Romancing Lady Stone (A School of Gallantry Novella) (21 page)

She clung to him in between gasps.

He rode her into the floor faster, his body desperate for release. “I thought about you every day,” he rasped against her throat.

“I thought about you every hour,” she rasped back.

He savagely pounded into her, ensuring she felt every moment of his jarring movements. Their moans mingled and grew progressively louder and louder. The rapid thuds of their bodies against the floor echoed as the air grew so unbearably hot. He grunted into her, no longer able to think. He could only
feel
between uneven, ragged breaths.

She cried out, gripping his shoulders hard.

He cried out, in turn, and let all of his pleasure spiral into one long guttural shout he couldn’t hold. He spilled everything into her, his core and his entire body shuddering and pulsing. He pressed himself against her, catching his breaths.

“Cecilia.” He cradled her, still in disbelief that she was back in his life and in his arms.

The movement of a shadow from down the corridor made him freeze.

The duc pushed away from the far wall he was leaning against in the shadows outside the candlelight, then turned and walked in the opposite direction, the swaying ribbon of the mask dangling from his hand. He disappeared into a room and closed the door.

Konstantin swallowed, knowing the man had been watching them. Jesus Christ. He was going to bloody cut the man’s heart out. Coming upon them accidentally and making a dash was one thing. Staying to leisurely watch was quite another.

Konstantin quickly pulled out of Cecilia and scrambled to yank her skirts back down, while arranging his own robe. He probably shouldn’t tell Cecilia. He skimmed her beautiful face with quaking hands, trying to focus on her and only her.

Her hands slid up his robed shoulders. “I adore you.”

He smiled. “And I you.” He grabbed Cecilia’s face and kissed her hard before releasing her lips and whispering, “I need you to go. ’Tis late. I will call on you tomorrow at three. I cannot wait to meet your girls.”

She kissed his lips one last time. “We will be waiting.”

He pushed himself up off the floor, ensuring his robe was in place and reached down and swept her back onto her feet. He steadied her and smoothed back long curls that had fallen from its pins. “Did you get dressed up for me?”

She smiled and eased away. “I think you know the answer to that. I had better go, Mr. Levin. Before I stay.” She blew him a kiss with a pucker of full lips.

He grabbed at the air before him and fisting the imaginary kiss she bestowed him, he thudded it against his chest. “I will keep it here. Always. Let me know when you want it back.”

Her smile broadened as she searched his face. “Don’t ever give it back. It’s yours.” Gathering her skirts, she glanced back at him one last time and disappeared down the main stairwell.

When everything had grown quiet and he knew she was gone, Konstantin let out a riled breath, adjusted the belt on his robe and stalked straight toward the duc’s bedchamber that was down a few doors. He wasn’t letting this flit over his shoulder. If the man could openly watch him and Cecilia have sex, the man was capable of anything.

Coming to a quick halt before the closed door, Konstantin used his bare foot to bang against the door. “
Andelot
?” The son of a bitch. “Open this door!”

Several drawers slammed shut and the door swung open.

The mask was back on. It was crooked. The holes barely aligned.

Konstantin wanted to smack that crooked mask off that face. “How long were you standing against that wall watching us?” he demanded.

The duc leaned heavily against the frame of the door. The heavy scent of brandy clung to the air. “Long enough. Why?”

The man was drunk. But of course. “
Why
?” Konstantin echoed. “I will tell you why. Any normal man, be he slathered up with brandy or not, would have darted out of sight and given us privacy. Any normal man would
not
have stayed and taken off his mask so he could watch.”

“Since when did I ever imply I was…
normal
?” Andelot sighed, blowing out a breath of brandy. “When you get to be a man my age, Levin, you find yourself…well…watching people for reasons that have nothing to do with sex. I have seen it all. What you and she did was…tame. Not at all what I like or what I would do with a woman.” The duc reached out and sloppily patted him on the cheek like a father would a son, the man’s signet ring nudging Konstantin’s skin. “I am happy for you. If you have a son from it, name the boy after me given I was there to see it. Now let me sleep. I am still recovering from Thérèse.” The duc pushed away from the door, staggering and slammed the door.

Konstantin blinked. Why the hell did he feel sorry for a man who had just watched him have sex with his future wife? There had to be something wrong with him.

“
When are you getting married
?” the duc called through the door.

That was random. “She and I are merely progressing into a courtship to ensure we are a match.”

The door rattled. “To hell with courtship, boy. Courtship is…for the devil. It would only give her a chance to find someone else. You either know you want her to be the mother of all your children or you do not know. Which is it?” he slurred.

Konstantin sighed. “I suggest you sleep off the brandy.”

“Sleep, sleep. Brandy, brandy. Cease being rude. You Russians are rude. I am not done speaking to you. Did I say I was done?”

Konstantin rolled his eyes. “Be sure to let me know when
you
are.”

“Are you buying her a courtship ring? Is that the plan?”

Why were they talking through the door? “Yes, I intend to buy one. Tomorrow.”

Heavy steps from within the room resounded and several drawers opened and then closed, some of them being slammed shut. “Levin?”

“Yes?”

“Are you still there?”

The man was beyond soused. “Yes. Yes, I am.” He didn’t know why he was but he was.

