“And you are a fine gentleman, we suppose,” Ida stated, “but Eleanor does not love you.” At which point Eleanor winced, since Ida’s tone was her usual condescending one.
“So have you thought of a way to extricate yourself from the situation?” Lord Carson didn’t sound piqued, which made Eleanor contrarily irritated. If a gentleman discovered he was not the person a young lady wished to marry he should at least be a little disheartened by it. He sounded matter-of-fact. As though all of his business dealings had made him far too . . . businesslike.
“No, we haven’t,” Olivia replied.
All the sisters looked downcast.
“Well, she can’t jilt me,” Lord Carson said, tilting his head to look at Eleanor. “That would be as scandalous as your sister’s behavior. Especially if you jilt me for my brother.”
Oh, so he did know already. That made her feel somewhat better about his matter-of-factness at discovering she didn’t want to marry him.
“What should we do then?” Ida asked. As though she were truly asking, and not just assuming she had the answer and no one else did.
Lord Carson shrugged, looking at each of the sisters in turn.
“We should discuss it.” Alexander took Eleanor’s hand again, and four pairs of eyes tracked the movement. “All of us. I know, for example, that Ida is extremely intelligent, and my own brother is very good at negotiation. If we all put our heads together, perhaps we can figure something out.”
“We can’t discuss it here, however,” Eleanor replied. “We have to be back to—” But she couldn’t say she had to go to the dressmaker’s to see about her wedding gown since she’d just announced she would not be getting married. At least not to Lord Carson.
“The bookshop,” Alexander said suddenly. Eleanor started guiltily. Was he about to announce just where they’d realized how they felt about one another—and what they had done?
“What bookshop?” Olivia asked.
“Mr. Woodson’s shop. We can meet there to discuss it tomorrow,” Alexander said.
Oh. Of course. That would be a good place to have a discreet meeting. As she well knew.
“Good idea,” Lord Carson replied. “How about we meet there in the afternoon? Say around three o’clock?”
Eleanor’s sisters all murmured their assent, making her heart swell with love. She was so lucky to have these people in her life, people who could be annoying (Olivia), pedantic (Ida), and quiet (Pearl), but who ultimately loved her and wanted her to be happy, no matter how it might affect them.
And him. He was still looking at her. It felt as though he hadn’t taken his eyes off her since he’d walked her out here. He loved her. He’d said it, even after she’d called him a lummox.
She was well and truly overwhelmed. By love. By him.
Lady Eleanor’s Good List for Being Bad:
Stand up for yourself.
Chapter 23
“Are we all here, then?” Eleanor nodded to Ida, who shut the door.
It was ten minutes past three, and the four sisters plus the two Carson brothers were packed into the small room where—well, she couldn’t think of it without blushing, so she wouldn’t, but it was the same place she and Alexander had worked on the translations.
And done other things.
“What are we going to do?” Olivia said in a plaintive voice. Sometimes—though not very often—Eleanor forgot how young she was. Not now, however. Now she sounded as though she was complaining about not getting any dessert.
As opposed to complaining she was going to have to accept the very pleasant gentleman as a husband.
“There’s nothing for any of you to do,” Alex said. He looked at Eleanor as he spoke, and she couldn’t repress a shiver. He was just so—so tall, and authoritative, and she couldn’t see anybody but him when he was in the room. Not just because he towered over everyone else.
Although yes, partially that.
“I am going to speak to our father,” he continued. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking nearly ferocious. “I have a few ideas of how I can convince him to dissolve the agreement between our families so that Eleanor—and Bennett, of course—are free to make their own choices.” He met her gaze. “And hear some other options.” Oh, well now she was going to melt all over again.
“What are you going to say? Are you certain you don’t wish me—” Bennett began, only to stop as Alex shook his head decisively.
“Remember how all of this began?” he asked, shooting Eleanor a conspiratorial look. “You wanted me to persuade Lady Eleanor that you would be a good husband.”
“And look how well that turned out,” Lord Carson said, grinning.
“Yes, well.” Alexander’s tone held a hint of embarrassment. “The thing is, you asked me to speak to Lady Eleanor because I can convince anyone of anything, usually.”
“You can convince ladies of anything,” Lord Carson corrected. “Not necessarily our father.”
“Is he as—as father-like as our father?” Olivia asked.
Lord Carson chuckled, making Olivia blush and look down at the floor. Eleanor hoped she would grow out of this infatuation. Lord Carson was far too serious, and too busy, to indulge Olivia’s fancies.
“I don’t have the pleasure of being very well-acquainted with the duke, but yes, he is father-like.”
“If father-like means being set in his opinions, convinced he is always right, and belligerent when you argue with him,” Alexander added.
“Oh, like Ida!” Pearl exclaimed, then clapped her hand over her mouth.
Eleanor had to stifle a snort. Ida glowered at her sister.
“But even so, I have a plan for what I can say to convince him. And if I can’t? Then we’ll have to cause a scandal of some sort.”
“Hold on, now,” Bennett said, holding his hand up. “There was no mention of scandal.”
