She glanced down at her floating breasts and when she saw her nipples were erect like tiny spears and visible through her almost transparent petticoat, she blushed profusely. “You can let go now and I’ll swim back.”
He withdrew his hands from hers and glided beside her. They swam together for a few yards. When the water splashed into her face, she grabbed for him and slid her arms about his neck. Her eyes widened in accusation. “You are naked!”
“Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”
“I am not your sweetheart,” she protested breathlessly.
He stroked her glistening cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Shall I persuade you that you are?” He took possession of her lips and after the slightest hesitation she closed her eyes and yielded her mouth to him. As the entire length of their bodies touched beneath the water, she also yielded control to him.
His hands moved to cup her bottom. “Wrap your legs about me, Velvet.” His voice roughened with arousal.
Slowly, with great daring, she opened her knees and straddled his narrow hips. She could feel his swollen sex cradled against her mons, with only the thin fabric of her petticoat between their naked bodies. She looked into his eyes and saw the raw need smoldering and smoky within their depths. Without a doubt she knew that this man found her physically alluring and for the first time in her life she felt like a desirable woman. Velvet opened her lips to him in wanton invitation and Greysteel took all she offered and then his hungry mouth demanded more.
She clung to him feeling deliciously boneless and Greysteel, cradling her against him, walked slowly from the water. She unwrapped her legs and slid down his naked body until her toes touched the grass. Her lush breasts rose and fell as she took deep breaths to try to steady her wildly beating heart. ʺYou . . . we must dress,” she panted, and closed her eyes.
He stepped away from her and watched her turn blindly toward her clothes. He slipped on his breeches, picked up his shirt and advanced toward her as she stood in her soaking wet petticoat with her back toward him. He lifted the ends of her dripping hair and rubbed them with his shirt. Then he dried her neck, slid the petticoat down from her shoulders and gently dried her back. He dipped his head to kiss her ear and, at the same time, pulled down the wet garment from her breasts. He wrapped his damp shirt about her shoulders and pulled her back against him. “You are so lovely, you take my breath away.”
Words from Bess’s journal floated through her head.
Any man worth his salt can get a woman out of her clothes before she can say him nay!
Velvet gasped as his arms slid about her and he cupped her bare breasts with his powerful, calloused hands. “My great-grandmother warned me about men like you,” she whispered.
“Bess Hardwick was a connoisseur of men.”
“She certainly wasn’t afraid of marriage,” she murmured.
“Are you afraid of marriage, Velvet?”
ʺYes . . . no. I don’t know.”
He turned her to face him and looked down into her lovely emerald eyes. “Are you afraid of me, Velvet?”
ʺMayhap . . . I’m afraid of feeling passion for you, yet more afraid of not feeling passion. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Lord God, it matters not. I can conjure enough passion for us both. Put on your riding dress before I lose all control.”
They returned separately for propriety’s sake. In the stables she unsaddled Raven, but Alfred insisted that he would give her palfrey a rubdown. “She drank from the lake and cropped quite a bit of grass.” Velvet blushed at how long they had lingered out there, and retrieved the rolled-up wet petticoat from her saddlebags.
She went upstairs to remove her riding clothes and Emma came into her chamber.
“You missed lunch. I was starting to worry.”
“Lunch?” She smiled a secret smile. “Never thought of it.”
Greysteel tapped on her door and walked in. He was wearing a wet shirt. “Ladies, allow me to light the fire I set for you.”
She watched him kneel and in less than thirty seconds he had an inviting fire blazing in the hearth. “Thank you, my lord, that is most thoughtful of you.” Her eyes sparkled with delight as she watched him retreat. Velvet sat to remove her boots and roll off her damp stockings.
Emma’s eyes were big as saucers. “Did he tell you?”
Velvet undid the buttons on her green bodice. “Tell me?”
“Did Lord Montgomery tell that he owns Roehampton?”
Her fingers stopped in midair. “Where did you hear such?”
