Adelaide paced outside his door, wringing her hands. She was going to let loose her inner bloodthirsty nature and kill Strafford and Lady Norbury for inventing such a foul game.
Oh, why didn't she snatch away the second glass from the table?
What was happening inside the room?
Was Wyndham going to die?
The door opened and she would have barrelled into the room had her brother not blocked it. "Is Wyndham all right?"
He shut the door behind him and led her away. "Yes, he is fine. Nothing lots of hot tea and a good sleep won't cure."
"But...in the gardens..."
He patted her head. "That is what helped him be better. His body needed to evict all the alcohol he drank. Though what a waste of fine whiskey. Ow!" He rubbed the part of his arm where she'd struck him.
"How can you say that!"
"Only in jest, dear sister. Could you not tell?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "You are awfully angry on his behalf. Why?"
"No." She looked away. "I'm...only suitably annoyed. Well, if he is fine, then I shall be for my bed then. Good night." And marched away before her brother asked her more questions she couldn't answer.
In the safety of her room, she sank on the chair in front of her vanity table while Betsey bustled in to help her undress. "Oh, Miss Kendall! Are what the maids said true? Did Mr Wyndham really drink the entire decanter of whiskey in one go?"
"No. He only drank two almost full glasses." She looked at her maid's reflection in the mirror. "What else did the maids say?"
"That Lord Dover got into fisticuffs with Lord Strafford and he near beat the man to death! Did you see?"
She shook her head, but she wasn't all that surprised to hear it had happened. His lordship had been irate and he'd looked ready to kill someone. "What else?"
The coy expression on the other girl's face was slightly disconcerting. "They said that Mr Wyndham might as well have declared his love for you because he drank the whiskey on your behalf."
Her hands that had been unfastening her earbobs stilled. She shot her lady's maid a stern glare and Betsey was all contrition. "Sorry, Miss Kendall. But I'm only repeating what I heard. But do you not think the same?"
Adelaide stood so that Betsey could unlace her. "Mr Wyndham only did the gentlemanly thing, for it is unbecoming of a lady to imbibe whiskey and so much at that." As she put on her nightgown, she continued, "He is no more in love with me than I am with him." She made for her bed. "Good night, Betsey."
"Good night, Miss Kendall." The girl retreated from her room to deal with the clothes, leaving Adelaide alone in the room. And with her thoughts.
Betsey's words repeated themselves and she pressed her lips together. No, it couldn't be. The maids had it wrong. And if they'd merely repeated what the guests were saying, then they were wrong too.
Wyndham only did what was necessary out of propriety and not of affection. And certainly not because of love. They didn't know he was incapable of that emotion, otherwise they wouldn't spin such a tale.
But she was aware, so she couldn't allow herself to believe what others had said out of ignorance.
Even if a tiny part of her wanted to believe their words, she couldn't.
She would be the greatest fool that ever lived if she did.
*˜*˜*˜
Garrett looked up at the night sky, admiring it while the distant rumble of a carriage cut through the silence of the countryside night.
"Is the bastard gone?" He turned at Dover's voice.
"Yes. I just had the satisfaction of hauling a blue and black Strafford into his carriage and threatening him with bodily harm if he ever so much as stepped foot into the area or approach them in London."
"Thank you." In the light shining through the open front door, he could see some blood flecks on the taller, older man's pristine white cravat and his cuffs.
"No thanks necessary. It was a great pleasure of mine indeed. Though I would have like to beat him up more. Maybe break a limb or two."
"Unfortunately, that was beyond me. I could only manage a broken nose and a black eye. How is Philip?"
"After he coughed up his guts, he's all right, I should think. I had two footmen help him up to his room just now and poured some hot tea down his throat. He should be sleeping it off right now."
"Thank you. By the way, Philip mentioned that you wish to discuss some parliamentary matters. I have informed him that we will meet after the conclusion of this party. Has he informed you?"
"Yes, he has. Thank you, my lord, for agreeing to this."
"No thanks necessary. It is the least I can do after what you and your family have done for him these last few years. You can come stay with us for a few days. I've plenty of game at one of my other smaller properties that I've decided to gift to Philip now that he's returned from the war. He'll need a place of his own."
"Certainly. That sounds splendid, my lord." He could hardly believe his good fortune for he'd only thought he would get a few hours at best.
"I will have an invitation sent. I best be seeing Philip now. Good night, Kendall." And turned on his heels.
"And to you, my lord." Heartened by the earl's words, Garrett pumped his fist into the air. And his spirits lifted further when he spied Miss Blackmore turning the corner of the house. "Miss Blackmore! What a pleasant surprise. Fancy meeting you out here."
