A Measure of Deceit

by Jess Michaels

There was a light knock at the door, but Grace didn’t hesitate in her writing as she called out, “Yes?”

  Nash opened the door and said, “Your Grace, Lady Northfield is here to call. Are you in residence?”

  She glanced up at him with a grin. “For Jacinda, of course I am. Please send her in.”

  As he bowed from the room, she hastily finished her thought and shoved the note into an envelope so that Jacinda wouldn’t see. As she rose to her feet, Nash reappeared in the doorway.

  “Lady Northfield,” he intoned with great seriousness.

  Jacinda stepped into the room with a smile for the servant, and Grace rushed over to hug her. As the women parted, Nash said, “Will you require anything further?”

  Grace motioned Jacinda toward the settee and moved toward Nash. “Yes, some of Mrs. Williams’ biscuits would be lovely. And would you give this to Maura? She knows what to do with it.”

  She handed over her sloppy note and Nash took it. “Of course, my lady.”

  As he closed the door behind himself, Grace returned to Jacinda’s side and began to pour tea from the service she had long forgotten during her letter-writing foray.

  “I haven’t disturbed you, have I?” Jacinda asked as she watched Grace sweeten her tea to her liking. She took the cup with a smile, but set it aside rather than sip from it. “I know I didn’t send any word I was coming.”

  Grace stared at her. Jacinda was always the most thoughtful of their threesome, but now she seemed genuinely nervous, wringing her hands in her lap and hardly making eye contact with Grace.

  “You know you can always call on me, day or night. It could never be an inconvenience,” Grace said, reaching out to cover her friend’s hands. “I’m happy to see you.”

  “Good,” Jacinda said with a smile of relief. And yet her gaze still remained anxious.

  Grace leaned back, cautious as she approached her friend. “I have not seen you since Isabel’s little gathering three nights ago. How have you been?”

  Jacinda dipped her chin. “Very well,” she said, her voice little more than a squeak. But Grace saw something on her face, a secret smile of such joy that it rendered her speechless for a few seconds.

  “But you have come here to discuss something with me,” Grace encouraged, still in rapt attention of Jacinda’s obvious happiness.

  Jacinda lifted her gaze. “You know me so well.”

  “You’ve never been very good at hiding what you feel,” Grace said with a smile.

  Jacinda shrugged. “I suppose that is my weakness.”

  “It is your strength,” Grace corrected her.

  In fact, it was something she had always admired about their friend. Jacinda had gone through hell and yet her honesty, her openness to the world, hadn’t changed. Grace couldn’t be that person.

  “I have come here seeking counsel,” Jacinda admitted.

  “Have you spoken to Isabel about this topic already?” Grace asked, for she was surprised they had not both been approached at once.

  “No, not exactly.” Jacinda shifted. “It is Isabel who I need advice about.”

  Grace lifted both eyebrows. “I see.”

  Jacinda wrung her hands again. “Grace, you said there was something different about me the other night and I’m ready to confess it. I—I’m having a baby.”

  She said the words so softly, so timidly, and yet her eyes lit up with a fire from within that made her beautiful as a goddess, joyful as an angel. She had never been so glorious and Grace could only blink in the glaring light of her happiness.

  “Jacinda,” she breathed, clasping her friend’s shoulders and dragging her in for a tight hug. “That is wonderful news!”

  Jacinda squeezed her back, her body shaking as she clung to Grace with all her might. “I’m so, so happy, Grace. I cannot even find the words to express it.”

  Grace drew back. “You don’t need the words—your face tells all.” Her smile faltered a little. “But I suppose this is why you came to me wanting advice about Isabel.”

  Jacinda swallowed hard, then nodded, and for a moment the friends sat in silence. They didn’t need to say out loud why Jacinda would hesitate to tell Isabel about her pregnancy. Both of them had lived through her struggles in their friend’s first marriage, seen how much it had hurt her not to be able to bear a child. Later, Isabel had almost not married Seth, the great love of her life, out of fear she couldn’t provide him with an heir.

  And in two years, she had not. She never spoke of it, but there were times Grace caught her looking at the children of mutual acquaintances, her gaze distant.

  “She’s wanted this so long,” Jacinda whispered, as if she had been thinking of the exact same things that Grace had been.

  Grace nodded. “She has, but Jacinda, it does not follow that she would begrudge you your happiness. You know Isabel too well to believe that.”

  Jacinda shook her head. “Oh no, I don’t think she would ever be anything but happy for me. I only want to think of a way to tell her that will reduce her pain.”

  Grace pondered that for a moment, but found, to her surprise, that she couldn’t think of an answer to the problem. Normally, she didn’t struggle with these things in the slightest.

  But then, she was distracted as of late. Thanks to a certain Scotsman.

  She shook her head. “I think you should simply tell her. Isabel would be more hurt to know you hid the news from her than she would be to hear it, I think.”

  Jacinda pondered that for a moment. “I know you’re right. I will swallow my cowardice and tell her.”

  “Good,” Grace said with a smile of encourgement. “It’s the best decision.”

