Page 23 of A Gentleman's Wager

That made her smile.

“Truly, Louisa, it’s been agony waiting for this moment.”

“What’s so special about this moment?” she asked, eager for more endearments.

“Why, what a delicious tease you are. What is special, indeed? Only near everything. This, this moment, with you. Alone.” He traced one of the ringlets framing her face, then the curve of her cheek. “No, don’t speak. I’ve so longed to do this.” He bowed his head, bringing their lips onto a level and then together. It was beautifully tender, and ever so gentle. Slowly, slowly, she felt the pressure of his hand on her back, bringing them closer together.

Louisa felt the kiss through her body. It tingled in her nose, and along her spine, made her skin feel like it was alive with starlight. The apple she held fell and hit the ground with a soft thump.

“Frederick.” She met his kiss with a startling hunger of her own. The heat grew between them, reaching fever point when she felt the length of him press against her abdomen, it’s solidity both startling and intriguing.

“Louisa,” he uttered her name as if ensorcelled. “Lord, I don’t want to take advantage, but you feel so good.” His hands roved possessively over her bodice, making her nipples rasp against her stays. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

As a matter of fact, she could feel it quite well. She was no fool, though. While all things seemed possible, held within his arms – a life of happiness and freedom from her aunt’s tyranny, her own home, a family to love and cherish once again – she knew too well a woman’s worth was accounted largely in terms of her virtue.

Perhaps that wasn’t so grand a concern when you were so obviously destined for one another and with no impediment to you being wed just as fast as the banns might be called. Some might think it rushed, but she was sure of her heart. He held it. He had only to ask for it and she would give him it for always.

His large hands slid downward again, clasped the cheeks of her bottom. He held her fast, so that he could grind himself firmly against the juncture of her thighs. She longed to touch him, to trace his length, but dared not. What if he thought her too forward? Not passive or meek enough.

“Lud, Louisa.” His pupils gleamed, wide and inky as the river. “I wish that you’d touch me.” He began tugging at her skirts, while his kisses trailed away from her mouth and down the side of her throat drawing her deeper into the enthrallment.

“How do you mean exactly?” They were already pressed together more closely than she’d ever been with any other person before.

“I mean.” He took hold of her hand, held it to his chest, so that he felt the thump of his heartbeat, then began to draw it lower. “I’d like you to touch me—”

“Miss Stanley,” a voice called, cutting him off.

Louisa jumped, horrified to be caught. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears so loud she feared she’d swoon.

“It’s all right, Louisa. No one can see us. Just keep still. They’ll leave.”

“Miss Stanley.”

Louisa wasn’t so certain of that. The voice rang out again, determined. “It’s Lord Pennerley,” she hissed, recognition dawning. “I should go. I did promise him a dance, two in fact.”

“He accosted you again?”

“It wasn’t anything like that.” She pulled away from the heat of Frederick’s embrace and instantly felt the bite of the night air. “I’d best go.” There’s no sense in creating a fuss. Men had been known to call other men out over lesser offences. “Two dances won’t take long, then we can be together for the rest of the evening.” Indeed, for the rest of eternity if he would only get on with offering for her.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Then trust me. You trust me, don’t you, Frederick?”

His gaze softened as she spoke his name. “Of course.”

“Here I am,” she called emerging from the shielding woodland. Wakefield followed behind her. “Captain Wakefield was showing me the swans. They’re rather difficult to spot as they’re black. I’ve rarely seen black swans. What about you, my lord?”

“You promised me a dance, Miss Stanley. I do hope I’m not going to be jilted in favour of a swan, black or otherwise.”

“No, of course not.” She stepped towards him, praying the high colour in her cheeks and the obvious sparkle in her eyes was not so noticeable in the poor light. However, something told her that Pennerley knew exactly what she and Wakefield had been doing and might yet have something to say about it.

-15-

Wakefield

Wakefield plodded over to the fire burning on the lawn after Louisa left with Pennerley, he was sorely tempted to stalk after them. He didn’t trust the marquis, not a bit, and greatly disliked the attention he was showing Louisa. If Pennerley was genuinely interested in her he’d eat his best boots. It was far more likely that Pennerley was lavishing her with attention simply to put his nose out of joint. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Here. Drown your sorrow.” Joshua passed him a bottle of port. “You can’t win them all.”