His Wicked Seduction (25 page)

“You’re right. But then who will be strong for you?” She gave a hiccupy laugh and pulled back to look up at him. “You are such a good brother, Cedric.” She gently extricated herself from his embrace and he let her go.

Horatia approached her vanity and laughed at her mussed, wild, appearance. “Heavens, I look dreadful.”

“Horatia, I’m afraid we must talk about something.”

“Oh dear. I never like it when you use that tone. It makes me nervous.” She tried to tease but her heart was not in it.

“You said Lucien found you and he stayed with you and watched over you last night.”

“Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“With another man, I might demand marriage if I felt he might have taken advantage of you.”

“But not Lucien?” she asked, reading his tone correctly.

“No. That’s why I am here. I know you still harbor some strong feelings for him and it has made me wonder whether Lucien has used them against you.”

“Cedric, what exactly are you asking me?” Horatia demanded in frustrated exhaustion.

“Has he used you ill? You must tell me at once. I cannot allow him to do so.”

“No. He has not.” Horatia was slow to answer, but Cedric could not tell if she was deceiving him or not.

“I would not be angry with you if he had. Your feelings for him put you at a disadvantage. They make you vulnerable and he is cruel enough to—”

“Lucien is not cruel,” Horatia protested. “He is your friend!”

“And I know him far better than you. Must I remind you of his treatment of you for the last seven years? He’s done nothing but spurn you at every turn. Why you feel anything for him is beyond me.”

“Cedric, if he changed—if he returned my feelings, if he cared about me, would you allow us to marry?” Horatia was never tentative, never hesitant about anything, yet now her very being seemed fragile and delicate.

“It would not matter what his feelings or affections were. I could never allow it,” Cedric said bluntly.

“But why? Would it not be more to your liking to have a close friend as a brother-in-law?” Again she spoke with that damned hesitancy.

“Pick any man in all of England, but not
him
. I won’t allow any sister of mine to be subjected to his desires. You know nothing about his amorous past, the countless mistresses, the nights at brothels. Not as I do. Even if I could overlook all of that, I could not forget how he treated you all these years, nor stop fearing that he might do it again later on. I am the head of our family. If I say you cannot marry Lucien, then you will accept my judgment and move on. Find a man more worthy of you.”

“Why are you so quick to condemn him? Lucien has only ever supported you.” Her words stung and Cedric wished he could silence her. “Need I remind you he was the one who brought me home that day when Mama and Papa died? He was the one who saved me, Cedric, and consoled you! To me that means something and if you are blind enough not to see his worth then please leave my room at once. We have nothing further to say to one another.” Horatia marched over to her bedroom door and waited for him to leave.

He stopped halfway in the hall, studying her. Did she think that she could go against his commands? Surely she wouldn’t be so brazen. He had to make it clear, she couldn’t be with Lucien. That was final.

“You don’t know him like I do, Horatia. He does things to his women that…well, I don’t want to happen to you.”

Her sudden blush had his anger rise like a tidal wave.

“What does it matter to you? What if I like the way I feel when I’m with him?”

Cedric pointed a finger at her. “You know nothing of his true self. As a friend, I can tolerate his behavior, even understand it, and I know there are those who would be more agreeable to his tastes. But you as a wife would not know happiness with him.”

Horatia’s eyes darkened with anger. “Not know happiness? Cedric, I
love
him. With every breath in my body, I belong to him and he to me. You cannot change that. It is done.”

Did that mean what he thought? Had Horatia and Lucien…?

“My God,” he breathed, stepping back. “You’ve been with him, haven’t you?”

She didn’t blink. Didn’t say a word. She just gave one small but firm nod and his heart sank. If only she knew what Lucien was like, how he enjoyed tying up his women to the bed and dominating them and more. Horatia wasn’t the sort of woman to want that in her life. But she was besotted. How could he break the spell?

“I meant what I said, Horatia. You will not marry him and if you think to let him drag you off to Gretna Green you will no longer be welcome in my house or my estates. You will be a stranger to me. Is that understood?”

It was a bluff, he could never disown her…but he couldn’t have her thinking he would allow her to marry such a man.

“You have such a cold heart. No, I take that back. You have no heart at all,” Horatia whispered sadly, her dark brown eyes misting with tears as she shut the door.

