A Gentleman's Wager (25 page)

‘You frighten me,’ Louisa said, as if she owed him an explanation. Vaughan glanced over his shoulder at her, and gave her a half-mocking predatory smile, which faded the moment she stiffened.

‘Only because you’re afraid of the unknown. If you would just let me …’ He stopped, holding the pause. ‘Well,’ he continued at last. ‘Perhaps we won’t go into that.’

Louisa tried to read his expression. She moved forwards an inch or two, which eased the pressure of the wood against her back.

‘Did you sit up much of last night?’ he asked.

Louisa bit her lip. ‘How did you know?’

‘Just a guess. Did you dream of me? Of what might have happened to you if your window had not been tied?’

She didn’t reply, but was sure her expression must have told him everything.

‘B’gad, madam! I won’t deny I’ve been a scoundrel before now but, as a rule, I prefer my lovers to be willing. Do you think I’d force you?’

‘You did before,’ she snapped, finding her tongue at last.

‘Hmm – I believe we discussed that once already.’ He turned on his heels. The skirt of his coat swirled out
around
him, glinting with azure and sapphire. When he faced her next, he favoured her with a dazzling smile. ‘Indulge me. What did you have me do in those dreams of yours?’

She flushed at his words, trying desperately not to think of her nocturnal fancies.

‘Did I caress you with my hands, or did my tongue tease your nipples? Did I wet your chemise until it stuck to the ripe flesh beneath and became transparent? Did I fuck you?’

A scandalised gasp escaped her. Vaughan walked towards her until his hands brushed against her waist. False memories awoke at his touch. She held on to his wrist and the lace prickled her fingers. He lifted his arm to kiss each of her fingertips in turn.

‘I could scream,’ she warned.

‘No one will hear.’

‘Charles.’

‘Snores louder than I suspect you scream. Which is fortunate.’ He laid his hands on her shoulders.

‘What are you going to do to me?’

Vaughan smiled. ‘Nothing I can’t make you beg for.’

She thumped her fists against his chest. He looked down at her patiently. ‘I won’t be thwarted by such a feeble gesture, Louisa. I’m sure you can fight harder than that.’

A knot of anger rose in her at his smugness. She lashed out, delivering a smarting blow to his cheek. Vaughan laughed. ‘I shall have a bruise because of that,’ he said, then easily grasped both her wrists. Louisa struggled against him, but he easily overpowered her, sealing her mouth with a kiss. For a moment she fought for air, then he simply overwhelmed her. She moaned. Vaughan pressed her hand over his prick. It pulsed with life, hard as a ferule but soft as velvet. A brief shadow swam before her eyes.

‘I do hope you’ve not been deceiving me,’ he said as he dropped elegantly to his knees. ‘Tell me, am I your first?’ Her underwear fell away beneath his practised hand.

The warm, rough surface of his tongue snaked through the blonde curls covering her mound. He made a V with his fingers and parted the swollen lips of her delta. His tongue-tip delved into her, gently lapping at her clitoris, and sent honey-sweet darts through her body. She cried out once for shame, and then all embarrassment left her. She no longer cared that she meant nothing to him, or that she sometimes hated him, or even that briefly she wished it was Frederick; her only concern became the tongue palpating her bud.

Vaughan sat back on his haunches. He held her on the brink of climax, lost in her need, and making only small mewling sounds. Her pleading gratified him. He derived perverse satisfaction from knowing that he could arouse her to this extent despite her hatred of him, and further that he could walk away at any moment and deny her fulfilment. However, there was a wager to win.

‘Don’t stop,’ she pleaded when his tongue left her bud. Her eyes flicked open, pupils dilated so that only a thin rim of blue iris remained. ‘Why have you stopped?’

Vaughan disguised a smirk by drawing his brows into a contemplative frown. ‘Alas, I bore easily,’ he sighed, and watched her shoulders slump.

‘But you can’t … I want …’ she gasped with shock and hurt. It was too much. The thrill of sadism brought a welcome throb to his balls, and his penis stiffened a fraction more. She was a pretty piece, with her eyes sparkling with lust, and her innocence added spice. But he wouldn’t be hurried with this treat.

‘And what do you want, Louisa? Tell me. Spell it out.’

Her delicate mouth opened but no words came out. Vaughan gave her at most five minutes before he could get her to say something unspeakably crude.

‘You want me to …’ he prompted.

