Virtue and Vice (8 page)

Blast the wench! He was close to seeing to his own need in the privacy of his chamber, something he hadn’t been reduced to in ages.

He did battle in his own mind as well, for he knew she’d be awaiting him by the riverbank tomorrow at noon, as she’d promised. If it was a fuck she was after, his body was willing and able to oblige.

But he couldn’t forget, for even one moment, who and what she was. If he fell into that particular trap he’d be ensnared for the rest of his life. He’d keep his cock in his breeches where it belonged and to the devil with Izzy Beaumont.

Just as he was tossing back his whisky, Hawthorne coughed discreetly from the open door to the study. Ram turned an evil glare on the man for disturbing his seething. Hawthorne ignored the look as only a servant who’d been with them since Ram was a lad could do. He never really was cowed by Ram’s aristocratic glares.

Ram sighed. “Aye, Hawthorne?”

“You have a caller, my lord.”

“Well, send whoever it is away. I’m not fit company for my horse at the moment.”

Hawthorne coughed again. “Sir? ‘Tis a woman, a lady, and she’s here
alone
.” The last word was whispered.

Ram’s eyebrows rose into his hairline. It was inappropriate for any woman to visit a gentleman unaccompanied, let alone a lady. There was only one lady of his recent acquaintance he knew for sure didn’t care about the rules of propriety.

Could it be Izzy? Did she know who he really was?

His heart leapt, but he forced the rush of happiness down with ruthlessness. It didn’t matter if it was Izzy, he was done with her. He’d not be marrying her, nor carrying on with her in any other way.

But curiosity got the better of him. “Show her in, Hawthorne.”

As he waited he straightened his clothing and ran a hand through his hair. And hoped the whisky hadn’t made his eyes too red rimmed. When Hawthorne appeared at the door, it wasn’t Izzy he presented. Ram’s heart sank, much to his dismay.

It was the woman who’d found him with Izzy in the woods earlier in the day. She was of medium height with dark blonde hair, but there was no mistaking the delicate tilt of her nose. She was without a doubt a relation of Izzy’s. Her cousin, wasn’t that what Izzy had hissed to him?             

“What can I do for you, Miss…?”

“Spencer. Miss Belinda Spencer.”

“Well, Miss Spencer, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

She clasped her hands together in a gesture that bespoke nervousness. “I realize this is rather inappropriate, but I had to see you and find out if my suspicions were correct.” She met his gaze directly. “I see they were.”             

He folded his arms across his chest, waiting for her to continue.

“Izzy is my cousin.” She seemed to wait for some reaction to her words, but Ram only stared. He was in a piss-poor mood and wouldn’t make this easy for her, especially since he’d already figured out who she was.

With a deep sigh, she continued. “I spoke with Izzy this morning. And when she told me your name was Julian James, I found it highly coincidental the name she called you by happened to be the middle names of Ramsay Maitland, her betrothed. It crossed my mind you might be keeping your identity from her, so I came to see for myself.”

Ram started. He’d kept his identity secret from
her?
It was without a doubt the other way around. “Miss Spencer, I had no idea who Izzy was until you called her by her full name. Until that moment I never dreamed she was in fact my betrothed.”

“Then, what were you doing with her?” Her brow furrowed.

He stared, wondering how blunt to be. Unfolding his arms from his chest, he took a step forward. “I came upon her on my way to the May Day festivities. She was dressed as a peasant wench and quite comely. I sought only an afternoon of pleasant entertainment, nothing more.”

He should have felt shame as he watched Miss Spencer’s cheeks turn pink, but instead took perverse pleasure in it. His fury with Izzy extended to all those associated with her. “Let me ask you, Miss Spencer. Does Izzy know who I really am?”

He held his breath, hoping she would answer in the affirmative, for it might make everything different if Izzy had been playing a game, dabbling with a man she knew would be her husband in a matter of weeks. He didn’t care for women’s ruses, and it would rankle to know she’d played him for her amusement, but it would make what she’d done forgivable at least.

Miss Spencer shook her head, dashing his hopes.

He straightened himself to his full height. “Miss Spencer, I don’t mean to take my anger out on you. But the wedding will be called off as soon as my father returns. I cannot possibly marry a woman who carries on as your cousin has done these two days past.”