  Jacinda nodded, took a long sip of tea and then sighed. “You mentioned the last time I saw you was at Isabel’s party. I have been dying to ask you—why did you run out without saying goodbye?”

  Grace tensed. The moment her friend came into the parlor, she had known Jacinda would question her about that very thing. And yet now she felt cornered by the benign question, as if Jacinda could see through her.

  “What did Mr. Sheridan tell you about why I left?” she asked.

  Jacinda tilted her head as she looked more closely at Grace. “He said you must not have cared for his company.”

  Grace pushed to her feet with a huff of breath and paced to the window. “Connor said that?” she burst out.

  Jacinda blinked in surprise about her tone. “He was quite amusing about it, I assure you—”

  Grace spun on her. “But why not just say I was feeling unwell? Why make it obvious that we had…had…”

  She trailed off, but when Jacinda’s eyes went wide, she realized the damage had been done. Her friend got to her feet slowly. “You had what, Grace?”

  “Nothing,” she muttered.

  Jacinda bit out a bark of laughter. “This is amazing! I have spent the entire length of our friendship admiring your cool and collected calm, and now your eyes are wide and your cheeks are flushed. And you can’t lie. You’ve always been able to lie, cover your feelings, haven’t you?”

  Grace drew in a few breaths, but she couldn’t seem to rein in control over herself.

  Control. Connor had taken hers on the floor of this very parlor just two days ago. And though she had spent a great deal of time cultivating that very quality Jacinda claimed to admire, she couldn’t seem to find it again.

  “What happened between you and Connor Sheridan that has you so out of sorts?” Jacinda demanded.

  Grace blinked and then opened her mouth. For a moment, everything in the room seemed to slow down as her lips formed words she had never intended to say, not even to one of her best friends.

  “We’ve become lovers,” she blurted out. Immediately she slapped her hands over her mouth and stared at Jacinda.

  Her friend was staring right back, mouth agape and eyes wide. For a moment she said nothing, then gently smoothed her skirts with her palms as she shook her head.

  “Gracious, I didn’t expect that
response,” Jacinda said.

  Grace partially uncovered her mouth and squeaked out, “I didn’t expect to say it, if that helps.”

  Jacinda struggled with words and finally said, “I thought you didn’t like him.”

  Grace came back to the chair she had vacated and sank into it, mostly because her legs currently felt like they were made of jelly. She let out a long sigh before she replied.

  “I-I like him just fine,” she said, trying not to allow her mind to be clouded with thoughts of Connor’s mouth on hers, his body stroking her, his words seducing her, claiming her…and failed. So she focused on her true hesitations about him instead. “I only question his motivation in coming into Society now, furthering himself based upon the book.”

  Jacinda’s brow wrinkled. “And yet you still made love to him, even with those hesitations about a potential defect in his character.”

  Grace felt a strange desire to defend Connor, even if it was against the very charge she had just made against him, but managed to control that response.

  “Not all of us become lovers and ultimately marry our best friend in the world,” she teased, hoping to distract Jacinda. “Is Jason happy about your news?”

  Jacinda’s face lit up again. “He is over the moon and back,” she said, her expression dreamy before she glared at Grace. “And you are changing the subject.”

  Grace smiled despite her discomfort, for it was good to see Jacinda so certain about herself. She shook her head. “Desire isn’t always tied to reasonable emotions, Jacinda. Or to deeper connection. Not for everyone.”

  Jacinda pondered that statement for a moment before she said, “I have experienced both passions with no emotions and passions with everything real and filled with depth. I think the second one is far better.”

  Grace squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as she thought of her late husband, as she thought of any lover she had discreetly taken since his death…and finally, she thought of Connor. Of the connection he didn’t even know they shared and the confusing way he scrambled her thoughts and emotions.

  “Yes,” she admitted softly. “You are very likely correct, Jacinda.”

  But even as she said it, she knew that what Jacinda preached as best was likely not something she would ever have again. And certainly not with a man who didn’t even know her true identity.

  Connor stepped into Grace’s foyer and was surprised to find the duchess herself standing behind her butler. She was wearing a tightly fitting golden gown with a black sheer overlay atop. Once again, her beauty astounded him.

  “Thank you, Nash,” she said as the butler took Connor’s gloves and hat. “That will be all for tonight. Please make certain Mr. Sheridan and I are not disturbed.”

  By the way Grace stared at him, it was evident what wicked plans she had for him that night. Connor was surprised she would be so bold with her servant in the room. But if the butler had a judgment about his mistress’s behavior, he made no indication of it. He merely murmured a good evening and left them alone in the foyer.

  “I was surprised to receive your letter,” Connor said.

  She smiled. “I was equally shocked not to receive one from you earlier. I thought you were a man of such control.”

  He moved forward, unable to resist being closer to her. “Ah, Your Grace, control is best exerted in due time and place.”

  She shivered almost imperceptibly, but that tiny motion was enough to harden his cock in an instant. And she spoke of his control.

  “And what time and place would that be?” she asked. Her voice cracked slightly, another indication that she was as desperate for what would come as he was.

  He smiled. “I would say now is the time,” he said as he caught her elbow and dragged her closer. “And your chamber would be the place.”

