Lady Alexandra's Lover

by HELEN HARDT

  How could Evan throw her into the arms of another man? Did he have no feelings for her at all? Had he forgotten their lovemaking so quickly?

  She frowned. Why should he care at all? She had behaved horribly by threatening to accuse him of rape. Her heart thundered as she recalled the dark anger on his features after she had said the words. They hadn’t spoken of it, but how could he ever forgive her? She wasn’t sure she could forgive herself.

  Nothing to be done about it now. The ball was imminent, and Mr. Landon would be there. Ally would find a way to lure him into a dark spot and make sure that someone of prominence caught them in the act.

  The grandfather clock chimed, and Ally rose to descend to the entryway. Her breath caught as Evan appeared in his dark burgundy evening attire. Another man so splendid could not possibly exist in the universe. If Sophie were there, she would have complimented their stepbrother on how fine he looked. However, Ally stood speechless, her tongue immobile.

  “I see you are ready to go.” Evan held out his hand to her. “The coach is ready.”

  Nothing about how she looked? He hadn’t given her ample bosom a glance. Perhaps he truly meant to be rid of her.

  The ride was short and not exactly unpleasant, though she hardly spoke. He escorted her into the manor where the ball was being held, and a servant announced them. Evan found a place for them at a table with his brother and Lady Marvella. Ally tried not to look too bored. She glanced around pointedly. Viscount Brooks was there, along with Sophie’s former suitor, Marshall Van Arden. On his arm was his new betrothed, who couldn’t hold a candle to Sophie. His loss.

  Yes, there he was, speaking to two young ladies who giggled flirtatiously. Mr. Landon clearly enjoyed the attention. Ally had never been in his presence at a seasonal ball. He’d attended a few balls at the Lybrook estate in Wiltshire, but this was a London ball. All of England’s most eligible debutantes were in attendance, many of whom would be vying for favors from one as wealthy as Mr. Landon.

  An odd sensation crept up Ally’s spine. She’d never had to compete for his attention before. The two ladies speaking to him were both lovely. How would she make herself more irresistible than they were? A quick glance around—she wasn’t the only woman here who thought to show off her charms. Though a fair amount of women wore more conservative attire, there was no shortage of cleavage in the ballroom.

  Should she approach Mr. Landon, or wait for him to come to her? What was the proper etiquette?

  She was lost in this conundrum of thoughts when warmth touched her forearm.

  “Lady Alexandra?”

  She looked up into the blue eyes of a handsome man she’d never met. “Yes?”

  “I am Lord Michael Owen. Lord Evan suggested I come over and make your acquaintance.”

  “Oh he did, did he?” Ally wrung her hands, sweltering in the gloves. But then she smiled. Two could play this game. “I’m ever so pleased to meet you,” she said.

  “I’m afraid Xavier did not tell me how beautiful you were.”

  “Goodness, my lord, you flatter me.” If only she had a fan to flutter over her face, the image would be complete.

  “Would you care to share a dance, my lady?”

  Ally smiled, coquettishly she hoped. “I would be absolutely delighted.”

  Lord Michael was a good dancer. Ally hadn’t danced a lot, but he led her expertly, and she did not miss a step. Her heart fluttered when Mr. Landon approached Lord Michael from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Mind if I cut in, my lord?”

  Lord Michael cleared his throat. “Not at all, Landon.”

  From Lord Michael’s expression, Ally was certain he did mind, but what could he do? It would be bad form not to allow it. And although she had enjoyed dancing with Lord Michael, Mr. Landon was her ultimate quarry this evening.

  Mr. Landon took her in his arms, squeezing her a bit tightly. “My lady, you look absolutely stunning.”

  “I thank you, kind sir.”

  “I can’t recall ever seeing you look lovelier.” He winked. “With your charms so elegantly on display, I’m surprised that every eligible man here hasn’t danced with you yet.”

  Ally’s cheeks warmed, but she was determined to play her part. “I haven’t been here long, Mr. Landon. There is all the time in the world for me to dance with many men.”

