Page 12 of Dallying with the Diamond

“Really?” His statement should not have pleased her so much. “Will you solve me?”

“I hope not,” he said as he went down the steps of the temple. “I certainly hope not.”

What an extraordinary thing to say.Just inside the doorway, Honoria dropped onto the bench that circled the temple. From where she sat she was able to watch Leonidas Atherton retreat into the darkness. He did not look back. She shifted to watch the increasing activity on the terrace. The April night was cool, but not cold. No doubt the night air was a relief to those who had been in the crowded ballroom.

For Honoria, the slight chill of the night only made the heat that still coursed through her body more intense. She also suffered the loss of Leo’s body against hers more keenly. With her eyes closed tightly, she revisited the contours of his hard thighs against the back of her legs. His rough powerful hands had teased and tempted and aroused her as no man, real or imagined, had ever done before.

And she was to enjoy his skills as a lover again as soon as she wished.

“Here you are.”

Honoria shrieked and covered her mouth with her ungloved hand. “Good God, Julia, you frightened me near out of my wits. Where did you come from?”

“From the terrace, of course. What on earth have you been doing?” Julia grabbed Honoria’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilted her face into the torchlight at the entrance to the temple.

“You kissed him! Your lips are swollen.” Julia narrowed her eyes. “What else did you do?” The sound of numerous footsteps on the pebbled pathways had them both turning their heads quickly in the direction of the house. The moment the steps moved away from the temple, Julia released Honoria’s chin and leaned in to whisper. “You were supposed to see if he was amenable to your scandalous proposal, not kiss him. What else did you do? No. Wait. I don’t want to know.”

“Are you certain?” Honoria was suddenly giddy with excitement and wonder. She’d been more than a bit nervous and uncertain about her entire plan even after she’d been bold enough to drag the notorious lothario out into the gardens. But after what he’d shown her, after the incredible world of pleasure she’d caught a glimpse of in his arms, she had no fear, only desire. An overwhelming, thirsting need to experience more before it was too late.

Julia stared at her, mouth agape and eyes unbelievably wide. “You didn’t. Tonight? Here? Honoria!”

“Shhhh!” Honoria leapt to her feet and gripped Julia by the elbow. She gave the path to the mews and then the path to the terrace a careful perusal. “We’re going back inside for a while. You send for your carriage, and I will tell Papa I am going home with you. I’ll tell you everything, but you must stop looking at me as if I have grown an extra head.” She started toward the terrace with her friend in tow.

“You need an extra head because the one you have has gone completely witless. He actually agreed to your bargain? Slow down. My dancing slippers were not made for a forced march through a garden.”

Honoria dragged her up the stairs and stopped just outside the French windows that led into the press of the ballroom. She released Julia’s arm and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Do you remember the page I read to you about his encounter with a certain lady in a folly in the middle of the night?”

Julia gasped. She studied Honoria’s face and gasped again. “You didn’t!”

Honoria opened the French window, took a step inside, and glanced over her shoulder to give her friend a wicked grin. She glided into the ballroom with Julia close behind her. Her view of the scene differed greatly from that of less than an hour ago. The wet spot between her legs still throbbed. Her breast rubbed against the silk of her gown and ached.

There was more to the difference than that. Much more. The men seemed paler and faded. The inane chatter sounded silly and unimportant. Her body fairly vibrated with sensation. Her world had changed. The very idea was ridiculous, and frightening, and wonderful. And temporary.

Honoria’s step and smile faltered. She took a deep breath and continued towards the card room in search of her father. Temporary. She must remember that. Her liaison with Captain Atherton was a business arrangement of finite duration. She was going to have to make memories to last a lifetime. And she would. On the way to Julia’s townhouse, she would tell her friend everything. Then she would search through the journal and plan her next erotic adventure with the enigmatic outcast. Once she had her fill of him she would accept the Duke of Bitworth’s proposal and get on with her life.

“Do you have any idea what you are doing?” Julia asked once her footman closed the door to her carriage and she and Honoria were on their way to Julia’s home. “Do you have even a hint of how dangerous this is?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then you know precisely where you have left your glove.”

5

Ath tightened his grip on his engorged cock and arched his back into the plump feather mattress of his curtained bed. He slid the soft, silky length of fabric up and down and increased the pressure and speed of the motion with every stroke. The scent of flowers still clung to the purloined souvenir of his tryst with Lady Honoria. With his eyes closed tight and the slide of the material wrapped around his prick he could almost feel her delicate hand on him. He could hear the soft sounds she might make as he touched her and urged her to tease and torment him to completion. He panted and groaned as his imagination took control. One more stroke. Two. He roared her name as a powerful release shook his frame, and he collapsed against his sweat-soaked sheets. He’d ended every night and started every morning for the past week spending himself on the expensive silk glove. He’d washed the article so many times her scent was nearly gone.

His chamber door creaked open. “Captain Atherton? ’Tis eleven o’ clock, sir. I have your coffee and pastries.”

Ath scrambled to arrange the counterpane over his body. He tucked his hand that clutched Lady Honoria’s soiled glove beneath the covers. “Thank you, Cheddars. Leave it on the table. I’ll be up in a moment.” He patted the bed in search of his banyan. His valet would never open the bed curtains, but any variation of their normal morning routine might make the man curious. This morning he didn’t want anyone to know…

“Fool,” he muttered as he wiped his hand on his sheets and dragged his banyan across the bed. He rolled into a seated position and drew on the heavily embroidered floor-length reminder of the days before his exile. He shoved the glove under his pillow and fought his way past the brocade bed curtains. Cheddars had arranged the items from the battered silver tray on the table in front of Ath’s bedroom window. The valet had drawn the drapes and the morning sun shone onto the threadbare carpets. Three of the cats lolled in the sunlight. They hardly glanced up as Ath made his way around them to take his seat at the table.

“You have a message, sir. The boy brought it up a half hour past.” Cheddars handed him a sealed letter. Ath poured his coffee and bit into one of the sugared pastries on the chipped plate next to his sturdy cup. He ran his finger over the script on the front of the letter. He’d wondered if she’d changed her mind. His heart thudded against his ribs at the sight of the distinctly feminine handwriting.

“Bythe boyI assume you mean Dickie?”

“As you say, sir.” Cheddars sniffed as he began to gather the clothes Ath had scattered about the bedchamber sometime between midnight and dawn.

“Send him up if you will. I want his sister to launder the bed linens.”