A Season to Be Sinful

by Jo Goodman

  Lily cupped her hand around his and raised it to her lips. She kissed his knuckles, then turned his hand over and placed her mouth against the heart of his palm. “If you can think that I am no whore,” she said, “then I can think you are a good and decent man.”

  Sherry stared at her, then nodded once. He used the hand she held to pull her away from the headboard and closer to him. “Will you let me love you, Lily?” He bent his head and whispered against her mouth, “Will you let me give you pleasure?”

  She moaned softly. As a reply it was sufficiently eloquent. With only his mouth on hers he pressed her back to the sheets and stretched. She uncurled along the length of him, and her hands lifted to his shoulders. The silk dressing gown he wore was cool under her fingertips, but through it she could feel the heat of his skin.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said. He nudged her lips with his, wetting them with his tongue. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes.”

  He did it again, flicking his tongue across her lips. “Will you like it inside your mouth?”

  “I never have . . . save with you . . . .”

  It was enough. He took advantage of the sweet opening she gave him and kissed her deeply. His tongue played over hers and drew out a response that he knew was genuine as her hips thrust forward and pressed against his groin. He slid one hand to her hip, stroking, but gentling also, and all the while he continued to kiss her.

  He alternated the rhythm of the kiss, making it so languorous it was like a drug to the senses, then nibbling on her lips as though he meant only to tease a taste from her. “This?” he asked her, then his mouth found the delicate hollow just behind her ear.

  “Mmm.”

  “And this?” The question vibrated against her skin as he went lower and sipped the skin in the curve of her neck.

  “Mm-yes.”

  He dallied there for a while, using his teeth to worry her flesh then laving the spot with his tongue. Sherry felt her grow restless for something more, but he was content to remain where he was, making only short forays to her collarbone and the hollow at the base of her throat. When he finally pressed his mouth along the neckline of her shift her body fairly thrummed for him.

  “Yes,” she said without being asked.

  He did not lift her shift or ask her to do so. His lips closed over her nipple through the batiste. He drew it into his mouth and sucked. Once dampened, the soft fabric became deliciously abrasive. He had only to drag it across her skin to make her feel as if his mouth was still there. It protected her when he rolled the bud between his teeth.

  She made a sound that might have been a protest when he raised his head, but it died at the back of her throat as he bent again to give attention to her other breast. Her slender frame quivered. She did not know what to do with her hands.

  “Hold on to me,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”

  It seemed odd to her that it made sense. Her back was firmly against the mattress and she was in no danger of falling out of the bed, yet he had said the right words to her because he made her feel as if she were climbing. Pleasure rose like steps, and each time she placed one foot in front of the other she was also being lifted.

  He had made her feel this heat in her belly before, and it had come to nothing. Now she felt it in her breasts, in her thighs, even in the tips of her fingers, and believed for the first time that there might be something more that would follow. The very air she breathed was warmer. The steady suck of his mouth was like a second pulse. Thin tongues of fire licked her skin, first over it, then under. Tiny darts of pleasure followed the same course as her blood, pooling between her thighs. The heaviness there was unfamiliar. So was the dampness.

  She closed her eyes. Somehow he knew it was a mistake before she did.

  “Look at me,” Sherry said, his face hovering just above her. Her tension had been instantly communicated to him. “There is no one else here.”

  Lily pressed her lips together and nodded. “Your hand is—”

  “Do you want me to remove it?” He began drawing it down her thigh toward her knee.

  “No.” It was no surprise to Lily that his hand was on her leg, only that it was on her bare leg. She could not remember him sliding it under her shift. “No,” she repeated on a breathy sigh.

  “And here?” he asked, slipping it over the curve of her thigh to her mons.

  Her hips jerked, but it was not to get away from his touch.

  “That’s right. Will you open for me, Lily?”

  She had never been asked before. In that moment he gave her back some part of her self. Watching him, she slowly raised one knee. Her thighs parted, and his hand cupped her in a pocket of heat.

  His kiss engaged all of her senses, and she rocked hard against his hand. She was glad she was holding on because she had not understood until she was falling just how high she had climbed.

  This time pleasure was absolute in its release. No more tugging, no tiny darts. In free fall it spiraled out of control, and there was no part of her body left untouched by it. She inhaled sharply, then could not seem to release that breath. Caught by the need to move, she dug her heels into the mattress for purchase and finally cried out.

  Sherry cradled her. Candlelight bathed Lily’s face but did not account for the pink wash of color in her cheeks. She breathed softly and shallowly, and her mouth trembled as she sipped the air. This time when she closed her eyes, Sherry did not urge her to do otherwise. He held her in his arms long past the time she fell asleep.

  When Lily woke she was in her own room with no memory of how she arrived there. Her recollection of detail until she fell asleep was remarkably clear, and she was grateful to have no time to dwell on it. She’d slept almost an hour longer than was her habit, and if she did not arrive in the schoolroom at the appointed time, the scoundrels would be upon her.

  She washed, dressed, and decided to forego her morning walk in favor of eating breakfast. The boys were helping themselves at the sideboard when she entered the dining room. Lord Sheridan, who normally took his morning meal in his room, was sitting at the head of the table sipping coffee and reading from a folded newspaper.

