“Not because you wanted to dance with me, then?”
“Well…I…” She peeped up at him, to find him smiling. “Actually, yes I would. Very much so.”
He held out his hand to her.
Viola heard the gasps of those around them as she accepted it.
“Do I need to watch out for my toes?” he asked, as he slid his arm around her waist. “I saw what you did to poor Tom.”
“It was no more than he deserved.”
“Then I’ll endeavour to keep my remarks civil. Here. You need to put your hand here.”
Oh, my! Viola gulped, realising they were to waltz. She ought to have realised it would have been included in the roster. Her mother had grown up in Vienna, and dearly loved the Spinner or Walzer, as she’d called it. They’d often danced it together, but this was the first time she’d been crushed so close to a man. William was joyously light on his feet, but it raised her pulse every time his leg brushed her skirt, and she was hyper aware of every inch where their bodies touched. She wallowed in the scent of him too. Cinnamon and cloves, mixed with that heady masculine scent all of his own. If only he was prepared to take her for his own, without any addendums to his proposal.
“I believe you may have a few takers after this,” he remarked a few minutes into the movement. “Please promise you’ll save a space on your dance card for Percy, and one or two more for me.”
“People will talk if we dance that many times.”
“Sweet Viola, people are talking already. We’re causing quite a stir. I fear they may already have matched us and married us off. We’re not going to disappoint them, are we?”
Even the potential threat of being forced into wedlock with Sir Hutsby-Mede wasn’t enough to make her plunge feet first into a different murky pool. As Aunt Clara had rightly said, they both needed to look at this with clear vision. “I can’t accept, not yet, not without telling you something first.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head. “Not here.” There were too many people close by, and she was wise enough to the ways of her peers to know they liked nothing more than to repeat things they just happened to have overheard. In any case, Percy really ought to be present too.
“Very well, but you should know that nothing you tell me will make any difference. Not to me, and not to Percy either. We know you’re the right woman for us, Viola. I can feel it in here.” He briefly held her hand to his heart, so she could feel its thud through her fingertips. “If it were possible I would make you mine now, so that we could both love you at once.”
“You oughtn’t say such things. What if you’re overheard?”
He shifted his hold, so that he could stroke the bare skin of her neck with his fingertip. Immediately, her nipples tightened to sharp points that punched against the bones of her stays. “I don’t care if they do. My intentions are entirely honourable.”
Perhaps not quite entirely.
“Do you have any idea how much I long to kiss you again?”
She blushed, and lowered her gaze.
“So coy.” He lifted her chin so that he could see her eyes. “You are so beautiful when you blush. Those little spots of colour light up your whole expression. I want to see that glow all over you, and do things to you that’ll turn you absolutely pink.”
“Yes, but you want Mr. Gilling to watch.”
“No. I don’t wish him to watch, Viola. I want him to be part of everything. He’ll touch you and rouse you just as ardently as I will. We’re both so very desperately looking forward to discovering how best to please you.”
“Please, you shouldn’t say such things.” Although in truth, she rather liked them. His words excited her almost as much as the press of his hand upon her back, and the brush of his hip as they turned. “You’ve a wicked tongue.”
“Sweetness, if you think my talk is vulgar now, just wait until I tell you where I’d like to thrust my p—”
“Shush!” she hushed him, and covered her face to hide both her outrage and laughter. “That’s the most impolite thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Then what a lot you’ve missed out on. We’ll have such fun, Viola. Please, say yes.”
“I told you, we must speak privately first. The three of us.”
“Very well, then let us do it now, before you’re so in demand, I’ve no hope of securing your attention again.” He led her from the floor and toward the pitchers of spiced wine that were being served. Having acquired two cups, he thrust one into her hands. “Drink, your expression is far too serious. Be merry, Viola or else everyone will believe me exceedingly dull, and that won’t do at all.”
She sipped at the warm beverage, as having summoned Percy with a tilt of his head, William steered her into the quieter vestibule that led to where the card tables were being housed. They were still within sight of everyone, but no longer likely to be overheard.
“Is something untoward?” Percy asked when he caught up with them.
“Viola feels she has something she needs to tell us both. As you can see, it’s clearly rather dire, because it’s sucked all the joy from her.”
“Are you sure you haven’t insulted her? Was he rude to you, Viola? He can be such a terrible cad. Lewdness, is not becoming, sir.” He addressed the latter part to William. “Must you show all your warts to her?”
“It isn’t anything he said to me. It’s something I ought to have told you.” They both stared eagerly at her waiting for her to continue. Viola took a deep breath. “I’m not what you think I am. Nor do I know if I can be the woman you want. I don’t have any experience of loving two men.” She didn’t have experience of loving even one. “What happened to me in the past wasn’t quite as people report. It was all a huge misunderstanding.”
She paused to steal herself for their reactions. They were both hanging on her every word. “I didn’t sneak off to do wicked things with those men. I stumbled upon them by accident, and then they grabbed me and we were found. I spent less time and had less contact with them than we have enjoyed, even if the kiss upon the green were discounted.”
