“Was that what you meant?” she whispered. When Kate had been well kissed her voice took on a husky, sensual timbre. He liked it.
“A fair start,” he murmured. “I feel slightly gratified.”
“Slightly!”
“A little.” He smiled at her. “What else can you think of?”
She gazed back at him, her eyes dilated but steady. “Do you want to go upstairs?”
He rather liked this; sitting on his lap, she had to hold tight to him, and her breasts, with the amethyst pendant nestled between them, were right at eye level. “There’s no need for that. Lift your skirt.”
She jumped as he tickled the inside of her ankle. “We are in the dining room!” she whispered in horror.
“Bragg won’t come in.” Gerard nuzzled the underside of her jaw. “You smell delicious . . .”
“Someone else might!” She ducked away from his kiss. “To clear the dishes!”
Gerard sighed and lifted her off him. He strode across the room, catching up a chair as he went, and wedged the chair under the doorknob of the door into the hall. He went to the sideboard and shoved it until the corner of it blocked the other door. He turned back to Kate, who was watching with her mouth open and bright spots of pink in her cheeks, and took off his jacket and tossed it aside. “Now, lift your skirt.”
Katherine was speechless—and, to her intense shock, aroused. He wanted to have her here, in the dining room, where dinner still sat on the table, growing cold. The pendant he had given her brushed against her breasts every time she moved, sending ripples of gooseflesh over her skin that seemed to course straight between her legs. He wasn’t having an affair with that lady in Milsom Street. That mattered a great deal to her. She grasped her skirt and pulled it upward a few inches.
“Good,” he murmured, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he watched her. “Further, please.”
Her face was hot as she complied. Her knees shook as she exposed them.
He dropped into a chair and crooked one finger at her. “Come here.”
Slowly she did, still clutching handfuls of her skirt. Gerard sat forward and skimmed his palm over her leg when she stopped in front of him. “You have lovely legs.” His eyes were as bright as blue flames. His hand stroked higher, up her thigh. “Lift your skirt higher,” he said softly. “All the way, Kate.”
“This is indecent,” she whispered.
“And the shift.” A wild, sinful grin touched his mouth. “There’s nothing indecent about a wife pleasing her husband.”
“This really pleases you?” But it was obvious it did. Katherine took a deep breath and inched her skirt higher.
“If you ever have doubts about how to please me, I shall be glad to tell you just . . . exactly . . . what to do.” With a deft turn of his wrist, he flipped up the hem of her dress and petticoat, completely exposing her. Katherine flinched, but he held tight to her clothing and kept her in place. “I told you this morning,” he murmured, tracing his fingertips down her belly into the curls between her thighs, “men are simple creatures. Let me touch you like this . . .” His fingers drifted lower, and Katherine quivered. “Kiss me as you did a few moments ago . . .” He tucked the folds of fabric into her fist, then slid his free hand around her hip to grasp her bottom and draw her nearer. “And I shall be a happy man.”
She had to brace one hand against his shoulder as his wicked fingers teased her. Of their own volition her hips began to move, rocking into the delirious sensation he caused. “I shall”—he slid one long finger inside her, and Katherine almost fell over—“I shall try,” she gasped. It was torture to stand here and let him caress her like that.
“And if you respond to me as you did last night . . .” He laughed quietly, and pushed another finger inside, sliding high and then withdrawing. “As your body is doing now—Good Lord, Kate, I can’t wait . . .” He tore open the buttons on his trousers, then hauled her forward. “Spread your legs to either side of me,” he rasped. “Now sink down—there—Yes—like that—” He threw back his head and groaned as she eased her weight down, onto his organ. It was awkward and strange, with her legs draped over his and his fingers still stroking her as he slid into her.
Perhaps because of the different position, it didn’t feel as intrusive this time. She pressed her slippers into the carpet and tried to balance. He grabbed her waist and held her as he slid lower in the chair. “You are in command,” he said tightly. “Do as you wish.”
She didn’t move. “Tell me what to do.”
