Never Miss a Chance (15 page)

“Very well.” 

Riverton started for the door again.  This time Lizzie
closed the gap between them and stopped him with a hand on his arm.  It was,
she noticed, quite a muscular arm.  She could feel his heat through the fine
fabric of his coat.  She was reminded of how warm the day had been and wondered
if he wouldn’t be more comfortable in shirtsleeves.  She was growing warmer
just standing by him, and was wearing the lightest cotton.

“I would think you’d wish for your future wife to behave
with more decorum,” said Lizzie.  When he refrained from speaking, she
continued.  “You do wish to have me for a wife, don’t you?  Or have you changed
your mind?”    

The lightest flicker of something flashed through his eyes,
which Lizzie found a bit worrisome.  If he wasn’t going to exhibit the usual
behavior of males in her family, she’d just have to shock a reaction out of
him.  And there was only one way to do that.  She threw her arms around his
neck, pressed her body down the length of his and kissed him for all she was
worth.

Lessons learned at the chess board certainly came in handy,
thought Riverton as Lizzie’s lips rose to his.  His initial thought had been to
directly engage her, to try to dissuade her from this disastrous political
course.  But once it was clear she was spoiling for a fight, he decided to walk
away, hoping she’d come after him.  And it had worked. 

Now, all he needed to do was end this kiss.  In a moment or
two.  Possibly three.  Then, having reeled her in through a forward-thinking
strategy, he would calmly explain the error of her ways.  After another kiss or
two, all would be settled.  Her brothers would be in awe of how well he’d
handled her.  It was really a shame Lynwood couldn’t have employed logic with
her years earlier.  Perhaps all of this bother with the political treatise
might’ve been avoided.   He would allow the kiss to continue for another four
minutes – six at the most – then put his plan into action.

Then Lizzie put her hand on the very hard ridge of his cock.

All thoughts of political discourse flew out of Riverton’s
head.  Certainly any thoughts of her brothers were far from his mind.  All he
could concentrate on was the soft woman in his arms and the shy strokes she was
giving his cock.

He deepened the kiss, then pressed her hand harder against
him.  With a soft sigh that reverberated throughout his body, she continued to
stroke, while pressing herself closer to him.  He placed his hand on her breast
and gently rolled her pebbled nipple.   Her muted cry drove him wild.

He’d never reacted this intensely to a woman before, except
that night in his room with Lizzie.  She was untutored.  A virgin.  But she
could heat his blood like no other.  He was so out of his element that when she
swayed into him, he almost toppled.

Looking around, he spied the broad surface of Lynwood’s
desk.  It was madness to take this any further with her brothers right outside
the door, but with her insistent strokes, he didn’t think he could leave the
room if the house were on fire.

He backed Lizzie up to the desk, then cleared a spot for her
to sit.  One of Lynwood’s ledgers fell on the floor with a resounding thud. 
Lizzie and Riverton looked at each other.

From outside in the hall, they heard Lynwood’s voice.  “Is everything
all right in there?”

As his hands pressed inside Lizzie’s bodice so skin met
skin, he yelled out to Lynwood.  “I would never harm your sister.  You know
that!”  He kissed her ear and nibbled at the lobe.

“I know that!” yelled Lynwood from the hall.  “I thought she
might’ve thrown something at you.”

“Go away, Liam!” yelled Lizzie as she leaned back on the
desk, gripping Riverton’s cock, squeezing until he moaned.

“You’re driving me wild,” he whispered in her ear.  “But we
have to be quick.”

“Quick?”   She clearly didn’t know what he was alluding to.

But she’d soon find out.

Keeping one hand on her breast, kneading relentlessly, he
drew up her skirts with the other.  As he slipped his hand into her drawers,
her eyes flew wide open.

“Shhh,” he gentled her.  “Don’t be scared.”

