There went his shirt, up over his head so that his hair stood on end.
Gracious! The Earl of Southerton was far more muscular than she expected.
"You thought perhaps I would not hear about that wager?" He smirked.
"Again, I have no idea what you mean."
But then he stripped off his riding breeches and she forgot the path of their conversation. Suddenly there was something more important to mention, because if that extremely large appendage was going where she thought he meant to put it, he probably should be apprised of her situation.
"I ought to warn you—"
"I've had my fill of warnings where you're concerned and none were necessary." He strode toward her now — or rather, prowled—and she felt her heart hammering in her chest. "Now I know you brought my hat to me for a reason, taking advantage of my valet's absence, which was very clever. But you must know we don't have quite so long as I would prefer. If we are both absent throughout dinner, questions will be asked."
"In the House of Lords, no doubt," she replied wryly.
"So we must use our time wisely. Since I also have to spirit you back to your own chamber while folk are milling about in the hall, perhaps, on this occasion, you'll forgive me if I don't undress you completely. Much as I might like to." With heated eyes he surveyed her body sprawled across the coverlet. "It has, after all, been some time for me and I'm afraid haste will win out over other delights."
"How..." She reached for his shoulders, placing her hands over the thick, taut muscle. "How long," she swallowed, "has it been since you had a woman in this bed?"
"A lifetime."
And as he came over her, sliding both hands beneath her bottom and lowering his head to kiss her breasts above her corset and chemise, Raven remembered what she had to tell him. "I'm a virgin." Oh, it blurted out of her rather pathetically, she thought chagrinned. Could she not have phrased it with more elegance?
He stilled, his lips still puckered against the rising flesh, his lower body already positioned between her thighs.
"I thought you should know," she added. "In case it matters. I'm not entirely sure how these things...proceed."
After a long moment she heard a low groan come from somewhere deep inside his tall frame and then, slowly, he raised his head. His eyes were cloudy, unfocused.
"You jest?" he managed, lips barely moving.
"Good lord, no. Why would I jest about such a matter?"
His hips still held her thighs apart, his hands still gripped the cheeks of her bottom, her petticoats spilled around them like peony petals.
"You're a maiden?" he sounded incredulous.
She scowled. "Well, you needn't be so surprised. I did tell you not to believe everything you hear."
A frustrated, fiercely annoyed look had briefly seized his expression, but now it was smoothed away. His head fell forward and she heard him laughing very softly, saw his shoulders shaking.
"This amuses you?" she demanded, wriggling, trying to get free.
"Don't do that," he muttered, breathless, tightening his powerful arms around her.
"Don't do what?"
"Keep still, or you'll set me over the edge, woman, and then there will be no stopping this."
She gripped his hair in both hands and made him look up at her. "I did not give you this information to make you stop. Kindly proceed."
Although his eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he smiled, he made no move.
"Why do you delay?” she demanded. "I insist!"
"Thankfully you told me the truth, madam, before we did anything we might regret. Unlike you I am not driven by a reckless need for adventure at the cost of safety. Thus, I require substantial time to review this matter."
"I don't see why it changes anything," she cried. "Don't you dare stop!"
"Do not give commands to me, madam," he replied in his deep, steady voice. "It seems that I know rather more about these things than you do. I am also wiser and older."
"Ugh. Why do old people always assume they're wiser too? It does not necessarily follow. Ransom is five years older than me and considerably more stupid."
He now rolled onto his side, his body propped up on one elbow as he looked down at her with those misty eyes. "You're getting yourself into high dudgeon again, young lady," he said calmly, eyeing the rapid rise and fall of her bosom through the lace of her chemise. Partially contained by her corset, her breasts ached to be set free, but he made no move to undress her further. Instead he let her suffer, left her bound up by those cruel laces she could not reach herself and by the rigid grip of whalebone stays.
Her corset was a wicked contraption, she decided, One invented, no doubt, by a man.
Meanwhile, as she lay there suffering, his gaze roaming playfully across her breathlessly excited, imprisoned body, he lay beside her, splendidly nude, his own parts utterly unrestricted.
Raven scowled. "I want you," she managed on a terse breath. "I mean to have you."
He chuckled softly. "Spoken like a true spoiled brat." Slowly he reached down, moving her petticoats to run a hand along her thigh, above her garter. "It is very tempting to let you seduce me, despite your virgin state."
"Then why don't you? What's the matter, Wolf? Afraid of what I might do to you?"
"It is rather late for that. I fear you've already done it." He stroked upward between her thighs and she gasped as his warm fingertips touched her so intimately.
"I don't care what you want to call it," she muttered, arching her back and reaching for his manhood with one hand. "Amorous congress, convivial society, or a hasty tupping. I insist you give it to me."
"And Raven Deverell doesn't like to lose?"
A very warm sensation now started between her legs, a delicious tightening that made her writhe against the bed, pushing herself against his caressing fingers. "Pre...precisely."
Abruptly he ducked out of her grip and slid down her body. "You're a demanding brat, but I have a way to satisfy you."
"What? Where are you going?"
