Regency Romance: A Duchess in Disguise (Historical 19th Century Victorian Romance) (Duke Fantasy Billionaire Romance) (112 page)

''Ah, you like love. The foundation of life.'' He threw his hands in the air again. It was a mannerism that Jemima liked. She liked all his mannerisms.

''Have you ever been in love, Lucien?'' she asked. If he wanted to
talk
at
least,
she wanted to know some meaningful things about him.

''Yes, I have been in love.''

''What was it like?''

''It hurt.''

It wasn't the reply she'd expected. A modern man would never have given her an answer like
that;
neither would any of the men she'd met while she'd been in the Regency Period. Perhaps that's what made him unique. Perhaps that's why she liked him so much. ''Why did it hurt?'

''Because I felt rejected. It made me feel inadequate.''

''Did the lady dump you?''

''What is dump?''

Jemima laughed at herself. Still stuck in two thousand sixteen she thought. ''Did she reject you?''

''Yes. She rejected my advances in the cruelest manner.''

''I don't believe you. Who
could possibly
want to
reject
you?''

''Thank you. Your words are very kind.''

''Because I can't believe it.''

''Do you like me, Miss Lucy?'' he asked.

She didn't want to tell the truth, she was leaving and didn't
want
to get involved. ''Yes, I do. In the kind of way a sister likes a brother.'' She cringed at her dishonesty, putting it down to self-preservation.

He didn't say
any more
. Two hours
went by
. She
sat,
and he painted. When the light began to fade, he put down his brushes and looked at Jemima. ''That's all for today.''

''May I take a look?''

''No it's bad luck. You can see it when it's finished.''

''When will that be?''

''You asked me that before. Why are you in a hurry?''

''I'm not. Please forgive me for pushing you.''

He nodded and began to
clear
his things from the table. He pulled a cover over the easel and slung his bag over his shoulder. ''Until tomorrow,'' he said.

''Yes.'' As he walked toward the door, Jemima felt herself looking at his tight ass and his
long,
lean legs. She wondered whether she would have another sleepless night.

That night
she
didn't sleep at all. She tossed and turned, closed her eyes and opened them again when the images became too sensual to bear. When it began to get
light,
she got up and walked
in
the grounds. The castle looked beautiful in the morning sunlight as she stood and leaned against the iron fence at the end of the garden. What was she going to do? She was obviously in love with Lucien. She'd thought of nothing else for two days. They weren't thoughts,  they were desires, she concluded. Intense desires. She hadn't even had such strong desires for
Rupert,
and she'd
been engaged
to him. So heaven
help
her now, she thought. Would she stay with him if he wanted her? The answer still had to be no, but a tiny part of her wondered.

''Good morning,'' he said enthusiastically. He noticed she looked tired. ''Didn't you sleep?

''No. Not at all.''

He hadn't slept either, but didn't want to admit it.'' Why didn't you sleep?''

Because I want you to shag me, make me pregnant and marry me, she thought. ''I don't know. Just one of those things I suppose.''

He didn't say
any more
. He took the cover off the canvass and took the things that he needed out of his bag. Jemima sat there for two hours and watched him watching her.

''Do you remember yesterday when I asked you if you liked me?'' he asked.

''Yes, I remember,'' she replied.

''I asked you for a reason.''

''Do you want to tell me the reason?''

''I don't know. Perhaps it will make you angry.''

What could you say or do that would
make
me angry, she thought. ''I won't be
angry
.''

''I asked you because I wanted to know if you felt the same as me.''

''So you like me too?''

''Yes. But not like a brother likes a sister. I like you like a man desires a woman.''

He'd broken cover. What was she going to do? She ached to tell him how she felt, but if
she
did, she'd never be able to leave. Could she bear to sleep with him and leave
anyway
? ''I'm sorry Lucien. I lied to you yesterday when I told you I liked you as a sister. I
don't.''

''Do you mean you don't like me at all?'' he asked flicking paint onto the floor as his hand waved a brush around.

''No, I
mean I like
you like a woman wants a man.''

He walked
around
the easel. He took her chin in his hand, bent down, and kissed her. It was a light kiss, hardly
noticeable, like
one of his brushes flicking the canvass. When he pulled away, she stood up and kissed him back. It was the move of a modern
woman,
but it didn't seem to surprise him. He put his arms around her and thrust his tongue into her mouth. They kissed for several minutes, oblivious that someone may come into the room.

''I don't feel like painting anymore. Not after that. I'm too....''

''Excited,'' she said noticing the considerable bulge in his pants. He nodded slightly embarrassed.

''Come to my room,'' she said.

''It's too risky, what if someone sees us?''

''Then come this evening when it's dark. I'll come down and get you.''

*****

Jemima crept down the stairs in the dead of night to let
Lucien in
. When she went
outside,
he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he'd changed his mind
she
thought. She walked across the path onto the lawn and looked from a wider angle at the house. No, he wasn't there.

She didn't hear
him,
but somehow he'd managed to get close to her without her noticing. He grabbed her from behind, lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck.

''Lucien, we're in the middle of the lawn,'' she said feeling very exposed.

