by Lisa Torquay
“Want to talk about it?”
“Thanks, but no.” His hand raked his sleek dark hair. “It’s…”
“Complicated.” His friend helped. “I know. If you need something, I’ll be right here.”
“You’re a good friend, Darius!” He patted the shorter man on his shoulder.
Cumberbridge nodded and they went on talking about other things.
The music had just started and Selene looked enchanted at the couples on the dance floor. She wished she could dance. She missed it a lot. As if reading her thoughts, a footman approached with a folded message. “Meet me in the gallery. P” Oh, dear! Should she go? A risk, undeniably. But the last time he did this, she’d enjoyed dancing with him so sinfully much! What came after the dance…her body warmed with the memory. She stopped thinking and simply headed to the gallery.
There was no light in the deserted gallery except for the silvery moonlight falling on the paintings and statues lining the walls. Philip came out from behind a Greek statue.
“I always see you covet the dance.” His rich velvet voice sounded in the dimness. “I can’t help but try to give a little of it to you.”
She looked at his tall, strong figure. Thoughtful of him, strange as it might be. “I-Thank you.” She managed. The sight of him so temptingly unsettling.
He smiled faintly. “The only disadvantage is that you can have no other partners.” He caught her hand and gently pulled her to him.
Their eyes locked, they positioned for the waltz. “I want no other partner.” She breathed as his arm circled her.
“Good, because I’d allow none anyway.” His head bent near hers, rich velvet voice in her ear felt like pure tantalization.
“You scoundrel.” Her murmur a jest rather than a reprimand.
He chuckled lightly, his breath caressing her throat. He pressed her against him and they gave themselves to the dance. It involved the two of them in a sublime mist and they stepped into a world solely theirs. They twirled in the moonlight totally absorbed in each other.
“My moon goddess.” Philip muttered in her ear and she gave in to the temptation of merging her fingers in his hair. “Hm, I like when you do that. I feel wanted.”
As if there could be any doubt, Selene thought dazed. She allowed her body to lean on him and let him take her wherever he wanted. He did, making them both breathless.
She gazed at him, their eyes diving in each other. Time stopped. Their dance stopped, their breaths mingled in the air. She stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him, waltz forgotten. He let her explore his thin sensuous lips. She delighted in them, the shape, the texture, the champagne smell. She savoured him as if this was their first kiss.
“Philip.” She breathed softly against his mouth.
He could hold it no more. He turned the kiss around, diving in her seductively. This wasn’t a carnal kiss, their hunger kept in check. He kissed her as if their souls had finally met. Their bodies the vehicle for their feelings, their emotions. It came full of rapture, surrender, contentment. Elation. Their very beings merged in that ethereal kiss in the moonlight. She held his shoulders for fear of fluctuating. He held her with such enchantment and reverence; one might think her precious to him.
A flash of light in the dark.
“There they are!” Someone shouted, holding a candelabra.
Philip let go of Selene immediately but it was too late. Charles and Travis stood there, the candles tinting their drunk faces.
Darius appeared right behind. “I tried to stop them!”
Philip stared at him in silent gratitude, while the gallery filled with people attracted by the shouting. It seemed scandal had just hit them. He posted himself in front of Selene to shield her from the prying eyes.
“You couldn’t keep your paws off her, could you, Crompton!” Charles slurred vulgarly.
Rockfield glared at him, his impulse to thrash the gambling-addict to a pulp. He vaguely realised some matrons gathering around them.
“I’ll talk to you later, Eastwell.” Threat dripping from his stance.
Charles acquired a greyish colour, not able to disguise the fear in his eyes. “Good, there’s a marriage contract to sign!” He boasted
“She’s still in mourning!” A matron interposed behind her fan.
“What a shame.” Lady Winterton added.
“Alright.” Philip held up his hands trying for a compromise. “I will marry her, of course.”
“She’s your step-aunt!” Travis put wood in the fire.
