Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) (10 page)

His eyes gleamed,  ‘It is a passion I have. Being privileged with ample funds, I studied in Rome and Florence –  spent  years  researching the ancient history of the art. I have a keen interest in the treatment of wounds and hygiene, and decided to take on the role of physicker for the duration of old Boney’s resurgence from Elba. I have little liking for fraternizing with the bickering of Generals and Colonels or managing the quartering of troops. For me, I would rather take control of the medical section – have hands on work with the wounded.’

‘How noble. But I thought you would have to submit to the orders of your superiors.’

‘Hmm, let us say that I have a free hand.’

Her brow puckered, ‘You have not yet apprised me of your station.’

‘Is it important to you?’

‘No of course not but…’

‘Then let us be friends on equal footing.’

Realizing he was a man of secrets, Phillipa sat back, unrolling her parasol, and lifting it to shade her face. It would not do to have tanned skin, it was quite out of fashion.  She did envy Isabella who had a passion for the sun and refused to shield her face, yet with her olive skin, she only appeared to glow. Leaning a little over the side of the boat, she trailed her hand in the water. ‘It is scorching hot, but tis so good to be on the river. It is so busy though, almost crowded out with boats and skiffs.’

‘I must row carefully, we don’t want a tumble in the river do we now. I shall have to dive in those murky waters and save the maiden.’ Delmare grinned, his eyes bright. 

Laughing, she said, ‘Maybe tis me would save you, but these long skirts would hamper me somewhat. My friend, Lady Henrietta dived into broiling waters, and saved the life of her husband now to be and a child as well. She was commended for it and will receive a medal at some time.’

Smiling, she looked over to a small paddle steamer sailing past, groups of people stood looking out over the rail, the women twirling their parasols, whilst the men with kerchiefs on open necks waved at passing boats. She breathed in happily, it was so good to be in such surroundings.  The laughter, and activity was infectious and soon she and Delmare struck up conversation; he entertaining her with tales of his years in the Peninsula, whilst she charmed him with an account of her escapades at the balls in her first season. As conversation lapsed, she lay back, whilst becoming overheated Delmare rolled up his sleeves. She became more and more aware of the dark hairs on his bare arms, the muscles bulging, as he pulled back on the oars. When he removed his kerchief, she espied a few black curls at his chest, which set her pulses racing, She had the urge to stroke those glistening muscles, and lay a her head against that magnificent chest. Trying to divert her attention, she turned to see they were very nearly in the shallows.

‘My lord, if we are not careful, we will hit the bank.’

‘Please, I entreat you please use my familiar name, Damien.  Now never fear, we shall not hit the bank, I am an expert oarsman – was in the team at Eton.’ Turning his head, he looked upriver to the lieutenant, and raised his hand signalling. ‘I think we shall stop soon my love, I am peckish and have also worked up a thirst.’

‘I must say I too am feeling hungry and could do with a drink. My throat is quite parched.’  As she went to pull down her parasol, she shrieked, as the boat jolted, and bumped against the bank. ‘Oh my goodness, we are aground. I thought you said that would not happen?’

‘Fear not, I shall soon have us buoyant, although on second thoughts, it could be a good place for us to stop.’  He peered through the overhanging branches of a weeping willow. ‘Yes there is a good spot here, almost a bower. 

Phillipa clasped her hands to her face.  ‘Oh dear we are marooned?’

‘No, we’ll just go up on the bank. I am sure Wilkinson will come back for us. Meanwhile, let us get you to dry land.’

Leaping out of the boat, he pulled it further up the bank, and then held out his hands, ’Come to me.’

As she stood warily at the edge of the boat, he reached out lifted her, and swung her round onto the grass. Catching up her voluminous skirt and casting it over her arm, she pouted prettily, ‘I am most put out with you sir. And tis very shaded here.’

‘Hmm there is space for us to sit, and we will not be overlooked. Must see to propriety what?’

‘Propriety, you coxcomb, it is not propriety to be alone thus with you. It will not do.’ She stamped her satin slipper impetuously, but still appeared graceful. 

‘There is no-one to see us, and I am sure Wilkinson will not breathe a word.’

‘But what of Eloise?’

‘She will hardly disclose she was alone, unchaperoned on the river with a strange man she’s hardly met?’

