Compromising the Marquess Page 17

  Hal was determined to discover what that something was.

  * * *

  Flick’s warning about the disruption that the organization of a ball would cause came back to haunt Hal since he could no longer call his house his own. Everywhere he went he tripped over servants, many of whom he didn’t recognize, polishing anything that didn’t move with supernatural vigour. They stood on ladders to dust chandeliers, polished silver that already looked sparkling clean, and rearranged furniture under Potter’s exacting command. The doors to the ballroom on the lower floor had been flung open, and the activity there was the most intense. An army of footmen moved with precision across the wooden floor, sweeping, polishing and applying chalk.

  Feminine voices emanated from the main library.

  “This one is for Major Harper,” Flick’s voice said. “He lives a mile or so on the other side of the village in the big ugly square house on the hill overlooking the cove. He’s an appalling old wind-suck who fancies himself as quite the dandy. Be on your guard if you’re unfortunate enough to dance with him, ladies, and it’s not your toes you need to look out for.”

  Flick continued to describe each of their neighbours in equally colourful terms as she wrote out their invitations. Hal poked his head round the door and found Flick, her old governess Miss Archer, Leah and Bethany industriously bent over piles of cards, pens scratching away. He couldn’t see the surface of the desk for the paper that covered it. He knew that Cowling, his secretary, was similarly occupied but he’d had the good sense to take himself off to his own lair.

  As though sensing his presence, Leah glanced up, caught his eye, blushed and as quickly looked away again. Hal suppressed a frustrated grimace, resolutely determined to discover in the not-too-distant future exactly how much of Leah’s delectable body was affected by her rosy blushes.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said. “Hard at work, I see.”

  “Good afternoon, Lord Denby,” the younger Miss Elliott said shyly.

  “This is going to cost you a very expensive ball gown,” Flick said, trying to look displeased but unable to hide her excitement at the thought of such a large gathering—one at which she would, as hostess, be the centre of attention. If there was one thing Hal’s sister excelled at, it was being feted and admired.

  Hal rolled his eyes. “I didn’t doubt that for a moment.”

  Flick’s words made him doubt something else, though. Even if Leah and Beth possessed ball gowns, they wouldn’t be suitable for such a grand occasion. He would not have them attract derision by being unsuitably attired, but how the devil was he supposed to persuade his proud Peisinoe, as he thought of her, to accept the trifling gift of a new gown? The subject required his urgent attention, that’s not to say a little subterfuge.

  “Ring for the carriage, please, Hal. I shall deliver some of the local invitations myself immediately.” Flick flexed her writing hand and winced. “If I address one more card today my fingers will seize up.”

  “Take Beth with you, if you don’t mind,” Leah said, glancing at her sister.

  “Oh no,” Beth said, shaking her curls. “There’s still much to do. I’ll stay here and help you.”

  “You look pale. You’ve overdone it. Go with Flick and take a break. The air will do you good.”

  “Certainly you must come,” Flick said. “And you too, Leah. The rest of these wretched cards can wait.”

  “No, I shall continue here,” Leah said. “But, Miss Archer, you look quite done in. Perhaps you should retire to your chamber and rest for a while.”

  “I could do a little more.” The little governess, who was well past her prime, looked to Flick for guidance.

  “Nonsense, we’ve worked you too hard,” Flick said. “Take the rest of the day off. We have made good progress and can manage well enough without you.”

  “Very well, if you’re sure.”

  Miss Archer stood, curtsied to Hal and left the room.

  Hal, perfectly aware of Leah’s true purpose, bit back a laugh at the easy way in which she managed her companions. He returned to the sanctuary of his own study, the only area of the house unaffected by the upheaval, and waited.

  She knocked less than ten minutes later.

  “Come in,” he said, conscious of the amusement in his tone and the anticipation coursing through his body. “Miss Elliott.” He raised a brow in faux surprise as she closed the door quietly behind her. “What a pleasant surprise. Was there something I could do for you?”

