by Jane Goodger
Though Maggie tried not to let it show, she was disappointed Lord Hollings hadn’t asked her to dance, though she understood why. No doubt her mother’s “announcement” was not well received. She was relieved when Amelia found her, just after one in the morning, and told her they were leaving.
Tonight, she would not let him escape her.
Chapter 27
When the four walked through the door, they were a subdued bunch, all lost in their own thoughts.
“Good evening, ladies,” Edward said, removing his coat and handing it off to a footman.
“If I could have a moment, Lord Hollings,” Maggie said. Everyone in the room stopped still for a moment, before the other two women continued up the stairs even though they were no doubt dying with curiosity.
“It is quite late, Miss Pierce. If you don’t mind…”
“I do. I need to talk to you about my engagement.”
“I don’t see why I need to know the details of your love life,” he said succinctly.
Maggie closed her eyes briefly. “Edward, please. This is very difficult for me.”
He gave her a mocking bow, then led her to his second-floor library, where a fire had been lit by servants who apparently knew well their lord’s habits. He walked to a side table as if to pour himself a brandy, then turned to her instead.
“Go on, Miss Pierce. I’m waiting with bated breath.”
“Could we please sit?” Maggie asked, nodding toward a small couch. She wasn’t certain her shaking knees could hold her much longer.
Edward hesitated a moment before walking over to the couch and sitting down. Maggie sat, perched on the edge, and clutched her hands together in her lap.
“I need to tell you some things.” She steepled shaking hands in front of her face, pressing the bridge of her nose, before forcing them back to her lap. She couldn’t look at Edward, was so afraid that he would never look at her the same again. If he did, if he looked at her with disgust, if he turned away, she wasn’t certain she could bear it.
“When you asked me to marry you, I could not. It wasn’t because I was in love with Sir William. And it certainly wasn’t because I didn’t love you.” Her throat closed and she swallowed. Edward let out a small sound, of anger, disbelief, pain, she wasn’t certain. But she forged ahead, letting out a small, shaky laugh. “This is so difficult. I knew it would be. I…I…”
“Good God, Miss Pierce, just say it.”
She finally looked at him. He looked angry and impatient and she almost lost her nerve then and there. “It is not easy for me to say what I have to say.” Her eyes filled with tears and her throat burned.
When he saw her tears, his expression softened slowly, almost reluctantly. “Go on,” he said softly.
“When my father was arrested, everyone told us he would likely be sentenced to five years. He was very much a pariah in New York. We lost all our friends. My brother lost his job. It was as if overnight we had become outcasts. That was bad enough. But one night I overheard him with my mother and he was crying, my father was crying, and he was telling my mother that he couldn’t bear five years. One, perhaps. But not five. It tore at my heart to hear him so.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie.”
She continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I thought I could help, you see. I went to his partner to see if anything could be done. If perhaps he had any influence or knew of a way to have the sentence reduced. He laughed, and told me I had no money, nothing to give him to convince him to help me. I was desperate to help my father. I would have done anything.” She let that last sentence hang there, gathering its sordid meaning.
“You don’t have to tell me this,” Edward said harshly, but with an underlying kindness that gave Maggie courage.
“I do. I do, because you have to understand why a woman so desperately in love would say no to a marriage proposal from the only man she has ever loved.”
Edward shook his head, as if trying to deflect the words that battered him.
“That man, he agreed with the bargain and so I let him,” she said, nearly whispering as tears spilled over. “And then when my father was sentenced, it was for five years. Five.”
“Oh, God, Maggie.”
“And then Arthur broke it off and we came here. I was so ashamed and I loved you so much, but I wasn’t the girl I’d been in Newport. I knew that even if you did not. Then you said you loved me and wanted to marry me and…”
Edward closed his eyes. “And I told you I was so glad to be your first.” When he opened his eyes, they were filled with a profound remorse.
She nodded, so overwhelmed she could hardly speak. “I couldn’t tell you. I was afraid if I did, you wouldn’t love me anymore.”
Edward smiled. “You do know how foolish that is, don’t you? God knows I’ve tried to stop loving you. I hardly think this will work.”
Maggie let out a watery laugh. “I so wanted you to be the first. The only.”
His eyes became suspiciously wet. “You will be, Maggie-mine. That other hardly counts, does it.”
“I don’t want it to. It wasn’t very pleasant. Not like with you, when you…” She blushed. “Lord Hollings, will you marry me?”
He let out a laugh, and looked at her as if she’d gone quite mad. “Marry you?” he asked, sounding incredulous, and Maggie’s heart sank like a stone. “My God, Maggie, of course I’ll marry you.”
She threw herself into his arms, but he pushed her gently away.
“I must say, it’s quite improper and rather unmanning for you to have proposed to me. I’m afraid, just for that reason, I must insist we do this properly.”
Maggie, suppressing a smile in an attempt to be serious, nodded enthusiastically. Edward leaped up, looking excited and boyish, his blue eyes sparkling with something almost mischievous. “Stay here,” he said, and ran from the room, leaving Maggie alone with only her grin.
