She realized he was right, but she did nothing to correct the situation.
“It seems you are the one with improper thoughts,” he said in a low, velvety tone just before his lips seized hers. Their tongues tangled as their bodies shifted in an inexorable quest for contact and friction. Her hands ran the length of his broad back and swept through his soft wavy hair. She knew they had the rest of their lives for affection, but the moment was too blissful to relinquish. Just a moment or two more…
“Look at this mess. Someone must have forgotten to properly secure my luggage.” Madame Barnett seemed to be standing on the ceiling. Disoriented and mortified, Claudine forced herself to sit up and collect herself.
Leo was already on his feet. “We’ve had an accident.”
“I see that.” Madame Barnett looked out of the window. The wide brim of her straw hat shadowed her face, but Claudine could have sworn she saw the briefest glimmer of amusement on her face before she turned her head.
As Leo squatted to collect the spilled clothing covering the narrow carpeted floor, Claudine tried to fill the awkward silence with words. “We were wondering where you went.”
“I needed some exercise. This journey is wearying.” Madame Barnett spoke to her son’s broad back as he repacked. “This cottage of yours certainly is a distance away. Dreadfully inconvenient.”
Leo reached for a stray shoe and flung it into his suitcase. “I didn’t ask you to inconvenience yourself.”
“Do you want your marriage to be blighted by gossip? The sooner you start behaving like a respectable young couple, the better your chances of eventual acceptance by your neighbors and acquaintances. When is this wedding to take place?”
“We haven’t set a date yet,” Leo said.
“Well, I think you’d better do it at once. I won’t stand for any shilly-shallying upon your obligation to my best friend’s daughter.”
Leo stared at his mother, then turned to Claudine. “So very modern. Just like you said.”
This tension could not and should not continue. A candid conversation was overdue. “Leo, why don’t you leave the bags for a moment so I can speak with your mother.”
He closed the suitcase and pushed it aside before coming to his feet. “Good luck.”
* * *
A brougham, driver, and footman were waiting for them at the railway station, a welcome sight to the weary travellers. Their cases were quickly loaded, and they set off in a southerly direction, passing an astonishing assortment of mansions along Bellevue Avenue. After making a series of turns, they passed through open gates and headed down a long drive bordered by a wide expanse of manicured lawn and two rows of widely spaced beech trees. In the distance stood a gabled Tudor style mansion. Beyond that, the dark blue of the Atlantic blended into the paler blue of the sky.
Madame Barnett tilted her head to take in the full view. “By what stretch of the imagination is that a cottage?” Claudine feared she was about to launch into another lecture about wastefulness and decadence, but she said nothing more along those lines, adding only, “It’s a fine house.”
A crucial change had come about as a result of their conversation on the train. Now that Madame Barnett knew the reason for her son’s long disappearance and his reluctance to speak about it, she saw him in an entirely new light. The resentment and tension were gone.
Immediately after they were shown to their rooms, Claudine removed Alex’s bandages in order to examine his hand for signs of infection. The sight was so painful to behold she wasn’t certain she could continue, but she forced herself to clean the incisions and change the bandages. The process took longer than anticipated due to her meticulousness, but she managed to carry out each of the doctor’s instructions to the letter. Her hands felt raw from repeated cleansing to reduce the risk of infection.
Afterward, Alex looked pale and tense. A sheen of perspiration glistened upon his broad forehead. The surgery and the travel had exhausted him, and he was plainly suffering from the absence of the medicines he’d become so dependent upon. After taking the elixir Dr. Dixon had prescribed for pain relief, he wished to rest so she helped him into bed and drew the heavy damask curtains closed against the blinding sunlight.
“How did it look?” Leo asked when she returned to the airy blue and white drawing room downstairs.
“As well as one might hope for at this stage, I think.”
