My Lady's Pleasure

by Julia Justiss

  Not that she wished to actually meet him. Indeed, her cheeks heated at the very thought. How could she look in his face and not remember in scorching detail his lips on hers, his mouth moving over sensitive areas of her body that a lady dare not even name? Or offer her hand without recalling the touch of those sure, knowing fingers?

  But…to catch a glimpse of his handsome face in a crowd, to overhear the music of that lilting voice…to have tangible proof that the lover who had given her so incredible an interlude was flesh and not a chimera born of her lonely imagination…ah, that would be bittersweet joy.

  By the time they’d finished greeting their hostess and her blushing daughter, Sir William had reached them.

  “Ladies, how lovely you look this evening,” he said with a bow. “Let me escort you upstairs.”

  He truly was an amiable gentleman, Valeria thought as she put her hand on his arm. Tall, with a lean, serious face, his dark hair touched with gray, Sir William Parham was a distant connection of Hugh’s who had lost his wife two years previous. With three small daughters and no heir, he was known to be looking out for a second wife.

  Valeria was more than a bit suspicious that Lady Winterdale had urged Sir William to consider Valeria for that role. Though she’d grown fond of the old woman and come to appreciate the concern behind the imperious facade, theirs still was a rather tempestuous relationship. Valeria, long mistress of her own establishment, did not take kindly to Lady Winterdale’s managing ways.

  In the matter of Sir William, she had to admit, apparently the old tartar was crafty enough not to try to force her choice on Valeria. Or perhaps she’d realized after their first few encounters that any attempt to bully her granddaughter-in-law, who could be just as obstinate and unyielding as Lady Winterdale herself, would most likely result in Valeria’s doing the exact opposite.

  Would she be attracted to Sir William, were it not for Lady Winterdale’s interference? Valeria studied him covertly as, skillfully dividing his attention between the ladies on either arm, he turned to amuse Lady Farrington with a fulsome compliment. His manners were excellent, his conversation intelligent and his interests far-ranging. His attentions to Valeria were particular enough that she had no doubt of his intentions, yet not so familiar as to make her uncomfortable.

  As Lady Farrington claimed, Sir William would make some fortunate lady an excellent husband. Valeria just wasn’t sure an excellent husband was what she truly wanted.

  Would her pulse race if he took her in his arms? Would his kiss make her blood quicken and her bones seem to dissolve…as a certain other gentleman’s had done?

  Would she look on him in a more favorable light if a charming rogue had not opened her eyes to pleasures far beyond what she’d imagined possible?

  Having once tasted such pleasure, Valeria would never again consider binding herself to a man without it. Unfortunately, with an honorable gentleman who was considering making one a proposal of marriage, one could not discuss—or sample—the degree of pleasure obtainable without ending up with a betrothal ring on one’s finger.

  Valeria had not settled in her mind how she might solve that conundrum when they reached the ballroom. After escorting Lady Farrington to a comfortable chair beside her friends, Sir William bore Valeria off to join the dancing.

  Just inside the entry of the Insley town house, Teagan paused to take a deep breath. Rafe had been right; allowing Insley to talk him into stopping by the ball was a mistake. He might well be ejected forthwith, and at the very least, would probably embarrass his earnest young friend or the lad’s mother.

  But before Teagan could tap Insley’s sleeve to tell him he’d changed his mind, his eye was caught by one of the dancers at the edge of the ballroom above. A slender, graceful sprite of a lady, delicate as a butterfly in a gown of pale gold as she dipped and swayed through the movements of the dance on the arm of her dark-clad escort.

  It couldn’t be…and yet the shiver of awareness over his skin, the pull of connection that nearly impelled him to leave Insley’s side and go to her, all clamored that it was indeed his Lady Mystery, somehow transported from the depths of Yorkshire to this London ballroom.

  Trying to keep an eye on her, Teagan let Insley lead him forward, knowing it was now too late to retreat. Nor, despite the difficulties of finessing his way into Lady Insley’s soiree, did he wish to leave.

  He had no business intruding into the life of a respectable widow—and yet both the simmering desire the mere sight of her ignited in him and a deeper longing for something pure, honest and untainted by vanity drew him irresistibly.

