Eloisa James - Duchess by Night (23 page)

Jem was a much prettier package than her late husband. He even seemed to listen to herbut he thought she was a man. And if he knew she was a woman, would he be teaching her fencing?

Not likely. Or, as Harry Cope might say, Not damned likely.

Povy left and Jem said, Now wel clean your blister.

I can do it by myself, Harriet said. She washed her hand careful y, with soap, and dried it on the fresh towel Povy had left.

We cant play our match unless you bind up that hand, Jem said.

It hurts at the moment, she said, shrugging. Tomorrow, perhaps.

Youre not worried about a little blister, are you? Al we have to do is bind it up.

We dont have any cloth, she began but he was circling her, rapier in hand.

What are you doing? she asked, not real y alarmed. There was a dancing light in his eyes, a deep sense of laughter that made her treacherous heart thump.

Looking for bandages.

I cant imagine

Flick! His rapier sang through the air and one of the buttons on her shirt skittered away across the floor.

Her mouth fel open.

Flick!

Harriet put her hands on her hips and gave him a ferocious scowl. Just what do you think youre doing? If youre planning on cutting up my shirt, I volunteer yours instead!

Cant do that, he said promptly. My shirts are spe cial y woven for me in the Caucasus mountains by three-legged goats.

It wouldnt surprise me. Nevertheless, my shirt is not bandage-making material, for al its made of English linen.

Soft, white, easily cut, he said. Why

And with one flicker of his rapier, he cut a slash down the front of her shirt.

Quick as she could, Harriet clutched together the two sides. How dare you! she shouted furiously. No one unclothes me without my express permission. Are you mad?

He had two responses to that. First he threw back his head and laughed. And then, rather more ominously, he turned the key in the lock.

Harriet fel back a step, suddenly remembering that she was Mr. Harry Cope, and that apparently Jem had decided to broaden his horizons bybyshe could hardly think. This couldnt be happening. Why, she was certain he was just joking.

Jem prowled toward her, silent in his stockings, a flicker in his eyes tel ing her that he was stil laughing, inside. Apparently this situation made him feel happy.

Harriet waited one more step and then made a break for the door.

She didnt even feel the slash that separated her shirt in the back. She only felt the swish of cool air and then the bil owing of her shirt. She shrieked, the enraged shriek of a female Viking and swung around into fighting position, wishing she had her rapier in hand.

How dare you destroy my clothing!

But he was laughing at her again. Youre such a very odd man, Harry.

Thats none of your business, she retorted, stepping back one step so that she was almost within reach of the key. You, sir, are a wanton reprobate. I know what youre thinking and I assure you that I have no interest inin being the object of your interest. You may wish to broaden your horizons, but I, sir, do not!

But Harry, he said softly, his gray eyes gleaming with something like excitement, something like joy, something thatthat she didnt know how to identify. Ive decided that I truly love men. Shameful y, I never joined those they cal mol ys. Now I see the error of my ways.

You can do whatever you wish, but not with me, Harriet managed. She had her hand on the key, but she kept her eyes on him, not knowing what would happen to her poor shirt if she turned around once more. As it was she could feel cool air al over her shoulders, though the bandages protected her breasts.

But I only want you, Jem said.

Women are so boring, he said softly, his thumb rubbing the line of her jaw. She jerked her head away. I had no idea how arousing it was to fence with someonewith you. It made up my mind. I never thought I was that sort of man, but for you, with you, Im going into new territory.

Not with me, she said though clenched teeth. Im not interested.

You wont be the Prince Charming who wil lead me into a whole new world?

No! she spat. She had her hand on the key, but there was something in his eyes that made her stop. He had a rapier in his hand and he was menacing her with God knows what kind of obscene behavior and yet her heart was fluttering like a debutantes at her first compliment.

Look, Im dropping my weapon, Jem said. The one that doesnt matter, anyway.

It happened very fast. He reached out a hand and wrenched.

The English linen failed her, fel into two pieces and off her shoulders as if it were nothing more than a rag.

