* * *
Lyle stumbled across Darleston first. His lover sat in one of the window seats in the library, his legs folded and a book balanced upon his knee. ‘There’s trouble brewing,’ Lyle warned as he pulled over a chair so that he could perch by Darleston’s side.
‘Are Oxbury and Littleton already here?’ Darleston asked. He cast his book aside and inclined his head towards the mullioned glass. ‘I’ve been keeping half an eye upon the approach.’
Lyle’s brows crumpled. Was there trouble beside Amelia he didn’t know of? ‘You’re worried about them. Why so?’
Darleston gave him a weary smile. ‘I’m wary of anyone whose path I’ve crossed in recent months. Inevitably certain issues come up, and I’ve no wish to endure another round of accusations and slights upon my name. Besides, they are not really the sort I’d expect Hill to invite, not with Amelia present.’
‘Fortune hunters?’
Bright strands of coppery hair fell forward over Darleston’s face as he shook his head. ‘Far worse. Money isn’t an issue for either of them. Rather they’re a pair of rabid muff-mongers.’
Lyle tapped Darleston’s knee, then gave it a squeeze, as much for his own comfort as Darleston’s. ‘If I had any idea what you were talking about I’d be worried. However, it’s about Amelia I wanted to speak. She suspects you of conducting an affair with Emma.’
Darleston carefully lowered his feet to the floor. ‘She told you that?’
‘At breakfast. Caught me perfectly unaware.’ He never thought anyone would pay the slightest regard to the shenanigans between the three of them. His whereabouts and affairs generally passed unremarked upon, and Emma in her dowdy outfits blended into the wainscoting. Lyle hid his head in his palms, only looking up at Robert again after several seconds. ‘What do we do?’
‘Nothing.’ To his surprise, Darleston showed no sign of alarm. He slipped from the window seat and strode across the room to a bookcase, where he squeezed the book he’d been reading into a narrow gap. ‘I assume you told her it was nonsense.’
‘I did, but … but what if she finds out about –’
‘She won’t. You’re forgetting the initial purpose in having Emma involved. An affair – an affair conducted at a house party – is perfectly commonplace. Providing you stick by her there’s nothing to fear. Amelia’s a fool for drawing your attention to it. I can’t think what she hoped to achieve.’
Darleston might not, but he did. ‘Spite,’ Lyle enlightened him. The relationship between the two sisters had never been entirely comfortable. Yes, Emma called Amelia ‘dear heart’, but that fondness had never satisfied Amelia’s hunger for affection. The girl believed herself entitled to Emma’s affections as though her elder sister were her mother, not her sibling. ‘I expect she’s paying Emma back for allegedly thwarting her chances of gaining a husband.’
‘Hmm. Sibling rivalry, a joyous thing. Do you think she’s actually seen anything?’
Lyle tugged at his cuffs. He didn’t think there was anything Amelia could have observed. He and Darleston had been as discreet as circumstances allowed, and, as for Emma, she didn’t allow anyone to get near her, so what was there to observe? ‘I’m not sure anyone will believe it of Emma. They’ll know she’s hiding, covering something. I mean, how can she be conducting an affair? Anyone who knows her will realise how ridiculous the notion is. She abhors physical contact.’
‘She’s had her hand around my cock, or did you forget that bit?’
Darleston’s interjection failed to soothe away Lyle’s apprehension. He stared pensively at the other man, expecting … he wasn’t sure what. Either way, Darleston didn’t offer any more answers.
‘I didn’t forget it,’ Lyle said quietly. He wondered which of them, he, Darleston or Emma, had been the most shocked when Emma had complied with his instructions the previous night. It had certainly added unanticipated zest to the moment. However, none of that mattered right now. ‘That’s not something I’m about to announce. All I’m saying here is that if we’re going to mask our affair with one between you and Emma, then the possibility ought to be convincing. People need to observe that there’s a physical closeness between you and Emma that isn’t there between her and anyone else.’
