Lady Harriet's Unusual Reward (6 page)

He cupped her breast, hoping it would make her see sense. When his thumb flicked over the distended peak hidden under layers of clothing, she made a little noise of pleasure in the back of her throat. A beautiful throat that was now extended and needing to be kissed. He pressed light kisses down the narrow column, towards her chest, then back up before he travelled into very dangerous territory. Along her jaw line he peppered little kisses before capturing her mouth, this time tenderly, the way he should have done the first time. The way a lady should be kissed.

She melted into him, both arms around his neck, kissing him back as if her very life depended on it, her tongue matching his, stroke for stroke, tentatively at first, then more boldly.

One of her hands moved over off his shoulder and under his coat, exploring. Her gloved palm rested on his waistcoat over his heart which appeared to be trying to leap out of his chest. He moved his head, kissing her deeper still, eliciting another little pleasure noise from her. He wondered what noises she would make when his tongue moved over her… But no! She was an innocent and this was already too far.

He tried to draw away but her hand held his head in place as she continued her tongue’s explorations. He could not bring himself to wrench himself away from her. When her hand on his chest moved lower, around his waist on onto his arse, he nearly stopped breathing. Harriet was delightfully innocent and wonderfully curious. She had no understanding of the power of her own sexuality, just as Sarah had not in the beginning. Thoughts of Sarah made him more determined to pull away from the embrace this time. Sarah had been the last woman he had kissed and the last woman he had made love to.

He turned his head slightly and Harriet’s lips grazed the side of his mouth, then his cheek. A little whine of displeasure came from her and he moved her head onto his chest, trying not to reject her out of hand but to cool the heat of their passionate embrace.

“Harriet, we are at a
ton
entertainment. Anyone could catch us.”

“Oh!”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. He no more wanted to end this encounter than Harriet did. It had been six years since he’d had a woman in his arms. He had forgotten how right it felt—how necessary. He barely went out into company, so he was barely entranced by the fairer sex. On the odd occasion lust got the better of him, he had a right hand to sort out the necessary in the privacy of his bedchamber. But now, with this soft, fragrant creature rubbing her cheek against his waistcoat, catching her breath, he could not understand how he had survived this long.

“Let me see you and check your hair,” he said. Harriet lifted her head and took a step back. He tilted his head and considered her coiffure before catching one stray curl that seemed to come from the middle of the part that was swept up. “I think this bit needs pinned up again,” he said. “But otherwise, your style seems undamaged.”

Harriet took the lock of hair and, biting her lip, fidgeted with one section of her hair for a minute before triumphantly looking up at him.

“Is it still falling down?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Fine. How do I look?”

He adjusted the shoulders of her gown and swept his gaze over her. “Your lips are a little swollen. I guess people will think we have been kissing.”

“Oh then we may make it into the scandal sheets.”

“Perhaps. I thought you did not want to marry anyway.”

“I am marrying you.”

“Perhaps.”

“There is no perhaps about it, Stephen. May I call you Stephen? I have had my hand on your posterior.”

Stephen coughed to hide his bark of laughter. The chit was incorrigible.

“I suppose you may as well. May I call you Harriet?

“You may. If you are a gentleman, and you claim to be one, then you will marry me as a reward for saving Phoebe. You did say anything. So gossip in the scandal sheets is immaterial.”

And with that, she turned around and swept back up the garden path, leaving Stephen with no other option but to hurry after her and catch her arm so he could accompany her back inside the ballroom where everyone could see them and draw their own conclusions.

Chapter Nine

Harriet looked up as William barged into the breakfast room the next morning, loudly explaining to the butler that he did not need to be announced in his own house. He was followed by a skipping Phoebe and a disgruntled-looking second son of a duke.

“Lord Oldbeck, Miss Charville, Lord Stephen, good morning,” said Harriet politely, pasting a polite smile on her face and indicating to the footman to bring up more tea and toast. “Please sit and join us. Have a cup of tea at least.”

“Can I have breakfast, Harry? Charville is in a foul temper. Something to do with you in the scandal sheets and he dragged me here before I could get my ham and eggs.”

She turned a bright smile to her brother.

“Of course you can. This is your house, after all. Just because you are staying with Lord Stephen temporarily does not mean we would starve you.”

“You are in the scandal sheet? Is that because you and Lord Stephen were kissing in the garden?” asked Mary.

“You and Papa were kissing?” Phoebe looked from Harriet to her father, her little nose scrunched up and a look of sheer disgust on her face. “Why do grown-ups do that? It’s horrible.”

“Good God, we did not kiss,” shouted Stephen throwing himself onto the dining room chair beside Harriet. “The scandal sheet is wrong as usual.”

Harriet placed her cup on her saucer.

“Phoebe, did your father ensure you had breakfast or are you hungry too?”

