To Catch a Countess (12 page)

“What worries you?” he asked, feeling her trembling.

“It.”

Alexander wanted to laugh. Instead, he kissed her and said in a soothing voice, “I promise it is nothing to worry about. It is part of me, not a monster intent on hurting you. You trust me, don’t you?”

Victoria opened her eyes. “Yes, Alex, I trust you.”

Alexander knelt between her legs but made no move to enter her body. He lifted her hands and kissed them, then turned them over and kissed her palms.

Bending over her, Alexander kissed and licked her breasts. His tongue swirled around one alabaster globe, coming closer and closer to its center.

When he touched its pink tip with his tongue, it hardened and rose into arousal. Victoria whimpered, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

Alexander flicked his tongue back and forth, finally drawing her nipple between his lips, pulling, nipping, sucking. Releasing it, he blew on its wet tip.

Dazed with desire, Victoria whispered, “Don’t stop . . . please.”

In answer, Alexander sucked hard upon one nipple while his thumb and forefinger teased her other nipple. He kissed a burning trail from her breasts to her stomach and then buried his face in the fiery red curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Inhaling her intoxicating scent, Alexander started to move lower but felt her stiffen. He reached for her sensitive nipples—squeezing their tips, rolling them between his fingers, making her squirm.

“I want to savor every inch of your body,” Alexander said, his voice husky with need. “Don’t deny me. Please, Tory.”

Victoria moaned and spread her legs wider. There was no mistaking her invitation.

Alexander lowered his head and tongued the folds of flesh between her legs. She opened for him, surrendering her most intimate self, allowing him access to the center of her pleasure.

When he tongued her swollen nub, Victoria arched her body, pressing herself against him. She cried out as pleasure surged through her.

After the last spasm shook her body, Alexander slid his hand down her body to the spot where his tongue had been. Lower, his hand drifted, and then Victoria felt a burning sensation as he pushed one long finger inside her quivering body.

Deeper and deeper, Alexander pushed his finger until he reached her virgin’s barrier. He caressed her wet, silken interior and then inserted a second finger.

Victoria felt vulnerable, helpless to his desire. She never imagined this feeling of being filled. When he slipped his fingers out, she felt empty and moaned in disappointment.

“Another moment, Tory,” Alexander soothed her, positioning himself between her thighs, sliding a pillow beneath her bottom to raise it. “Another moment and you will be mine. Completely. Forever. You want that, darling. Open your eyes and tell me you want me.”

Victoria opened her eyes, glazed with desire. She could feel the wet head of his manhood poised to pierce.

“I want you,” she said. “I want you deep in—”

Alexander thrust forward. She whimpered when he broke through her maidenhead and slid to the mouth of her womb.

Victoria felt vulnerable again, completely at his mercy, possessed. She hadn’t known it would be like this, had never imagined in her daydreaming—

Alexander moved, slowly at first, and then increased his tempo. Victoria caught his rhythm and moved with him. He thrust deeper and deeper, pulling back and then thrusting to the hilt, their groins touching.

“Alex,” she cried, spasms shaking her body.

Alexander groaned and shuddered, his seed flooding her. Wrapping her arms around him, Victoria felt him giving himself to her and knew that, in this moment, he was as vulnerable as she. Love for him swelled in her heart.

Recovering first, Alexander rolled off her and pulled her with him. He wrapped her within the circle of his embrace.

She snuggled against him. “Alex?”

“I am not sorry we didn’t wait,” he told her, hearing the question in her voice.

“Will we do this on our wedding night?”

Alexander laughed out loud. ‘‘We can do this whenever you want.”

“Today?”

“Well, sweetheart, I need a few minutes to regain my strength.”

“Why did you want to wait?” she asked.

“Charles Emerson is not my father,” Alexander told her. “I don’t know who sired me. I suppose I am being overly sensitive about observing society’s proprieties.”

Victoria looked as confused as she felt. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t want the gossip mongers fueled by your giving birth early,” Alexander said. “Three weeks doesn’t signify, though.”

Silence reigned in the chamber for several minutes.

“Tory, if you ever need money, you have a bright future on stage at Drury Lane.”

