Gripped with need, he pulled her closer to his chest, enjoying the sensation of Letitia’s soft breasts pressed against him, and moved one hand caressingly up her back, encouraging her to relax into him, even as he sought the tapes at the back of her dress. As he expertly untied them, Phillip moved back slightly, once again nibbling at her lips, and then at her earlobe, before allowing his mouth to travel slowly down the ivory column of her neck.
At the nip of Phillip’s teeth on her ear, Letty felt a rush of moisture between her legs, and wriggled on the settee, lifting her torso slightly to increase the pressure of his chest on her suddenly swollen breasts as he kissed her neck. No stranger to the signs of feminine passion, Eynsford nipped at the sensitive junction of Letty’s neck and shoulder, while carefully lowering the front of her gown. As he gently drew a rosy, engorged nipple into his mouth, she found herself spearing her fingers through his dark gold curls and pressing him to her breast as she sighed with pleasure.
“Let me make you more comfortable,” whispered Phillip. He pulled a cushion from a neighboring chair and placed it gently behind Letty’s head, and, rising off the settee, swung her legs up onto the settee. He sat down again next to her, relishing the sight of her exposed breasts, one nipple shining with moisture from his mouth. He returned his attention to her breasts, now licking and sucking the second one, even as he gently plucked at her other nipple with his fingers. Her broken moans of pleasure assured him that she was enjoying his attentions, and he reached out with his other hand to lift one of her knees, allowing him to gently pull her foaming muslin skirts and petticoats up to her thighs. As one sensible garter came into view, his urgency rose, and he felt himself grow even harder.
As Phillip’s questing hand moved up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, while his clever tongue and fingers busied themselves with her engorged breasts, Letitia found herself roiling in a sea of pleasurable sensation. Even at the beginning of their marriage her husband, while not rough with her, had not been overly concerned with her enjoyment of the marital bed, so she had no experience of the delights that a talented and attentive lover could provide.
Her passion had been building ever since he first kissed her, and now, as he continued to suckle at her breast while also stroking her thigh, Letty felt a tightness coiling in her lower body, one that only more of Phillip’s caresses could assuage. As his gentle, knowledgeable fingers reached the glinting thatch of golden curls, she gave a tiny squeak of surprise, and her eyes popped open. Eynsford didn’t remove his hand, but he lifted his head a bit, while keeping light pressure on her nipple with his mouth, distending it further, and looked at her. He released it and a bolt of sensation shot down to where is his fingers rested, and Letty’s eyes opened still wider.
Trust me,” he whispered. “I seek only your pleasure, and mine.”
Letitia gave him a tiny smile in return and allowed her thighs to relax and open slightly. Eynsford kissed her deeply, as he gently inserted a finger in her molten channel. As he drew it out slowly, dewy with her moisture, he dragged it with a an exactly calibrated pressure against the pink frills of her nether lips, to rest just quivering against the pearl of nerves at the top of her slit, and Letty felt herself explode with rapture. As she clenched and quivered, Phillip nipped gently at each of her nipples in turn, intensifying the sensation, and pressing his finger back into her channel against the clenching, causing her to convulse again.
He withdrew his finger and looked down at her. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Your passion is amazing beyond words, Letty. I don’t know how…” his voice trailed off as he realized the mentioning the inadequacies of her dead husband was unlikely to add fuel to her fire. “I don’t know how to describe it,” he finished somewhat inaptly.
Letitia opened her eyes. “I didn’t know, I never--” she murmured, before Phillip covered her lips again with his, kissing her deeply.
“You shall feel like that again, or even better, in just a few moments,” he promised, standing up and pulling off his jacket and boots, and opening his breeches.
Letty made a little “Oh!” of surprise when she saw the length and girth of his erection, but shyly stretched out a hand to caress him. After a few moments, he gently removed her hand.
“Let me pleasure you again,” he said, pushing her skirts up to her waist, and spreading her legs, gazing at her greedily.
He pressed two fingers into her, spreading them a little, in the hope of slightly stretching her channel, tight from her husband’s long absence from England, and lack of interest in her on his return. Then he fitted himself to her and pressed in gently, her soft, moist heat feeling like heaven to him. He withdrew slightly, and Letty shivered with anticipation.
“I’ll be very careful,” he reassured her, thinking it might be fear.
“I know you will. And it’s pleasure I feel, so you need not worry,” she assured him, and his passion further stoked, he drove into her urgently. As he filled her completely, Letty felt almost overly full and stretched, but along with that came the return of the building pleasure and the spiraling tightness. She lifted her hips and pushed up against him, seeking greater contact, her hands wrapping around his hips and urging him on, and Phillip could wait no longer. He pressed into her and withdrew, plunging in again and seeking the perfect angle for her delight, until he saw the blush on her chest, heard the hitch in her breath, and felt her tightening around him. He pulled out very slowly, ignoring her frantic protestations, and then pushed in as far as he could as she splintered around him, a cry of wonder escaping her. He captured the sound with his kiss, ever wary of the servants, before allowing himself satisfaction.
