Page 14 of A Wallflower Demands Satisfaction

“Because I’m the one who’s been watching over you for as long as either of us can remember.”

She’d turned in his arms by then.“Then where have you been?I thought you’d abandoned me.”

“Never,” he said, in a hoarse whisper.“Not now, not ever.”

When he marched her back to the staircase leading up to the level of the private boxes, she turned and swiped at the tears that had escaped below the mask and down her cheek.“From where I stand, you certainly don’t act like someone who’s devoted to me.”

He turned ominously silent until they reached the staircase landing.

She started to complain again, but before she could, he pulled her toward a darkened corner, leaned down and claimed her lips in a short, rough kiss.When he pulled away quickly, as if contact with her mouth had scorched his skin, she pulled him back for a deeper kiss.He didn’t pull away this time.

After a tentative exploration of his lips, Olivia opened her mouth to him and he probed her depths with his tongue, until they sank into a final kiss so deep and long, that they didn’t hear Dickie glide up.

“St.Swithin’s elbow…where in Hades have the two of you been?I was about ready to call in Obadiah and his outriders to find you.I thought you might be floatin’ in the Thames, but nooo, here you are in a dark corner carryin’ on like a couple of shriekin’ cats in an alley.”

Olivia could barely breathe for aching with want, and she was pretty sure Will was grateful at that moment for the roomy trousers of the Peelers’ uniform, which they were forced to wear everywhere.

Her head spun with questions.What had just happened?Why had Will been pretending to be nothing more than a friend all this time?More importantly, how could she go through with the silly charade of finding a gentleman of the ton to marry when the man she wanted in her bed, and in her life, stood before her, shifting from one booted foot to the other, his face a scarlet shade of shame?

April 23,1830

Duke of Chelmsford’s Mansion

Berkley Square, Mayfair

Olivia cocked her head to the side and walked slowly around her bedchamber, trailing the fingers of one hand along the many ensembles laid out on the top of the counterpane of her bed.Madame Clarot and her assistant stood in the corner awaiting her verdict.Each ensemble had been carefully wrapped and padded with tissue paper to discourage wrinkling.Empty boxes the dressmakers had brought full of their frantic week’s worth of work were piled high in the hallway outside.

She was having a hard time concentrating on her wardrobe for the Season after what had happened at the opera earlier that week.

In all her daydreams where she’d imagined a first kiss with Will, the reality of how he’d stolen one the night of the opera had taken her breath away.

She’d pictured a scene where, similar to a farce on a Covent Garden stage, the dialogue would be something along the lines of: “A kiss?”he’d say.“What’s this?”he’d say.“You’re just a child…you’re my best friend’s sister.”

The reality of his passionate seizing of her lips had taken her totally by surprise.Even now, the memory was like something that had never entered her wildest imaginings.

She ended her reveries abruptly and gave her lady’s maid a mischievous look.“What shall we try on first?”

“Miss Whitcombe, please…” Madame Clarot interrupted, “let’s see you in your ballgown first so that we can start the alterations as soon as possible.”

Olivia frowned.

“The ball is happening next Tuesday no matter what you do.You do realize that?”Her maid, Louisa, gave out a small huff of exasperation.

“All right.Let’s get this over with.”She raised her arms so that Louisa could lower the gown over her stays, shift, and petticoat.The elaborate dress settled over her body like the whisper of a white linen cloud.When she joined the modistes in front of the full-length mirror, she caught a glimpse of a virginal young woman cloaked in a fragile mist of icy white innocence.The thought caused her stomach to turn in disgust.

She didn’tfeelvirginal, although in fact, she was.The reason she was still virginal had nothing to do with virtue.A sudden realization slammed into her.The only man with whom she’d ever have considered sharing her body was also the only man who’d always been too proud and stubborn to accept what she had to give.

Why did he have to be so damned noble?

Madame Clarot snapped her fingers and ordered in a garbled tone through a mouth full of pins, “We’re done with this one, Miss Whitcombe.Let’s move on to one of the carriage dresses, for heaven’s sake.Otherwise, you’ll need to start making reciprocal calls after your coming-out…with nothing to wear.”

Olivia jerked back to reality and obediently raised her arms again.Agreeing to Dickie’s cork-brained idea of her becoming a lady of the ton had been one of the most colossal bad ideas in her short life.

9

APRIL 23, 1830

DUKE OF CHELMSFORD’S MANSION