His hand was nestled in warm, wet curls.  As he slid one
finger into her heat, he began a  pulsating rhythm  with his palm against the
heart of her.  She may have been shocked at first, but she quickly melted into the
rhythm, moving with him.  Her eyes closed and her head rolled from side to
side.  He was shocked and aroused even more when he realized how quickly she
was approaching her climax.

He removed his hand from her breast and put it on her
cheek. 

“Look at me,” he whispered to her, his voice nothing but a
rasp.

Then she opened her beautiful eyes that were now the deepest
green.  She whispered “Marcus,” then he pressed just a bit harder as he thrust
another finger into her, making her shatter.

He caught her scream in his mouth.  Then pulled back to see
her sated beauty.  She put her hand upon his cheek.

“Marcus, I…”

There was pounding on the door once again.

“Marcus, we’re coming in,” said Lynwood.  “I’m too concerned
for your safety.”

Somehow, Lizzie and Riverton were able to jump away from the
desk.  Lizzie straightened her skirts.  Marcus turned his back to the door and
searched for the decanter, while surreptitiously wiping his hand on his
handkerchief.  As her scent rose from the cloth, he was hit with another wave
of lust.  What they’d just done had been madness, with her family just outside
the door.  But he’d do it all again, if given the opportunity.

The door opened and her family entered.  There was a moment
of silence, then Lynwood said “What the devil happened to my desk?”

Still unable to turn and face the duke, Riverton heard
Lizzie apologize to her brother.  Apparently, her temper had got away from her
and she’d thrown Lynwood’s beloved ledger to the floor.  And strewn the papers
across the desk.  And knocked over the sand.  And somehow broken a pencil.  But
she was feeling much better now, thank you, and would certainly clean up the
mess if Lynwood wanted her to.  Although, she mused, didn’t they have a full
complement of servants for just that purpose?

Prue cleared her throat.  “It seems, Lizzie, that you stated
your case quite ardently.  What was Riverton’s reaction?”

Marcus stood behind a chair.  “I was pleased to learn that my
fiancé has come to see the error of her ways.”

“I beg your pardon,” said an incredulous Lizzie.

“I believe we’ve seen the last of the treatises,” continued
Riverton.  “We had a private discussion in which she ceded authority to me.” 
He smiled at Lizzie.  Her color rose, no doubt in remembrance of their rather
wild interlude on the desk.  An interlude that would have to be repeated in his
study, but behind locked doors and without her brothers standing in the hall.                Lizzie
bent to pick up the ledger from the floor.  Then she turned and threw it
against the bookcase.

“Elizabeth,” said Lynwood, “I must ask you to stop abusing
my ledger.  Keeping proper accounts is important and I don’t know how I shall
be able to do so if you throw it every time you and Riverton disagree.”

But Lizzie was in no mood to listen to Liam’s lecture.  She
strode over to Riverton, her green eyes blazing.

“My lord, I shall never – and I mean never – give up the
values I hold dear.  No matter what means of persuasion you employ.”  With
that, she upended Lynwood’s chess board then stormed out of the room, leaving a
dumbfounded Riverton to face her brothers.

“Riverton,” drawled Lynwood, as he took in the devastation
left in his sister’s wake, “next time you try to get Lizzie to see your point
of view, can you please do it in your study and not mine?”

Hal crossed to Riverton and held out his hand.  “Welcome to
the family, old boy.  Glad to have you as one of us.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Arthur awoke slowly, as if surfacing from a swim underwater. 
It was still dark out, but there was a light in an adjoining room.  He was lying
on an unfamiliar bed – not exactly the first time he’d awakened thusly – but
there was no pliant female lying next to him.  It didn’t even appear to be a
woman’s bedroom.  There was a decided lack of pink, almost no pillows and
little evidence of female accoutrement like perfume and brushes and such.  So,
as disconcerting as it would’ve been to awaken in an unknown female’s room, it
was even more so to wake up in what was most likely a man’s bed.

