Page 65 of Never a Bride
“Yes, I guess so. Now that you grasp the idea, let us go back inside.”
“Wait, my lady, I’m not sure what else I can teach him. What about…this?”
He caught her arms and drew her forward to where he leaned on the balustrade. Her full skirts pressed into his legs, and with just a little more pressure, he would feel her hips against his. But there was time for that yet. He leaned down toward her, hearing the catch in her breathing, feeling her hands clutch the fabric covering his chest. Her lips glistened, and it was only through sheer willpower that he turned his head and pressed his mouth to her neck. God, he wanted her, needed her in his bed, and his frustrated desire was maddening.
Her gasp sounded loud in his ear. “Surely this is going too far,” she whispered.
He trailed his lips to the edge of the ruff at her throat, then back up. His tongue traced the shell of her ear and she shivered. “But ’tis effective, is it not?”
“But…but it’s not what a gentleman would do,” she answered breathlessly.
“But it’s what a man would do.” He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes, feeling her breath against his mouth, wanting desperately to kiss her. “Very well, so that’s not what I’m supposed to teach him. What do you wish of me?”
Her eyes were dazed, and he could almost see her try to rally her thoughts. He wanted to gloat in triumph, to tell her that Willoughby would never make her feel this way. But he would bide his time.
“You’re supposed to teach him what to say to a lady,” she finally answered, her gaze on his mouth, “how to amuse her.”
“Ah. I know quite well how to amuse a lady.”
He waited, allowing her imagination to expand on his words.
Chapter 19
Whatever Emmeline imagined made her suddenly push Alex away. There would be no kiss this night, no temptation of her body pressed to his. He was aroused enough that he almost took it from her anyway.
“Alex, this is not amusing. I have requested a favor. Will you help me?”
He hesitated just enough to make her nervous. “I shall help you—but only because you’ve asked me so nicely. When shall we begin? Shall I talk to Willoughby tonight?”
“Oh, no, I haven’t even asked him yet.”
“He doesn’t know you’ve come to me for help?”
“I could hardly put such a thought in his mind, and then have you refuse us.”
He hated the way she said “us.” “Very well, let me know what the two of you decide.”
She nodded and slowly backed away.
He forced himself to grin. “You’d better watch what you’re doing Em, before you trip.”
With a little side step, she just missed a bench, but still she didn’t look away from him, as if she were afraid he’d chase her. He stared after her until he finally saw her illuminated by the torches near the palace. Then she slipped inside, leaving him to decide how best to work this to his advantage.
~oOo~
Emmeline knew that persuading Maxwell Willoughby to accept help would be almost as difficult as persuading Alex to help. She sent a missive to Maxwell, asking him to come see her on a day when Blythe was out visiting friends. When she finally had him alone, she explained her idea, and though he was mildly offended, he did not summarily dismiss her plan. He admitted that he rather admired Alex’s easy ability with women.
So it was settled. Her father left for Kent, and it was almost too simple to persuade Blythe to accompany him to visit friends back home. Except for the servants, Emmeline had the mansion to herself. She immediately issued invitations to both Alex and Maxwell for dinner the following day, a Friday.
Alex was early by half an hour. Emmeline was informed of his arrival while in the kitchen overseeing preparations for their meal. The steward beamed as he delivered the news, then disappeared back into the front of the mansion. Bless him, he was always assuming there was still a man out there for her.
Well, Alex would just have to wait. She was not about to have her plans turned inside out because of him. She didn’t want to make small talk, all the while remembering the things they’d done together. Just as she was about to escape up to her chamber by the back staircase, Alex appeared in the kitchen door.
“Lady Emmeline?” he called.
The maids all let out giggling gasps, while Mr. Horatio, the cook, glowered at them. But even he, ever one in control of his domain, had an encouraging smile for her.
“You see to your guests, my lady,” Mr. Horatio said, ushering her forward, ignoring the fact that she was quite unwilling.
