Lord Misrule (The Matchmaking Earl Book 1)

by Donna Cummings

  When she opened her eyes, he gave her hand a brief kiss. “Thank you for such a splendid evening, Juliana.” He even managed to smile as he rose from his chair. “I shall be happy to deliver you to your room if you are ready.”

  She blinked several times, as if returning from a bewitchment, and then she nodded. A flash of disappointment crossed her face, but she did not let it linger.

  Nicholas sympathized. He would need the rest of the evening alone, not to plan the upcoming “entertainments”, but to discover how to survive the fortnight with this woman who stirred him in so many unexpected ways.

  He could only hope it was actually possible.

  Chapter Six

  Juliana scuffed her boots through the light dusting of snow that had fallen overnight, delighted at the fairy wonderland appearance spread out before them. She sneaked a look at Nicholas beside her, elegant and stylish in his woolen coat and leather gloves, his beaver hat set at a rakish angle.

  She still did not know how she had hidden her dismay the previous evening when he had left her, quite alone, at her bedchamber door. After the passionate kiss they had shared, Juliana had been so certain there were even more to be enjoyed, and in her bed.

  Unfortunately the only kisses in her massive tester bed were the ones she had relived while tossing and turning the entire night.

  At the same time, she had to admit she enjoyed their easygoing, lighthearted banter too. She had not known it was possible for a man and woman to laugh and tease as they did, while also experiencing an unquenchable need to satisfy their physical desires.

  Desires that he appeared quite content to leave unsated. She, however, was not.

  Juliana halted in the midst of the snow-covered field. “Do you plan to wait until the twelfth day before commencing this affair?”

  “It is already commenced.” His eyes widened as if he had just understood her meaning. “Ahh, you mean commencing the lovemaking.” He tilted his head. “You are impatient, although on the surface you appear quite calm. Is one day such a long wait then?”

  “It has been a year, not merely one day!”

  He pulled her into his embrace, chuckling. “You cannot count the year of mourning, since you did not know me then.”

  She was not about to confess she had spent that entire year imagining this affair. “It seems you are deliberately trying my patience.”

  Nicholas raised his eyebrows, the picture of innocence. “I am trying to find the best yule log. That is why we are out here in the wintry cold instead of next to a blazing fire, is it not?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “And the fire will be even more enjoyable once we have selected the proper yule log. It must be large enough to burn for several days.”

  “Come along, then,” he said, his hand outstretched. “Though I am astonished you did not send out several footmen to retrieve this formidable piece of wood. You have so many forests on this estate of yours, we may be searching until next Christmas.”

  Juliana placed her gloved hand in his, warmed by his gesture. “There are scarcely any footmen at the house, if you recall.”

  “Yes, I do recall. It made the after-dinner kisses so much more enjoyable, knowing they would not be interrupted by your shocked servants.” He stopped for a moment to get his bearings, and then headed off in an easterly direction. “Now about this yule log—”

  “It is an important detail,” she said, hoping it would remind him of their discussion the previous evening.

  His lips lifted in an appreciative smile, confirming that he did remember. “Why is it so important?”

  “Because it gives us an opportunity to chalk it with the likeness of something, or someone, burning away those unpleasant memories for good.” She paused. “Such as those involving my marriage.”

  He glanced at her. “It sounds as though your husband put you off marriage for good.”

  “I cannot see any real benefit to it.”

  “You do not believe wedded bliss is possible?” he teased.

  “I much prefer widowed bliss. I can enjoy all of the benefits with none of the megrims.” She slanted him a look. “If I am to believe the rumors.”

  He rewarded her with a mischievous grin, but it quickly disappeared. “You must constantly beware of fortune hunters, I imagine.”

  “They are a more numerous species than I had ever realized. It is yet one more reason I may never marry again.”

  “What of children?” This time he gazed at her more seriously. “Surely you will want to have them one day.”

  “Of course. But I want my children to be more than a husband’s possessions, forced one day to marry against their will, as I was.” She shook off the melancholy thoughts. “Now that I can make my own choices, I am not sure I am willing to give away my freedom. Especially when I cannot know for certain what secrets a husband might harbor beneath his surface charms.”

  Nicholas halted, placing his arms around her tightly, almost protectively. “He did not harm you in any way, did he?”

  “No, not at all. He ignored me, after he finally decided a wife was not what he desired.” She grinned. “Once he is chalked onto the yule log, I shall not give him another thought, ever again.”

  Nicholas smiled. “I finally comprehend its importance.”

  He gave her hand a gentle tug and they began trudging through the snow once more.

  “What of you?” Juliana asked. “Will you have anything to chalk onto the log?”

  He seemed to stumble for a bit, but kept her hand firmly in his. “Everyone has something they regret, do they not?”

  He did not add anything further, and as curious as she was, especially since the admission had made his lips tighten, she did not press him for details.

  “Perhaps it is time to consign it to the flames,” she said gently.

  “You may be right. Though I am not certain I can ever sear it from my soul.” Nicholas sighed. “Perhaps I am not meant to.”

