Only a Marquess Will Do: To Marry a Rogue, Book 4

by Gill, Tamara

  Chapter 18

  Victoria bathed and dressed for bed later that night, wishing her mama and brother goodnight before locking herself away in her room. She had taken a silly risk this afternoon on their picnic. When she thought about what she had done, she still could not believe she had taken Albert's hand and placed it on her person. And not just anywhere on her body, but between her legs.

  She slumped down on the settee before the fire in her room, glaring at the flames licking the wood. It was all Lord Melvin's fault when she thought about it in truth. He had left her in a state of need, more than she had when she'd come to his silly smoking room the first time.

  When she could not find this pinnacle by herself, well, she had little choice but to make him find it for her.

  She pursed her lips, wondering if it were late enough and if her family would be asleep by now. Josh had departed for the local town to try out the tavern and had attempted to persuade Albert to join him. Thankfully the marquess had cried off, stating he needed to catch up on some paperwork, but wished her brother a good evening.

  Victoria stood and crossed to the door, impatience nagging at her. She slipped a dressing gown on and slippers and cracked the door open just a bit. The hall was dark. No candle burned in any of the sconces or candelabras. Only a small, flickering light illuminated from under her brother's door. Victoria made her way through the house, memory guiding her this time before she came to the smoking room door. Checking once again that she was alone, she looked up and down the hall and could see no one. Stealing into the room, she closed the door quickly behind her and found nothing. Not even Albert.

  She frowned.

  Where was he? No fire burned in the grate, and the room was dark, save for a little moonlight that stole through the windows.

  Victoria called out to Albert, or whispered more like, but there was no response.

  Had he reneged on his own plan and decided not to come and meet her?

  She huffed out a breath, tracing her steps back to her room, not seeing anyone on her way. Where had he disappeared to? Disappointment stabbed at her as she climbed into bed. Lord Melvin would want a very good reason for standing her up, but somehow she knew he would not. No doubt her brother had persuaded him to go to the tavern. The idea of him there, surrounded by women looking for a little fun with a lord, left her uneasy. She glared into the darkness of her room, listening out for their return, the sound of horses, anything so she could confront him over his movements.

  What was she thinking! He was not her husband. He owed her nothing. Still, it took her several hours to fall to sleep.

  * * *

  Albert was foxed. The tavern room, rank with smoke, sweat, and the foulness of stale beer rent the air, and still, it was not as terrible as he thought a night out at a tavern would be.

  Several gentlemen estate owners joined him and the duke, drinking, some whoring the night away upstairs. For an hour or so, Albert had lost sight of Josh, but then he returned, his cravat less poised, along with his hair.

  The duke slumped into the chair beside him, grinning from ear to ear. "Lovely company here. I'm surprised that you do not darken these doors more often."

  More often? Albert had never before stepped foot into the premises. That he was missing his rendezvous with Victoria because her brother would not take no for an answer also did not help his mood.

  Even so, the beer was refreshing, company amusing, and to sit and watch the play of people had been enjoyable. As a writer, picking up people's nuances and mannerisms was always helpful.

  "Look here, that woman over there. She is watching you keenly," the duke said, sipping his beer and grinning.

  Albert shook his head, having no interest in the lady. "If I am to win your sister's hand, you should know that she would not approve of me being here or if she heard of me bedding any of the ladies selling their wiles tonight. I thought you would've known better, Your Grace."

  The duke chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, I know better, but when there is fun to be had, what of it? And you're not married yet. What would it hurt?"

  Albert did not like this talk or the thought of touching another woman, not when he wanted Victoria above all else. "I am content to drink beer with you, my friend, but that is all. I will not be sewing my seed around here this evening."

  The duke watched him a moment before clapping him on the back. "That is very good then, my friend. I'm glad you would remain true to your course, that being my sister. I like you even more now than I did before."

  "You were testing me?" he asked him, not entirely sure he liked to be tested. The room spun, and he clasped the table to steady himself.

  "I have been, but you passed. Now, shall we have another drink?" the duke asked, summoning more beer.

  Albert tried to dissuade His Grace of the notion of more alcohol, but then again, it was a very good brew, so why not.

  * * *

  Victoria woke to the sound of doors slamming open before shutting just as loudly. She went and checked out in the corridor, her eyes widening at the sight that beheld her.

  Her brother was nowhere to be seen, but Lord Melvin was standing before her door, his eyes glassy and unfocused, his body reeking of beer and smoke.

  "I missed you tonight," he said, louder than he ought.

  She shushed him, pulling him into her room and closing and locking the door behind him. "Be quiet. You'll wake Mama."

  He stumbled over to the bed, lying down with an oomph. Victoria wasn't sure what she should do. Should she ring for her maid? Or try to maneuver him back to his room without anyone seeing.

  For all that she would like him to touch her, she still did not wish to be anyone's wife. No matter how much being Lord Melvin's wife was becoming more and more appealing every day. He was kind and sweet. How could anyone’s heart remain immune to such a gentleman?

  He stared at her through eyes that struggled to stay open. "I missed you this evening."

