Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (27 page)

She ought to stop him. Lord
Devonport’s behavior was highly inappropriate. Scandalous.
Heaven.

The hand that still held hers captive
slid up slightly, his fingers lightly brushing against her wrist
where he could feel the telling pounding of her pulse. “Should I
stop?” he asked. She couldn’t answer. She could do nothing but
feel. “I should stop. I should stop immediately.” But he didn’t. He
splayed the fingers over her breast until his entire hand enveloped
it. When he gently squeezed and then slid his palm over the silk of
her gown, her nipple hardened into a tight pebble of need and he
groaned deep in his throat.

Tabitha reached for him. She wanted to
erase the memory of Lord Oglethorpe’s vile tongue in her mouth, the
feel of his hand on her thigh, the odor of his foulness in her
nostrils, the unclean way he’d made her feel. She wanted the memory
of Lord Devonport to replace it. The rich, musky scent of his
cologne. The loving care his touch evoked. The heady taste of his
tongue, his mouth. The frantic, yearning need he kindled in her
womanly places.

She wove her fingers through the
tangled disarray of his blond waves and pulled him down to her,
eyes open the entire time. He, too, looked down at her as they came
together. When their lips met, his eyes glazed over in a silent
entreaty.

His mouth was so soft, like smooth
velvet. Just as she’d imagined them to be for so long. Just as she
remembered them to be from their first two kisses. He begged
entrance with his tongue, sliding it along the crevice of her lips
in a controlled frenzy until she couldn’t bear to deny him any
longer. When he slipped inside, he tilted his head and swallowed
the small sounds she let out. She was drunk on his wet, honeyed
heat.

And then his hands were everywhere.
Drawing over the silk bodice of her gown, tormenting her already
sensitive breasts. Sliding down her ribcage and coursing over her
hips. Cupping against her bottom, lifting her up to drape her legs
across his lap and drawing her closer to him. The evidence of his
growing erection pressed against Tabitha’s thigh, sending a flood
of dampness to amass at her center. “I should stop,” he said again,
although he did not pull away.

“
No. Don’t stop.” Tabitha
used both hands on his head to keep his mouth on hers, despite the
fact that he had not even attempted to leave her.

Leaning over until he was half lying
on top of her, Lord Devonport murmured, “Oh, God,” against her
lips. His chest pressed her down into the sofa and he brought his
hands back up her arms. With a firm tug, he slid the cap sleeves of
her gown down, freeing her breasts.

The cool air of the room came as a
shock to her heated nipples and she sucked in a gulp of air. Lord
Devonport took that opportunity to kiss a path down her throat,
over her chest, and directly to one of her breasts. When he flicked
his tongue against the taut nub, she shuddered in hedonistic
pleasure. Her enjoyment threatened to shatter her when he took most
of her breast into his steamy mouth and covered the other with his
large, powerful hand.

She wanted it never to end. She wanted
to drown in his touch. She wanted to give him the same exquisite
torture he was giving to her.

A loud indrawn breath
sounded from across the room. “Bloody hell.”
Toby
.

Bloody hell, indeed.

“
I suppose this is
settled, then.”
And Owen,
too
.

She wanted to die of
mortification.

~ * ~

This was not what he wanted to have
happen. Not really. Noah eased himself away from Tabitha, careful
to keep her hidden from her brothers’ view as he did. Sweet Christ,
she was a vision below him, pink everywhere he could see, with
swollen lips and chagrin pouring out of her eyes. “Cover yourself,”
he whispered as he turned to face his executioners, ever wary of
keeping her half-naked form from their view.

Shelton stood with his feet spread
wide, arms crossed over his chest, and daggers shooting from his
eyes.

Raynesford, on the other hand, seemed
mildly amused. “I’ll arrange for Father to speak with you tomorrow.
You can work out the details with him.”

“
Details?” Tabitha’s voice
shook behind him. “What details?”

“
Don’t feign ignorance,”
Shelton drawled. “And it is far too late for innocence.”