He took her hand and walked her to the coach house. As the name
suggests,
it housed the
family's
carriages. Lucien made for one, in particular, the largest six
seater
. When she looked inside, Jemima noticed he'd decked it out with blankets and pillows.

''Here,'' he said. ''I want you here. Not in your room where we'll wake people. They got into the carriage and lay down next to each other. When they
kissed,
they pulled their bodies tight against one another. She felt his erection pushing against her, making her wetter. They were both eager, each taking off their
own
clothes as fast as possible. Jemima was only wearing a
nightgown,
and she soon discarded it. When her breasts sprung free Lucien sucked her nipples greedily, flicking his tongue over them, making them hard.

Jemima had never experienced strong desire like this before. Just his tongue on her nipples was driving her toward orgasm. She began to pant and paw at his crotch, seeking his hard member. When she found it, he groaned and sucked harder. Still sucking her breasts he dropped a hand between her legs, discovering how much she desired him. The feel of her wetness drove him wild. He stopped what he was doing, pushed her onto her back and began to lick over her vulva. She came in an instant, pulling his hair, wrapping her legs around his head. He hurriedly took off the rest of his clothes and placed his penis at her entrance. She was still shaking
wildly
when he pushed into her. The feeling of him
parting
the nerves endings at her opening made her gasp. When he was fully inside her, he stopped and kissed her. She threw her pelvis upward urging him to start thrusting, but he remained still. He wanted to savor the first moments of their lovemaking.

''I want it to last,” he said. ''I want to feel you on me.''

She smiled up at him and ran her hand over his face. When he finally began to
thrust,
she came instantly. It wasn't that he'd stimulated her to any great extent, it was a mind orgasm. Just the thought that he was making love to her was enough to make her body respond. She took hold of his hair as he pushed into her harder and harder, pushing her against the back wall of the carriage. She wanted to shout all sorts of modern day expletives when she felt another orgasm approaching, but she refrained and called out his name instead. At the sound of his name, she felt his shaft twitch, releasing it's load deep into her.

*****

The next afternoon, he finished the portrait.

''I want to see it,'' she said when he announced it
was done
. He was too shy to show her for fear of disappointing her. He didn't know that she already knew what it
looked like
. When she did eventually get to see it, she stood in amazement, hardly able to utter a word. 

''Oh Lucien, you're an absolute master,'' she finally said. ''Let's go and hang it up.'' She knew where. The whole family came out and admired it. Even John told her that she looked beautiful.

It was the end of three lovely days. Three days in which Jemima had fallen head over heels in love with the man who painted her. Her pain in leaving him was going to be great, but not as great as the pain she would feel if her father denied her and she had to stay single all her life.

She went to bed
in
the knowledge it would be her last evening as a Regency lady.

*****

She intended to do it before everyone got up, but she'd slept heavily until mid morning and now had to wait until everyone was out of the way. She put on the dress she'd arrived in, and took the mirror. As she walked
down the stairs,
she wondered how Lucien would react to her absence or wouldn't he notice as the real Lucy took over again. Either way, he was to be disappointed.

She arrived at the portrait and took a deep breath. Was she sure she wanted to go back and leave him? No, she wasn't. She wanted to
stay,
but it would only lead to heartache. She started to turn the mirror toward her face and the portrait.

''Lucy,'' someone shouted. ''Lucy, I need to speak to you.'' To her astonishment it was Lucien.

''What are you doing here?'' she asked.

''I've been to see your father.''

''Why? What are you doing?'' she asked.

He got
onto
one knee and looked up at her. ''Lucy, I love you. I love you more than I thought it possible to love anybody. Will you marry me?''

She couldn't breathe. If she turned the mirror
now,
she would
disappear,
but
she
wanted what he'd asked, she wanted it very much.

''You say you have spoken to my father?''

''Yes, I asked his permission for your hand in marriage. He said yes.''

''What?'' That wasn't the way the story finished. In the story she'd heard, she wasn't allowed to marry Lucien. She lost him and lived unmarried. ''Are you sure?''

Lucien was getting impatient. ''Yes I'm sure.
Lucy,
please, say something.''

If her father had said yes, then surely the story Professor Jackson had told her was wrong. He was misinformed.

''Lucy, please,'' Lucien said once more.

''Yes. Yes, I want to marry you.'' Jemima was surprised by her answer. She hardly knew the man, perhaps enough to marry in Regency times.

He stood up and hugged her. Now, Jemima was Lucy and Lucy got to live a happy life with the man she loved.

''I didn't think my father would agree with me marrying an artist,'' she said an hour later when they were walking in the garden.

''I don't suppose he would have done,'' he replied. ''But I'm not just a painter.''

''What?''

''I'm also an Earl. I live very
close
. Your father knows my family very well.''

''So you're an Earl and a painter?''

''Painting is my life. I love
it,
and
fortunately,
I have enough wealth to be able to do it without worrying about money all the time. Unlike the poor portrait painter who preceded me. He was killed by a carriage in the town a few weeks ago. Your father would certainly not have let you marry
him;
that's for sure.''