, you savor it, as if it were ambrosia.”
She picked up her fork and resumed eating. “I’m not a goddess, come down from Mount Olympus, my lord. I am merely a woman.”
He looked into her eyes. “You are not yet a woman in the full sense of the word, Sarah. That pleasure still awaits you.”
Her pulse quickened, and her cheeks were tinted pink. To cover her shyness, she licked her lips. Then they both laughed at her reaction to his words.
Anne finished her food quickly and threw down her napkin. “Since I am de trop, and you have eyes only for each other, I shall relieve you of my presence.”
“Thank you,” Charles murmured without taking his eyes off his wife. The moment Sarah finished her wine, he lifted the decanter and refilled her glass. When he handed it to her, their fingers met.
“After dinner, would you like to see some of the things I brought back from my travels? I have all sorts of artifacts, jewelry, paintings, and such. Perhaps we can find a gift for you. What do you like?”
“I like art, my lord.”
“So do I. An interest in art is something we have in common. I’m avid to learn more about you, Sarah. Anne’s only interest was a gem encrusted bracelet.”
“I’ve never had jewels, my lord.”
“I shall rectify that. Tonight,” he added.
When the food was cleared away, they finished their wine as Charles told her about his travels. She emptied her glass and he held out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Sarah placed her hand in his, and he led her to his private wing of Richmond House.
He opened the door of a large room that was filled with crates and boxes. He found a stool for her and went down on his knees to pry the wood from a crate that held paintings. He lifted them out, one at a time, and stood them against the walls. “I acquired these in Paris. Tell me what you think. Be honest!”
The first painting was of men and women in fashionable clothes and wigs, dancing in a garden. It was by an artist named Watteau. “I don’t care for it,” Sarah declared.
“It looks like the idle rich. They all look bored, and the presentation is too theatrical.”
“I bought it to remind me just how decadent the rich are in France. The chateaus are opulent and the fashions ridiculous, while the masses subsist on bread.”
“Oh, I like that painting of villagers dancing at a fair. Their clothes are shabby, but the joy on their faces is real.”
“Yes, the artist is Nicolas Lancret. I believe he’ll be famous one day.”
Sarah glanced at another painting. “Is that a portrait of you?”
“It’s King Charles when he was a young man. I can’t make out the artist’s name, but I bought it for Goodwood. I’m sure my father will enjoy it.”
“I’ve only ever seen portraits of when the king was an older man. Your resemblance in this one is amazing.”
“Is that a compliment, Sarah, or an insult?”
“It’s a compliment. You should be proud to be the grandson of a king.”
“He was beloved by many, though he certainly had his faults. But he readily admitted to them, which was part of his charm, I warrant.”
You can be rather charming yourself, when the spirit moves you, but I doubt you will ever admit to your own brutish faults.
Charles opened another crate and lifted out two paintings.
“I absolutely love that one! It must be a painting of Venice.”
“Yes, this is the Grand Canal.” He pointed out a building on the right. “That’s the Doge’s Palace. The artist isn’t well known yet in England. His name is Canaletto. Would you like this painting, Sarah?”
“I would love it! Thank you so much.”
He got up from his knees and took her by the hand. “Come with me.” He led the way to his own bedchamber and took her out onto the balcony. “The view from here across the Thames reminds me of that Venetian scene. See, there’s enough light left in the dark sky to see the white dome of St. Paul’s. I’d like a painting of the river and the buildings from this vantage point. It won’t be like this forever. Things change.”
She was caught up in his enthusiasm. “Do people change?”
“I’d like to think I have, Sarah.”
He moved close and dipped his head and she thought he would kiss her.
Instead he took her back inside. She watched him open a lacquered chest that held items of jewelry. Charles pulled out several trays. “Take your pick, my beauty.”
She stared at brooches, bracelets, and rings, all set with precious gems. Her eyes fell on a necklace of rubies and she craved it immediately. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
“Absolutely. Consider it a wedding present, my love.”
“I’m particularly partial to rubies.” She remembered hearing it from the heroine in a play at the Court last winter, and uttering the words made her feel both giddy and wicked.
Charles picked up the necklace from its velvet tray, lifted her hair, and fastened it around her neck. He swept her up and set her down before a cheval glass. “Your beauty puts the rubies to shame,” he murmured in her ear before he kissed it.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said breathlessly.
“There are ear bobs to match, in there somewhere. Call me Charles and they are yours. You have wooed me to a giving mood. Will you be generous with me, Sarah?”
She hesitated for the pleasure of making him wait. “Perhaps … Lord March.”
He longed to hear the sound of his name on her lips, but refused to show his disappointment. If she wanted to play a teasing game, he would accommodate her. Charles dipped his head and this time captured her mouth in a possessive kiss.
She clung to him as she felt her knees turn to water. Then she gasped as he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the adjoining chamber. He set her down in a chair beside the bed. “Good night, Sarah.” He went out and closed the door softly.
She blinked into the darkness. What just happened?
When she heard a low knock on the door, she smiled and opened it expecting to see Charles. She was surprised when Molly bustled in and proceeded to light the lamp.