A shocked murmur passed the small crowd. Philip didn’t look at Selene, but he sensed her immovable and he couldn’t fathom her reaction or her feelings about that.
“I’m not marrying anyone, you filthy-minded people!” She said hotly under her breath.
Philip felt like laughing. She wouldn’t lose her fighting streak. This woman was amazing!
“What did she say?” Came Charles’s drunk drawl.
“I said I’m not marrying anyone, you gambling-addicted wretch!” She clarified for him.
Another scandalized murmur passed the gallery for her refusal, as much as for the way she called her brother.
Philip had the impulse of picking her up and carrying her to the first church available. Admiration roaring in him. He wouldn’t let the woman go. Ever!
Charles’s face hardened at being thus disclosed. Philip watched him closely, lest he’d threaten Selene.
“That’s it, everyone.” Darius attempted. “I believe His Grace and her family will sort this out in the morning.” Looking everyone in the eye, he dared anyone to contradict him. “For now, they’ll retire.
“They will spend the night under the same roof?” Lady Winterton’s voice affronted.
For his life, Philip wouldn’t leave her alone after this stage drama!
“She’ll stay at my sister’s house.” Came Darius again and herded Philip and Selene to the back door.
Quiet, too quiet, Selene allowed herself to be taken away.
As Darius went to call for his carriage, Philip spoke under his breath. “She stays at Crompton house. Not negotiable!”
“Lord, you’re out of your mind with love!” Darius rolled his eyes. “Can’t you see that?”
Philip wanted only to see to Selene’s needs and comfort. He’d think about himself afterwards.
Selene sat in the dark carriage, mind blotted, eyes vague. What would become of her now? This scandal would surely implode her life. She felt like something had broken inside her. Bleak, utter bleakness there. She couldn’t even shed tears. She had none.
Seeing Philip there defending her, protecting her warmed her feelings. He was not to blame. Of course. Her brother must have been watching her moves. He used this as a revenge for her refusal to give him more gambling money. If this was the case, this would have come sooner or later, she thought.
A heavy tiredness fell over her. Having lost her dreams and expectations, she now lost the little peace she’d been able to gather around her. She’d not marry Philip. Not for the life of her. He didn’t love her and she… Who could tell? It came as no solution whatsoever. She’d have to regroup and find a solution for herself. Right at that moment, her mind was incapable of thinking. She’d have to wait for morning light. She leaned her head on the carriage wall, her mind empty.
Philip looked at her, a sharp pain tearing at his guts. He and Darius exchanged glances. Both saw she had no conditions of going anywhere.
“I’ll go to my sister and tell her to swear on her life Lady Crompton slept there tonight.” His sister was a married lady with two toddlers. Knowing the whole story, she’d be willing to help.
The carriage pulled to a stop. “Selene.” Philip called her as she continued leaning her head on the carriage wall.
She stared at him completely absent. She might be in shock. Blasted hell! Philip thought hotly. She didn’t deserve any of this. She’d been through enough. He’d give his own right arm to go back in time and avoid this mess! He went down the carriage, p
icked her in his arms. Cumberbridge tried to help, but Philip would not let anyone touch her.
The two friends looked at each other. “Thank you.” Philip said, turning to the house, as the carriage drove away.
Still early, Jenkins was up to open the door. “Jenkins, please send hot chocolate to my room. Lady Crompton isn’t well.” Tomorrow the servants would have heard the whole story anyway, he thought. No use hiding their…liaison anymore.
“Understood, Your Grace.” He bowed without exhibiting the slightest reaction. Hastily, he headed for the kitchen.
Entering his chamber, Philip placed her carefully on his bed. He unlaced her dress, undressing her down to her chemise. The hot chocolate had just arrived to his sitting room. He thanked the maid, closed the door and took it to his bedroom. He was sure the beverage wold make her feel better. He sat by her side. She hadn’t said anything yet, only had that vague look about her. He touched the cup to her lush lips. Feeling the sweet taste, she drank it without opposition.
