An Affair Most Wicked (19 page)

But beyond his physical beauty, he possessed a free and open disposition that was such a large part of his extraordinary charisma. In this era of restraint and sexual repression, he was the opposite. He called out with an offer of pleasure and laughter.

That, perhaps, was what made people uncomfortable around him. He drew attention. He was extreme in his pursuit of gratification, and he made women think lustful thoughts. Perhaps they worried that it showed. Perhaps they felt their cheeks flushing with desires for this-that-and-everything, and they feared the whole world would know.

His gaze fell upon her, and he smiled. “Clara.”

All her senses trembled at the husky sound of his voice and the fierce intensity of his eyes as he entered and approached her, kissed her hand, then greeted James and Sophia. He was so suave and irresistible, he took her breath away.

Oh, she hoped Mrs. Gunther had been wrong about him. Clara prayed she was not making a serious mistake, agreeing to marry a man who would have the power to break her heart into a million tiny pieces, because she adored him so much and he was not so ardent in the return of his affections.

He’d told her he would
try
to be faithful.
Try
.

How hard would he try?

A footman entered the room and brought a tray of champagne around. Clara gratefully accepted a glass.

They all stood and talked about the wedding plans and about Clara’s family: when they would be able to come to London, where Clara planned to purchase her wedding gown, and other topics related to the upcoming nuptials.

Had they set a date yet? someone asked. Why not next spring? Lady Rawdon suggested. Sooner, Seger had replied, gazing seductively at Clara.

She felt as if she were watching the conversation from a great distance away.

A short time later, Seger lured Clara to the other side of the room and glanced over her shoulder at the others, as if to make sure no one was watching.

“You look positively luscious tonight,” he said, running a finger along her forearm and up to the top of her long glove. “But you always look luscious. You make me hungry.”

“Thank you. I’m nervous, Seger.”

“Why? We are engaged now, all is right and proper.”

She glanced uneasily at the others, laughing about something. “Yes, but it all happened so fast. Aren’t you worried? You don’t have cold feet?”

He smiled. “No. If anything, I want to move the wedding date forward. That’s how badly I want you, my dear. I am aching for our honeymoon.”

Glancing at the others again, he snuck the other hand up to touch her briefly behind the ear and send a wave of gooseflesh down her leg, then he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers before dropping his arm to his side. It was all done so quickly, so discreetly, that it left her trembling with desire for something more.

How skilled he was at seduction. He could reduce her to a blob of pudding with a single touch.

Would he ever do something like that to another woman in another drawing room one day? Was that how easy it would be?

No. She had to stop thinking those things. He had told her he would try to be faithful. He had told her he wanted her more than he wanted any other woman in a very long time. She would be content with that and enter into this marriage with favorable expectations.

Still trembling from the way he had touched her, she swept all that nonsense away. “I admit, I am looking forward to our honeymoon, too.”

“Then let’s get married in September.”

“Your stepmother suggested the spring.”

“Yes, but she’s not thinking about what I’m thinking about.”

Suppressing a chuckle, Clara said, “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Good, because I don’t think there are words for it.”

They walked leisurely around the room, aware of the others talking and laughing.

“October, then?” Seger asked.

Clara raised an eyebrow. “A wedding should not be rushed. There are things to plan, like flowers and music and food.”

“It can all be planned in a day if one is focused.”

“My gown must be designed and made. That can’t be done in a day.”

“It can be done in a week for the right price.”

“A week! You’d have me wear something plain or unoriginal?”

“I’d have you wear nothing at all if we could do it in private. Honestly, all that wedding business is just for show. I’ve never cared what other people think and I would marry you tomorrow in the back garden with only the necessary number of witnesses if you would agree.”

She took a sip of her champagne and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you afraid I’ll change my mind?”

He pressed a hand to his chest as if he had been shot. “Good gracious. I hadn’t thought of that. Now that you mention it, I suppose I must consider the possibility. How will I ever keep your interest through the winter, which is so dashedly long and cold?”

“I think the question of the hour is ‘how will I keep
your
interest?’ ” she replied.

He stopped walking and leaned in closer. “That will be very easy. Just smile like that, wear more dresses like that, and every once in a while, send me an indecent letter.”

Clara laughed out loud. The others quieted and glanced at them, then resumed their conversation. Seger and Clara began walking around the perimeter of the room again.

“I would give anything to be alone with you right now,” he said softly. “I fear this proper behavior where you are concerned will be the end of me.”

“I wouldn’t want that, my lord.”

His gaze was hot and sexy. “Then marry me in September.”

“You are very persistent.”

“When I want something, yes. September?”

“But it is now June. That gives us little over two months.”

