Regency Society

Chapter Ten

‘Adrian, please. No more. It is almost dawn and I swear I am exhausted.’ Emily laughed, for she had never thought to speak those words, and certainly not to her husband.

‘Are you sure, minx?’ His hand stole between her legs again, cupping her sex under his palm. ‘Although you have left me too weak for another go, I do not think it is possible for a woman to grow too tired for this. Let us see, shall we?’

And it seemed she would know soon enough, for his fingers moved upon her again, as they had so many times since she had led him to her bed.

He had not allowed her to undress him, for he’d claimed that when changing without a valet, he preferred his clothes laid out in a way that ensured he could find them again.

She had watched in eager anticipation as he revealed without shame the body she had only glimpsed before. The years had not changed him, and she was glad of it. He was as muscular as she remembered, large and strong in ways that made her tremble to the core to look on him.

He had come to her side, kneeling on the edge of her bed and peeled her gown away from her as easily as he had the night before, kissing her face and her body, then toppling her back on to the mattress, his nakedness blending with hers in a tangle of arms and legs and fingers and tongues. He had licked and stroked her to ecstasy more times than she could remember, and spent himself in her hands, between her breasts, and between her thighs, touching her sex with his in a way that was very close to heaven. And then they had slept together, through the night, skin to skin, so close and familiar that they might have been sharing one body.

But not close enough. As he touched her now and dipped inside of her with the tip of his finger, she imagined him entering her, taking her as she had always wanted. She pressed herself against his hand, urging him deeper and remembering the size of him resting heavy in her hands the night before. ‘You are bigger than that,’ she whispered. And then she gasped, for he had slipped another finger, spreading them inside of her, stretching and moving faster and faster. And she discovered that she was not too tired after all, losing herself all over again in the miraculous maelstrom that she had come to expect from his lovemaking.

‘There, my darling,’ he said with a smile. ‘Admit I was right. Your body wakes at my touch.’

Emily put her arms around his neck and kissed him for what must have been the hundredth time that night. ‘And now it would like to sleep at your touch as well. The fire is dying and the sun is rising, but it is still several hours until breakfast. And perhaps the servants would welcome the quiet.’ For he had reminded her frequently that he could not see her response, and that it pleased him to hear her cry out.

But now he kissed her gently upon the cheek and disentangled her arms from his neck. ‘I had not realised it was so late. You must have your rest.’

She reached out for him, but he had already turned from her, feeling along the edge of the bed and then taking the three steps from the corner that would lead him to the chair with his clothes. ‘You are leaving me?’ She sat up enough to see the clock upon the mantel. ‘It is just past four,’ she admitted, with a yawn. ‘You can have no other commitments at this hour. Must you go?’

He chuckled. ‘If I am honest with myself, probably not. When you know me, you will see that I am the most idle of creatures. I sleep the days away, and my evenings are spent much as you saw the first one.’ He pulled on his shirt, tied his cravat in a rough knot, and came back to her, reaching to find her, and kissing her outstretched hand. ‘But since I am a wastrel and a rake, it would be better for your reputation if I were not seen leaving this place after breakfast, satisfied by more than a hearty meal.’

She sighed, for perhaps now was the right time to tell him that it did not matter in the slightest. But while they had shared a bed for hours, and done more together than she had ever expected, he had not succumbed enough to do the deed. Nor would he be likely to, if she made him angry.

When she did not answer he said, ‘Have you fallen back to sleep?’

‘I am merely hoping that if I do not agree, you will not leave.’ Because this was how it was supposed to be. How it should have been from the first. The two of them together, sharing the night and greeting the dawn.

‘I must go, so that I might return again. And before then, I must have a change of linen and a shave, if you wish me to be the presentable man you want, and not the base ruffian you found me.’ He released her hand and returned to the business of dressing. Then he said, casually, as though he did not wish to presume the invitation, ‘If you are not busy, of course. And if you desire more of my company. My nights are not empty, but they are not so full that I would not be willing to dedicate them to you.’

He probably meant, if she rejected him, to slip back to the place she had found him, and his inevitable doom. ‘No.’ She climbed out of the bed to come to his side.

