A Gentleman's Wager (12 page)

He grasped her shoulders and thrust her against the blackened oak panelling with enough force to make a thump. She didn’t notice the pain, feeling only a rush of desire and vertigo, like a foretaste of orgasm. His teeth met her neck and nipped the delicate skin, while he loosened her stays enough for him to slide his fingers between fabric and flesh. Her nipples sprang to attention, then stiffened a little more as he teased her.

Bella hooked her thumbs into his waistband and tugged him closer. All her instincts craved penetration. She was ready for him now, but he was holding himself back. To her surprise, he suddenly sank gracefully to his knees. He lifted the hem of her skirt, bunched up the swathes of velvet and hoisted it to her waist. He brushed his cheek against her stockings, pressed a kiss to the skin above her garter then cupped her buttocks. His hands were hot against her cool cheeks, and warmed the soft skin as he pulled her forwards. She felt his tongue on her labia and the desire for penetration grew stronger. He dabbed at her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, teasing but never quite delivering. Even now, he toyed with her.

‘A gentleman should use his tongue fairly in the presence of a lady,’ she said.

He snorted, and pulled back long enough to give her a reproving glance.

‘A lady has two essential attributes: modesty and underwear.’

Bella almost kneed him on the chin. She’d never known a man who could swing her between desire and anger with such ease, and she wasn’t sure she appreciated the ability in him. How dare he! Yet the lapping of his tongue at her sensitive bud sapped the anger from her, taking away all her desire to hurt him.

‘Do you like that, my nightingale?’

Bella shook her head, stifling the purrs that rose in her throat. She didn’t want him to know how much she was enjoying this. He didn’t deserve that.

‘You’re a harlot,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I should use you like one. I could throw your skirt over your face, ride you hard against the stone and leave you a crown for you trouble.’

‘Bastard,’ she hissed. ‘Do it, then.’

Vaughan laughed and returned to his feet. ‘Maybe I will.’

Bella’s heart skittered over several beats. She whimpered as he began to massage her, fingers moving slickly in her wetness. If he entered her now, he would slide into her all at once. She tugged at the buttons on his waistband, then touched the head of his cock. She needed him now, this instant, inside her.

Vaughan stepped back and Bella’s eyes snapped open in surprise. ‘Vaughan,’ she sighed. He turned his back on her and she watched in disbelief as he strode to the door. ‘My lord?’ In the doorway he stopped and glanced over his shoulder from beneath his dark eyelashes. Bella reached out a hand, desire for him still coursing through her veins. He shook his head, watched her expression change from ecstasy to anguish, then blew her a kiss and left.

Alone and a hair’s breadth from orgasm, Bella slumped to the floor, devastated. She couldn’t believe he’d walked out on her. Blinking back tears of shame, she reached down with one trembling hand to give herself the relief he had denied her.

Louisa lay in bed for a long while after Annabella left but, although she yawned repeatedly and the quiet darkness made her eyelids heavy, her thoughts raced like the wind outside the window. Eventually the rattling panes drew her from her bed, and once she was up not even the cold could drive her back between the sheets.

She found her dressing gown and slippers and put them on, preoccupied with her thoughts. She had to talk to Frederick. There were so many things unsaid between them, and his moroseness at dinner had frightened her. He’d seemed bitter, and even resentful towards her. From the start he’d behaved like a gentleman, never
demanding
more of her than she was willing to give, but she knew that her desire to take things slowly and her nervousness about sex were trying him hard. Every time they stole a few minutes together his eagerness showed, and the kisses that at the start had seemed to satisfy him now only caused frustration. She had not told Bella, but the last time they’d been together he’d come in her hands, leaving a sticky cream over her fingers. She’d been too intrigued to be ashamed, but Frederick had seemed grateful and embarrassed at the same time.

The hallway was deserted; the old house groaned in the wind, but there were no voices on the landing or from the upstairs parlour. Either everyone had retired or they were downstairs. Frederick’s room was on the other side of the house, but she could cut through the long gallery to reach it. As she crept beneath the portraits, she could almost feel their disapproval. Men with thin cold mouths, Elizabethan forked beards and dark lifeless eyes stared at her, all-knowing. They played on her doubts as she reached his door, making her pause as she contemplated knocking. Suddenly, creeping to his room late at night dressed in a flimsy nightdress seemed rather unwise. She stepped away again in confusion and sat down in the window recess.