“Mrs. Clegg—Bertha—told me that I could pick any of the vegetables in the garden that were ripe. I spent a delightful hour out there and when I returned to the kitchen, she was bursting to tell me that Lord Montgomery had arrived. ‘Isn’t it the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?’ she asked me. ‘His lordship has bought Roehampton because his betrothed has fallen in love with the Elizabethan Manor.’”
“I find that difficult to believe.” Velvet stood up and ran to the door. “But I shall soon find out.”
She flung open his bedchamber door without knocking and walked in. She found Greysteel naked to the waist and saw that he had hung his shirt to dry before his own fire. She raised furious eyes to his and demanded, “Is it true?”
There was absolutely no point in his pretending he didn’t understand what she was asking. Though he wished it were otherwise, someone had told her. He answered her question by asking another. “Do you want it to be true, Velvet?”
The question caught her off-balance.
Do I want him to own Roehampton?
“Did Christian Cavendish really sell it to you?”
“When we were here together, I did my utmost to persuade her. She refused, but miraculously changed her mind the next day.”
“You devil! Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked down at her bare feet and felt her vulnerability. He took a step toward her. “Do you want the truth, Velvet?”
“Of course I want the truth. Men are so devious, I wonder if you are capable of the truth!”
“I bought the estate because I knew you had fallen in love with it. I thought it would persuade you to marry me. I didn’t tell you because suddenly I was jealous of the passion you felt for this house. I wanted to be sure you were attracted to me, Greysteel, not Lord Montgomery, owner of Roehampton.”
Velvet’s fury dissolved. She looked at his powerful naked muscles and blushed. “I think I gave ample proof of that.” She curled her toes into the plush carpet. “I feel rather foolish, accusing you of trespassing when I am the one doing it.”
He grinned. “I forgive you your trespasses.”
Roehampton can be mine. All I have to do is marry him. Careful, Velvet . . . he hasn’t asked you yet.
Though she tried to banish them, Bess Hardwick’s words insinuated themselves into her thoughts:
The most compelling reason to marry is property; the second is pregnancy. Love takes a distant third place.
“I intended to return to London tonight, since it’s so close, but once I learned you were here, wild horses couldn’t drag me away. I long to play indulgent host, Velvet. Will you dine with me up here tonight, where we can banish the world?”
She caught her breath.
She who hesitates is lost. Cast the die quickly.
“I should like it above all things,” she conceded.
He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, bestowing a gallant kiss. His eyes held a promise of what was to come.
Dear God, was it only last night that I wondered if I could tempt Greysteel into making love to me?
“Until later, then.”
Back in her room, Velvet flung open her wardrobe door and studied the dresses she’d brought. “It’s true, Emma. Lord Montgomery
is
the new owner of Roehampton.”
“So I take it you are going to wed him?”
“Since we are betrothed, we are expected to marry.”
Emma rolled her eyes. She had guessed that Velvet couldn’t resist the dark, dominant noble for long, despite her protests.
“Greysteel invited me to dine privately with him tonight. I want to wear my most flattering gown.”
“Did you go in the lake in your petticoat? I found it wringing-wet. It’s the only one you brought.”
“I’ll manage without,” Velvet said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to go without underclothes. Yet her cheeks turned pink at the consequences she imagined.
She deliberately plucked her most tempting dress from the wardrobe. It was a delicate lavender silk creation.
Greysteel is planning to seduce me tonight, but God help him, he is the one who will be seduced. I have a flagrant fondness for Roehampton!
Chapter Eight
G
reysteel carried the dinner tray upstairs, which Mrs. Clegg had loaded down with mouthwatering food. Buttered marrow, glazed parsnips and crisp roasted potatoes accompanied a plump pheasant with chestnut dressing. The cook also had made them a trifle of light sponge cake, fruit, custard and thick clotted cream. A bottle of golden Canary wine was tucked beneath his arm.
He set all down on a small table he had carried up to his chamber earlier along with a pair of carved armchairs. Then he tapped on Velvet’s door. “Dinner is here. Are you hungry?”