He’d thought Izzy’s cousin a shy and mousy girl, but she puffed up in outrage at his comment. “I notice it hardly factors in that you were carrying on with a woman you didn’t know to be your betrothed either.”

“Touché, Miss Spencer. But you and I know it’s a very different world for women and men. I don’t run the risk of quickening with a stranger’s child, do I?”

Miss Spencer crossed her arms over her chest. “Izzy runs no risk of bringing another man’s child to your wedding bed. She’s a virgin.”

Ram snorted. “The woman who rolled in the grass with me today is no virgin.”

Her jaw dropped.

He’d shocked her. Gentlemen didn’t speak to ladies in such a manner. It was almost amusing to watch prim Miss Spencer try to recover her composure. But recover it she did and she went on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Izzy is very much against this marriage. She feels trapped. And after reading the marriage contract she concluded the only way to avoid the marriage was to give her virtue away to the first man who would take it- which, by the greatest of coincidences, happened to be
you
.”

He blinked.
That was her brilliant idea?

That a woman might go to such extremes to avoid marriage shocked Ram, nor was he quite convinced of it. It wasn’t that he had an overblown opinion of his own worth, but he knew what women wanted from marriage and he
would
be an earl someday, after all. A very rich earl.

Miss Spencer paced back and forth, oblivious to the doubts she’d stirred up. “It is
almost
humorous. But unless
you
have taken it, her virginity is still very much intact.”

He tried to ignore the hope creeping over him at her words. If ‘twas true and Izzy really was a virgin, the wedding could go forth as planned. Except…Miss Spencer’s words pricked his pride.

“Why is she so set against marriage to me?”

Miss Spencer stared at him for a few moments, obviously contemplating what to reveal. “Where should I begin?”

He started, then laughed. “Am I so bad, then?”

Miss Spencer grimaced. “What I tell you stays between the two of us?”

Ram nodded.

“First of all, Izzy is fiercely loyal to the King and the idea of marrying into a Parliamentarian family doesn’t appeal to her. Secondly, her father always made it clear the choice of husband would be hers alone to make. And the biggest obstacle to your marriage is that Izzy fancies herself in love with another man. She’s sworn to wait for him to come back for her as he promised.”

He could understand the first two points Miss Spencer raised, though the idea of an aristocratic woman choosing her own husband was nearly unheard of. But as he absorbed the third point raised by Miss Spencer, a foreign emotion overcame him. Jealousy. The very thought of the woman he’d held in his arms that morning loving another man was enough to make him want to marry her and treat her so well, enslave her with passion and love, she’d forget any other man even existed but him.

“Who is the man she thinks she loves?”

“My lord, I don’t see how that matters.”

“It matters.”

Miss Spencer sighed. “Sir Paul Huntley.”

“Huntley? Good God, you can’t be serious. The man is a peacock and a philandering libertine to boot!”

“I know.” Miss Spencer’s voice was very soft, and Ram began to understand.

“You are against this relationship with Huntley?”

She nodded. “He’ll only hurt her.”

“So you support her marriage to me?” He narrowed his eyes, awaiting her response.

“My lord, I don’t know you. I only know I trust Izzy’s father, as he’s been like a father to me most of my life. He would never do anything to harm her, and if he has chosen you, then I support that decision. But even more importantly, I spoke of you with Izzy this morn and it was quite clear she genuinely likes you, despite her feelings for Paul, and that gives me tremendous hope.”

Ram was dumfounded at both her trust in her uncle and loyalty to her cousin. In his experience, trust and loyalty were absent in most women. That she had both characteristics made the woman before him his closest ally, if he wanted one, for she was the person who knew Izzy best and could therefore be an incredible asset in bringing his errant betrothed to heel. His poor mood began slipping away.

“You’ve come here to ask me to not beg off from the marriage?” Was he really considering going through with this? He had come to Cornwall to find a way to avoid a wedding at all costs, yet now the thought of marriage…wasn’t so dreadful.

“Aye, I have.”

“Have you any advice that might help me in my pursuit of your cousin?”

Miss Spencer chewed her lip for a moment, much in the same way Izzy did.

“There are two things I can think to tell you. First of all, Izzy knows she is beautiful-”

Ram snorted. “Of course she knows that.”

“You didn’t let me finish, my lord. Izzy knows she’s beautiful, but she accepts it just as she accepts her eyes are blue. So waxing poetic about her beauty is not likely to win her heart. She’d rather be loved for who she is, rather than for the way she looks.”

