How To Rescue A Rake (Book Club Belles Society 3) Page 25

  He sucked gently and felt her arch under him, writhing.

  Her perspiration was sweet, intoxicating, and as he licked it from her skin, Diana’s body responded keenly, stretching and arching. Was she humming? Some sound touched his ears, not much louder than a flutter of butterfly wings.

  It was, he realized, just like his lusty dreams in which she came to his bed. As his wife.

  His wife. Not a hussy.

  She was a lady. Thinking of her mother’s disapproving face was enough to shrink a man’s plums to prunes. “Diana.” Her hasty wriggling had succeeded in slipping the chemise down and freeing her breast. The wet nipple jutted upward enticingly. “We must not.”

  It didn’t even sound convincing in his ears and yet it was his voice, his protest.

  “I told you, I want a lover, Sherry.”

  Nathaniel reached down, meaning to pull her hand out of his breeches, but his fingers brushed her garter instead and then her thigh. He immediately forgot what he’d been aiming for.

  With a grunt he lowered his mouth again to her breast, wild with hunger.

  She made an odd purring sound, her free hand grabbing his hair, her fingers scratching his scalp.

  Lost to reason, he touched her between the thighs, felt her dewy softness rubbing against his palm and then his fingers. He could feel her pulse thudding away, rocking her entire body as he fondled her, exploring, teasing, and tending with slow strokes and quick ones.

  She murmured his name, his hair twisted around her fingers, her other hand tugging on his erection until he thought he would explode.

  When he felt her peak and heard the groans, Nathaniel had to calm his own desires. His heart was racing, his body seized in the grip of raw lust. He wanted to claim her then and there, but that would undo everything he’d been working for these past few days in her company. Even what he had done now was more than he should have.

  But the ice queen had turned into a demanding vixen.

  He kissed her while she still trembled, her mouth open on a small, sharp cry of delight, her eyes closed. He tasted her tongue, sucked on it, licked her lips, lingering over her.

  She was like no one else. He wanted all of her, including her heart, not just possession of her body.

  “The sky will soon be lightening,” he whispered. “I must return you to your hosts, before they send out a search party and have me clapped in irons.”

  “But surely we have ages yet.”

  Nathaniel sighed and gently kissed her brow. “I fear not, my love. I’ve kept you so late it’s early.”

  Yes, it would soon be a new day. New for him in so many wonderful ways.

  * * *

  He delivered her to the lodge and would have come in with her to explain to the others why they were late, but she made him go. A weary-faced footman answered the door and let her in.

  “Lady Plumtre is in the drawing room, madam,” he told her gravely, his eyes coldly disapproving of her tumbled hair. She’d tried, with Nathaniel’s assistance, to put the arrangement of curls back together again and failed miserably. Captain Sherringham wasn’t nearly as skilled at repairing a lady’s disordered wardrobe as she’d imagined he would be. And she was rather pleased about that discovery.

  “Thank you, but I think I’ll go directly to bed. I am dreadfully tired.” Thus, Diana slipped upstairs to her room. It might be rude, but she could not face Elizabeth’s censorious scowl or any prying questions. Not tonight. Nothing should be allowed to spoil the beautiful evening she’d just enjoyed.

  Of course, she might have known that Elizabeth would not let her rest in peace. Knuckles were soon heard on the bedchamber door, and Diana—in the process of changing for bed—was forced to answer the angry tapping.

  “Elizabeth, I am tired. Please, can this wait until morning?”

  “Oh, I’m quite sure you are tired. And it is morning.”

  “Goodness gracious. Is it really?” Diana tried to sound concerned, but unfortunately the music was still playing in her head and Sherry’s kisses were imprinted on her flesh. She was drunk with the joys of discovery.

  “What could you be thinking to ride off alone with him, to willfully separate yourself from us and come back at this hour?”

  “In truth, Elizabeth, I had no notion of the time. I was enjoying myself too much.”

  Her cousin stared, eyes popping. “Your mother will hear of this.”

  Diana sighed. “I expect she will.” But it was too late for her mother to do anything about it. She was far, far away.

  “You knew that he lied, I suppose—about George’s curricle.”

  She felt her cousin’s frosty gaze scraping over her face and looking at the hanging, droopy curls that had been flattened by the exertions of her evening and now dangled untidily against the side of her neck and down to her shoulders. “Not for certain. Not at first.”

  Elizabeth marched around the room, fists clenched at her sides. “What do you suppose Lady Dodsworth and the Viscountess thought of you, gallivanting about with that man? He has a terrible reputation, so I hear. It all came to light this evening, but I cannot say I was surprised. I suspected as much from the beginning. I told Jonty it serves him right for jumping into an association with a man about whom he knew so little, but he would not heed me.”

  “You should not believe gossip, Elizabeth. It is not ladylike.”

  Her cousin whirled around. “How dare you say that to me? How dare you think to tell me anything? The way you behaved tonight has caused me nothing but shame. Oh yes, Lady Dodsworth saw you at the concert. Holding his hand in public and with no engagement between you. Nothing more than an acquaintance of a few weeks. Someone told her you were a Clarendon, and when she approached me, I did not know how to explain and apologize for such behavior.”

