She felt as if she were watching the conversation from a great distance away.
A short while later, Seger lured Clara to a quiet corner of the room and watched the others, as if to make sure no one was watching.
“You look lovely tonight.” He ran a finger along her forearm and up to the top of her long glove. “But you always look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m nervous, Seger.”
“Why? We are engaged now. All is right and proper.”
She glanced uneasily at the others, who were laughing about something. “Yes, but it all happened so fast. Aren’t you worried? You don’t have cold feet?”
He smiled. “If anything, I want to move the wedding date forward. That’s how badly I want you. I’d like to move straight to the honeymoon.”
He touched her briefly behind the ear, kissed her on the mouth, and sent a wave of gooseflesh down the length of her body. It was all done so quickly, so discreetly, that it left her trembling with desire for something more.
How skilled he was at seduction. He could reduce her to a blob of besotted pudding with a single touch.
She wondered suddenly if he would ever do something like that to another woman in another drawing room one day. Was that how easy it would be?
No, Clara, she quickly chided herself. She had to stop thinking these things. He had told her he would try to be faithful. He had told her he wanted her more than he’d wanted any other woman in a very long time. She would be content with that and enter into this marriage with favorable expectations.
Clara swept all that jealous nonsense away. “I admit, I am looking forward to our honeymoon, too.”
“Then let us marry in September.”
“Your stepmother suggested the spring.”
“Yes, but she’s not thinking about what I am thinking about.”
Suppressing a chuckle, Clara replied, “I’m afraid to ask.”
“Good, because I don’t think there are words for it.” They walked leisurely around the room, aware of the others talking and laughing.
“October, then?” Seger asked.
Clara raised an eyebrow. “A wedding should not be rushed. There are things to plan, like flowers and music and food.”
“It can all be planned in a day if one is focused.”
“My gown must be designed and made. That can’t be done in a day.”
“It can be done in a week for the right price.”
“A week! You’d have me wear something plain or unoriginal?”
“I’d have you wear nothing at all if we could do it in private. Honestly, all that wedding business is just for show. I’ve never cared about what other people think and I would marry you tomorrow in the back garden with only the necessary number of witnesses if you would agree to it.”
She sipped her champagne and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you afraid I’ll change my mind?”
He pressed a hand to his chest as if he had been shot. “Good God. I hadn’t thought of that. Now that you mention it, I suppose I must consider the possibility. How will I ever keep your interest through the winter, which is so dashedly long and cold?”
“I think the question of the hour is how I will keep your interest,” she replied.
He stopped walking and leaned in closer. “That will be easy. Just smile like that, wear more dresses like that, and every once in a while, send me a lewd letter.”
Clara laughed out loud. The others quieted and glanced at them, then resumed their conversations. Seger and Clara chuckled privately with each other.
“I would give anything to be alone with you right now,” he said softly. “I fear this proper behavior where you are concerned will be the death of me.”
“I wouldn’t want that.”
His gaze smoldered. “Then marry me in September.”
“You are very persistent.”
“When I want something, yes. September?”
“But it is now June. That gives us a little over two months.”
“That’s two months too long. Let’s tell everyone tonight. The wedding will be in September. I can make arrangements for our honeymoon immediately. Would you like to go to Italy? Or perhaps America? You choose, as long as it’s in September.”
She shook her head at him in disbelief. “Do you never give up?”
“Not when it comes to what I want. Will you agree?”
His tenacity was amusing and flattering and left her feeling warm and excited inside. Unable to resist his enticing, pleading expression, she set her empty glass down on a table and grinned wickedly. “Yes.”
“Superb. Now that leaves us two whole months to figure out a way to avoid another scandal.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, concern suddenly clouding her thoughts.
“You don’t expect me to survive that long without kissing you, do you? Did I mention you might be the death of me?”
Clara laughed again and tapped his chest with the tip of her closed fan. “What are we going to do about that?”
He touched her arm where it was bare, just above the top of her glove and below her short, lacy sleeve. She felt instantly aroused and glanced at the others to make sure they weren’t watching.
Seger whispered in her ear. “I still know how to give pleasure without destruction, and I believe you know how to enjoy it. All we require is a location.”
She gazed up at him in disbelief. “You’re not trying to lure me out to your coach in the middle of the night again, are you?”
“Actually, I had somewhere else in mind. Somewhere much more comfortable, but a good deal riskier. How about tomorrow night?”
Could she even pretend not to be interested in hearing his shocking and appalling plan? Not a chance.
Her mouth curled up in a smirk as she flicked open her fan and waved it in front of her face. “All right. I’ll bite. What, pray tell, are the scandalous particulars?”
Seger woke the next morning feeling famished. His future wife was turning out to be a bold and adventurous woman, unlike any of the proper young debutantes he’d met in the past.
