A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (3 page)

Humdrum, all of it.

Lord Norcutt, a perfectly
amiable, perfectly attired, perfectly boring marquess who had
recently begun to show signs of a developing
tendre
for her, turned and asked,
“Miss Hyatt, if we are so lucky as to enjoy sunshine tomorrow
afternoon, might I take you for a drive in Hyde Park? My horses are
raring to get out for a good ride, and my curricle has been sorely
lacking in spirited companionship of late.”

Spirited
companionship
? Had he failed to notice her
slightly less-than-animated participation that evening?

“
She would be delighted,”
Father said.

Aurora wished her eyes were bows and
her glare was arrows. Her aim rarely failed, and at the moment, it
was pointed directly at her father’s head. He raised an eyebrow in
reply, then gestured toward Lord Norcutt.

Blast him. “Yes, of course,” she
finally ground out. “That would be splendid.”

Aunt Sedgewick slurped up a spoonful
of her soup and a few drops dribbled off her chin. “And Aurora, do
be a dear and try to smile for once. You have enough working
against you already with your mother’s coloring. You make yourself
ever so much more unappealing by constantly frowning at the
gentlemen who do bother to pay you attention.”

Rebecca barely concealed a
snicker from her position across the table. They would definitely
be having a conversation about
that
later.

“
If Lady Rebecca is not
otherwise occupied,” said the Earl of Merrick, “perhaps she would
grant me the honor of escorting her to accompany you, Miss
Hyatt.”

Oh, dear good Lord. As if
spending the afternoon with one of them weren’t bad enough, now
they would both be present. Merrick and Norcutt were virtually as
identical in temperament as they were opposite in appearance. Where
Lord Merrick was tall, lanky, and balding, Lord Norcutt was more
short, stocky, and bushy-haired. But both wore the colorful evening
coats so popular amongst the gentlemen of the
ton
and spoke in monotonous tones of
lackluster subjects.

An entire afternoon spent in their
company following an entire evening spent in the same manner might
be enough to convince Aurora to leap from a cliff, should one
present itself to her for such a purpose. Thankfully, Rebecca must
suffer the same afternoon.

That, at least, gave Aurora some small
comfort. And a touch of revenge for Rebecca’s snicker from a moment
before. She granted herself a small, victorious smile. Then a
larger one, after seeing Rebecca’s mounting despair.

“
Oh, that would be
lovely
,” Aurora said. “Do
say you will join us, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca’s eyes flashed for only a
moment, not long enough that anyone else would have noticed. “Well,
I suppose if it is all right with Mother…” She actually looked to
the duchess as though perhaps she would be saved from such a
terrible fate, even though all and sundry knew how very much Her
Grace wanted a match between her daughter and Lord Merrick. Silly,
silly Rebecca.

“
My dear daughter,” the
Duchess of Aylesbury said, “your father and I are delighted for you
to have an excursion with Lord Merrick, as always.” She sent
Merrick a knowing glance across the table before turning the same
look on her husband. His Grace merely grunted.

“
Well, it seems that is
settled,” Lord Norcutt said. He turned the conversation to the new
play being performed at Drury Lane.

Needless to say, Aurora soon lost
interest in their drivel and thought instead of the upcoming
section of her romantic adventure with Lord Quinton. When she had
left off in her journal that afternoon, her hero was just preparing
to draw her in for a kiss—a most devilish thought, but one she
could hardly wait to finish writing. Her skin turned to gooseflesh
just from the thought of his lips on hers, his arms around her, her
hands fisted in his long golden locks.

Somehow, in the two days since she’d
learned so much about him, the shade of his hair now seemed
irresistibly handsome, and his penchant for wearing only black grew
continually more intriguing.

After he kissed her, Aurora was
certain Lord Quinton would take a moment to hold her close. She
imagined his scent—male and clean and expensive—and shuddered in
exquisite, illusory bliss.

“
Miss Hyatt? What are your
thoughts?” Norcutt looked upon her with great
expectation.

Oh, drat.

She hadn’t heard a spoken word in
close to ten minutes whilst she thought about her imagined secret
lover. Nothing came to mind as a response, particularly since she
knew nothing of the current topic under discussion.

She thought, perhaps,
Rebecca would give her some hint. But a look across the table at
her
dearest and most especial
friend revealed nothing.

Rebecca looked expectantly at her.
“Oh, yes, Miss Hyatt,” she said. “Do enlighten us.” Clearly her
friend knew where Aurora’s mind had been and was enjoying her
current suffering. Wicked, devilish girl.

If only she could take this
opportunity and excuse herself to her chamber. Alas, Father would
be furious if she attempted any such escape. He still held out hope
that she would eventually accept a gentleman such as Lord Norcutt
or Lord Merrick, ridiculous though the notion may be.

The footmen entered and began to clear
away the place settings.

Perfect!
“I think,” she said finally, “it is high time for
the ladies to excuse ourselves to the drawing room while the
gentlemen enjoy their port. Aunt Sedgewick, would you not agree?”
She stood and made her way from the room without further
ado.

She might possibly have escaped a
talking to from Father over her horrid inattention. Probably not.
But she could hope.

~ * ~

Finally, after two more hours of what
to most would be agreeable discussion, but to Aurora was rather
more repellent discourse, their guests all took their leave and she
was free to retire to her chamber.

She rushed her lady’s maid through her
nightly ritual of undressing and preparing for bed. Too many ideas
were pouring through her mind. She needed to get them down before
they floated into the air, never to return.

Once she was alone, she lit two more
candles and placed them on her escritoire. She slipped her inkwell
out and placed it just so, then took her quill in hand and opened
her journal.