  Diana folded her arms. “I am only half a Clarendon,” she pointed out. “I daresay you might blame any wickedness on my father’s blood.” What would Elizabeth do, she wondered, if she knew what else of Nathaniel’s Diana had held that night. More than his hand. Much more.

  “The less said about your father, the better!”

  Walking to the window, Diana opened it wide to let in fresh air. “I should tell you, Elizabeth, that I have known Captain Sherringham a great deal longer than a few weeks.” The confession came out of her mouth before she could think to prevent it. In that instant she wanted to shout her happiness out loud through the window. She wanted people to know. Especially Elizabeth, who thought Diana could not know anyone or anything of interest.

  Her cousin gripped the brass bedpost with straining, clawed fingers. “I knew there was something amiss with that man! He was too full of smiles, too quick to befriend everybody.”

  Diana laughed. “You liked him well enough when you learned of his fortune.”

  “No matter how much money one has, breeding cannot be bought. That was confirmed tonight by his careless, scandalous behavior.”

  “You sound like my mama.” Diana shook her head. “I may as well tell you that I am the woman who once rejected his marriage proposal, a decision I have come to regret since I know now what I gave up and how I allowed myself to be persuaded by the will of others.” She felt the breeze on her face, gentle as his kiss. “But I blame only myself. From now on, choices will be my own, whatever they are and wherever they take me. I’m sorry if that does not comply with your plans for me, but you see, I do have a life of my own and I was born to live it, not to live for anybody else.”

  Elizabeth stood in shocked silence for several moments, and then she walked out and shut the door hard behind her. Diana had no doubt that a letter would immediately be penned to her mother. And before many more days had passed, she would be summoned home.

  Tomorrow would be time enough to worry about that.

  She climbed into bed and stretched with a lusty sigh. Just one more chapter to read be
fore she closed her eyes.

  “I have been thinking over the past, and trying impartially to judge of the right and wrong, I mean with regard to myself; and I must believe that I was right, much as I suffered from it, that I was perfectly right in being guided by the friend whom you will love better than you do now…

  “Do not mistake me, however. I am not saying that she did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event decides; and for myself, I certainly never should, in any circumstance of tolerable similarity, give such advice. But I mean, that I was right in submitting to her…”

  Diana knew that her mother had persuaded her against Nathaniel for sound reasons. She had always known it. She had made a coolheaded decision to reject his proposal, being perfectly sensible for both of them since he could not be.

  But she and Nathaniel were the same people they had been back then. She could no longer keep her heart out of the equation. This rebellion had not begun when she drank too much gooseberry wine, or he came back to Hawcombe Prior, or even when she told William Shaw that she couldn’t marry him.

  It had begun when Nathaniel kissed her under the arches of the Bolt, catching her unawares when she’d thought she had all the facts before her. His kiss had made her realize there was something she’d forgotten. Something she’d left behind that only a reckless, brazen, tree-climbing man would come back to find for her.

  Twenty-two

  Rising early the next day, Nathaniel rode immediately to Wollaford, where his first order of business was to apologize for the deception with the curricle. But he found George Plumtre out and his sisters apparently at a dress fitting in town. His mother greeted Nathaniel as she always did, apparently not bearing any grudge toward him for keeping Diana apart from them at the concert.

  “As long as Miss Makepiece enjoyed herself, Captain,” said Mrs. Plumtre earnestly, “all is well with us. We have grown very fond of the lady. We all have grown fond of her.”

  He knew she meant George, of course.

  “I had hoped, madam, to have a word with your younger son this morning. Is he expected to return soon?”

  She assured him that George would be gone some time, but she did not seem able to say where he went. Or if she knew, the lady had been commanded not to inform Nathaniel. There was something strange about it, but he did not want to make her uneasy, so having stayed a polite quarter hour, he took his leave and rode to the lodge.

  His reception there was less forgiving. Jonty was not at home either, and after a hasty inquiry, he learned from the footman who opened the front door that Diana was also gone, off to the dress fitting with the Plumtre sisters. This left Lady Elizabeth Plumtre in the drawing room when he entered. She made no attempt to hide her disdain and accused him at once of being out to cause scandal and besmirch the Plumtre name. Not to mention the Clarendon reputation.

  “I wish you would take that awful Caroline Sayles and leave Bath before you cause any more trouble. Surely you have imposed upon my husband’s hospitality long enough. Even he is not so dim as to continue opening his doors to a man who embarrasses his family, flirts shamelessly with his little sisters, lies blatantly to his face, runs off with his wife’s companion, and leaves a notorious concubine to distract his brother.”

  “Yes, I am aware that my actions last night were not those of a gentleman. I came here today to apologize to George and to Jonty.”

  “And yet neither of them are at home to you. Can you be at a loss to realize why? You are not welcome here, Captain. You have, as they say, outstayed your welcome at Wollaford. I suggest you stay away for your own good. And for Diana’s.”

  He had nothing more to say that could be civil and decided he had better leave before he lost his temper. There was a time when he would have uttered a parting rude remark to make the lady fall down in a dead faint.

  But she was not worth the breath.

  Fortunately, he knew where that dressmaker was located, did he not?