He was not sorry, he decided as he sat down in the breakfast room and picked up his newspaper. He needed a woman like her as a wife, someone who would enjoy a little spice in their marriage. Or presently, in their engagement. He could never have married a tame and spiritless young woman. He needed excitement, and Clara, innocent as she was, was proving to him again and again that she suited him absolutely. She had agreed to his shocking proposition—even he thought it was shocking—and he would see her tonight. In private.
Maybe with a few well-timed trysts like these, he would survive until September after all. Though it would be a challenge not to deflower her completely. Could he survive that? He had already plucked a good number of petals.
He looked up from the paper when Gillian walked into the breakfast room. “Good morning,” he said.
Under her arm, she carried a large, heavy package wrapped in brown paper, and set it down on a chair at the table. She served herself breakfast from the sideboard and took a seat. “It was a nice dinner last night,” she said. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
He glanced up from his paper again. His cousin did not usually initiate conversations at breakfast. She was painfully shy, and this attempt to converse surprised him.
Seger casually folded his paper and set it aside. “I did enjoy myself. And you?”
Rarely did Gillian meet his gaze when she spoke to him—or anyone else for that matter—but this morning she made the effort. A few times, at any rate.
It was a shame that she was not more confident, Seger thought. She was not an unattractive young woman, if only she would smile and speak up more often.
“It was delightful,” she replied. “I must say, I like Clara very much. She’s lovely.”
“I’m ple
ased to hear it.”
The conversation stalled for a moment while Gillian ate her breakfast. Seger considered picking up the paper again but did not wish to be rude. He sipped his coffee instead and stared out the window.
“September is a wonderful time for a wedding,” Gillian said, surprising him again by resuming the conversation. “Will Clara’s family come from America? I understand she has another sister.”
“Yes, her name is Adele and she’s eighteen. I’m sure she will look forward to meeting you, Gillian. She is out this year for her first Season, just like you.”
“I wonder what it would be like to have a Season in New York,” Gillian replied. “America sounds like an exciting place. I would like to visit it sometime.”
“Perhaps you will.”
She smiled at him, though he saw very little joy in her eyes. He had never seen Gillian sparkle the way Clara did, and he’d known her since she was an infant, when she came with her mother from Scotland to attend Quintina’s marriage to Seger’s father. Seger had been seven at the time.
Seger also recalled the day they buried Gillian’s mother, two years ago. Gillian had wept silently through the entire service. Seger had sat in a pew across from her and watched her wipe her cheeks incessantly under the black netting of her hat, but she never uttered a sound.
She, like him, was an only child—except that she had been extremely close to her mother. Quintina had explained the uncommon bond between them when she received the telegram about her sister’s death. Seger had marveled at the bond, realizing he was not able to understand what it could have been like growing up in a house where one did not feel completely alone. Seger had grieved deeply for the young woman’s loss.
She must feel very alone now, he thought with more than a little sympathy, though Quintina did her best to be a mother figure.
Gillian finished her breakfast and set down her fork. She reached for the package beside her. “I have something for you, Seger. It’s an engagement gift.” She stood and brought the gift around the table and handed it to him.
He gazed up at her warmly. “What an unexpected surprise. Thank you, Gillian.”
She sat down in Quintina’s usual spot while Seger used his breakfast knife to cut the string and open the package.
“The latest edition of The Popular Atlas,” he said with delight. “What a perfect gift, Gillian. How did you know I enjoy maps?”
“I’ve noticed that you read a lot of travel books, and the atlas you have is very old. This one is new and has more detail.”
He leafed through it. “I dare say it does. This is magnificent. Thank you again.” He smiled at her, reached across the table and patted her hand. “I will treasure it always.”
Her eyes lit up at the compliment and he was pleased to at last see some evidence of a spark.
Chapter 13
Dear Clara,
Mother is determined to have me follow in your footsteps next year. She has hired an Englishwoman as my new governess. Mrs. Wadsworth is helping me to learn all about aristocratic etiquette. Just today I learned that if I was ever to break a vase or a glass in a noblewoman’s home, I should not offer to pay for it. That would be very bad form. Keep that in mind if you are ever so clumsy, dear sister...
Love,
Adele
Shortly before three o’clock in the morning, Clara tiptoed downstairs to open the door she and Seger had decided upon—the same one she had used to sneak out on the night she met him in his coach.
Tonight, however, she would not go outside. He would come to her. For one hour, while everyone slept, he would share her bed.
It was risky and imprudent she knew, but she was overwhelmingly desperate to be alone with him again. And they were engaged. It wasn’t as if she was doing this with a stranger. Seger was going to marry her. Besides that, it was never too soon to start building upon the foundation that she hoped would grow into something more. That was perhaps her primary objective, why she couldn’t help but be accommodating to his needs, which at the moment were solely physical.
