Turning his head and looking down at her, he said with mild amusement, ‘You’re putting the horse before the cart, Lucy. Before I consider any offspring, I have to find myself a wife.’
‘Of course you do,’ she said, a puckish smile touching her lips. ‘Why not marry one of your mistresses?’
Christopher stifled a grin at the complete absence of guile on her lovely, upturned face. ‘Gentlemen do not marry their mistresses, Lucy.’
‘Why—I cannot for the life of me see why not. If a man considers a woman suitable to take to his bed, why not marry her?’ She laughed outright when he looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears, staring at her in amused amazement.
‘Forgive me if I decline to answer your question, young lady. I think we will drop the subject.’
‘Oh, dear,’ she retorted, continuing to smile. ‘In which case I am beginning to think you are a lost cause.’
Thinking she was quite incorrigible, Christopher relaxed and smiled down her, a teasing light in his eyes as he turned the tables on her. ‘Why, what is this, Lucy? Are you offering by any chance?’ She was really only an American miss with no more knowledge of the world and of men than a schoolgirl.
Completely flustered by his question, Lucy laughed nervously. ‘Why—I—of course not.’ She studied him intently, her eyes alight with curiosity and caution, and the dawning of understanding. ‘If you weren’t the Duke of Rockwood in waiting, I would say that in other words you are married to your ship.’
He grinned. ‘And I would say you are quite right. I’ve spent many days and nights alone at sea, with just my crew for company, and it was a sad day when I had to let it go. What would you like to do with the rest of your life, Lucy, if you were not awaiting your godmother to come and whisk you away to goodness knows where?’
‘What can a woman do with her life? Men can do whatever they want, but if women are not wives, if they are without means, then what are their hopes? Domestic service is the only thing open to them.’
‘You’re quite wrong there, Lucy. A clever woman can do almost anything she likes. Women as well as men can be as free as they choose to be.’
‘In an ideal world, perhaps, but this is not an ideal world.’
‘Sadly, no, but you do not have to worry about that. I imagine your inheritance is quite substantial.’
‘Yes, I imagine it will be. I find it hard to forgive what Sofia did to me—and Mr Barrington. The easing of the fear that has held me since Mr Barrington’s attack has lessened, but it has not gone away.’
‘He cannot reach you here, Lucy.’
‘I know. He has no claim on me now. I intend to put it behind me and get on with my life, but I can’t run from it.’
Christopher noted the anxiety in her eyes which told him she was more worried than she had led him to believe. A cold chill spread through his body. She looked so young and fragile. Tilting her chin up to his face, he looked down at her with gravity.
‘I cannot blame you for being fearful, Lucy. It is not irrational, but it can be overcome if you try. You cannot keep looking over your shoulder.’
‘No, but I won’t always have you to protect me.’ She spoke quietly, with feeling.
His finger was still beneath her chin, her eyes large and luminous as they held his.
‘You will soon have your godmother’s protection, but until then you have me.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed, moving closer to him, turning her face up to his, her lips moist and partly open.
Unable to resist doing so, Christopher’s mouth settled on hers. Her lips opened like a flower beneath his own, her warm, sweet breath entering his mouth. He kissed her tenderly, but then his senses started to flee and his breathing quickened and he deepened his kiss. Dear Lord, what was he doing? Kissing her and loving it. It had to stop.
With great effort he released her lips. Her eyes were half closed, slumberous, her lips moist and full. It would be so easy to take advantage of her, here in this summer house, to lay her down and make love to her. But he couldn’t—it would make him no better that Barrington. On that thought he took her hand and kissed it.
‘Come, we’d better get back to the house. It will soon be lunch time and Grandfather is a stickler for punctuality.’
They walked together, neither of them having much to say after their kiss, but Christopher was very much aware of her presence, very much aware that the kiss had brought about a subtle change in their relationship. Because she was not the kind of sophisticated, worldly woman he usually made love to it made her more alluring, more desirable. She was nothing like the glamorous, experienced women who knew how to please him, women who were mercenary and hellbent on self-gratification, whose beds he sought only to leave the moment his ardour was spent. Lucy was not yet awakened to the ways of men.
He recognised something in her expression, something joyous, yet reverent. Her gaze was warm and gentle, at the same time vivid and urgent. Her feelings shone luminously from her smiling face, and her mouth moved and lifted in its desire to be about something of which she was scarcely aware of. But Christopher knew and his heart lurched with the pain of it. He began to question his feelings for her, to take them apart and weigh them. He liked being with her, enjoying her immense enjoyment of every single moment of the time they spent together. She was fresh and alive and he was amazed by the gracious ease with which she conducted herself with ease with Amelia and the way she had effortlessly charmed his grandfather. Despite her youth, there was a natural sophistication about her that came from a lively wit and an active mind.
He was beginning to discover the whole tenor of his life was changing with his new status and with Lucy in it. Vivid beauty was moulded into every aspect of her face and there was something deep within her that made her glow like a flawless gem. Constant awareness of her presence kept him in a perpetual state of delightful confusion and he caught himself up short. Now was not the time for him to indulge in youthful dreams. It could not continue. The time had come for him to put some distance between the two of them, but how to do it without hurting her?