“Pardon me, my lord, do you require anything?” a footman asked as he walked out of a chamber close by, carrying fresh linens.

“Actually, yes.” He paused studying the footman. “Have you seen Miss Sheridan going off alone with Lord Rochester at any point since we arrived?”

The footman hesitated, licked his lips nervously. “I’m sorry, sir, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to speak of such matters. I hope you understand.”

“I do. Thank you.” The footman had as much as told him that Horatia and Lucien were meeting in secret.

There was nothing he could say to make his sister understand why she couldn’t be with Lucien. She was ensnared in his trap, and few options remained to him. Everything Cedric had done was to protect her, even if it was from his own friends. It was only then, when he saw a passing footman carrying holly boughs, that he remembered today was Christmas Eve.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The dining room was uncomfortably quiet that morning. Horatia ate only because she did not know what else to do. And even this she prolonged by prodding her food from one side of her plate to the other. Lady Rochester tried to engage her in conversation but Horatia’s heart was too bruised to answer Lady Rochester’s polite inquiries with much enthusiasm.

Horatia’s gaze was torn between her brother at the far end of the table and Lucien who sat two seats away. It should have been a wonderful, joyous morning. She was a woman now, had crossed that threshold from innocent maiden to sensual goddess in Lucien’s arms last night, yet she felt robbed of her happiness. Cedric’s decree that she must choose left an unsettling pit in her stomach.

She raised her eyes from her plate to find Lucien watching her every move. All of the pain of her brother’s words seem to fade. She made her decision. She would give Lucien time, let him decide how he felt. If in the end he wanted her then she would be with him. She loved Cedric and Audrey but someday Audrey would marry. Perhaps even Cedric would marry. If she chose them, she’d end up alone. And denying Lucien was like denying her body from breathing.

Lady Rochester at last broke that uncomfortable silence. “As you all know, tonight is Christmas Eve. In order to lighten our spirits, I believe we ought to exchange gifts this evening after dinner. Is that agreeable?” There were murmurs of assent and refreshed smiles. Horatia caught Lucien’s eye and he offered her a secretive smile that warmed her blood. Footmen came to collect the plates and everyone rose to go about their day.

Horatia lingered in the hallway watching the flurry of activity with amusement until a footman approached her.

“Pardon me, Miss Sheridan. His lordship bade me to deliver this note to you and to show you a secret way to reach him when you are ready.” He slid a slip of paper into her hand discreetly.

“Thank you, Gordon.” She took shelter in a nearby alcove to read the note in peace.

Come to our cottage, my little stargazer.

Horatia’s body began to hum with the promise of that single line.

Gordon cleared his throat. “If need be, I’ve been instructed to show you a passageway that would get you outside without the rest of the house being aware of it.”

“Yes, I would appreciate that.” She retrieved her cloak and made her way to the passageway that led to the gardens. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure she was not being followed, then quickly made her way to the distant gardener’s cottage. The chimney of the cottage already puffed with fresh smoke, an inviting place of refuge. She found the door unlocked and the sight inside made her pulse race. Crimson petals littered the entry way and down the hall to the bedroom. The scent of orchids and other flowers filled her senses.

“Lucien?” she called out nervously.

“In the bedroom, love. Come to me.” His sensual voice spurred her onward. She found him waiting in a chair by the fire as she entered the room. The flowers she’d smelled coming inside covered every surface. Horatia felt guilty even stepping on the petals that surrounded her lover and the bed like a crimson moat.

“How did you manage all of this?” she asked in admiration. “How did you find the time?”

“After I escorted you back to the hall, I roped a few footmen into helping me raid my mother’s hothouse for the best flowers and had them brought here. You deserve for it to be warm and sunny and full of flowers, but I’m afraid this is the best I can manage in the middle of an English winter.” Lucien stood, but she sensed the nervousness in him, as though he feared she would not appreciate his efforts.

“Oh Lucien, it is so beautiful!” She gave a bright and honest smile as she dropped her cloak on the floor, causing petals to ripple outward. She tiptoed her way across to him, gently put a hand on his chest and shoved him back down into his chair. His breath quickened when she slid onto his lap and wrapped her arms about his neck. Lucien waited as she leaned into him, rewarding him with a kiss. He growled in soft pleasure as her lips met his, but he ended the kiss too quickly.