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Not you perhaps, but if Phoebe is at leisure to receive me?”

  Hal locked the door behind her, reached for her hand and led her to the chaise situated in an alcove away from the windows. He waited for her to arrange her skirts and then sat beside her.

  “You’re still quite determined to do this?” he asked, unsure how he wished her to respond.

  “More so than ever,” she said with an emphatic nod.

  “Well then, let’s not waste the opportunity you so artfully created.” He shifted sideways and was rewarded with a clear view of her profile. “What do you remember about Phoebe?”

  “She was directed to indoctrinate Fanny by the bawd who took her in. She was charged with awakening her passions so she’d know what to expect when a gentleman was introduced to her bed.”

  “So she was.” Hal twisted one of Leah’s curls round his finger, tugging gently, his eyes devouring her profile. “How did she go about it?”

  “They slept in the same bed and Phoebe paid homage to Fanny’s lovely body.”

  “La amour sapphist. The fantasy of every red-blooded male.”

  Leah’s expression showed surprise. “Such situations would be of interest to a man?”

  Hal chuckled. In spite of her extensive reading on the subject, she was still so much the innocent. “Certainly it would be.” Hal ran his arm across her shoulders, idly fiddling with another escaped curl. “How did Phoebe incite Fanny’s interest?”

  “Fanny was naïve, and frightened. She’d overheard talk. There would be a good market for her maidenhead and she was to be broken like a young filly to the mounting-block.” Leah shuddered. “That would be enough to frighten any young girl.”

  But not this one, apparently. Her eyes were round with curiosity rather than fear. “I’ve always thought that information was deliberately allowed to reach her ears, giving Phoebe a viable excuse to step in and comfort her.”

  “She felt safe with another woman because she didn’t have...how did Fanny describe it?” Leah paused. “‘A wonderful machine,’” she added, giggling.

  That laughter was Hal’s undoing. With a smothered adjuration he bent his head and captured her lips in a deep, drugging kiss. The intensity of her response surprised him. Her hands, with their long elegant fingers, reached for the back of his neck as she leaned into him with enthusiasm and not the least embarrassment. Resisting taking the inevitable step was going to be harder than he’d anticipated, and definitely required him to remain fully clothed, regardless of the discomfort caused to his throbbing erection.

  Hal broke the kiss and pushed gently until she was lying on the chaise.

  “Think of this chaise as Fanny’s bed,” he said, turning the words into a playful invitation.

  She nodded, clearly incapable of speech. Hal, unable to suppress a smile, loosened the ties that were conveniently situated at the front of her gown and slipped the bodice down her arms. She wore no corset and her firm breasts were now visible through the thin material of her chemise. He sucked in a breath, able to fully appreciate the magnificence of her body in a way that hadn’t been possible in the dim lantern light the previous evening.

  His hands hadn’t deceived him. She was every bit as lush as he had thought. He reverently cupped a breast, moulding, caressing, all the while watching carefully for any signs of distress, or for a change of heart. There were none. Instead she squirmed with impatience, biting her lower lip as she offered him a sultry smile. Unsure whether t
o be encouraged by the spontaneous nature of her reaction or to be put on his guard by it, Hal dropped his head and suckled a hard nipple through her chemise. His actions elicited a long moan.

  “You like that?”

  She sighed. “Very much indeed.”

  “Do you think Fanny felt reassured when Phoebe did the same thing to her?”

  “Huh?”

  It was obvious that his question hadn’t registered. Instead she furtively rubbed her thighs together, much as Fanny had done when with Phoebe. Taking the hint, he lifted her skirts and ran a hand along her lower leg, taking his time to raise it higher.

  “How did Phoebe introduce herself to Fanny’s most intimate places?” he asked.

  “Er...she introduced a finger into the quick, I think.”

