A Lady Compromised (The Ladies) (18 page)

“I did that for you,” she said. “And now it’s only fair that I should be permitted to finish what I started.” She found the second fastening on his breeches and pulled it apart as he stood, stock still, rock hard and trying not to breath as her delicate, tapered fingers worked the fastenings until his breeches hung loose and she pulled them to the floor, leaving him only in his cotton smalls, tied with a drawstring around the waist.

Obviously pleased with herself, Delia bent to kiss his belly, and ran her fingers under the waistband of his smalls. She drew the drawstring and they opened to reveal his shaft, throbbing with desire. She inhaled and drew back slightly, before Mason had scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed.

“That’s enough of your experimentation,” he rasped. Her long nightgown had tangled around her legs and he grasped the hem, lifting it up, and, scooping up her hips with his arm, drew the thin silk over her head before she could even object. Then she was in front of him on the bed: tumbled and naked, with a few auburn waves escaping from the knot on her head. She looked at him with deep, shining eyes for a moment before she lowered them in a blush.

“Don’t you like it?” she said in a barely audible whisper.

“I would die for it,” he replied. “But I cannot humiliate myself by spilling my seed into your hand before I even take you tonight.” His arms were braced on either side of her now and his knees nudged her legs apart. It was an odd feeling, being so exposed, but she nonetheless felt a thrill.

As he lowered himself onto her, she felt the firm warmness of his tightly muscled chest and the curling hair of his thighs against her own. His kisses continued, deeper and more insistent, until she felt as if she was lacking something, as if she was incomplete. She needed him to—to do something she could not seem to name. As he tore his mouth from hers and moved to caress her breasts, the cry that came from her mouth surprised them both. Her eyes were wide as they flew to his face, dark and fierce with lust as he returned her gaze. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth and as he dropped a kiss onto her belly, her hips lifted of their own accord, silently beckoning.

With a sound like a growl, Mason spread her legs further and came between them, his lips on her neck and his fingers in her hair. He entered inside her slowly, kissing and caressing and encouraging with tiny movements and she was unable to slow her pounding heart. With every motion, she met his, aching to be closer to him, pressing against his hard, sleek body with her own curves and demanding with tiny cries and a low, soft moan, that he make her his. Their bodies rocked together, learning and taking and giving to each other as she rode a gentle wave that mounted into a shattering climax as she, her hands on his back and legs wrapped around him, was caught entirely by surprise in that moment of fulfillment. His own hands had found the lush curve of her bottom and tilted her body toward his own just as his thrusts grew more insistent and she felt a burst of sensitivity and an explosion that just preceded his deep groan into her mouth as he came.

He lay sprawled on her chest, still inside her as he drew up on his elbows to gaze into her flushed face. Mason drew the hair back and kissed her again, a full, soft kiss on her mouth that sealed his devotion.

“Are you quite all right?” he asked.

“What an odd question! Why wouldn’t I be?” Lady Delia was surprised and smiled up at him, albeit awkwardly.

“Because I just made love to my future wife and I’m exceedingly pleased about it.”

“Well, future husband, I too am pleased. I will marry you.”

“You already said you would.”

“But this experience did not make me change my mind.”

“Did you think it would?” he replied, feigning horror.

“I did not know what to think, my lord,” she replied, “But I do now. And I think I shall like being married very much.”

C
hapter 26

The next morning, Delia luxuriated in the soft, pre-sunrise glow as she awoke slowly, looking over at Mason, who was still sleeping, a muscled arm thrown over his eyes. She slid slowly from the bed and splashed cold water on her face and cleaned her teeth. Thankful that Mason had helped her bathe last evening, she slipped back into bed and resolved not to wake him, though she could not help but place a tiny kiss on his shoulder.

One dark eye fluttered open and soon he had turned on his side, propped up on an elbow as his hand ran up and down her naked legs, left bare by the short cotton chemise she wore. He leaned in and kissed her lips gently.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice still gravely from sleep.

“Good morning,” she replied. “I’m afraid you must dress and escape to your own chambers before anyone sees you in here. I have not yet rung for Amelia but I doubt you consistently sleep as late as do I.”

