by Darcy Burke
“No,” Sarah said with a laugh. “You know how I like to make my own hats from time to time.” At Lavinia’s nod, she went on. “I’ve been increasing my purse so that I may open my own millinery shop.”
Lavinia’s jaw dropped. “You’re going into trade?”
“Quieter, please,” Sarah whispered as she looked about to see if anyone had heard. It didn’t seem so. “I won’t work there, and the shop won’t have my name on it. Dolly from Marsden’s Millinery is going to manage the shop and will execute my designs.”
“So you won’t claim credit for them?” Sarah shook her head, and Lavinia frowned. “That’s a shame. An outrage, really.”
“It’s not about gaining accolades,” Sarah said. “It’s about securing my future. And doing something I love.” She smiled then, as she always did when she thought of building something of her very own.
“You will have the best millinery shop in the history of millinery shops,” Lavinia said, her eyes bright with pride.
“The drivers should prepare to begin,” Felix announced through the horn.
“It’s almost time,” Sarah said. “I’d better place my wager.” She dashed over to the table and blurted the first name that fell from her lips. As she made her way back to Lavinia, she prayed she’d made the right choice.
A moment later, Felix called for the start and clanged the bell. Dartford and Wakeham raced forward, their vehicles all but even as they dashed toward the first turn. Sarah’s heart pounded as both drivers took the curve as fast as they dared, faster than they’d seen in any race yet. Both phaetons tipped, and there was a collective gasp followed by exhalations of relief once the eight wheels of the vehicles were back on solid ground and racing toward the second curve.
Wakeham seemed to take this turn just a bit more cautiously, while Dartford pressed even faster. His phaeton teetered again, but he kept masterful control and then drove into the lead as they rounded toward the finish.
“Come on, Dartford!” someone yelled as Wakeham seemed to gain on him as they neared the end. But it was Dartford who finished first, and Sarah finally exhaled fully.
Lavinia laughed. “I take it you wagered on Dartford?”
“I did.” Sarah grinned, and they made their way—along with everyone else—toward the finish line.
As with yesterday, there was ale and wine and much revelry for some time. A pair of men hauled Dart up onto their shoulders and paraded him around to the cheers and adoration of everyone present. No one was prouder or more pleased than Lucy, however, as she gazed at her husband with glowing pride—and love.
Sarah caught sight of Felix a few feet away and went to congratulate him on a successful event. “You really will have to do this next year.”
“So I keep hearing. It was terribly fun, wasn’t it?” he asked with a smile. “Did you win again?”
“I did.”
“Did you ever lose?”
She shook her head.
“Perhaps you should join the married couples in the card room tonight,” he suggested wryly.
Sarah laughed. “Lavinia asked if she could join us instead.”
“Hmm, I’m thinking I should have come up with a game that involves gambling for kisses,” he said.
“Why, because I would win them all?”
“Exactly.” His eyes glinted with humor. “How is everything going today? I saw you with Mr. Lytton earlier. Is he in the hunt?”
She shrugged. “He smells nice.”
“That is your chief requirement?” He waved his hand. “I’m joking. I have a special game organized for tonight. Tell me who you most want to kiss—in private.”
Sarah blinked at him. “In private? How are you going to manage that?”
He gave her a devilish grin. “You’ll see. It’s a variation on Guess the Kisser.”
“It sounds rather daring. Will everyone want to play?”
Felix gave her a sardonic look. “You were there last night, weren’t you? I think this group is more than eager for a game like this.”
He was right. They were a rather audacious company, if last night was any indication.
“You need only tell me who you want to kiss, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Truly?” Her gaze found the athletic form of Viscount Blakesley.
“I see where you’re looking. Blakesley, then?”
She fought back a blush and answered before she could change her mind. “Yes.”
“Consider it done.”
“Who are you going to kiss?” she asked.
“No one. I have to oversee the game—and Anthony has offered to help me. The men outnumber the women by two, and we’ll need exact numbers for this game.”