Victoria realized he knew her swoon had been feigned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You owe me one pound,” Alexander said, ignoring her denial. “Tinker and I wagered on your staying and praying at church. I lost.”

“I don’t own any money,” Victoria said, looking up at him with a pert smile on her face.

“People do not own money,” Alexander said. “I will need to take the proverbial pound of flesh.”

“Proverbial pound—What is that?”

“I will accept payment with your delicious body,” he told her.

Victoria gave him a flirtatious smile. “You won’t get much for a pound.”

Faster than she could blink an eye, Alexander had rolled her onto her back and loomed over her. He dipped his head, his mouth claiming hers. This time Alexander didn’t need to coax her. Victoria met him kiss for kiss, caress for caress, stroke for stroke.

*    *    *

Someone knocked on the door, startling them. “Victoria?” her aunt called.

Victoria leaped out of bed and shrugged into her robe. She tossed Alexander’s clothing behind the privacy screen. Then she unlocked and opened the door a crack.

Victoria yawned for effect. “Yes, Aunt Roxie?”

“Why is your door locked?”

“I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Sorry, darling. Are you feeling better?”

“I’ve recovered enough to bid Alex farewell when he leaves,” Victoria answered.

“Speaking of Alexander . . .” The duchess gave her a feline smile. “Where is the earl?”

“He offered to brew me a cup of tea,” Victoria hedged.

“How kind of him.”

Victoria forced a smile. “Yes, Alexander is the soul of kindness.”

“Return to bed and wait for your tea,” the duchess said. “We wouldn’t want you relapsing.” At that, she quit the chamber.

Two hours later, Victoria stood with Alexander in the courtyard. She glanced at her betrothal ring, sparkling in the sunshine, and then looked at him.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Thank you, love.” Alexander lifted her hands to his lips and then leaned close to kiss her. “Be ready for the opera, Thursday at seven.”

Victoria watched until his coach vanished from sight. She turned toward the mansion and stopped short. Her brothers-in-law stood there, their grins boding ill for her.

“Excuse me.” Victoria lifted her nose into the air as she passed them.

“We know what Alex and you were doing,” Rudolf teased her.

Victoria ignored him. Realizing she would never win, Victoria hurried inside, but the sounds of their laughter chased her up the stairs.

Chapter 6

“I am desperate to learn,” Victoria pleaded.

Standing in the front room of the small house on Oxford Street near Soho Square, Victoria looked at Phineas and Barnaby Philbin, who tutored her sisters’ children. Slightly overweight, Phineas appeared to be in his early forties; slightly underweight, Barnaby appeared to be in his late thirties. Both men were short of stature with nondescript brown hair and eyes, but kindness shone in their expressions.

“If you can teach my nephews and nieces to read, you can teach me,” Victoria said, desperation tingeing her voice.

“What is wrong, Lady Victoria?” Phineas asked.

“My letters and numbers misbehave,” Victoria answered, making the two brothers smile. “My b’s look like d’s and the sixes look like nines.”

“Would you be amenable to taking lessons with the children?” Barnaby asked.

“That would be too embarrassing,” Victoria told him. “The Earl of Winchester and I will soon be married, and I will live in Grosvenor Square.”

“Accept our best wishes,” Phineas said. “The earl is a lucky man to have won your hand in marriage.”

Victoria smiled, pleased with his compliment. “I thank you, sir.”

“Shall we give you lessons at Grosvenor Square?” Barnaby asked.

“I prefer to take my lessons here,” Victoria answered. “I want to improve before I tell the earl about my stupidity.”

“Your having lessons here would be improper,” Phineas told her.

“I can see no impropriety if both of us are present,” Barnaby amended, seeing her disappointed expression.

Phineas nodded agreement with his brother. “Thursday afternoon is the only time during the week when we are free together.”

“Thursday is perfect,” Victoria said, with a relieved smile. “I will pay for the lessons even when I am required elsewhere on a Thursday.”

“That is most generous, my lady,” Barnaby said.

Phineas walked to the desk near the window and reached for parchment and ink. He wrote a few words, sanded the paper, and turned around. “Sit here, Lady Victoria, and read what I have written,” he said. “We need to test your current ability.”

