Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin (17 page)

She sighed and pushed him back until he sat on the mattress. ‘Then I fear I shall be no good at all. I have no intention of stopping you, and missing this opportunity. If I did, and some misfortune would befall us, if you were to change your mind…’

‘I would never.’ He laughed again, into the hollow between her breasts.

‘Or if my father should forbid us…’

Now that was a distinct possibility, and one he did not wish to think about just now. So he leaned his head to the side and caught one of her nipples through the fabric of her nightgown.

She gave a gasp of shock, then put her hands to the back of his head to push his face into her breast, all thought of disaster fleeing from her mind.

And his as well. She was the sweetest thing, and her heart beat wildly against his cheek as he suckled her and reached to ease the hem of her gown up higher over her hip. With his other hand, he teased the place between her legs until her knees began to give way. ‘Take off your nightgown for me. Let me see you.’

She hesitated, as though this act was the one that would prove her intentions to herself. But she did as he asked. And he fell to his knees before her, burying his face against her body. ‘Do you know how long I have wanted to do this? Since the first moment I saw you in breeches.’

‘You told me that it was only to make the riding easier…’

‘And it was,’ he assured her, kissing her thigh.

‘But all the while you were looking at my legs.’

‘They are very nice legs,’ he admitted, kissing them again, and pushing his hand between them, slowly lifting the palm up until it could go no farther. He raised his head to look at her. ‘I admired your breasts as well. Without a corset to hold them, they swayed whenever you moved.

‘You are horrid.’

‘Very much so. Let me show you.’ And he followed his hand with his tongue and lapped at her sex.

‘Mr Hendricks!’ In her surprise, she had fallen back to her old ways of barking prim orders at him.

And so he responded in kind, and said, ‘Lady Drusilla,’ then covered her with his mouth. And for a while, all she could manage was a few stifled moans, then gasping as her hips bucked in his hands, and finally settled, soft and open as a dew-soaked flower.

He lifted his head to kiss her belly, regretting that he had not bothered to undress before her arrival. But her smooth white hands were tugging at his shirt, and he rose and let her fumble at the fastenings of his clothing, the timidity of her hands all the more erotic. When he could no longer stand to wait, he hurriedly undid the last of the buttons, stripped to his skin and then laid her down on the bed and himself down beside her. Then he placed his member on the palm of her outstretched hand, curling her fingers around it and teaching her to stroke.

Now it was his turn to moan, for she was a quick study, eager to please him, climbing on top of him and pleasuring herself by using his body to touch hers, rubbing him in the wetness between her legs until he was near to sliding inside her.

He cupped her bottom and pulled her forwards. ‘Tonight I will remember to leave your body before I spill my seed.’

‘You will not,’ she said.

‘But we dare not risk…’

‘I do not care.’

There was much she did not understand about the risk of children and his inability to feed them should they arrive before he had secured another position.

And then the thought fled, for she was experimenting with movement, flexing the muscles inside her body to trap him, rising up and dropping back again in a slow rocking that felt incredibly good. He leaned away from her, wanting the feeling to last and watched her touching herself as she moved until she shuddered in the throes of orgasm, her hair damp with sweat, covering her beautiful face in a veil as she lost control.

She opened her eyes and looked down at him, smiling in wanton surprise as she realised that he was still hard, still in need.

And he felt the aching tightness growing inside him and tried to rein it in, remembering that one of them must keep their head. But she broke that control as easily as a twig, moving on him again, scratching his chest, pushing her ripe breasts into his palms and leaning forwards to bite and suck at his shoulders and throat, marking him as hers.

He could stand it no longer. He rolled with her until he was on top, driving into her over and over, his mouth on hers to stifle both their groans so that they came together in a rush of silent, shaking power. He collapsed on her body, skin to skin. ‘A night is not enough,’ he whispered. ‘I need you. All of you. Naked beside me.’

‘Me,’ she whispered back, still surprised.

‘Of course, you. My darling, my beautiful Dru.’

She nestled close to him, her smile growing soft and fond. ‘Tell me again that you love me.’

