Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love)

by Callie Hutton

  She’d done her duty, and although she’d been left with a sense of disappointment, she had thought nothing about it until she’d seen the book. Apparently, there was a lot more she could, and should, be doing, if she intended to keep Devon from engaging another mistress.

  Heat flooded her entire body at the mere thought of behaving like a courtesan. At the same time, her heart thumped, imagining Devon doing some of the things she’d seen in her book. Her nipples hardened, and dampness grew between her legs. At one time she would have ignored the sensations, but now she knew what they meant and experienced a great deal of curiosity about how her body worked.

  “My lady, I am told the carriage will be ready for us to depart in two hours.” Sally entered her room with several items of clothing looped over her arm. “The packing should be finished well before then.”

  “Excellent. Is his lordship still at home?”

  “Yes. I believe he just entered the library.”

  “I wish to speak with him before we depart.” Eugenia headed toward the door but her gaze came upon the edge of her book that she’d slid under her bed that morning. She stopped and stared at her maid, her mind in a whirl. “Sally, I believe once we arrive at Wentworth Manor you may take a few days off from some of your duties.”

  Sally’s brows rose. “My lady?”

  “Yes. Some time off to tend to the injury to your foot.”

  The maid looked at her feet, her confused expression growing. “There is nothing wrong with my foot.”

  “Ah, but there will be.” Eugenia smiled brightly and left the room.

  A soft knock at the library door brought forth a deep “enter.” Devon sat behind his desk, writing in a ledger. He looked up and gave her a warm smile. That action had always released hordes of small butterflies in her stomach.

  Her husband looked so handsome sitting there, a welcoming expression on his face. His perfectly starched and tied cravat in bold contrast to his tanned skin drew her eyes as he stood and waved to the chair in front of his desk. “Good morning, my dear.”

  As always, she sat at the edge of the chair, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Devon leaned back in his chair, his chin resting on his index finger and thumb, drawing her attention to his hands.

  Devon had wonderful hands. She’d always admired them when he’d first begun to court her. Long, aristocratic fingers, but strong at the same time. She’d always imagined him caressing her with those fingers. Now that she’d read her book, she thought of other delicious and naughty things he could do to her body with those remarkable fingers.

  Several pages had been devoted to a woman’s pleasure from a man stroking and caressing her in places that made her face burn with excitement and nervousness. What would that feel like?

  “I will be ready to leave for Wentworth in about two hours.” Lord, she wished he would stop tapping his cheek with his index finger. Her eyes glued to his movements, she felt heat rise from her toes all the way to her face, envisioning that finger stroking her, plunging into her moist warmth.

  “I wish you safe passage. It appears I will finish up earlier than I had planned, so I will be arriving tomorrow afternoon instead of Friday.” His other hand rested on the desk in front of him. He toyed with the quill he’d been using when she’d arrived. She sat, mesmerized, as he twirled and fondled the instrument.

  Eugenia cleared her throat. “Yes. Well that is good news, my lord.” She stood, as did he. “I will see you tomorrow, then.”

  He seemed to step forward, then hesitated. Feeling a bit daring, she rounded the desk, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on his cheek. His eyes grew wide and, before she recovered from her boldness, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her to him. Lowering his head, he cupped her cheek and kissed her, lightly at first, and then with more fervor than he’d ever kissed her before.

  The bones in her knees weakened, seeming to melt. She clung to his muscular arms, the only anchor in this strange world his lips had thrown her into. A hint of bay rum and oranges drifted to her nostrils, making her dizzy. She’d never noticed the scent before when he’d come to her in the dark of night. Now her fingers itched with a fierce desire to run through his hair and feel the silkiness.

  Thank goodness his grip on her waist was strong, since she feared she would dissolve into a puddle at his feet.

  He released her mouth, and she pulled back. “I, ah, will see you tomorrow, then.” Eugenia backed up, trying to still her heart and give her legs time to strengthen enough to carry her from the room. Devon nodded and smiled once again. She turned abruptly, afraid of what she would do next if she didn’t escape.

