An Illicit Indiscretion (A Sinful Regency Christmas)

by Scott, Bronwyn

  Dashiell laughed and picked up a sandwich, settling into one of Sir Richard’s old overstuffed chairs. ‘A man can cook, you know, especially if he doesn’t have to fire the oven.’

  He was entirely masculine in that moment, sprawled in the chair, feet kicked up on one of Sir Richard’s much used hassocks. His coat had come off at some point, as had his waistcoat and cravat. When she’d met him he’d been dressed for dinner in London. Now, he was down to his trousers and a white linen shirt undone at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves. It occurred to her that his clothes had come off while she’d been busy watching the skies and she’d missed it.

  Dashiell made an expansive gesture to include the room. ‘So this is what you climbed out the window for?’

  ‘Yes.’ Elisabeth took a sandwich and pulled up another hassock.

  ‘Was it worth it?’ Blue eyes the colour of an English summer sky studied her intently.

  He wasn’t only asking about the comet. The heat she’d felt in the carriage rushed back.

  ‘Yes.’ Elisabeth swallowed, trying not to focus overmuch on his lips and finding it hard not to. ‘I haven’t spotted the comet yet, but perhaps later in the evening it will be more visible. The reports of the comet in August said visibility was better towards the end of astronomical twilight.’ It had to be. She’d risked too much, come too far, for it to be otherwise.

  ‘Astronomical twilight?’ Dashiell’s mouth quirked upwards in a half smile. ‘You’re adding to my vocabulary by the minute. First perihelion and now this.’

  ‘Astronomical twilight refers to the time right after sunset and right before sunrise,’

  Elisabeth told him between bites of sandwich. She reached for another. She was hungrier than she’d realized while she’d worked. Of course, she was starting to recall that she’d skipped dinner.

  ‘And perihelion?’ Dashiell pressed.

  ‘Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?’ Elisabeth queried.

  ‘I want to know.’

  ‘Perihelion refers to the point at which a comet makes its closest pass to the sun. It also marks the beginning of the comet’s return journey past earth. The comet’s brighter, easier to see because…’ Elisabeth paused and gave a laugh. ‘I’d better stop there. I can go on for hours about stars and comets. You don’t want to hear all that.’

  Dashiell leaned forward. ‘What makes you think that?’

  Elisabeth tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly a little less bold. ‘Men haven’t been much interested in the past when the subject has come up,’ she said truthfully.

  ‘Where’s Sir Richard?’

  ‘He went to bed. He said something about having been up for two days straight.’

  Dashiell rose and brushed the crumbs from his trousers. ‘You’re stuck with me as an assistant, I’m afraid.’ He walked towards the eighteen foot telescope where it angled up through the open roof and looked back at her. ‘Are you going to show me how to use this thing?’

  Lucifer’s stones, how he wanted her. Dashiell bent his head to the eyepiece of the telescope as he’d seen her do, conscious of her hands guiding his shoulders into position, angling his body for the best view of the stars. He wanted those hands elsewhere on him. She excited both his mind and his body.

  Since they’d stepped inside the observatory, he’d become utterly fascinated by her in a way that transcended the sexual but unfortunately for him, didn’t diminish that desire. He was watching passion incarnate; a passion for life, a passion for something that defined her raison d’être. Dashiell was envious.

  What must it be like to have that level of commitment for something? Dashiell knew for himself, he’d never had it. He’d wandered through Oxford, aimless, dabbling in literature and the humanities. He’d wenched his way through a near decade of Seasons earning a reputation as an exciting lover but to no end. In sum, in all his twenty-nine years, he’d never been inspired to climb out of a window for anyone or anything. He wasn’t alone. There were plenty of others in the bored world of London Society who’d felt no compunction for anything beyond their wardrobes. Elisabeth’s passion for her subject was a rare quality to find and he wanted to devour it, wanted to hope that if he stayed in her orbit, her fire might singe him as well.

  ‘Tell me what I’m looking at,’ Dashiell murmured. The night was blotchy with inky clouds. Only the brightest stars shone through the opaque night sky.