Darleston thoughtfully tapped his fingertips to his lips. ‘I take your point. It is a dilemma.’ But it was one he didn’t seem remotely troubled by, particularly when his introspection gave way to a grin. ‘Are you granting me permission to touch her again? For you did revoke that right last night.’
‘You may do whatever you wish, and would no doubt have done so regardless of permissions.’
‘Hm.’ Darleston’s fingers curled around the chair wing. ‘Possibly, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to hear you say it. Lay things out straight for me.’
‘You’re a devil,’ Lyle muttered under his breath. Then he looked Darleston straight in the eye and added, ‘You have permission to tup my wife. Happy now?’
‘Delirious.’ The grin that Darleston already bore stretched wide across his narrow face.
Lyle nodded, but even as he did so Darleston’s gaze strayed back to the driveway of the house, diminishing Lyle’s faith in the plan.
* * *
Emma skipped breakfast. Her stomach churned at the mere notion of food. She had warned off Amelia, but knew her sister well enough to realise that the matter wasn’t done. Amelia for all her naivety could also be as wily as a cat. She loathed the fact that Emma possessed freedoms she didn’t, hated the fact that Emma remembered their mother’s embrace, while she had only Aunt Maude’s sparing affections to thrive upon.
Emma needed to act and quickly. Better that Amelia genuinely believed she and Darleston had formed some sort of attachment than the silly goose discovered the truth. Amelia wouldn’t consider the consequences of revealing the gentlemen’s love for one another. She’d think only of the attention and sympathy it would bring her way. Without question, Amelia simply couldn’t be allowed to delve into the truth of her relationship with either man.
To that end, Emma endeavoured to find Darleston at once. She would explain things discreetly and then act. It was only what she’d planned to do anyway to determine if her place in his affections were genuine or not. She didn’t want to linger on the fringes any more, observing him and Lyle. Rather she dreamed that every one of Darleston’s lewd etchings was made a reality. All she had to do was find some bottom, as the men would say. Only then would she know how Darleston truly felt.
Emma made a slow, laborious circuit of the house, hoping to happen upon Lord Darleston alone. Yet every step she took while failing to find him drove her a little closer to panic. She couldn’t do this, and she could. She had to, for all of them. Amelia mustn’t learn the truth. She mustn’t sacrifice herself and gain nothing. From the first moment she’d set eyes upon Darleston she’d known there was something different about him. No other person, living or dead, had ever made her want to reach out so ardently. It didn’t matter that she’d already touched him more intimately than any woman ought to touch a man to whom she wasn’t married. Kissing him would be different altogether. He’d react. He’d press back. The contact would no longer be one-directional. When she thought of how he’d look at her breasts, hold them, press his lips to them, then her resolve almost faltered. Yet while she shuffled from one foot to the other, afraid to press forward and unwilling to turn back, there remained a tingle of heat in her puss.
Deep down, Emma knew it wasn’t just kisses she wanted or needed from him. Darleston would make her whole, if only she’d let him.
By the time she turned the corner into the west frontage by her father’s study and found Darleston alone, her teeth were aching so much it proved impossible to gasp anything other than his name.
He’d dressed more simply today, in a russet coat and buff breeches, devoid of the frogging and lavish embellishments she usually associated with his clothes. Emma rushed to his side. She had to act immediately, before she had a ch
ance to overthink things or find an excuse to prevent her actions. ‘I … was looking for …’ She pressed a kiss to his dry lips.
He must have been shocked, for he didn’t fold his arms around her, nor kiss her back. Rather, he remained stiffly aloof. His palm closed around her elbow and he eased her gently away from his person.
Emma’s nose tingled with the threat of coming tears. She’d read everything wrong. Darleston’s pale-grey eyes shone with a glassy light. Nothing in his expression hinted at the slightest pleasure over her action. He pushed her backwards against the wall, holding her away from his body as his gaze raked her face.
One tear escaped, followed by another. They rolled down her cheeks and onto the front of her gown.
‘Hey.’ He wiped away the glistening beads and slowly his lips tweaked upwards at the corners. ‘That was an unexpected pleasure. Are you sure it was meant for me?’
