Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love)

by Callie Hutton

  A sniff and a curt nod from her mother was the only response. After another few minutes, she continued, “Marriage is the only undertaking for a proper woman. If you are having some issues with settling into marriage, Eugenia, it would do you well to remember your position. Devon is a generous husband. Perhaps you need to plan a dinner party, or redecorate a room.”

  “Yes, Devon suggested such a thing. Perhaps you can consult with your calendar and let me know when you would be available for a small dinner party?”

  “An excellent suggestion. I shall send around word on my availability. It would do you well to concentrate on entertaining.”

  Eugenia nodded at this sage advice and studied the landscape through the carriage window. They remained silent until the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of her family’s townhouse. Clarendon House now belonged to her brother, Nash, who was quite munificent in his treatment of his female relatives. Mother had retained her suite of rooms both in Town and the country estate.

  She gathered her reticule and gave Eugenia a slight hug and kissed the air near her cheek. “Get some rest, my dear, you seem overwrought.”

  “Will you and Nash be attending the theater this evening?”

  “No. We have accepted Lord and Lady Darwood’s dinner invitation. I believe your brother is finally ready to select a bride. There will be several candidates at the dinner tonight.”

  Most likely her beleaguered brother had finally succumbed to Mother’s not-so-subtle nudging in that direction. “Have a nice time.”

  “Thank you.” Lady Clarendon patted Eugenia’s cheek and accepted the footman’s hand to alight from the carriage.

  Thinking of her book, Eugenia’s stomach tingled with excitement as she entered the front door of her townhouse. It would be several hours before she and Devon would leave for the Gardens. She had no more scandalous gowns to wear, but perhaps she could read more to gain some ideas to capture his attention.

  She’d loved his reaction to her gown, along with the little bit of jealousy she’d seen in his expression when they’d arrived at the ball the other evening. But she needed to do something more provocative to get his attention.

  Quickly, she went through the gowns in her closet. Tomorrow she would visit her modiste again and commission more gowns like the one she wore the other night. Richer tones, lower necklines, silky smooth fabrics. She whipped out a gown that wasn’t quite as daring as the other night, but did show a bit more décolletage.

  Satisfied with her choice, Eugenia climbed onto her bed and opened the book, flipping through the pages, her face growing warm. What would it feel like to be completely nude with Devon running his rough hands over her skin? She shivered and felt a dampness between her legs. She’d already learned from her reading that moisture in her lady parts was normal when one felt desire.

  She lay back on her bed with the book opened on her chest, visualizing Devon and her experimenting with some of the more adventurous positions. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep with the indecent images from the book in her mind.

  “Milady, ’tis time for your bath and to dress.” Sally’s voice broke through her dreams, jarring her awake, when she realized her book sat on top of her. She jumped up and snapped it closed and shoved it under the mattress. If Sally noticed her peculiar behavior, she didn’t comment.

  Two footmen hauled in her bathtub, followed by several maids carrying buckets of water. “Is this the gown you wish to wear this evening, my lady?” Sally held up the gown she’d chosen earlier.

  “Yes. I think that will do nicely. The air might be a bit cool tonight for a stroll, so I will need my matching wrap.” She turned to allow Sally to unfasten her gown. “I would like you to do my hair differently again. Softer, similar to how you did it for the Beresford’s ball.”

  She had some ideas that might help her plans along.

  …

  Devon couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was different about Eugenia again. They sat across from each other in his carriage, headed to Vauxhall Gardens where they would meet friends for the evening’s entertainment. She stared out the window at the soft light from the Mayfair houses they passed.

  He studied her.

  At least her gown, from what he’d seen of it before she’d added her wrap, was not as daring as the one she’d worn to the Beresford ball. It was still a bit different from what he was used to seeing her in. A stronger color, and a bit lower in the bosom. Her hair was arranged differently, too. She looked younger, softer.

  More so, her demeanor held his attention. Her face glowed, and her eyes sparkled.