“That’s two months too long. Let’s tell everyone tonight. The wedding will be in September. I can make arrangements for our honeymoon immediately. Would you like to go to Italy? Or perhaps to America? You choose, as long as it’s in September.”

She shook her head at him in disbelief. “Do you never give up?”

“Not when it comes to what I want. Will you agree?”

His tenacity was amusing and flattering and left her feeling warm and excited inside. Unable to resist his enticing, pleading expression, she set her empty glass down on a table and grinned wickedly. “Yes.”

“Superb. Now that leaves us two whole months to figure out a way to avoid another scandal.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, concern suddenly clouding her thoughts.

“You don’t expect me to survive that long without kissing you, do you? I believe I would collapse in painful, throbbing agony, and I mean that quite literally.”

Clara laughed again and tapped his chest with the tip of her closed fan. “What are we going to do about that?”

He touched her arm where it was bare, just above the top of her glove and below her short, lacy sleeve. She felt instantly aroused and glanced at the others to make sure they weren’t looking.

Seger leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I still know how to give pleasure without destruction, and I believe you know how to accept and enjoy it. All we require is a location.”

She gazed up at him in disbelief. “You’re not trying to lure me out to your carriage in the middle of the night again, are you?”

“Actually, I had somewhere else in mind. Somewhere much more comfortable, but a good deal riskier. How about tomorrow night?”

Could she even pretend not to be interested in hearing his shocking and appalling plan? Not a chance.

Her mouth curled up in a smirk as she flicked open her fan and waved it in front of her face. “All right. I’ll bite. What, pray tell, are the scandalous particulars?”

Seger awakened the next morning feeling energetic and famished. His future wife was turning out to be a bold and adventurous woman, unlike any of the appropriately insipid debutantes he’d ever met.

He was not sorry, he decided as he sat down in the breakfast room and picked up his newspaper. He needed a woman like her as a wife, someone who would enjoy a little spice in their marriage. Or presently, their engagement. He could never have married a tame and spiritless young woman. He needed excitement, and Clara, innocent as she was, was proving to him again and again that she suited him absolutely. She had agreed to his shocking proposition—even
he
thought it was shocking—and he would see her tonight. In private.

Maybe with a few well-timed trysts like these, he would survive until September after all.

Though it would be a challenge not to deflower her completely. Could he survive that? He had already plucked a good number of petals.

He supposed he would have to. There was always the off chance that something could happen to him—he could get hit by an omnibus or something of that nature—and he couldn’t leave her alone in the world, unmarried and possibly carrying his child. He would marry her first.

He looked up from his newspaper when Gillian walked into the breakfast room. Under her arm, she carried a large, heavy package wrapped in brown paper, and set it down on the chair beside her.

“Good morning, Seger,” she said in her quiet, childlike voice before she sat down at the white-clothed table across from him.

“Good morning, Gillian. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” She waited for the footman to set her plate down in front of her, then reached for her fork. “It was a lovely dinner last night. Did you enjoy yourself?”

He glanced up from his paper again. His cousin did not usually ask questions at meals. She was very quiet and shy, and this surprised him.

Seger smiled, folded his paper and set it aside. “I did enjoy myself, and what about you?”

Though she usually did not meet his gaze directly when she spoke to him—or anyone else for that matter—this morning she did. At least a few times, anyway, over the top of her plate.

It was a shame she was so painfully shy. She was not an unattractive young woman, if only she would smile occasionally and speak up more often.

“It was delightful,” she said. “I must say, I like Clara very much. She’s lovely.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The conversation stalled for a moment or two while Gillian ate her breakfast. Seger considered picking up the paper again, but did not wish to be rude. He sipped his coffee instead and stared out the window.

“September is a lovely time for a wedding,” Gillian said, surprising him by resuming the conversation. “Will all of Clara’s family come over from America? I understand she has another sister.”

“Yes, her name is Adele and she’s eighteen. I’m sure she will look forward to meeting you. She is out this year for her first Season, just like you.”

“I wonder what it would be like to have a Season in New York,” Gillian replied. “America sounds like an exciting place. I would love to visit it sometime.”

“Perhaps you will.”

She smiled across the table at him, though he saw very little joy in her eyes. He had never seen her sparkle the way Clara sparkled, not once in all her life, and he’d known her since she was an infant, when she came with her mother from Scotland to London to attend Quintina’s marriage to Seger’s father. Seger had been seven at the time.

Seger suddenly recalled the day they buried Gillian’s mother two years ago. Gillian had wept silently through the entire service. Seger had been sitting in a pew across from her and had watched her wipe her cheeks incessantly under the black netting of her hat, though she’d never made a sound.

