Chapter Six
When I woke to Jane’s knowing expression as she loomed over me, I knew that did not bode well for my temporary engagement with Edwin. Twelve more days. With a groan, I rolled over and shoved my face into the soft pillow.
“Don’t think you can run away so easily.”
I groaned again. “I wasn’t running. I was rolling.”
Jane tapped my shoulder. “It is past time to wake up.”
Of that, I doubted sincerely. Jane thought if the sun had risen, it was past time to wake up. But I lifted my head marginally, just in case. “What time is it?”
“Half eight of the morning.”
Well, I certainly hadn’t thought it was evening. I sighed. “How bad is it?”
Jane beamed. The bed shifted as she rested her rump beside my hip. She clasped her hands in her lap. Today, she wore a patterned brown dress. It bunched around her hips.
Her smile turned sly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you don’t.” I shooed her across the aisle to the vacant bed I still hadn’t moved and sat up, rubbing my eyes. Jane had already thrown the curtains wide. Sunlight streamed in, hailing an obnoxiously bright new day. Even at this early hour, the air was warm. It would be sweltering today.
Given the dinner party I’d suffered through last night, I’d just as soon live in darkness. No good could come of this. I swung my legs over the side of the bed. From the foot of the bed, Puck raised his head. He nearly tripped over his feet as he scrambled to leave the bed first. He bounded to the door, but when I didn’t follow, he whirled around to stare at me.
I ignored him. If I looked him in the eye, he would bowl me over in his enthusiasm to go for a walk and demand his breakfast.
I rubbed my temple. If only Puck’s needs were the only thing I had to worry about this morning. “How far has it spread?”
Jane pursed her lips, but a smile teased at the corners of her mouth. “Whatever do you mean?”
I scowled. “You know what I mean. The rumor.” When she opened her mouth, I held up my hand. “And don’t say ‘which rumor.’”
A sly smile spread over her face. “Let’s suffice it to say that I didn’t learn from the Sutton household.”
I leaned my head into my hands and moaned. “Does Papa know?”
“I haven’t told him.”
I lifted my head. “Don’t. Please.”
Jane’s air of knowing enthusiasm dimmed. She tucked away a strand of her hair and frowned. “Why not? Don’t you think he has a right to know you’re getting married? In fact, shouldn’t Lord Sutton have asked him?”
Perhaps he should have, had this been an official engagement. However, it wasn’t. It was a farce. “I see no reason to bother Papa when the engagement is but temporary, especially so soon to the anniversary of Mama’s death. The moment these rumors die down, we’ll cry off. He need never know.”
Raising her eyebrows, Jane said, “In that case, perhaps you ought to try harder, not to create new rumors or you will find yourself walking down the aisle with Lord Sutton.”
I jumped to my feet. Puck’s claws clacked against the floor as he jumped toward the door again.
“I have to fix this.” I crossed to the wardrobe and plucked out the first clothes that met my fingertips, a rough pair of trousers and a slightly wrinkled shirt. I didn’t even bother with stockings or drawers but shucked the nightdress and tugged on the trousers. They scraped against my skin. Jane handed me a roll of bandages for my chest. I hesitated. Would Edwin think less of me if I showed up on his doorstep dressed in men’s clothes?
With irritable, jerky movements, I wound the cloth tight. Jane rounded to my back to help. I didn’t care what Edwin thought of me. In fact, that devilish kiss notwithstanding, I didn’t want him to find me desirable. We needed to find a way out of this marriage, and he was the smartest man I knew. Together, we would find a way to negate these rumors.
Puck whined and head-butted me in the thigh, pushing me off balance. I clutched the edge of the wardrobe. With an irritated voice, Jane called for Puck. She led him out the door. The moment he stepped foot in the corridor, she hauled the door shut. Puck whined, scratching at the wood.
I sighed. “We can’t leave him there.” My chest clenched as he cried again.
She crossed her arms. “He’ll be fine until you finish dressing. One of the cats will run by and he’ll forget all about us.”
As if her words conjured the cat, Puck barked several times in succession and tore off down the hall.
