by Amelia Grey
She was in a small room that held only the pianoforte, two upholstered side chairs with matching pillows in them, and a summer-blue settee with a brocade footstool in front of it. There was no one else present in the room that he could see.
He stood there watching her, listening and thinking how lovely, how romantic she looked.
The tempo of the music had him wanting to take Susannah’s hand and dance a waltz with her. Dances like the quadrille were fast and fun, but a man never got to actually feel the frame of a woman in his arms with those dances.
Race had been taught better than to spy on anyone, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Although he was only looking at her back, he could see from the way her body moved and swayed with each note, she was intense and derived much pleasure from playing. And he found great pleasure watching her and listening to the lovely music. His desire for her grew, unrelenting and tense.
Race moved closer to the windowpane. He reached up to shield his eyes with his hand so he could see better, when the gold family-crest ring he wore hit the glass. It sounded like a pistol shot.
Susannah jerked around, and their eyes met. Race jumped back, stumbled, and almost fell. She rose and put her hand over her mouth. He could see she was laughing at him by the glint in her eyes and the way her shoulders shook with each breath.
He deserved it, peeking in her window like a common thug.
He shrugged and gave her a guilty smile. She motioned for him to go to the right where the door was located.
Race felt more than a little naughty, getting caught watching her through the window, but he didn’t care because he wanted to see her.
“My lord,” she said, stepping out onto the slate-covered landing. “By the saints in heaven, what is a fine upstanding gentleman like you doing lurking around my house and peeking through my window?”
He liked the twinkle in her eyes and the teasing smile on her beautiful, shapely lips. In fact, there wasn’t anything about her he didn’t like.
“Pardon me, Duchess, but I was listening to you play.”
“And watching me, too?”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t admit to that.
“That is not a very polite thing for a marquis to do, is it?”
She moved closer to him and reached up to his neckcloth as if to touch him. A shiver of anticipation and excitement surged through him. She lowered her hand and held up a piece of yew for him to see.
“Why is your coat littered with these?” She brushed more of them away with her fingertips. “You didn’t come through your garden to get here, did you?”
He nodded. “And it wasn’t easy.”
She laughed softly, making Race want to pick her up and swing her around.
“I can see that by the twigs in your hair. You could have come to the front door and knocked like a proper gentleman.”
One side of his mouth lifted in a half grin as he brushed a hand through his hair. “What fun would that have been?”
“Probably none.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
They both laughed, and Race was suddenly glad that he had cut a hole in the hedge and crawled through. When she looked at him like that, he would crawl through hell to get to her.
“I must admit that my being here is simple. I heard lovely music and I came to find its source. I didn’t know if it would be you playing, Mrs. Princeton, or someone else. That is all there is to it.” He stepped closer to her; his gaze swept down her face and then back up to her eyes. “All the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never heard music before.”
“Perhaps that’s because the pianoforte is new to the house. I bought it a few days ago.”
“You are very good.”
She smiled shyly and looked away for a moment. “Thank you. My life at Chapel Gate is very quiet, and I’ve had much time to practice over the years. You don’t have to stand outside to listen. Come inside and I will play for you.”
“Are you sure? I really didn’t want to be a bother if you are practicing,” he said, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. He didn’t mind disturbing her at all.
“You are not bothering me.”
She turned away to go back inside, but he caught her by the wrist, letting his hand slide down to cup her fingers. Just the feel of her hand in his made him desire to make her fully his.
He held her and said, “Wait.”
She turned to him and looked down at his hand on hers. For some ridiculous reason, touching her made him feel very protective of her.
“What I would really like to know is what parties you will be attending tonight. I want to meet you there so I can dance with you.”
She lifted her shoulders slightly, rested her green gaze on his eyes, and said, “I’ve received some invitations the past couple of days, but I haven’t planned to attend any of the parties or balls. I did not come to London to enjoy myself. I have only one mission in mind.”
She tried to pull her hand free of his, but he gently held her firm. He stepped closer to her. “I’m not going to go away, Susannah.”
“Why do you want me to go to a party so you can dance with me? You don’t know anything about me or my past, because you haven’t bothered to inquire.”
Race took in what she’d said. “Do you think I have no interest in you because I haven’t tried to find out about your past? Nothing could be further from the truth. I haven’t wanted to delve into your past because it’s not important to me, Susannah. And how can I get to know more about you if I can’t persuade you to spend a little time with me?” Race brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of her palm.
She sighed as he allowed her to pull her hand free of his. “You are a difficult man, my lord.”
“And contrary to the way I behave most of the time, I stand by my statement that I am a patient man.” He gave her a teasing smile. “So, now can I sit for a while and listen to you play?”
“Mrs. Princeton isn’t here right now, but Cook, the housekeeper, and my maid are here, so I suppose it is acceptable for you to come inside.” She headed for the door. “May I offer you some tea?”