Phoebe looked at her father and bit her lip, obviously unwilling to rat out her beloved papa. Harriet nodded and rose to collect a plate. She placed a couple of slices of toast, some ham and a poached egg on the child’s plate. She moved to turn back to the table but met with a wall of male chest.

“I apologise.”

“For what? Lying or blaspheming at my breakfast table, my lord?” she hissed.

“Both?”

“You did not seem particularly sorry when you were…” She drew in a deep breath, remembering where she was and that she had an audience who were all agog. Luckily, she was good at whispering. “Oh never mind. I do not accept your apology, simply because it seems less than heartfelt. You do not even seem to know what you are apologising for.”

“Well I think Lord Stephen did kiss Lady Harriet last night. Her hair was all mussed at the back when they returned from the garden,” said Mary, giving William a knowing look.

“Maybe they did more than kiss,” said William.

“That is enough!” cried Harriet, her voice just short of a screech. She drew in yet another deep breath, regained her composure and looked from her brother to his fiancée. “This is the breakfast table, there is a child present and we are polite company. Could we please refrain from discussing kissing or anything else that would carry on from such an act? It is not appropriate.”

“Kissing is horrible anyway,” said Phoebe, as Harriet laid the plate of food before her.

“I quite agree,” said Harriet.

“You didn’t agree last night,” came a low rumble in her ear. It took a mere two seconds and she could easily have missed the soft caress of a thumb across the exposed flesh of her neck, but she knew she had not when Stephen picked up his knife and fork and began to tuck into ham and eggs.

Why was every nerve in her body alive? And why was a man who maintained he did not want to marry her intent on vexing her in such a manner? She wanted to climb onto his knee, straddling him and then… what? Well she did not actually know but something told her that it would be pleasurable and that Stephen would know what to do.

****

“Well Miss Paton will make a wonderful addition to our staff, I believe. She seems bright, willing and more than able to keep both Phoebe and Mary in line. Hopefully she will be able to teach Mary appropriate dinner conversation and quickly.”

He hoped so. He didn’t need another meal that went along the lines of breakfast. He had wanted to kill someone by the end of it.

“It is hardly Mary’s fault that she says what she sees. My hair was a mess when I returned from the garden last night.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“You kissed me, my lord.”

“You did not object, my lady.” Oh he was a cad putting all this on her, but how was a man supposed to have resisted?

“Why should I?”

“To protect your reputation.”

“What reputation? The spinster sister of an imbecile? Why do you think I am not married, Stephen? People are concerned it runs in the family. They do not want to take the chance that my first-born will be like William. I am no use to a first son. I am not even much use to a spare like yourself.”

“Do not speak of yourself like that.” Why did she always put herself down? And why did she shine such a harsh light on the ways of the
ton
? He was no fan of society, for sure but it had its place and he understood it. It was part of the reason he shunned it. And he was comfortable with his decision.

“Like what? Oh come now, Stephen. We all know that women are nothing more than brood mares. Your sister-in-law has not produced the heir to your brother’s title yet. Are you not being pressured to marry and produce sons just in case?”

“No. And as for Elizabeth. Please do not speak of her in that manner. She has had a difficult time.”

“I apologise. I do not mean to speak out of turn. I mean only to remind you of the realities of the situation, and that you have duties too. But any children we have are unlikely to be like my brother. I doubt even his children will be like him. And that is another reason he needs close family around him. So that his children can have people around them to help them learn to read and show them the ways of society when it is time. That is why we must marry. And that is why I will not allow you to distract me from this course of action.”

Stephen was sat on the high-backed chair next to the hearth and gestured for her to take the other one. They were in the library of Oldbeck House having just interviewed and agreed employment terms with Miss Paton. Harriet shook her head.

She began to pace.

He loved watching ladies walk in their thin muslin gowns. Not much was left to the imagination—the way the fabric clung to their legs and hips. And Harriet was no exception. He could feel heat gathering under his cravat.

Devil take it.

Suddenly she stalked over to him and plonked herself down on his lap. He was so taken aback he could do nothing but wrap an arm around her waist to steady her.

She tugged at the shoulder of her gown, exposing more creamy flesh. But when she met with resistance from the fabric, she glowered at it then sighed.

“Harriet?”

She pressed her lips to his, lifting his hand and placing it on her breast.

He was a bit unsure how to respond, though he knew what he wanted to do. But want and should were two very different things and they were waging war within him. His mind told him it was wrong but his body was more than happy to let this take its course. He had an innocent throwing herself, rather ineptly, at him and he knew he had to tread very carefully.

“Do I need to pull the drapes?” she said, pulling her mouth away from his. “I suppose this should be done in the dark. And you shall have to help with the buttons of my gown.”

“Forget the drapes.” He tugged her against his chest, straightening her gown and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She snuggled against him.

“I did it wrong,” she said, her voice defeated.

“No, not wrong. Just at the wrong moment.”

