by Anthology
He caught her as she reached the door and pulled her toward him. The scent of jasmine teased his senses, stirring him as it always did when she was near. She stared at him, her disdain evident in her features.
“I’ll take the case.”
“You will?” she said, surprise lighting her eyes.
“Yes.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She stared at his lips for a moment, then raised her gaze to his and licked her lips.
As an investigator, he gathered a great deal about people through observation. Despite her avoidance of him and fleeing when the chance availed itself, she was attracted to him. He’d imagined many a time what she would taste like, but she always pushed him away. The opportunity had never presented itself either. Until now.
He reached up and traced her cheek. Her breathing quickened, and her ample breasts rose and fell with each breath. The exposed skin above the gown flushed to a deep pink. Taking a huge chance, he stroked his hand down along her neck then along the edge of the bodice, skimming the soft mounds of her breasts. When she mewled, he cupped her breast and stroked the peak with his thumb.
He met her gaze, half expecting her to push him away. But, instead, she drew closer, arching her breast into his palm.
With a low growl, he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his. He felt her hesitation, then her surrender to his kiss. As suspected, Lady Olivia was passionate, and he was thrilled to have that passion directed at him.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth. His tongue met hers, and she moaned. His blood raced, and he drew her closer, longing to feel her soft curves against his body. Her thighs brushed against his erection, and he groaned.
Henry was quickly losing control. If he didn’t put some distance between them soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He pulled away, but Olivia wrapped her hands around the back of his head, digging her fingers into his hair as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. With a simple move, she’d made his escape impossible.
He pushed the spencer off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, and then tugged on the bodice of her gown until her breasts were exposed. She trembled as he laved one of the rosy peaks with his tongue while he rubbed his thumb across the other.
“Branson,” Olivia said. The sensations Branson’s hands and mouth brought forth from her body were unlike anything she’d felt before. She never knew a man’s touch could affect her so. That first time had ended so horribly.
She arched her back as he trailed kisses from one breast to the other and began to lave it as he had the first.
His arousal pressed against her stomach, and she rubbed against it, eliciting a groan from Branson.
Things were progressing too fast, and she knew she should end it, but a part of her wanted to know if she could derive pleasure from the sexual act.
She gasped as Branson ran his hand along her inner thigh. She was in such a haze of desire and need she hadn’t noticed the hem of her gown being lifted.
His finger rubbed against her nub, and she trembled. He claimed her mouth in a kiss as he stroked her. She thrust her hips in tune with movement of his hand, and tension built in the lower part of her belly.
Another moan escaped her, deeper this time, and Branson increased his pace. Gripping his shoulders tightly as her legs no longer felt able to hold her weight, she wished the moment would not end. That her time in the arms of this man wouldn’t have to end.
There was a knock at the door, and Branson pulled away.
Olivia’s hands shook as she frantically tugged her gown into place. Except for the swollen lips and flushed complexion, she was again the aloof woman.
Branson cleared his throat and took some steps away from Olivia to create a respectable distance. He faced the door. “Come in.”
“Sir, Mr. Hopson is here to see you.” The butler glanced at Olivia. “I took the liberty of taking him to your study to await you.”
Olivia turned to him with widened eyes. “I can’t be seen here alone with you.”
“Do not concern yourself. Owens, have my carriage prepared and take precautions to make sure no one sees Lady Olivia leave the residence.”
“Yes, sir,” the butler said before leaving to fulfill his requests.
Branson approached Olivia and enveloped her hands with his own. “Owens will collect you once the carriage is ready.” He leaned toward her, unable to resist another taste of her lips before meeting with Mr. Hopson.
Olivia frowned, pulled her hands out of his grasp, and took a step back. “Thank you. And thank you for taking on the case.”
He drew his lips into a thin line. She was formal and aloof again. Back to the Olivia that kept him at a distance.
He moved toward the door, stopping in front of it and glanced back at her. “I must see to Mr. Hopson. I will begin my investigation and call upon you when I have gathered enough information.” He exited the room and closed the door, not waiting for Olivia to respond.
Olivia stared at the closed door. She pressed a hand to her lips. He’d wanted to kiss her again, and she’d managed to pull away. But, oh, how she’d wanted to feel his lips against hers. As soon as his lips had brushed across hers the first time she’d felt a deep yearning awaken. If the butler hadn’t interrupted, she’d willingly have given him everything.
Then he would learn that she wasn’t a virgin and look down upon her—reject her. She clenched her fists. She couldn’t lose control like that again, ever, especially with a rogue like him. Such things only led to disappointment and pain.
When he came to call on her, she would make sure to have her sister, Anne, present. She could not risk being alone with him again.
* * *
Henry rubbed a hand across his face. He still didn’t know what had possessed him to allow Lady Olivia to come along. Her black bombazine gown rustled with every step she took beside him.
“Couldn’t you have worn something a bit more…practical? Something that would not announce our arrival from a mile away? You should’ve changed as I requested.”
