The Wedding Affair (30 page)

He said something under his breath—she thought it might have been “Vixen”—and then she was past thinking or hearing. All she could do was feel as his thrusts, long and deep and hard, took her over the brink. But even as she lost herself in utter fulfillment, she felt a burst of heat and joy as he cried out and spilled his seed deep inside her body.

***

When Kate and Olivia reached the nursery, Charlotte was wearing her nightgown but sitting up in her cot, fighting sleep and arguing madly to be allowed to continue exploring. “There’s a real horse!” she told Kate.

“It’s a hobbyhorse,” Nurse said. “Quite an elaborate one, too, compared to her stick creation. The mane and tail are made of real horsehair.”

“I’ll show you, Miss Kate,” Charlotte offered. She squirmed off the cot before Olivia caught her by the back of her nightgown.

Kate decided to remove one potential distraction. “Tomorrow, my dear, I will come and admire the horse. For now, I must go back downstairs to see the duchess, and it’s time for you to go to sleep so you’re not too tired tomorrow to ride.”

“I would like to see the duchess, too,” Charlotte said hopefully.

“I think I’d better stay here till she’s settled,” Olivia said.

Kate met the duchess on the first landing. She hadn’t realize it was so late, but if the duchess was retiring to her room, the company would soon scatter; once the highest-ranking lady had excused herself, the rest of the ladies were free to do the same. The gentlemen would likely return to their own pursuits for an hour or two before retiring, but Kate’s duties would be finished for the day. “Is there anything else you would like me to do this evening, ma’am?” she asked.

A couple of minutes later, with the duchess’s instructions still echoing in her ears, Kate paused on the threshold of the drawing room. At a table in the far corner, Andrew Carlisle, the colonel, and a couple of the bridesmaids’ mothers were playing whist. Kate hoped the stakes were low—for the colonel’s sake, of course, she told herself.

Standing by the pianoforte, one of the newly arrived gentlemen turned pages for the lone bridesmaid who displayed actual musical talent. He looked moonstruck; Kate wondered if he was really impressed or was simply an excellent actor.

On the long couch, Lady Stone had taken up Olivia’s seat beside Penny and seemed to be quizzing her. The hairs at the nape of Kate’s neck stood up. If Lady Stone had overheard the conversation about seduction, or if she had gotten a better look than Kate had at the gold trinket Olivia had dropped, or if she was trying to dun Penny to pay the bet Lady Stone had lost…

As she headed in their direction, the vicar intercepted her. “Miss Blakely, if I might have a word.”

Kate managed a smile. “Of course, sir. The duchess requested me to discuss a few last arrangements for Lady Daphne’s wedding with you. If you have no objections to displaying flowers on the altar for the ceremony, the gardeners will send over the best blooms Halstead can produce.”

“Yes, yes. Whatever Her Grace wishes.” He took her arm and drew her off toward a corner. “We’ve had scarcely a moment alone. Even at dinner, that officious Mr. Carlisle was continually making his presence felt, so I could not express my feelings.”

Kate pretended not to hear. “If Her Grace’s notion is satisfactory to you, sir, then I will undertake to arrange the flowers myself on the afternoon before the wedding.”

“I shall look forward to the occasion. Such a feminine pursuit, flower arranging! I will accept no other engagements. What a charming idea you have had, for us to meet in the church to become better acquainted since the church has brought us together. My dear Miss Blakely, I cannot tell you how delighted I am at the prospect.”

He sounded as if he hoped she was plotting to drag him into the vestry and ravish him. “The duchess felt I would be the best person to carry out her wishes, since I know where the vases are kept in the church and how the altar is decorated to best advantage.”

“Of course.” He smiled broadly. “When a lady arranges matters to suit herself, she should never admit it—and a gentleman must never call attention to the fact she has done so. My apologies, I am sure. I am properly set down, but how gently you did it. I am impressed with your tact, surely the best of all traits for the wife of a vicar, my dear.”

Kate bit her tongue until the tip ached. “Sir, I have not given you leave to address me as such.”

“And again you show your sensitivity to what is right and proper, Miss Blakely. I wish I could say the same for some of the company gathered here.” He glared past her in the direction of the card players. “For instance, I must question your acquaintance with Mr. Carlisle. You seem on easy terms with him.”

“He is a friend of the duke’s. I could hardly give him a direct cut.”

“Still, a lady may be cool, distant, and remote to such approaches. He is irreverent, impertinent, and capable of leading a young woman astray.”

“Surely you are not implying I am foolish enough to be led about by such a man?”

The vicar smiled. “Indeed not. You have reassured me. I should have realized your appearance of cordiality toward him rose from your tactfulness and discretion. I shall say good-bye for now, but I look forward to meeting you again in the church when you come to decorate with your presence as well as with flowers.” He gave a creaky little bow and pressed his lips against the back of her hand. “Until then, my… Miss Blakely.”

The ladies soon began to trickle off to their beds and the gentlemen to their various pursuits, leaving Kate thinking longingly of her own room. At least there she could be quiet and alone—unless, of course, one of the bridesmaids or one of their mothers found something new to fuss about and came seeking Kate to complain.

Finally, the only female remaining in the drawing room was Lady Stone, absorbed in a game of piquet with the colonel. Kate couldn’t imagine anyone who needed a chaperone less than the tart-tongued Lady Stone, so she didn’t interrupt their game to say good night.

Two steps outside the drawing room she pulled up short, realizing the vicar was still standing by the front entrance, chatting with the duke. Kate had assumed he would simply walk across to the stables—but how silly of her not to realize Mr. Blakely was the sort to stand on ceremony and insist his horse be brought to him at the front door instead.

Kate ducked sideways into the library. If some of the gentlemen were there, she’d simply say she’d come to get a book for the duchess.

