Page 5 of 21 Days with the Lyon

B ianca turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, her smile faltering when she didn’t immediately recognize the man. He was tall and dressed like a country gentleman in boots, trousers, and a coat. He had a straw top hat low on his brow, but he swept it off when he spotted her.

Bianca smiled. “Mr. Peters! I did not know you were home.”

“Miss Featherswallow.” He bowed. “I might say the same about you. When did you arrive?”

“A few days ago. And you?” She could not stop smiling. She was so happy to see a friend.

“About a fortnight now. You will have to forgive me for trespassing onto your land, but I couldn’t resist the views from the Mound on such a glorious day.”

“I would not dream of depriving you.”

Seemingly of one mind, they both turned to study the rolling countryside. Edmund Peters was the eldest son of a gentleman who owned the land adjacent to Godwin Priory. The Peters family hadn’t owned their land quite as long as the Featherswallows, but the two families had been neighbors for at least two centuries. Bianca and Kitty had played with Mr. Peters’s sisters when the girls were children. They’d often played with his younger brother as well. But Edmund had always been far too busy for games with the other children, though he was only a couple years older than Kitty. As the eldest son, he seemed to bear the weight of the responsibility for the Peters’s lands and holdings.

“How are Mary and Rose?” Bianca asked, referring to Edmund’s sisters.

“Quite well. Rose had her first child recently. I now have a strapping nephew.”

Bianca gasped. “How wonderful! I shall write her and congratulate her myself.”

And Bianca would mean the congratulations with every fiber of her being, even though she couldn’t help but remember Rose was the same age as she. How was she not to dwell on the fact that Rose already had a husband and a child, and Bianca had only just had her first kiss—and that with a man who immediately apologized for it?

“And Mary?”

“She went to stay with Rose and help with the baby. She says Devonshire is beautiful.”

“I’m sure it is.” Bianca looked out at the landscape before her. “But not as beautiful as this.”

“I agree.” They shared a smile. “How is Kitty?” he asked, looking away from her. “Is she at the priory with you?”

Edmund’s question was quite natural. She had asked about his sisters, and now it was normal and indeed customary for him to ask after her family. But something in the tone of his voice made her wonder if there wasn’t more behind it. Though Edmund was always polite, Kitty had never been particularly cordial to him. If anything, she’d gone out of her way to be contrary to him whenever their families were together. This was nothing unusual—Kitty loved to be contrary, though she seemed to take special pride in behaving so with Edmund.

“She is in London for the Season,” Bianca said.

She watched his face as she delivered this news and was intrigued when he visibly blanched. What was this, then? Did Edmund have feelings stronger than friendship for Kitty?

“I suppose she must be overdue for a Season,” he said. “No doubt she has scores of suitors. She will be married by the fall, I’m certain.”

Bianca thought it might be disloyal to her sister to mention that scores of suitors was a bit of an exaggeration. On the other hand, Edmund looked so dejected. She stepped closer to him. “Actually,” she said, “she doesn’t have any suitors I’m aware of.”

Edmund stared at Bianca as though she’d gone mad. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. Most of the men in London are quite afraid of her.”

Edmund all but bent over with laughter, grasping Bianca by the arms for support. She laughed too. For the first time since she’d arrived home—the house seeming very empty without her father or Kitty—Bianca felt at home. How she had missed the Peters family. They were always so eager to laugh and tease. She wondered if her other neighbors were at home. She should visit them and catch up. There was no need to wait for Kitty to return.

“She can be quite fearsome,” Edmund said, still chuckling.

“Her bark is worse than her bite.”

“If she hears you say that, she will bite.”

They dissolved into laughter again, both of them clutching each other for support.

“Step away from her right now.”

Bianca turned at the voice. “Oh, no.”

Theo had obviously come in search of her and thought Edmund was some sort of threat.

“Take your hands off her,” he said.

Edmund’s laughter slowly died away. Instead of releasing Bianca, he pushed her behind him. “Who the devil are you?” he demanded.

“Give me Bianca or I will come and take her,” Theo said. Bianca shivered at the tone in his voice. He meant every word.

“Theo—” she began.

“I’ll handle this,” Edmund interrupted. “I don’t know who the devil you think you are, but I have known Bianca since she was born. Try to touch her, and you’ll be the one who is sorry.”

Silence descended over the Mound. “Do you know this man, Bianca?” Theo asked.

She peeked out from behind her friend. “Yes. He’s Edmund Peters, one of our neighbors.”

