A Chance to Dream

by Lynne Connolly

  “He’s very well off,” her friend ventured, “and very biddable. He could be trained.”

  “I don’t want a man like him!” Lady Judith cried. “I want someone like Lord Blyth! Handsome, polite and strong.” She looked away, straight into Violetta’s skeptical gaze. She turned her head so she was back with her friend, in their intimate world. Violetta suspected Lord Blyth wasn’t the main reason for Lady Judith’s wish to marry him over Lord Shapley. Rather, Perdita was the draw.

  “My!” Lady Perdita seemed much struck. “I never thought of him like that, but I suppose he is. He’s just been my big brother. He’s worked hard to restore the family fortunes.”

  Lady Judith shrugged, her gold-coloured satin gown moving with her shoulders. The cut was exquisite, Violetta noted, and settled back in place with scarce a wrinkle. The colour, however, was wrong for a golden haired woman, especially one with such sallow skin. She would have put Lady Judith in fresh pinks and greens, not a shade like that.

  “A man in love can be foolish. I’ve been doing my best to make him fall in love with me, but his mind seems to be elsewhere half the time.”

  Lady Perdita leaned forward and patted Lady Judith’s hand in a strangely motherly gesture. “Never mind, dear. Once you get him in the country there are a thousand ways you can compromise him. Lots of open space.”

  Violetta told Orlando later, after he had crept into her room. It was dark and only two candles lit, but there was enough light for him to see her by.

  She was waiting, dressed only in that blue gown he had liked the night before. It was the only gown of any quality she had here, deciding to say it had been given to her by her last employer, if anyone asked. As soon as the door opened she flew into his arms, unable to wait. He embraced her with equal enthusiasm. “I wasn’t sure of my welcome,” he protested.

  “I know I shouldn’t but it’s all very new to me.” She leaned back in his arms, showing him a face shining with happiness.

  “Stay like that.” His face lost the smile, to be replaced by something else, something deeper. His gaze roamed her face hungrily. “I’ve never had a welcome like that. I could get used to it.” Her laugh was a little shaky. She could get used to it, too. She must not. It was imperative she did not. When he kissed her it was a natural extension of his look. He drew back after a tender touch. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for most of the day. I had things to arrange.”

  “You must be very busy. You mustn’t think I was upset.” Or know that she missed him.

  “No. Besides, my business today concerned you, indirectly.” She arched an eyebrow in query. He laughed. “I’ve sent Daniel out of your reach.”

  “I—I wasn’t—”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “Hush, it doesn’t matter. I was foolish and jealous. But something needed to be done about the situation. Daniel and Miranda couldn’t continue as they were. That news about Dr. Sewell gave me new hope. I haven’t told Daniel my suspicions yet, because Corin and I are not entirely sure ourselves, and we still have some concern about Miranda. She was very ill.”

  “It was the children, wasn’t it?” Violetta had heard something, but only what was general knowledge.

  “She nearly died when she gave birth last time, and Dr. Sewell told her she must not have children ever again.”

  “Ohhhhhhh.” That explained a great deal. If Lady Rosington must not have children, the likelihood was they abstained. For any couple who cared about each other that must be unbearable. “How dreadful.”

  “Hush. It is for them to work out, not us. I’ve done all I can. If they can’t sort out their affairs in the month Corin and I have given them, then we’ll have to take more direct methods. Maybe bring my mother into the situation. And this way, I get you with no distractions.”

  She stared up at him. He was perfectly serious. She could see no guile in his eyes. “So you have me to yourself.”

  “That was my hope,” he confessed. He smiled, gently, intimately. “Have I achieved my aim?”

  “For now.” She couldn’t refuse him. It would be denying herself too much. She deserved this, just a taste, for a little time. Afterwards, her life could begin, settle into the pattern she had planned for herself but this was her own limbo, an island between the two worlds and one she meant to use.

