Page 25 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
“What is the answer from the lesson?” she replied, and he raised a finger to his chin, as though contemplating the answer.
“Well, a lady would perhaps not remain. She has given the illusion of expectation, just enough to tantalize the gentleman, but she has not given everything, and this then will keep him interested,” he replied, and Catherine laughed.
“But what if I wished to stay, what if it was time for such tête-à-tête to become more,” she said, rising from the table.
“Then perhaps she would linger, allow the gentleman to follow her to the hallway where they might be alone. You must remember that you have shared a dinner in company, rather than an intimate luncheon,” he reminded her, escorting her from the dining room and into the hallway.
“And what do you, as the gentleman, wish for?” she asked, as they stood together on the marbled hallway floor, as close as they had been in the park the day before.
“It is the lady’s wish; a gentleman cannot force himself on her. Remember, it is you who have seduced me,” he said, and Catherine looked up into his eyes, suddenly desirous of his lips, the touch of his hand, and his embrace.
“Then this is what I wish,” she said, and leaning forward, she kissed him, pulling him to her, their lips as one in a moment of passion and arousal.
As their lips parted, Ian looked at her in surprise, for there had been such a force in their coming together as to leave them both breathless. Catherine blushed, stepping back in astonishment at the power of the feelings which had seemed to overwhelm her. For a moment, it had seemed that all the games, the ruse, the deception, everything had disappeared, replaced by the simplicity of a kiss between two lovers, two hearts entwined not from deception but from true and sincere feeling.
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked, and Catherine nodded.
“If I can make my excuses, yes, you will, and perhaps you will show me how this will continue,” she replied, blushing as she took her leave.
“It would be my pleasure,” he replied, “for there is still so very much to teach you.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Come here, Plotinus,” Ian called out, watching as the dog ran at full kilter across the park, leaping at an elderly gentleman who had been examining a butterfly through a large magnifying glass.
“Oh, goodness me, goodness me,” the gentleman exclaimed, flailing backward with alarm as Ian came running over.
“Forgive me, sir. He means no harm, but his excitement knows no bounds,” Ian said, helping the gentleman to his feet and dusting him off.
“No harm done, merely something of a surprise,” he said, glancing warily at Plotinus, who was sniffing around his ankles.
Ian hauled the dog away by his collar, chastising him for his bad manners. They had been walking in the park for an hour or so, Ian having taken the dog out in the hope of some fresh air and time to think. He had been brooding since Catherine’s departure the day before, caught between his growing feelings for her and the wariness he felt of breaking his self-imposed rules.
There was no doubting that Ian had fallen in love with Catherine, or at least more so than for any other woman since Cassandra. In the years since that tragedy, Ian had become adept at seduction without feeling. He could charm a woman into his bed and feel no qualms when the next morning he told her that seeing her again would not be possible. It had never caused him guilt before, but the thought of doing that to Catherine was quite preposterous.
His feelings for her ran far deeper than mere infatuation, and he was aware of having entirely led her along a merry dance, one which now caused him considerable pain. He had not meant to fall in love with her, but merely to help her in her troubles. She had seemed like a kindred spirit to him, a woman not after his own heart, one who herself had no desire to fall in love. But in the kiss they had shared the day before, there was more than mere passion, a connection which Ian could not rid himself of, one he desired to further explore, despite his own misgivings.
“Plotinus, come here!” he exclaimed, drawn out of his musings by the dog, which now raced across the park in the direction of a couple walking by the ornamental lake.
“Oh, Ian, how good to see you,” Nicholas, the Marquess of Somerset, said, as Plotinus jumped up into his arms and began to lick him.
The Marquess was walking with his wife, Rebecca, and Ian bowed to them, pulling Plotinus back and holding him by the collar. “An enthusiastic thing, is he not?” Rebecca asked, eyeing Plotinus warily.
“He merely gets a little excitable,” Ian replied, embarrassed by the dog’s behavior, and the meeting with Rebecca, whom Ian knew to be a close friend of Catherine’s.
“And we must congratulate you on your betrothal,” Nicholas said, holding out his hand to Ian, who took it and nodded.
“I am a very lucky man,” he said, glancing at Rebecca, who appeared to be trying hard to conceal her expression.
“Catherine is very happy,” she said, and Ian nodded again.
“We are both very happy,” he replied.
“And when do you think the wedding will take place? In the summer, perhaps? A summer wedding is a delight,” Nicholas said, turning to his wife, who smiled.
“It will be our delight to attend,” she said.
“Catherine tells me you are to be a bridesmaid,” Ian said, trying desperately to think of something to say.
