He dragged back a fraction and looked at her in the darkness, his gaze seeking, questioning. She prayed that the dim room hid some of the emotion that had to be on her face. And her prayers must have been answered, for he returned to kissing her, even as he backed her toward the wall beside the empty fireplace. Her back hit the flat panel and he leaned in. She reveled in the weight of him against her, the heat of his body warming her more than any flame ever could have.
If he sensed her desire, her need, he seemed more than willing to give her what she craved. As he ravished her mouth, he tugged her skirts up, slipping a hand beneath and cupping her wet sex with a chuckle that was lost in their kiss.
She felt him unfastening his trousers and arched against him helplessly, reaching for that connection she knew would come, even if it would end too swiftly.
He lifted her again and she felt the hardness of his cock at her entrance before he slid home in her heat. She shuddered with relief, with need, with all the desperate love she felt and couldn’t express.
“Hurry,” she murmured as she buried her head in his shoulder and breathed in the uniquely Connor scent of him. Something male and musky and clean.
He stroked hard into her, his breath hot on her throat as he flexed his hips, circled them to give her pleasure. It came in a mobbing, heated explosion that took her off guard with its intensity. She screamed into his shoulder as her body shuddered out of control, overcome by pleasure.
He drew the sensations out with expert twists of his hips and only when she went limp did he increase his tempo, straining toward his own release. She felt him stiffen and then he withdrew as he groaned in intense pleasure.
She kept her arms around him and her face buried in his shoulder as they panted in unison. She felt him shifting, ready to part with her, so she mouthed the words she could never say out loud.
I love you.
Connor set down the candle he had found and turned to watch Grace smooth her dress and check her hair in the tiny mirror above the mantle. She had been uncommonly quiet since their passionate, swift coupling against the wall. He couldn’t read her, for she had placed that icy wall between them.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, hoping to be casual in the face of this unexpected encounter and her reaction to it.
She glanced at him, and her smile was genuine. “Did my shudders and squeals of passion not make that clear?”
He relaxed in the face of her teasing. Whatever was making her distant, it didn’t seem to be their lovemaking.
She turned and held out her arms, as if to ask for inspection. “Do I look like I’ve been pillaged against the wall of the music room by a wicked Scotsman?”
He smiled even though her words aroused him beyond measure. “No, you do not. You’ve not a hair out of place, despite my best efforts.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps you can try harder at the next party we both attend.”
He laughed. “I look forward to it.”
She shifted slightly and tilted her head as she looked at him. As if she were trying to see something beyond the surface, answer a question she wasn’t asking.
“You are a very good dancer, you know,” she said. “And that isn’t a euphemism.”
“Thank you,” he said, surprised at her shift in topic.
“Where did you learn to dance so well?” she continued.
He frowned, but managed to keep his tone light as he said, “You know, we do dance in the slums.”
Her lips pursed and she shook her head. “I only meant you seem very comfortable, even if you profess not to understand my class and its frivolity.”
He hesitated. “Well, I—my father wanted me to know how to dance.”
The moment he said the words, he was surprised at himself. Very few people knew anything personal about his life. Adrian knew a little, but he was the closest he had to a confidant.
She moved closer. “Is this the same father who taught the accent out of you?”
He froze. So she recalled that tiny detail he had revealed at Lady Lyndham’s party not so long ago. He’d meant it as a throwaway statement, but Grace had held onto it…and was closer to a painful truth than he wished her to be.
“No,” he said, his voice rough. “That was…that was someone else. We should get back to the party. We’ll be missed.”
There was a moment that Grace’s wall fell, and he saw a flash of hurt on her face at his refusal to let her anywhere near the truth of his life. But then it was gone, like it had never existed.
She nodded. “Very well.”
“I’ll—I’ll go first,” he offered, suddenly desperate to escape this room and the woman who so confused him.
She shrugged. “I’ll wait a few moments and then return myself. Good night.”
He hesitated, wishing he could think of something better to say, some way to reassure her, even though he didn’t know why she should need to be reassured.
Finally, he simply turned to the door and said, “Good night,” as he left her alone. He walked down the hall, his gait not as certain as it usually was, his mind certainly in more turmoil.
When he met Grace, he had been instantly attracted to her. That fact wasn’t a shock. With her gorgeous face and lush body, a man would have to be a monk not to appreciate her. He’d been more surprised when he noticed her submissive nature so swiftly. He was attuned to such things, of course, but normally he had to get to know a woman over the course of weeks or even months, not mere days, to identify her desire to be with a man like him.
But tonight…tonight was different. He had connected with her on a different level. He’d shared something private with her. Something he didn’t talk about with anyone, let alone a temporary lover. He’d almost shared even more.
Why was he so drawn to the icy duchess? What made her so…special?
“There you are, Sheridan.”
He jolted as a friendly hand slapped across his back. He turned to find Lord Lyndham and Lord Northfield at his side, though how he had come to be in the ballroom and when they had approached were not something he could easily recall.