To take their mind from their worries, Leo gave them a tour of his home, which included a library, a music room, a conservatory, fourteen bedrooms, and a wide flagstone terrace offering an expansive view. The sunset glinted against the gentle waves of the bay. Cutters, catboats, and sloops glided in different directions while farther out to sea, a white steam yacht seemed to be heading nowhere.
Alex slept through dinner; they thought it best not to wake him. Afterward, they took their coffee out to the terrace and gazed at the starlit sky while the evening breeze cooled them. Claudine rested her head against Leo’s shoulder as they rocked slowly on the porch swing.
Madame Barnett, who had already expressed a deep dislike of furniture which moved, reclined upon a wicker chaise longue. “This would be a lovely place for a wedding.”
Though she was eager to be married to Leo, the idea of a wedding unsettled Claudine. Would her parents attend? What if they were angry with her for running away? She still couldn’t bring herself to explain why she’d left. Even if they did forgive her, they might not approve of her choice of a husband. Her wedding would be a sad affair indeed without her parents, Jacqueline, and Aunt Henriette to share in her happiness. “I wouldn’t know how to begin planning such an event.”
“It need not be elaborate,” Madame Barnett said. “We’ve held a few simple ceremonies at Ardaut House in the garden.”
Leo stroked the back of Claudine’s hand in the dark. “I envision something more elaborate than that. I’d like all my friends and business associates to meet my exquisite bride.”
“They need not meet her all at once,” his mother replied. “Grand weddings take planning and time, and you don’t have time. I suspect your conduct has been less than discreet thus far. You must begin to undo the damage. Who knows what that baron might do or say now that he’s been sent packing? He didn’t strike me as the sort to act the good loser. A certificate of marriage will take some of the bite out of the gossip.”
Now that the more pressing crises were under control, smaller concerns like gossip and reputation no longer seemed so inconsequential to Claudine. “Perhaps we should just go before a government official, have a quick civil ceremony. Can you do that here?”
“Your parents would never forgive you for getting married without them. I’ve already sent them a telegram. I imagine they’ll soon be on their way.”
Claudine was incredulous. “On their way? To Newport?”
“For the wedding.” There was an implied obviously in Madame Barnett’s tone.
“Ah,” Leo said. “And now we have come full circle. Do you by chance have any details in mind for this imminent event?”
“A few.”
“Would you be so kind as to help us with the planning?” he asked. Claudine could see his faint grin in the dim light.
“Well, I’d have rely upon my assistant to perform my duties at Ardaut House for longer than I’d planned, but I think I can manage to devote some time and thought to the occasion.”
“Excellent. Good to have that settled. Would you believe I haven’t been on the beach since I bought this place? Who’s inclined for a stroll?”
Madame Barnett came to her feet. “I’m inclined to sleep. That was a rather tiring discussion.”
They made no immediate effort to move once they were alone. Claudine was both bemused and awestruck. “Your mother is marvelous.”
“I know, but it’s best not to get in her way.”
She rested her chin upon his shoulder. “Duly noted. I’m more than happy to let her plan every last detail of the wedding. I’d rather focus upon A
lex. And you.”
Leo rocked the swing with his feet as they basked in each other’s warmth and listened to the waves crashing against the rocks.
She inhaled his scent and kissed his neck. “I love this place. Why don’t you come here more often?”
“Who says I don’t?”
“For one thing, you’ve never been to the beach. For another, you’ve never met your neighbors.”
“Perhaps I’m hopelessly antisocial.”
“Too busy working, I suspect. So you’ll be happy to hear we’ve been presented with an opportunity to rectify the situation. We met a woman in the dining car. Mrs. Horton. She’s a widow, and she was very taken with Alexandre, so taken that she spontaneously invited us to a party at her home this weekend. Very informal, she said.”
“Don’t believe that for a second. These things are never little affairs. I thought the whole point in coming here was rest and recuperation.”
“Too much time for contemplation is not good for him right now. He needs the company of other people to pull him away from his dark thoughts.”
“But you scarcely know these people. They might depress him all the more.”
