Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin

by Christine Merrill

  The plan was so very like his Dru that he smiled. ‘I do not think you were successful.’

  ‘I did not count on Priss,’ she said with a sad shake of her head. ‘But there was never anything between Gervaise and me. He did not care much for me. Nor did it matter to me how he felt, for I liked him no better.’

  ‘And the reason for your tears…’ He stared up at the ceiling, trying to fathom it. For her outpouring of emotion made no sense at all.

  ‘You were angry with him when you came to me. If you did what you did—’ she took a deep breath ‘…to punish him in some way, or to punish me for liking him…’

  ‘No, love. No.’ He put a finger to her lips to stop her nonsense.

  ‘Then it would not have worked. Perhaps, if you had gone to Priss instead. This morning, you seemed to prefer her. But I did not want that. And so I said nothing.’

  Now he felt near frantic with the truth of her feelings, and pushed himself away from her body. ‘Lady Drusilla, you misunderstand me as well. I would not have gone to your sister, in any case. That is not how it was at all. I had no wish to hurt her, to spite Gervaise. Nor to hurt you. And if, in what happened between us, I forced you to endure and not to enjoy…’ Now he felt sick, nauseous at the idea that he had forced himself on her, and that, to keep her sister safe from his clutches, she had said nothing.

  She gave a deep, gulping sob, clutching her hands to her mouth, her arms shielding her body from his gaze. ‘It is worse than that. I…I…enjoyed it. I wanted you to do what you did. Had wanted it for so long. But if you had known the truth, then I was afraid you might have stopped. So I waited until it was too late.’

  She was saying something else, but he could hardly hear her, what with the rushing blood in his ears at the relief. And so he seized her again and kissed her, stopping her prattle with his tongue and kissing her until sanity came back to him. Her mouth was salty from the taste of her tears. But given the least reason, she was kissing him eagerly back, thrusting her tongue into his mouth in unsure little forays, as though still afraid that he would reject her. When he pulled away from her, he said firmly, ‘Did you like that as well?’

  She gave a hesitant nod.

  ‘Then it is all settled between us. I had no intention of visiting your sister, either before or after. In fact, having met her, I am sorry, but there is nothing that could induce me to it.’

  ‘But this morning?’

  ‘Was a mistake.’ He searched delicately for a way to phrase it. ‘Your sister seems to have drawn the same conclusion as you did for my reasons to fight Mr Gervaise. But it was not in an effort to defend her honour so much as extreme frustration that such a worthless clod could have designs on you.’ He smoothed a hand down her side, feeling the rich promise of her hip through the fabric, wondering if he dared to do what he was thinking. ‘I will fight him again, if he comes back.’

  ‘That will not be necessary,’ she said absently. ‘But this morning…you said nothing to me. You could hardly bear to look at me.’

  ‘I did not dare, more like. Better for your sister to think she had ensnared me, than that I had dishonoured you. And I mean to give her no further encouragement. I just didn’t want her guessing what had gone on between us. Even a hint of what has happened would hurt you—and destroy what little chance I have to offer honourably for you.’

  ‘Offer,’ she said, in a surprised whisper.

  His pride stung along with his conscience now. They both knew that he was not a worthy suitor. But she could at least pretend otherwise. ‘Of course I will offer. After last night, you must understand how I feel about you. When I found a beautiful woman rushing to stop an elopement, I incorrectly assumed that it was to retrieve your own wayward fiancé. And I damned the inequality of our births and my misfortune at not being the one to tempt you away from the life you deserve. But I doubt your virtue would have survived the first night, had I but known that your heart was unengaged.’

  ‘You wanted me?’ She had that curious little frown again that he found so appealing.

  ‘Most certainly. Almost from the first moment.’

  ‘But people do not—male people, that is, men—do not normally…once they have met Priss…’ She was still trying to puzzle it out, so he kissed her again until he could feel the lines in her brow begin to relax, bringing his hands from her shoulders down to her waist and back up, over her ribs until the swell of her breasts filled his hands.

  ‘Let us think no more of what other men want, Drusilla. My only care is for my own satisfaction. And my only desire is to find it in your bed. Not your sister’s. Nor any other lady of my acquaintance, or of yours.

  ‘Hmm.’ He kissed her again, and felt her whole body relaxing against his, her arms creeping back around his waist. Her hips were locked against his, and after last night, she must have a much better idea of what was likely to happen, should she stay.

  ‘Dru,’ he murmured in a sigh against her hair, willing himself not to tighten his hands upon those delightful breasts. ‘Must you return immediately to your room?’

  ‘Priss is most adamant that I not disturb her until morning. And there is not another person for miles that would care what becomes of me.’

  ‘There is one, darling.’ He kissed the side of her throat and felt her laugh. ‘I know it is a day too late to ask, but have you given any thought to your feelings towards me? If I were to offer, what might your answer be?’

  She gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Father would never permit it.’ Then she bit his ear as though she did not want to bother her head with anything so unpleasant.

  It was not the same as a no, he told himself. And she did seem to be kissing him eagerly, as though she wished him to forget any impediment. ‘Your father is not the one I wish to marry. If it were only us, then what might your answer be?’

