Page 32 of The Trials of Alaric
“Of course not, Lady Stowell,” Bea assured her. “My cousin Beverley has a tent set up just for you and the gentry. I shall ensure suitable refreshments are waiting for you.” Alaric had opened the drawing room door and was holding it for the viscountess.
“Hmmph,” said Lady Stowell. “That will do, then. But I shall be expecting the schedule to be better organized for next year, mind.”
With that final word, she sailed into the drawing room and, in the moment before Alaric shut the door, Bea could hear her saying, “Dear Lady Claddach. And Lady Lewiston, too. How splendid to see you.”
“Willthe schedule change for next year?” Alaric asked Bea.
“I should put her on the organizing committee,” Bea grumbled, “and leave her to figure it out. Except we would very likely finish up without an organizing committee.”
He touched her hand. “We achieved what we needed,” he pointed out. “Time enough to worry about next year after this year is over. Thanks to you, Bea. You were brilliant.”
“And you were charming,” she pointed out. “We make a good team, do we not?”
He leaned closer. “The best.” His eyes seemed to darken as his pupils expanded.
Had his mind gone to the same place as hers? There was a simple way to find out. “What are you thinking, Alaric?”
“I am wishing I could kiss you,” he admitted.
Her lips tingled and her belly felt suddenly soft and hollow. Her heart leapt for joy. She had been waiting so long! Well. A week, but it felt like longer. The answer was “yes” and “now” and “hurry.” It was with difficulty that she swallowed those words to say something a modicum more sensible.
“Not here, where anyone might come upon us,” she replied. “Follow me.” Was she really going to do it? She was. She had been thinking about it for days, and they might not get another time when most of the servants and all the younger house guests were out of the castle, as well as Papa, Uncle Lewiston, and the other gentlemen.
Just beyond the head of the stairs was a linen closet. No one would have any reason to enter it. It was perfect for their purposes. She opened the door and led Alaric inside, then shut the door behind them.
Shelves full of household linen, sorted by type, quality, size, and color, lined both sides. Light filtered in from the direction of the back wall, which had a high round window above a table for folding linen before putting it away and a basket for anything that required mending.
Bea turned to face Alaric. Now what? She hoped he knew what he was about, for she had never before been kissed.
“Are you sure?” he asked her, his voice husky. He was certain, it seemed, for he was holding his arms out to her.
She nodded as she stepped closer to him. His hands came to rest on her waist, and he gazed into her eyes. What was heabout? This was not what she had imagined. The weight and warmth of his hands on her waist felt wonderful, but it was not enough. It was not kissing. After a moment, she asked, “Are you going to kiss me?”
“I am,” he assured her. “I am just deciding where to start.”
Bea frowned. Surely one simply pressed their lips to the lips of the other person. Was that not the whole point? But she had no time to ask, for he used one hand to tilt her head to one side and placed a kiss on her neck, just below her ear. A shiver ran down her neck and through her body.
He kissed her again, this time on her jaw, less than an inch from the first kiss, and followed along her jaw line. Not just kisses, either. He scraped his teeth over her skin then soothed it with his tongue. By the time his kisses reached the other ear, she was plastered against him, her knees too weak to hold her up.
Then he came back across her cheek and at last reached her lips. Now he would settle his mouth over hers, as she had seen men do with their wives or lovers when they thought themselves unobserved. Good. His ministrations so far had set her whole body tingling, and particularly her womanly core. She could not wait to find out what his lips felt like on hers.
But no. The rain of kisses continued. She tried to object but could manage nothing beyond a moan. An indignant moan, but hardly a clear request for more. Still, he responded, settling his mouth over hers. It felt amazing, but she still needed something else.
He opened his mouth and ran his tongue along her lips. No. That wasn’t what she was waiting for. Not quite. Then, he nipped her lower lip with his teeth, and she opened with a gasp. Alaric slipped his tongue into her mouth.
A long interlude of learning one another followed. He tasted warm, if warmth could be tasted, and sweet. When she pressed her tongue against his, he hummed with pleasure, and when shechased his tongue into his mouth, he hummed even more loudly, then he followed her back, and their tongues tangled and danced while his mouth moved and his hands held her firmly against his body, one in the middle of her back and one grasping her behind.
She had no idea how long they kissed. The need for more returned, more urgent than ever. Her breasts felt heavy and ached in a way that demanded a soothing touch, and so did that area she had been taught to ignore between her legs.
Eventually, Alaric withdrew his mouth, sighed, and moved his hand from her buttock up her back to her head, holding her in place while he rested his cheek against her hair. He was breathing heavily, she was pleased to note as she was panting, as if she had run from the castle to the beach. And back.
She stood leaning against him, waiting for her breath to settle while all the thoughts that the kiss had driven from her head came crowding back into it.
“I must go,” she said at last. Her voice shook, and she was still not certain her knees would hold her up. “I do not know the time, but the girls setting out the food on the castle stall will be looking for me.”
“And the contestants for me,” Alaric admitted. “I ought to warn you it would have been a bad idea to remain here together, even if we could. That kiss…” He shook his head, slowly. “It was a promise of more, dearest Bea. And we cannot take more. Not without being wed. I would not dishonor you or your father. Not for the world.”
A promise of more. Bea had sensed that. And while her body was perfectly willing to explore thatmoreimmediately, her mind knew better. “It was a beautiful kiss,” she told him. “My first. I shall never forget it.” She stepped backward and he dropped his arms and let her go.