“I have a present for you.” He gestured towards the bed. It was only then that Horatia spied the large box sitting in the center of it.

“But we are to open our presents tonight,” she reminded him in what she hoped was an admonishing tone. He merely dropped his head and nibbled her throat until she was ready to agree to anything he might ask.

“This gift is one I cannot give to you in front of others. Go ahead, my love. Open it now.”

He gently set her on her feet and propelled her towards the bed. Horatia lifted the top off the cream box and peeled back the thin paper to reveal the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen. It was then that she remembered what he’d told her before—that he’d bought her a gown to replace the one that had been ruined.

The idea of the gown, which she’d once believed Lucien had bought to strike back at Waverly’s attack, had a vastly different meaning now. She pulled out the gown and held it up to see it in its full glory. A melody of red and green silk with Belgian lace and delicate embroidery unfolded before her. A sprig of faux mistletoe decorated the décolletage in an almost scandalous manner. Lucien certainly had a hand in creating this, that was certain.

“Well?” Lucien asked, standing behind her. Heat emanated off him in intoxicating waves. Horatia briefly shut her eyes, savoring this private moment of paradise.

“It is too expensive. You ought not to have spent so much on me.” Despite her chastising she clutched the gown to her chest and turned to face him, making it clear she would not willingly give back the gift.

Lucien’s lips slid into a crooked smile. “If you believe it too valuable…I can always allow you to repay me in favors.”

“Hmm…and what would these favors be, exactly?” Horatia wanted to sound like a cool and confident woman bargaining her charms, but she was unable to hide her desire.

“For one gown, I will charge you this morning and afternoon between the sheets. I demand tangled limbs, moans of pleasure and wild abandon.” He plucked the dress from her hands, folded it and nestled it back into the box with a tenderness that had Horatia’s body weak-kneed with pleasure, then set it on the floor out of the way.

“You wish to be paid now?” Horatia half-giggled until she saw the predatory look on his face. The savage lust in his eyes knocked the air from her lungs.

“Surrender to me now, Horatia. Let me have you a thousand ways, a thousand times.” It was as close to pleading as Lucien had ever come and it aroused her in a way she had not expected.

She craved the power to make him plead, not from pain, but from desire and the need to control this passion, allowing it to slip only when she chose to. It was how he’d made her feel that night at the Midnight Garden and she wanted to experience it herself, before giving in to him again. When he looked at her like that it was like she was the last woman he would ever kiss, the only woman who would ever light the fire in his eyes and perhaps one day his heart…

“If you want me, it is you who will surrender to me, I think. I will have control.” Suddenly she was holding out a hand and demanding the red silk she knew he kept on him. In a wordless look of surprise he turned the ribbons over to her. She pointed to his shirt and vest.

“Remove them,” she commanded.

Lucien did so, but Horatia raised a hand. “Not too quickly now.” Lucien’s expression was dark and unreadable as she slowed down his movements. “Your boots next.” Again he obeyed without a word, careful to take his time. Once he was clad only in his trousers, which hugged his muscled thighs like lovers, Horatia pointed to the bed.

“Lie on your back. Spread your arms.”

He did as she commanded, and Horatia bit her lip as she watched the muscles of his back ripple like the sleek coat of a panther. He laid back and waited for her to come to him. With surprisingly steady hands she took one of his wrists and secured it to one bedpost. She brushed a few fingertips along his bicep, and his muscles twitched beneath her as she moved around to secure his other wrist. She left his legs free so he might have some mobility but no chance of flipping them over to be on top. He tested the bonds experimentally, his eyes still inscrutable.

When Horatia was satisfied that he could not get free, she positioned herself at the end of the bed and began to undress herself. Thankfully the gown she wore buttoned down the front. Lucien’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips and Horatia imagined that tongue licking her but only if she allowed herself to be within reach. She had never felt so powerful, so aware of her hold over a man before.

With Lucien this felt right; she could do no wrong with him and he would never judge her again for sins not of her making. It was a freeing thought, to know that he was here with her and they were unburdened by the darkness of their past.

Once the gown was unbuttoned, she peeled it off her shoulders and slid it down off her hips in a teasingly slow move that had Lucien testing the strength of his bonds and bucking against the mattress. She dropped the gown to the floor and started to remove her stays and petticoats. Lucien’s face flushed as she stood there, wearing nothing more than her chemise. Her breasts felt heavy and the nipples budded against the sheer fabric. Horatia caressed herself, enjoying the feel of her own hands along her body as much as the way it tortured Lucien.

