An Improper Seduction (7 page)

Chapter 7

Angeline was most relieved when she arrived at luncheon to find that the marquess was not present. She had no patience to deal with the scandalous rake today. Her body ached all over; it was even difficult for her to sit down on any but the softest seat. It was all his fault.

But when she thought of the prior night, his lovemaking and her wanton enjoyment of it, she became all aroused again. Her face heated and flushed. Her breasts swelled and ached. And the moistness returned between her thighs.

It was just too much by half. The bastard. What had he done to her? She was never before like this. How was she to get over it?

Even her father had noticed her lack of grace. When he had inquired about her stiffness, she had told him she had pulled a back muscle while working in the garden. She was not sure he believed her as his face reflected a most unusual grin.

It was Geoffrey’s fault. She would never again go to him. She hoped she would never even see him again since he now had gotten what he wanted from her.

She barely made it through the midday meal, tolerating the mundane discussions her father would bring up, keeping rein on her thoughts about her recent experience and her own unleashed passion. No sooner had she put down her dessert spoon than Thomas knocked upon the door, entered and announced, “Lord Colburn, my lord, my lady.” Then he was there, walking through the door with his sexual arrogance, making her heart flutter, her face flush, her body heat up all over again.

This would not do. It just could not continue.

“Angus,” said the marquess, striding over to the head of the table with hand outstretched. “I had a few free moments this afternoon so I thought I might ask to take your lovely daughter for a ride. I have even brought a mare from my own stables for her. What say you, my good man?”

Arrogant, arrogant bastard. Angeline fumed silently.
Ride a horse? I can barely stand up and walk because of him.

“Well, Geoffrey,” returned the earl, looking most self-pleased as he turned to his daughter, “I think that a famous idea. Angeline, go up and put on your riding habit. We must not keep the marquess waiting.”

“But, father, I do not wish to go. I told you I’ve pulled my back. I should let it rest,” pleaded Angeline with as much dignity as she could summon under the circumstances.

“Nonsense, my girl. The exercise shall do you good. It will work out that kink in no time at all. Now get moving. Geoffrey is waiting.”

Angeline rose stiffly from her seat, glaring at her nemesis as she headed for the door. Geoffrey’s face held a smug smile.
Oh, I wish I could just slap him,
she brooded.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the manor’s front door to find Geoffrey holding the reins of two uncommon horses. The Arabian black was huge, frisky, and surely a stud. How appropriate for her belligerent besieger. The second was a smaller chestnut mare who continued to ignore the nudges from the stud despite his refusal to accept the rebuff.

After Angeline descended the stairs, Geoffrey gently took her hand in his. Rather than kiss her fingertips, he turned her palm up, then proceeded to place hot, wet kisses on her naked wrist.

“Geoffrey. Anyone may see,” protested Angeline as she pulled her hand away while trying to retrieve her spiraling senses.

“Good day to you, my lady. I could not go a whole day without the pleasure of your company.” He put his hands round her waist, then easily lifted her into the sidesaddle.

Angeline winced as her bottom hit the slightly cushioned leather. This was not going to be a pleasant ride, nor an easy one. “The last thing I wish to do today is ride a horse,” she spit at him.

“I would expect not, after how I rode you last night, my angel. But it was the only idea I could credit within such a short period to abscond with you for a couple of hours. We will take our time. You’ll get used to being in my saddle.” His knowing smile dazzled her but also served to irritate her all the more.

“Oh, you villain,” she cursed him, then mumbled further, more unacceptable expletives beneath her breath.

Geoffrey, gaining his horse, made a clicking sound while he kicked his stud in the withers. The black moved out, the mare following with little urging from her rider.

They rode in silence for some time. Angeline continued to struggle in her saddle trying to find the most comfortable, least painful position, to no avail.

Geoffrey led them over her estate, then onto his. He circled round the lake by the cottage, coming to a halt in a small clearing at the water’s edge. The surrounding trees shielded all eyes except those that might be across the lake where the cottage stood, and Geoffrey was positive there was no one there at present.

