Lady Mistaken (Le Débauché Club) (3 page)

With the plat
ter of biscuits in his hands, Lord Simon started for a door towards the back of the kitchen. “Bringing you nourishment, Garwood!” he called loudly as he descended the steps. “And I do hope you’re clothed. Your sister has come to fetch you.”

Grace’s stomach plummeted as she followed Lord Simon down the stone steps into darkness. Oh, she hoped Aaron
was
clothed, and she hope that whoever was with her little brother would have the decency not to show her face until after Grace was gone. “Aaron!” she called.

Lord Simon stopped at the bottom of the steps and gestured
towards a doorway at the end of the corridor where a flicker of candlelight seemed to bathe the doorframe in a warm glow. “Wine cellar,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Go ahead of me.”

Grace nodded
, steeling herself to see something she’d rather not see. “Aaron, are you in here?” she asked, starting down the dark corridor. She stepped into wine cellar. Light from the tapers danced across the rows upon rows of bottles on one side of the cellar and a row of large casks lining the other. “Aaron?”

The door closed behind her
, and Grace spun on her heel to find Lord Simon popping another biscuit into his mouth. “Any luck?” he said as soon as he swallowed.

“You closed the door?”

“Did I?” Lord Simon glanced over his shoulder. “Hmm. It
is
closed.” He turned around and pulled the handle, but nothing happened.

Panic seized Grace. She rushed to his side. They couldn’t be…

“Locked,” Lord Simon said, pushing the platter of biscuits into Grace’s hands. Then he tugged harder on the handle. He pounded his fist on the dark mahogany door. “Garwood, are you out there?”

They could not be locked in this room! “Aaron!” she cried. “Aaron, open the door!”

Lord Simon shook his head. “I don’t hear anyone out there.”

She could
not
be locked in the wine cellar with the dangerous Lord Simon Berridge! “Aaron!” she bellowed.

“Good God!”
Lord Simon’s hand covered his ear and his gaze shot to Grace, complete shock on his face. “I said there’s no one out there. Are you trying to deafen me?”

Grace shook her head. “I just—I mean, I can’t be stuck in here with
you
.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter. “ Then h
is rakish grin settled on his face. “But not to worry, Grace—”

The sound of her name on his lips made a tingle race down her spine.

“—there is a party going on above stairs. Someone is going to require more wine sooner rather than later.”

That did make sense
, and she heaved a slight sigh of relief.

* * *

If Simon was a gentleman, he’d feel a niggling bit of guilt over what he’d done, but as he was the furthest thing from honorable, he simply smiled at Grace Garwood, his captive for the evening. She was lovely. The lit tapers cast a warm glow on her face and her innocent blue eyes blinked up at him, sparking
something
in his heart.

Well, perhaps he was more of a gentleman than he believed himself to be. No, he wasn’t about to
take the key from his jacket, unlock the door and help her escape him. He’d never see her again, if he did that, he was certain about that. But he’d make sure she was a willing participant in their activities the rest of the night. She’d only do what she wanted, what she was comfortable with. So it was up to Simon to convince her she wanted more than she’d have ever dreamed of until now.

“In fact,” he began
, starting across the cellar to the far wall, “I think I could use a bit of wine myself.” He plucked a Madeira from its hold and retrieved the corkscrew he’d pocketed back in the kitchens.

Grace’s mouth fell open. “
You’re just going to drink wine? You’re not going to call for help?”

“And strain my throat?”
Simon shrugged. Besides, as he was exactly where he wanted to be, calling for help was counterintuitive. “No one would hear us anyway, Grace. We’ll just have to wait it out.” He turned the corkscrew clockwise into the madiera’s cork.

“And drink wine?”

“We
are
in a wine cellar, not a dairy farm. What do you suggest we drink?”

Her mouth
closed tightly, her pretty lips drawn in a straight line. Simon was going to enjoy loosening her up a bit. How was one so young, so pretty so uptight? He pulled the cork from the bottle and smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed off the cellar walls.

“Want something to wash down your biscuits?” He offered the bottle to her.

She glanced down at the platter in her hands. She did look hungry. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Simon laughed. “There are so many things one shouldn’t do, but I hardly think sipping some
Madeira will do you irreparable harm.”

Her dark blue eyes flashed back to his
, uncertainty in her depths. “Maybe just a sip.”

Simon handed her the bottle and took the biscuits from her at the same time. Then he
pulled the domino from his face and turned back towards the casks that lined a far wall to so she’d be more inclined to imbibe without him watching her. “Fairly certain there are some blankets in here somewhere,” he said as he placed the platter on the closest cask.

“Blankets?” she echoed.

Simon nodded, still not facing her as he scanned the cellar. “I don’t intend to stand for however long it takes someone to find us in here, and the floor is far from comfortable.” Ah, there they were, a stack of quilts in a corner behind a large cask. Simon had never understood why Julian often insisted on draping new casks with quilts – something inane about wanting the wine to be well cared for - but as the blankets served his purposes now, Simon vowed never to harass his brother over the practice in the future.

He retrieved the quilts and returned to Grace, still standing sentry by the cellar door. He tilted his head towards the row of bottles to the
left. “Stand over there so I can spread these out.”

She took a long sip from her bottle and then did as she was b
id. Perfect Everything was happening as if by plan.

Simon shook the first quilt out and then spread it on th
e ground at his feet. The scent of aged oak drifted upwards, and he spread a second and then third quilt on top of the first. He plopped down on top of the blankets and grinned at Grace. “Not a well-crafted settee, but not bad.”