His eyes flew open, and he looked at her. For a moment the silence stretched taut, Katherine balanced on the balls of her feet, Gerard breathing hard beneath her, the junction of their bodies hidden under the billows of her skirt. “Hold on to my shoulders,” he said at last. “Push with your feet to rise up, then fall.” She tried it. When she sank down, he flexed his hips to surge upward into her, and she gasped. “Do it again,” he commanded. “And again.”
She caught the rhythm. Katherine bowed her head and closed her eyes, concentrating on every feeling. She took him into her body, then pulled away. Unlike last night, where she had allowed him in, this time it seemed she was taking from him. It made her feel powerful, in a way; rather than lying tamely on her back, she was on top, moving as slowly or as quickly as she desired. She tried it both ways, privately reveling in how her actions seemed to affect her husband. He was watching her with feverishly bright eyes, his jaw tensed. She paused once to adjust her footing and unthinkingly squeezed her thighs together. Gerard’s whole body spasmed, and he sucked in a loud breath, so she did it again, just to marvel that she could cause that.
His hands slid beneath her skirt, and as she moved on him, he began to touch her. Now her body jerked and swayed involuntarily as his fingers circled and stroked that hidden little spot she had never known existed. Gerard whispered terse instructions from time to time, telling her to lean backward and not to stop moving. But she couldn’t, not when there was such a rushing in her ears and her muscles were all drawn taut and she could barely hold herself upright. Gerard made a harsh sound and tossed his head to one side, but he kept teasing her, kept stroking her, kept tormenting her until Katherine gasped and broke, release flooding through her in a hot, liquid wave. His hands clamped down on her hips, holding them tightly to his as she shivered and sobbed in relief.
He gathered her to his chest, one hand still curved around her bottom so she wouldn’t fall. Of course, she was also still impaled on him, and felt as though she couldn’t separate herself from him if she wished. Not that she wished to at all. A vaguely silly smile curled her lips at the image, and she rubbed her cheek against his chest. What a ninny she’d been. “Thank you for the necklace,” she murmured.
Gerard chuckled. “I’m delighted you like it. If it doesn’t match any of your new gowns, you’ll have to wear it, and nothing else, for me.”
“That’s indecent.” But she smiled anyway. His heartbeat was a strong steady thump beneath her temple.
“By God, I hope so.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “You’re not much concerned with propriety.”
He regarded her from under lowered eyelids, his eyes still gleaming. “Some propriety. But at home, when we are alone . . .” One corner of his mouth curled wickedly. “I hope to tempt you into ever greater indecency.”
“In the library, I suppose?”
His smile grew broader. “A capital idea, Lady Gerard.”
Her heart soared at the way he looked at her. Perhaps this was the way to win his love. Once she’d gotten over the initial shock, she realized it was rather exciting to make love in the dining room. Until now, she’d forgotten where they were anyway. And it was tremendously thrilling to know he wanted her at all.
But it happened because she’d made a gross error in judgment about him. He’d been exasperated with her when he pulled her into his lap. She should apologize before he had time to think on it. “I’m sorry I leaped to concl
usions earlier,” she said hesitantly. “I had no grounds to do so.”
He sighed. “How many mistresses did Howe have?”
She didn’t move. “Four I knew of.”
“Ah. Once again”—he tapped her nose—“I am not Howe. Don’t presume I’m anything like him.”
Never. She had never felt so much breathless hope for her future with Lord Howe, never felt suffocated by joy when Howe touched her, and certainly never lifted her skirts for Howe in the dining room. Every time she saw some sign that Gerard wasn’t interested in her affections, he managed to do something else that completely overwhelmed her reserve and put her in ever-deeper danger of falling madly in love with him. She smiled, trying to keep her expression serene instead of glowing with incipient adoration. “I won’t. Ever again.”
Chapter 14
Lady Darby and her sister, Mrs. Woodforde, might have been two halves of the same person.