  ‘If you wish to marry me, then it would be most foolish of me to refuse,’ she said, rather primly for one separated from him by only a nightgown.

  ‘That is a sensible “yes” and, therefore, little better than a “no”.’ It was certainly not the enthusiastic answer he required. ‘How do you feel about me? While I would marry you for duty, should you wish me to, just to restore your reputation, I would much rather it be a union based on mutual affection.’

  Then her expression turned strange. A cloudy, dreamy sort of smile was on her lips, and her eyes seemed to be gazing far away. ‘I never expected to be asked that question. How do I feel?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, more urgently. ‘Could you love me, just a little? For I swear, though I could love enough for both of us, it would be a burden happily shared.’

  ‘I feel wonderful, Mr Hendricks,’ she said, with a sigh. ‘And while I do not know the emotion well, I think I might be in love with you.’

  ‘John, darling. Please, call me John.’ And then, he buried his face in her throat, wanting nothing more than to mark it with the force of his kisses. Instead, he inhaled her scent and licked gently along the cords of it.

  ‘John,’ she said resolutely, as though growing used to the name. And then, more softly, ‘Oh, John.’

  He laughed against her throat, drawing her back towards the bed with him, praying that it was not too great a liberty to want the woman he loved in any way he could get her, for the brief time they had to share. He whispered, ‘This, darling, is where you are supposed to tell me that you will not countenance such behaviour from me until there is a ring on your finger.’

  She sighed and pushed him back until he sat on the mattress. ‘Then I fear I shall be no good at all. I have no intention of stopping you, and missing this opportunity. If I did, and some misfortune would befall us, if you were to change your mind…’

  ‘I would never.’ He laughed again, into the hollow between her breasts.

  ‘Or if my father should forbi
d us…’

  Now that was a distinct possibility, and one he did not wish to think about just now. So he leaned his head to the side and caught one of her nipples through the fabric of her nightgown.

  She gave a gasp of shock, then put her hands to the back of his head to push his face into her breast, all thought of disaster fleeing from her mind.

  And his as well. She was the sweetest thing, and her heart beat wildly against his cheek as he suckled her and reached to ease the hem of her gown up higher over her hip. With his other hand, he teased the place between her legs until her knees began to give way. ‘Take off your nightgown for me. Let me see you.’

  She hesitated, as though this act was the one that would prove her intentions to herself. But she did as he asked. And he fell to his knees before her, burying his face against her body. ‘Do you know how long I have wanted to do this? Since the first moment I saw you in breeches.’

  ‘You told me that it was only to make the riding easier…’

  ‘And it was,’ he assured her, kissing her thigh.

  ‘But all the while you were looking at my legs.’

  ‘They are very nice legs,’ he admitted, kissing them again, and pushing his hand between them, slowly lifting the palm up until it could go no farther. He raised his head to look at her. ‘I admired your breasts as well. Without a corset to hold them, they swayed whenever you moved.

  ‘You are horrid.’

  ‘Very much so. Let me show you.’ And he followed his hand with his tongue and lapped at her sex.

  ‘Mr Hendricks!’ In her surprise, she had fallen back to her old ways of barking prim orders at him.

  And so he responded in kind, and said, ‘Lady Drusilla,’ then covered her with his mouth. And for a while, all she could manage was a few stifled moans, then gasping as her hips bucked in his hands, and finally settled, soft and open as a dew-soaked flower.

  He lifted his head to kiss her belly, regretting that he had not bothered to undress before her arrival. But her smooth white hands were tugging at his shirt, and he rose and let her fumble at the fastenings of his clothing, the timidity of her hands all the more erotic. When he could no longer stand to wait, he hurriedly undid the last of the buttons, stripped to his skin and then laid her down on the bed and himself down beside her. Then he placed his member on the palm of her outstretched hand, curling her fingers around it and teaching her to stroke.

  Now it was his turn to moan, for she was a quick study, eager to please him, climbing on top of him and pleasuring herself by using his body to touch hers, rubbing him in the wetness between her legs until he was near to sliding inside her.

  He cupped her bottom and pulled her forwards. ‘Tonight I will remember to leave your body before I spill my seed.’

  ‘You will not,’ she said.

  ‘But we dare not risk…’

  ‘I do not care.’

  There was much she did not understand about the risk of children and his inability to feed them should they arrive before he had secured another position.

  And then the thought fled, for she was experimenting with movement, flexing the muscles inside her body to trap him, rising up and dropping back again in a slow rocking that felt incredibly good. He leaned away from her, wanting the feeling to last and watched her touching herself as she moved until she shuddered in the throes of orgasm, her hair damp with sweat, covering her beautiful face in a veil as she lost control.

  She opened her eyes and looked down at him, smiling in wanton surprise as she realised that he was still hard, still in need.

  And he felt the aching tightness growing inside him and tried to rein it in, remembering that one of them must keep their head. But she broke that control as easily as a twig, moving on him again, scratching his chest, pushing her ripe breasts into his palms and leaning forwards to bite and suck at his shoulders and throat, marking him as hers.

