by Lisa Torquay
That night, after dinner, Philip caught her hand and led her to his chambers. As he’d been doing the past few nights, he undressed her to her chemise, doing the same, down to his underpants. They lay under the coverlet while he enfolded her in his arms. The only light in the room came from the fireplace, shedding a warm glow over them in the bed.
Philip spooned her, his face in her loose perfumed hair. The zeal and tenderness he showed her never stopped amazing her. She revelled in his powerful body, leaning closer. He embraced her tighter. The contact of their bodies stirred her, making her remember what he made her feel when he did those…things to her. She felt him growing hard, but he never motioned. A long time passed, as she waited for him to make a move, that didn’t come.
“Philip!” She turned to him
“Hm.” His lips slid down her cheek.
“Will you stop treating me like a fragile ninny?” Her vivid green eyes on him.
He kissed the spot under her ear. “I’m not doing that!”
“Look at me.” She waited for his clove eyes to lock on hers. “I don’t need to be this sheltered. I’ll survive!” Her hands hovered over his torso.
“Single-minded as you are, I don’t have any doubt.” His eyes darkened with her caress.
Her hands dared further. His breath caught. She moved her head to kiss his chest. He closed his eyes tight. “So do something.” She nibbled his nipple, he groaned. “I want you.” She murmured on his heated skin.
“Oh, I thought you’d never say that!” Dark silky voice mumbled. His mouth descended on hers with the fasting of the last days burning in it.
That night they sought each other as if they’d been apart for a whole month.
Next day, Philip received a message from one of his men saying Eastwell had been seen in the outskirts of Suffolk. He decided to go after the lost soul himself.
He knocked at the library and entered to find Selene reading on an armchair. The scorching memories of the night popped in his mind. Going away figured as the very last thing he wanted.
“I have to make a short trip.” He said instead. “A couple of days, at most.”
Her lush lips in an O. “Fine.” He knew she didn’t expect it, but it had to be done.
He fell in an awkward silence, without knowing much how to deal with this. “I won’t be long. Don’t worry.” He finally added. If he stated the purpose of this, she might try to impede him. So he’d talk about that on his way back.
She nodded. “I left instructions with Jenkins. Talk to him if you need anything.” He completed.
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” He stared at her a couple of seconds more and left without wanting to.
That was it! She wouldn’t sit in that empty house missing Philip, Selene thought two days later. Not being a criminal, she had the right to go out a little for some fresh air. Dressing a discrete brown dress, she decided to wander Oxford Street.
Her personal carriage left her in a crowded Oxford street at that time of day. Browsing the shops at random, she saw several acquaintances, not one greeted her. The whole time, she received the cut direct. Not even a slight nod. The ton had judged, condemned and ostracised her mercilessly, she realised, a deep sadness coming over her. Thinking of it, there hadn’t been many invitations arriving at Crompton house this week. The ostracism had been going on and she’d been too immersed in the bad memory of that night, to give it a thought.
She’d not give up so soon. She entered the ribbon shop and caught sight of Lady Milton and Lady Wilkinson, her best friends. She walked to them, happy that she wouldn’t be completely isolated in all this.
“Good afternoon, my ladies!” She greeted them cheerfully. Both women didn’t move; didn’t even look at her. Her smile died pitifully.
Lady Wilkinson turned to Lady Milton and said. “We cannot keep her company or else we will be cast of society as well.” Both nodded, agreeing. That being the way they found to explain Selene their attitude. After this, they turned their back to her.
On the verge of tears, Selene had an almost inexorable impulse to turn and run. But, no, oh, no. She’d not run, not now! She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and went to browse another ribbon section. She went to the shopkeeper as an aloof lady, fighting fiercely the tense trembling in her hands as she took a ribbon. The piece of cloth never moved, even though she was in pieces.
