The Viscount's Kiss (18 page)

He ran his fingertip around the neckline of her nightgown. “No thieves or poachers afoot?”

“None of which I am aware,” she replied, sliding her hands up his lean arms to his broad shoulders.

Feeling bold and mischievous, very aware of his body above hers, she smiled. “Perhaps I came to see your tattoo.”

“Ah, and did you?”

“Yes, so I could win the bet at White's, if I were a member.”

He laughed softly as he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “No one will ever win that wager, because the proof would require me to expose a portion of my anatomy to those I would rather not.”

She reached down to the approximate location of the tattoo.

“Perhaps you would have been wiser to have it on your arm or chest, like a seaman.”

“It was all I could do to get them to stop when they did. Among the Tahitians it's a sign of adulthood for the men to have that portion of their body covered completely by a tattoo.”

She tried to imagine that. “Is it painful?”

“Less painful than having to sit so far from you at supper,” he murmured, gliding his mouth over hers. “And only slightly more painful than having to make polite conversation afterward, when all I really wanted to do was this….” He kissed her lips. “And this.” He kissed her neck. “And this…”

His lips slid downward toward her breasts as he undid the drawstring at the neck of her nightgown. “I suppose I should suggest that your presence here is highly improper and likely to cause a scandal should we be discovered
in flagrante delicto
. However, I find I am much too pleased and delighted to protest.”

“Good,” she said, brushing her fingertips along the dark T of hair between his nipples and down toward his navel, where she felt the growing evidence of his arousal.

He kissed her again, with more urgent need and she responded in kind. Bending her knees, she shifted so that she could feel all of him, while his hand slid inside the neck of her nightgown to her breast. As he gently kneaded the soft weight, she reached down to bring him closer, aware that her legs were bare, and her gown bunched about her hips.

His breathing heavy, he moved slightly to the side, so that he could caress her where she was moist, and ready.

She felt him hesitate. Knew what he feared and, for a moment, thought he meant to stop.

Whatever happened, she wanted him to love her fully, completely, as she would never love another. She didn't want to wait. She wanted to be with him now.

She reached for the neck of her nightgown. The fabric was old and thin, and with her own hands she tore it, until she lay beneath him naked and willing.

E
ven then, Justinian hesitated as his heated gaze swept over her body.

Impatient, as determined as he could be, she seized his face between her hands and captured his mouth with fierce and hungry need. As she did, she wiggled closer and reached down, guiding him where she wanted him to go.

“Please,” she pleaded, panting, her voice a harsh whisper. “Please. There are ways to prevent…aren't there? The girls at school said so. If you stop…”

“Yes, there are ways,” he rasped even as he finally gave her what she craved and pushed inside. There was a pain, a moment's anguish, gone as soon as he began to thrust.

She felt the same tightening, the urgency, stronger than before. Anticipating that wonderful release, she arched against him, bare flesh to bare flesh.

His thrusts quickened and became more urgent, more powerful. The sinews in his neck grew more visible and his rough panting sounded in her ears.

Gasping encouragement or moaning softly, she wrapped her legs around him, instinctively locking her ankles to hold him close.

The sweet pressure, the glorious tension, grew. Muscles tightened. Toes curled. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out…

And then—

And then, release, like a star shooting across the sky in the darkest part of night and she panted like an animal as her body rose of its own accord.

With an answering groan, he pulled back, head bowed, jerking as his seed spilled onto her naked stomach.

She caught her breath as he slowly sat on his haunches, bracing himself with his arms on either side of her while he drew in great gulps of air.

“My God, I've never…” He paused, then shook his head. “I've never felt anything like that.”

“Because I was a virgin?” she asked, even more jealous of the other woman who had been in his arms.

He smiled and shook his head. “Because I've never cared more for a woman.”

“Nor I for any man,” she assured him.

She watched him as he climbed off the bed and went to fetch water in a Wedgwood basin and a towel of fine, soft linen.

“You've ruined your nightgown,” he noted. “That may be difficult to explain.”

“I have another just the same,” she said as he returned. “Now I'm glad they're so plain. No one will be able to tell the difference. I'll hide this one beneath my other undergarments.”

