by Nancy Wells
“Do you know who the guest is?” she asked.
“A duchess, my lady. She lives nearby.”
She silently groaned, already suspecting the bitter outcome of meeting with an old duchess who had come to make fun of her. She did not have enough dowry nor a title to attract suitors, but if she had had a friend with a title who had introduced her to society on her first ball, her situation might have turned out differently. She would not have become the target of mockery for a duchess who was probably bored with her life and she seemed like a ripe fruit for plucking to her.
She was practically dragging her feet behind her when she came out of her room. She descended the stairs with as much grace as she could muster and curtsied before the guests without looking up. She had no desire to see judgmental stares of strangers.
“Your Grace, this is my daughter, Isabella,” her mother said. “She is my eldest daughter.”
“Your Grace,” she curtsied again, her eyes still downcast.
“Your daughter does not seem happy to meet us, madam,” a child said.
She flinched, preparing herself for further such comments. She had no interest to look up and count the number of mouths that were waiting to make snide remarks about her. The old woman had probably brought her grandkids to prolong her mockery.
“She is nervous to meet strangers, Willy,” a young female voice said. “There is nothing wrong with that.”
She looked up at the lady who had spoken. She was a young girl with the kindest smile on her face. She was not what she had expected. Her neckline was plunging which put her ample breasts on display for everyone. The way she was sitting comfortably on the sofa meant she was not wearing any hooped petticoats either. She was a duchess, yet there was no sign of pride and disdain on her face. She seemed like a down to earth kind of person.
“I am honored to meet you, Your Grace,” she said sincerely. “I would like more than anything else in the world to spend time in your company.”
She sat with the guests for a long time, listening to the tales of a child named Willy. Apparently, Willy was once a street urchin, but now he was a ward of a duke. She could tell from his words that he was still in the process of learning the proper language. Every now and then, he would use a colorful word and then quickly apologize for it. Whoever the child was, he was close to the duchess because he addressed her by her maiden name but was not reprimanded for it. They seemed to be interesting people.
They stayed for a long time on her mother’s insistence and left after sharing a lunch with them. The duchess had succeeded in making her feel comfortable around her. She sincerely liked this woman.
Chapter 3
Isabella had believed that he would visit her in the night, but he never came that night nor the few nights after that. It had been four days, yet there was no sign of him. She had kept her window open, hummed the same melody again and again, to no avail. They had separated on friendly terms so why would he leave her like that?
“Why have you hummed the same tune for the past two hours?”
She was unaware of her sister’s presence in her room. She was wallowing in her own miseries, unaware of the rest of the world.
She looked towards the doorway where her sister was standing with her hands on her hips, staring at her suspiciously. She was not sure whether she wanted her sister’s company or not. Margaret had been her confidant for as long as she could remember, but at the moment, she was not prepared to tell her sister that a man was the reason for her sorrow. He had promised to come again, but so far, he had not followed through on his words.
“I like the tune,” she lied. “There is nothing wrong with humming a tune you favor.”
Her words sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. She was not a good liar. She knew she was not fooling her sister.
“You like the tune, yet you look like someone has stolen your treasure,” Margaret huffed.
She did not appreciate Margaret’s choice of words. She was already miserable about the disappearance of her secret admirer and her sister’s words were acting like salt to an open wound.
“Enough about the pirates, Margaret,” she said defensively. “Can we talk about anything else?”
She averted her gaze when Margaret raised her brow. She realized her mistake too late. Her sister had used the word treasure and she had impulsively reacted without thinking twice. Her sister would not stop until the truth was dragged out of her mouth.
“I never mentioned your pirate,” Margaret said.
Once again, her sister had managed to outwit her. No matter how many times she tried to put her defenses up when her sister was around, her sister had managed to break those defenses with the battering ram of her wit.
“I am busy, Margaret. Leave me alone.”
She pretended to act busy by rearranging her things on the dresser. Nothing was out of place, but she needed an excuse to get rid of her sister. She had no desire to speak about him to anyone. No one would understand her feelings for him.
“Wait a moment… are you still pining for your imaginary suitor?”
She whirled around, facing her sister. She could not believe her sister accused her of being delusional. He was real. She had not imagined him. When she had shared her magical night with her sister, she had hoped that Margaret would believe her, but it would seem she was mistaken.
“He is as real as you and me,” she said defensively.
She wanted to tell her sister that he had visited her chamber. He was not an illusion. He was real. She had felt his touch on her lips. She could still feel his warm lips on her mouth whenever she closed her eyes.
“Grow up, Bella. The only man who is interested in you is an old man. Your mind is conjuring up imaginary men to console your wounded pride. I came here to inform you that your real and only suitor has requested to meet you. Mother wants you to dress properly and wait for him in the gardens. Apparently, he feels suffocated in the confines of the house.”