‘I love you,’ he said simply, feeling the inadequacies of the words. ‘I wish there was a way that I could prove it. I would shower you with diamonds, if I had them. Rubies and pearls. I’d dress you in silks—’ and then he stopped. For the likelihood of any of that escaped him. If she came to his house and his bed, she would be leaving luxury behind.

‘Just words, please. I like to hear you say it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Words and actions.’

* * *

The night had passed quickly. And the dawn left John wondering how he would manage to sit a horse for another day’s ride without falling asleep in the saddle. He stroked the hair of the woman in his arms, feeling thoroughly depleted by her and satisfied in all ways but one.

He prodded her arm. ‘Dru, wake up and speak to me.’

She gave a groan and then ducked her head beneath the covers, kissing his chest.

‘Enough.’ He pulled her up his body, so that he might look her in the eyes again. ‘Do not try to hide from me. For if you remember, when I invited you here, I said there were things to discuss.’

‘And we have hardly talked at all,’ she said, with a wicked smile, as though it were an achievement.

‘We will be in London soon,’ he said. ‘A day or two at most.’

‘I know,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And then it might all be over.’

‘What the deuce? Of course it will not,’ he said. ‘You have not been thinking all this time that I meant to let you go, have you?’

‘I fail to see any other way that this can end,’ she responded.

There was a sudden and unexpected tightening in his throat at the fear that he had been mistaken in her feelings. ‘I thought that, after what has happened, it would end in our marriage. You said you loved me. And that you would have me, if I wished.’

She looked at him with eyes full of both worry and pity. ‘Do not feel that you have to do that, Mr Hendricks.’

And there was that ‘Mister’ again, as though she had not lain in his arms these past two nights, murmuring ‘John’. ‘You are still describing a possible union between us as though it were some sort of obligation.’

‘Is it not?’ she asked. ‘You feel that, since you have dishonoured me, you must make the offer.’

‘Of course I do,’ he said, exasperated.

‘And you have said you loved me,’ she said, with a happy sigh. ‘And I love you as well. And because of that, I do not wish you to feel bad for what shall happen.’

She was being puzzling again, as she was sometimes. ‘You speak as though it would be a hardship to wed you.’

‘It cannot be what you expected, when you set out from London,’ she pointed out.

‘Of course not. But just because a thing is unexpected does not make it unwelcome. And I know I am unworthy. But you must tell me plainly, right now—will you have me or no?’

‘Of course I would have you. I would like nothing better. If…’

‘There need be no ifs or buts, Drusilla.’ He wrapped an arm around her body, hugging her close. ‘I do not wish to hear them.’

She sat up, gathering the sheets around her body. ‘But now you must. We cannot be for ever on the road, my love. We will be back in London, just as you have said. And while I will take you gladly, my father will most certainly refuse to let me go.’ She hesitated. ‘You do mean to ask him, don’t you?’

It would be so much easier if he did not, for she was likely right. If they simply turned their backs on London and went back to where they had been, he could take her over the border, just as Gervaise had tried with her sister. And though there was nothing fragile about his Dru, their love was new and might not stand the shock of the duke’s displeasure. ‘Of course I will ask him.’ He looked up at her, reassuring.

‘And when he says no?’

John grinned at her. ‘Do not be so sure of that. I mean to make a very persuasive case for myself.’

She smiled at him fondly. For a moment, he imagined seeing that smile, just as it was, each morning for the rest of his life. Then she said, ‘It will not matter. He has plans of his own in regards to the marriage of his daughters. And for all we might want it to be otherwise, they do not include you.’

‘Are you promised elsewhere?’ Again, panic gripped him, low in his stomach. For though it had not been Gervaise, perhaps his assumptions had some small grain of truth in them.

She shook her head. ‘I have been far too busy seeing to Priscilla to think of such a thing for myself. And my father has been satisfied to have it so. If I marry, then who shall watch over her?’ It was clear that the obligation of her younger sister was such a solid and palpable thing that she could imagine life no other way.

‘Your father has the means to hire a companion. He must have considered it at some time.’

And there, when he looked in her eyes, was a curious blankness and a growing puzzlement, as if it was hard for her to imagine a life where she was anything other than spinster companion to the vivacious Priss. ‘But then, why hasn’t he?’

