He couldn’t say he was surprised to see Andrew had moved up to sit beside Gina. His brother enjoyed women, all women, but he knew Andrew wasn’t taking advantage. Andrew glanced back, started to rise, but Rexton signaled to him to stay as he was. He leaned toward Lady Landsdowne. “No sense in disturbing your sister.”
With a nod, she allowed him to assist her in sitting on the row behind. He took his place beside her, which was where he’d wanted to be all night. She intrigued him in a thousand different ways and possessed a dignity he could not help but admire.
He found himself wishing she was the one Garrett Hammersley had asked him to court.
At least with him sitting beside her, she couldn’t erroneously imagine his gaze was focused on her. When she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, she could see his attention was directed forward, away from her. Still being this close to him made her all the more aware of him.
His kindness in the hallway after her encounter with Wickham had nearly brought her to tears. It had been so very long since anyone besides Gina had shown her true concern. If she were honest, she couldn’t claim Downie would have threatened to break fingers on her behalf. He’d never been the jealous sort. She wasn’t even certain he’d been jealous of her encounter with the footman. Furious, yes. Embarrassed beyond reason, yes. Mortified, certainly. His pride had taken a blow. But his heart bruised? She doubted it.
She couldn’t ascertain why Rexton had made the threat. He wasn’t interested in her. Was it merely because of her relationship to Gina? Would he extend his protection of her sister beyond Gina to encompass Tillie? She didn’t want to like him for it, but she did. Still she was bothered he’d come to look for her at all, that in doing so he’d abandoned Gina. Not abandoned her entirely—he’d left his brother to keep her company.
She was striving to find fault with him because of her own reactions to his nearness, because of this damned awareness of him that plagued her. His scent circled about her and eased into the marrow of her bones. She wanted to reach out and squeeze Rexton’s gloved hand where it rested on his muscular thigh. She wanted him to reach out and take hers. When his hand had curled over her shoulder, she’d felt the warmth as though he wasn’t wearing gloves. She was actually glad to have him sitting nearer to her. Which was unconscionable.
What if she’d worn her favorite gown—not because of pride as she’d surmised—but because secretly she’d wanted him to notice her? She wouldn’t overtly attempt to steal away a man who was showing interest in Gina—but what if there was a horrible part of her willing to do it covertly?
The man drew her attention and held on to it like a conqueror who would relinquish none of the lands he held. The irony was that he didn’t realize the effect he had on her—and that she didn’t have the same effect on him. Which was all good news for Gina. Rexton appeared to be loyal, but Tillie knew all too well that appearances were deceiving.
Thank God, the curtains finally closed. Clapping enthusiastically Gina leaped to her feet. Tillie followed suit even though she had no idea if the performances were worthy of such exuberance. It didn’t matter. The thing was at an end, and she’d finally be free of the confines of the small box, the nearness of Rexton. Even the thought of facing all the censorious gazes brought her no apprehension. She’d wade through hell for the chance to escape his nearness in a way that didn’t make it obvious she was running away.
Smile wide, Gina swung around. “My lord, that was wonderful. Thank you so much.”
His grin was a bit self-mocking. “I had nothing at all to do with the performances.”
“But you brought us, allowed us to sit in your box. That was so very kind of you.”
“It was my pleasure. I don’t think my box has ever been graced with such beauty.”
“I can attest to the truth of that,” Lord Andrew said. “I daresay I regret I have other plans and must dash off.”
Reaching out, Gina touched his arm. “Thank you, my lord, for keeping me company when my sister and your brother needed a bit of air.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Hammersley. I do hope our paths will cross again.”
“As do I, my lord.”
He nodded toward Tillie. “Lady Landsdowne.”
Then he was gone, but she could see speculation in Rexton’s gaze as though he were contemplating his brother’s words, suspected something was afoot. He returned his attention to them. “I’m in no rush to weather the crowds. Perhaps we should give them a chance to thin out.”
“That would be lovely,” Gina said. “I rather felt as though I were trapped in a coffin when we were making our way here.”
