Except maybe he stole her heart.
Aurelia lifted her hands, pressed them against his chest with every intention of pushing him away, but somehow she ended up flattening her palms against him. His arms banded around her, dragging her close, forcing her hooped skirt to crush between them. Not close enough, but closer than she’d been to any man.
She’d never felt this way before; safe and yet in the greatest danger. She was in danger of losing everything to this man.
He kissed her sweetly, but deeply, touching her lips with his tongue so she opened her mouth and gasped as he deepened their embrace. He licked the inside of her lips and she shuddered. She’d never realised that was such a sensitive area before. Then he withdrew and gently sealed their mouths.
After he finished the kiss he didn’t release her and she didn’t force the separation. He gazed down at her and cupped her cheek. “You feel it too.” It was a statement rather than a question.
“Do I?” Felt what? She wouldn’t admit what she felt. She was too vulnerable to allow any more than he’d taken already.
“I needed to kiss you more than I needed my next breath, Aurelia.” He murmured her name like a prayer. “Don’t look at me that way.”
With a groan, he kissed her again. His lips moved over hers with soft insistence while he held her close and ravished her senses. He smelled of pure male, overlaid with a sharper scent, akin to an exotic fruit. She breathed it in while he kissed her with a command she was powerless to resist.
He stroked the bare skin exposed above her gown, the slopes of her upper breasts. She shivered, arching into his touch. One part of her stood back, lifting a warning finger, telling herself she should not do this, but the rest of her didn’t care. Warmth enveloped her inside and out, as if he’d thrown a protective shield around them, one created for them alone.
When he moved his mouth slightly, she followed, and that opened her lips enough for him to plunge his tongue inside her mouth. She responded by stroking her tongue against his, letting instinct be her guide, for he had now moved her into a place she’d never been before. A feverish moan reverberated in her mouth and throat—his. Even the notion of him tossing her down to the stone floor and throwing up her skirts didn’t alarm her. She trusted him, something reason told her she should never do with Lord Stretton.
His body rocked as he shuddered and drew a sharp breath in through his nose before he withdrew and finished the kiss with a gentle caress. Planting his hands firmly at her waist, he pulled back quickly, the movement shocking her from her trance. She jerked back, her breath coming in short gasps, and lifted one hand to her heated cheek.
“I need to—” She turned, intending to race from the pavilion, but he stopped her with one outstretched hand, palm up.
“Stop. If you rush from here in a distressed state, people will see you and assume all manner of things. Do you want that?”
Blinking realization back into her confused brain, she understood what he was saying. Bringing other people into this would force events neither of them wanted. Or at least, they shouldn’t want. She’d only just met him, for heaven’s sake.
At a cautious distance, she watched him. He glittered, the myriad buttons on his coat catching the light of the full moon, the sapphire pin at his throat gleaming with insouciant wealth. His waistcoat was embroidered with silver thread—even that caught the light when he moved. She wore soft satin and pearls. She wouldn’t glitter like that. Besides, he stood in clearer light, between her and the exit.
“I’ll take you back.” He spread both hands now in a gesture of appeasement. “I’m sorry. I meant to kiss you, but not go that far. Just initiate. And it’s your fault, you know.”
“How do you work that out?” All she’d done was—well, if to accompany a man to a quiet place in a garden was provocative, then she had been so. “I’m not experienced in this—kind of thing.”
“I know. I can tell,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The low tones increased her sense of intimacy, and she repressed the urge to step forward, back into his arms. “You’re lovely, Aurelia. More than I can express. The moment I saw you I wanted you, and I still do. However, I’ve forced civilized behaviour on myself, and I have enough control not to do anything you don’t want me to. Barely.” He smiled, a gleam of teeth in the gloom.
“Sir, what can come from this?”
“My name’s Blaize. I’d like you to use it. After all, I’ve made free with yours.”
“You have a terrible reputation,” she said. As she’d told him, she was too high-minded to listen to gossip.