“I had planned to sleep in my own chambers last night,” Mason said, his fingers lightly traveling down the laces on the front of her nightgown. “But someone fell asleep with her head on my chest.”

“I do apologize for all of my inconvenient habits, my lord,” she replied immediately with a grin.

“I can assure you that you are not in the least inconvenient,” Mason said, turning away from her reluctantly and reaching for his clothes. “Except if you count how I cannot sleep in your room in my own house and am forced to sneak about like a callow youth. I will not get these boots on through my own efforts. My dear lady, observe your future husband: I will walk the corridors of Durham House in my stocking feet.”

Delia laughed at his disordered appearance, more relaxed than he had looked after their sleepless night in Charles Street.

“My dear future husband, I must prevail upon you to run—before you are seen by anyone!” She sat up in bed and beckoned him for a kiss, then pushed him away. “Go. Really. Before Melville comes looking for you in here.”

He kissed her again, then left, with a backward glance of longing that twisted her stomach—she could not but wish her beautiful betrothed would stay with her--but as she lay back in bed, she had much to contemplate. They would need a way to
repair her reputation, though she, unlike the Marquess, had little idea of how much it had been damaged. They would need to marry and did not have the permission of her guardian. She must arrange a wedding, though Delia felt at this point a white dress and a veil might make her feel more of a fraud than she wished. It was a rather a lot to think about for the morning after losing her virginity and Delia decided what she needed most was a bath.

She rang the bell for Amelia and resolved to write in the pretty, bright salon all day today and not to be distracted by Lady Harriet’s charming company. They could have tea together, Delia decided, but she must not succumb to an afternoon of gossip. Particularly as Lady Harriet tended to want to discuss her brother’s upcoming wedding and refused to ask, but clearly hoped, that Lady Delia would ask her to be a bridesmaid. Since Lady Delia did not know if she would even be having a proper ceremony—or who would give her away—she could not even begin to address Lady Harriet’s subtly expressed ambition.

When Amelia arrived with hot water, she relaxed in the copper tub, soaking her weary muscles and easing the soreness she could not have guessed she could feel before last night. The memory brought a blush to her cheek and for the first time she wished she had a bit more privacy than the constant attentions of a ladies’ maid permitted. Perhaps after she was married and the Marquess was supposed to be found most mornings in her bedchamber, she would feel less embarrassment. She wondered why no romantic novels were written about ladies who were already married…and wondered what to expect.

“Amelia, just the lavender tea-dress today, I think. I must spend the day entirely fixated upon finishing my novel. I think I ca
n finally complete it this week if I am diligent at my work. Since the deadline is fast approaching, I absolutely must be ready to deliver the manuscript by Tuesday.”

“My lady, that is excellent news indeed! I do believe that this work will be an even greater success than your last one. I mean, my lady, you are a professional now!”

“I’m afraid you flatter me, but I do hope you are correct, Amelia.”

As she dressed, she looked in her wardrobe and sighed with dissatisfaction. She noticed she had no clothing that was appropriate for a
lady of her age, particularly one about to married. Every gown she had was from before her father’s illness: girlish frocks made for debutantes with lace and frills and in varying shades of white. She had no time or interest in ordering new ones in the years of the Earl’s sickness and after he had died, she had cared so little for clothes that she was only able to ensure that she wore a gown that was black. Her later acquisitions of mourning colors had occasioned even less consideration.

“Amelia,” she asked, gazing at the racks of gowns, “would you be so kind as to inquire of Melville where I might order some new gowns? I’m afraid I have little that is appropriate now that I am out of mourning and nothing that is not terribly dated.”

“Of course, my lady. I will inquire immediately.” 

Delia knew that Melville would be better able to advise her than anyone else she could
think of and since she was to be married soon, she would at the very least need to order a wedding-gown. The thought of a few new gowns pleased her and she proceeded with a smile down to the sitting-room, prepared for a long day with her paper and fountain pen.