  What could possibly make him judge himself so harshly? He was indeed a rake, and a rogue, but a most charming one. Surely his lighthearted flirtations and dalliances were not the source of his regrets. She fervently hoped he would never view their affair in such a remorseful fashion.

  “I know it is impossible to completely rid ourselves of our regrets. Even when we burn them in a ceremonial fire.” She smiled up at him. “But I am unwilling to believe we must be haunted by them forever.”

  He seemed to consider her words. “You make it appear so simple.”

  “Of course it is not simple. But surely it is worth attempting, so that happiness is a possibility for the future.”

  His jaw worked for a moment. “The difference is you were not to blame for the circumstances in which you found yourself.” His lips lifted in a reluctant smile. “I, on the other hand, have only myself to blame.”

  His sadness tugged at her heart. She wanted to provide comfort, but he was unwilling to give her any details of his turmoil. It was clear their situation did not permit such intimacies. She would probably do well to remember that.

  She would also have to keep in mind what this fortnight was about: pleasure, and frivolity, and preventing herself from falling for a man who aroused her passion, as well as her more tender feelings.

  Juliana pulled his face down to hers, depositing a light kiss on his lips. “I have made you forget you are supposed to be seducing me.”

  He laughed, restored to his usual good humor. He tugged her securely against him, leaving no doubts about how hard his body was, everywhere. “I have not forgotten for a moment, Juliana. I am deliberately heightening your anticipation.”

  His lips hovered over hers, not quite touching. He pulled back each time she tried to press her mouth to his.

  “I am not sure my anticipation can bear much more heightening,” she nearly growled.

  “Perfect.” He grinned before depositing a brief kiss on her impatient lips. “You shall only have to wait a few more hours. And then we will have a proper kiss, a
long, leisurely one. Not these brief ones, much as I enjoy them.”

  He spun around, heading back towards the forested area, while she stood and gaped at him.

  “A few hours?” Her frustration made the words come out in an off-key screech. It startled a flock of birds nestled in a nearby tree, and they took wing, flapping madly, desperate to get away. “A few hours?”

  Nicholas continued his trek towards the distant stand of trees. “You will thank me later,” he called cheerfully over his shoulder.

  Perhaps he was correct. After all, he was the more experienced of them both. At the moment, however, thankfulness was nowhere to be found. Nor was patience. She had made the choice to throw herself headlong into this affair, and now, to her dismay, she was being forced to wait.

  Juliana scooped up some snow, patted it into a perfect ball, and then took careful aim.

  It hit Nicholas square between the shoulders.

  “What the devil—”

  He spun around, completely shocked. She did her best to keep her amusement at bay, covering her mouth with her gloved hands, but her eyes watered at the effort.

  “Oh, you really should not have done that,” he said with a laugh, heading towards her with long strides.

  She began to laugh too, trying to run while grabbing another handful of snow to toss his direction, but it threw her off-balance. She tumbled to the ground with a very audible oomph.

  “Juliana! Are you all right?” Nicholas raced to her, his eyes filled with unmistakable concern. “I had not meant—” He tried to untie her bonnet but his gloves proved a hindrance. He tore them off and threw them unceremoniously to the side. He smoothed his hands over her face, almost reverently. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

  She shook her head, smiling up at him, touched by his genuine worry for her wellbeing. “It is a rather effective way of cooling my ardor, being surrounded by the snow like this.”

  Relief flooded his expression, and in the next instant, he was back to being the playful lover. He reached his hand down to help her up. She grabbed it, and once she was upright, he tugged her against his body.

  “Let me ensure you have not been harmed.”

  Before she could protest that she was indeed fine, he began to smooth his hands down the back of her pelisse, and over the swell of her hips. She gasped, and then moved against his hardened body, unable to resist. His slight moan of satisfaction nearly caused one of her own. Thanks to the heat they were generating, they would soon be hip-deep in melted snow.

  “You appear not to have suffered any injuries,” he said, his voice slightly roughened. It excited her nearly as much as his roving hands.

  “No, I have not. Perhaps some sore muscles will result.”

  He rubbed his nose against hers. “I can cause those as well, but in a much more enjoyable manner.”

  Her quick intake of breath brought a smile to his face. He continued to hold her close, and she nearly sighed at how protected and cherished he made her feel. Yet another new experience, one she had not expected.

  “I hope you shall not make me wait much longer,” she whispered.

  He shrugged, biting his lip to keep a smile at bay, giving no hints of his plans. Instead, he retrieved his gloves and then took her hand in his once more.

  “This mythic yule log awaits us. We cannot abandon our quest now.”

  “Fine. Though now I shall have one more regret to chalk upon it,” she pretended to grumble. “That I met my demise before I could finally take a lover to my bed.”

  He laughed, heartily, and pulled her into his side. Instead of a retort, however, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, which warmed her heart as much as his earlier embrace had done.

  Chapter Seven

  Nicholas paced the red parlor several times while awaiting Juliana’s arrival, then chided himself for his impatience. Yet how could he be any other way? She was a delight to be with, but he had discovered she was also a comfort. He shook his head. He had never felt such unusual emotions with a paramour before now.