‘Hmm.’ Phillipa looked at him with knotted brow. ‘We are thrown in a pucker, you planned this did you not?’

‘No, believe me – why would I do that?’ He raised up his hands, as if in surrender, his eyes widening with innocence.

‘Do not give me that; it won’t fadge. And as for your question, lief, I am too much of a lady to tell you why. Suffice I implore you to get the boat afloat. We must needs repair to the river, in sight of everyone.’

‘Deuce it, I am not about to harm you Pippa.’

‘You are the most complete hand you know, it is not about seduction, it is about being alone with you, and don’t call me Pippa you do not know me well enough for that.’

‘Come now.’ 

‘I should compel you to honour my plea. Where is your solicitude?’

‘Honour ?’ he strode forward, clasping her in his arms. As she struggled in vain, he murmured, ‘Indeed I shall honour you, honour your beauty, your grace. With that he held the back of her head and drew her face to his, kissing her firmly. 

Gasping, she tried to pull away, ‘Unhand me sir, I do not wish to do you harm.’

Laughing, he set her from him. ‘Do me harm – you?  Let me see those pretty claws my sweet little kitten. .’

‘Oh for goodness sake, you gammon. Do not test me, for I can assure you, I am no mean pugilist.’

His heart rose at the sight of her, those peach soft cheeks blooming, those dark chocolate eyes almost black with anger, the perfect teeth clenched. ‘Then belabour me with kisses, let those fists uncurl and stroke my brow.’

‘Oh you are a knave –insufferable, l cringe at my naivety in allowing this to happen.’

‘Come, I apologise, let us at least have something to drink. It is cooler here, a perfect bower. I shall fetch a blanket for us. We cannot have you spoiling that lovely gown.’

Frustrated, she watched him bring out two blankets and spread them over the grass, but her frustration came not from his attempts to arouse her, but her own desires. She wanted to yield to him, to feel those lips on hers once more, but she must needs demur to propriety. Indeed, her virginity may well be at stake here. 

In stifled silence, she watched him spread a white linen cloth out and unpack the ice box.

Reluctantly, she sat down and tried not to lick her lips or show any interest at all, especially when he laid out the lobster tails and the fresh prawns on fine porcelain plates. Her mouth watered, as she smelt the freshly baked rolls and curls of yellow gold butter. Accepting a glass of ice cold champagne, she felt the bubbles rising up, tickling her nose as she sipped.

‘To us my darling. Let us make this a pleasant time, for tomorrow morning I depart for Ramsgate.’

Her eyes widened, ‘Ramsgate? Why that is where we are heading after the wedding.’

‘Perhaps, it may be my good fortune that we meet again, but then of course you will be Lady Frencham, Baroness of Westmead, no less.’

‘And you sir, you have never declared your station to me.’

He sipped the champagne, and then putting the glass on the ice box, quietly repeated his former question, ‘Is that important?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then taste this.’ He held up a piece of lobster tail and slipped it into her mouth.

Chewing it, she felt the sweet saltiness – quite delicious. To her surprise, they did indeed eat pleasantly together and he told more stories, but this time, of his early youth and his stay at Eton. As they finished, he poured another glass. She held up her hand, ‘Nay, no more thank you, I need a clear head for the ball tonight.’

Smiling, he shifted over to her side. ‘Now, tis nearly time for us to depart, but first, will you spare me just one tender kiss?’

Lowering her eyes, she sighed, why not, soon she would be married to her dear Hector, a man who knew not the name of passion. Turning to him, she stroked his cheek, feeling the harsh stubble send shivers down her spine. ‘Just one.’

Clasping her to him, he lifted her chin, and pressed his lips on hers. Her whole body trembled, followed by exquisite ripples in her stomach, as his tongue pushed through to her mouth, flicking over her own. Moaning, she arched to him, whereupon, he laid her down on the blanket and leant over her, his lips on her forehead, the tip of her nose, her neck, her chest, whilst his hand moved to her waist, drawing her up close to him. She felt a certain hardness from his lower region, and could only wonder at it. So soon? Was he so soon aroused? With a soft groan, his hand lifted to her bosom. Gasping, she pulled away, ‘No Damien, no.’ she moaned, ‘just kisses – kisses.’