Eynsford was the first to move, gently pulling out of Letitia’s body and then lifting her so that her head was cradled on his chest. With a feeling of tenderness that startled him, he stroked her hair. “You are amazing,” he whispered. “So passionate and warm.”
Letitia’s eyelids fluttered open, and she met his gaze for a moment and then dropped her eyes in confusion. “What you must think of me…” she said softly.
“I think only that you are the most wonderful woman I know,” he replied. “I count myself fortunate that you have placed your trust in me.”
Letty looked up at him again. “It was—-it was lovely,” she said, her spirit seeming to come back to her. “I had no idea that—-well, that I could feel that way.”
“Did you not?” he asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Your husband must have had even more failings than I had imagined. I’m glad I could show you what you were missing.”
“Then I suppose I must thank you for your assistance,” said Letitia, a smile in her voice as well. “If it were not for you, I would have no idea at all of—-of that.”
Phillip trailed one finger over her collarbone, and leaned down to press a kiss to the side of her neck. “All you have to do is ask, and I will show you again,” he promised.
“Would you?” asked Letitia, her eyes bright. “When?”
“Whenever you choose,” he promised. It occurred to him that he meant what he said. He was not used to being at the beck and call of a woman, but he was fairly sure that he would drop any activity at the summons of Lady Morgan. He felt a slight twinge of unease at the thought, but forgot it when a huge grin broke across Letty’s face.
“That sounds lovely,” she said. “Tomorrow?”
“And the next day, and the next,” he promised. “If you choose.”
“I do,” she murmured. She looked at the table, where the tea tray remained untouched. “I suppose the tea must be cold by now,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Phillip answered. “Tea is the least of my concerns.”
Letty wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down for a kiss. Eynsford responded with alacrity, but then slowly put her away from him. “If you keep doing that, I will have to stay longer, and the servants will begin to talk,” he said.
Letty, flushing slightly, glanced down to where she could see th
at his rod was growing stiff again. With a reluctant sigh, she released him. “I’m not sure I care if they talk,” she said, eyeing him hopefully.
Phillip closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself not to take her immediately. “I care,” he said firmly. “If word gets out, it will be difficult for us to continue to meet.” And, he reflected grimly, it would be far more likely that his deception would be discovered.
“Oh.” There was a world of disappointment and knowledge in the word. “I see. But you will visit me again?”
“Absolutely,” replied Eynsford.
Letty seemed content with that, and she did not protest when he stood and began to dress himself. But she watched with a sense of confusion as his muscular torso disappeared under his shirt and the handsome angel who had given her so much delight slowly turned into Mr. Markham, her friend.
“Will you still meet me in the park?” she asked, suddenly afraid that she may have replaced her friend with a lover, and not sure she liked the idea, despite the delights of the flesh.
“Of course,” he replied. “I would not miss our afternoons with your children for the world.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You are too kind to me.”
“That would be impossible. I have no idea how anyone could be unkind to you,” said Phillip. He reached out and helped her to her feet. “We must get you dressed,” he said.
With much giggling and many kisses, Eynsford finally managed to make Letty presentable. Reluctantly, he moved to the door, opening it slowly.
“Good afternoon, Lady Morgan,” he said formally.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Markham,” she replied. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” said the marquess, then he collected his hat from the table in the hall and let himself out of the house.
Letitia closed the parlor door and stood staring into space for a moment, aghast. Had she really just allowed a man she barely knew, a lawyer from a world so different from hers, to take such liberties with her? But, recalling the variety of sensations she had experienced, she could hardly regret it. She walked over to the mantel and viewed herself in the mirror above it, wondering if she looked as different as she felt. But the same Letitia Winwood gazed seriously back at her.
She raised her hands to her cheeks. Not only had she allowed Mr. Markham to have his way with her, but she had invited him back. She tried her best to feel shock at her behavior, but instead simply felt a desire to giggle. A lightness entered her, and she felt positively giddy. How shocked others would be if they knew, she thought. She wondered if she should tell Isobel about Mr. Markham, but decided that she was not yet ready to share her secret. For now, she wanted to have something that was only hers.
Chapter 19
Lady Morgan rested in her sitting room, her feet on a stool, her embroidery in her lap, a novel in her hand. It did not hold her attention, however, for her thoughts were firmly with Mr. Markham. She still marveled at the abandon she felt when he held her in his arms, and the astonishing sensations he had wrung from her left her aghast. She now quite understood Isobel’s enthusiasm for Francis.
She wished Mr. Markham back, though he had scarcely been gone an hour. She smiled at her own foolishness; she should be regretting their encounter, but she could not find it in her heart to do so.
The housemaid knocked on the door and entered the room. “Gentleman to see you, ma’am,” she said, bobbing a curtsey.
“Whoever is it, Nellie?” asked Letitia. She was not expecting Lord Exencour and, while she could wish it was Mr. Markham, she thought that very unlikely.
“The Bishop of Mainwaring, ma’am,” replied the maid.
Letitia rose hastily, about to tell Nellie to deny her, but she was too late. The doorframe was filled with a presence, which bore down upon her solicitously.