Vaughan was returning to his room. His encounter with Bella had improved his mood considerably. He had been laughing to himself all the way back to the house, and now he felt ready to face Lucerne again, confident that his friend would eventually come round. He just needed to give him enough rope to tangle his feet in, and then it would simply be a matter of timing.

So much came down to timing.

He shook his head, still smiling. Charles would be
celebrating
if he’d known what had just happened in the folly. He realised he might just have wasted his best chance with Bella, but Vaughan was sure she’d be back for more. Besides, seeing her pleading, almost begging, had given him a far greater thrill than he’d have got from tupping her. Bella Rushdale was rapidly becoming a thorn in his side. Lucerne had become entirely too fond of her over the last week, and he didn’t like the competition. He’d considered standing back and watching how things progressed. Perhaps Lucerne’s interest would wane once he’d had her but, based on what he knew of his friend, he didn’t think so. If Lucerne’s only interest had been in bedding her, he’d have fucked her in a haystack by now and moved on.

The key scratched against the brass lock plate as he blindly sought the hole, distracted by the slender figure he saw out of the corner of his eye. He left the key in the lock and walked towards her. Although his arousal had diffused as he’d walked back from the folly, there was still a prickle of lust clawing beneath his skin, and an uncomfortable heaviness to his loins. His erection was gone, but it wouldn’t take much to revive it. He knew what Lucerne thought about bedding the servants, but damn it, he was feeling purse-proud and Lucerne wasn’t exactly co-operating.

It was only as he got closer that he realised his mistake.

‘Louisa?’ What was she doing sitting in the corridor at this hour? He followed the line of her vision to Wakefield’s door. Well, that would explain it. So, she’d worked up her nerve at last? He’d better act quickly. He was buggered if he’d let her bravery cheat him out of sixty guineas.

‘What are you doing creeping about outside my door?’ he demanded.

He watched her snap back to reality. She blinked hesitantly, then flushed poppy-pink.

‘Nothing.’

Her eyes widened in alarm, bright-blue even in the dim light as he leaned over her to draw a finger across her flaming cheek. He watched her bottom lip quiver. She was so easy to tease. Poor naive Louisa. ‘Are you sure you weren’t waiting for someone?’

‘No.’

She stood abruptly, cautiously squeezed past him then fled down the corridor. ‘Am I so terrible?’ Vaughan called after her. He thought of giving chase, but turned on his heels instead and crossed to Wakefield’s door. He rapped sharply, then let himself in.

The captain looked up from his book as Vaughan clicked the door to and put his back to the wood. Wakefield was wearing a paisley dressing gown over his shirt and breeches. The pupils of his grey eyes shrank to pinpoints as he met Vaughan’s gaze.

‘Ah, Wakefield–’

‘What do you want?’

‘–do forgive the intrusion, but I thought I ought to inform you that you had a visitor lurking outside your door.’ Vaughan watched his hostile expression crease into a sceptical frown. Here was another person easy to tease. ‘Miss Stanley, in her nightshirt, no less. I think she was summoning the courage to knock, unless you think she was looking for my door.’

Wakefield leaped to his feet. His forgotten book fell from his lap and hit the floor with enough of a thump to raise dust from the carpet. ‘What have you done to her?’ he snapped, as he frantically unknotted his dressing gown.

Vaughan shrugged his shoulders and graced the captain with his most rakish smile.

‘Get out of my way.’

Vaughan stood his ground, while stifling the urge to laugh in Wakefield’s face. He wondered if he could actually incite the captain to punch him. ‘And if I won’t?’

‘Move!’

Wakefield barrelled into his side, winding him slightly. Vaughan righted himself and tensed, ready to hold his ground. He laughed when he saw Wakefield’s jaw clench. When the captain lurched towards him again, Vaughan neatly sidestepped, sending Wakefield hurtling into the solid wood door. He slammed into the oak and reacted with a snarl that bared his teeth, then fumbled for the catch and rattled the knob unsuccessfully, only managing to turn it on the third attempt. As the door finally swung open, he bolted through it.

Precious!