Edmund looked back at her. “Do you know this man?”

Bianca moved out of Edmund’s shadow, and Theo grabbed her arm and dragged her closer to him. She tried very hard not to enjoy the feel of his hand on her sleeve. “I do know him. Edmund, meet Theophile Filliol. He’s here as my—er, protector.”

Theo bowed. “Mr. Peters. My apologies for my earlier behavior.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Filliol. Why does Bianca need a protector?”

“It’s a long story,” Bianca said, waving a hand dismissively.

“Not really,” Theo said. “She was almost abducted three times in London. Fortune hunters.”

“What?” Edmund exploded. “Who were these men? Is Kitty safe?”

Bianca almost smiled. There he was, asking about Kitty again. “She was safe when I left five days ago.”

“But you haven’t heard from her since.”

Bianca realized that she hadn’t had any letters from her sister or her father since she’d departed London. That wasn’t unusual, however. They’d not even been apart for a week. “I haven’t, but—”

“I’d better go.”

“Go where?” Bianca asked.

“London.” He started away, not even taking his leave. “If you were a target, Kitty will be one as well.”

“I assure you, the elder Miss Featherswallow is in no danger,” Theo added. “There’s not a man in Town who dares come within six feet of her.”

“I’d like to make certain of her welfare myself,” Edmund called, disappearing down the path now. “Good day, Bianca!”

“Give my regards to my father and Kitty!” she called.

“I will.” She heard only his voice, as he was already well on his way.

Bianca turned to Theo. “And what was that all about? Do you make a habit of threatening people you have just met?”

He put his hands on his hips. “You think to lecture me? How dare you disappear without even a word. No one knew where you were. You could be halfway to Scotland by now if one of the men after you in London had been lying in wait.”

She scowled at him. “Really, Theo, that is quite ridiculous. You have been all over this estate these past days. We are quite safe here. Moreover, I haven’t had to tell anyone where I was going since I was about eight. I know this place better than you ever will. Now, if you will excuse me.” She started away then realized she had come to the Mound to enjoy the view. So she turned back around. “Actually, why should I be the one to leave? You know where I am now. You go back down.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Do you plan to follow me everywhere now?”

He nodded. “Yes. That’s what a protector does.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “You are not my protector. That was just a ruse so I might convince you to marry me. Clearly, you have no interest in becoming my husband. You might as well return to London. Go ahead.” She waved him away as though he were a fly. “I won’t say a word. Mrs. Dove-Lyon will never know.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to protect you, and I’ll do my duty.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Just what I have always wanted—to be some man’s duty.”

“So what do you want?” he asked.

“To marry you!” she said.

His face registered surprise, and she felt almost as surprised as he looked. She hadn’t known she would say such a thing. What was wrong with her? He was right when he’d said earlier that she hardly knew him—but she wanted to know him. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel safe again, like she’d felt in his arms.

“If you knew who I really am,” he said, “you wouldn’t want me for your husband. You wouldn’t even think me good enough to be your protector.”

Bianca heard the pain in his voice and couldn’t resist moving closer to him. She reached out and touched his arm, but he flinched away. “Why do you say that? From what I have seen these past days, you’re one of the best men I’ve ever met.”

“No, I’m not.” He folded his arms over his chest, clearly indicating the subject was closed. “If you insist on staying here, then I’ll stay with you. From now on, when you are out of the house, I’ll be by your side.”

Bianca sighed and turned back to the view. She should never have agreed to this plan. She had two weeks left with this man and no hope of finding a husband. What she did have was a shadow who’d be at her side, reminding her how much she wanted him and he didn’t want her.

Unfortunately, the view was spoiled for her now. She lifted her skirts and started back down, Theo right behind her.

Day Eight

The next three days were some of the longest of Theo’s life. He would have wagered everything he owned that Bianca was testing him. She went for long walks every day, spending hours trekking across the acres of Featherswallow land. Yesterday she had come down in the morning in a bright yellow dress unsuitable for walking. He thought he might finally be able to sit and rest, but she’d informed him she planned to call on her neighbors. Theo had been forced to visit no less than three local families, all of them landed gentry. While Bianca had chatted with the ladies of the houses, Theo had been gawked at by young girls not yet out. He had never heard so much giggling in his life.

But he’d realized something else as he sat almost silently in those drawing rooms. Lady Featherswallow had been well liked in this community. Everyone spoke of her highly. Clearly, though she had been dead six years, she was missed.

