Miss Simpkins School: Flora (3 page)

“Only almost, my lord? How sad, I was aiming for totally.” She kept her voice light. “Next time perhaps.” She held her breath.
Pfft, I seem to be doing a lot of this silly, second-guessing, waiting and scarcely breathing rubbish. I hope it isn’t needed for long.
Trying to be a femme fatale was wearying. Would he continue with what Molly had described as sex-banter? Flora had never been so bold before, and had no idea how Fraser would respond.

“What game are you playing?” Fraser stopped next to the door Flora had aimed for.

“Game?” She did her best to look innocent. By the way his eyes narrowed and gleamed, Flora wasn’t sure she’d succeeded. “No game, my lord, I assure you.” She moved her legs to make the gown fall in the way Molly had described. It showed a flash of leg and garter through one very fine layer of cloth.

Fraser’s grip on her arm tightened and he laughed softly. “Playing with fire, Flora. Are you sure you want to carry on? I don’t know why you’re doing this or what your aim is, but for now, let’s see? Perhaps we should adjourn elsewhere for a while?” He opened the door next to them, and propelled her forward along a short corridor toward an exit at the far end. “Through here.”

Once more Flora found her arm held in an iron grip as he opened this door, walked them into a small and comfortably furnished parlor, and turned the key in the lock. “It’s to be hoped no one else has the same ideas, but at least they won’t come in and surprise us.” He walked to the windows, checked the bolts, and drew the curtains. The room was in shadow, but Flora could see enough to watch him light the lamp and adjust the wick so a soft glow bathed the area.

Even though it had been her intention to end up in the spot they occupied, Flora’s hands were clammy. What on earth made her think she could seduce a man of such experience?

“Now, where were we?” He leaned against the wall and looked at her. “Did you say something, my dear?”

She shook her head. “Nothing at all. Why are we here? Won’t we be missed?” She couldn’t do it. Fraser was so worldly, so blatantly male, and such a virile looking man that her mouth was dry. She wanted him, and wished she did have the courage to act. What if he laughed, and turned her offers down? What then? Flora didn’t think she’d be able to bear it.

“Who knows?” He shrugged. “We’re about to be wed, people will talk until something else takes their attention. As you won’t be in London that often, it matters little. Tonnish news doesn’t hold much sway at Kilfron, and the Glasgow assemblies are not that inspiring to make me desire to attend. So, my dear, I dare you to finish what you almost started.”

His almost uninterested indifference stung, as did his blatant words saying she wouldn’t be in the capital often, but didn’t say the same thing about himself.

“That is just what is not going to happen,” she said with a snap. “Not in my marriage.” Flora paced across the room. “I want it all.” She stopped in front of Fraser, who was staring at her as if she had sprouted horns. “What?” she said abruptly, amazed at her temerity. Being open and forthright wasn’t something she had practiced with him before. “Why are you staring at me?”

He grinned. “You make no sense, my dear. What isn’t going to happen? That we live in Kilfron? Of course it will. It’s my family seat, somewhere we both know and love. Somewhere for our children to grow up and learn their heritage. You’ll be happy there, and I won’t worry about you.”

He sounded so definite that Flora’s ire increased. How dare he? Yes, it may be the way of their world, but she couldn’t accept it. Now she had to try and show Fraser that. However he hadn’t finished. Before she had a chance to comment he continued.

“Or do you mean that you won’t finish what you started? Such a pity, I never knew you had fire in your blood. I wonder how it will show itself, or if it had been doused at the first hint of a challenge?” His eyes sparkled and mocked her, and he smiled in a way designed to make her itch to slap him.

She balled her hands into fists and bit her tongue. It wasn’t the time to act like a fishwife, but really, she could shout and scream at his attitude. All of a sudden Flora decided enough was enough. He spoke as if everything was cut and dried. Not to her it wasn’t.

“Oh never that, my lord, never that. You really have no idea of who I am, do you? I will not be dismissed to molder in Scotland whilst you live the high life in other places. I have no taste for cast offs, and if your cock is welcomed elsewhere, it will not then return to me to plant its seed. I’m worth more than that.” She was on a roll now; proud of how she hadn’t stumbled or stuttered over the crude expression, and gloried in the feeling of freedom as she spoke. Who knew that to utter such words could be so liberating? “I’ve discovered I don’t back away from a challenge, but do you know? I have also discovered I’m capable of issuing one. So I’m declining your kind proposal of marriage.”