She, like him, was an only child, except that she had been extremely close to her mother. Quintina had explained the uncommon bond between them when she’d received the telegram about her sister’s death. Seger had marveled at the bond, realizing he was not able to understand what it could have been like growing up in a house where one did not feel completely alone. Seger had grieved deeply for the young woman’s loss.

She must feel very alone now, he thought with more than a little sympathy, even though Quintina did her best to be a mother figure whenever Gillian came to visit.

Gillian finished her breakfast and set down her fork. She reached for the large package beside her. “I have something for you, Seger. It’s an engagement gift.”

She brought the gift around the table and handed it to him. He gazed up at her with surprise. “My word. Thank you.”

Gillian sat down in Quintina’s usual spot.

Seger used his breakfast knife to cut the string, then opened the package. “An Atlas, and a very good one. What a perfect gift, Gillian. How did you know I enjoy maps?”

“I’ve noticed that you read a lot of travel books, and the Atlas you have is very old. This one is new and has more detail.”

He leafed through it. “I dare say it does. This is magnificent. Thank you again.” He smiled at her, reached across the table and patted her hand. “I will treasure it.”

He saw her eyes light up at the compliment, and was glad to at last see some spark.

Chapter 13

Shortly before three o’clock in the morning, Clara quietly tiptoed downstairs to open the door she and Seger had decided upon—the same one she had sneaked through the night she had ventured out into the fog to meet him in his carriage.

Tonight, however, she would not go outside. He would come to her. For one hour, while everyone slept, he would share her bed.

It was wanton and irresponsible she knew, but she could not resist the thrill that came with knowing she would be alone with him tonight, touching him in the darkness. Smelling him and kissing him. Bringing him into her private world.

She tried not to feel too guilty about her willingness to do something so wildly improper. They were engaged, after all. It was not as if she were doing this with a stranger. Seger was going to marry her.

They simply had to do something to get through the next two months, for the entire foundation of their relationship was based on lust, and their present geographical separation was becoming impossible to bear. At least for Clara.

Besides that, it was never too soon to start building on the foundation that she hoped would evolve into something more.

That was perhaps her primary objective, why she couldn’t help but be accommodating to his needs, which at the moment were solely physical.

Consequently, she had given him detailed instructions on how to make his way through the house in the dark tonight, and how to find her room. She’d told him she would leave her door ajar and light a candle. She’d explained which steps and floorboards creaked, and which doors were routinely left open. Thankfully there were no dogs in Wentworth House to raise a ruckus, so Seger could be quite sure of reaching her room without incident.

Clara sat on her bed on top of the covers, her nightgown unbuttoned at the collar, her hair freshly combed, feeling as if she were waiting for a train to blast through her room and screech over her bed. Her heart was pounding, her senses humming as she listened for the slightest sound from outside her door. The nervous excitement rushing through her veins was enough to make her giddy.

The clock chimed three times in the entryway downstairs, then a few more drawn out minutes ticked by. Anxious about Seger’s safe and undetected arrival, Clara slipped off her bed and padded to the door to peer out into the hall.

He wouldn’t forget, would he? she wondered uneasily, fearing that he might not be as enthusiastic as she was about spending this brief hour together. Maybe all his flattery was mere habit. Maybe it was in his nature to make women feel attractive and alluring. Maybe he did this sort of thing—snuck into ladies’ bedrooms in the middle of the night—all the time and it was a mere walk in the park. Easy to disregard. He might have fallen asleep. He might be out at a party somewhere and had lost track of time.

She suddenly felt foolish to think that he might have been anticipating this encounter as ardently as she, thinking of nothing else but this for the past twenty-four hours. This was nothing new to him.

But suddenly, without warning, there he was. He appeared like a ghost at her door.

She had heard nothing—no floorboards creaking, no footsteps tapping up the stairs. Before she could comprehend that he had not forgotten her, the door behind him quietly swung closed and he was holding her face in his hands, kissing her with his hot, wet mouth, parting her lips with his own.

“I managed to get here,” he whispered. “Let’s just hope your maid is a sound sleeper and we are not interrupted.”

The image of them being interrupted jarred her brain. What exactly would they be doing? she wondered with a sharp thrill, imagining all kinds of interesting things.

He left her breathless for a moment while he went to lock the door, then returned to fill her senses with pleasure and ecstasy using the inconceivable skill of his kiss.

He backed her up to the bed and eased her down upon it, then stood looking down at her while he removed his jacket and waistcoat, and pulled off his boots.

A few seconds later, he was lying beside her, leaning on one elbow and running his forefinger down her open collar to the center between her breasts. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to let me stay for two hours?” he whispered.