"Indeed." She stepped into the light and he noticed how her blonde hair gleamed in the soft candlelight. He was struck anew by how pretty she looked tonight, even with the paste jewellery she had on. Somehow, she'd made everything she wore look elegant and refined on her person. He swore that even if she wore sackcloth and ashes, men would fall at her feet, even if she claimed otherwise.
He was certain he already had. Ever since she'd claimed he'd used his mother as an excuse to chase his sister away so he could gain her sole attention, he never found another chance to get her alone.
And he was dying to. Every time he spoke to her, he felt more alive than ever. "Might I accompany you on your walk?"
"Why do you assume I'm going to continue?"
"Because I wish that were the truth...?"
"And just because you wish something to happen, it must?"
He grinned, blocking her path as she tried to get back into the house. "Aye, I have missed your sharp tongue flaying me, Miss Blackmore."
She arched a brow. "Are you one who enjoys pain and mistakes it for pleasure, sir?"
"I'll have you know, madam, that pain and pleasure go quite well together."
"You sound quite the expert on this topic."
"I doubt it. But there are places that one can go to, to learn about such things." He knew he was bordering on indecency but he couldn't help himself. There was something about Miss Blackmore that brought out the devil in him.
"Are you...inviting me along, sir?"
"Would you like me to?"
Her emerald green eyes flashed. In indignation or something else he couldn't quite tell. "If I say yes, what would you do?" Her low words tugged at his loins.
He had her against the wall of the house and his thigh between her legs before he realised what he was doing. "Miss Blackmore, you are playing with fire."
"Not anymore than you are, Mr Kendall." Her gaze dropped to his lips before flicking up to his. She licked her own, stirring the fire within him. "Decide now if you are going to unhand me or kiss me. If not, I-"
He swallowed her words with his mouth. He didn't care if it was her first kiss or not. All he knew was that he needed her taste more than his next breath.
Grounding his hips into her soft belly, he took advantage of her parted lips to plunder her mouth. God, she tasted divine. He thought he'd be satisfied with one taste but he was utterly wrong. He needed more.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. He drew back in shock. Only then did he hear sounds of chatter drifting through the still open door. He looked at her wordlessly, his heart roaring in his ears. She only straightened her dress and spun on her heels to take the stairs up into the house, a glitter in her eyes he couldn't decipher.
*˜*˜*˜
16 August 1815
Day 7 of runaway lust and Torture
It was the last day of the house party. And as such, Lady Healey had planned a great many activities for the entire group. After breakfast, there would be a bout of archery, followed by some riding to a small lake where there were plenty of fish. The men could go fishing while the women would have another picnic — again because the one yesterday had been such a success — before they all returned for dinner and the closing ball.
Because of her sprain, Adelaide couldn't take part in the archery activity and so sat under the tent that had been erected in deference to the bright summer sun that was bearing down on the lot of them. Most of the chairs were occupied by the older female guests who were content to spectate that sport. Cold lemonade had been brought out in glass jugs to combat the hot, still air. There was barely any wind to interfere in the shooting of arrows but it made for a slightly uncomfortable activity.
However, it seemed the younger guests were not fazed by the lack of breeze. Both the ladies and the gentlemen were eager to test themselves against one another.
The gentlemen went first while the ladies watched and provided encouragement. There were cheers and claps whenever anyone hit the target which was set at a hundred yards.
She joined in the claps, gratified that she needn't pretend to cheer for Lord Strafford since he'd left last night.
Glancing at Dover, she tried to discern if Lord Strafford had managed to land a blow, but the earl looked none worse for the wear. His younger brother, however, looked slightly pale to her.
This morning when she saw him at breakfast, she hadn't known whether to approach him or not, the rumours at the forefront of her mind. Though she desperately wanted to ask after his health and to thank him for what he did for her, she didn't want to encourage more rumours by engaging him in conversation.
So, she'd only nodded at him before taking her seat at the far end of the table since his left and right had been occupied by eligible young women. And tried not to watch him over her hot chocolate and toast, both of which had settled uneasily in her stomach at the sight of him having fun with his breakfast companions.
She pushed herself upright in her chair when he stepped up to the line to take the shot. A slight breeze lifted the curls on his forehead, but he seemed unfazed by it. A few heartbeats later, he released his arrow and it whistled through the air, almost piercing the centre of the board. Oohs and aahs filled the air and she noted more admiring glances than last night being sent his way. Jealousy burned away all thoughts of admiration of his fine form and she flexed her hands.
No, she had no right to be jealous. They had laid no claim on each other. The ladies were entitled to their esteemed opinions of him. She was like them too. Had she not sent her fair share of appreciative looks at other men before?
She settled deeper into her chair. No matter what she thought about his character, about his person, she wouldn't let them show. She would treat him just like any of the other men she'd admired from afar.
His side profile did not remind her of a particular naughty illustration she'd seen. And it most certainly did nothing to her insides.
