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Authors: Just One of Those Flings

Candice Hern (21 page)

BOOK: Candice Hern
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"Stop it," she said. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, giving lie to her words. "This is too dangerous."

"I miss you. It's been two nights."

"I know. But I cannot feign another illness. We'll have to think of something else."

"But soon."

She looked at him at last, and the smoldering fire in her blue eyes sent a blast of heat through his vitals. "Yes, soon. I cannot wait, either."

 

* * *

 

 

She did not have to wait as long as she'd expected. Serendipity, which Gabriel often claimed had so far ruled their relationship, took matters in hand the very next day.

Beatrice was out alone, running a few errands and enjoying an afternoon without three young girls underfoot. Emily was spending the day shopping with Sarah Billingsley and a few other friends, and Miss Trumbull had taken her charges on an excursion to Polito's Menagerie, where Charlotte was determined to get a close look at an elephant.

Beatrice entered a watchmaker's shop in Aldersgate and almost ran smack into a very familiar chest. "Gab— that is, Lord Thayne. What a pleasant surprise."

And it was. She had developed such a voracious appetite for the man that to see him at all was a pleasure. But to see him at last in a more casual setting, without the eyes of all the world upon them, was a pure delight.

He beamed a smile at her. "Lady Somerfield. A very pleasant surprise indeed." He looked behind her and said, "And without your charges in tow."

"It is probably very bad of me to say so, but I am grateful for an afternoon without them. Three energetic girls can be exhausting. Emily is shopping for bonnets with her friends, and my girls have gone to have a look at an elephant."

"An elephant?"

"It is all your fault, you know, and Mr. Burnett's, for filling Charlotte's head with tales of India. There is said to be an elephant at Polito's, along with lions and tigers and other exotic creatures to thrill my daughter."

Gabriel smiled. "I trust Lady Charlotte will be suitably impressed."

"And I trust that she will soon tire of elephants. Then perhaps she will stop spinning tales of how she will go adventuring in India and Africa when she's old enough."

Gabriel laughed. "A girl after my own heart. I was about her age or even younger when I started pestering the duke with pleas for adventure. He finally gave in, after I'd finished at university."

"It is not the same for girls."

"No, of course not. But what brings you here? A new clock, perhaps? I have just ordered a longcase for the entry hall in my new house. It's a beauty, with a revolving moon phase above the dial."

"It sounds wonderful. But I am here on a more modest errand. My favorite watch had been running slow and I brought it in last week for Mr. Gray to clean and reset. I am here to pick it up."

Gabriel did not leave, but followed her into the shop and waited, chatting quietly with a shop assistant while she conducted her business with the watchmaker. He then took her into the adjacent showroom where clocks of all kinds were on display — shelf clocks, longcase clocks, lantern clocks, figural mantel clocks, as well as barometers and chronometers and other instruments — and pointed out the clock he had ordered. It was enormous, with the clock face a good foot above her head.

"It's very handsome," Beatrice said, "and very ... large. But it suits you, Gabriel."

He laughed. "I will take that as a compliment. But it needs to be large. I want it for the entry hall in my new town house, which has soaring ceilings. I did not want a clock that would be dwarfed in such a space. Would you like to see it? The house, I mean. If you have no other pressing plans for the afternoon."

To spend an afternoon alone with Gabriel would be better than wonderful. "I would like very much to see your new house."

His face lit up like a boy's. "Excellent. You are certain you have no other plans? You must know how much I would enjoy spending the afternoon with you, but if you have something more important ..."

Beatrice was always enchanted when Thayne's latent boyish nature overcame his more formidable bred-from-the-cradle lordliness. He could skewer a person with a single arrogant lift of his brow, but in private he let down his reserve and allowed the charming young man to take over. And very occasionally, as now, he let slip the merest hint of vulnerability. He wanted to show off his new home to her, but also wanted her approval of it.

"I have no plans that cannot wait for another day," she said. "I had thought to visit my solicitor to discuss a few matters of business, a bit of investment strategy, but I would much prefer to see your new home."

"Investment strategy? Your solicitor manages your funds for you?"