  ‘Do you see the star to the right? That’s Polaris, the North Star, the brightest star in the sky.’

  ‘The sailor’s star.’ Dashiell knew that much at least.

  ‘Yes, from there, move your gaze upwards, you can see Orion, the hunter. There are three stars in a row that make up his belt.’

  Her voice was low, almost sultry. The way she’d said ‘Orion’s belt’ struck him as intimately provocative. The lesson had changed to something else. Did she realize it? If he took her in his arms, would she respond as she had in the carriage or would she throw him over for the universe that waited just beyond the telescope lens?

  ‘Do you see a star to the south of Alpha tauri?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Maybe, it’s hard to tell. There’s a faint glimmer occasionally.’

  ‘That’s Beta tauri and that might be a good sign the skies are clearing.’ Elisabeth’s hands were at his waist this time, angling him to the left and swivelling the telescope but her hands suddenly left him and she murmured an apology.

  Dashiell stepped back from the scope. ‘Why did you stop?’

  Elisabeth blushed. ‘My conduct was not seemly. I got excited and I was too bold.’

  Dashiell gave her a slow smile, letting his eyes rest on her very kissable mouth. ‘I got excited, too. There’s no need to apologize, Elisabeth. I like your hands on me, and I’m a damn sight closer than Orion.’

  Chapter Five

  I like your hands on me. Elisabeth blushed again. There was no mistaking the intent of what he offered. He wanted her in the most intimate way possible. This was not part of a parlour game. This was a blatant invitation to act on the attraction that had sprung between them in the carriage. It was also clear he would not push her to accept an overture; he would not use seduction and the heat of the moment to coerce her submission against her better senses.

  This was to be her decision entirely. He was playing both the rake and the gentleman; the rake because he was asking in the first place and the gentleman because he fully understood the risk was all hers. Would she take it? In that moment, she knew she would.

  This step would be an irrevocable break from Society’s rules but then again, she’d never been one of ‘them,’ never followed those rules very well anyway. She would be a hypocrite to hide behind those rules now when she’d broken so many of them already tonight. On a more personal level, it would be the height of hypocrisy to deny that what she really wanted stood before her.

  She was fully cognizant, too, that her decision came with responsibility. She would have to make the first move. This powerfully attractive man with his dark hair and summer-blue eyes had put himself at her disposal. The thought was heady and empowering. Elisabeth moved her hands to his shirtfront, meeting his eyes with her own. There was something indefinably erotic about watching his face while she undressed him. Her fingers worked the buttons free in a deliberate descent that left her hands resting on the waistband of his trousers.

  His hands covered hers, warm and strong. ‘Wait,’ he whispered, his mouth nuzzling her neck, while he shoved his arms out of his shirt. He stepped back from her and her mouth dried. He was even more magnificent than he’d felt beneath her fingertips. Muscle corded his upper arms and defined his torso; masculine ridges and planes tapering to narrow hips and the treasure that lay between them.

  Dashiell bent down to remove his shoes, black pumps for evening with a silver buckle.

  ‘So much better than boots on occasion.’ He gave her a wicked smile as he straightened. No wonder people were tempted to sin. She had no idea a
man could look so beautiful beneath his clothes. It was a manly beauty, to be sure, a beauty vastly different in its nature than that ascribed to a woman. There was strength to it, and hardness, too, that bespoke confidence.

  ‘Are you ready to see more, Elisabeth?’ His voice issued the intimate invitation in sensual tones that made denial impossible. She could no more stop now than she could free the planets from their orbits. She was well and truly caught in the gravitational pull of his body’s promise.

  She wouldn’t have stopped even if she could have mustered the will. This choice wasn’t about rebelling against her parents, or even about rebelling against Society’s rules. It was about simply being Elisabeth Becket and Elisabeth Becket wanted this.

  Dashiell pushed his trousers down past his hips, giving a graceful kick out of them at the last that left him entirely naked to her gaze. For all her study of the stars and the dazzling sights of the universe, nothing could quite equal the mystery of ‘man revealed’ standing before her in all his aroused glory. Life’s macrocosmic origins might lie in the skies but its microcosm was right here, in him and in her.