She lost the will to share about his visit to her chamber with her sister. She slumped down on a nearby ottoman, hid her face in her palms and sobbed. She felt defeated. Her sister’s words had wounded her deeply. She felt as if someone had stabbed her in the gut and then twisted the knife for good measure.
Margaret closed the door and came near her. She flinched when her sister touched her on her shoulder. She did not need anyone’s sympathy.
“Get out of my room,” she yelled. “You are a despicable person.”
Margaret jumped back, astonished at her outburst. Isabella did not care about the moisture gathering in her sister’s eyes. She did not stop her sister when she ran away from her room in tears. She needed an outlet for her outburst and Margaret seemed like an easy target.
She did not move from her place for a long while. When the maid came to assist her in dressing, her mind was wandering someplace else. She did not care for the choice of dress. Her mother must have already dictated everything to the maid. She had no desire to see her face in the mirror when the maid was done with her hair.
She moved like an automaton from her room to the garden. She did not stop to observe anything about her surroundings. A chaperone should be present when she met with a suitor, but there was no one in the garden. Apparently, her mother was making up to Lord Harley for her rude behavior. She had refused to engage him in conversation and had not bothered with a formal dress. Her mother feared that he would never return if she misbehaved again. After all, as her sister had pointed out, he was her only suitor.
“I missed your voice these past days.”
She looked around when she heard Russell’s voice, but he was nowhere in sight. Maybe her sister was right to think that she had become delusional. He was not here. It was only her mind that was tricking her into believing that he was present. She did not wish to meet Lord Harley and that was why her mind was conjuring him. He had been absent for the past few days. It was highly unlikely that he would just appear out of nowhere.
“You shoul
d wear this color more often. You look positively radiant in burgundy.”
Russell had intended to visit her a few days ago, but he never got the chance. The moment he had escorted Emily to the house, Shane had informed him that their superiors had requested their presence. They were sent to a distant place to investigate the involvement of the man they were pursuing in a drug ring.
They had visited a number of opium dens and brothels in pursuit of the criminal. The criminal had vanished before they could apprehend him, but they did find some incriminating facts that tied him to illegal supply of weapons and harmful drugs in London. They had traced him back to London. It was a convenient surprise for him that the man he was investigating was in the same city as the woman he was currently pursuing.
“Where are you?” she asked, getting frustrated.
Russell was perched on a branch of a tree above her. She was searching for him but could not find him. Normally, he would have made her wait some more before coming down from the tree, but he was desperate to touch her again. He was not the kind of person to chase a woman, yet he was smitten with this one. He felt a connection to her on a deeper level.
He jumped from his spot and kneeled on one knee before her. She shrieked in fright when he appeared out of nowhere before her. One moment he was only a voice and then in the next instant, he jumped from the skies.
“Hush,” he chided. “You will alert everyone to my presence.”
It took her a moment to realize that he had not jumped from the skies but rather from the tree. She could not believe that he had dodged all the servants and entered their estate unnoticed.
“How can you be skilled at so much stealth?” she asked.
He dusted his coat and stood straight. He pushed her against the tree without responding to her question. She forgot about everything else when he pinned her hands above her head and kissed her passionately on her lips. His lips were bruising her, but she did not care. She liked him being so dominant and in charge.
“God, you are amazing,” he said, looking into her eyes.
Her hair was auburn like any other woman, but somehow hers felt different to him. The small freckles on her nose that would normally seem like a flaw in any other woman were adding to her beauty. Every small detail about her that others might consider imperfections were precious to him. He liked the small freckles, the button nose, and her small mouth. Her lips were not like the full and pouty lips of the courtesans he had known in the past, yet he was craving the taste of her lips again and again. One kiss was not enough for him.
“I missed you,” she said. “I sang the same melody, but you never came.”
She had tried to forget about him but had failed miserably. She knew nothing good would come out of their secret affair, yet her heart was yearning for him. She was a responsible daughter whose main concern had always been reducing the burden on her mother’s shoulders, but ever since he came into her life, she had forgotten about all her responsibilities. He was not a gentleman who was courting her for marriage, yet she wanted to spend every waking hour in his company. He never bothered to ask her name, yet she wanted to share everything with him.
“That was rude of me,” he chuckled. “You should chide me for being ignorant.”
He was being evasive. He was ignoring her real query by wrapping his answer in a veil of humor. He was hiding things from her and she was aware of that. She knew he was distracting her by kissing the hollow of her neck, but she could not stop him. She knew he was playing her, yet his technique was working nonetheless.
“My sister thinks I am being delusional,” she said, breathing hard. “She said my pride is hurt and I am conjuring a man from my imagination.”
He bit her earlobe and she felt a shock coursing through her body, which centered at the juncture between her legs. She was panting, arching her back and making strange noises that should never be heard from the lips of a proper lady, but did not care about decorum when he was near her. She wanted to take him to her bed and let him take liberties with her body without the fear of being discovered in public. She wanted to lose everything to him even if he had no intention of marrying her.