  That, and a natural curiosity to discover how a purse-pinched widow had ended up at this ton party in a stylish new gown.

  He’d seek her out for a few moments—surely he could do that without irretrievably besmirching her reputation. Somehow he had to charm his hostess into permitting him to stay at the ball long enough to speak with Lady Arnold.

  Chapter Six

  A fter the dance ended, as Lady Arnold rose from the final curtsy, she happened to look down—straight at Teagan. Her eyes widening, the lady froze.

  Teagan felt his lips curving into a smile so automatic and instinctive he was helpless to prevent it. Their gazes held, time halting in the power of that glance.

  Then her eyes warmed with delight, and an answering smile lit her face—a smile that quickly faded as she must have realized the impossibility of publicly acknowledging him. But not before the heat of it rocked him to the core.

  A tug at his sleeve brought his attention back to Insley. “There’s Mama. Let me present you.”

  Teagan sucked in a deep breath. Now for the difficult part. Squaring his shoulders, he summoned up a smile and followed Insley, who came behind his mama to tap her arm.

  “Holden, there you are at last!” she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder. “I should read you quite a scold, coming so tardy to your own sister’s ball. But I’m sure Marianne will be glad to have you, late though it be.”

  “I’ve brought a friend, Mama.” Insley stepped aside and beckoned Teagan forward.

  Teagan made his hostess a deep bow. “A charming party, ma’am.”

  Lady Insley’s smile died and she looked over at her son in unconcealed dismay. The fair skin of Insley’s face reddened, but with a quick movement of his head he indicated that Teagan should stand his ground. “You’ll remember Mr. Fitzwilliams, Mama. And remember also how indebted we are to him.”

  “Y-yes,” she said, moistening her lips. “Indeed, but…I scarcely think Marianne’s ball is the proper place—”

  “To acknowledge a gentleman who has performed us a singular service? Then what would be proper, ma’am?”

  Avoiding Teagan’s eye, Lady Insley leaned toward her son, her voice lowered. “Holden, you cannot expect me…”

  By now, a group of onlookers had stopped chatting and were watching with avid interest. Teagan hoped the humiliation twisting in his gut wasn’t coloring his face. “Perhaps I’d best leave, Insley,” he said quietly.

  “If my friend is not welcome, Mama, then I will not stay, either.”

  “Holden!” Insley’s mother reached an imploring hand toward her son. Stone-faced, he ignored it, waiting.

  Before the small crisis could escalate further, another gentleman stepped from behind Teagan.

  “Insley, Fitzwilliams,” Lord Riverton said, offering his hand to each in turn. “Good evening. Lady Insley, your lord husband has just been telling me of the kindness young Fitzwilliams recently rendered the family.”

  His hostess goggled at him. “H-he has?”

  “Indeed,” Riverton replied. “I must say, I’ve known Mr. Fitzwilliams since Oxford, and always thought him a capital fellow. This latest incident just confirms that. But Lady Insley, we must not keep these gentlemen from the floor when young ladies are in need of partners. Let me procure you some refreshment.” He offered his arm.

  Lady Insley stood a moment, obviously torn between acceding to the direc
tion of her son and this distinguished guest, and avoiding the probable outrage of the watchful mamas present should she allow this rogue of the first order to mingle among their innocent daughters.

  Evidently lacking the mettle to withstand two determined gentlemen, with a sigh she capitulated. “M-Mr. Fitzwilliams,” she murmured, giving him the barest nod of recognition. “I…I believe I should like a glass of punch,” she said to Riverton, and latched on to his arm as if desperate to flee the scene of imminent disaster.

  Though Teagan had indeed encountered the cabinet minister at Oxford and occasionally at subsequent social engagements, he couldn’t imagine why Riverton should have come to his rescue. Whatever the reason, he was exceedingly grateful. He gave the older gentleman a quick nod, which Riverton acknowledged with a wink before leading his hostess away.

  “I didn’t know you and Riverton were friends,” Insley said.

  “Neither did I,” Teagan replied ruefully. But his mystification over Riverton’s unexpected assistance was quickly submerged in a rising excitement. Now all he needed was an introduction, and he could speak again with his Lady Mystery.

