Mary Balogh - Gentle conquest

"I do believe, Lady Lansbury," her mother-in-law continued, smiling broadly, "that it may not be a great length or time before you and I will be changing our status to that of grandmama. Gracious, how old that does make me feel. Shall we hope for a boy the first time."

Ralph's hand closed rather tightly around Georgiana's. He looked acutely embarrassed, she saw in one fleeting peep up at him. She did not know quite where to look or what to say. She said nothing. Neither did Ralph.

"For sure, I suppose it is possible," Lady Lansbury said. "I did not even think of it. Is it true, Georgie? But there, we must not press the matter. You will let us know as soon as you are sure, which you may not be at the moment, I daresay."

"Shall I summon the carriage, dear?" Ralph asked her. "Or would you prefer to sit quietly here for a while? Perhaps you would like a drink."

"Yes, I should like that, please," she said, smiling up at him in gratitude. "Will you sit here with me for a while, Ralph? I am so sorry to have been silly. I do not know what came over me."

The older ladies stayed with her until Ralph returned with a glass of cold water and then left them alone. She felt very depressed as he settled himself beside her again and took the hand that was not holding the glass. It was all over, then, this happy part of her life. She would not be able to keep up the Kensington visits with Stanley spying on her. She would have to tell Ralph the truth and risk his anger or his humiliation or whatever other emotion he would feel when he knew of the terrible trick she had been playing on him for more than a month. If she did not tell him soon, Stanley might well do so.

She should tell him now. It was the obvious course to take. There was nothing to be gained by delay. Besides, she was becoming more convinced that her mother-in-law was probably right. She could never remember vomiting in her life. Ralph was silent beside her, perhaps feeling that she needed quietness. She should just open her mouth and let the words come out. But it was so good sitting here beside him, feeling his concern for her health. She felt tired, too tired to cope with the emotions that would be unleashed by her words. She leaned her head sideways against his shoulder and felt comforted. She closed her eyes.

Vera Burton was unaware that her sister had been taken ill. So was Lord Beauchamp. They had withdrawn from the dance before she made her very public exit.

They had started to waltz, but Vera had twice accused her partner of drawing her indecently close during the turns.

"If I did not do so, ma'am," he replied, "you might spin off in a direction quite different from mine. Imagine how very conspicuous you would feel if that happened."

"A waltz does not have to be danced as if it were a flat-out gallop along an open green, my lord," the usually docile Vera said tartly. "I believe you quite deliberately turn fast just so that you may have the excuse to draw me close. I find the experience quite repugnant."

"Do you?" he said. "I can hardly blame you. I do believe the tips of your breasts actually brushed against my coat for the smallest fraction of a second. Scandalous goings-on indeed, ma'am. Enough to give a maiden of the strongest constitution the vapors. Would you like to swoon quite away and give me the pleasure of carrying you off the floor?"

"I do not know why I even consented to dance with you," Vera said. "You never do anything but insult me, sir."

"I?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Insult you? You malign me. Did I say that I shrank from contact with your breasts? On the contrary, my dear. I felt a distinct thrill of desire."

"You are insufferable!" she said, her cheeks aflame. "Return me to my mother immediately, sir."

He stopped dancing, made her a mock bow, and offered his arm. But he led her to an alcove across which curtains almost met.

"If I returned you to your mama in your present agitated state," he said, "she would do me the injustice of agreeing with you. Besides, this seems to me to be an excellent opportunity to discover just what those lips really do taste like."

"Don't you dare touch me," Vera said, backing away from him into the alcove. "You… you rake!"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Tell me," he said, "why are your cheeks flaming quite so red and why is your bosom heaving as if you had just run several miles? Is it all outrage, or is it partly excitement? If you are totally honest with yourself, do you find that perhaps you want to be kissed? I find it hard to believe that what I am feeling can be entirely one-sided."

He had been moving toward her so that he now stood directly in front of her. She stood flat against the wall, tier hands splayed against its surface on either side of her. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, and said nothing.

He laughed more softly. "You are incurably honest, are you not, Vera?" he said. "You cannot deny your own feelings of desire, yet you would not for the world admit them. So you stand mute."

"I will not be trifled with," she said. "I will not be used for your amusement so that you can boast of your conquest of an aging, plain spinster. I will not." Her voice was trembling.

"Vera!" he said. "Are you talking about yourself? Aging? How old are you? Two-and-twenty? Three? Four? My next birthday takes me into the next decade, you know. And plain? I might have agreed with you after our first meeting, though your eyes have always set your appearance above the ordinary. But it is some time since I have even had any reservations about calling you beautiful. Your fashionable new hairstyle has greatly changed your appearance. You cultivate a prim expression that tends to make one assume you are plain. But any sort of emotion transforms you into a quite remarkable beauty. And I do frequently arouse emotion in you, even if only indignation, do I not, my dear?"

"Don't," she said. "Don't make mock of me."

He shook his head slowly. "I don't," he said. "And I do not trifle with you. I want to kiss you. May P"

"Will it make any difference if I say no?" she asked, some bitterness in her voice. "You will do as you please anyway."

"I will tease you and shock you to my heart's content," he said, "because I suspect that doing so brings me closer to the real Vera. But I will not interfere with your person against your will. Had you not realized that about me?"

She shook her head. "I am not used to light flirtation," she said, "and I make no apology for my lack of experience."

He smiled. "You are procrastinating, ma'am," he said. "Will you be kissed?"

"Yes," she said almost defiantly. "Yes, Iwant you to kiss me."

She came into his arms and held up her face to his. He gazed into her eyes, which were looking full into his.

"Ah, you feel right," he said. "Slender and yielding. Now, how do they taste, Vera?"

He lowered his head and opened his mouth over hers. She jerked back in some shock, but when he waited for her without moving, she lifted her arms up around his neck and put her lips against his again. And she gave herself up to his embrace, allowing him to bite at her lips, to part them with his tongue, and to take possession of her mouth. Instinctively, without thought, she arched her body to his. She lost touch with her surroundings.

Roger did not. He broke the embrace slowly after a couple of minutes. "Mmm," he murmured, his mouth against her ear. "Every bit as tasty as I suspected. God, how I want you."

"It I might interrupt!" a clipped voice said from the opening in the curtain.

Vera pushed in panic against Roger's chest. Lord Beauchamp himself turned lazily.

"Ah, Stanley," he said. "You have damnable timing, my kid. Can you not see that I am occupied with important business at the moment?"