Company Of Rogues: An Unwilling Bride Part 33

He deftly changed their positions so she was lying in his lap. Clever fingers made short work of the drawstring at the neckline of her gown. Beth made a brief, instinctive move of denial but then relaxed. She was his. He smoothed the creamy material back from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Ah, my darling," he breathed softly as one long finger slowly circled first one nipple then the other. Watching her with a loving smile he played with her. Beth was trapped by his pa.s.sionate eyes as her body was caught in delicious, spiraling magic. Then his mouth came down, warm and moist to tease her.

Beth released a shuddering sigh. "Oh heavens. Oh, Venus and Mars," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, laughing.

"I'll tell you sometime. Not now. Don't stop."

"Oh, I won't, my love," he said huskily, his fingers returning to their magic game. "Just promise me there's no surprise guest next door. No secrets lurking."

Beth shook her head, hot and dizzy. "Nothing." She feasted her eyes on his beauty. The long muscles of his neck begged to be stroked, and she raised her hand to them. Then she boldly slid her hand inside the neckline of his shirt to feel the rippling muscles of his shoulder.

He caught his breath and she hesitated. "Am I allowed to do this?" she asked.

He stripped off his shirt. "You can do anything, Beth. Touch me anywhere. Ask anything of me."

Beth looked at his beautiful torso and licked her lips. It was finely muscled and tawny from some type of masculine outdoor exercise. She wondered what, and if she might have the chance to watch. There was a line of golden curls down the center of his chest, and she reached up to tangle her finger in them.

"You are very beautiful, my husband."

"And so are you, my dearest wife."

Beth moved to plant little kisses over his warm and silky skin and found this brought her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest, where they found a new delicious pleasure. She heard his breathing become ragged and delighted in it. Perhaps Venus could take part as well as Mars. She let her tongue begin to trace moist patterns working towards his small, flat nipples. He stood suddenly with her in his arms.

"My room, you requested, madam?"

"That was only because of Clarissa," Beth mumbled, continuing her delicious work.

"Never mind," he said unsteadily and twirled her around and around across the room.

At the door he bent slightly and Beth turned the k.n.o.b. They progressed through the sequence of rooms somewhat unsteadily, but finally arrived at his bedroom.

Beth had never been here before. It was, as he had said, very much like her own save that the colors were greens and golds, not blues. The bed was larger and had a canopy over it with curtains hanging down which tied back against the wall. When he laid her down on the silken cover, she saw the underside of the canopy was decorated with his coat of arms.

Beth chuckled. "For the glory and honor of the de Vaux!" she declared, opening her arms.

He fell beside her on the bed so that the whole solid frame shuddered. "Indeed yes. Lots and lots of little de Vaux. Don't mind the escutcheon," he said, laying a flat possessive hand on her abdomen. "It was commissioned by my grandmother for my father. She didn't think he was sufficiently aware of his dignity."

"The duke?" Beth queried in surprise. Her mind seemed to be neatly divided-one half in pa.s.sion, aware of his hand as a fire which burnt its way into her, the other still capable of rational conversation. She decided to try fingers on his nipples. Then, gently, her nails.

Lucien sucked in a sharp breath. "He was... less starchy in his youth, I gather. Beth!" He captured her hand and kissed each fingertip moistly. Then he began to suck on them. He rolled onto his back and carried her with him so she lay on top of him. "Don't worry," he said as his fingers loosened the waist-tie at her back, "I've been sleeping under the thing since I left the nursery and it hasn't stiffened me yet." The drawstring fell loose, and her dress was held in place by nothing at all.

Lucien's fingers played messages on her bare back. "But speaking of stiffening...." he said softly.

Positioned as she was, Beth was perfectly, and nervously, aware of his stiffening. All unconsciously, she wriggled, and he caught his breath and held her still. With a wicked smile, Beth fought his hold and wriggled again. She had never realized what fun it could be to stir a response.

"G.o.d save me," he muttered and rolled her off him. "Listen, you delicious wanton, you can seduce me and drive me to incoherent delight as often as you want after the first time, but I'd rather have some hold on my senses just now."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to hurt you, my love," he said seriously, cradling her head, "and believe it or not, I've never taken virginity before."

"That's ridiculous."

"Why?" he asked as his hand slipped down the front of her body and came to rest at the cleft of her thighs. "I can't see that it adds to the pleasure. Look what it's doing to us now. I could be lying helpless under your delectable, wriggling body." He leaned down and brushed his lips softly over hers. "Let me love you, Beth, and carry you to delight. This time, just let me love you...."

