Page 28 of The Scot’s Seduction (Heirs & Spares #2)

B ut what about you?”

Drusilla had never had a lover who was so intent on making her come; most gentlemen were primarily concerned with their own pleasure and were relieved when she got hers. A few more were solicitous of her pleasure but not to the extent of denying theirs.

“I am fine,” he said, licking his lips. He had her taste on his mouth. “I will take care of myself later, but I meant what I said. I want to wait. I want to savor all the moments, and this one seemed particularly delicious, wouldn’t you say?”

“Wouldn’t you say?” she retorted, flicking his mouth with her finger.

He gave her a feral smile, one she felt everywhere.

“I would.”

“Do you want to—?” she began, gesturing toward the upstairs.

“Join you in your bed? No, not tonight, Drusilla.” He paused, then spoke again. “Emily’s party is planned for ten days from now?”

She nodded. “Yes, and you’ll have to return to Cutty’s to get your hair cut—”

“I thought you liked my hair. What with grabbing it so much,” he interrupted.

She felt her cheeks flush. How was it she was actually embarrassed? After so many years of taking lovers, of participating enthusiastically in all sorts of activities, and she somehow was undone by his comment?

Perhaps it was the Scottish burr he spoke with. Or how he changed when he was...intimate. Becoming absolutely in control of the situation, demanding she succumb.

Which she happily did.

She bit her lip before replying. “I suppose we can—I suppose it would be fine to keep your hair as it is.”

His smile widened, and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes. She had just orgasmed, and yet his expression made her feel all tingly and alive, as though she was on the verge of a climax again.

No man had ever made her react so viscerally.

He rose from the carpet, then bowed. “I should wish you a good night, my lady,” he said. She could see his erection straining against the fabric of his trousers.

“That must be uncomfortable,” she said, nodding toward that area. “You should wait to go upstairs until—”

“I’ll just carry my jacket,” he replied, picking it up from where he’d draped it against the chair. “If you like, and you have no other engagements, I can take you on a tour of the buildings on offer tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “that would be lovely.”

“We have an appointment, then,” he said, bowing again, holding his jacket against his body. “Thank you for sparing my hair,” he added.

She flushed again. This was ridiculous, to be so discombobulated by this man. But here she was. “Yes, well, as you said—” And she made a vague gesture in the air, at which he laughed.

“Tomorrow at noon for the viewing, then?” he said.

“Noon,” she agreed.

He stepped out of the room, leaving her confused and blissful and eager.

Mere moments later, Joey tapped on the door, then entered without waiting for a response. She strode over and plopped down on the chair he’d had his jacket on, giving Drusilla a knowing look.

“It seems you’ve been busy,” Joey said.

“Do I look—?” Drusilla began.

“Absolutely. You appear to have been thoroughly ravished. Very impressive, to be able to do it here, and with him being so large.” Joey waggled her eyebrows.

Drusilla felt herself blush. Damn it.

“Well, we didn’t—I mean—” she said, and Joey’s eyebrows rose.

“That is intriguing. Tell me everything.”

“I don’t know if I can describe it adequately,” Drusilla said.

“Oh ho, so the earl has hidden talents,” Joey said, looking pleased. “I knew he would be a find in that area. It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.”

“He’s quite something,” Drusilla admitted. “He’s taking me out to tour the buildings tomorrow—are you free to join us?”

Joey shook her head. “No, I’ve got to review the menus and meet with the musicians for the party. I want to have everything settled a week prior to it, which gives me only a few more days for the planning. You know what we need anyway—you don’t need me.”

“I suppose,” Drusilla said, sounding doubtful.

“You don’t actually want me joining you, do you?” Joey asked, with a sly look toward her.

Drusilla scoffed. “It’s not as though he is going to have his way with me in one of these buildings.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Joey said, adopting a mock offended tone. “I just think you should be able to spend more time with him to get to know him better.”

“To what end, Joey?” Drusilla asked sharply. “There is no possibility of that happening. I understand you wish me to be happy, but neither of us wants a permanent relationship.”

“So you say,” Joey replied, sounding unconvinced.

“There is no possibility,” Drusilla said again.

Joey shrugged, then rose. “I never knew you to dismiss any opportunity, Dru. Don’t do it now.”

And with that, she exited the room, leaving Drusilla entirely confused.

“T he one with the sleeping quarters over the stables, that won’t do, though it was the biggest of them,” Drusilla said in a mournful voice.

It was teatime, and Murdoch and Drusilla had been out of the house since just after breakfast on a tour of all the potential buildings Murdoch could gift to her in exchange for her assistance with Emily.

Murdoch had been impressed with her quick assessment of each property, from gauging whether it would be large enough for her plans or have an appropriate retail space for whatever she was planning on selling.

What struck him most, however, was how passionate she was about her project. This meant something to her. It was more than just a gentlewoman doing good works; she truly believed that what she was doing was a benefit, and he had to believe in her.

Another reason why it was important she stay here, in London, where she could continue her work. It would be selfish to ask her to give it all up, to give up on the people who needed her, just because he’d fallen in love with her.

Damn it.

He’d just thought that, hadn’t he? And it was the truth.

He had fallen in love with her, and he couldn’t possibly tell her. Not just because it was absolutely not what they had agreed to, but because it would put her under an obligation he would not tolerate.

Even though he was nothing like the man she’d mentioned last night, he did have one thing in common with him—wanting something from her that she would not want to give. Her love. Her future.

No. He’d just have to see the relationship through to its natural end—when he left London and returned to Scotland, to his sheep and his accounts and precious little else—without ever mentioning his deeper feelings.

“But what do you think?” she said, making him jump.

“Think about—?”

They were in her receiving room, she on the sofa where she usually sat and he in the strongest-looking chair. It had survived him thus far; he just had to hope it lasted for another few months.

