by Lavinia Kent
“Yes, although he did not seem pleased with the situation either. I do not think it was only my unhappiness that swayed him.”
Ruby smiled at that but did not answer directly.
Angela continued. “I will admit that I was quite relieved when Granderson left. It felt wrong.”
“And yet you and Colton remained in the room for quite some time.”
She must look like a beet. “Yes.”
“And you were not displeased with what happened.”
“No. I found everything quite nice.”
“I hope it was more than nice. If it was only nice, I shall have to talk to Colton.”
Angela looked down at her feet. “Yes, it was more than nice. It was, in fact, quite beyond words. I had no idea that it would be like that. Why does nobody tell us that it is…that it is so…so intense? Why are women taught to dread something so…so—”
“I do not know. Are you telling me that you had relations with Lord Colton? Did he talk to you about ways to prevent pregnancy?”
Oh dear. And she had not thought she could become any more embarrassed. “No, we did not. I mean, we only watched each other—but that was enough. He told me how to touch myself and…Do I have to say any more?”
“No, my dear, you have said quite enough. I will ask, just to be sure, that you enjoyed taking his direction. I do believe I mentioned that Colton has a need to be in control, and if you do not find that pleasing, then it is best you desist now. It will only grow and grow if you continue this relationship.”
“If anything”—she swung her feet back and forth—“I found it most helpful. It freed me from worry to have him telling me what to do, and it took the responsibility away from me. With Colton directing my movements, I did not worry that I was doing anything wrong. I knew that he would never tell me to do anything wrong. Oh, don’t look like that. I know that many would think this whole situation was wrong, but I do not feel that way and I don’t think that you do either.”
Ruby smiled again. “I must confess I would never have helped you if I didn’t think this was what you needed. And, no, I do not think it is wrong. Foolish perhaps, but not wrong. As long as two adults are willing and have reached agreement, I never think sex is wrong.”
That might be a little bit further than Angela was willing to go. She still felt that plenty of things might be wrong—although perhaps less than she had before. She wasn’t even sure the encounter with Granderson was truly wrong as opposed to simply being not right for her.
But she wanted to continue this game, wanted to continue finding out her desires and giving in to Colton’s. She wasn’t sure she should want to, but she did.
“You don’t look happy. An unpleasant thought?” Ruby asked, leaning slightly forward.
“Not really; more of a confused one. I realize that for a while tonight I lost track of why I am doing this. It seemed so simple in the beginning, and now…” Her voice trailed off.
“If you remember, even in the beginning you were not quite clear on what you wanted the outcome to be.”
“Yes, but at least I knew why I did it. Now I am no longer sure. I seem to want things I should not.”
“You knew what you told yourself in the beginning, but that is different from actually knowing. I think rarely do we fully understand ourselves, and even when we do, it is so very easy to lie. And as for the last, I do not think it is ever wrong to want.”
“Yes, but to slightly misquote you from earlier, it can be foolish to give in to those wants.”
“I did say that, or almost that, didn’t I? Only you can determine if it is foolish and if you are willing to take the risks involved.”
“But what if I just don’t know? Even when I was coming here tonight, I thought I understood what I wanted. I was nervous and worried, but I thought I knew. And now—now I am unsure.”
“Is it because of what you experienced this evening? Many a young girl has been swayed by passion. There is no shame in it, but you should make sure that it is not your only reason. Passion is intoxicating, but it can fade.”
Angela stood, feeling restless, and walked about the small room. “I think it is more than that. I did enjoy what happened to my body and I certainly want it to happen again, but there was more: I found myself wanting to make Lord Colton happy, to please him. How can I want that after what he did to me, after how he made me feel?”
“But he made you feel more than one way, didn’t he? I assume that you would not have been so hurt when he denied the relationship if you had not felt something to begin with. And what of these last few days? He has certainly given you pleasure, has he not? Have you considered being fully honest with him, telling him all that you know, everything that you saw that day at the theater?”
Questions, always more questions. “I don’t know how to answer so many questions. Yes, he has made me feel many different ways, and when we were…intimate, I felt completely safe and…wonderful. There is something about his taking control that frees me, allows me to enjoy myself as I never have before, but then when we begin to return to regular life, he makes me doubt myself. I always feel as if I am standing on a narrow ledge when I am with him, and I don’t know if he’ll lend a hand to steady me or push me off.”
“And have you considered just being honest with him? Considered telling him everything?” Ruby persisted.
How did Ruby see so much? “Yes, I did consider telling him. We shared much about ourselves, but that is still one thing too many. How can I explain how deeply it hurt when I saw him with that woman and how it changed me? Made me scared to be myself?”
Ruby nodded slightly. “Only you can answer that.”
—
Angela slipped through the front door to Madame Rouge’s again. This was becoming almost a habit. She paused inside, adjusting her hood so that she could only see the floor in front of her. A pair of shoes moved into her line of sight.