‘You refuse me?’

‘I refuse to allow you to fill your evenings with anything but me,’ she said, twining her arms about him and kissing him again. ‘I will meet with you again, as often as you like, night or day, it does not matter to me. I have but one condition.’

He smiled and hugged her. ‘I am yours to command.’

‘For the duration of our acquaintance, you must not frequent gaming hells or taverns or any other low haunts like the one I found you in. While you may not think yourself worthy of better company, I do not find it flattering to be lumped in with such as that.’

Adrian gave a small laugh, and for a moment she was sure that he would tell her in no uncertain terms that their short acquaintance gave her no right to dictate terms to him. And then he said, ‘Well played, madam. In three days, you have succeeded in doing what my friends and family have attempted for years. Of course, they might have had more success in reforming me had they the bait you offer. If you wish me to, I will leave off my vices, for a time, in exchange for the pleasure of your company.’

‘And there must be no more talk of seeking an end to your life or dying young by misadventure. You must assure me that whatever happens between us, you will die in bed, at an advanced age.’

‘I can hardly be expected to guarantee my own longevity.’

‘But you can safeguard what time you have for my sake.’ She ran a finger along his chest before buttoning his vest over it. ‘I will brook no talk of doom, nor do I wish you threatening to step in front of a dray horse, should I do something that displeases you.’ She kissed his chin, nestling her naked body against him and feeling his spirit weaken as his body grew hard.

He groaned and pushed her away, firmly back on her own two feet. ‘None of that, then. If I mean to leave you, I will not be able, should you begin again.’

‘I will not let you go until you promise. I could not bear it, I swear.’

He leaned against a bedpost, grunting as he pulled on his boots. But he was smiling. ‘Very well. To remain secure in your affections, I will do as you ask. Now tell me where to find a bell pull so that I might summon a ride home.’

When she offered to help him, he kissed her firmly on the lips, leading her back to the bed. ‘You need not rise. I will find my own way, with some small amount of help. And I dare say your servants must grow used to it. I expect they will see me often from now on.’

Adrian reached his own doorstep without a stumble, handing his coat and stick to a waiting footman.

This morning, it was almost a relief to be unable to read the expression on the man’s face. If he could see, he was sure that he would find the servant smirking at the master for coming in with the dawn with a smile on his face and smelling of a woman’s cologne.

He inhaled deeply. Lemons, again. His mouth watered at the thought of her. Or perhaps it was because he had barely eaten. He would have a wash, a shave and a hearty breakfast.

Adrian went to his room and pulled back the curtains, seeing the glow of the rising sun, and felt the first warmth hit his face as his valet came to prepare him for the day.

When Hendricks came to him, several hours later, he swore he could hear the man’s shocked intake of breath at finding him upright and taking eggs and kippers at the little table beside the window.

‘Come in, Hendricks.’ He made a welcoming gesture in the general direction of the door and indicated the chair on the other side of the table. ‘Bring the post and The Times and help yourself to a cup of tea. And try to contain your astonishment. I swear, I heard your jaw drop as you crossed the threshold.’

‘You must admit that it is unusual for me to find you awake, my lord.’

‘I am sober as well. And fully dressed. Of course, what I mean to do with all the extra time, I have no idea. I suspect I have put my valet to a great deal of bother, only to spoil my cravat by napping through the afternoon. But what can be done?’

‘You are in a better mood today, I see.’ His secretary was using his typically mild-mannered voice, but there was a hint of something in it that almost seemed like censure.

‘And what if I am?’

‘It is rare enough to be worthy of comment. The last time I greeted you cheerfully before noon, you threw a bookend at me.’

‘I apologise.’ He had been suffering that day from the headache that sometimes accompanied his troubles. Or, if he was more honest with himself, he had been suffering the after-effects of the gin. In either case, it had been no reason to take it out on Hendricks. ‘If you felt then as I do today, then I had no right to spoil the mood.’ He reached for his tea, and felt Hendricks stay his hand.

‘Excuse me, my lord. It has been incorrectly prepared for you. Someone has put lemon in it this morning.’

