Lisette

by Gayle Eden

  Mr. Smith seemed to be enjoying himself too. He played with gusto, and laughed easily. Even when the younger sisters fouled his serve by running him almost over, he simply laughed and then took the serve again—a very nice one that began to turn the set in his and Monty’s favor.

  Lisette finally got her alone moment with Marston—after exchanging only long glances and subtle private smiles when they were in any distance to. She, Juliette, and Haven had finished an archery contest, which Juliette won, and Lisette went in to clean up and change into a light cream summer frock, and braid her hair.

  The servants had prepared an abundance of food and there were blankets spread out here and there for a picnic. The duke and duchess actually moved from the courtyard also, to the lawn. Marston came beside her at the tables—his black hair finger combed. He muttered a thank you as a servant brought him a cool, damp, towel for his face. His muscle and skin showed through the thin lawn shirt where it clung to his sweat dampened back. She liked the look of him too much.

  “You did well,” Lisette, told him, filling a plate from the buffet.

  He cast her a side-glance, and a half-smile that made her tingle. “Thank you, I learn fast if I pay attention.”

  “Um. Certainly you do.”

  They laughed. Haven picked up a bottle of chilled wine. He lifted two glasses and she steered him a bit back from the others, under a sprawling oak. They sat, and Elisha opened the bottle and poured them wine.

  Toasting before eating, he murmured, “To the Wimberly’s.”

  “Thank you.” She winked. “Now eat, I know you are hungry.”

  They ate with the sound of conversations and laughter drifting over. Bursts of amusement and much yelling back and forth as her brothers seemed to be debating something, just to irritate each other. Mr. Smith was entertaining the younger sisters who apparently took it upon themselves to host him at their own spread plaid. They seemed fascinated by whatever tale he was spinning.

  She saw Marston look that way and smile as he chewed his ham and watched April gesture for Smith to lean over, so she could put a crown of flowers on his head.

  When he turned and caught Lisette’s eye, she offered quietly, “He looks at you just as often. He loves you very much.”

  Finishing his ham, Elisha swallowed and took a drink of wine before lying a bit to the side, propped on his elbow. Although he peeled fruit, she had a feeling he did it to keep his hands busy. He replied, “He’s a good man.”

  Letting his gaze skim over her face, and watching the breeze tease strands of her hair, he supplied, “Monty has invited the men over to Wolford for fishing in the morning.”

  “That will be enjoyable.” She grinned, eyeing his face in return. It seemed like forever since she could do that.” Men enjoy doing some things without the ladies about.”

  “I’m sure I shall.” He discreetly reached out his hand so that his fingertips just covered hers.

  She glanced at it, then up again. “I’ll think of some way we can be together privately, before you leave.”

  “Lisette…” There was something in his gaze that stilled her.

  “What is it?”

  “I’d like nothing better. But perhaps—we should be more cautious.”

  She held his gaze. Cautious physically or emotionally? She mused, already knowing which he meant.

  “I am cautious.”

  When he did not comment, she felt tense in her stomach, a little nauseated with anxiety. Her voice was raspy, a little hard perhaps, she offered, “Don’t make me sound like a foolish young woman, Marston. If you mean something else by that, you need to tell me.”

  He eased his hand away and sat up, leaving the fruit where it lay. Forearms were casually on his up-drawn knees, he looked around.

  Her heart beat too fast. Lisette felt a kind of confused panic but admitted, “I couldn’t get you off my mind or out of my dreams this winter. Some nights, I could hear you calling my name.”

  His narrowed gaze turned on hers. “I did... Call your name.”

  “Talk to me, Elisha. Please.”

  He shook his head.

  She did not care who was watching, Lisette scooted over so that she sat beside him, and laid her hand on his muscled forearm. Breathing him, being this close to him, it made her anxiety rise. However, Lisette remembered her mother’s words, and she felt the risk was necessary.

  “Are you enjoying yourself today?”

  “Very much.”

