Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society ( The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

Tilda touched her chin and said,” Back straight.”

  As though her body were under her aunt’s command, she straightened.

  “Head up, shoulders back… now relax them. Excellent.” Aunt Tilda grinned.

  Genie asked, “Should she change her expression?”

  “No,” Aunt Matilda said quickly. “The shy innocence suits… if only this first time.”

  First?

  “Breathe,” Aunt Tilda said. “Good. Now, you’re ready.”

  Lorena didn’t feel ready, but no one gave her time to think further on it. In the next minute, she was walking toward the drawing room doors, which were closed, and watched as two footmen positioned themselves on either side.

  Lorena thought it all dramatic as she was positioned directly in front of the door. Without another word, they opened, and Lorena’s reminded herself of Aunt Tilda’s instruction and took a final breath.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

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  Ashwick was speaking to Calvin with the door to his back when it opened.

  Calvin, who’d been staring at him, peeked over his shoulder, and his expression completely changed before he whispered, “Bloody hell…”

  Ashwick frowned and turned around. He stopped breathing.

  Lorena stood in the entrance and was looking at the room at large with an expression of virtue, but wrapped in a garment that could only be described as temptation.

  The midnight blue paled her and made the blue of her eyes even more profound. Something had been done to her face to draw attention to her eyes… and her mouth. It seemed fuller, even softer even in the distance, and held the color of a ravished woman. Her blond curls were positioned the same in an artful way that looked done and yet slightly undone with tresses hanging by her ears and gracing her throat.

  And her breasts.

  They were basically on display, and Ashwick swore strong wind would leave her exposed.

  The rest of the room moved before Ashwick did, but no one reached Lorena before Calvin.

  He took her gloved hand and kissed it before growling, “Lorena.”

  Lorena’s smile burned at the center of Ashwick’s chest.

  Francis taking his sister from Calvin’s hold was the only action that kept Ashwick from ripping the man’s head off. Francis’ expression mirrored Ashwick’s. There was fury. “What are you wearing?”

  Lorena blinked up at him and said, “The revolution?”

  There was that word again.

  Julius crossed his arms and with his eyes never leaving Lorena’s breasts stated, “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “About?” Lorena asked in all innocence.

  “Allowing Emmett to have you.” Julius was grinning, flashing his dimples, as his eyes rose to Lorena’s. “You’re much too beautiful to be given away so easily.”

  Lorena smiled, thinking Julius only complimenting her.

  Ashwick knew he wasn’t. “Julius,” he warned.

  Julius proved him right with his next words, completely ignoring him. “Why be a countess when you can be a marchioness?” His expression was severe.

  Lorena’s eyes widened.

  “Julius,” Ashwick called.

  Julius’ violet eyes rose to Ashwick’s before he grinned.

  “Don’t settle for anything else than a dukedom, Lorena,” Morris told her, appearing out of nowhere and placing an arm at her waist.

  Lorena’s eyes were now on Morris, staring at him as though she’d never seen him before.

  Ashwick had seen and heard enough. He walked over to Lorena, pulled her from Morris’ hold, and said, “I think we’ve all teased my fiancée enough.

  “Francis said she didn’t say yes,” Calvin cut in, his eyes trained on Ashwick with a challenge. “She still has time to change her mind.”

  Ashwick said, “The next man who touches her will be meeting me at Green Park with a pistol.”

  “Well,” Francis said with a grin.

  Calvin turned to Ashwick and looked ready to meet his call to a dual.

  Mr. Taylor, their host, was sitting in the chair that was positioned in the back of the room and with his eyes fixed on Lorena, he said, “It’s like the Trojan war all over again.” Then he grinned. “Lorena, my sweet Helen of Troy.”

  “Me?” she whispered. Then she laughed. “I’m no Helen of Troy.”

  Mr. Taylor laughed. “I think I’m falling in love.”

  “You’re always falling in love,” Miss Taylor said as she strolled into the room. The other women followed her.

  Ashwick’s eyes went back to Lorena and his gaze traveled her form from up close. He realized that Lorena, with her medley of humility, spirit, and beauty could easily be any empire’s downfall. Ashwick was more than willing to fight every man in the room to have her for himself.

  Her eyes moved to his and before she could speak, he grabbed her hand and led her out of the room.

  He heard someone ask Mr. Taylor what the revolution was about. The man began to explain when he stopped in a hallway just out of hearing of the drawing room. Then he pushed Lorena against the wall and watched her plump lips part.

  Ashwick leaned forward, prepared to take her mouth with his own.

  “Dinner should be ready soon.” Jane broke the moment.

  Ashwick turned to the lady’s maid and glared at her. “Go away.”

  “No,” Lorena said.

  Jane was glaring at him and crossed her arms. “I must protect my lady’s reputation.”

  Ashwick felt his stomach burning once more.

  Lorena slid away from him and stood by her lady’s maid when she said, “I’m sure Ashwick simply wished to speak to me.” Then she looked at him expectantly.

