Page 20 of The Wager of a Lady
“Marcus Barrington’s wife. The duchess.” The mention of his father iced the words. “Lovely woman. At any rate, the girls were always sticky. Olivia especially adored honey and it got all over me. Ruined one of my waistcoats.”
“I like Olivia already.”
He gave her a look of reproach. “They smelled bad, my sisters. I suppose they’ve improved but not by much.”
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not. Amanda decided all of the girls must play a musical instrument except Theodosia. She paints and thus was exempted from the tuneful torture.”
“The tuneful torture?”
His lips quirked. “My brother is the only one in the family with any musical talent. Brilliant on the piano. I’m not sure how he listens to Andromeda banging on the keys without losing his mind.”
“I’d no idea Welles plays the piano.”
“Don’t mention it to him. He’s a bit sensitive on the subject. Olivia, Amanda’s ward, is decent on a flute. But Phaedra.” Leo rolled his eyes as if praying for divine intervention. “Her violin playing is akin to the screeching of cats mating. We all have to pretend we enjoy her on the violin so as not to discourage her musical talent. Which she does not possess.”
Georgina stroked the line of his ribs, wondering at the unexpected glimpse into Leo’s life. He’d mentioned his sisters only a handful of times. The duchess once or twice. But never Marcus Barrington, the Duke of Averell. He was estranged from his father; everyone in London knew the gossip about the duke and his two sons. Georgina knew what it was like to have a less than friendly relationship with one’s father, though Leo and his brother’s loathing of the duke seemed more...permanent.
Leo was intelligent. Utterly charming with the sort of magnetism that drew both men and especially women to him. A brilliant conversationalist with the ability to put his audience at ease with a few casually spoken words—a skill he often used to manipulate his listener. She’d seen him do it any number of times. He wore his illegitimacy like a badge of honor, forcing others to notice it, announcing it if they did not. Georgina had yet to see him truly angry. He would never lose control of his emotions because it would leave him vulnerable. Open.
Leo never told her any of those things, but sheknewhim. Far better than he thought she did.
“Are we friends, Leo?”
“Why is that so important to you, Georgie?”
Because she wanted to matter to him. To not be just another female he’d wanted to bed. And because he meant quite a lot to her. Leo was the anchor she’d clung to since coming to London. As safe to her as Beechwood Court.
“Because it is,” she whispered.
His hand folded over her cheek, bringing their foreheads together. “You shouldn’t be friends with a gambling hell owner.” Leo’s mouth grazed hers. “Do you want to be escorted out of London?”
“I see you very differently, Leo.”
The sapphire of his eyes deepened. “Don’t.” His mouth fell on hers, sufficiently ending their conversation. The kiss was deep and possessive. Intimate. A slow gentle burn which dug deep into her bones, searing her soul. An eternity passed; their lips melded together, long enough for Georgina’s mind to lose sight of anything else but Leo. The movement of his hands over her skin left her heart racing, his beautiful fingers adoring every inch of her. His mouth and tongue followed, blazing a trail across her body, worshipping Georgina until she moaned beneath him.
Exquisitewas too dull a word for the experience.
When finally he settled between her thighs, whispering beautiful, sensual nonsense into her neck and hair, Leo entered her carefully, never once looking away. Lacing their fingers together above her head, the hard lines of his body sank into the cushion of hers, hips rocking in a dance more beautiful than any Georgina had ever experienced. A lazy roll of pleasure rippled up her body as she climaxed beneath him, sobbing out his name, her heart stopping. Leo groaned before withdrawing once more, spilling himself across her skin.
If she were given to swooning, now would have been the time. There had been so much more than the physical pleasure in that joining. Georgina’s eyes fluttered closed, afraid Leo would see the truth of her feelings. “That was...lovely.”
“Hmm.” His lips moved against the nape of her neck, smiling as he once more rose from the settee. He returned to the door set into the wall, producing yet another damp cloth.
“Where are the warm water and endless supply of clean towels coming from, Leo?”
A tangle of dark hair fell over his forehead as he returned to her. The thick locks curled about his ears and cheek in disarray. “There’s another door on the other side. One of the maids brings up warm water and fresh towels every hour or so without disturbing me.”
Georgina’s mood soured. The water and towels were a reminder that Leo must require such services with regularity if he entertained women in his office. “How convenient.”
Tawdry is the word I believe you’re looking for, Georgina.
“It is, under the circumstances.” The warmth of the cloth wiped at her stomach. “I can’t spend myself inside you, not if I’m trying to prevent a child. There are other methods.” He frowned. “I’m usually better prepared.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You knew withdrawing is—”
“Yes, of course,” she interrupted, not wanting to show her ignorance. Georgina had surmised as much because itdidmake sense given the entire seed analogy. Her mother hadn’t been very forthcoming with any facts about the marriage bed before Georgina wed Masterson. She assumed Georgina’s brief relationship with Winbow had relieved her of such a duty. She’d tried to tell both her parents that nothing had happened with the riverboat gambler aside from a stolen kiss or two. And some touching, though she hadn’t admitted to that.
It would be best if you stay in London for a time. Your father thinks it best, Georgina.
