Page 31 of A Gentleman's Wager

Following the ball, bad weather kept them all confined for several days. When the rains finally relented, it was agreed that they would walk to the little Norman church for Lucerne had expressed an interest in seeing it’s interior. He was already some way ahead of the group as they approached the graveyard. The rest of them were shambling along with considerably less purpose, Wakefield and Louisa bringing up the rear.

“I know a girl who’s game for a guinea,” Joshua remarked.

“A guinea! I know one who’ll sing for a shilling,” Charles replied.

Bella, who was strolling behind them tactically kept her expression neutral, so they might not realise they were being overheard. They’d been muttering furtively for several minutes, so it seemed apparent they were up to something. What, she’d yet to discern.

“But will she pass for a lady?” Pennerley asked. “We’re after a peach, remember, not Granny Smith.” He shot a backward glance at Louisa, giving Bella the distinct impression, they were plotting something. She wasn’t sure if she ought to call them out over it or mind her own business.

“Ahem,” her brother coughed loudly, noticing her eavesdropping. “Bella, you ought to show Marlinscar around.”

She had little interest in the church, but Lucerne turned on hearing his name and signalled his pleasure at the idea, and prudence won out. At least it would be a chance for them speak to one another. They’d not had a moment alone together since the ball, which didn’t mean she couldn’t still feel the tingle in her cunny he’d raised with his tongue.

They reached the church, which sat in a hollow halfway between Lauwine and the source of the iron-tainted stream that flowed from Hill End past the Rushdale mine. On first seeing the ancient building folks often thought it was sinking, as the graveyard sat level with the sills of the stained-glass windows, with only a narrow channel separating the two. Lucerne escorted her within and set about admiring the muralled walls and rich colours of the glass.

Bella, who’d been christened here, and attended innumerable services, focused her attention on Lucerne. As she’d quickly learned to expect, he was immaculately turned out in white breeches and a black coat that was square-cut across the front with a high M-cut collar. It was much colder within than it had been without, so that she pulled her wrap tightly around her shoulders. The church always made her think of mouldering corpses and decay, perhaps due to its unmistakably dank earthy smell.

“Is the church really sinking?” Lucerne asked.

He was the brightest spot in its dismal interior, without competition, even from the painted seraphim with their golden halos smiling down serenely from the lofty perch up on the ceiling.

“I’ve always heard it’s due to the number of corpses. Joshua used to tease me that when the ground got too waterlogged, the bodies would float, and that the channel around the outside is to stop them coming to church for the service.”

“Did he do a lot of teasing?”

Bella shrugged.

“It’s a pretty ghastly story.”

“I’ve read worse.”

“Yes, I believe we touched upon that the other night. You’re an Udolpho enthusiast.”

“And you—”

“I’m a Rushdale enthusiast.”

It took a moment for her to fathom his meaning. “Oh!” She bowed her head coyly.

Lucerne in turn lifted her chin. He was wearing leather gloves, which felt strange against her skin. “I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant to you. We were rudely interrupted at the ball, and have not managed a single tête-à-tête since, but perhaps you prefer it that way.”

“Why ever would you think that?”

“It may have occurred to you that I’m a rogue.”

Bella laughed. “Funnily, I think I knew that about you already, my lord.”

“Then might you stomach a little of my wickedness?” He pulled her close to his chest and slid his hands down the curve of her back to her bottom, which he unashamedly started to massage. Even through her clothing, Bella could feel his gloves. They rasped against the fabric, determinedly. The sudden forwardness was surprising, the others, her brother included, were only outside, but she wasn’t about to discourage him. There was a firm bulge in the front of his breeches, which sent showers of sparks flickering between her pubis and her breasts. Bella’s nipples stiffened and stood like two cherries waiting to be plucked. She wanted to feel his lips around them, sucking and playfully nipping. Instead, he kissed the crown of her head and began to tease out the pins holding her hazel locks in place. “You smell nice, like roses.”

“Lord Marlinscar…Lucerne.”

“Yes.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“No. Definitely not.” He brushed his covered fingers across her lips. “If I were doing that, I’d choose somewhere warmer, with less company, and more wine.”

“Somewhere like a library, perhaps?”