  Victoria crossed her arms, staying a good distance from him. "Yes, I know. I found the smoking room empty when I went down there, and you nowhere to be found," she said sarcastically. "But I can see what you've been up to tonight. I hope you enjoyed yourself, my lord."

  He groaned, fighting to sit up. When he'd finally managed it, he reached for her, but she darted out of his reach. "Do not be angry, Victoria. I wanted to stay home. Your brother would not take no for an answer."

  All understandable, and Josh did tend to get his way when he wanted something. "Well, I'm sure the women at the tavern were much more skilled than I am. I do not blame you for going out. You are a man, after all, and they seldom do anything that warrants gentlemanly behavior. My late husband no exception. You appear no different."

  He clapped his hand over his heart. "You wound me, my darling Victoria. I did not sleep with anyone. Hell," he mumbled, flopping back down on the bed. "I've never slept with anyone, and I'm not about to start with a whore plying her trade."

  His words comforted her and made her like him even more. "You should leave my room before you are caught in here alone with me."

  He slumped an arm over his eyes, groaning. "Oh yes, better not be caught with me. Or you may be made to marry me, and what a terrible disaster that would be." He sat up, leaning on his knees. "If I had you in my bed every evening, Lady Victoria, let me assure you, it would be anything but terrible."

  A shiver stole down her spine at his words, intoxicating as they were. His gaze burned up and down her nightshift, and she covered her breasts, realizing she wasn't wearing a dressing gown.

  "You need to go now, Albert," she whispered, with one last plea for him to do as she asked before it was too late.

  Chapter 19

  Albert wasn't sure why he was in Victoria's room, but what he did know was that it was spinning at an alarming rate, and he ought to leave. He was foxed, stank, even he could smell his clothing, yet he could not bring forth the energy to get up and go as Victoria asked.

  Instead, she ke
pt speaking, and he kept answering in the most inappropriate ways. Alcohol was not made for appropriate conversation. It would seem.

  She clasped his hand, pulling at him. He wrenched her close, and she tumbled over him. His cock twitched, the breath in his lungs seized. Hell, she was pretty, so damn sweet that she made his jaw ache.

  He reached up, sliding her golden locks behind one ear, needing to see her face. "You're so beautiful, Victoria. Do you know how beautiful you are to me?"

  She bit her lip, shaking her head. "You're drunk, Albert. Can you even see straight, my lord?"

  "Do not call me my lord. I'm Albert to you. Always Albert." He leaned up, closing the small space between them, and kissed her. She met him halfway, their mouths fusing, taking from the other in a kiss that stole what little wits he had left. Which, in his current state, were not many.

  She undulated on him, her legs slipping over his hips, and he reached down, grinding her against his aching cock. Her ass was tight and small and made him instantly hard. She gasped through the kiss, moaned his name.

  And then she moved, rolling her hips over his cock, the buckskin breeches he wore. The thin lawn nightgown no barrier to their needs. He held her there, helping her tease them both.

  His cock ached, strained against the buttons. He wanted to release himself, take her, take them both to heights yet to be explored, but he could not. Certainly not tonight. He was a drunken lout, in his cups in her room. He would not stoop so low as to take her here like this.

  "Oh," she gasped against his lips. "Albert. This feels..."

  He slid against her core, the heat between their bodies scalding. "It feels good," he breathed, fighting the urge to come.

  "You're so hard, and ahhh, I ache for you. Tell me, is this what happens when one has pleasure without intercourse?"

  "Yes," he breathed, rolling over to settle between her legs. "I promise I shall not take you, but I need to be closer."

  She nodded, giving him leave, and he wrenched up her gown, exposing her mons to his view. She glistened from desire, the scent of need filling his nostrils. Like the image in the book, he wanted to lay his lips against her flesh, kiss her, flick her sweet nubbin with his tongue until she cried out his name.

  She tried to push her gown down. Her cheeks kissed with a rosy hue. "Do not be embarrassed. You're beautiful to me. All of you."

  Albert leaned down, kissing her deep and long until he felt her relax under him. He broke the kiss, kneeling between her legs, and ripped at the buttons on his breeches. His cock sprang free, thick and long, and her eyes widened.

  But the brave, curious Victoria he adored reached out and slid her finger along his length. Albert swallowed a curse, wishing her finger was her hand, wrapped around him, pulling him toward release.

  He closed his eyes, reveled in her touch. No, he wished it was her mouth, suckling him, taking him deep in her throat.

  He groaned. "Allow me to bring you pleasure," he pleaded, unsure what he would do should she say no.

  She lay back and let him do what he willed. "I trust you," she said, her eyes burning pools of need watching his every move.

  Albert guided his cock against her heat. It felt so good, too good to be bad, scandalous like it was. He slid against her, teased her engorged nubbin until they were both breathing hard, Victoria's legs wrapped about his waist, her arms holding him close as he kissed her, teased her. He wanted her to come, to soar under his touch.

  She moaned, gasping and pushing, stretching and undulating against him with increasing ferocity. The feel of her against him, wet and wanton, left his wits to spiral.

  He was so close. Just a few more strokes, and he would shatter.