“And hopefully there won’t be. But nothing is more important than this engagement, this marriage, not happening as planned. Is there?” And Alexander stared his brother down, making Eleanor wish she could applaud and cheer “Bravo!” As though she didn’t want to do that most times when she was in his company.
“And I will speak to Mother,” Eleanor announced. The sisters all turned and looked at her. “I want her to know she can’t just manipulate her daughters into doing what she wants, just because one of us did something she most definitely did not want. This is for the greater sisterly good, I promise,” she said, holding her hand up to forestall objections. Ida’s mouth snapped shut, and Olivia heaved an exasperated sigh, whereas Pearl just nodded solemnly. “And then I will tell Father.”
That would be even more difficult than speaking with her mother, but it had to be done as well.
Which made her think, of course, of Della. Della, who she had to figure out how to rescue, but she couldn’t do any of that until she’d rescued herself.
“So we have our marching orders?” Alexander glanced around the room. “I’ll speak to our father, and Lady Eleanor will speak to your parents. And then we will all be free to make our own choices.” And he met Eleanor’s gaze again, a dark promise in his eyes.
Everyone in the room nodded, beginning to move to the door.
“Lady Eleanor.” She snapped her head around at his voice. “May I see you home in my carriage? I wish to—to strategize with you.”
At which point everyone else in the room pointedly looked away, as though aware that was just an excuse, and a lame one at that, but none of them was willing to point it out.
“Yes, thank you, my lord. That would be lovely,” Eleanor replied.
Strategize. Is that what he called it? She smiled as her sisters and Lord Carson left the room, leaving them alone. In their room, right near the table where they’d—
“I am going to take you home,” he said, raising a brow as he looked at her. Was she that obvious?
Well, she supposed she was when it came to him.
“In your large carriage?” she asked, c
urling her lips up into a smile.
“In my very large carriage,” he repeated knowingly.
“Excellent.”
“What are you going to say?” she asked after he’d gotten her settled in the carriage and told his coachman how to drive home.
Not the most efficient way, his coachman had pointed out.
Exactly, Alex wanted to say.
He picked her hand up where it lay on the seat between them, bringing it up to his mouth. He placed his lips on the back of her hand and kissed it, then turned her palm around so he could kiss her wrist. He allowed himself to linger there, to lick the soft skin, feeling how her pulse sped up.
“I have a plan,” he replied. He didn’t want to spend this time, this precious time, going over how he might speak to his father. He wanted to savor every minute he could with her. He had no idea what would happen after this. After snatching back her and Bennett’s freedom. Would she listen to what he wanted for them? Would she agree to relinquish her independence just when she had won it back for herself?
“A plan,” she repeated, sounding doubtful.
“Yes,” he replied, “but I have another plan as well. One involving both of us now, in this carriage, with nothing but this moment. Do you prefer that idea?”
He could almost hear her smile. “I do.”
“Good. Let us just be, just for this moment. Knowing that I love you, and that you love me.”
“Oh,” she said in a soft voice. “Oh, that sounds wonderful.” He could hear the desire in her tone, feel how her fingers tightened on his wrist where he held her.
“And then? What happens then?”
Of course she asked. She wouldn’t be Eleanor, determined to make her own way Eleanor, without wondering what the future might hold.
“Then, when we have done what we have to, both of us, then I will ask you something that you are free to answer however you wish. But until then,” he continued, licking her index finger, hearing how she sharply inhaled, “I don’t think we should speak.” Because if he did continue to talk, all he thought he could manage were a few more “I love you”s. And he could show her so much better than he could say it.
“Oh,” she said on a sigh as he drew her finger into his mouth and sucked gently. She moved restlessly, as though she wanted to move, and he chuckled and drew her onto his lap. Directly on top of his cock, which welcomed the pressure.
“What do you want at this very moment, Eleanor?” he whispered in her ear, the rocking of the carriage making for a delicious friction.
“I want you to—” she began, only to shake her head and bury her face in his neck. “I want you,” she whispered in his ear, her breath sending skitters of sensation through his whole body.
“Excellent. I want just the same thing.” And he twisted her so they were both facing the back of the carriage, her bottom snugly on his erection, her hands on the outside of his thighs holding herself steady.
He placed his hands at her waist and drew her in closer, her whole back leaning against his chest, her head nestled on his shoulder. He kissed the juncture of her neck and tightened his hold on her, sliding his fingers around to her front to just under her breasts. He could feel how she was breathing faster, and he let his fingers tease her just there, just where he could feel the swell and curve of her.
“Please,” she said in a moan, and he chuckled as he licked her skin.
“Please what?” He wanted her to say it, to admit her desires. To say what would overwhelm her.
“Please touch me,” she said, and she drew her hands up to place them on top of his, moving his palms directly on top of her breasts. “Please,” she continued, arching her back so her breasts were firmly in his grip. “Like Angelique and Medor.”
Oh, he recalled that particular picture. Medor holding his lady in front of him as he penetrated her. That she had paid attention, that she wanted the same thing—well, that was more proof that she was for him. That she wanted to explore, and investigate, and be overwhelmed. And find her joy, as he had found joy with her.