  Ashwick leaned a shoulder against the wall. Meeting Lorena’s eyes, he said, “Pulchra es amica mea.” Or, you are beautiful, my love, in Latin.

  He didn’t have to guess whether Lorena had understood him. Her breath had caught and her well-endowed chest began to rise and fall rapidly. He knew she spoke fluent Latin and suspected that Jane had no idea what he was saying.

  A glance in her direction proved him right.

  Jane looked ready to strike Ashwick, but luckily, he saw no baskets in sight.

  So, he turned back to Lorena and told her many other things in Latin, like how he planned to strip her of that dress and where he planned to place his hands before he…

  “That’s quite enough,” Jane said, now staring at her mistress. Lorena had gone white, but her eyes were dark with desire. She wanted everything he’d promised just as much as he did, and he had every intention of fulfilling them before the night was through.

  Jane started from the room while holding Lorena’s hand. Ashwick followed closely, ensuring he’d be seated next to her at dinner. Propriety be damned. He would not have Lorena out of arm’s reach.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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  Lorena felt something heavy settle on her bed and turned to her back just in time to feel a large hand press on her belly. She was in her night rail, so easily felt the warmth of the person’s skin penetrate hers. She started to move away but Ashwick’s voice made her still.

  “My apologies for being late,” he whispered in the dark.

  Lorena’s eyes adjusted to the moonlight streaming through the open window, allowing her to see shadows in the room, but not make out his face. Still, her body warmed at having Ashwick so near and in her room. It also made her heart race. “What are you doing here?”

  “I told you what I planned to do.” He was leaning on an elbow, his head not far from hers. One hand was placed on the bed while the other moved from its position on her belly unti
l it cupped her breast.

  Lorena gasped, and her body moved toward him of its own volition. Her hands went to his shoulders and in a low voice that the hour required, she said, “You said you’d remove my dress. Jane took it off for me.”

  “I know.” His head came closer and he ran his nose against her temple, hairline, and down to her ear before he whispered, “We’ll have to arrange that for another time, but I’ll not wait on the rest.”

  Lorena felt her heart beating strongly between her legs. She tried to soothe the feeling away by moving around, but it wouldn’t go away. So, she tried to distract herself from it. “How did you get in?”

  “The door to the garden,” he told her, his breath warm on her neck. He didn’t touch her with his lips, however. He never did. She always had to be the one to start to kiss, as though he needed her permission to act.

  When his face trailed by her cheek, Lorena turned her head and brushed her lips against his. Sensations shot through her at the contact. He shuddered and she felt it vibrate against her. She did it again, running her lips over his hard mouth, but this time she had time to pull away. Ashwick had gained her permission and had taken the lead.

  His body moved over hers, and Lorena’s arms locked around him. She spread her legs, knowing exactly what her body wanted and ready for Ashwick to make it sing. Desperate for it.

  “No,” he whispered as her hips rose to him. The hand cupping her breast moved to rest on her stomach once more, and he lowered her to the bed. Then both his hands trailed down each thigh as he said, “I’ve something else in mind.”

  Lorena shook her head. “I don’t want something else.” She wanted him to remove the ache.

  He chuckled low and said, “Trust me.” His hands were now on her legs. She could see he was not wearing a shirt. His skin seemed to glow in the dark. She could only make out his shoulders and the muscles in his arms, but it was enough for her breath to catch and she wondered if the rest of him was nude. “You’ll like what I’m going to do to you much better.” His hard tone reminded her of the other promises he’d made her in Latin. To touch her.

  She wanted to believe him, believe that it would be better, but she wasn’t sure her body had time for anything else. She needed him now. “Please.”

  “Lorena,” he groaned just as he fisted the hem of her skirt. “I love your passion for this,” he growled as he began to lift her night rail.

  She knew exactly what he meant by her passion, though she was sure others would call her a wanton. And she didn’t care. She needed him.

  “Lift your hips for me,” he instructed.

  Lorena hesitated, knowing what he planned to do. He was going to expose her, and she wore nothing underneath the night rail. So, she asked, “Can’t we do this over my clothes like in the garden?”

  “This will be better,” he told her.

  “Ashwick…”

  “Lift up.”

  “Emmett.”

  She felt the material push up to her hips. Because he seemed so determined, she lifted up for him. The room was dark enough to give her some sense of modesty.

  He pulled the night rail over her head and threw it toward the floor. Lorena’s hands went to her breasts. Then his body was coming down on hers. “Move your arms.” She did and his chest settled against hers and they both groaned. She noticed then that his pants were still on, but she became distracted when his hardness pressed against her nipples. She felt the contact everywhere, but mostly in her secret place.

  Her hands moved into his hair just as he lifted his hips and settled his hand between her legs, holding her, flesh to flesh.

  “Emmett.” His name came out in a shudder.