Chapter Seven
Lucy was in a state of enchantment, lost in the blissful and blessed state into which Christopher had cast her when he had kissed her in the garden. Nothing could steal the joy, the silent glow of rapture, which had been with her ever since. He was responsible for putting the roses in her cheeks and the stars in her eyes. Though Christopher had not yet said the words, it would lead, she knew, to the fulfilment of every thought and dream she had had of him since they had met. She could hardly believe that a worldly and sophisticated man should see qualities in her he found admirable. He enchanted her to the point where she could not think of anything else and she waited with fast-beating heart and anticipation for the day when he would tell her he felt the same.
He had come as close to admitting that he cared for her as he dared without putting himself in a position where she might expect him to make a choice. But she wanted him, all of him, and she could not believe her good fortune that he should find her worthwhile, for was that not a sign of his respect? He had taken no further liberties with her other than the kiss, which was right and proper with a woman he intended, surely, to marry. He had talked of her going away when her godmother came, but she didn’t want to go, not now, not ever. She must convince him how much he meant to her. She would use all her wiles and tactics to keep him.
Climbing out of bed and loosely slipping her robe over her nightdress, she left her room, flitting along the corridors like a sprite until she came to Christopher’s door. Casting a surreptitious glance along the corridor to make sure no one was observing her, then taking a deep breath, she swallowed her reserve and her pride, and with an unsteady hand she knocked gently on the door.
It was opened almost immediately. ‘What is it...?’ Attired in breeches, his shirt open to the waist, Christopher stopped abruptly, arrested in
midsentence. ‘Sweet heaven! Lucy! What are you doing here?’ He breathed the words as he stood there, staring at her.
‘I—I wanted to see you.’
For the space of half a dozen heartbeats, he didn’t move. Then slowly he stood aside and allowed her to pass through before closing the door and propping his shoulder against the door frame, as if he needed the support. It was a long moment before he slowly let out his breath. ‘I suppose,’ he said softly, ‘you’re going to tell me what this is all about.’
Lucy returned his gaze, wide-eyed and uncertain. This was going to be much harder than she had expected. ‘I—I have come to keep you company.’ She could feel herself flushing. ‘When you said you were too much alone when you were on your ship with just your crew for company, I thought you might be in need of some—female company.’
Christopher took a moment to digest her words, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Let me see if I’ve got this right. You are here to provide me with your company—for how long?’
His bold scrutiny caused Lucy’s modesty to chafe. With her heart thumping in her breast and fighting to quell her rising panic because she knew she’d made a gross mistake in coming to his room, her colour deepened, but she was committed now. She could not retreat. ‘Why—as—as long as you like.’
‘And how do you propose we pass the time?’
‘I don’t know. I was hoping you would tell me.’ She bit her lip in consternation. She was making a terrible mess of this and Christopher wasn’t helping her. Her gaze went past him to a dresser across the room, on which stood a decanter of what she presumed was brandy and an empty glass. ‘Perhaps you would let me pour you a brandy.’ She went to the dresser. She could feel his eyes following her. When she had poured him a full measure of the brandy, she carried the glass to him.
He accepted her offering silently and raised it to his lips, drinking deep and watching her all the while.
‘Will you not join me? It’s impolite to let a man drink alone.’
‘No—thank you. I don’t like brandy.’
‘But I insist.’
Uncertain what to do next, Lucy looked up at hm, searching his features. There was a strange light in his eyes. It was not amusement she saw, nor was it anger. It was a coldness, she thought, and she wondered why.
Ignoring her remark that she disliked brandy, he held the glass to her lips and murmured, ‘Now it is your turn.’
She stubbornly took a quick sip of the brandy, realising he had expected her to refuse. The potent liquor burned a fiery trail all the way down to her stomach. Stepping away from him she shuddered, partly because of the unaccustomed spirits, mostly because of Christopher’s nearness.
* * *
Incredulous, Christopher continued to stare at her. She was oblivious to the sight she presented to him. The pure, sweet bliss of having her close spurred his heart. She was too damned lovely to be true. Her cheeks were a delectable pink and her hair formed a torrent of dark silk tresses, with adorable tendrils clinging and curling around her face. The very sight of her here in his rooms wrenched his vitals in a painful knot and the urge to pull her into his arms savaged his restraint. If she knew the full force of that emotion he held in check, she would tremble and seek the sanctuary of her room.
He lowered his gaze to her mouth, watching as she ran the tip of her tongue over her moist, parted lips. Lust hit him with such unexpected force that he could not move. He tried to say something, anything, but he made the mistake of looking down. She was wearing nothing but her flimsy nightdress beneath her open robe, her body visible beneath the fine fabric. She seemed blissfully unaware of the view he had of her, the delicate curve of her breasts, the slenderness of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips.
He tore his gaze away from her body and looked at her face as he strove to regain control. Normally he would deny himself nothing he could take without hurting others, but that was not the case with Lucy. A stolen kiss was harmless, but he was not fool enough to interfere with the innocent and inexperienced body of a girl he had befriended and protected from the moment she had turned to him for help.