  …

  Devon watched the sway of Eugenia’s hips as she walked in front of him, her arm linked with Lady Wentworth’s. He’d just arrived at the house party and had been greeted by Lord and Lady Wentworth and Eugenia.

  It was the first time he’d seen his wife since he’d ravished her mouth in his library. What the devil had been wrong with him? He’d never kissed her like that before. A slight smile teased his lips. Truth be known, the exchange had been quite enjoyable.

  Lately, it seemed all he could think about was Eugenia, and taking her to bed. Not the usual way, but in a way that would surely scandalize her. While listening to ramblings about Parliamentary bills, he’d found himself drifting off into thoughts of the various positions he could place her in.

  Although he’d never seen her completely undressed, from his hands alone, he knew she possessed generous breasts, wide hips, firm buttocks, and slender legs. How he wanted to drag her upstairs to whatever room she’d been assigned and remove her clothing, one piece at a time, relishing her smooth, silky skin as it revealed itself.

  He stepped into the entrance hall of the manor, a spacious area with marble floors and pale-green-silk-covered walls. Two large potted plants graced the doorway. Several people climbed the sweeping stairs in front of him, following servants who were directing them to their rooms.

  “Lady Devon is already settled in your room, my lord.” Lady Wentworth turned to Eugenia. “I assume you will escort your husband?”

  “Yes.” Eugenia took hold of Devon’s arm. “Right this way, my lord.”

  The first thing he noticed was the light scent of flowers drifting from Eugenia’s hair. Hair that had been arranged in a softer manner than usual. Her body felt supple against his side, almost as if she’d changed the sort of corset she normally wore. Wishing to distract himself so he didn’t grab her once more and plunder her mouth here on the stairs in front of guests and servants, he asked, “Were you able to finish whatever arrangements Lady Wentworth needed help with?”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes. We finished up this morning, and since you are here now, perhaps we can ride this afternoon? Wentworth has an excellent stable and Cook offered to prepare a picnic basket for us. There is a lovely pond a short ride from the house.”

  A picnic? Never had Eugenia suggested such a thing. He’d always assumed she had a disdain for bugs and other creatures that made themselves at home on a picnic. But then again, he was beginning to believe there was much more to Eugenia than he would have guessed. Perhaps many of his assumptions about her had been incorrect. “Wonderful suggestion, my dear. After being closed up in the carriage for so long, a ride in the fresh air would be just the thing.”

  Eugenia’s glowing face captivated him as they entered the bedchamber. They’d attended only one other house party since their wedding, and that gathering had been small enough that he and Eugenia had had separate bedchambers.

  He took in the space and the one very large bed in the center. Not only would they share the space, they would also sleep—all night—in the same bed. All night. Side by side. Why that thought unnerved him he did not wish to examine.

  She grinned at him, almost as if she knew his thoughts and had him wondering if she would taste as good this time as she had in his library. “Excellent. I am glad you like my suggestion. I will need to change into my rid
ing habit.” She turned her back to him. “Will you undo my gown, my lord?”

  He stepped back as if she’d burst into flames. Precisely how he felt at the moment. “Er, I will be happy to find my way to the library and wait there while Sally attends you.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Oh, dear. I forgot to tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Sally injured her foot climbing out of the carriage. She will be fine, but needs to stay off her feet for a day or so.”

  Devon continued to stare at her. Did she really expect him to play lady’s maid? Undress her, help her with her bath? Just the thought of her naked in a bathtub had his cock jumping to attention and saluting.

  “Ah, are there no other maids about?” He could swear he saw laughter in her eyes. Yet he expected embarrassment, flushing, fidgeting. Where was his Eugenia?

  She sighed. “I’m afraid not, my lord. It is just you and I.”

  Just you and I. Indeed.