Just as clearly, Bianca still grieved the loss of her mother. A few times, as a neighbor recalled a story of her mother, she had to wipe away a stray tear. Theo had wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He felt that invisible connection between them growing, not only because he understood her grief, but because he realized he wasn’t alone in his.

What a fool he’d been to believe he was the only one who had suffered a loss, the only one in pain. His loss wasn’t special, and neither was his grief. The difference was he was weak and allowed his sorrow to ruin his life. Bianca was far stronger than he. She had pushed past the pain to attempt to continue her life.

Now, she sat across him in the dining room, sipping tea and staring out the window at the falling rain. Theo had thanked God when he heard the thunder boom early this morning. But seeing her disappointment at being stuck indoors, he felt rather guilty at his pleasure.

“The rain doesn’t appear to be letting up,” he said.

“No,” she agreed. “Even if it stops in the next hour or so, everything will be far too muddy for walking.” She rose. “I think I shall spend the rest of the morning in the library.”

Theo tried to remember if he’d seen the library. He had a vague notion where it was, on this ground floor, but he hadn’t gone inside.

“Excuse me.”

Theo told himself to stay in the dining room. She was perfectly safe in the house, especially in this weather, and he finally had time to himself. But as soon as she was out of his sight, he wanted to see her again. He liked the way her hair tumbled down her back and her eyes tilted up at the corners. He liked the annoyed look she gave him when he accidentally trod on her skirts because he was following too closely.

And he liked the shape of her lips, the way they moved when she spoke, the way they’d felt when he kissed her.

Theo blew out a breath. He had better stay in the dining room. The more time he spent with Bianca, the more he wanted to kiss her again. He finished his coffee, ate another helping of all the dishes he liked best, then strolled to the window to look out at the rain. Still coming down in sheets.

Perhaps before he found something to do, he would just poke his head in the library and make sure Bianca had settled in. He strode that way, almost passed it, then doubled back and knocked on the door. He opened it, and for a moment his heart almost stopped. He didn’t see her.

Then her head popped up from one of the long couches near the hearth. “Oh, it’s you,” she said. Her head disappeared again. The room was much warmer than the stone corridor he stood in, and he moved inside almost instinctively. He’d always liked the library at his family’s country estate, but he thought if his library had been half as lovely as this one, he would have spent all his time there.

The ceiling in this part of the house was very high, with an expansive bank of mullioned windows on the far side. Stained glass formed the upper section of the windows, but the lower sections were clear to brighten the room on a sunny day. This day was not sunny, and the room was lit by lamps and the roaring fire in the enormous hearth. He had thought the hearth in the great room massive, but this one would easily fit three men. If they’d been on the shorter side, they might have all stood tall and looked from the hearth into the chamber.

On the other three sides of the room were shelf after shelf of books. The shelves extended from floor to ceiling, with a ladder on a rail available to guests who wished to reach the highest volumes.

“I’ve never seen so many books,” Theo said, quite awed. “The library at my father’s estate has nowhere near this number of volumes.”

He moved toward the nearest wall of books and ran his hand over the leather volumes, noting that some shelves held books three and four deep. At the end of the wall of books was a set of drawers. “What’s in here?” he asked.

The head of chestnut curls popped up from the couch again. “Those are the ancient volumes. They’re under glass. Crosby has the key, if you want to take any out, though my father always insists one wear gloves when handling those tomes.”

Theo slid one of the drawers open and peered down at a book open under glass. It appeared to be an illustrated manuscript from the Middle Ages. He slid that drawer closed and opened another. “Is this one of the First Folios?” he asked, referring to the complete works of Shakespeare.

“Probably,” she said, not bothering to sit up this time.

Theo glanced about the chamber. “It would take a lifetime to read all of these books.”

“Then you should leave and allow me to get on with it.”

Theo ignored her obvious attempt to be left alone. “Is your father a collector?” he asked, moving along the next wall of books and closer to the hearth.

“Most of these books came with the house,” she said. He could see her now, as he was perpendicular with the couch where she reclined. She lay on her back, head propped on a red pillow, feet not quite reaching the end of the couch. She’d removed her shoes, and he could see her white stockings had embroidered flowers on the ankle. The flowers appeared to trail upward, but her skirts concealed her calves from view. “The oldest ones were acquired by the priests when this was a priory. Then the building was given by a king to the first Baron Featherswallow for some duty or another and passed down and down to the future barons until the head of house was made a viscount and so on and so forth.”