He undressed down to his underwear, removed the coverlet, made her lie down in his arms. He enfolded her as she rested her head on his chest, pulling the coverlet over them.
“It’s my fault.” He tried to talk to her.
“No, it is not.” She murmured in a shaky voice that made him ache for her. “Charles would have found a way to retaliate sooner or later.”
“Perhaps, but I made it easier for him, sending that note to you.”
She placed a finger on his lips. “No, do not blame yourself.” Her voice firmer now. Maybe the chocolate was working its magic.
He kissed her finger. “I am to blame.”
“I wouldn’t have lived this day without that waltz.” She snuggled closer; he embraced her tighter.
Hearing her say that made him feel so…elated. He caught her hand, kissing each delicate finger. “You’re a damn of a strong woman, Lady Crompton!”
“Thank you, Lord Crompton.”
His hand took her hairpins out of her coiffeur, making her rich brown hair spread over her back in waves of rich brown. He caressed her glossy hair, his heart swelling until she filled all of it. What was this the woman did to him?
Philip cocooned her with all his body, wanting to protect her from any harm in the world. She embraced him in turn. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her cheek. Her eyes closed, revelling in his tenderness.
“Let’s sleep on it, my moon goddess.” His hand going up and down her back sweetly. “I’m sure tomorrow will shed light on this.”
She acquiesced, nodding. Caressing his arm, she sighed, falling asleep the next minute.
Philip lay there sensing her even breathing, her warm body under the chemise, her softness. He could stay like this forever. Darius was right. He was totally, desperately in love with her. There could be no more denying it. He couldn’t tell when it’d happened. Maybe in that first ball. Nah, that had been an initial bursting attraction. When he came to know the real reason she married his uncle. It made him awake to the woman in her, despite the fierce desire he always felt for her. She didn’t correspond to his feelings, for sure. It didn’t matter. This he felt for her was so complete and deep. He’d give the whole of it to her, not expecting anything in return, just to make her happy.
He had to do something about this situation, though. Trying to shield her form most of the consequences would be his goal in the next days. He’d also go after her half-brother. The idiot needed…straightening. The blasted wretch wouldn’t get away with it. Not if Philip could help it.
Selene moved, coming even closer to him. He enfolded her in his arms, holding her like he’d never let her go. He wouldn’t. He kept awake that night, not wanting to miss the feel of her.
She woke up to a feeling of completeness, warmth and satisfaction. Strong arms enfolded her, her cheek rested on a hair peppered, broad chest, both bodies fitting so perfectly. She revelled in it for a few minutes. Full consciousness downed, last night coming back with a revenge.
“Oh.” She groaned and tried to break free from him.
“Shh, it is alright.” He murmured and held her safe. He kissed her hair and caressed her cheeks until she calmed down again. She let him. The comfort he offered was only too welcome.
“What am I going to do, oh dear!” She embraced him, their bodies glued in utter tenderness. His hands stroking her cheeks, her shoulder, her arm didn’t help clear thinking.
“The obvious way out is marriage.” He said, as he kissed her brow.
Firmly, she shook her head. “I’ll not do this again!” She lifted her green gaze to him. “A loveless, forced marriage.”
He looked down at her, a strange expression in his clove eyes. “It’s not like we don’t have any…affinity.”
He meant passion, of course. It would fade away with time, especially if there came no deeper feelings. “No.” She insisted. “Besides, it’d be a poor solution. The step-aunt and the step-nephew? The ton wold talk about it for years!”
He held her both cheeks tenderly in his big, strong hands. “What do I care?”
“You have to care!” Their eyes met. “You could stain your name for the next generations.”
His thumbs caressed her silky skin. “It doesn’t matter. People would get used to it. We’re not related by blood, after all.”
“No.” Shaking her head repeatedly. “No!” She held his shoulders. “I won’t do this again.”
