Page 25 of A Gentleman's Wager

“What do you enjoy?”

He chuckled. “Pleasure for the most part. Fine clothing. Fine wine. Anything that brings ease to my day.” His gaze flicked to the door, which Bella had pushed to behind them. “The smiles women wear when they look at a fellow in a certain way… When they want, and you know it’s in your power to give…” He lifted her hand and turned her fingers to his cheek.

“Do I look at you in that way?”

“Very much so, Miss Rushdale.” He drew her fingers to his lips and sucked the middle one into his mouth. Bella watched him entranced, as he circled his tongue around the tip, before sucking the digit deep again.

“You don’t fear we might be come upon?”

“My valet knows precisely where I am.” And would ensure they were not happened upon in any compromising pose. “Tell me what it is you desire, Bella? You are my guest, and I aim to please.”

All her life, Bella had only ever truly desired two things. The first, to set foot outside the county border and travel far and wide like the women in the stories she loved best. Secondly, that she would one day be mistress of the house in which they currently stood, and that Lucerne owned. Ever since the first time she’d stolen into the overgrown gardens this place had been embedded in her soul. She knew practically every inch of its grounds, though the interior was new. Many’s the time she’d considered prying a window latch and wriggling through, but she’d never quite had the courage to do it.

Now though, she was ready to add a third, much simpler and more visceral desire to that number – that Lucerne Marlinscar found it in his rakish heart to ravish her with alacrity upon his wide oak desk, with its solid base and ox-blood leather top. “I think you already know.”

“But imagine me a dunce, and spell it out.”

“If I imagined you that, I wouldn’t wish it. Kiss me, Lucerne.” She was already reaching for him.

“So small a request,” he said, nevertheless, granting it.

It was no coy kiss, rather a declaration of intent, open-mouthed and full of tongue. Wet. But with an unexpected underscoring of tenderness. The sort of kiss that was a prelude to other pleasures and that confirmed to Bella all her assumptions about him were correct.

Her hands slipped inside his coat at the same time his fingers bunched the fabric of her dress, inching the hem upwards until the entirety of her left stocking was revealed. She moaned as they broke for air, only for Lucerne to lift her onto the desktop.

Bella pulled him forward again, lips parted eagerly. This second kiss was every bit the equal of the first. Hard and generous. Exactly the right amount of messy.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, as he slid her up against his hips. The ridge of him pressed fast to the apex of her legs, causing her to jump. She’d seen him fully exposed, but the firmness, the heat of him, that was still a surprise.

“So willing,” he murmured, puffing aside a few stray wisps of her hair. “One has to wonder why you ever ran?”

“Perhaps I enjoy being chased.”

“Yes.” His eyes glittered with merriment. “I rather think you do.” He captured one breast then and pinched the nipple into a stiff little point. He couldn’t mouth it without leaving a mark upon her clothing, making Bella wish her neckline sat as absurdly low as Millicent’s. “But I rather think you like being caught even more.”

“That,” Bella corrected him, “entirely depends on who’s doing the catching.”

-17-

Louisa

Whispers followed Louisa’s arrival on the dance floor. Who was she? Why, of all the ladies present, had the marquis chosen to favour her, and not any other? Louisa wondered much the same thing. She skipped, stepped, and kissed her way through the gavotte with feigned enthusiasm. In truth, she would readily have swapped places with any of the envious ladies pretending not to peer at them over the tops of their fans if it would allow her to return to Frederick’s side.

Wakefield had taken to the card tables, where he sat opposite Charles Aubury. Judging by the small court of hecklers around them the stakes were raising rapidly. She had not realised him possessed of such a reckless streak. He had always seemed to her prudent and measured in his ways.

“Perhaps you imagined him a saint,” Pennerley observed when they re-joined the circle after completing their solo parts.

“I do not know—”

“Please, spare me your deflection.”

Louisa relented with a sigh. “It is merely that I’m curious. They are drawing quite a crowd.”

Vaughan studied her bemusedly. “Fret not. I’m sure your captain has an ace up his sleeve.”

Louisa gaped at him in astonishment. Surely, he had not meant to imply that Frederick would cheat. Although, based on the growing commentary coming from the card tables, the tide did seem to be rapidly turning in his favour. Poor Mr Aubury kept pressing his kerchief to his brow.

“Fools, both,” Pennerley remarked, returning her attention back to him.