The Pursuit Of Marriage (29 page)

“It’s Leo.” Cassie sank down on the bed beside her sister. “He’s watching me like he was a shepherd and I was a wayward lamb.”

“He has always kept a close eye on you. As have Christian and Drew.”

“Yes, and I am eternally grateful Drew is not here at the moment. Leo and Christian are bad enough.”

Cassie plucked absently at the fabric of the coverlet. “However, that does bring me to my current dilemma.”

“What kind of dilemma?”

“It’s not all that complicated.” Cassie slipped off the bed and crossed the room to the clothespress.

“We’re returning to London tomorrow and I simply must see Reggie tonight.”

“You’re certainly not dressed for a visit.” Delia cast a disapproving eye over Cassie’s nightrail and wrapper.

“Nonetheless, I must return something to him.” Cassie found her bag in the bottom of the clothespress, rummaged in it, and pulled out a long, white neck cloth. “This.”

Delia’s eyes widened. “His cravat?”

“Yes.” Cassie tossed it at her sister, then dug in the bag again. “And this.” She pulled his coat free with a flourish.

“Is there anything else?” A cautious note sounded in Delia’s voice. “Shirt? Trousers?”

“Don’t be absurd.” Cassie shook her head. “He never could have returned to his own room without his trousers at the very least.”

“Of course, what was I thinking?” Delia chose her words with care. “How did you come to have Berkley’s cravat and coat, or would I be better off not knowing?”

“You’d probably be better off not knowing, but if I don’t tell you, and you should find out, you’ll be quite annoyed that I didn’t confide in you.”

“It is a vicious circle.” Delia drew a deep breath. “Cassie, you didn’t…you couldn’t…”

“I most certainly could have, but,” Cassie shrugged and returned to plop back down on the bed, “I didn’t. At least not entirely.”

“Not entirely?” Delia’s voice rose. “What do you mean, not entirely?”

Cassie snorted with disgust. “Leo has the room beside mine, you know. It’s decidedly difficult to lose one’s virtue with your brother in the next room alert to any unusual sounds.”

“Good God.” Delia groaned. “I should have suspected as much.”

Cassie grinned. “Indeed you should have.”

“So then it’s to Leo’s credit that you’re not—or rather you haven’t—”

“It most certainly is, and I may never forgive him for it.” Cassie took her sister’s hands. “Now, however, I need your help.”

“To see Berkley?”

Cassie nodded. “Leo left his door open last night and again tonight, and I’m fairly certain he does so to enable him to notice if I leave my room.”

“Imagine him thinking such a thing,” Delia murmured.

Cassie leaned forward. “However, he expects you to leave.”

“What?” Delia stared in confusion, then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh no.” She tried to pull her hands away, but Cassie held them fast. “Absolutely not.”

“It will be an adventure.”

“For you!”

“We haven’t traded places in a very long time. It should be great fun.”

“Not for me. I shall be trapped pretending to be you. Besides, I’m not supposed to have fun anymore, I’m married.” Delia drew her brows together. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean that at all the way it sounded. I do have a great deal of fun—it’s just not the same kind of fun. Indeed, with Tony, fun is—”

“No need to explain,” Cassie said quickly. “I understand completely.”

“You do?” Confusion drew Delia’s brows together. “What do you understand?”

“I had a great deal of fun only the night before last.” Cassie cast her sister a wicked smile.

“That’s not what I—” Delia shook her head firmly. “I won’t do it.”

“Of course you’ll do it. It’s quite simple. We exchange clothes. In fact you need only give me your wrapper. Then I’ll pretend to be you and slip out of this room, although I suppose I needn’t slip at all and can certainly walk right out the door if I’m you.” Cassie grinned triumphantly.

“What if someone sees you?”

“They’ll think I’m you.”

“Indeed they will.” Delia narrowed her eyes. “What if someone sees you as me going into Berkley’s room? They’ll think he and I, well, I don’t even wish to say aloud what they would think.”

Cassie waved off her sister’s concern. “I shall be quite circumspect. Besides, it’s very late. I can’t imagine anyone would still be roaming the halls.”

“And yet, here I am,” Delia said wryly.

“Come now, Delia, I’m simply going to return these items to him and have a bit of a chat, and then I’ll be back.”

Delia studied her twin, then shook her head. “No you won’t.”

“Well, I shall try.” Cassie paused to choose her words with care. “I should think, given the number of times I allowed you to take my place while you were in pursuit of your husband…”

“I did not pursue him.”

Cassie raised a brow.