Raynesford quelled his brother with a
look and then returned his attention to his sister when she stood
to stand next to Noah. Properly covered. Disappointment and relief
warred within him at the sight. “The details of your marriage
contract,” Raynesford said. “You and Devonport will have to wed
now.”

“
We most certainly will
not!” Tabitha said.

Noah reached down and took her hand to
soothe her. “We will.” He kept his voice tranquil and smooth. With
an indignant huff, she snatched her hand back.

“
He had his mouth on
your—on your—” Shelton gestured madly, pointing somewhere in the
general vicinity of her chest. Noah wished he could return his
mouth to just that location. It had been pure euphoria, until the
Shelton brothers had walked in and brought him crashing headfirst
back down to earth. “You don’t have a choice, Tabitha.”

She crossed her arms over her chest,
slightly beneath her breasts, propping them up. Noah tamped down
the urge to groan. “I’m not some flighty, underage debutante. I’m a
woman old enough to know my own mind. I have a choice.”

“
Your reputation—”
Raynesford started, before she cut him off.

“
My reputation will
survive. No one knows what happened except the four of us in this
room.” She passed her gaze between the three of them. “There is no
reason for anyone else to know.”

Livingston cleared his throat at the
open double-doors, just behind where the two brothers stood. “Lord
Leith and Miss Faulkner,” he announced stiffly. Tabitha’s face
fell.

“
Well,” Leith said as he
came through the entryway, “I had no idea we were joining a
funeral.”

Miss Faulkner planted her hands firmly
on her hips. “What’s going on here? Tabby?”

“
We were just discussing
whether Tabitha’s reputation is ruined or not, after Owen and I
walked in on Devonport with his mouth on her naked breast.” Shelton
closed his eyes and shook his head, as though trying to shake the
memory free. “Care to offer your thoughts on the
subject?”

“
Oh, Tabby,” was all Miss
Faulkner could say.

Leith caught Noah’s eye with a wink.
Like he’d planned it this way. Like he should be proud of
himself.

But how could he be?

“
It doesn’t matter,”
Tabitha said in the thick silence blanketing the room. “I won’t
have him. Lord Devonport and I were both fully aware of this before
we acted. There is nothing more to be said.”

“
Why won’t you have him?”
Shelton asked.

“
I will not marry a man
who wants my money more than he wants me.”

“
If I may, Lady Tabitha,”
Leith put in, “it seems plain to me that Devonport wants you a
great deal.”

“
You’re wrong.”

Her brothers simultaneously lifted
their brows at her.

“
All of you. You’re all
wrong,” Tabitha repeated.

“
They’re not,” Noah said
softly, so only she could hear. “You know they’re right. You’ve
felt how much I want you. How much I need you. Tabitha, you have to
marry me, because I’ll go mad with need if you don’t.”

“
I suppose you’ll just
have to go mad then, won’t you?” she replied.

The minx was determined to send him to
the asylum. “Perhaps,” he murmured. “Why don’t we see what your
father has to say?”

Her murderous glare did nothing to
vanquish his raging lust.

Chapter
Fifteen

“
He’s in the library with
your father,” Jo said as she let herself into Tabitha’s bedchamber.
“I talked to him for a minute before he went in. He doesn’t seem
inclined to keep the truth—any of it—from Uncle Drake.”

“
Hmm.” Tabitha didn’t
move. She lay flopped down on her back with her arms spread out
behind her head, languidly combing through her hair and staring at
the canopy of her four-poster bed. If given the opportunity, she
might remain in precisely this position for the next millennia or
so, particularly with the curtains surrounding her drawn. Here, she
was in her own world, her own thoughts. Here, she couldn’t be
bothered by ridiculous, overbearing men thinking they could order
her to do as they wished over something as silly as a kiss. Here,
it didn’t matter if Lord Devonport told her father that she’d been
his model for a series of nude sculptures, or that she’d agreed to
become his mistress, or that she made a habit of selling her
services near Haymarket.