Victoria sat at the desk where she could see by the light streaming through the window. She took the parchment and stared at it. Moving her lips silently, Victoria tried to sound out the words in her mind before she spoke. Then she set the parchment flat on the desk and leaned close. With one finger pointed at the words, Victoria read haltingly as if each syllable was a separate word.

“At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing bog saw in the bark dog.”

Victoria lifted her gaze to the two brothers. Hope and determination shone at them from the depths of her blue eyes.

Both men smiled and then turned their backs to stroll across the chamber to confer in private. Watching, Victoria willed them to accept her as a student. What would she do if they refused her? Where could she go? How could she explain her stupidity to Alexander? The Philbin brothers were her only hope.

Phineas and Barnaby spoke in low voices but seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. Victoria knew that was not a good sign. Abruptly, the brothers walked back to the desk.

“Lady Victoria, you are not stupid,” Phineas told her.

“I’m not?”

Barnaby shook his head. “You suffer from word blindness.”

“Certain letters and numbers become jumbled inside your mind,” Phineas explained.

“I told you that a few minutes ago,” Victoria said, wondering if they could be as stupid as she.

“There is no cure for word blindness,” Barnaby told her. “At least, we have never known anyone who has been cured.”

Victoria closed her eyes against the disappointment, frustration, and anguish. Her bottom lip quivered, but she managed to swallow a sob of failure.

Victoria knew she couldn’t marry Alexander now and would need to tell him about her hopeless condition. Alexander hadn’t sought her out or wanted to marry her. Aunt Roxie had proposed the match, and Alexander had accepted in order to make amends for what Charles Emerson had done to her father. How could she marry a man who didn’t love her and had no idea that he was trapping himself into a marriage with a stupid woman?

“My brother and I do know certain strategies that can help you read simple sentences,” Phineas said.

Victoria brightened at that. “Can you teach me enough to read bedtime stories to my children and the
Times
gossip column?” she asked, making them smile.

“We can teach you how to live with this impediment,” Barnaby told her. “You know, my lady, gentlemen like the earl want a wife who doesn’t think too much. Society gentlemen want to know more than their ladies.”

“All men want to think they know more than all women,” Victoria corrected him. “There is no danger in my knowing more than the earl. Alexander is highly intelligent and the smartest man I have ever met.”

“That a bride should feel such admiration for her husband is a good thing,” Phineas said. Then he warned her, “Learning won’t be easy for you.”

“I promise to be the hardest-working student ever,” Victoria said, her enthusiasm apparent. “Thank you so very much.” Then she surprised the two bachelors by giving each a kiss on the cheek, making them blush. “Shall I come here Thursday afternoon?”

Both men nodded. “We will be waiting,” Phineas said.

“Oh, I can hardly wait to learn.” Victoria turned toward the door but paused before leaving. “What did the parchment say?”

Barnaby lifted the parchment off the desk and read, “At six in the morning, the barking dog was in the dark bog.”

Victoria frowned. She hadn’t even been close. “You read beautifully,” she praised the tutor.

Victoria arrived home at tea time. Climbing the stairs to the second-floor drawing room, she wondered if her aunt had noted her absence. Victoria wanted no one to know what she was doing until her reading improved. Then, if the Philbin brothers really did help her, she would give a reading recital for the whole family. That ridiculous thought brought a smile to her lips.

“Where have you been?” Aunt Roxie rose from the settee when she walked into the room.

“I was visiting Samantha and forgot the time,” Victoria lied.

“Alexander sent a note and will be here in a couple of hours.” Aunt Roxie escorted her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to her bedchamber. “He wants you to wear blue, and I’ve selected the sapphire blue silk.”

“He’s telling me what to wear?”

“I’m certain he has a good reason for the request,” her aunt said, gesturing across the chamber. “The bath is set up behind the screen. My maid will bring you tea and then dress your hair. Don’t dally, Tory.”

Victoria left her bedchamber two hours later and walked down the corridor to the stairs. The gown’s bodice sported short melon sleeves, and a sash tied in a big bow at her back-waist. The fashionably short skirt showed her ankles and feet encased in silk stockings and sandals.