“From that vague retelling, I’m assuming you are not reading history.”

She lowered the volume. “Poetry. If you want to know the history of the house, my father can oblige you. He enjoys going on about it for hours at a time. My mother used to say…” She hastily lifted her book again. “Never mind.”

“You needn’t pretend she never existed. It’s clear to me you’re still mourning her.”

She didn’t lower the book. “What do you know about it?”

He knew quite a lot about grief. Not that he had any right to speak on it or give advice, especially considering the way he’d handled his own grief. He moved toward the couch and took a seat, lifting her ankles so he might do so, and placing her feet on his lap. “I don’t know very much,” he said, placing a hand on her feet lightly. She had small feet, which wasn’t surprising considering she was not a tall person. “You probably should tell me to mind my own business. I’m in no position to give advice.”

“Why is that?” she said from behind the book.

He ran a hand over one foot absently. “I’ve suffered grief, and I haven’t dealt with it nearly so well as you. People always told me that talking about it might help. If you want to talk about your mother, I’m happy to listen.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Theo listened to the ticking of the longcase clock near the windows. Finally, she said, “It’s odd because she has been dead six years, but sometimes I turn a corner and expect to see her. Sometimes, when I am walking back to the house, I think I catch a glimpse of her in a window. But when I come closer, I realize there’s nothing there. I was just so used to seeing her waiting at the window for me that it hurts all over again when she’s not there.”

Theo squeezed her ankle. “That must be difficult.”

“Not nearly as difficult for me as it is for Kitty. She was always so very close to Mama.” She finally lowered her book and looked at him. “That’s one reason she’s so late having her first Season. First our mother was ill, and Kitty wouldn’t hear of a London Season without her there. Then when Mama died, Kitty and Papa were so heartbroken that there was no question of traveling to London and dancing at balls or laughing at dinner parties.”

“How did you feel about that? After all, you had to wait for your Season too.”

Bianca’s chest rose and fell as she sighed. “I never begrudged them their grief, and I don’t long for the noise and excitement of London like some girls do. But I can’t help but think that if we hadn’t waited so long to come out, we wouldn’t be targets for fortune hunters. Somehow, in the years we were in seclusion and mourning, we became mythical beings that every man wanted to hunt.”

“Not every man.”

She looked down her nose at him. “Thank you for the reminder. In light of your indifference, perhaps you should release my foot.”

Theo looked down, not even aware that he’d been rubbing her feet quite absent-mindedly. He should apologize and stand up.

But he’d never been very good at resisting temptation.

“I should.” He slid his hand under the hem of her skirt, so he cupped her leg just above her ankle. “I should never have walked into the Lyon’s Den.” He moved his hand higher, sliding his palm over her calf. “I should never have continued to wager after I lost every penny I had to my name.” His hand covered her knee, and he heard her gasp. “But I continued to return, night after night, losing over and over again. Do you know why?” He allowed two fingers to tease the back of her knee until he felt her squirm.

“No,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Because I never can resist temptation.”

“I see.” Her voice was barely a whisper as he slid two fingers toward her garters, tied just above her knee.

“What about you? Can you resist temptation?”

“I-I…” She gasped as he loosened her garter and slid her stocking down.

“Tell me to remove my hand, Bianca.” She said nothing, and he traced a lazy figure eight on the soft skin on the back of her knee. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you here. I shouldn’t touch you here, you know.”

“I know.”

He raised a brow, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were very dark and very large, her mouth slightly parted, her cheeks pink. She looked absolutely delicious. “But?”

“But I don’t want you to stop,” she said.

Theo had never heard sweeter words. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched skin so soft. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so much. He slid his hands down her legs and held them out to her. She hesitated before placing her hands in his. He pulled her up and over his lap until she straddled him. Her book tumbled to the couch cushion beside them, and she stared down at him, her mouth agape.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m about to kiss you,” he answered, sliding a hand around the back of her neck. Her hair, in a tail secured by a ribbon at the back of her neck, teased his knuckles. “May I kiss you?”

She didn’t wait. She lowered her mouth to brush across his in the sweetest caress he’d ever experienced. When she made to pull away, Theo pressed lightly with his fingers on the back of her neck and continued the kiss. He kissed her gently, just a brief press of his lips to hers. Then he pulled back and looked at her. She was so beautiful, and she was looking at him as though he were the most delectable dessert on the table. How could he not want her?