In the next moment she knew. Raven closed her eyes and spread her arms out, fingers curled in the bedcover, gripping it steadily harder and tighter as the Earl of Southerton's very proper tongue took over from his fingers and performed a very improper service for his naughty houseguest.
Her mewls of surprised delight soon echoed around the chamber and in a single moment of clarity she thought how fortunate it was that his room was far away in its own wing of the house.
* * * *
He wanted her completely, wanted her with a hard driving force that was almost out of his hands. But her gasping last-minute confession had caused a sharp tug on the reins, halting his forward gallop.
A virgin?
Sebastian Hale, even if he was born with a certain sense of entitlement, an aristocratic prerogative, couldn't bring himself to deflower her in this casual, hasty manner. The gentleman inside the wolf would not allow it. This was a serious matter. It was not something to be done on a wager. It was not an act of any insignificance. Not for him.
Besides which, he needed much more time to devote himself to the act, and the other guests would already be gathered in the drawing room by now, wondering where they were.
He could, however, bring her a great deal of pleasure now and obtain some level of satisfaction himself with a little intimate play. As much as time would permit. She was too tempting a morsel to resist.
Naturally, Raven was not content to leave her pleasure in his hands, and his tender exploration and teasing of her body was followed immediately by her inspection of his.
When her lips touched his aching manhood at last, he lay back and stared up at the velvet canopy above his bed, trying to get the thoughts straight in his mind. But all hope of sensible order was long gone. Her long, silken hair trailing over his thighs was too much for his sanity, and then her soft but firm mouth ventured onward with unabashed curiosity, stirring the beast awake inside him, silencing the protests of his gallant half.
/> They did indeed both have an appetite that evening, and they sated themselves as best they could.
She had not mentioned Matthew Bourne or his broken engagement. But she knew his feelings about that young man, so she would probably not speak of it.
As for her leading him out onto that terrace deliberately, the way his aunts suggested, he could not believe it. Bourne may have fired a rifle at him, but she would not be a party to that. In fact, that shot — if it was aimed at him— had missed because of her. She dropped her reticule and they both reached for it at that very opportune moment.
So whether she knew it or not, Raven Deverell had saved him from injury. Perhaps even saved his life, although Bourne was such a bad shot he seldom bagged a single bird when hunting, so it seemed unlikely he could have hit anything important on his target.
Raven enjoyed her mischief, but she would never seek to hurt anybody. His aunts may not believe it, but after this time spent with her, Hale knew Raven had a tender side, a heart sweeter and warmer than she wanted anybody to know.
Yet now, having stolen his attention and tricked him into bringing her here, she talked of leaving?
Over his dead body, he thought grimly.
"Did you invite me here to make me your mistress?" she said suddenly.
By now he should be accustomed to her abrupt manner of coming to the point, but it still startled.
"My mother seems to think so, your lordship...Wolf."
He cleared his throat. "I did not plan that. Certainly not."
"I didn't think you would. You don't seem to be the sort. And I wanted to let you know that I am not a side dish. I will be the main and only course, or I will not be on the menu."
Hale licked his lips where they had gone dry again. "I see. Thank you for the warning." He pondered her corset and the time it might take to get her out of it. The idea of enjoying those full curves was almost irresistible. Enough to make him consider coming down with a sudden illness so that he was not expected at dinner. But they could hardly both fall ill at the same time.
"I will be everything to a man," she said, "or I will not be his at all."
"Yes," he muttered, slightly hoarse. "I believe I comprehend." This demanding woman didn't believe that any man would ever conquer her, of course. She'd said as much at the Faulkner's party.
"Unfortunately men simply cannot be faithful to one woman," she added pertly.
Was she fishing? Well, he would not be cornered into this discussion with her now. Somehow he must retain the upper hand, before he let her addle his mind completely. "You should go back to your room," he said, sweeping a curl from her warm cheek. "We will discuss this later."
She pressed herself up on one elbow, a long, heavy swirl of sable hair falling over her shoulder to the bed. "Along with my business proposition?"
The light of an oil lamp gilded one bared shoulder where her chemise dripped down her arm. It was getting late and he really could spare no more time alone with her. Yet getting off that bed and going down to dinner seemed a dire prospect. He did not want to share this woman with his other guests. For the first time in his life he felt possessive over a woman.
Reaching for a lock of her hair, he twisted it around his finger. Had to keep his hands busy, or they might reach for her corset laces, because his fingers itched to free those tempting breasts. Each time she moved, the full, rising curves of sweet-scented flesh swayed a little closer, pushing above the lace trim, wanting their freedom, promising a feast of bountiful proportion.
Pull yourself together, Hale! You're a gentleman. And she's talking about her business proposition. Stop looking at her bubbies, you ass.
"I suppose," he managed tightly, "if I agreed to this loan, you would not want me to interfere either. Like your father I would be accused of meddling if I tried to advise you in business."
"We would have rules about that."
He felt a lazy grin lifting one side of his mouth as he wound that lock of hair around his finger. "I thought you did not care for rules?"
"I can see where they might be a benefit in this case. If we are to be business partners there must be boundaries."
"Hmm. This is a cautious side of Miss Deverell that I have not seen."