She shook her head so that all her blonde ringlets bounced and quivered. Vaughan trailed his tongue over her clitoris again. ‘Why do you tease me?’ she asked.

‘I assure you ‘tis no tease. You’ve merely to ask.’

She writhed against his fingers, trying to manoeuvre them to where it gave her most pleasure. Her attempts to foil him, and her silence, greatly amused him. He realised that he had slighted her before now. She had more spirit that she let on; perhaps Bella had been giving her lessons. He didn’t suppose Wakefield would much thank her for it.

Vaughan took away his hand and licked the honeyed musk from his fingers. The look she gave him with those wide luminous eyes was one of lust and outrage. He sucked the last of her dew from his thumb.

‘Ask.’

Her lips trembled. The tight lacing around her bust pulled taut as she took a deep breath. ‘Very well,’ she said at last. ‘Since you make me. I want you to … to make love to me.’

‘To fuck you.’

The shot of distaste that leaped through her face, flaring in her cheeks as a rosy hue, made his cock buck in his breeches. Silly how that one word could make her blush when her quim was on display. He was only glad that she couldn’t tell how much all this delay was costing him; his own needs were overpowering. He wanted to push himself inside her immediately, but he also wanted to milk this situation for all it was worth.

‘To make love to me,’ she repeated steadily, and even managed to meet his eyes while she spoke.

‘In that case, you’ll have to tempt me a little more.
Quid pro quo
, Louisa, for only then shall you have what you desire.’

‘How?’

Vaughan rose, and let her skirt drop. ‘We will consider that dilemma in your bedchamber.’

Louisa shivered as the excitement and boldness she had previously felt ebbed from her. Vaughan turned the key in the lock and then faced her. They were alone in her room; it was final; there was turning back. At any moment he was sure to lose patience, to push her onto the bed and ravish her. All she could hear was the sound of her own heart. It beat simultaneously in her chest, her throat, her stomach and her ears. Vaughan, however, showed no signs of impatience as he carefully removed his coat and cravat and placed them neatly over a chair. Nor did he seem overeager as he stripped off his rings, and then removed her necklet and earrings and left them on the dressing-table.

‘Relax, I’m not going to devour you,’ he reassured her, when she jumped as his shadow fell over her.

Louisa closed her eyes and trembled as he pressed a long suggestive kiss to her lips, though she no longer knew whether she felt fear or lust. She could feel his trapped erection hard and firm against her body and was overcome with the sudden desire to look at him. Vaughan watched her with a mixture of amusement and desire in his eyes as she slowly unfastened his waistband and pushed his shirt aside. His cock reared proudly, silky smooth and long, but curved like a sabre and with a plum tip.

‘Later, maybe I’ll let you taste it,’ he said with a lewd grin.

‘Put it in my mouth,’ Louisa blurted, shocked at herself, but overcome with curiosity.

He laughed, genuinely amused. ‘Then again, maybe you’d like to do that now,’ he suggested, and ran his thumbs over her taut nipples. He pinched harder, and made her groan. ‘Hmm, yes,’ he drawled. ‘I think so.’

Louisa sighed. Vaughan’s head rested against her milky thigh, while his gaze lingered over her body. Now, in the afterglow, she was growing wary of him again. Even stroking his hair felt like petting an alligator. One wrong move and his present gentleness would result in a vicious bite. She felt no regrets at having lain with him, and knew she’d do it again given the chance, though she didn’t expect to have it. He had shown Louisa her only pleasure of recent days, though doubtless his motive was selfish. He had also taught her a lesson in irony. She probably still loved Frederick, but she’d slept with his enemy for a fleeting pleasure, and deep down she knew she’d done it to hurt him.

Vaughan kissed his way up her body to her mouth. His lips were still soft and warm against her skin. A faint feeling of arousal stirred at the tease. He propped himself on one arm and regarded her meditatively. ‘Beautiful Louisa,’ he said of her dishevelled appearance. ‘How exquisite you look with your hair loose and your skirts thrown awry.’

She thought perhaps he was being sarcastic, but a glimpse at herself in the mirror only resulted in her agreement with him. She was flushed with the aftermath of sex and wet with salty perspiration, but had never looked or felt so alive.

Vaughan leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved his rumpled shirt from the floor. He shook out
the
worst of the creases and pulled it over his head whilst grinning to himself.

‘What are you smiling about?’ she asked.