“Well earned, I assure you.” He said it as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “It doesn’t mean I’m not capable of being reformed by a good woman.”
Although her mother would have reprimanded her for unladylike behaviour, that didn’t suppress her snort of derision. It made him smile. “If I believed that, I wouldn’t just be innocent. I’d be a fool.”
“It could be true.” He moved toward her, but only to offer her the support of his arm. “If you’re feeling better, we should make our way back. I won’t apologize because I don’t regret a moment of having you in my arms. It will be my fervent ambition to repeat that experience.”
“But I couldn’t help myself—” She broke off, aware of revealing a weakness he could well take advantage of, should he wish.
“I know. I felt it too. I know what I want. Precisely and in great detail. I know all the ways I want to pleasure you. To touch your bare skin, to leave no part of you unkissed and uncaressed.”
She caught her breath, startled by his frankness, but pleased he didn’t hold back, as so many men did. They assumed she’d faint or something equally ridiculous if they told her the truth, in detail. Stories of roses and princesses had ceased to enthral her many years ago. These days she longed to experience the real thing. That, she had to admit, had driven her out here with him tonight almost as much as her desire for this man. A desire she couldn’t allow to get out of hand again. Already people would notice her absence, and if she wasn’t careful, word would spread. Such behaviour had led to society condemning a young woman out of hand and forcing an issue neither party wanted.
“I won’t let it happen to you,” he said, as if she’d spoken her fears aloud.
Alarm spiked through her. Occasionally her mother had done that, answered unspoken questions. Aurelia had accepted her explanation, that her mother knew her well. But this man? “Did you read my mind?”
His half smile demonstrated his amusement. “How could I? Of course not. It’s merely I guessed what you were thinking because I was too. We have to avoid scandal, for your sake.” He began to walk, careful to guide her down the two shallow steps before the pavilion.
Then he took her in the opposite direction. “If this garden conforms to most I’ve seen, then we should have an exit by several better populated areas. We will claim we have been in that vicinity all along. We were gone barely ten minutes, by my reckoning. It should be enough to calm your mother’s fears.” He gave her a mischievous smile. “The pavilion was a lucky chance. They are often situated in such places, but I had no guarantee it would be there. We should pass this off as a stroll in a well-populated garden.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” They walked by a group of trees, the foliage bursting out in green abundance. “I want to see you again. If I’m in disgrace with your family, I can hardly do that, can I? Do you think your mother will receive me?”
“With your reputation, sir, I’m not sure. Mama is very protective of me.”
He nodded. “You’re a prize, my sweet. Any fortune-hunter would be glad of your hand.” The evening was crisp and invigorating. Despite her inner turmoil the small diversion was helping Aurelia regain her equilibrium.
“Are you a fortune-hunter, then?”
He gave a crack of laughter. “Hardly.” They strolled into a better-lit area, flames from torchères illuminating the broad paths, and the house
came into view. Other people strolled around, and a few glanced in their direction. Stretton nodded to one or two, his movements unhurried and easy. Graceful. “I have fortune enough for two. Or twenty, come to that. If your mother should enquire, she’ll find my estate in good order.”
That sounded alarmingly like intent to serious courtship. She needed to get a grip of herself first and control this wayward emotion that could lead her into so much danger. “Why would she enquire? We only just met.”
“And kissed. Tonight we must keep our meeting brief.” He turned, facing her, and she let her hand drop away from his arm. “If you tell me to go to perdition, I will. But if you give me any encouragement at all, I will come back.” An impression of complete sincerity shaded his grey gaze. No teasing smile, no polished society mask. She sensed that few people had seen that expression, as if he’d let his mask drop for a bare moment. Just for her.
“I don’t know what this is.” A kiss meant nothing. She hardly knew this man, except, deep down, she did in a way she didn’t begin to comprehend. It was a foolish notion. It had to be. It could not signify a thing. She had to think of her future, who would make her happy and in what ways, not succumb to instinct and emotions.