  “I hope you will save several dances for me, my lady.” He led her in a complex twirl, but she followed along with no problem.

  She let boldness overtake her. “It would be my pleasure to dance every dance with you, sir.”

  “In that case, perhaps you would consider accompanying me to the terrace later? This is a beautiful manor, and it would be my pleasure to show you all it has to offer.” His eyes gleamed with mischief.

  Ally’s nerves skittered. Her breathing became rapid, but she willed herself to calm. This was perfect, exactly what she’d wanted. Her nerves would not stop her. “Indeed, I would be delighted. Shall I meet you there later?”

  “Yes, that would be more discreet, wouldn’t it?” Mr. Landon smiled down at her. “Five minutes before the clock strikes twelve, slip out the back doors to the terrace, I will meet you there. And”—he lowered his voice—“I mean to have a taste of those beautiful breasts tonight.”

  Ally trembled. Yes, she would go through with this. After all, had this not been her plan all along? So why was she having second thoughts? All was working perfectly. She had an hour to find someone who could catch her in the act. But whom could she ask? She knew no one here, only Evan and her new acquaintance, Viscount Brooks. Surely he wouldn’t agree to catch her. But what if she asked him to meet her five minutes later on the terrace? She would be with Mr. Landon, being compromised, and Brooks would find them.

  Yes, that would work. She mentally applauded her genius.

  The dance ended, and Mr. Landon brushed his lips lightly over her gloved hand. “Until later, my beautiful lady.” He smiled.

  Ally swallowed. She hoped she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew. She looked around for Viscount Brooks, but before she could find him, another young gentleman asked for a dance, and then another. Goodness, had Evan instructed every man here to dance with her? This was becoming ridiculous. Where was Evan, anyway? She had barely seen him all evening. After he’d led her to a table, Lord Michael had swiftly escorted her away.

  Did Evan have his eye on someone? After all, he had been ready to marry her cousin Rose only months ago, despite not being in love with her. And he had insisted that she, Ally, marry him after their escapades while they were stranded.

  Perhaps he was ready to get married, and he didn’t really care who he married. The thought struck Ally hard. Kind of like a punch in her gut. Though she was absolutely sure she would marry Mr. Landon, she didn’t want Evan marrying anyone.

  Be rational, Ally. You’re not being fair.

  Her loving stepbrother hadn’t even asked her for a dance. It wasn’t polite to ignore one’s own family members at a ball. Lily and Rose’s brother, Thomas, always danced with each of them whenever the three were out and about.

  She glanced at the large grandfather clock across the room. A half hour remained before her date to meet Mr. Landon. She had to find Viscount Brooks and arrange to meet him slightly thereafter. But first, she would find out why Evan was being so impolite.

  She scanned the room. Yes, there he was, standing by the refreshment table, speaking to two other gentlemen. She hesitated to approach him. He’d most likely force the two other men to dance with her. But this had gone far enough. She marched swiftly toward the group.

  She infiltrated the group quickly and without pretense. “Excuse me, my lord.” She tugged on Evan’s sleeve. “Might I have a word with you?”

  “I’m in the middle of something,” Evan said tersely.

  “Xavier,” one of the men said, “is this the lovely Alexandra you’ve been telling us about?”

  Evan cleared his throat. “Yes, this is my stepsis
ter, Lady Alexandra MacIntyre. Alexandra, Mr. Jonathan Talkington and Viscount Clinton Canterwood.”

  The gentlemen were tall and nice-looking, but Ally had no interest in meeting either of them. To be polite, she held out her hand. “Charmed.”

  Before either man could say another word, she tugged on Evan’s sleeve again. “I’m sorry, Evan, but it is a matter of some importance.”

  Evan looked at her sternly. He wasn’t happy with her, but she couldn’t care less. She would find out what was going on in that head of his.

  “I beg pardon. If you could excuse me, gentlemen.”

  Ally led him to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom. “What is going on with you?” she demanded.

