The Best Man's Bridesmaid (5 page)

Her mood changed. “Oh, sir, I am
so
glad,” she murmured and did her little wriggle in his lap. “For this is so enjoyable, don’t you think?” she said, her tone low and to him, full of promise. “I can feel you growing ever harder beneath me.”

“Look and see,” he invited and began to move her from his lap.

She shook her head. “Oh no, too soon. What if I am disappointed? ‘Tis much better to imagine how you look, how hard but silky soft you are.
That
I have felt and will feel again, perhaps at some point.”

He didn’t understand her. He could almost think she was inexperienced, a novice in the art of coquetry, almost shy. But surely not? Not when she had been so bold earlier.

“Caroline. No more games,” he warned. “Well, verbal games. You can tease and entice all you like. I must know. Are you experienced in any of the art of arousal, of lovemaking? I do not wish to shock you or hurt you, but sooner rather than later, we will sate ourselves in each other. It must be wanted by both of us and be a joyous experience. To reach true ecstasy together is a rare thing. But if we choose to, we will achieve it. So?” He stared at her, his expression serious and intense. She flushed and wriggled. “Caroline. Your experience? Please?”

“All learned from you, Charlie. All from you. Whether you realize it or not. You have been my mentor, my tutor.” She was silent for a moment. “Do you trust me, Charlie? Will you give me a little time before I tell you all? For in all honesty it is not all mine to tell.”

“How much time?” He waited and watched a myriad of emotions expressed on her face. He could but hope he saw truth and longing there. He dare not hope for more.

“I would like to say I don’t know. But judging by the way you feel,” she said and moved against him, “I could not be that cruel.”

He was sure that wriggle was to make him aware of
her
awareness of his penis, hard and tight as it nestled against her bottom. He hoped its strength and heat permeated through her skirt to her skin.

“And in truth, do not want to be,” Caroline continued. “I long for the time when we are as one. But,” she cautioned as he made a move to lift her skirts. “Not yet. Soon. For once I have felt you inside me, there will be no going back. And we both must be sure. Very, very sure. When I explain all I need to you, then, we will see. However, I am sure I can help to relieve your tension.” She slipped off his lap and knelt on the floor in front of him, much as he had done to her earlier.

Charlie looked at her with dawning recognition as her fingers busied with his flap. He was almost sure he recognized the way her hair covered her face as she bent forward, the way her clever hands dealt with his clothes with a swiftness that astounded him, before they lifted his penis from its confines with a sureness that amazed him. But no! He would never have forgotten his affianced doing anything as intimate as this. She had never been alone with him, never spoken more than two words to him. He must be mistaken. And then as her fingers surrounded and stretched him, all coherent thought fled. Instead, he surrendered to sensation. He was aware of the way her hands surrounded his flesh and fondled and stroked him. Her movements were both soft and hard, and up and down. He was lost in an exploration of bliss too deep to return any favors. Mesmerized by the way she moved and caressed him to do anything other than experience those touches.

“Towel,” he croaked. “Now. I’m ahh, oh God, Caroline. Please.”

“Oh, I do please,” she replied, as she glanced around in haste. “No towel, oh hell.” She grabbed his cravat from where he had thrown it earlier, having forgotten he had dismissed his valet. “Here my love, spill here.” One final, all-embracing wrap of her hand and he did as she had bidden him. His ejaculation jerked his whole body. His skin tingled, and his skin heated. The sensation shook him to the core. He cried out, in awe of what he had experienced. Nothing had affected him in so intense a manner, ever before.

“Oh God, Caroline,” he groaned. “You, er, I. Er, no, er, shall I, we?” Charlie lapsed into incoherent mumbles. He licked his lips to try and relieve the dryness of his mouth. His tongue felt too big for the space, and his body still shook with the power of his climax.

She laughed. “I suggest you wait and get your power of speech back before attempting to do anything. I fear your cravat is quite spoiled, my lord. Shall I burn it?”

He nodded, still unsure if he would be able to string two words together. He watched as she rose and walked none too steadily toward the fire and threw the wet and soiled garment on to the flames. “Let’s hope your valet doesn’t count them,” she remarked as she sat at his feet again and watched him try, without much success, to calm himself. “Thank you, Charlie.”

He stared at her as he tried to get coherent thoughts together and understand what she was saying. “Eh? Why are you thanking me, Caro? It should be the other way round. You have received nothing, and I?” He shrugged in a self-conscious way. “I have received everything.”

“Everything?” she asked mischievously. “Never. I cannot believe that.”

“Your trust, your willingness to touch me, make me come, watch me as I came by you, for you. That is everything, my love.”

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

“Am I?” she pondered. “Your love? I wonder.” She stood up with one brisk movement and shook out her crushed skirts. “It is past midnight, I must go. I have a request. Will you come to Chattels tomorrow evening? Well, ‘tis this evening now. I am returning this morning, whatever my parents say. It is less than two hours from town, faster if you ride. Will you come and dine with me? And then—well, then I will tell you all—and we can see if we are in agreement as to our futures.” She waited with baited breath for his answer.

She could almost see the wheels turning as he muttered, “Cancel Hoolihan, put off cards, ignore Bateman,” under his breath. “I will.” It sounded like a vow.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“I will see you at six then?”

***

It was early afternoon before Caroline, weary and dusty, arrived at her home. As she reached the gates of Chattels and saw the house in the distance, her spirits lifted. Home. Her home, where she was in charge, not her parents, her. She sighed in happiness.

Beside her in the coach, Primmy smiled. “That’s more like the lady we all love to hear. You’ve been almighty quiet of late, down in the dumps almost. Can I hazard a guess you are glad to be home, my lady?”

