by Amelia Grey
Millicent cleared her throat and fingered the fabric again. “Nonsense,” she said, but asked, “How did you get in without them seeing you?”
“I went to the back alley and slipped in from the rear door.” He looked around the bolts of cloth. “I don’t think there is anyone else in here right now but you and I, your chaperone and the clerk.”
“Thank goodness. You could have been caught.”
“Yes.”
A shiver of excitement tingled through her. “And that means I would have been caught talking to you.”
“Yes.”
“Does that not worry you?”
He moved a little closer to her and lowered his voice even more as he said, “For you, yes. For me, some things are worth the risk, Miss Blair.”
Millicent picked up an edge of fabric and pretended to study it, when all she wanted to do was look into Lord Dunraven’s seductive blue eyes and tell him she was charmed and flattered that he went to so much trouble just to see her for the second time in two days.
Truly, he must have known how difficult he was for her to resist. His smile, his manner, and even his bad reputation perplexed her, worried her… and captivated her. But she could never let him know that seeing him today was worth the risk of being caught talking to him in private.
She took a deep, languid breath. But what was she going to do? His pursuing her would make her more visible and jeopardize her work for her aunt. Keeping that secret had to be uppermost in her mind. If Millicent were caught, her aunt might somehow be revealed as Lord Truefitt, and she couldn’t risk ruining her aunt’s place in Society.
Perhaps she should confess to Aunt Beatrice or Viscountess Heathecoute and ask how she should handle this handsome gentleman rogue, for surely he was way too fast for her country upbringing.
With a fluid grace, Lord Dunraven reached over and took her gloved hand in his and gently pulled her to his chest, concealing her with him behind the bolts of fabric. Millicent gasped softly but didn’t pull away from him. How could she when she wanted to feel his arms around her again?
“Did that startle you?”
She looked up into his eyes, so close to hers she felt his breath when he spoke. “Yes.”
A wicked half grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “Was it a good startle?”
“Yes.”
Most definitely.
Oh, he was a cunning devil. How could she have lied to him and told him that it wasn’t? For surely it felt wonderful having his strong arms surround her and to be snuggled so close and so tightly in his arms.
Lord Dunraven’s grin turned to a pleasing smile. Millicent wasn’t afraid to be in his arms. She felt no danger. He was strong and her will was weak. She merely felt that she was where she wanted to be.
“Do you mind if I kiss you?” he asked.
Surprised, she said, “You didn’t ask yesterday.”
“Yesterday it would not have been difficult for me to escape had you screamed. Today would be a bit more of a problem.”
Millicent smiled. “So I could get rid of you merely by screaming?”
“Or just a loud cough would draw attention to you, Miss Blair. So what will it be?”
“A kiss,” she said without hesitating, knowing if she did, her sensible mind would win and she didn’t want it to.
Bending his head, he lightly brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was so gentle and brief if she tried hard she could believe it had never happened, yet her heart rate soared and a quickening tightened her abdomen.
She gazed into his eyes, fearing he would kiss her again and fearing he wouldn’t. Oh, what sweet torment!
She moistened her lips and said, “I’m glad to know that a rake can ask permission for a kiss.”
“I told you that I know how to behave as a gentleman—at times. I had a feeling you wouldn’t scream if I pulled you into my arms and kissed you, but I didn’t want to frighten you.”
“You don’t scare me, sir.”
“I know. So, may I kiss you again?”
“Please do.”
His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his chest. He lowered his head again and instinctively her lips parted, her mouth opened, allowing his tongue to slip inside and plunder her warmth. The kiss was long, generous, drugging. Short choppy breaths merged with long whispery sighs. Millicent had no idea which sound emerged from Lord Dunraven and which came from her own mouth.
When he broke the kiss, he remained holding her tightly. He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this since the first night I saw you in the corridor. Remember that night?”
“You blew me a kiss.”
“More proof I can be a gentleman at times.”
Without letting her go, he turned them around and carefully backed her up until she pressed against the fabric table.
“What are you going to do?”
“Kiss you madly.”
Millicent caught her bottom lip between her teeth and formed a protest that never came out.
“Don’t be alarmed,” he whispered softly. “I can see your maid through the stacks of cloth. I will keep watch. I won’t let her or anyone else catch us. If she heads this way, I’ll duck under the table.”
Millicent nodded as he bent his head toward hers again. She knew what she was allowing him to do was beyond the pale, but where he was concerned she discarded caution and reason. There was something decidedly rebellious, thrilling, and a little bit wicked about kissing him in the shop. She had no inclination to stop as she had no inhibitions when she was in his arms.
Her lips parted as his met hers once more. Millicent knew from the first touch that this would be no gentle, tender kiss, and her breathing quickened erratically with desire.
Lord Dunraven’s lips bruised hungrily over hers and she matched his furor. His arms wrapped tightly around her back, crushed her to him.
Instinctively she opened her mouth again and accepted his tongue and gave him hers. It pleased her when she heard him swallow soft gasps of pleasure with each probe of her tongue into his mouth.