She helped me don a waistcoat and jacket. “Have you considered seeing this engagement through to its end?”
I choked on my tongue. “Marriage?” She had to be jesting. When I turned to meet her gaze, she looked utterly serious and more than a little concerned.
“It’ll do your father good to know someone’s taking care of you.”
I clenched my fists. They trembled too much to tie the cravat. I balled the material and threw it back into the wardrobe. My collar, not fully starched, drooped away from my neck.
Jane gathered my hair to braid it. I shut my eyes and forced myself to relax, not to snap at her. She meant well and didn’t deserve to be mistreated. By the time she tied the end of the braid with a cord, I had myself under control.
Calmly, I asked, “Why do women need to be taken care of? Why not him?”
“Perhaps he does. I care more for you.” She handed me a cap and I stuffed my hair beneath. Her light eyes twinkled as she added, “Everyone needs to be taken care of now and again.”
Not me. I thrived on my independence.
Averting my gaze, I mumbled my appreciation for her help. “Thank you. I must be off to see my betrothed. Will you look after Puck?”
“Of course.”
Although I lived in a neighborhood at least half an hour’s walk from Edwin’s, I walked. The exertion burned away a portion of the panic seizing my limbs. My heart pounded by the time I reached the steps in front of his obnoxiously painted blue door. If anyone could concoct a way to quell the illicit rumor of our liaison, Edwin could. He approached problems with a calm, cool intellect I had yet to achieve.
I rapped on the door. Isaac opened it seconds later. Did he always open the door wearing so severe an expression, or had he predicted I’d come to call? Given the way his eyebrows climbed, I doubted it was the latter.
I pushed past him into the house. “I need to speak with Edwin.”
“You can’t,” Isaac said. “He’s still asleep.”
Then I’d find him in his bedchamber. I took the steps two at a time. From the vivid curse and the slam of the door, Isaac disapproved. He bounded after me. His long legs outmatched mine. He stepped into my path, barring me from entering Edwin’s bedchambers.
“He’s asleep.”
“It’s morning. He’ll survive.” I tried to step around his form, but he sidestepped into my path again. For a man nearly as tall as a lantern post, he moved quickly. I crossed my arms over my chest, glowering at him.
“Let me pass, Isaac. I will speak with him, one way or another.”
“He’s not dressed.”
I rolled my eyes. “What does it matter? I’m not a prude. Now let me speak with my blasted fiancé! We need to find a way out of this.”
The wary glimmer in his eyes dimmed. “A way out of what, exactly?”
My breath left my lungs in a whoosh. Better I tell him before the rumors exaggerated what had happened beyond recognition. “Edwin and I were caught in a compromising position at the Cravens’ dinner party last night. At this rate, if we don’t find a way to circumvent these rumors, we’ll have to marry.” I thrust a finger into the butler’s bony chest. “And that would be a bad idea. We’d make each other miserable. I’d make you miserable. Don’t forget that.”
Maybe Isaac would talk some sense into Nancy. I bit my tongue. When have you had such good luck?
After a moment of guarded silence, Isaac stepped to the side. As I strode past him, reaching for the latch to the door, he caught my arm. His eyes were two hard flecks of flint.
“If you break his heart, I will rededicate the rest of my life to breaking yours.” From the low, tremulous tone, he meant every word.
Yanking myself free, I straightened my spine, for all the good it did. He towered over me.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Hearts have nothing to do with this. We’re engaged for convenience, nothing more.”
Silence weighed heavy in the corridor as I thrust the door open and entered Edwin’s room, easing the door shut behind me. The darkness pressed against my eyes. A bizarre, spicy scent laced the thick air.
Silhouettes separated from the shadows—the wide bed, a wardrobe, a heavy chair, a screen, and bunches of something that looked uncannily like plants growing from the ceiling. They hung from strings like chimes. I shook my head. Only Edwin would consider drying plants to be appropriate bedroom décor. In the shades of gray, I tiptoed across the room and yanked one side of the curtain open. Sunlight streamed through the north-facing window, arching long fingers toward the bed, where Edwin stirred. He sprawled on his back, one arm curled above his head and the other thrust to the side. The dark tufts of his underarm hair winked against skin only a shade darker than the sheets. One calf, sprinkled with hair, poked out from beneath the bed sheet twined around the lower half of his body. His upper body was bare.