“Well, perhaps I pursued him a little,” Delia said grudgingly. “But I was a widow and experienced and…”

Cassie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Not vastly experienced, of course.” Delia huffed. “Still and all, the situation was entirely different. Cassie…” She met her sister’s gaze directly. “If anyone even suspected you had spent time alone with Berkley in his room, late at night, regardless of how long you were there or what you in fact did, you would be ruined. Your reputation would be shattered, and you’d be the center of scandal. Might I remind you, that is not nearly as much fun as it sounds.”

“I fully understand the risk, Delia. In truth, I understand more than you know.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Were my reputation to be destroyed, those ladies who clamor for me to decorate their houses and do so as much because of my name as because of my flair with color and fabric would no longer have anything to do with me.” She blew a resigned breath. “My business or pastime or whatever anyone wishes to call it will be at an end.

“Beyond that, while I am confident that Reggie cares for me and will wish to marry me, if I am wrong I could well spend the rest of my days as,” she wrinkled her nose, “the eccentric Miss Effington or even the daft Aunt Cassandra.”

Delia winced. “Could you bear that?”

Cassie shrugged. “If I must. What choice will I have?”

“If you go to Berkley’s room tonight, you could lose everything,” Delia said softly.

“Or I could gain the world.” Cassie smiled in a rueful manner. “I have already lost my heart.”

Delia stared at her sister for a long moment, then got to her feet with a fair amount of reluctance. “Come on then, help me off with this robe. The sooner you are on your way, the sooner you will return.”

Cassie grinned. “I knew I could count on you.”

“I want you back within an hour.” Delia’s voice was firm.

“Is that enough time?” Cassie cast her sister an all too innocent glance. “To chat?”

Delia’s jaw clenched. “It is if you’re simply returning a cravat and exchanging a few words.”

Cassie bit back a grin. “But I have a coat to return as well and a fair amount to say.”

“Yes, well, that might take a bit longer.” Delia heaved a resigned sigh. “Two hours then, and you’d best hope my husband does not awaken and wonder what has become of me.”

“Will he look for you?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never left him in the middle of the night to trade places with my sister so that she may avoid my brother and have an assignation with an annoying, imperfect gentleman,” Delia snapped.

“Yes, well, I can see that it doesn’t occur very often. Although I must say I quite like the word assignation. It has a terribly refined yet naughty sound on the tongue, don’t you think?”

“I think it has a sound similar to the word disaster,” Delia muttered. “I can’t believe I am helping you. Mother will have my head for this. Or Leo will. Or even Tony.”

“Nonsense, although I daresay your husband will understand, all things considered. As for Mother and Leo, they will never know, as I do not plan on getting caught. Now then, unless you wish to be here all night—”

“And I don’t.” Delia sighed once more, and Cassie resisted the urge to list all of Delia’s previous indiscretions, the details of which made a simple late-night assignation pale in comparison. It took the sisters only a few minutes to exchange robes.

Cassie gathered up Reggie’s clothes and started toward the door. “Do wish me luck.”

“Luck is the very least of what I’m wishing,” Delia muttered. “Please be careful. Try not to ruin my reputation as well as yours. And while I know your mind is probably made up and nothing will dissuade you, at least give the idea of doing no more than returning his clothes a moment of consideration.”

“I shall,” Cassie lied. She turned to go, then turned back and gave her sister an impulsive hug. “I know you think this is a dreadful mistake.”

“That’s one of the things that worries me.” Delia grimaced. “While it probably is, I’m not certain I do feel it’s a dreadful mistake. I know you too well, and I know you have never loved before. Given that, this late-night foray of yours seems rather inevitable. It’s not especially wise and could have devastating repercussions, but I would probably do the same thing myself.”

“And have,” Cassie said with a grin.

A moment later she made her way down the darkened hall. A lamp burned on a table at the top of the stairs that divided the wings of the house and cast a small pool of light. Reggie’s room was past the stairs, in the west wing. Cassie hoped she had done a better job of marking his room than he had of marking hers.

She started to knock, then caught herself. No, if his door wasn’t locked, there would be less possibility of being heard by someone else if she simply went into his room. She grasped the handle firmly, gathered her courage, and started to push open the door. An odd thought struck her, and she paused. What if he wasn’t alone? Country house parties like this were notorious for late-night visits between lovers or people who wished to be lovers. What if…

She drew a deep breath and firmly pushed all doubt from her mind. Every moment between them indicated that Reggie was not the man he was reputed to be, and Cassie doubted he could possibly be that good an actor. Still, if indeed he was, if everything that had passed between them was nothing more than a ploy on his part to get her into his bed, well, she had no doubt it would break her heart. One might call Cassandra Effington eccentric, but no one would ever call her stupid. She knew exactly what she was doing. What the stakes were and what the repercussions might be. And as much as she told herself she didn’t care, she did. It simply didn’t matter. She straightened her shoulders, pushed open the door, slipped inside, and closed it gently behind her. She started toward the bed, then paused to turn the key in the lock. Why, anyone could walk right in otherwise, just as she had. And regardless of what might or might not happen in this room, it did seem best that no one else wander in unexpectedly.