But the room was dim and quiet. The fire had burned low and a couple of lamps, barely glowing, made only a feeble attempt to keep the shadows at bay. Kate picked up a candle from the desk, lighting it from a lamp as she wandered toward a corner where she had seen some novels. She would browse to while away a few minutes, until the vicar was gone. And perhaps taking a book upstairs wasn’t a bad idea after all; though she was tired, she was not in the least sleepy.

Just as she put her hand out to brush the green leather spine of a promisingly thick volume, she heard someone moving behind her. The flame of her candle wavered as she spun around.

Andrew rose from a wing-backed chair, a book in his hand. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Kate.”

“I thought no one was here.” Her hands were trembling. She ran a finger across the books, trying to steady herself, and gave a little laugh. “I must have read too many silly novels. Letting myself be so startled—”

“You should read all the novels you desire now, for I doubt the vicar would allow you to spend your time with such frivolous pursuits after the wedding.”

“Thank you for the warning. I shall certainly keep it in mind.”

“But you believe novels would be a small thing to sacrifice, in return for the secure position he offers, don’t you? What has happened to you, Kate?”

“When one lives in complete security, the idea of taking risks has a seductive appeal. But when the future is doubtful, security looks quite attractive.”

Andrew shook his head. “When the future is doubtful, taking risks makes me feel more fully alive.”

“Clearly we are quite different in our perspective. What are you reading, Mr. Carlisle? And if I may ask,
how
are you reading with so little light?”

“I confess I was doing more daydreaming than studying.” He set his book down on the nearest table. “This is a survey of the new section of America, the Louisiana Territory.”

Kate tugged the fat green volume off the shelf. “It sounds like a wonderful place for an adventurer.”

“Do you really think so?” His voice was soft. “Why don’t you come with me and find out for yourself?”

Her heart gave a strange little flutter.

“Your skills at organizing would come in quite handy in my travels.”

Kate told herself she should have expected something like that. She kept her voice carefully level. “I doubt your patron would appreciate that plan. Good night, Mr. Carlisle.”

“
Are
you going to marry the vicar, Kate? He seems confident you will.”

“I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Now there’s a reply worthy of the most flirtatious of the bridesmaids—keeping all your options open as long as possible. I am disappointed.”

“And what business is it of yours?”

“You really don’t know?”

He moved closer, and Kate, caught in the corner with a heavy book in one hand and a burning candle in the other, felt trapped. Suddenly he seemed larger, though surely that was only because of the weird shadows cast by the low-burning lights.

Why had she not felt danger in the air the moment he had made himself known? She had been startled, yes, but not worried. Why hadn’t she excused herself immediately?

Because the vicar’s just outside and you’re tired of dealing with him.
But she knew better. Part of her had wanted to stay, to talk with Andrew, to banter, even to flirt just a little…

“I’m not preventing you from leaving, you know,” he said softly. “All you have to do is walk past me.”

Her feet seemed to be frozen to the floor.

“That’s what I thought.” He took the book from her hand and set it on the table atop the one he’d been reading. Then he unfolded her fingers from around the candlestick and put it aside.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered.

“Because any man can take a woman unawares when she has her hands full—and she can blast him afterward. But you’re going to kiss me because you want to, Kate, not because I’ve left you no choice in the matter.”

His big, warm palms cupped her jaw and turned her face up to his. She felt the slow surge of his heat warming her blood as his fingertips massaged the delicate skin just in front of her ears, brushed across her lobes, and settled along her neck in the hidden spots under the low swoop of her hair.

For an instant, she considered resisting, and then she tossed the notion aside. Only one thing would burn away the silly, sentimental memory she had carried with her so long. Better to get on with it and let him kiss her again, so she would see there was nothing special about his touch. Then she would understand how foolish it was to still dream of the long-ago summer when she had been just seventeen. The summer when Andrew Carlisle had come to the vicarage each day for tutoring, but also, Kate had sometimes allowed herself to hope, to see her. The summer when, just once, he had kissed her…

His mouth brushed hers as softly as the touch of a butterfly’s wing, his lips firm but gentle. Yes, just the same as all those years ago—and nothing special, really, to have hung her dreams on. A good idea, really, to have come here to revisit the single minute that a foolish girl had believed so important. In just a moment now the kiss would be over, and her foolish fantasy would be gone.

He traced the line of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. “Such a prim little miss you are,” he whispered. “All puckered up and firm… Relax your lips for me this time, Kate. Kiss me back.”

All part of the experiment, she thought. Now that she had gone this far, she might as well finish. Then her illusions would be truly exploded and the vague longing she had always felt for him would be healed…

She let her mouth soften under his. Slowly he nibbled at her lips and then gradually deepened the kiss. What a very interesting sensation, Kate thought. He tasted of something fiery and hot, something that felt intoxicating and robbed her of breath. Something that made her open her mouth wider and seek his tongue with her own.

Andrew’s hands slid to the back of her neck, holding her mouth tightly against his, but the firmness of his touch kindled a sense of urgency within her. She tilted her head to one side. All her senses seemed to be concentrated on his mouth. Why had she never realized before how very sensitive a tongue could be?

He pulled her closer, crushing her breasts against his coat. Kate felt tiny and helpless and weak, able only to melt into him and whimper a little as he stopped kissing her. His lips moved to the point of her chin; she arched her neck and he kissed her throat with tiny nibbling caresses as he worked his way down. His hands slid over her back, sending pinpricks along each muscle, until his palms rested snugly over her derriere and fitted her tightly against him. As his erection snuggled between her legs, Kate gasped, and he kissed her mouth again, this time not gently at all but plundering, demanding, wordlessly showing her what he would like to do…