Ram nodded. “And the second thing?”

Miss Spencer’s lips pursed. “Izzy is very loyal. Once someone wins Izzy’s love and friendship, there is nothing she won’t do for that person. So do not disparage anyone Izzy loves; not the King, not her family, nor Huntley. Especially not Huntley. She’ll not forgive a slight against someone important to her.”

Izzy’s regard for Huntley was irritating, yet if she was as loyal as her cousin claimed, that would be no bad thing. He only needed to show her why he’d be a better choice for marriage that Sir Paul Huntley.

Miss Spencer’s hands clutched together again, as though there was something else she wanted to say that discomfited her. He respected the courage she’d displayed thus far, so he belatedly attempted civility. “Is there something else you would ask of me?”

Once again, Miss Spencer blushed a becoming pink color. “I ask you to spare Izzy’s virginity until the wedding night. If she thinks she has
any
reason to call the wedding off, she’ll go to her father and tell him bluntly of what she’s done. And as there will be no blood on the sheets…well, you understand what I’m saying.”

He nodded, wanting to put her mind at ease now that she was a collaborator. “I’ll string her along until the wedding. I can’t say she’ll be happy when she discovers the deception, but as there will be no other reason to call the wedding off, she’ll be forced to go along with it.”

Relief crossed Miss Spencer’s face and she smiled, a grin that lit up her entire face, turning her from plain into pretty.

“You have my gratitude, my lord.”

“And you have my thanks for bringing me these tidings.”

She nodded. “I must go. It’s inappropriate for me to be here, and I wouldn’t want word to get back to Izzy.”

He took her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Return to your cousin. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Chapter 7

Stomach clenching with anxiety, Izzy waited at the riverbank, dressed in the same clothing as the day before. Would Julian show for their rendezvous? Not only did she need him to help escape the bonds of matrimony, she’d missed him.

She couldn’t stop thinking of the things he’d done to her yesterday! Her breathing grew strained as she recalled the way her body shattered when he’d pleasured her so completely. She was ready for a repeat performance, and so much more.

So it was with great relief when she heard the sound of a horse nickering and knew she would see Mercury and his master appear any moment. Her pulse raced faster. Horse and rider crested a hill and she smiled, waving.

Instead of dismounting as she expected, Julian pulled the horse to her side and held out his hand. Without a second thought she put her hand in his and let him hoist her into the saddle before him. As in the first time they’d ridden together, it was a tight fit, but she felt no discomfiture this time pressed so intimately against his solid body.

“Where do we go?” she gasped in excitement.

Before answering, Julian put one hand under her chin, tipping her head back to claim her lips for a scorching kiss. Every muscle in her body turned to jelly as she melted against him.

He pulled back with a look of such desire in his eyes, her heart leapt

“Hullo.”

His eyes were a stormy grey, his dark skin setting off the white of his teeth as he smiled at her. 

“Good morn,” she breathed back.

He grinned, tightening his arms about her, and she turned back around as the horse continued on.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Trust you not to debauch me in the most evil of ways? Absolutely not!”

She giggled at the look on his face, but he responded with a simple, “Smart girl.”

“I mean it, Julian!” She tugged on his sleeve. “Where are we going?”

“To a place with more privacy than the river bank. ‘Twill make the debauchery that much easier and far more delicious.” She looked back in time to see him waggle his eyebrows suggestively.

Her heart began to pound and unfamiliar moisture pooled between her legs.
So this was desire!
She couldn’t believe she could be so wanton.

She frowned. Paul had never inspired this kind of desire in her. Did that mean something? Her inner voice argued that Paul was simply too much of a gentleman to take such liberties with her, and Julian was brazen. It was that, and the illicitness of the affair that excited her. It must be so.

They traveled in a companionable silence away from the river until a small, ramshackle round stone hut came into view. The thatch on the roof needed replacing, but it appeared a stable enough building. It looked long abandoned. As Julian tied Mercury to a tree and left him to graze, then led her inside, she could see someone, probably Julian himself, had been there recently and readied it for their arrival. There were fresh logs in the hearth and a flagon of wine and two pewter goblets had been set upon a wooden table. Izzy’s glance immediately went to the small pallet against the back wall. It was obvious the ticking had recently been replaced and clean white sheets adorned it.