He waved his hand over the chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
“I’d rather stand,” Tillie said. Standing gave her a bit of distance from him. “But ceremony be damned. You needn’t remain on your feet.”
“I welcome the opportunity to stretch a bit.”
And she had the unsettling feeling he knew exactly why she wasn’t placing her bottom on the cushion: because she didn’t want to be so near him that she could inhale his fragrance.
“Did you enjoy the play, my lord?” Gina asked.
Had she not noted his comment earlier when he’d referenced detesting plays? Truly, she needed to speak with her sister about paying more attention to what was said. She couldn’t be responsible for translating all of Rexton’s musings or identifying their purpose.
“I enjoyed the pleasure that wreathed your face as you watched the performances,” he said smoothly.
His words seemed sincere, which left Tillie feeling like an utter nincompoop for believing for even a moment she’d been able to sense him watching her. Why would he have any interest in a woman with her reputation? He came from one of the most powerful and well-respected families in Great Britain. He, himself, was free of scandal. His behavior was touted as an example for the younger lords to follow.
Having her in his presence probably turned his stomach. He tolerated her because he had a care for her sister. She was silly to believe it was anything else.
That he hadn’t exhibited any unkind tendencies toward Tillie was evidence that she should welcome him as a suitable suitor for her sister. And yet Gina seemed far too innocent for a man of his experience. He might not have been caught in any scandals but she doubted he was completely without sin.
“Perhaps we can come again,” Gina said.
He laughed softly, as though amused.
“Gina,” Tillie chastised. “One does not invite oneself on an outing with a gentleman.”
“Then how will he know I’m interested? He might be too shy to ask otherwise.”
“I doubt his Lordship possesses a shy bone in his entire body.”
“Been paying a good deal of attention to my body, Lady Landsdowne?” he asked in a soft purr that would have been inappropriate under any circumstances but particularly so in the presence of her virginal sister. “Think you know all aspects of me, do you?”
A whirlwind of heated air seemed to consume her. She’d once been in the desert. She’d felt cooler then. “When you speak, please consider my sister’s innocence.”
“I’m not that innocent,” Gina declared.
Tillie snapped her head around to give her sister a warning look. Men applauded women who were unknowing in the ways of men and fornication. A shame really. Although understandable. While she had the experience, she couldn’t quite bring herself to sit Gina down and have a frank discussion with her regarding what would occur on her wedding night. “You’re more innocent than you probably think.”
“I know about men’s bodies. I’ve seen statues.”
“They are hardly the same.”
“I don’t know. When I first met Lord Rexton, I rather envisioned him posing for Michelangelo. That he could have served as the inspiration for David. Didn’t you?”
“No! Absolutely not!” She was horrified Gina had spouted such nonsense, more horrified that she had indeed had the exact fleeting though
t that Gina had voiced. “Young ladies do not say such things.”
It didn’t help matters that Rexton was chuckling. “That would make me rather ancient, Little One.”
She was struck with the realization he had a pet name, an endearment for Gina. Horrible sister that she was, Tillie felt it like a stab in her chest.
Gina’s eyes widened. “Would you pose in the nude for an artist, my lord?”
“Gina, do not ask such personal questions,” Tillie chastised. She did not want images of Rexton in the buff filling her head. She did not. She did not. She did not. “You are going to cause his Lordship to reconsider his courting you.”
“Lord Andrew told me men enjoy a bit of the naughty.”
“Not in a wife!” She glared at Rexton. “You should not have left your brother alone with her.”
“I doubt he did any real harm.”
“No harm at all,” Gina piped up. “We only talked.”
Thank God for small favors although what they’d talked about was apparently inappropriate. Rexton seemed to be enjoying this exchange far too much. They needed to leave before Gina said anything else untoward. “I believe the crowd has dispersed sufficiently. We should be off.”
Rexton stepped back, indicating Gina should precede him. Her sister headed for the draped doorway. Tillie had taken only a step when he placed his hand on her arm, stilling her actions. She glanced back at him.
