Discovery of Desire (27 page)

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Authors: Susanne Lord

BOOK: Discovery of Desire
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She pressed him down and he sat, his knees parted wide, and her eyes latched to the jutting bulge of his trousers. “I'm to be had,” she whispered as she straddled a hard thigh and unbuttoned him. “Are you?”

His lips twitched with a grin. “When did you learn to flirt like that?”

Wanting him near, she leaned atop him, pressing her breasts against his hard chest. “I never flirted with you, remember?” She suckled his lower lip, tugging gently with her teeth, and his hard body tightened like granite. She kissed him hard, both inflamed and frustrated by his unyielding body. “Would you like me to flirt with you?” she asked, her words husky.

His eyes were closed but he nodded swiftly. “Go on, Minnie. Flirt all you want.”

No, she'd never been bold before. But Seth made her bold, made her a warrior. She yanked at the fabric of his trousers and the soft cotton drawers beneath, and dared to take the length of him into her hand. To claim him as her own.

“Ah…
God
.” His voice was loud, but she no longer cared if anyone could hear. Steel arms crushed her against him, and his kiss pressed and nudged and rolled in light circles. And she mirrored that rhythm with her hand on his hot flesh. He groaned his encouragement, and she learned what pleased him.

“Do you like this?” She squeezed him gently, and his heavy lids lifted.

“How did you know?” he asked in a hushed voice.

She smiled…until he shifted to sit up straight and kiss her softly.

“How did you always know, Minnie, how to love me like you do?”

His eyes were clear and intent on her, and her heart swelled with too much feeling. “It's so easy to love you, Seth.”

He blinked, and the surprise on his face made her still with wonder. His eyes crinkled, nearly closed with emotion. And he moved her hand off him and onto his shoulder so he could maneuver her leg over his hip and position himself against her.

And she nearly swooned at the feel of him entering her so slowly.

“My…
God
,” he breathed, his teeth clenched as he ground into her. “Only a lady could say something that sweet to me.”

She gasped as he filled her.

“A lady from the ground up. I knew it. I knew it the instant I heard your voice, heard the way you defended your friends.”

The pleasure, the heat of him, was almost too much. “Please…” She eased from the sensation, but strong hands moved her right back in place. And a spark, like lightning, almost like pain, coursed up her spine and through every nerve of her body. “
Seth…

“Ah, pretty,” he murmured. “Easy…just like that.”

Trembling, she took a moment to recover. But he watched her, and no one had ever looked at her like that—not just with love. But a promise to take care of her. To take care of her body and her heart.

She'd never known how much she wanted that.

She hugged him hard and, giving over to the bliss of their bodies, plunged hard and firm to feel him deep inside her. “I love you so much.”

A rumbling growl vibrated in his broad chest, and he held himself still.

“I'd do anything, Minnie.” He panted hard, his breath hot on her hair. “I'll give you more than love, I swear it.” He thrust up into her, and her body seized with pleasure. “I'll take care of you,” he said through gritting teeth. “Like you need, like a man—”

She kissed him, needing his mouth, his tongue, and there were no more words. Wave after wave of electric pleasure coursed through her with every plunge. It didn't end. It only grew more wonderful, more perfect—

“Ah, God!” Seth arched his powerful body under her, and she held tight to stay with him. But he gripped her hard, forcing her hips down, forcing her to come until she cried out. And then he was lifting her off him fast and crushing her higher against his chest. Something wet and slick slid down her thigh, and only then did she realize he'd spent outside of her.

And she never doubted that he would. Because he was so good and so careful with her, and he would never hurt her.

His arms loosened to let her slide back to his lap. She brushed back the damp tendrils of hair from his brow. “No matter what happens, Seth,” she whispered. “No matter”—
if we can't be together, if we can't marry
—“no matter the plan, I'm the luckiest woman in the world to be loved by you.”

The flush on Seth's cheeks and nose deepened, and he smiled. “Always on my side.” He kissed her lips lightly, but when he raised his head to look at her, his eyes were questioning. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded hard, sorry for every hurtful thing she must have said to him. “I trust you. I do.”

“Good.” He pulled a card from his pocket. “I'm inviting you to see my flowers.”

“Your flowers?” She took the letter from his hand and unfolded it. “The Horticulture Society's Annual Floral Fete.” She looked at him, his handsome face calm. “But this is the auction of your prizes.”

His gaze flickered away, but he nodded.

Her heart cracked for him. He must not have been able to prove any claim on them. She hugged him tight. “I can't wait to see them. You can tell me how you found each one.”