Consequently, she had given him detailed instructions on how to make his way through the house in the dark, and how to find her room. She told him she would leave her door ajar and light a candle. She explained which floorboards creaked, and which doors were routinely left open. Thankfully there were no dogs in Wentworth House to raise a ruckus, so Seger could be sure of reaching her room without incident.
Clara sat on her bed on top of the covers, her nightgown unbuttoned at the collar, her hair freshly combed, feeling as if she were waiting for a train to crash through her door and plow across her bed. Her heart was pounding, her senses humming as she listened for the slightest sound from outside her room. The nervous excitement coursing through her veins was enough to make her giddy.
The clock chimed three times in the entryway downstairs, then a few more minutes ticked by. Anxious about Seger’s safe and undetected arrival, Clara slipped off her bed and padded to the door to peer out into the hall.
He wouldn’t forget, would he? she wondered uneasily. Maybe he did this sort of thing all the time—snuck into ladies’ bedrooms in the middle of the night—and it was easy to disregard. He might have fallen asleep. He might be at a party somewhere and lost track of time.
But then suddenly, without warning, there he was. He appeared like a phantom out of the darkness, backed her into the room, and closed and locked the door quietly behind him. “Let’s hope your maid is a sound sleeper,” he said in a low, husky voice as he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately.
The next thing she knew, Clara was being eased down upon the bed. Seger removed his jacket and waistcoat and lay down beside her, leaning over her while running his forefinger down her cheek and neck, causing her to shiver all over with thrilling anticipation.
“I thought you’d never get here,” she said.
“Well, I’m here now. Can I convince you to let me stay for two hours, not one?” he whispered with an appealing boyish grin.
“I suspect that in a few minutes, you’ll be able to convince me to do just about anything, so give me your word, while I still have control of my senses. One hour, then you must go. Promise.”
He nodded and unfastened another button at the collar of her nightgown, gazing flirtatiously into her eyes the whole time. “I’m always making promises where you are concerned. But yes, I promise.”
His mouth covered hers and she drank in the exquisite taste of him as he gathered her nightgown in his fist and slowly tugged it upwards.
For a while they kissed and pressed their bodies together on the bed, thrusting and heaving as he used his hands to stroke and pleasure her everywhere. Before long, Clara’s nightgown became too great of a hindrance, so she sat up and pulled it off over her head. Suddenly she was naked in the candlelight, without shyness, allowing Seger to gaze openly at her body. Sitting up on her heels, she realized she never knew couples did this sort of thing together. She’d imagined that everything would take place in pitch darkness, under the covers, with the lovers’ eyes closed.
“You are so lovely,” Seger whispered. Then he eased her onto the soft mattress again and swept his tongue over the rigid peaks of her breasts. Clara wriggled with rapture and had to fight not to let out an impassioned sigh that might wake others in the household. Soon, she was breathless with desire and twisted lasciviously as his mouth covered hers and he kissed her deeply.
It was enough to drive her mad into the beyond. She tore at his neckcloth, then sat up again to pull his shirt off so that she could rub her hands up and down his beautiful muscled chest.
A moment later he was on top of her, kissing, stroking her thighs with his warm hands and flicking his tongue over her swollen nipples. He still wore his trousers, and she suspected it would take a great deal of convincing to get him to take them off. But oh, how her body yearned for more, tho
ugh more of what she had no idea. There was still so much she had yet to experience.
This was some kind of seventh heaven of rapture, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut and arched her back and tossed her head to the side on the pillow.
She kissed him deeply, tasting the flavor of her own feminine arousal and losing control of all her senses.
“Please, take these off,” she pleaded, tugging at his trousers. “I want to do everything with you. I want you to make love to me.”
Seger felt his defenses slip beneath the erotic force of her plea and the pounding ache in his loins. He could not seem to locate the discipline that had always been his unwavering armor. It was that very discipline that had protected him from ambitious debutantes or lonely wives of philandering husbands. He had managed to live a gratifying eight years without ever causing an unwanted pregnancy out of wedlock.
Yet here tonight, he was suddenly willing to risk it all. Consequences meant nothing. He wanted Clara with an overpowering need, but she was his future wife. Could he not relax just this once? Could they not begin their journey now? Why wait for the marriage papers? That was just a formality. Even if he got her with child, they could simply claim that the baby had come early. It happened all the time, didn’t it?
He was making excuses. He would say anything to justify making love to her now, with unfettered abandon.
Clara, delightful sexual creature that she was, began to tug at his trousers. He grabbed hold of her hand in an effort to stop her, knowing it was his last vestige of restraint.
“What are you doing, darling? That’s dangerous territory.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I want you. We’re engaged. Why not? I’ve heard it’s painful the first time. Why not get that over with now, so that I can enjoy our wedding night without any fears or anxieties?” She kissed his neck and chest and sent him spinning into a world of savage yearning. “I can feel it. Please, Seger….”
Falling for the Marquess (American Heiress Trilogy Book 2) Page 15