“You are meeting Lord Colton?” a quiet voice asked.
“Yes, Simms,” she answered, equally quiet, still keeping her eyes on the floor.
“He has asked to meet you in my office, madam. The first door past the parlor. Let me show you the way.” It was impossible to miss the sour note in his voice. Simms found them meeting in his office just as strange as she did.
“Lead on.” Did Colton really mean to do nothing but talk? She had not believed him last night, but it seemed that he might have spoken the truth.
She paused for a moment when they reached the door. It was odd, but she felt more unsure than she would have entering one of the upstairs chambers; there she understood what was wanted. Here she felt quite adrift. What was left for them to talk about? She did hope they were not going to meander the same old circles.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
“Do you need me to open the door, madam?” Simms asked.
“No, I will be fine.”
“And I’ll make quite sure that you are not disturbed—though no one uses my office anyway.”
“Thank you.”
She put her hand on the handle and, sucking in one more deep breath, entered.
The room was empty.
She laughed to herself. Well, Simms had not actually said Colton was here yet, had he, just that he wanted to meet her in the office.
It was a very small room, barely space for the writing desk and a chair on each side, almost more of a pantry than an actual room. It was hard to imagine two people having a long conversation in here, although maybe Colton didn’t actually mean to talk. She’d often heard of couples having encounters in pantries at parties. Maybe Colton had some sort of strange liking for little spaces.
And how would she feel about that?
Well, not much at all. It was a trifle odd, but…
Still dwelling on that, she moved to the chair behind the desk, letting her hood fall. If she chose the other one, she’d be scared of the door hitting her when Colton came in.
And then, just as she sat, he entered, shutt
ing the door tight and sliding the bolt behind him. Maybe he really was planning something besides talk.
He glanced at her for a moment—clearly he had expected to be the one behind the desk—and then sat.
“I am glad you came,” he said.
“Are you?” The question was out before she could think to hold it back.
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh.” She had not expected that simple answer. Nor had she expected the warm look in his eyes.
“Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“No. My mother is at a musicale this evening, and I simply said I wanted to stay home and finish a book. She knows I am not musical. My brother and father are both out as well, although neither deemed it necessary to inform me of their plans.”
Colton merely smiled.
“You wanted to talk?” she asked, unwilling to face awkward silence.
“Yes, I want you to tell me more of what you want. If we are to go forward, I want to be sure that the needs of both of us are met.”
They were back to this circle, and she didn’t understand why they couldn’t have had this conversation in the park. “I want to please you.”
“No. What do you want? What do you dream of when you lie in bed at night? What are your fantasies?”
Oh, now, that was a little different. And so hard to answer. “Most recently I’ve thought of you and what we’ve done.”
“What in particular?” He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the desk.
“Did you really bring me here to discuss this?”
“Yes. If we are going to do this, then I must understand what it is that makes your heart beat faster, what makes you pant, what makes your juices flow.”
“My juices flow?” She was sounding like a parrot, but even after everything it was hard to believe he meant what he seemed to.
Again he raised that brow.
He did mean that.
“Well,” she tried to begin. “I suppose thinking of you and what we have done. I think about what it was like to watch you bring yourself pleasure.”
“You enjoyed that, did you?”
Did he need her to say these things? “Embarrassment” was too mild a word for the way she was feeling. “Yes.”
“And what of showing me your breasts—did you like that too?”
“Yes. I have already told you I like that.”
“And what exactly did you like: the feeling of your skin, the sensation of your touch, knowing that I found you desirable, the knowledge that somebody else might see?”
She bowed her head. She had dreamed of that; how did he know? “I—I did think about that.”
“And did you like it?”
“In my thoughts it was exciting, but I don’t think I’d really want to have someone watch. Granderson taught me that.”
“But you like my watching?”
She swallowed. “Yes. And I like having you tell me what to do. I liked not having to worry. I liked having no responsibility beyond agreement.”
“And did you dream of being under my command again, of fulfilling my every wish?”
“Yes.” Was he going to give her another command here and now? Her eyes darted about the room.
“You look as if you are having ideas right now, ideas like the ones I am asking you about.”
She didn’t answer.
“Are you imagining what I could do to you? Do you imagine yourself bent over the desk, your skirts raised high? Your ass bare to my touch, to my eyes, to my cock?”
God, she was imagining that. She hadn’t had a good picture, but as he spoke it was all too easy to see, the images clear in her mind. Her breath grew shallow, and she pressed her thighs together.
“What else do you dream of? Have you read Byron and imagined yourself kidnapped by a corsair? Or have you imagined yourself a maid pursued by an eager lord? Or perhaps a schoolgirl with a strict tutor?”