It hardly needed the touch of his lips to spin her beyond thought, beyond control, beyond everything except pure sensation. His hands worked tantalizingly up her body beneath her loosened gown. It was up and over her head and she was naked. She hardly noticed, except that it was better to have her skin against his. She wrapped her arms around his chest and filled her mouth with his flesh. It was a hunger she felt. A driving need to engulf and possess.

He left her briefly and returned. Now the contact was complete, head to toe. He parted her legs and moved between. Suddenly, the hunger, the need, the ache, all centered there.

"Lucien," she moaned.

"I know, love," he said unevenly. "I know." He began to slide slowly, tentatively, into her. Beth's need coalesced into driving hunger. This. This was what she wanted. She rose to meet him and the brief pain was nothing. She wrapped her legs around him in fierce delight.

She lay in the dim evening light, resting her head on his shoulder, playing gently with the sweat-damp curls on his chest. "That was remarkable," she said.

"Thank you," he replied. His chest shook slightly with a chuckle.

"Oh. Was it just you, then?" she asked with an a.s.sumption of innocence. "Would it not be like that with anyone?"

"Beth," he warned.

She turned on her front and looked up at him. "No free love?"

He tried to look stern. "Only with me."

Beth began to feel breathless again just looking at him. A Greek G.o.d. She'd thought that when she'd first seen him, and it had terrified her. Now it excited her. His hair was in disarray and darkened by sweat along his brow. His color was heightened, and his eyes seemed a brighter blue than ever. His magnificent body was stretched beside her, smooth and muscular. Hers. Hers to touch, to taste, to take within her.

"And you?" she asked. "Will there be free love for you?"

He gathered her into a fierce embrace. "Impossible. I can't imagine wanting any other woman, my pearl. You radicals do have a way of taming the aristocracy, don't you?"

"We'll do anything for the cause," said Beth contentedly.

It was a considerable time later that they ordered a meal. It was already dusk and the candles had to be lit. They were hungry by then, but that didn't stop them feeding one another tidbits and stopping often for a kiss. They talked of their time together and the time before they had been together. For the first time they shared the hidden parts-the hurts and disappointments of their lives, the hopes and the dreams.

Beth tentatively raised the question of social issues and found that in his own way, he was not indifferent. One of the reasons there were so many servants in the de Vaux houses, he told her, was to give employment. It was family policy to buy local products as much as possible and they were careful of the needs of their tenants.

Beth's instinct might say that it was not enough when the family continued to live in such rich state and yet she had learned to balance two very different realities. Little purpose would be served by the de Vaux family going off to live in a cottage on dark bread and stew. It was enough for the moment to know that her beloved did not look on hardship with callous indifference.

The clocks were striking midnight when they extinguished the guttering candles and climbed into the big bed to snuggle together. Beth let her hands stroke over the beloved contours of his back, but he captured them.

"Oh no, you don't, you enchantress. I'll go odds you'll be sore enough tomorrow as it is. And I'm only a mortal man, you know."

But Beth was a clever student and would not be restrained. "Hoc volo, sic iubio, sit pro ratione voluntas," she said with a grin as she slid on top of him and wriggled. "I refuse to be reasonable. What I want, I get. And I want to seduce you to incoherent delight."

She saw his eyes darken, but he grabbed her to try and hold her still. "Back to the schoolroom for you, my girl," he said huskily. "That is not a good translation."

Beth nibbled on the nearest tasty object, which happened to be his earlobe. His grip relaxed. "At a time like this, Lucien," she muttered, "you expect a good translation?"

"I've lost faith in the cla.s.sics entirely," he said unsteadily as she moved to one side and her hand wandered down past his navel. "G.o.d, Beth...."

She found the hot, velvety firmness of him. "And what have the cla.s.sics to do with this?" she asked softly.

"Juvenal," he said like a groan. "'Nemo repente fuit terp.i.s.simus. No one becomes depraved in a moment.' The man was a fool, or he just didn't know anyone like you." Softly in the dark he added, "Poor man."

Chapter 22.

The next day Beth had considerable trouble getting rid of her husband. She knew how he felt. She could hardly bear to be out of his company for a moment and yet it was necessary for her plan. She wasn't at all sure he would approve.

Military matters helped. They breakfasted together sharing a copy of the Times and reading the Duke of Wellington's dispatch. As yet there was no news of casualties except for the death of the Duke of Brunswick.