Beatrice smiled ruefully. Everyone always assumed a woman could not possibly understand such things. "No, I manage my own funds. But he acts as my agent. I tell him what to buy and when to buy it. Or when to sell it. As it happens, I wish him to sell a portion of my bank stocks and use the proceeds to increase the investment in one of my mining stocks."

The look of complete astonishment on Gabriel's face made her laugh. "Do not be so shocked, my lord. Some women
do
manage their own money, you know."

"Yes, I know they do. I just never met a woman who actually cared about bank stocks or mining stocks."

"Well, now you have. Believe it or not, I actually find it all very interesting. And, if I may be allowed to boast a bit, I am quite good at it."

He smiled. "Are you indeed?"

"I am. I have always had a head for finances. One of the things I love about being a widow is that for once I can actually make my own decisions, investing where and when I choose. It is what I have always wanted." She paused and frowned. "I am sorry. That was badly said. I do not mean to imply that I wished poor Somerfield dead so I could play on the Exchange. I only meant that being his widow has provided me with an amount of freedom I never had as his wife. Freedom to manage my own money, for example." She smiled again. "And to be with you, of course."

"You are a remarkable woman," he said. "The head of a businessman and the body of a goddess. What a potent combination. Perhaps I should consult you on my own investments." He grinned, and she knew he was only joking, patronizing her. Like Somerfield, he would be unlikely to trust a woman's judgment on financial matters.

"I can offer a few bits of advice, if you like," she said. "Beeralstone Lead and Silver Mines. And Holloway Waterworks. Look into them both."

His brows lifted in surprise. "I shall have my man of affairs do so. In the meantime, shall we have a look at my house?"

"Yes, please."

"I warn you, though, that it is rather a mess. There is still a lot of work to be done. You might find plaster dust raining down on your head and drop cloths tangled at your feet. Did you come in your own carriage?"

"No, I took a hackney."

"Then I shall take you up in mine."

Beatrice frowned. "Do you think that is wise? We might be seen."

"You worry too much, Beatrice. I doubt anyone here in Aldersgate will pay us the least mind. And when we reach Cavendish Square we'll dash inside before any nosy neighbor or passerby can see us. Besides, that bonnet of yours will hide your face if you keep your head down."

They left the showroom and Gabriel was approached by the shop assistant, who handed him a small package. Gabriel thanked him and slipped it in his pocket, then led Beatrice outside. His carriage, which she ought to have noticed before, stood across the broad thoroughfare. Gabriel signaled to his coachman, who nodded and touched his hat brim. A liveried groom had been minding the horses and he leapt up on the back of the carriage as it pulled away. The coachman waited for traffic to thin, then turned the carriage around and drove it to where they stood in front of Mr. Gray's establishment.

Once inside the coach, and bouncing along through the crowded streets, Gabriel took her hand, removed her glove, and kissed the tips of her fingers. "An entire afternoon with you, Artemis. The Fates smile upon us once again."

"They do indeed." Oh, the bliss of making love to him again. How had she ever thought to survive without physical passion? "But we cannot go to Wilhelmina's house without warning her. She may be busy. Or have visitors."

"We do not need the duchess's hospitality today. We have my house. If you can bear the clutter and noise. I am anxious for you to see it. And to see you in it. I have missed you, Artemis. You have become like a drug to me, and I fear I am quite addicted." He leaned over and kissed her softly. Then he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close against him, and said, "I have enjoyed our time together."

Beatrice's stomach gave a tiny lurch at the hint of finality in his words. Was he going to end their affair? So soon? But surely not yet. Not yet. "So have I, Gabriel. Very much."

"I want to give you something." He reached into his coat and pulled out the package from Mr. Gray's. "It is not much, but I want you to have it."

She took it from him and tried not to give in to the wave of sadness that had washed over her. She was not ready for this passionate ride to end. She had always known, of course, that it was a temporary thing. Once he became betrothed, she would not allow their affair to continue, and she had told him so many times. It would be unfair to his bride, and Beatrice would have no part in such a betrayal. But she had thought they had more time.

