Page 53 of A Duchess Bound
“You are so good with words,” Lady Dorothy said. “It is difficult to say when you are being sincere.”
“Is it?”
She leaned forward, something like fire in her expression. “You have done this same thing with so many women,” Lady Dorothy said. “God help me! I do want to continue this dalliance with you, tosubmitif that means you will show me pleasure. But I also wonder, do I hate you?”
He arched a brow. “Hateseems like a rather strong sentiment.”
“How much of what you have shown me or said to me is merely…recitation from other affairs?” she asked. “You are an accomplished rake. I do not imagine that you craft a new performance for each lady you seduce. No, you must act the same role over and over.”
Gerard did not have a response to that. Something in Lady Dorothy’s words reminded him of the way that Lady Everleigh had sometimes gazed at him. Lady Dorothy was not an innocent, besotted woman. She was a lady who knew his game too well and was humoring him, entirely for her own benefit.
“You like that performance, or you would not be here.”
“I do.”
Gerard smiled and let his hands lower, bunching up the fabric of her skirts. Lady Dorothy’s breath hitched. “Would you like me to craft a performance for you?” he asked. “Shall I tell you precisely what I think of you?”
She laughed. “You will say whatever it is that you imagine I want to hear.”
“So I shall.”
Lady Dorothy curled her hands in his hair, and he pulled back. “Careful,” he said. “I did not grant you permission to touch me.”
“Do I need permission?”
“Yes.”
She brought her hand down instead, digging her fingers into her skirts. “And is that what you told the others?”
“It is.”
The carriage came to a halt. Rather than waiting for the footman, Gerard opened the door and helped Lady Dorothy descend. He had prepared the picnic just outside the cottage, which was a small but comfortable dwelling. In the daylight, one could see the thin, sweeping grasses and little wildflowers surrounding itsexterior. Gerard offered his arm, and she placed her hand at the crook of his elbow.
He guided her to the fine linen spread over the ground. For their dalliance, he had brought cold meats, cheeses, and delicate pastries. There was a bottle of wine for after the punishment. Gerard had found that ladies sometimes enjoyed a gentle touch after particularly intense experiences, and he intended to give Lady Dorothy an exceptionally trying punishment.
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the food. “Or if you prefer, we can partake after your punishment?”
“My punishment.”
“I promised you one. Did you think that I spoke in jest?”
“This hardly seems like a punishment,” Lady Dorothy replied.
“The food is not,” he said. “But I must know, my lady. What do you imagine I had in mind?”
“W—well…”
Laughing, he turned around and seized both her arms. Gerard held her fast, so they were facing one another. A shyer maiden would have averted her gaze, but she did not. They gazed into one another’s eyes; her eyes appeared silver in the moonlight.
“Well?” he asked. “I am waiting.”
A flush of embarrassment spread over her face, so sudden and glorious that his loins stirred. Women were so lovely when they were flustered and left without their balance.
“I asked you a question,” he purred. “Tell me.”
“I—I do not know,” she said. “Perhaps, I imagined…”
“Yes?”