‘So you call me by my intimate name, now we are much closer.’ With that, he unpinned her hair, allowing it to flow in deep waves over her shoulders, and onto the blanket. ‘Such glorious tresses,’ he whispered, ‘the colour of midnight. Oh my love, you are the night, the moon; the stars.’

She lost all sense of time, as he caressed her, kissed her, rolled his tongue around hers. She realized she was caught up in a turmoil of desire, and knew she had to stop. Pulling away, she said, ‘We must get back; where are the others? They must be wondering where we are.’

‘I think not,’ he said dryly, pushing back a lock of black hair. ‘If I know Alleyne, he is engaged in much the same as us. He lifted his head from hers. ‘He is not far away, in fact I could whistle to him.’

‘Oh, so it was all planned?’

‘Of course, it was the only chance I had to be with you.’ He clasped her hands to his heart. ‘You know I love you don’t you?  Surely you feel the same?’ His dark eyes glittered, his voice tense.

‘Please Damien do not spoil this now. It is not about feelings, it is about duty.’  Sitting up, she began adjusting her dress, whilst he with unexpected ease, began pinning up her hair.

‘Come let me do this for you, otherwise you will look like a lady of the night.’

‘So you have much experience with a lady’s hair?’

‘Some,’ he said, twisting and pinning the last braid.

Turning to him, she held his face in her hands. ‘Know this, I do not know whether I just desire or love you. Damien, but I am marrying Hector, I cannot live a life of guilt, or happiness on someone’s sorrow.’  She gulped, almost unable to cope with the emotion. Was this truly lust or was it love, if so it was a completely different sort of love to her feelings for Hector.

In turn, his large hands closed over hers. ‘I will not give up, not until you marry him.’

The maid carefully pinned in the silk peach roses threading in a scattering of pearl amongst the dark curls.  Phillipa beamed. ‘Oh tis beautiful, you have such a flair for the hair Mary.’

‘It was that course of lessons you sent me on milady.’

‘Well it was well worth it. I fear however, your fame goes before you and both the ladies, Amelia and Lily request you dress their hair as well. But I fear you are kept too busy.’

‘Ooh no milady, I love it.  I can try out the other styles as well.’

‘So you would not mind fashioning their hair on festive occasions?’

‘I would be proud to do so milady.’

‘Then I shall see you are remunerated for such service over and above your duties for me.’ Mary flushed with excitement, she and the second footmen were now officially courting and she could add the extra money to her nest egg. She was so relieved she was in service to Phillipa, as she would allow her to marry.  Her ladyship was also as generous as her father in allowing her retinue of servants to have a whole afternoon or evening off once a week instead of the usual custom of once a month and some did not allow leave at all. She had already assured Mary and the servants she brought with her that she would embrace the custom when she became lady of the manor. To her surprise it appeared the dowager was in accord with her sentiments. Yet Mary feared some of her duties would be taken away from her, as whereas Phillipa’s papa could afford only a small retinue of a mere eighteen servants, here were at least eighty maybe more at the manor. So her ladyship would have a personal dresser, first and second maids, maids of the bed chamber and so on. 

Biting her lip, she timidly broached the subject, ‘I suppose milady when you be married you’ll be havin’ your own personal dresser and a fine personal maid, as is educated and the like?’

Phillipa realized to her dismay, that her dear Mary had been suffering since moving to the manor. Turning to her, she clasped the girl’s hand, ‘Mary, there is only one dresser and one fine personal maid for me and that is you. Why I look upon you as my friend, la, we played together as children and the last act I would do is to cast you aside, no more than you would me.’

Mary blinked, removed her hands, put them to her face and burst into tears.

‘Why Mary, have I upset you?’ She worried, as it was far from Mary’s nature to succumb to tears, she was of such a sunny personality.

‘On no milady, it’s just me ma will be so proud of me, and me pa too,  he’ll be spouting out down the ale house, as how his daughter is a personal lady’s maid at the manor, no less.’

‘There then, Mary. I think —’

A knock at the door interrupted her. Hastily drying her tears, Mary rushed to it, to find Eloise standing there. Seeing she was still in her dress of the afternoon, she said, ‘Eloise? Is all well?’

‘No.’ she glanced over to Mary and lowered her eyes, her voice subdued, ‘I wish to speak to you privately if I may.’

Mary nodded and giving a short bob, lifted her skirts and hurried from the room, closing the door gently behind her.