“I’m here to help you undress. I put your nightrails in the middle bureau drawer. I imagine you want to wear the sheer one to drive him barking mad.”
“No, a silk one will be fine.” Oh, lord, Molly thinks I’ll be sleeping in his bed. After the way he kissed me, I expected it, too. Perhaps he’s being a gentleman and is showing me consideration. She almost laughed. Charles Lennox was the most inconsiderate brute in the world. More than likely the kiss had been a pretense. He isn’t panting after me at all. At least, not yet. But he will!
Molly undid her corset strings, and Sarah took a deep breath as the tight garment dropped away. “If I were you, m’lady temptress, I’d keep the rubies on. The color matches the jewels at the tips of your breasts.”
As Sarah slipped on the white silk garment, she recalled Molly’s words from earlier:
You don’t ask, you don’t get. “Thank you for your help,
Molly. Good night.”
She crossed the chamber and stood before the adjoining door trying to get up her courage to behave outrageously. If I want the upper hand, I must take it. She turned the knob and let the door slowly swing open.
Charles turned his head toward the door and threw the shirt he had just removed onto a chair. Framed in the doorway with the light of the room behind her, he could see the outline of her body through the silk. Exultant anticipation surged through him, and his arousal stretched the tight material of his breeches. “You’ve come for the ruby earrings.”
<
br /> “No, my lord. I’ve come to return the ruby necklace.” She reached up to unfasten it.
“Don’t!” The command was sharp. “Come, let me do that.”
She glided toward him, and when she stood before him, she turned her back and lifted her hair so he could find the clasp. She felt his lips brush the nape of her neck, and she shivered. “Take it off.”
His arms came around her and his palms cupped her breasts. He bent his lips to her ear. “I don’t want to take it off. I like the feel of your skin through the slippery silk.” His possessive hands slid down over her belly, then back up to her breasts. He pulled her body back against his.
“I … meant … take … off … the … necklace,” she said breathlessly.
“No, you didn’t, Sarah. You wanted me to see you wearing it. You know I am particularly partial to beautiful things.” His hands again caressed her belly, but this time they went lower and stroked over her high mons. Then he turned her and held her at arm’s length so he could look his fill. Her nipples stood erect from his fingers toying with them, and he could see a hint of their pretty color through the white silk.
Her glance moved down his neck to the muscled expanse of his chest. She reached out and ran her fingertips across his ribs. “I have my answer,” she mused.
Charles shuddered at her touch. “Answer?”
“Your body is bronzed by the sun.”
His hands slid down the silk until he cupped her bum cheeks. “I’m curious about your body, too. Let’s explore them together, sweetheart.”
He lifted her against him and walked to the bed. He pulled back the covers and laid her against the sheets. Then he sat down on the edge and removed the remainder of his clothes. “Open your eyes, Sarah. How can you satisfy your curiosity if you don’t look? How can you satisfy your longing if you don’t touch? How can you satisfy your hunger if you don’t taste?” He slid into bed beside her, and leaning on his elbow hung over her.
She raised her golden lashes slowly.
He thought her dark blue eyes looked like deep pools of tropical water. His fingertips traced the curve of her neck and feathered across her delicate clavicle below the necklace. His throat ached at her fragile loveliness. She was so trusting; he wished he could erase his shameful behavior when they had met at their wedding.
He bent his head and kissed her softly; their eyes met, and he held her gaze as he licked her lush lower lip, then slid the tip of his tongue inside her tempting mouth. His kiss deepened, and his palms stroked over her breasts through the slippery silk. His fingers toyed with the tips of her breasts until they ruched into hard little jewels. Then his hands swept the nightgown from her shoulders and lifted her bare breasts so that his hungry mouth could lick and taste her creamy flesh.
Charles captured her fingers in his and brought them to his naked chest. He trailed them down his ribs and across his taut belly. When they brushed against his hard erection she tried to pull her hand away, but he would not release it. With his other hand he reached down to the hem of her silk nightrail and slowly drew it up over her thighs. Then he inched it higher to reveal the honey-blond curls between her legs.
Sarah caught her breath in anticipation of what was to come. She was amazed at how gentle he was and at the adoration his heavy-lidded eyes lavished on her.
With her fingers in his, he stroked them over her mons. Then he inserted her fingertips into her woman’s secret place. She gasped in protest as he guided them to stroke the bud inside her sheath, making it tingle and swell, and in spite of her modesty, Sarah began to enjoy the erotic sensations that spiraled and spread into her core.
He moved her fingers in a tantalizing rhythm that aroused a frisson of desire. It built into a bubble of need that suddenly burst and brought her a sensation of pleasure she’d never experienced before.
He took her fingers to his mouth and licked their tips, tasting her woman’s essence.
Sarah was both shocked and bemused at this intimate gesture. Is he satisfying his hunger by tasting me?
He released her fingers, and his hands began to caress her thighs. “Your skin is lustrous as alabaster. Caressing your bare flesh is far more pleasurable than touching you through silk.” He threaded his fingers through the golden curls, then slid two fingers into her slippery sheath.
He paused until she got used to the fullness inside her and then began to thrust them in and out, slowly at first, then increasing the rhythm until she quickened.
