The Kiss of a Viscount (The Daughters of the Aristocracy) (20 page)

“Regardless of what happens, I will not change my good opinion of you.”

Sometime during his description of the night’s schedule, Elizabeth felt her breasts grow heavy, their nipples becoming hardened pebbles. Somewhere deep inside, desire bloomed. She felt moisture form at the top of her thighs, tendrils of heat coiling in her abdomen. And she seemed to have difficulty breathing, although that could have been due to how tightly Anna had tied her corset that morning.
I shall remove every one ...
She glanced up at him, her sudden intake of breath sounding as if she were offended. “If I am to be ... naked,” she said the word very quietly, “What about you? Will you remove your clothes as well?”

George struggled to maintain his pleasant look as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. “Have you ever seen an unclothed man?” he wondered, the words so quiet she had to lean in toward him to hear them. “Besides the statues we just saw at the museum, of course,” he added in a somewhat louder voice.

She stared at George for a few seconds, a memory of seeing her father atop her mother flash before her eyes. They had both been naked – her mother’s long legs wrapped about her father’s hips while his body bowed over hers, supported on arms that were taut, his face straining as if he was in agony. She’d heard her mother’s moans from outside the room and thought perhaps she was in pain. But when she’d opened the door and peaked through the crack, she realized almost immediately what she was witnessing. Her father’s movements suddenly stilled and he groaned loudly while her mother giggled in delight, her face full of joy. “I saw my father once,” she whispered with a nod. “Quite by accident,” she added, her face turning a deep pink with the admission.

George nodded, silently wondering how
that
had happened. “I should not wish to ... frighten you by having you see mine.” He paused a moment and then added, “Although I have a very ... fit body ... and ...”

“Which is quite evident to anyone who sees you in evening attire,” Elizabeth put in quickly, thinking that perhaps it was better that George
not
be naked.

What if I cannot keep my hands off of him?

An eyebrow cocked and George’s expression turned to one of delight. “Why, thank you, milady. I do believe you have justified every pound I have spent at Weston’s with your compliment.” 

Elizabeth gave him a nod, her thoughts going back to her original query. And his quick reply. Everything he claimed he would do that evening was so wrong, and yet, she was ...
curious
. She felt desire. Perhaps not for him, exactly, but desire to know more about what happened in a bedchamber late at night.
I shall see to it you are thoroughly pleasured by midnight
. And yet, he promised he would leave her virtue intact.

How could that be?

He said he would make love to her, but didn’t that imply ... something
more
than the kissing and touching she was imagining? Something didn’t quite make sense in all this, and she struggled to think while her body wanted his hands, his lips, his body all over it.

She would be pleasured, but what of George? He had just promised she would be left with her maidenhead intact. Other than seeing her naked, what could he possibly gain by agreeing to her request? Was seeing her naked ... enough? “You make a very generous offer, George,” she finally answered, stepping forward to place a hand against his cheek. A hint of stubble was already apparent despite the early hour. “But what of you? Of your ... pleasure?”

Stunned that she hadn’t dismissed the entire idea outright, George placed a hand over hers, lifting it so that he could gently kiss the palm. “Just hearing you say my name when you are in ecstasy will be pleasure enough for me,” he replied, his voice husky at the mere thought of her naked body next to his. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly, using just his lips.

Elizabeth returned the gentle kiss, wanting it to become something far more intense, more  powerful, more punishing in the hope it could soothe the ache that had infused her body. How could she wait until
tonight
? How could she survive the overwhelming desire that was coursing through her body even now? But George finished the kiss as lightly as he had begun it, pulling away ever so slowly. He turned to lead them back to the curricle, but just as she was placing her hand on his arm, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her body to his as tightly as he could.

As Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the hug, the feel of his hot, hard body against the entire length of hers made her feel as if she was being branded. The even harder bulge digging into her belly made her wonder if she might have some control in all of this; his body’s response was a reaction to
her
, she realized. But before she could truly enjoy the moment, George had pulled away and was straightening his coat and sleeves.

“I ... I apologize, milady.” His eyes were downcast.
How could I allow myself that impropriety?
Wasn’t it bad enough that he had not only agreed to her request to know
more
, but that he had described an evening of what some would consider debauchery?

He was going to remove every stitch of her clothing!
I’m a heathen
.

“Please, do not,” Elizabeth replied quickly, her head shaking with her words.

“I promised I would not steal a kiss.”
I am going to hell.

Elizabeth had to stifle the urge to throttle him. “You cannot steal what is freely given,” she countered, her manner suggesting she might suddenly be a bit perturbed with him.

A bit taken aback at her sudden ire, George considered her comment and wondered if he had annoyed her enough that she would call off the assignation. When she did not offer further comments, George finally nodded, holding his arm for her. “Thank you, milady.”
Maybe I won’t go to hell.