  “Good.” She let her thumb stroke his forearm. “How long can you stay?”

  “Two more days.”

  He was looking at her now, so she glanced up at him. “Make the most of it. The men, my brothers, and his friends, everyone will have activities and things, spur of the moment sometimes.”

  He reached and covered her hand. “I’d spend every moment with you if it were possible.” He added gruffly, “but I want to be fair to you, Lisette, and I don’t think I have been.”

  “I’m a grown woman. I started this—affair. Why don’t you let me decide that for myself?”

  After a second, she went on, “I’m trying to understand what you say, as much as what you don’t, Elisha. It’s not easy.”

  “Lisette. It isn’t about—you.”

  “Are you trying to push me away—end it?”

  He breathed in then let the air release through his nose. “I should. I am doing the taking.”

  “I don’t believe so.” After a bit, she asked, “Would you still pursue a match between us?”

  “You’re not ready—”

  “But if I were?”

  “I’m not the man for you.”

  It felt like a blow. Nevertheless, she took it silently, likely a fool for choosing to believe he was saying that from some sort of protective stance.

  Elisha must have read something in her expression, because he lifted his hand and turned a bit aside, to touch her cheek. “I’m torn between wanting you, and realizing I’m not what you need.”

  She breathed carefully, absorbing that for a moment.

  Lisette covered his hand, and moved it away from her cheek, but held it a little longer. “I initiated our trysts. I drew the lines, and you asked me to keep them firmly established. But I wished you would ask me for something.”

  “If I were a man with any honor at all, Lisette, I wouldn’t have taken as much as I have already.”

  “Being my lover has nothing to do with honor. Or rather, enjoying each other. I see nothing wrong with exchanging pleasure. I don’t wish for you to feel guilt over something that I assumed, brought us both moments of bliss.”

  “It’s not guilt for that. It’s certainly not regret for the moments.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Elisha did not answer but was looking away again.

  She released his hand. Preparing to stand, she murmured, “I am here for you, Elisha. If you want me, you will have to show me when there is opportunity. Anything else… I cannot say, because you won’t let me in close enough to know what it is that troubles you.”

  On her feet, she watched him rise too. He leaned down to pick up the things they had brought. She added, “I want you to enjoy yourself this stay, either way. I want that for you.”

  She was walking away when he called to her.

  Lisette turned, seeing he had handed the glasses and plates to a servant who came to fetch them. He was standing under that tree, one leg slightly out, looking deliciously tall, handsome and dark, as the sun dappled down on his face and shirt.

  Lisette walked back towards him and watched his sensual lips move as he said huskily, “I was starved for the sight of you. When I did arrive last night, you filled my soul with a vision even more beautiful than my winter dreams.”

  Oh. God. Her body and soul both reacted to that. She uttered, “I felt much the same, of you.”

  He shook his head. There was a war of emotions in his eyes. “Can we meet—be alone?” He dampened his lips and glanced around only long enough apparently t
o see if they were being observed.

  “Later tonight. If my father keeps everyone at cards or billiards. Make excuses at some point. I’ll be there, in the back courtyard.”

  He murmured, “I shouldn’t—but I want you.”

  She smiled slightly, understanding him a little bit more. “It’s not as hard as you assume for me, to give you what you want or need. I have desires. Giving is a part of them, too.”

  Their gazes clung for a moment of openness, of heat and memories of kisses and how it felt skin-to-skin, joined and intimate. Their bodies reacted to it. It took some doing to not touch each other, to grab and hold on and kiss each other.

  Lisette said, before turning again to leave him, “Enjoy the day. I’m going to entertain the girls so that mama can play host.”

  “I’ll try.’ That grin of his was struggling to come forward. “My mind will be occupied…”

  “Mine as well.”

  Lisette left him before the verbal could get out of hand.

  Later, as she romped with the sisters and pup, she spied him in a game of cricket with her brother and several others. Lisette smiled watching him put his all into it and watching Monty and Deme slap him on the back after a good play. He had not done that, not any of what he’d partaken of today, and she did not need to know everything to realize it.

