With Good Grace (Victorian Vigilantes Book 3)

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With Good Grace (Victorian Vigilantes Book 3) Page 15

by Wendy Soliman


  Chapter Eleven

  Olivia’s floral perfume lingered in her wake as Jake closed the door behind her, resumed his seat and reclaimed his half empty glass. He drained the remnants of his brandy in one swallow and let forth a string of oaths, cursing his obsession with Olivia; an obsession that prevented him from thinking with his usual detached clarity. He had fully intended to behave himself that evening, even though he had not been looking forward to the uncomfortable consequences that were bound to result from that particular challenge. Resisting his scorching attraction towards Olivia was nigh on impossible at the best of times. The moment he observed the pain that flitted through her eyes when he revealed the extent of her husband’s duplicity, despite the fact that she had never loved him and claimed not to care what he did, he knew it was a battle he was destined to lose.

  ‘Fool!’ he muttered.

  ‘If you say so.’

  Jake had not heard Parker enter the room and sent him a castigating look. ‘I won’t need you again tonight, Parker,’ he said. ‘You can go to bed.’

  Parker chuckled. ‘As your lordship wishes,’ he said, managing to imbue the simple words with a variety of meaning.

  Jake expelled a weary sigh. ‘I really must get around to dismissing you for your impudence one day.’

  ‘You’d be lost without me.’ Parker damped down the fire and replaced the guard, seemingly unmoved by the prospect of imminent unemployment. ‘And we both know it.’

  It was true, of course. Parker had proved his loyalty innumerable times, and was Jake’s most trusted confidante. Even so, Jake sometimes felt duty bound to remind Parker who was master; much good it did him.

  ‘Goodnight, Parker,’ Jake said, fighting a smile as he left the room.

  Jake was well able to manage without Parker’s services as a valet, and did so that evening because he needed a moment to contemplate the wisdom—or folly—of what he was about to do. Olivia might think he required her as a mistress, but nothing could be further from the truth. He wanted Olivia as his countess, but as always when he contemplated that possibility, fears for her safety waged a full-scale battle with his personal desires.

  ‘Don’t overthink it,’ he said aloud. He stripped down to his shirt and trousers and washed in the modern bathroom he’d had added to the master suite some years previously.

  Jake waited another fifteen minutes, until he was absolutely sure that the household had settled down for the night. He grimaced as he pictured himself, slipping from his room and creeping along the corridor like a trespasser in his own house for fear of giving offence. And, of course, to protect Olivia’s reputation, he reminded himself.

  He reached her room, conveniently situated a few doors down from his, and knocked twice. A melodic voice bade him enter. He did so and found Olivia in her nightgown, seated beside the fire, her hair cascading like a dark cloud around her face, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. The sight of her in all her devastating beauty caused his mouth to go dry and for Jake to feel momentarily unsure of himself.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, sending him a mischievous look that told him she knew exactly what effect she had on him; the vixen!

  Jake closed the door and fixed her with a provocative smile that heated the air between them.

  ‘Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you actually are,’ he said softly, watching in fascination as the flames from the fire cast her delicate profile in light and shadow, making her appear mythical and unattainable.

  ‘I cannot take any credit if nature chose to smile upon me, but thank you for the compliment nonetheless.’

  Jake still leaned against the door, content to watch her indefinitely. Equally anxious to possess her; to indelibly mark her as his. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this, Olivia?’ he asked. ‘I feel as though I am taking advantage of you.’

  Her smile was imbued with a wealth of confidence that he had not anticipated. ‘Stop pretending that you have a choice, Lord Torbay,’ she said in a sultry voice, ‘or I might think that you do not desire me.’

  ‘I don’t have a choice,’ he replied, with an anguished sigh. ‘You are right about that, and it’s all your fault. You hold me captive, my sweet. I am intoxicated by your beauty, your courage, every vestige of your person. Even so, it is not safe to—’

  ‘Shush!’