“Do my lips feel imaginary to you, my Siren?” he whispered and caught her earlobe between his teeth, making her gasp. “You should tell your meddling sister about the things I make you feel.”
He did not feel imaginary or like a ghost at the moment. The warmth of his lips could not be mistaken for an illusion. She should feel ashamed, with her hands pinned above her head by a complete stranger who was nibbling at her lobes, but she had lost control of herself. Her body had a mind of its own. Her body had become a slave to his commanding presence.
Her eyes shot open when she heard someone calling her name. She had forgotten about Lord Harley. She could be caught red-handed at any moment by none other than the man who was hoping to take her as his wife. She should concentrate on the gentleman who was aiming to make a respectable woman of her, but her heart throbbed for the hellion who was smirking down at her. Her reputation was at stake and he was feeling smug about it.
“You have to hide,” she pleaded. “If someone discovered us, my mother would murder me.”
“Send him away,” he said assertively. “I am not finished with you yet.”
She heard the sound of twigs snapping nearby and her heart stopped beating. Russell might be skilled at vanishing through open windows, but there was nowhere for him to hide now. She was getting frantic with worry. If her reputation were sullied, it would affect her sister too. No one would allow them in genteel society ever again. She could not ruin her sister’s future.
“Please,” she begged. “I cannot do this.”
He had no intention of being discovered like this. He could climb the tree in a few seconds, but there was no fun in it. His devious mind thought of another plan that would keep him out of sight but would be a fond memory to recall.
“I can save you from being discovered, but you have to trust me. You will do as I ask, and no one will see me with you.”
She nodded her head frantically. She would do anything he asked, as long as he remained hidden. She did not question his reasons when he pulled her towards the rose bushes and silently asked her to bend a little and pretend to pluck a flower. She should not have believed the man. She should have known that the rogue would do something as bold as to hide under her skirts.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
She was about to straighten up and kick him out from under her skirts, but at that precise moment, Lord Harley saw her. If she broke her pose, she would be discovered with a man hiding under her skirts. It was only a skirt, not a tent that could hide a grown man. If Lord Harley stepped around the shrubs, he would see the outline of a man hiding under her skirts.
“There you are,” Lord Harley said. “If I knew any better, I would have assumed that you were trying to avoid me, Lady Isabella.”
She felt bad for making a fool out of him. She had been avoiding him like a plague, chasing an impossible dream. He was right about her. She was trying to hide from him. She had forgotten about the main reason for her visit to the garden when she had seen Russell. Even if Lord Harley was slightly old or overweight, he did not deserve to be mocked by her. He had never made fun of her for being rejected by society while she had laughed behind his back, mocking him for being overweight and having pain in the knees.
“My lord, how do you fare this fine evening?” she asked, then squeaked when she felt warm lips grazing the back of her ankle. “Forgive me, I meant, how do you do?”
Russell was having fun while making her uncomfortable before the man who was courting her. He had no issue with the man, but he was feeling territorial when it came to her.
He squeezed her bottom with both hands and nibbled playfully at her globes. She yelped and kicked him under her skirts when he pinched her bottom. Instead of leaving her in peace, he pulled her globes apart and blew on her cunny. Her knees buckled, but he kept her in place. She w
as standing only with his support because her own body had become boneless when he flicked her cunny with his tongue.
“Are you feeling well, my lady?”
She was not feeling well. The hellion under her skirts was hell-bent on being discovered. She doubted she could stay immobile if he did not stop licking her nether regions.
“Oh, God. No, I mean, yes. I am fine.” Her words faltered when she felt his teeth grazing the channel of her womanly folds.
Russell trailed his tongue lazily through her channel while she buckled. Her breath had shortened. He grinned, imagining her expressions. She would be trying so hard to keep her face neutral, but he had other things on his mind. He wanted her to lose her proper manners in public. He had a mind to pleasure her this very instant. She could not send the old man away and neither could she expose his presence under her skirts, which meant she was helpless at this moment. She was completely at his mercy.
“I am not sure you are feeling well. Let me escort you back inside.”
“No!” she said sharply when she saw him coming around the shrubs.
Lord Harley stopped in his tracks at her outburst and looked at her strangely. She should feel guilty for letting the old man believe that she was not feeling well, but rational thoughts had flown out the window the moment Russell touched her.
“I should probably send for a maid to assist you. You are not feeling well.”
She closed her eyes tightly shut when she felt him licking at her folds with ferocity. The slit in her drawers was proving to be awfully convenient for him. Her folds were getting swollen as he increased the fierceness of his licks and she started to lose the battle. She was trying to hold back the pleasure that was threatening to weaken her knees, but she was not strong enough against his skillful mouth.