“I should have realized you'd have a plan,” he said, sitting beside her.

He dipped the towel in the water. She held out her hand, but again he shook his head. “Let me,” he said as he began to wash her stomach, and then between her thighs. “This provides more opportunity to observe your naked body—and a particularly fine naked body it is, too.”

In spite of what they'd done together, she blushed as he washed her. “I feel like one of your spiders.”

“You are even more lovely than an
Argiope bruennichi.
”

“Is that intended to be a compliment?”

“Oh, yes. It's a very beautiful spider.”

“Then I thank you, sir.”

“As I thank you.”

Finished his ministrations, he turned to set the basin on the table beside the bed. “Do you know, I don't think I've ever enjoyed a visit to the ancestral acres more.”

She sat up, then reluctantly rose and picked up the remnants of her nightgown.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, his brow furrowing as, still magnificently naked, he got up from the bed. “You've had your way with me so now you'll rush off?”

“I would rather stay, but if I'm found here, my lord—”

He took her in his arms and silenced her with a kiss. “There is a little time yet before that becomes a concern.”

Taking her hand, he sat on the bed, then drew her down beside him. “But what is this
my lord?
”

“Habit, I suppose,” she said, nestling beside him as they lay back on the soft pillows.

Habit, and because she couldn't ever really forget the gulf of rank, title and fortune that lay between them. Not even here. Not even now.

She ran her fingertip up and down the line of dark brown hairs from his navel to his chest. “I wish I could sail with you. We went to the Isle of Man once, in very rough weather, and I didn't get seasick.”

Her tone was teasing, but she spoke only half in jest. She would gladly go with him to the ends of the earth, if he would ask her. “Perhaps I should stow away.”

“You've never been in a ship's hold, have you?” he asked gravely. “There's scarcely room for a rat to run and the stench from the bilge would knock you flat.”

Not willing to abandon that proposal just yet, and despite his grim tone, she said, “I could disguise myself as a boy and sign on with the crew.”

“That would be even less likely to succeed. You are much too pretty and your figure would give you away.”

“I could bind my breasts, cut off my hair and dirty my face.”

“Which just goes to show how little you know of life at sea. There is no privacy on a ship the size we will have.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. “I'm not happy to be leaving you and the thought of having you with me is very tempting,” he said softly as he caressed her cheek, “but it's not just life on the ship that's difficult. There are storms and wrecks, islanders who may welcome you or decide you'd make a nice addition to the pot, and you
don't know which until you land. And pirates aren't the merry brigands some ballads suggest. They are terrible brutes and a swift death would be a mercy if we were ever captured, especially if you're a woman. I've seen…” He drew in a ragged breath. “I would kill you myself before I'd let you fall into a pirate's hands.”

“You make it sound terrible indeed,” she whispered, her fears for him increasing, and she was tempted as she'd never been before to do what Lady Granshire had asked her to do, to use whatever means she could to keep him in England.

But what then? They could never marry and she would be the destroyer of his dreams.

She moved away. “It's time for me to go.”

He laid a hand on her bare arm. “If I were going to the Mediterranean, or even the coast of Africa or the West Indies, I would take you, but not where I'm going. It would be far too much of a risk, and while I'm willing to take that gamble with my own life, I won't with yours.”

She nodded and got out of the bed, the air making her shiver as she reached for her dressing gown.

“There's no need for you to get out of a warm bed to see me to the door,” she said, trying to sound happy. “I can manage on my own.”

“I want to see you to the door,” he said, climbing off the bed.

“If the noblewomen of England had any inkling of the body beneath your clothes,” she said as he pulled on a pair of trousers, “they would be even more eager to meet you.”

He laughed, then pulled a face. “They torment me enough as it is. I certainly wouldn't want to encourage them.”

Her torn gown over her arm, Nell went to the door. He met her there, and smiled down at her. “You're the most
wonderful, remarkable woman I've ever met, Nell Springley, and if ever I were to ask a woman to wait for me, it would be you.”

Ask me!
she silently pleaded.
Ask me and I will.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. “Good night, Miss Springley.”

“Good night, my lord,” she replied.

And as she slipped into the corridor, she was sure of one thing:

Even if he didn't ask her, she would wait for him.