She could hear him bounding up the stairs, most likely taking them two at a time. He was back in less than two minutes and came directly to her, getting down on one knee. Then with a dramatic flourish, he pulled out a spectacular diamond and ruby ring.
“Margaret Pierce, will you make me the happiest of men for the rest of my life?”
For once, Maggie was speechless. She simply nodded her head and threw herself into his arms, crying happy tears.
“I’m quite lost without you, you know,” he said.
“I know,” she said on a watery laugh. “I could tell. You are not very good at hiding your feelings.”
Edward drew her to him and kissed her, deepening that kiss until she was melting against him. Kissing him, holding him, was so right, so good.
“And you are too good at hiding your feelings. I had no idea how much you were suffering. You must have been working very hard at that. I have to blame it on the fact that I was out of my mind in love with you and you didn’t seem to care a bit for me. You are never to do that again,” he admonished.
“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” Maggie said. “There’s only one more thing I need for you to do. And this is perhaps the most difficult thing for me to say.”
His brows furrowed in concern. “Anything.”
She pressed her lips together. “Make me forget. Make me forget everything but you and me and this.” She leaned over and kissed him softly, then pulled away to look into his eyes silently telling him what she wanted, needed.
“You mean, now?”
Maggie blushed and giggled. “If you don’t mind.”
“If I don’t mind, she says. My God, Maggie, I’ve dreamed of making love to you from the moment I saw you in Newport.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. Truly.”
“Then if you don’t mind.”
He let out a laugh. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind getting married as soon as possible and be damned the gossip. Unless you want to wait until your father is released?”
Maggie shook her head slowly. “He’ll understand. I�
�ve already told him all about you.” She tilted her head, smiling. “My room or yours?”
“Maggie,” he said, pulling her in for a quick kiss, “you are too good to be true.”
They agreed to meet in his room in twenty minutes. Maggie silently entered her room, and once a sleepy maid helped her remove her dress, she dismissed her, her nerves jangled and raw. Suddenly, everything she touched seemed impossibly sensual. Her cotton gown, which she’d worn a hundred times, brushed against her nipples, which had become incredibly sensitive. She brushed her curling black hair, her eyes gazing at her reflection, and she smiled in happy anticipation.
She was going to make love this night and it would be for the first time. That thing she’d done with Barnes was simple mating, and was somehow so distant from the woman she was now, it seemed like a different person altogether.
When twenty minutes had passed, she tiptoed down the hall, past the library, to Edward’s suite, which she had never laid eyes on, never mind entered. The door had been left open a crack, and instead of knocking, she simply pushed it open, feeling a welcoming cool breeze from the opened French doors at the other end of the room. She closed the door and looked about the room, lit only by a single gas sconce. The room appeared empty, but Maggie heard what sounded like running water from behind a door. She stood at the entrance, uncertain what to do, whether she should wait for him to finish whatever he was doing, or climb upon his bed. For an instant, she had the particularly naughty idea of removing her cotton nightgown.
It was rather warm and humid, this night. That breeze would feel far better caressing her naked skin. Maggie smiled, wondering what his reaction would be if he came out of his bathing room to find her naked on his bed, wearing nothing but a smile. It was quite a singular way to make this planned event a bit spontaneous, and she bit her lower lip trying to garner the courage to do something so completely outrageous. The old Maggie would have done it, she realized, feeling a surge of bravery.
Quickly, before she could change her mind, she pulled the nightgown over her head and made a beeline for his bed, lying down on her back. No. This would never do. She felt far too exposed. Then she lay on her stomach with only her backside exposed, facing the bathing room, her knees bent and her feet in the air and crossed, as if she were doing nothing more risqué than reading a book. Somehow it seemed more proper and less bare. Propping her chin on her hands, she waited for him to come out.
Edward put his hand in the water to test it and smiled. It was perfect. She would be here any moment, and he wanted this bath to be a surprise. Wiping his hands on a soft Turkish towel, he walked out of his bathing room and stopped dead.
There before his eyes was a vision he would never forget. Maggie lay naked on his bed, smiling up at him, her hair a frothy black tangle around her head and down her back. Her very smooth, silky, lovely naked back. The soft gaslight seemed to make her skin glow, and it was all he could do not to rush to her and hold her against him. He was instantly and painfully hard. The wind was literally knocked from his lungs and he nearly sank to his knees and thanked God for this gift.
“Hello,” said the little imp on his bed.
“Hello.” Barefoot, he padded over to the foot of the bed where she lay waiting for him, and knelt down so their heads were even. Then he kissed her, letting out a groan of love and need, placing his hands on either side of her head to deepen the kiss. She let out a sound of pleasure that drove him mad, and he thrust his tongue against hers, moving in an erotic rhythm. After several long, drugging moments, he pulled back. “I have a surprise for you.”
She smiled. “I adore surprises.”
He stood, holding out his hand, and for a moment he thought she would be too shy to take it and stand. But she did, a playful smile on her face, as if she knew perfectly well he knew she was only pretending to be so bold. He led her into his secret place, his one real indulgence. A bathing room so elegant and sinful he’d almost felt guilty when he ordered it built. It was a room filled with marble and gilt, warm fluffy towels, soft gas lighting, with fingers of steam coming from a bathtub large enough to hold five people, though it had only ever held one.