  She placed a finger to her soft, enticing lips as though she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Since he had forgotten what was so important that he simply had to say it, her actions hardly signified. He took a step towards her instead and pulled her to her feet, directly into his arms, where she belonged.

  ‘This is your last chance to change your mind,’ he told her in a soft drawl as his arms closed possessively around her. ‘I am not made of stone, you know.’

  ‘I am very glad to hear you say so,’ she replied as she wrapped her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed her hips against his. ‘Although I sense that a part of you is.’ She gave a throaty chuckle as Jake smothered an oath, swept her from the floor and carried her to the bed.

  A long time later they lay together, temporarily satiated, he with a protective arm around her shoulders, she with her head resting on his chest. Her fingers idly danced across his torso, tangling with the wiry hairs that adorned it and tugging gently at them. He glanced down at her face, at her beautiful mouth, her lips swollen from his kisses, and did not need to ask if she was all right. She had given herself to him without inhibition, allowing her instincts to guide her, and Jake sensed she was not yet ready to part with him. Since she was still a little unsure of herself, Jake decided it would be ungentlemanly to leave her so soon after possessing her. But then, when it came to finding excuses to linger in Olivia’s addictive company, his inventiveness knew no bounds.

  Jake rolled over, braced his weight on his arms, and smiled into her eyes. ‘Are you tired?’ he asked.

  ‘No, but I am fearful hungry,’ she replied, a sparkle of awareness filling her eyes.

  ‘You hardly ate any dinner. Those damned stays have a lot to answer for.’

  She lifted a hand and brushed the hair from his eyes. ‘It is not food that I crave.’ Her eyes glistened with sensual disobedience. ‘I have a different kind of hunger that requires satiating.’

  Jake laughed. ‘I have created a shameless wanton.’

  ‘You only have yourself to blame for that.’ Her soft sigh touched his face as gently as a butterfly’s wing. ‘You are far too good at what you do; at what you make me feel. I might as well make use of you whilst I am here.’

  Jake rubbed his nose against hers and growled. ‘Make use of me, you say.’

  He tickled her until she screamed with laugher and begged for mercy. He adored the musical sound of her laughter, of the passion that fuelled her expression, of the manner in which she gave herself to him without embarrassment or hesitation. He adored every little detail about her, making him doubly aware that the conflict between duty and his own pleasure was slowly killing him. He kissed her again and, more slowly this time, took them both to the brink of implosion, only to hold back because he loved the way she lost patience and entreated him to finish what he had started.

  ‘I shall have to teach you some restraint, my sweet,’ he said, regretting the words the moment they passed his lips. He should concentrate on the here and now and not spoil the moment by making any reference to their uncertain future.

  ‘You have already taught me so much about my body’s needs; about desire. It is all so new. A revelation.’ Her sincere expression conveyed a wealth of passion. ‘So much decadent pleasure it seems almost…well, indecent.’

  ‘Never apologise for your passionate nature, Olivia. The pleasure you feel is natural and right; as God intended.’

  ‘And yet I have never felt anything even remotely like it before. I never would have believed…’

  Jake didn’t want her making comparisons to Marcus, the only other man she had known, and so distracted her by
giving in to her impatience. She responded to his demands with indecent haste and, watching her, Jake could gauge the precise moment when, eyes muddied with passion, she was gripped by a heady onslaught of pleasure. He would have gauged it even if her eyes did not then widen with shock, and even if she had not cried out as she closed herself around him and thrust her hips upwards in her impatience to find release.

  He waited, somehow managing to hold back, until he was sure she had taken everything she needed from him. Then, with a guttural moan, he started to move again and unleased a starburst of pleasure as he followed her into sweet oblivion.

  ‘Oh my love!’ he sighed, breathing heavily as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her lips.

