Page 11 of Loving Mister Stratford
“And Mr. Stratford seems attentive—rather much more so than usual,” her mother added.
“Neither of us knows many people here,” Odette offered as an explanation.
Her mother finally turned and addressed her directly.“You’ve managed to captivate him, but he still doesn’t seem much closer to offering for you.” Odette wasn’t sure if this was meant as a statement or an admonishment, so she said nothing in response.“I suppose some men simply move more slowly than others.” Her mother glanced at the tiny clock set into the backside of the pendant dangling from the glittering chain at her neck. She looked striking in her deep mauve gown, which contrasted sharply with her porcelain features and honey-gold hair.“Come,” she said, offering her arm to Odette;“we’ve been away far too long and it simply doesn’t do to duck out on one’s hosts.”
Still confused by the situation, Odette accepted her mother’s proffered arm and, together, they stepped out into the hallway and slowly began to make their way back to the party. It was all Odette could do not to drag her mother along behind her when she insisted upon a snail’s pace.
“You know I’ve always done what I thought was best for you, Odette,” her mother said suddenly, seeming more sincere than Odette had heard in a long while.
“Yes,maman,” Odette replied softly, curious to see where this turn would lead.
“And everything I have foisted upon you was only so you would have more stability than I had at your age.” Odette nodded mutely. Though she didn’t always feel appreciated by her mother and she sometimes had difficulties accepting her methods, she couldn’t deny that she’d benefitted from an enviable education and finishing; she’d been prepared for a life in Society and afforded opportunities of which her mother could never have dreamt.“Good.”
They stopped in the middle of the hallway, halfway to the open door of the parlor filled with guests, its golden light slashing across the floor like a beacon. Her mother turned to face her and adjusted a lock of Odette’s hair in a gesture that would have seemed motherly had it come from anyone else.
“I hope you never forget that all I do is for you,” her mother said almost gently.
Odette opened her mouth to speak, but, in one swift movement, her mother reached around her, thrust open the door at Odette’s back, and shoved her into darkness. Odette landed backward with a yelp against something hard and warm as the door slammed in her face.
Simon stumbled backward further into the pitch-dark room as something soft and fragrant and decidedly female-shaped collided with him. Momentarily blinded by a brief flash of light when the door was opened, he struggled to regain his footing and wound up collapsing haphazardly into a chair. He narrowly managed to gain his seat instead of tumbling to the floor in a heap. He gripped a pair of soft upper arms in his hands, a heavy curtain of skirts and a delightfully round bottom landed in his lap. The woman stiffened against him.
He knew in an instant exactly the woman he held in his arms.
He recognized her height, the feel of her skin, her delicate scent of clean powder and lilacs.
“Miss Leroy?” he inquired into the darkness.
“Mr. Stratford?” she breathed in a disoriented response.
“What the deuce is going on here?” he demanded, becoming more and more aware of the weight of her upon his lap, the way her curves nestled against him so perfectly.
“I—I don’t, that is, I’m not sure…” she stuttered and stammered, grasping for a response, seemingly as taken aback as he by their sudden predicament.
“One minute I was being shown into the room by a servant, told a message had arrived from my family; the next, the door was shut behind me and I was thrust into darkness. I don’t understand.” Simon didn’t care for surprises, nor did he enjoy situations where he felt lost.
Was there something he was missing?
Something he couldn’t grasp?
Odette wriggled against him.
“Please, I know as little as you do. Let me up,” she frantically breathed against him, the blackness filled with the sound of her rustling skirts as she attempted to stand. One of the layers tugged at his boot and he realized she was caught beneath his heel.
“Wait, let me—” He had to catch her and place her in his lap once more as she teetered precariously. Better to save her from smashing her pretty face upon the floor.
With some difficulty, he began to disentangle the layers of her lacy skirts from both their legs using touch and intuition alone. In doing so, he had to hold her flush to his body, pressing her chest against his so closely that he could feel the pounding of her heart beneath her ample breast. He struggled to remain composed beneath this onslaught of sensations; each of his other senses heightened since his sight had been stolen.
He was agonizingly aware of her short, rapid breaths against his cheek, the sweet exquisite scent of her flesh filling his nostrils, the cool softness of her silken stocking as he inadvertently brushed her calf with the back of his hand.
When she was finally free, he sat up and found that he was loath to release her.
Judging by the warmth he felt from her nearness, the gentle, sweet puffs of her breath, their faces were mere inches apart. How many times had he wondered what she would taste of? How many times had he watched those delectable lips of hers move as she spoke, and ponder what they would feel like against his?
Just as Simon began to incline his head to act upon those desires, the door to the room was flung open wide, blinding them both in a hellish onslaught of golden candlelight. They both flinched back from the glare, squinting against the illumination and struggling to focus their eyes.
“Odette!” cried her mother’s unmistakable voice. Simon blinked several times before he was finally able to make out several barely discernible faces silhouetted by the backlighting.“And Mister Stratford!” Mademoiselle Auclair’s hand flew to her neck in a gesture of shock and awe, the other began to fan her face as if a faint was imminent. Their host steadied her elbow while another male guest whom Simon didn’t recognize chimed in.
“What is the meaning of this? An illicit tryst?” There was no mistaking the venomous glee in the man’s voice.