She swallowed hard.

Julian motioned about the hut with a hand. “Does this please you? I thought it might be best to stay indoors, where people can’t surprise us as your cousin did, yesterday.”

“You did all this for me?”

“Well, not all for you. I have plans of my own, you see.” He waggled those raven brows again. She couldn’t keep from laughing.

“This is perfect, Julian. Truly.”

“Good.” His voice had turned silky. What she was beginning to call the “I’m about to kiss you look” crossed his face.

He stepped to her side and cradled her cheek with his hand, lifting her mouth to his. As before, as soon as their mouths fused, a conflagration exploded between them, like a spark set to gunpowder. Helpless to resist, he swept her off to that heavenly place his kisses took her. Her nipples went taut as she pressed herself against him with a gasp.

Julian bent and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the pallet, where he gently laid her upon it. Her pulse slammed in her veins with both excitement and fear of the unknown. He would take her virginity on this pallet.

His hands were everywhere at once, in her hair, cradling her face, sliding down her body. He divested her of the linen shirt and bent his head to her breasts, worshipping them the way he’d done yesterday.

She slipped her hands under his linen shirt, wanting to see all of him, taste him, as he tasted her. His hands joined hers to facilitate the removal of the garment and then he lay next to her, bronzed and magnificent. A shudder escaped as she inspected the hard planes of his chest, his wonderfully wide shoulders, the ridged muscles of his belly leading down to the waistband of his breeches. With one fingertip she traced the dips and ridges before her, running it across his shoulder and down his arm, then across his stomach and back up to his pectoral. His muscles jumped beneath her light touch and his breathing grew heavy but he held still and allowed her to explore.

Curiosity to discover what lay beneath his breeches gnawed at her, but she wasn’t quite brave enough yet to reach so boldly for him. Instead, she leaned over and flicked her tongue against his nipple, surprised when he sucked in his breath, hard. It delighted her that he liked that as much as she liked when he did it to her.

Her hands slid up his chest, over his strong shoulders, reveling in the feel of his warm flesh and the dark hairs on his forearms that tickled her hands on their journey. She wrapped her arms around to his back, feeling the muscles there flexing in response to her touch, and tugged at him, pulling him over her so she could kiss him again.

It was as if he’d been holding himself back during her exploration, because the moment their mouths met again, he took control. Cupping her breasts, he rolled her nipples between his fingers as his tongue forced its way deeper into her mouth.

Then his hands floated downward and she knew he was about to remove her breeches. For an instant she stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing upon her along with the magnitude of the moment, and the choice she’d made to do this insane thing. Except, remembering his gentle touch of yesterday, her anxiety dissolved and she gave herself over to his worshipping hands.

After removing her boots, he peeled the breeches down her legs in an agonizingly slow manner, almost as if he were taking his time unwrapping a much anticipated gift. As the cool air in the hut blew over her, emphasizing the wetness between her legs, shyness struck her and she couldn’t meet his eyes and stared at his full lips instead. But when he removed the breeches he gazed down at her nude body with such reverence and desire, the shyness faded and she reveled in her nakedness, suddenly emboldened and alive. Powerful. Heat burned in his eyes and she wanted, nay needed, every part of his body pressed against hers. She put her arms out, beckoning him to her, and he returned to capture her lips.

Then his mouth was gone, slowly making its way around to her ear, where he used the tip of his tongue to lick circles around her sensitive flesh before drawing her earlobe into his mouth and suckling. She arched beneath him at the contact.
Who knew earlobes could be so sensitive?

His lips continued their path, nibbling at the pulsing vein in her throat, before laving kisses in the hollow at the base of her neck. As he drew nearer to her breasts, her anticipation grew so great she couldn’t contain a low moan of need. He chuckled against her skin. Oh, he knew what she wanted, but he meant to tease. Someday soon, she’d pay him back in kind for this sweet torment.

And then he drew the crest of her breast into his mouth and all thought of vengeance fled, replaced only with sensation. Desire traveled down her body directly to that spot between her thighs where heavy moisture leaked anew. His touch left her hot and shivery at the same time.

His hands wrapped around her waist, spanning her front and slowly moving down, his mouth following in their path. When he combed through the curls between her legs, Izzy arched her hips upward, needing his touch so desperately. Her head thrashed on the pillow and she cried his name, urging his hands to move faster, to quench her burning desire faster, even as she wondered if such a desperate need could ever be satisfied.