“You said we only had a few hours to search the room. I did not intend to spend what little precious time we have locating something else to wear.” She waved a hand in the air. “Besides, it was difficult enough to obtain my sister’s widow’s garbs without getting caught.”
Branson had met her at the rear of Lady Salfordton’s home. She’d told her father she would be spending the night with her sister since it would be difficult to escape her father’s home without being noticed. Fortunately, Lord Comstock lived nearby. Branson led her along the mews and less busy streets until they reached the rear garden gate.
He opened the gate and stepped aside to let Olivia through. The hint of jasmine assailed him as she walked past him. He shook away the image of Olivia naked on his bed the scent brought to mind.
He quietly locked the gate and tugged her behind a hedge. Although the light from the crescent moon lent little light to the garden, lanterns lit the paths that meandered throughout the grounds. Listening for the sounds of guests who might be wandering the garden, he scanned the area for servants and guests. The information he’d gathered indicated the old earl would not be at his residence tonight, but the lit lanterns contradicted that. What if the earl had decided to remain in his residence and host guests instead?
After being satisfied no one was about, he grabbed Olivia’s hand and led her toward the back of the manor. The feel of her hand in his sped his heart. He longed to wrap his arms around her and cover her lips with his.
She crashed into him when she stumbled on some unseen obstacle. He steadied her to keep her from falling, bringing her body up to his.
“Are you all right?” His lips nearly brushed hers as he said the words, causing his blood to pound and his body to become aroused.
“Yes, I am,” she said. Her breath mingled with his in the dim light.
For a moment, so brief he thought he’d imagined it, she smoothed her hands over his
chest before pushing against it.
“I’m all right,” she repeated. She ran her gloved hands along her skirts.
“Perhaps you should wait here.”
“We’ve already discussed this. Many eye miniatures look similar. You’ll have a difficult time knowing whether you have found the one that belongs to me.”
He couldn’t argue with her on that point, which was one of the reasons he’d allowed her to join him. The other main reason was the opportunity to be alone with her again.
He studied the back of the house and noted the window to the library had been left open. When he’d finagled an invite to the earl’s home the previous week, he’d taken every chance to note the layout of the manor. The earl had also given him a tour. After expressing feigned interest in art and eye miniatures, the earl had conveniently taken him to his collection room.
“We’ll go in through the library window.”
“What? You want me to climb in through the window?” Olivia whispered furiously.
“Did you expect to get in through the front door and ask the butler whether you can view Lord Comstock’s collection for a stolen item?”
Olivia huffed and glared. “Let’s get this done.”
“Stay close to me.”
They crouched by the open window. The room had a few lit candles scattered throughout. It was enough light to be assured no one was in the room.
“Reach for the windowsill, and I’ll help you get inside.”
Olivia did as he requested, going on her toes to grab a hold of the window.
He clasped his hands together to create a foothold. “Place your foot here and I’ll lift you up.”
She looked up at the window then his hands and raised an eyebrow, as if doubting his plan. But, she put her foot in his hands and he lifted, pushing her up. Olivia scrambled the rest of the way into the room then poked her head out to peer down at him.
“I’m coming in.” He grabbed hold of the edge and lifted himself into the room.
Henry looked about the room. There was something not quite right about this venture. Everything had been easy—too easy. The lit garden. The open window. The candles in the library. He shrugged. Nothing for it but to continue and hope their luck didn’t run out.
He approached the closed door, careful to not make any noise, and opened it a crack and listened. No sounds came from the corridor. He opened the door farther and glanced down both sides. All was quiet. He pointed toward the right. “The collection room is this way,” he whispered.
Olivia nodded.
They made their way toward the room, Olivia remaining close behind him. Though her steps made no sound, her gown swished rather loudly in the silence. Henry winced. Too late to do anything about the gown now.
The double doors to the collection room were open. When he’d visited Lord Comstock and had been shown the room, it had been locked. Was this a setup? Henry glanced behind his shoulder, peering into the dimly lit corridor. Henry felt uneasy.
Olivia had entered the room. “There’s no one in here. Come, Mr. Branson.”
Henry followed her in and closed the door behind him. He walked to a tall oak chest with a set of shallow drawers. “This is where he keeps the—”
“Let me look.” Olivia propped a candle on top of the tall chest and opened the top drawer. Frowning, she closed it and opened the next. After opening and examining all the drawers, Olivia placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not in the chest.”
She glanced around the room and moved to a curio cabinet. Henry proceeded to open other drawers and cabinet doors as well. There were no more eye miniatures to be found in the rest of the room.
“It’s not here,” Olivia said, unshed tears glistening in the candlelight.
Henry sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry we didn’t find it, but we should leave. The hour is getting late, and the earl is likely to return at any moment.”
Henry slowly opened the door and peered out. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”
* * *
Olivia moved onto the terrace and squinted into the darkness. The missive from Mr. Branson stated that he’d be waiting for her outside her sister’s house at midnight. Not seeing him from her vantage point, she took the steps down and walked along the path.
