Page 3 of A Gentleman's Wager
Bella gulped while her heart did a triple jump. She stayed frozen for what felt like an eternity, until he turned away and floated further down river, thus confirming that he hadn’t spotted her.
It was time she went, before he did. Bella rose slowly and began to dust herself off. A few too many twigs and Joshua would ask questions. She was all ready to sneak away and force a path through the rhododendrons when a loud splash turned her head back to the water.
Viscount Marlinscar emerged from the stream glittering like the morning dew on the grass. Upright and completely naked before her, he paused to tilt his head to the sun, and run his hands through his tangled hair.
Well, if she had not been enamoured before, now she was thoroughly dazzled. For a crazy moment she had to fight the urge to undress and run to him. All rational thoughts of scurrying off departed. Instead, she watched the silver rivulets trickle down his chest. The front of him was every bit as pleasing as the rear. He was long-limbed and lean. Hairless, except for a thin pale-golden line that trailed down from his navel to his groin.
Her focus narrowed to one silvered droplet as it traversed his abdomen, snaked across his hipbone and finally came to rest on his thigh. She hardly dared to look further, but simultaneously couldn’t look away. Slowly, slowly, her gaze shifted sideways from where the droplet rested to the dangling weight of his manhood. Although, it turned out not to be dangling at all. The contrasting temperatures of the lazy afternoon sun and the cold water had done more than wash the toils of the day away. He stood glowing and half-erect.
Titillation turned her cheeks into two scarlet blooms.
Apparently unconcerned by his condition, Lord Marlinscar waded along the bank through the thick grass, with Bella following along concealed by undergrowth as if they were connected by an invisible thread. A few paces on he settled among the rushes and disappeared from her line of sight
“Oh no!” No, that would not do. Frantically, she sought a vantage point. To her right stood a gnarled yew tree, readily climbable, with comfortable lower branches in which she could perch. Oft times she would sit within its branches and read the latest novel by Mrs Radcliffe. Bella stealthily found the familiar hand holds and scrambled into its boughs with her skirts hitched to the knees. Then, flattened upon her belly, she wriggled into position. The view was perfect.
Viscount Marlinscar lay sprawled upon his back with his eyes closed. One hand was combing through his short hair, while the other travelled an unhesitant path down his body, over his chest and across the flat plane of his stomach to his groin, where his member presented itself in ramrod fashion. The shaft was pale as a Chinese vase, and splashed with blue veins, while the tip, to which she watched him press a finger, was ripened like a plum.
Bella was no shielded innocent. She lived among country folk wise in the matters of procreation and pleasure. She knew the ways in which a man and woman might come together, and how to bring herself to unholy bliss. She’d never watched a man toss himself, but she knew enough to recognise it for what it was. The parson would have a paroxysm if he heard that a blue-blooded noble was known to caress himself without any display of shame. According to the church, it was a mortal sin, after all. Not that she’d ever put any stock in religious doctrine and its prescriptive notions.
If only she were in a less precarious position, then she might raise her skirts and race him to completion.
Bella bit her lip, while she rocked herself back and forth against the branch. His fingers ringed his shaft, the movements becoming increasingly focused on the head. Damn her for a trollop, but she wanted to go to him. To tangle her fingers in the knots of his hair and ride astride his hips. He was everything. Not even the wren chirping in alarm in the branch above her diverted her attention.
Lord Marlinscar reached his climax with a deep groan that made Bella grin and painted a sticky fountain over the nearby grass. In the afterglow, his hands came back to his head, shielding his eyes, which he opened.
He blinked.
“What the devil?” Lucerne jerked upright, his gaze fixed upon her.
Panicked, Bella fell crashing down in a heap of skirts and curses. She found her feet immediately, while he still stood gaping at her in total astonishment. She made haste towards the nearest bush.
“Jesus, hellfire, and damnation!” In a straight race, he would easily catch her, and she had no mind for explanations or chastisements. She would not have him summon her brother and be subjected to a lengthy lecture. Luckily, she knew the grounds far better than he did.
“Miss,” he called after her, but Bella didn’t even turn her head until she was safely through the gates. Then she held onto the wrought iron, breath dry and heavy in her lungs, as she pulled the gate to. At the far end of the avenue, having given up his pursuit, Viscount Marlinscar watched her mount up.
He gave her a salute before she cantered away.
-2-
Bella
“Louisa!” Bella screamed as she hurtled towards the petite figure descending from the carriage.
Her bosom friend of many years dropped her vanity case and opened her arms to greet her. “Bella,” she said, fondly returning Bella’s crushing embrace with considerably less force. “I’m so glad to finally be here. The journey was horrid. I do not know why my aunt could not spare the carriage but insisted I travel by public conveyance. We have been squashed in four to a side all the way from Doncaster, and I don’t know how many more upon the roof.”
“Oh, dear,” Bella declared. “But you are here now, and I am so very pleased to see you.” It had been two years since they’d last embraced. Louisa’s brother had passed unexpectedly, and as she was still not of age, she’d been obliged to move in with her aunt who kept a house in London. “You must come in and tell me all your news. Where you have been, what you have seen, and accounts of the parties you have attended. Especially, you must tell me who has caught your eye. You’re so vague in your letters. And all about the journey too. No highwaymen?” Her gaze flickered eagerly over her friend’s delicate features.
Louisa shook her head. “Only a sermonizing reverend with a gouty toe, who insisted on showing it to every passenger who boarded. It was the most revolting thing. There was a woman with a little dog you’d have liked.” Bella had always been fond of animals “It had such a sweet temperament, slept soundly on her lap except for when we crossed the moors, then it barked so fearfully we were sure we were to be attacked.”
“Dogs are sensible. They can sense the boggarts.”
Louisa pushed free of Bella’s embrace. “I don’t think such things are real. They’re just stories.”
Bella’s expression danced with incredulity. “Of course they’re real. Hush now, don’t go offending them. Else who knows what mischief they’ll make.”
“Bella.”
“Hish! Let’s not squabble over it when you are just arrived. For I have news to tell as well.” She broke into another wide smile. “Lauwine Hall is occupied. Can you believe it?” She gave a small laugh. “Viscount Marlinscar has taken residence, and,”—her voice dropped to a whisper—“Joshua has invited him and a guest to dinner tomorrow.”