  He’d witnessed a great deal of warmth in Eugenia. He’d been pleased many times with how patient she could be when dealing with the more elderly and tedious members of the ton. People who were studiously avoided by most, if at all possible.

  The way she’d handled poor Jennie’s situation said a lot about her compassion. It turned out that although Mick was not too happy to be urged into marriage, with a little bit of persuasion and a raise in pay, the young couple had married and both had kept their jobs, at least until the babe came.

  Eugenia would make a wonderful mother. A sense of warmth and happiness flooded him at the thought of Eugenia’s body swollen with his child.

  “Once again, you look lovely, my dear.”

  He almost lost his breath when she turned her face toward him and offered him a siren’s smile. Where the devil had she learned that? He had the most incredible desire to grab her from across the open space, plop her onto his lap, and ravish her mouth. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that she was his wife. Not some doxy.

  “Are you looking forward to this evening?” She tilted her head in a most fascinating manner.

  Good God, when had her voice become so sultry? The loss of his mistress was playing havoc with his sexual urges. Even though it was only Friday, he considered making a visit to her bed once they returned from the Gardens. Would she object?

  Being the perfect, proper lady that she was, he doubted if she would mention it, but he didn’t want to upset her, either. Yet the thought of any other woman no longer appealed.

  What a conundrum.

  “Yes, I am rather looking forward to it,” he answered. “The fireworks are always a surprise even though you know they are coming.” He cringed at the use of that word.

  Two red dots appeared on Eugenia’s cheeks, along with a soft smile, but he would never consider her relating what he’d said to sex. The more he dwelled on these thoughts, the harder he became, until it was almost difficult to sit still. He glanced out the window and sighed with relief when the Vauxhall Gardens came into view.

  Hopefully, he would be able to walk comfortably.

  They joined Lord and Lady Melrose at a supper box. The viscount and his wife were a decade or so older than Devon and Eugenia. He was a rotund man, mad for riding to hounds. His wife, a tall, thin woman, almost a foot above her husband, had a long, narrow face and huge teeth, almost reminiscent of a horse. But she was a pleasant woman, and when engaged in conversation, her lively personality tended to diminish her looks.

  “Good evening, Devon, Lady Devon,” Lady Melrose offered as they reached the couple already seated.

  Lord Melrose took Eugenia’s extended hand. “You look lovely, as always, Lady Devon.”

  “Thank you.” Eugenia sat in the chair Devon held for her.

  Once they were settled, the waiter poured wine for the party. Eugenia took a sip of her wine and licked the corner of her mouth. The sight of that tongue coming out, slowly, oh so slowly, licking at the drop, had him staring at her, and—for the love of God—panting!

  “Melrose, how is the new gelding from Tattersalls?” Devon burst out. The other three jumped and stared at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I apologize.” He gave the group a wan smile.

  “Good, good. I think he is a fine addition to my stable.” Melrose took a stab at the whitefish the waiter had placed in front of the four of them.
With the piece of fish speared on his fork, he waved it around, threatening to drop the morsel down his wife’s bodice. “You must come to the country this fall, Devon. We can do some hunting while the ladies do whatever it is the ladies do.” He burst out laughing at his own joke.

  Feeling somewhat calmed, Devon worked his way through the dinner courses, all the while listening to Melrose go on and on about his hounds and horses. The recitation was boring enough to calm his body. He made sure to keep his eyes on the man while he spoke, so as not to find Eugenia doing something else that would have him wanting to lay her down on the grass and have his way with her.

  “I say, the fireworks should start soon. We would do well to walk a bit.” Devon placed his napkin alongside his plate and extended his hand to Eugenia. Melrose assisted his wife from her chair, and Devon directed Eugenia to follow the older couple onto the pathway.

  Instead of Eugenia placing her hand on his arm as she’d done any number of times, she opted to loop it around his upper arm, hugging her body close to his. He closed his eyes and moaned inwardly, all his blood relocating to his cock. He broke into a sweat at the feel of her soft breast pressed against his arm. Torn between pushing her away—the height of rudeness—or suffering in silence, silence it would be.