  Later still, he was in the shade, sipping ale she suspected, and smoking a cheroot whilst men laughed and talked of something around him. He raised his head and caught her gaze. Across the distance, she felt him touch her. She waited until he looked away to leave the spot, realizing then…what was happening inside.

  She was such a silly fool.

  She was falling in love with him.

  * * * *

  Marston lounged in his thin, linen, knee-length drawers, after a bath. He and Smith were sharing apartments. His friend was also damp haired but wearing fresh trousers. They sat by the window sipping coffee, their feet up and able to see some of the Wimberly’s still going full force out on the lawn.

  “I can see why you’re drawn to her. Drawn here, too,” Smith mused aloud and took a sip of coffee. His eyes turned from the window to Elisha. “It is amazing that they are of the same high society as others. They’ve created something with this mixed family, here at this place.”

  Elisha nodded and flickered his gaze to meet those brown eyes.

  Smith offered, “I was much taken by the image of you and Lady Lisette on that blanket today. You complement each other perfectly, of course. But there was much in the body language…”

  “I tried,” Elisha, admitted. “I could neither tell her yet, nor follow through in—letting her go. She’ll be waiting for me in the courtyard tonight.”

  “I’ll be sure and make myself scarce.” His friend returned. Then offered, “Not speaking of it doesn’t make the emotional connection any less strong. Women have a way of seeing what we try to hide.”

  “I declared I was selfish, and I am.” Elisha stood and braced his hands on the ledge, looking out and seeing Lisette heading into the house. Her hair was a mess and her skirts were creased, but the site stirred him all the more.

  “I don’t think you give her enough credit. It may not make a difference to her.”

  “It will,” Marston murmured grimly. “I would rather be known as aloof and cold than what the real truth of our lives were.”

  “I think you are mistaken.” Smith stood too and looked at him before going to dress. “But I cannot make you see it. I know the pain remembering and living with it brings. I see more of it for you—if you walk away from what you can have with Lisette.”

  Sometime after he had gone, Elisha got himself dressed in dark trousers, polished boots, a silk shirt and jacket. The rest of the guests had left when he joined the family in the dining room for a buffet meal.

  He did not see Lisette until his own plate was empty. She entered with her hair down and tied simply back, wearing a cream summer gown of empire style and slippers.

  As she took her seat at the table, he was invited to the duke’s study with the men for brandy. Their gazes met briefly. Her smile made his knees a little weak. He nodded and left, spending an hour listening to conversation between the duke, his sons and Monty. Smith was included when they moved to billiards, and the evening progressed into night.

  Tensing by the hour, he managed to hold his own in conversation and discussions, but looked for the moment to make his excuse to leave. He had it, after games were done, and someone mentioned the mild weather.

  “If you’ll excuse me, my lords, I think I’ll take a walk in this fresh country air.”

  “Of course.” The duke nodded.

  Marston decided to ignore the somewhat knowing looks from Deme and Monty. He supposed that Lisette confided somewhat in her friends. While he did not know if the men knew they were lovers, he certainly felt an extra pressure at the repercussions, particularly from her male guardians. That caution he spoke of—and was now ignoring.

  Leaving the room via the French doors, he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The spring night was mild, the country scents pleasing. The walk around the spacious manor house served him well, giving him time to clear his expression by the time he reached the courtyard and Lisette.

  She had changed her gown for a dark blue that stood out less in the night—it was of a delicate gossamer material. A shawl with black beads was around her bare shoulders. Her hair flowed down, unconfined. Her hips were leaned against one of the non-flowing fountains.

  Elisha halted less than a foot in front of her, taking in her upturned face. Her lovely eyes were luminous from the cast of lamplight a bit away. Lifting his hand to cup under her jaw, Elisha dipped his head to kiss her. Any distance or control fled the moment their tongues moved sensually into each other’s mouths. The chemistry was electric and the hunger, mingled with emotions, almost overwhelming.