Not at all.
He was barely an arms' length from her, and she could see the perspiration beading along his hairline. She watched in fascination as a drop coalesced and grew bigger, clinging in desperation until it could no longer resist the pull of gravity.
Down it slid, along the side of his face, past his angular jawline and into the folds of his cravat. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she realised she'd wanted to trace the path that drop had taken with her tongue.
Pushing her erotic thoughts away — she already knew they would do her no good — she shifted her gaze. Only to realise he'd been looking at her the entire time she'd been staring at him. "Mr Wyndham," she cleared her throat. "My felicitations are having beat the rest. Here, you must be parched." She busied her hands and poured him a glass of lemonade, hoping she covered her misstep sufficiently for no one else to realise what'd gone through her mind.
Wyndham accepted the drink graciously and sat in the unoccupied chair next to her. She forced herself to look only in front, at the other men who were stepping forward for the next round of archery contest, and not at the one who inspired thoughts that had the maids giggling whenever they spied a handsome footman.
She grabbed the fan that was on the table next to her and started fanning herself vigorously, though the air did nothing to relieve the uncomfortably warm sensation she was feeling inside her core.
She fidgeted in her seat, trying to ease the pressure she felt between her legs, but nothing helped. A warm breeze blew through the tent at that moment, and the scent of summer, bergamot and lemon teased her nose.
Instead of cooling her down as she'd hoped, it caused her to ache even more and she could no longer abide sitting down. Even her breasts felt odd and her nipples chafed against her chemise and protested being contained by her corset. Abruptly, she stood. "My apologies, Mama, and everyone. I fear I am a little overheated."
Lady Healey stood, concern on her face. "Are you quite all right, my dear?"
"Yes, I am, Mama. I think I just need my room for a bit. If you will excuse me." She curtsied and left the tent to make for the house, hoping that the cool interior would relieve some of the intense discomfort she was feeling. Whatever it was, she hoped it would pass soon.
Once she stepped into the shade of the house, she felt a measure of relief. She was almost at the top of the stairs when she heard her name being called and turned around to see the object of her sensual thoughts. "Miss Kendall."
"Mr Wyndham. Why have you come? Do you need something?"
He took the stairs two at a time until he stood on the same level as her. "No, I don't need anything. I...I just came to see how you are feeling. And to see if your ankle is well."
Now that he stood so close to her, she realised where the scent of bergamot came from. Him. Desperate to put some distance between them before she did something she regretted, she continued up the stairs. "You may return to the tent, Mr Wyndham. I do not require your assistance."
He trailed after her. "You do not look well, Miss Kendall. Your cheeks are extremely flushed, as is your neck and ears. Are you sure you're fine? Should I have your Mrs Harton fetch you some ice?"
"There is no need for that, Mr Wyndham. A little lie down is all I require." They were in the corridor now and she saw the library. Memories of his kiss and the lewd illustrations flooded her. She stopped abruptly and he walked right into her. As she stumbled forward, his hand snaked around her waist to catch her, and she found her back plastered against his front.
Her breath caught in her throat, as did his. The underside of her breasts brushed against the top of his forearm that was banded tightly around her middle. It was too much for her to resist and she was tired of denying herself.
She felt the loosening of his arm and her hand came up to press it back against her. "No."
"Miss Kendall?"
Staring at the shelves of books in front of her, she was emboldened by a courage she didn't know she possessed. "You kissed me before, Mr Wyndham. In that very room." She lifted a finger to point at the library. He nodded and she turned her head, feeling his breath against her temple. The sensation sent tingles all over, until there was no inch of her that wasn't experiencing a strange numbness that wasn't really numbness.
"Your actions of yesterday...when you took the forfeit for me last night. And before that, when you saved me from further embarrassment in the hands of Lady Norbury." She heard the hitch in his breath and she lifted her free hand to graze her fingertips against his jawline. "Why?"
"It...it is what any gentleman would have done."
"Is it not because you wanted to do something for me? Do you truly not desire me, Mr Wyndham?" She looked up into his eyes. The grey had almost disappeared and she was peering in the dark depths, a feeling of falling overcoming her. "Do you not wish to kiss me anymore?" The last sentence came out almost as a whisper. Her gaze dropped to his lips and her fingers moved of their own volition to trace the pink, plump flesh.
"Miss Kendall, do you know what you are asking for?" She felt the rumble of his words keenly within her. "Is this what you truly want?"
She felt intoxicated as if she'd drunk bottles of fine wine yet overwrought at the same time, a jittery anxiety that wouldn't dissipate even with his nearness. She nodded and lifted herself onto her toes, so that her lips would be closer to his.
His growl came first, before he spun her around. Their noses were almost touching. "This is your last chance to change your mind, Adelaide."