She felt everyone’s side stares on her. Some reproving, some contemptuous. Some envious. Well, the envy she could understand perfectly, she thought a little smug. Women coveted Philip openly. Perhaps these kinds of reactions happened due to someone’s courage to go against so strict rules; she tried to console herself. But sorrow spread like acid in her heart. Luckily, she brought a closed carriage, which made it easier to hide her tears as it rode home.
London would destroy her! It would corrode everything she was and everything she valued. She concluded, as she sought refuge in her chambers. She couldn’t allow this to happen. How could she avoid compromising her very soul? The only answer she came to was to take a break from London and everything it contained, including Philip. Maybe she could attempt to ferret out some peace in the country, where she’d cool down, as clear thought came back on track. Going away always made her feel better, that’s why she did it so often.
Moreover, it’d give Philip a chance to find a bride. There’d be no zealous mama who’d allow her daughter to be courted by a man who lived in sin with his own step-aunt. It’d be painful to stay away from him; to hear of him courting another woman; to live without him. Better to start doing it now, while she still had the strength.
She called her lady’s maid, Nell. “I decided to spend some time in the country.” She announced. “Would you like to accompany me?”
“Yes, Your Grace, very much.” Nell answered meekly.
“I will understand if you want to seek another situation.” She completed. “You’ll have references, naturally.”
“Oh, no Your Grace!” The girl lowered her head. “A change of air will do you good.” She smiled faintly. “Besides, who’d give me employment knowing I’d worked for you?” She said in a practical way.
Selene breathed a smile. “Put that way, I have no argument.”
They set their plans in motion. The Duchess of Crompton had a carriage with a team of horses at her disposal, she’d travel in it. But not to the Crompton seat in Brighton. She’d find another place, Where no one, including Philip, would find her. This is what she should have done soon after John passed away. Now she’d not be in this mess. Her craving for him had spoken louder at the time he came back from the continent, though. She’d keep the memories and move on anyway. She’d leave a message with Jenkins.
Philip sat in his liveried carriage, happy to be driving home. A week away from Selene felt like eternity. He and his men chased after her blackguard of a half-brother to no avail. The addicted bastard seemed to have vanished from earth. Philip chose to go back to London to do more search there.
He took the entrance steps two at a time, eager to see her. He headed straight to the library, where she’d be at this time. Empty. The study. No one. Fast steps to her Chambers. Deserted. He went down, calling for Jenkins.
“Where might her grace be?” He could hardly disguise his impatience.
“She left a message saying she’d go to the country, Your Grace.”
Philip’s brows pleated. “How is that, Jenkins.”
“All I know, Your Grace, is that Her Grace went out to Oxford Street and decided to travel when she came back.” Jenkins reported as precisely as he could. In the bottom of his heart, he thought His Grace and Her Grace the perfect couple and wished them united somehow. “The driver said she’d got the cut direct from the ladies, her friends. He heard sobs in the carriage as well.”
Philip felt so furious, he wanted to discharge canons on all those hypocrites! Who did they think they were, to throw stones on others? “Thank you, Jenkins.” The butler bowed and left.
Damn it
! Would there be no reprieve for her? Hadn’t she taken enough? For her blasted half-brother and from the same sibling! He’d go to Brighton and stay there with her, no matter what. The ton could go to blazing hell!
She hadn’t gone to Brighton, he discovered next day. Neither the steward knew anything about her whereabouts. Of course, everybody knew what happened in London. Philip didn’t give a fig! He wanted to find her, talk to her. He wanted her. Full stop!
She proved difficult to track down, the stubborn woman! She probably thought of sparing him of her scandalous presence. Only he didn’t care! He would bring her to be together with him, take what it takes. He put his men after her, with extra reward for who found her.
