Page 43 of For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Her mother looked sympathetically upon her while unwrapped her shawl, “Are you sure you will not be able to make it to the play, darling? It is aMidsummer Night’s Dream; one of your favourites.”

“I know,” Esther pouted, “I do love mischievous Puck; nonetheless, I think it best for me to rest tonight.”

Lady Eleanor inclined her head, “I understand. Do rest, and I’ll have your dinner sent up for you.”

Removing her hat, Esther embraced her, “Thank you.”

Taking the stairs, she went to her bedchamber, with her stomach clenching with guilt that she had lied to her mother. But the hope of seeing Arthur later that night buoyed her spirits. Besides, a little rebelliousness from her was due, wasn’t it? All her life, she had toed the line, now, what was one night of taking a risk?

She went to the dressing table and began to pull the pins out of her hair and sighed in relief when the thick tresses tumbled over her shoulder to mid-back. Swiftly, she found a card and wrote out a time on it just as Margaret entered the room.

“My Lady,” Margaret curtsied. “Her Grace has told me that you are not feeling well?”

Spying the half-open door, Esther asked Margaret to close it, and when they were alone, she asked her friend to sit. “I’m not ill; I only said that because I needed an excuse not to go with Mother and John to the playhouse this evening. I’ll be going to Vauxhall with Arthur.”

“Vax—” Margaret snapped her lips tightly then shook her head, and when she spoke again, her tone was calm. “Have you thought this through? ‘Tis a hazardous and scandalous place to go, especially after dark.”

Sinking to the edge of her bed, Esther nodded, “I know, but I think, I think tonight will be good for me. Arthur is a good man, and you know it. He will not let anything untoward happen to me.”

Her maid still looked uncomfortable, “I do not like this, My Lady.”

Looking at the card in her hands, Esther tried to brush off the lingering fears she felt as well, “I know Margaret, it is risky, but I feel it titillating, to be honest. I have not done anything as daring as this before, and I think it high time to break a few rules, don’t you?”

Margaret’s lips thinned, showing her displeasure, but she did not voice it. “My Lady, I strongly advise you to rethink this, but if you are sure, I’ll help you.”

“Good,” Esther said, the added comfort to Margaret that she would never be blamed if anything went wrong. “Please, send this to Captain Morgan, and then, I’ll have my dinner.”

After the maid left, Esther went to her wardrobe and began to look for the best dress. From what she had heard over the years, Vauxhall on Boxing Day was a spectacle that no one should ever miss. There were acrobats, fireworks, and dancing to dawn, and the imagination of it all made a rippling expectancy go through Esther.

When Margaret came back, Esther had three dresses on the bed. She looked up, “Is it sent off?”

“Post haste, My Lady,” Margaret assured her.

“Good, now help me choose the best dress,” Esther asked.

***

About ten o’clock, and with Margaret’s help, Esther sneaked through a servant’s door; her head wrapped up with a scarf and her body covered with a thick coat. She was headed to the servants’ gate where Margaret—again—had arranged for the coachman to hitch up the small hackney carriage and to wait for her there.

As her feet met the cobblestone walk to the dirt lane, Esther shot a look over her head to see the dark window above her. Her mother and brother were out to London—and soon she would be as well. She spotted the pacing horse at the edge of the lane and signalled to the driver. He dropped down from the seat, opened the door for her, and helped her in.

With a sigh of relief, she sat back and smiled when the carriage moved off, and she was on her way to Arthur’s home. It did not take long, and when she arrived, she barely reached for the handle before Arthur opened it for her. He held out his hand and grasped her with a firm grip, and when her feet hit the ground, his lips met hers.

The kiss went from light to hungry; his lips were hot and intense against hers; their tongues twined, stroked, suckled. Her hands clung to his shoulder, and the fingers of the others speared into his hair. She gave into his passion, to his desire and the lust twisting her insides.

When Arthur pulled away, Esther was breathless, “I’ve never been greeted like that before.”

“‘Tis a shame,” he said, while beckoning over his shoulder to a footman who joined her driver. The two had a quick conversation before the hackney drove off. “You should be greeted like that every day. I’m glad you came; Vauxhall awaits.”

He led her to a waiting carriage and, after helping her in, closed the door behind her. Arthur unwound the scarf from her hair and smiled at the silver thread of pearls through her hair, and when he unbuttoned her coat, smiled even wider at the flounced carriage dress of silver-green, which complimented her glossy curls and porcelain skin.

“You’re the fairest creature God ever made,” he whispered while trailing his lips down her neck. “Surely you know how attracted I am to you.”

Before she could respond, he took her mouth in a greedy kiss, and Esther struggled to match his zeal. When she managed to get her bearings, she sunk under the wave of passion he had. Esther should have expected this—she had tasted his desire back then at the musicale and had felt all the passion held tightly under his control.

What is to say I cannot feel it too?

“Tell me, Esther,” he whispered. “Have you read that novel, the one with wicked kisses?”

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