  ‘Come here, Elisabeth.’ He reached for her, drawing her to him. It was shockingly easy how his mouth found hers as if they’d been lovers forever. Her arms were about his neck and she gave herself over to his kisses. She let his hands have their way with her clothes; the shirt, the trousers not terribly unlike his own, until she felt the cool air of the room on her bare skin. He bore her backwards to where the chair and hassock combined to make a nominal bed and followed her down, tugging her trousers over her calves and onto the floor.

  They were skin to skin, his body covering hers, offering its warmth. She had never done anything so decadent in her life and she revelled in it. Every touch of his seemed to bring her to life, to make her aware that all that had gone before this moment had been nothing, that she’d lived merely a half life, waiting just for this.

  His mouth was at her breast now, his tongue caressing her nipple into decadent arousal.

  The core of her burnt for him. She arched her hips against him out of instinct, urging, encouraging. There simply had to be more. If there wasn’t, she would die.

  Dashiell’s own breathing came in ragged pants as he rose up over her, bracing himself on the strength of those well-muscled arms and settling himself between her thighs with unerring accuracy. She felt him nudge the entrance to her core and then the first push into her, into completion.

  Above her, Dashiell hesitated, amazement on his face when his thrust met with resistance. He drew back infinitesimally, clearly surprised by the discovery of her innocence.

  ‘Elisabeth, are you sure?’

  She recognized the effort such an enquiry cost him. ‘I want it to be you,’ Elisabeth whispered. ‘Please, Dashiell.’

  Her body did not panic. He belonged there, joined with her. His mouth found hers, muffling the mixed sounds of surprise, of startlement, even relief that he was finally there, and an unfamiliar stab of pain.

  Dashiell stilled inside her, letting the pain pass and then he began a slow thrusting motion, sliding against the slick core of her. Her body joined his, hungry for a completion that waited just beyond the moment. Elisabeth brought her legs up, tightening them about his waist, drawing him deeper, holding him firmly.

  Her breath came hard, each thrust bringing her closer to the ultimate pleasure waiting on a nearing horizon. But she was desperate for it now. She couldn’t wait a moment longer, she simply couldn’t. Above her, Dashiell trembled with the effort, sweat beading his forehead, his dark hair falling across his brow.

  He gave a final thrust and she arched against him, lost to the overwhelming sensation of promise fulfilled. She had never imagined a feeling of this magnitude existed, that she could create it and recreate it. Elisabeth gave herself over to it, letting both body and mind shatter against the forces sweeping over her.

  Chapter Six

  Elisabeth was only aware she’d dozed off after the fact. She surfaced slowly from sleep, letting memory rouse her gently and buoy her back to the waking world. Dashiell had made love to her, Dashiell the exquisite stranger who’d found his way onto her mother’s guest list. The thought tugged a sleepy smile from her. Elisabeth reached out an arm, half searching for proof of Dashiell’s presence even though logic told her Sir Richard’s big chair wasn’t large enough for two nor was the quilt that had thoughtfully been draped over her.

  Sir Richard, the observatory…languid thoughts were now replaced by a rush of thoughts. The comet! Elisabeth sat up abruptly, panic taking her. After all this, had she missed it?

  The room was darker now than it had been. A few scattered lamps offered enough light to make out a form at the telescope, the white of a man’s shirt gleaming in the dimness. The sight of Dashiell, his eye bent to the telescope touched her in ways that went beyond the sex they’d shared. In her absence, he’d kept her vigil.

  ‘Any sign of it?’ Elisabeth wrapped the old quilt about her and padded across the floor, hoping and fearing Dashiell’s answer.

  Dashiell turned towards her and gave a shake of his head. ‘No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.’

  ‘How long have you been watching?’ If he’d fallen asleep, too, there would be a span of time where they could have missed the comet.

  ‘A couple hours, ever since you dozed off,’ Dashiell said gently. He nodded to indicate the pocket watch he’d left open on the table beside the telescope. ‘It’s nearly the end of astronomical twilight now. You’re a good teacher, Elisabeth.’ There was a soft intimacy to his voice; he spoke just for her although there was no one around to hear.