“Well, Lavinia would be glad to help too. Anything to rescue her from the card room. She’s envious of our fun.”
“Then perhaps she should not have wed,” Felix said, waggling his brows. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind about marrying too.”
Change her mind… As if it were her decision. Her parents would ensure she wed, whether she fell in love or not.
Chapter 5
After a rousing game of charades and several hilarious rounds of the Toilette, most of the guests had accumulated a number of forfeits, which would need to be repaid at some point, typically after the games concluded.
Felix had earned only one forfeit during the Toilette. He’d taken the role of hairbrush and had failed to jump up fast enough when the acting Lady had requested his assistance. Others had fared far worse. Sir Rupert had at least five forfeits from both games.
Everyone seemed to be having a jolly time, and Felix was keen to unveil the game he’d concocted to ensure Sarah would kiss Viscount Blakesley. The former sat on the settee beside Lavinia, their heads bent together as they whispered. The latter stood near a corner with two other gentlemen, glasses of whisky dangling from their fingertips.
Felix softly rang a bell to gain everyone’s attention. “And now for the premier game of the evening, a new version of Guess the Kisser.”
“The Ware Version!” Mr. Walter Pratt called out, generating laughter and agreement.
Felix bowed. “If you want to call it that. In this version, we will have the same number of gentlemen and ladies. For that reason, I and Mr. Colton will be excused.” He looked toward Anthony, who stood nearby with Beck, who, along with his wife, had preferred to join their entertainments this evening, save any kissing games.
“That’s a shame,” Mrs. Alnwick said, eyeing Felix. She was the only widow among them and the younger sister of Lady Exeby. She’d been flirting with Felix all night, and he was beginning to consider meeting her for an assignation later.
However, he didn’t react or respond to her comment before launching into the explanation of the game. “There are nine young ladies and nine gentlemen. Dartford’s footman and I will distribute a slip of folded parchment to each of you who are playing. On that parchment is a number. There are two of each number—one for a lady and one for a gentleman.”
“What are the numbers for?” Lord Crawford asked, slurring. Thankfully, he was not drinking whisky like Blakesley and his companions.
“The numbers will tell you which room to go to. My staff will direct you if necessary. Everyone must keep their numbers secret. The gentlemen will go to their rooms where they will be blindfolded and wait in total darkness for their lady to arrive. The ladies will then find the room with their number and step inside. Once the door closes, the couple will have one minute to kiss—or not. A bell will ring to indicate the minute is over, and the ladies will depart. The gentlemen will wait until one of my staff fetches them to return here, where the players will attempt to guess their kisser. If they are correct, they win! If they are incorrect, they will earn a forfeit.”
“Oh, this is delightful!” Miss Reynolds said.
“Scandalous,” Fielding murmured. “And utterly captivating.” He grinned, and those around him chuckled.
“The game will be far more entertaining
if you don’t cheat—gentlemen, keep your blindfolds on, and ladies, don’t try to discern the gentlemen in the dark. You must base your guesses on the kiss alone. And try not to speak. If you must, disguise your voice.” He looked around at the assembly. “Are there any questions?”
“What if one minute isn’t long enough?” Blakesley asked, eliciting a few titters around the drawing room.
“If you take too long, I’ll have the staff interrupt you,” Felix said. He hadn’t given them that instruction, but he would. “Let us begin.” He went to Gerald, who held two trays, one of which he handed to Felix. Felix exchanged a look with the footman, who’d been instructed to give the parchment with the rumpled corner—number nine—to Blakesley. Felix would ensure Sarah got the same number. Everyone else’s numbers would be random.
Felix began to distribute the numbers to the ladies, careful to save the one with the rumpled corner for Sarah.
When he reached Mrs. Alnwick, who was seated in a wingback chair, she gave him a catlike smile. “I thought of a question after all. Are all the rooms nearby, or are some upstairs?” Since the bedchambers were upstairs, she seemed to be asking if any of the rooms contained beds.
