In the Widow’s Bed (6 page)

After a little while, Phoebe relaxed and her lips curled into an exasperated smile. “Why in heavens name would you wish to make love to me?”

That was an easy question to answer. “Because.” He grabbed her hand and wedged it between them. Her fingers wrapped around his growing length, and then to his delight—tightened. “You’ve had an enlarging affect on me for some time. I’d rather explore what might be between us than ignore it another day.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“There shouldn’t be anything between us. Are you mad?” Phoebe escaped Selwood’s hands before he could distract her again with kisses.

The younger man followed, striding proudly across the room in absolutely nothing at all. “Not in the least.”
 

The earl ran his hand through his dark hair and the effect on her senses as his muscles flexed was frightening. She wanted nothing more than to curl up against that broad chest and seek the pleasure he so readily gave. Phoebe pressed the heel of her hand to her brow to expel the image of his body. “This is insane. I shouldn’t share your bed. This cannot happen again.”

He shrugged. “You’re a grown woman. You’re not cuckolding a husband. Who’s to say aught about the matter?”
 

“Warminster,” she reminded him. Really did the man have no sense? The last man to cross her stepson had found himself impressed on one of the king’s ships and bound for the colonies.

Selwood set his feet wide, hands resting on his hips. “Warminster can bluster all he likes, but he won’t stand in my way. Besides, he owes me.”

“Owes you?” Phoebe heard her voice rise to shrillness but couldn’t control it. “Am I some sort of reward then?”

Selwood’s dark gaze pierced her. “Don’t be ridiculous, woman. That’s not what I meant at all.”
 

Phoebe shook her head. “This is impossible. I’ll not be responsible for ending your friendship.”

Selwood approached and despite her good intentions, she allowed him to draw her tight against his chest. His skin was warm against her cheek and she breathed in the heady scent of him. Without meaning to, Phoebe curled her arms about his bare waist and clutched him tight. His erection, already firm again, prodded her belly.

“Warminster will become used to the idea in due time,” he murmured, skimming his hands down her spine. “He’s not completely unreasonable.”

“Do you have any idea of how many weapons he has in this house?” Phoebe pressed her lips to Selwood’s chest, imagining the horror of that number.

“I imagine as many as I.” Selwood pressed a kiss to her hair. “Have some faith in my powers of persuasion.”

“Oh, I’m well acquainted with your powers.” Phoebe pushed out of his arms. “That’s what’s gotten me in trouble in the first place.”

Selwood smiled but said nothing more.

“I have to go.” But her hands wanted nothing more than to stay and explore all that divine muscle.

“Yes, dinner will be announced soon. You have Warminster’s guests to entertain.”

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t remind me. I will be relieved when this week is over and we get Moreton Hall to ourselves again.”

“I’ll see you at dinner then.” Selwood bowed extravagantly.

Disconcerted to have a naked man bow so elegantly to her, Phoebe rushed from the room to get ready for the evening.

While she bathed and dressed, Phoebe considered what Lord Selwood had said. He intended for Warminster to learn of their liaison, that they were lovers. Warminster would not be happy about that at all. He would make her life even more difficult.

Phoebe entered the drawing room with considerable trepidation to mingle with her stepson’s guests. Although by rights she should have acted as Warminster’s hostess, his prickly disposition made it impossible to do so. So far, the most he’d allowed was letting her order the tea to be served in the drawing room.

“I see Lord Selwood has joined our party,” Lady Clifford purred loudly in her ear. “Such a handsome, virile man. What we wouldn’t give to be ten years younger, eh?”

Phoebe gasped. Given that Lady Clifford’s age was greater than her own, she couldn’t possibly hope to appeal to a younger man. Mind you, Phoebe thought that of herself less than twenty-four hours ago. “Yes, I suppose so.”

When she glanced across the room she spotted Lord Selwood chatting with Warminster. The odd pairing—one draped in claret silk, the other clothed in blue superfine —seemed as cozy as usual. That would end.