The hurt was so plain that he felt it in his own breast. She was like an animal so accustomed to its cage that an open door did not signal escape. And in that moment, he hated the duke, and was sure that Dru’s predictions were correct. The man would hate him in return for daring to ask for her hand, and his birth would have nothing to do with it. For whatever reason, Dru was not meant to marry and never had been.

So he took her in his arms, letting the anger and frustration leave him in a kiss that left her breathless with its force. ‘I do not know, darling,’ he said, when it was through. ‘All I know is that I want you, and with all my heart. Despite what you may think, it is not a sign of desperation, or a weakness in my character to do so. If I have a fault, it is that I am prone to aspire far above my station. And now I have set myself the task of winning a woman of great wit and beauty. I will go to your father, whether it is wise or no, and I will ask for your hand. And we shall see what he has to say in the matter.’

‘And when he refuses?’

He looked into her eyes, so that she would know he was serious. ‘Then I suppose it will be up to you what happens next. I do not mean to be parted from you, until you send me away.’

Chapter Eighteen

I
want you.

The words were still ringing in her ears as the carriage made its way the last miles of the road to London. The echo of them was almost loud enough to block the continual sighing of her sister, who had grown tired of the journey and was shifting restlessly in her seat and offering meaningless interjections that broke Dru’s train of thought.

John had been very specific about that. And very insistent. She hid the smile on her face by turning to look out the window.

‘I wish you had not come for me, Silly. It would have been better if it had been Father.’

Dru glared at her. ‘And he would have raised such a fuss that the whole house would have known of your disgrace.’

Priss sighed. ‘You will manage to hush it up and the whole trip will be for nought. Still, I suppose it is better that you found me when you did. I could not manage to drag my feet any longer. And if we’d have crossed the border, I might have ended up married.’

‘I am glad that you are finally coming to your senses,’ Dru said. ‘But you need not worry. Mr Hendricks has got rid of Gervaise and he will never bother you again.’

‘Nor I him,’ Priss said emphatically.

‘You must not take the blame for this upon yourself,’ Dru said, trying for a change to be a comfort and not a scold. ‘You could not have known, when he took you from the house, what he was planning.’

Priss laughed. ‘You do not still have some ridiculous idea that he forced me into the carriage, do you? I worried at the poor man for ages to get him this far.’

Dru could feel the knot of nerves in her head tightening again, as they always did when she tried to reason with her sister. ‘Did you not realise what such a decision could do to your reputation?’

‘Destroy it utterly, I should think. Of course, if I had been forced to marry him, it would have been better in one sense. I would have been off the market and totally forgotten.’ But she gave a little shudder as though there was nothing to like at all about the idea of wedded life with Gervaise. Then she brightened. ‘Now I shall simply be thought loose.’

‘You foolish girl,’ Dru exploded. ‘Marriage to Gervaise would have meant penury, isolation, hardship. You cannot think that Father would condone such a union, nor contribute in any way to your well-being if you made the match.’

Priss gave her a weary look. ‘I suspected he would first try to undo it. And if he was not able, he’d have cut me off. But that was the only way I was likely to escape.’

‘Escape? Whatever do you mean? You have everything you need, Priscilla, and have not known a moment’s strife since the day you were born.’

‘Nor have I known a moment’s freedom,’ her sister pointed out, and there was the smallest of frowns on her pretty face as she did it. ‘You are wrong to think I can destroy my reputation over something so small as this.’

‘I know you will not,’ Dru said, with some bitterness. ‘Because when we are properly home and Father is finished shouting, we will find a way to make it disappear.’

Priss gave her a strange smile. ‘I hope not. Perhaps I am beyond redemption. Then we shall be spinsters and grow old together. Will that not be nice?’

Dru thought of Mr Hendricks and blurted, ‘It most certainly will not.’

And she was surprised to see Priss falter. For a moment, there was a sparkle in her eyes that looked almost like the beginning of tears. Then her little sister regained control and smiled again. ‘Well, never mind. You needn’t worry that I will be a burden on you much longer. Father will pave it over, as smooth as glass. And when he has selected a husband for me, I will marry, and that will be that.’ She sighed again. ‘In the meantime, I suppose there shall be parties and picnics full of men to flirt with. And that will be some consolation.’