He had said he wouldn’t speak, not now. But he could show her how he felt. “As you wish, Angelique,” he said, beginning to move his fingers. He could feel the sharp stab of her nipples, already erect and begging for his touch, which he was more than glad to offer.
He drew his fingers up to the edge of her gown, sliding his index finger down between the fabrics of her layers and her skin. She moaned, and he put his other hand to her back, nudging her forward so he could undo her buttons.
He worked swiftly, glad he was dexterous enough to undress her while not stopping his caressing of her breasts. Dear lord, they felt wonderful in his hand, and he heard his breathing quicken as he ran his fingertips over her tight little bud and felt the heft and swell of her breast in his palm.
He got the buttons undone and removed his hand from her bodice, making her utter a disappointed noise. He slid the sleeves of her gown down her arms, drawing the fabric down to her waist. She wore her corset and shift, and there was much more of her skin available to his mouth. He leaned forward, his hands going to her corset to untie the laces, his mouth moving over the skin on her upper back, licking her spine and feeling her shudder under his lips.
“You like that?” he asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her pleasure.
“Oh yes,” she replied, wriggling on his lap. She placed her palms back on his legs and slid them up and down, making him burn for her to touch him there. Put her delicate fingers on his cock, stroking his hard length, getting overwhelmed—in a good way—again.
“Take this off,” she commanded, shrugging her shoulders to indicate the corset.
“With pleasure,” he replied, removing the garment from her body and putting it on the seat next to them.
Now she was only in her shift, and it was easy to place his hands on her breasts again, his lips at the nape of her neck, his fingers kneading her nipples and caressing the soft fullness of her breasts.
“Touch me,” she said, nearly in a growl, and he grinned against her skin. He put his long arms on her legs and began to draw her shift up to join where her gown was gathered at her waist.
“Are you wet for me, Eleanor?” he asked before putting his fingers just there on her mound, his index finger finding her sweet little nub and making her gasp, arching her back again, which caused another round of delicious friction on his cock.
“You are,” he answered, sliding his finger inside her heat. He kept his thumb on that button of pleasure, setting a rhythm that made her moan.
His cock was impossibly hard now, thrusting against her soft bottom, throbbing as his fingers kept moving.
“Oh,” she moaned, and she dropped her head down, her hair coming undone, her whole self lusciously disheveled. He increased the pressure and the speed of his hand, and he felt when she began to climax, the walls of her entrance tightening around his finger, her breathing coming faster and faster as she cried out in pleasure.
It felt as though she came forever, and he held his breath as he felt how she moaned, her soft, breathy sighs going straight to his erection until at last she stilled, leaning back against his chest, her chest rising and falling with her still rapid breathing.
“That was . . . overwhelming,” she said in an amused tone of voice.
“It was more than that,” he said, unable to resist thrusting up against her body.
“And what about you?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him.
“Well, I have a few ideas, since my coachman seems to be taking the long way home,” he replied with a smirk.
“Do tell,” she said, wriggling on his lap.
“Let me show you,” he said, grasping her waist.
Lady Eleanor’s Good List for Being Bad:
Definitely take the long way home.
Chapter 24
She felt glorious. There was no other word for it.
Well, perhaps overwhelmed also. In an entirely glorious way.
She al
lowed him to push her off his lap, his hand low across her belly holding her up. She bent forward and heard his grunts as he presumably removed his jacket. How had she not insisted he get undressed also?
Oh, because she was too busy feeling gloriously overwhelmed by his clever fingers and how the passion felt as though it was sizzling through her skin.
“Hold on to the opposite seat,” he commanded, and she bent lower, grabbing the top of the seat and turning her head back to look at him.
There was enough light outside for her to make out that yes, his jacket was off, his cravat was off, and he had undone some of the buttons on his shirt. She could see the taut muscle of his chest. She wished she could turn around and put her mouth just there, right on his nipple, and lick it.
His hands were at the waistband of his trousers, and as she watched, he shimmied them down so his pants were below there, right where he jutted hugely out.
That thing had been inside her already. She knew it fit—she just couldn’t imagine how, even after it had actually happened.
His eyelids were heavy-lidded, looking at her bottom, and she shifted her hips, making his eyes widen.
“Vixen,” he said, half standing in the carriage, putting one hand at her waist again and placing the other hand on top of hers.
“Hercules,” she replied with a smirk.
He let go of her waist and he drew his hand back, and she felt him there, at her entrance.
It felt wonderfully sinful and wrong, to have him behind her like this, both of them half-clothed, the crucial parts exposed.
“Mmm,” he said as she felt the head of him push inside just a bit. “Relax, Eleanor,” he urged. “Think of how good it will feel when I am inside you. Filling you. Fucking you in this carriage as the world goes about its business without knowing you and I are in here doing this.”
His words, his blunt, sexual words, made her nipples tighten all over again, warming her just there where she’d spasmed under his hand.
Lady Be Bad Page 22