“You weren’t…They weren’t your lovers?” Percy queried. His handsome face crumpled by a frown.
“No. I was trying to avoid somebody, and chose the wrong place to hide, that’s all.”
Her words sucked the joy right out of him. He just stared at her. Then he shook his head and kept on shaking it. Viola had never seen a man look so crestfallen, not even in the immediate aftermath of her fall from grace. Her brothers and her father hadn’t been hurt by what had happened, only angered that she’d allowed herself to compromised.
William squeezed Percy’s shoulder, and then exchanged a look.
“I’d best go,” she said. Now, before she caused any more hurt.
“No. Viola, wait.” William caught hold of her arm, and made her face him. His expression was soft and kind, though his eyes burned with raw emotion. “The past doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. What’s important is whether you’re willing to let us love you now?”
She shook her head. It was no use. “I don’t even know what that entails. You both understand what you want, but I don’t know what that is, or even if I’m capable of giving it.”
“You are.”
“It’s a risk. What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.” He tried to tug her closer. “Please, Viola.”
“Forget it, Will. She’s given her answer.”
“No she hasn’t. Not truly.” He grasped both of her hands and held them within his. “Tell me what reassurance I can offer. Anything?”
She shook her head. She didn’t know. “I fear I’ll only disappoint you. I don’t want to trap you.” She knew only too well how that felt. “I don’t know if there’s room in my heart.”
“There is. There’s room in every person’s heart for more than one lover. It’s only convention that says we must restrict ourselves. I know you’re hesitant, Viola, and your reasons are admirable, but please, don’
t dismiss us yet. Get to know us.”
“In one night?” That’s all she had. “How?”
“Come to us,” Percy said abruptly. “If you want to know how it will be, then let us show you.”
“Percy,” William snapped in warning. “Remember you’re talking to a lady.”
Percy rolled his eyes. “I’m only saying what you’d like to, and I dare say you’ve whispered a vulgar thought or two into her ear already as you danced.”
William cast him a wounded look. “Might I remind you that we’re guests here?”
Unrepentant, Percy folded his arms across his chest. “We’re in the blue room, in the north wing,” he told her, ignoring William’s huff of outrage. “By two o’clock things should be quiet. If you want us, if you have any affection for us or desire for this match, then come to us and let us open your eyes as to how it will be. I don’t believe we’ll disappoint.”
“I can’t…”
Percy pressed his hands together as if in prayer and tapped them against his lips. “So be it.” He shrugged, then bowed stiffly and turned on his heels. Viola watched his retreating back.
“I’m sorry,” William apologised, squeezing her hands again before he released his grip upon them. “I’m afraid he longed for this too much, and I built up his hopes.” He peeped awkwardly at her, with his brows drawn low. “I ought to go after him. Please forgive him for causing offence. He shouldn’t have said such things.”
He nodded to her. Then captured her hand once more and raised her knuckles to meet his lips, bidding her goodbye in the way he’d originally greeted her. “And Viola, never do anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” Then he too left her.
Chapter Seven
“Are you decided, Viola?”
Aunt Clara still sat by the fireside when she returned to the old nursery. “You’re back a little earlier than I anticipated.”
“Sir Hutsby-Mede!” Viola protested, needing an outlet for all the mixed emotions she was feeling. “I can’t believe you would allow father to marry me to that man.”
Her aunt stopped knitting in order to look at her. “Whatever are you blabbering about, girl? It’s not Sir Hutsby-Mede your father has in mind for you. Not unless something radical has happened between luncheon and this moment.”
“It isn’t? But Tom prompted him to ask me to dance.”
“Your brother takes great delight in stirring trouble. Come and sit down, and tell me what has happened. I sense something else is troubling you besides Thomas’ mischief.”
Viola drew close to the fire, after the heat of the crowded salon, the nursery wing seemed particularly cold and dreary. “If it’s not Hideous Hutsby, then who is it?”
Her aunt smiled, “Gracious, you must be able to guess. The man’s admired you since you were small.”
Viola shook her head. Since she was small. What man had even known her then? “Mr. Bellshawe!” she blurted not a moment later. “Surely you’re not serious. He’s older than father. I think he remembers the Tea Act being passed.” She sank heavily into chair, no more able to envisage life as Mrs. Lawrence Bellshawe, than she was able to countenance a life as the wife of Sir Hutsby-Mede. Though at least she imagined Mr. Bellshawe would be kind, and that had been her wish all those hours ago. Maybe she ought to be contented and accept that, and not think about William’s kisses, and what he claimed he’d like to do to her.
“Tell me what occurred with Lord Ricborough. Did you give him an answer?”
“Not precisely.”
“It’s not like you, Viola, to dither so much. It’s clear from looking at you, that he’s won your heart, so tell me why you’re head’s in rebellion.”
She shook her head, still unwilling to divulge her concerns. They were the sorts of concerns best kept to one’s self. It would only endanger William and Percy to voice remarks anyway. So they sat in silence, except for the clack of the knitting needles.