After dismounting, Geoffrey came to her side, caught her once more at the waist, then lowered her from her saddle. But instead of setting her straight onto the ground, he held her close to his chest, looking deeply into her eyes, his own green orbs dark and dangerous. Brushing his lips lightly across hers, he slid her down his chest, over his aroused sex, until her feet touched the ground.

“Will I ever get enough of you, my Angeline?” he queried softly as he bent low over her ear.

“I am not your Angeline. And you’ve had about all you are going to get of me, my lord,” she countered harshly, trying to stem the sensation of heat the feel of his manhood always seemed to instill in her.

“I doubt that, my lady.” Geoffrey scoffed at her as he left to pull a blanket from his saddle. He spread it out near the waters, then returned for a basket also strapped to his horse. In moments, he laid out a bottle of fine champagne, two crystal flutes, a bowl of early strawberries and another of clotted cream.

Then he returned to her side while remarking, “You have so many more lessons to learn, my dear. We have only just begun. Come, sit down on the blanket.” He pulled her to the temporary nest he had created in the glade.

“I have learned quite enough,” Angeline retorted. “I see no need for more lessons,” she protested while resisting her inevitable movement toward the blanket since his strength was much greater than hers.

“Sit,” he commanded.

“No,” she refused.

In one quick action, Geoffrey used his foot to sweep her feet from under her, causing her rapid descent to the ground. To save her further pain, he placed his large palms on each globe of her lush posterior. He controlled her landing, then held his weight above her, his face inches from her own.

“Madam,” he cautioned, “I do not take no for an answer.” He squeezed her backside gently then released her to sit down by the champagne, berries and cream.

Angeline sat up in a huff, glaring at her abductor. “I am truly tired of your proprietary attitude, my lord. It will not do.”

“After last night, my lady, you are mine to command,” he returned cocksure as he neatly popped the cork from the bottle.

Angeline jumped from the startling sound. “Never, my lord, never will I be yours to command. Not in your wildest dreams. I will always remain my own person.”

Ignoring her current protest, Geoffrey poured two glasses of the bubbly libation, then handed one to his unwilling guest. After Angeline took the glass, he raised his to hers while toasting, “To
us
.”

“I think not.”

He clinked his glass to hers anyway, then took a large swallow, momentarily holding it in his mouth to appreciate its taste. “There is nothing like the taste of a fine champagne. Do not you agree, my angel? Except maybe the taste of you. But then, we haven’t had that lesson yet,” he teased as he dipped a strawberry into the cream.

Angeline’s blush rose from her breast to spread across her chest. Heat invaded her again. “You’ve had all the taste you shall get of me, my lord. I dare say you are not listening.”

Ignoring her, Geoffrey leaned forward with the cream-laden berry, brushing it tenderly against her lips. “Do you like the cream, my angel?” his eyes, hot and very green, steady upon hers.

Angeline’s breath caught with the heat of his gaze. “Yes, my lord,” she almost whispered in return as her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the sweet confection.

“Open wide, Angeline,” he commanded. When she did so, he popped the berry into her mouth. “Let me feed you berries, Angeline,” he coaxed her. “It will be ever so pleasant. . .for the both of us. Would you like a lot of the cream?” He smiled warmly at her, the glint back in his green eyes, as if there was some secret meaning she was missing yet again.

“Yes, Geoffrey,” she relented, “a lot of the cream,” as she received another berry.

“Angeline, I greatly enjoyed our lovemaking last night. I cannot remember when I have had such a passionate partner. And I have had my share of partners. You are so warm, so willing, so very responsive, my angel. Being inside you is surely as close to heaven as I will get here on Earth,” confessed the marquess.

“Your language, sir, is much too. . .too. . .forward.”

“But, Angeline, you are my lover now; surely I can say anything to you. Do not these saucy phrases excite you? The thought of me inside you, does it make you wet once again?” Without her permission, Geoffrey slid his hand under her skirts, up her legs to the soft patch of fur at her nether regions. Still without hesitation, he slid a finger between her cleft to nestle into the soft wet heat he found there. “You are wet for me, Angeline. Ready for me even now,” he whispered, his eyes hot, his breathing growing ragged.