Chapter 17
The sound of the turbulent sea waves and the wind on her face soothed Selene’s nerves as she walked through the meadows. She never thought Gloucestershire would be so beautiful. April turning to May, the snow gone, the infinite sea. She’d find a shred of serenity walking those paths. Because she missed Philip like a condemnation. These weeks away from him tore at her heart. Several times she nearly ceded to the temptation of rushing back to London, whatever the cost to her, scandal or not. This distance threatened her sanity. She shouldn’t feel that much for a man she had a…carnal relationship with. Something must be wrong! She didn’t know what, couldn’t care. She had to forget him. Immediately!
She ended up here on a blind search. They’d drove westwards and when she thought they had gone far enough from London, she started looking for a cottage to lease. She found this little jewel box by the seashore. She’d adored it almost at once. Big enough, that her lady’s maid and driver had their own quarters, the cottage’s decoration remounted centuries in a cosy, pleasant way. She rented it under her own family name. She didn’t want to bring London’s scandals there.
She’d been spending eventless days there, which suited her fine. That’s what she sought; a balmy time to forget him, to forget her disappointments, scandal and the loss of her dreams. Only now she had memories, instead of dreams. Hundreds of memories, big and small, haunting her days, harassing her nights. They ignited her hollow body, installed craving in her void spirit. She needed to surface this torment and did not know how! She hoped it all faded away with time, or she’d go crazy.
Darkness fell so suddenly, Philip didn’t notice it coming. The lantern in his hand lit a couple of yards ahead, where he conducted his horse. He’d been riding for hours, not to mention the last days. One of his men had found a lead, which Philip followed with wild impatience. He hadn’t been sleeping well, or eating enough, or thinking clearly, his mind completely focused on getting to her. The increasing sound of the sea waves warned him of the danger of a precipice.
She awakened his predator’s instincts, sending him on the thrill of the hunt. It aroused him, making him want her blind. After all these days? He was also enraged he could barely control himself. No woman had ever monopolized his attention to this level. He could think of nothing else. Worry for her safety battled with the deprivation caused by her absence and the consequent frustrated desire. The result? A well of wired, wakeful energy that wouldn’t give him peace.
In the distance, he devised a faint light. He directed his stallion to it. Nearing it, he distinguished a cottage, a nice one, by the way. He set his stallion to a gallop, watchful to the terrain he rode on. As he approached, he saw the light came from a room above.
He dismounted, tied his weary horse and strode to the door. He knocked as politely as he could. Waited. No answer. He knocked harder. Silence. He started banging on the massive wood. Someone had to come, the cottage inhabited for sure. He kept on banging, hearing movement inside. The door opened in a dry movement. Her driver. His men did a damn bang on job! To be rewarded suitably.
“Your Grace.” The man bowed, holding a lantern.
He stepped in without invitation. Behind the driver, her lady’s maid. A few steps up the stairs, Selene. He looked up at her figure wrapped in a robe. Their eyes meshed, both frozen.
This woman would always take his breath away. She looked regal and beautiful standing there, loose hair, vivid green eyes flashing. His love for her swelled relieved to find her safe. Still angry, though.
“What are you doing here?” She asked bluntly.
“So much for a warm welcome.” He drawled lazily. Not for the world would he show how desperate he’d been. He made a show of taking off his coat.
“Leave!” She commanded him.
“Yes, leave!” He motioned to both servants. They obeyed him, scurrying. Her eyes flashed fury.
He shut the door with a thud. Pacing, he posted himself at the bottom of the stairs, legs apart, arms crossed. “What were you thinking?”
“Nothing that concerns you!” The driver had left the lantern on the table nearby, illuminating their confront.
Oh, but the blasted woman was impossible! He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her senseless or tame her. “You’re my woman, everything concerns me!”
“No, I am not!” Her chin lifted even more, but her cheeks flushed and her eyes lit. “Now, take yourself out of my house!”
“Not before we talk.” His deep voice firm, one foot on the first step.
“I don’t want to talk to you. I want you gone.” She followed his movement, alert.
“In the dark?” He climbed another. “Risking falling over a precipice?” Another step.
Her body went still, her breath caught. “Sleep in the stable then.” Her voice low, breathy.