Other than his jacket, he was still fully clothed, which was
somewhat comforting.  He even had his boots on.  So whoever had put him to bed
had pretty much let him fall onto it.  At least it was better than letting him
pass out in an alley, but it was still damned odd to have no recollection of
where he was or how he’d got there.

He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, then immediately
regretted his actions.  His head was spinning and had there been anything in
his stomach, he was sure the contents would now be on the floor.  It made no
sense that he would’ve drunk so much the night before.  A patch of particularly
bad luck at the tables had him down for the month.  Significantly down.  His
losses had been steadily accruing and he would never get foxed when he needed
his wits to be sharp.  But, given the pain in his head and stomach upset, he’d
definitely had too much of something the night before.  If only he could
remember. 

He rose to his feet, swayed so much he almost fell back on
the bed, then reached for his jacket.  It was a Weston and there was no way he’d
submit his body to the torture of getting into the fitted garment, so he simply
reached into the pocket in search of his purse then flung the jacket over his
shoulder.

His purse was, not surprisingly, empty.  His sapphire cravat
pin was also gone.  But it was the presence of his gold signet ring with the
Kellington family crest that told him the loss of his blunt and pin had been at
the gaming tables and not at the hands of a thief.  If only it could tell him where
he was and how he’d come to be there.

It looked to be some sort of bachelor quarters.  The
furniture was nice enough, even if the room was rather bare.  There was really
only one way to learn who had brought him there.  He checked to make sure he
still had his knife in his boot, then walked toward the light in the next room.

“How do you feel, Kellington?” asked the Earl of Stalford as
he looked up from his book.  “If it’s as bad as you look, it’s a wonder you’re
out of bed.”

“I’ve been better,” said Arthur, looking around the room. 
“Are these your lodgings?”

“Yes.  I rented my house out to some sheep farmer from the
north who seems to think a Mayfair residence will render his daughter
marriageable.  He’d have a better chance marrying off the sheep.”

“Could very well work.  There are more than enough
impoverished peers to go around.”

“Too true,” said Stalford as he poured two fingers of
brandy, then offered it to Arthur.  At his grimace, Stalford raised the glass
in salute then downed half of it.  “Have you ever considered doing it? 
Marrying for money?”

“Don’t know if I’ll ever marry,” said Arthur distractedly,
as he looked for the exit.  “Certainly wouldn’t do it for the blunt.”

“Not even to settle your debts?  They are considerable, you
know.”

That got Arthur’s attention.  “What are you talking about? 
I’m on a losing streak, but nothing I can’t cover.  I’ll just have to dip into
next quarter’s allowance.”

“I must say I’m surprised by Lynwood’s largesse.”  At
Arthur’s raised brow, he continued.  “I don’t know how much you’ve lost in the
past few weeks, but tonight you dropped close to £20,000.  If that can be
covered by dipping into your quarterly allowance, I think I should like to be
adopted.”

Arthur dropped into the nearest chair, his knees suddenly
weak.  “You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am.  I was there.  I even tried to talk
you out of it, but you couldn’t be reasoned with.”

“I don’t remember a thing.”

“Little wonder, between the drinks and the opium…”

“I would never smoke opium!”  But even as he said the words,
Arthur realized his dry mouth and queasy stomach were telltale signs of opium
use.  He would never smoke it, but if it had been slipped into his drink it
would explain a lot about the evening.

“I was also surprised.  Shocked, really.  You, who are known
for being so cool and deliberative, throwing caution to the wind like that. 
You were so out of your senses by the end of the night, I brought you here,
only because I didn’t want to risk scaring your sister or experiencing
Lynwood’s wrath if I’d taken you home.  I imagine he’ll have enough to say when
he hears about your gaming losses.”