Angeline had been sipping her champagne then chewing a strawberry when his quick, sure movements came upon her. She gasped with his intimacies, embarrassed by the truth of his words and the telltale signs of her body confessing her desires, her needs.

“We could make love here, my angel. It is private. No one will see us,” assured the marquess.

“No.
No
!” protested Angeline as she tried to push his hand away from her woman’s center. “We mustn’t. And I am sore. You are too much. You are too large. I should not have to handle a man your size.”

“You are only new at the game, my love. You will not be sore for long, then you will yearn to feel the pleasure my cock can bring you once more. In the meantime, our next lesson will be a little different. I promise.”

“There can be no more lessons. I want none of it; I will not come tonight,” Angeline confessed to him.

“Our champagne is finished, our berries eaten, it is time I escort you back. But I will wait for you in the cottage tonight. I will be ready when you arrive,” Geoffrey assured her warmly as he rose to his feet, then extended his hand to help her up. His smile was all seduction and knowing, a Cheshire cat grin.

“Do not wait for me, my lord, for I will not come,” she vowed.

Geoffrey escorted Angeline home. After dismounting, he came round to lift her from her saddle to place her lightly on the ground. But he did not release her. He left one arm round her and held her close as he raised her face with his thumb and forefinger. She could smell her own scent on his fingertips.

“I enjoyed our afternoon together, Angeline. I always enjoy my time with you. I will hardly wait for you to come to me tonight.” He brushed his lips over hers, then let her go to remount his Arabian.

“I will not come, your lordship.” Angeline held the mare’s ribbons in her hand as she called after him. Realizing he was leaving the mare, she shouted, “Wait, your horse. You’re leaving her behind.”

Geoffrey stopped his progress and turned back to her. “She is yours, my Angeline. I bought her just for you. Her name is Aphrodite. What better than the Greek goddess of love and beauty for you? I plan to breed her with my stallion, Zeus.” He patted the neck of the black horse he straddled. “They both have fine bloodlines and their offspring will give us a stable of quality horses. Until tonight, my lady.” He reared the black, then rode away at breakneck speed toward Colburn Park.

Again without the last word, Angeline turned the ribbons over to the stable lad who had come running up as Geoffrey rode away.

She sighed heavily and headed for the house.

The stalwart butler greeted Geoffrey at the front door with a quick bow. “I have news for you, my lord. I think I know who the father is,” he whispered.

“Give over, Graham. What have you learned?”

In conspiratorial tones, the manservant continued, “I have kept a close watch, your lordship. Brenda goes to the stables more than is necessary. She goes when she thinks no one is watching and she stays longer than propriety holds decent.”

Graham closed the door behind the marquess, then continued, “The head stable boy is only eighteen, my lord, and he supports his mother, a younger brother and two younger sisters. It is just as she told you the other day, he makes not enough money to take her to wife as well.”

Geoffrey rubbed his hand across his chin. “He is good with the horses, no, Graham?”

“Yes, my lord. He has been working in our stable since he was two and ten years old. He learned from the ostler before him who died about two years ago.”

“And the late Lord Colburn did not hire another to run the stable?”

“Well, my lord, I would not be privy to such information as to why, but there has been no ostler since the last passed on.”

“Is there another lad senior to this chap, what is his name?”

“Lester, my lord. He has been here longer than any other and the horses have thrived under his hand. The late lord never had a complaint about his studs or mares and there have been a number of quality foals, as well.”

“Thank you, Graham, for this piece of news. I will look further into it. Do you know how our Brenda is getting on?”

“My lord, she is as big as a house. I cannot but imagine she will see her time soon.”

“Then I must make my plans as well.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Geoffrey went to his library to research his past stable employees, how much they earned, and how long they had been employed. If things worked out, he would see to it the young lovers married and had enough to live on. Even if Lester had to continue to support his mother and siblings.

It was the right thing to do.