  “I’m sure I don’t have the slightest idea what you could be talking about.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You haven’t paid me a speck of attention all evening, despite the fact that you escorted me here and we are now family. It is bad form for you not to dance with me at least once. Instead, you’ve sent every drooling bachelor my way.”

  “Alexandra, I told you I was going to find you a husband, and I intend to do so.”

  She balled her hands into fists. “I told you that I have no intention of being forced to wed anyone. I shall choose whom I marry, and when I’m ready, I shall do just that. In the meantime, I will invite you and everyone else to stay out of the matter. Now”—she smiled sweetly—“I should like to dance with you, brother.”

  The word brother felt all wrong on her tongue. Despite the marriage of their parents, Ally would never think of Evan as a brother, hardly even a stepbrother. They had known each other for only months, and the attraction between them could never be denied.

  Evan let out a sigh. “Very well, then.” He took Alexandra’s hand and led her to the dance floor.

  He held her a polite distance away. No time like the present to make her feelings known.

  “Evan, I’ve told you before I will not be forced into marriage. I’ve seen arranged marriage at its worst. I will not go through what my mother went through.”

  Evan looked down at her, his expression grave. “How could you think that of me? I would never arrange a marriage for you with a tyrant like your father. But of course, why would you believe me?”

  “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just yesterday you accused me of rape, my lady.” Evan pursed his lips into a tense line.

  Ally’s stomach fell. How could she apologize for her hasty words? She would never have gone through with it, but how could she get him to believe that? “Evan, I—”

  “You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me, Alexandra. Well, here’s what I think of you. You are impulsive and self-centered, and I won’t have you being a hardship on me or on my father.”

  “I would never be a hardship on anyone. Trust me, I have plans in motion that—”

  “I am not interested in your plans. We have seen how your plans work out. You do not know what is good for yourself, so I will have to take care of you. Believe me, once I explain the circumstances, my father will be very happy that I took care of things in his absence.”

  “And what of my mother? Do you really think she will be happy that you married off her daughter?”

  “Your mother is a sensible woman. If I find a match for you, a good match, where you are treated well, why would she have any issues with that?”

  “Because she has finally found love, Evan. I should think she would want that for me as well.” Alexandra choked out the words. The truth of them stung her. Here she was, ready to marry Mr. Landon solely for his money, when what her mother wished for her was a love match.

  Well, she’d say it again—love was overrated. And she certainly wasn’t going to wait until she was fifty-two years old, like her mother, to find love. She was going to think of now, and she was going to make sure that she, Sophie, and their mother were taken care of. Once the earl died, her mother would be the dowager countess, and her financial stability would be in Evan’s brother’s hands. Ally couldn’t take the chance that they would be left destitute again.

  “What makes you think any of these suitors are going to have the least bit of interest in me?”

  “Oh, they are definitely interested. Can’t you tell?”

  Tell? Sure, they looked at her bosom. All the men did. That didn’t prove they had any interest. All that proved is they wouldn’t mind getting into her drawers. And speaking of…

  “And what will we do, dear stepbrother, if I end up with child? With your child?”

  Evan’s whole body tensed, his arms strengthening their hold. His cheeks reddened. “I have not forgotten about that. We will know soon enough if you are with child, and if you are, I will ask for your hand.”

  “I’ve already told you that I’m not marrying you.”

  “If you’re carrying my child, you will damned well marry me.”

  “If that is your decision, why on earth are you sending every eligible gentlemen and peer this side of Britain after me? If they’re as interested as you think they all are, surely one of them will decide to ask for my hand in the next week. Then what will happen if I do end up expecting your child?”

  “We will call off the betrothal, and you and I will be married.”

  Ally shook her head. What a convoluted scheme! And ridiculous, as well. Was he punishing her for accusing him of rape? She certainly did deserve reprisal for that slip of the tongue, but for goodness’ sake, he wouldn’t even let her apologize. Every time she brought it up, he cut her off. And as far as a child was concerned, Ally truly was not worried about it. As she had told him, she had just finished her courses a few days before they were intimate, and she knew her body well enough to know that pregnancy was unlikely.

