Page 17 of Loving Mister Stratford
“What are you thinking?” he whispered huskily, though there was no one else in the room other than his childhood memories.
“That no one has ever kissed me before,” she repliedwithoutthinking. Her heartbeat of mortification was quickly quashed as his palm finally cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing her with infinite gentleness. Her eyes slid closed at the contact. How warm and careful he was. His other arm snaked around her waist and slowly, one-quarter-inch at a time, pulled her flush with him until every bit of them was connected. The hand holding her cheek gently tipped her head back and a fraction to the side. And suddenly, his lips were on hers. The touch began as light as a feather—almost too soft to feel—but the pressure increased with every pass of his lips over hers.
Just when she thought she might expire from breathless anticipation his lips finally fit against hers, a perfect seal, as if they’d been made for one another. The delicious caress made her knees weak and her heart stutter in her breast. Stars streaked behind her eyelids as the rest of the world melted away. Her hands clutched the sides of his waistcoat of their own volition, desperately needing to hold onto something to keep her body from floating away. She self-consciously began to return the caress, but his nudging kiss, the passing question of his tongue against the seam of her mouth, urged forth a sigh of surrender. Her lips parted and the kiss deepened further than Odette had ever imagined. His tongue tangled with her inexperienced one, showing it how to both give and take pleasure. And then, he stopped.
With a suddenness that left her reeling, Simon stepped back from their embrace, leaving the front of her entire body cold and chilled despite the warmth of the summer air drifting in through the open windows with their safety bars.
Simon’s chest heaved, his eyes wild and uncertain as if he’d just witnessed something unbelievable.
In all, he looked exactly as Odette felt.
“Take a right out of this room, then two lefts, down the half flight of stairs, one right, and the main stairs will be straight ahead. The family dining room is the first door to your right off the great hall.” With that, he spun on his heel and left the room in three brisk strides of his long legs, leaving Odette in the company of only her shaky breathing.
Simon didn’t join Odette and the rest of his family for dinner.
In his absence, his family’s efforts at making Odette feel more comfortable were well and above admirable. She was introduced to the only female Stratford sibling, Lily, and her husband, Jeremy, Baron Shefford. The juxtaposition of the two of them was striking. Where Lily was fair and petite, her husband was tall, broad, dark, and imposing. It wasn’t difficult to imagine his deep chocolate eyes smoldering and his chiseled jaw sharp with determination. The baron was a formidable man with hands so large they could probably snap her in two. All her nerves fled, however, when she witnessed the careful way in which he handled his wife, his eyes fairly melting with adoration each time she touched his arm or leaned into his field of vision.
Odette had come to recognize a different, yet similarly palpable, affection shared by Simon’s elder brother and his wife. Meredith and the viscount were likewise thoughtful in their attentions to one another. Each gentle touch of their hands or jolly quip between them made Odette sink more and more into a quagmire of guilt for what her mother had said about them. She had silently watched the couple for the several hours it took to chat and eat supper, and there wasn’t a single speck of doubt in her mind that Sommerfeld would never, ever set aside his wife. If there was no issue from the union, then it was conceivable that they would still live a long and happy life together in their obvious love. And that meant…that meant Simon or his offspring would then inherit the earldom.Herchildren would inherit.
Rather than thrill or excite her as it would no doubt have any other woman—high-born or no—it filled Odette with an intense quiver of nerves and dread…and not just for herself.
If she’d learned one thing about Simon in the weeks since they had met, it was that he’d never had any ambitions other than to pursue his research. He was not a second-born son salivating over the possibility of inheriting a sturdy title and all the healthy land and wealth that went with it. He’d commented more than once how he prized his solitude and his work. Inheriting would surely hinder all of this if he wished to be a hands-on, dedicated lord. And she’d come to recognize that Simon did nothing to half-measure.
To Odette’s delight, Lily and her husband had brought with them their two young sons, Vincent and Edward. She enjoyed children—especially since she’d missed out on much of her childhood being held backstage and monitored by other actresses—but she’d savored the brief times spent in the company of child workers in the theaters. The Balfour children had retired to the nursery early following the long carriage ride from Rosehall, so she had yet to meet them, but she certainly looked forward to it.
The thought of the nursery brought with it a flood of memories—both physical and emotional—of just what had transpired there only a short time before. Likely, she’d vacated the room only minutes before the Shefford boys had been brought in…how mortifying that would have been had they been happened upon. She felt her cheeks warm heartily.
Then again, she couldn’t very well be more compromised than she already was; they were, after all, going to be wed in just under two weeks.
“Have you played pall mall before, Miss Leroy?” Sommerfeld leaned around his sister to meet her eyes down the length of the table.
Odette shook her head, trying to mask the fact that her head had wandered.“I’m afraid not.” Her mother had not only insisted upon maintaining Odette’s fragile, pale French complexion by limiting her time in the sun, but it was also far easier to keep tabs on one’s daughter when she was confined to the same building in which one spent endless hours rehearsing and performing…
“Cards, then?” Meredith peeked her head around Baron Shefford’s formidable chest as he silently polished off the last of his berry tart and clotted cream.
“Lord, no!” Sommerfeld groaned before Odette could reply, startling her with his vehemence.“I’m stepping in as champion in my brother’s absence and refuse to allow anyone to trounce the poor girl within hours of meeting her…no matter how beautiful the swindler.” He flashed his wife a devastating wink and turned back to Odette.“Don’t worry,” the viscount added in an awful stage whisper;“I’ll not allow her to trick you into losing your pin money.”
Odette tried to give him a cheerful smile of gratitude, but his stance served only to underscore the emptiness of the seat across the table from her. Either the family was used to Simon’s unexplained absences or they didn’t feel she needed to know the reason behind it, because nothing was said. Not a single comment was whispered as an excuse. Instead, the remainder of the Stratfords and their spouses stepped in to drag her from her quiet, uncomfortable shell and make her feel more at home and welcome than she’d thought possible in such a short amount of time. Still, the gaping hole in their party kept drawing her eyes against her will. It was difficult for Odette not to wonder if it had something to do with what had transpired in the nursery.
Could their kiss have beenthatoff-putting?
She was finally successful in forcing a smile.“I should like to learn how to play pall mall,” she chimed in.
“Splendid,” Lily clapped her hands. Odette didn’t miss the countess’s flicker of a grimace at the sound, but she held her tongue short of scolding her daughter.
“Just don’t put holes in the lawn,” the earl groused good-naturedly.
“We shall play teams,” Meredith chimed in.
“I’m more than happy to remain a passive spectator and enjoy the view,” Sommerfeld answered and then turned to his brother-in-law beside Odette.“Right, Jem?”
The baron appeared about to agree with him but caught his wife’s pleading emerald eyes and was instantly lost. The change was so sudden that Odette barely had a chance to stifle her smile.
“Teams isn’t such an awful idea.” Shefford’s resonant voice quashed Sommerfeld’s hopes.
The viscount rolled his eyes dramatically until he flinched with a grunt. If Odette wasn’t mistaken, then he’d just been struck in the shin by a dainty woman’s slipper.
“Don’t act as if you’re any less vulnerable to your own wife’s whims,” Lily scolded with a treacle-sweet smile, to which Meredith grinned knowingly.“The game was your idea, after all.”