Lady Clifford tapped her arm. “I’m certain he’s headed for marriage. See there—” the lady pointed across the room—“he’s already got a likely candidate lined up for a wife. A pity for him that my daughter favors Lord Warminster at the present moment. But still, Selwood won’t have trouble finding an experienced playmate to ease his disappointment. He’s still sensible enough to cast his eye about for a willing bed partner while he bides his time. Young men are insatiable.”

Aghast at the conversation, Phoebe fanned herself. Of course Selwood would marry, and possibly soon, but could he be after the insipid Lady Jocelyn too? She looked up in time to see Lady Jocelyn insinuate herself in the men’s conversation. There was no mistaking the calf’s eyes she made as Lord Selwood’s gaze fell on her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
 

But she did.
 

Lady Jocelyn had her sights set on both Warminster and Selwood. They were evenly matched in both title and fortune, and the chit could have them at each other’s throats before the house party was over. What a mess.

“I’ve always considered him a crafty one, but there’s no point pretending. There’ll be an agreement reached before the house party ends.” Lady Clifford glanced around, smiling in anticipation.
 

Phoebe’s stomach churned at the image of Selwood in bed with Lady Jocelyn. She wouldn’t glance in that direction again.

“Oh, thank heavens. Excuse us, Lady Clifford.” Lizzy Oliver clutched at her arm and dragged Phoebe toward a blessedly empty corner. “I feared you’d never arrive. Where have you been all afternoon?”

Coming apart at her brother’s command
. She couldn’t very well say that out loud. “Oh, I had a, um, headache,” Phoebe improvised.
 

“Oh, you poor dear. Then a lie down was just the right tonic. You are positively radiant this evening.”

“Thank you,” Phoebe stammered. Lord Selwood – a tonic to restore a woman’s vitality? How about the very thing to destroy a lady’s peace? Just a glimpse of him set her pulse racing. She wasn’t sure how she’d get through the evening knowing he’d be under Lady Jocelyn’s thumb soon.

“So, what am I to do about Warminster?”

Phoebe blinked. “What about Warminster?”
 

“Oh, bother. Can the blathering fool not go away?”

Phoebe turned and spotted Warminster and Selwood making their way toward their quiet corner. Lord Selwood drew closer, handsome in his dark evening coat, and Phoebe’s pulse beat as loud as any parade ground drum. At sixteen, Selwood hadn’t seemed comfortable around her. Their friendship had taken time to develop. Now that they were lovers, Phoebe was the one to be discomforted by him.

Lord Selwood reached them first. “Ladies, why are you both hiding in the corner?” Phoebe searched his face, looking for some hint of what he was thinking, but couldn’t detect one flicker of emotion that might give away his feelings.
 

“Attempting a private conversation,” Lizzy hissed. “Go smile at Lady Jocelyn, Selwood. She is eager to capture your attention.”

Selwood shuddered. “Perhaps later. I’m more than pleased with my present location.”

Although Phoebe tried to hide her relief, Selwood must have noticed her sudden relaxation at his comment. His brow quirked upwards, questioning her reaction without words. Phoebe offered a brief smile.

 
“Ah, Miss Elizabeth.” Warminster held out his arm. “Shall we go in to dine?”
 

Lizzy glanced over Phoebe’s stepson and she shuddered. If only Warminster would take note of his friend’s style of dress and consider forgoing claret satin in his evening attire. It hurt Phoebe’s eyes to look at her stepson too closely.

Lizzy scowled until Selwood nudged her. “Don’t make a scene, Lizzy. People are looking this way.”

Reluctantly, Lizzy placed her arm on Warminster’s and allowed him to escort her towards the dining room. The resolve on Warminster’s face puzzled Phoebe. “What was all that about?”

“Complications.” Selwood shrugged. “Shall we go in?”

Phoebe expected Selwood to claim her arm but instead, he simply strolled into the dining room at her side, held out a chair for her, and then settled in his. Throughout the meal, Selwood kept the conversation light and entertaining. It was as if what had occurred between them had happened only in her imagination.