‘When Father hears of what you have done, you will be lucky if he does not send you straight back to Scotland for an extended period of rustication.’

Priss looked at her speculatively. ‘And you must come along with me. That might work well for one of us, now that I think of it.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ But there had been that sudden, unavoidable image of making her own trip to Gretna Green.

‘Of course you don’t, Silly.’ Priss rolled her eyes. ‘But even if we are sent from town, within a year I shall be right back to London and married to the man of our father’s choosing. It will be the sort of man who values the good opinion of Benbridge over mine, and is willing to overlook my unfortunate past. He will be more concerned with the advancement he might gain than the foolishness of his wife.’

‘No matter who you marry, you will never know want,’ Dru insisted. ‘And it is not as if Father is likely to choose a cruel man to wed you.’

Priscilla laughed again. ‘After three days with Gervaise?’ She gave a little shudder of disgust. ‘I think my only want is to remain unwed. And I shall be experiencing a permanent want of that shortly. As to whether or not my husband will be cruel? I doubt it matters one way or the other to Father. My husband will be rich and politically well placed.’ She gave the coldest smile Dru had ever seen on that sweet face. ‘But he is unlikely to be the heir to a dukedom, now that I have sullied myself. Father will have to settle for a second son, or perhaps an inferior.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘God forbid that he find nothing better than a baronet for me.’

Dru’s already short temper snapped. ‘And God forbid that you should settle for the man offered, when he will at least take the time to find you someone. There are others in the family that have even less freedom than you, and are just as unlikely to ever see a Season. Nor will we marry the man of our choosing.’

‘Mr Hendricks,’ Priss said with finality. ‘Say the name, Silly. We are in the privacy of the carriage, with no one else to hear. You can admit to me that he is the one you want.’

‘I…I have no idea what you are talking about,’ Dru faltered.

Her sister gave her a sly smile. ‘Mr Hendricks. Do not pretend that you have not thought of marriage with him. The man has been bedding you from London to Gretna and back. Oh, do not give me that look, Silly. I may be a sound sleeper, but not so sound as all that. I heard you creeping down the hall this morning, on your way back to your room. And I saw the look on your face when I kissed him. And his as well. He looked, for all the world, as though he had sucked a lemon.’ She smiled. ‘You need not worry. I have no intention of saying a word to anyone on the subject. And I applaud you for your good sense in this matter, taking advantage of my misbehaviour to have a little of your own for a change.’

‘I did nothing of the kind,’ Dru said, stomach roiling at the betrayal. It would be good, even for a moment, to tell someone the truth. To ask advice. Or to share the joy of it. But if she wished to defend her sister’s honour, she could hardly admit to the cracks in her own.

Priss sighed again, sounding weary beyond her years. ‘It would be easier between us if you trusted me, Silly. Just a little. Then we could talk as sisters, and it might not seem so…’

Priss was looking at her, as though waiting for some sign that she might lower her defences. It hurt to stay silent, almost as much as it had to lie about her feelings for John. But she had decided years ago that Priss needed a mother more than a sister. It was too late to retreat. And so she said nothing, giving her dear little sister the same stern look as she always did.

And Priss broke her gaze, staring in defeat at the floor of the carriage. ‘Very well, then, Silly. Nothing has happened to either of us on this trip. We will remain in London, stifling in the heat. I will say nothing of the truth. Nor will you. Papa is likely to be very cross with you, for letting me run about so.’

And then Priss looked her in the eye, and her gaze was, for want of a better word,
knowing
. Now that Dru had experienced love herself, there was no missing the fact that Priss was as knowledgeable as she. ‘And we both know he does not wish to know the answers to the questions he is most likely to ask. We will go home and live in silence and denial, just as we always have, until Father chooses an appropriate husband for me. Perhaps then I shall have you stay with me, to keep me company. You will have more freedom in my house than you will in his.’ Priss thought for a moment. ‘Considering the sort of man that Father is likely to pick, it would be quite useful to have someone to explain where I have got to, when I choose to be somewhere other than where I am expected.’

‘You are planning alibis for your infidelities, even before you know the identity of your husband.’