He would at that, thought Arthur.  It was a conversation he
wasn’t looking forward to.  Lynwood lectured.  He dictated edicts.  He had
grand expectations.  And from time to time he bellowed.  None of it was
pleasant behavior, but Arthur had withstood it all before and no doubt would
again.  But in this case, Lynwood wouldn’t just be angry.  He’d be gravely
disappointed.  And for some reason, Arthur wanted to avoid that more than
anything.  But he wasn’t sure how he’d manage, since he had nowhere near that
much blunt to pay his debt.  And Arthur always paid his debts.

As if reading his mind, Stalford continued. 

“I think I may know a way out of your predicament.”

Instantly suspicious, since Stalford rarely if ever
volunteered to help anyone if there wasn’t something in it for him, Arthur
nodded for him to go on.

“I believe a large portion of the debt might be forgiven,
perhaps even half of it.”

If that were true, Arthur might not have to go to Lynwood. 
He had some investments that could be liquidated.  Hal owed him money.  He’d
even lent some to Ned to fix up the Marston Vale estate.  He wouldn’t want to
ask for it back so quickly, but he’d rather do that than go to Lynwood. 

“What would I have to do to make that happen?”

“Nothing so very much.  Someone has an interest in your
sister.  He’d like the chance to get to know her better.”

Despite his throbbing head, despite the sour stomach, even
despite his lamentable lack of balance, Arthur was across the room with his
hands on Stalford’s throat in an instant.

“I would never bargain with my sister.  I’ll go to debtors’
prison first.”

Normally not a match physically for Arthur, Stalford was
able to push the man off him because of his weakened state.  But not taking any
chances, he retreated behind his chair.

“Stop behaving like a lunatic, Kellington.  I’m the only
friend you’ve got right now.  You’d be wise to remember it.”

“And you’d be wise to remember that any insult toward my
sister will be met by an invitation to the dueling field.”

“Noted,” said Stalford curtly.  “I mean no insult or harm. 
I just want the chance to pursue my suit.”

“You’re the person who’s interested in Lady Elizabeth?”

“I’ve always admired her and was making significant progress
in getting to know her.”

“You’re too late.  She’s engaged to Riverton.”

“She was forced into an engagement because of that unpleasant
situation at the Tarleton ball.  But you don’t truly imagine she favors the
suit, do you?”

While Arthur would never breathe a word of it to anyone
other than his brothers, he did have his doubts about the likely success of a
marriage between Lizzie and Riverton.  He had nothing against the man.  He just
wasn’t sure Riverton had enough life in him to keep up with Lizzie, who could
be a handful.  And he hated the thought of Lizzie forced into a match with
anyone.

“All I’m asking,” continued Stalford, “is the chance to talk
to her in a quieter, more relaxed setting than London.”

“You can’t possibly be suggesting a trip with her.  I was
quiet serious about improper advances being settled on a field of honor.”

“There would be nothing improper about this, I promise you. 
I was invited to the house party the Marchioness of Riverton is giving.  I’m
only hoping you can persuade Lady Elizabeth to attend.  That way I’ll have a
week in which to show her there’s an alternative to Riverton.”

“You wish to supplant Riverton at a party given by his
mother?”

“Supplant is such a dramatic word.  I merely wish to give
your sister another option.”

Arthur considered the proposal.  Involving Lizzie in this
scheme was distasteful in the extreme.  But if it were to give her a chance to
meet other suitors in a relaxed setting, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. 
However, there was one thing he didn’t understand.

“How will this get half of my debt erased?”

“Because, old boy, you owe the money to me.”

*                    *                    *

Lizzie was livid.  Livid!  How dare Marcus kiss her and give
her those completely scandalous caresses only because he was trying to change
her mind about the political treatise?  She had no idea the very upright and
proper marquess could be so underhanded and sneaky.  And she was alarmingly
more attracted to him because of it.   Her brothers had often teased her that
she was too used to getting her own way so any husband of hers would have to know
how to hold his own.  Obviously, Marcus was quite capable of it. 

Lizzie was amazed by what the man could do with a limited
amount of time and the risk of her brothers bursting into the room.  It made
one wonder what he would’ve done with time and privacy at his disposal.

