Persuasion (12 page)

to do with it. That he could have inherited this trait to love and so unsuitably

crushed him further.

Perhaps it was rather premature to talk of such deeper emotions and so

soon, but there was something about her that called to him and spoke

purely and directly to his heart. It wasn't something he liked, hell not one

bit, but being honest with oneself was vital and Dorian tried to always be

that way.

It had been torture to dance with her. Hell. Fiery infernos had gathered at

his feet and burnt him as he had held her in his arms.

He'd not danced with anyone since Camille and neither had he shared a bed

with any woman since her death. Yet in that instant, when they had waltzed

around the crowded ballroom, desire had shot through him with a power

that, to this very moment, rocked him on his heels and forever changed the

way he would see himself.

He hated to admit it and felt terribly disloyal for feeling this way, but what

she had instigated with that one dance had felt . . . apocalyptic in intensity.

And it was something he had never before experienced. Not with Camille

and not with any other woman either.

What the hell had pushed her to choose him as a dance partner anyway?

He felt like damning her for having selected him. Because of her actions, she

had changed him and in ways he was only just realizing and he didn't like it,

not at all. It felt weak to admit it, but Dorian knew that he was frightened

and that he would have to avoid her, at all costs.

He refused to suffer any more at the hands of a woman and thus vowed to

learn of her whereabouts and bypass those balls and society functions. It

surely would not be too difficult. She was young and would probably only

attend the earliest of balls and if he was unfortunate to see her, then he

would escape to the card rooms.

To dance with her was no longer an option, not when it inspired these crazed

feelings for her. Feelings that had him wishing she was in this bed beside

him at this very minute and that he could consummate his desire for her.

His eyes fluttered close as he imagined her above him, her velvet skin

entirely bared to his gaze as she rode him to pleasure. Her tits jiggling as

she moved and her body roiling and arching sinuously as she rocked her hips

against his.

Unable to help himself, his hand slid beneath the sheet and he almost

winced as the fine linen grazed his already hardening cock. With spread

fingers, he cupped himself and licked his lips as his cock immediately

reacted to both the touch and the imagery in his mind. Dorian forced himself

not to think that this was the first time he'd felt sexual desire in four years.

Instead, he concentrated on pleasuring himself, concentrated on the act

rather than the emotion behind it.

He had spent far too long in a world where emotion reigned supreme and in

the morning, he would return to that world. But for now, he could enjoy this.

Enjoy the feel of his blood heating and the sensation of pleasure rising

through him until he literally ached with it.

Fiercely gripping his dick, he handled his balls with the other fist and

imagined that it was her quim surrounding his cock, that her moist walls

were pulsing around him and pleasuring him as he'd never been pleasured

before. That she was taking him to heights that he had never before

experienced and only would with her atop or under him.

He closed his eyes and continued to imagine her. His mind took away the

dress she had worn, a robe that incited his desire for her, and he saw those

luscious curves again and felt desire and lust rip through him.

When his seed spurted on to the sheets, he felt like an untried, uncouth

young lad as he contemplated the mess he'd made.

Grunting, he grabbed the linen and cleaned his cock and felt sickened by

what he'd just done as he rolled over on to his side and tried to court sleep.

It did not work, as the bewitching face that used to haunt him was suddenly

exchanged by an enchanting red head whose fresh eyes and innocent

pureness had so intrigued him.

Eventually, after what felt like hours’ worth of trying, he fell into a restless

slumber and each time he awoke, Dorian knew that his plan to avoid the

stunning Lady Lily would be far more complex than he realized.

Even though he longed to deny it, and tried to fight it, it was too late. She

had already affected him . . . had already changed him in ways she could

not imagine. He could run from it, Dorian knew that, but for how long and

for how far?

Would she not always be there, not in person but in his mind?

He slammed his head against the pillow as he realized that all the sorrow of

the last four years had almost been for naught. He had yet to realize that for

a person to not be there physically did not mean that they could still not

actively affect the way he lived his life!

His fingers gripped into the sheet as tension ripped through him with the

force of a gale, which was swiftly followed by anger and sadness and only

after a fight, did he manage to slowly relax and eventually fell into a slumber

that was richer than he had expected.

Tapping her fan rhythmically against her knee, Lily perused the darkened

cave of the carriage in which she was seated with a gloomy frown. And

gloomy was the apropos word. She had felt thus ever since Lady Greene's

ball two nights ago and as the days had passed, Lily felt as though she were

merely sinking deeper into the quagmire of despondent malaise that had

overcome her since she had first met the Earl fforbes-Hyde.

A period of self-analysis had overtaken her that first night. She had analyzed

her feelings for the Earl and still felt confused by them. Indeed Lily felt more

than confused, she was in truth completely bewildered by the entire

situation. When she had finally comprehended what the man in the shadows

was asking her to do, she had realized that her good name would be no

more, that her family name would forever be besmirched. And while honor

meant nothing in comparison to her mother's safety, now everything felt as

though it had changed. And that was because it had and not for the good.

Of course, her mother's safety was as vital as ever. But now, the man she

was supposed to seduce was the first man to have ever touched her in the

most fiercely guarded of places, her heart. And what did that mean? She

was sure that it could mean nothing good. That it could only mean that

heartbreak for her was on the horizon. This Earl, who she hardly knew, in

fact knew hardly at all, had changed her in ways she could not comprehend.