  “She did indeed.” Hal’s hand brushed against the curls at the apex of Leah’s legs. “Shall I do that to you?”

  “If you don’t,” she said, her face flushed, her voice fractured, “I shall think myself very badly used.”

  Laughing, Hal nudged her legs apart, drinking in the sight of her exposed sex. “Don’t ever believe you’re not beautiful,” he said, his voice thick as his fingers continued to tantalize and taunt.

  “Don’t, Hal. Please, I need to—” She rotated her shoulders as though trying to relieve a physical ache. Hal knew how she felt. “The feeling, it’s...I can’t describe it.”

  “‘She brought me again to the crevice so favourable to our curiosity,’” Hal quoted, gently inserting one finger inside Leah, watching her reaction closely.

  She gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

  “How does it feel?”

  “Strange, intrusive and yet, I don’t know, like I’ve always been waiting for something like it.”

  “Ah, but you’ll never know the full extent of what you’re missing since you don’t plan to marry.” He removed the finger, sucked it into his own mouth and grinned. “You taste as sweet as summer,” he said, licking his lips with exaggeration. “Did reading about Fanny’s experiences make you feel the way you do now?”

  “No, I found it informative, nothing more.” She opened her eyes even wider still. “You appear to know the book very well. I believe you just quoted a passage verbatim.”

  Hal laughed. She didn’t need to know that he’d reread the appropriate passages the night before in anticipation of this moment. “I first read the book at the same age as you, except I didn’t do so with my father’s prior knowledge and consent. All the students at Eton were talking about it, I knew my father had a copy in here, and well—”

  “Of course!” Her soft smile melted his already vulnerable heart. “An essential part of any schoolboy’s education, I would imagine.”

  “Precisely.”

  She wriggled her lovely body into a more comfortable position, apparently unembarrassed by her state of semi-undress, even though he was still fully clothed. “But now you must finish what you started.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do, sweet Peisinoe.” He leaned closer, breathing the words against her ear. “Use Fanny’s language.”

  “My ‘mount-pleasant,’” she said on a fractured breath. “It would please me if you touched it again.”

  It would please Hal too. It would probably also drive him insane. Even so, he did as she asked, one finger continuing to delve inside whilst his thumb found her nub and agitated it. He bent his head to take a nipple into his mouth and ruthlessly increased the pressure of his thumb. She shattered beneath his fingers almost immediately, crying out as she bucked her hips against his hand.

  Smiling, Hal removed his hands, watching her as, eyes closed, she absorbed the full force of her first orgasm.

  “Welcome back,” he said, smiling when she opened eyes still cloudy with passion and looked up at him with genuine surprise.

  “I had no idea,” she said.

  “You would hardly have needed my services if you did.”

  Leah returned his smile. “Perhaps not.”

  “Knowing from Fanny’s account of it how one lady could please another, or indeed, please herself, were you never tempted to try it alone?”

  “No.” She looked rather shocked. “The thought never occurred to me.”

  “Good.”

  “Why does that please you? Surely you don’t disapprove. I thought you broader minded than that.”

  “No, I don’t disapprove of the theory. I’m merely pleased to have been the first to give you practical experience of your theoretical knowledge.”

  The explanation appeared to satisfy her and so he adjusted her gown, helped her sit up and retied the ribbons.

  “Thank you,” she said primly, trying ineffectively to rearrange her wayward curls into some semblance of order.

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  “What shall we do next?” she asked, avoiding looking at him as she continued to fuss with her hair. She would have been better served to splash water over her face to cool it down, or do something about lips, swollen from his kisses.

  “How did Fanny describe the male organ?” he asked. “Other than as a ‘wonderful machine.’”

  “Let me try and remember.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. Hal resisted the almost overwhelming urge to kiss her again as he waited for her response. “‘An engine of love assaults’ was one way.”

  Hal crossed the room and reached to the shelf that held his copy of the book. He pulled it down and turned to the appropriate page.