Yet she didn’t imagine the way her body ached from his possession, or the tightening of her inner muscles at the memory of his skilled seduction. By the end of the meal, she couldn’t decide if she wanted him closer or wanted him to go away to stop the ache.

And she grew tired of the come hither looks Lady Jocelyn kept sending him. Really, must the chit be so obvious?

When Warminster signaled, Phoebe rose with the ladies, leaving the men to their port and cigars. But as soon as they reached the hall, Lizzy pulled her away from the others before they reached the drawing room. “I need to talk to you. Now.”
 

At Warminster’s study door, Lizzy lifted a hand to her hair, dragged out a pin, and inserted it into the lock. The door swung open.

“Wherever did you learn to do that?”

“Oh, somewhere.” Lizzy tossed her hand negligently. “It comes in handy at times.”

Lizzy pushed her inside the chamber and locked the door behind them, planting her back against the wood. “I need your help.”

“My help?” Phoebe squinted into the dark chamber to check that they were truly alone.
 

“I need to know how you do it.”

Puzzled, Phoebe turned. “Do what?”

“Keep the gentlemen at bay, of course. You’ve been a widow for four years now and not one man has dared attempt to seduce you that I’ve heard. I must have your secret.”

Phoebe choked on a laugh. “My secret is - no one has tried.”

“Really? Not one man?”

Phoebe nodded hurriedly as she realized she was lying. One man had tried and succeeded admirably. Lord Selwood had only
to look at her, smile at her in that knowing way of his to turn her resolved to mush. But she wouldn’t tell his sister any of that. She didn’t want to lose her regard.

Lizzy leaned against the door. “Botheration. Well, there’s nothing left to do but return home. I’m sorry to desert you, but the situation I find myself in is simply impossible.”

Concerned, Phoebe moved forward and placed her hand on the younger woman’s arm. “Lizzy what is going on?”

“That mincing fop, Warminster, is trying his hand at matchmaking. He seems to think he can do a better job of it than my brother and spent the whole meal promoting a match between me and that ridiculous Lord Parker.”

“Parker? He’s still attached to his mother.” Lizzy shuddered. “Has Selwood been trying to marry you off too? Hadn’t he given up some time ago?”

“Yes, my brother has, but it appears Warminster has a bee in his bonnet and believes every woman should be shackled in matrimony. I’d listen to his advice if he’d consider the matter himself. As it is, he’s hardly an admirer of the state. What would he know about the benefits of marriage? No intelligent woman would take him on.”

“My thoughts, too.” Phoebe rubbed her arms. “Listen, you are my invited guest, not Warminster’s. I’ll do my best to protect you from his plans.”

“Would you?” Lizzy launched herself into her arms and wept, “Why couldn’t you have been my sister?”

Phoebe rocked the young woman in her arms with a feeling of extreme sadness. She had never felt as welcome with her husband’s children as Lizzy had always made her. Warminster barely tolerated her company, and had removed his three younger siblings from her influence as soon as he’d gained the title. Of course, Phoebe would miss them if they’d been the least bit friendly, but chasing after them would have filled the emptiness of her days.
 

Yet Lizzy Oliver came to her for advice, for sympathy, and a shoulder to cry on when she needed it. And all of that would end when Lizzy worked out just how foolish she had been.

Someone scratched on the door. Lizzy jumped. But then she squared her shoulders, before offering Phoebe a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“Always.”

Lizzy opened the door and peeked out. “Oh, it’s only you. Thank heavens.”

“What’s going on in there, Lizzy?” Lord Selwood’s voice rumbled over Phoebe’s senses, setting her body to humming with anticipation.
 

When Lizzy glanced at her uncertainly, Phoebe smoothly stepped between them. “Just chatter between women, Selwood.”

Although he raised a brow, he appeared to accept her word and didn’t question his sister further.
 

“Well, good night, Phoebe.” After pressing a quick kiss to Phoebe’s cheek, Lizzy hurried away, turning up the stairs towards her bedchamber, and leaving her alone with her lover.