“My dear Lady Morgan,” said the presence. “I hope you do not mind me calling upon you. Lord Bainstall assured me that you would greet me with pleasure, and so I present myself. Your cousin is a very dear friend of mine. Such an intelligent and sober gentleman.”
“Indeed,” said Letitia. “My cousin has said the same of you.”
The bishop beamed at her. He was both tall and rotund, which, along with a loud voice, allowed him to easily dominate a room, though he believed it was his force of personality, not his mere size, which permitted this. A Roman nose was the focal point of his face, which also featured watery blue eyes and bushy eyebrows. His graying brown hair was carefully brushed into a fashionable style and his clothes indicated that, while he was a churchman, he still had an eye for style, however little it became his stout figure. He appeared to be about forty-five and gave off a strong air of self-satisfaction.
Letitia could not help comparing him unfavorably with Mr. Markham, who had left her presence so recently. The solicitor, while not of the same societal rank as the bishop, had a much more distinguished presence.
“How kind of him,” the bishop replied. “Lord Bainstall has also told me pleasant things about you, Lady Morgan. He spoke of your gentle and biddable nature and your many womanly accomplishments. And when he said you were well looking, he did not do you justice. You are quite lovely, quite lovely indeed.”
The bishop ran his eyes over Letitia in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. She removed her hand from his clasp and moved towards the settee.
“Will you not sit down?” she asked.
Dr. Wolfe seated himself with alacrity. “What a lovely home you have here,” he said. “I commend you on your taste. Kensington, while not so fashionable as other areas, is well suited for a widow in straitened circumstances.” At Letitia’s surprised look he continued. “I know you will not mind that your cousin has shared with me the details of your situation. As a man of God and a close friend he knew that I could be trusted with such a confidence.”
The bishop paused politely for Letitia’s comment, but as she was too startled to make one, he continued.
“I must convey to you my condolences on the death of your husband. I did not know Lord Morgan, but I am sure he was a noble soul, as any member of such an old and distinguished family must be. It is very sad that his life was cut short in such an unhappy way.”
“Indeed,” said Letitia, struggling to get her bearings.
“But as sad as a death is, the survivors must go on,” continued Dr. Wolfe. “My own dear wife died some two years ago, and I mourned her deeply, but now it is time to put it behind me. It would be selfish of a gentleman, still relatively young and with a good fortune, not to marry again.”
“I am sure that many women would find you a most attractive suitor,” Letitia answered cautiously.
“I thank you, Lady Morgan, for that compliment. A young woman might be excused for considering me a bit elderly. I am glad to find you do not.”
Letitia felt that the conversation was entering dangerous territory that she did not wish to tread, and asked the bishop if he would care for some tea. Upon his agreeing, she rang for the maid, and some moments passed in the ordering of refreshments.
Letitia attempted to restart the conversation on a more general note. “How are you acquainted with my cousin?” she asked.
“Bainstall and I were at Oxford together,” said the Bishop. “We grew close then, as we were more serious-minded than most of our classmates. I have a great admiration and affection for him, as I am sure you do as well.”
“I am aware that he has a great interest in my welfare,” said Letitia.
“As he should. A woman alone is a great concern for the head of the family, and Bainstall has a well-developed sense of duty. He is aware that it is important for a young widow with small children to find another husband to take care of her.”
Letitia fought down a rising sense of panic at the uncomfortable turns the conversation continued to take. “My husband has been dead barely five months, Dr. Wolfe,” she said as repressively as possible. “I have given no thought to any future marriage.”
“A certain
amount of loyalty to the dead is, of course, very proper,” said the bishop firmly. “However, you must not allow your sorrow to overshadow what is best for you and your children. Women are not fit to govern themselves, and your son needs the firm hand of a father, just as a girl needs a mother’s loving care. I myself have two daughters who miss their mama dreadfully.”
At this welcome moment Nellie returned with the tea tray. Letitia was appalled that the Bishop had not only materialized, but had apparently been led by her cousin to believe that she was seeking a second husband, and that he was a likely candidate. As she poured the tea she cudgeled her brains, trying to think what Isobel might do in such a situation.
Letitia handed the bishop his cup of tea and made one last attempt to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable topics. “We have been having exceptionally pleasant weather of late, have we not?” she asked. It was not what Lady Exencour might have said, but at least it did not have to do with marriage.
“Quite delightful,” said Dr. Wolfe. “We are lucky to be blessed with sunshine so early in the year.”
“The Gardens are lovely. The children enjoy playing there very much,” observed Letitia.
“My daughters also enjoy playing out-of-doors, although I usually attempt to turn their minds to more studious matters,” said the Bishop. “Girls do need some learning, though I would not be so foolish as to encourage them in scholarly pretensions. Perhaps I might bring them to visit someday so our children may become acquainted. I fancy they would get along very well.”
“I am sure that they would, but I am not certain that...” Letitia’s voice dwindled off.
“If you are worried about the impropriety of my visiting you, you need not,” said Dr. Wolfe. “As a man of God I believe that no one could judge my actions to be less than proper. You need not worry about the gossips.”
An Indecent Charade: Letitia's After Dark Regency Romance Page 11