"Are you shocked that I can be sensible, Wolf?"
Watching her pouty lips made him want to kiss her again, which would only delay them further, so he released her hair and said briskly, "Go back to your room. I can hear my Aunt Serena clicking her teeth from here." And the heaviness in his loins had reached a dangerous stage.
But she still didn't move, no keener than he to leave the bed apparently. "Let me dress you first."
"Dress me?"
"I would dearly love to see inside your wardrobe."
"My wardrobe?"
"You're doing that thing again where you are very tiresome and repeat everything I say."
"Where I repeat what you say?"
She frowned and placed her palm to his cheek. "I could slap this handsome face."
"I keenly await your attempt."
But instead she planted a soft kiss on his nose and then his lips. Thus they forgot the need to dress again for several minutes, until a sharp rap at the door announced his valet had arrived to find him.
It was too late to worry about Raven's buttons which had rolled hither and thither, but Harcourt would never mention it if he saw them. He was very discreet. On the other hand, the presence on his master's bed of a half undressed young woman, was probably beyond even the sterling Harcourt's ability to remain stoic and unseeing.
He need not have worried. Raven leapt from his arms, gathered up her blouse and the riding habit, then hid herself behind the drapes while he let the valet in. As Hale slipped into a bathrobe and then took the other man through into his dressing room, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder and saw her slipping out through the door.
Hopefully his aunts were downstairs by now and she would make it all the way back to the south wing without being seen. Knowing Raven, if she was caught, she'd have a story prepared. She was more accustomed than he, to games of an irresponsible, daring nature.
"Are you quite well, my lord?" Harcourt inquired politely. "You seem a little short of breath and you are perspiring."
"No, Harcourt, I believe I am remarkably well. Better than I have felt for a long time, in fact. Rejuvenated, one might call it."
Indeed, he struggled to keep his bathrobe closed over all that rejuvenation.
* * * *
Raven would have succeeded in negotiating the corridors unseen, if not for Mary Ashford, who did not seem at all surprised to encounter her in an undone state as they collided at the final corner.
"There you are," she said smugly. "Your mama sent me to find you. She thinks you're being obstinate and not coming down for dinner to make some sort of protest, but since Hale is yet to appear I had a different idea. Which I kept to myself."
The two girls hurried to Raven's room.
"I suppose you want to know what happened, Mary." To be honest, she was not entirely sure herself, but she felt...different. Lighter. Giddy, like one of those foolish, wide-eyed girls they'd both always mocked for having a rosy, romantic view of life.
"I'd rather you didn't tell me," her friend replied. "I cannot bear the gravity of keeping secrets. And I suspect I would not be able to look Hale in the eye tonight."
With Mary's help she dressed in the scarlet gown her mother had suggested and tied her hair back in a braided knot.
"You're fortunate that I have acquired these skills since my father could no longer afford to employ a maid other than Foster, who most certainly does not have either the fingers, patience or temperament for dainty work."
"I am grateful to have your assistance, Mary."
Her friend tucked another pin into her hair and said, "Your mama thought you would come back engaged this afternoon after your ride."
Raven snorted. "I'm sure she did."
"She only wants what is best for you."
/>
"But what is best for herself comes first."
Mary sighed. "If you did not have your mother, Raven, you would miss her. Very much."
Looking at her friend's reflection in the mirror, she reached up and grabbed her hand. "Sometimes I forget that you lost yours, Mary. I'm sorry. Lately I seem to be saying the wrong thing too often. Or perhaps I have always been clumsy and tactless, and only now am I realizing my mistakes."
Her friend smiled warmly. "You are very dear to me, Raven and if I did not have you I would miss my mama even more than I do. Your company always cheers my spirits and makes an overcast day seem sunny again. I daresay that is why Hale is falling in love with you too."
"Nonsense." She felt her cheeks grow hot.
"Why else would I hear from the maid that he ordered his wife's old chamber repainted and the furnishings changed?"
"He did what?"
"Before he left the house this morning he gave his orders apparently. I didn't dare tell your mama, but she had enough evidence already to draw her own conclusions."
Raven stared at her reflection. She looked very ordinary— much the same as usual, but for a slightly higher color on her cheeks and, perhaps, an additional sparkle in her eyes. What had she done?
She had not set out to win this man's affections and yet the fact that she had them now was, without a doubt, gratifying. Hale was not a man who took such things lightly. Now he was changing his staid world. Just for her, or could it be coincidence?
"There, I think you look quite respectable now. Well...almost." Mary sorted through the open jewelry box on the dresser. "But we'd better find something to cover up that bite mark on the side of your neck, or those poor, demure ladies downstairs will choke on their sherry. Fortunately for you, I am less prone to shock."
* * * *
In the drawing room that evening before dinner, the atmosphere was thick and awkward. Only two people present seemed not to feel it: her mother and Reynaux, who talked long and merrily of any pointless subject they could find. They both enjoyed attention, of course, however it was come by, and were capable of carrying on a conversation for hours without noticing the general disinterest in the room. Her mother's tongue was aided in its smooth running by as much sherry as she could down before dinner.
Chasing Raven Page 19