“Good evening, my lords,” he said with a tight smile as he tried to push away thoughts of Grace and the confusing reactions she inspired.
“Been looking for you everywhere,” Lord Northfield continued. “My wife said she saw you, but then you vanished.”
Connor shifted. “I was getting some air. These things can be very stuffy.”
“Indeed,” Lyndham replied with an almost apologetic smile. “And boring as hell, truth be told.”
Connor bit back a snort of derision. His night had been anything but boring.
“You would know about boring, Seth,” Northfield said with grin.
“Jason merely has a different idea of excitement than I do,” Lyndham said with a grin of his own. “Or he did before Jacinda tamed him.”
“Happily tamed me,” Northfield corrected him. “She is the worst influence, Sheridan, you wouldn’t believe it. She actually has me giving a damn about investing for the future.”
Connor couldn’t help but laugh. “That does sound dire. But do you influence her in return?”
“In so many ways.” Northfield gave such a wicked glance that Connor’s eyes went wide in surprise of the clear evidence, once again, of how passionately both these men loved their wives.
He thought of Grace, pinned against the wall, her breath hot on his skin as he took her. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear that image from his mind.
“And what are you investing in, my lord?” he asked.
“Oh God,” Northfield said with a wave of his hand. “Call me Jason, or Northfield if you must. But none of this ‘my lording’ unless some fop is watching.” He motioned to Lyndham. “And Seth or Lyndham, I insist.”
Connor shot a look at Lyndham, but the other man just shrugged good-naturedly. “He insists.”
“All right, then what are you investing in, Jason?”
Jason smiled and clapped
his arm again. “That is the very interesting thing, Sheridan. I have been thinking in investing in publishing. To be more specific, in you. You must be basking in the success of the Lady’s book.”
Connor faltered. The Lady. He hadn’t thought of her in days. He struggled to answer.
“Yes, the book has been financially fruitful.”
He did not add that no other title he and Adrian had produced had hit those levels. Perhaps with the right investors, he could change that.
Jason elbowed Seth. “You see. We’re on the right track.”
Connor swallowed. “I would certainly appreciate the support. We could have a meeting.”
“Yes, most definitely,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “Perhaps tomorrow. We might even be able to drum up some more interested parties once we sit down with you.”
“Yes, that would be something indeed,” Connor said, thinking of how pleased Adrian would be.
The man was always fretting over money and “getting the word out to the people”. He had never approved of The Ladies Book of Pleasures, but if it could bring greater exposure to their company, even he would have to admit it had been the right thing to publish. It might also soften Adrian’s views on those with titles somewhat, which had always been harsh at best and rage-filled at worst.
“We truly do think you are worth investing in,” Seth said.
Jason nodded. “And, of course, there is Grace.”
Connor froze and stared at the earl. “Grace?” he repeated, as if he didn’t know exactly what the other man meant.
Seth cleared his throat loudly, but Jason shot him a glare. “What could hurt one will hurt the others, Lyndham.” He returned a very even and suddenly far less jovial look back toward Connor. “We saw you depart the ballroom just after she did. And since she just returned to the room from the same direction you did, I can only assume you two met in private.”
Connor tensed as he looked in the direction Jason indicated. Grace was indeed returning to the room, looking no worse for their encounter except for a slight unsteadiness on her feet when she cast him the barest glance and then looked away with a blush.
Connor didn’t deny or confirm the man’s charge. It didn’t seem to be required.
“We like you, Sheridan, but have a care,” Seth added. “Grace may seem unbreakable, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be hurt. And as Northfield so eloquently put it, what could hurt one will hurt the others. The others being our wives. So whatever is between you, I hope you’ll be delicate about it.”
Connor arched a brow. “Whatever is between us is between us, gentlemen. But I appreciate that Her Grace has friends close enough to give a damn about her. I assure you, I have no intention of hurting her.”
But as the other two men nodded and Jason changed the subject to one far less delicate, Connor couldn’t help but think of the brief pain on Grace’s face when he had denied her information earlier. Sometimes the best of intentions didn’t work out.
He knew that full well.
Chapter Eleven
“Everyone has moments of crisis, moments where we question where we stand. These are the moments when we are on the cusp of something amazing.”—The Ladies Book of Pleasures
The next afternoon, Grace held Jacinda’s hand tightly as they stared at Isabel and waited for her response to Jacinda’s news. Their friend slowly set her teacup down.
“A baby?” she repeated, her tone wavering.
Jacinda nodded and her fingers tightened around Grace’s.
With a little cry, Isabel launched herself at Jacinda and wrapped her arms around her for a tight hug. “I’m so very happy for you and for Jason!”
Jacinda sagged in relief and released Grace’s hand to return Isabel’s hug. “I was so afraid this news would hurt you.”
Isabel drew back with a shocked expression. “Hurt me?”
“Because we know your struggles with having a child,” Grace said softly, exploring her friend’s face for any hint of upset that she was trying not to let Jacinda see. To her shock, there was none.