“Hello?” she whispered.
“Over here,” he called out from her right.
She made out his figure in the near darkness and approached him. The scent of his sandalwood cologne surrounded her. “What is it, Mr. Branson? The missive said it was important.”
“It is important, but first—” He grasped her hand and pulled her close. “Mr. Branson is too formal given all that has transpired between us. Call me Henry.”
Olivia’s heart rate sped at the memory of Henry’s lips on hers and his touch in his drawing room not two weeks ago. She gazed up at him and licked her lips, wanting him to kiss her again.
He stared at her in the semi-darkness, his eyes glinting with desire. Yet, although he held her close, he didn’t make any move to kiss her.
“Henry.” His Christian name on her lips gave her a little thrill. She rose up on her toes bringing her lips close to his. “Henry,” she repeated.
Henry gave a low growl and seized her lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her body up against his. He ran his hand through her hair, dislodging the pins that her maid had meticulously placed. His erection pressed against her belly, and she felt an answering throb within her. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, savoring the feel of his tongue stroking hers.
Henry pulled at the front of her gown to uncover her breasts. When his lips covered one sensitive peak while he stroked the other with his thumb, Olivia gasped and clasped his shoulders for support.
He angled her so her back was against the tree and began to lift her skirts. Cool air touched her heated skin that quickly warmed under his touch. Olivia reached toward the front of his falls and caressed his cock through the fabric.
Henry hissed. “You don’t realize what you do to me.”
Olivia trailed kisses along his jaw and neck in response as she worked on the buttons to his breeches. Once the last button was freed, she wrapped her hand around his erection.
“Olivia.” Henry panted. “We have to stop.”
Impossible. She wanted to experience true passion and pleasure at least once in her life. “No, I don’t want you to stop.”
She dragged her hands across Henry’s back, feeling the tension in his body.
Henry buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Are you certain? I can still stop.”
“I’m certain.”
He positioned himself at her entrance. “I’m sorry. This hurts the first time.” He thrust his penis into her and froze at discovering the lack of a barrier.
Olivia held her breath and stared at Henry—waiting for the rejection to come. After all, what man would want a ruined woman when the one whom she’d given her virginity to hadn’t wanted her?
Henry met her gaze then captured her lips in a kiss as he plunged into her. Olivia moaned and met each thrust. She cried out when she’d reached her climax. Henry thrust a few more times and spilled his seed within her.
Now, the rejection will come, Olivia thought.
But Henry continued to hold her close, smoothing the hair off her face and trailing a path from her forehead to her cheek with his lips before claiming her mouth in another searing kiss.
He lifted his head to gaze at her. “Olivia, darling, will you be my wife?”
Olivia’s breath faltered. She turned her face away. “You would marry me even if I-I’m n-no longer…” Her throat tightened, allowing no further words to pass.
He framed her face with his hands. “Olivia,”—he tilted her face, forcing her to meet his intense blue gaze—“I love you. Your lack of virginity is of no consequence.”
A sob ripped out of Olivia as the years of bottled shame spilled out. She buried her head against his chest, the warmth of his body and the scent
of sandalwood providing comfort and security, even as her body continued to tremble with the release of emotions.
“I don’t go around doing this, Henry.”
“I know.”
“I b-believed myself in love with Lord Minett at nineteen. He’d lured me in with beautiful words. H-He’d made me believe he held the same deep regard. But he’d only wanted to find out what deflowering a woman would be like, and I’d been the naive, foolish girl he’d targeted for the purpose.” Another sob shook her body.
Henry held her in his arms, whispering soothing words in her ear. Once Olivia had calmed, he helped her fix her gown and hair as best he could. Henry placed his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t ask you to meet me just to lift your skirts. I need to tell you that I found your miniature.”
“You did? W-Where did you find it? Who—?”
Henry sighed and handed over the miniature. “Your sister.”
The breath whooshed out of Olivia. Her sister had taken it? “No, Anne would never do such a thing. We must straighten this out at once.”
Olivia marched toward the house, clasping the miniature so tightly it dug into her palm. She entered through the back of the home with Henry following. They found Anne sitting in a settee.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Is it true? Did you take the eye miniature?” Olivia asked.
Anne stood and took a few steps before pausing to face Olivia. “Yes, I did. And, Mr. Branson, I left the miniature behind for you to find earlier today when you had come by to provide Olivia with an update.”
Henry raked his hand through his hair. “Do you realize the great risk I took to your sister’s reputation when she accompanied me to go through Lord Comstock’s collection?”
“There was no risk. Lord Comstock was fully aware of what was happening.”
“But, why?” Olivia’s body shook at the betrayal.
Anne returned her gaze to Olivia. “My dearest sister, I have seen how you and Mr. Branson look at each other when you think no one is watching. For years. So I came up with the plan to bring the two of you together. Judging from your disheveled appearance, I’d say my plan was successful.”