  “‘Grasp a column of the whitest ivory,’” he read. “‘Beautifully streak’d with blue veins, and carrying, fully uncapt, a head of the liveliest vermilion: no horn could be harder or stiffer, yet no velvet more smooth or delicious to the touch.’ Fanny certainly had a way with words.”

  Leah licked her swollen lips. “Yes.”

  “How did she come to see this great white ivory column?”

  “Voyeurism. She and Phoebe concealed themselves and watched one of the other girls with her lover.”

  “And Fanny found the sight highly inflammatory, did she not? Phoebe was obliged to satisfy her lust in much the same manner that I just satisfied yours.”

  “Yes, rather frantically, right there in that cupboard.”

  “When passion strikes as fiercely as it stuck Fanny, location is of no consequence.”

  “Is that what we’re to do next?” she asked. “Observe others engaged in the act?”

  Hal regarded her closely. “Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “I rather think I’d find it informative.”

  Hal roared with laughter. “I wouldn’t have you remain uninformed and so shall arrange it.”

  She took the volume of Fanny Hill from his hands and flicked through the pages. “This feels like such an old friend. And this edition is remarkably well preserved, just as my father’s...” She frowned, turned to the front cover and gaped. Her eyes swivelled between the book and Hal. All colour drained from her face and she looked to be on the verge of swooning. “This is my father’s copy,” she said in a strangled tone. “It’s one of the books that was destroyed in the fire.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hal leapt forward, catching Leah as her legs buckled beneath her. His strong arms encircled her body, preventing her from crumpling to the floor, as she surely would have done otherwise. He helped her back to the chaise they’d just vacated.

  “Sit down and give yourself a moment,” he said. “You’ve had a severe shock.”

  Leah drew in several deep, calming breaths. Slowly her world stopped whirling and her wits were restored to her. Hal poured her a glass of water and held it to her lips, forcing her to take a sip.

  “Thank you,” she said, pushing the glass aside. “I feel better now.”

  “You’re quite sure about the book?”

  “Let me see it again.”

  He fetched it and placed it in her lap. Leah examined the binding, noting the dent in the leather at the top.

  “My f
ather’s assistant dropped it and caused that damage,” she said. “Papa was quite cross with Jenkins and berated him for his clumsiness. I was there when it happened and so I remember it perfectly well. My father so seldom got angry that it stuck in my mind.” She opened the cover and examined the flyleaf. “Look at this.” She pointed to the initials neatly inscribed in one corner. “My father didn’t write his full name in his books, nor did he use a nameplate. He felt it would adversely affect their value if he ever had to sell them. But he took the precaution of initialling them as a protection against theft.”

  “So you’re absolutely sure.”

  “Yes.” She met his gaze and almost flinched. His eyes, softened with a heady combination of pleasure and passion when he’d been acting as her Phoebe, had now taken on a diamond-hard gleam. The marquess, she was fast discovering, wasn’t a comfortable person to be close to when he was displeased about something. “Where did you get it?”

  “I’m unsure.” He shrugged. “Part of Cowling’s duties is to seek out additions to my library.”

  “It must have been fairly recently.”

  “I agree with you. It isn’t the original copy of the book that I borrowed from my father, of that I’m quite certain.” He flashed a brief, mirthless grin that failed to banish the menace from his eyes. “That particular tome has dog-eared pages marking the most salacious passages. I, and two brothers after me, saw to that.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “I daresay.”

  “I believe this, and several other valuable books, were added to my library a year or two ago.”

  “Which others?” She made to stand up but he placed a hand on her arm that stopped her. “Stay there. I’ll look.” He crossed to his bookshelves. “I know they were all of an erotic nature, so they’re probably shelved together.” He ran his hands along several spines. “Here we are,” he said, delivering another tome to her. “I’m certain this one arrived at the same time. I remember it particularly because it’s a rare first edition I’d been long hoping to acquire.”