She’d learned much about lovemaking in the few hours he’d had to teach her. They’d talked late into the night about the things a man and woman could do together. Horatia was intent on exploring some of those things now.

“Let me touch you, love,” he begged. “Let me cup those perfect breasts.”

“Silence, my lord.”

She walked to the edge of the bed and climbed up between his spread legs. Horatia crawled over his body until she reached his mouth and she kissed him, thrusting her tongue deep, but withdrawing before he could catch it with his lips. Then she moved to his left ear, sucking on his lobe. Lucien groaned and writhed beneath her. She could feel the tension in his body, the need to capture her with his arms, but he was unable to do so. Lucien, the Marquess of Rochester, was at her mercy and it was good, so good.

“Be still, my lord, or you will be punished.” She bit his neck playfully.

“Oh God!” he hissed. His erection strained between their bodies, even contained as it was by his trousers. Horatia eased a palm over the bulge, a slow exploring stroke that sent Lucien into a string of muttered curses. Horatia grinned and pressed another heated kiss to his lips. Then, inspired, she tweaked one of his nipples. He jolted up off the bed in response.

“Christ, woman! I’ll be done if you do that again!”

“No, you won’t. If you come before I say, then I’ll stop and leave you here until you are ready to obey me.” Horatia repeated the action on his other nipple, but this time with her teeth. He endured silently, tensing beneath her. She was satisfied that he kept his control, but her real satisfaction lay in torturing him. This was for every dark mocking smile he’d sent her way, for every punishing kiss, every rough caress meant to frighten her away from him. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She would be his master.

Kissing her way down his chest, licking the taut planes of his grooved abdomen, she reached his trousers and began to unfasten them. When she freed him, his length sprang to full attention before her. She took the rigid organ in her hands, and with a chuckle she licked the hard length of him and circled her tongue around his tip. Lucien threw his head back, eyes shut, gasping as he sought to fight his body’s response. The bed creaked as he tugged at his restraints.

“You may accept your pleasure now, my lord. I will allow it,” she said before she took him fully in her mouth. She’d never done such a thing before, but she’d heard the upstairs maids talking about it and she decided it was worth taking a chance. He certainly seemed to enjoy it. He murmured encouragement and was barely able to breathe as he raised his hips towards her mouth.

“Yes, there, God yes! Don’t stop. Please my love, don’t stop…” Lucien’s head thrashed back against the pillow as she sucked and licked him.

Shaking violently, he came in her mouth with a desperate shout. Surprise rippled through her as she tasted him. He was hers and she took a deeply carnal pleasure from that. Lucien’s breath was fast as he slowly regained his composure, but Horatia was nowhere near done with him. She moved back up his body and claimed his mouth while her hands moved to his wrists and held them down tight.

“Who do you belong to, Lucien?” she asked between hot, drugging kisses.

“You my love. Only you.” He answered without hesitation, his body relaxed beneath hers. His hazel eyes were still unfathomably dark but they held an unyielding truth behind them.

“Never forget that in this moment you were mine.” She brushed her lips along his before she untied the silk and freed him. He lay beneath her for a time, unmoving as he recovered from his release.

“I’ve never trusted a woman to do what you’ve just done to me before,” he said at last.

“Really?” Horatia, body still sprawled across his, looked down at him in surprise.

“I’ve never been able to relinquish control before. I never thought it possible. You’re the first.” There was an importance to this, but the full depth of it was beyond her at the moment. Her mind was too foggy with the passion they’d shared.

“And now, it is my turn.” With a seductive smile, he rolled her beneath him, pulled her chemise over her head and tossed it away. Lucien captured her hands and tied her wrists together above her head, securing them to one bedpost. This position forced her breasts to rise up and her back to arch beneath him. He drew his fingertip along the seam of her lips and then down her throat to her breasts. That same fingertip teased circles around her nipple before he dropped his mouth to its peak. He bit the bud and Horatia gasped in both pain and pleasure.

“See how hard it is to control yourself when someone does that? I ought to punish you, my love, for being so bloody innocent that you nearly killed me with want.” His warm breath fanned her skin before he dropped his head to her other breast, suckling and biting until Horatia was trembling.