Isabel touched Jacinda’s face and smiled at Grace. “You two are lovely to worry about me, but I promise you, I feel nothing but joy for your happy news.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Grace said, leaning forward. “But does that mean you have news of your own, or have you come to peace with the fact that you and Seth haven’t yet had a child yourselves?”
Isabel sighed. “I admit, when we married I was terrified Seth would come to regret his choice if I remained barren. But he has never said a word, nor seemed disappointed. We have also grown much closer to his cousin, Edwin, and his family. He is a fine man and Seth is very comfortable with him taking over the line if we never have a child.”
“What about Seth’s mother?” Jacinda said. “She was very vocal about her disapproval.”
Isabel nodded and a shadow crossed her face with the mention. “She has never been anything but kind to me, but I’ve felt her distance. But she only recently pulled me aside and apologized for her behavior. She sees how happy we are, how content Seth is, and has accepted our marriage.”
Grace nodded. “I’m so glad. But what about—”
She stopped, uncertain if she should continue when Isabel seemed so pleased.
“What about?” the countess encouraged.
Jacinda shot Grace a look. “I think Grace was wondering what about your own desire to have a child.”
Isabel nodded slowly. “Yes, although I have been deliriously happy these last two years, I do still wish to have a child of my own. And Seth and I have recently begun talking about taking in an orphan. There are so many children in the world who need a home and we could provide a child with such advantages, not the least of which is all the love in my heart.”
Jacinda smiled. “I’m so happy for you, Isabel.” She took Isabel’s hand and then reached for Grace with the other. “And now we are all so settled.”
Grace stiffened. She felt anything but settled at present. In fact, she was the opposite. It was strange, for so long she had been the solid foundation in their friendship, the one with no troubles, no dramatic issues.
That time had obviously passed.
“Has Jason told Seth your happy news?” Isabel asked. “I suppose not, for he wouldn’t keep such a secret from me.”
Jacinda shook her head. “Jason understood that I needed to tell you first. I believe he intends to tell Seth today after their meeting with Mr. Sheridan.”
Grace straightened up. “Jason and Seth are meeting with Connor today?” she sputtered. “Why?”
Isabel drew back slightly. “They are interested in investing in his publishing endeavor.”
Grace should have felt relieved that their meeting was not about her, but the idea that her friends would become involved in a business she had such intimate knowledge of, with a man she knew she could never have, even if she had admitted to herself she loved him…
It was a hard pill to swallow.
“I must say again how shocked I am that you’ve taken him as a lover,” Isabel said with a shake of her head.
“I’ve had lovers in the past,” Grace said, more sharply than she had intended.
Jacinda’s mouth dropped open. “You have?”
“Of course,” Grace said with a sigh. “Discreetly. Not many, so you may close your mouth.”
“And how does Mr. Sheridan rank amongst that list?” Isabel teased.
Grace turned her face. Oh, how she wished Isabel hadn’t asked. It was the question that betrayed her heart.
Connor Sheridan ranked first on the list of men who had taken her to bed. First by far.
“She is blushing,” Jacinda said with wide eyes.
“Stop,” Grace said, standing up and pacing away from her friends. “I didn’t come here to talk about my life.”
Isabel frowned. “You know, you have always been such a help to me and to Jacinda. And yet you balk at allowing us to help you in return. I wish you would th
ink of us as confidantes.”
Grace took a step toward them, a hand outreached. “I do! Do you think I’ve told or would ever tell anyone else in our sphere that Connor and I are lovers?”
“But we have no idea how you feel about the man.” Jacinda sighed. “Is he a passing fancy? Is this something more? Do you even like him?”
Grace pursed her lips. This had always been the complaint of those in her life. Even Leo had sometimes said that he didn’t know her, and they had been married.
“I don’t know what Connor is,” Grace said softly. “So there is nothing to tell.”
Isabel frowned and Jacinda looked down in her lap at her clenched hands, her disappointment full on her face. Grace sighed. She was forever going to be a disappointment to them with her closed-off ways. She hated it, but to open herself up…it was terrifying.
And what she had said was the closest to the truth that she could get. In reality, she didn’t know Connor any more than her friends claimed to know her. She had corresponded with him for close to three years, they had become friends, she had developed feelings for the man, but she had never known about his past, nor shared anything about her own. Yesterday he had mentioned his father and she had longed to know more about that subject, about him.
When he shut her down, it had stung.
She looked at her friends. That was how they felt as well.
She moved closer. “I realize you want a glimpse into my soul,” she said slowly. “But you must know that it is very hard for me to be…open or vulnerable. But you two are the best friends I have ever known. I hope you know that’s true.”
Isabel got to her feet and crossed the room to her. To Grace’s surprise, her friend embraced her. “I know. I just hope that someday you’ll share something more of yourself with someone. I fear it is very lonely in your world, Grace. And I want you to be happy, to be loved and to love in return. When you don’t reveal yourself, you miss out on so much.”
A Measure of Deceit Page 10