  “Very well.” He worked the fastenings, but there seemed to be hundreds of the blasted things. The more he undid, uncovering the creamy skin of her back, the more he fumbled trying to get the bloody thing completely undone. He’d certainly unfastened enough ladies’ gowns in his day, as well as unlacing corsets, and never before had he had such trouble performing the simple task.

  His cravat grew damp and restrictive. He had the urge to rip the thing off and fling it across the room. More buttons. More pale, silky skin. His knuckles brushed against her back, and Eugenia flinched and sucked in a breath. It was nice she could find air, because his lungs were having a problem.

  At last the bloody thing was opened. He couldn’t resist placing his lips at her nape where a few curls had fallen. Warm, soft, scented skin. Instead of pulling away as he’d expected, she sighed and rolled her head to one side. He took advantage of her movement and covered the area with small, light kisses.

  Of their own accord, his hands moved to her shoulders and slid the gown off. The garment slithered to the floor in a gentle swish of fabric. Eugenia stood before him in her corset and chemise. His blood surged, and his cock cried out for relief. Slowly, she turned, her eyes meeting his. She licked her lips.

  “Ah, where is your riding habit?” The devil take it. Was that his voice? He squealed like a girl.

  “In the wardrobe.” Her voice, on the other hand, was warm and sultry.

  “Oh.”

  Eugenia raised her hand and pointed toward the wardrobe. “Over there.”

  “Oh.”

  She pulled herself together quicker than he, and backed away until she was near the wardrobe, then opened the door and rummaged through an assortment of garments.

  He used the time to get himself under control. This was his wife he was drooling over. Next he would need to take out his handkerchief and wipe his mouth like a babe. She returned with a deep violet riding habit with black trim on the bodice and sleeves.

  Devon closed his eyes and moaned inwardly at the sight of her luscious breasts rising above the top of her corset, low enough that a strong breath would release her nipples. Afraid to touch her, lest he lose the little bit of control he had left, he twirled his finger in the air as a gesture for her to turn around. With swift movements born of desperation, he dropped the garment over her head, then fastened the clasps and backed away.

  “If you will wait for me downstairs, I will summon Jake, who should have my trunk unloaded from the carriage by now.” He strode from the room, not even granting her the courtesy of a nod. He had to get away from her as quickly as possible before he did something he would no doubt later regret.

  “Jake!” He thundered, as his valet directed a footman to carry the trunk. “I will show you to our room.” Turning on his heel, he hurried back up the stairs, meeting Eugenia on her way down, drawing on black kid gloves. She smiled at him.

  “I will wait for you in the drawing room, my lord. I must summon a maid to fetch the picnic basket from Cook.”

  “Yes. Yes. That sounds perfect.” He continued on up, anxious to change into his riding clothes and move outdoors where the cool air and other distractions would work to settle him down. And allow his blood to flow back to his brain.

  Devon managed to change clothes quickly and was soon headed to the drawing room. Eugenia sat on a settee, a picnic basket at her feet. Her back straight, her head held high, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He breathed a sigh of relief at the familiarity of her stance.

  “Are you ready, my dear?” He strolled toward her and extended his arm. He felt more in control of his body. Here was sweet little Eugenia, the woman he had married to share his life and raise children with. She was a respectable and proper lady, and he was grateful every day that she had accepted his hand. All those lustful thoughts from before were shoved to the back of his mind.

  “I am.” Eugenia stood and took his arm as he reached for the picnic basket.

  Chapter Five

  “Always consider the aphrodisiac effects of food when planning a tête-á-tête.”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 17

  The wind whipped through Eugenia’s hair as she and Devon raced along, releasing the bun Sally had so expertly fixed that morning. Once Devon had escaped their bedroom after helping her with her riding habit, she had tried to anchor her hat, but apparently had not done a good enough job since the silly little thing just flew off her head.

  Exhilarated by the ride, the warm sun on her back, and Devon by her side, she felt young free, and reckless. Noticing a hedge about a half a mile in front of them, she lowered her head and urged her mare on.