Chapter 27

Lord Durham received a message from Mr. Jarndyce as he sat alone at the breakfast table the next morning. It was a brief note, requesting an audience at his lordship’s earliest convenience. Given that Mr. Jarndyce offered to visit Durham House, he quickly dispatched a reply indicating that he would be at home that afternoon to await his solicitor’s call. He decided the approach to rehabilitating his new fiancé’s reputation was to first announce their engagement in
The Gazette.
After that proper precedent, he would put it about that Mr. Rosewood had spread the vile rumor about the two of them to prevent the marriage due to his mercenary desire to marry the heiress himself. The Marquess planned to note that his original denials of the rumor were unconvincing because he considered the gossip vile and beneath him. Given the lady’s unimpeachable reputation, he simply refused to consider that anyone would believe it.

To further the propriety of their relationship,
Lord Durham additionally intended to prevail upon his friend, Lady Burke, to throw a ball in honor of their engagement, and to install Delia in her townhouse until the wedding could occur. Lady Burke would persuade anyone who cared to ask that she had herself gone to Washburn Court to rescue Lady Delia from her guardian’s clutches and would host her until she became Marchioness. The ball should be adequate to introduce Lady Delia to society and prepare the
ton
to accept her as his wife, gossip and guardians be damned.

On his way to call upon Lady Burke,
the Marquess stopped by a flower merchant in Bond Street and selected a sweet bouquet of tulips in a flagrant attempt to win Lady Burke’s approval for his scheme. As his curricle drew up before Lady Burke’s townhouse, he knew that this was his last chance to change his mind—that as soon as he discussed his scheme with the lady—not only would his marriage be inevitable as Lady Burke would not permit a breach—but that it would be public.

As the butler showed him to see Lady Burke in her fashionably appointed drawing room, he noted that there was already a fire and that tea things were wheeled into the room. He was, again, pleased. This interview with Lady Burke would not be a quick one and it would be better for her to be comfortable for their tete-a-tete, which was certain to be longer than the strictly correct thirty minutes of a social call. Lady Burke’s butler announced his mi
stress as the door opened and she entered the room in a whirling cloud of perfume, with a tiny lace cap and exquisite silk shawl of dove-grey.

“Durham! Lovely to see you, of course,” Lady Burke received him with graciousness and reclined in a soft velvet upholstered divan while she poured tea. “Whatever is so urgent that you demanded I rise and dress at such an unfashionable hour?”

“My dear Lady Burke, only the most immediate of concerns could induce me to make such demands upon your person, I assure you.”

“You have piqued my curiosity, dear Durham.” Lady Burke smiled at him above her teacup and tipped her head back. “That will be all, Richmond,” she said to the butler, and he withdrew.

“I must confess that aside from revealing some rather personal information, I must also beg your assistance, Lady Burke.”

“I hardly need say that of course I am happy to do whatever is in my power
to increase your own happiness.”

“In that I am so pleased. But
it is not only my own happiness that I seek to ensure. It is another’s—a young lady. And I wish that young lady to be my wife.”

Lady Burke gasped in surprise and put down her cup.

“You have finally decided upon a wife! I had no idea. Nor, do I believe, does anyone else in society! However did you manage it?”

“It is a very odd story and one we have discussed previously. I must ask for your assistance and discretion if I reveal to you what I think I must.”

“My curiosity, while piqued before, is now positively raging, Mason! Do continue!”

“You recall, I believe, the brief conversation we had regarding Lady Delia Ellsworth, outside the bookshop in Bond Street late in the summer?” Her ladyship immediately guessed the truth with an incredulity that did service to the Marquess’ previous, extremely firm, denials.

“You are not engaged to Lady Delia! Mason, I am so shocked! You hid it well that day!”

“I wish to be engaged to Lady Delia and she has agreed. But there is th
e complication of her guardian who wishes to marry her himself, which is why he spread that vile rumor, as I’m sure you are aware. Rosewood tried to force himself upon Lady Delia, at which point she fled to London, where she has been in hiding for some months.”

“You cannot expect me to believe that a delicately brought up young lady such as Delia Ellsworth has been in London since August without anyone finding out?”

“Indeed she has. She fled Washburn Court with her maid and took a small house in Charles Street under the nom de guerre of a young widow, a Mrs. Mannering. She then proceeded to
publish
a
novel
under the name “D.E. Mannering,” which of course, you may have heard had taken the
ton
by storm—“

“
Annabelle’s Adventures
!” gasped Lady Burke.

“Indeed. She supported herself by writing that novel and is currently writing another.”