  He growled and said, “You’re so wet, my love. My hand is drenched with you, and I’ve barely touched you at all.”

  “Is that good?” she asked between breaths.

  “Very good,” he promised in a low voice. He added pressure and began to draw circles with his palm over her.

  Lorena’s head flung back and she whimpered, believing Ashwick was right. This was better. It was very good. His hand was so warm and his fingers began to search her folds. She felt a finger slip inside her.

  She stilled, and her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

  “Relax,” he told her.

  Lorena tried, but her mind began to concentrate on what his finger was doing. “Is this proper?”

  He chuckled.

  Lorena was just about to inform him that she didn’t think laughter proper either when his palm started to circle once again. The finger he’d placed inside withdrew, only to slide back inside her. The combined feeling stole her every breath and thought.

  This was much better.

  And in seconds, she wanted more. Her body began to move, lowering on his hand when his finger thrust up. It felt amazing but wasn’t enough.

  “Emmett.”

  His head was right above hers. “What do you want, my love?” He no longer sounded like himself. His voice was lower than ever before and added to the sensations she was feeling.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  But he did.

  He sat up, moved another finger into her body, joining the first. He picked up the pace of his hand, driving his fingers into her, a feeling so sweet that Lorena started to pant a high-pitched noise.

  “Yes,” she whispered. She had to tell him it was exactly what she wanted. “Yes, yes, yes.” With her every breath, she told him yes, hoping he would never stop.

  She was slightly aware of the sound of clothing being removed and glanced down to find Ashwick’s other hand disappearing into the shadows between his legs. His arm seemed to be moving at the same pace as the hand between her legs, flexing and moving up before it went down. His breath was just as rushed at hers, and he was grunting and moaning his own pleasure.

  She rode his hand and realized the sound he made only added to her own pleasure. She felt him lean forward, down her body and his teeth settled over her nipple. He shuddered and bit her.

  Lorena flew from the bed as the sensation wound around her before exploding into millions of stars that rocked through her core and over her limbs. His hand settled over her mouth and her cry of pleasure was muffled. She continued to scream as her body slowly calmed. Then she collapsed on her sheets, feeling damp everywhere, and more exhausted than she had during their previous encounter.

  Ashwick had been right. This was better.

  He fell onto the bed at her side and snuck a hand under her back before pulling her limp body over his. Lorena settled on him, finding him to be slightly moist and extremely hot. She moaned in happiness and nestled closer.

  “Was that making love?” she asked him.

  He chuckled. “No.”

  Lorena wanted to lift her head and try and meet his gaze in the dark, but her head was far too heavy to move. “There’s more?”

  “There’s so much more,” he told her and squeezed her body close to his.

  She was scandalized. “What more could there be?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he whispered. He rolled them over so that Lorena’s back was to his front and his arms went around her.

  She leaned into her pillow and felt him settle into her.

  Her eyes remained open and she said, “Emmett, you cannot sleep here.”

  He was laughing again and whispered, “Only for an hour or so and then I’ll leave.”

  “No. You’ll be caught.”

  “I won’t.” His hand settled on her hip and he squeezed her. “Go to sleep.”

  She settled against him and let his warmth penetrate her cooled flesh. She also felt something soft pressed against her bottom and wiggled to get a better feel of it.

  Ashwick’s hand gripped her more firmly and he grunted, “Sleep, Lorena.”

  She stilled.

  He leaned up and settled a sheet over them, curling his arm around her.

  Lorena smiled in the dark and sleep claimed her once more.

 
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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

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  Lorena left her bedroom but paused when she reached the stairs. At the foot of the staircase was a statue she’d never seen before. Slowly, she descended and paused at the large marble statue of a man, thinking it looked expensive and wondering where it came from.

  The man was nude, though the place between his legs was covered by a leaf. He seemed to be looking away at something or even someone, but his demeanor said he was quite confident in his nudity. Lorena could never see herself having such a serene expression while undressed.

  Unless it was after Ashwick touched her, of course.

  He’d been gone from her bed when she woke up, with only the memory of the night to acknowledged he’d ever been there.

  When Sudworth approached, she asked, “Do you know where this came from?”

  “No, my lady. I thought you’d ordered it.”

  “Were you here when it arrived?” Lorena asked and turned to look at him.

  Her young butler shook his head. “I woke up this morning and there it was.” Then he turned his blue eyes to her and said, “You’ve guests in the drawing room.”

  “This early?” Lorena asked.

  Sudworth nodded. “The woman is the Countess of Ashwick.”

  Lorena’s eyes rounded and she gasped, wondering what Emmett’s mother was doing at her house at such an early hour. Had Emmett already shared the fact that they were engaged? She hoped he hadn’t. She wasn’t ready to meet his mother again. Their meeting at the party had been quite enough of the countess for at least a year.

  “The other lady with her is Lady May Brent.” Lady May was Emmett’s cousin and not a very nice woman at all.