“I don’t think so. The woman is obviously smitten, and Alex was in favor of the idea.”
“Ah. Now I see your true objective.”
“We could leave early if he isn’t faring well. What could be the harm? Mrs. Horton specifically mentioned an interest in meeting you, and I think it would be nice to know our neighbors here.”
“You wish to be in society?”
“I wish to have friendships, especially with those who seem open and kind. I like Mrs. Horton, and I’d like to know other people wherever we live. And I don’t think you’re at all antisocial. You feign indifference to the opinions of others to protect yourself from being hurt.”
He drew her closer and grinned. “You know me so well, do you? Could that be due your life-long infatuation with me?”
She pulled away. “I own to no such thing, and if you continue to make conceited remarks, you will find your bed cold until our wedding night.”
“Will I? His lips caressed her throat and found the exact place where her pulse beat the strongest. “This little spot leads me to believe otherwise… Come. It’s time for our stroll.” He knelt by her feet and began to unlace her kid boots.
“What are you doing?”
“You can’t walk on the beach in shoes. They’ll only fill with sand.” His hands slid up her calves and thighs to peel off her stockings. “You’ll see the beach feels better this way.”
She caught her breath as his fingers slid between silk and skin. “Not here,” she managed to say.
“Of course not. Do you take me for an utter barbarian?” He took off his own shoes, rolled up his trousers, and extended a hand to her. “Shall we?”
“Do you think I’m unaware of your intention to ravish me on the beach, monsieur?”
“Where do you get such wicked thoughts?”
She ran past him, down the stairs, and onto the sand, still hot from the sun. She couldn’t really see where she was going, and her feet came in contact with many disconcertingly unidentifiable textures: sharp, rough, and squishy.
“You can’t outrun me!” Leo called behind her.
With her arms open to the wind, she darted toward the sound of crashing waves. The heavy weight of her skirts impeded her progress. So did her laughter. Her feet sank into the damp sand, and she squealed from the shock of cold muck between her toes.
He reached for her, but she snaked away from his grasp, running along the shoreline. Her heart pounded as the frigid tide lapped over her feet and calves.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt herself seized and lifted from behind. She yelped in protest, kicking her legs as Leo hoisted her in the air and swung her in a circle, crowing, “I’ve got you now!”
They both laughed as he laid her down in the sand. Their amusement drifted away as he leaned over her and slowly traced the fullness of her lower lip with his forefinger. The effect was both ticklish and electric. When he played the same tantalizing game with the upper one, she captured his finger with her mouth and sucked fervently.
His hands caressed the sides of her face as his mouth captured hers. His tongue tasted of strong liquor and salt, and she couldn’t get enough. Suddenly aware of an insistent throbbing deep inside, she wrapped her legs around him and twined her hands in his hair. The seagulls’ caw, the dull roar of the ocean, and their rapid breathing filled her ears as he answered her need, filling her slowly as if savoring every second of their joining.
Then without warning he rolled so that he was beneath her but still inside her. Gently he pushed her shoulders back away from his chest until she was sitting astride him. With her knees cradling his muscular torso, she gasped from the exquisiteness of the hot, pulsating sensation deep within her. She gazed at him in wonder as she began to rock against him, very carefully. Each variation of movement thrilled her, emboldened her to explore new possibilities.
He groaned as she discovered a particularly good angle. A heady sense of power rushed through her, heightening her delight as the sea spray misted over them in a humid embrace. She leaned forward to kiss him softly while she worked her hips slowly up and down his shaft. His breath came fast, and his eyes were half-lidded as though he were intoxicated.
His hands cupped her breasts, swept down her rib cage and clamped upon her hips. He began to undulate beneath her. Everything he did felt glorious, and she arched backwards, giving herself up to him completely.
A stunning tremor gripped her. She cried out as her body contracted, clenching rhythmically until he groaned once again and flooded her with his warm seed. Completely limp, she fell forward and lay on his chest, shuddering as wave after wave of ecstasy rippled through her. “Why haven’t we done this before?” she said weakly.
