As much as he longed for her to step up to him and challenge him, he knew he couldn’t have it. Everyone who got close to him got hurt. Already it was hard to keep his own mother and sister at arm’s length in hopes that they wouldn’t get hurt or leave him. He couldn’t afford time or thought to have another person clamoring to get into his space.
She spoke again with even more aplomb, “You said you didn’t care about propriety anymore.” The gauntlet was thrown. The breath left his body and all logical thought followed its departure. All he could think of was the woman in front of him who had been tormenting his thoughts ever since the kiss in the closet. All he could think about was finding some relief from said torment.
If he did what she was asking him to do, it might be the final move to put her at arm’s length. She would despise him for exposing her to this level of carnality. This basic human desire that, in her mind, was only permissible in marriage.
With absolute certainty, he knew she would loathe him for following through on this challenge. There would be nothing more repulsive to her than someone giving in to their desires without restraint. She was taught to be proper, to contain her desires, to be the perfect lady ready for a husband, so he would show her how improper he was, how relentlessly he gave in to desire, and therefore how imperfect a husband he would make anyone.
She would never come to him after this. And he would finally be free of the incessant arousal she induced in him.
Gregory slowly rested his head back. With heavy lidded eyes he watched her face. He took in his luscious lips and creamy skin. He imagined her long tawny tresses streaming down her breasts and nipples poking through. He inhaled her cinnamon scent and stroked himself. As he grew thicker and harder he imagined her in his bed, straddling him. Before he could picture any more, his mouth fell open and a groan escaped. He felt instant release and his body went limp. He closed his eyes to allow the relief to take him. Then he slowly opened his eyes to look into her face. He was caught by surprise. He suddenly felt as though he were tumbling over an edge. As he grasped for anything to hold onto he realized how temporaneous his relief was.
As he closed his eyes he heard her flee the room. “Hell and damnation.”
Chapter 9
I’mgoingtohell.I’m going to hell. I’m going to hell.
This was Mary’s mantra all through the evening, night, and next morning until she finally amended it to: I’m in hell. I’m in hell. I’m in hell.
Margaret had decided that line reading should be outside today since it was such a glorious day, and she was not accepting any excuses. She had already had a place set up in the gardens near the folly with carpets, chairs, and blankets, and she had just ordered two footmen to take out the baskets of food and other last minute items.
As the four of them made their way outside, Margaret took Lyle’s arm. “Do be careful. There are some wet spots on the grass from the recent rain.” When neither Gregory nor Mary acknowledged Margaret’s concern, she raised her voice just enough so as not to be thought shrill yet not to be ignored.
“Gregory. Please do not embarrass me. Be a gentleman and aid Mary along this treacherous pathway.”
“I thought you said it was a glorious day?” Gregory’s sarcasm was dismissed.
“Yes, well every rose has its thorns… and such.” Margaret promptly turned to Lyle and engaged him in conversation rather than escalate the squabble with her brother.
Gregory proffered his arm without looking at Mary. This was probably for the best as Mary did not want him to notice the crimson hue painted on her cheeks.
Mary couldn’t decide which was more hellish, walking in silence or making inane conversation. After an attempt at a torturous silence she optimistically opted for the lesser of two evils. “It is a lovely day, isn’t it?”
The weather? And the topic of conversation that Gregory had mocked just moments before? That was the best she could do.
She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him and was beyond grateful to use her oversized bonnet as an excuse.
“Yes, quite.”
Silence was better. Definitely better.
Mary’s fingers burned where they felt the muscles of Gregory’s forearm. This was the forearm attached to the hand that… that… did unmentionable things to his… unmentionable parts.
She couldn’t bear the burn as it began creeping its way into her body.
“I …I believe the pathway looks clear now. I should be fine.” She tore her hand from his arm and began to walk as quickly as she could move without running.
She heard him chuckle. The nerve! The nerve of that odious man.
So furious was she that she couldn’t organize her own thoughts.
All she could focus on was on one foot in front of the other. And that wasn’t even working out that well because at that very moment she must have forgotten that it was her left foot’s turn to lift and instead of taking a normal step she tripped on her skirts and felt gravity calling to her.
“Steady on.” She felt his hands around her waist. She wanted to stay there. She wanted his hands to burn their way up and down her body until she forgot her own name. Instead, she pulled up her skirts, just enough, and took off running while Gregory laughed behind her.
Gregory didn’t hurry. He was perversely enjoying Mary’s discomfort.
When he caught up to the three waiting at the picnic site, it was just in time to catch the tail end of Margaret saying something ridiculous about how the footmen had forgotten her favorite chair, and how she couldn’t possibly be out here for any length of time without out, and how Lyle was to attend to her and she must go with him because how was he supposed to know which was her favorite chair, and if he brought the wrong one it would just be a waste of time because they would be having this conversation again.
