Page 36 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
A sweet sigh brushed against his cheek and she moved closer into his embrace until they melded into one.
He’d missed her kisses like the very devil, too. He just hadn’t let himself realise it. ‘Rose,’ he said, drawing back to look down into her face. ‘This is a bad idea.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed softly, moving not one inch and gazing at his mouth with a hunger that drove claws into his own need.
And when she lifted up on her toes to press her lips to his, he took what she offered.
* * *
To Rose, the sensation of being held remained a novel experience. Few people in her life had put their arms around her as far as she recalled. And only this man had ever embraced her with such gentle care. His touch seemed to reach into her very soul. And the way his kisses made her feel was heaven on earth.
A heaven she hadn’t known existed, or that it could be shared with another. Her body trembled and yearned and her heart seemed to want to pound itself free of her chest. She twined her arms around his neck, for support and because she wanted to touch him, too. The feel of his silky hair against her fingers was enchanting and wicked.
Pressed against his chest, her breasts felt full, heavy, sensitive, and the only thing between them was her night attire and his shirt. The heat of him through the fabric was lovely. His hands on her buttocks as he drew her close were firm yet gentle. No rough pawing and scrabbling, simply a closing of the distance between them in a way that made her melt helplessly against him, submitting to his strength.
The way he nibbled at her bottom lip sent a piercing sensation arrowing deep into her body. And when his tongue swept her mouth, hot shivers raced across her skin and between her thighs flutters and tiny pulses made her moan.
This was the delight between a man and a woman that the wardens at the Foundling Hospital had warned against. And that the girls at the V&V had whispered and giggled about. Why had she never understood?
Could anything so heart-stoppingly beautiful be evil? But this was only the beginning. The start. Against her belly, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal. The male flesh that, when joined with the female, made babies.
Something that ought only to happen between wife and husband, if those babies were not to be cast out unwanted and alone.
Before, when she’d thought he was going to ask her to be his mistress, she’d fled. Now held in his embrace, his kisses made her weak, needy and full of a longing she was not sure she had the strength to resist after all.
For long moments she let herself whirl in the maelstrom of sensations, heat, jolts of tension and tingles in nameless places. But this man was a duke who needed to marry and get himself sons. Over and over his grandmother had talked of his wedding with such wistfulness it pained Rose to hear it.
While he might enjoy dallying with her—indeed, it was clear the enjoyment was mutual—he could never marry a foundling. A bastard without a name. He would marry someone of his own class. A noble girl with noble connections.
And if she let this thing happen now, between them, he would eventually cast her off, as he had cast off many before her according to her friends at the V&V. She’d paid close attention to the gossip after their dance. She’d learned about his mistresses and what he gave them when he bid them farewell.
None of his women had ever complained about his generosity, according to the girls, and none had ever lasted more than a year. She might not be worldly, but she knew what happened to those women. Ultimately they ended up in places like the V&V, plying theirtrade.
She’d sworn she would never tread that particular road even if she was starving. Yet here she was very close to...
She broke their kiss. ‘Your Grace,’ she pleaded.
The haziness in his gaze dissipated in a flash of understanding. He straightened, his lovely blue eyes full of regret. Gently, reluctantly, he held her arms firmly in his hands, as if he sensed her weakness, and stepped back with a grave smile. ‘Choose as many books as you like. I will see you in the morning.’ He left without a backward glance.
Rose watched him leave with a heavy heart. Knowing he had more sense than she did, more control, did not help settle the unsteady beating of her heart, or the sense of loss as he left. Not in the least.
Nor the embarrassment curdling in her stomach.
By her boldness, her wantonness, she had ruined what should have been the simple offer of sympathy for a man who felt the loss of his family keenly.
Women in his class of society did not do things like comfort a man with a kiss. Nor did they wander the halls in the middle of the night dressed in their nightclothes. She had taken pride in having standards and yet she had succumbed to the first handsome man who had shown interest. She had let herself down. Flooded by the heat of mortification, she picked a book at random and returned to her room. She didn’t bother to open it, but simply blew out her candle and huddled beneath the covers.
Why, oh, why had she kissed him? Had what she had seen in his expression been regret or disgust? A painful certainty curled up in a tight hard ball in her chest. Whatever it was, an impetuous kiss had likely ruined her one chance to make more of her life.
Chapter Six
The next morning there was no sign of the Duke at breakfast or when they entered the carriage to leave for Lady Spear’s At Home, despite his promise to go with them. Clearly he had been disgusted by her wanton behaviour. Misery rested heavily in her chest. She hadn’t realised how important she found his good opinion. And now she had lost it.
* * *
They were admitted to Lady Spear’s house by a very lordly-looking butler, who announced them to the company assembled in the drawing room in sonorous tones.
‘Lend me your arm, dear Miss Nightingale,’ Her Grace murmured as they lingered on the threshold. ‘I am feeling less than steady on my feet.’