“If you’re averse to Mr. Bellshawe, then you need to settle whatever is concerning you with regards to Lord Ricborough, my dear, and time is running out. Let’s hope he’s not the sort that sleeps horribly late.”
“I imagine he does.”
“Ah well,” Aunt Clara reached across and patted her knee.
“What should I do?” Viola pleaded a moment later.
“Dear, didn’t I already say? You must do whatever it takes to settle the matter.”
Whatever it takes? That would mean doing as Percy requested, and visiting them in their room. She was worldly enough to realise that ravishment would be the result. Percy didn’t mean for them to talk things through. He meant for them to bed her.
A knot of fear tightened in her stomach, only to be immediately unravelled by a throb of longing. Ravishment didn’t seem so very terrible a proposition when she thought about it. She passed her hand across her lips, remembering William’s kiss, and the heat of the two men pressed to her front and back. She wondered if Percy’s kisses would make her shiver in exactly the same way.
“I think I’ll retire now,” she said. She needed to think this through some more. After all, if they were caught she’d be doubly disgraced, and likely the only topic of conversation from Edinburg to Bath for the whole of the coming year.
Then again, if she could survive that once, she could weather it twice.
And William had offered for her. They wouldn’t be the first couple to tumble together before their vows were spoken. She’d worry about how Percy’s involvement could be explained away later, after she’d discovered the way in which the three of them could fit together.
“Promise you won’t be vexed with me if I do something exceedingly foolish,” she whispered as she kissed her aunt good night.
“Better you’re foolish than you live in regret for half a century.”
Viola suspected there was a story behind that she wasn’t privy to.
Once alone in her room, she changed into her night rail and braided her hair. If she was going to go to them, then she first needed to wait until the assigned hour. Her candle burned down, and the hour hand on the mantle clock slowly turned. Aunt Clara was right. Her heart knew what it desired. It longed for Lord Ricborough’s arms around her. His body pressed close to her, but she was excited by the prospect of Percy Gilling’s kisses too. The only thing to face here were her own fears, and had she not already spent enough of her life afraid? Hiding had never served her well in the past, so why choose to do so now? Why not instead accept the risk and live?
***
The blue room was not an easy room to reach in the dead of night across creaking floorboards. Viola put on her softest pumps so that she might creep across the far too creaky floorboards making the minimum amount of sound.
Too bad she didn’t even make it past the first hurdle.
The clock struck two, but Aunt Clara still remained perfectly alert in her chair by the fire. Unable to slip out that way, Viola retreated back into her room. She’d have to wait or find a different route. But what route? She crossed to the French windows to peep out at the snow-covered fields and the bright moonlight. Everything seemed so crisp and clean.
She could see the windows of the north wing from her balcony, and that gave her an idea. What if she didn’t go through the house, but used a route no one would ever consider. Aunt Clara would believe she was in her room fast asleep.
Snow seeped through the fabric of her shoes, as Viola crept out onto her balcony. The wind was biting, but she bound her shawl tight about her shoulders, and girded her loins in a manner she’d once seen in a book so that her legs were free to move, then swivelled herself over the balustrade and onto the narrow ledge between her balcony and the next. She clung tight to the wall, as she inched her way along, and refused to look down. There were only twelve icy ledges between her and her future.
Chapter Eight
“It would seem that Miss Marsh has chosen to accept your offer after all, unless you suppose the sprite outside is some other being.” Will remarked, rais
ing his hand to shield his eyes from the candle glare.
Percy released his lover’s cock from his mouth, to complain, “That’s not funny, Will.” Being worse for wear on drink wasn’t an excuse for making light of a sensitive topic. Percy had never actually believed Viola would come. He’d already realised when he’d suggested it that she’d decided that what they were asking of her was too scandalous and too big a risk. She wasn’t the woman he’d hoped for at all. Leastways, that was what he was trying to convince himself. Actually, he was doing his damnedest to let go of his thoughts of her altogether by focussing all his attention on Will. It’d been working too, until Will had spoken.
“It wasn’t a jest. She’s actually come.”
Percy turned his head, resting his cheek against Will’s thigh so he could look toward the door to their room. He’d heard no knock, and there was no glow of candlelight seeping around the frame. Evidently Will was more inebriated than he’d realised, if he was hallucinating things.
“Not there. Outside the window.” Will pushed him off. “Go. Let her in before she catches her death.”
Percy stumbled to his feet. “You’re serious?” All he could see were windowpanes caked with rime, and how the devil could she have got out their anyway, without wings or an exceedingly long ladder? He opened the French doors, but the balcony appeared empty save for a few sad looking potted shrubs. “Miss Marsh?” he enquired softly, feeling faintly ridiculous, not to mention chilly. “Viola, are you there?”
“To your right,” Will informed him. “She has her enchanting derriere pressed tight to the glass, and a pleasanter sight I’ve not seen in a long while. Well, besides the vision that’s your derriere.” The latter, Percy was relieved to report was not currently on display, but concealed by his breeches and shirttails. If Viola truly was here, most likely the sight of him naked wasn’t the sort of greeting she’d be anticipating.
The Kissing Bough Page 4