He kissed her again, this time lingering a bit longer, tasting her with a slow flick of his tongue. She gasped, and he took advantage of her parted lips to slide his tongue along her mouth. And then inside. The shock of sensation that flooded through him when he rubbed against her tongue made him lightheaded.

Of course, that might have been because all the blood in his body seemed to be rushing to his cock, which strained at his trousers. She was on her knees, but he could feel the heat of her body, wanted to pull her closer so she could feel what she did to him.

The kiss continued as he slid a hand about her waist and gently lowered her until she sat on his lap. He didn’t know if she could feel how hard he was, but he could feel the way she trembled against him. He paused for a moment, worried she was afraid, but she made a sound of annoyance and pulled him closer to continue their kiss.

Theo was the one having difficulty breathing now. She was trembling with desire. For him.

His hand slid down over her hip and down until he found the hem of her dress. It had been ruched up to her knees by the position she was in. This was the leg from which he’d untied the garter. He felt the silky skin of her leg as he trailed a path upward, under her skirts to the bare skin of her thigh. She was so very soft, and so sweetly warm. He moved his hand higher until he encountered the curve of her hip. He opened his hand over it, his fingers on her bare buttock.

She moaned softly, her mouth moving against his with even greater urgency. Theo couldn’t resist thrusting his hips, just slightly, and the friction when his cock moved against her sex made him groan.

She pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. I’m merely torturing myself.”

Her brow furrowed, and he repeated the thrust of his hips, slower this time, lingering when their bodies made contact. His fingers tightened on her buttocks as he struggled with control.

She inhaled sharply. “I see.” Then to his shock, and pleasure, she repeated the movement herself. “Oh, yes, I see.”

She would be the death of him. He felt like a boy of seventeen again, ready to explode at just the idea of a female touching him. She wasn’t wearing anything under her layers of skirts and petticoats. He could loosen his falls and be inside her.

And then he’d absolutely have to marry her.

Why didn’t he want to marry her, again?

He couldn’t remember in this instant, but he knew better than to deflower a virgin without having noble intentions. Presently, his intentions were anything but noble.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t show her something of pleasure. He slid his hand lower, back over her hip, until his palm rested on the top of her thigh, fingers tracing a lazy path on the tender inner skin of her leg. He kissed her again, then pulled away slowly. “May I touch you?” He pressed his fingers into her flesh. “Here?”

“I don’t think I should say yes.”

“You definitely shouldn’t.”

But her eyes were locked on his, her breath coming quickly as he continued tracing small circles on her thigh.

“But you must say yes if you want me to continue.”

“Yes,” she whispered, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear.

His fingers moved closer to the heat of her. He could feel that she was wet, was ready for him. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and groan at the surge of need coursing through her. When had he felt desire this strongly?

He brushed his fingers over her sex, and she let out a gasp.

“Shall I continue?”

This time she didn’t hesitate. “ Yes .”

He brushed his fingers over her again, watched as her eyelids lowered and her lips parted. She was so beautiful. He almost wished he could marry her so he might be the man to strip her bare, lay her down, and worship her body with his own.

His light brushes became more deliberate as he slid his fingers over her quivering flesh until he found her slick channel. His eyes still locked on her face, he dipped one finger in. She moaned and moved her hips, taking more of him inside. She was hot and tight, and when he withdrew his finger, it was slippery. He parted her flesh, finding that small nub, then skated his wet finger over it.

“Oh my God,” she murmured, her hands clamping down on his shoulders. “What are you—” She inhaled sharply as he circled the small bud with his finger. Her eyes grew hazy and unfocused, so dark they were almost black. “Theo,” she breathed, arching to give him better access.

Oh, yes, he could well imagine her in bed. With her first taste of pleasure, all of her shyness would melt away, revealing the passionate creature she really was.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Do you know what you’re asking me for?” he murmured.

She shook her head. “Just don’t stop.”

Oh, he had no intention of stopping. He continued stroking her, dipping into her—one finger then two—and listening as her breathing grew more rapid. He tapped and flicked, and finally, when she was panting and clutching at him, he let her climax. He felt the way her body tightened and watched as she threw her head back, murmuring nonsense as she soared higher.

And then she came back down again, sagging against him, her head on his shoulder. And though his cock ached, and he had the urge to get up, go to his chamber, and relieve the need building inside him, he couldn’t resist wrapping her in his arms and pulling her close.