Page 14 of The Lady (Daughters of Dishonour #3)

I t was lovely and peaceful out in the countryside, away from the hustle and bustle of London.

The sound of birdsong echoed from outside.

The scent of the herb garden and cinnamon drifted up from the kitchen through the open window.

Despite the occasional whooping noise from one of the Langley twins, it was a heaven-sent house.

Dressed in one of Margot’s chemises, as well as a freshly pressed sprigged muslin day gown, Flora was more than happy to meander down the stairs and back towards the parlour, where Margot would be. And Philip.

Last night with Philip had been everything she had hoped for. Better than that, in fact. Any initial discomfort had faded under Philip’s administrations and care. His passion. The tenderness of his kiss. The absolute dedication in his touch. How the sensations had consumed and crashed through her.

It was almost enough to believe that he loved her. As much as she loved him.

She knew there was a great deal they would have to discuss and resolve, but if he held her like that, kissed her in that way… Surely, he must care, and there might be hope for the idea of marriage in their future.

Flora turned the corner, heading towards the parlour, and Philip manifested before her as if she had wished him there. “My lady.” He dipped his head in greeting.

“Hello.” Flora could not help the softness eking into her voice as he looked at him. A grin broke over her face, and she hurried over the last remaining steps, eager to wrap her arms around his neck again. She reached him, lifting up her hands to embrace him.

But Philip stepped back. “I am sorry.” There was a heavy note of reluctance to his tone yet the coldness to his stance was visible.

Fear cascaded through Flora, surely, she could not have misread his character so entirely.

Had she been one of those foolish girls, swayed by the seductiveness of an older man, wantonly led astray by a doctor, a man she had loved for a decade…

if last night was to mean nothing to him?

Was he more like his rake of a brother, than she’d initially thought?

Philip was speaking, his voice coming from a long way off, but Flora could not make sense of his words.

“I have a little savings, and with them I could make for the coast. Perhaps to France, as I can speak the language or?—”

“You wish to leave?”

“My mother has manipulated the situation perfectly. If I am to act honourably and cause the least amount of scandal?—”

“Do you wish to go?” Unable to help herself, a tremble entered Flora’s voice, and she had the small satisfaction in seeing the facade that Philip had created suddenly crumble.

“Of course I don’t. I have no desire to leave my family, my home…

you.” His hand reached out and he cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin and sending shivers through her body.

He stepped closer, looking pained. “Everything I have hoped to build in my future.” He leant closer and placed his forehead against hers.

“Dammit Flora, I am falling in love with you, of course I don’t want to leave you. How can you ever imagine that?”

The tears dried on her cheeks, and she smiled up and up, throwing herself forward and into his arms. “That is all I wanted to hear.” Her lips met his, and she kissed him heartily, pulling back to murmur against his mouth, “You see I love you.”

Philip’s arms tightened around her, pulling her closer still.

He let out a loud sigh that seemed wrenched from his very depths.

The brief struggle suddenly vanished as he lifted Flora up and resumed kissing her.

It was wonderful. His lips were firm and sensual, and his tongue nudged into her mouth, sweeping in and capturing all.

She relaxed into his grip, liberated by her confession and his acknowledgement of his own feelings.

The kiss deepened and lengthened and soon they were pressed against the wall, Philip’s hard body cradling hers.

“When I said I was falling for you…”

“Yes.” Flora gasped, her breath shaky as she clung to his broad shoulders.

“I might have underestimated my feelings.”

Flora could not resist smiling as his mouth reclaimed hers.

As they backed into the half-open cupboard, Flora was pleased when they slammed the door closed behind them.

Their hands scrambled at their loosened clothes, and Philip dropped to his knees before lifting Flora so he could bury his mouth beneath the folds of her skirt.

Once his face was nuzzling her inner thighs, it was hard to remember all the things they should have been doing.

Or saying. Or thinking. All that mattered was his featherlike touch, the stroking and the feel of him, kissing closer and closer to her curls.