What sort of nonsense question was that? Of course she’d intended it for … Dear God! His voice … his voice, it wasn’t at all the same. Emma stared at the man before her, marking other differences too, such as shorter hair, the extra ring of lilac fire around his irises and a nose that was not quite so straight or pointed as Darleston’s, but looked as though it might have been broken some years before. Most importantly of all, there was no recognition of her as somebody he knew, certainly not as a woman he’d lain still for and shared intimacies with.
‘Who are you, by the way?’ He leaned forward, cocking his head so that she thought he intended to return the kiss.
Emma squealed, causing him to step back and straighten up immediately. At that moment two other figures came hurtling around the corner.
‘Ned?’
‘Did somebody just scream?’ Mr Hill asked. ‘Is there a problem?’ He scratched at his mop of grey-white hair.
Darleston … her father! Emma shook free of Ned Darleston’s hold and fled away from all three men as fast as she could. She ran through the study and left the house by the French doors.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tears blinded her flight, but she didn’t stop running until she’d crossed the lawn and forced her way into the abandoned dovecote. There, in the inky shadows, away from the harsh sun and the censure of the men, she stopped and pressed her brow to the cold bricks.
What an absolute ninny she was. How ridiculous to put herself through all that mither only to kiss the wrong man. She even recalled Darleston telling her that he had a brother. Although he hadn’t stated that his brother was also his identical twin.
The dovecote door creaked open behind her. A slash of daylight penetrated the gloom, but only for a moment, before Darleston ducked low and entered. ‘You’re not the first to make that mistake. I probably ought to have warned you, only I hadn’t anticipated you kissing him.’
‘Your twin.’ She cast a swift glance at him over her shoulder before returning her gaze to the wall. Of all the imbecile things she could have done. She gave her lips a surreptitious rub with the back of her hand. ‘He told you, I suppose. So Father knows.’ Amelia’s interference wouldn’t make any difference now.
Darleston stole a little closer. ‘Neddy didn’t give you away. That was purely my guess based on your reaction. I’m only sorry that my brother gained what I desired.’
‘You desire it.’ She turned and gawped at him with her back pressed tight to the wall. Her fingernails scraped at the spongy moss growing in the cracks between the stones.
‘Emma, you know I do. I wonder if, perhaps, you’ll find the nerve to do it again. What do you think are my chances – good, even … poor?’ The last word was delivered with a worried frown.
Why was it that the sensation of his lips pressing against her inner wrist and forearm permeated every word he spoke, even when he stood several feet away?
Emma hiccoughed. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve made a mess of everything. First Amelia saw me and made all manner of assumptions and now I’ve kissed your brother and Father is probably wondering what the devil is happening.’
‘Don’t worry. Neddy’s explaining. He told Hill that he’d come up behind you too quietly and startled you. I volunteered to check you were all right.’ He’d inched towards her as he spoke so that he stood as close to her now as he had in the amphitheatre. Only, unlike on that occasion, when he reached out to her Emma didn’t flee. She swallowed the lump in her throat and braced herself for the contact.
The pad of his thumb brushed her cheek, then spread the salty wetness of her tears over her lips, leaving them tingling. He kept looking at her mouth, looking and looking and looking until she tilted her head and her gaze began to follow a pattern of sliding back and forth between his grey eyes and his lips. Any moment he would lean forward and claim her. The mere notion threaded her veins with fire. This might be what she wanted but it didn’t in any way make it easy. ‘Kiss me,’ she said, straining upwards so that she was balanced on tiptoes. ‘Do it quickly.’ She closed her eyes to await that magical event.
‘Don’t you want to savour the moment a little longer?’
Emma’s eyes snapped open, only for him to lean forward and claim her in that instant. This was not at all like the impromptu kiss she’d given his brother. That had been rushed and – she realised it now – too forceful. This was softer, lighter. Each brush sent tremors of pleasure racing down her throat and through her breasts. It was something to savour and cry for. If there had not been a wall at her back she would have fallen. Her knees buckled when he drew back a fraction, but Darleston held her steady.