Did he sleep in the nude?
I gulped. Had I made a mistake in barging in? The image of his naked body branded itself on my eyelids.
Edwin yawned. He raised himself onto his elbows, blinking as he opened his eyes.
“Mary, what—”
Clarity struck him like a lightning bolt. He bolted upright. The sheet fell from his hips, barely covering his manhood as it draped haphazardly over his thighs. A trail of dusky hair led from his navel south to disappear beneath the sheet. His stomach muscles contracted as my gaze lit upon them, tightening. For a lord, he was remarkably fit. How did he stay so in shape…and why?
I licked my lips. The muscles in my body coiled, waiting for…something. I didn’t know what. I raised my gaze to Edwin’s. His eyes were darker than usual in the dim light, like his pupils had swallowed up his irises. His long fingers clenched the mattress beside his bare hip. The crease in his thigh arrowed straight to the growing tent between his legs.
I stepped closer.
“Mary?”
His voice rasped. It grated over my skin like gravel, raising goose flesh in its wake. My heartbeat stuttered. In a daze, I advanced until I stood directly beside him. Until he craned his neck to stare into my face. The corded muscles of his arms and shoulders were rigid and still, as if he didn’t trust himself to move.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, an enticing beacon as he swallowed. What would his stubbly skin taste like? I licked my lips again.
“Are you mad?”
I tried to smile, but the wan curl of my lips faded into nothing. “I think I am.”
I laid my bare hands on his shoulders. His skin was hot, smooth. I pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him.
Yes, I must be mad. It had been months since I was physically intimate with my last lover. At one point, I’d expected that relationship to last forever. At least this time I knew this would come to its inevitable conclusion twelve days from now. Still, I wanted the illusion that passion brought of banishing the loneliness that plagued me. I craved the madness.
When I fitted myself against his hard male body, I curled my fingers into his muscled shoulders. Instead of appalling me, the stiff length of his arousal brought an answering flush against my skin as it joined to my cloth-covered core. I squirmed, drawing out the frisson climbing up my spine.
His mouth dropped open. His eyes widened, but he didn’t speak a word. Not even in protest.
Good. I didn’t want clarity or common sense. I wanted to taste him.
Leaning over him, I pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. His skin tasted salty, but not unpleasant. I inched farther up his body, pressing a kiss to the base of his throat. His pulse fluttered beneath my tongue in a rapid rhythm matching my own. A strangled, ragged groan escaped his throat and he tilted his head back, letting it fall back against the pillow. The muscles in his arms and torso were tense, as stiff as his manhood.
I moved higher to straddle his abdomen in order to reach the tantalizing flesh beneath his jaw. His pulse beat stronger there, begging for the touch of my tongue. His taste deepened, the scrape of his stubble against my lips surprisingly erotic. He smelled earthy.
“Mary.” His voice broke, something akin to a plea. He raised his hands to my back but didn’t draw me away. Instead, he splayed his palms over my spine. His heat seared me through my clothes. I raised my head to meet his gaze.
“What are you doing?”
His gaze was tortured, his words rigid as if he had to force them out. I swallowed heavily.
What am I doing? “Nothing. I’m doing nothing at all.”
I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to analyze it. For once, I yearned for the fleeting burn sweeping my body. When his lips parted, I captured them in a kiss.
After a second, his mouth softened beneath mine, surrendering. Then he kissed me back every bit as urgently as I kissed him. As voraciously. His movements as he urged me closer knocked my cap loose. He fisted his hand in my braid, holding me steady. His free hand splayed over my lower back. He clutched me tighter as his muscles bunched beneath me.
He rolled, reversing our positions. My back pressed into the mattress. He fitted his manhood against my core but couldn’t press his body along mine without breaking the kiss. Given the quick, urgent way he nipped at my lips and teased with his tongue, he refused to do that.