She watched as his eyes widened and his lips quirked in what she hoped was appreciation of her words. As elegant as a cat, he walked over to her and stood, his body just brushing hers. She gulped. His scent surrounded her and his breath was warm on her neck. It almost made her lose her train of thought. “Until you show me why marriage to you is better than a cottage in the country, and cats,” she finished in a rush.

Flora swallowed hard, and wondered where that impassioned speech had come from? As she clenched her hands in her skirts, Fraser’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you mean by all that?” he asked in a soft tone, and ran his finger from her neck to the top of her gown. His nail scraped her skin and set off a chain of tingles through her. “Elucidate.” One finger skimmed under the very low neckline, stroked the top of her areolae, and brushed over her nipple. The jolt to her senses made her gasp. It felt so very different from when she did that to herself.

A thump in the corridor outside the door, and a giggle made her jump. The petulant tones of a debutante came clearly through the wood as she protested the corridor was narrow, and the library in the other direction. It was followed by the deeper tones of a man, and then a scratching noise as the door latch was moved.

“Locked,” said the male voice again. “We need to go elsewhere.”

The interruption brought Flora up short. What on earth was she doing? To try and seduce a man of the world was bad enough, but at a ball? What if the door hadn’t been fastened? It was all well and good, being brave and bold, but not foolhardy. If things went her way, the last thing she needed was to be ruined. She looked up at Fraser, who stood quiet and still, just watching her. He added a second finger to his first and pinched her nipple gently. The extra pressure made her pant, and her channel muscles clench.

There was another assault on the door, and then the sound of footsteps as whoever it was moved away. Fraser withdrew his digits and took her chin in his hand to hold her face at an angle where she was staring straight into his glittering eyes. “Well?”

Flora lost her intrepidity. “No,” she said baldly, and with a wild glance at the door, turned toward the long glass windows that opened into the garden. “I can’t.”

Chapter Four

“I lost my nerve,” Flora said as she held a glass of wine in hands that trembled and sent the liquid dangerously near the rim of the goblet. “I told him I wouldn’t marry him on his terms, and then didn’t rise to the challenge, in either stating my intentions or showing them, even though I said I would. I’m a mouse. I was so sure of what I wanted and how I would go about it, and then he looked just so, and I couldn’t do it. I ran. How pitiful am I? The moment he challenged me I backed down.”

She took a gulp of her wine. The warmth of its rich flavor was perfect for her mood. Flora realized it would take little to make her bosky. “I ran. Into the garden, and then to the ladies’ withdrawing room, where I fabricated a headache and went home. Goodness knows what happened, except I expect he went to Lady Senton for release.” She giggled unexpectedly. “I did notice his staff was somewhat, well, staff like. For all the good it did me. He will think me a silly woman who can’t make up her mind what she wants. One minute bold and confident, the next cowering and pathetic. Now he’ll never take me seriously.” She shook her head. “Molly, how could I be so brainless? To have such an opportunity, and not take it? He was interested, I know he was, but when push came to shove, I couldn’t carry through. I felt stupid. And you know, added to it all was the fear of being found. It seems I’m not as bold and daring as I thought. Now I’m truly at a loss to make him understand how I feel. I failed at seduction, and he probably thinks of me as a nonentity.” She sighed.

Flora had been excited when Fraser had looked at her with that predatory gleam in his eye. She’d never seen it directed at herself before and it had sent all sorts of new and interesting sensations through her body. She remembered how her quim had rippled with tiny stings across it, and her inner muscles clenched and relaxed in wave after wave of something just out of reach that she knew would be overwhelming. To her amazement, that one look had stayed with her, and Flora had given herself release once she reached the privacy of her bedchamber later that night.

“Do you want him to?” Molly asked her. “To listen to you, and take you seriously.”

Did she? “Oh yes.”

“And are you willing to show him? Bare your mind and body? Show him how his presence affects you, let him touch you, run his fingers into your channel and feel the evidence? Do all the things we spoke of?”