“More than you can guess,” Caroline answered fervently and leaned forward in her seat to see the view better. She ignored the formal “my lady,” even though it irked her. Primmy had been her good friend, at times it seemed her only friend since she was tiny. “It’s been so long since I have been here.”

“A week, no more.”

She giggled. “It seems longer. I will not be leaving again in a hurry, that I promise you. I will not again be put under such pressure as I have been these last few days. My life is mine to decide. My mistakes my own and mine to worry over, no one else’s.”

“Your parents want what they think is best for you,” Primmy replied in an undertone. “Although,” she said so quietly Caroline had to strain to hear, “my heart goes out to you and endorses your sentiments, they do what they think is right.”

“Exactly. What
they
think is right and best,” Caroline retorted. “Not what I think is best or what I want. Well, no more, Primmy, no more. This is my life, and acceptable or not, I will live it as I choose,
not
as others choose for me.” She sat back in her seat, relaxed and happy. It had been a fraught morning.

First she had met with her parents. Her mother had remonstrated with her. It wasn’t suitable for her to live alone, now she had no need to under the terms of the will. She needed to reenter the social whirl of the ton once more. What about making plans for her wedding? Wedding clothes? A wedding dress and veil, a leaving outfit? All, she was told firmly, needed to be decided on without delay. Caroline had chosen not to admit she didn’t know if there was going to be a wedding. No need to upset the apple cart without good reason.

When remonstrance had failed, her father forbade her to leave. Caroline ignored him. The angrier he got, the calmer she became. Whilst her mother retreated into tears, Caroline had faced her father. No one would tell from her calm face just how her stomach churned or her nerves jangled. It was imperative she did not show how nervous she was.

“Papa, I love you, but you are trying to browbeat me. And I am three-and-twenty, have my own money and estate. I will
not
be bullied. I have no need to run to you, except perhaps when I am in need of parental and familial love. That will be the sole time, then, not for guidance. You and Mama either accept me as I am or not at all. The decision is yours. I am returning home this morning, with or without your blessing. It is your choice.” She looked at her father, her eyes wide as she beseeched him to try and understand how much she wanted to be her own woman. Beside him her mother wept softly.

“Oh, Caroline,” she pleaded. “Think, think of what you are doing to yourself, to us all.”

“Mama.” Caroline was now fast losing patience. “All my life I have had to put others first. Well, no more. Now this is my time to indulge in me, and I intend to do so. I would prefer your blessings, but if not?” She shrugged and struggled not to show any emotion.

Her father’s face was red. “I cannot in truth give you my blessing for something I do not agree with,” he said, regret uppermost in his voice. “But I do not wish you ill.”

“So be it.” Had she in all honesty expected any other response? She kissed him and her mother. “You know where I will be.”

“And you us.” Her father’s voice was thick.

As she thought over the events of the morning, Caroline’s heart was heavy. She had left her parents’ house without seeing her brother or sister to bid farewell. Her next stop had been to Grey’s Inn to see her solicitor. Mr. Nellings had requested she call on him before she left the capital. He knew his client too well to suggest he call on her.

Inside her reticule was a fat epistle he had given her. “Your great-aunt requested I give you this once the official period of mourning was over. You must only open it at Chattels.”

So here she was almost there and eager to see what had been written.

But first she had a lot to do and very little time in which to do it. Her delayed start from the capital meant she was several hours later in her arrival than she had hoped. Crisply, she greeted her household staff, requested dinner for two at 8:00 p.m., and spoke with Primmy about certain things she wanted to be arranged. It was only then she talked in private at length to Jenkins.

“It will be as you wish, my lady,” he promised when she finished.

Once her arrangements were as far advanced as they could be, Caroline realized she was hungry. Tonight she was sure would be the most important evening of her life. It was vital she missed nothing.

After she had devoured a bowl of soup and some cold meats, she retired to her bedchamber to read her letter in private. Primmy had unpacked and replaced all her clothing in the cupboards and was drawing a bath as Caroline entered her bedroom.

“Your bath is ready.” Primmy indicated the bathing chamber, where Caroline could see steam rising. “Relax and prepare yourself. I will put out the clothes you’ve requested and be back later to assist. What time is his lordship due to arrive?”

“At six, so I have little time.” Her pulse quickened at the thought.

“Time enough for a soak,” Primmy said, her voice firm. “You can do no more; everything is set, except you. Now sit in the water, let it relax you. You’re tighter than any spring imaginable. Take some deep breaths, and slow down. All this rushing will neither make time go faster or help you achieve all you wish. Hold one moment.” Caroline had begun to move toward her bathing chamber where the sweet smell of roses wafted from her bath. “Wait while I pile your hair up. No use in getting it all wet. There’s not enough time to dry it. I’ll just brush it well for you later. Aye, and read your letter if you wish. Just don’t drop it in the water.”

That made Caroline laugh, the result she knew Primmy had wanted.

“I won’t,” she promised. “And I am so looking forward to the next ten minutes.”

“Twenty,” Primmy replied, implacable and in charge. “I’ll be back to help you out then. Not one minute sooner.”

Twenty minutes was not enough to read and absorb what her great-aunt had written.

She read it through three times. Lay back, laughed until she cried and the water sloshed over the edge of the bath.

“Aunt Maud. I do
so
love you. Thank you,” she said out loud. Aunt Maud had explained all her reasons, including her opinion that Charlie was
very
much a man, and well able to provide everything a woman needed, but that Caroline was more than enough woman to contain him.
In every way,
her great-aunt had underscored. She would enjoy sharing the contents of the letter with Charlie later, if…
Enough.
Later is later, and I’d better prepare.