The sheet slipped farther, trapped between our bodies. The dark cloth of my trousers cut a stark swath over Edwin’s pale hips. Although I couldn’t see the evidence of his manhood, from the feel of him as he rocked against me, it was an impressive length. He rolled his hips against mine as he devoured my mouth.
Tentatively, I ran my hand down his side, over his ribs. He shivered, arching away from my touch. He broke the kiss for a moment to meet my gaze.
“Ticklish,” he rumbled. A single word, as if I’d nearly reduced his sentences to monosyllables.
In that moment, the imposing lord in him melted away to reveal a hint of the young man I used to know. Tension I hadn’t known I’d been carrying melted away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his thick hair as he returned to my mouth. When he rocked his hips against mine, I met him stroke for stroke. He trembled, deepening the kiss. From his guttural sounds, he liked that. I did it again, reveling in the response. It made me feel powerful, in control even though his body bracketed me on all sides.
His kisses turned feverish. He battled at my throat, pulling aside my collar to bare my neck. When he pressed his kiss there, a moan escaped my lips. I lowered my hand to his left hip, bracing my palm against the smooth, tender skin there.
I’d burned from passion before, but this was an inferno. If I wasn’t careful, the conflagration would incinerate every last shred of my self-control. In that moment, I realized I didn’t want to resist.
I desired Edwin Sutton.
And that terrified me. I thrust my hands against his chest, the hair on his pecs tickling my palm as I urged him away.
“Stop.”
His body stiffened above me. For a moment, he stared down at me, his expression petrified. Then he rolled to the side. He moved so fast, he left the sheet behind.
“Mary, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I scrambled off the bed. When I turned to face him, he lunged for the sheet and dragged it to cover him, but not before I got an eyeful of his member. His lengthy, erect member. My cheeks heated like a furnace. I swallowed, raising my gaze to his face.
No, I couldn’t even do that. I fled.
“Mary—”
I burst into the hallway and barreled down the stairs so fast, I nearly tripped. Isaac appeared from one of the rooms downstairs, his eyes wide. A maid trailed him, a feather duster in her hand and an apron tied around her waist. I turned my face away, afraid they would read my lingering desire for Edwin. From the muffled cursing drifting from upstairs and the stampede of footsteps, Edwin was hot on my heels. Surely he didn’t intend to come down wearing nothing but a bed sheet? At the bottom of the stairs, I glanced over my shoulder to find him at the top of the stairs, shirtless and buttoning the fall of his breeches. I ran out of the house, slamming the door behind me.
My heart pounded so hard I feared my head would split in two. In the searing sunshine, I still couldn’t catch my breath. Not a single carriage lingered in the street. I balled my fists and ran. The exertion burned through my limbs. I welcomed the ache of stitches blooming in my side. Before I knew it, I’d reached Blandford Street again. Home. Safety.
I took the stairs two at a time, only noticing at the top that the house was quiet. Jane must have taken Puck for a walk. On the threshold of my bedchamber, I leaned against the doorframe. The empty room and neatly made beds taunted me. No one waited to comfort me. I was alone.
The run had burned away much of the fear gnawing at me. In its wake, I could only look on what had happened as a temporary insanity. Much like this engagement would run its course, so too would my desire for Edwin. We weren’t the same people we once were—we weren’t suited to one another. My heartbeat slowed as I turned away from the room.
Brutus mounted the stairs, a letter clutched in his hand. “I thought I heard you come in. This came for you while you were out. The messenger said it was urgent.”
That explained the broken seal. The household must have wanted to verify the contents. “And is it?”
“Time sensitive, perhaps, but not urgent. A Mrs. Craven wants to know if you’re willing to meet with her this morning before the heat peaks rather than this afternoon.”
“Will you bring the reply? Tell her I’ll be ready in half an hour.” I blessed my forethought in ensuring the staff were able to read and write. Pretending to be someone I wasn’t sounded like just the thing I needed to lift my mind from this temporary insanity between me and Edwin. And if I conveniently “forgot” my paints, perhaps I wouldn’t have to worry about this watercolor nonsense, either.