Page 16 of Avoiding the Merry Viscount
Lydia’s eyes shotopen, and she struggled to catch her breath. Her hand was between her legs with her night rail pulled up beneath the covers so that her hand worked the place at the start of her folds. Her chest rose and fell, as if she had sprinted across a field. She wasn’t certain if she had actually achieved a climax, or if it had been part of her dream. Lydia supposed she didn’t care, as the result was the same, and it had been even more intense than the first time she had experienced such a sensation.
She closed her eyes and saw him still there, touching her body. Lydia blinked her eyes open again, her cheeks heated. It would be quite embarrassing if Viscount Snowdon ever found out that she had dreamed of him and been driven to touch herself. He never would, given she would never tell another soul. She only hoped that her face wouldn’t turn five shades redder when she saw him at breakfast.
The upside of the matter was that she relieved the tension within her body and perhaps she could finally put an end to such wicked thoughts. At least until she was back home, where she could imagine what the viscount looked like without his shirt on and not see him at the breakfast table.
Lydia had never seen a man without his clothes on before and would need to quit thinking about it if she wished the tension she had eased to remain at bay.
Climbing from her bed, she moved to the wash basin to wash her face, and her hands, after the way she had found herself once she woke. After she had freshened herself, she reached for the bellpull to ring for Tilly.
Half an hour later she was dressed in a pale blue morning dress, and her hair swept back into a simple chignon. Once Tilly had finished with her hair, she donned her ankle boots and then set off to join the others for breakfast.
She knocked on her parents’ door this time. After she rapped her knuckles, her mother called from the other side of the door.
“Good morning, dearest,” her mother said to her. “We were just about to join the others for breakfast.”
“I shall walk with you then,” Lydia said, bussing her mother’s cheek.
Her mother put on a pair of earrings. “Did you sleep well?”
Lydia felt the blush hit her cheeks. “Very well.” That wasn’t a lie.
“Good.” Her mother glanced over to where her father stood, his valet doing a last brush of his coat. “Ready, darling?”
Her father came over to where her mother was and extended his arm to her. “Indeed. I’m famished.”
The tenderness between her parents warmed her heart. They had been a love match, and their love had only grown stronger in the many years of their marriage. Just another reason it would have been a travesty if she had been leg shackled to a man who desired to bed any woman, willing or unwilling.
After they exited the chamber, she took her father’s other arm, and they strolled to the breakfast room. The scene was lively when they entered with the buzz of conversation around the table. There were only around fifteen guests invited, besides the Earl of Snowdon and his children, but it sounded like more as everyone excitedly chatted over their breakfast.
The sideboard had been set up with an array of offerings, so Lydia and her parents went there first to fill their plates and then find seats. Unable to stop herself, Lydia glanced around the table to see who was already there. As much as she loathed to admit it, she was looking for Viscount Snowdon, but didn’t see him.
His father sat at the head of the table with Diana seated to his right, and her sisters lined up beside her. She noted that Lady Billings sat at the other end of the table. Lydia opted to take the seat across from Diana and beside the elder Lord Snowdon, deciding that theyounger Snowdon would select the seat near his lover.
“I am so glad that you could join us, Lydia,” Diana said after Lydia had taken her seat, and a footman helped to push her chair in.
“I am looking forward to seeing what other events you have planned. Your home is quite lovely.”
“Thank you,” Diana said, beaming with pride. “I have done my best to ensure that things have been well tended to over the years.”
The elder Lord Snowdon closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath, then forked a bit of eggs into his mouth.
Diana noticed and placed her hand on her father’s arm. “I think you will like the activity I have planned for the morning, Papa,” she said, her eager tone only slightly forced. “We are going to build snowmen. You, Jenny, and Grace shall be the judges.”
Her father gave her a small smile and set his fork down to pat Diana’s hand, then picked it back up again. “That sounds very nice.”
Lydia’s body heated when a gentleman swept into the room out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t even have to look at him to know who it was. Training her eyes on her plate, she willed herself to focus on her breakfast. He was at the sideboard behind where she sat. Drawing a deep breath, she told herself that in only a few moments, he would be seated at the other end of the table, and she could forget that he had entered.
A few moments later, the empty chair beside her moved and the very man set his plate down beside hers. Once he took his seat, the intoxicating scent of sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon took over her senses. She wondered if he intentionally selected the scent for the holiday or if he usually wore a note of cinnamon. Not that it mattered, but if she were going to dream of him again, the added sensory details might enhance the experience.
She chastised herself for how wanton she had allowed her thoughts to become. There would be no more imagining of the man. No good could come of that. Before she could argue with herself anyfurther, he addressed the group.
“Father. Sisters,” he said, giving them a nod. “Miss Cary, you look well this morning.”
She noticed the elder Lord Snowdon had a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and she wasn’t certain what it was about. But she was pleased to see that he at least appeared less grim.
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied.
“I hope you were met with a comfortable bed after all the excitement of yesterday’s events.”