The way he had made her feel, was like nothing she had ever experienced

and it still had the power to send shivers rushing along the length of her

spine. When she thought of him, and she did frequently and not as the

target of her seduction, but as the man, the Earl, who could possibly be the

one to melt her frozen heart.

Why he had affected her thus, Lily did not know. How she wished that she

did. That she could understand the way he made her feel. But then she

supposed that had she experienced this before, then she would not be

worrying. Would not be contemplating what it all meant, for he would mean

less than nothing to her.

At this moment, she could only believe that this man, this Earl could be the

one she was supposed to love until the day she died. Perhaps that was

rather melodramatic, but having never experienced the like, how was she

supposed to know any differently? Never had she felt this way about another

person outside of her close-knit family. And that, in and of itself, led her to

one conclusion, that she could and did love this man. Regardless of time

constraints, or the pressure of the situation she was in, Lily was like her

mother in that she had fallen instantly in love with a man and had known

that he was meant for her.

And because of the bedamned blackmailer, the future was not as perfect as

it should have been. Indeed, it would be anything but perfect. In order to

keep her mother safe, she would have to shame herself before him and ruin

anything of merit that they might have had with one another.

Lily would simultaneously be besmirching her character before a man who

could mean the world to her, but were he to take her up on this proposed

seduction then she too would lose the halcyonic glow her mind created

whenever she thought of him. For what kind of man would accept a

seduction from a virginal debutante? Especially when one considered the

society in which they both lived. Without the titles of pure and virginal,

marriage agreements were difficult to come by. Lily believed that even for

herself; a chit with beauty, titles and a dowry, it would be rather difficult to

find a man willing to take her on as his bride. The ton was a hypocritical

place in which to live, but . . . such was life. And Lily found herself in a

somewhat vicious circle where a future, she felt sure could be a happy for

them both, was in serious peril.

Until now, thoughts of husbands and suitors had taken up very little space in

her mind and now, when she was about to lose any hope of ever being

married, did she realize that a family which was established on love was all

she wanted in life.

How perverse was fate when one only realized what one wanted, when it

was forever lost.

Gulping a little at the thought, Lily flusteredly spread open her fan and

fluttered it before her face. The slight breeze it wafted her way gave her

some relief but not enough to ease her soul. At that moment, she felt

unbearably cloistered by the small confines of the carriage in which she was

traveling and a desire to simply jump out of the conveyance and rush into

the misty London night overwhelmed her. While she had always been

confined by society's dictates, never had she felt as imprisoned as she did at

this moment. Lily felt almost as though she were trapped in a maze where

both left and right led her merely deeper into its constraining grasp and

further away from the exit.

Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath and wished to God that she

could reverse time. Wholeheartedly, Lily wished that she had not attended

all of the events that had led her on to this path and that she was once more

the bored débutante of only three weeks past.

But she wasn't, Lily was about to make herself a whore in return for her

mother's life and time could not be reversed. No matter how hard one tried.

Shaking her head at the thought, she once more turned her face towards the

passing streets as they were conveyed by them. Aunt Millie, her uncle and

herself were due to attend yet another ball, only this time she could not be

disinterested in the affair as was her wont. To be disinterested could be

dangerous and so, Lily fully expected that she had an abhorrent night ahead

of her.

Self-pity was never the wisest of emotions, but surely, at a time such as

this, Lily deserved to feel at least a tad dismayed by her situation.

Distraught by everything that she was about to lose and all in the name of

saving a parent she loved from harm.

Lily turned her thoughts away from the extortionate demands of her

blackmailer, for they were certain to make her cry. Instead, she turned them

towards this morning and the missive she had received from him. Thinking

about the cause and effect of the situation always saddened and

overwhelmed her. But thinking about his indecency and his effrontery

infuriated her more than anything else and fury was a much more pleasant

emotion with which to live. Sadness and anger were both negative in their

fields, but sadness drained where anger fueled. And Lily much preferred the

latter over the former!

The missive's contents had caused her many a problem this morning. For

that night, they had been due to attend a musical. The letter had informed

her that Earl fforbes-Hyde would be at Lady Ipswich's ball and that Lily had

to attend this event and no other.

In order to acquiesce with the message's contents, and for the first time in

her life, Lily had thrown a tantrum, thrown one of her aunt's best pieces of

breakfast china to the ground and demanded that they attend the soirée.

Lily had a cool and calm temperament and just thinking of her misbehavior

this morning was enough to make her blush! She had not even known that

she possessed the qualities to even throw a fit of temper and to say that her

aunt had been surprised was an understatement.

Even in her present low mood, Lily's lips twitched at the memory.

Her aunt's eyebrows had almost hit her coiffure! And her mouth had popped

open and shut like one of the carp that resided in the village millpond near

Grantlake. In fact, even though the thought was rather ungenerous, Aunt

Millie's choice of attire had also reminded her of the golden fish that lived

near her home in Cheshire. A gleaming yellow and orange turban had been

perched atop her head along with a rather large peacock's feather. Then had

come a voluminous concoction of gold and red chiffon, which had all married