“Just music.” He smiled at her again and wondered if she knew that right now he wanted to pick her up in his arms, take her upstairs to her room, lay her on her bed, and make slow, sweet love to her.
Susannah had had very few opportunities to play the pianoforte for anyone other than her mother and any staff who might happen to hear her practice, but she wasn’t in the least nervous about playing for the marquis. She knew she was very good.
“Sit where you like,” she said.
She watched him sit down in the middle of the settee and prop one of his booted feet on the opposite leg. He was divinely handsome in his crisp white shirt, red waistcoat, and black jacket littered with tiny bits of shrub. She enjoyed simply looking at him.
Susannah needed no written music, and that was good because she didn’t have any with her. But what should she play for him? Should she ask if he had a favorite? No, what if he asked for a song she didn’t know how to play? That might prove embarrassing.
Her fingers splayed onto the ivories, and she felt Race’s hot gaze on her face. Suddenly, she started playing the sprightly melody of Bach’s “Invention.”
About halfway through the piece, she glanced up at Race. He was watching her with admiration and desire in his eyes. It pleased her to know her talent gave him enjoyment.
She looked back down at the ivories, but what she wanted to look at was Race’s seductive eyes. She wanted to tell him she was charmed and flattered that he had come over, that he wanted to hear her play, that he was pursuing her.
He must know how difficult it was for her to resist him. His smile, his manner, and even his roguish reputation captivated her, intrigued her, and seduced her.
She took in a deep, languid breath
as she finished Bach’s score and went immediately into a Beethoven Sonata. As she played, she kept thinking about Race. What was she going to do about him? If she accepted invitations and attended the exclusive parties in London, would she be opening herself up to the kind of shame and ridicule she experienced before she married the Duke of Blooming? Did Society ever truly forget about indiscretions, she wondered? Would being with the charming marquis be worth the risk of heartache again? She didn’t know the answer to any of those questions.
When the music was over, she rose, moved from behind the pianoforte, and curtseyed.
Race rose and clapped. “Bravo, Duchess, bravo.” He took both her hands firmly, warmly in his, kissing first one and then the other. “These hands are magical when you’re playing.”
She smiled and laughed lightly. “You are such a flatterer.”
With the backs of his fingers, he skimmed down her cheek and brushed aside a wispy strand of hair. “I have been, but not this time. I’m telling the truth. Thank you for playing for me. I had a hell of a—pardon me, I had a trying day, and listening to you play soothes me.”
“I’m glad.”
Bending his head, he gently brushed his lips across hers. The kiss was so gentle and brief that if she tried, she could probably convince herself it never happened. Yet her heart rate told a different story. It was beating out of control.
She gazed into his eyes, her heart hoping he’d kiss her again because she knew she wouldn’t resist him.
He gently tugged on her hands, and she went willingly into his strong, waiting arms. They tightened around her and snuggled her against his chest. He lowered his head again, and instinctively her lips parted, her mouth opened, and his tongue slipped inside with a warm, slow, easy thrust. The kiss was long, generous, and eager. Short, choppy breaths mingled with long, whispery sighs.
He lifted his head barely an inch from hers and said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you like this since I first saw you standing so poised and so proper in my house, telling me I could charm a nun out of her chemise.”
Susannah laughed. “You know I never said such an outrageous thing.”
“Oh, right,” he teased. “You asked me to guess if you were a tiger or a nun.”
He was simply too charming for words. “You know it was a leopard, and I never asked you to guess anything about me,” she said with a smile. “You are a devilish rogue who has twisted my words beyond recognition. You have forgotten what I said.”
His eyes turned serious as he held her close. “No, I haven’t forgotten one thing about you. But what I remember most about that afternoon was that our attraction to each other was instant and mutual. We both felt it.”
A quickening started in the depths of her abdomen and shuddered all the way up to her breasts and lingered there before moving on to her throat, tightening it.
“I’m not denying that,” she whispered.
His eyes searched her face. “What do you suggest we do about it?”
“Accept it?” she questioned.
His lips crooked into a captivating grin. “Perfect answer.”
His head bent toward hers again. Susannah knew what they were doing was not acceptable in Polite Society, and heaven help her but she didn’t care. There was something particularly delicious about once again being rebellious against all that her peers held dear. She had no inclination to discourage Race from the liberties he wanted, and she had no inhibitions about being in his arms.
Her lips parted again, and when his touched hers, she knew this would not be a gentle kiss. His lips brushed hungrily, greedily over hers, and she matched his fervor. His strong, firm arms wrapped tightly around her back and crushed her to him. It pleased her to hear him swallow small gasps of pleasure as her tongue explored the inside of his warm mouth. Passion, hot and demanding, seared between them.