  Dozens of couples and small groups strolled the grounds, chatting. Some pairs wandered off the path to darker corners, their heads bent, murmuring softly to each other. After about ten minutes of walking, Eugenia seemed to stumble and tightened her grip on his arm. “Oh.”

  He slid his arm around her waist and held her up. “What is wrong?”

  “I think I twisted my ankle.” She looked up at him with huge eyes, chewing her lower lip. Plump lip. Pink lip. Moist and delicious lip. He shook his head to clear it. “Allow me to move us off the path to that bench and I can take a look.”

  She leaned in to him, her warm, soft breast smashed up against his chest, limping alongside him the few steps. He glanced back and saw nothing that she would have stumbled on. “Here, sit down and I’ll see what you’ve done.”

  He squatted in front of her as Eugenia settled on the bench and proceeded to pull her skirts up, practically to her knee. “What are you doing?” He glanced around and tugged it down.

  “I just wanted you to see my foot.” She regarded him with an innocent look. But something in her eyes told him she’d done it on purpose.

  Nonsense. This was Eugenia, after all. The quiescent lady. Yet he couldn’t help but notice the silken stocking covering her alluring calf. Well-curved, and leading to her slender thigh, where…

  Best to get the examination over with before he did something to offend her. He moved her foot out, and he placed his hand on her ankle. “How does that feel?”

  “A little sore. Perhaps you should feel around to see where I’ve damaged it.” She flexed her foot, and then placed her slipper on his thigh. She inched the skirt up once more. “Do you see anything, my lord?”

  Yes. I see a beautiful leg covered with a silk stocking that I want to smooth my hand up until it reaches…

  “Nothing to see, my dear. If you’ve twisted it, we should return home so Sally can put ice on it.”

  She sighed. “I’m afraid I cannot walk, my lord.”

  He stood and looked down at her luminous eyes and delectable lips, and swallowed. Hard. “I shall carry you.”

  “Oh. Do you think that is proper?” She pulled her fan out and waved it with enough enthusiasm to blow leaves off the tree above them.

  No. Considering where my thoughts have been all night, holding you in my arms right now will be torture.

  “It matters not, Eugenia. You cannot walk, and I shan’t have the carriage come here to fetch you. You will simply have to dismiss this unseemly state of affairs, as it cannot be helped.”

  She lowered her eyes. “Whatever you say, my lord.” He could swear her lips twitched with humor.

  Devon bent and scooped her into his arms. She wiggled around until she was pressed up against him, then laid her head on his chest. “Have you a headache, also, my dear?”

  She shook her head. “No.” More wiggle. “I think all of this excitement has my nerves overwrought.”

  Eugenia was light as a feather and soft as the finest down-filled pillow. The scent of whatever it was she used in her bath drifted up to him. He made his way down the path, ignoring the few glances cast in his direction. She continued to move about, and when she shifted so her plush bottom nudged against his middle, he thought he might drop her.

  He hustled her into their carriage and tried his best to be solicitous while desperately trying to ignore her nearness. He almost swallowed his tongue when she once again pulled up her skirt, this time well above her knee, and extended her leg. She moved her foot in a circle examining it. “I think it is better now.”

  If it had been anyone except Eugenia, he would have sworn the entire episode had been intentional.

  Once they were in the house, and he had assisted her to her bedchamber and into the hands of her maid, he made his way to the library where he tugged off his much-too-constricting cravat and poured himself a very large glass of brandy.

  Chapter Four

  “A husband makes such a nice substitute for an indisposed lady’s maid.”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 111

  A week after the trip to Vauxhall Gardens, Eugenia sat on her bed, flipping through the pages of the book, making notes about Devon in the margins—even though as a child she’d had her hand slapped many times for writing in books. She needed new ideas. Devon still made his three weekly visits to her bedchamber, and although she tried to be a little bit more involved in the process, she could feel him holding back, almost as if he was afraid to allow her more participation.