Velvet licked lips gone suddenly dry and studied her reflection in the mirror with an anxious eye. Without the fullness of a petticoat, the lavender silk outlined the contours of her body enticingly. She feared that she looked decidedly bold, yet knew it excited her to be daring. Heeding Bess’s advice, she had purposely left her hair uncovered in a deliberate attempt to lure Greysteel to touch it.
A man lusts to taste that which he has touched. One taste and he won’t be satisfied until he has devoured you whole!
She opened the door and smiled. “Yes, I’m hungry. Are you?”
His glance roamed over her possessively. “Ravenous.”
“The aroma of Bertha’s food is tantalizing. I can’t wait.”
“Anticipation whets the appetite, and patience is a virtue.”
“I have virtue aplenty, though I doubt you can claim any.” She threw him a teasing look. “Lead on and I shall follow.”
They were playing with words, choosing those that added titillation to the intimacy of dining alone together in his bedchamber. He led her inside, closed the door and watched as she moved to the fire.
“Your shirt dried quickly.”
“You sound regretful. I can remove it, if you like.”
She turned to face him. “Conceited devil.” She watched avidly as his fingers undid the buttons. “Bold with it too.”
As she stood before the fire, he could see the outline of her slender curves through the delicate silk. “And who’s the bold little wench who left off her petticoat?”
“Blame yourself. You declared it a pity that females wear more garments than males. I’m attempting to be fair.”
“I’ll gladly accept the blame for your dishabille if it banishes your guilt tonight, Velvet. Come, let us eat.” He pulled out a carved chair for her. “If I have my way, and I usually do, the food will be the prelude to a memorable encounter we will remember always.”
She walked slowly to the chair he held. The way his intense grey eyes studied her made her feel beautiful. When she sat down he bent and dropped a kiss on top of her head, then caressed her hair with his hand. A small frisson of delight ran down her back, making her shiver.
The first touch of many!
Greysteel took the chair opposite, lifted the silver cover and began to carve the game bird. He took her plate, served her with the choicest pieces, then handed it back and allowed her to choose the rest for herself.
Her first taste brought a rapturous look to her face. “We are so lucky to have such delicious food. Fare like this was unavailable when we lived in exile at Saint-Germain.”
“I don’t like to think of you being deprived, Velvet.”
“Knowing we were sacrificing for Charles made it bearable. What about you? I warrant army fare was nothing like this.”
“We seldom dined on pheasant stuffed with chestnuts,” he admitted, but did not elaborate on how difficult it had been to feed his men. Watching Velvet eat gave him great pleasure. She had such dainty habits, yet at the same time relished her food with great delight. He poured two glasses of golden wine and felt her hand brush against his when she took one from him. He smiled into her eyes and offered a toast. “May you have everything you desire, tonight and always.”
After a few sips, she set it down and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. His imagination soared, mentally arousing him. When she dipped her finger into her wine and licked it, he became physically aroused.
Her gestures inflame my senses.
They finished the main course and she helped herself to the trifle, relishing every mouthful. When Greysteel didn’t take any, she said, “I love sweet desserts. Aren’t you tempted?”
“Tempted beyond endurance,” he acknowledged. He arose from his chair and moved around the table, and then he scooped her up and slid beneath her, so that she was sitting in his lap.
“That was rather impulsive of you,” she said breathlessly.
“Not really. I planned the maneuver to coincide with dessert, knowing you would be distracted.”
“Your courtship resembles a military campaign, Captain. You have besieged my defenses from the beginning.”
“Hoping to avoid a battle,” he said softly. “Once I have disarmed you, you will realize that resistance is futile.”
She dipped her finger into the trifle dish and lifted the cream to his lips in blatant temptation. He succumbed to the bait and licked it. “I believe you just surrendered. The roles of captor and captive are now reversed.” She wriggled her bottom into a more provocative position, which made his arousal throb, and slipped her hands inside his unbuttoned shirt.
“Would you plunder a defenseless prisoner?” he growled.
“Defenseless?” Her hands stroked the slabs of muscle on his hard chest. “I warrant you have a weapon hidden belowstairs.” Velvet licked her lips and her fingertips circled his nipples.