They returned to the curricle in silence, waking Anna as they climbed up. And for nearly the entire ride back to the Morganfield House, they said not a word.

As Elizabeth had listened to George’s schedule for that evening’s seduction – she could think of no other way to describe the way he had turned the tables on what she thought of as a simple request – her first reaction had been to look suitably horrified and say again, “How dare you?” and soundly scold him for his impertinence.

But the rest of her body would have disowned her voice.

How could his mere description of what he planned to do to her create such a cacophony of sensations through her body? And was he really going to remove every stitch of clothing she wore? She would be naked!
I’ve turned into a wanton woman!
Like the statue they’d just seen in the museum – of Aphrodite as she prepared for her bath –
except I’m not quite as fleshy, and I rather think my breasts are a bit rounder
.

Whatever was she thinking when she asked him to perform such a demonstration?

Obviously she was not thinking, she corrected herself, knowing that
had
she truly thought this through, she would have come to her senses and, when he asked why she seemed so nervous, she could have blamed it on the possibility that they might kiss while on their walk amongst the secluded path. Asking the man for a demonstration of kissing, as she’d done two nights before, was one thing; asking to be pleasured just to discover what it was like to be pleasured – before she was suitably married – was ludicrous.

Curiosity killed the cat.
What will it do to me
? 

As if in reply, a frisson coursed through her entire body. She gasped, stunned that the mere thought of George touching her would have such an affect on her.

But one thing – no,  two things – had been made perfectly clear during their discussion.

First, George Bennett-Jones was an honorable man.

He was not seducing her because he
could
. He was doing so because she asked it of him. What else would he be willing to do for her, if she just asked? she wondered. Did she have some kind of tantalizing affect on the man?
You can trust George ...

Second, in a surprise she could not have seen coming, at least not this soon in her relationship with him, he’d said that if she did not accept Gabriel Wellingham’s suit, then he planned to ask for her hand in marriage.

A few days ago, the news of Trenton’s plan to ask for her hand in marriage excited her, even thrilled her.

Now, she was not so sure.

After his attempt at a passionate kiss in the gardens during the Weatherstone ball, she thought only to tolerate kissing for the rest of her life. And then George Bennett-Jones made it perfectly clear during Lady Worthington’s ball that kissing could be an art form. Who knew the mere press and suckling of open lips and the touching of a tongue against skin could incite such sensations? Such feelings of ... intimacy? For he had kissed far better than she had ever imagined was possible.

If she compared the two, she would have to seriously consider George’s suit.

To be fair to Gabriel, though, he was an
earl
, she considered. And he was rich as Croesus. What did Mr. Bennett-Jones have to offer? She didn’t even know what the man did to earn his money! He exuded self-confidence in a way that surprised her, given he was not a particularly handsome man. And he behaved as if he was a gentleman, a man of means. He had to be fairly well-to-do; his fine tailored clothing (he had said something about spending money at Weston’s) and new curricle with its matched Cleveland Bays were evidence of that. And he’d mentioned his home in Mayfair.

She would be there tonight.

She would see first-hand how he lived, how many servants he employed ...

Her stomach took a tumble and she gasped.
His servants! 
Should any of them gossip, and servants always gossiped, she would be ruined!

George reached out a hand and placed it over hers. “What is it?” he wondered, concern etching the brow she could see as he kept his eyes on the road, expertly weaving the curricle in and around the traffic outside the park.

Elizabeth glanced around, surprised that they were already out of Hyde Park and in Oxford Street. Turning to see if Anna was still sleeping, she leaned over so that her lips were near his ear. “Do you employ servants?”

His eyes widening a bit, George took her meaning almost immediately. “An entire household staff of ten, of course, but I will see to it that not even my butler, Elkins, will be in residence this evening. Your reputation will be quite safe, I assure you,” he murmured, realizing he was going to have to invent an evening’s entertainment for his servants to go out and enjoy while he saw to Elizabeth’s. He wanted desperately to kiss her then, to assure her somehow that she had nothing to fear. He half expected her to change her mind, to apologize and request that he forget their entire conversation.

But Elizabeth Carlington wasn’t a typical lady of the
ton
, he was finding.

“I will provide a chaperone in the carriage, but she is of utmost quality and will be discrete.” At least, he hoped he could convince Josephine to be a chaperone. What would she think of this arrangement? He wondered if his mistress would scold him for having proposed such an assignation. “Do you know how you will ... take your leave?” he wondered then, realizing he had given her instructions and no opportunity to argue or counter what he’d said.

Sighing, Elizabeth thought of Lady Charlotte. Certainly her best friend would agree to be her excuse for the evening. They had already talked about playing cards. She didn’t dare
tell
Charlotte of her plans, though. She couldn’t imagine what she or Lady Hannah would think of her, although, as she gave it some more thought, Charlotte would probably encourage her.