Flora nodded, and thought how strange, and good it was to be able to speak so freely about things that weren’t ever discussed. “I’ve thought it over and over, Molly. I was fine—well no, not fine, but almost fine—until I heard someone outside the room. Even though I knew the door was locked, I wanted; well I wanted to know we were safe. I suppose in some strange way, I wanted romance. To feel his body hard and soft next to mine, and feel him tremble if I kissed him. To be able to lay back, or whatever and experience every nuance of his touch on me, and not worry. As much as I was sure he had locked the door, and would do all that was right and good, I couldn’t relax. To get the romance I needed that, and to know I could concentrate on how I felt and what I was doing with all of me. Not with half of me waiting for a knock on the door, or a rattle at the window. Anyway,” she added in a defiant tone. “I want my first time of se...lo…oh dammit, of fucking, to be perfect.”

“Then this is what you’ll do.” Molly took the glass from Flora and set it on the table. “And you’ll do it with a clear head and no false courage.”

Flora nodded. “I am so annoyed with myself. I used explicit language, saw the way he responded, and still did nothing. Well not again. I have to show him I’m not to be trifled with. How am I going to achieve that?”

“Like this.”

***

Fraser, the Earl of Kilfron, dismissed his valet and stretched his arms high to get rid of the aches and pains gathered from a day of gentlemanly pursuits to be found in the capital. He’d be glad when it was time to return to Kilfron for a while. However, first he had to secure his bride. Not for the first time, he wondered about the scene at the Markham Ball that had ended so abruptly—just when it had been getting interesting.

What had Flora intended? The sight of her in that delectable dress, so barely covering her breasts, had caused his cock to stiffen to the point of pain, and he’d wanted nothing more than to forget where they were, and who she was, and show her what effect she had on him. When he touched her nipple, she’d responded so perfectly, it had taken all of his resolve not the lift her skirts over her head, bend her over the chair back, and fuck her from behind. Only the wonder of how far she was prepared to go had stopped him. He was enjoying himself, and interested to see what his innocent wife-to-be really wanted. More than once he doubted John’s assurance that Flora was meek and biddable. Her hair gave lie to that, apart from anything else. She’d never been overly amenable as a child, so why John supposed otherwise now Fraser couldn’t fathom.

Instead of continuing his voyage of discovery, that idiot Parry had wandered along the corridor, and Flora had bolted. Fraser had been so wound up he’d left the ball without taking up Lady Senton’s blatant offer and given himself release instead. He was going to have to do something about that situation. His mistresses were for physical release, and mutual gratification, not for smothering him. Lady Senton was beginning to get all too proprietary, and he knew that wasn’t for him. She had been fun, and he had a true affection for her. Her elderly husband knew of the affair, and had told Fraser one drunken evening that he was pleased his wife was getting satisfaction as he wasn’t able to give it to her. Which was all well and good, but Fraser had told her on more than one occasion that the affair would end when he married. It seemed she didn’t believe him.

Fraser had been told he was cold and heartless by many a person, but he knew it wasn’t true. He had proper affection for anyone he bedded, and truth be told, abhorred the way men married and still went elsewhere other than their wife for satisfaction. It may be the way of the ton, but it wasn’t his way. Once wed, he intended to be faithful to his wife, and she to him. So why, he mused as he washed and tugged a banyan over his head, had he spouted such rubbish to Flora? Just because her brother said she understood and accepted life was thus?

I’m an idiot. First for not telling her how I feel, and second for not showing her. Third for not explaining how I wanted our life to be, and fourth
—he winced at one particular bruise inflicted in Jackson’s Boxing Salon—
fourth for not dodging that blow from Carruthers.

Fraser shook his head at his folly, and went back into the sitting room adjacent to his bedchamber. Newton, his valet, had left port and brandy on a side table next to the fire that still burned in the grate. He poured a modest amount of brandy into a snifter. He had a lot of thinking to do, and needed a clear head. Fraser slumped into a chair and rested his chin on his chest with his brandy glass held loosely between his fingers. How could he persuade Flora to be open and tell him how she felt, especially when he hadn’t given her the same courtesy? It was a dilemma, and one he couldn’t fathom out how to solve. He closed his eyes the better to think.