“You taste so sweet,” he whispered against her lips.
“And you are a masterful kisser, sir,” she answered breathlessly.
His lips left hers and he kissed her cheek, her chin and her neck. “Do you like the way I make you feel?”
“Yes. I’ve never felt such intense pleasure with other kisses.”
“So you have been kissed before?”
“Of course. I’m almost one and twenty.”
“But you haven’t been thoroughly kissed, the way I kissed you just now?”
“That’s correct. All the kisses I’ve had up to now have been properly given on the cheek by gentlemen.”
“Proper gentlemen? And I am not?”
“You, sir, are not a good matrimonial candidate, and I should not have allowed you so much freedom.”
“But you did.”
“Your charm is very persuasive.”
“You have led me on a merry chase.”
“Not by design.”
“I think I like the fact that you have been brave enough to allow a kiss or two and discreet enough not to let any man take advantage of you.”
There was sudden laughter from the front of the shop and Millicent stiffened in his arms.
“It’s all right,” he whispered, looking past her through the small opening between the stacks of cloth. “Your maid is quite busy at the moment.”
Breathing hard, and needing to see for herself, Millicent leaned her head back and saw the two women opening jars and smelling the contents.
Millicent took a deep, relaxing breath.
“Keep your head back a moment,” he whispered. “That’s the perfect position for kissing your beautiful neck.”
“Necks are not beautiful, sir. They are skinny and bony.”
“Yours is lovely and it’s sensitive, too. That’s why I love to kiss it.” He showered her with more kisses.
“Yes
,” she whispered giving herself over to the pleasure.
Throwing caution to the wind, and her reputation out the window, Millicent did as he asked and allowed the earl the freedom he desired to explore her neck.
Softly he kissed the area behind her ear, and her skin pebbled with delicious goose bumps even though she had never felt hotter in her life. He kissed the lobe of her ear and gently, quickly sucked it into his mouth and out again a couple of times before leaving it to explore his way down the column of her neck to where the hollow of her throat met the stiff lace of her collar.
Shivers of delight threaded tighter and tighter through Millicent, wrapping her in the web he had set for her. She was amazed at how much enjoyment she received from his touch.
“I’ve never been kissed like this before,” she murmured softly.
“Good.” He kissed her lips, her chin, then the base of her throat again. “You shouldn’t let anyone kiss you like this—but me, of course.”
His lips found hers again and he kissed her passionately. He ran his hands up her back, over her shoulders, and down her arms. His hands never stopped moving as their mouths clung together.
Millicent couldn’t let her hands be still either. She ran her open palms over the width of his strong shoulders and her fingers up into the back of his hair. She loved the way his lips moved expertly across hers. She loved the taste of his tongue in her mouth. She was eager to enjoy everything she was experiencing, including the touch of the expensive fabric of his coat beneath her hand.
“I like that you enjoy how I kiss you,” he murmured softly.
“That pleases you?”
“Very much.”
“Me too.” Some kisses were soft and warm while others were fierce and passionate. Millicent had thought she had been kissed before, but she hadn’t. This was kissing! Weak legs included. If she hadn’t been propped against the table, she would have melted to her knees.
Lord Dunraven lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes as if searching for something. With one hand splayed against her back he pressed her to him. With his other hand he reached up and touched her ear, softly caressing the small lobe. Slowly his fingertips took the same path down her neck that his lips had followed earlier, only this time the journey didn’t stop at the lace collar. His hand continued down her chest until his open palm rested on the full swell of her breast.
Millicent was hardly breathing. She felt as though her insides were twisting into a wondrous knot of exciting sensations. No one had ever touched her breasts before, and it was thrilling. His hand slid beneath her breast and lifted it into his palm and he closed his fingers around it, squeezing gently yet firmly. The sensations that shot through her were wondrous.
Her lower body strained to get closer to him, and he answered her invitation by pressing harder against her. Millicent gasped again as she felt the hardness of his body.
For the first time in her life she knew what it was like to want a man to love her. The desirous sensations caused her to press her lips to his and slide her tongue deep into his mouth. He muffled his groan.
“I knew it,” he whispered passionately against her lips. “Your breast fits perfectly into my hand.”
It feels perfect.
He looked into her eyes. “If only I could remove your dress and look upon your beauty with the desire I feel for you at this moment. I would show you how a man loves a woman.”
As if considering the possibility, he glanced toward the front of the shop, where muffled talking could still be heard. He lowered his head to her chest for a moment, then lifted it again.
“But now is not the time and this is not the place. I want to kiss you again. I have good luck, but I’m not going to push it further today.”
Slowly he let her go and stepped away. Millicent felt bereft and out of breath. He helped her to straighten her collar, then ran his thumb across her lips and smiled.
“You look like you have been thoroughly kissed.”
Millicent touched her lips with her fingertips. “What should I do?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He reached up and lowered her hand from her mouth. “The redness will disappear quickly.”