He stroked her hair. “A mistake on my part. We can do it every night if you like.”
Her heart swelled with contentment, love, and wonder. That she should have everything she ever dreamed of seemed too much good fortune for one lifetime. “Yes, I believe I would.”
Chapter Twenty-One
By Saturday Alexandre was feeling much stronger, and Leo realized any attempts to back out of Mrs. Horton’s party would be futile. Her massive house on Bellevue Avenue resembled an eighteenth century French chateau except for its air of newness. The pale limestone gleamed in the sunlight as they passed beyond the scrolling iron gates.
In the circular drive two servants assisted them from their carriage. Another quickly led them up several sets of stairs to the colonnaded front terrace accented with sculpted shrubbery. Once inside, they passed through a vast marble entry hall to a ballroom with parquet floors, pendulous crystal chandeliers, and gilded cream boiserie.
The footman directed them through the middle set of three towering arched double doors, and they emerged onto another sweeping colonnaded terrace. This one overlooked an intricate parterre of boxwoods bordering lavender, blue, and yellow flowers. Chatting among a group of women, Mrs. Horton stood in the center of the parterre by an enormous bronze and marble fountain filled with lily pads. Her face lit up when Claudine waved to her. She tilted back her fringed silk sunshade, cornflower blue to match the embroidery upon her white batiste dress. “You’ve come at last,” she called. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten, and my friends would think me a liar.”
They approached the group from the stone staircase to the right, introductions were made, and many questions were asked of all three of them. Claudine was impressed by Leo’s forthright manner and charm. He only cast a few weary glances her way during the next ten or fifteen minutes.
Mrs. Horton wouldn’t have noticed. Her focus rarely left Alex. Finally, she took his good hand and said, “Come, let me show you off to the others.”
The other ladies soon wandered off, giving Claudine a much needed respite from nonstop conversation. She’d been looking forwar
d to the occasion, but now that it was here she felt unequal to the challenge of meeting so many people at once. She’d been so tired of late yet she felt healthy in every other respect.
Leo watched Mrs. Horton show Alex off to her friends like a fisherman displaying a prize catch. “She might be a bit much for him to handle right now. Why are controlling women always drawn to Alex?”
Claudine was happy to note the healthy glow upon her cousin’s face. Sleep had done wonders for him. “Her intentions are good. She’s just enthusiastic.” She noticed a game of croquet underway on the lawn. The men wore flannels, striped blazers, and straw boaters. The women wore lace, chiffon, and delicate batiste prints. If this amounted to “very informal” Claudine wondered what “formal” would look like. She felt underdressed in her plain straw hat, high-collared white linen blouse, and black skirt cinched with a silver beaded belt.
“I suppose we’ll see,” Leo said. “The tennis court is free. Shall I find some racquets for us?”
Claudine noticed the vacant court with dismay. She had no energy for tennis. She’d anticipated a long day of being a bystander, preferably from a lounge chair, with her eyes closed. “I’ve never played,” she lied.
“How can that be? I thought you were ‘cursed by excellence in all sports’?”
She grimaced. “You remembered.”
“Every word.”
She was beginning to wish she’d stayed behind with Madame Barnett to make arrangements for the wedding. “If you can find the racquets, I could do no less than give it my best effort.”
“Oh, I’ll find the racquets to be sure. Mrs. Horton does not seem the sort of woman to neglect details of such import. Did you think to have another nap? You’re becoming quite lazy, I think.” He kissed her before she could protest. “Back in a moment,” he said before striding away toward the lawn.
She faced the fountain and watched the lily pads drift across the water’s surface and the reflection of the grand architecture looming over it. Her eyelids felt heavy. To keep herself awake, she wandered along the gravel pathways of the parterre and observed the statuary. Staring up at a woman in a toga, which left one marble breast fully exposed, she heard a disconcertingly familiar voice.
The Rake's Proposition Page 26