  She reached up and pressed her lips to his. He responded gratifyingly, immediately drawing her close and opening his mouth against hers. She drank him in, absorbing him into her, feeling his passion feed hers. He wanted her, still wanted her after last night, and she gloried in it.

  He drew away gently, gazing at her. She wore her hair loose tonight, something he seemed to appreciate. He lifted a hand and sifted it through her hair. “It’s even better down. Soft, like silk.”

  “And not a curl in it,” she added, wrinkling her nose. She spent hours suffering the ministrations of her maid with curling tongs. She refused to wear rags in her hair overnight because she couldn’t sleep that way.

  “I like it.” His voice was intimately low. “How are you today?”

  His deceptively casual tone didn’t deceive Violetta. “You mean how do I feel after last night?”

  “Yes.” His attention went from her hair to her eyes. “Physically.”

  She smiled. “I had a bath. I feel fine.”

  He let his breath out in one long sigh. “I’m so glad. I was worried about you.”

  A thought occurred to her. “Was I your first virgin?”

  His smile was broad and lingering. “Yes, as a matter of fact you were. I knew what to expect, but I didn’t know how it would affect me.”

  She leaned back a little against his arm. “How did it affect you?”

  His arm tightened around her. “It made me strangely protective. Caring.”

  “Strangely?” It was surprising to find that she was the strong one here. She had known what she was doing but it seemed taking him by surprise was the right tactic. Not that she had planned it, of course.

  “It’s not something I usually feel towards my—” He paused, unable to find the right word.

  “Conquests?” she suggested brightly. “Mistresses?”

  He frowned. “Neither of those seem right. Lover, perhaps.”

  She allowed her scepticism to show. “Are you trying to tell me I’m different?”

  His frankness disarmed her. “Yes. You’re different, Violetta. In what way I’m not yet sure. I’d appreciate a little time to find out.”

  She stared at him, not knowing what to say. She found him different too. Different from the haughty gentleman she had first thought him. Different from how she imagined a lover would be. “Yes. Just a little time, though.”

  “We’ll see.” With her acquiescence, having assured him she was well enough to accept his approaches, he released her, but kept hold of her hand, and drew her across to the bed. “Lie down with me,” he suggested.

  She lay down, and moved across so he could lie next to her. He leaned up, propped up on one elbow and gazed down at her. “We have all night. I believe Perdita is planning to stay out late tonight.”

  “Shouldn’t you have escorted her?”

  “She has Corin. He’s promised not to leave her side.”

  “Ah.” She could think of nothing else, nor did she want to. She lay and watched him, tracing the front of her gown with an idle hand, touching her so softly it felt like the touch of a feather. He flicked open the first hook. She smiled. He flicked open the second, exposing a narrow triangle of bare skin. “Your skin seems to invite touch.”

  “Only from you.”

  His smile turned wry. “For now. I would like to keep you, you know that.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t decided what to do yet. I have to make my own way in the world, be on my own, but I’m not as sure as I was a week ago.”

  “Has what we did last night anything to do with that?” He flicked open another fastening.

  “Everything.” She curled her arm around his neck and pulled him
down to kiss her. It was long, leisurely and deepened very slowly. When Violetta opened her mouth under the pressure of his lips he touched her with his tongue, and then slid slowly inside, caressing her lips, then meeting her tongue in a caress she returned eagerly. He leaned across her and slid his hand inside her gown, around her ribs just below her breast. When he spread his fingers and touched her breast she moved into his hand, revelling in the sensation of being cherished and wanted. He accepted her invitation and moved his hand up to cover and caress her. When he rolled the nipple gently between finger and thumb she moaned into his mouth, feeling the tingle from her nipple right down to her thighs.

  He broke the kiss and gazed at her. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I decided I wouldn’t take advantage of you while you were under my roof. What happened?”

  She let him see her reaction to his caresses, her smile softening, arching into his hand. “We happened. I wanted you, too.”

