How To Rescue A Rake (Book Club Belles Society 3) (25 page)

Rising early the next day, Nathaniel rode immediately to Wollaford, where his first order of business was to apologize for the deception with the curricle. But he found George Plumtre out and his sisters apparently at a dress fitting in town. His mother greeted Nathaniel as she always did, apparently not bearing any grudge toward him for keeping Diana apart from them at the concert.

“As long as Miss Makepiece enjoyed herself, Captain,” said Mrs. Plumtre earnestly, “all is well with us. We have grown very fond of the lady. We
all
have grown fond of her.”

He knew she meant George, of course.

“I had hoped, madam, to have a word with your younger son this morning. Is he expected to return soon?”

She assured him that George would be gone some time, but she did not seem able to say where he went. Or if she knew, the lady had been commanded not to inform Nathaniel. There was something strange about it, but he did not want to make her uneasy, so having stayed a polite quarter hour, he took his leave and rode to the lodge.

His reception there was less forgiving. Jonty was not at home either, and after a hasty inquiry, he learned from the footman who opened the front door that Diana was also gone, off to the dress fitting with the Plumtre sisters. This left Lady Elizabeth Plumtre in the drawing room when he entered. She made no attempt to hide her disdain and accused him at once of being out to cause scandal and besmirch the Plumtre name. Not to mention the Clarendon reputation.

“I wish you would take that awful Caroline Sayles and leave Bath before you cause any more trouble. Surely you have imposed upon my husband’s hospitality long enough. Even he is not so dim as to continue opening his doors to a man who embarrasses his family, flirts shamelessly with his little sisters, lies blatantly to his face, runs off with his wife’s companion, and leaves a notorious concubine to distract his brother.”

“Yes, I am aware that my actions last night were not those of a gentleman. I came here today to apologize to George and to Jonty.”

“And yet neither of them are at home to you. Can you be at a loss to realize why? You are not welcome here, Captain. You have, as they say, outstayed your welcome at Wollaford. I suggest you stay away for your own good. And for Diana’s.”

He had nothing more to say that could be civil and decided he had better leave before he lost his temper. There was a time when he would have uttered a parting rude remark to make the lady fall down in a dead faint.

But she was not worth the breath.

Fortunately, he knew where that dressmaker was located, did he not?

* * *

“I am not certain. It seems a little…low at the bodice.” Diana looked in the long mirror. She had rarely seen her full reflection except in a clean window, and even then it was usually distorted. Today she could take in the entire shape and it was worrisome, to say the least. Had she grown plumper in just a few weeks, or did her new ball gown and undergarments provide her with several inches of more obvious curves? The food at Wollaford Park was always very good, and she had eaten plenty of it. Perhaps she ought to slow down, she mused.

No need to try everything put before her.

She flushed, thinking suddenly of Nathaniel and all the things she meant to try with him.

The dressmaker smiled and showed her that a pretty lace tuck could be used if she felt herself too exposed. But Susanna and Daisy exclaimed that they really didn’t think she needed it.

“Why should you hide your bosom?” cried Daisy. “There is nothing amiss with it and everyone knows it’s there. If men had a bosom, they’d show it off at every opportunity.”

Diana corrected her. “One does not say
bosom
, Daisy.”

“Then what does one say?”

“One should not generally refer to it at all.”

The girls laughed at her blushes, and the dressmaker took her down the corridor to a changing room where Diana could slip out of her new gown in privacy. She was relieved to escape inside that small room, close the door, and no longer have to look at herself in the mirror. It was most disconcerting to see oneself from the toes up.

Hands began to unhook her from behind and she thought nothing of it, assuming one of the dressmaker’s assistants had waited for her to return from the viewing room.

Until she realized the fingers were very slow and not at all dexterous. And rather more keen on tickling than in removing her gown. She turned in surprise.

“Sherry!”

He placed a finger to her lips and she hastily swallowed the sound.

Drawing her closer, he kissed Diana and she felt the joy take hold of her again. Would every time he kissed her be like this? She hoped so.

She whispered, “How did you get in?”

“I have connections in Bath.” He grinned.