“They are all nearby—a couple are closets used by the staff,” he said, handing her the paper.
“How…close.” She seemed to purr the words as she opened the paper. “Oh, look, number two,” she whispered.
“You’re supposed to keep it secret,” Felix said, amused at her brazenness.
“And I will. From everyone else.” Her lashes fluttered, and her lips curved coyly before he moved on.
“What a deliciously inappropriate game, Felix,” Lavinia said as he arrived at the settee she shared with Sarah.
Felix handed the parchment with the rumpled edge to Sarah with a purposeful look. Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced, ever so briefly, toward Blakesley. Felix allowed his lip to twitch up the barest bit. “Should I have allotted a room for you and Beck?” he asked Lavinia, smiling.
She laughed. “We have one, thank you.”
Felix handed out the last slip of parchment and turned to address the room. “Gentlemen, please step out, and the staff will show you to your rooms and blindfold you.”
The men shot eager glances toward the ladies before leaving, some of them smoothing their hair or straightening their cravats. The ladies gathered at one end of the room and chattered excitedly about the game.
“How will we ever know?” one of them asked.
“Scent,” Sarah said.
“My lord?” Gerald interrupted Felix’s eavesdropping.
Felix turned. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes. If you’d come with me?”
Felix followed him out, pausing near Anthony on the way. “I need to see to a problem. Keep the ladies in here for now.”
Anthony nodded.
Outside the drawing room, Gerald informed Felix that Crawford had become ill and could no longer take his place in room five.
Felix frowned. “That leaves us one short. I’ll just take his place,” he said. “I know where it is.”
Room five was the smallest, barely more than a closet next to the library. He greeted the footman assigned to the closet before going in. Once inside, the footman blindfolded him. “All right, my lord?”
“Fine, thank you,” Felix said. Then he was plunged into darkness, and he waited. Who would it be? It wouldn’t be Sarah, of course. Or Mrs. Alnwick. She’d said she had number two. That left one of the Misses Conwyn or Christie, Miss Reynolds, Miss Saunders, or Tyrrell’s daughter, Miss Smithson. None of them were particularly remarkable in Felix’s mind, though the elder Miss Conwyn was very attractive, if quiet.
It was several minutes before he heard murmured voices and then a light knock followed by the opening of the door. Experienced as he was, his heart picked up speed. This was a rather scandalous game, he realized. When he’d thought of it, he hadn’t imagined playing it himself. He’d thought he’d be the organizer and nothing more. Now he found himself basking in the thrill of secrecy.
Another body joined him in the small space, and the door clicked shut. He recalled what Sarah had said about scent and inhaled deeply. He didn’t smell anything.
He felt the brush of skirt against his leg, and then he smelled her—the faint scent of roses, which he could attribute to many women.
She moved, and her hand brushed the front of his pantaloons. His cock jumped at the sensation. They only had one minute, so he might as well make it good.
He felt for her, finding her waist and sliding his arms around her to pull her flush to his chest.
Her soft gasp filled the small space. He moved one hand up her spine and felt her shiver. He searched for—and found—her nape, then cradled her neck to establish where she was. Brushing his thumb over her cheek, he tipped her head to the side and pressed his lips to hers.
He meant it to be a gentle, sweet kiss, but it seemed his partner had other ideas. She splayed one hand against his collarbone and curled the other around his neck, pulling at him as her lips moved over his. And then her tongue slid into his mouth.
His body, already succumbing to arousal, came instantly alive. Rational thought tried to intrude and caution him to go slow or, better yet, stop, but he had one minute to kiss this sweet mouth, and he was going to take it.
He cupped her nape and bent her back slightly as he met her inquiring tongue. She hesitated, but only briefly, before she opened herself to him completely. She pressed against him from breast to groin, and his cock hardened. This was not what he’d intended with this game. He hadn’t meant to participate at all, and here he was, eagerly locked in an embrace with what amounted to a stranger.