“I—I—I…” She didn’t know what to say. Her eyes dropped to the desk. “I didn’t know enough to imagine before that night in the garden. I’d heard talk of such feelings, but until I felt them it was hard to want them, and since then I’ve been too busy remembering what we have done—although sometimes I think of your hands instead of my own upon me. And I’ve imagined touching your cock, although I am not quite sure what it feels like and what makes it hard.”
“And you never had these thoughts before? Never dreamed in such a way?”
“Sometimes I used to stare at your hands and I would think about them touching my cheek. Your fingers are so long and strong. I wanted to feel them on me.”
“Only your cheek?”
“On other places too, but I wasn’t quite sure what other places would feel like. I knew I liked it when you brushed my cheek.”
“And now?”
“I still don’t know what it will feel like when you touch me anywhere besides my face, although I do have a much better idea.”
“I imagine you do. But back to my earlier question: If we are going to do this, I need more of an idea of what excites you. Surely you must have awoken some morning with a half-remembered dream that left you all a-tingle.”
She was glad she was still looking down, not meeting his eyes. But, even as she had the thought, Colton reached out and placed a single finger under her chin, raising her face to meet his.
“Remember our discussion last night about honesty? Let me see your eyes and know what you think.” He stared at her as if seeking her innermost secrets, and perhaps he was.
This was far harder than anything he had asked of her body. “I sometimes dream of having been an English spy in France during the war. It always seemed most exciting when I heard whispers when I was younger.”
Still his eyes held hers. “Tell me more.”
“I am captured and refuse to tell my secrets, but the lieutenant is most persistent.”
“Oh.” Colton’s eyes had taken on a strange glow. “And?”
It was so hard to say these things, even when there was not much to say. “I am tied up. I have no control. The room is dark, but I know he is there. I can feel him walking about me, watching me, waiting. My whole body is tight and nervous. I know he is going to do things to me. I know he is going to try everything to make me talk. I bite my lips, determined to hold them still, but I feel…I don’t know exactly what I feel, but I know he will begin soon. I can feel my heart racing. I want to run and yet I feel so secure there in my bonds. I should be frightened, and I am, but mostly I am waiting.”
“And then?” He leaned farther across the desk, the finger on her chin tracing a light pattern.
His eyes held her, made her see the whole dream in her mind, made her want to…“And then I wake up. I do want to tell you more, but always just as the lieutenant steps from the dark, just as I know that things are about to happen, I awake. And I can feel myself caught there on the edge but unable to go farther.”
Colton’s hand dropped and he leaned back. “That will do for a start,” he said softly. “But I want you to think of any other dreams you have had.”
“Well, it is not a dream, but…”
“Yes?”
“My friend told me that there is a room here that looks like something from The Arabian Nights. We read it together, which is probably why she told me at all. She would tell me nothing else, except that I should talk to Madame Rouge.”
“And you would like to see this room?”
Now her eyes did lower. “Yes.”
“You have given me much to think about—and I will keep your previous preferences in mind. I shall do nothing yet to endanger your virginity.” He rose from the desk. “Do you have a carriage waiting again?”
That was all? She had been sure that he did intend more than talk.
A smile flickered across his lips. “Don’t worry, my angel. I will not disappoint. I just need time to decide how to proceed. Why don’t you hurry home and I will talk to Ruby about our next step.”
“How will I know when
to meet you?”
“Do you ride?”
“Yes, although I am not a brilliant horsewoman.”
“But adequate?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then meet me tomorrow morning in the park again, and we can ride and talk.”
“That will not be convenient.”
He stared at her, waiting for her to explain.
“I do not have a mount in the city, and I am sure my father would not let me ride his. And even if he did, I do not have a maid who could escort me. Perhaps we could walk. Or meet by the ducks as we used to.”
“I am in the mood for a ride, and you do want to please me, don’t you?” His brows drew tight. “Let it be the day after, then, and I will send both mount and escort. Is that acceptable?”
“I suppose.” She was sure he could see her doubt: Having him loan her a mount didn’t seem as if it would cause any less comment.
“Then go.”
“But…” As she rose to standing, she realized that her body wanted far more than to go home to her lonely bed. She came around the desk and started to move toward him. Surely he could be tempted. She tried to breathe in fully, to push her breasts toward him.
“No.” He held a hand out. “You must learn some patience.” But then he leaned closer, his breath whispering about her ear. “You did like it when your dream lieutenant kept you waiting and wondering, did you not? Go home, and when you are in your bed tonight let your hands glide over your body and think just what it is that you want him to do to you—I will ask for your report. And you can be assured that I will be thinking of you and what you are doing. Now go.”
Pulling her hood up, she hurriedly opened the door and strode into the hall, only to collide with a broad male chest.
The breath rushed out of her, even as the hood she had half up fell back, leaving her gazing into the dark, brooding eyes of the Marquess of Swanston.
She stared for a single second, feeling horror fill her, although his expression changed not in the slightest. Then, yanking her hood into position, she fled into the night, hearing the clattering steps of an accompanying footman racing to catch her.