"It was clearly a terrible battle," Beth said at last.

"But a great victory. See what it says, 'A complete overthrow of the enemy.' Wellington's not one for hollow boasts. Napoleon's done for at last."

"But at what cost?" She was thinking of all the soldiers, but chiefly of the ones she knew, Amleigh and Debenham. It was unthinkable that those merry, vibrant young men, no older than Lucien, be dead, and yet it could be so. There had been that report that said Amleigh's regiment had suffered.

She saw the look in Lucien's eyes. She didn't really understand this group of friends he had, Nicholas and the rest, but it was clearly a deep relationship. It would hurt him bitterly if any of them suffered. Hurt them all.

She laid her hand over his. "When will the lists be out?"

"At any time," he said. "They may put out a special edition of the paper."

Beth sighed. "There's so much grief just waiting to be unleashed. I'm thinking what it would be like if you were there."

His hand tightened on hers. "And we're just hoping the people we care for aren't on the list."

There was no ulterior motive when Beth said, "Why don't you go to your club or to the Delaneys'. There may be more to discover."

"You don't mind? Or you could come with me to Nicholas's"

"No, I'd rather stay here for now."

He left her with a kiss. Beth knew he shared her guilt at being so happy, so fulfilled, when the happiness of others was all at an end. It was always so with war, she supposed. Today London would echo with the cheers of victory while many, many people wept.

Eventually she got a grip on herself and put her plan into action. She claimed she was going back to bed and didn't want to be disturbed. As soon as Redcliff had gone away, however, Beth got up again and dressed. She carefully applied the concealing cosmetics to her face though she couldn't persuade herself that they would fool careful scrutiny. Blanche knew the worst anyway. Then Beth chose the old clothes she had brought from Miss Mallory's and her most concealing bonnet. Inconspicuous, she hoped, she crept down the servants' staircase and out of the coal-room door.

She needed to contact Robin, for she still wasn't certain of the way to Blanche's house, and she needed to speak to him without alerting anyone to her "escape" from Belcraven House. She bit her lip and chuckled as she glanced up at the ma.s.sive mansion. It was ridiculous to be creeping out like this when no one could actually stop her if she chose to walk out of the front door.

She'd probably drive Lucien to contemplate violence again, once he found out what she was up to. That she felt no tremor of fear told her she really did trust him. She knew she had a foolish smile on her face as she slipped down towards the mews.

What excuse could she make for her visit, and how could she speak to Robin alone? For excuse she could say she was visiting Stella. The poor beast had been given little enough exercise since Hartwell-only two trots in the park. Privacy with Robin was more of a problem. Granger or Dooley would appear like a shot when the marchioness visited the mews.

She was rubbing Stella's soft, velvety nose when Granger appeared.

"Good morning, milady. Can I help you?"

"No thank you, Granger. I just wanted to visit Stella. I hope he is being exercised."

"Never fear, ma'am. Robin takes him out. The only horse he's much good for," the man grumbled. "And, begging your pardon, it does the scamp no good to be taken away from his work and given privileges. Getting above himself for sure."

"Oh," said Beth, concealing a smile as she saw her excuse. "That is unfortunate. Perhaps I should speak to him about it."

"Well, there's no need-"

Beth gave him a de Vaux look.

In a few moments she was talking to Robin in Stella's stall. The boy eyed the horse nervously all the time.

"Really, Robin," said Beth, "you can't possibly be scared of Stella. He has the sweetest nature."

Robin just looked down sullenly.

"I do think it would be better if you let us find some other position for you," she said gently. "Is there nothing you'd rather do?"

The boy wriggled around and scuffed up some wisps of hay. "Don't mind as long as I serve him," he muttered.

Beth understood at last. Pure hero worship. "I'll think about it, Robin. Now, I want you to take me to Mrs. Hardcastle's. Without telling anyone."

The boy looked up, wide-eyed. "I can't, milady. Old Granger'll have me hide. Honest he will."

"Robin. If I give you a task, it is nothing to do with Granger."

Robin fidgeted some more. "The marquess told me not to," he muttered at last, looking down.

"The marquess! When?"

"This mornin'. Said if you asked, I weren't to."

Well, the cunning rogue, thought Beth, not unhappy to be back in a battle of wits with her husband. She bit her lip as she thought.

"Can you tell me how to get there, Robin?" she asked at last.

He looked up. "You'd never go by yerself, milady!"

"Why not? It didn't seem a very dangerous route."