But, God, it was divine. Her fingers curled into his coat, and she grasped his lapel in her fist while her other hand moved up his neck into the base of his scalp, her fingertips massaging his flesh and tangling in his hair. He held her tight against him, relishing the feel of her body perfectly matched to his. Her breasts were full, her waist slender. He moved his hand lower and felt the curve of her hip and behind. At his touch, she twitched, pressing farther into him.
Lost in her embrace, he drove his tongue into her mouth, kissing her more deeply than he’d ever dreamed he might. This was supposed to be a charming, slightly scandalous endeavor, but this was something far more. This was heat and desire and erotic promise.
The sound of a bell broke into his lustful haze. With great reluctance, he pulled his head up from hers, taking in a deep breath. But he didn’t let go, and neither did she.
She dug her fingers into his nape, urging him back down. He barely needed her to ask. Angling his head the other way, he kissed her from a new direction, eager to taste her any and every way he could. It was never going to be enough, but it was all they had.
She met his kiss, their tongues tangling as their hands moved over each other. She put both hands on the sides of his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt, and caressed him with her warm fingers.
He massaged her hip, pulling her against him so that she had to feel his erection. He shouldn’t do it, but she moaned into his mouth, and he was absolutely beyond himself. Desperate to make this moment last, he brought his hand up and grazed his thumb along the underside of her breast. She quivered, and her fingers dug into his flesh.
A loud knock on the door interrupted them once more.
“Time to finish,” the muffled voice called through the door.
Felix tore his mouth from hers and forced himself back against the wall behind him. “Go,” he grunted, his body aflame.
The door opened, and all the heat in the space seemed to leave with her. Realizing he was out of breath from kissing her, Felix fought to regain control of his body, taking deep breaths to slow his heart and hopefully calm his raging cock.
Bloody hell, that had been far more than he’d bargained for. He whipped the blindfold from his face and cursed the damn thing for adding to his incredible arousal.
; Once Felix had himself under control, he exited the closet and handed the blindfold to the footman without a word. He strode back to the drawing room and was a bit surprised to see he was nearly the last one back. Only Blakesley came in behind him.
The ladies were all seated while the men stood. Everyone looked about the room in an almost comically surreptitious manner as they tried to determine whom they’d kissed. Felix did the same but had absolutely no idea.
“Now—” Felix sounded as if he’d ridden through the cold, his voice low and raspy. He gently cleared his throat. “Now, I’ll go around and ask you to guess your kisser. You do not have to guess the person who guessed you—not unless you think they’re right.”
“It’s important to note at this point that Crawford took ill, and Ware had to take his place,” Anthony said.
“So one of us kissed Ware?” Mrs. Alnwick asked a bit breathlessly.
Anthony nodded. “Yes.”
Mrs. Alnwick smiled broadly, and Felix knew she was going to guess him. She would, of course, be wrong.
“Lady Northam, would you mind continuing to record the forfeits?” Felix asked.
Lavinia smiled and nodded. “Certainly.” She went to the table that had been moved to the corner and sat down. She’d written down the names of those who had earned forfeits and marked their subsequent penalties. “Ready whenever you are.”
“Remember, everyone, the punishments will be assigned after we reveal the kissers and see who was incorrect.”
“What will the forfeits be?” Miss Saunders asked.
“A variety,” Felix said. “Those earning penalties will draw from a bowl. There is Living Statues, I believe, as well as Quartet and The Dumb Orator.”
Fielding laughed. “Splendid.”
Ready to get on with things, mostly because he was anxious to learn his kisser, Felix started at the left side of the room and called the first person. “Mr. Sherington, guess your kisser.”
Sherington scrutinized each lady, even moving toward a few to study them more closely, before finally saying, “Miss Elinor Conwyn.” That was the younger Miss Conwyn.