Of course he did, she thought. How many other women had he waited for in these little rooms? She didn’t want to know.

For now he was her audacious, wicked Sherry. And she was complicit in his crimes.

“I knew this was yours,” he added, pointing to the familiar muff hanging from a hook on the wall. “I had to see you, Diana. Make certain last night was not just a dream.”

Oh, she knew how he felt.

She nodded, catching her breath.

Slowly he kissed her again, gently, and then made his way down her throat. “Hmmm.” He pressed his wet lips to her breasts where they rose and fell above that fine lace. “I like this gown. I approve.”

“I am glad. I’ve never had a gentleman pay for my dress before.”

He dropped to a stool in the corner and she sat astride his lap, exploring his hair and his face with eager, nibbling kisses. “A gentleman?” he growled. “Who? Tell me the blackguard’s name.”

“Sir Jonty, of course.”

“You lie. It’s not Jonty who pays for this.” He hooked one finger around the silk and lowered it to plant another kiss against her breast.

“It is!” She wriggled, reaching for the fall of his breeches.

“It is some man with designs upon you.” Nathaniel stopped her hands and pinned them behind her back. “Some rake who plans to get under this pretty frock.”

“Nonsense!”

“Oh, yes, it is. A man who wants this”—he gathered up the skirt and tickled his way up her thighs and over her stocking tops—“and this.” He spread his fingers, tightened his grip around her thighs, and slid her closer. “And this.”

She gasped as he touched her in that intimate spot.

“This sweet treasure,” he whispered.

Diana tried to keep silent, but he did not make it easy. He knew exactly how to touch, caress, withdraw, and tease.

With his other hand he reached up to run his fingers over her trembling, lowered eyelids. “But he also wants these.” His caress traveled to her ear, looping a stray curl behind it. “And these.” Down across her cheek his fingertips swept, to her lips. “And these.” Then finally down to her breast where he placed his hand over her heart. “And this.”

“This rake wants a great deal too much,” she managed.

“That’s why he pays for your gown,” he assured her huskily, the other set of fingertips pressing and circling, quickening their strokes.

“I assure you he—uh. Oh.”

“Hmm? What’s that, Miss Makepiece? I didn’t quite hear that.” He grinned slowly.

Her body quivered, her nerve endings tingled, and every muscle in her body tightened as the blissful waves rolled over her.

With his entire hand he cupped her sex and squeezed, intensifying the tremors until she bit her tongue and tasted blood.

“He wants all of you, madam,” he whispered. “That’s why he has already paid the dressmaker for her services. And her discretion.”

Diana opened her eyes. “You? But Sir Jonty—”

“Will find the bill already paid. Anonymously, of course.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “I don’t want you buying things for me.”

“You wanted a lover,” he reminded her softly, sliding a finger over her damp, sensitive flesh. “This is the sort of thing lovers do.”

She had to take his word for it. His eyes were very light and very blue that day, and she imagined floating on her back in a warm bath. Naked. An indecent thought of the type he was more and more often planting inside her mind. Apparently without meaning to do so.

Suddenly, her mind made up, she slid off his lap and went to her knees between his strong, broad thighs. Before he could stop her, she had freed his roused organ from his breeches.

“Diana,” he groaned. “Take care. Don’t go too far. I can’t hold—”

“But darling,” she purred, “this is the sort of thing lovers do.” And she lowered her mouth over his staff, suddenly extremely glad for one of those shocking conversations she’d once overheard between Rebecca and Jussy.

Nathaniel’s thighs tensed, but his hands fell to his sides, then to her hair. He grunted, shifting on the stool. “I can’t hold back,” he muttered under his breath.

Well, as Jussy would say, when a person was in trouble anyway, they might as well make it worth their while.

* * *

He helped her up when she was done and set her on his knee again.

“Make love to me,” she whispered. “All the way.”

“Here?” He chuckled softly. “Demanding, aren’t you? And altogether too reckless today.”

“I’m tired of waiting.”

“It would ruin your lovely new white frock,” he murmured in her ear, his breath skittering over her skin.