  Dashiell rose from the stool he’d pulled over to the telescope. ‘Have a peek, Elisabeth. I don’t think the skies ever cleared. Your comet’s up there but we can’t see it from here.’

  Elisabeth slid onto the stool, clutching the quilt about her and looked. Dashiell was right. The sky hadn’t cleared and soon it would be too late to see the comet until nightfall.

  Already, the horizon was turning grey, light starting to creep across the sky.

  She lowered her head and took a deep breath, trying to mitigate her disappointment.

  Dashiell’s hands were at her shoulders, massaging through the fabric of the quilt. He kissed the column of her neck. ‘I’m sorry we couldn’t find it. Another time, maybe?’

  Elisabeth shook her head. He was trying to comfort her but there was no relief in the knowledge she’d missed the comet. ‘The comet is on a seventy-six-year cycle. If I don’t spot it on this pass by earth, I’ll never spot it. If its usual rotation pattern holds true, the comet won’t return until 1910.’

  Dashiell’s hands slowed on her shoulders. She could nearly feel him thinking behind her. ‘How long is it visible this time? I know people have been sighting it since August.’

  ‘Typically it’s visible up to nine months before it leaves earth’s sightline. Of course, that all depends on your location in the world. That’s why John Hershel is in Cape Town with his enormous telescope. Astronomers believe the Southern Hemisphere has the best viewing opportunities.’ Elisabeth gave a harsh laugh. John Hershel might have the world’s largest telescope but the comet had eluded even him. He’d not been the first to sight it in August as everyone had predicted. That sighting had come from the Vatican further north. It had given her hope that she wouldn’t miss it entirely being stuck in Britain. Now that hope seemed thoroughly squashed.

  Her only alternative was to risk one more night away and try again, maybe this time from another location with clearer skies, some place closer to the sea. But the enormity of that possibility was overwhelming. She had not planned for this. She had no resources for getting somewhere else.

  Dashiell’s voice murmured seductively at her ear, echoing the alternative to go on.

  ‘Then we could see it tomorrow night, or the night after that.’ He squeezed her shoulders and she didn’t miss the reference to ‘we.’ What a wonderful fantasy that would be, to
chase comets with Dashiell beside her.

  ‘We’ made the improbable possible. He had a carriage; he would be protection against travelling alone. In an instant, the enormity of continuing with her quest had been reduced.

  Now it was merely up to her, just as it had been last night. Dashiell had given her the most powerful of gifts; the choice to truly decide her future for herself. It wasn’t only the items his offer provided that made it tempting but the man himself. There would be another night with Dashiell, and another and another. What they’d done last night didn’t have to end.

  That was the most potent argument of all, the one that swayed her to accept. Almost.

  She would have to decline. Well-bred girls didn’t gallivant around England looking for comets. Well-bred girls didn’t do a lot of the things she’d done since last night. She had to draw a line somewhere and this was it.

  ‘There cannot be another night for me.’ Elisabeth turned in his arms, twining her arms about his neck. ‘I gambled everything on this night and I lost.’ Her family would be aghast at what she’d done tonight and that was just the sneaking out part. They would never survive knowing about Dashiell. Yet she knew she would not trade one minute of this adventure to have it undone.

  Dashiell’s eyes darkened. ‘Then don’t go back. Come with me, Elisabeth. Let’s go hunt the comet together.’

  The words flowed out of his mouth before he had time to think. Madness had become the watchword since the moment he’d met her and this latest offer proved it. There would be hell to pay with his uncle. Deserting the dinner party paled in comparison to running off with a woman whom all he knew about her was her first name.

  No, that wasn’t true. He knew more than her name. Elisabeth was beautiful, intelligent, passionate, an intoxicating mixture of boldness and hesitant reserve. She’d come to him untried. He’d not been unaware of her virginity when he’d taken her. Surprised? Yes. He hadn’t expected it. Virgins didn’t climb out windows in trousers. But he’d recognized the moment when her pleasure had turned to brief pain. They would have to discuss that as well but first, he had to make sure she didn’t slip away entirely. The sun was coming up and she was anxious.