He stood and fastened his breeches over his shirt. ‘Quite simply, my dear Louisa, that you have just won me sixty guineas.’

‘What?’ Her brows crinkled in confusion.

‘Sixty guineas,’ he repeated slowly. ‘I had a bet with Aubury. Miss Rushdale and yourself before Lucerne and the captain, which I’ve now achieved.’

Louisa rolled over and tugged a sheet over herself. Somehow, his revelation didn’t shock her. ‘Is that all I am to you – a few coins?’ she asked calmly.

‘And one less virgin. Good night.’ He bowed mockingly.

Louisa waited until she heard the door close, then collapsed into the pillows with a sigh.

‘We have returned!’ said Lucerne.

Bella grinned as she watched Charles sit up abruptly, startled from his repose. He was ensconced before the fire with a glass of port at his elbow and a roughly scribbled text open on his lap.

‘More interruptions,’ he grumbled as he arranged his plump figure more comfortably in the chair. ‘So, you’re home. How exciting for me.’

‘What are you writing?’ Bella asked, curious about the manuscript.

‘Nothing at the moment … Well, poetry actually, but the atmosphere is ruined. It’s impossible to write about strange happenings and deserted rooms with you lot scaring the ghosts away.’ He gave a throaty sigh and looked mournfully at his notes.

Bella wondered if his gruff moans weren’t just for display. He didn’t seem to be concentrating very hard on
the
words before him, and the ink had dried on the nib of his pen. ‘We’ve only just arrived back. Surely you’ve been alone all afternoon to work,’ she said.

‘I believe he is taking issue with my presence, not yours,’ said Vaughan, as he emerged from the shadows with a theatrical flourish.

‘Yes, you,’ said Charles. ‘Can’t you languish someplace else? And don’t hover so close.’ He pulled a boorish expression as Vaughan leaned over the arm of his chair.

‘Sixty guineas, Charles, by the weekend if you please.’

‘It’s no good,’ he howled, while he mopped the beads of sweat that rapidly appeared on his brow. ‘I can’t get it by then.’

‘Saturday afternoon.’

Vaughan pulled himself up to his full stature, then nodded politely to them all, and left. Lucerne shook his head in obvious disbelief.

‘You should know better than to incur debts with Vaughan, Charles,’ he said sagely. ‘I would start digging deep into your pockets. He’s not the sort of person one likes to owe money to. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.’

Charles turned away, ashamed. Bella empathised. She knew exactly what it was like to have Vaughan constantly on your back. ‘Pay him,’ she advised, but if Charles heard her, he didn’t respond.

‘Bella, let’s have some tea,’ said Lucerne. ‘We’ll leave you for the ghosts to find, Charles.’

The following evening Louisa stood in the minstrel gallery which overlooked the dusty splendour of the great hall. Once, she imagined, it would have lived up to its grand name, but few furnishings had survived the ages. The only piece that was free of cobwebs was the armchair that Charles had artfully positioned before the central fireplace.

They were surveying the room prior to its refurbishment. At least, that’s what Lucerne was doing. Bella was too busy flirting, Charles too drunk, and Vaughan – what could one say about Vaughan? That, surprisingly, he was at the top of a ladder, currently examining the last of four vast windows on the east side of the room; each stood above five feet of blackened oak panelling and behind thick mildewed drapes, which she suspected might once have been red.

She no longer knew what to think of him. Not hatred any more, but certainly not intimacy either. For a brief time they had connected, but then she recalled how chillingly callous he’d been when he left her room, as if he were deliberately re-establishing his distance. Marquis Pennerley was definitely confusing – infuriating, but at least interesting.

He must have noticed her watching him, for he blew her a discreet kiss. Louisa tried hard not to smile. Twenty-four hours had changed her almost beyond recognition. Yesterday, she’d probably have reacted by shaking for an hour. Now it reminded her of something entirely different. As she watched him descend from the ladder to exchange notes with Lucerne, yesterday afternoon came clear and sharp to her mind …

‘What are you dreaming about?’ Bella asked as she emerged from the narrow arched entrance to the gallery. ‘You’re flushed.’

Louisa turned her head slowly, trying unsuccessfully to shake off the powerful, lewd memories before she faced her friend. She only just managed to veil her expression.

The scent of beeswax candles drifted up to them from below, where Lucerne was raising the iron cartwheel candelabra back to the rafters.