He didn’t heed her demands. Instead, his hands slid to the inside of her thighs, pushing them apart. She resisted for only a single instant before she surrendered, feeling more vulnerable than ever before in her life. His thumbs crept closer to the place that ached. Her breath hitched with anticipation as she wondered if he would ever touch her where she needed it most.

“Julian, please,” she panted.

He laughed low, a wicked sound that caused a strange flutter in her belly. “Relax, love. I intend to give you everything you need.”

He applied pressure with each thumb between her inner thighs and the swollen flesh between her legs. She moaned with delight. If he didn’t touch her where she most needed it, and soon, she would die.

And then, soft and light, like a gentle breeze in the summer, his breath feathered against her heated skin. She tore her head off the pillow to stare down at him, but at that instant he leaned in, using his tongue in one long slow motion to lick the entire length of her folds.

She gasped and fell back against the pillow, head spinning as this new sensation bombarded her with pleasure even as shock coursed through her at the intimate thing he was doing. Julian slid his hands beneath her buttocks, lifting her, and set to work pleasuring her with his tongue and lips.

She moaned as his tongue slid like fire against her wet flesh in wide, long strokes. The tip delved into her folds until he found that magical spot he’d awakened in her yesterday, laving it with his tongue.

She arched against his mouth, gasping, hands clawing at the sheets beneath her from the sheer pleasure of what he was doing.

Using his lips, he drew the small nub into his mouth and suckled, and she was lost. A crescendo began to build in her body as each breath became uneven and she reached for release in desperation. As he grazed her gently with his teeth, the crescendo built to an intolerable level and finally crashed, and the pleasure splintered throughout her entire body. She cried out in ecstasy.

Julian’s tongue delved deep into her folds as she peaked, lapping up every bit of moisture which escaped as she convulsed inside. His tongue kept time with each spasm and it was too much, she was too sensitized, she couldn’t take anymore of the sweet torment. But his hands held her captive and his mouth feasted on her until she collapsed back onto the bed, unmoving.

For a moment, the only audible sound was the harsh breathing coming from them both. Izzy didn’t have the energy to lift her head from the pillow. Julian moved from between her legs and returned to her side, where he drew her snugly into the crook of his arm, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

Yet even from a haze of satiation she knew he was unsatisfied, his rampant arousal obvious through his breeches. She cursed her naivety, as she didn’t know what to do for him.

When she could gather breath to speak, she turned to him “Julian?”

“Hmm?”

It was hard for her to say the words, but after the intimacy they’d just shared, how could she be ashamed to discuss anything with him?

“Why didn’t you make love to me?”

He raised an eyebrow and a humorous glint lit his eyes. “If that wasn’t making love to you, I don’t know what would be.”

Heat flooded her face, but she held his gaze. “But you weren’t satisfied.”

“Sweetheart, the taste of you coupled with your sweet cries was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever experienced.”

His boldness shocked and titillated at the same time.

His expression softened. “Are you asking if I’m unsatisfied because I didn’t penetrate you and gain release as you did?”

She bit her lip and nodded, knowing her face must be as red as the soldiers’ coats of Cromwell’s New Model Army.

His voice turned husky. “God, I want to bury myself so deep inside you, you have no idea how much. And I will, soon. But it will be so good if we draw this out slowly. I promise, Sweetheart. By the time I finally make love to you fully, the anticipation will take us to heights you’ve never even dreamed of.”

She found it hard to believe, but then again until yesterday she’d never dreamed of the place he’d taken her today. If he said it was best to wait, then she would gladly acquiesce and let him set the pace. As long as he didn’t wait
too
long. Her wedding was approaching as quickly as a runaway carriage, only three weeks from now, and time was fast running out.

***

Ram held Izzy in his arms, the urge to roll over and thrust inside her one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist much longer. It was going to be a long three weeks.

Her passion awed him. The trust she’d given him over her body humbled him. No matter how hard his cock was at this moment, no matter how much his brain berated him for an idiot, no matter how much every muscle quivered with agonized need to bed her right now, he would take his time and do this right. She was to be his bride and deserved to be initiated into lovemaking in the most pleasurable of ways. And if he had to take a dip in the cold river to keep his heated body under control, then he would do so.