‘You little fool,’ Christopher said furiously, seeking refuge in anger to quell his burgeoning thoughts. ‘Suppose someone other than me had opened the door—what do you think would happen?’
‘I don’t know. I never thought...’ she answered, trying to brazen it out. ‘I suppose they would ask me to leave.’
Christopher’s eyes dropped once more to her semi-clad body, following the line of her throat down to her tantalising swell of flesh exposed to his view above her chemise, emphasising the undeniable fact that she was an alluring young woman and not the child he had tried to convince himself she was.
‘I doubt very much they would do that.’ Shrugging himself away from the door, he moved to stand in front of her. ‘I will show you what would happen,’ he snapped, pulling her toward him none too gently. ‘But first I’d like to know how brandy tastes on your lips. Would you like me to kiss you, Lucy? You did not seem to mind earlier,’ he breathed, pushing the hair back from her face.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘I—I would like you to.’
He bent his head, yet to Lucy’s surprise he didn’t kiss her right away. His mouth hovered just above hers, heating her lips, caressing them with his breath and the heady fumes of brandy. His gaze dropped to her breasts straining beneath her nightdress, scrutinising them intently as he slowly curved his fingers around the tender flesh swelling out of the bodice. He felt her entire body tense. The tips of her breasts hardened under his warm fingers and, as much as he wanted to continue touching her there, he moved his hands away and drew her into his arms, his lips finding hers, parting them in a deep, languorous kiss.
‘You’re very lovely, Lucy,’ he murmured as his hands boldly caressed her back, one settling in her nape to press her head close to his, capturing her lips once more, his mouth hard, his tongue plundering the softness of her mouth. As if sensing something was wrong, Lucy squirmed against him, trying to drag her mouth away from his and break free. Her struggle only seemed to make his arms tighten about her and he deepened the kiss, his lips moving on hers with hungry ardour, insistently shaping her lips to his own. At last he released her and thrust her away. She staggered back.
‘Why did you do that?’ she asked, her eyes wide and bewildered. ‘I suppose it was my fault for coming to your room.’
‘When a woman comes to a man’s bedroom at this time of night, scantily clad, it can mean only one thing. You should not be here.’
‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘But...’
‘Don’t say anything else, Lucy.’ His voice was soft, but the stern note of authority underlying it brought the silence he had requested. His eyes continued to study her and when he spoke again his voice was gentler. ‘It was a mistake for you to come here, I grant you. This one was mine. Next time you decide to visit a gentleman in his rooms, you must consider the consequences. Consider yourself fortunate that I am not in the habit of seducing naive innocents.’
Lucy stood unmoving. Christopher’s silver eyes were narrowed on her body, reflecting the glint of the candlelight. ‘I—I don’t know what to do,’ she said in a small voice, feeling undressed, naked, even, though she was partially clad.
‘Don’t you? Then let me tell you,’ he said, taking the hanging ties of her robe and drawing it tightly about her delectably body and concealing those delicious breasts from his line of vision. His desire for her was hard driven, but he couldn’t overstep the mark. ‘You will return to your room and we will forget this ever happened. Do you understand, Lucy?’
She nodded. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’ She clung on to her dignity as she backed away, her hair spilling over her shoulders. ‘You are right. I shouldn’t have come, I know that now,’ she whispered, her voice shaking with her emotions as she tried to maintain her self-control. ‘Please don’t be angry.
’
Her straightforward, ungrudging apology caught Christopher completely off guard. ‘I’m not. However, I am truly sorry if I scared you just now. Despite how it might have felt, it was never my intention to hurt you.’
‘You didn’t, but don’t ever kiss me like that again.’
Turning from him, she went to the door. Christopher followed, halting her by catching hold of her arm and speaking close to her ear from behind. ‘Of course you must leave, but before you do, Lucy, I will give you a warning. Just one,’ he enunciated harshly. ‘Call it advice, if you prefer. I don’t normally receive guests in my bedroom—and should it become known, then your reputation will be beyond salvaging. Remember that.’
‘You seem to have forgotten that I’ve been in your bedroom once before—not too long ago—when I ran to you for help and you took me there yourself.’
‘That’s true, but the circumstances were entirely different.’
‘Then why did you kiss me? Was it a desire to humiliate me for having the audacity to come to your room? If so, I will never forgive you for that. Please don’t touch me again.’
Her words scorched Christopher’s soul with its fierce, despairing passion. ‘You won’t fight me, Lucy. I know you. I know how you feel.’
‘No, you don’t,’ she cried, her cheeks and eyes blazing, her fists tightly clenched as she struggled to contain her rioting emotions. ‘No one knows how or what I feel. No one.’
* * *
Trying desperately to control her raging emotions, in helpless misery Lucy opened the door and slipped out, closing it quietly behind her while wondering what on earth had possessed her to come to his room in the first place. Now she could only feel the pain and humiliation of what she took to be a form of rejection. The tight tension of regret was beginning to form in her chest that she had dared to come here. This wasn’t what she had wanted when she had sought him out. This wasn’t the same man who had kissed her before with so much tender passion that she had wanted him to go on kissing her for ever.
A Viscount to Save Her Reputation Page 13