It made one wonder and feel extremely heated and restless.

There was no doubt the physical sensations were the most
intense and pleasurable that Lizzie had ever experienced.  Nothing could even
compare.  But the fact that he’d been completely unaffected was most
troubling.  And given his expertise, she stood in distinct danger of losing
every future argument with him, because all he’d have to do would be to repeat
those indescribable caresses and she’d morph into a milksop miss.  Although she
suspected she’d be one physically satisfied milksop miss.

But even more troubling than his means of persuasion was the
fact he hadn’t called in the two days since that interlude on Lynwood’s desk.  He’d
sent a message, some excuse about a crisis on one of his estates requiring his
immediate attention.  But there had been no warmth, no sign of his regard.

But, Lizzie remembered, this was a man who looked upon
marriage as a necessary part of life.  He didn’t believe in love matches.  Not
that she thought she was in love.  But it would be nice to know he had at least
a little regard for her, other than simply physical attraction.

She’d kept to her rooms since the publication of the second
treatise – and the caricature on this one did look nicer than the last.  She’d
even sent that nice Mr. Carter a letter of thanks, along with a letter to his
publisher saying the good man deserved a raise.  She avoided the rest of the
house because Lynwood was still in high dudgeon.  Hal kept exclaiming about the
overheated female brain.   Ned had lectured her, although Jane had been a
steadfast supporter.  Only Arthur had been silent on the matter and Lizzie
thought it must be a sign that he had matters of his own to concern himself
with. 

So she’d taken to her rooms and was currently at work on a
hideous sampler she planned to give to Aunt Agatha, the Countess of Crenshaw at
Christmas.    It was a most welcome diversion when Arthur came to take tea with
her.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, with dark circles
under his eyes and a sickly pallor to his skin.  Most distressingly, he was
dejected in spirit, which was decidedly odd.  While he’d never been as carefree
as Hal, Arthur didn’t take life all that seriously, and himself not at all.  It
was troubling to see him this way.

“That is a singularly hideous piece of needlework,” he said
to his sister.

“It is, isn’t it?  How are you Arthur?  I must say you’ve
looked better.”

“You’re not the first to inform me.”  He took a sip of tea,
then grimaced.  “Have you any of the brandy you stole from Lynwood?”

“I take exception to that implication, and it’s too early to
drink.   Why are you here, Arthur?  It cannot be merely to criticize my
needlework and complain about the tea.”

He nodded, then was still once more.  “I understand you’ve
been invited to the Riverton house party.”

“Yes, but I won’t be attending.”

“Why not?”

“I would rather be covered in marmalade and fed to woman-eating
insects in the Amazon, although when I write to decline I shall be at least
somewhat more tactful.  Though likely not by much.”

“So you haven’t turned it down?” 

“Not yet, but you cannot think I’d accept.  You have spent
time with them, haven’t you?”

 “If you marry Riverton,” said Arthur casually, as he wiped
away imaginary dust from the arm of his chair, “you also marry his family.  You
won’t be able to avoid them.”

“That sounds like a challenge I’d like to take on.  Besides,
Riverton has several properties.  I’m sure he can find them one that’s far
enough away from us to be suitable.  Perhaps the area of the Amazon I mentioned.”

“They are his dependents.  Even if you do not live with
them, you’ll be thrown together on occasion.  And his obligation toward them
will be lifelong.  It is to everyone’s advantage to see if you can tolerate
them.  The house party seems like a good way to test the waters.”

“I would rather have the toothache.”

“Lizzie, it’s for the best.”

Lizzie considered the suggestion.  She’d given little
thought to what married life would be like with Riverton, beyond the no doubt
glorious physical aspect of it, and their general compatibility.  But the sisters
and his mother truly would drive a vicar to murder.  Could she tolerate them on
those occasions when they were together?  Could Marcus’s family tolerate her? 
Perhaps there was merit in spending some time together.