Page 33 of The Devil and the Heiress
“Do you go there?” she whispered.
He stared at her, astounded at her brazenness and how appealing it was. “I have, yes.” His voice was husky and thick with want. She blushed in response, and he knew that she was imagining such a scene. Was she his companion? “Would you like to go there?”
“I don’t know how I would. As I recall, your club doesn’t allow women.” Her shoulders squared, and she looked at him in defiance. He noted that she had avoided his question.
“You are misinformed. We have women members. Although, admittedly, they are few and their reputations are nothing to speak of.”
Her flare of indignation faded as quickly as it had appeared. “Oh.” She paused, taking in a breath as if preparing herself for something. The way this conversation had taken so many twists and turns, he wasn’t certain what to expect. “Do you recall when I kissed you?” Her gaze went to his mouth before settling on his eyes.
“Yes.” His voice was almost unrecognizable. His cockstand would certainly be noticeable to her if she dared to look. It became apparent that he needed to immediately remove himself from her presence, lest he convince her to do something she would likely regret at this point.
“What do you remember about it?” she whispered.
He nearly groaned at the desire in her voice. “How much I liked it.”
“You didn’t think me immature?”
“No.” Leaning forward, he let his fingertips rest on the back of her hand. She took in a little breath at the touch. Hewould be lying if he didn’t acknowledge the way his own blood sped at the simple contact. “Was that your first kiss?”
“No.”
Despite the fact that it was completely unwarranted, a flicker of jealousy flared inside him. “Your fiancé?”
“Yes.”
The brute inside him demanded he find out who had kissed her best, even though Christian had hardly kissed her at all before they had been interrupted. “Why would a man who had held you and kissed you be so stupid that he let you get away from him?”
“My father paid him.” Her voice was choked with misery, and her gaze had moved to his hand. She was embarrassed.
“Crenshaw paid him to leave off? To pave the way for Ware?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose that’s the reason. Although, it’s possible Teddy had already found someone else.”
“He’s a bloody fool.” The vehemence of his tone drew her gaze back to him, and her eyes shone with approval.
“I think so, too.” Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
Christ. He wanted to kiss her. To kiss her so hard and deep that she fell back onto the bed, splayed beneath him. His cock was so rigid that he’d merely push her skirts up, find the slit in her drawers, and slide into her. Only it wouldn’t be that easy. She was a virgin, and he had to take her with care, not with mindless need. He needed to leave. Now. He wouldn’t ruin her, not physically, without her agreement to marry him. It wouldn’t be fair to her.
With a groan born from the frustration bearing down on him, he pushed away and rose to his feet. “We should retire for the night. We must leave at daybreak to stay ahead.”
“Oh.” Clearly disappointed and ashamed of that disappointment, she rose. “Good night, my lord.”
Hoping she didn’t notice the need coursing through him,he gave a slight bow—as near as he was able—and hurried out the door of her bedroom. He waited until he heard her lock it, before going into his own.
•••
The next two days were both fearful and wonderful. Violet was able to finish precious little writing. She was hopelessly distracted by Lord Leigh and spent almost the entire time in the carriage talking to him. They spoke of almost everything, from the terrible news of that poor German ship that had sunk off the Isles of Scilly toMinor v. Happersett—the Supreme Court case that had denied granting women the right to vote—to Lady Helena’s charity. Much to her delight, Lord Leigh supported the idea that women should be granted the vote. He even believed that a woman should be allowed to find a place for herself outside the home, and he had donated to Lady Helena’s charity.
While the charity had originally funded a home for foundlings and orphans, it had been expanded in recent years to accommodate the growing need created by women, many unmarried, working twelve- and sixteen-hour days who could not care for their own children. Lady Helena had confided to her that Society people sometimes found it disagreeable, as it could be seen to promote promiscuity. As a result, she was struggling to find funding. Violet and August had promptly donated, so it was heartening to know that Lord Leigh shared their sentiments.
Especially since Violet was fairly certain she was developing strong feelings for him.
It wasn’t the same sort of tepid comfort she had found with Teddy. No, this was an all-consuming thing that swept in and took hold of her. A possession of sorts. It had started with physical signs: his electric touch sending sparks of heat along her skin, his scent making something deep within her long to be cosseted in his arms, the sound of his voice swirling inside her, stripping her defenses until shewas a mass of need and longing. A smart woman would say this was the dangerous effect of a rogue. Even now she could hear Lady Helena warning her away. The woman would be correct to do so. Those were merely signs of passion. Those weren’t what frightened her.
Violet was much more touched by what had come along with the physical manifestations. For one, he asked her about her life in New York. She told him about her friends, and Alabaster Court, their summer home in Newport. She told him all the little details about growing up that she had never spoken about to anyone. Her cat, Mittens, who had arrived one day in their back garden scrawny and missing patches of his coat, only to live the next ten years of his life in the luxury of her care. Teddy had never even known about Mittens, and she was certain he had never thought to ask about pets. Not only did Lord Leigh ask, but he listened.
He listened when she told him about the first time she had written a story and read it to her friend Amelia. Amelia had begged for another chapter to be written immediately. Lord Leigh had asked her what it was about and had listened as she had told him the story of the orphan girl who had learned she was a princess. Teddy had supported her writing aspirations, but he had never once asked her the contents of a story. It hadn’t occurred to her to mind that lapse in a prospective spouse. Perhaps she still didn’t, as her work was her own and would not be his; but after a lifetime of her work being disregarded by nearly everyone she knew, having Lord Leigh’s undivided interest in her writing was a heady thing.