“Each one? There's quite a number. Can you listen to me run on nineteen to the dozen, all day long?”

She smiled wider. “All day long.”

He flushed and shifted her closer. Looking shy and pleased, even though he'd lost so much. But she'd take care of him now. And he'd take care of her.
Please, God. There had to be a way…

Seth sat back and smiled at her. “Charlotte tells me Opening Day at Chiswick Gardens is a highlight of the London Season. Meaning all the Quality show in their fancy dress and hats and it's all a fine rout. Invitation only, they tell me.”

The card she held was very white and very thick. “And we are both invited?”

He pointed with his chin at the one she was holding. “That's my invitation. You keep it—I won't need it to get in.”

“But—”

“Imagine me, rubbing elbows with all the Fashionables.”

“But, the invitation—”

“Wear your prettiest frock, Minnie. I like that lavender one a lot”—he frowned—“but you were wearing that when you said you wouldn't marry me, so maybe wear something different, all right?”

He kissed her and seemed happier than she'd seen him in a very long time.

“I won't wear the lavender.” Though, really, the lavender was her only gown for such an event.

It didn't matter. She would be there for Seth and she would be mighty for him. Because he would be watching all his hard-won prizes auctioned from him. Not even a heart as large as his could forgive such a betrayal.

Twenty-four

Three thousand.

That was the number Seth had been chasing in his head the past week. And now that the Opening Day of the Horticulture Society's Flower Show at Chiswick had arrived, along with the auction that would determine his future happiness, that number seemed to be echoing in every corner of his brain.
Three thousand…three thousand…three thousand
.

A madman's babel. He might be brainsick. Or a lunatic. Maybe he'd drive
himself
to Bedlam. But three thousand was a good, round number—where twenty-six was not.

Three thousand pounds was enough to mend the cottage and outbuildings, and furnish the rooms, and plant oats and an orchard, and keep Mina, all six sisters, and Sebastian fed, clothed, and housed for twenty-six months.

And after that…hell, the rest was faith. And strategy. Mostly strategy, he supposed, and he had the faith on account of Will and his man of business, Mr. Marlowe. They'd said his plan was sound. Three thousand, and he could propose to Mina. Three thousand, and he would be the happiest man in the world.

“Nervous, are you, Seth?”

Seth jerked at Will's voice. Though why his friend's presence would startle him was damn stupid. Will and Charlotte had been wandering the manicured lawn at Chiswick with him since he talked his way past the gatekeeper.

“Can't tell,” he said. “Nervous or excited or on the verge of apoplexy. I can't tell—can't pin the feeling down in my head.”

Charlotte handed him a plate of shortbread. “Then have a biscuit. You'll feel more yourself.”

Seth nodded and took a biscuit, but he didn't have the stomach to eat. “Thank you.” He smiled at her gown, all frothy, yellow ruffles. “Aren't you shaming these daffodils today, Charlotte? They might wither up seeing as how you outshine them.”

“You are full of such sweet nonsense, Seth.” She beamed, her blue eyes dancing. “Which flower do you think Mina will come dressed as?”

He didn't let his smile droop, but Mina wouldn't have a dress as fine as Charlotte's. Or any of these other women's. She had that lavender ball gown she'd worn in Bombay…and he'd asked her not to wear it. He probably shouldn't have done that.

Someday, he'd make it up to her. He'd buy her a dress for every color flower in the world. And a lady's maid to dress her hair, and another to press her linens, and a cook to mash her tea.

But first, three thousand. After that, he'd find a way to hire a maid for Mina.

Where was she?

He surveyed the grounds. A dozen or more white tents covered every spare patch of lawn. The ladies twirled in their wide skirts, sparkling in their pearls and gems and satins. The flowers in the conservatory weren't any match for this level of finery. These were hothouse aristocrats. No, Mina wouldn't have a gown like those.

“I've never seen so many fine ladies in my life,” he muttered.

“Yet you've not seen the
finest
, have you?” Charlotte teased.

He smiled, still scanning the crowd for his heart. “I didn't expect Minnie to be tardy.”

Charlotte tilted her head and studied him. “Tardy? No, I told our coachman to deliver her late. I wish for Mina to make an entrance.” She smiled at Will. “I no longer make entrances, as Will dislikes to be late. You will learn, Seth. A lady requires significant time to present herself suitably to the world. I have even adjusted my morning toilette so I may breakfast with my husband. But there is no help for it. Will rises at an ungodly hour. I have had to adjust, lest I rush my maid, and I cannot be seen as a dowdy…”

Seth nodded dumbly as Charlotte chatted on. She might be the one person of his acquaintance that could outtalk him.