  She closed the distance between their bodies, her hands smoothing up his sides. When the kiss deepened, her fingers grasped the material of his shirt and the shawl slid to the stone courtyard.

  Breathing harshly, he lifted his head inches; lashes parting as hers did, revealing their hungers. Elisha moved his hand to her nape, under her hair; his other one cupped her side before it eased up to cup her breast. The thin material and low bodice hid nothing and only added to the erotic vision when he flickered his glance downward and saw the upper half of her breast shimmering ivory in that same light. The nipple was barely hidden beneath very little material.

  “Mmmm.” She uttered when his thumb brushed over her nipple.

  “Let’s move out of the light,” he suggested roughly, and stepped back to take her hand. He led her off the main courtyard, beyond some of the main garden until they stood in a small circular clearing.

  Lisette’s breathing grew shallow watching him lower her bodice. The backs of his warm fingers brushed her skin. When they were exposed, Elisha dipped his head, softly kissed, and by turns licked her nipples, making her dizzy and hungrier for him.

  Finding their differing heights a challenge, he lifted his head and looked around again before he led her to a half moon bench. He sat himself and had her stand before him. Lisette could watch his lips on her nipple unhindered now, as well as touch his face and hair as he aroused her to trembling.

  “Elisha.” She arched her neck, enjoying it almost too much.

  He eased up her hem, finding the uncovered flesh that apparently pleased him. His breathing was deeper, his eyes hotter when he looked at her. She was watching his face while he caressed her backside and hips. He finally eased his hand between her thighs.

  She was wet and hot. He smoothed his hand down her thigh, then lifted and braced her foot beside his hip, so the material of her skirts draped back in a ripple, and her ivory limb was exposed. Her stance gave him access. Lisette felt quite decadent having his fingers ease in and out of her sex. She heard her sounds of abandoned bliss when he held up the hem, leaned forward and down—kissing her th
ere.

  “Wait.” She panted, touching his head and waiting for him to lift and look at her.

  His tongue laved his lips, his eyes were heavy with pleasure too. Elisha did not free his finger from deep in her channel quickly, but thrust a few slow times before easing out.

  She leaned down and kissed him, erotic, loose and exposing the intense degree of hunger in her. Upon rising from the kiss, Lisette stepped back and motioned for him to stand. When he had, she undid the buttons and freed his shirt, getting a rumble of pleasure next from him as she laved his nipples and mapped the plains of his hard torso. Loving his flavor, his scent, the heat of his male flesh, she kissed every inch available both standing on her tip toes, and bending down, to flick her tongue in his navel.

  “Christ…Lisette.” Elisha breathed in a hot rush. His hands cupped her face.

  However, she would not let him have control back just yet. Taking his kiss, a hard and deep one, she worked the latches of his trousers. It took him a moment to realize what she was about.

  Elisha was going to sit again and bring her onto his lap. But Lisette sat instead, and peeked up at him. Her hand cupped the ridge of his thickly hard cock. She could read his mixture of desire and anxiety when she worked the material aside and her fingers touched the hot silken skin.

  It was a tense few seconds. His swarthy hand was unsteady when he moved hers away and exposed the thick shaft and plump head. Given his stance and her sitting position, it was obvious what was possible. And it was a carnal moment, and an erotic sight.

  She cupped it under the crown and brought her lips to it, kissing it softly and tender, aware of his trembling. Her tongue liked the tang and feel of ultra-soft skin, and her palm enjoyed feeling the breadth and shape, the warm pulse in the veins.

  Elisha’s hands cupped her head. She peeked up to see his neck was arched, the veins and sinew full. Lisette continued to kiss, lave, and attend it with the utmost pleasure. Her lips rimmed it and she sucked.

  He lowered his head and moved her off him.

  She met his gaze for a wild passionate moment. “Did I hurt you?”