“You do not want to… tup… me?”

“Is that what you want, Harriet? To be taken on a chair in the library? To be tupped like a kitchen maid? Is that what you think you are worth?”

“I…I…”

He fingered the top button of her gown then tweaked it open, then the next. She was still in his arms and he wondered if she was even breathing. Was she excited or fearful? He could not tell.

“Harriet, is this what you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“For me to marry you.”

“Yes.”

“And all that entails.”

She was silent for a moment and he thought she may be having second thoughts.

“Is it very wanton of me to say that I enjoyed our kisses last night? And the way you touched me? And the hardness of your body against mine?”

Stephen was embarrassed by the noise that came out of his throat as he moved Harriet forward to look into her eyes—to reassure her. It was half chuckle, half needy growl. God, he wanted her—badly.

“Harriet, it is not at all wanton to enjoy kissing or exploring one another’s bodies. Even though we are not married. It is natural, especially for an innocent. Goodness, I am no innocent but I want to explore your body very much.” He pushed her fischu out of the way slightly and pressed his lips to the rise of her breast. “I want to know what shade of pink your nipples are. I want to know if they are big or small. I want to know whether you prefer me to kiss, suck or lick them. And it is in these moments I am tempted to capitulate and agree to marry you, Lady Harriet. I am led by my manhood and my desire to see your breasts. Does that not make me the most fickle creature on God’s green earth?”

“I must admit to being rather curious about what you look like naked. Thus if you are fickle, I must be fickle also.”

“Ah but you have other reasons for marrying me. Loftier reasons.”

“But you would be fulfilling your promise to me if you marry me.”

“Perhaps.”

“Are you going to tup me today?”

She was biting her lower lip, awaiting his reply, a mixture of excitement and fear in her gaze.

He tugged a few more buttons of her gown open and pressed his lips to her shoulder.

“No, my love, but I do want to see and feel a little more of you. Come.” He stood, moving Harriet to her feet and walked to the desk. Stephen urged her to set her bottom to the edge of the mahogany top then he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly, coaxing her to follow his lead.

Soon, her arms were around his neck, her fingers burrowing under the back of his waistcoat. He pushed her gown up her thighs until there was enough width to allow him to move between her legs, place his hands on her pert backside and pull her against his hardening flesh. She felt good. She felt as though she was made to be there. He moved his mouth to kiss his way along her jaw and down the column of her neck. He nipped her shoulder, drawing a moan from her and a little thrust of her hips. Oh, Harriet Weatherby was going to be a wonderful, exciting and cooperative bed-partner. He tweaked her nipple and she sucked in a breath. And it was not a good sound. He lifted his head.

“Your courses are due?”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red.

“I do not think that is a suitable…”

Stephen pressed a finger to her lips to silence her.

“I have been married. My wife, Sarah—she always had tender breasts the day or two before her courses. Unless you are with child of course.” His lips turned up in a teasing smile and she opened her mouth to protest until she noticed his expression.

“You brute,” she grumbled.

“A brute you would have allowed you to undress you and would have made love to you on this desk, no doubt. But I have not agreed to marry you, Harriet. And I do not make a habit of debauching innocents, tempting though you may be.”

“You were never going to…” she moved her hands as if unsure which euphemism to use. “Take my innocence?”

“No. I already said I would not.”

“Then what was this? I thought I had enticed you. I thought you had changed your mind.”

Stephen ran his fingers through his overly-long hair and stared at her. Her hair was beginning to fall out of its pins, her gown was half buttoned, her skin reddened by his rough chin.

“I do not know, Harriet. I…” He started to pace. “Since Sarah died things have been grey. It is the only way to describe it. Please do not misunderstand me. I love Phoebe. She is the one piece of sunshine in my life but we do not fully connect. I do not understand girls. Gowns and bonnets and stuff. What the hell do I know about such things? And so despite loving her with all my heart, nothing really has captured my attention. Then you came along. And you brought William and Mary. And by God, it has only been three days but it has been a jolly jape, has it not? I wish I had come to church with you. Taking William to White’s was fun. The site of all those stuffy old lords when William laughed too loudly and spoke about tupping his lass. It is as if you and your family have brought colour to our lives. Phoebe and I can breathe and see and enjoy life.

And yes, Harriet. I have not touched a woman since Sarah died and I want to touch you. I want to undress you and feel you beneath me and sink into you.

But is that enough to marry you? I am a sullen old bugger. I was until three days ago at least. I do not want to saddle you with that. I worry this is just a short-term thing and I shall go back to being a misery and seeing life in shades of grey and you shall be stuck with me for life. Harriet, you’re too good for that. You are too vibrant and colourful and full of life for that.

So to answer your question. This was about me stealing a little something of you without compromising you too much. As a gentleman, I apologise. As a man, I make no apologies and only wish I could have debauched you on the desk.”