“Reggie?” She stepped toward the bed and ignored the quaver in her voice. Faint light filtered in through the tall windows, and even with the curtains open wide, there was little she could make out in the room save the shape of what was surely the largest bed she’d ever seen. She wasn’t even entirely sure Reggie was in it, but someone was. The sound of slow, even, deep breathing echoed in the room.

She moved closer. “Reggie?”

Still no response.

She stepped to the side of the bed and raised her voice a shade. “Reggie?”

A low “Hmm,” little more than a groan, really, sounded from the dim figure that sprawled across the bed. At least it did sound like Reggie, so she apparently had the right room.

However, this was a bit annoying. Here she was ready to give him, or rather, return to him his clothes and talk for a while, possibly about her feelings or his…

Even she didn’t believe that. She had come here with the express purpose of seduction. Hers or his she didn’t really care, and while she suspected, especially given their encounter in her room, that he was particularly good at seduction, she was certainly enthusiastic, which could not be discounted. She tossed his cravat and coat onto the end of the bed and leaned over him. She was able to see his form but little else, and reached a tentative hand out to rest on the spot where she hoped a shoulder would lay.

“Reggie?”

His flesh was bare and warm, and the heat of him traveled from her fingertips to wash through the rest of her. She blew a long, measured breath. If merely touching him was this exciting, how much more wonderful would it be to lie by his side? With his arms wrapped around her and her body pressed close to his.

She ran her fingers lightly over his arm. He slept on his back with one arm flung out to the side. She leaned closer and could make out his other arm folded over his head. She stared with unabashed curiosity. Either the starlight from the window was growing brighter, or her eyes were adjusting nicely to the dark. His chest was bare, the pale coverlet glowed in the faint light and hung just at his waist. She couldn’t see the details of his face, but she could vaguely make out his features. She traced a line from his arm over his shoulder and down to the center of his chest. His muscles were hard, his flesh firm, covered with a smattering of coarse hair. She rested her hand in the center of his chest.

It was a curious thing, to watch a man sleep, even in the dark. To touch him without his knowledge. To hear the depth of his breathing. To feel the rise and fall of his chest and the heat of his skin and the beat of his heart.

He slept without benefit of clothing, or at least without a nightshirt. She wondered if he was completely naked. The very idea sent a thrill up her spine. Her hand drifted slightly lower. She could easily find out, of course, but it seemed the kind of liberty even she would hesitate to take. Although he would never know. And she would certainly never—

“What are you doing?”

Cassie jumped, and her heart lodged in her throat. Heat rushed up her face. Never in her life had she felt so…so…so caught. It certainly did dampen her enthusiasm. She jerked her hand away, but he caught it and held it fast.

“Cassandra?”

She forced a casual note to her voice. As if he had not just awakened to find her in his room. As if her hand had not just been lingering on his chest. “Yes?”

There was a long pause.

“Is this a dream?”

“Yes,” she said with a sigh of relief. “That’s it exactly, you’re dreaming.” She tugged at her hand, but he held tight.

His voice was a low growl. “If I am in truth dreaming, I have no intention of letting you go.”

She swallowed hard. “You don’t?”

“Not yet.” He sat up and shifted and pulled her onto the bed. “Perhaps not ever.”

Before she could so much as protest he held her face between his hands and kissed her. A long, slow kiss that sapped her will and melted her soul.

Any lingering reservations vanished.

“Why are you here?” his lips murmured against hers.

“I came to return the clothes you left in my room.” Her voice was breathless.

“Is that all?”

“No.” She pulled free of his embrace and slid off the bed.

“Cassandra?”

“Do you have anything on?” She untied her wrapper, ignoring the slight tremble in her hands, and flung it to the floor. “Clothing, I mean.”

He laughed softly. “Why?”

“Do you or don’t you?” She started to pull her nightrail up over her head and hesitated. If she joined Reggie in his bed, there would be no turning back. She would be irrevocably on the path to ruin, and her life would be forever changed.

He was silent for a long moment.

“Well?”

“Have you come to seduce me, Miss Effington?”

She drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

“I see.”

She heard the bedclothes rustle, and his dark form slipped out of bed to stand before her, a scant inch or two away.

“Are you certain you wish to seduce me?” His voice was low and as seductive as his words.

“Yes.” She fairly sighed the word.

He was so close that if she leaned forward ever so slightly, she could press her body against his naked one.

“I see.”