  “Insley, did you notice the slender dark lady in the golden gown dancing the cotillion when we entered?”

  “You must mean Lady Arnold. Lovely, isn’t she?”

  “Exceptional. Would you introduce me?”

  “If you’ve the courage to brave her chaperone.”

  “Follow me,” Teagan said, and led him to the stairs.

  After a quick search, nerves dancing in anticipation, Teagan urged Insley across the crowded ballroom toward the far corner, where he spied Lady Arnold in conversation with an older lady and a tall gentleman.

  He knew the instant she perceived their approach. The rigidly restrained anger that always smoldered in his gut flared briefly as he halted, silently damning his lurid reputation, for this time no welcoming warmth preceded the alarm that widened her eyes and drained the color from her cheeks. Something sharp and hurtful stabbed at his chest.

  Well, ’twas only one way to reassure her. Teagan propelled Insley forward again.

  Lady Arnold was even lovelier close up than she’d appeared at a distance. The soft canary-yellow of her gown set off her pale skin and the burnished richness of her dark hair, arranged atop her head in a charming confection of curls. The garment itself was a masterpiece of titillation, the tiny puff sleeves emphasizing her slender arms and elegant shoulders, the low décolletage instantly drawing his eye to the taunting swell of her breasts.

  Silky bare skin, soft heavy mounds he had nuzzled and licked and kissed. Simmering desire intensified to a hunger that hammered him, sharp and urgent. For an instant he was captured by the absurd fantasy of carrying her off here and now, perhaps outside to the night-shadowed gardens or to some conveniently vacant adjacent chamber.

  Distracted by the unprecedented ferocity of his need, eyes fixed on her downcast face like a mariner navigating to a lighthouse’s beacon, Teagan at last reached her. Wanting to allay her alarm as swiftly as possible, he nodded for Insley to speak.

  “Sir William, ladies, how nice to see you,” Insley said on cue. “Lady Farrington, I’ve brought someone I believe your lovely protégée has not yet met. Please allow me to present my good friend, Mr. Fitzwilliams.”

  Ironic amusement curled Teagan’s lip as Lady Farrington, consternation on her face, threw a panicked glance at the frowning Sir William. She obviously considered Teagan not at all the sort of gentleman she should allow her charge to meet, but since he was being presented by her hostess’s son, she could find no polite grounds to refuse. After clearing her throat several times, she stuttered, “Y-yes, of course, Lord Insley.”

  The subtle insult of that long hesitation stung no less for being expected. But all Teagan’s irritation faded as he looked back at Lady Arnold. After inhaling sharply, as if she’d been holding her breath, she smiled at him.

  ’Twas like basking in the first warm sunshine of spring after a long, frigid winter. His spirits lightening, Teagan bowed. “Lady Arnold. ’Tis utterly charmed I am to meet so captivating an addition to our London society.”

  “Mr. Fitzwilliams,” she murmured, dropping a curtsy.

  He yearned for that smile, the music of her voice, the warmth of her small hand resting on his arm. He simply had to capture her for a dance or a stroll before her conscientious chaperone found a way to dispatch him.

  “This is your first visit to London, I understand,” he asked, breaking the strained silence. “Won’t you take a turn about the room with me, Lady Arnold? I should love to hear your impressions of our vast city.”

  Her smile faltered a bit. “I…I’m not sure—”

  “Please,” he added softly, holding out his arm.

  After a short pause, during which his eyes implored hers in wordless entreaty, she took it.

  The spark of contact sizzled through them. Teagan exulted as her breath hitched in a gasp, her hand clenched involuntarily upon his sleeve. Ah yes, that interlude in the hayloft had been no aberration. The passion running molten in his veins still scorched her, too.

  While Sir William sputtered a protest, Teagan said to Lady Farrington, “Do not fear, madam. I shall restore her to you shortly,” and urged Lady Arnold into motion.

  For a few moments they walked in silence while, holding his inexplicably fierce desire in check, Teagan contented himself with devouring her with his eyes. After they’d distanced themselves from her party, Lady Arnold glanced up, and blushed once more.