  He strode towards a table laden with crystal decanters. He poured a large measure of brandy into a glass, tempted to drink it in one gulp. It might help to blur his conflicting thoughts about this enchanting woman.

  He forced himself to sip it slowly instead. He could not take the chance of losing control. Juliana had not pressed him for details, but he knew she was curious about his past regrets. At the same time, she had given him an unexpected glimmer of hope. Maybe one day it would be possible to enjoy a future free of guilt and self-recrimination.

  Before he could ponder that further, the door opened. He turned slowly, treasuring that moment when Juliana appeared in the doorway. He caught his breath, and then nearly stopped breathing entirely.

  She wore a most daring ensemble: a dress of the sheerest fabric he had ever seen, cut extremely low, with her bosom exposed nearly to her nipples. She glided towards the fire surround, and then stood in front of it, letting the flames cast their light through her dress. The silhouette of her shapely body was impossible to ignore.

  Just as his impatient lover had intended.

  To further ensure he could not mistake her intent, she had also tucked several sprigs of mistletoe into her topknot.

  Nicholas felt his lips lift in an appreciative smile, at her beauty, and her determination. “Juliana, I am struck mute by your exquisite loveliness.”

  She laughed. “Then it appears I have been blessed with the ability to read your thoughts.”

  He set his glass on a table, pretending to shudder. “I hope not, or I shall forever be at your mercy, unable to refuse your bidding.”

  He took her hand and drew her away from the fire, needing a respite from the beauteous curves on display. His plan to increase her anticipation had been bested, for now he desired her even more than before. He would not have guessed it possible.

  Normally he did not mind when an affair was of short duration. It had always been his preference, since it kept attachments from forming, and ultimately being broken. But now he regretted there was already one less day to spend with Juliana. He dared not waste any more time with this seduction she wanted so badly.

  He placed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, treasuring the sigh she gave, just before she reached for him to pull him closer. He shook his head slightly, but only so he could press his lips to her temple, inhaling the rosewater scent she wore.

  “Nicholas,” she breathed.

  He trailed a kiss to her cheek, and then down her neck. She tilted her head, unaware she did so, her body telling her what it needed from him, and she was eager to heed its advice.

  He loved how responsive she was to his touch. Her eyes were closed, her expression as beatific as the first time he had spoken with her. The sensation of experiencing it was even more heavenly than he had imagined.

  He kept her hand clasped in his, leading her to the sofa, and then seated himself next to her. Her eyes opened wide, as if concerned he meant to call a halt to everything she had been reveling in.

  He gave her a reassuring smile, silencing her protest with a finger to her lips. To his surprise, she bit him, lightly, seductively, as he had done to her the previous evening.

  She might be innocent, but she was a quick study, and he could not wait to further her education that very evening.

  “This is a most remarkable dress,” he commented. He trailed his fingertip along the edge of the bodice, barely touching her skin.

  “I am glad you like it,” she said around her uneven breaths.

  “I am quite partial to it. It seems to be a dress designed to erase all manner of regrets.”

  She smiled. “Or to create new ones.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “It will most definitely create havoc. But never regrets.”

  When she tilted her head to smile at him once more, he kissed her throat. Her shivers produced an instant reaction from his body. He shifted on the sofa. They might have to remove to her bedchamber sooner than he had planned.

/>   She reached for his hair, trailing her fingers through the strands.

  “You have given me an idea,” he said.

  He began to pull pins out of the topknot she wore, but no matter how many he removed, her hair did not tumble down as he had expected. Even the mistletoe stayed in place. Juliana laughed at his look of dismay.

  “I can only hope your dress is more easily removed.”

  “I hope so too. I am about to expire from an excess of anticipation.” She plucked out the greenery, as well as a few more pins, and then her hair cascaded down, a shiny mass of dark curls. It was a dazzling sight, and he was unable to resist touching the strands. Nor could he resist thinking of it on his pillow, or wrapped in his hands while he was inside of her…

  “Nicholas? Are you all right?”

  He managed a weak smile. “I merely let my imagination run away with me.”

  She gave him a doubtful look, and then maneuvered herself until she was on one knee, leaning towards him. She placed her soft hand against his brow. “You are a mite feverish.”

  He was most definitely feverish. Her delectable bosom was against his face, only the guileless creature seemed unaware of it. He did his best to remain still, not wishing to disturb her gentle ministrations, even though it was nearly impossible to breathe just then.

  She finally retreated, but only to ensure he did not miss her audacious wink.

  He gave an appreciative chuckle. “You thought to try my patience, didn’t you?”

  “I thought to try my wiles,” she retorted. “And if that did not prove successful, I have asked my chef to prepare all manner of foods known for their aphrodisiac qualities.”

  “I can assure you they will not be needed.” Nicholas grinned. “Although, as it appears that you will be quite insatiable, inform your chef he should have something on hand that will restore my vigor. Daily.”

  She continued to kneel next to him, one hand holding onto the back of the sofa, the other stroking his hair in such a soothing, yet erotic fashion.