Like him. Would he last another few months? Without revealing how he felt?

He had to.

“Which property do you think would suit the best?”

He spread his hands out wide. “I am not certain precisely what you plan to do with it, to be honest.”

She threw her head back in laughter, then met his gaze. “You are absolutely correct. I did not tell you. That is entirely my fault—I am sorry.”

He recalled speaking with Miss Joey. “Is it similar to Langham Place?”

She looked surprised, then pleased. “Yes, though I want to actually house people—Langham Place helps with wage work and training, but isn’t able to accommodate families in need of immediate shelter.

I want to do all of it. I want to offer training for higher-wage jobs, I want to be a refuge for wives escaping abusive husbands, and I want to have a retail space so we can sell items to support some of the work.

Most of the funds will have to come from fundraising, but I want the people who need the services to feel as though it is not entirely charity. ”

“You might need more than one building, then,” he observed.

She nodded. “That will come in time, I hope. It’s going to keep me very busy, I can promise you that.

” She looked thoughtful. “I am not certain, in fact, how many more Seasons I will be able to attend. Though I’ll have to be present for some functions, if only to meet the people who can supply the monies I’ll need. ”

No time for anything but work. No place but London.

He knew it was already a foregone conclusion that she couldn’t possibly relocate, but to have it confirmed so soon after realizing his own feelings was dispiriting.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her tone concerned. “You’re not worried about Miss Emily, are you? I assure you, her party will be the talk of the Season!”

“No, not that,” he said hastily. “I have full confidence in your and Miss Joey’s abilities.” No, it’s that I am anticipating just how broken my heart will be when I settle Emily and return to my sheep and my rocking chair and my estate.

“Oh good,” she said, looking relieved.

“I don’t want to pressure you unduly, Miss Emily, but this decision is crucial.”

Drusilla, her charge, and one of the maids in training were standing in Miss Emily’s bedroom, viewing the vast array of evening gowns draped over every available surface. All of them were in varying shades of white, from a startling white that would make milk look dingy to shades of ecru and cream.

“Which one would you choose, Lady Dru?” Miss Emily asked, pleading blue eyes reminding Drusilla just how young the girl was.

“I would choose the one that makes me feel the prettiest,” Drusilla replied. She pointed to one of the gowns. “That one has those charming flounces—they add a touch of interest.”

In truth, they were all beautiful, and Drusilla didn’t have an opinion, but the two of them had been in this room for over an hour wrestling with the gown question. It was time to move Miss Emily’s decision-making forward.

“I’m not sure,” Miss Emily replied. “I might like the silk with the lace.” She gestured toward a gown draped on a chair, one that was in a potentially controversial color of bone, a few shades darker than absolute white.

“That is also lovely,” Drusilla replied.

“Though there is something very charming about the one with the overlay,” Miss Emily continued, approaching yet another gown to draw the tulle overlay between her fingers. The overlay was decorated with small jewels, which would shimmer in the candlelight.

“I think that might be the one,” Drusilla said, holding her breath as she waited for Miss Emily to agree.

After a long, agonizing moment, the girl gave a slow nod. “I think so too.” She turned to look at Drusilla. “Do you think I will meet my husband at the party?”

Here was where Drusilla had to tread carefully—even more carefully than when she was advising the girl on which pale gown to choose.

She gestured to the maid, who understood and began to put the gowns back in the wardrobe. Once a few of the chairs were clear, she sat and beckoned for Miss Emily to take the seat opposite.

“I think,” she began, “that you will meet who you are supposed to meet.”

Miss Emily frowned. “What does that mean?”

I’m not sure myself. “I think that if you do wish to get married,” Drusilla said slowly, “as you originally thought, that there is a very likely chance you will meet someone who will offer marriage.” After all, a large fortune and Miss Emily’s appearance would make her irresistible to many of this Season’s eligible bachelors.

“But I want you to consider whether that is what you want.”

“Now you’re sounding like my uncle.”

“Without the accent,” Drusilla replied, making Miss Emily smile.

“I know that your uncle and I might seem as though we are discouraging your happiness, but it’s the contrary—we both want you to have a long and happy life, and decisions like marriage should not be made hastily.

” She paused. “It should take a lot longer to decide who to marry than it takes to decide what gown to wear on a special evening.”

Miss Emily looked thoughtful, and Drusilla felt a pang of hope. If she could persuade this charming girl to wait, just for a bit, it would save her so much heartache.

At least, that was what Drusilla’s cynical mind believed.

“I have wanted a family for so long,” Miss Emily said, and Drusilla could hear the yearning in her voice.

“I have wanted to belong, to have people of my own.” She bit her lip, and Drusilla ached for her—losing her parents so tragically, then being sent to the country with her grandmother, meaning within a short period of time she’d lost everything she knew.

And now she had her “Scottish oaf” of an uncle, who loved her but who couldn’t possibly understand her.

“But,” Miss Emily continued, her tone normalizing, “here I’ve found friends.” She met Drusilla’s gaze. “Family, even.” There was hope in the girl’s eyes, and Drusilla couldn’t help but respond, wrapping her arms around Miss Emily and squeezing her in a warm hug.

“You are family, dear,” she murmured.

“So I would be happy if I fell in love at first sight at my party,” Miss Emily continued, her words muffled, “but I also know I would be content to learn your work and be here for a while.” She drew back. “If you’ll have me.”

Drusilla bit back her immediate enthusiastic reply. “We have to speak with your uncle, since he is your guardian.”

“Yes, of course,” Miss Emily said, but she didn’t look concerned.

“Well,” Drusilla said, blinking back unexpected tears, “shall we continue? We’ve decided on the gown. Now we need to decide on the accessories.”