His hands skimmed along her sides, gathering the fabric of her nightrail and she jumped at his unexpected touch.

“Then you must allow me to assist you.”

With one swift move he pulled the gown over her head and discarded it.

“And to answer your question,” he pulled her into his arms, “no, I’m not wearing so much as a stitch.”

“Yes, I am…most aware of that.”

Her breasts pressed against his hard and muscled chest. Coarse hair rubbed against her nipples in a provocative manner. Her naked stomach and her hips matched to his. The hard length of his arousal nudged between her legs, rather larger than she had expected. And extremely warm and most exciting. His lips met hers in a long, leisurely kiss that promised pleasure beyond what she’d already tasted. And promised as well something more. Something forever. And she wanted it all. Need, intense and demanding, spiraled up within her, and she threw her arms around him and pulled him tighter against her.

At once, all restraint between them vanished. He crushed his lips to hers in a kiss of plunder and possession. She countered in kind, meeting his lips, his tongue, with a hunger she’d never known, a greed she’d never suspected.

Cassie wrenched her lips from his and pushed him backwards, falling with him onto the bed, her body sprawled half across his. She rained kisses on his neck, his throat, his chest. His hands caressed her shoulders, her back, her bottom. She wanted to explore every part of him, discover every unknown inch, make him hers. She ran her hand up the length of his leg, the muscles solid and shapely, and she shifted her body to allow access to other heretofore undiscovered places. Her fingers trailed over the flat plane of his stomach, and he sucked in a sharp breath and stilled beneath her touch. She marveled at the power of her touch and reveled in it. Her excitement rose. Her hand drifted lower, and the muscles beneath her fingers tightened. She toyed with the hair at the base of his member and ran a tentative finger up its length. He gasped, and she wrapped her hand around him and slowly stroked the long, hard length. It was stone wrapped in silk, curious yet intriguing and inviting.

“Good God, Cassandra.” He groaned, pulled her hard against him, and rolled her over to lie beneath him. He straddled her legs and his arousal pushed against her. He trailed kisses down her neck, her throat, and lower. He cupped her breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples, and she moaned and strained upward. He took one breast in his mouth and toyed with teeth and tongue until she thought she would surely die from the pure pleasure of it. And wondered at the power he now held over her. He shifted to kneel upright, her legs firmly trapped between him. The cool night air danced over her fevered flesh. He caressed her breasts and traced circles and flourishes over her stomach, and she shivered at the delightful feel of his touch. He slid his hand between her legs and touched her again where only he had ever touched her before. She held her breath and tried to open her legs for him, but his knees held her tight. Still, he stroked her, and the pressure of her legs pressed together seemed to increase the sensation. At once unbearable and exquisite.

She writhed under his touch and welcomed that odd, sweet force building within her. Without warning he stopped and spread her legs, then lowered himself on to her, his member pressing between her legs.

“Cassandra.” Reggie propped himself up. “This could be painful.”

“I don’t care.” She laughed and drew his lips to hers. “I want you, Reggie. And I want you now.”

“Good.” A shudder sounded in his voice.

Slowly, with great care, he guided himself into her. She held her breath. It was most unusual, this feel of him inside her. He reached a point and could go no further, and she wondered if this was perhaps all there was. He slid back and then thrust forward. She felt a give and a mild sting and gasped. He filled her, stretched her, and she throbbed around him. It was odd but not unpleasant. He lay still for a moment, then slowly withdrew and just as slowly thrust again. No, it was not the least bit unpleasant. She rocked her hips slightly in tandem with his. Indeed, it was becoming more interesting every moment.

His rhythm increased, and she matched his movements. He buried himself in her. She tightened around him. He plunged deeper, harder, faster. She met his thrusts with her own, and they moved as one. All sense of time and place vanished. She existed only in the hot tension spiraling inside her. Only in the heat of his body locked with hers. Only in this mating, the dance, this union. Eternal and right and perfect.

The coil within her wound tighter and tighter and she welcomed it, yearned for it, demanded it. It came at last with a shuddering release that racked her body against his, and she felt him jerk against her and knew he too had reached that awesome pinnacle of sheer delight. He collapsed against her and she clung to him. His heart thudded next to hers, as intimate, as wonderful as everything else that had passed between them.

And she knew, with this man, she could fly.

A long hour or so later—in truth she had lost track of time, but she suspected it was nearly dawn—she lay cradled in his arms. She could lay here with him forever, but she had to return to Delia, who would probably not be happy by the lateness of the hour.

“We are returning to London tomorrow,” Cassie sighed and traced meaningless patterns on his chest.

“I know.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “Unfortunately, there are matters at Berkley Park I must attend to, so I shall have to stay another week or so.”