“Then take it off me.”

He laughed huskily, softly. “Oh no, no, no. That would be more temptation than a rake like me can withstand.” Even one that had just spent, he mused. It wouldn’t take him long to be roused again in her presence.

“Then don’t withstand,” she urged.

“Diana, behave yourself.” He grabbed her wrists and kissed her palms.

She pouted. “It is just my fortune, sir, that the moment I am ready to misbehave, you are determined not to.”

“I think we misbehaved quite enough,” he muttered. “This rebellion of yours…”

“What about it?”

He trapped her chin in the vee between his thumb and fingers. “Is it only for me?”

Nathaniel Sherringham had never been so uncertain in his life.

* * *

About to give some pert, evasive answer, Diana stopped and reconsidered. A certain vulnerability was apparent in his expression. She had never seen it before, and it made her want to put her arms around him, to lay her soul bare before him.

But for how many years had she watched this merry rogue flirt and seduce while she stood in the shade, desperately trying to keep her heart locked safely away? Not knowing whether to take him seriously at all. She recognized now how much she had yearned for him. But that old Diana had punished herself, forbidden herself the pleasure—just as her mother stored those precious spices on a dark shelf and never dared use any.

She smiled at him, her heart aching with so many emotions. None would be denied any longer. Diana took his fingers and pulled his hand away, saying gently, “No. This rebellion, Captain Sherringham, is for me. And only me.” It was about time, she thought, that she did something purely for herself.

He nodded, his narrowed gaze on her lips. After a breath, he said, “Stop writhing in my lap. You’re being an unbearable tease.”

The solemn moment had passed.

“Does it hurt, then?” she said, brows curved.

“Immeasurably,” he assured her.

“I thought I just cured it.”

“That, I fear, was temporary.”

Fingers tapped against the dressing room door and a polite voice asked if she needed assistance.

“No, thank you,” she called back. “I’ll be out shortly.”

Nathaniel slid the shoulders of her dress down and kissed her skin, nuzzling the valley between her breasts where they rose above her new chemise. She felt his lap growing under her again and shifted her weight to his left thigh.

“You will come to the Wollaford ball on Friday?” she asked, running her hand carefully over the ridge in his breeches.

“After last night, I ought to keep my distance from Wollaford. I don’t want to cause trouble. Christ, Diana, I should never have driven off with you like that. What must they all think of me?”

“That has never bothered you before!” Keeping his distance? He was not doing that now, she thought, amused. “You had better come to the Wollaford ball, or folk might think we have something to be guilty about when I have assured them all on the contrary.”

He finally gave her a lopsided smile, like a boy caught misbehaving. “Very well. I will see you there, Diana. Save a dance for me. If you are not scooped up by all the other gentlemen who will fall under your spell in this wretchedly exquisite gown I so foolishly purchased for you.”

Diana wanted to laugh out loud, but of course she could not. For once she believed it when he told her how she looked. Her heart thumped madly, joyfully. Yes, she felt beautiful at last.

She kissed his lips hungrily, devouring his soft groan of desire. Was he waiting for more assurance that he was the only one? He did not push for it and she was relieved, for she might have given in. This carelessness was harder than it looked.

He slid a hand between her thighs, under her fine new gown again, drawing his fingertips slowly and tenderly over her roused flesh until she wanted to purr. As her neck arched and her head went back, he kissed the base of her throat. “I should make you promise to dance with me all evening,” he murmured, his breath warm, tickling her moist skin. “I have never felt so possessive in my life. So envious of any man that looks at you.”

“Poor Sherry. I’m sure you’ll manage.”
I had to
, she thought.
For years I had to
. She gasped, shivering, caught in the grip of passion as he caressed her skillfully to yet another slow, blissful peak.

“Even when you are out of my sight, Diana,” he groaned hotly into her breast, “you are never out of my mind, damn you. I swore I would not make a fool of myself again with you. It’s an obsession. It must be.”

And then he took her over the edge and she plummeted, biting her tongue to keep from crying out. Her eyes closed tight, she melted—parts of her quite literally.

Well, he had always said he would thaw her out.