“For any woman who asked, I would pose in the nude, artist or no.”
And there were those damned images she didn’t want crowding into her mind. She glared at him. “You’re incorrigible. Hardly the sort of gentleman I want for my sister.”
That salvo sobered him and he bowed his head slightly in acquiescence. “You’re right to take me to task.”
“She truly is innocent, my lord, and we should both be glad of it.” Gathering her skirts, she marched into the hallway. Gina was waiting. When Rexton joined them, he offered only Gina his arm. Thank goodness as Tillie would have refused it, no doubt embarrassing him and herself. But she didn’t want to feel that firm arm because it made her think of other firm things. She trudged ahead. As they were descending the stairs, she heard Gina say, “I did feel rather sorry for your brother, my lord. If not for us, he would have been forced to watch the play alone. That’s rather sad.”
“I assure you, Miss Hammersley, he would not have minded.”
When they reached the lobby, Tillie said, “He’s probably involved with an actress, Gina.”
“Truly?”
Waiting until her sister caught up and fell into step beside her, she said, “You’re a bit more innocent than you realize, Gina.”
“Imagine the stories she could tell.”
Yes, Tillie was rather certain the Greystone spare was with the woman for the stories. Over Gina’s head, Rexton met Tillie’s gaze, his eyes dancing with mirth. While it might be funny in one way, in another it worried her to distraction.
Take care with her heart, my lord.
He grew somber, as though he’d read her plea in her eyes. She should have taken satisfaction in the fact he was so attuned to her. Instead it made her realize that never before had she been able to communicate so effectively with a man. And here, she could do it with the last man she cared to.
Damnation but he needed a woman. After delivering the ladies to their residence, he’d been able to stay in his retreating coach for all of five minutes before banging on the ceiling to signal to the driver to stop the conveyance. As soon as it halted, he leaped out. “I’ll be walking, Mick. Carry on home.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He’d had two women in his coach, yet the fragrance of only one tormented him. Lavender and orchids assailed his nostrils, stirred his desires, made him as hard as a rock. He inhaled deeply a breath of London air that didn’t seem to help clear his lungs. It was as though her scent had woven itself into the very fabric of his clothing, the essence of his skin, and made its home there.
Allowing his long strides to lead him toward he knew not where, he soundly cursed Lady Landsdowne. Tillie. He longed to catch glimpses of the girl she might have been. Tonight her defenses had been up. He’d wager half his fortune that if pressed she would be unable to describe the story that had taken place upon the stage. Although she could bluff her way through by telling him anything at all—the tale of a princess and a pirate falling in love—and he wouldn’t be able to call her on it as he’d never taken his attention from her.
Which was the reason his body was thrumming and aching with need. Need that would go unsatisfied, because as he slowed his steps he admitted he didn’t want just any woman, he wanted her.
The very last thing he should desire because she wasn’t the one who would give him access to the stallion. She wasn’t the one upon whom he was supposed to shower his attentions. She was a woman with no morals, no honor, no decency. No discreetness.
He damned his cock to hell for not giving a bloody damn.
I need a man.
She couldn’t recall ever having that particular thought before, but as she sat in her nightgown in the plush chair in the sitting area of her darkened bedchamber the litany echoed through her mind.
I need a man.
But even as the words served as a sinful siren, she knew not any gent would do. Only Rexton. The gloriously beguiling man whose mere presence kept her warm and on edge.
She’d been on this earth a mere quarter of a century and she was living as though her life were over, secluded away as though she could infect people with some strange disease. As uncomfortable as it had been going to the theater, she’d still felt a measure of triumph. She’d survived. She wanted to attend more plays and have more interaction with people. It wasn’t a possibility here in London, but once Gina was situated, she could return to New York. She’d never planned to stay here. The memories were too unpleasant, the people equally so. But she’d promised her father she would see to Gina’s happiness. Had vowed to her mother she would do all in her power to see Gina married a titled gentleman.
