by Fiona Miers
John grinned happily. Perhaps the off Season wasn’t going to be so dull after all? At the very least, he didn’t feel sorry for himself anymore.
At dinner, Hannah was even more beautiful than John had feared. He had hoped that cleaning her up might diminish her quality a little. Instead, it was like a penny that he had found in the dirt had been washed and shined, and turned out to be a golden sovereign.
“Your hair really is spectacular Hannah,” Charlotte sighed in awe.
Hannah chuckled good-naturedly and John’s stomach tightened in a feeling he was beginning to identify as being solely related to the American. “That silly maid of mine tried to put it all up. It hurt my head. I will never understand how you do your hair like that every day.”
Charlotte put her hand up to her beautifully coifed hair and sighed.
“I had headaches for years when I was younger, but you get used to it.”
John was surprised. How did he not know that?
“At least corsets are no longer in fashion.” Charlotte giggled, her full breasts heaving over her dress. John looked away from his sister.
“One of the many reasons I am grateful to live today and not thirty years ago.” Hannah smiled at Charlotte and took a long sip of her red wine. “I do like this wine, though a good whiskey is really my drink of choice.”
John spat his wine out all over his empty plate.
He coughed, then pounded himself on the chest to clear the airways. Did she drink whiskey? What sort of lady drank whiskey?
“Are you all right John?” Archie asked mildly, not commenting on the mess that now splattered his dining table.
“I apologize,” John said hurriedly, leaning back so that the servants could clear away everything in front of him and lay out new cutlery, plates, and glasses.
Charlotte had a napkin covering her mouth and Hannah was glaring at him with an undue amount of anger.
John shrugged and tried to collect his dignity.
“What’s wrong with whiskey?” Hannah asked, placing her glass of wine down with a thud.
John smiled and picked up his own glass of wine. He swallowed it without tasting it and smiled again at the beautiful enigma before him.
“I have never known a lady who drank whiskey.”
A madame of a brothel maybe…
Hannah frowned and looked across at her cousin with a quizzical look on her face.
Archie inclined his head. “It is not common here Hannah, it is true.”
“Well I shall not be changing myself for anyone,” Hannah shrugged, calling to one of the footmen.
“Excuse me, what is your name?”
“Robbie, my lady,” the young footman flushed and bowed.
“I would like the whiskey tray now, please… If that is all right with you, Charlotte.”
Hannah glanced across the table at her new friend, anxiety showing across her face for the first time.
Charlotte smiled brightly. “Hannah, you may have anything in this house that you like.”
John watched the play of emotions crossing the other three people’s faces at the table and for the first time in a long time was highly entertained. Charlotte was having a great time, Archie was amused but wary and Hannah’s jaw was set with determination.
The whiskey tray arrived and John held up his hand.
“One for me also.”
Hannah looked up in surprise. She turned to John and asked him, “Can you recommend one?”
There were three bottles on the silver tray.
John knew each by color and shape of the bottle and pointed to his favourite. “The smallest bottle is the best,” he drawled.
John thought himself quite a connoisseur of whiskey. Archie may not drink much himself but thankfully, he kept a stocked home.
Hannah poured each of them a glass and John pushed back his chair to stand up. Instead of being able to retrieve it himself, Hannah stood with his glass and walked around the table to him.
“Here you go,” she murmured, putting the half full glass in front of him.
John jumped to his feet by reflex, he didn’t think he had ever remained sitting whilst a lady was standing.
Hannah stepped back and laughed. “Oh sit down,” she swatted at him, hitting his arm in an attempt to encourage him to sit.
She moved back to her chair and John sat down gratefully.
What sort of woman was this? It was twice in the same afternoon that she had hit him like an errant school boy.
Chapter 2.
John couldn’t sleep, his mind raced like a stallion at the Cup. He ached for the release of a woman’s body and his mistress lived five miles away. She would be moving out of his town house next week as her six-month contract was up and although he’d decided he would no longer visit her, he’d currently changed his mind.
John shifted in his bed again, stroking his half erection for a moment. He had not masturbated himself for years and had no intention of doing so now. He had several women on call for that and yet his flesh pulsed with need.
Getting out of bed, John pulled on his dressing gown and slippers. Perhaps more whiskey would put him to sleep?
A lot more…
John took his lit candle and walked out of his room and along the guest quarters of the manor.
Where would Hannah be sleeping?
He had never corrupted a virgin before, in fact, he steered clear of any eligible lady. But Hannah was a mystery, and she was twenty-five. He would be surprised if she were still a virgin.
A light flickered out beneath the door of the library. Like the proverbial moth to the flame, John walked towards it. Who would be awake at this late hour?
His curiosity getting the better of him, John took a breath and pushed the heavy door.
Hannah sat on one of the chaise lounges, reading a book. She was in her nightgown and her feet were tucked up underneath her like a child.