  “I need to know that. Otherwise I’d be the most selfish beast in nature.”

  She gazed at him. There were no barriers between them, not at that moment. He had lost the haughty, aristocratic disdain he habitually wore when facing the world, and looked at her with warmth and desire. She could almost feel the heat emanating from him, entering her. She could bask in it for a long time. She moved, flexed her body like a cat and he smiled, enjoying her pleasure. “Perhaps I should minister to you all night. Your personal attendant, here only for your pleasure.”

  “Don’t tempt me. I might take you up on your offer.”

  His steady caresses continued, not increasing in intensity. “Your pleasure is my pleasure. I please myself while I’m pleasing you.”

  Abruptly she said, “Is it always like this?”

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “No.” His smile faded, to be replaced by a more intense look. He stared into her eyes and his hand stilled. “We’ve only made love once, and already I need to see you, be with you. It was like that before but not so concentrated.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I’d like to see where it leads.” He resumed his stroking. “I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want to make you feel trapped. You don’t like that, do you?”

  “No.” How did he know that? She had thought her disguise as Charlotte Lambert so good, yet he was able to tell a great deal about her. Did everyone see these things? She sincerely hoped not.

  The smile returned. “Sufficient unto the day,” he quoted, and bent to kiss her.

  All the warmth he had been slowly building inside her erupted and she sucked cold air through her nose. If his mouth hadn’t been covering hers she would have gasped. It felt as though everything surged up inside her, increasing her need, making all her senses focus on him. Only him.

  He lifted his mouth to murmur, “Relax. Let me love you,” then he dropped small kisses on her nose, her cheeks, and trailed light caresses down to her throat. His hand continued its magic, and she felt him loosen another hook, and another. He lifted his head and leaned back on his elbow. They watched together as he opened each hook in a steady, relentless passage down to her lower calf, where the gown flowed free. He moved to straddle her body, her legs between his, and opened the robe.

  She was laid open for his pleasure, and he took it. He gazed his fill until she flushed, her body suffused with the warmth she still felt inside. “You’re truly lovely. Soft, smooth, a joy.” He ran his hand down from her breasts to her hips.

  Leaning back on his heels he divested himself of the light robe he wore over his shirt and breeches, letting it fall behind him, then his shirt, pulling it over his head. The ribbon came away and he shook his hair free, smiling at her in the intimate way she was coming to know well. She smiled back and curved her body first one way, then the other. His response was a low groan, and he came back over her again, taking her mouth, pushing his hands into her hair on either side of her head.

  She wouldn’t let him go. Throwing her arms around him, gripping him tightly she returned his kiss, exploring him, feeling him meld her closer. Passion rose inside her to a deep longing. If he left now she would follow him until he gave her what she needed.

  He wasn’t about to leave. His breeches hid nothing from her, nor did he want to hide, pushing his erection into her stomach in a motion as old as time. She gave him the response, arched her back to push.

  He leaned back just long enough to tear the buttons undone at the waistband and kick the last garment down his legs. He came back down on top of her, pushing her legs open and settling between them. He lifted himself up and gasped. “You take me back to boyhood. I seem to have lost all the finesse I took such pains to learn.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I want you. Please.”

  “One condition.”

  She couldn’t believe it. “Anything!”

  “Call me by my name.”

  Immediately, she cried out. “Orlando!”

  Immediately, he responded. He touched her between her legs. “Oh God, Violetta!” He slid down and pushed between her legs, using one hand to guide himself to her. Then he looked up. Meeting her dazed stare with his burning gaze he thrust. They were one.

  They cried out, breath meeting and mingling. She arched her back, pushing her shoulders into the mattress beneath her. He kept his thrusts steady, not increasing, building the warmth inside her until she cried out. “Please, please!”