The skeptical look in her eyes said she thought otherwise.

Simon pushed back to his feet and started for the platter of biscuits he’d left on the nearby cask. “Suit yourself. Stand all night if you want.”

When he turned back towards the door, Grace had m
oved closer to the blankets, and then she dropped to her knees. What a lovely sight. A sight that could only be made better with his cock in her mouth.

Simon returned to the blankets and once she’d sat on her bottom, he pushed the platter towards her. “Biscuits?”

When she popped one into her mouth. He dropped onto the blanket beside her and turned to his side, resting his arm on his now bent knee.

“How long do you think it will be before someone finds us?”

They’d never be found. At least not until Simon was ready to unlock the door and step through it. After all, all the wine for the evening’s festivities had already been brought above stairs. “No clue.” He tugged the mask from her face so he could see her better.

Grace heaved a sigh. “You mustn’t tell anyone. I-I’ll be ruined should anyone find out
I was here with you.”

Simon winked at her a
s he tossed her mask to the floor and then moved his hand to her knee. “Your secrets are safe with me, Grace.”

She swallowed, and he watched the erotic movement of the muscles in her throat. He nearly groaned. “I haven’t given you liberty to call me that.”

His smile widened. At least she hadn’t moved his hand from her person, that was good news, indeed. “Just one more secret between us.” He looked at the wine bottle in beside her and added, “Pass me the Madeira?”

She nodded quickly and handed the bottle to him.
It was nearly half empty. What a very pleasant discovery.

Simon lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted it back, though his eyes never left her
s, and hers never left his. As the sweet wine filled his mouth, he softly caressed her knee and his cock strained against his trousers. Grace’s eyes widened in surprise at his touch, but she didn’t move away from him. Thank God. Though he should probably be thanking the Madeira.

Simon lowered the bottle an
d wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he offered the wine back to her. “More?”

Grace tipped the bottle back and
took a healthy swallow. Simon bit back a smile. She was like a lamb to the slaughter.

“Better?” he asked, drawing a bit of her skirts northwards in his hand.

Grace nodded, then rested her head against the door. “This is certainly not how I expected to spend my evening tonight.”

Simon hadn’t planned on this either, but he wasn’t sorry for his good fortune.
It wasn’t everyday a stunning innocent was dropped in his lap, and he intended on enjoying every last minute of the evening. “Oh?” he said softly, leaning his head on the door beside hers. “What were your plans, Grace?” He slid her skirts even further up her legs.

“To go through Aaron’s ledgers and try to find…”

He waited for her to continue, but when it became clear she would not, he lifted a hand to the apple of her cheek. “Try to find what, my dear?”

She turned her head towards him, her
dark blue eyes held his gaze. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

Well, he certainly did now. “About what?”

A self-deprecating laugh escaped her and she took another drink from the bottle.

“If you don’t tell me,” he teased, “I’ll have to find another way to entertain myself.” And he lifted her skirts all the way to her knees.

Grace gasped, her eyes once again on his. “What are you doing?”

“Or I could entertain
both
of us.” His hand slid beneath her skirts and he squeezed her thigh. Her flesh trembled beneath his touch. “We’ll have to pass the time somehow.”

“Lord Simon!” She clamped her hand over his
, stilling his progress.

He grinned. “Or you could tell me whatever it is you’d hoped to find in Garwood’s ledgers.”

“A miscalculation,” she whispered.

“A miscalculation?”
he asked, not certain he heard her correctly as he caressed her soft thigh with his forefinger.

Grace
closed her eyes and squeezed her legs together. “Looking for funds. Looking for a way to save Fairview.”

Fairview was in trouble? Simon hadn’t realized. Then again, he’d never given the old Lord Garwood a second thoug
ht. Perhaps the man had been the worst sort of spendthrift. “Such troubling thoughts for a lady,” he soothed. “You shouldn’t have to worry about such things.”

A mirthless laugh escaped her once more. “Someone has to.”

And she’d taken all of that responsibility on
her
shoulders? Garwood should be the one trying to figure something out if there was a problem. He shouldn’t leave such worries for his sister to sort out. Simon leaned closer to Grace and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Not tonight you don’t. I’m certain I can be more entertaining than dusty old ledgers.”

She loosened her grip on his hand
and the muscles of her thighs slacked a bit. Taking his advantage, Simon slid his fingers further up her leg.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she said breathlessly.

“There are so many things I shouldn’t do, Grace, and yet I can’t seem to help myself.” He smiled once more. “Besides, I think you could use a little distraction, don’t you?”

She sucked in a breath as his hand slid under
the leg of her drawers. “I think I’ll be ruined if you don’t stop.”

“I won’t ruin you.” Simon promised.
And he wouldn’t. “There are plenty of things we can do that won’t involve your maidenhead, Grace.”

And then his fingers brushed against the springy curls that protected her
cunt. She inhaled sharply as he touched his finger to her clit.

“Rela
x, sweetheart,” he soothed. “It’s just a finger.”

He gently circled her clit, reveling in the look of astonishment that flashed in her eyes. Then he slowly speared her, pushing his finger into the tight wetness of her cunt. And she was wet, nearly dripping
with her desire. Simon groaned and his cock pulsed with need. Damn it all, he wished he hadn’t promised to leave her maidenhead intact. Seating himself fully within her would be the highlight of his evening. But he had promised, and he truly didn’t want to ruin her. He just wanted to enjoy her, to help her loosen up a bit, to awaken the sexual woman who lived just beneath Grace’s skin. All right, he really wanted to fuck her—