  She stared up at him, her skin all but glowing in the lamplight, her eyes lit up with desire and excitement and just a hint of uncertainty. Her lips were wet and full, and he had never wanted another woman with such sharp intensity before. He had never wanted to claim someone, mark someone, like he did with her.

  It was rather confusing, actually, to have such strong desires and connection with someone he had only just met, someone in a class he would normally avoid at all costs…and yet he couldn’t resist her.

  There was just something about Grace.

  “Take me upstairs,” he ordered, releasing her.

  He could see her warring with herself, with the strong nature she showed to the world. Only he knew a secret about her: she liked giving over control to her lover. Even if she would deny it. Her actions two afternoons ago had proved that to him, waking the beast inside of him that wanted to own her.

  She turned and motioned to the staircase. “Follow me.”

  He allowed her to take the first step as he took in the view from behind. Damn, but he wanted that dress off her. And to his joy, he saw that the gown fastened in the back.

  She took the second step and he reached up to unhook the button at the top of the gown. She gasped at the swift, efficient motion and spun around to face him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Beginning,” he said, turned her back. “Now keep climbing the stairs and stop making this more complicated.”

  “You’re undressing me while I’m walking through the middle of my home?” she asked.

  “Too many questions,” he growled, leaning up so his lips would be close to her ears. “Let me give you what you want.”

  She hadn’t moved another step, but neither did she turn back toward him or pull away. “What do I want?” she asked on a rough whisper.

  “To be challenged,” he explained, tracing the curve of her ear with the tip of his tongue until she gasped in pleasure. “To be controlled. To wonder if a servant will come out of a door and see his mistress being stripped down by her lover, to feel that thrill of being caught in such a shocking act. That is what you want, Grace. You may deny it, you may pretend that your icy control is what you desire, but I’ve felt you tremble when I took you. I know being taken is exactly what you desire. So walk up the stairs.”

  She was silent for what seemed like an eternity before she murmured, “Yes.”

  That surrender hit him straight in the cock and his already hard rod strained even harder against his trousers. It was going to take a Herculean effort not to just rut with her before they even got to her room.

  She staggered up another step, and he released a second button. Her breath came sharper now, echoing in the silent stairway. Her legs shook as she took the next step and the next button came free. He pushed his hand into the opening of the fabric and felt her silky chemise and the heat of her skin beneath.

  “Connor,” she hissed, her cry a needy sound of pleasure.

  “Keep walking,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

  She stumbled up the next step and he unfastened two buttons this time, as anxious to have access to her body as she was to give it to him. There were three more steps above them and she grasped the banister as she lifted her foot to the next. The final two fastenings of her gown came loose and he pushed at the gown, making it drop around her arms.

  He cupped his body around hers, wrapping an arm around her stomach. “God, I could have you right here,” he murmured against her flesh.

  She whimpered, lifting her backside against him in what could only be seen as an offering.

  He chuckled at her reaction. “But I won’t. Keep walking, my lady.”

  She let out a grunt of displeasure and moved up not just the next step, but the one that took them to the landing above.

  “Defiance.” He laughed. “That will be punished in a moment. But first…”

  He shoved the gown down to her wrists, leaving her trapped, but also exposed. The flimsy fabric of her chemise beneath did nothing to protect her and he pushed his hands beneath the fabric to cup her breasts.

  “Please,” she gasped, leaning back against him and nearly sending him toppling down the stairs.
/>   “Which chamber?” he asked, massaging the sweet swells of her breasts and rocking against her from behind.

  “Th-the third on the left,” she gasped, her breathing ragged and broken.

  He helped her move now and they stumbled to the room together. Her nipples were hard as diamonds against his palms, and as she opened the door he spun her around to face him and slammed his mouth down on hers.

  She cried out, opening to him in an instant as he slid his tongue between her lips. She immediately began to suck him and his knees buckled. He tore at her clothes, not caring that the door remained open behind them. He wanted her naked, her legs open, her wet, tight sex milking him to completion. He wanted to make her scream as she came over and over again.

  He pulled back as he shoved her gown down and kicked it aside. Her underthings went swiftly next and she stood before him naked, trembling, tousled from his rough hands and mouth. She held his stare for a long moment before she walked past him and shut her door. She leaned back against it and watched him.

  “Will you remove your clothes this time?” she asked.

  He smiled. So she had noticed his choice not to remove anything the first time they were together. It had been damn near impossible not to strip everything away and feel her body against his.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, moving toward her, bracketing a hand on either side of her head. “To see my body?”

  She nodded, the movement jerky.

  “Then you’ll have to undress me, my lady,” he said, backing away and holding out his arms. “But you can only use one hand.”

  She blinked. “And what will I do with the other hand?”

  He smiled. “Touch yourself, of course. I want you to make yourself so wet that I slide into you with no resistance.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Take what you desire most.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures

  In The Ladies Book of Pleasures, the chapter on control had been about a lady taking the power in love-making. After all, many women of her acquaintance simply lay back and did their duty without expecting more. Grace had hoped by encouraging those who read the book to become more equal partners that they would see increased parity in their relationships not just in bed, but out in the world.