“We’ve met before, surely.”
“No, I’ve lived in Scotland all my life. This is my first visit to London.”
“And my last visit to Scotland was a very long time ago. You wouldn’t have been out.” He gave one of his short laughs, as if momentarily distracted, but returned to his point. “I will take this as slowly as you need to, Aurelia.”
“As slowly as we both need to.” As a peer of the realm, he needed more than instinct too. He needed a wife who could hold her own in society. And approaching someone like her, well-connected, wealthy, protected and a spinster, he could only mean one thing: she was a prospective wife. He could dally with her for a while, but not too long.
The next measures of the dance she knew well, although she’d never trodden it herself, only seen it in others and watched. She was relatively sheltered for her age, but her father’s long illness and the surety that she could, unlike other less wellborn and wealthy females, take her time, made her secure in her desire to wait.
He leaned a little closer. “We’ll take as long as you like. But don’t take too long, sweet Aurelia, or I fear I’ll never last.”
“You’re fickle?”
“Not when I’ve seen what I want.” His voice turned grave. “Once that happens, nothing will deter me from my course.”
Would she like that? With an inward shudder of desire, she knew that she would. Any attempt to fool herself otherwise would be futile.
Back in the ballroom, little had changed. People still danced. With a shock, Aurelia realized their absence had encompassed barely twenty minutes. The pretty gilt clock set above the cold fireplace told her so. However, her absence wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.
As soon as she set foot in the room, her mother was on her, her glare asking her where she’d been without words. Aurelia felt the force of her mother’s anger like a strong breeze blowing over her cheeks.
Blaize took a small step forward, partly sheltering her from her mother’s fury, but he didn’t know how she reacted. Aurelia had learned that resistance only made her mother worse and more determined to have her way. She found it much better to docilely agree and then take her own path anyway. The few times she’d been forced into doing something she didn’t want to had proved worth all the times she’d done as she wished.
Not that Blaize would know this. Aurelia could only try to warn him off. If her mother took against him, their opportunities to meet again would be severely curtailed.
Almost as if he could hear her, he glanced at her and stepped to one side, performing an elegant bow. “It has been my privilege to escort your daughter to the refreshment room, ma’am, and for a brief foray into the gardens.” He gave her another glance, but none of the intimacies they’d exchanged showed in his gaze, friendly at the most. “Many others were doing the same. I trust I didn’t outstay my welcome?”
The duchess stared at him for one fraught moment. “Are there other people outside?”
“Twenty at least, by my reckoning.”
She gave a sharp nod. “Very well.”
A tall, dark figure was heading determinedly toward them.
The dowager exclaimed in delight. “Why, I didn’t know the Duke of Lyndhurst was arriving today! What a pleasant surprise, your grace!”
Aurelia had to smile too. Although the duke had a naturally stern mien, he’d never shown her anything but kindness and consideration. Instead of moving away, Blaize remained by her side, and she felt the tension in the atmosphere increase as the two squared up to each other.
Blaize was leaner, more athletic, but the men were of a height, Lyndhurst perhaps an inch taller. Lyndhurst’s shoulders were squarer, his chest broader, but Aurelia didn’t know which she’d back in a fight, because Blaize had a slick swiftness that the more powerfully built Lyndhurst could lack. Why was she thinking of fights?
However, Lyndhurst had one major advantage, which he was currently explaining to Blaize in answer to his query as to why they hadn’t met before.
“I’ve been abroad until recently, with the army.”
Blaize frowned. “Lyndhurst. Yes, I have it now. You’re the second son, aren’t you?”
The insult had nothing subtle about it, but instead of taking umbrage, Lyndhurst’s eyes sparked in delight, accepting the gauntlet as if it were a game. “Yes, I am and heartily wish I’d remained so. My advisors virtually ordered me to sell out when I inherited the title.”
“The army suited you?”