The door opened and the duc grabbed Konstantin’s hand and deposited a small gold ring with a large garnet. “Take it. I have held onto it for…too long. Thérèse never accepted my proposal when we were younger. And given that she is engaged to another she never will.”

Konstantin’s heart constricted as the weight of that ring sat heavy in his hand. That garnet ring represented the man’s dreams. Dreams that were not his to take. Dreams that were not his to even hold.

Grabbing that scarred hand, Konstantin pressed the ring back into it hard, closing that hand around it. He shook it and leaned in to the duc. “I appreciate your generosity, but this ring represents what is yours. Not mine, but yours. Fight for her. Win her back. I know you can.”

The duc glanced up at him through his own haze. “How do you know I can?”

Konstantin shook that hand one last time in assurance. “Destiny. We Russians know these things.”

3:07 p.m.

The Stone residence

Cecilia nervously glanced toward the sunlit parlor window from where she sat and arranged her lace morning gown for the third time. It was like waiting for the King to call.

Giselle, Juliet and Abigail primly sat elbow to elbow on the upholstered couch, their dark pinned curls piled in ringlets and white satin matching ribbons they had all insisted on. Whilst Juliet and Abigail both wore white dresses and white slippers, as was proper given their age, Giselle, who sat between them, opted for a regal pale blue gown and red satin slippers.

Juliet pressed her gloved hands together tighter. “He is seven minutes late, Mama.”

Giselle perused the French clock on the marble mantelpiece of the hearth that was a few feet away from where they sat. “A gentleman is supposed to be aware of the time.”

Abigail picked at the fabric of her cotton gown. “I think he realized the amount of responsibility involved and left for Russia.”

A breath escaped Cecilia. “Cease fussing. Just because he is a few minutes late doesn’t mean he left for Russia. I’m quite certain he—”

The calling bell chimed through the corridor announcing a visitor.

They all jumped to their feet as the butler strode toward the door.

Abigail and Juliet grabbed each other’s arms.

Giselle frantically smoothed her skirts.

Cecilia felt her entire face grow hot remembering what she and Konstantin had done last night against a wall and then the floor. She needed a glass of wine. Desperately.

Booted steps approached. The butler paused in the doorway and announced, “Lord Gunther is calling, Lady Stone. Are you receiving?”

Cecilia felt all of the blood leave her head. It was her cousin. The one whose father used to humiliate her parents when she and her family had been dependent on Lord Gunther’s family for finances. Before Cecilia married well and ended her cousin’s advances by providing her parents with everything herself. In their youth, Gunther had repeatedly tried to do more than kiss her. He eventually married and had children of his own and kept to himself, but whenever their paths crossed, she always panicked and ensured she was never alone. She didn’t trust him.

Cecilia glanced toward her daughters, who gaped at her wide-eyed.

They knew the story about her cousin all too well.

She set her chin. “I am not receiving anyone but Mr. Levin. Please turn him away.”

“Yes, my lady.” The butler inclined his head and departed to dismiss their unannounced guest.

Giselle hurried over to Cecilia and whispered, “He called several times and kept asking to see you. The governess was quite annoyed with him given he wanted to know when you would return. He hasn’t associated with us before. Knowing how he used to treat you in your youth, his intentions scare me, Mama.”

Cecilia let out a shaky breath knowing it. “His intentions have no bearing on us. He will be turned away every time.”

A shout from the butler caused them all to pause.

Lord Gunther walked into the room, his grey satin trimmed morning coat announcing the extravagance that had always followed the man. His greying, blond hair was meticulously brushed and parted.

He’d worn his hair the same since 1808.

Hazel eyes briefly met her gaze. He inclined his head. “You look well for yourself, cousin.” Turning to the girls, he smiled and lowered his shaven chin against his silk cravat. “I am certain you are all pleased to have your mother return from her travels abroad after so many months away.”

Cecilia tried not to panic knowing he was in her house and talking to her girls. She grabbed up a vase from a side table and made her way toward him. “Gunther, I ask that you not speak to my girls. Get out.” She held up the vase in warning.

He held out a hand toward the vase. “Please. I need to speak to you.”

Cecilia felt her throat tighten, remembering all too well how her poor papa would quietly accept funds from Gunther’s balding father who would casually point to items in their home and ask that it be taken in return for the funds received. And how Gunther himself, at eighteen, would corner her alone at fifteen and demand ‘kisses’ and other physical ‘favors’ as if it were his right. Merely because his father assisted in paying their debts. That was the sort of family they were. The Gunthers had always believed in making everyone crawl. Because of them, she had stupidly given up all of her dreams in her youth to pursue the wrong ones: financial ones.

The calling bell rang.

Her daughters’ faces flickered in panic.

Cecilia, however, felt a lethal calm embrace her knowing it was Konstantin. It was like he was destined to be in her life to protect her and her girls. She lowered the vase and set it aside.

Running steps approached and the butler appeared again. “Mr. Levin is calling, Lady Stone. Shall I call for the footmen and escort Lord Gunther out?”

The footmen didn’t have the experience Konstantin did. “No. That won’t be necessary, Stanley. If Lord Gunther does not leave, Mr. Levin will escort him out.”

Lord Gunther paused, his brows flickering. “Who is Mr. Levin?”

Cecilia didn’t move. “A man you will regret meeting. I am
not
the fifteen-year- old girl you used to corner. Nor will I be intimidated in my own home.”