It had been painful enough the first time. Marrying him would be a very stupid mistake! Handsome and powerful, he could have any woman he wanted. Inside and outside marriage. She’d be signing up her declaration of unhappiness. Being married to John had been bearable. The late duke had been a fatherly presence for her, wise and respectful. Philip? Oh, no, he’d be the storm breaking through her life, leaving destruction and sorrow in its wake.
“I understand you had this traumatic experience, being forced to marry my uncle.” He compromised. “Let’s leave it at that for now. We have more pressing concerns.” He sat up and brought her to his lap, never stopping holding her. “I want you to abstain from public appearances for the next days.” Her head rested on his shoulder. “We’ll allow it to subside and then take action accordingly.”
“This is sensible enough.” She agreed.
“Good that you recognise it.” They stayed like that for long moments.
At last, she moved, standing up. She took a robe of his, on a chair nearby, dressing it. An amused expression covered his face. She shrugged, smiling faintly. Picking her clothes, she howled them in her arms and headed for the door.
She turned to him. “Thank you for your support.” And left his chambers.
Philip saw her leaving. In his robe, she looked even more delectable. If it hadn’t been for her state of mind, he’d have gone there and brought her back to bed. Nevertheless, there were problems to be sorted out. He stepped out of bed and rang for his valet, Thomas. First, he’d go after her half-brother. He didn’t want the wretch bothering her again. Then he’d go pull some strings to keep the worst of the scandal from affecting her. He didn’t know what he’d accomplish, but he’d try. Hard.
Chapter 16
A couple of days later, Philip had the impulse of punching his study desk. He’d sent men after Charles and the lowlife was nowhere to be found. Her half-brother probably knew that he’d have no chance against a duke and decided to “take a break” from London. Philip would renew his efforts, though. The troublemaker wouldn’t get away so easily.
Despite the fact that he’d been attending Parliament sessions, he’d been trying to be by Selene’s side as much as possible. In the night, they cuddled together, not minding to remain in his bedroom until the staff awoke. They had nothing left to hide after Lady Winterton’s ball.
The consequences of that night for him had been minimal. Almost nothing changed. Parliament, his club, his usual daily life went on. The only difference was that other men stared at him knowingly. And admiringly. He disliked it, obviously. Especially b
ecause it meant utter disrespect towards Selene. He’d thrash the first man who’d say something ungentlemanly about her.
He suspected Cumberbridge had something to do with that…discretion. He never asked, though. They met at the club, as Philip gave him a shortened version of how things happened.
“What do you think of doing next?” Darius asked, as they played billiards.
“I’m trying to find her wretch of a half-brother.” He took his turn, aiming and missing the blue ball.
“I mean the two of you.” He prepared to strike.
“I’ve asked her to marry me. I mean, before the damned ball.”
“And?” He hit the ball head on.
“She refused.” Philip didn’t want to show how it affected him, but his friend knew him only too well.
“You jest!” Darius observed him closely.
“Several times. Then and now.” He couldn’t help the thwarted expression on his face.
Darius scoffed, not able to refrain his mirth. “She refused you, a duke?”
“What of that?” He tried for valiant.
“Well, nothing…” Chuckling. “Pardon me for saying that, she seems a bit headstrong to me, though.”
“Confoundedly so!” He glowered.
“I don’t want to sound pessimist, my friend, but it appears you’ve found your match!” Laugh dancing on his face.
“Yes, go on! Laugh at me!” He mocked. “I want to watch when you find your match!”
Darius amusement died at once. “No danger of that.”
“We’ll see.” After the game, they bid farewell and Philip headed home.
Selene started feeling like a prisoner in her own home. It’s not like she had always been the life of the party. Nonetheless, she didn’t deem herself a hermit either. Moreover, the idea of hiding felt extremely uncomfortable for her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, really wrong, had she? Why did she have to take it on her as if she had committed a crime? She wouldn’t! She’d give it a week and go back to her normal life.