She wanted to help Gina find the right man to wed. She wanted nothing more than she wanted her sister’s happiness. Rexton didn’t suit. She knew that deep within her heart, but what could she point out as an example of his unfitness? His dazzling blue eyes? How when they twinkled with mirth they made her want to laugh when she couldn’t remember the last time any man had caused her to feel anything beyond unhappiness?
His broad shoulders that called to a woman to snuggle against them? His sturdy arms that provided support? His smile that came so easily as though he was skilled at warding off troubles?
That he noticed things like cuts, even when they weren’t directed his way? That he had served as her champion when he could have left her to languish in humiliation as Downie had done? Although she did have to give Downie credit for not making his humiliation of her public. But it had flourished in the private corners of their lives.
She couldn’t imagine Rexton treating his wife with anything other than respect. Even knowing her past, he’d never thrown it into her face. He treated her with deference as though it were her due. Even when he said naughty things he shouldn’t, she couldn’t seem to think of him in a bad light. If anything, she was the one in need of chastisement because she couldn’t seem to escape the image of him posing nude.
Which was the very reason she needed a man. Tonight. This very moment.
While she had no basis for her certainty, she did not doubt he would be an exceptional lover. If he could send desire dancing through her veins without even touching her, what the devil would it feel like to be caressed and stroked by his large sure hands? What sensations would be stirred to life if his mouth traveled along her throat? If he suckled on her breast, a breast that ached for a touch as it never had before?
Her nipples were hard, her breasts heavy with want, with need. And it was Rexton’s fault, damn him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, couldn’t stop envisioning the pleasure it would brin
g her to take his full lower lip between her teeth and draw it into her mouth, to release it and dart her tongue between his parted lips. To hear his groan, to feel the rumble of his chest.
Even as she cursed him, she cupped her breasts, flicked her thumbs over the taut pearls that ached for something she couldn’t deliver. It was wrong, so wrong to have these thoughts, to be encouraging these sensations, to be touching herself in a sensual manner, imagining his hands, his tongue, his mouth bringing her pleasure in a myriad of ways.
It was wrong, so wrong, to slowly gather up her nightgown until it was pooled at her hips and she could feel the cool air gliding over skin she never exposed. She rested her hands on the inside of her silken thighs, the tips of her fingers creating tiny circles. She’d never done this before, never teased herself. Even now she didn’t feel as though she was the one doing the teasing. It was him. The Marquess of Rexton.
He was the one calling to the wanton in her, the one setting her on edge, the one tempting her, demanding she reach for release. Slowly, hesitantly, she parted the folds, surprised by the heat, the dampness, the sensitivity that greeted her. She’d never been so bold but neither had she ever been quivering with such need for release.
Closing her eyes, she saw him standing before her, his shirt gone. Although she’d never before seen his bared chest, she could envision quite vividly how Rexton might appear. Gloriously. Everything firm. Everything taut.
Slowly, she stroked, pressed, circled around the sensitive area. She imagined him going down to his knees—
The rapture came swift and hard, her screech an unexpected sound she’d never before made. Quickly she lowered her nightgown, having a ferocious need to hide the evidence that anything untoward had occurred within her bedchamber, within this chair.
Good Lord. Obviously she couldn’t serve as an objective observer when the man caused such exciting stirrings within her.
Her chaperoning days were definitely behind her.
Chapter 5
Everyone had expected Rexton to attend the Lovington ball. But his appearance at the Ashebury affair caused a few startled glances to be cast his way, a few mothers to smile with glee, and a few additional ladies to be introduced to him. He used the occasion to mention offhandedly to the mamas that he found Miss Hammersley to be charming. With any luck those with unmarried sons would nudge their offspring toward her in an effort to thwart Rexton’s perceived plans to court her. He’d seen it happen before. The matrons of the ton could teach a general or two about strategy when it came to dividing and conquering. If he were truly courting a lady, he’d be a bit more discreet, concerned with protecting her reputation, but he was in a hurry to see his part of the bargain completed.
An Affair with a Notorious Heiress Page 8