  The dance ended, and Ally curtsied politely. “Thank you, my lord.” She turned to look at the grandfather clock in the corner. Only a few minutes left. She had to find Brooks and arrange to meet him so he would find her with Mr. Landon. “Now, if you will excuse me please, I’m sure I have myriad more gentlemen to dance with.” She rolled her eyes, turned, and strode away.

  * * *

  Evan strode out of the ballroom and toward the gentlemen’s smoking area. He poured himself a brandy and took a sip, letting the amber liquid settle over his tongue and down his throat. No matter how many men he sent Alexandra’s way, his guts twisted every time another one took her out onto the dance floor.

  He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hated the warmth and desire that floated over him every time Alexandra and he talked about the possibility of her being with child. Did he want her to be carrying his child? A primal and animalistic part of him did. Was he ready to be a father? More to the point, was she ready to be a mother? She truly did seem to be impulsive and self-centered, but that did not stop the incredible desire and passion he had for her. It was unlike anything he had ever known. He hadn’t felt it for Rose or anyone. And though he’d enjoyed his exploits in the past, the act itself with Alexandra was something else altogether.

  He had to get her away from him. She was most likely right about the timing of her courses. She seemed to know a lot about her own body and about the world of pleasure. Odd, since she had clearly been a virgin when they made love for the first time.

  He would marry her off quickly. How else could he curb this desire for her?

  He poured himself another brandy and sipped it, saying hello to a few men who walked in, making a bit of small talk. Finally, he decided to get some fresh air on the terrace.

  He raked his hands through his long hair, inhaling the night air. Lord, London was not Wiltshire. How he longed for a true breath of fresh air. He walked along the terrace, ignoring the whispering couples coveting their privacy. Nervous energy rippled through him. He knew what he needed, and from whom he needed it. But that would not happen tonight or ever again.

  The moon was a round white globe in the sky, casting its silver curtain
over the lawn and the couples who thought they were being discreet. Evan turned a blind eye until a cherry-red nipple caught his gaze—a beautiful nipple he knew well. His ire throbbed within him as a mouth—a mouth that was not his own—descended toward it.

  Confessions of Lady Prudence

  by Madame O

  But Lars had something else in mind. My quim still pulsating from my climax, my mouth still coated with the essence of Christophe, Lars lunged forward and grabbed me, taking a chair and arranging me on his lap. My arse was bared to him, and he slowly brushed his hands over my buttocks. I shuddered all over, the aftershock of my climax still surging through my veins, my blood still boiling, my pussy still wet.

  “Such a lovely arse, my lady,” Lars said.

  I turned and looked up at him, my cheeks warm and my pulse racing. “I am so very glad you find it to your liking, sir.”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, still rubbing my arse. “And because you have been so good today, I shall not spank your lovely arse.”

  Spank? Amelia, my heart nearly stopped! I’d heard of such things, but never had I expected any gentleman to speak of such prurient behavior. Of course, Lars was a servant from a peasant’s background, not a gentleman. Suddenly I could not contain my excitement! I wanted a spanking more than I wanted anything at that moment.

  I turned my head the other way and espied Christophe sitting across from us on a settee, his eyes glazed over, his expression unreadable.

  I turned back toward Lars and looked into his flushed face. “Do you wish to spank me, Lars?”

  “Such a beautiful arse is made for such pleasures.” He smiled lasciviously, so different from the shy and awkward footman who had entered the room only moments ago.

  “Then by all means, please spank me.”

  His hand came down on my arse with a loud swat. I jolted, a rush of pain surging through me, out to my limbs and then back inward, until the pain metamorphosed into pleasure, landing between my legs. Amelia, I cannot even describe the bliss. Before I could process the feeling cascading through me, he slapped my arse again, and the sharp pain traveled through me once more, changing into pleasure and culminating in my most secret spot.