Priss gave her a blank stare. ‘It is better to be sensible and prepared, Silly. Have you not taught me that?’

‘But that is not what I meant at all.’

Priss stared at her, as though she could not believe her sister’s stupidity. ‘Then you have been using your considerable organisational talents to no purpose. Our lives as I have described them are just as they are. Father means for me to be married. And for you? I doubt he thinks of it at all. I am his favourite. We both know it, although you will not admit it to yourself. With Mother gone, it has been your job to watch over me. Where I go, you will follow. Or you can stay in Father’s house, play hostess and housekeeper, and grow old while he dangles the possibility of marriage until even you see how laughable it is.’

‘No.’ She was beyond speech now, beyond thought. With only that cold and very real future stretching before her.

Priss squeezed her hand, and said softly, ‘It was not just my childish inability with Drusilla that lead me to call you Silly. You really are the most foolish girl. But it is all right, darling Dru. I will take care of you. If I can, I will force my husband to hire your Mr Hendricks. Then you shall visit me whenever you like.’

So that was to be the plan of the rest of her life: she was to be guardian of her sister’s fragile reputation. And since Priss had no care for it herself, she was to be little better than an abbess, arranging liaisons, and making sure that the truth did not become too well known.

She looked back at Priss, disheartened. ‘It was not until just now that I realised how aptly you have named me, Priss. I would need to be quite silly, to have such a life.’

She glanced out the window again, her fingers clasping the edge of the frame and praying for even a glimpse of John Hendricks.

And as though he could sense her desire, he rode even with the window and smiled in at her. Then he signalled to the driver to stop. It was not yet luncheon, and they hardly had need of it, for they had been on the road for only a few hours.

But Priss accepted it eagerly, and was out of the carriage as soon as the steps were down, as though she could not wait to be away from her sister. After the conversation they’d shared, Dru felt uneasy as well, and was glad for a respite.

And John came to her in the only way he could. He was polite, formal and distant, as though there was nothing more important between them than to discuss the condition of the roads. ‘Lady Drusilla?’

‘Yes, Mr Hendricks.’ She waited until she was sure her sister was out of sight, and the grooms and coachmen were busy with the horses. Then, very deliberately, she smiled at him.

John returned her smile, looking more like a shy lover than a servant. He took a moment to fiddle with his spectacles, composing himself, until he was simply Mr Hendricks again. ‘How is your sister faring, on the return?’

‘She is resigned to it, I think.’ Dru frowned. ‘And less than happy with her lot in life. But there is very little I can do for her, in that respect.’

‘Now that I am sure you are safely on your way, I will leave you to find your own way home.’

‘No!’ There was nothing proper or composed about her response. The single word came, so sudden and anguished, that the servants looked up, ready to come to her aid. Even Priss turned back to see what the matter was.

‘It is all right,’ John said back in his composed servant’s voice. ‘We will not be parted for long. Only a day or two. And I have a reason for it. If I am to see your father, I do not wish to arrive along with you, half-shaved and covered with muck. I am going on ahead to prepare myself for the visit, and to prepare the way for you, as well. It might be easier for you if I explain what has happened before you arrive.’

‘And what, precisely, do you mean to say, Mr Hendricks?’ Priss had returned to them, and was standing a little way away, looking daggers at him.

He looked back, bland, innocent and, as always, helpful. ‘That I am unsure of the reasons for your departure. But that I happened to meet Lady Drusilla while travelling, and she was most distressed. I found you in the company of a Mr Gervaise, who was a base and unworthy fellow. I gave him a sound thrashing and made sure that he would bother you no further. Then I aided you in returning home. You are both shaken by the experience, but in good health. Does this meet with your satisfaction?’

‘Well enough,’ said Priss. ‘It will cause the least trouble for Silly, at any rate.’

‘But you will visit, when we have returned?’ If nothing else, he could say goodbye. If Father sent him away, she was entitled to one last kiss.

‘Of course I will visit. As soon after your arrival as is decent.’

Priss laughed. ‘It does me good, Silly, to see you in such a state. With me, you act as though you are made of granite. But at the brief loss of Mr Hendricks, you are very nearly wringing your hands.’