John’s heart pounded against his jacket as he tiptoed over to her, stopped just before he reached her.
“Oh, hello John,” Hannah said quietly, glancing up to greet him and then looking back down at her book.
John had a decision to make. He could excuse himself, get the whiskey and pass out within an hour. Or he could sit down and talk to this rather strange woman and find out if she could quench the ache in his groin.
John stepped forward and bowed. She barely looked up.
Another tact perhaps?
“What are you reading?”
John sat down opposite Hannah on a chair and crossed his legs.
She bent the corner of one of the pages and closed the book quietly. “Oh, just an old mystery. I’ve read it before, but couldn’t resist picking it up again.”
Hannah moved her legs out from under her and stretched them out in front.
John couldn’t stop himself from looking down at her beautiful dainty feet. Where were her slippers?
“What are you doing still up?” John croaked, unable to keep the accusation out of his tone.
Hannah cocked her head to one side. She tended to do that when he said anything she was unprepared for.
“I was having trouble sleeping so I thought I’d get up and try to exhaust my brain. And you?”
John smiled, how could he put this delicately?
“I rarely go to sleep before two in the morning. They go to bed so early here.” He grinned lazily.
Hannah blinked then frowned. “Why would you stay awake so late on purpose?”
John stared at Hannah for a moment and waited for the smile that would indicate she was joking. When it didn’t come he realized that she really had no idea what he was saying. He tried to explain. “London balls, parties and such generally go quite late.”
“Oh, in America we never stay out late. I am going to struggle this Season indeed.” Hannah sighed, getting to her feet.
John jumped up, his body far too aware of how nicely her nightgown clung to Hannah’s lush curves. Heat was coiling up in inside him, his hung
er growing by the minute.
“I think I’ll be going to bed now.”
“Shall I walk you?” John asked, interested to see her response. They were alone, partially clothed and it was the middle of the night. Would she be interested in him staying in her bed for the evening?
Hannah nodded. “If you’d like to.” She left the book on the table and walked towards the door.
John grinned devilishly. If she didn’t want her book, perhaps he could put her to sleep?
“Did you court much in America?”
Hannah laughed, then hushed herself. “I was engaged once, but no. Not many men courted me.” She glanced back at him and her eyes moved over him in an assessing way.
John’s erection lengthened and pushed against his nightclothes. Surely she could see it?
They reached Hannah’s door and she opened it.
She looked ethereal, bathed in candle light, her nightgown almost transparent in the light shining from the fire. She was too beautiful to resist.
John didn’t think, he simply pressed his lips against hers and leaned closer, pushing her into the door frame.
Hannah went to still as though she were in shock, then she began to respond, moving her lips against his. Then she pushed at him with her hands as though she wanted to stop. John pulled back, confused.
“Let me put this down,” Hannah said, a husky tone purring through her voice. He stepped back and she placed the candle down on the floor at a safe distance then righted herself again.
John grinned. He had been right about her. She obviously wasn’t a virgin. How could she be at her age?
John stroked a hand down Hannah’s beautiful face and gripped the back of her head, loving the feel of her unbound hair over his hands.
He forced her lips open this time with his own, absorbing her surprise and licking the inside of her mouth.
Hannah gasped but gripped both of John’s upper arms, holding him close. Heat flourished in his body, making him ache for her.
John broke off from her intoxicating lips, gasping for air. All the blood in his body was rushing to his groin, making his cock throb and harden. He was going to finish in no time at all tonight.
He walked away from Hannah and into her bedroom. He was far too attracted to this woman he realized as he panted for air. His response to just a simple kiss was making him slightly dizzy.
John threw his robe off and stepped out of his slippers, naked now in the warmth of her bedroom.
He turned around to find Hannah still leaning back against the door jam, her door wide open. She was watching him with something akin to shock. Her mouth hanging open.
“Shut the door and come join me.” John coaxed.
Hannah’s eyes travelled greedily across his chest, then dipped to where his erection was standing out at attention.
She blushed five different shades of red, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Just because I let you kiss me does not mean I want you to spend the night.”
John let his mouth fall open. Impossible. She’d been sending out all the right signals. What did she want? A financial incentive?
“If you are looking for something more permanent, I do need a new mistress,” John offered, knowing that would he love six months with the delicious body in front of him.
Hannah’s eyes widened and she seemed to draw herself up, her chest filling up with air like a chicken. She walked towards him slowly, as though she was savouring the moment.
John smiled at her again, was that an invitation to stay? Her mouth turned down and she looked him square in the eye.
Whack, John’s head flung sideways as Hannah’s open hand connected with his cheek and sharp pain exploded in his face.
“Ow, what was that for?” John asked, holding his hand to his cheek and stumbling further into the room.
“Get out of my room,” Hannah said, her eyes narrowing to slits.
“But...” John began, stepping forward. What had happened to change the mood so quickly?
Hannah ran across to her bedside table and picked up a silver candlestick holder.