Although wearing ordinary clothes, Lyndhurst had the air of a military man, his coat and breeches a dull olive in contrast to his cream waistcoat, everything arranged with clean precision. As were his movements. “It did. The battleground I currently find myself on is far less well-defined.”
“And you like definition.”
Lyndhurst gave a grim smile. “Who does not?”
“Subtler minds, perhaps?” Blaize drew a diamond-encrusted snuffbox from his pocket and flicked it open with a practiced gesture of finger and thumb. After the briefest of hesitations, he offered Lyndhurst a pinch. The pause didn’t go unnoticed.
Lyndhurst glanced at Blaize’s face before he shook his head. “Thank you, I prefer my own blend.”
Blaize helped himself, taking snuff with such a graceful gesture, Aurelia’s attention remained on him. He smiled. “I take it you don’t indulge?”
She shuddered in revulsion. “No, thank you.” She’d tried it once, stealing a pinch from the box her brother kept in his study. Disgusting. She hadn’t stopped sneezing for an hour. Some women took it, but she was not one of them. Blaize’s fond smile indicated an intimacy that took her back to the scene in the pavilion. Meant for the others to see, probably, but that didn’t stop her smiling back.
A moment of intimacy passed between them, even in this crowded space. The ballroom had filled up since they’d left. Already comfortably full, now the affair threatened to become a sad squeeze—in short, a triumph. For a first ball, her mother had handled it beautifully, managing to get a date early in the Season that was crammed with rival events. Only three tonight.
“You wish to dance, Lady Aurelia?” Lyndhurst sounded smug, and the implied intimacy of using her given name indicated a familiarity Blaize shouldn’t have won yet. Even if he had. Curtsying, she gave the correct response and went with him.
He was handsome, attentive, and he had her mother’s blessing. What more could she want than Lyndhurst, who was showing a decided partiality for her? Her gaze strayed to the corner of the ballroom where Blaize stood, silently watching, his lips compressed into a tight line.
She wanted him.
Chapter Two
Dressed in frivolous sky-blue, a colour that defied the grimy streets of London to spoil it, Stretton stood at the entrance to Aurelia’s mother’
s drawing room and gave Aurelia a private smile before turning his greeting to a public one. The light in his eyes disappeared as he turned his attention to the company.
“Good day.” He bowed, a perfect sweep of his arm delineating his expensively clad form, his trim figure.
While they didn’t actually draw in their skirts, the mamas attending this “at home” responded frostily. All except one, who smiled at him from below sultry eyelids. An ex-lover, one whose possessiveness had eventually grown too much to bear. He ignored her, merely stopping to exchange pleasantries with one of the women who hadn’t greeted him warmly. He took no notice of her daughter, or no more than he had to, and rose to smile at someone else as he slowly made his way across the room.
Lyndhurst, who was sitting next to Aurelia, growled under his breath. “You were saying, sir?” she asked, just as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Do not encourage Stretton,” he murmured. “He’s dangerous.”
Flicking out her fan, she plied it gracefully, trying not to show the evidence that she needed it. The day was not particularly warm, but her face felt hot. “He doesn’t look dangerous to me.”
“But he is. You must be aware of his reputation.”
Back in control of herself now, apart from a rapidly beating heart, she answered him. “Reputations are not certain, are they? What if you find a significant difference between the stories and the person himself?”
“Then I would expect you to take great care. I would expect your friends to attempt to take care of you.”
Instead of protection, Aurelia had the strong impression of bars closing around her, making it impossible for her to escape. Would Lyndhurst prove a restrictive husband? Because she had no doubt that was where he was heading. Yes, he would. His attentions to her in Scotland and now here, flattering as they were, also demonstrated his intent beyond words.
Aurelia didn’t have the forthright manner of many young women of her acquaintance. Histrionics distressed her as much as the person deploying them. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t face unpleasantness to get what she wanted—what she felt she deserved. That was why she’d faced so much. However, she’d prefer not to face them in her marriage. She refused to accept it.
Mad for Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 2 Page 2