‘Now we are quite alone, please Eloise what is amiss?’

‘I know not how to broach this. I am in desperate need of succour.’

Rising Phillipa went to her, ‘Please, come and sit down.’ Leading her to a chaise longue, she plumped up the cushions.  Once seated, Eloise looked at her with apprehension in the large eyes.

‘My dear you look quite distressed, how can I help you?’

‘I could not broach the subject until we were alone.’

‘I saw that you were quite downcast on our return walk.’

Wringing her gloved hands together, Eloise looked down. ‘I am undone, once I tell you I know I cannot retract. But there is no-one else to whom I can turn. It would be quite inappropriate to divulge my predicament to the dowager, and it would surely lead my papa to have an apoplexy, let alone dear mama, she would be heartbroken.’

Phillipa took a deep breath, this did indeed sound very serious.

‘Eloise, I will keep your confidence. It will go no further than this room that I promise you.’

‘You do? You promise not to breathe a word to anyone?’

‘Upon my heart I do. Please Eloise I can see you suffer, let me share your dilemma.’

Opening her reticule, Eloise took out a fine linen handkerchief embroidered with pale blue forget-me-nots.  Phillipa gazed at it, wondering what on earth it could be that suffocated this young woman’s words.

She decided to remain quiet and give Eloise time to collect her thoughts.  A minute passed during which, Eloise bit her lip straightening out the handkerchief and the crumpled it into a bunch in her fist, her knuckles white, almost showing the bone ‘I am undone, my reputation is ruined, my life is over. He….’ She sobbed, her delicate body shaking.

‘He?’ Phillipa’s heart raced, ‘Dear Eloise, please let me help you.’

‘Far rather I threw myself in the river, never more to be.’

‘Don’t think so, my dearest.’

The young woman crumpled, clutching the handkerchief to her face. Rising, Phillipa rushed over to her, and took her in her arms. Sobbing now, Eloise laid her head on Phillipa’s shoulder.

‘Pray tell me, who it is you speak of?’

‘Lord Alleyne, he despoiled me. There you have it, oh what a loose woman I am.’

‘Oh dear God.’ Holding Eloise, she swore in under the her breath, ‘The cur, the bastard. Oh my dear.’

Taking a breath, she sought to calm herself. She must hear the whole story, perhaps he did not … did not truly despoil her … maybe it was just….’ She moved across the room, ‘Let me get you a drink of water.’ She poured some water from a jug into a glass. Returning, she sat down once more beside her. ‘Here, drink this, sweetheart tell me all – I know it is difficult, but I want to help you.’

Sipping the water, some of the colour returned to the lovely face. ‘He is just so handsome, I fear I adored him from that first evening at cards. I have never experienced such passion. He – he, oh Phillipa, it was so wrong of me, but the champagne, the kisses. I …’

‘Fear not, tell me, I can only help you if I know all.’ Phillipa hoped that Eloise’s view of ruination may be quite naïve.  Many girls believed themselves to be despoiled with just a long kiss, just as did her dear friend Henrietta. Why some of them, Henrietta included, believed that to lie with a man, and to kiss  with the tongues  was enough to make a girl pregnant.  Surely Alleyne would not have been so callous as to deflower her. He seemed such an amiable young man, with his fair curls and periwinkle blue eyes, he was charming and so kind.’

‘I do not know that I can speak of it. It will disgust you – I am lower than a light skirt, a barque of frailty.’

‘Never my poor darling, never say that, to me you are a lady, beautiful and elegant of manner. Come let me help you. Did he do more than kiss you?’

‘Yes.’ She lowered her eyes, biting her lip. ‘The champagne went to my head.  I was almost delirious what with his kisses and the drink. I felt I was floating, my body on fire. Oh dear it sounds terrible.’

‘No it does not, it sounds like you are the victim of a rake’s evil desires, a pure innocent victim.’

‘He lifted my ….’ She lowered her head. ‘And he….’

Phillipa held her hand, ‘I understand how you were overcome, I too was nearly such a victim this very afternoon.’

‘The devils they had it planned,’ murmured Eloise.  ‘Oh Phillipa, I have never been kissed like that before, nor felt a man’s hand caress my person. How weak a mortal am I?’ 

‘No, dearest, not weak, a predator’s prey, a lamb at the altar. We must face him, he must marry you.’