When his tongue pressed into the folds of her sex, Flora leant farther back against the panes of the door, sensation, colour, and sensuality rippling through her.

And tenderness from the previous night vanished as she closed her eyes, letting the moans escape her lips.

His fingers dipped inside her as well, stroking and caressing her to high heights of pleasure.

Only when abruptly, he eased himself upright, his lips nudging against her collarbone, neck and throat, did Flora groan out her frustration that he had moved.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasped.

“Please,” she said, her fingers pulling at his clothes as his body bumped up against hers, and she all too briefly felt the press of his member.

Philip struggled out of his trousers as he pressed her more fully against the wall. Their lips tangled, their bundled-up mix of materials catching between their bodies and causing annoyed laughter to slip from her mouth. How he could infuriate and titillate her all at once.

With one deft movement, his hand slid between their bodies to the wet point his mouth had just left. Softly, tenderly, he teased her, edging her nearer to the endless offer of pleasure, and how she wished to launch herself into it.

“Flora.” His voice was husky, raw with desire, and she lifted her eyes and met his.

“I love you.” As he said the words, they resembled a plea or a promise she wasn’t sure which, but it didn’t matter, all that did was the veracity of it, and the movement of his hips as he thrusted inside her.

Possessing her. Claiming her cry of delight and enthusiasm.

His body pinned her against the wall, the cupboard around them blurring as the sensation of want, need, and pleasure cascaded through Flora’s body.

All she could do was cling to his shoulders and give into the overwhelming waves of it.

She heard him mutter a curse as her body clenched tightly around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she arched her hips upwards. The thrusting motion increased, rocking more fully inside her, seemingly to touch every inch of her, not merely physically but emotionally too.

“I love you too,” she said as she lifted her head, her mouth brushing against his forehead as she felt him shudder, deep within her.

Their breathing mingled, rough, broken, snatched as they exchanged the occasional kiss, righting their clothes as they went.

“I believe we will need to leave this most convenient closet,” Philip said once they were as decent as they could be.

Flora’s gaze locked with his. “If you are leaving England, then I will be going with you.”

Philip gave her a wry smile, interlinking their fingers. He let out a hearty sigh. “I hardly think eloping with a duke’s sister is the course of action, my mother meant by disappearing from the eye of the ton . It will be quite the most scandalous thing I could think of doing.”

“Just because you are a doctor, and used to doing things for others, it does not mean you have cut yourself off just because she commands it.” Flora looked up into Philip’s face.

“We can find another way of helping Mrs. Turbot.” That being said, she reached confidently for the door handle and turned it, pulling them both out and into the sunlit corridor.

To her utter dismay, there stood the twins—Langley and Margot’s sons—and Timothy Turbot, who stared up at the pair of them most suspiciously.

“What were you doing in the cupboard?”

“Is it a good hiding spot?”

“Why are you holding hands?”

The boys’ questions bounded off each other, and Flora was just grateful that little Timothy felt no need to interject. Or ask questions himself.

She turned imploring eyes to Philip, who was flushing slightly. “They’re your nephews.”

“Boys,” Philip said in what was an assured calm. “You’ll be delighted to know you’re soon to have a new aunt—dear Lady Flora has agreed to marry me.”

There was a whooping noise but before Flora could hug either boy, there was a laugh from the distance, and she lifted her head to see Margot and Langley approaching them. Their arms were interlocked, and they looked remarkably pleased with themselves.

“How lovely,” Margot said, and kisses Philip’s cheek and then hugged Flora on reaching them. “We’ll really be sisters then.”

“What decidedly excellent news,” Langley said. He bent and scooped up Timothy. “Oh, you’re not one of mine.” He ruffled the boy’s hair as he lowered him back down to the floor. “Your mother is down in the kitchen enjoying some rhubarb syllabub, I am sure she would like you to go and have some too.”