  “Really, Mr. Fitzwilliams, you must not look at me like that,” she murmured.

  Once again, her utter lack of flirtatiousness enchanted him. “And how is that, pray?”

  “As if you wished to…” Apparently deciding it was best not to complete the thought, she continued with a touch of exasperation. “You know very well how you’re looking at me.”

  “How else should I look at a beautiful lady?”

  “Oh, do stop trying to put me to the blush. You’ll make me cross, and then it will be very difficult to express the gratitude I owe you for not…giving way that we’d already met.”

  His amusement faded. “Ah, my singular reputation. Did you really fear I would embarrass you so?”

  “Oh, no!”

  Surprised—and gratified—by her immediate denial, Teagan nodded at her. “Thank you for that.”

  “It’s just I had no idea what you would say, and feared I might not be able to fall in line quickly enough to avoid upsetting Lady Farrington’s delicate sensibilities. Or arousing Sir William’s suspicions.”

  Glancing back to the corner, Teagan found Parham watching them, lips set in a thin line, and instinctively he gripped her hand a bit tighter. You’ll not claim my Lady Mystery, you bastard, he thought.

  “Why, should anyone hint that there seemed to be some prior acquaintance, you need only say that we saw each other from a distance while riding in Yorkshire, but were never properly introduced.”

  She uttered a smothered choke of laughter he found totally charming. “You are the most complete hand!”

  “You malign me, dear lady! Is that not perfect truth? The trick, of course, is in knowing how much to tell. Didn’t you learn that in childhood? Or were you too much a paragon to need the knack?”

  She laughed in earnest then. “Hardly a paragon! But much as a glib tongue might have proved useful, I’m afraid I haven’t one. I found early on that Papa could always tell if I tried to ‘adjust’ the truth. The punishment was generally lighter if I simply owned up to my fault rather than—vainly, it generally turned out—tried to talk my way out of it. Now you, I’d wager—” she smiled at him “—can probably spin a tale with the best of them.”

  “Ah, yes,” he replied, more than a hint of irony in his tone, “as everyone in this room is doubtless dying to warn you, I’m a pure master of the ability to deceive.”

  She glanced quickly around, as if suddenly conscious they were attracting no small amount of attention. �
��Ah. I take it your presence is not generally…appreciated at such gatherings as this?”

  “No,” he said shortly, regretting that truth for perhaps the first time since his Oxford disgrace. “However, Lady Farrington’s credit is such that I believe your reputation can stand a single turn about the room in my company without suffering irremediable harm.”

  She shook her head in mild reproof. “Once again you would have me believe you are no gentleman, but you shall not succeed. Arranging a proper introduction tonight, as if we truly were meeting for the first time, as well as your…previous behavior, all give the lie to that claim. And I hope I’m not so pudding-hearted as to be afraid of a little gossip. Though the ability to dissemble well might be a useful skill. Perhaps one that, ancient though I’ve become, I should still attempt to master.”

  ’Twas nonsensical that her defense of his character should move him, but it did. “Don’t change, I beg you,” he said more fervently than he’d intended. He tried to soften his vehemence with a smile. “Your honesty and innocence are all too rare.”

  Once again, his compelling gaze captured hers. After a moment, with a shaky laugh, she looked away. “What an odd notion you have of me indeed. I admit to honesty, but I’m hardly a saint, and no one growing up amongst the army in the wilds of India could be thought an innocent.”

  Lighten the tone, he chastised himself. Where had all his easy, practiced wiles fled? He must amuse her, lure her to linger on his arm. Make the most of what he knew, now fully conscious of Sir William glowering at them, might well be Teagan’s only opportunity to speak with her.

  “But I haven’t asked you what I set out to discover. So, Lady Arnold, what brought you to London?”

  She gave him a look that was almost—apologetic. “At the time we…met, I had no notion of coming here. Lady Winterdale, my late husband’s grandmother, unexpectedly summoned me to visit her. She offered to frank my way, and I wished to see the city my brother had described to me with much enthusiasm, so here I am—under her niece Lady Farrington’s chaperonage, as Grandmamma does not go out.”