What was she going to do with that?
“Get out of my room!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs and heaved the candlestick at his head.
John narrowly ducked and grabbed his dressing robe from the floor.
He heard footsteps and knew that the footmen were on their way. He would be caught here soon and Hannah would accomplish what no woman ever had.
A virgin had managed to trap him in a compromising position. Would they think John was attacking her? Or worse, would they try to make him marry her?
Fear made John grab for his slippers and run, his legs pumping hard as the echoes of the men who had run to Hannah’s aid chased him.
He was back in his room much sooner than should have been possible.
His erection was gone, he was exhausted. How had that gone so exceptionally wrong?
Chapter 3.
“Thank you again, Archie, I’m sorry I woke you up.” Hannah ushered her cousin to the door, needing some time alone after a far too emotional night.
“I thought you were being attacked,” Archie exclaimed, obviously anxious to know what had caused the uproar that had woken him from a sound sleep.
Poor cousin.
“I have bad dreams sometimes Archie. I am terribly sorry. I hope it won’t happen again.” Hannah bit her lip and tried to look bashful. Hopefully Archie believed her tale. She didn’t want to get John into trouble, despite his faults he hadn’t hurt her. She also didn’t want Archie thinking badly of her either.
“Well, goodnight then,” Archie sighed, walking back along the hallway to his wife.
Hannah closed her door, laying her back against it. What had just happened in here less than half an hour ago?
She had thought John wanted a kiss, and she had desired it too. She had only been kissed a handful of times, and never by a man as handsome as John. Not that she had ever seen a man as handsome as John, but that was rather beside the point now.
How dare he believe her to be a whore? Because that was what he had called her, offering her money to warm his bed.
Never! If she’d wanted that she could have stayed in America.
Hannah picked up the candlestick and weighed the heavy silver object in her hand. Oh, how she wanted to throw it again just thinking of the insult John had flung at her. But it would bring the cavalry running once again and she didn’t dare upset her cousin more than she had already.
How dare John think her mistress material? She was an untouched virgin, who was looking for a husband. What had she done to make him think that he could get away with saying such a thing to her?
Shame washed over Hannah as she climbed into her bed like a heated rain. Perhaps she should have slapped him from the first. She hadn’t realized it would be such a bad thing to allow him a kiss.
Just one kiss was all she had wanted.
Hannah closed her eyes and sighed deeply, she would find out first thing in the morning.
****
John slept until noon. He had awoken when the sun had first risen and forced himself back to sleep. He didn’t want to face what may happen today. What had Hannah told them? Who came to her aid in the middle of the night?
Her behavior still baffled him. Why had she kicked him out of her room in such a way? Did she believe he would hurt her?
No, he had seen anger flashing in her eyes before she had thrown that candlestick, not fear. A smiled played on John’s lips. She was truly magnificent when angry, strong too. Those silver candlesticks weighed a fair amount and she had hurled it with real force. It was no wonder someone had awoken after she threw it.
It was certainly a first for him.
No woman had ever been that angry at John. His mistresses were told from the beginning what his expectations were. They had a maximum of six months under his protection. He would allow them a generous allowance, clothes and the use of his townhouse. They were not
to expect to stay longer, they were not to get clingy or possessive and they weren’t to ask a lot of personal questions about him. John visited them two or three times a week and he was content with his life, as were they. No one had ever complained before. He had no need of a woman outside of the bedroom.
John pulled himself to his feet and rang the bell pull for his valet. May as well face the music and see what story the red-haired American had spun them.
An hour later he was walking downstairs to the dining room.
“John.”
John stopped when he heard his name, fear clutching at his stomach. He bowed stiffly.
“Hannah.”
John eyed Hannah warily looking for signs of hostility. She looked beautiful and bright eyed. No sign of their late night dispute showing on her face.
“I would like to speak to you privately John. Would you join me in the library for a moment?”
Hannah didn’t wait for his response. She turned and walked into the library.
John hesitated. His stomach had dropped and nausea swam in his gut. He hadn’t felt like this since he had been called to the headmasters office at Eton.
But he was no longer a young boy of fifteen and he could handle anything thrown his way. John guarded his proverbial loins and walked into the library after her.
Hannah was standing down near the Latin books, so John stayed where he was. Better not to be within throwing distance.
A small smile lit Hannah’s face. “I could hit you from here, you know.”
John laughed, a real laugh that made his chest ache. Sobering, he smiled at Hannah. “You didn’t hit me last night.”
“You’re quick,” she shrugged and moved to sit down in a chair closer to John.
John refused to sit, he didn’t want to discuss anything with her. That was why he avoided any sort of relationship with a woman.
Women were for gratifying his sexual needs and that was all. His sister was probably the only woman John enjoyed talking to. Though Lizzie and Sarah weren’t too bad.
John shook his head in frustration and began pacing. Even his own thoughts were betraying him now.
