Page 65 of Their Master

Moira stared in slack-jawed shock; for the first time in her life, a client had leftherwanting more.

Chapter 15

Moira scarcely had a moment alone with Smith until three nights later, when they met in his study before dinner.

It was the first time that he would be taking Moira out, and they would be joining his friends at a restaurant. He’d ordered a new gown for the occasion even though Moira already had dozens that she’d never worn.

Like all the other clothing he’d chosen for her, it was romantic and feminine and there were no crinolines, cages, or bustles; just a corset, chemise, and petticoat of silk beneath a flowing velvet gown that was reminiscent of a style depicted in medieval paintings.

Her armoires were full of such garments, which had come out of the dress reform movement and were designed to promote not only more comfortable clothing, but also to prevent the countless fires caused each year by huge cages and bustles knocking into candles and lamps.

“I’m thrilled my house won’t burn to the ground, but I must admit that I like it because it affords easier access to your body,” Smith had admitted as he’d made her model the ice blue velvet ensemble—complete with a full-length, fur-lined cloak—right before they’d left the house.

“Indeed, you look too delicious not to fuck.” He’d then proceeded to bend her over his spotless desk and work two orgasms out of Moira before emptying himself inside her.

“I think not,” he’d said when she had asked for a moment to clean herself before they left the house. “I want to imagine you with my spend running down your thighs all night while we sit in public, surrounded by people.”

And that is exactly what was happening right now.

Moira shifted in her seat, her thighs sliding against one another, as she sat at the table with Smith and his friends.

It surprised her that such a man—too untrusting to share even his real name—would have friends, but Smith appeared more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

There were two couples at the table, a huge, bear-like man and his tiny wife—Edward and Nora Fanshawe—and a towering gentleman named Stephen Chatham and his tall, thin companion, whom he’d introduced as Josephine Leather.

Moira knew this was the same Leather who’d been Smith’s former valet—and, if her brother was right—also his love.

A third couple, the Earl and Countess of Taunton, had not yet arrived.

“Gideon and Alys will be along shortly,” Nora Fanshawe said, and then grimaced. “I’m afraid I made them late.”

“How did you make them late?” Smith asked.

“They brought over their son to meet Amelia and Nora wanted me to steal him,” Edward explained dryly, sipping the wine the sommelier had brought and nodding to the hovering man.

“Amelia is our daughter,” Nora said to Moira. “Edward would not participate in the abduction, so young Gideon escaped our clutches.”

Moira was charmed by the other woman’s playfulness.

Smith clucked his tongue. “What? No kidnapping, Edward? Since when did you become so law-abiding?”

Edward snorted.

Nora ignored their teasing. “The good news is that Alys promised we could borrow young Gideon for an entire evening this coming Friday.”

“Ah, yes,” Smith said. “That is the evening they are going to dine with the Queen, is it not?”

“Gideon is so nervous it is adorable,” Nora said.

Edward rolled his eyes.

“Women think that everything about Gideon is adorable,” Smith explained to Moira. “I daresay you will fall under the same spell when you meet him.”

Moira was intrigued. The Earl of Taunton had frequented Bernina’s before he’d married and she’d heard plenty of stories about his voracious sexual appetite and outrageous behavior.

“What sort of an arse names his child the same name as himself?” Edward demanded.

“Gideon’s sort,” Stephen Chatham said in a soft voice, which bore a slight Yorkshire burr. “I fully expect him to name any future sons the same thing.”

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