His clothing was soft beneath her fingertips, his warmth compelling. She didn’t want this moment to end. When he drew back, she boldly rekindled their kiss.
This second kiss was different from the first. He held back less, was more exploring, less tentative. Ever since that first time when she’d glimpsed him through the library window she’d wanted to rub up against him. The way he cradled her in his arms meant she could do just that, curling her hands around his lapels, while his tongue darted against hers. Back and forth, give and take, with more of his body pressing up against her as each moment passed, until she was completely trapped, sandwiched between the brickwork and his chest, with the hard ridge of his cock branding her hip.
‘Will you allow me to touch you again? As I did in the Dog Parlour?’
Darleston sucked in a hasty breath. ‘I was rather hoping for a more mutually satisfying arrangement.’ She leaned into his chest and her lips fluttered over the topmost button of his waistcoat. ‘Very well,’ he agreed, ‘but a little differently, I think.’ Then, slowly, he backed away from her, shrugging off his exquisite coat as he moved. He stopped when his back hit the opposite side of the circular dovecote, whereupon he dropped his coat and started upon the row of mother-of-pearl buttons on his waistcoat. Once that had come off, it was a simple matter to release his frontfall, unwind his cravat and pull his shirt over his head.
Of course she’d seen him naked before, but this was different. This time he’d undressed for her in broad daylight, although one might imagine it otherwise in the gloom of the tiny chamber. She would not have dared expose herself in such a way. Nakedness seemed trebly obscene at this early hour, with no bed anywhere about.
Emma gawped at him with her mouth hanging open. In many ways his body mimicked Lyle’s. They were both possessed of a lean, wiry frame, but Darleston was longer. Freckles covered much of his arms. He also possessed that curious raised mark upon the right side of his abdomen, stretching from just below his navel to a point just above his hip. In the excitement of last night it had passed unnoticed; now that imperfection seemed to call to her.
Slowly, she padded towards him, her arms partially outstretched. Closer to, she was not sure if the mark was a scar or a brand. Almost without thought she traced a finger over its silvery surface. ‘What happened?’
He shook his head and moved her hand from the mark to his chest. ‘I don’t want to discuss it.’
So he had his secrets too.
He might not wish it, but Emma couldn’t quite shake off her curiosity. It seemed there was almost a pattern to it, as though he’d been stamped. Darleston curled a finger and lifted her chin. ‘You claimed you wanted to touch me. Well, now I’m all yours. Anywhere you like, as hard or soft as you like. Use your mouth, your fingers, the tip of the feather you have in your hair …’ He hesitated a moment while he plucked a grey feather from her cascading locks, then blew it away. ‘On second thoughts, I’m rather ticklish.’
Ticklish. For a moment she pictured him writhing, laughing as he fought off her hands just as Bea … no, not Bea, but Eliza – who had died before Bea had even arrived in the world – had done.
Emma stiffened, then immediately forced her shoulders to relax. She refused to sink into the past. She wouldn’t let the ghosts isolate her any more. Darleston was her chance to live, and she was damn well going to take it.
She leaned into him once more, her nose pressed to his skin and her lips closed around the furled peak of one of his nipples. She sucked upon it while she let her hands rove across his body. He was not as smooth as he first appeared, for in several places grew patches of soft springy golden hair, the most prominent, she knew from past experience, being the one around the base of his cock. The moment she thought of it, she knew she wanted to touch him there. Her gaze wandered downwards, but she paused. Darleston nudged her in that direction. ‘Let’s not pretend you’re unfamiliar with it.’
Emma curled her fingers around the shaft. She had held him while he slid back and forth into her husband’s arse– how could she feign shyness now? She stroked upwards, cupped her palm over the vibrant tip and listened in delight as his sighs became mews and then moans.
All too soon his cock began to weep. Then she knew what she wanted. Without looking down, Emma sank to her knees. Darleston’s cock curved upright before her, pressing tight against his stomach. He groaned when she opened her mouth. ‘Holy saints, Emma.’ Groaned again as she did what she’d previously watched Lyle do.
Her Husband’s Lover Page 17