“This is my secret lair,” he said, a bit sheepish.
Maggie stared open mouthed and he could tell she’d never seen anything like it in her life. It was a room made for sin and decadence. One almost expected nymphs to come dancing into the room holding out plump, juicy grapes to nibble on. With a little squeal, she let go of his hand and ran for the huge tub, a glorious sight of happy naked female. Amused and delighted, he followed in her wake and was somehow not surprised that she not only climbed right in without testing the water, but sank in past her head, letting out bubbles like a child.
Slowly she raised her head out of the surface, her face shiny and wet, laughing as her hair tangled about her like an exotic mermaid. “This is wonderful,” she said, moving her hands through the water and obscuring her naked form beneath the surface. She suddenly, unexpectedly, got shy as if realizing for the first time she was naked in a tub with a man standing over her. She put her hands over her breasts and bit her lip.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, drawing her hands away. He shook his head in wonder looking down at her, knowing without a doubt he was the luckiest man on earth. How many times had he fantasized about such a moment, tortured himself with visions of Maggie looking up at him like this? And now she was here, in this room, wet and warm and smiling shyly up at him. “Tell me this is not a dream, Maggie.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Edward. I cannot. This is a dream. A wonderful, magical dream where anything can happen. Anything good.”
He nearly wept right then, for gratitude, for love, for just having her finally, finally, with him.
“Will you be…” She pressed her lips together in that way of hers, exposing her charming uncertainty. “…joining me?”
“I think I shall.” He made short work of his clothes, and stood before her, smiling when she averted her eyes from him, a shyness that tugged at his heart. He let her be shy. For now. “Here I come,” he said, and climbed into the tub on the opposite side. He touched one of her feet with his knee and she pulled it away, then slowly brought it back. Then, moving deliberately, he went to her, and without laying a hand on her, kissed her gently, savored her softness, the small sounds she made when she liked what he did to her. He sat next to her, and then, in one fluid moment, pulled her onto his lap and laughed aloud at her expression. She might not have been a virgin, but she was exceedingly innocent nonetheless.
“You can feel me,” he said, his hands on her waist, and she nodded. His erection lay between the heat of her legs, throbbing and hard beyond anything he’d ever felt. “I sure as hell can feel you. My God, Maggie, you are the most beautiful woman. Look at you.” He raised his hands and laid them on her breasts, wet and round, uplifted and glowing softly in the light. He swallowed hard, then brought his mouth to one nipple, letting out a groan of pure need. She gasped when he tugged and suckled, and let out a small sound when he flicked her with his tongue.
“That feels delightful,” she whispered.
He moved to the other breast, and she put her hand behind his head, guiding him, pushing him against her. And then, as he loved her, she began moving against him in the subtle rhythm that began to drive him quite mad. He had to stop himself from lifting her up and driving hard into her, for more than anything he wanted this to be good for her.
He moved back to her mouth, ravished her with a kiss, which she returned. Their skin, slippery with water and the scented oils he’d placed in the tub, made every nerve ending in his body feel electrified. Her hands moved restlessly on his shoulders, his neck, his chest. Every touch sent shards of pure pleasure down his body and he knew he would not be able to take much more.
Maggie was lost in a world where nothing existed but exquisite sensation. Never in all her imaginings did she think of how wonderful a man’s naked wet body would feel against hers. His erection press
ed against her, his hands touched her everywhere, his mouth moved on her hot skin, and she could only squirm and try to relieve the building pressure between her legs. He was beautiful, like a perfect statue come to life, turned into warm flesh. She wanted to touch him, taste him, take him into her. It became an urge and a strange undeniable need, to mate, to have him become part of her. Any shyness she’d felt had disappeared the moment she’d felt his mouth on her nipple suckling her, driving that wonderful feeling growing between her legs. She needed to do something, anything, to make it go away or make it better, she didn’t know which.
When he reached down between her legs, she pushed against him, her relief nearly profound. “Yes,” she whispered. He moved his thumb against her, back and forth, until she was moving with him, until she was letting out little sounds of pleasure with every stroke.
“Maggie?” It was a question, a plea.
“Yes.”
He moved her up and she clung to him, kissed his neck, felt his strong hands on her hips as he guided her down, opened her, filled her the way her body was craving. Her breath came out in short bursts, and he let out one long groan.
“Oh, God, Maggie.”
He brought his mouth to her breasts and laved her nipples, and he brought his hand between her legs. She let out a small mewling sound and began moving against him, until she could feel his arousal moving in and out of her in a rhythm so erotic she nearly cried out with the joy of it. That wonderful sensation was happening again, something wonderful, building, building, until she was moving against him, not caring about anything but the way he was making her feel. She was mindless of her cries and to the warm water sloshing around them, until finally, oh, God, finally, it hit her with such a delicious intense wave of pleasure, she thought she might die of it. She cried out, pressing herself against him, against his hand, and he thrust over and over until he pulled her to him and let out a deep cry of satisfaction.