He kissed his way over her chin, down her neck, and back up to the sensitive spot behind her ears. Susannah’s skin pebbled with delicious tingles. He kissed the lobe of her ear, pulling it and the small gold earring she wore into his mouth. Shivers of delight threaded across her breasts, through her abdomen, and settled between her legs. Her lower body strained to get closer to the hardness she felt beneath his breeches. The elating sensations caused her to press her lips to his once again and slide her tongue deep into his mouth with a muffled groan.
Susannah ran her open palms over the width of his strong back. She loved the feel of the expensive wool fabric of his coat beneath her hands. She slid her fingers into the back of his thick, rich hair and gloried in the freedom to touch him as she wished.
He found the hollow at the base of her throat, and his tongue sampled her skin again. “You taste as rich as the finest cream, Susannah.”
“You tempt me too much, Race.”
“I’ll consider that an honor.”
Desire soared between them as his hands ran up her back, over her shoulders, and down to her breasts. He cupped them, fondled them as he continued to kiss her lips, her cheeks, and her chest. She moaned her pleasure deep in her throat. Susannah felt as if her insides were twisting into wondrous knots of pleasure, and it was thrilling. She felt more alive than she had felt in years.
She loved the way his lips moved over hers and the taste of his tongue in her mouth. She was eager to enjoy everything she was experiencing, but should she give in to desire for a handsome, charming man as she once had?
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Susannah knew she was playing with fire so, reluctantly, she pushed out of his arms and stepped away from him.
Trying to calm his labored breathing, Race took a deep breath and smoothed down his hair with his hand.
“Susannah,” he said.
She turned to him, lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and without emotion said, “I was eighteen and only three weeks into my first Season when it happened.”
Race started toward her, but she held out her hand to stop him from coming closer.
“Susannah, don’t. It’s not important what happened years ago.”
“It is to me. I want you to know everything about my past, and then if you still want me to meet you at a party some evening or go for another ride in the park, I will.”
“All right. Tell me anything you want, but know this, nothing you can say will affect what I am feeling for you right now or how I will feel about you after you finish.”
She believed him. Susannah turned away from him. He had given her an out. She didn’t have to tell him.
So don’t.
No, I can’t go any further with him unless I do, and my heart tells me to enjoy this man.
Race watched Susannah closely as she turned back to face him, looking strong and confident. She was studying over what he had said. He didn’t care a fig about her past, but if it was that important to her, he would listen. It was the present and the future that mattered to him, and he had already decided he wanted her in both. He gave her an understanding smile and nodded once.
“I met him at my first party. He was so confident and handsome. My heart was so young and eager to find the perfect husband before the Season was finished. After our dance that first evening, I knew he was the man I wanted to marry.
“We danced the next night and the next. I flirted with other gentlemen, and I watched him dance with other ladies, but our eyes always found each other across the room. I remember I was so jealous when I saw him dance with ladies I considered prettier than me.”
“I can’t believe there was anyone lovelier than you, Susannah,” Race said.
“There was.” She smiled at him. “One of my friends made a match after the first week of the Season to a gentleman she fell madly in love with. I was already into the third week and thinking I was going to be left on the shelf.”
He searched her face, wondering if she still loved the man. Race was pleased when he didn’t see pining for
lost love in her eyes, just an acceptance of what had happened.
“I was worried and eager. Was there another that he loved? Was I going to lose him? When he asked me to join him in the garden one night, I was thrilled and readily agreed. I slipped away from my parents to meet him.”
“What happened?”
Her eyes took on that faraway quality that he often saw in Gibby’s eyes when he was remembering the past.
“He took my hands and told me how lovely I was and how desperately he loved me. He asked to kiss me, and of course I allowed him to. I saw no harm. I had so many stars in my eyes, I couldn’t see anything but him. Besides, he told me he loved me. I thought we were going to be married.”
“The beast was lying.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know that at the time. His kisses thrilled me. He wanted to touch me, and I wanted him to. Unfortunately, my uncle and two of his friends happened along and caught us with my dress off my shoulders.”
Though he really didn’t want to know, Race had to ask. “Did you let him make love to you?”
She took a deep breath. “So some would say. I was still a virgin when I married the duke, but alas, I was not untouched according to the strict rules of Society. In fact, my husband was quite surprised I was a virgin.”
“And also delighted, I’m sure. Why didn’t this other man marry you after he compromised you?”
She gave a mirthless laugh. “We never spoke after that. I suppose the main thing was that he didn’t love me. He wanted only to seduce me. After I allowed him to touch me, suddenly I was soiled goods as far as he was concerned. He told my father that if I had let him kiss me and touch me as he had, then I must have allowed others to do the same.”
“He spoke like a pig,” Race said, his anger rising at this unknown man.
“I blame only myself.” She walked over to the window and stared out. “It was my folly. I shamed my parents. My mother took to her sick bed. In fact, I didn’t see or hear from her for over a year after my marriage.”
