BOOK SIX: The Earl of PembrokeGillian Beaumont knew the day was bound to be full of trouble. As she worked to tame the curls of her mistress's hair, she fretted over the wicked gleam in Audrey Sheridan's eyes. Gillian was used to this mischievous glint, but today it seemed doubly intense, and the way her lips curled at the ends in a little smile added to Gillian's worry even more. The last time she had looked that way, Audrey had been chasing a rogue around a sofa, demanding to be kissed."There you are, my lady." Gillian finished putting the last pin in her mistress's hair.Audrey's brown eyes twinkled as she met Gillian's gaze in the mirror. "Perfect. I have to look my best today. The League is coming over for tea in an hour and" A delicate blush bloomed in her cheeks."And Mr. St. Laurent will be there?" "Er I suppose so," Audrey replied vaguely. Gillian was all too aware of how her mistress felt about that particular gentleman. He was a fine man with green eyes and sun-kis
James Fordyce was under a spell. It was as though some enchantress had stepped into Madame Ella's dress shop and cast a glittering web of light over him. The moment he accidentally pulled back the dressing room curtain and saw her, it was as though no other woman had ever existed before or after in his mind. He was an admitted rogue who'd done things that would make his father blush were the man still alive, yet this woman had made him feel like a lad of seventeen, giddy and gawkish as he gazed at her like a moon-eyed calf.He'd lost all rational thought when he glimpsed her bare shoulders and back. Pale creamy skin was exposed by the open gown from her neck down to just above a delightfully rounded derrière. He'd had to restrain his baser instincts to grip her hips and pull her back against him.Once he'd caught sight of those soft gray eyes, he was lost. They were as pale as morning mist covering a field of bluebells. When he gazed deep into her eyes, he had the strangest feeling h
Gillian couldn't breathe. James was reading a torrid part of a novel in public, and she was mortifiedand she didn't want him to stop. It had nothing to do with the story and everything to do with his hypnotic voice. Her heart was racing, and she could only stare at James's lips in utter fascination. So this was what it felt like to long for a manand it was indeed a longinga wicked one."Shall I continue?" he asked again, moving closer. Gillian glanced around the little bookshop. They had wandered into a dim corner as they talked where no one could see them. Her heart gave another wild set of beats as she licked her lips nervously."You shouldn't do that," he cautioned her gently as he closed the book and set it on the shelf ledge by his hip."Do what?" She tried to back up, but her bottom hit a shelf behind her."Lick your lips. It makes a man wonder how you taste, how you feel" He reached up, cupped her cheek, and stroked the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. The touch burned
James stood beside his carriage, watching Miss Beaumont walk away. As the distance between them lengthened, his heart grew heavier, he realized something had been taken from him. She had seemed so lost as she'd pulled away from him. There had been a glimmer of tears in her eyes that he didn't understand. He wanted to go after her. There was something wronghe sensed it. He would escort her home, even if she protested. Whatever was in that letter had upset her greatly, and she shouldn't have to return home alone. James told his driver to wait for Letty and take her home. He would hire a hackney once he'd seen Miss Beaumont safely to her residence.When he turned back to the street, he saw the distant figure of Gillian as she reached the end of the street. Suddenly, a man came toward her and grabbed her arm. Panic flared inside him. No gentleman would grab a lady's arm like that, and out of nowhere, no less. James frowned. Did she know the man? The intimate stance indicated that she di
London in the day was a bustling city with carriages speeding along the cobblestoned streets and women selling flowers in heavily perfumed baskets while the crowds perused the shops and paid calls on friends. But as darkness fell, shadows could play tricks on the eyes of those foolish enough to walk the streets after the sun dropped beneath the horizon.And I am one of those fools.Gillian Beaumont squinted at the nearest alley, swallowing hard and holding back a scream of fear every time she thought she saw something fluttering in the mews like a bat's wings. The coach she had taken to the Temple Bar district was already rattling away, leaving her alone. The leaves of the early fall scuttled along the ground, tangling in her skirts like brown spiders, making her jump. She gripped her gown below her knees and gave the fabric a shake, trying to loosen the dried leaves from her dark purple satin gown. Then she faced her surroundings. She stood on the street close to the Royal Courts of