  “Be careful, Eugenia.” Devon’s warning only made her want to take the jump more. She’d been doing so many things differently since she’d read the book that in some ways she felt as though she’d been let free from her self-imposed cage.

  “Eugenia, I think this is not a good idea.” Devon shouted over the thundering of the horse’s hooves as he raced alongside her, his frantic glance going back and forth between her and the hedge.

  Ignoring him, she leaned in and braced for the jump, the horse easily clearing the hedge, making a smooth return to earth. She continued on, pulling on the reins to slow the mare, moving her from a gallop, to a canter, to a trot. “Good job, Lady Lane,” she crooned to the animal. “You were wonderful.”

  “So were you.” Devon rode up alongside her, his eyes flashing. “That was a stupendous jump.”

  “Thank you.” She slowed Lady Lane to a walk and attempted to still her thumping heart. The result of the jump or Devon’s praise, she wasn’t sure. She was alive and The Ice Queen was dead.

  “There.” She pointed toward a copse of trees next to the pond she’d spotted yesterday. “That is a perfect spot for our picnic.”

  “I agree.” Devon turned his horse and followed her to the shady area. He slid from the animal and reached up to grasp Eugenia’s waist. Her heart sped up once again at the look in his eyes. Not a look she’d seen much of before. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She licked her lips as he eased her off the saddle and brought her gently to the ground.

  Slowly Devon reached up and brushed back a curl to tuck behind her ear. She closed her eyes at the touch of his gloved fingers, wishing for his bare skin instead.

  “You’ve lost your hat,” he murmured.

  Her mouth suddenly dry, she touched her head briefly and nodded. “I know.”

  Her senses were alive, every color was sharper, every scent stronger. Devon’s nearness released dancing butterflies in her stomach. The now familiar dampness between her legs and heaviness of her breasts screamed at her to take the one step separating them that would put her into Devon’s arms. To push her aroused body against his, to feel the hardness of his muscles pressing into her soft skin.

  As these thoughts raced through her mind, they continued to stare at each other until Devon shook his head, as if awakening from a dream. “I will get the basket.” He hesitated for a moment, then heade
d to his horse.

  Eugenia let out a breath, then turned to Lady Lane to pull out the blanket she’d brought with her. Still attempting to quell her rapid heartbeat, she moved closer to the pond and spread the blanket out.

  There had been definite heavy-lidded passion in Devon’s eyes when he’d regarded her just now. Why wouldn’t he act on his desire? She needed to redouble her efforts. It would be foolish to arouse her husband so and then have him seek out a new mistress to do the “slaking” her mother was so sure Eugenia would find distasteful.

  Not so, Mother.

  “Something smells wonderful. I’m very hungry.” Devon placed the basket on the blanket and opened the top. He pulled out bread, cheese, grapes, and a bottle of wine. Digging farther, he laid cold chicken and apple tarts on a plate. “A feast!”

  Eugenia reached for a grape and sucked it into her mouth, making a plopping sound. Devon’s eyes grew wide as he stared at her. She smiled and picked up another grape, licking the outside slowly and deliberately, wrapping her tongue around and around before she placed it between her teeth and bit down, the juice running over her chin. She stared at him. “Um, so sweet.”

  A piece of chicken dangled from Devon’s fingers as he watched her, a slight flush on his cheeks. His breathing increased, and Eugenia was concerned for a minute that he would suffer apoplexy. “Are you all right, my lord?”

  He blinked a few times. “Yes,” he rasped. He bit into the chicken and made a poor attempt at smiling.

  “Will you open the wine?” Eugenia pulled out two wine glasses and held them toward him.

  “Certainly.” With fumbling fingers, he inserted the corkscrew and pulled the cork out with a pop. His face was still flushed as he poured the liquid into the two glasses. After Devon tasted the wine and deemed it acceptable, Eugenia picked hers up and took a sip. She closed her eyes and bent her head back, humming as the liquid slid down her throat.