They spoke in the same quick, lilting voice, and regularly finished each other’s sentences. Their brains seemed to run along exactly the same lines and at the same tempo. Even their gestures were the same. And to cap it all off, they looked virtually identical. Lady Darby was a little plumper, and Mrs. Woodforde a little taller, but otherwise, Katherine thought, their own mother might mistake one for the other.
Together, they were two of the most entertaining people she had ever encountered. From the moment they called, she was caught up in the rapid swirl of their conversation, sent in one direction, then another, flooded with information about other residents of Bath and the peculiarities of Queen Square one moment and barraged with polite questions about herself the next. All of it was done in such a deft and friendly way, though, she found herself smiling and answering freely.
“We are just so delighted to have such a pretty new neighbor, delighted!” declared Mrs. Woodforde, beaming. “Barbara, isn’t she the loveliest girl you’ve ever seen?”
Lady Darby nodded vigorously. “Indeed! What I wouldn’t give for such fine skin and eyes.”
“You flatter me,” Katherine said with a blush of discomfort.
“Stuff and nonsense. Barbara was considered a pretty girl in her youth, but she never had a good complexion.” Mrs. Woodforde leaned forward and whispered loudly, “Cow pox, you know.”
“Hush, Alice!” cried Lady Darby. “It is two trifling scars!”
“I think she must have been a great beauty,” said Katherine, not certain how to react.
“Well, perhaps,” allowed Mrs. Woodforde as her sister smiled in delight at Katherine. “We are twins, you know.”
“I am the younger,” put in Lady Darby.
“I am the prettier,” added Mrs. Woodforde with a triumphant air. Katherine bit back a smile, only to let it out when both older ladies burst into laughter at each other.
“You must forgive us, Lady Gerard. We have only each other most of the time, and sometimes forget ourselves.“ Mrs. Woodforde dabbed at her eyes, still chuckling.
“Yes, no daughters to pass on our great beauty to,” said Lady Darby, sending her sister into another gale of laughter. “And our sons all gone off here and there! Mrs. Woodforde’s eldest is at sea, like his father was, and my boy has taken up the law, in London. So you’ve done a great service to us all, bringing your tall, handsome husband to ornament our Square.” Lady Darby winked at her. “Shall we see you at the Assembly Rooms soon?”
“Er . . . Possibly.” Katherine smiled to cover the fact that she didn’t know if her husband liked to dance or play cards. “The captain has taken a box at the theater.”
“Excellent! We attend the theater every week, twice if the weather is poor. Good weather, as you must know, Lady Gerard, leads to a great many entertainments in Bath. And in the autumn, there are festive activities, which you will no doubt enjoy—you do plan to remain in Bath through the end of the year?”
“I—well . . .”
“Hush, Alice,” Lady Darby scolded her sister. “Bath is miserable in winter, and you know it. You fly for the coast at the first frost.”
“ ’Tis not miserable,” Mrs. Woodforde cried. “We go to Portishead for the admiral’s health.” Her husband was a retired Admiral of the White, as she had mentioned three times already.
Lady Darby sniffed. “By health, you mean his desire to be solitary.”
“He enjoys better health out of society,” her sister retorted.
“I am sure his absence does society no harm, either.” Both ladies went off in another fit of laughter. Making sport of each other’s husbands appeared to be a habit of theirs. “Quite unlike your husband, Lady Gerard. We do so hope to see a good deal of both of you.”
“They’re newly married, Barbara!” Mrs. Woodforde fanned herself. “We shall be lucky to see them at all!”
“Pish.” Lady Darby made a face. “Newly married was the only time Sir Philip would escort me about. We are hardly ever together now.”
“And I don’t see why you are complaining about it!” More laughter. “But really, Lady Gerard, you must have him wound around your little finger by now! He’s a very fortunate fellow in our opinion, surely you can persuade him.”
“Of course she can,” declared Lady Darby. “I implore you, Lady Gerard. We are so very delighted to have new neighbors. Queen Square shall be ever so much livelier now you are here. You must dine with us.”