“…imagine the entrance she will make.” She bounced a little. “Oh, I
cannot wait
to see her.” Charlotte clapped her gloved hands together, signaling the end of her monologue.

Seth was still nodding but stopped when he saw Will's amused and knowing grin. “An entrance is it?” He needed to add something to the conversation.

Fine ladies did such things, he supposed, so he'd better get used to that. And he didn't think getting used to anything Mina did would be any hardship at all.

Will narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his wife. “Charlotte? I know that smile. What did you do?”

She blinked those violet eyes innocently. “I cannot know what you mean. Do you accuse me of something?”

Will held the suspicious look on his wife, and her composure broke in the next second with her smile. “You mustn't make me confess, Will. At least not in Seth's hearing.”

Will grinned and pulled Charlotte into his arms. “Whisper your secret to me, then.”

The lady cupped her hand over his ear and confessed, and Will's smile widened. “That was a wonderful idea, sweetheart. Thank you.”

Charlotte blushed under her husband's nuzzling kiss, and Seth had to avert his eyes. He might only be a hired explorer from Matlock, but he knew enough to know that sort of public loving wasn't proper.

And Will and Charlotte weren't looking as if they were stopping anytime soon.

He cleared his throat loudly, and they broke apart slowly. Damned if he wasn't envious of all they had. They were in love and had a fine, healthy baby, a home with a library full of books, and not a day's worry over money. And Charlotte had herself a dress prettier than the daffodils.


There
you young people are.” The grandest lady of his acquaintance, Marchioness Wynston, appeared, her footman trailing her with a small dog in his arms. “I am vastly relieved. No one will persuade me London Society does not grow more tiresome with each passing year.”

Marchioness Wynston was a favorite of his. Great aunt to little Aimee, rich from several dead and devoted husbands and sons. And the bona fide Worst Flirt in England.

They got on like a house on fire.

“I offer every thanks to you, Mr. Mayhew, and you, William, for presenting two examples of masculine beauty for my weary eyes to rest upon. You have salvaged what would otherwise be an excruciating afternoon. I am rather accustomed to William's brooding beauty, of course, but I am finding the novelty of another handsome explorer today quite delightful. You polish up rather nicely, Mr. Mayhew.”

Seth grinned. “Put on my best, knowing I'd be seeing you, m'lady. You're looking as splendid as ever.”

“Lies do make the angels weep, young man.” But the grand lady smiled at him under a bonnet of sweeping plumes. “But yes, my chapeau is much admired. One does make an effort, as there is no place so ridiculously fastidious as a London flower show. I only attend today for the auction. I am desperately curious to see how wealthy the cattle make you today.”

His heart stuttered. Wealthy? Damned if “wealthy” wouldn't be the answer to every one of his problems. “I just hope they're inclined to buy.”

“Have no fear, young man,” Lady Wynston said. “I see a number who will scrape and claw to prove themselves sufficiently deep of pocket to possess one of your rare plants. I do not even need to turn my head to spy them, which is fortunate, as this fashion for high collars impedes me in every way. I blame the Queen, naturally, and her unfortunate chin, but that is neither here nor there.

“Look there. Elmore is quite the orchid enthusiast. I've no doubt he'll bid on them all. And I shall begrudge him any win, as he is the very devil.” She fanned herself, her eyes sweeping the crowd. “And there is Louisa. How fortunate for you. She will no doubt spend a great amount, though she has no particular interest in the botanical arts.”

“Then why would she?” Seth asked.

“She is one of those creatures who is
not happy with her husband
, Mr. Mayhew. And has not been going on five and twenty years now, much to the detriment of her husband's purse. But she is well in the right there—the man is odious.” She hoisted a brow. “And where is your sweetheart that I have yet to meet? Everyone speaks of her with such rapture.”

“I expect Minnie will—”

“Minnie?”

“That's the name I call her.”


Minnie?
Good heavens, why? I will not call her any such thing.”

He grinned. “I wouldn't like it if you did, m'lady. That name's mine alone.”

She fanned herself, looking coyly at him. “How thrillingly possessive. Where is this Wilhelmina?”

“Charlotte says she's to make an entrance,” he said.

“Ah, naturally,” she murmured approvingly.

“Oh, there she is, by the gate,” Charlotte exclaimed behind him.

He turned, eager for the sight of her.