“In a few minutes, you’ll be able to convince me to do anything, Seger, so give me your word right now, while I still have my head. One hour, then you must go. We’re taking enough of a risk as it is.”

He nodded and unfastened another button on her nightgown, gazing flirtatiously into her eyes the whole time. He slid his warm hand inside to her breast, massaging it gently and sending waves of heat straight to her core. “I’m always making promises where you are concerned.”

His mouth covered hers and she drank in the exquisite male taste of him, washing her tongue over his.

“Are we not going to talk tonight?” she whispered as he reached down to gather her nightgown in his fist and slowly pull it up past her waist.

Smiling down at her, he shook his head. “We can talk at the next assembly, or you can write me a letter. But this…” He urged her up onto her knees so he could pull her nightgown off over her head. “This can’t be enjoyed in public, and since we have only one hour…”

Suddenly she was naked in the candlelight, allowing him to gaze openly at her body. Sitting back on her heels, she realized she had never imagined couples did this sort of thing together. She’d imagined that everything would take place in pitch darkness, under the covers, with the lovers’ eyes closed.

On top of that, she had never imagined she would ever do such a scandalous thing in her sister’s house while everyone slept. The danger made it all the more exhilarating.

“You are lovely,” he whispered. “You will pardon me if I don’t waste a single minute?” Then he eased her back down onto the soft mattress and his tongue licked, and licked eagerly, and moved in circles over the rigid peaks of her breasts. Clara wriggled and fought to keep herself from letting out an impassioned groan. She would have to work hard to remember to keep quiet during the next glorious hour.

He continued to plunge his face into her breasts and suck until she was breathless with desire. She twisted lasciviously as his tongue lifted from her erect nipple and slid into her mouth.

The sheer pleasure of being naked beneath him was enough to drive her into the beyond. She groped for his neckcloth and tore at it, then sat up again to pull his shirt off so she could rub her hands up and down his beautiful muscled chest.

“Take everything off,” she whispered, overcome with an intense, instantaneous need. “Let’s be naked together.”

She saw doubt flash in his eyes. He seized both her hands in his and held them. His voice was husky, yet gentle with a warning. “That might be dangerous.”

Clara stilled, not really understanding what it would be like for him. “I don’t want to make it unpleasant for you. I just want to lie naked with you. Can we do that?”

He hesitated a moment, then smiled and let go of her hands. “None of this could ever be unpleasant, Clara, even if it killed me. Perhaps just my shirt.”

He pulled it off over his head.

A moment later he was lying on top of her, kissing her, stroking her thighs with his warm, gentle hands and flicking his tongue over her swollen nipples again. The feel of his skin against her chest, so hot and moist and close, made her quiver with delight and wrap her legs around his pelvis.

He still wore his trousers, and she suspected it would take a great deal of convincing to get him to take them off. The thick fabric was their last line of defense.

But oh, how her body yearned for more, though more of what she had no idea. There was still so much she had yet to experience, though she remembered certain things he had done to her last time and longed to do them again. A sweet ache began to pulse and drip between her legs as he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close, caressing the soft flesh of her bare bottom.

“Oh, Seger, I love the way you touch me. I want more.”

“Then more you shall have.”

He inched down her belly, laying kisses around her navel and stroking her breasts with his expert fingers, gently pinching them and squeezing them. Clara spread her thighs and ran her fingers through his hair, and could not stop herself from thrusting her hips in eager, twisting circles.

Soon, she was persuading him in a southerly direction, longing for the feel of his head between her thighs. Lord, how she craved the exquisite pleasure of his mouth kissing her in that most sensitive, private place, the same way he had pleasured her in the carriage.

At last she felt his tongue probe the soft center of her desire, and her breath caught in her throat. Her heartbeat quickened in erotic response as he explored the damp folds of her flesh. Almost of their own accord, her thighs spread wider, her legs bent at the knees as she held onto his head and strove to open herself still more to him, if it were possible.

This was some kind of seventh heaven of rapture, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut and arched her back and tossed her head to the side on the pillow. Seger mouthed her and pleasured her, his face buried between her legs. The mere sound and feel of his breathing was enough to drive her wild with delight. He seemed to be able to go on forever doing what he was doing.

“Do you enjoy this?” she found herself asking in a breathless voice. “Or is this just for me?”

He stopped only for a second to reply. “I enjoy it immensely.”

Then he dove in with even more devotion to the task.

She held his head tightly against her and wrapped her legs around his shoulders, feeling the oncoming tidal wave of the ultimate crest of passion. She fought to push it away, for it was too soon. He’d only just gotten here. She wanted to draw the pleasure out a little longer. “Stop,” she whispered. “Come here.”