  He could stand it no longer. He rolled with her until he was on top, driving into her over and over, his mouth on hers to stifle both their groans so that they came together in a rush of silent, shaking power. He collapsed on her body, skin to skin. ‘A night is not enough,’ he whispered. ‘I need you. All of you. Naked beside me.’

  ‘Me,’ she whispered back, still surprised.

  ‘Of course, you. My darling, my beautiful Dru.’

  She nestled close to him, her smile growing soft and fond. ‘Tell me again that you love me.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said simply, feeling the inadequacies of the words. ‘I wish there was a way that I could prove it. I would shower you with diamonds, if I had them. Rubies and pearls. I’d dress you in silks—’ and then he stopped. For the likelihood of any of that escaped him. If she came to his house and his bed, she would be leaving luxury behind.

  ‘Just words, please. I like to hear you say it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Words and actions.’

  * * *

  The night had passed quickly. And the dawn left John wondering how he would manage to sit a horse for another day’s ride without falling asleep in the saddle. He stroked the hair of the woman in his arms, feeling thoroughly depleted by her and satisfied in all ways but one.

  He prodded her arm. ‘Dru, wake up and speak to me.’

  She gave a groan and then ducked her head beneath the covers, kissing his chest.

  ‘Enough.’ He pulled her up his body, so that he might look her in the eyes again. ‘Do not try to hide from me. For if you remember, when I invited you here, I said there were things to discuss.’

  ‘And we have hardly talked at all,’ she said, with a wicked smile, as though it were an achievement.

  ‘We will be in London soon,’ he said. ‘A day or two at most.’

  ‘I know,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And then it might all be over.’

  ‘What the deuce? Of course it will not,’ he said. ‘You have not been thinking all this time that I meant to let you go, have you?’

  ‘I fail to see any other way that this can end,’ she responded.

  There was a sudden and unexpected tightening in his throat at the fear that he had been mistaken in her feelings. ‘I thought that, after what has happened, it would end in our marriage. You said you loved me. And that you would have me, if I wished.’

  She looked at him with eyes full of both worry and pity. ‘Do not feel that you have to do that, Mr Hendricks.’

  And there was that ‘Mister’ again, as though she had not lain in his arms these past two nights, murmuring ‘John’. ‘You are still describing a possible union between us as though it were some sort of obligation.’

  ‘Is it not?’ she asked. ‘You feel that, since you have dishonoured me, you must make the offer.’

  ‘Of course I do,’ he said, exasperated.

  ‘And you have said you loved me,’ she said, with a happy sigh. ‘And I love you as well. And because of that, I do not wish you to feel bad for what shall happen.’

  She was being puzzling again, as she was sometimes. ‘You speak as though it would be a hardship to wed you.’

  ‘It cannot be what you expected, when you set out from London,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Of course not. But just because a thing is unexpected does not make it unwelcome. And I know I am unworthy. But you must tell me plainly, right now—will you have me or no?’

  ‘Of course I would have you. I would like nothing better. If…’

  ‘There need be no ifs or buts, Drusilla.’ He wrapped an arm around her body, hugging her close. ‘I do not wish to hear them.’

  She sat up, gathering the sheets around her body. ‘But now you must. We cannot be for ever on the road, my love. We will be back in London, just as you have said. And while I will take you gladly, my father will most certainly refuse to let me go.’ She hesitated. �
�You do mean to ask him, don’t you?’

  It would be so much easier if he did not, for she was likely right. If they simply turned their backs on London and went back to where they had been, he could take her over the border, just as Gervaise had tried with her sister. And though there was nothing fragile about his Dru, their love was new and might not stand the shock of the duke’s displeasure. ‘Of course I will ask him.’ He looked up at her, reassuring.

  ‘And when he says no?’

  John grinned at her. ‘Do not be so sure of that. I mean to make a very persuasive case for myself.’

  She smiled at him fondly. For a moment, he imagined seeing that smile, just as it was, each morning for the rest of his life. Then she said, ‘It will not matter. He has plans of his own in regards to the marriage of his daughters. And for all we might want it to be otherwise, they do not include you.’

  ‘Are you promised elsewhere?’ Again, panic gripped him, low in his stomach. For though it had not been Gervaise, perhaps his assumptions had some small grain of truth in them.

  She shook her head. ‘I have been far too busy seeing to Priscilla to think of such a thing for myself. And my father has been satisfied to have it so. If I marry, then who shall watch over her?’ It was clear that the obligation of her younger sister was such a solid and palpable thing that she could imagine life no other way.

  ‘Your father has the means to hire a companion. He must have considered it at some time.’

  And there, when he looked in her eyes, was a curious blankness and a growing puzzlement, as if it was hard for her to imagine a life where she was anything other than spinster companion to the vivacious Priss. ‘But then, why hasn’t he?’

  The hurt was so plain that he felt it in his own breast. She was like an animal so accustomed to its cage that an open door did not signal escape. And in that moment, he hated the duke, and was sure that Dru’s predictions were correct. The man would hate him in return for daring to ask for her hand, and his birth would have nothing to do with it. For whatever reason, Dru was not meant to marry and never had been.