Only her face and shining hair were visible in the crush of people milling and flowing in front of her. But their eyes met, and Mina's smile stirred up the madman's chant:
three thousand, three thousand, three thousand…

She wended her way toward him. The bodies in her path parted like a curtain to let him see her.

But he'd never seen her like this.

A begonia. That was the flower she'd come dressed as. Her dress was coral red but shimmered gold like a dragonfly's wing where the sun lit her. Her skirt floated around her like a cloud beneath her tiny waist, and sweet roses trimmed her bosom.

No bonnet on his Mina, nothing to hide all her beauty. He'd never seen her hair like that—falling in long, twisting curls from the crown of her head like a princess.

She was a rare one. And extraordinary. And like his Wilhelmina orchid, revealing herself in all her glory the very moment he turned toward her. And he'd found her. And the most wondrous thing of all…she'd found him right back.

Thank you, God. You weren't done with your gifts, were you?

He couldn't stop the huge smile from stretching across his face. “Excuse me. I see the lady now.”

He hurried to join her, seeing Mary, Sebastian, and Emma then, too. But he wasn't ever inclined to take his eyes off Mina.

Her eyes widened when she saw him coming. Damned if she didn't blush. His step might have gained a little swagger at that.

“My goodness, Seth,” she whispered. “You look so handsome.”

He was wearing the same coat she'd seen him in a dozen times before, but she looked at him like he'd come from a tailor on Piccadilly. He opened his mouth to speak. Then had to try again. But he had to take her hand first to settle his heart. “I…uh…”

She moved closer and took his hand with both of hers. And there wasn't anything that needed saying.

“What are you grateful for today?” she whispered.

“Everything,” he said, his voice hoarse with feeling. “All of it. You in that dress. Your blush. The way you look at me.” He lifted her hand to press his kiss to her palm. “Thank you.”

But it wasn't just Mina he was thanking.

He raised his head to smile at Mary and Emma. “Ladies, forgive me. I'm real pleased to see you all. There's not a happier man in all of London.”

“We wanted to be here,” Emma said. “I think it disgusting what those nurserymen—”


Emma
.” Mary placed her hand on Emma's arm. “Undoubtedly, we share your sentiments but they serve no purpose here.”

Mina tightened her hold on his hand, a flicker of something like pain sweeping her face, and guilt pierced him like an arrow. But he couldn't tell her about the eighty-five percent. Not yet.

If he made the three thousand, he could surprise her. Watch her composed, capable, orderly self toss off all that seriousness and whoop with joy at the future she and all her sisters were going to have.

Three thousand. And nothing and no one would ever take her from him again. And if he didn't…

Well. He couldn't think on that right now.

“What a beautiful day this is,” Mina said, as they strolled from her sisters and deeper into the garden behind Chiswick House. They walked along the stream, leaving the crowd behind.

“The skies could be storming and streaked with lighting, and I wouldn't count any other day finer than this one. You look so beautiful, Minnie.”

She smiled, resting her cheek against his arm for just a moment before they drew too much attention. And when she raised her head, her eyes were wet. “This dress was a gift from Charlotte. Can you even imagine such a thing?”

Seth fished for his pocket handkerchief to dry her eyes, his heart too full to say anything. He was grateful to Charlotte, but he wanted to be the one to give Mina what she needed. And more. Give her what she wanted, so an act of kindness wouldn't make her cry like this. Because his Mina was meant to be calm and composed and—

A sob burst from her. “I don't understand it. A woman like Charlotte, giving me a gown like this.
And
she sent her maid to do my hair.
And
slippers to match.” She blinked against tears. “
Slippers. Look.
And now I'm going to cry again.”

He fumbled with the handkerchief, and she accepted with a watery smile. Mina was feeling a lot today.

Well…hell. So was he.

“Aw, pretty.” He drew her into his arms, keeping his back to the flower show attendees to give her a little privacy.

She sniffed, burrowing deeper into his coat. “I never expected… Charlotte said the idea came to her the minute she met me.” She pulled a little ways out of his arms, which he didn't like at all. “Oh! I think I should thank her again right now.”

He didn't let her go. “Not just now, Minnie,” he murmured. “I'm thinking she won't mind your giving me a little of your time first.”

And Mina, without a worry to wrinkling her fancy gown, or upsetting her careful hair, or even drawing the attention of the high born all around them, slid her arms around his waist and crushed herself fully against him. “You're right. I'm sorry,” she breathed. “I'm not thinking clearly. I couldn't sleep at all last night.”

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