“It hardly seems credible that the young lady is so resourceful. Young ladies today seem hardly able to keep appointments with their
modistes
, if I am to judge by my own, sweetest, offspring. But I do believe that the Lady Delia was always quite intelligent. Where is the girl now?”

“At my townhouse.”

“What! Surely, you jest.”

“I speak the truth, my lady. And as you can see, this cannot continue. However, when I discovered her identity, I prevailed upon her to stay with me, as a young
lady alone in Charles Street…Even if her guardian did not eventually discover her whereabouts, young women cannot live alone in the city. She had already made the acquaintance of the Earl of Blackwell’s cousin, Freddy Whitmore, who fell instantly in love with her, if his effusive compliments were to believed. It was only a matter of time before something ghastly occurred.”

“Indeed, but Durham, she cannot remain at Durham House.”

“Quite. Which is why I wish her to come here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. I wish you to put about that you traveled to Washburn Court after your two letters to Lady Delia went unanswered. I wish for you to unequivocally state that you brought her back to London after finding her a virtual prisoner at the hands of her guardian. I also wish you to send an announcement to the
Gazette
of our engagement, with my signature, so that the whole thing looks very proper. You bring her here, we are engaged, and then I want you to host a ball in celebration of our engagement, so that she might meet everyone she ought and the
ton
will be forced to come to her. Between the two of us, I cannot suppose that anyone will still believe idle gossip spread by a nobody, particularly when the relevant parties are engaged. I should like this gossip to end immediately.”

“And you think if I make it known that I took her from Washburn and you two are engaged, people will simply forget the nasty story from the summer?”

“I do. They would prefer to be on good terms with my wife than to believe a scurrilous story spread by the Smythe-Dunstons, and Rosewood will be exposed as a criminal soon, if my solicitor has anything to say about it. People will have to choose which is more likely: that Lady Delia’s guardian tried to smear her for mercenary reasons
or
that she is a trollope but you are standing behind her and I am marrying her. It seems clear which story has more credence.”

“I can hardly disagree, Durham, but it will not be easy. The announcement of your engagement will create quite an uproar given the number of ambitious mamas who had hoped for you as their son-in-law.”

“Be that as it may, I cannot see a better option.”

“True. And if the girl is seen here, in my house, coming and going as if she had only just arrived in London, it might do a bit to rehabilitate her. I will not let her out of the house until the story is
well circulated. I will not have her insulted.”

“For that, as in all your efforts on my behalf, Lady Burke, I am truly grateful.”
Then Lord Durham continued
,
“Now, might we draft the announcement for the
Gazette
and get it off today? I would prefer the public to receive the first notice from the paper, as opposed to one of us. It makes it seem more credible, don’t you think?”

“I’m afraid I do not know, Durham, which is more credible. But I am willing to do as you ask, as well as anything in my power, to make this marriage happen and happen with the blessing of the
ton.
Which means of course, I have an absurd amount of work to do if I am to throw a ball to introduce the young lady to society. Should it be scheduled soon?”

“As soon as possible. I do not wish to give people the chance to weigh whether they ought to accept her. I want you to go round to every
hostess personally and prevail upon them to accept Lady Delia as my bride, if you must. I realize what I am asking but your friendship to her mother and your previous distress at Mr. Rosewood’s gossip led me to believe you are willing.”

“My dear sir, I am in fact quite willing, though I confess hosting a young lady and throwing her a ball, in the same season as I introduced my own child...Good Heavens. There is an enormous amount to be done. I shall fix the date for Thursday of next week. That gives us twelve days. The invitations will be sent immediately. You will owe me after this, my dear Marquess,” the
lady said with an eyebrow raised.

“I will be perpetually in your debt. Of
that I have no doubt. I will return home and arrange for Lady Delia’s things to be brought here and the lady herself to come tonight when it is dark and in an unmarked carriage. Let us hope that no one sees her.”

“Quite so. I’m sure it will be no matter. She can be brought in through the garden.”

“I am, as always and indefinitely, your servant,” said Mason, bowing.

He left, pleased that Lady Burke had been so enthusiastically in favor of the scheme, and only hoped that his
fiancé would prove to be so amenable.