  He lowered the paper just a fraction so that he might view her over the top. “Good morning,” he said. His eyes fell back on the paper, and he resumed reading.

  Lily wished him the same, though she did not think her voice was half so cool as his. She greeted the boys with more enthusiasm and helped herself at the sideboard when they moved on. Pinch was waiting for her at the table and held out a chair.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Master Midge, will you pass the jam?” She spread a dollop of it on a triangle of toast. “Have any of you given thought to where we might begin today? I am all for doing sums.” She expected this would be met by some sort of protest, at the very least a groan from Dash who hadn’t the same skill with numbers as the other two. Instead, they darted glances at one another, apparently looking for a spokesman. Lily watched this for a moment, then looked suspiciously toward the head of the table. Sherry remained behind his newspaper, but Lily was certain he was hiding now.

  It was Midge, always the most vulnerable to a frontal assault, that Lily singled out. “What has his lordship promised you will do today?”

  Midge’s deep blue eyes could not hold Lily’s direct gaze. Blinking rapidly, he began to sink in his chair.

  “I say, Master Midge, buck up.” This was from Sherry, and he had not come out from behind the paper. “She hasn’t applied thumbscrews.”

  Midge gripped the sides of his chair. “Ye ain’t lookin’ at ’er,” he grumbled softly. “She’s got a way o’ makin’ a body go all melty.”

  “The brain, too,” Pinch said helpfully.

  Sherry’s paper rattled a little as his shoulders shook, but he stayed where he was.

  “Well, Midge?” asked Lily.

  “We’re to go to the village with Mr. Pipkin and Tolley and fetch supplies for Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Gant.”

&nb
sp; Bennet and Gant were the head cook and baker at Granville. Lily knew very well that there were helpers to manage precisely what Sherry was sending the boys to do. Had he not placed them in her charge in the schoolroom she would have been pleased to have them assigned such tasks.

  “We have a list,” Dash said. He lifted his right buttock and produced a paper from under it. He held it up for Lily to see and surrendered it when she put out her hand. “It is everything we require for Lady Rivendale’s visit.”

  From behind the newspaper there was some throat clearing.

  “Lady Rivendale?” asked Lily.

  “’Is lordship’s aunt,” Midge said.

  “Godmother,” Pinch said. “She’s ’is godmother.”

  “But he calls her Aunt Georgia.”

  Sherry lowered the newspaper long enough to say, “That does not give you leave to call her anything but Lady Rivendale.”

  Lily glanced down at her plate and realized she would never do breakfast justice. Her appetite had fled. It was with some difficulty that she was able to swallow the toast she’d already bit off. “There is to be a guest at Granville?”

  Oblivious to her alarm, the boys nodded in unison. Dash spoke up. “She’s a very grand lady—a countess, to be sure—and ’is lordship says we shall ’ave to be on our best behavior. And even if we are, she might pinch our cheeks anyway.”

  “Then it’s good that you’ve come to have such plump ones.”

  Dash grinned in a particularly disarming manner, tempting Lily with those cheeks. It was Midge who caught one and gave it a twist. “Ow!” Dash elbowed Midge, knocking him sideways. Pinch swung his legs hard under the table, kicking them both. “Ow!” they cried together. “Wot was that for?”

  Sherry set his paper down, and the boys came immediately to attention. With a bland smile at Lily, he raised his coffee cup to his lips.

  Doing her best to ignore Sheridan, Lily encouraged the boys to finish eating. She returned Dash’s list to him. Neither he nor the others seemed to be aware of how many sums they would be doing while completing the baker’s order. It was further proof of his lordship’s cleverness, though Lily thought she had had her fill of it this morning.

  Once the boys were excused and their plates were cleared by the maid, Lily sat quietly in anticipation of Sherry making some explanation about his visitor. When he offered nothing save the paper for her perusal, she understood how little had been changed by the evening past. He was right not to engage her in conversation in front of the servants, not when the boys were absent and the topic would have veered sharply away from their lessons and progress, yet she could not deny that she felt his silence as a slight.

  Sherry regarded Lily’s full plate when he had finished his own. “You are not hungry, Miss Rose?”

  “No, m’lord.”

  “Then you will not mind joining me in the library. Meredith made me a present of some primers for the boys when I remarked that I had them in residence. It has been many years since he taught, so the primers are old. Still, I believe they will be useful in the boys’ lessons. Naturally, I should like your opinion.”

  For a moment Lily could not think who he meant, then she remembered it had been Sir Arthur Meredith’s house party that Sheridan had attended. “Of course. You are always welcome to my opinion.”

  Sherry managed not to choke on his last mouthful of coffee, but it was a narrow thing. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth was what he thought as he accompanied her to the library, and once they were behind the pocket doors, it was more of the same.

  He sighed when she immediately put herself out of his reach. “If you mean to give me the sharp edge of your tongue, have done with it quickly. There is already precious little time for an explanation.”

  “Then you do mean to offer one.”