Tabitha remained in blissfully dreary
darkness until Jo ripped back one of the curtains and dropped to
sit beside her. “Tabby, enough of this. Talk to me.”

“
Close the curtain,
please.” Tabitha scowled up at the invasive light as her cousin did
not comply. With a huff, she pushed herself up and snapped it back
into place how she wanted it. Then she slumped back again. “What
would you have me say?”

“
Before saying anything,
I’d like you to cease acting like I am somehow at fault for
anything that has been going on.”

Tabitha nodded her agreement, giving
no thought to how her cousin might see such an action in the dim
light peeking through the curtains. She had been acting quite the
overindulged toddler around Jo of late, who had done nothing to
deserve it.

“
Excellent.” Jo pulled
back the curtain again and tied it in place so the light could come
in from the windows. “Now, what is your plan?”

“
I don’t have a
plan.”

“
Well, let’s make a plan
then. Clearly, your father will insist that you marry. Do you want
to marry Lord Devonport?”

If she was honest with
herself, Tabitha most decidedly
did
want to marry him. However, she had no intention
of doing so, no matter how much Father may wish for it. She wanted
to please him as often as she could, but Tabitha would not be the
one to go back on the pact she’d made with Jo and Bethanne so many
years before. And even if that weren’t a factor in her decision,
she wasn’t entirely convinced that Lord Devonport wanted her for
anything other than her dowry.

Yes, he claimed he wanted
her. She knew he
lusted
for her. But was lust enough? Lust was not love.
Even if lasciviousness was enough, Lord Oglethorpe had proven to
her in the park that money lust could provoke physical
lust.

“
No,” she lied. “What do
you think Father will do when I refuse? He can’t force me to marry,
not at my age.”

Jo’s eyes narrowed in thought. “True.
But he could toss you out on your ear. If he does, you’ll have to
come live with us.”

“
Uncle Thad wouldn’t let
me stay if Father has tossed me out though, would he?”

“
If he knows what is good
for him, he will,” Jo said. “But I suppose we should prepare for
that potential eventuality.”

She’d said ‘we’. “If your father won’t
let me stay, that isn’t a good enough reason for you to leave, as
well.”

“
Rubbish. We’ll go to stay
with Bethanne and Aunt Rosaline.” Jo picked at the ribbon adorning
her waist. “Aunt Rosaline, at least, will insist we can stay. And
I’m sure Bethanne would appreciate the help and
company.”

“
Yes. Right,” Tabitha
said. “Well, I suppose that is our plan then.”

“
But there is always the
possibility that Uncle Drake will refuse to allow you to stay at
Aunt Rosaline’s cottage. He does provide for her support, after
all. He could take the allowance he grants them back.”

Tabitha sat up and pulled her knees to
her chest, resting her chin upon them and locking them in place
with her arms. This was not looking good. Not at all. “If we can’t
go to the cottage, then what will we do?”

Jo took one of Tabitha’s hands. “We
could always take up a profession. I’m good with figures. I could
handle the financial aspects. And I suppose you could always sell
more of what you were giving away to Lord Devonport.”

Tears stung Tabitha’s eyes. She tried
to tug her hand back, but Jo wouldn’t let it go. “Josephine
Faulkner, I cannot believe you just said that.”

“
And I can’t believe you,
Tabitha Eleanor Shelton, are going to walk away from the best
opportunity you’ve ever had for love. I adore you, Tabby. I love
you more than I know how to handle. But you’re a great, blithering
idiot if you don’t accept Lord Devonport’s offer. And I’ll tell you
one more thing. If you don’t accept him, if you don’t give him the
opportunity to love you the way he clearly does,
I’ll
cut you off, no
matter what Uncle Drake does. I swear I’ll never speak to you
again.”

“
But our pact—”

“
Our pact was made when we
were three silly little girls with romanticized notions of our aunt
and unrealistic ideas about ourselves and who we are. No matter how
much we love Aunt Rosaline, we aren’t her. We each have to make our
own paths, Tabby.”