  “Please what?” His voice held a teasing note.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know!” She arched her back, tilting her hips to take all of him, feel everything inside her. She felt him push his hand between them and down, and then he touched a place more exquisitely sensitive than she could ever remember it being before. Now she twisted to one side, sure she wouldn’t be able to take any more and the movement pushed his hand deeper, harder against her. “Oh, oh, oh!” was all she managed, and she felt him thrust so deeply he touched the centre of passion, something deep inside tore her apart.

  Her scream would have brought the servants running had he not kissed her, opening his mouth hotly against hers, pushing his tongue inside with none of the finesse he had used earlier. She needed this, this roughness, near to violence and he seemed to understand. He gave her everything, prolonging her climax past anything she thought possible until he joined her.

  His long, low groan came from somewhere deep inside and she felt him jerk, push and take her over the edge again. Curling her legs around his she pressed her pelvis hard against him, feeling her pubic bone sink into his flesh. He was still pulsing inside her, gasping and burning, until he rested his forehead against hers and groaned long and low.

  It sounded better than an oratorio.

  Orlando came to lying next to Violetta, his arms holding her tightly. She was asleep. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, but she didn’t wake, just moved closer to him. Something stirred inside him. It was more than desire, more than the novelty of a new affair. He was terribly afraid it might be love.

  He knew her. He liked her. Now he loved her. Orlando wasn’t sure what he was to do about it, but he was forced to acknowledge the simple fact. He wanted Violetta, and he couldn’t foresee a time when he wouldn’t.

  He stroked her hair away from her face, enjoying the feel of the strands against his fingers. He needed her in his bed, every night, but he knew it might not be possible. Her breath heated his shoulder, and he felt her sigh. She was awake.

  Her smile was warm and deep and heart-full. “You’re still here,” she said.

  She sounded sleepy, vulnerable. He wanted to shelter her, watch over her. “Where else would I be?”

  “Did I sleep long?”

  “About half an hour. Not long.”

  “You should go.”

  “Why? Do you want me to? I locked the door when I came in. No one will come.”

  She smiled. He felt the movement her cheek made against his shoulder. “What about your room?”

  “They’ll assume I spent the night elsewhere. It’s not uncommon.
”

  She blinked, came awake. “Am I your only—?” She stopped, blushing.

  “Mistress?” He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t want her to look at him with anything but warmth and she was still skittish, still unable to accept any possibility of anything but a temporary relationship. He would have to be careful. If he was too persistent, too needy, he knew she would leave him, push him away. “Yes. I don’t make a habit of promiscuity.” He pulled her closer. It wasn’t cold, they were lying on top of the covers but he wanted to feel her against his body. “I’ve not been celibate, and I have an undeserved reputation. Strangely, the reputation only dates a few years back, at about the time I restored my fortune.” She joined in his laughter. It felt delicious. The feel of her skin against his was addictive, more than anything else he had ever known.

  He was sure. This was what he wanted.

  Orlando loved her again. Now the explosive desire that had pushed him before had evaporated he could take his time and love her. If he couldn’t tell her he loved her, not yet at any rate, he could show her.

  He kissed her, long and sweet and felt her response, pushing closer to him, touching her tongue to his. He withdrew a little and played his tongue against her lips, tracing the shape, only to enter again, taking her mouth as thoroughly as he’d taken her body earlier. He pulled back, looking at her face, marvellous eyes heavy-lidded and glowing. “You need a wash.” His grin was entirely wicked.

  He washed her, spreading kisses over her body. When he reached her breasts he took his time, tasting and circling, until her nipples became hard pinnacles, designed to fit the warmth of his mouth. He cradled them in his hands, drew one deep until he felt the tip touch the roof of his mouth and heard her responsive sound, low in her throat. When she sighed his name he rewarded her and moved lower, circling the delicious indentation of her navel with his tongue and then tracing her stomach down to the nest of black curls covering her most intimate secrets. When he pushed his finger deep into the welcoming wetness he got a startled reaction. “What—what are you doing?”