  "Albert," she gasped, her eyes opening wide and wonder crossing her features as she climaxed. Her fingers slid over his back, her nails scoring his skin.

  He groaned and joined her, spilling his seed over her mons and stomach. Terribly crass, but he could not care. They had found release, together, and there was nothing more marvelous.

  They lay like that for a time. Both lost to the euphoria of what they had done before he rolled and slumped beside her. Without urging, she turned on her side, staring up at him.

  "That was utterly unexpected. I had no idea that was possible. You may think me naive, but Paul never did anything of the sort in our bedchamber. When he bothered to be there that is."

  Albert hated the bastard even more for his treatment of Victoria. He pulled her closer.

  He had no idea it could be like that either. When he'd taken himself in hand, it had never felt as good as it did just before with Victoria. Already, the thought of her made his cock twitch, and he wanted her again.

  He smiled, meeting her wondrous gaze. "It has never felt like that for me before either. You had better take care, my lady, or I shall become addicted to you, and there will be no getting away from me then."

  She chuckled, stretching out across the bed. "It is you, Lord Melvin, who ought to be careful, or I'll make you my mister."

  He barked out a laugh, and yet at her words, a little hope expired within him. How could she share her body so intimately and still only see him without any emotional connection? He certainly wanted more from whatever it was that they were doing—tutoring him in how to be a good husband. He did not want to be a good husband to anyone unless that anyone was Victoria.

  "It is you who ought to be careful, or you'll be made my wife." A little crow of satisfaction shouted in his mind when she paused at his words. He would not look upon tonight as a misguided, utterly reprehensible action that he'd done, but a step to making her see they fit like kid leather gloves. She may not see just yet, but she would. He would win his Victoria still, and tonight had been the first official stepping stone along that path.

  * * *

  The following morning Victoria sat at the breakfast table and fought not to think about what the marquess, who sat at the head of the table eating bacon, eggs, his steaming-hot black coffee to the side, had done to her.

  What they had done together last night in her room.

  Her stomach knotted at the memory of her release. It had been different to her times with Paul. The intensity had been higher with Albert, even thinking about it now made her squirm. Her body had broken free at that moment. She had become a woman free of restraint, of wifely duties. She was simply a woman who had found pleasure with a man, and it was Lord Melvin who had driven her there.

  She stirred her tea, wondering how they could go forward after such an event, how she would steer her instruction of him toward finding a wife and not toward finding a vacant room in the house and making him make love to her.

  "Darling, I think your tea is stirred," her mama said, pulling her from her thoughts. She dropped the spoon, and it clattered on the small dish the cup sat on.

  Heat crept up her neck, and she looked to where Albert sat and maddeningly found him behind his paper, ignoring the commotion she had made.

  "Apologies," she said, her brother watching her intently. Victoria picked up her tea and sipped it, a congenial smile pinned on her lips. "What are we doing today, Mama? Should we travel into the village and cast our eyes over the shops?"

  "That sounds like a lovely idea, my dear. I shall have our carriage brought around after breakfast."

  "May I join you?" Albert asked, folding his paper and laying it on the table. "I feel as though I have not been out of the house in an age."

  "Really?" Victoria queried sweetly. "I thought you and my brother were out only last evening?"

  Her mama cast a curious glance at Josh before turning her attention to Lord Melvin. "Did my son take you out last evening, Lord Melvin? I hope he was not too much of a bad influence on you," she teased.

  Josh sputtered, affronted. "I would never be a bad influence on my oldest friend. We had a beer at the local tavern, and it was an enjoyable night all around."

  "It was indeed," Albert said, his gaze catching hers quickly.

  Need, hot and senseless, thrummed
through her, and she wished they were alone. Victoria swallowed, schooling her features. "We shall be looking for a modiste, my lord. Are you sure that is what you would like to escort us to?"

  Albert's lips twitched. "I shall accompany you if only to escort you as I should since you are my guests. I will, however, leave the modiste up to you to visit alone."

  "I wonder if they have any gowns fit for the country dance, Mama. I do not wish to look too high in the instep."

  Her mother raised her brow. "Really, Victoria, your gowns are lovely and new. While we shall look, I do not think you need a new wardrobe."

  Victoria stared out the window in the breakfast room. She had not been looking for a new wardrobe, just a gown that was less opulent than the ones she owned. She would stand out against the townsfolk and local gentry, and as much as she adored her family, sometimes blending in helped a little. Made one's night much more pleasant, and she wanted to be approachable for Lord Melvin's potential brides. If they were scared of speaking to her, she would not be able to vet them for the position of his wife.

  Chapter 20

  Albert greeted some of the townsfolk who wished him good morning as he strolled before the modiste's window waiting for Victoria and the duchess.

  The groom held the horses while the driver sat atop the box, waiting patiently for them all. He wasn't so patient. He needed to speak to Victoria and be alone with her if he could manage such a thing before expiring. He did little these days but think of her, and tonight he would have to make an effort to ride out to his hunting box and get some words down on his next manuscript. The muse was well alive within his mind, Victoria giving him plenty of ideas and plot fodder to write onto the page. It would also help keep his hands off her person, which he was wont to do at any opportunity that arose.