Another step. “No.”
Her hand held the handrail, her knuckles white; she swallowed hard. “No?”
He came two steps bellow hers, levelling their eyes. “Say no again.” He defied her, referring to her refusal in letting him stay.
Her uneven breath made her bosom rise and fall. She opened her mouth. No sound. She closed it. It opened again. No sound yet.
He laced her slim waist. “Damn you.” He murmured. Her hands flew to his shoulders. “Damn you!” His lips took hers in a storm of longing and desire.
She moaned and opened for him, her body melting against his. “You arouse me to unbearable levels when you make me chase after you!” He groaned on her mouth. To prove it, his other hand grabbed her buttock and pulled her to him, as his tongue invaded her deeper.
She moved against him provocatively. “You devil!” She grumbled.
“You witch!” He devolved, while he picked her up and took her to the room where a fire burned. He kicked the door shut and placed her on her bed.
He opened her robe and found her naked under it. He was lost; he’d not last five seconds! His mouth closed on her breast, famished. She arched, moaning.
How was Selene to resist him, resist this? She wondered as he threw her in a torment of blazing greediness. He smelled clean sweat and horse; his stubble teased her sensitive skin; his straining erection tantalized her. All of him irresistible, she embraced him arms, legs, and allowed the thirst of the last weeks to be quenched. She’d gladly live in purgatory the whole eternity for just one more night with him. Let perdition take her, she didn’t care. More, she wanted more!
She didn’t know how, but she ripped his shirt open in a wild attempt to have all of him. “Yes, ravish me!” He mumbled feverish on her belly, as her hands explored him keenly.
His devilish tongue found her centre, driving her to insanity. After that, she became instinct and passion. He teased her, satisfying her, making her hungrier, more desperate. She contorted, bunched his sleek black hair, pleaded, until she could take it no further. She pulled him up, fumbled with his breech opening, panting, murmuring nonsense. Finally, she encountered what she looked for. She pulled him to her and their bodies joined in one deep delicious slide. She met his body, sighing.
He embraced her, cocooning her into him, stoking the flames, driving them both to agonising need. Deep. Deeper. Starved. Blind. The storm exploded in her body, engulfing her in a torrent of pleasure in between ragged sobs.
He moved in her, grunting shamelessly, eyes closed, tortured expression, thrusting towards an earthquake, ragged breath. When it happened, he poured in her like a madman until he emptied all he had.
They held each other, spent, drained, consumed. Because it was here, as one, that they expressed their emotions, showed their feelings, bared their souls. What they were, what they had, what they felt lay before each other in the throes of passion.
A long time passed, the fire in the fireplace dwindling to a mere glow. They lay in her bed, a tangle of limbs coiled in a wrinkled mess of bedclothes, the fire throwing a reddish colour to their bodies. Given to one another, sated.
“How did you find me?” She asked, her voice muffled by his chest.
“It’s not every day a lady drives in a carriage and a team to rent a house of her own.” He said casually.
“How little discreet of me.” She lamented scornfully.
“You didn’t need to come hide here. We could have stayed in the manor for the rest of the season.”
“We?” She lifted her head. “There is no we, Philip!” She pulled a strand of hair impatiently from her face.
“That’s open to discussion.” His rich velvet voice matter-of-factly.
“Your dukedom needs a spotless reputation.” She sounded like a governess.
“It’s not spotless anymore, is it?” His hand immersed in the mass of her hair.
She sighed soundly as she bent her head, touching her forehead to his chest in an exasperated gesture. “Goodness Gracious!” She exclaimed, lifting her head again. “All you have to do is keep away from me!”
He looked at her, brows pleated. “As if it was only you in that gallery!” He relaxed a little. “People will remember me too!”
“Sod Charles!” Her head fell back on his hair sprinkled chest.
“I went after him. He’s nowhere to be found.”
She eyed him quizzically. “You did?”
“Yes, the week you left London.”