‘Piss!’ muttered Lucerne, as he steadied himself on the doorframe. He glared at the loose piece of carpet, then righted himself. He’d decided to call it a night after finally managing to thrash Joshua at billiards. It had taken six attempts and, although he’d insisted they lay out a seventh, he’d conceded after opening. The balls had become a fuzzy blur and someone was dancing flamenco-style on his skull.

He rocked slightly on his heels, then staggered forwards, keeping his grip on the wooden panelling. Two paces on he froze and watched in horror as a white lady came hurtling towards him. He gulped, then blinked uncertainly. Jesus, he was pickled, and now he was hallucinating. The spirit was closer now, almost on him. ‘Sorry,’ it mumbled as it swerved sharply to avoid running into him.

‘Louisa,’ he hissed. ‘Christ, are you trying to petrify me?’

She stopped dead, then looked back at him with searing blue eyes. ‘Sorry.’ There were tears on her flushed cheeks.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘No.’ She sniffed. Lucerne held out his hand.

‘Has someone upset you?’

She shook her head and bit her lower lip to stop it trembling. Then she threw herself at him, burying her face in his chest. He blinked in surprise, and made sure he had his balance before letting go of the wall to put his arms around her. He guessed Wakefield was responsible, or Vaughan. That name produced a rush of vertigo in Lucerne. He wondered what it did to her.

‘Do you think you can make it to your room?’ he asked, as he tried to shake the cotton wool fuzz from his head. He really wasn’t sober enough to be of much use. She shrugged her shoulders inconsolably. ‘Louisa, come on. It’s not far.’

She sniffed again, and dried her cheek with her hand. Lucerne’s heart turned over. He hated to see anyone cry. He pulled her closer and folded her tightly in his arms, only to become aware of the feel of her lightly clad body pressed against his. When he noticed her stiffen against him, he reined in his instincts to let his hands rove. She was shaking enough already. ‘Let’s get you to bed where it’s warm.’

He bent slightly and swept her up into his arms. It was only a short distance back to her room. The drink had made him clumsy, so it was just as well that she was so light. Still, it was a relief to reach the bed.

‘I’ll be fine now,’ she whispered as he lay her down.

‘Are you sure?’ He stroked her golden hair where it spilled over the pillow. The mattress was soft and welcoming. He yawned sleepily while wishing he could just put his head down.

‘Certain.’ It took him more effort than it should have to get up. She followed him to the door. ‘Good night, Lord Marlinscar.’

‘Good night,’ he replied, and then bent forwards to kiss her. Her mouth was soft and pliant, hot to the touch, and tasted salty from her tears. He hugged her reassuringly, but she pushed him away.

‘Good night,’ she repeated firmly, then closed the door. Lucerne looked blankly at the wood for a moment, and then turned towards the stairs. His head was buzzing furiously, and he needed to lie down. He thought he might just make it as far as the daybed in his dressing room.

You damned whoreson fop!’

The exclamation felt like a plate breaking inside his head. Through half-lidded eyes, he managed to focus on the figure coming towards him like a tempest. ‘Freddy.’ He rubbed his eyes slowly to try to remove the hazy film that was distorting his vision.

‘You utter bastard. Last night you played your stupid joke on me, and tonight you and that mincing dandy just had to tread on my–’ Wakefield’s nostrils flared, and his lip trembled with emotion ‘– my love.’

I’m too tired for this. Lucerne thought to himself, mildly surprised by the passion behind his friend’s words. ‘What are you talking about?’

Wakefield flinched, then recovered and puffed up his chest. ‘You know. Why else would you be making love to her?’

Lucerne wasn’t even certain what they were talking about, but he suspected it might be Louisa. Too drunk for diplomacy, he opted for denial. ‘I wasn’t.’

‘Damn it, I saw you.’

‘You saw me kiss her good night. She was upset.’

Freddy’s grey eyes took on the quality of flint. ‘That was some goodnight kiss, Lucerne. Did you practice it on your grandmother?’ he snarled.

Lucerne shook his head, and the pounding in his skull grew louder. He held up his hand. ‘Enough! I wasn’t kissing her. And I need to go to bed. Good night.’ He pushed past Frederick and lurched onto the landing, feeling rather resentful. What he didn’t need right now was another bloody argument; he’d had enough since last night. Wakefield’s jealousy was tiresome at any time. Right now, it stood between him and his bed. He’d only kissed her because she’d looked like she needed it. Why didn’t he go and yell at her?