“Charles,” she cried as she climaxed.
He watched her face as her eyes became dreamy and her mouth softened, inviting his kiss. His lips found hers, drinking in her sweetness as if it were rare nectar.
Charles enfolded her in his arms, feathering kisses along her brow, nuzzling his lips against the sensitive spot where tiny golden tendrils curled about her ear.
Sarah fell asleep in the warmth of his embrace. In the morning when she stirred, her body sensed his withdrawal. She opened her eyes and found she was alone in the bed.
She turned her head, and there on the pillow lay the ruby earrings. Are they a gift, or are they a reward for obeying his demand that I call him Charles? She thought about their intimate interlude in his bed and smiled a secret smile. “I received far more than I gave,” she whispered, “and I’m not talking about jewels.”
When Sarah arrived in the breakfast room, Charles and Anne were already there. He got to his feet immediately, held a chair for her, and dropped a kiss on her curls. He smiled into her eyes when he saw she was wearing the ruby earrings.
“In all conscience, I should go to Goodwood and visit my parents,” Charles told her. “Do you think you could find it in your heart to accompany me, Sarah?”
“Your mother was most gracious to me. Of course I will come.” She hid her apprehension about visiting the Duke of Richmond. “You can take the painting you bought for your father.”
“I’m coming, too,” Anne declared. “Father won’t dream of railing at me when he has you to savage, dearest Charles.”
“Coward.”
“I am not a coward, I’m simply following the rules of Society. As an unmarried lady I cannot remain in London in the absence of my married brother and his adored wife.”
“It’s up to Sarah. Can we put up with the baggage, my sweet?”
A mischievous devil inside Sarah prompted her to say something outrageous. “Oh, if we must, but it will mean we won’t be able to make love in the carriage.”
The adoring look Charles gave her told Sarah that he enjoyed her wicked humor.
Chapter Six
The travelers reached Chichester in late afternoon. “I’ve never been here before.” Sarah gazed through the coach window at the lovely stone houses in the walled town.
“There’s Chichester’s famous cathedral,” Charles said, pointing to the spire. “We’ll be at Goodwood in just a few minutes.”
The town disappeared and the carriage rolled over the South Downs. Sarah knew that Goodwood House was an estate of more than a thousand acres. When the horses stopped, Anne alighted and went inside to announce their arrival. By the time Charles and Sarah ascended the front steps, the Duchess of Richmond was in the foyer to greet them.
“Welcome home, darling.”
Charles’s arms went about his mother. He swung her around, kissed her cheeks, and gently set her feet to the carpet. He frowned with concern at how much she had aged in the years he’d been away. “You’ve lost weight. Are you feeling well, Mother?”
She waved away his words. “I’m an old lady. You mustn’t worry about me.” She turned to Sarah. “My dear, you are absolutely blooming. I’m so glad you’ve arrived in time for dinner. This is a lovely surprise.”
“Goodwood is such a beautiful, ancient manor, your grace.”
“Charles, take your wife up to your bedchamber; I’m sure she wants to get out of her traveling clothes after being in the carriage all day.” When the duchess saw Sarah’s hesitation, her smile faded. “Forgive me, pe
rhaps you prefer separate chambers?”
Sarah couldn’t bear to disappoint the duchess. She was so eager for her son to be in love with his wife. “Of course we don’t prefer separate chambers.”
Charles took her hand and squeezed it, grateful for her generous response.
Sarah experienced a pang of guilt at her deception. It melted away when she remembered she would soon have to be civil to the Duke of Richmond. She followed a footman with her luggage up the grand staircase. All at once she felt long fingers encircle her ankle. She kicked her foot backward, annoyed that Charles would touch her intimately in public. When she heard him chuckle, her anger increased. She followed the servant into the spacious bedchamber and waited in silence until the footman put the luggage down and left.
“You are most courageous to enter my den of iniquity.”
Sarah turned and gave him a hard push. “You devil!”
He fell onto the wide bed. “For shame—can’t you wait to seduce me?”
“I didn’t want to disappoint your mother by asking for separate chambers, but that doesn’t mean I will share your bed. You, my lord, can sleep on the floor!”
“If you think I will allow you to go back to my lording it, you are sadly mistaken.”
He rose from the bed and loomed above her.
“Allow? Allow? Don’t use that forbidding tone with me, Lord Bloody March.”
She watched his face change. His features turned dark and dangerous. For a moment she feared he might strike her. Then she saw him clench his fists to gain control of his temper. He bowed coldly and left the room.
Sarah sank down on the bed with shaky legs as she gathered the remnants of her courage. Don’t you dare back down. Keep the upper hand or you will be lost, lost. Sarah began to argue with herself. Pitting yourself against him is not the way to seduce a man. If you want him eating out of your hand, you must tempt him with ambrosia.
She occupied herself by unpacking their clothes and hanging them in the large wardrobe in the adjoining dressing room. Then she washed and changed her gown. She chose a deep rose taffeta that rustled invitingly with every step. As a finishing touch, she decided to wear the ruby earrings he had gifted her with only this morning.
Lords of Passion Page 6