This is what you want. This is what you desire. Don’t think too much.

Although she didn’t think she had feelings for George – he was not a man she would consider a potential husband – she knew she had already thought entirely too much. “I will say I plan to dine with a good friend, who is providing a coach and a chaperone. I will be home late,” she recited, as if she did this sort of thing every week. “See you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

George dared a glance at her and smiled. His suddenly handsome visage caught Elizabeth by surprise. “Tonight, then,” he said in a whisper as he handed her down and escorted her to the front door of Carlington House before heading back to the curricle to assist the maid.

Aware that Alfred had opened the door behind her, Elizabeth stood on the top step of Carlington House and watched as George escorted Anna to the house.
An honorable man
, she thought again. “Thank you for a lovely morning,” she said when George bowed over her hand.

“You’re very welcome, Lady Elizabeth,” he replied, aware of Alfred’s scowl as the butler stared down at him. “I look forward to our next encounter. Until then,” he tipped his hat. “I wish you a very pleasant day.”

Chapter 19
Arrangements for an Assignation

Once he took his leave of Carlington House, George headed straight for Josephine’s townhouse. He found his mistress at home, in her bath, in fact, preparing for an evening at the theatre. While George described what had happened in the park and his intention to prove himself to Elizabeth that very evening, he knelt behind the copper tub.

“What are you doing, George?” she wondered, sitting forward in the tub so that her breasts were pressed against her bent knees.

“I wish to help you with your hair, of course,” he answered in surprise. “You ... you’ve allowed me to in the past.”

Josephine gave him a smile and reluctantly leaned back. As he rubbed rose-scented soap into her hair, taking care to gently rub the suds through the long strands before pouring a pitcher of warm rinse water along her hairline, she sighed. “You’ll make your wife an excellent lady’s maid,” she teased, closing her eyes as a curtain of water streamed over her face.

“You once told me that having your hair washed by me was the most sensuous feelings you ever experienced,” he countered in a quiet voice, his hands squeezing water out of her hair before he refilled the pitcher and repeated the rinsing.

Josephine didn’t reply to his comment, but instead offered her assistance in planning the execution of the evening’s plan. She insisted on being involved, reminding George that he needed a wife and this was an opportunity for him to court a suitable woman.

Once she was out of the tub and wrapped in a dressing gown, she saw to most of the details for the evening, from the menu planning to arranging how George was going to return Elizabeth to her home by two in the morning.

But the details for
how
he would go about fulfilling Lady Elizabeth’s request had been left up to George. He couldn’t help but notice Josephine’s lack of advice in that regard. She lectured him at length about making sure he kept a pleasant expression on his face. Warned him that, despite how passionate he might feel about the lady, he would have to maintain control of himself. “If you are successful in pleasuring her – if she even allows you to touch her most intimate places – she may very well offer her virtue,” she’d said by way of a warning.

To which he had scoffed and replied, “Only in my very best dreams.”

One of her eyebrows cocked in a manner suggesting she was privy to rather important information. “Women can become quite wanton when they’re given half a chance,” Josephine countered, her arms crossing in front of her chest. Alarmed by the comment, George swallowed. Hard. His mistress could not help but notice. “Sensuality is not a sin, George,” she said with a shake of her head. “If she believes she is committing a sin is at any point during the evening, then you have lost.” And then she scolded him before reminding him that Lady Elizabeth’s motive for agreeing to the evening’s itinerary was borne of curiosity. “She has heard stories and wants to discover for herself if the claims are true,” she explained patiently, remembering her own thoughts on the subject when she was still a virgin.

When she was but seventeen, her mother, a courtesan of some skill and repute, tutored her and her sister in the arts of seduction and pleasure. And when it was time for them to make their debut, it was her mother who chose their first protectors. Her sister left England with a French paramour, an older gentleman who claimed he would continue her education and see to it she was compensated generously. For Josephine, her mother selected a member of the aristocracy, the son of an earl. The gentleman had been kind that first night, and very generous with his gifts, but his preference for bedding virgins meant she was soon dismissed with a modest settlement and replaced by another courtesan’s daughter. Her only other protector before George was a another member of the aristocracy, an earl who set her up in a small townhouse near Berkeley Square and kept regular appointments over the course of their five years together. It was under his tutelage that she developed an interest in politics and current events, realizing her lover appreciated their conversations as much as her skills in bed. His unexpected death meant a few months of uncertainty. And a few months to spend time at home. Time to get reacquainted with those from her youth. And the realization that a man to whom she had promised her virtue was the man she most wanted to spend time with. The man she wanted to marry, should Jack ever make his way in the world and be able to support a wife. But it would be years before he would be able to do just that.