  How inadequate the words sounded, he thought. But how could he possibly explain to his complex, intelligent yet sexually inexperienced beloved just what she had done for him? Intimate romps were nothing out of the ordinary for him but Olivia’s sweetly provocative innocence, her uninhibited enthusiasm, reminded him just how jaded he had become over the years. He, who considered himself to be a proficient and experienced lover, had just been taught a precious lesson. Olivia did not embrace passivity in this aspect of her life any more than she did in other areas of it. She had again allowed instinct to guide her as Jake introduced her to new pleasures and was not afraid to follow where he led; to experiment.

  When Jake’s heartrate returned to something approximating normal, he glanced down at Olivia and saw that the unaccustomed activity had finally exhausted her. Her eyes fluttered to a close almost immediately Jake withdrew from her and rolled onto his side, pulling her close so that she again used his chest as a pillow.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, so primly that Jake was obliged to stifle a laugh. This was all new to her. She was not yet ready to be laughed at.

  He watched her as her breathing became slow and even and she fell asleep almost immediately; beautiful even in repose with her glorious hair spread all over his chest and a half smile gracing her lips. He knew at that moment what he wanted, what he had always wanted since first making her acquaintance in that grimy prison cell, but had been too afraid to admit to it. But now, everything had changed. He would somehow find a way to achieve it, since walking away from Olivia, risking another man taking what he already considered to be his, was quite simply out of the question.

  Thus resolved he allowed himself a few more minutes in her bed and then reluctantly threw the covers aside, dislodging her head without wake her. She mumbled something incoherent and curled up on her left side. Jake smiled at her nakedness, wondering if he should wake her and redress her in her nightgown so as not to shock her maid too severely. Then he thought of the prim attitude of the maid in question and decided against it.

  Chuckling, he collected his own scattered garments from the floor, stepped into his trousers and turned one last time towards the bed. He bent and gently kissed Olivia on the brow.

  ‘Sleep well, my sweet,’ he muttered, walking on tiptoe towards the door and reluctantly leaving the room.

  ҉

  Molly pulled the curtains aside with unnecessary force, waking Olivia from a delightful dream in which Jake was doing all sorts of exquisite things to her. They were so real that she could even feel pleasant soreness in certain strategic parts of her body. Her lips felt swollen too and her breasts were sore. She touched them beneath the covers and her eyes flew open when she realised she was naked. It was not a dream! She opened one eye and saw that Molly had draped her discarded nightgown, the one that Jake had stripped slowly and provocatively from her body the night before, across the chair beside her bed.

  Molly’s back was turned as she tidied something on the other side of the room so Olivia sat up and took the opportunity to pull the gown over her head. Olivia knew that Molly was most likely watching her in the mirror, and disapproving of what she saw. Let her! Nothing could spoil Olivia’s mood today. Defiantly, she left the indent in the pillow beside hers; an indent that precisely mirrored the shape of Jake’s head. She left the few dark hairs that remained there too and cared nothing for the other evidence of their exploits that would be apparent on the linen when Molly tidied her bed.

  ‘Good morning, madam,’ Molly said stiffly, turning to face her.

  ‘Good morning, Molly. How was the meeting?’

  ‘Very uplifting, thank you.’

  ‘Is it raining still?’

  ‘No, madam. The skies are clear. It’s set to be a fine day.’

  ‘I am relieved. Tom will be able to sail his boat at last and perhaps he will then stop talking about it constantly.’

  ‘Are you ready for your breakfast?’

  ‘Yes, please bring it up. I am sharp set this morning.’

  Olivia expected Molly to make some remark, or at the very least find some way to express her disapproval. She did neither, simply leaving the room to follow Olivia’s instructions. Perhaps she had learned the wisdom of holding her tongue, Olivia thought, as she padded into the bathroom that adjoined her chamber and attended to her ablutions.

  When Molly returned, Olivia was wearing a robe over her nightgown, had brushed the worst of the tangles out of her hair herself, and was seated beside the fire. Molly pulled up a small table and placed a tray upon it. Olivia’s noise was assailed by the tantalising aroma of bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs. Molly poured coffee for her and asked if she needed anything else.

  ‘No, Molly. Leave me for half an hour.’