  “Certainly. Did you doubt it?” He held up one hand to forestall her reply and hitched his hip on the edge of his desk. “I see that you did. Will you not sit?”

  Lily could not. Her agitation was so great that it was difficult not to pace. Sitting would have placed too much strain on her nerves. “Who is Lady Rivendale?”

  “Very well, we go straightaway to the matter.” He folded his arms casually in front of him. “She is as the lads reported: my godmother. She is no relation, but was the dearest friend of my mother, and Cybelline and I were always instructed to call her aunt. She is also good friend to Sir Arthur and perhaps something more, though that is my sister’s speculation in her latest correspondence and none of my affair.”

  “Then she was present at the rout.”

  “Indeed, she was most likely the one who suggested the party to him. I have it on good authority—his—that he prefers a quieter existence in the country. My godmother, however, is a force of nature, and if Cybelline is correct and Sir Arthur regards her in a romantic light, then he is particularly vulnerable to lending his support to whatever notion takes her fancy. She had it in her mind to get away from London. Her cousin—he represents himself as a relation on her late husband’s side—arrived in town shortly before we departed.” He frowned slightly as he tried to recall the specifics of an earlier conversation. “Did I not mention she visited my home when we were yet in London? It was the same afternoon I went back to the Blue Ruination. She was waiting for me when I arrived home.”

  “You may have; I cannot remember. You will understand I was more concerned regarding your call upon Blue.”

  “That is only because you have not made Lady Rivendale’s acquaintance,” he said, more sincere than not. “The purpose of her visit on that occasion was twofold. First, she had learned that my physician was regularly attending me at the house and required the evidence of her own eyes that I was not dying, and second, she wanted to apprise me of her cousin’s arrival in town. She has little regard for him, as his interest seems to be entirely about making a claim of inheritance. Since his connection to her is quite distant and was brought to her attention not above a year ago, she is out of patience with him and would put the whole of it on my plate.”

  Lily was now recalling more of her conversation with Sheridan that day. While she had been making him defend his trek into Holborn, he had also had these matters of family on his mind. He should have shown her the door. Even though she knew the risk to her own well-being, she felt her heart softening. “You could not tell her your plate was already quite full.”

  “No, that is not the sort of thing she would understand. She would encourage me to find a serving platter.”

  Lily smiled. “I see.”

  “You don’t, but you will.” Sherry riffled through some papers and cards on his desk until he found what he wanted. He waved the correspondence once before he set it back on the stack. “I received her letter this morning. Pray, keep in mind that I only left her yesterday, and she never once hinted at her intent to come here. She must have posted this before I was gone for it to arrive here in so timely a manner. She has left me with no opportunity to dissuade her from making the journey, which she knows I would have done if she’d told me.”

  “How would she know that?”

  “Because I talked her out of accompanying me to Granville when she seized upon the idea in London.”

  “Oh.”

  “Precisely.”

  “She is cunning, then.”

  “Thoroughly.”

  “It is natural for her to be curious about the boys.” Lily glimpsed something in Sheridan’s expression that she could not quite divine. “She does know about the boys, doesn’t she?”

  “Not from me. Sir Arthur told her after I took him into my confidence.”

  “Ahh. Well, there you have it. You said yourself that he is vulnerable. I doubt it required any effort on her part to make him give you up. I’m afraid this is exactly what you made it: a fine mess.” Her eyes fell on the short stack of books on a side table. “Are those the primers? May I take them with me?”

  “You mean to go now?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what more you wou
ld have me say or do.”

  “Have you not considered that she is certain to be interested in you?”

  “Me?” Lily had started to pick up the books; now she lowered them back to the table. “Why should I come to her attention? It is certainly remarkable for you to take three stray boys under your protection, but to hire someone to teach them is not in the least exceptional.”

  “She is certain to point out that a tutor would have been more the thing. Sir Arthur did.”

  Lily’s mouth flattened momentarily. “Is there nothing you left unsaid to the man? Did he apply thumbscrews?”

  “I thought I was speaking in confidence.” He added a shade defensively, “And he was a teacher before distinguishing himself in matters of law, so his opinion was of merit.”

  Lily doubted that Sheridan said anything that was not of a purpose. She did not acquit him of contriving to bring about just this end. Poor Lady Rivendale was most likely the one being manipulated, which meant that she was being led about by the nose as well. “How long to do you expect her to visit?”

  “She doesn’t say. A sennight would not be unreasonable.”

  “I can arrange to be ill for that long,” she said. “Something contagious, I think. Influenza?”

  “It is not the season for it. And why should you go to any lengths at all to avoid her? I said she will express an interest in you, not want to live in your pockets. In any event, she is living in mine so you cannot have her.”

  Lily laughed outright. “Your lordship is a fraud. She is everything dear to you.”

  “I don’t deny it. It doesn’t mean, though, that she isn’t also deuced inconvenient.”

  “And unlikely to change her ways.” Lily picked up the primers and cradled them in the crook of her arm. “Perhaps leprosy will keep her from my door.”

  “Lily.”

  “Smallpox?”

  He shook his head. “You will only make her more curious.”