Aurora reread the last
thing she had written:
Lord Quinton drew
dangerously close to me.

Oh, yes. Yes indeed, he did.
Gooseflesh covered her arms again, spreading all the way down her
body to her toes. A story about Lord Norcutt or any of her other
potential or past suitors with such a statement might perhaps
elicit gooseflesh, but for an entirely different reason.

Enough with thinking about Norcutt.
She had a far more pleasant task ahead of her that evening, and he
held no place in it.

Aurora dipped her quill in ink and
placed it to the parchment of her journal. Then the story took
over.

Lord Quinton drew
dangerously close to me, so close I could smell his expensive
cologne and feel the warmth of his skin. Then closer again, until
his eyes burned down into mine, filled with a yearning sort of
ardor, and his sun-kissed locks shone bright in the pale moonlight.
“My dearest Aurora, I cannot live without you any longer. I must
have you for my very own.”

Before I could react, Lord
Quinton’s lips fell upon mine, soft and supple and wantonly
delectable. He pulled me into a closer embrace and our bodies
touched in an intimacy I’d never before experienced. Slowly,
gently, his hands moved from my arms to my back. Then they slid
lower, close to my derrière. I could almost feel them there.
Despite my better judgment, I even
wanted
to feel them there. I wanted
him to touch me. I wanted to feel his strength against me. Never
before had I felt so shameless, so uninhibited. So
wanted.

“
My lord,” I cried out,
not fully wishing his attentions to cease but knowing they could
scarcely continue, though I desired nothing more than to become his
very own. “We cannot. My father
—
”

“
Kiss me now, sweet
Aurora. I will go to your father in the morning. Surely he cannot
deny our love. Surely he will favor our union.”

“
Our union? Oh, dear good
Lord.” It was about to happen. He would make an undying and
irrevocable promise to me, right at that moment. I could feel it. I
could even taste it
—
sweet, like an ice.

“
Yes.” He sank to his knee
and pulled my gloved hand into his own. “Please, my dear, do me the
very great honor of becoming my wife. Allow me to lavish my love
upon you for the rest of our days, and to bask in the glow of your
beauty. Aurora, marry me.”

My heart sang out “Yes,
yes, yes!” Perhaps my voice did as well, because in an instant Lord
Quinton again rose to his full height and pulled me close to his
body where I could feel his strength and gentleness. Again, his
lips touched to mine in a loving embrace. I was the happiest woman
in the world.

~ * ~

Aurora failed to sleep. Her
fascination with Lord Quinton kept her up until the last ember of
her candlelight snuffed itself out, leaving her with no alternative
but to rest.

Still, her mind raced. Just before
losing her light, she had written The Wedding. She wrote it so
clearly, her mind had nowhere else to turn but to The Wedding
Night.

Frequently over the years since her
debut, Aurora had wondered just what, precisely, took place between
a husband and wife on their wedding night. Her mother had died when
she was only eleven years old, and she had no older, married woman
willing to share intimate details such as these.

Well, there
was
Aunt Sedgewick, but
the old biddy would never dream of discussing anything of the sort
with her. Her responsibility to Aurora lay solely in introducing
her to society and playing the part of chaperone at balls. She felt
no need to discuss anything save Aurora’s good reputation. And what
unmarried lady who knew the details of the marriage bed could
possibly expect to hold a good reputation? None, in the eyes of
Aunt Sedgewick. Her aunt frequently remarked with disdain that she
should like Aurora to cease her close friendship with Lady Rebecca,
whom she felt to be fast, yet neglected to
demand
as much due to her husband’s
relationship with the Duke of Aylesbury. The crotchety old
bag.

Not that Rebecca knew anything of the
goings-on between a husband and wife, anyway. But that was beside
the point.

The point was that Aurora’s
imagination was running away with her, and she doubted she would
sleep a wink the entire night, even though she no longer had light
by which to write.

She thought of him, lean and muscular
and strong, in his sleeping gown and waiting for her.

Rush to him. That’s what she’d
do.

She would rush to his side and dive
beneath the bedclothes and give him a kiss on the cheek. A very
chaste kiss, one that spoke of her love and undying devotion. And
then he would tell her he loved her and she would say the same, and
they would sleep side by side, feeling the warmth of the other
across the bed.

It sounded magical. Delightful.
Scandalous, even—the idea of sharing the same bed for the entire
night. Particularly since most husbands and wives slept in separate
rooms, not just in separate beds. Or so Aunt Sedgewick would have
her believe. It was quite possibly the truth, since Aurora’s
parents had kept entirely separate suites in opposite wings at
Fairfax Priory, where they had lived when Aurora was just a
girl.

She felt warmer, just imagining his
body mere feet from hers.

Yes, this was a splendid manner of
falling asleep. She would have to convince Lord Quinton they should
share a bed once they were married. In the morning, she would be
certain to write that particular detail in her journal.

Almost before she fell asleep, though,
her maid barged into her room to wake her. “Good morning, Miss
Hyatt,” Rose said. “Up with you and off to your breakfast, now. The
Marquess of Norcutt will be here before you know it to collect you
for your outing to Hyde Park.”

Blasted chipper chit. Had she no
respect for the fact that her mistress had scarcely slept a minute
the entire evening? The reason for her lack of sleep was
unimportant, but the lack of sleep itself was of dire
consequence.

But then Rose handed her a cup of
chocolate, surely the most divine creation known to man. All must
be forgiven.

“
All right, then. Up we
go.”

Aurora attempted to slough off the
Sullen Sally mantle she had woken up wearing long enough to allow
Rose’s assistance in preparing for the day ahead.