Page 24 of Portrait of a Lady
She nodded while lowering her hand from her face, yet she remained on the floor, seeming afraid to move or breathe, or do anything else to further embarrass herself. He rose from the bed and knelt before her, extending one hand. She appeared reluctant but accepted his help. He stood and pulled her to her feet, quickly adjusting the dressing gown before it revealed another inch of skin. While her efforts had been a bit comical, the effect of her indéshabilléwas affecting him in a very real way. But, if this encounter had shown him anything, it was that she still wasn’t quite ready for him to carry her to the bed and pick up where she had just left off.
Once he’d tightened the belt at her waist, he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Evelyn, you do not want to be drunk the first time I take you to bed,” he admonished gently. “And it was hardly necessary. If you are still anxious, do recall that I promised you we would take this at the paceyouset.”
“I know,” she replied, her voice a strained whisper. “But then you kissed me, and the next thing I knew…”
She had been nearly naked in his lap with one of his hands groping between her thighs. Hugh cursed himself for his lack of control. Of course she had evaluated last night’s performance and expected him to carry it much further tonight.
“I am so terribly ignorant about such things,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “At least, I was...until I asked Patience to teach me the basics of intercourse. There were...books with illustrations of various...positions and...and details...so many things…”
Hugh placed a finger over her lips, halting her before she became worked up again. He was coming to realize that she babbled when she was uneasy.
“I apologize if my behavior last night led you to believe I wished to rush this,” he said. “I simply got a bit caught up in the moment.”
She shook her head, dislodging his finger from her mouth. “There was nothing wrong with what you did last night. I...I truly did like it. I just...did not realize how unprepared I am for what happens next.”
With a smile, he bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. “What happens next, is we will have dinner and talk. Then, for tonight, we will adhere to a rule of kissing only. You asked how I wanted you...I want you comfortable and confident, not drunk and apprehensive.”
Giving him a slow nod, she seemed to turn his words over in her mind before responding. “Kissing only.”
“For tonight, and until you are ready for more,” he confirmed. “Now, I want to ask what book Patience gave you to read, but I am afraid to know the answer.”
“There were two,” she confessed, twin pink spots appearing on her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. “The first contained mostly erotic illustrations, which I did not fully understand until I read the other book...The School of Venus.”
Hugh nearly choked, recalling very well the content ofThe School of Venus. Written as a conversation between two women, it was nothing more than an instructional manual in the guise of a story.
“Well, forget about what you’ve read for tonight. We’ve established the boundaries for now, and I will not step over them until you ask me to. Now, something smells rather delicious.”
She gazed over at the table set near a bay window, elegantly dressed with a white cloth. Someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to prepare the intimate meal for them—two plates holding a variety of offerings, goblets filled with wine, and a silver tower containing an array of desserts in the center. His stomach trembled at the faint scent of sugary confections, yet another reminder that he’d forgotten to eat for most of the day. If Evelyn had insisted they go straight to the bed, he might have expired before being able to put in a satisfactory performance.
“Please, sit down,” she offered, gesturing toward the table.
Evelyn took her time laying her napkin across her lap before taking up her knife and fork and cutting into a portion of mutton.
“Forgive me for the awkwardness of the beginning of our evening,” she said, keeping her gaze upon her plate. “Getting foxed is not a habit of mine, I can assure you.”
He waved her off with one hand before turning his attention to his own dinner. The mutton was tender and well cooked, the first bite going a long way toward calming his stomach.
“Think nothing of it. I am not here to cast judgment on you. I am here to…”
To fuck you. To make you happy. To keep you pleased with me until I am ready to be finished with this business altogether.
“Yes,” she murmured, stabbing at a spear of asparagus with her fork. “I suppose we ought to talk about the particulars of that. You mentioned arranging the frequency of your visits.”
“That depends entirely upon you,” he told her, pausing to take a sip of what turned out to be a fine claret. “Most of my mornings are occupied, as well as some afternoons. But the time I have free, and all my evenings, are yours.”
She seemed to think on that for a moment. “I suppose for now three nights a week would suffice. Some evenings, Patience and I like to attend the theater. If you are amenable, I would like to have you along when your schedule allows.”
He wanted to remind her that she was paying him to be at her disposal, that if she were going anywhere it was his job to accompany her as an escort. But speaking to her in such a mercenary way about their arrangement felt wrong just now. Odd that he’d never felt that instinctive recoil with another of his keepers.
“I’d be happy to. What of balls, dinner parties, that sort of thing?”
She frowned at the turnip on the end of her fork, then glanced up to meet his gaze. “I don’t attend such affairs, as I receive very few invitations.”
The statement had been made in a matter-of-fact tone, but he sensed something else beneath her words. Who would neglect to invite such a sweet, companionable person to theirfête? He came from a family filled with hostesses, all of whom would want to have a woman like Evelyn rounding out the seating arrangements at their dinner parties, or as bait to gain the attendance of unwed men.
“It is just as well,” she pressed on. “I am not fond of crowds. Too many people, and too many ways for me to embarrass myself.”