As James reached the Strand, he scanned the darkened streets and buildings. Fear for Gillian built inside him like a storm catching on the winds. She was a gently bred lady who shouldn't have to face the horrors of a hellfire club, especially if they learned she was Lady Society. While he trusted she was quite capable of taking care of herself, he was afraid that she was walking into a trap and didn't know it. He had to find her before something happened to her. With luck, she wouldn't be here, and he would spend the rest of the night watching some fools pretend to throw a black mass and worship the devil. He prayed fervently it was the latter.He caught a glimpse of a man in a black cloak and a mask walking down the street. He was undoubtedly a hellfire member. The man paused, glancing about before he headed up the steps to one of the rather unremarkable buildings on the street.James flung a few coins at his driver and bolted after the figure. He caught up with him just as he was
Everything seemed to be a bit hazy. Gillian watched James explode into the dining room. He moved with a surprising swiftness and ease, as if he was quite accustomed to battling the minions of a hellfire club. Earlier that day he had shown her his sweet, irresistible, and all too seductive side, but now she saw a warrior before her.She tried to walk toward him but tripped. Her feet felt clumsy, and she looked down. She blinked past the pain in her head, and with an odd distant feeling she noticed that the beautiful purple gown she wore was torn, andwas that blood smeared on her bodice? Heavenswhose blood is that? The sound of fighting drew her attention back to the dining room, and she looked up.Her mouth fell open as she saw James grab a man and throw him over the table as he fought his way to Jonathan. Audrey stood in the corner of the dining room, a black cat in her arms and a fireplace poker in one hand. She faced a drunken lout who was stumbling toward her. Audrey wielded the p
Gillian jerked awake as something moved beside her. She froze when she realized there was a man in her bed. Not just any man. The Earl of Pembroke's large naked body lay beside her, his arm stretched around her waist, his fingers curled against her skin. His long legs were tangled with hers. A faint chill trickled over her bare upper body where the blankets had fallen down to her hips. She blinked drowsily and realized with some confusion that she wasn't even in her own bed.What in the blazes?She touched her head to brush her hair back and winced as a sharp pain blossomed around her right temple. A wild blur of memories from the previous night came back to her. The perils of the hellfire club, the fight, then the insanity of their escape, andthe intimacy she'd shared with James right here in this bed. She'd opened herself up to him, shared her body with him and he with her.She had slept with James. No, Lord Pembroke. He could never be James. She was a servant, and he was a lord.
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening's snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.The way Phillip's eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for
Ella awoke to the smell of porridge, eggs, and ham. She moved languidly, stretching her limbs, feeling sore between her thighs and a slight dampness in the sheets. Her face flushed as she sat up in bed. Phillip was seated by the fire, reading a novel. A tray of food sat on the table beside him, untouched."You should eat."He looked over his shoulder at her, his mouth quirking into a grin. "I was waiting for you. Come." He patted his lap, and the invitation was too much for her to resist. She slipped out of bed and joined him. He curled an arm around her waist as she eased down on his lap."How do you feel?" he asked, his eyes tender as he looked at her."A little sore," she admitted. "But wonderful too. I fear you've given me a taste for sin.""Have I now?" His delighted chuckle pleased her so much that her heart hurt. She loved his laugh, his smile, everything. She wanted only happiness for him because he had suffered so much."Yes, most definitely. Where did you learn such a u
Phillip woke before dawn, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. A beautiful woman lay beside him, and memories of how sweet the previous night had been made him want to burst into song like a lovestruck fool. He'd given her pleasure and she'd returned it, and it had been going so damned well until he'd fallen asleep. Yet his body didn't ache, and his leg didn't hurt as he was used to first thing in the morning. He moved slightly, expecting pain, but the usual stiffness in his thigh and lower calf and shin weren't there.He stared down at Ella's scantily clad body lying beside him. Had she truly rubbed his body last night, or had it been a sweet dream? He'd gotten so used to that, dreaming she was there to heal everything with her love and sweetness, that he didn't quite trust the reality.No, it hadn't been a dream. She had pleasured him with her mouth and almost brought him to his knees. Then she'd shown tenderness in helping him with his leg. God, the woman was exquisite
The night was full of magic. Ella couldn't stop smiling as she left the dancers and returned to the table with Bridget.Warwick poured them wine from a bottle a barmaid delivered to them. "Well done, ladies, well done."The wine was sweet on Ella's tongue and went straight to her head as she ate dinner. Phillip kept a hand on her waist, so deliciously scandalous, even though they were pretending to be married. She could have floated away without a care in the world."Well, it's getting late. I think we'll turn in," Phillip said at last. "It was a pleasure to meet you both."Bridget smiled. "As it was for us, my lord."Phillip collected his cane, and Ella slipped her arm in his as they headed for the stairs."You were stunning tonight," Phillip said as they climbed the steps together."Was I?" She couldn't resist preening a little. She rarely received compliments from men who weren't her brothers."You were most enchanting." Phillip leaned against the wall as he unlocked their d