  She was frustrated, and at the same time worried that her plan would not come to fruition before he found another mistress. He’d been out to his clubs, but she noticed he returned earlier and spent more nights in the library when they had no social engagements.

  She put the book aside, pleasantly surprised, when Sally entered her room to deliver a message that Devon wished her to join him in the library. She quickly checked her image in the mirror and left the room.

  Devon stood as she entered the library, a warming smile on his face. “I thought perhaps you might like a bit of sherry before bed.”

  Eugenia beamed. “Yes, I would enjoy that, my lord.”

  He poured a small amount of sherry into a glass, and handed it to her. They settled next to each other on the settee, watching the flames from the fireplace, him sipping on brandy.

  Devon placed his arm on the back of the settee and shifted his body toward her. “Lord Wentworth stopped me at White’s the other day and mentioned a house party at Wentworth Manor sometime soon. I checked with my secretary, and he had no information.”

  “Oh, dear. I must have forgotten to pass the invitation along. It is this weekend. In fact, Lady Wentworth asked if we could come on Wednesday so I can assist her with planning for the ball at the end of the house party.”

  “Doesn’t she have staff to do that?”

  Eugenia laughed. “That is just like a man. You think because there are servants to do the actual work, that the hostess merely sits and watches.”

  He regarded her with mirthful eyes. “I bow to your superior knowledge on such matters, my dear.” To her surprise, he lifted her hand and kissed it. A flush rose up to her cheeks, and her heart gave an extra thump. Why did this man affect her so?

  “Unfortunately,” he continued, “I will be unable to arrive before Friday. Parliamentary business to which I need attend.”

  Eugenia studied him, a slight twinge in her stomach. Was it, indeed, Parliamentary business, or interviewing-a-new-mistress business? Did one interview a mistress? Exactly how would that take place? Was removal of clothes part of the process?

  She must stop this; she was making herself loony. “That would be fine, my lord. I will send the carriage back for you after I arr
ive at Wentworth Manor.”

  “An excellent solution.”

  Devon stood and poured another brandy. “Would you like more sherry, Eugenia?”

  What she wanted to do was grab the brandy bottle and take a long pull on it. Perhaps that would give her the nerve she needed to seduce her husband. Instead she rose gracefully. “I think not. It grows late, and I must begin supervising Sally in the packing tomorrow. I believe I will retire.”

  Giving her a perfunctory kiss on her cheek, he said, “Good night.”

  Since it was Tuesday, there would be no visit to her bed tonight. As she trudged upstairs she felt as though they’d been married for many years. Where was the fire and passion she’d read about in her book? Did he find her so overwhelmingly undesirable that he would not break from his schedule—even though he no longer had a mistress?

  She entered her bedroom and rang for Sally. Wandering to the window she stared out at the darkness that mirrored her mood.

  The Ice Queen.

  Even though he said otherwise, apparently Devon had taken that moniker to heart. She straightened her shoulders in determination.

  We will just see about that.

  …

  Eugenia stood back and examined the new gowns that had been delivered while she’d performed her morning toilette. The beautiful rich tones of red, green, and blue, with their lower necklines, brought a smile to her face and scandalous images to mind. The fabrics were soft and silky and embroidered with gold and silver threads. Her favorite was a silver muslin with a small train, which would sparkle and rustle as she walked. Perfect for the ball at the house party.

  She’d also ordered a cream silk night rail with a matching dressing robe. Placing her hand behind the material, she could clearly see her skin. She rubbed it against her cheek, closing her eyes at the softness. If only she could think of a way to have Devon actually see her in the gown. Not have him merely take her in the dark as he had done since their wedding night.

  Her mother had given her instructions on how to conduct herself. She was not to cry out or show displeasure in any way. It would all be over in minutes, she’d been assured, then her maid would help her clean up, and she would be free to enjoy a good night’s rest.