“Can we go?”

“Yes, Father, we want to go too.”

“No, no, we’re going to hear all about this rather wonderful engagement.” Langley looked between Flora and Philip. “Although,” he said in an undertone, “I am sure we don’t need to know why the closet had anything to do with the sudden announcement.”

“This way, this way.” Margot hurriedly ushered everyone back towards the parlour, and Flora, despite her own embarrassment, followed along, hand clasped with Philip’s.

Langley also ushered all of them back into the parlour, then carefully helped his wife back into her seat, placing a cushioned footstool at her feet before he turned towards Flora and Philip.

His eyes sparkled at his previous teasing joke, but when he spoke, he sounded serious.

“All things considered, it might be best to make a break for Scotland.” He looked closely at Philip before adding, “I assume you would not object to the journey?”

“Elope?” Margot had settled most comfortably in her chair, but even she looked disappointed by this idea.

“I did hope you might have agreed to have the wedding here, although I am sure with this babe—” She momentarily rested her hand on her belly and then smiled up at Flora.

“I soon might not be the best of hostesses.”

“I would like to speak to the duke if I can.” Philip moved away from Flora as he helped the twins take down and arrange their chess set. The boys started to play.

“Surely, it would be appropriate to call on my future brother-in-law and ask for his blessing.” Philip asked.

“Just the neatest course of action,” Langley said. He moved closer to his wife, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. “Then there would be no waiting around for His Grace’s approval or a chance he might discover what my mother has been up to?—”

Flora interrupted him. “I am of age. I no longer have a guardian. So, I don’t need my brother’s approval,” Flora added.

“Although I am sure he would raise no…” She caught the dubious look that both Langley and Philip were giving her, and so continued a little more cautiously, “serious objections to the match.”

“Given His Grace raised objections to his wonderful but illegitimate cousin marrying me,” Langley said, “no matter how much I stressed that certain compromising activities had certainly already taken place and?—”

“What does compromising mean?” one of the twins called out from the chess set they were playing with. His green eyes, alive with curiosity, stared at his father and then his mother.

Hastily, Flora covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from laughing.

“Besides,” Langley continued as he shook his head at his son, “I am sure it will be a great deal more romantic without two boisterous twins, an expectant mother, and me about your ankles. If it’s a matter of money?—”

“No,” Philip said. He slipped his hand into Flora’s, and she was grateful for the renewed connection.

For the strength of his grip, and the sense of purpose that seemed to emanate from him.

“I have enough for us to be comfortable. However, there is the outstanding issue of the dowager.” He lowered his voice and added, “Not to mention the matter around the Turbots. Nonetheless?—”

“Surely,” Margot said, leaning forward in her seat so she could look at first Philip and then her husband, “you must know we will do all we can to support Mrs. Turbot and her son. Until the dowager has been located, and locked up if necessary?—”

“I have hired a good man for the job,” Langley cut in smoothly.

“From everything I could gather from my connections in London, the two of them made it to Dover. In which case, once they have been found, I will journey down to our mother.” He paused and made a sort of pained movement with his head as he looked at his wife.

“Well, not until the infant comes. Do not fear Maggie, I will come to a solution which will suit all. No matter what the costs. The dowager’s suggestion that you fall on the sword of anonymity is frankly absurd. I will not allow it.”

Philip fidgeted at his brother’s speech, then Margot added in a much kinder tone, “I am sure all Silvester meant was we will not allow anything to spoil your happy union.”

“So, will it be Gretna?” Langley looked so boyishly curious that Flora could not help but laugh.

“Yes, I think Gretna would be the best thing for us.”

“Excellent, let me show you a few different inns along the way you may wish to frequent.”

“If they can be as hospitable as the one we stayed in last night, I would have no objection.” Flora was pleased to see a warm, blush colour Philip’s cheeks as Langley set about discussing the route north to Scotland, merriment at her allusion highly amusing the earl.