Heat flashed through her body like a gift.

What have we here? he asked, desire making his voice husky. Those long fingers curled around the top layer of her bandage.

Before she could stop herself, her hand came up and covered his.

Bandages, he said quietly. His gray eyes drifted over her, claiming her, knowing her. Suddenly he fel back a step. Dont tel me!

Il never get to broaden my horizons now, wil I?

Her mouth fel open and then she saw the lines by his mouth deepen and realized with a giddy wave of pleasure that she, Harriet, knew what Lord Strange was feeling, even if no one else did.

He was laughing.

When did you find out? she demanded.

Mmmmm, he said. I always knew.

You didnt! she said, shivering, trying to ignore the touch of those clever long fingers as he unrol ed the cotton from her breasts, around and around.

Its like the best present I never had, he murmured.

When did you find out? she persisted, trying to stave off nervousness. What if he expected more than she had under those bandages? Someone more endowed?

I guessed in the stables, he said, grinning at her. And Vil iers confirmed it.

Vil iers! she cried. He unwound another circle and then she realized. The Latin!

Latin, he agreed. But he didnt sound interested. His eyes very dark, very intent, he gently took away the very last winding of bandage.

When Benjamin first saw her breasts, on their wedding night, he said that they were smal but that smal was just as good as large, and he hoped she agreed. She had agreed, because she was just grateful to discover that he wasnt disappointed.

Harriet looked down at herself, trying to see her breasts through Jems eyes.

They were smal . But they were perfectly shaped, like teardrops, Benjamin had said. It made her feel odd to even think of Benjamin, so she banished his name from her mind.

It must be my birthday indeed, Jem said softly. And then he reached out for her.

She thought he would take her breasts in his hands and rub them. That was what Benjamin would have done.

But Jem didnt touch her breasts. He pul ed her against him and his tongue curled into her mouth at the same moment. Harriet went rigid with surprise. Benjamin kissed her. Of course he did.

But he never

Sensations raced through her body as his tongue played a lazy game with hers. He was tasting her.

What are you doing? she managed.

He looked down at her. Kissing you. He took her mouth again, cupping her face in his hands, and she was ready this time and melted toward him. But he licked her lips, as if she were a delicious sweet, savored her, final y came to her like an old friend, like a cool drink.

That kiss

The kiss changed Harriet. She could feel it, changing her sinews and her bones, changing the essence of who Harriet was: a sad, tidy little widow from the country. But with that kiss singing in her bones, she wanted to dance. It raced through her blood and made her want to scream.

She kissed him back.

And this time it was he who pul ed back, breathing heavily. Damn, Harry, he said, whispering it, his voice a silken rasp in her ears. Tel menot that Im fooling myself that it wil make a damn bit of differencetel me youre not a virgin.

She cocked up a corner of her mouth.

He kissed her again, hard, and she could taste his gratitude. She felt it too. It hadnt been fun, being a virgin. In the first few months of marriage, she used to stay at bal s and musicales until she had black circles under eyes, until Benjamin was tottering with drink. She chal enged him to teach her chess and would listen for hours, prompting him to replay master moves with her, al to avoid the bedroom.

Because it hurt.

Even once it did get better, there had never been anything like the fierce desire that burned along her legs now, when Jem hadnt even touched her.

So she pul ed his head down to her and threw herself into learning the new sport, the kind of kissing thats done with tongues and wet mouths and intimacy.

It feels as if were talking, she murmured some time later.

We are, he said, kissing her sweetly. And then hard, fierce, so that she trembled, felt al female, every inch soft and desirous.

And stil he didnt touch her.

Let me put it this way, he said. If youre not a virgin, Harry, you sure as hel havent had much experience kissing.

Im a fast learner. She brushed her lips over his. How dare a man have that ful lower lip? It tantalized her.

So, he said, I just want to understand the rules.

This was pure Jem.

Useful knowledge? she said with a raised eyebrow.