Adrian grinned. ‘And two sugars. Tart, and yet very sweet. Just as I requested it. Never mind the post. I doubt there is anything in it that I care about. But if you could read me the news of the day, I would be most grateful.’

Chapter Eleven

The vigour with which Adrian had started the day had faded by noon. He might have stood the fatigue if there had been a way to occupy himself. But with no word from Emily or his mysterious new lover, there was nothing in the mail that required his attention. And although the news was interesting, it gave him the familiar feeling of restlessness to hear it. If he refused his chance to be involved with the making of laws, he had no real need to keep abreast of current events. He soon grew frustrated with the paper and waved his secretary away.

When Hendricks was gone, Adrian roamed his small rooms like a lost soul. He requested an early lunch, which he promptly regretted, for the food lay heavy in his stomach. Then he went back to his bedchamber, and lay down upon the bed, closing his eyes and falling into an uneasy doze.

He dreamed of her, of course. And in those dreams, he could see her and call her by name. When they had lain together, near exhausted from love-making, he had asked her what she wished to be called, if she would not give him her name.

She had laughed and said, ‘Anything you like. Or nothing at all. While I appreciate endearments, I have learned to live without them.’

And it had angered him. For while some women could turn petulant if not given jewels, the woman at his side deserved to be showered with words of love, and yet had been forced to manage with none.

But then she had said, ‘But I do seem to enjoy attention that is physical in nature.’

‘Do you, now?’ He laughed again and moved to touch her, eager to give her what she hinted at. And a name for her had popped easily into his mind. He pushed it away, remembering that though he might imagine what he liked as they made love, he must guard his tongue. She knew too much already about his life and marriage to call her by the name that was always close to his thoughts. It would be an insult to what they shared.

But in his sleep he was loving a woman that was a perfect blend of what he had and what he wanted. Though it should have been the happiest of dreams, and one that he wanted never to end, he could not shake the feeling that the happiness would not last.

And then, at the penultimate moment of his fantasy, there was the sound of something heavy moving in the hall. And of men, grunting under the weight of it, and muffled curses as someone banged an arm or pinched a finger.

Adrian rose and stalked across his room, opening the door with such force that it would have slammed against the wall had it not met with an obstruction. ‘What the devil is going on out here? Do you not realise that I am trying to sleep?’

‘My lord, if you will excuse us, there is a delivery.’ They were trying to manoeuvre something past him, towards the sitting room. ‘We were instructed to place it in the corner, by the window.’

‘Not by me you weren’t,’ he said, and heard the footman take an involuntary step back and the burden bumping against the walls in a way that must have scratched the paper from them.

‘It is from … She said you would not mind.’ There was a tiny stammer at the beginning of the sentence, as though they were unsure how to broach the rest of it.

‘She?’ There could be only one she that would be so motivated. Whatever it was was probably offered as a ‘thank you’ for their extremely active night. He should accept it in the spirit it was given, no matter what it might be. ‘Well, if she insists that it must go in my sitting room, who am I to argue?’ Other than the owner of the room, of course.

‘Very good, my lord. If you would stand back, just for a moment?’ From the sound of his voice, Parker, the footman, was fading under the weight of the thing he carried, but made no move to proceed without his master’s permission. The man had made the mistake, when first he’d arrived, of trying to touch Adrian and move him manually out of the way of a delivery. But he had learned with the sharp rap of a cane on his knuckles to keep his distance and allow my lord his space.

Adrian raised his hands and stepped back to give them room to pass.

There was more grunting, and the sound of the two footmen manoeuvring a piece of furniture, followed by the instructions to a third man to ‘Get the stool as well’.

When things settled down, Adrian folded his arms and demanded, ‘What is it?’

‘A pianoforte, my lord.’

‘A what?’

‘A pianoforte. She said that we might have some difficulty with it, but that it was the smallest one she could find.’

Adrian waved his hands as they began to repeat. ‘Never mind. I heard you the first time. But what the hell am I supposed to do with the thing? The woman must be mad—take it away, immediately.’