  ‘As you wish, madam.’

  Olivia did wish. She wanted to enjoy her breakfast and relive her subliminal activities of the previous night with Jake without her sour-faced maid spoiling the moment with her silent disapproval.

  Molly returned at the appointed time and had just fastened Olivia’s morning gown for her when Jane tapped at the door and put her face around it.

  ‘What is it, Jane?’ Olivia asked, alarmed. ‘You look as white as a sheet. Has Tom had an accident?’

  ‘No, madam. He’s fine. It’s my mother. I just received word that she has taken a turn for the worse.’

  ‘I am so sorry. You must go to her at once. Of course you must. Find Mr Parker and tell him to have one of his lordship’s carriages take you.’

  ‘What about Tom, madam?’

  ‘Molly can look after him.’

  ‘Certainly, madam,’ Molly said, further demonstrating her cooperative mood today. ‘I shall take him to the park.’

  Olivia dismissed both maids, having told Jane to take all the time she needed and to let Olivia know if there was anything she could do to help. Alone in her room, she took a moment to check her reflection and compose herself and was then as ready as she would ever be to face Jake. God forbid that he should regret what had passed between them. Olivia had pretended that she could treat it as a casual encounter but, in reality, nothing was further from the truth. Every time he taught her a little more about passion, she fell more deeply in love with him. It was as simple and unequivocal as that.

  She found Jake in his library. He looked up when she entered. His eyes came alight as he smiled at her and stood to give her a kiss.

  ‘How are you today?’ he asked. ‘I expected you to sleep longer, given…well, the amount of energy you expended.’

  Olivia’s face warmed. ‘I could not have done so even if I wished to. I had a domestic crisis.’ Jake raised a brow in polite enquiry. Olivia explained about Jane. ‘I told her to find Parker and have him arrange for one of your people to drive her. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course I do not. I hope her mother will recover.’

  ‘I have told Molly to take Tom to the park. It will get her out of my hair for a while.’

  ‘Is she being difficult? She cannot have failed to notice what we…er…’

  ‘Oh, she noticed right enough but made no comment.’

  ‘Which is as well for her. You cannot have maids influencing your behaviour; not if they value their positions.’ He dropped his voice to a seductive drawl. ‘The privilege of i
nfluencing what you do belongs to me alone.’

  Olivia was saved the trouble of deciding how to respond to such an enigmatic statement when Parker entered the room.

  ‘I’ve had someone drive Jane in the gig,’ he said. ‘She’ll get there faster in a small conveyance.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Olivia smiled at Jake’s faithful retainer.

  ‘A telegram just came for you,’ Parker said to her.

  Olivia glanced at Jake as she took the missive from the salver that Parker proffered. ‘It’s from Margaret,’ she said, breaking the seal. ‘She says the Gainsborough and two other paintings that have been in the family for a long time went to Sotheby’s in Bond Street four weeks ago.’ Olivia passed the telegram to Jake. Parker read it over his shoulder. ‘As you can see, she says that they have not been sold.’

  ‘As far as she knows.’ Jake tapped the telegram against his lips. ‘The Gainsborough will fetch a pretty penny. Sir Hubert would be a fool not to put it up for auction. I have heard of the other two artists but their work will not fetch nearly as much. No, that Gainsborough could make or break Sir Hubert.’ He smiled at Olivia. ‘Come along, Parker, we are for Bond Street.’

  ‘Thought you might say that,’ Parker replied.

  ‘I suppose you are thinking that if they have sold, Hubert has simply absconded with the proceeds,’ Olivia said. ‘But I think you are mistaken. He is far too aware of his position as a baronet to walk away from it all and leave Margaret with his debts.’

  ‘It rather depends upon how pressing those debts are, and how large, especially if they are debts of honour that cannot be ignored,’ Jake replied. He leaned over Olivia and kissed her brow, mindless of Parker’s presence. ‘Stay here. We shall not be long. If Tom is for the park you will be able to relax for an hour or two.’

 

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