No back talk from you, young Harry, he said. What is your name, by the way?

Harriet.

She saw the name settle in his mind, grow into a smile. I like it, he said.

I like Harry better.

Youre a virgin kisser, he said, but not a virgin otherwise.

I kissed before! Many times. Just notnot that kind.

That kind?

She had to show him what kind she meant, and they got distracted. Stil he didnt touch her, though, so she brazenly pul ed him close and put her body against his. He was speed and muscle and smooth skin. And she felt soft and curvy and delicious.

More so than ever in her life. More so than her wedding day, than her wedding night.

Harriet, he gasped.

Harry to you. She wiggled against him.

Im curious about the amount of experience youve had. That is, he gasped a little as she managed to rub against something that was making a lump in his breeches. And it wasnt a rol ed-up sock either. That is, are we talking about once or twice in a hay loft? Im just wondering

He broke off, probably because she was tired of him not touching her and it occurred to her that no one said there was a law that she shouldnt touch him . So she cupped him there.

I was married for years, she told him, loving the hardness, even through his breeches, the strangled noise he made in his throat, the way his hips arched a little toward her. Theres nothing I dont know about men.

He froze. Stil married? Because I am absurdly old-fashioned

You? You, the owner of a house known for its affaires ?

Ridiculous, isnt it?

Yes, she said. Luckily, Im a widow. She ran her hand down the front of his breeches again.

Good, he managed. Excel ent. I mean, Im so sorry to hear about your loss. And with that his hands came down from the door and slid down her back, leaving a trail of fire. You are a beautiful woman, he said. I knew you were beautiful. I thought you were the prettiest boy I ever met. But then when I realized you were a woman I knew you were the most beautiful woman I ever met.

It was so ridiculous that Harriet didnt even listen. Besides, he was stroking her, dragging his fingers over her flesh in little circles and movements that made her shiver and gasp. Especial y when he final y made his slow way to her breasts. He didnt grab them with endearing, if puppish enthusiasm, the kind of caress she was used to.

Instead he stroked them with his fingertips as if she were made out of glass, as if her skin were the most delicate silk in the world. His fingers sang across her skin.

Just like that, she lost the strength in her knees, but his arm was there to hold her up. Im sorry, he murmured, but I have to have a taste.

Ah

And then she was on the ground, being gently laid backwards on a little pile of discarded clothing: her ruined shirt, their jackets, his shirt. When his mouth touched her breast, it was as sleek and fiery as his fingers.

She moaned, head back, her fingers burrowing into his thick hair and pul ing it free from its ribbon.

He paid her no mind, kissing her over and over, lips brushing her bare skin until the caress was too much, until she started feeling as if she might start begging soon, crying.

Its time, she gasped, pul ing him up.

He laughed down at her. Married, and stil so quick to draw?

She arched backward and said, Please. Jem.

How long were you married? he asked, not touching her.

Years, she said impatiently.

Years with no child?

And she knew what he was saying. It was only a pulse of sadness: a second that passed. No need for a French letter, she said, making her voice cheerful.

So he came to her, braced above her, hair fal ing forward like silk around her face.

Harriet was used to making love: to the dry pul at the beginning that sometimes stung and hurt a little, giving way to a warming friction, to the delight of it. To the way a mans body felt in her arms, hot and slightly sweaty.

This was entirely different.

For one thing

Im not sure about this, she gasped. Wait a minute!

Anything for a lady, he said, leaning down to capture her lips again.

But she raised her neck and peered down between their bodies instead. She was right.

Um, Jem?

He managed to capture her in a kiss so fierce and sweet that she almost didnt notice what he was doing with his hips, but her body did.

Stop, she ordered. Wait! She was feelingshe wasnt even sure what she was feeling.

She peered down there again. What is that?

Last time I checked, Jem said, it was my favorite body part. Happiest body part. Dare I say itmy best body part.

Its She shut her mouth. What she was thinking was disloyal. But stil she peeked again. It had to be twice the size of Benjamins.