She opened the package to find a beautiful gold chain. It had alternating large and small links, the larger ones finely engraved in a scroll pattern.

"It is for your watch," he said.

"It is lovely. How thoughtful of you, Gabriel. Thank you."

"I would prefer to give you emeralds and sapphires, but I suspect you would not accept them from me."

"No."

"But I have wanted to give you
something
. Something to celebrate what we have together. It is not much, but you cannot reject a simple gold watch chain. No one need know it was a gift from me."

To celebrate, not terminate. Thank heaven.

"
I
will know," she said. "And I will treasure it, Gabriel. Thank you."

She kissed him, and though it started out tender and warm, it soon grew hotter. But her blasted bonnet was in the way. Gabriel untied the ribbon at her chin and removed the bonnet, placing it on the opposite bench with his own hat. He took her in his arms again and set about ravishing her mouth. The bouncing rhythm of the carriage served to increase their passion, until Gabriel pulled away with a groan. He took her hand and placed it on his crotch.

"You see what you do to me, Beatrice?"

She traced the outline of his erection with her fingers, and he groaned louder. She quite literally held him in the palm of her hand. He was completely under her control. She could do anything, and was all at once giddy with her own power.

She deftly unbuttoned the fall of his breeches and felt his body tense.

"Beatrice?"

"Hush. Let me please you."

She reached inside the open flap of his breeches and pulled at his smallclothes until his erection sprang free. She ran her fingers up and down its velvety smoothness, and he threw his head back and clenched his teeth. A tiny bead of moisture escaped from the tip of his cock as she brushed it with her fingers. She bent and licked it off with her tongue. He gave a sort of growling moan, and shouted aloud when she took him completely into her mouth.

Gabriel arched against her, thrusting his hips up and down with the rhythm of the carriage, his breath ragged and loud. She delighted in the pleasure he took from her, and she gave it gladly, enthusiastically, basking in the wonder that they could share their bodies so freely with each other. She felt his climax coming as he rocked faster and thrust deeper. Suddenly, he pushed her roughly away and jerked a silk handkerchief from his coat.

Beatrice held him as he groaned and spilled his seed into the white silk.

CHAPTER 12

 

 

"This is where the new clock will stand," Thayne said, "against the wall behind the scaffolding." He was still a bit unsteady on his pins after what had taken place in the carriage. But Beatrice was as composed as ever, looking elegant and refined and not at all the sort of woman who would pleasure a man while driving through Holborn, or tell him afterward that he need not have resorted to the handkerchief. That was one of the things he liked best about her. Not only that she knew how to pleasure a man and did not shrink from doing so, but that she was so full of surprises.

She certainly was not what he'd expected, though he could not say precisely what that was. Beauty and refinement, he supposed. But there was so much more to her than that. He loved her self-possession, how she knew who she was and what she wanted from life. Once again, it might have been simply a matter of maturity. He really needed to stop comparing her with all the young women he was supposed to be courting, but he could not help himself. Any one of them — Lady Emmeline Standish, Miss Fancourt, Lady Catherine Villiers, any of them — might in time mature into the kind of woman Beatrice was. But how was he to predict such a future, and would he be willing to wait?

One thing was becoming more and more clear to him. He wanted more from Lady Somerfield than an uncomplicated affair.

"It's lovely, Gabriel." She studied every corner of the room, which was rather grand in size for an entry — not as imposing as Doncaster House, but more so than the average town house.

He smiled. "How can you possibly tell when everything is in such disarray?"

"Oh, it's easy enough to see the potential of the space. I like the openness of this hall. There is so much light. It is very welcoming, while still retaining an impressive grandeur."

"I like open spaces," he said. "I had two walls torn down — here and here. It was too dark and small before. This way, we take advantage of the windows, which were doing little good in the smaller anterooms. You will see that throughout the house I have had several walls torn down and rooms combined. I despise cramped spaces and lots of little rooms heading this way and that, like a rabbit warren. I prefer to spread out a bit. Fewer rooms, but each one more spacious. I hate to feel ..."

BOOK: Candice Hern
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