She shook her head in worry. “I can’t believe I let you kiss me and… and… touch me so intimately here in this public place. I’m afraid I’ve shocked myself.”
As soon as the words were out, she would have done anything to take them back. He probably wanted to hear that she was upset with herself for submitting to his wishes so easily. Her heart was beating so fast and she was so light-headed with desire that nothing more sane would pass her lips.
He smiled. “Don’t worry about your reputation. You are safe with me.”
“After what just passed between us, that is an absurd remark, sir. I’m safe anywhere but in your presence where I seem to turn into a wanton—”
He cut off her words by placing his thumb lightly against her lips. “We shared some passionate kisses. That is all. No one but us will ever know.”
Of course he would say that. He would not want to be caught in such a compromising and unforgiving situation and be forced to marry her. He was a confirmed bachelor. No, it was best they forget this ever happened, and she must stay away from him at all cost.
“I understand.” She pulled on the neckline of her dress and moistened her lips. They tasted of Lord Dunraven, and her chest tightened, as she missed his embrace already. Oh, what had she done? What had she allowed him to do, to kiss her so intimately and to touch her in such forbidden places?
“What parties are you attending this evening?”
“We’ll be going to the Dovershafts and then to Almack’s. Why?”
He stepped away from her and said, “Because knowing where you will be means I don’t waste time looking for you this evening. Go back to the other side of the counter before your maid misses you.”
Just like that he was ready to be rid of her. How could she have gone so easily into his arms and allowed him to do whatever he wished?
“Clearly, Lord Dunraven, I had not met a rake until I met you. I should have nothing more to do with you.”
His gaze stayed on hers. “Perhaps you shouldn’t, but the question is, will you?”
Millicent closed her eyes and counted to three.
Angels above! She should be worried about much more than having been so thoroughly kissed. How had she fallen under his enchanting spell so quickly and completely?
She was what she never thought she would be—just like her mother. She was going to fall in love with the town scoundrel and be forced to leave London in shame as her mother had done years ago.
She would tell him he must not try to speak to her again. Yes, that is what she would do.
Feeling resolute, she opened her eyes to tell him, but he was gone.
Ten
“Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.” And find the Mad Ton Thief seems to be the outcry from London Society. Acknowledgment is given to Lord Dunraven. Because of his efforts, home soirées must now suffer the presence of ill-at-ease Runners. Why? one must ask, when many of the ton believe the thief is a ghost. One would think the earl would be too busy to bother with the thief, since Lady Lambsbeth is in Town for the rest of the Season.
—Lord Truefitt, Society’s Daily Column
“Blasted devils, all of them,” Chandler muttered to himself as he wadded the newspaper clipping Fines had just given him. He looked around the crowded room for a place to throw it but found nothing nearby.
Chandler stood just inside one of the arched alcoves in the ballroom at Almack’s. He’d been feeling quite good, looking forward to spending the evening in Miss Blair’s company until Fines appeared with a copy of the latest tittle-tattle. He shouldn’t have read it. He knew better. It always left him feeling angry and ruined his evening. Tonight was no exception.
It might be worth getting married just so the gossip-mongers would leave him alone.
“You have only yourself to bla
me, Dunraven,” Fines said in a high-handed tone.
“Why the hell do you think I would bring such misery on myself?”
“I tried to warn you last night that Lady Lambsbeth was in attendance.”
The orchestra played a tune that seemed to match the slow, strong beat of Chandler’s heart. The dance floor was filled with elaborately dressed ladies and expensively clad gentlemen twirling and sidestepping in unison. Chandler was thankful the windows in the large room were open. The gossip along with his tight collar and neckcloth was definitely making him hot.
He’d made an appearance at three different parties tonight, looking for anyone who might not fit in with the usual crowd. At last he’d realized what an ineffectual idea that had been. He was not going to nab the thief at one of the house parties. If that happened, it would have to be one of Doulton’s Runners who did it.
He searched the crowd once again for Miss Blair, as he’d done the entire hour he’d been in the ballroom. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He’d felt like an anxious schoolboy as he’d dressed tonight. He couldn’t wait to get here so he could see her, talk to her, dance with her. He wanted her back in his arms.
“Did you hear me, Dunraven?”
“Yes,” he said, but wasn’t sure he had. “I was just thinking that if I ever get my hands around the neck of Lord Truefitt, I’ll happily strangle him until he begs for mercy and swears he’ll never pick up another quill to put in ink!”
“All you and Andrew wanted to do was talk about some penniless girl from the country. What was her name—Miss Blondel?”
Chandler took umbrage at Fines for speaking of her in such an ill manner. “Miss Blair. And where did you hear that she was a penniless girl from the country?”
“I believe Andrew said as much last night when he alluded to the fact she was in Town only for the Season and hoping to make a comfortable match.”
“He doesn’t know as much about her as I do,” Chandler said contentiously. “You can tell by her clothing, her manner of speech, and the way she carries herself,” the way she feels in my arms, the sweetness of her kisses, “that she was not raised penniless.”