  * * *

  “I am not certain. It seems a little…low at the bodice.” Diana looked in the long mirror. She had rarely seen her full reflection except in a clean window, and even then it was usually distorted. Today she could take in the entire shape and it was worrisome, to say the least. Had she grown plumper in just a few weeks, or did her new ball gown and undergarments provide her with several inches of more obvious curves? The food at Wollaford Park was always very good, and she had eaten plenty of it. Perhaps she ought to slow down, she mused.

  No need to try everything put before her.

  She flushed, thinking suddenly of Nathaniel and all the things she meant to try with him.

  The dressmaker smiled and showed her that a pretty lace tuck could be used if she felt herself too exposed. But Susanna and Daisy exclaimed that they really didn’t think she needed it.

  “Why should you hide your bosom?” cried Daisy. “There is nothing amiss with it and everyone knows it’s there. If men had a bosom, they’d show it off at every opportunity.”

  Diana corrected her. “One does not say bosom, Daisy.”

  “Then what does one say?”

  “One should not generally refer to it at all.”

  The girls laughed at her blushes, and the dressmaker took her down the corridor to a changing room where Diana could slip out of her new gown in privacy. She was relieved to escape inside that small room, close the door, and no longer have to look at herself in the mirror. It was most disconcerting to see oneself from the toes up.

  Hands began to unhook her from behind and she thought nothing of it, assuming one of the dressmaker’s assistants had waited for her to return from the viewing room.

  Until she realized the fingers were very slow and not at all dexterous. And rather more keen on tickling than in removing her gown. She turned in surprise.

  “Sherry!”

  He placed a finger to her lips and she hastily swallowed the sound.

  Drawing her closer, he kissed Diana and she felt the joy take hold of her again. Would every time he kissed her be like this? She hoped so.

  She whispered, “How did you get in?”

  “I have connections in Bath.” He grinned.

  Of course he did, she thought. How many other women had he waited for in these little rooms? She didn’t want to know.

  For now he was her audacious, wicked Sherry. And she was complicit in his crimes.

  “I knew this was yours,” he added, pointing to the familiar muff hanging from a hook on the wall. “I had to see you, Diana. Make certain last night was not just a dream.”

  Oh, she knew how he felt.

  She nodded, catching her breath.

  Slowly he kissed her again, gently, and then made his way down her throat. “Hmmm.” He pressed his wet lips to her breasts where they rose and fell above that fine lace. “I like this gown. I approve.”

  “I am glad. I’ve never had a gentleman pay for my dress before.”

  He dropped to a stool in the corner and she sat astride his lap, exploring his hair and his face with eager, nibbling kisses. “A gentleman?” he growled. “Who? Tell me the blackguard’s name.”

  “Sir Jonty, of course.”

  “You lie. It’s not Jonty who pays for this.” He hooked one finger around the silk and lowered it to plant another kiss against her breast.

  “It is!” She wriggled, reaching for the fall of his breeches.

  “It is some man with designs upon you.” Nathaniel stopped her hands and pinned them behind her back. “Some rake who plans to get under this pretty frock.”

  “Nonsense!”

  “Oh, yes, it is. A man who wants this”—he gathered up the skirt and tickled his way up her thighs and over her stocking tops—“and this.” He spread his fingers, tightened his grip around her thighs, and slid her closer. “And this.”

 
She gasped as he touched her in that intimate spot.

  “This sweet treasure,” he whispered.

  Diana tried to keep silent, but he did not make it easy. He knew exactly how to touch, caress, withdraw, and tease.

  With his other hand he reached up to run his fingers over her trembling, lowered eyelids. “But he also wants these.” His caress traveled to her ear, looping a stray curl behind it. “And these.” Down across her cheek his fingertips swept, to her lips. “And these.” Then finally down to her breast where he placed his hand over her heart. “And this.”

  “This rake wants a great deal too much,” she managed.

  “That’s why he pays for your gown,” he assured her huskily, the other set of fingertips pressing and circling, quickening their strokes.

  “I assure you he—uh. Oh.”

  “Hmm? What’s that, Miss Makepiece? I didn’t quite hear that.” He grinned slowly.

  Her body quivered, her nerve endings tingled, and every muscle in her body tightened as the blissful waves rolled over her.

  With his entire hand he cupped her sex and squeezed, intensifying the tremors until she bit her tongue and tasted blood.

  “He wants all of you, madam,” he whispered. “That’s why he has already paid the dressmaker for her services. And her discretion.”

  Diana opened her eyes. “You? But Sir Jonty—”

  “Will find the bill already paid. Anonymously, of course.”

  She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “I don’t want you buying things for me.”

  “You wanted a lover,” he reminded her softly, sliding a finger over her damp, sensitive flesh. “This is the sort of thing lovers do.”

  She had to take his word for it. His eyes were very light and very blue that day, and she imagined floating on her back in a warm bath. Naked. An indecent thought of the type he was more and more often planting inside her mind. Apparently without meaning to do so.

  Suddenly, her mind made up, she slid off his lap and went to her knees between his strong, broad thighs. Before he could stop her, she had freed his roused organ from his breeches.