On hearing her name, she smiled and leaned forward, touching her lips to his.
Philip was lost to the desire she ignited in him. Moving instinctively, he lifted her up so her chest was crushed against his and he walked forward in the general direction of the library.
Once inside, he closed the door behind him and sat down on the nearest chair so she was in his lap. Manoeuvring her legs so they straddled his thighs, he pulled her forward so he could finally capture her lips fully in his own.
He ran his tongue against the seam of her lips while sweeping one hand up her torso, brushing the side of her breasts, and across the exposed skin of her neckline. She gasped at the contact of his thumb in the valley of her chest and he took the chance to sweep his tongue inside her, revelling in the taste of her.
A part of him that was still lucid reminded him to go slow as this was the first time she was properly kissed. However, the more animalistic part of him wanted to bury himself immediately in her.
His logic hung by a very precarious thread and he struggled to pull himself back to the confines of reality. He'd have succeeded had she not suddenly raise her right hand to stroke his cheek while her left rested on his chest. She pressed her lips more fully against him and touched her tongue to his.
The logical part of him was immediately engulfed by the flames of desire and lust, burnt to a crisp so that all remained was the need to have her. Completely.
His hips lifted spontaneously and he grounded himself against the softest part of her, swallowing her sounds of pleasure even as he groaned.
Peeling his lips from hers, he lightly ran the edge of his nose down her neck, inhaling her lemony scent mingling with the traces of her desire. At the base of her throat, his lips touched the place where her pulse was beating wildly before descending to her collarbone.
He placed light butterfly-like kisses atop the luscious swells and was gratified when he heard the heavy panting of her desire.
The door of the library banged open and both their heads turned to the door. Before either of them could react, Dover entered. And on his heels were Lady Healey and Miss Blackmore.
And one of the biggest gossips of the party, Lady Halifax.
A sharp inhalation cut through the echoing silence. "What in the heavens..."
Lady Halifax looked gleefully on. "My, my, Lady Healey. Who would have known you'd be able to host a wedding so soon?"
Lady Healey nodded. "Yes, my lady, it appears so. Now, if you would excuse us. I must sort matters out." She guided the countess out of the room while Adelaide scrambled off the chair, wincing when she landed too heavily on her still-healing ankle. "Mama."
Wyndham stood beside her, his hand on her back, steadying her.
Her mother strode forward in decisive steps, her face pinched tight. She grabbed Adelaide's wrist and pulled her to one side of the room. "What is the meaning of this, Adelaide? I thought you'd gone to lie down."
"I did. I mean I wanted to..." she trailed off, unsure how to tell her mother. "I-"
"My lady," Wyndham moved towards, "I-"
Her mother held up a hand, and the fiercest of expressions she'd never seen before — even after her brother had accidentally broken an heirloom vase when he was younger — took over her mother's usual gentle features. She didn't address Wyndham — who looked stricken — but the earl instead. "My lord, you will arrange for a special license for your brother to marry my daughter. I expect it to arrive within the next three days. We will announce their engagement at tonight's ball."
"Of course, my lady. I will see to it at once." He bowed and exited the room.
"Miss Blackmore, please take my daughter back to her rooms. I shall speak to her later. Have one of the footman send for my husband and my son to meet us in his lordship's study."
"Yes, my lady." Frederica hurried forward to lead Adelaide away. "Come, my dear."
"But Mama-"
The viscountess did not look at her daughter, only at the man who was to become her son-in-law, her eyes stern and exacting, hard blue gems that were sharp enough to cut through the softest of skins.
That was the last thing she saw as Frederica all but dragged her out of the library and to her rooms. "Frederica, you can release me now. I can walk on my own." She smoothened the creases in her dress as the pair of them rounded the corner to her room.
After she closed the door behind them, Frederica pulled her towards the settee. Seating them both down, Frederica clasped Adelaide's hand in hers.
Adelaide was grateful for the silence — though she imagined her friend had a thousand questions — for her own thoughts were scattered like the grains on the ground after a harvest. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, trying to gather everything together.
After a few breaths, her mind settled somewhat, though it was still a mess. "It isn't what it looks like, Frederica." She looked into her friend's compassionate eyes. "Mr Wyndham didn't compromise my body."
"He mightn't have, but your reputation..." her friend patted her hand. "That, he did compromise."
"I am well aware of that." She sighed. "I wish I had more say in this."
"I know."
"I wish I didn't have to be forced to marry him. That I could choose freely as to whether I wanted to or not."
"I know."
A lump grew suddenly in her throat and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She struggled to push the emotion away, but tears crept into her eyes. "I wish..." she swallowed but the lump stayed. "I love him, Frederica but he cannot love me." The tears overflowed and she squeezed her eyes close, collapsing against her friend, sobbing into her friend's arms.
"I know."