Phillip was damned, but he couldn't stop what he was doing. She was so tender, so full of warmth and youthful excitement. Her kiss made him feel like the man he'd once been long ago. Like the man who'd danced with her in that ballroom ages ago, feeling her spin and twirl back into his arms. How she'd looked up at him when he'd kissed her beneath that starry night sky, and he'd thought in that moment they could have held the entire world between them.Now he was kissing her again, and it was different. She was not a young, teasing debutante. She was a woman now, one who'd learned disappointments and heartache and clung to happiness that much stronger whenever she found it. He wanted to make sure their time together now was everything she'd dreamed of.Her eager response to the touch of his lips or the flick of his tongue against hers brought back a flood of excitement. He'd thought he was incapable of feeling like this again, but he'd been blissfully wrong. A sweet melody echoed about
The following morning, Ella stepped out into the courtyard between the two gatehouses and blinked in surprise to find Phillip dressed and ready to leave. She'd thought perhaps after last night he wouldn't come. Yet there he was, eyes glinting with amusement at her astonishment.He looked dashing in buff trousers and an indigo waistcoat. A greatcoat hung around his shoulders, only adding to the handsome picture he presented. Beyond him a large traveling coach stood ready. Marcus and Cora were helping the driver secure several valises to the back of the coach. The morning sky was still a watery gray as the sun failed to penetrate the heavy snow clouds that had gathered above them.Phillip greeted her with a smile as she reached him. "Good morning."She smiled back, but a sudden bout of nerves made her tremble. Had she really asked him to tutor her in seduction last night? The reality of that moment was now a little daunting in the cold light of day."Come now, don't be shy," Phillip
Ella followed Mr. Boucher through the house as he escorted her to her chambers for the night. Most of the furniture was covered in cloth to protect from sunlight and dust. Many of the tall paned windows throughout the house were shuttered, effectively sealing off the rooms from light and life. This beautiful house had been emptied of people. Closed off, just like its master.They passed into one of the few more well-lit rooms, a long hall with paintings of fine-faced men and women. She glanced up at more than one of the portraits, seeing Phillip's eyes or chin, even his nose in several of the ancestors upon the walls."Mr. Boucher.""Yes, Lady Ella?""Is he in much pain?" She was perhaps indelicate to inquire about Phillip's injuries in such a way, but she needed answers.Boucher paused to look at her in the moonlight. Whatever he seemed to be looking for he must have found."Yes. In the beginning, he couldn't walk. He lay in bed for several weeks, only moving with the aid of oth
Phillip sat in the faded armchair in his study, staring into the crackling fire in the fireplace. His left leg ached, especially during the damp winter months. He rubbed his thigh, squeezing the muscles, and then farther down to his shin and calf. The muscles were still weak from the lack of use. But it hurt too much to walk, so he did so only when necessary.A sound from the hall below caught his attention. Voices. Who the devil could Boucher be talking to? They'd reduced the staff over the last year, mainly because he had shut up most of the house since he remained close to his bedchamber and never entertained. He sat up a little in his chair, listening to the sounds of a woman. The pair of maids he still employed were likely on the first floor of the house at the farthest end where the other bedchambers were or in the kitchens."Boucher?" he called out, but his voice was hoarse since he hadn't used it in what felt like days. He hadn't had occasion to see anyone or truly talk to an
One year later"If I have to listen to one more man explain to me that business and politics are not things to concern myself with," Ella growled over the rim of her teacup."It is most frustrating," her friend, Audrey St. Laurent, agreed. "I often say some men need a good whack to the heador between their legs, depending on the man."Ella snickered but then sighed as her mood deflated again."What's truly bothering you?" Audrey inquired.Ella glanced about Audrey's morning room, seeking a distraction from her mortification, but they were alone. A fire crackled in the hearth, and sunlight glinted off the snow outside. It was a perfectly lovely day, which made her black mood all the worse."At one and twenty, it seems I'm now to attract the worst sort of men. I was at Lady Hearst's ball last evening, and every single man I danced with lectured me about how fortunate I was to even be dancing at my age. To make it worse, the younger ladies have taken offense at my being there. More