“I should like that very much.” Katherine smiled a little nervously. She had gathered from Bragg that gossipy old ladies were not the company Gerard enjoyed best, but one must be neighborly. And it was so lovely to be invited anywhere, and to be free to accept as she wished, she decided she would go alone if she must. The two ladies were so warm and amusing, surely one dinner would do no harm.
By the time her callers left, after much more amusement over husbands and unstinting encouragement to fling herself headlong into the social whirl of Bath, Katherine felt a bit battered. She was glad they called, but goodness, they could talk a deaf man into madness. She hoped her husband wouldn’t be displeased that she’d accepted an invitation to dine with them at some point. She resolved to tell him about the ladies that night at dinner.
As usual, he was out all day, doing she knew not what, and returned home looking somber and a touch impatient. They had been in Bath several days now, and every day was the same. Gerard left early in the morning and didn’t return until dinner. They dined together, talked of trifling matters or nothing at all, then went to bed. That last part was invariably wonderful. However much Katherine despaired of the gulf between them emotionally, she was continually astonished and thrilled by the physical pleasures of her marriage. Far from being put off by her lack of knowledge or ability, Gerard was happy to teach her. After the night he seduced her into lifting her skirt in the dining room, when she confessed she didn’t know what to do, he didn’t hesitate to tell her, in explicit and naughty detail, how best to please them both. It made her blush to think of the things she had done at his instruction—blush, and grow a bit aroused. In bed, her marriage was a hundred times better than anything she ever dreamed it might be.
But out of bed, they were still strangers. She still had no idea why they’d come to Bath, although it clearly had something to do with the scandal that was breaking when they left London. She still only knew the main details of that story since it hadn’t reached the Bath papers, and Gerard didn’t order the London papers. She had gleaned some knowledge of his personal habits and likes, but of his private thoughts and feelings, she knew almost nothing. As much as she told herself it was still early, she felt a bit of despair creeping in. Being close to him, intimately so at nights, was making her want more. Her belief that she could be content with a gradual growth of friendship and affection was suffering severely. Every rapture he wrung from her body, every pleasure he introduced her to, only made her feel more keenly the lack of everything else. His lovemaking had stripped away her stiff and proper hide, leaving her heart defenseless and exposed.
&
nbsp; This night she cast about for a way to catch his interest. Perhaps it was her fault he didn’t share himself with her; she knew she was a rather dull person, with simple, quiet tastes. She must make a greater effort. “Our neighbors came to call today,” she said as he sliced the beef.
“Oh? Are they entertaining?”
She thought of the two ladies making each other laugh so hard their faces were pink. “Yes. They invited us to dine with them.”
“Excellent,” he murmured, pouring gravy over his plate. “By all means. Who are they?”
“Lady Woodforde, from across the Square, and Lady Darby, from next door.”
His eyes flashed to hers. Slowly he put down his fork. “Elderly ladies?”
Katherine cleared her throat. “They aren’t so very old. And they were very amiable.”
“Hmm.” Gerard stabbed at his potatoes, his piercing gaze never wavering from her. “I refuse to be a source of interest and information to the gossips.”
“I don’t think you are, except for being a tall, handsome army officer who is totally unknown to them and new to their street.”
He grunted. “So far.”
She cast about for another topic as he began eating, since this one was clearly not promising. “Did you make progress today?”
He looked at her, narrow-eyed. “Progress?”
“On whatever you came to Bath to do.”
After a moment he shrugged. “Not enough. Don’t speak of it to the ladies who called.”
Katherine picked at her food in silence. Gerard ate heartily, as if the discussion were at an end. “I don’t want to cause trouble,” she said at last, after Bragg had cleared away the dishes, and they were alone again. “But I don’t know how to avoid it if I don’t know what it is.”
“You’re not causing trouble.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, tipping his glass of wine to his lips. “But any sort of attention or gossip could complicate things. I need stealth at the moment. Even better would be anonymity, but that’s clearly out of the question.”
Blame It on Bath: The Truth About the Duke Page 15
