Page 19 of The Lady
“Yes.” Flora gasped, her breath shaky as she clung to his broad shoulders.
“I might have underestimated my feelings.”
Flora could not resist smiling as his mouth reclaimed hers. As they backed into the half-open cupboard, Flora was pleased when they slammed the door closed behind them. Their hands scrambled at their loosened clothes, and Philip dropped to his knees before lifting Flora so he could bury his mouth beneath the folds of her skirt. Once his face was nuzzling her inner thighs, it was hard to remember all the things they should have been doing. Or saying. Or thinking. All that mattered was his featherlike touch, the stroking and the feel of him, kissing closer and closer to her curls.
When his tongue pressed into the folds of her sex, Flora leant farther back against the panes of the door, sensation, colour, and sensuality rippling through her. And tenderness from the previous night vanished as she closed her eyes, letting the moansescape her lips. His fingers dipped inside her as well, stroking and caressing her to high heights of pleasure. Only when abruptly, he eased himself upright, his lips nudging against her collarbone, neck and throat, did Flora groan out her frustration that he had moved.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasped.
“Please,” she said, her fingers pulling at his clothes as his body bumped up against hers, and she all too briefly felt the press of his member.
Philip struggled out of his trousers as he pressed her more fully against the wall. Their lips tangled, their bundled-up mix of materials catching between their bodies and causing annoyed laughter to slip from her mouth. How he could infuriate and titillate her all at once.
With one deft movement, his hand slid between their bodies to the wet point his mouth had just left. Softly, tenderly, he teased her, edging her nearer to the endless offer of pleasure, and how she wished to launch herself into it.
“Flora.” His voice was husky, raw with desire, and she lifted her eyes and met his. “I love you.” As he said the words, they resembled a plea or a promise she wasn’t sure which, but it didn’t matter, all that did was the veracity of it, and the movement of his hips as he thrusted inside her. Possessing her. Claiming her cry of delight and enthusiasm. His body pinned her against the wall, the cupboard around them blurring as the sensation of want, need, and pleasure cascaded through Flora’s body. All she could do was cling to his shoulders and give into the overwhelming waves of it.
She heard him mutter a curse as her body clenched tightly around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she arched her hips upwards. The thrusting motion increased, rocking more fully inside her, seemingly to touch every inch of her, not merely physically but emotionally too.
“I love you too,” she said as she lifted her head, her mouth brushing against his forehead as she felt him shudder, deep within her.
Their breathing mingled, rough, broken, snatched as they exchanged the occasional kiss, righting their clothes as they went.
“I believe we will need to leave this most convenient closet,” Philip said once they were as decent as they could be.
Flora’s gaze locked with his. “If you are leaving England, then I will be going with you.”
Philip gave her a wry smile, interlinking their fingers. He let out a hearty sigh. “I hardly think eloping with a duke’s sister is the course of action, my mother meant by disappearing from the eye of theton. It will be quite the most scandalous thing I could think of doing.”
“Just because you are a doctor, and used to doing things for others, it does not mean you have cut yourself off just because she commands it.” Flora looked up into Philip’s face. “We can find another way of helping Mrs. Turbot.” That being said, she reached confidently for the door handle and turned it, pulling them both out and into the sunlit corridor. To her utter dismay, there stood the twins—Langley and Margot’s sons—and Timothy Turbot, who stared up at the pair of them most suspiciously.
“What were you doing in the cupboard?”
“Is it a good hiding spot?”
“Why are you holding hands?”
The boys’ questions bounded off each other, and Flora was just grateful that little Timothy felt no need to interject. Or ask questions himself.
She turned imploring eyes to Philip, who was flushing slightly. “They’re your nephews.”
“Boys,” Philip said in what was an assured calm. “You’ll be delighted to know you’re soon to have a new aunt—dear Lady Flora has agreed to marry me.”
There was a whooping noise but before Flora could hug either boy, there was a laugh from the distance, and she lifted her head to see Margot and Langley approaching them. Their arms were interlocked, and they looked remarkably pleased with themselves.
“How lovely,” Margot said, and kisses Philip’s cheek and then hugged Flora on reaching them. “We’ll really be sisters then.”
“What decidedly excellent news,” Langley said. He bent and scooped up Timothy. “Oh, you’re not one of mine.” He ruffled the boy’s hair as he lowered him back down to the floor. “Your mother is down in the kitchen enjoying some rhubarb syllabub, I am sure she would like you to go and have some too.”
“Can we go?”
“Yes, Father, we want to go too.”
“No, no, we’re going to hear all about this rather wonderful engagement.” Langley looked between Flora and Philip. “Although,” he said in an undertone, “I am sure we don’t need to know why the closet had anything to do with the sudden announcement.”
“This way, this way.” Margot hurriedly ushered everyone back towards the parlour, and Flora, despite her own embarrassment, followed along, hand clasped with Philip’s.
Langley also ushered all of them back into the parlour, then carefully helped his wife back into her seat, placing a cushioned footstool at her feet before he turned towards Flora and Philip. His eyes sparkled at his previous teasing joke, but when he spoke, he sounded serious. “All things considered, it might be best to make a break for Scotland.” He looked closely at Philip before adding, “I assume you would not object to the journey?”