 

“You wished to see me, Mother?” Bromwell asked as he entered his mother's sitting room a few days later.

As usual, she was reclining on her chaise, and this morning, she looked pale, with dark circles under her eyes.

Remorse nipped at him. He hadn't yet spoken with Dr. Heathfield about her treatment and he should have, regardless of his desire to spend every moment he could with Nell. “Have you been drinking chocolate in the evenings again?”

Although he had no scientific basis for his query, he suspected there was something in chocolate that affected sleep, for he'd often noticed that his mother would become more energized after drinking it, then complain that she hadn't been able to fall asleep later.

Not unexpectedly, however, she always ascribed her sleeplessness to a different cause, as she did today. “How can I sleep peacefully when you're leaving England again?”

He had no answer to that, so he made none as he sat across from her on a well-upholstered chair. He had to hide a wince, for he'd pulled a muscle last night when demonstrating the
upa upa
for Nell. He'd been telling her about
the dances of the Tahitians, and she'd confessed to seeing him dance by the pond. Once he'd gotten over his initial embarrassment, he'd explained that he danced because it was excellent exercise.

She'd begged a demonstration, he'd complied, and somewhere between the dance, her attempts to imitate it and what had followed, he'd pulled a muscle in his side. It was a slight strain, and only hurt if he moved a certain way, but he didn't want to have to explain the source of that twinge to his mother.

He also sincerely hoped she hadn't summoned him here because his intimate encounters with Nell had been discovered.

“I've had a letter from your father. He requests that you join him in Bath as soon as possible. Apparently he requires your assistance with a financial matter.”

His relief that her summons had nothing to do with Nell was swiftly overcome by baffled curiosity.

His father wished to consult with
him
on a financial matter? Despite his coming of age, his father had never shared information about his financial affairs or estate business before. “What sort of financial matter?”

“He doesn't say. Only that it's important, and he expects you to join him at The King's Arms this afternoon.”

That was typical of his father—no explanation or opportunity to refuse, simply an order and the expectation of obedience.

However, he had no other pressing demands upon his time, except for wanting to be with Nell every available opportunity, and the request was so unusual he nodded his agreement. “Very well, Mother. I'll stay the night in Bath and return in the morning.”

“I've already ordered a horse saddled for you.”

Bromwell didn't think riding would aggravate his slight injury and so, dutifully, rose. “If you'll excuse me then.”

“And would you stop in at the apothecary's? I need some more of my medicine.”

“I'll visit Dr. Heathfield while I'm there. I'm concerned this latest medication is not as effective as it should be, considering your continuing sleeplessness.”

“I feel quite wonderful after my morning dose.”

Her comment led Bromwell to suspect the main ingredient in Dr. Heathfield's latest medication was some kind of narcotic that induced euphoria, possibly an opiate that could be dangerous if taken too long, or in too high a dosage.

“Nevertheless, Mother, I want to be sure it's not doing more harm than good.” He gave her a loving smile. “After all, you aren't the only one who worries.”

She reached out for his hand and pressed it to her cool cheek before she wordlessly let him go.

 

Bromwell found Nell in the garden, looking like a nymph in a gown of soft green, her overtunic dotted with small embroidered roses. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone, as he would have preferred even for this temporary and short-lived parting. Drury and Juliette were with her.

“Ah, Buggy, here you are!” Juliette cried when she saw him walking toward them on the gravel path.

“I hope your mother isn't unwell?” Nell said, blushing when their gazes met, as if recalling certain portions of the
upa upa
done while he was naked.

He found himself blushing, too, as he replied. “She's a little tired, but otherwise well. She's received a letter from my father asking me to meet him in Bath this afternoon. Apparently he has some business he wishes to discuss with me.”

Drury, who was well acquainted with the earl, was as surprised as Bromwell by the request. “He's never discussed such things with you before, has he?”

Bromwell shook his head and, when he answered, spoke as much to Nell as to his oldest friend. “Not once, so I think I should go, and unfortunately it must be right away. I won't be back until tomorrow.”

“Of course you must go if your father requests your help,” Nell said quietly.

“It wasn't exactly a request,” Bromwell replied with a wry smile. “A command, more like.”